#i want that one in the A pool but i only do free summons on the non event stuff

[honeykaes]

to land and sea

neuvillette x adepti!reader II 2.7k

warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, afab!reader with no set pronouns, yandere themes, adepti!reader, reader is from fontaine, monsterfucking, pool sex, biting, creampie, cunnilingus, overstimulation, praise, hurt/comfort, angst, cucking, non consensual voyeurism, mention of blood, fontaine story spoilers, unedited

synopsis: with lanturn rite finally done, you decide to go relax at luhua pool only to find your former lover you haven’t seen in centuries confused on what your doing there.

The end of Lanturn Rite always felt freeing to you. With fewer responsibilities of protecting the harbor from threats to ruin the event, you finally had an opportunity to use your time as you saw fit—and most importantly, get away from him for a little while.

You walked along Luhua Pools, letting your bare curl themselves in the soft sand. The area was desolate from humans and adepti alike, for now, only accompanied by an occasional singing sparrow or the soft ruffles of swaying trees. You always admired the pools. The blues and faint greens of the vibrant waters always reminded you of your former homeland. 

Your eyes gazed at a sparrow beginning to flap its wings heading northwest beyond the large mountains of Liyue. Your eyes softened as your smile began to falter wondering if that bird would be headed towards Fontaine.

How long has it been since you were in that nation…at home? Was there still a home there for you?

You pull the robes of your attire, folding them up and placing them on the base of a nearby tree before picking one of the smaller pools and dipping into the waters. You shivered, your body trying to adjust to the temperature before letting your body completely submerge itself in the pool.

Would the cobblestone be the same? Would the food and culture be the same?

You knew how quickly humans adapted, even in Liyue. You had already heard and witnessed Fontaine’s technological feats during this Lanturn Rite. They were the nation now leading in technology, a far cry from how things used to be when you were there.

You wondered what happened to Furina.

…To Neuvillette.

“What became of you, Neuvillette…” you whispered to yourself. Your mind spiraled trying to remember his appearance from hundreds of years ago. Did he still keep that noble shape of his?

Did the reincarnation of the former dragon sovereign still have those lilac eyes of his that softened whenever he tucked a rainbow rose in your ear?

You dipped further in the water, blowing bubbles in the salty pool before sighing once more. 

“I miss you…”

A few hours pass as sunset begins to settle. Golden hour begins brightly as its rays highlight your skin as you sway your arms admiring the ripples of the water. 

Swoosh.

Your eyes dart up, looking around you to search for where that strange noise is coming from. Was it him? You didn’t exactly want to deal with your lord at the moment; you had plenty of time forced at his side for Lanturn Rite.

Your eyes whipped around scanning the land, but you didn’t see anything unusual. As you moved your gaze to the sea where the various pools resided you narrowed your eyes seeing a strange blue glowing coming from beneath the waters. It was moving fast, whatever this was, was an adept swimmer.

Before you summoned your weapon and left the pool to get your clothes, you gasped watching a head pop up from where the glowing was coming from. His hair was long and as white as snow, flowing behind him like a small river adorned with two stripes of blue. His skin was pale and dewy from the water, also illuminated in gold from the sunset.

Your eyes felt misty focusing on every curve of his face: his high cheekbones, his thin rosy lips. After all these years, he kept the same form.

“Neuvillette…” you called out. You couldn’t stop those words from leaving your mouth. His head slowly turned to meet yours, eyes widening in recognition as he looked at your form in the pool. 

The two of you remained frozen, drinking up each other's appearance desperate to make sure each other's eyes were not playing tricks.

His gaze softened before he soon swam near you. Water clung to his suit as he descended up to the pool you rescinded in. He kneeled near the edge, leaning down to your size.

“It’s you right? (Y/n)...” he muttered before placing his hand on your cheek. You leaned into his touch, chuckling as tears cascaded down your cheeks. The corners of his mouth curved upwards as his thumb tenderly caressed you.

“I thought the usurpers would never allow my eyes to gaze upon yours again. I should have come to this nation much sooner,” Neuvillette whispered. You shook your head, hastily wiping your tears.

“What are you doing here anyway? How’s Furina?” you asked. Neuvillette’s eyes twinged in pain, a sad smile coaxed over him as clouds began to form blocking the golden light of the sun.

“ She…freed her people of their curse. The nation of Fontaine is thriving more than ever,” he replied. He turned his head away, smile faltering, recalling the months that still haunted him.

“...Furina did? I wish Egeria lived to see it. I’m sure Furina is as happy as ever—”

”...The cost was a part of her life. She destroyed her throne for her people. She is now just a human, set to age as all others do,” he admitted. Your gaze leaves his, looking down at your bare body.

“I see…” you trailed off. Your heart ached. You wondered if she still remembered you. Both she and Neuvillette had to go through such troubles alone. You wondered if they felt abandoned by you.

You take a deep breath trying to process everything. You were even sure if you’d be able to see Furina in her human lifetime.

”I hope she didn’t think I abandoned her before she passed. I hope you didn’t either. I left to try to find a solution to our problem, asking the other Archons for their help or ideas but…I ran into trouble as you can imagine,” you whispered. The softness in Neuvillette’s eyes hardened quickly momentarily.

“If you’re in Liyue, I’m guessing it has something to do with Morax?” he asked. You ball your fist tightly beneath the water, nails harpooning against your palm before sighing and letting it go.

“I was almost killed by these..abyssal beasts and their poison before he found me. Apparently, he was familiar with my work in Fontaine. He offered his help to save my life and give me a solution to Fontaine’s problem. In desperation, I agreed. I was forced to become one of his adepti by that contract,” you revealed.

Neuvillette sighed, anger coaxing his brows but he didn’t touch further on your life with Morax.

“Shouldn’t your contract be fulfilled now that Fontaine is saved?” Neuvillette asked. You clenched your jaw, slowly shaking your head.

“...No. Our contract had been written that he had to give me the solution. By not telling me himself, our contract is now fulfilled and I’m stuck subservient to him. I tried to go back to Fontaine but…”

You sighed, pressing your lips against his soft palm resting on your cheek. You missed his touch, it always calmed you in times of uncertainty. Neuvillette’s gaze softened once more as he leaned in, pressing a kiss on your forehead.

“I missed you,” you whispered.

“I missed you more. Furina always said I looked happier whenever you were with me,” he replied. Your arms reached out, placing your hands on his cheeks. His eyes still had that same love and loneliness peeking through his long white eyelashes as you last saw them. He was the same as before…but yet different.

Whatever had happened in Fontaine had changed him.

You slowly leaned, pressing your lips against his own. The juxtaposition of the softness of his lips and the electricity igniting by his touch in your once barren veins was jarring; but yet it remained as slow and sensual, desperate to reclaim the hundreds of years they’ve been apart from.

At the moment, you two felt as though you were back in Fontaine 500 years ago, in a field of rainbow roses near the sea, promising each other everything was going to work out.

You leaned away feeling a sharp pain on your bottom lip and the taste of iron on your tongue. The haze in Neuvillette’s eyes lightened up, realizing his mistake as he tongue grazed one of his elongated canines. He cleared his throat in slight embarrassment.

“I apologize. It’s been a long time since I had these types of desires and affection,” he admitted. You smiled as your hands trailed down finding their way on his neckpiece, slowly taking it off. 

“As have I,” you whispered. One by one, his articles of clothing that were soaked in seawater—adorned in the finest materials and jewels—fell onto the sand of the beach. In his nude form, he slowly dipped in the pool, joining you.

Your hands wandered through his body, admiring the sapphire scales that sometimes shined on his shoulders. As your hands gently glided on them, his body shuttered in response. He sucked a sharp breath in, feeling your hand grab his hardening cock, pumping gently. 

His cock held unnatural bumps and ridges. As it grew thicker and longer in your palm, you could see the bluish tone beneath the water. This was one indication that he wasn’t human; he was the incarnation of the hydro dragon sovereign after all.

Neuvillette bit his lip hard, showing off the elongated fangs peeking through his lip. His thigh moved your leg as his hand dipped beneath the water to cup your cunt. A soft moan escaped from your lips feeling his long fingers rub between your folds before settling on your clit.

“Neuvillette,” you whimpered out. It was a forgotten melody he had missed, your voice in that tone—it brought shivers throughout his body.

His other hand, grab your hand that was wrapped around his now pulsating cock before lifting it and placing it on his chest. 

”I don’t want anyone else to take you away from me…” he whispered. Neuvillette leaned in once more, pressing a soft kiss on your lips before diving beneath the water of the pool. You paused, blinking to try to process what he was up to.

“Neuvillette what are you— Oh!” you yelped. You feel his tight grip on the globe of your ass and thigh. He widened your legs, admiring the view of your quivering hole beneath the glistening light above. He leaned in, opening his mouth wide, before taking a long stripe of your cunt.

”God, I miss this taste. I always went crazy going through my ruts without getting to taste you again,” he muttered but you couldn’t hear as all that came up to the surface was bubbles. His tongue swirls against your clit, sucking the nub hard as you can feel his nails beginning to elongate and prod at the skin he clung onto.

You squirmed under his touch, trying to grind your pelvis to get any bit of friction you could to satiate your desires. Neuvillette offered a tender kiss on your clit before smiling.

”I hope you can forgive me if I become too rough..” Neuvillette murmured.

He opened his mouth again, prodding his tongue out, and soon began to grow longer and thicker in size. Pressing itself at your entrance, his elongated tongue slowly sank inside of you— shuddering at the taste of your arousal mixed with the waters of the Luhua Pools. 

Your hands grabbed at his now glowing antenna on top of his head as he groaned beneath you in response. He pumped his tongue inside of you, keeping your body in place, as you tried to squirm from his touch. 

Moving his grip around, he moved one hand to toy with your clit. While he rubbed tight circles along the bundle of nerves, his tongue curled against your spongy walls. You grabbed a mound of your chest, arching your back as the muffled noises of his name came from above.

Your essences flooded his tongue as Neuvillette desperately drank every drop that gushed out of you. As he slipped his tongue out of you, he left your overstimulated clit with one more kiss before lifting his upper body to the surface. You leaned against his firm chest, catching your breath.

“Was that too much…?” he whispered, pressing another kiss on top of your head. You shook your head, breath heavy as you tried to come down from your high.

”No. I want more of you Neuvillette,” you whispered, gaze half-lidded looking up at him. His thumb pressed against your bottom lip as he leaned in with a soft smile.

”Then more you shall receive,” he replied. Neuvillette lifted your chin before capturing your lips once more.

Neuvillette hooked your leg up as his cock slid itself against your puffy folds. Your body trembled as his blueish tip grazed against your clit. He soon sank his cock inside of you slowly. As he sheathed himself deeper inside, you could feel the faint burn from your walls stretching out to accommodate his large size. 

His lips peppered themselves throughout your chin and neck before he finally bottomed out. Letting your leg go, you quickly wrapped your legs around his thin waist as he reached deeper inside of you.

He lifted his head, leaning in close to let his nose graze yours.

“I don’t want this moment to ever end. I loved you then, I love you now. I always will,” he whispered. You two share another kiss before he begins to move. His hips rocked as the waves rippled in the pool to his pace.

One of his large hands found a way to your ass once more, gripping it tight as he rutted against you faster. You can feel his tip curve and nudge against your cervix.

As your head lulled to the side, focusing on the pleasure ripping through your body, Neuvillette gently grabbed your chin while grunting.

”Please don’t look away…I want to burn your expression into my mind…” he softly begged. His thumb pressed against your bottom lip, wiping the drool peaking out before you gently bit down the tip of it. 

Your walls fluttered, squeezing against Neuvillette’s cock pulsating and thrusting inside of you. You feel his nails sinking into the spongy flesh of your ass.

”Neuvil…ette. Neuvill—ette. Neuvillette!” you stammered out. Your eyes shut tight in pleasure, as a whine left your lips. With an inhumane growl, Neuvillette buried his face into your neck, cock throbbing inside of you before his hips began to falter.

Tears pricked your eyes as you clung to him tighter, crying out his name. Your walls clamped down, quivering as you climaxed. Neuvillette struggled to continue, his ruts getting slower and sloppier.

With a few thrusts, he shuttered, holding you tight as he emptied himself inside of you. You could feel globs of his thick cum filling you up as he gently bucked inside of you, nursing himself from your high.

You kept your eyes closed. Sweat clung to your forehead as you tried to catch your breath. Neuvillette lifted his head from the nape of your neck admiring your look. Just as he gently caressed your cheek, his eyes narrowed, noticing an odd sigil glowing that wasn’t there before.

A Geo sigil.

Neuvillette held you tight, shielding your form as he watched a man emerge from behind you in silence.

”I thought avoiding you would have been the best situation, but to think you’d find them…” the formerly known god as Morax murmured with a practiced saccharine smile on his face. 

Neuvillette was thankful your back was to him. His golden eyes were slitted in pindrops and glowing in envy. He was trying to hold his anger back.

”The Usurper Morax, know this: I’m done with you all taking things that don’t belong to you,” Neuvillette stated, narrowing his eyes.

Zhongli simply put his hand behind himself, closing his eyes as he pondered Neuvillette’s words momentarily before a soft chuckle left his lips.

“And that’s where you're wrong. Although you control the notion of justice, I still have authority over contracts,” Zhongli replied. His eyes opened, much colder than before. The earth began to shake slightly—a warning of what he was still capable of.

“You got a taste of your desires. Now, you should head back to your newly settled nation. I don’t think after such conflicts, a war is what you would look to have. No?”

#genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #genshin x reader #genshin smut #neuvillette x reader #neuvillette smut #neuvillette imagines #neuvillette scenarios #yandere genshin #yandere genshin x reader

[munson-blurbs]

Argyle x Fem!Reader smut

Summary: Your plans tonight only involve ordering a pizza, but a conversation with the pizza boy has you craving something very different.

Warnings: smut (18+ only, minors DNI), phone sex, masturbation (m! and f!), voice kink, Argyle is a simp as per usual

WC: 1.7k

A/N: This was inspired by me and @word-wytch ordering pizza at Steel City Con where the pizza boy did not want to get off of the phone. Nothing spicy happened, but it made us think...what if it had?

Also, big shout out to @munsonmuses for helping me with the ending. Love you, Addie!

--

“Surfer Boy Pizza, this is Argyle speaking. Can I interest you in a delicious pie? Perhaps the Argyle Special?”

You stare at the shiny brochure in your lap, breath catching in your throat when you hear his voice. You were expecting someone brusque, rushing you off of the line so they can collect the next order, but the man speaking to you might as well be laying on a white sand beach. 

“Um, h-hi,” you wince at the way you stammer, tempted to hang up and save yourself further embarrassment, but you keep the receiver pressed to your ear. Lenora Hills is a fresh start, a place where no one knows you, and you’re determined to spread your wings and become more than the ‘shy, awkward girl.’ So, even though you were going to order a small cheese pie, you push yourself to ask, “what’s the Argyle Special?”

Soft laughter trills from the speaker; it’s warm and welcoming without a hint of malice. “Oh, the Argyle Special? She’s kinda my baby.” Good lord, the way he says baby has your thighs clenching involuntarily. You hear him shuffling a bit, adjusting positions to get more comfortable. “So, we start out with your classic thin crust.” Argyle lowers his voice and adds, “You might think you can toss it in the air a coupla times and call it a day, but you’d be wrong. You gotta knead it, get all the kinks out, right?”

“Mhm.” Your free hand begins to dip below the waistband of your denim shorts before you pull back. What are you doing? Touching yourself to a stranger explaining how to make pizza? “I, uh, I gotta—”

“Next comes the sauce,” he continues, not noticing your interjection. “Now, less is definitely more here, y’know what I’m saying? A little goes a long way.”

You nod, too caught up in the moment to remember that he can’t see you. “A-And then what?”

“Cheese. Enough to achieve that perfect amount of gooey goodness, but not so much that it weighs down the slice.” Another peal of laughter, just as kind as the one earlier. “Some people ask for extra cheese, but in my humble opinion, it takes away from the rest of the toppings, y’know?”

There’s a quiet swishing sound coming from his end, and it draws your attention. “What’re you doing that’s making that noise?”

“Huh? Oh, uh, yo-yo.” Your question has clearly caught him off-guard; instead of further explaining his baby, he asks, “what’re you doing?”

Immediately, your thoughts flit to the way your fingers yearn to be inside you, the way your clit aches to be rubbed each time he talks. But he can’t know that. “N-Nothing. Um, yeah, nothing.”

You can practically hear his brows raise in disbelief. “Doesn’t sound like nothing,” Argyle teases gently. “In fact, it sounds like you’re doing something important.” He pauses for a second. “Lemme guess: top secret CIA mission?”

“No.”

“FBI?”

You giggle despite the embarrassment washing over you. “Not quite.”

There’s silence; his audible breathing is the only way you know he’s still on the line. “You got a really cute laugh.” 

Is he flirting? This is flirting; it has to be. But he doesn’t even know what you look like. 

You don’t know what he looks like, either, and you were about to masturbate to him, you remind yourself wryly. Anything’s possible. 

“Yeah?” 

“Yeah. Sweet but also sexy. A rare combo, if you ask me.” 

You summon all of your courage; the ball is in your court. “I, um, I like your voice.” Heat pools in your cheeks as you say the words. 

“My voice? Shit, I always thought it was kinda goofy. My friend Jonathan says I sound like Cheech and Chong. Well, not, like, both of them, but just…one.” A rustling noise; he’s shaking his head. “Sorry, I’m not good with getting compliments and stuff.”

“S’okay. Me either.” You laugh again, finding the ability to be honest refreshing. “Keep telling me about your special. Your baby,” you amend. 

He exhales a cloud of lust. “Fuck, say ‘baby’ again.” Ah, so it had the same effect on him that it did on you. 

This time, you don’t chastise yourself for the way your fingertips graze your cotton panties. You and Argyle are clearly on the same page. Why fight it? “Tell me more about the Argyle Special, baby.”

“I gotta know first if you’re doing what I’m about to do,” he says breathily. 

“I am,” you affirm, finding your clit easily and applying the lightest pressure. 

A sharp inhale, then, just above a whisper, “Good. So, so good.” He unzips his fly and groans as his hand wraps around his cock. “I’m just gonna talk, and you keep touching yourself for me, okay?”

“Mhm. Just…keep going.”

“Shit, yeah, I got you.” Another moan as he strokes himself, his sentences getting choppier. “The toppings…I like to combine sweet and—mmf—savory.”

You tug your panties aside, slipping your middle finger into your waiting pussy. “Keep going,” you urge, desperate for his silky voice. 

“Some diced g-green pepper…sliced jalapeños…and…” Argyle’s focus is split between listing ingredients and jerking off, and one is evidently winning. 

“And what, baby?” There’s a slight edge to your tone—dare you say, a sultriness—as your ring finger joins your middle, fucking yourself with both of them. 

You’re not the only one who picks up on your newfound confidence. “And pineapple,” he manages. “Comes from a can…fuck, I can hear how wet you are.”

You whimper, forcing air into your lungs. Breathing has never been a manual task until right now. “It’s because of you.” Your fingers move faster; you curl them slightly to maximize your pleasure. “You and your voice.”

“I’d talk all goddamn day for you.” His voice is thick with desire. “I’d do anything you asked me to—oh, fuck,” he grunts. “What would you want me to do if I was with you right now?”

What wouldn’t you want him to do is an easier question, but you try to quickly formulate a response. “I-I’d want you to touch me.”

“More specific, honey,” he tuts. “Where do you want me touching you?”

Everywhere. Anywhere. You think about where your own hand would be if you weren’t holding the phone. “My clit,” you say urgently, “or my…my tits.”

“Mmm, I could put my mouth on one and my fingers on the—”

“No,” you insist, cutting him off mid-sentence. “Fingers only. Need to keep your mouth free so you can talk.”

A chuckle, then, “fair enough. Guess I’ll rub that pretty little clit of yours, huh? Make sure you’re ready f’me.” There’s a soft puh as he spits on his cock to lubricate it. “Wish I was inside of you. Bet you’re so wet…and warm…and—ohh, yeah— so tight…”

“I’m so close,” you whine, absolutely desperate for this orgasm. You tuck the phone between your ear and your shoulder, bring your newly-freed middle finger to your clitoris, now swollen with need. “Please, Argyle, tell me how you’d fuck me.”

“Oh, baby,” he rasps, the schlick of his fist stroking his erection becomes louder, faster. “I want you screaming my name. That sweet little pussy st-stuffed with my cock. And I’ll go deeper…and deeper…and deeper…until you can’t—fucking—take it!” He growls out the last four words. 

It’s enough to drive you to the edge. You don’t tell him you’re cumming, but he knows just from the choked moans that you’re there. Your fingers are shiny with the proof of your arousal as you finish all over them, wishing they belonged to Argyle. Wishing you belonged to Argyle. 

“I’m cumming, fucking shit, h-oh, my God.” He’s in another galaxy now, stars swirling around him as his release spurts from his aching tip and coats his hand in his sticky seed. “Holy fuckin’…whoa.” There’s a brief pause. “Gimme one sec, okay?”

Argyle’s racing across the kitchen, phone dangling from the cord, before you can even respond. “Sorry,” he says, panting and laughing when he returns to the receiver, “had to grab some paper towels and clean myself up. Can’t go walking around with jizz on my hands.” 

“Not a good look,” you agree, the warmth from your giggle melting any residual awkwardness. “You definitely need to wash them, like, a hundred times before you make another pizza.”

“Nah, man; I’m actually clocking out now. You were gonna be my last customer, but, uh…” he trails off, and it occurs to you that you never finished placing your order. “We got a little distracted.”

Distracted is putting it mildly, but you’re in no headspace for a semantics debate. “I guess I’ll have to call back the next time you’re working and try again.”

“Y-Yeah, for sure!” Eagerness dominates his tone, and he tries to rein it in. “Or, um, maybe you can come by in person? I’d like to see the girl who made me cum harder than I have since…ever,” he adds cheekily. 

“Mhm. I can do that.” Can you? Yes, you tell yourself, I can. I’m turning over a new leaf, and that apparently involves having phone sex with the pizza guy and then meeting him for the first time at his job. 

You swear you hear a quiet yet triumphant, “yes!” before he says, “You sure? Because I’d totally get it if you wanted to keep this a one-time thing.” His hesitation indicates that he’s no stranger to unrequited pining, like he’s bracing himself for a rejection. “But I gotta be honest with you; I really wanna see you.”

“I wanna see you, too.” You wrap the springy cord around your forefinger. If his voice could make you feel this way, imagine what he could do with his fingers, his tongue, his…

“I work from noon until six tomorrow, if you wanna stop in?” Argyle cuts into your train of thought. “Or if that’s too soon, then we can just—”

“Argyle?”

“Yeah?”

You smile widely even though there’s no way for him to know that. “See you at six tomorrow.”

--

#argyle stranger things #argyle smut #argyle imagine #argyle x y/n #argyle #argyle x female reader #argyle x fem!reader #argyle x reader #argyle x you #stranger things #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #argyle fanfic #smut

[skylersprompts]

DC x DP Prompt *4*

Jason had been a little better recently. He had the pit better under control, even though it reared his head from time to time. But it was easier to talk with the bats... his family.

But B's staring was making his skin crawl. The big bad bat was staring him down for over ten minutes.

"What?!", his tone was harsher than he intended, but that wouldn't make him back down. The silence carried own for a few beats, before his fahter batman finally graced him with an answer.

"I spoke with Constantin... awhile ago", it almost sounded like he wanted to talk emotions. Which could just mean something bad.

It took some moments before B continued. The emotional talk theory sounded more and more likely.

"There could be a way to help with the pit madness." - Bruce lifted his hand to stop any Protest from Jason - "I just want you to consider it. We won't do anything without your permission. It wouldn't even work without it. The entity is strong, but it is confirmed that it isn't a danger, as long as we treat this the right way", if he didn't know the old man any better, he would have thought that he was just as businesslike as always. But his jaw was clenched, his fingers kept twitching ever so slightly. His father Bruce was nervous.

And that was enough to reign the pit in, that kept whispering how they still didn't accept him. But that didn't mean he liked this idea.

So his answer was nothing more than a non committed grunt, before he swung on the back of his bike. The old man would be alright to wait for a bit.

.

.

.

It took months before Jason brought the conversation back up. The pit had been a bitch to reign in the last few weeks and today he felt at least somewhat like himself again.

They spoke just a little bit about what would need to happen, but Jason felt like his time was running thin. He didn't care all to much about the details at the moment.

Constantin was ordered to the cave and the summoning was prepared. Now blood or sacrifice was needed, which made this magic bullshit at least a bit more tolerable.

Beside the Batman, Constantin and Red Hood was also Nightwing there. He didn't want any of his other siblings by his side. Not when he felt so easy to irritate.

The Magician began the ritual and in the circle formed a whirlpool of lazurus water. If Dick hadn't been standing behind him, he would have bolted.

But after just a few seconds emerged a white headed boy out of the pool. The portal closed and left a confused, floating boy behind.

But before Constantin or Batman could say a word, the green (Lazarus green!) eyes landed on him. The being gasped and flyed directly to him.

.

.

.

Danny had been minding his own business, free from rouges and king work for once. His finals stood right around the corner and he took the time off to learn.

But of course he had to be summoned in the only normal time he had. But since the energy felt familiar, he was to 90% sure that it should be sad trenchcoat man. So it should be important... hopefully.

As soon has he looked around he saw John and the Batman! But there was an energy that pulled his attention.

His eyes widened. This poor... Revenant? Halfa?? He wasn't sure, but! He was one of his people and it looked bad. And he seemed to be around his age, what made it so much worse.

Danny zoomed over to him, to have a better look. And that just made it worse.

"That looks bad... who did this to you?", he whisperd with a horrified glance at the chest of the other boy.

His core was slowly poisoned by his own ectoplasm and seemed like there was not much time left.

#skylers prompts #dcxdp #dpxdc #dcxdp prompt #dead on main #maybe #Diana helped Bruce with his speech #because he would have said something in a way to hurt Jason #he knew that #so he asked his one emotinal intelligent friend™ #Danny is not amused about the situation #one of his people is slowly dying again! #Lazarus water is like a cancerous parasite #it eats away all the good ecto and twists ones obsession #till the ghostly host dies #Danny learned Ghost medicine from Frostbite #because he wants to be able to help Ellie and others #Jason will need a long time to recover #and it will hurt so fucking much #at it will be so much better if he gets healed #if it isn't already to late

[januaryembrs]

LAST KNIGHT IN SOHO | Steven Grant/Marc Spector x Reader [6]

description: Summoning a council with the gods sound easy enough, right? Except the man on trial knows the dark secret she has yet to tell Marc.

word count: 14.5k

trigger warnings: gore/violence (as per) blood, nakedness? Fear of drowning. I have said this before, Dove has a dark past with themes that include abuse in a relationship (torment, manipulation, prostitution etc) drug use, please do not read this if this is not okay with you. Inspired by Last Night in Soho (dir. Edgar Wright) which is rated 18.

main masterlist | series masterlist

“So? What about the other gods?” Marc asked, witholding a heavy sigh as he looked over at Khonshu, Dove still nestled into his chest. The vibrations of his words rattled against her forehead, and she wished that for just a single second she could get a fucking break from the life she lived, from the virus that seemed to spread to every area of her life, from knowing the only denominator that linked every awful thing brought upon herself was her.

If it wasn’t her every waking moment spent pining after any scrap of kindness Marc could give her, then it was wishing Steven was here to talk to. He always knew how to make it better. How to cheer her up. He was a lot like Grace in that sense, that he knew exactly which part of her brain was troubling her and managed to weasel his way into the darkness, draw out the sickness and replace it with only good. And if it wasn’t wishing Layla would understand she was not a home-wrecking mistress, then it was her dreams being riddled by Grace, the one sore spot in her heart that seemed to never heal.

She was starting to forget what Grace looked like, she’d realised with a numbing pain. Started to forget where her freckles were, the way she smelled, the shades of honeycomb blonde in her soft locks. She was forgetting, an ailment no amount of healing armour could eradicate.

She’d rather be ripped to shreds all over again if she could see her in the flesh just one more time. Even as a ghost, even as a mirage, she’d take it all again.

“Are they just gonna stand by and allow someone to unleash Ammit?” Marc asked his keeper, his large hand still resting on her crown with a warm softness. She sniffed, pulling away from him with a troubled frown.

“To signal for an audience with the gods is to risk their wrath,” Khonshu explained, resting his goliath form in an oddly casual sprawl on an abandoned car.

“What’s the worst they could do?” Dove asked emptily, her tired eyes catching sight of the dead bodies for a split second before she quickly looked away, pretending her stomach didn’t lurch at the puddle of red sap that pooled beneath them.

“Anger them enough and they’ll imprison Seth and I in stone,” That had her head shooting up to the bird-like god, brain whirring at the golden ticket out of this whole mess.

“What?” She asked, stepping towards him, “You mean they can do that? They can relieve us of duty as your avatars?”

“See how you fair against Harrow without the protection of healing armour, little mutt,” Khonshu snapped, and the girl deflated on the spot. That was something she hadn’t thought of. Even if she were no longer Seth’s avatar, Harrow would still be planning on eradicating innocent lives. It was too late for taking back that duty now, she was in far too deep to bury her head in the sand now, no matter how much she’d wanted to.

How many moles had Grace had? Four, in a horizontal line from her ribs to her spine, or was it five? Fuck, what colour were her eyes? Blue, she knew, but what colour exactly, what shade, what hue?

“Alright, so what?” Marc bit back, throwing his hands up in defeat. He, too, had had the fleeting jump in his chest at the idea of being free from his servitude. “You got any good ideas?”

The god thought for a moment, his skeletal chest taking a deep, weighted breath behind its linen robes. A sigh of dismay.

“I have a bad one,” He said, and with a small movement he disappeared into the cool breeze passing over the two of them, as if he were nothing more than a pile of ash, or a thought thrown to the ether.

The two of them spared a glance at one another, Dove’s demeanour still shaken when Marc surveyed her with a soft, cocoa gaze. The wind picked up around them before either of them could speak, Dove’s hair whipping around her sticky face, catching on her cheekbones, the need to peel and scratch and gnaw at her skin overwhelming her with the texture, anything to get the damned blood off.

“What is he doing?” She asked, her hand subconsciously reaching out for Marc’s when the world around her began to darken. But not just for herself, she realised, but because the sun was disappearing.

No, that couldn’t be right. Throwing a squinted, pained look at the clear blue sky, the smell of the metallic tang on her skin slapping her in the face. Her eyes locked on the white orb in the sky that was indeed being devoured by a slightly smaller black circle moving in front of it, the moon. Khonshu was creating a solar eclipse. Switching the light out on an entire section of the world, drawing far too much attention to himself than would be allowed by the gods.

“Sending the gods a signal they can’t ignore,” His deep voice echoed around the clearing, the wind carrying the sound to their sensitive ears.

She felt Marc take her hand as darkness swept over them, unnaturally fast for any solar eclipse, tugging her back towards the town where cries of startled citizens were beginning to meet her ears.

“Come on,” He murmured, his warmth grounding her astonished mind, her eyes quickly adjusting to the shadow that swallowed the sands.

“I don’t know whether to applaud him for the guts or curse him for putting you in danger,” She mumbled, not missing the way their hands seemed to gum together from the equal amount of ichor on them. She didn’t miss the way Marc’s knuckles were blown open, the flesh around them sore and sliced from his fist fight with the mercenaries. She made a note to fix them later.

“That tends to be the way with Khonshu,” Marc replied sourly, the two of them taking a long set of old sandstone steps back down to the city.

She huffed, more agitated than he had ever seen her with a solid frown on her normally gentle forehead.

“Well maybe when all of this is over, we find a way to get rid of them both together?” She proposed, and he couldn’t help but lurch at the fact she saw a together for the two of them after all of this. Not together in love, he chided himself, but Layla had been the only other person to ever see him as worth sticking around for. It was nice to have Dove too.

Flashing her a barely there smile, he squoze her hand lightly. It fell the second he caught sight of the bird headed god and his jackal like companion waiting for them at the bottom of the steps as if they heard their devious little plan.

“That was abit over the top, don’t you think?” Marc sassed, keeping hold of Dove’s hand and steering her away from Seth’s looming gaze, even if to hold off his intruding presence for a second longer than necessary.

“Hurry, they’re gathering their avatars now,” Khonshu demanded, the two of the goliath gods trailing behind their own minions.

“Aren’t they scattered all over the world?” Marc asked, and Dove was glad he was here with her at least, she was sure by the way her stomach was twisting so painfully she would have retched her breakfast by now. She was going to have to meet more gods? Not just any but the Ennead, the effective high council of Egyptian Deities and plead their case to the ancient beings? The current track record set by the Gods she had met had caused nothing but misery for her short life, so the idea of introducing eight more to that mix sent her chest pounding.

“Yes, but for a meeting with the Ennead, a portal presents itself anywhere,” Seth cut in, halting the two humans in their step. His face, his presence, was not one that they simply could get used to. A chill ran down both their arms, and she felt him tug her just a bit closer to him.

“Okay, so where’s ours?” Marc asked, and as if to summon the portal in question, a low rumble only they seemed to notice rocked the earth beneath their feet, though it seemed too delicate to be an earthquake, too harsh to be oncoming footsteps. It was then that bricks in the nearby building began peeling away, crumbling in on themselves to form a long archway corridor. The walls were lined with hieroglyphs she was certain wasn’t part of that building, more likely wherever it was the portal led to.

“Last time I spoke to the gods, they banished me,” Khonshu spoke solemnly as the two of them stepped towards the doorway. A faint, amber light flickered against the symbols etched into the stone walls, illuminating them with a golden glow that reminded her of Seth’s staff.

“Join the club,” Seth growled with a bitter chuckle, and Dove fought the urge to point out the sheer amount of times he had slaughtered his own brother for power that had led to his banishment, but she thought better of it than to be the one receiving his wrath. “Our case against Harrow must be indisputable,”

The two of them hesitantly stepped forward, Marc subconsciously moving in front of her as if to want to head in there first, check if it was safe. But there was no time for heroics, and he didn’t doubt Seth wouldn’t have her defend herself if things started to go south. Hearing the two gods retreating behind them, Dove whipped around to see the beasts slinking off through a nearby street.

“Aren’t you coming?” It was perhaps the only time she would ever want the God of Death there to support her case. Though, upon thinking about it, she guessed Osiris seeing his killer may not go down well considering the god’s reputation.

He snickered darkly, throwing a glance to her over his muscled shoulder that rippled with corded tendons with every movement.

“You know I love a family reunion.

Dove’s jaw slacked, her eyebrows shooting up into her hairline. They were so fucked.

Marc huffed, and the two of them stood looking down the long corridor with a shared hesitance. Once they went in, they were going in blind. Into a space where there were beings even more powerful than the gods they were bound to. Who knows what the Ennead were capable of, whether they were known to hold grudges around two exiled gods and the humans they deemed worthy of their service. Would they see right through her? Right through this innocent little marionette she played every single second. Would they see her for exactly who she was, would they see the chaos festering in her heart? The rot eating away at her bones?

“Ready?” Marc whispered, the sound barely meeting her ears. He looked over at her gently, eyes wide and anxious, though he seemed more worried about her than himself. Her eyes were glazed over, tired. Her hand was cold in his palm, yet she gripped onto him tightly as if he were the only thing she had to ground herself. She looked back at him, though he could tell she was far away, she wasn’t here with him, the same as this morning in the room, when her smile had cracked for just a single second and he saw the sadness behind her eyes that rarely appeared. He hated it.

She didn’t speak, just nodded and it was enough for him to draw her even closer, hold her hand even tighter.

The two stepped into the tunnel, their footsteps echoing down the long chamber, engulfed in a cloak of darkness from the lack of sunlight. It certainly wasn’t a new building they were entering judging by the erosion on the crumbling walls, though the hieroglyphs were surprisingly well preserved. A light flickered at the end of the passage, the only thing giving them any idea where to go as they clung towards one another. A large figure of a head came into view, starting small but the closer they got it became clear the figurine was actually huge, large enough to tower over both of them ten times over. She guessed by the head piece and the jewellery they were royalty, or at least the spouse of a pharaoh, well respected. Revered. A tomb for an esteemed member of Ancient Egyptian society.

She remembered Steven showing her a special edition guide to Egyptian myths they had in stock just three weeks ago, how he’d been waiting for them to get the shipment in for months since it was so low stocked everywhere else. He’d nudged her every chance he could get when they finally got to take their lunch break, turning his new prize to her to show her every diagram or photo or excerpt he could, telling her more facts that he’d read in other books, talking her ear off the entire train ride home too. She thought him the smartest man she’d ever met; thought his intellect, his sheer excitement to share his interest with her was the sweetest and most attractive thing she’d ever seen. He certainly didn’t make it easy for her to not kiss him silly right there on the spot.

Two more figures came into view, two behemoth statues flanking each side of the head, one a falcon, a distinctive crown atop his stone head, the other a woman with two large ostrich wings as her arms, curled around herself.

“I can’t believe it,” Marc’s head whipped to the side, Steven’s face reflecting in the polished golden engravings on the stone walls, his chocolate eyes lit up in wonder like a boy on christmas. His hands clasped together in front of him nervously, though his mouth was pulled into a gobsmacked smile, his gaze flicking around the enormous expanse of the room as if to take it all in at once. “Oh- my days. We’re inside- we’re inside the Great Pyramid of Giza,”

Marc’s head flicked to the room that opened up into a colossal square, unmistakably a pyramid built for the worthiest of pharaohs.

“Steven said we’re in-” Marc started, his voice low, gentle as if to not alert whatever it was waiting for them at the end of the corridor, only for her to cut him off with an equally hushed tone.

“Great Pyramid, yeah” She nodded, her eyes stunned and overwhelmed. Nodding towards the Falcon statue, she pointed with their joined hands, “That’s Horus wearing the double crown of Upper and Lower Egypt.”

“God of Healing and Protection?” Marc asked, recalling the few things he knew about the other gods. She nodded, her eyes never ripping away from the expanse of priceless relics in front of them.

“As a man, yes. Horus as a Falcon represents Kingship,” She explained, watching his eyes trail over her face with a strange look, softening just a touch more if it were even possible. Turning back to nod towards the other statue, “The woman with the ostrich wings is Ma’at, judge of the hearts of the dead. She represents justice and order, balance and morality. This was a Pharaoh who wanted the greatest of respects and fortune in his afterlife,”

Marc’s jaw slackened at her brain, practically seeing the cogs turning in her bright eyes, the flame from the torches dotted around the tomb giving her face a beautifully warm glow. She looked divine, as if it should be her with statues erected in her honour, as if she were the one who deserved a wonder of the world in her name.

“I think I’m in love,” Steven’s besotted voice came from the reflection behind him, feeling the alter’s eyes enraptured with her face just as much as he was. Marc nodded once, ripping his gaze away from her to focus on the unfamiliar territory ahead.

Now was not the time for childish feelings, he chided himself, though Steven’s words had cut him deep, confirming for Marc something he already knew. It wasn’t just a little crush he was in the way of - Steven was in love with this woman. And he was wrecking it, he was simply a wall in between two gentle creatures that deserve nothing else but each other.

He always knew he ruined everything.

A frown settled on his face, avoiding her gaze with a sneer as they ventured forward into the tomb.

“Come on,” He murmured, unclasping her hand and quietly stepping into the cold catacomb.

“One evening,” He had said, waving his finger in her face at the door like a master scolding its pup, “You girls can have one evening out,”

It was probably because the neighbours had started getting suspicious about the two girls that would sit in the window but would never leave, or perhaps it was a treat for being such good little victims and remaining complacent. They didn’t know. At first Grace had said it was a test, a test of loyalty. It wouldn’t be unlike him to give them a sick game to test if they really were faithful to his command. But perhaps it was a treat? After the two years they had remained in that house, remained together, this was the first time they were allowed outside that wasn’t the garden.

They were ecstatic.

Don’t be fooled, he was sure to collar the two of them before they could step foot out the door, his fingers squeezing just the slightest bit to tell them exactly what would be waiting if they were to run or go for help. Don’t be stupid, now girls, he reminded with a low grumble. And they were gone.

It had started with a brisk walk down the street, past the abandoned hotel that sat opposite their bedroom window, its welcome sign springing to life every evening even after its years out of business. The girls had a prance in their steps, truly with no idea where they were headed since they couldn’t see past a certain point from their spot in the window. Once the road turned into a long slope down, the houses getting bigger, the yards getting greener, the road getting quieter, was when it settled in that they were outside again.

“I don’t fucking believe it,” Grace whispered, her head tipped to the heavens, the crease on her brow ironed out. She took a deep breath, her mouth pulling out into the biggest smile she had ever mustered, Dove swore she could count every single one of her teeth. “We’re fucking OUTSIDE!” She yelled, no doubt waking up the neighbours. It was dangerous, drawing attention to themselves, but Grace couldn’t care. The Summer breeze filled her lungs, the seven o’clock sun fell over her face in full force, the feeling seeming to be extra warm than what she was used to. Because there was no window there. Because they were free.

Until eleven, in four short hours, but they were free nonetheless. The birds had never sounded louder, the air never tasted so sweet.

She couldn’t help but join Grace in taking a long, deep breath, a laugh bubbling out her throat, loud and joyful. Perhaps the happiest she’d felt in years. Like slipping out of a cage, a bird with its wings spread. She rose her arms to her sides, feeling the wind whip entirely around her middle, and suddenly the two of them were running. The street was empty, save for the two sets of footsteps slapping against the concrete as they sprinted down the descending hill, their fingers brushing against each others every now and then before Grace reached over and clasped her hand tightly against hers.

They were free.

It wasn’t long before they’d reached the beach, the one mother showed her as a child, the one she’d been to when the boys were little. It was nothing spectacular, nothing like they’d see in a foreign country. The sea was cold as anything since it was still England after all, the sand was mostly rocks, but the sound of the waves rolling in on their little slice of heaven.

The two lay on the hard sand, shoes kicked off and fingers buried into the course grain, just feeling. The sea was far from lapping at their feet; though ice cold, they wouldn’t find it in themselves to care anyway. The freezing water would barely even scrape the surface of the elation they felt now, there truly wasn’t anything that could simmer the way their hearts pounded in their ears.

“Three hours left,” She reminded, only to have Grace tut her and swat at her arm.

“We won’t be late, stop worrying,” The blonde chided, sand sticking to the side of her cheek as she turned her head in the sand to see her companion, “Just breathe,”

She knew she’d meant ‘breathe it all in’, the day, the feeling of their cage door being blown open, but she couldn’t help but do as Grace had commanded and take a deep salty breath in.

The sun warmed her as the shore breeze cooled her. A balance. An equilibrium. Her mind was blank for the first time in a long time. The waves may as well have been the thoughts ebbing and flowing from her mind.

“In some other universe, this is our life every single day,” She finally muttered, as if too scared to speak it into existence and risk waking up from whatever dream they were having. Grace snickered, their fingers meeting once more. Grounding. Warm.

“Do you think so?” Grace asked, her cornflour eyes squinting in the sun, watching the way her friend’s eyes remained closed, soaking up the entire thing. “You think we’re together in other universes too?”

“I hope so,” She responded, her toes sinking into the warm sand just a touch more, clinging to the back of her bare calves. “I hope I’m with you in all of them,”

Grace smiled, and her eyes opened then, meeting the sky with a tired blink before she turned to where Grace was staring at her. The two simply looked at one another, as if looking in a mirror of themselves though their shell was entirely different. Like their souls had met an equal in their gaze.

“I don’t care which one I’m in as long as I have you,” Grace whispered, clenching onto her hand with a soft desperation. She sighed, turning back to stare at the sky, a new openness at the difference the vast blueness held from her bedroom ceiling.

“I hate that house.” She confessed, though Grace already knew she did. “I feel like I’m-” She welled up, and Grace shifted to rest her forehead on her shoulder, “I feel like I’m in a coffin. Like I’m in a tomb. Like I’m screaming and banging on the door but everyone assumes I’m dead already,” Her brothers. They never responded to her letters, texting was too risky. But the envelope with the money made it to them once a month, she always sent it with the hope they would understand, understand she hadn’t left, that she wasn’t gone. But perhaps she was. She felt already gone. Felt like a corpse walking. “Maybe I already am dead,”

“I would never let that happen to you,” Grace whispered, nuzzling her face into her bare shoulder, “Me and you in every universe, right?” She asked, nudging her arm against hers to make her point, “Cage, house. Beach, tomb. I’m with you in every one of them,”

Dove’s breath was caught in her chest when she saw the sheer size of the pyramid. They didn’t call it the Great Pyramid for no reason, she supposed, but the sculptures alone were some of the biggest pieces of art she had ever seen, larger than any relics they had at work.

Marc took a slight lead, heading towards the centre of the room, where the floor lowered into a pit-like square, the floor a cold stone and undisturbed. Nine smaller, seated statues lined the steps down to the trench, one for each of the Ennead they guessed quickly. Eight doorways, similar to the one they had just exited from, dotted the remaining walls. A slight flash of light came from two of them, where a young woman stepped through the door to the close right.

She was beautiful, Dove noted immediately. Her sepia skin glowed in the dark lamp light, her midnight black hair silk over her shoulders. She was effortlessly graceful, beautiful gold jewellery winding over her wrists and neck, her eyes fox like yet gentle as she peered at the two newcomers.

“Khonshu’s antics are unparalleled.” She said with an accent Dove couldn’t place other than the melody it spelled over her every word. “You must be his avatar,” She said with a glint in her eye Dove knew was not just from the fire light. She was only a single pace behind Marc by the time he reached the bottom of the steps, yet she felt entirely lost, as though she were just floating her way down to where the woman met them, her legs jelly and wobbling.

“And who are you?” Marc asked politely, though she could sense the wariness in his tone. Untrusting. Ready to make a run for it if it came to it. She saw how his shoulders held the tension he rarely seemed to displace, she wished she could simply shove her face in between his shoulder blades, hug him like she had in the room. Feel him relax under her touch. She wished they were anywhere else but here. Anywhere but where the walls seemed inevitable, seemed to seal in around her, their very purpose to keep the dead inside.

“I’m Yatzil, Avatar of Hathor,” The woman announced, nearing the pair with a smile. Friendly, Dove noted, but she saw the way Marc tensed even further as she reached them, a look of plain fear flashing over his expression, as if she were about to be snatched away from him by the relatively kind looking woman. “Goddess of Music and Love? Surely Khonshu mentioned her,”

Marc shook his head slightly, a grimace on his battered face, “The gods aren’t exactly his favourite topic,”

“Not even when they are old friends?” Yatzil pushed, and Dove straightened up when she saw the playful way the avatar studied Marc with. Something boiled in her chest, something hot and sour, like her lungs were trying to choke her from the inside out. She didn’t like the way she was looking at Marc. To say he was hers only to look at drew even more tumultuous feelings in the pit of her stomach, but unlike Layla, who could barely stand the sight of him without steam blowing out her ears, she was interested. She was flirty.

She wanted out of this sinking ship already before she did something she would regret.

The woman looked over Marc’s shoulder then, only just noticing the shadow that seemed to peak from behind him, her eyes wide yet calculating, a vast contrast to Marc’s furrowed brow that glared at everything.

“And who might you be?” Yatzil’s voice was mellow as she took in the new figure, her gentle gaze never wavering. Perhaps she wasn’t so much flirting as she had guessed, and she wanted to chide herself for getting so worked up so quickly. Maybe she was just overly friendly to everyone, being the Goddess of Love and all that.

She was almost embarrassed with how quickly she had become possessive over Marc. It was hard not to when she was accompanied by an extremely attractive man that seemed to draw eyes everywhere he went. She thought she had enough trouble with Steven and Dylan, let alone a Goddess.

Chancing a look at Marc, the two of them agreeing solely with a single silent exchange, she told Yatzil her name.

“I’m Avatar of Seth,” She confessed, not missing Yatzil’s face tightening, her smile becoming a tad more forced. Her once gentle eyes became intrigued, looking the girl head to toe, before turning back to Marc.

There it was. The turn. The moment she realised she was not to be trusted. That she was rotten to her marrow.

“I did not know Seth had a new avatar,” She said, all traces of warmth gone as she surveyed the younger woman with a new suspicion, “How did this happen?”

“It’s a long story,” Marc cut in, sensing Dove’s anxiety by the way she fidgeted with her fingers, grabbing her hand back into his own to stop her from picking at the skin around her thumb. He hated it when she did that, saw how sore it made her digits, how she would bring band aids with her in her bag in case any of the scabs broke skin, “It’s not why Khonshu called this meeting,”

“Yatzil,” A voice called down to them, and it was then that the pair realised the rest of the avatars had made it, standing behind each of their podiums that represented their gods. They looked like regular people, though she supposed so did she and Marc. That was the point of them. It made Dove wonder if there were hundreds of them out there, if she had walked past them in the street before, thinking nothing of them.

Yatzil gave them a strained smile, leading them towards where the four other avatars stood, waiting to pass conviction on the two of them. She couldn’t help but feel like a lamb being led to slaughter after that stilted introduction, as though they were heading to a chopping block with cuffs and a bag over their head, the avatars facing them all judge, jury and executioners.

Her trial was over before she had opened her mouth. Just the very sound of Seth’s name had set Hathor on edge, let alone when she faced the god Seth had repeatedly assassinated. His own brother, Osiris. Or even his sister, Isis.

“Have they told you how this works?” Yatzil asked calmly, heading to the steps towards her own podium, where Hathor’s proud statue watched them approach, a pair of long cow horns straddling a large sun disk signalling her seat.

“Not really,” Marc answered for the two of them as Dove naturally fell behind his shoulder, gaze flicking to the new sets of eyes that peered down on their lowered figures. She hated the way they picked her apart with their unfriendly glares, vultures circling a carcass waiting to dive in and clean her off to the bone. They would have her for breakfast any second now. “Is there somethin’ we should know?”

No, they wouldn’t. Marc would never let that happen. Marc would protect her. She trusted him with every fibre of her being, trusted him as much as she trusted Steven. He would protect her.

“I try not to fight it, it’s a strange sensation but you’ll get used to it,” Yatzil said vaguely, bunching her rust coloured dress in her hands to ascend the ancient steps, her satin-like hair rolling down her back as she turned away from them. Her head flicked back jarringly, Hathor’s spirit consuming her body smoothly, as did the other avatars, the humanity flickering from their harsh stares and swirling into a bright white, the gods taking place in their vessels.

“In attendance,” Yatzil’s voice was still the same, though it held a new level of power, a confidence that only an other worldly being could carry, the clarity of a creature that had seen the earth for thousands of years, “Horus, Isis, Tefnut, Osiris, and Hathor. To hear the accounts of Khonshu and Seth,

A cold spread down her spine, minimal compared to the other few times Seth had taken her body as his own, gentle almost. A soft whoosh of power flooded through her vertebrae, spreading up her neck and through her throat, releasing through her lips as a small sigh. It was benign, as though there was simply a hand stroking down her back compared to the leg numbing force he usually took her with, the kind that made her head dark and fuzzy, the force of being locked out her own body, this felt nothing like that. Perhaps Seth was on his best behaviour in front of his older brother who they both knew could exile the God of Death to stone.

Tormenting and breaking a young girl's mind did not send the message of urgency the four of them needed the Ennead to understand.

She felt Marc’s hand twitch in her own, causing him to drop her palm once more, and she guessed Khonshu had also taken his place inside his avatar. Yatzil would have had a heart attack had she been put through what Seth had tormented her with if she thought this was a ‘strange sensation’.

The weight of Osiris’ glare fell upon her shoulders, and it became clear there was no love lost from the God as she looked upon his frown.

“Brother,” The growl emitted from the human man’s throat, a sneer tugging at his lips, “I trust this is your doing, you and your newfound play thing,” He eyed Dove’s cowering body with disgust, a calculating scowl on his relatively young face. The man couldn’t have been older than thirty five, dressed in a smart business suit and a face that not a single laugh line marred, as though he hadn’t smiled a day in his life. Fitting, she thought snidely, for a god so serious.

Yet those thoughts felt like Seth’s. And with it brought a new wave of peril, unlike the one that came after she would black out. Could he hear her thoughts? Had he buried herself into her head, her only place of solitude? Or maybe was her brain just that cruel all on her own?

“You should be on your knees thanking me, brother,” The words spewed from her chest unprompted, and it took everything in her not to clasp her hand over her mouth to stop it. It felt like someone had reached into her lungs and dragged the accusation up her oesophagus. It was a clap of thunder that echoed around the enclosed chamber, a dark cry that met her ears, leaving her gobsmacked that that was her voice.

“And why is that, brother?” A woman to Osiris’ right, his sister-wife Isis, snarled. Dove wanted to sink to the floor and beg for forgiveness from the two deities that looked at her with a disdain that tainted her skin. She wanted to plead for them to send her home, send her away from all of this mess, just please stop, stop looking at me like that. But instead what came out was the voice, his voice, ripping from her throat with a ferocity that was nothing like hers.

“Were it not for me, dearest sister, and Khonshu, we would not be here meeting to discuss a matter that threatens us all,” Seth’s growl seemed unnatural coming from such a small creature, her eyes wide and afraid as she cursed at the gods with his tongue. Whether it were Seth speaking or not, she was the one they looked to with hatred.

A slender, dark-haired man flanking the other side of Osiris, undoubtedly their son Horus, snorted bitterly, his eagle eyes gazing down the steps to the woman whose head snapped to him.

“You threaten us all, Set. You and your chaos. Your need for vengeance.” He spoke with an Irish lilt, his mouth sneering just as well as his father’s, “It is clear by your actions there is no end to the darkness and turmoil you wish to cause mankind, as well as to your own kind.”

Osiris raised a hand to his son, taking over the brunt of the reprimanding. Dove didn’t doubt this had been what it was like for centuries, she knew the pain of being the oldest and having to mother her own brothers. Though, exiling them to a stone for all eternity for endangering lives was a new concept even for her.

The eyes narrowed in on her as Osiris puffed out his chest to speak, his voice a calm command that rattled her bones.

“It is our job in these vessels to remain unseen, to keep the peace between our world and the humans,” He was rather quiet despite the petrifying effect he held over Dove, the way his and every other god sized her up as she quivered in her place. “Do you not hear how they cry out? That is fear. You scare them, brother, for your own personal enjoyment. We have long since understood you love the taste of their horror. Imagine the hatred they would feel if they saw what lay beneath that young flesh.”

Dove’s eyes lined with tears. She knew the insults were directed at her counterpart that could hear them just as well as she could, that she felt bristling uncomfortably in the back of her mind at the sound of the offence, yet the darkened eyes and sneers they accounted her with churned her stomach in guilt as if this were her own trial. Her own sentencing.

They would fear her if they knew who she really was. What she really was. And the sick part of her knew the darkness had laid under her skin long before any of this. She choked on the words Seth tried to force out of her, gritted her teeth for him to keep quiet, to just let the onslaught end. Let her sentence be carried out, let her be hung, drawn and quartered under their resentful gaze even if to let the pain end, just let it end, just let me go, release me from this life-

“Alright now-” Marc’s voice was fuzzy behind her, the slightest step he took forward towards the gods was stopped by Osiris’ angered voice, a firm look snapping to the new culprit.

“And you. You’ve been banished once for nearly exposing us Khonshu,” Just like that, their attention had been stolen from the pitiful girl that shook in her spot as if no more than a street dog, mangy and yet guilty looking. “And you know we despise your garishness,” He continued, Marc stopping in his place to hear what the high immortal had to say, “Your showy masks and weapons. But manipulate the sky again, and we will imprison you in stone.”

“Spare me your self-righteous threats,” Marc’s voice was a strained call of anger. Clearly Khonshu had a lot to say to the council, Dove mused to herself behind a weakened expression, “I was banished for not abandoning humanity, unlike the rest of you,”

“We have not abandoned humanity,” Horus chimed in, a pinched glower on his young face, “They abandoned us. We simply trust our avatars to carry out our services without calling undue attention to ourselves,” His eyes shifted back to the young woman who gulped under his fire. “Is this why you’ve resurrected the one who caused them so much pain? In the name of aiding the humans? Look at the bloodshed that has already been drawn under her hand,”

He nodded to the state Dove was in, the gummy redness that stuck to her arms, that buried under her nails, that smeared across her face. There was no denying that she had caused such a massacre. There was no running, no hiding from their judging eyes.

“Avatars are not enough! We need the might of gods. Return from the opulence of the Overvoid before you lose this realm. Seth has been the only one brave enough to unleash his strength on those who deserve it,” Marc jolted back as Khonshu left his body, a deep draw of breath expanding his lungs. Dove’s eyes flicked to him in sorrow, seeing the toll the god was taking on him, even if just for a second, the urge to bury her face into his arm and ask to go home overwhelmed her.

“The avatars that remain here are simply meant to observe. We decided long ago we did not wish to meddle in the affairs of man,” Osiris spoke calmly, though the order was clear. The two of them were to submit, to yield under their commands.

“We will decide our best course of action,” Tefnut cut in, under the guise of a glamorous earth-brown woman, her shirt a pop of reds and oranges that brought out her hooded dark eyes even in the lowlight of the tomb. Her gaze was just as intimidating as the others, though she looked at Dove with something more akin to understanding than the rest. The eyes of an elder, who had seen more than the others. A wisdom that only came with thousands of years on the earth they deemed unworthy of their protection. “Speak your purpose,”

“We call for judgement against Arthur Harrow,” Her own voice constricted at the rage that had now overcome Seth’s words, the vitriol that settled under her skin, that boiled her blood for a fight that was not hers.

“The charges?” Came Isis, in the form of a placid, moonlight woman, her doe-like, hazelnut stare serene yet piercing when accompanied with the disappointed purse on her cherry blossom lips.

“Conspiracy to release Ammit,” Khonshu’s exclaim ripped its way through Marc’s chest as a single tear dropped down the man’s tawny cheek from the effort in which the god tore at his psyche.

“That is a heavy accusation, Khonshu,” Osiris said seriously, bringing his hands together as if to search himself for guidance. The man took a deep breath, a silence settling over the room for a moment, the five avatars awaiting to hear their superior's judgement.

She practically felt Marc’s heart pounding in his bones, heard the way the deep breaths rattled his lungs, how his chest burned with effort. She was glad for them at least that Seth had listened to her plea to hold his, her, tongue, allowing Marc to take the brunt of the conversation. She knew the recklessness of the god would only dig them their own grave, that they would be left with little to no hope of taking on Harrow without his help.

Osiris sighed, looking to one of the smaller doorways burrowed into the side of the pyramid. “Let us summon the accused,” He ordered, an orange flicker of light emerging from the catacomb. Dove felt her chest seize at the whoosh of fresh air that came through the doorway, hearing two weary footsteps making their way towards them, scraping against the sand that dusted the hard, stone floor.

And with them, Arthur Harrow appeared.

Handsome for a man of his age, yet his eyes were soulless blue pits, little to no remorse for his schemes behind them. Instead, he seemed to be excited, jumping for the chase, the cat and mouse game the three of them had going. He seemed almost animated to see their newest intervention to halt his plans as he stepped into the tomb, a fake look of bewilderment on his older face.

His hair was greying wisps around his jaw, his suit a plain mahogany two piece that dragged against his espadrilles. He slowly stepped towards them with a cold stare, his jaw clenched in a hidden smirk as he sought the attention of the Ennead.

“So I see from Khonshu’s current makeshift avatar, the purpose for this meeting must be nefarious,” He said plainly, the false innocence in his expression causing a hot anger to wash over Dove’s face.

This time it was her own. Seth was still there, dormant behind her cranium, still seething from his reprimanding from his older brother, twisted with hate at the sight of Harrow, but the overwhelming feeling of outrage was hers.

“Not to mention this poor little soul Seth has taken as his own,” His blue pools of nothing slid to her, the dare to retaliate set and matched in his eyes, “The young one knows nothing of the trouble she’s causing, this is business well beyond her understanding,”

A threat. A call for a challenge. A taunt for her to show what she hid from the world, what festered inside her this whole time. What he had seen with a single touch of her wrist the first day they’d met in the museum.

There is a darkness in you.

And then it was that night all over again. It was the screaming, it was the pure, visceral hatred she had felt for him, for the man that had put her there. It was knowing she was never going home, that she was never going to see her sweet niece grow up to run rings around her teachers. It was knowing her brothers wished for nothing to do with her. It was knowing every one of her letters went unanswered.

And chaos, oh there is chaos,

It was remembering Grace’s laugh through a sob and the fact she would never hear it again. It was the way the light from the abandoned hotel sign next door lit up her room with red, something she had always hated, she could never sleep for the brightness of it. Then again, she struggled to sleep anyway. It was the red of the shoes the girls wore, the other girls, the others from the club. The emerald room, the way they watched her dance like a puppet on a string before things truly went wrong.

Something wicked this way comes.

It was knowing her brothers couldn’t stand the sight of her because of him, because of the choices she’d made for him. For love. She wanted to scoff. It was the men that came at night, the ones that she saw in her dreams even now, the ringleader of them all being the one to tell her what a good little lapdog she’d been for him. The one she’d called boyfriend.

It was the knife, it was the blood. It was the body that burned as she’d torched the house in her escape.

And I see you are truly something wicked.

“You know exactly why we are here,” Khonshu cried from behind her, though Harrow took no notice of the call, his mouth twitching to fight off a smirk as he saw the way her chest deflated at the sight of him, knowing he knew her. He knew her, the way Seth knew her.

The way she was terrified even now that Marc and Steven would someday know her.

“Rip his tongue out,” Seth hissed into her ear, chomping at the bit to be let out from the slight control she had over him in front of the Ennead.

“I must admit I do not miss the sound of that voice.” Harrow turned solemnly to the gods, the nervousness falling over his face like a performance. “But speak, old master, to the point,”

“Do you not seek to release Ammit from her tomb?” Khonshu accused, Marc’s body being seized by the god’s might. Dove grabbed his wrist in her own when she saw his chest heaving heavier by the moment. The man looked as if he might throw up any second from the weight of it.

“I was in the desert, but if visiting the sands were a crime, the line of sinners would be longer than the nile” Harrow said calmly, his hands weaving together in front of him to solidify the guiltless ploy he was giving, “Khonshu has searched for Ammit’s tomb since he ensnared be into his service. His vision is obscured by jealousy, paranoia and his-”

“COWARD,” Seth struck her chest with a lightning bolt of fury, the growl drawling from her throat in a volume that made her jump, Marc glancing her way when he felt her fingers clutch him ruthlessly, “Filthy, conniving CRAVEN,”

“Do not trust the word of shamed gods,” Harrow countered, turning to glare at the pair that looked at him helplessly, their chests pounding with the strain of a deity overtaking their vocal chords, “These two are unhinged, as willing as one another to cause destruction in the human world. And as for their avatars themselves,” Harrow huffed, though a smarmy smile shadowed his face as he looked between the two of them, “Well, they are about as unwell as the gods they serve,”

“How do you mean?” Hathor asked, a small frown scrunching her gentle almond eyes.

Harrow considered the two of them, his piercing gaze falling on the young woman first, a hint of malice flicking over his face as he watched her squirm under his ruthless stare, as if waiting for the killing blow, waiting for him to run a sword clean through her sternum. Get it over with, her eyes pleaded, let this be done, shoot me between the eyes and set me free.

“This girl,” He began, her breath catching in her lungs, “She seems innocent enough, what with the crocodile tears and the deer in headlights look about her,” Harrow gave her one last sneer, before turning back to face the gods with a faux woeful look plastered on his face, “But this fawn is in fact the hunter with a loaded rifle. I have seen what she is capable of, the anger and vengeance the tortured soul wishes to unleash on those who stand in her way, the corruption in her heart- it’s no wonder Seth found her suitable for his needs,”

Her mouth had gone dry, she realised as she swallowed roughly, tears burning behind her eyes, she felt Marc staring at her. Fuck. He saw her, he saw right through her. And if he saw her, then what would Marc think of her? What would he see if he were to crack open her muddled little mind and peer in? He would hate her. And oh god, Steven-

Her throat bobbed with a silenced sob, her chin wobbling pitifully.

“And as for him- This is a man who literally does not know his own name.” Harrow continued his onslaught, making Marc clear his throat uncomfortably at the fact his biggest wound was bared open for the taking, the scar that wouldn’t close having salt poured into the crevice. “He has a marriage certificate under the name Marc Spector-”

“LIAR!” Khonshu’s agitated attempt at regaining composure was thwarted by the glisten in Marc’s lost, cocoa eyes that seemed to do nothing but watch as his chest was pried open.

“Employment records under the name Steven Grant,”

“Stop,” This time it was Marc speaking for himself. His voice hoarse from Khonshu’s yelling, yet it was more of a wounded yelp, a plea for mercy from the man who knew everything about him, knew all of his darkest corners, and threw it out in the open for them all to see.

“I have seen him speak to himself-”

“Shut up,” Marc yawped, an animal in a cage yowling for release.

Dove felt the anger begin to rev under her skin once more. Marc had been immovable since the moment she knew him, the moment she saw him in her bedroom stiff as a rock as she’d hugged him. Had rarely shown anything but a cold indifference, if not the occasional smile. He had been the only thing keeping her sane between the entire situation, the one person she trusted to quite literally drag her back from the depths of death a thousand times over. Because, while he was a moody sod most days, it was Marc. And Marc would fight tooth and nail for her.

“I have no idea how many personalities he must possess,” She felt Marc weaken under the hold she had on his wrist, “The man is clearly insane,”

It was happening in slow motion. Just as Marc crumbled into a disheartened sigh, the frustrated tears welling in his eyes, the final chord holding together her growing temper snapped. She felt her vision blacken for a moment, as if she had taken a long blink, which she wished she had in hindsight, she’d read on the internet closing your eyes and taking a deep sigh temporarily relieves stress. Something about giving the synapses a moment to process information. But she hadn’t. And neither did she feel the imposter crawling up her spine the way she did when Seth wanted her body as his own. No this was her, this was her entirely alone.

By the time she had come to, she had taken two quick steps towards the snide man, fingers outstretched for a sharp slap across his high cheekbones when she felt five metal claws hugging her fingertips, the razor edge of each enough to take a sizeable chunk out of his face had she made contact.

But she didn’t. Because no sooner had she gotten an inch away from doing so, her hand was stopped by a cerulean ring cuffing her hand mid air, preventing her from moving in the slightest.

Osiris. His hand held the same bluish-grey energy between his two fingers as he seethed down at his younger brother’s avatar.

“We will not tolerate violence in this chamber,” He bit, forcing the girl to her knees to face him, her head hung to the floor. She felt Marc’s eyes burn the back of her skull, his legs itching to approach, to wrap her up in his embrace, if only to protect her from Osiris’ hate. She chewed her cheek in guilt, when a thought quickly struck her as she looked to her knees ashamed.

Her suit, the one Seth usually donned her in. She was in her suit. She had never summoned her suit before, had steered clear from the fact entirely actually, yet the material was stretched comfortably over her skin as it was all the other times Seth shoved her consciousness aside to make room for his own deeds.

But she had summoned it herself.

“It brings me no pleasure to tell you these are two deeply troubled individuals. Khonshu is taking advantage of him the same way he abused me, the same way he aspires to abuse this court. As Seth is preying on a chaos-filled, young woman whose only goal is nemesis. Take action before it is too late,”

Dove tuned him out, her own internal crisis weighing far heavier than the insults Harrow was hurling to her. She had brought out the Hellhound herself. Not as Seth’s puppet or as his doll for toying with but as herself. As a reflection of what she wanted to do to Harrow.

For the first time in almost a decade, her body felt like it was almost her own again.

“Let us speak to Marc Spector. He seems the more reasonable of the two,” Horus ordered, and Marc almost scoffed at them had he not been so hurt by Harrow’s words, not been so defeated by the doubtful looks the Ennead had in their once cold glares now that his illness had been revealed. “Are you unwell?”

It was direct. Inescapable. And yet he didn’t care for their judgement anymore, just the fact she seemed uncomfortable being forced to her knees so harshly, a mongrel forced to sit quietly for a bone.

“I am.” He breathed hoarsely, “I am unwell. I need help. But that doesn’t change the fact that this man is-” Marc could barely finish his sentence without trailing off in angered tears as he glowered at the floor, knowing there was very little he could say to change their minds, “Would you just let her go? Please?”

“This is a safe space for you to tell us if you feel exploited by Khonshu-”

“This is not about my feelings, I am not the one on trial here, nor is she. It is him,” Marc seethed at Hathor, Yatzil, who’s pitiful eyes bore into his skin, flaring his anger, god would he just let go of her, look how her head hung low, how her knees pressed painfully into the cold floor, how she was forced to submit, “This is about how dangerous he is if you would just listen for a second,”

“He has committed no offence,” Osiris ruled coldly, tired, as if the situation bored him completely. “This matter is concluded.”

And that was it. The bonds that held Dove into low obedience were ripped away from her, her hands finding the floor gently as she stayed there, her head dipped to glare at the stone, the anger ebbing and flowing at her hot face like the banks of the Nile.

“And brother?” Dove’s head perked the slightest amount, though it was not her, but Seth responding to his counterpart on his behalf. She looked up at the god through broken, reddened eyes, a tear glistening on her cheek that she let fall to the ground with no fight. “Cause chaos like this again and you’ll be begging for a ushabti when I’m finished with you,”

With that, the avatars were returned to their bodies with moonlight white eyes, a jolt in every one of their spines, before they began heading back to their portals with not a single word uttered between them. As if Marc and Doves lives hadn’t just been raked out for all to see, all to judge. All to sentence.

Walking past the girl still crumpled in defeat on the floor, her heart too heavy to lift herself, Harrow watched Marc’s angered eyes carefully, a final sneer on his shit-eating expression.

“I’d leash that bitch of yours before she hurts anyone else, Spector,” He murmured, loud enough for the two of them to hear, not loud enough to cause a scene.

Like a dam breaking, her shoulders sank in on themselves, Marc quickly rushing to meet her on his knee, a warm hug wrapping around her where he could, just as she expected.

“Hey come on, we need to go, princess,” Marc whispered to her, and she could do nothing but give a sad nod, avoiding his eyes at all cost.

“I’m sorry,” She whispered, a sob crawling up her throat that felt even more present when she saw her clawed fingertips staring back up at her, “I’m sorry I tried, I tried to push him down, I-”

“Shhh,” Marc soothed, nosing her hairline, “It’s alright, it wasn’t your fault,” He murmured, hands going under her arms to lift her off the ground carefully. She stood, not without clutching onto him, gently of course since her suit and weapons made it difficult to not hurt him, and the entire idea that she had conjured it herself seemed tainted by the way they had looked at her. The way anyone would look at her if they knew.

“Marc,” A voice whispered, but Dove was too lost in her own self pity to take note. She felt as if she was back on that beach, her eyes lost in a canopy of blue, the wind cold on her skin. Lost in the world, yet seen, too seen, by those gods, by Harrow. Too trapped in her past, in what she’d done, knowing there was nothing stopping what Seth wanted her to do. Feeling for the first time, with the suit around her that she had summoned, she had ownership over herself, feeling as if she entirely wanted nothing to do with it.

Release me, release me from this wretched body, release me from this head, take me from this pain with a quick death.

Yet.

Keep me here, grant me control, let me greet my own demise.

An equilibrium yet to settle. A scale tipping to and fro, a puzzle with no solution. A set of coordinates with no longitude. Continuing. Unanswering. A person missing half their soul.

She, impossibly so, felt worse than she had when she woke up.

She found herself again laying back on the hotel bed, staring at the white, plaster ceiling. After Marc had spoken with Yatzil about a possible solution to finding Ammit before Harrow and his followers, the pair of them had headed back to the hotel in silence. Well, Marc had attempted to make conversation as he led her to the taxi, but it was clear from her lack of response, only broken by the occasional sniff or nod of her head, that she was in no mood to talk.

Taking a deep sigh from her place on the cot, she lifted her hand to run over her tired face when she was stopped by a crusted sap rolled up between her fingers at the touch, and she let out a clear gasp, jumping up from the sheets.

In the daze of it all, she’d forgotten she was covered in blood under her suit that she coaxed into disappearing before the taxi pulled up. Her face, hands, legs, all smeared with the sticky substance that now stained the white duvet.

“Fuck, oh fuck, for bloody fuck sake, fucking shit-” She swore violently, bunching her fingers into fists at the sight, Marc ducking into the room from the small balcony faster than she could let out another curse.

“What’s going on?” He took one look at her sad eyes, the way the redness smattered over her face, guilt flashing in her expression as he saw the mess on the sheets.

“I’m sor-”

“I’ll have my guy tip the cleaners, it’s no biggie,” He brushed off, taking a step towards her, attempting to uncurl her fists manually with his much larger hands that had just as much blood on them. Though, it was mostly his from where his wounded knuckles were now weeping. “You should probably take a shower though, we’ll raise too many questions looking like this,”

She barely nodded, eyes glazing over as she understood what he was saying. Clean yourself up, you’re scaring the locals.

“They only have a bath,” She murmured quietly, avoiding his eyes, scratching at the blood that quickly dried on her arms, picking at it like the glue that stuck to your skin as a kid making crafts, coming away in thin, onion peel layers.

“I’m sorry if it’s not the nicest hotel around, but my guy did his best-” Marc snipped slightly, watching her face scrunch up in frustration.

“No, no, not that, it's lovely, I’m just-” She took a deep breath in, her lungs rattling, her throat constricting with the secret she’d never had to tell. He’d think she was ridiculous, a woman of her grown age. “I can’t take a bath,”

“Of course you can, I’ll go run it for you now,” Marc headed for the bathroom, sick of this back and forth. He just needed her clean, needed to get that shit off of her, get rid of that guilty look in her eyes, needed to fix everything-

“No, wait,” She stopped behind him as he turned the brass tap, hot water gushing into the luxurious, square bathtub that had been built into the nude marble, stacks of ‘freebies’ and candles lining the edge. This was definitely meant for a honeymooning couple wanting a sexy week away under the Cairo sun, banging in every room, not two people who were barely friends possessed by gods and racing to stop the end of human lives. “Wait, Marc,”

“What?” He barked, turning back to face her with the first annoyed glare he’d given her all day. She knew the pair of them were at the end of their tethers, and that he was trying to care for her in the way Marc always did, the kind that only half the time involved actual any affection. “Look, I know it’s full of rose petals and shit, but I’m trying, princess,-

“It’s not that it’s-”

“I know it’s shit but it’s the best we’ve got, and I know Steven would have gotten you somewhere better-”

“I’m scared of water, Marc,” He shut up at the sight of her deflated expression looking at him through embarrassment, shut up at the sight of her squirming on the spot at his irritated rant.

“Huh?” He hissed, utterly thrown off by her words, feeling as if he hadn’t heard her correctly, “You’re fine with water, you’ve showered at Steven’s before. Is it me? I can go if you want privacy-”

“No, Marc just stop, please,” She mewled, turning her head to her hands ashamed, picking at the skin that had come loose, no matter if it pained her so. “It’s not you, I- I can’t be underwater, like under under water, not like showering when it’s only there for a second, it’s more drowning than anything, so baths are just a no go,”

But she sounded far away. Because the realisation for Marc had set in, the understanding of being scared to be held down, to feel the water rising up your legs, past your knees, up into your lungs. And then he was back in that cave again, he was feeling the water trickle in, he was screaming for RoRo to talk to him, to take his hand, he was hearing his brother’s little body splashing, hearing the water crowd his throat, drown out his cries for help. He was climbing out of that wretched cave soaked and running back home to tell his parents what had happened.

Taking a laboured breath to remind himself he was in the bathroom, with her picking at her nails, the tap running being the only sound between them for a moment. Sighing heavily, he fought the tears that burned behind his nose, forcing them to be swallowed down in the interest of helping her.

“What if I stayed?” He asked, her head shooting up to look at him in shock, mortified he was being so brazen. Rolling his eyes at her naïveté, he continued, “I’ll turn around and just sit on the toilet seat, but I’ll stay. Make sure nothing bad happens,”

She went quiet for a moment. She needed to get clean, get this forsaken muck off her, it was driving her insane. The smell of it alone, fermenting under the hot sun, was turning her stomach, not including the fact she felt rotten every time she thought about where it came from. Those bodies, that boy.

She nodded, the hot water steaming up the window by the time she’d decided.

“Okay, yeah. I suppose that would be okay,” She murmured to herself, fidgeting nervously. “You’ll just sit right there?”

He nodded gently, his hands coming to pull her fingers from mauling themselves, “Absolutely. Right there.”

“And you won’t look?” She asked shyly, eyes batting up at him through tired lids, to which he smiled slightly.

“Not a peak, now come on, bath’s almost full,” He ducked out of the bathroom to allow her to get undressed, not missing the way her fingers seemed to cling to his hand for as long as possible before he left. “Call me when I can come in,”

“Okay,” She replied through the thickness of the door. Taking a deep breath, she tucked her clothes into a neat pile under the sink, despite the fact they were wrecked with the same red gunk she was going to have to scrub off her skin. Switching the taps off gently with two squeaky turns, she held onto the bath edge with a deathly tight grip. It was only a foot of water, and Marc was right there. He wasn’t here anymore. Bath’s had once been her favourite part of the day. She loved a bath, had never felt so relaxed. She wanted to scream at the way her chest locked up as she stood in the water.

It was piping hot, scalding her skin, and maybe it was the punishment she deserved for all the blood she’d shed. Maybe it was the toll she had to pay to get clean.

Sinking to her bottom, she couldn’t help but clench onto the side of the bath for support, eyes locked on the way the water swayed towards her. It was just a bath, she’d had one millions of times before him, he wasn’t here to-

“You can come in,” She called, conscious of the way her back was to the door, swishing some of the french lavender bubble bath in to make the water milky, obscuring any sight of her body he would have caught a glimpse of.

Not that he would try. Marc was much too respectful for that.

He came in wordlessly, shutting the door behind him to keep the warm air in the bathroom. Plonking himself down on the toilet seat, he saw her hair spill over the lip of the tub edge in his peripheral vision, but little more.

For a moment they were both silent, uneasy at the new atmosphere created. The humid air was thick in their throats, the excuse they gave themselves as to why they weren’t talking. Marc inhaled the sweet vanilla and floral notes of the bubble bath, cursing himself when his mind ventured as to that being what she would smell like all evening.

“I’m sorry the room is so…” Marc trailed off. What was he to say, so clearly meant for two people on a nonestop fuck-a-thon? Aside from the fact the minifridge was stacked with whipped cream and chocolate spread, not for breakfast he’d had to explain to her, the bedside table full of condoms, the bathtub filled with rose petals, it was very obvious they stuck out like two sore thumbs with their rare and short affections in a place like this.

“What? Straight out a porno?” She quipped, earning a short laugh from him, symphonying the splash that came as she began scrubbing at her arms finally.

“A high end porno atleast,” He corrected, the tension in his shoulders loosening when he heard her giggle.

“Right,” She drawled, leaning over to grab the chamomile scented soap, “No one’s getting stuck bent over a tumble drier any time soon in a place like this,”

Maybe it was the fact she couldn’t see him, or it was the least shitty thing that had happened all day, but Marc couldn’t help the way a laugh, a real, chest tightening laugh, spilled out his throat. It was completely out of character for his glacial demeanour, usually the best she’d get is a smirk he’d try to hide or a huff through his nose. But it was a true, amused laugh. She smiled, despite the water coming away pink in her fingers as she scrubbed.

A brief moment passed over them where the only sound came from her hand dipping in and out of the water. This wasn’t so bad, she supposed, if she ignored the way her stomach rolled with bile every time she felt herself slipping further into the water. The milky pool itself wasn’t what scared her, it was the waiting to be pushed under, held under despite her clawing and scratching at his arm. It was his way of keeping her in check, reminding her even in the bathroom she was not permitted to privacy, to her own thoughts. She still felt his hand weaving its way into her hair, shoving her down until the water rushed up her nose, the gasp she’d let out choking on the exotic scented liquid. It was all just another one of his little games, and when she’d resurface, spluttering and clamouring out of the tub, he’d simply laugh and tell her to stop locking the door.

She hated the smell of that soap anyway. Too rich, too perfumed, too fake.

“I used to bath my brothers when I was younger,” She said after a while. She didn’t know why, or what had made her think about it, or why Marc needed to know, but she said it anyway.

“Yeah?” He replied, sounding distant as he picked at the blood under his own fingernails. “How many?”

“Four, all younger,” He blew air out of his cheeks solemnly, “We didn’t have much money, it was just my dad and he could never keep a job to save his life. I tried getting a job but turns out minimum wage for thirteen year olds is pennies,”

Marc stayed quiet, chewing at his lip. He had yet to ever hear her talk about brothers, or parents, or anything other than Steven and how much she wished he was here. That and of course why James Bond is a chauvinist, though he knew the first one was much dearer to her.

“Sounds rough,” He bit out, feeling the need to remind her he was still listening. He saw her shrug from behind the curtain of hair that fell behind her, obscuring his view.

“We got by. I was hungry some nights, but we were happy. They were happy. That’s all I cared about,” Marc felt a guilt gnawing at him. Sure, after RoRo passed his mother became a beast that had yet to release him from her claws, but they had never worried about money. Their house was easily three stories high, he had a meal three times a day, Elias always took him out to buy a new toy when Wendy had been particularly cruel. Birthdays, Hanukkah, Thanksgiving, he always had whatever he wanted. Anything, except his mother’s love, but that couldn’t be bought, could never be earned back for what he’d done.

He felt disgusted with himself for being so self piteous about his childhood when Dove had barely afforded to eat at risk of her siblings going hungry.

“I used to get Matty in there first, he was the oldest. Only a couple years between us but he loved when I would give him his toys the others weren’t allowed to play with. We used to have to share everything, clothes, toys, school books, so having his own boat in the tub made him feel special.” A smile, achy but good, passed over her face, a warmth blossoming in her chest at the thought of the life she hadn’t had in so long. “He knew he had to be quick because there was only one tub of water to last all five of us, so we used to play ten rounds of I-spy and then he’d have to get out. Eventually he’d pick the most difficult thing to spy so I’d never guess and he’d get to stay in longer.”

Marc stopped then, watching the back of her head with a silent stare, quickly understanding she was in her own world entirely. “Then it was Sam’s turn, he was a year younger than Matt. He hated getting shampoo in his eyes so insisted I washed his hair for him, even though he made me swear to never tell his friends because it would damage his street cred,” She chuckled to herself, sounding far away from where Marc cracked a small smile, “Kid was seven years old and thinking he was tough enough to take on the world.”

“The other two?” Marc prompted with an ache, a need to know more. More about the little Dove that tended to her hatchlings, to her nest, whose voice sang with something he had never heard from her, a sad kind of happiness he never thought possible.

“Joey was next. He’d start to complain that the bath water was getting cold by this point so I’d sneak some water in from the kettle. He was a little younger than us, I think mom and dad had thought three was it for them. But two years after Sammy, out popped Joey. Fattest baby you’ve ever seen. Refused to speak until he was three, and then suddenly he was blurting out full sentences.” She smirked, eyes glazed over as the pink swirled into the water, beginning to run out of where it dried in clumps in her hair. She would need to wash properly, she realised. Wetting a flannel, she held it behind her, careful not to get any droplets on Marc’s leg. “Marc?”

He snapped out of the reverie he felt he shared with her, his head filled with the image of four little boys, a mirror of her. Maybe their noses were a little bigger, their jaws sharper, but their hair would fall over their shoulders the same way, unless she’d trimmed it for them. He pictured her running ragged after them, reminding them to floss, to tidy their rooms, to do their homework.

“Yeah?” He asked, taking the cloth from her hand.

“Would you be able to get the…” Blood. Blood. Blood. “Stuff out my hair please? I can’t get my head under but it’ll dry soon if I don’t get it now.”

“S-sure,” He said softly, almost caught off guard that she was inviting him to get even closer to her nude form. Setting a towel on the floor, he turned the small bin over to give himself a seat as he gently ran the wet cloth over her locks. He would need to use shampoo probably, there was some on the side of the sink but he refused to push her. “What about the youngest?”

“Micheal,” She said, her voice pure with sweetness. “He was definitely a surprise. Came three months early, came out kicking and squealing like he had a vendetta against the world.” She chuckled to herself. “He was so tiny I could get away with washing him in the kitchen sink. Matty would say we could peel him and put him in a stew with the rest of the potatoes. But he was so good, he would follow me around when I got home from work, even when he turned into a teenager he would never leave for school without hugging me and making sure I had lunch. I never did, but I would lie because otherwise he would worry too much about me,”

The crimson seeped out of her hair with every brush of Marc’s hand against the locks, but he didn’t care. He was too caught up hearing her bliss. She was different like this. Yes, she was usually happy, bar the few times she had gotten teary over the blood and gore, but speaking about her brothers made her glow with something new. A bliss he hadn’t seen in her yet. One he wished he could cling onto with everything he had, keep her wrapped in like a bubble of her happiest memories.

“By the time I got in the bath it was cold, like fully cold. And the water was dirty, I tell you three boys and a baby get into so much mess than I’d give them credit for,” She continued, her eyes fluttering closed at the way he gently stroked her head, stopping every once in a while to re dampen the flannel in the water. There was no way he could see anything since the soap had made it so cloudy, but she didn’t think she could find herself to fully care with how loose her body felt, floating under the heat. She found herself trusting him enough to lean back into his hold, relax under his touch instead of flinch. Because it was just Marc. And Marc would never do that.

She tipped her head back to give him an easier access to her scalp, sighing when his fingers seemed to pick at a clump, removing it manually when it wouldn’t release with the cloth alone. Her stomach flipped as to a guess as to what it could have been.

Flesh? Brain matter? You tore those men to pieces like the savage you are, it’s no wonder Osiris said the people were scared of you, you’re beastly, disgusting loathsome creature who deserves every bit of pain Seth gives you-

“Four brothers and a father? You and your mother must have been ripping your hair out in testosterone,” He said, gently smoothing the tangles out of her tresses, continuing to wipe at the tangles until the water ran clear.

“Just me. Mom ditched when Mikey was born,” She said calmly, though she felt his hands stutter as she did. “It’s fine. She believed that giving her son’s biblical names meant god couldn’t see her drug benders. I think she forgot her kids could though,”

Marc hesitated. Words, some that he couldn’t fathom putting together, caught in his throat. He hated the pity people would give him whenever he were to divulge his own secrets he kept hidden in the dark rooms of his mind even Steven had no access to.

“Please say anything except I’m sorry, otherwise I may have to give you a big wet slap across the mouth,” She quipped, relieved when she heard a small snigger, finally. She’d hate to lose that calm, carefree version of Marc she’d had this evening. Hate to scare him off like the spooked rabbit he was, send him racing down into his dark burrow again. “But yeah, it was grisly being the only girl until Billie was born,”

“Billie as in another brother?” Marc asked with a confused frown.

“Billie as in my niece,” She replied, making a gentle start to clean the gummy resin off her face, “She was named after Billy Joel when Matty lasted all of one week being sixteen and got a girl pregnant. Girl bailed on the kid as soon as she was born, Matty felt like he could do a better job of it than our dad could, and Billie was family. Although she somehow got it in her head that she was only allowed to listen to Billy Joel since that’s where her name came from,” She snickered, remembering the countless mornings she chased the naked toddler as she screamed ‘We Didn’t Start the Fire’.

“How old is she?” Marc asked, the water running mostly clean now, yet his gentle pawing at her hair had yet to stop, more for his own state of mind now than her own. She was so soft, soft everywhere. Even the way she sighed into his touch, the few times his fingertip had met her neck, met the top of her spine. Soft, warm; inviting, addicting. Clean, good, pure, god she was heaven on earth. Fixed, he could fix it, fix her hurts.

“She’s…” Dove quickly counted in her head, coming up with a thick throat when she figured the answer. “Nine. She’ll be nine now,”

Nine. She’d missed so much of her little life, she’d barely been at school when she’d left home. Missed her losing her first teeth, missed her learning to ride a bike, missed moving to bigger school.

She’s better off without me. Dove chided sourly, though tears built in her eyes.

“You see her much?” He prompted, letting the short bout of silence settle over them as she rinsed her face carefully.

“No, I uh-” She cleared her throat, her head tilting down to play with her fingers, picking with her thumb nail under the rest, “My brother’s don’t speak to me anymore,”

Marc froze. This, unlike the other time he’d been ready to apologise, felt like dangerous territory. While her mother walking out had felt like passing news to her, this felt like a rope unwinding thread by thread, getting ready to snap in his face at any point.

“Oh,” He eventually came up with, stuck between wanting to ask more and wanting to keep his distance. A tug of war between himself and wondering what she wanted him to do. What Steven would do. “How come?”

“Just you know, life got in the way. We all said some things, did some things,” She sniffed, her eyes closing as she skirted around the truth, “Truthfully I don’t deserve their forgiveness even if they did want to talk,”

“Come on now,” Marc reasoned, his eyes filling with a softness only she saw, his fingertips caressing her scalp with a gentleness he didn’t know his battered hands could muster. “I’m sure that’s not true,”

“It is,” She cut him off definitively, “I think, sometimes, maybe I was just born wrong. Like I just came out the womb rotten. Like I deserve the way the gods looked at me today, like I’m every bit as revolting as Harrow says I am,”

“Hey,” Her head flicked over her shoulder at the anger in his tone. She hadn’t meant to spill, hadn’t meant to overflow her brain like that, have the words jump right out her throat. Maybe she was too relaxed here. She expected judgement, or disgust, or pity. But no, Marc just looked pissed. “That is not true, do you hear me? Everything he said about you is wrong,”

“But if he’s wrong, then why does all this happen to me? Why does it happen if I don’t deserve the badness?” She asked him quietly, because Marc knew all the answers. Marc knew everything, always knew what to say even if he didn’t realise it.

He took in her damp, clean face that stared up at him in naive grace. Her eyes gazed right up at him into his soul, seeing past every defence he had tried to throw up against her, everything unintimate between them gone as she soaked away the blood.

“Sometimes these things just happen to people. Sometimes there is no deserve,” Marc said after a moment to chew on his words. His hands cupped her face gently, her eyebrows furrowing as his thumb wiped the wetness from her cheek that rolled down in a couple glistening bubbles. “You are amazing, do you hear?”

She was silent.

Marc, in what was possibly the most tender thing he’d done since he’d first met Layla, slowly leaned forward, his lips coming to rest on her forehead. Her eyes fluttered closed, a held breath exhaling on his clavicle, cold unlike the warmth of her cheeks.

He drew back, the scent of french lavender and vanilla invading his lips, tasting sweet on his tongue.

And yet the pit of guilt only sank in Dove’s heart at the gesture. The pit that devoured her every second of every day. She didn’t deserve his kindness, his sweet words or his saccharine kisses. Marc would hate her if he found out what she was, who she was. If he knew the reason she left home, left her brothers.

If he knew she was a murderer.

MCU

@blackcat420---69

KNIGHT IN SOHO TAGLIST

@shirukitsune @s-u-t @ahookedheroespureheart @willowseason @imonmykneessir @acceptedbyace @broadwaytraaaaash @mythicalmo @stevenknightmarc @avery8895-blog @fandombrackets @thelostlovedone @raythecomputerart @nyctophile-moon-child d @unknownduck0 @emily-roberts @cheshirecat484 @lockleywife @strangeobsessed @thebestrouge @0bsessedwithfictionalcharacters @dumbhxeredrose @badbishsblog @jvexoxo @sxftie-mari @mythical-goth @cillmeslowly @seraphimcollections @katboops @kmhappybunny240

PERMANENT TAG LIST:

@greeneyedblondie44 @liadamerondjarin @pedrosgirlx @andy-rocks @musicartmayheminmyheart @howlerwolfmax @ciarra–mae @lou-la-lou

#marc spector x reader #steven grant x reader #marc spector fanfiction #marc spector imagine #moon knight x reader #moonknight imagine #moonknight x reader #steven grant fanfiction #steven grant imagine #jake lockely fanfiction

[just-my-latest-hyperfixation]

Demon!Eddie part 4

Premise

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

# hype's demon!Eddie fic

Because, see, that is usually what it boils down to. If you do not count the teenagers and college kids who do it out of sheer curiosity or a test of courage, people who summon a demon are usually pretty damn desperate. You don’t bargain with the creatures of hell for shits and giggles. He’s seen all sorts in his time on the job. The people who have lost loved ones and would do anything to speak to them, to see their face one more time. Those who are being eaten alive by some fatal illness and just want to live for a few more years, just long enough to see their kids grow up or make sure their spouse is taken care of. Those are the harder cases, because even after all those years, their anguish still makes something deep inside of him stir, something that he should have killed and buried long ago. 

But somehow, he doubts that Richard and Charlotte Harrington are like that. 

He’s proven correct only a second later, when Richard takes a deep breath and speaks. 

“My company is struggling with the economic crisis. Stocks are failing, our customers are running away, and … and we will lose everything.” One of his hands finally lets go of the old tome to sweep their surroundings in an all-encompassing gesture. The expensive furniture, the shiny floors and finishings, the lamp-lit patio. “I can’t let that happen.” 

Of fucking course he can’t. God forbid he lose his bigass mansion and pool, the shiny car that's sure to be parked in the pristine driveway outside. 

“The good old money, fame and fortune package,” he nods sagely. “You got it.” 

There’s a beat of silence. 

“Really?” asks Charlotte. Her face is weary and she is slowly starting to inch around her armchair. Like an animal considering whether or not to take a bait. “You can do that? Just like that?” 

He shrugs, unimpressed, makes a show of inspecting the rings on his fingers for specks of dirt. 

“Sure can. I was hoping for something more creative, in all honesty, but who am I to judge your hearts’ deepest desires, eh? I’ll set you up with more riches than you can spend in this lifetime, no problemo. If the compensation is right, that is …” 

When he looks up, their eyes are shining with barely concealed greed, just like he knew they would. Humans are so dull, really. Tempt them with a shiny treat and they'll be falling over their own feet in their haste to stumble into their own doom. 

"Of course," Richard says. "I'm a businessman, I don't expect to get things for free. What amount would you-" 

"I'm not after your money, you silly man." His smile is wide and feral and the hollow where his heart should be thrums with delight at the flash of fear in their eyes. "No, I trade in commodities far more precious than that."

Richard's brow twitches impatiently. 

"Well then," he growls. "What do you want?" 

Part 5

#steddie #steddie brainrot #steve x eddie #steve harrington x eddie munson #steddie fanfic #fanfiction #fanfiction writer #fanfic #my writing #demon!eddie munson #hype's demon!eddie fic

[im-totally-not-an-alien-2]

Sephiroth is accidentally summoned to Amity Park by the GIW who were trying to summon Phantom to capture him.

Phantom comes to his aid. Thinking he's a ghost due to his ghost sense activating due to all the mako in Sephiroths body. The silver haired psycho was at first amused by all of this up until the people in white started going on and on about how they are with the government and going to capture Phantom and do awful painful experiments on him and possibly make an army out of him and Sephiroth had heard enough. For a spit second, he saw himself in that child.

By the time he calmed down the only sound around him was the sizzling of half melted rubble and the crackle of downed live electrical wires. Phantom was staring at him in shock from the large glowing cage he was trapped in. The silverette was prepared for a lot of responses to the slaughter the child had just witnessed. Cheering, tears of gratitude, people calling him inhuman, a monster, but nothing like this kid. He simply asked, "Are you okay?"

This child was an enigma. Even after freeing him from his prison with a single swipe of Masamune he made no moves to flee. No matter how many insults or threats he made the white haired boy stayed. Appearently he had defeated the child in one on one combat and as a unattended ederich child spirit, Sephiroth was now his legal guardian. Usually he would be apposed but Mother was whispering to him in the back of his mind, cooing over her new grandchild and praising her son for getting such a good catch. If he were a lesser man he would have sighed.

Phantom soon revealed he had no where to go and certainlycouldn't return to his biological parents. His parents were evil mad scientists that attacked him once they learned what thier experiments had done to thier son. They wanted to study him in perhaps the cruelest ways possible. The "ghost zone" or "Infinite Realms" as its truly called was filled with his enemies and had no way to nourish his living half, but the living world had no way to nourish his ghost half aside from portals and harvesting ectoplasm. Aside from portals being both rare and fleeting, harvesting ectoplasm is no easy task especially when dodging evil government groups.

Phantom would have to find a new dimension to live in. One with ectoplasm readily available for harvest, but first they needed to tie up loose ends here. Phantom went into hiding on Sephiroths orders and the child quickly obeyed. The silver General on the other hand went on a warpath, destroying the laboratories and portals and the people who made them.

Phantom, now in his living form was saying goodbye to his friends and sister giving them wierd PHSs he had modified so they can communicate with him beyond dimensions (impressive) and portal guns he had made (again Sephiroth was impressed) so that they could visit him from time to time. He promised to send them the dimensions coordinates once they got there.

It wasn't long until they were in a dimensions they both liked floating above an outright filthy mako pool in some soft of cave system. Danny wasted no time busting out machinery and hooking it up to the Mako pool and purifying it.

This is, of course, when Batman gets a camera notification that someone is messing with Gothams Lazarus Pit.

Fic featuring: Sephiroth becoming a father mentor for Danny, Bruce being adoption blocked, Sephiroth agreeing to abide by Batmans "ridiculous" no killing policy and them making him pseudo regret it by carving the Joker up like a Christmas turkey. Hood got it on his helmets visual recording and he sent Sephiroth flowers, Danny casually vibing with the bats and birds until he does something blatantly eldrich, Danny asking his new mentor "if I grow out my hair will you teach me how to take care of it?", Sephiroth and Phantom just vibing, ptsd representation, Sephiroth seeing himself in this kid and deciding to be the savior that never came for himself.

#fanfiction prompts #prompts #dp x dc #final fantasy vii #sephiroth #sephiroth adopts danny phantom #they vibin #danny is just absorbing any and all information sephiroth gives him #danny phantom #danny fenton #Danny and Sephiroth both have ptsd and danny discosiates #i cant spell sorry #autocorrect doesnt even know what im teying to say #Damian is somewhat obsessed with Sephiroths odachi and wants it #tim is preparing to be attacked by yet another new sibling #just in case #batman is displeased by two obvious metas in Gotham but they have only acted in self defence and they cant seem to get rid of them #think of the chaos

[lovelyyandereaddictionpoint]

Chapter 4 would be interesting with Crewle daughter as she not childhood friends with both Jamil and Kamil but more like civil

So let's used half snow leopard fae as they are weak with magic but they used summoning spells ( yes they are different, summoning used more elements compared to magic as it requires energy as summoning monsters are in a different dimension that bleeds in to reality, think of Bayonetta how she summon her demons )

Be interesting as she is mean outside but she is sweet when you get to know them

Bonus if she lets Kamil to touch her very fluffy tail and ears at the end

Chapter 4 w/ Crewel Leopard-Fae Daughter Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland

“Ew go to Scarabia? Why would I risk tanning when I already am just perfect!”

“B-but don’t you think you want to see your friends?”

“Friends? They’re not my friends: they’re the plebians that have that weirdo nice guy.”

Mean on the outside? Sweet on the inside?

You must not be familiar

She’s not exactly friendly with anyone who isn’t Leona

Grim and your fairy godmother practically have to drag you over

“Hmph the carpet’s okay.”

“Don’t you think? I’ve wanted to bring you up here for the longest time!”

“Ew don’t be so honest! You’ll stink up the room with your attitude!” 

“But aren’t we outside?”

“Are you questioning me?”

“Well yes but–”

“So you Are a clueless idiot then!” 

Needless to say Kalim’s whipped 

So when he can’t exactly remember why you’re staying 

Especially after you called it a richboy’s stinky palace

But he couldn’t careless

He can’t seem to get enough of you

Jamil on the otherhand is always amused around you

Snide and snippy he just can’t cease his urge to poke at you

Which may very well lead to his downfall when Azul and the Tweels come to your aid

You have your suspicions and Azul would delight in assuring you

For free even 

Given a chance to eliminate adequate rivals was too good to pass up 

“Are you serious!? Another?! I mean I know why I did it but come on now really!?”

When the overblot happens and you get shot back with Azul and the Tweels

You’re livid and if you can muster anything of your fae heritage its the claws

Which Azul demands you retract because Floyd’s getting a little too excited

You arrive with the octotrio you help stop Jamil 

And immediately after the overblot dissipates you slap slash him

Absolutely livid and unswayed by Kalim’s attempt at a pool party

“HOW DARE YOU! HOW DARE YOU! HOW DARE YOU GET ME COLD! GOT ME WET! AND GETTING SAND ALL OVER COUTURE DRESS—”

“(Y/n) don’t–” “DON’T TELL ME WHAT TO DO AND YOU HAVE THE NERVE TO–”

It’ll go on for hours 

And you will make him feel sorry 

If not for overblotting and attempting to hypnotize everyone

But for being an inconvenience to you

Leona’s the only one to stop you

Arriving from his own vacation 

And catching your clawed swipe as he waits for you to regain your composure

“Hmph! Its only because of Leona that I’m letting you off easy.”

“Breathe. The yachts set and waiting; I got worried when I hadn’t seen you in so long.”

“Its all his fault…now let’s go. I need your masseuse, at this rate all my tension will explode on some poor soul.”

Jamil is passed out and foaming at the mouth

as you walk arm in arm with Leona

You will not be letting anyone but the vetted staff on Leona’s yacht

He can ask all he’d like but you’d  sooner mar his face then let him

“She-she–”

“She really was mad! In a weird way she’s even cuter when she’s like this! Well I forgive you and hey! If you’re heartbroken it’ll make things work out between–”

“T-that was…the most I’ve gotten from them…”

“You have…scars all on your face…”

“That. Was. Magnificent.”

#yanderes x leopard half-fae crewel daughter reader #leopard half-fae crewel daughter reader #yandere x reader #yandere x you #lovelyyandereaddictionpoint #yanderexrea #yandere #yanderes #yandere twisted wonderland #yandere harem #yandere x creweldaughter reader #daddy divus crewel #papa crewel

[sacredsnape]

Hi lovely ♡♡

Can I please request a soft smut oneshot where Snape's girlfriend is a virgin and he's super sweet and gentle with her during their first time? Thank you!

Hi anon <3 thank you for this cute (and smutty) request!

Genre: smut

Warnings: soft dom!Sev, sub!reader, praise kink, size kink, loss of virginity, experienced Sev, fingering, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, gentle sex, aftercare, mentions of masturbation

Masterlist

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You've been dating Severus for about five months now, yet the furthest you've ever gone with him is a handful of heated makeout sessions and groping random parts of each other.

You craved him; you wanted to feel more than just his lips kissing your neck and his large hand squeezing your thighs. You wanted to feel him, all of him.

However, you were a virgin and frankly too embarrassed to tell Severus this.

To suffice, you created the habit of waiting until he went to bed to masturbate; you'd sprawl out on the sofa and slip two fingers inside of your aching core, your free hand clamped over your mouth as you stifled your moans, imagining that it was Severus's big cock thrusting into you instead.

You knew that he was big, judging by the visible imprint in his trousers and sweatpants. This made you even more nervous to talk to him about having sex, as you were scared that it would hurt.

However, everything changed one fateful October evening, when you and Severus were snuggling closely in your shared chambers at Hogwarts.

He was reading to you, his slender fingers combing through your hair as the deep timbre of his voice lulled you. Being so close to him and inhaling his strong, sweet scent whilst being kept warm by his body heat and the fireplace in the corner, caused a pool of heat to begin to build in the pit of your stomach.

"Sev?" you mumbled, biting your lip as your boyfriend made eye contact with you. His dark eyes and intense gaze always turned you into a puddle.

"Yes, my sweet girl?" he smiled, placing a bookmark on the page he had left off on. He set the book to the side and awaited your response, his smile only growing.

He placed a hand on your cheek and leaned forward to kiss you, and you audibly whimpered, already so worked up from desiring him for so long.

"Oh?" Severus cocked an eyebrow at you, smirking. "Someone likes being kissed." He pressed his lips to your cheek and you giggled, his words ebbing away some of your anxiety.

"I um," you began, rubbing the back of your neck nervously. "Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, darling," Severus replied, laying back to look at you.

You inhaled deeply, summoning up all of your courage before meekly asking him, "Would it bother you if I was a virgin?"

Severus made a face of surprise, clearly taken aback by your question. Your heart sank; Severus hummed thoughtfully for a moment before he shook his head.

"It wouldn't bother me at all, sweetheart. Why are you asking? Is it because you're a-"

"Yes," you cut in, your cheeks flushed red. "I am, and I want to have sex with you if that's okay."

You said this all very quickly, yet Severus managed to catch every word.

"Yeah? My pretty girl wants to have sex with me?" he chuckled, pressing his forehead to yours. Your breath hitched and you licked your lips, nodding shyly.

"I'm just scared that it'll hurt, and I don't want to disappoint you or anything because I won't know what I'm doing," you confessed, your heart pounding as Severus's fingers trailed along the column of your throat. You wouldn't be surprised if he could feel your rapid pulse in your throat.

"I'll be gentle with you, love," Severus promised, his fingers enclosing around your chin. He tilted your head up and pressed his lips to yours, making you whimper again.

"I've only had sex once before," Severus said as he pulled away, "and I promise to make your first time special."

If you weren't so unbelievably horny right now, you would've cried out of gratefulness for Severus.

"Thank you," you whispered, your words being swallowed as Severus returned his mouth to yours.

He rolled on top of you, holding himself up with his arms. He kissed you deeply, slowly, his clothed knee gently pressing in between your legs.

You gasped against his mouth, the new friction sending a new wave of arousal through you. "Sev," you whined, your chest heaving as he applied more pressure with his knee.

"Does that feel good?" he asked you huskily. He sounded and looked so good, his eyes half-lidded and his lips parted. A light blush colored his sallow skin, and his hair was disheveled from laying down earlier.

"It feels really good," you answered, trying your hardest not to grind against his knee. You wanted to make the moment last and come all over his cock, not his knee.

Severus lowered himself and pressed his body flush to yours, enveloping you in his warmth. His hand found its way between your legs and he pressed two fingers against your sweatpants, his eyes widening when he felt that they were soaked.

"Gosh, baby, you're already dripping," he murmured, sounding amazed. "I want to taste you."

"You want to taste me?" you asked him, breathless.

Severus nodded, pecking your cheek. "Only if you want me to, baby. I won't do anything that makes you uncomfortable."

"I want you to do it," you said, feeling more confident now. You made to tug your bottoms off but Severus stopped you.

"I'll take everything off, okay? Just relax." He smiled at you and carefully slid your top off over your head, moaning softly as he saw your breasts for the first time.

"So pretty," he admired, leaving wet kisses all across your chest. He licked one of your hardening nipples and you cried out, pulling on his hair.

"Aw, is my precious girl sensitive?" Severus cooed, beginning to tug down your sweatpants and underwear.

"Yes," you whimpered, squirming underneath him as he continued to work his tongue and mouth on your breasts.

He sucked and licked, drawing the prettiest sounds from you as you pulled on his hair. His tongue was so good, and you couldn't wait to feel it in other places.

"Spread your legs," Severus instructed you and you listened, spreading your legs as wide as you could. He removed the remainder of your clothing and then set back on his heels, admiring your nude body.

"You're a work of art," he sighed dreamily, laying down on his stomach. He placed your legs over his shoulders, gingerly kissing your inner thighs.

"I'm so wet for you," you blushed, timidly rubbing your clit and moaning quietly. Severus watched you, an almost hungry look in his eyes. You looked away, becoming flustered under his gaze.

"Do you want me to make love to you with my tongue, princess?" Severus asked you, his face inching closer to your pussy.

You nodded eagerly, spreading your folds for him with two fingers.

"I can't hear you, doll. Use your words."

You huffed and pouted at him, and Severus smirked in amusement. "I want you to make love to me with your tongue," you stated, loud and clear.

"Good girl," Severus praised, his lips trailing along the apex of your thighs. You were trembling with excitement, knotting your fingers in his thick hair and waiting for him to press his tongue against your-

"Oh," you gasped softly when Severus pressed his tongue flat against your slit. It was a feeling like no other; his tongue was warm and heavy against you, and your fingers faltered on your clit, too stunned by the new feeling of pleasure to continue.

"Feel good?" Severus asked you, his voice muffled. He had his face completely pressed into you, his nose nudging against your clit.

You tried to speak, but no sound came out. Instead, you released a shaky moan that let Severus know that it indeed felt good.

Severus licked a long stripe from your entrance to clit and you cried out, your thighs clamping tightly around his head.

"Relax, angel," he comforted you, pulling himself free from the confinements of your thighs. You caught a glimpse of his shiny, wet lips and moaned shamelessly, aroused at the fact that he had you all over his lips.

"Sev, Sev," you mumbled, your brain feeling fuzzy as you struggled to take all of the new pleasure at once.

"Baby, baby," Severus laughed in response, sucking lightly on your clit. Your back arched off of the bed and your entire body shook, your eyes slamming closed.

"Your pussy is so pretty, Y/N. It tastes even better," Severus moaned appreciatively, licking your clit enthusiastically. "You're such a good girl for me."

"I'm your good girl," you breathed, your sentence being broken by your own moans. You clenched hopelessly around nothing and you whined.

"What is it?" Severus questioned as he heard you whine. "Tell me, pretty baby."

"Need something inside of me," you pouted, looking down at Severus and gasping at the sight between your thighs; his tongue was splayed out across your swollen clit, his face set with concentration.

You wanted to engrave the image into your mind and keep it there forever.

"Of course you do. My angel knows what she wants." Severus pressed a loving kiss to your clit before dragging his fingers along your slit, coating them in your arousal.

"I'm going to put a finger inside of you, okay? Tell me if it hurts at all," Severus warned you, positioning his finger at your entrance.

You debated on telling him that you've fingered yourself before and that you were used to the feeling, but you didn't want to ruin the moment for him. You simply nodded and spread your legs wider, causing them to ache in the new position that they were in.

Severus slowly slipped one finger inside of you, massaging your walls with it. It was such a familiar feeling, reminding you of the times you'd fuck yourself delirious on the sofa.

"More," you pleaded, craving more friction and feeling. You played with Severus's locks, loving the way that his hair framed his face.

"Eager baby," Severus hummed, kissing your clit again for good measure. "Are you sure?"

"Please, Sev."

Severus carefully inserted another finger and the stretch was wonderful. You felt yourself spasming around him as he resumed licking your clit, his fingers working in and out of you at a steady pace.

A familiar tightness began to coil in your lower stomach and you tapped on Severus's arm, moaning weakly.

"I'm close, but I don't want to come on your fingers," you panted, brushing your hair out of your eyes. "I want- I want to come on your cock."

Severus's tongue halted on your clit and his fingers stopped moving. He raised his eyebrows at you, his lips curving into a smirk.

"Okay, beautiful. I'll give you my cock." Severus pulled away, removing his fingers from your pussy. You felt achingly empty and pulled Severus towards you by his hips, kissing him desperately. You could taste yourself, and you tasted almost sweet.

"Want you to fuck me. Please please please," you begged, nearly in tears from how badly you wanted him.

"I need you to tell me if anything hurts, okay?" Severus told you as he worked on removing his clothing. He slid off his coat first and you reached out to feel his rough, scarred skin, sitting up to kiss and worship his chest. Severus groaned softly, stroking your hair as he watched you with eyes full of love.

Your hands fell to the buttons of his trousers and you looked up at him through your lashes, wordlessly asking him if you could take his trousers off for him.

Severus nodded, watching with bated breath as you unbuttoned his trousers. You slid them down past his thighs, tentatively reaching out a hand to cup his hard length over his boxers.

He was so big, and he throbbed against your hand as you palmed his cock curiously.

"What if it doesn't fit?" you worriedly asked Severus as you pulled his boxers down, your eyes widening as his cock sprang free. The head leaked pre-cum and a long, thick vein ran along the underside of his shaft; overall, he was long and oh so thick, and your mouth practically watered at the sight of him.

"We'll make it fit, sweetheart," Severus assured you, leaning down to kiss you. He kept his lips on yours as he pressed you back into the bed, grabbing your thighs and placing your legs around his small waist.

He gathered some of your wetness on his fingers, lathering his cock in it. Your chest was rising and falling quickly, anticipating the moment that Severus finally slipped inside of you.

"Ready?" Severus murmured as he lined himself up with your entrance, breathing heavily. He was struggling to compose himself, already on the brink of coming undone just from seeing you laid out for him.

"Ready," you confirmed, planting a kiss on his nose and then the corner of his mouth. "I love you."

"I love you more, darling," Severus replied tenderly. You were about to protest that you loved him more, when the head of his cock slipped past your folds and you fell silent.

"Deep breaths, sunshine," he whispered, caressing your face. You took deep breaths, your brow drawn tight. "There you go, just like that."

Severus slipped in inch by inch, tracing the shape of a heart onto your cheek with his nose. You giggled, hooking your arms around the back of his neck and waiting for him to bottom out.

When he did, you and him moaned in unison. You were being stretched in every way possible, your walls expanding to fit all of him. His cock fit inside you so perfectly, like it was meant to be there.

"S-Sev," you stammered, clawing lightly at his back. You felt so good and so full that breathing normally almost became an impossible task.

"I know, baby, I know," Severus soothed you, his thumb rubbing circles into your clit to ease you up. "Tell me when to move."

You raked your nails up and down his back, concentrating on your breathing and the pressure already building in your stomach. You felt like the head of his cock was hitting your cervix, or maybe you were just imagining things because you were so aroused.

Either way, you wondered how you could have gone so long without Severus buried deep inside of you.

"You can move now, handsome," you let Severus know, smiling up at him and stroking his cheek.

Severus nodded swiftly, pulling out and pushing back in, cursing at how good and warm you felt around him.

"You feel incredible," he whimpered, thrusting gently in and out of you. "You're so perfect."

You bit slightly into his shoulder, causing him to hiss out in pain. He snapped his hips against yours and you let out a feeble cry, muffling your moans as you hid your face in his shoulder.

"Someone's shy." Severus pulled you closer, thrusting into you at the perfect pace and angle. "You're too cute."

You felt swallowed whole by Severus being on top of you, his cock reaching so deep. You rolled your head back onto your pillow, giving Severus a full view of your blissed-out expression.

"It feels so good," you moaned to him, reaching around for his hand. His hand that wasn't on your clit found yours, and he held your hand as he filled your senses with nothing but him.

"You're taking me so well, love. You're absolutely gorgeous," Severus groaned, rubbing faster circles into your clit. "My good girl, the best girl."

Your heart swelled at his praise, rocking your hips in time with his. He thrusted faster yet remained gentle, not wanting to hurt you.

"You're so deep. I can feel you in my tummy," you said with an airy giggle, already feeling so fucked out. The sounds of wet skin slapping against wet skin and gruff moans filled your ears, and it's all you wanted to hear for the rest of your life.

"Mmm," Severus hummed in response, leaning into your neck and kissing the skin there. He grabbed your hand and pressed it down on your tummy, and you gasped when you actually felt him there.

"I'm going to fill you up. Would you like that, honey?" Severus thrusted firmly to emphasize his words.

"God, yes. Please, I'm so close." Your legs trembled around his waist and you kissed him needily, the tip of your tongue brushing against his.

Severus rubbed your clit hard and fast, his skin shining with sweat from his extertion. He pulled your legs against his chest and the new angle made your eyes flutter. "Fuck, Y/N, I'm coming."

You felt Severus release inside of you, his warm seed filling you to the brim. It was an amazing feeling, and it made you feel even more connected and close with him.

"Me too, fuck!" you cursed, your mouth falling open in a harsh moan of Severus's name. You came hard, squeezing around his cock and draining him of every last drop of his cum. Orgasmic bliss coursed through you and your entire body convulsed, creaming all over him.

Severus's fingers slowed on your clit until you were whimpering and clutching onto him, all the breath knocked out of you.

"I loved that so much," you admitted cheekily, your inner thighs sticky and wet as yours and Severus's cum dripped out of you.

"I'm so glad that you did. You were so good for me." Severus smothered your face in kisses, rolling his hips into you once more before pulling out, rubbing the head of his dripping cock on your overstimulated clit.

You whined at the overstimulation and Severus shushed you with a kiss, picking you up in his arms.

"I'll run us a bath and we'll snuggle afterwards, yeah?" Severus suggested, securing you in his arms so that you wouldn't fall.

You agreed and Severus carried you into the bathroom, setting you down on the bathroom counter and turning on the bath. He filled it with colorful bubbles, waited until it was warm enough, and then you and him got in.

You pressed your back to his chest and let his hands wander, grinning when he began to massage your thighs.

"I love you more, by the way," you said as Severus washed your hair with a sweet smelling shampoo.

Severus playfully rolled his eyes and grinned, holding you close. "I beg to differ, but I'll let you win this time, beautiful."

#severus snape #snape love #snape content #professor snape #snape fanfiction #snape imagines #snape one shot #snape fanart #snape fic #hogwarts #snape smut #pro snape #pro severus #pro severus snape #severus x you #severus x reader #snapedom #snape community #severus art

[thetinygentledoggy]

Rose Thorn In His Side

A/N Hey! This is gonna be my first fanfic ever, and kind of long so bare with me as I world-build. I get nervous thinking about posting this but my maladaptive daydreams just come up with the best material I have to type it out. This is gonna have some key points that I've entirely made up and doesn't exist in the TLW universe but hey, anything to make the story flow yeah? Lastly, this is Fem!Rabbit (medium-sized)(Y/N Ramirez)x Death(Lobo)

conejita = bunny (fem)

if there are spelling errors feel free to alert me! enjoy ☆

_________________________________

Chapter One: Table 7a.

'I am definitely a morning person.'

You thought to yourself as the sunlight from your bedroom window basically blinded you. You sighed, it must be 10am. You always woke up at 10am. No alarm needed, somehow your body knew what awaited it and got itself up without much help.

'I am absolutely a morning person.'

You tried to convince yourself as you stretched and felt all of the stiffness from sleep crackled and popped itself away. You finally summoned the energy to stand and immediately a shiver shot up from your feet to your head. The floor was ice cold, making you want to jump back into the sunny warmth of your bed. But instead, with a heavy sigh you treaded forward into your bathroom. You splashed warm water on your face and when you did you realized your face was cold as well, and the water felt nice. You let the water form a shallow pool in your hands and gently placed your face there.

'Maybe you really are a morning person.'

The thought crossed your mind only to be quickly interrupted by the sound of loud knocking on your front door.

You hastily patted your face dry and rushed to the door to see your long-time friend, Mateo standing there, looking more guilty than a murderer in Church.

"Don't be mad-" he started before you cut him off with a whiny retort.

"Noo Mateo don't do this to me pleasee." You begged, trying to avoid the inevitable B.S you knew was gonna come out of Mateo's mouth.

"I'm sorry Y/N, but Diego got hammered last night and he's really sick this morning, I even went over to check, just to make sure he wasn't lying and the poor kid is throwing up chunks. There's no way he can work, can you pleaaase work a double, por favorrr."

You sighed, knowing that you were definitely going to cover for him, but you were absolutely going to complain to yourself about it all morning.

"I am NOT a morning person, Mateo...but fine. I will come in, give me an hour and I'll be there and before you ask, sí, you do owe me, as well as Diego."

"Wait what, I'm just the messeng-" Mateo blurted before being interrupted with a playful "Adíos" and the door being shut in his face.

While getting ready to start your work day hours earlier than usual you cursed everything under the sun.

Curse your anxiety for making it so you would work at the same bar for 6 years, too afraid of new settings and people to ever try and get another job.

Curse Deigo for not knowing his drinking limits, forcing you to come in early instead of following your usual morning routine that you clung to so tightly.

Curse your need for control over your life, making you feel so overwhelmed and anxious when simple things like covering for a coworker occurs unexpectantly.

Curse life for being so difficult all the time.

Curse death too because if you were immortal you wouldn't have to worry about any of this at all.

You chuckled at your mini rant in your head before heading off to work at the bar that's been somewhat of a second home to you.

When you arrived at the bar, you took your usual position behind the counter, setting up your work area with clean glasses and making sure your kegs were ready. Your boss, Maria, placed a hand on your shoulder making you jump.

"Hola Y/N! Sorry to call you in like this, I know you already were gonna work the night shift but idiot one, Mateo, spent the after hours taking shots with idiot two, Diego, knowing he's a lightweight so, here we are, your lunch is on me today okay?" She gave you a reassuring smile before zipping away to take care of her duties.

You caught Mateo cleaning a table across the room and you shot him the coldest dirty look you could muster. No wonder he looked so nervous this morning, he was the main culprit. Mateo mouthed a pitiful "Sorry...love you!" while making a heart shape with his hands before running away out of your view into a backroom.

You sighed, and decided that you were going to try and make today a good day. At least at work you can escape your head. No room to overthink when you have to think about orders and drink making and cleaning tables.

Looking at a wall clock that read 11:34am, you decided to get lost in your work.

To your appreciation, the earlier work day went by fast. You saw the usual customers with their usual tales and problems and met a few newcomers who were just happy to see the bottom of a glass.

Checking the time again, it read 1:39am.

'Last call is at 2am, if I go fast I can be outta here by 3am.' You thought to yourself while drying some shot glasses.

Most of your coworkers bid you goodnight a while ago, they were lucky enough to only have one shift. You were left with Gabriella, a nice girl with good street smarts, and Maria, your ever so loving boss.

Gabriella bumped her hip into yours with a tired but happy smile on her face. She was always a bit of a space invader but she also was the first person to check in on you most times as well as defending you from customers who got a bit belligerent after too many drinks. So, you didn't mind her touchiness.

"Hanging in there Y/N? We're almost done! I'm ready for a nice hot bath tonight." she said while she picked up a few glasses, helping you get them clean.

"I'm definitely tired. When I see Mateo and Diego again they're never gonna hear the end of it....like...ever. I will haunt them in the afterlife, just watch Gabi, just watch."

Gabriella laughed before greeting Maria who then came behind the counter and got very close to you and Gabriella.

"Alright ladies, mira mira, table 7a.-"

You glanced up at the table that sat in the back corner of the bar, there sat a hooded figure, so tall they looked like they would tower over you even while sitting. You couldn't make out much of the figures face, except for a nose and mouth that definitely belongs to a wolf.

You were a little unsettled by them, afterall, if they wanted a late night drink, shouldn't they have approached the bar? Why sit in the dark, and why not speak to the bartender..? Are they looking for trouble?

Your thoughts were interrupted with the rest of Maria's sentence.

"He called me over, said he wants a Black Russian, I've got to count the drawers for the night so you two handle that..and be extra kind to him..seems like he's in a bad mood..."

Maria looks up at you both with a hint of concern in her eyes.

"If he causes trouble..call the coppers first...then me..kay'?"

Both you and Gabriella were a bit taken aback by Maria's request.

'Did he really give her that bad of a vibe?' you thought before returning your glance to the hooded figure. He now was looking up, and straight at all three of you. He had piercing red eyes that seemed illuminated no matter the lighting. You could swear you saw a small sinister grin on his face as he stared intently. You suddenly felt so uneasy, and unsafe. Your heart quickened its pace so you forced yourself to look away. Maria had apparently already left and you turned your head to see Gabriella caught in the same petrified state you were in.

"Gabi-" you started only to be cut off by her somewhat shaky voice. She snapped her head to look you in the eyes.

"Y/N, I'll wash the dishes, wipe the tables, sweep the floors and even prepare the kegs for tomorrow. But I'm not serving him."

"Gabi, you don't have to do all tha-"

Gabriella took another glance at the hooded figure and whatever she saw made her have visible goosebumps.

"I'll start now." She chirped quickly before dashing into the backroom.

You looked back at table 7a, and now there was no mistaking it. He was smiling. A bit wider than he was before as well. He found something funny, and for some reason, that gave you the same goosebumps Gabriella had.

You didn't want to trigger an anxiety attack, which were at times unfortunately frequent for you, so you figured you would just make his drink, the quicker you can get this stranger out of here, the better.

His drink...

.......

His drink....

'What the hell did he order again???'

You cursed yourself for forgetting what Maria said he wanted. You cursed this strangers intense gaze for erasing all of the thoughts from your head. Maria kept her office locked while counting money, and there was no way Gabriella remembered since she never had the intention of serving him anyway.

You were gonna have to ask him.

'Shit.'

You grabbed your little notebook and pen from behind the counter before hesitantly making your way to table 7a.

You tried to keep your eyes down at the floor but you did glance up while making your way over and confirmed your suspicion that this wolf was staring you down all the way to his table. It left this ball of uneasiness in the pit of your stomach. You took a big but quiet breath in as you approached his table.

"Hola señor, I'll be serving you tonight, could you please remind me what your order was again?" You prayed your unease didn't show in your tone as you put on your best customer serving voice.

The wolf said nothing for a few seconds, staring at you with a smile that maybe would seem friendly on anyone else but him. Those seconds felt like an eternity as you took the time to see his face up close. His fur was white, with a dark mask like pattering over his eyes leading all the way down his snout. Despite the ghastly hood that might have suggested otherwise, his fur looked soft. You admittedly thought about what it would feel like to touch it. You concluded that on closer inspection, he was a bit handsome.

"A Black Russian." His voice interrupted your shameless thoughts. His voice was deep, smooth and cold and had the inflection like he thought something was just a bit comical.

"Of course, coming right up." You quickly spun yourself around and sped walked away back to the safety of the counter.

In practically no time, the Black Russian was made. This time while walking back to the table you made sure to keep your eyes down. You wondered when the last time someone even ordered a Black Russian was.

When you reached his table, you desperately didn't want to meet his eyes again, they made you feel like you were frozen in place, staring hopelessly at something that looked like it kinda wanted to eat you. So instead you focused your sight on your hand placing the drink on the table, trying again to hide your uneasiness.

All the while, Death, unbeknownst to you, was having a bit of a fun time watching you. The way you had tapped your pen nervously on your notepad, the way you bounced from one foot to the other, biting your lower lip and desperately trying to avoid eye contact. And he especially took notice of the way your tail twitched now and again. He knew he made you unbelievably unnerved and you wanted nothing more than to escape the situation. And yet there you were, taking his order with the shakiest smile ever. You could've cowardly escaped to the backroom like your friend but you didn't. You endured his unsettling gaze and he admittedly loved every moment of it.

"Will that be all..it's the last call so.." Your voice finally gave in and you couldn't hide your uncomfortability towards the end of your sentence.

He decided he was having more fun than he planned to, and he wasn't finished torturing you yet. He licked his lips, and you took a shameful amount of interest in the size of his teeth and the way his tongue rolled over them.

"Actually, I meant to order a White Russian. Would you mind.." He looked up at you, giving a smirk that didn't hide his devious amusement.

It took you a second to find your train of thought.

"Right, a White Russian..so cream then, I'll be right back." you chirped before retreating once again to your counter.

While fetching the cream needed for his drink, Maria finally left the safety of the office, she had her coat on, so you guessed she was ready to leave. She glanced over to the wolf, before turning her gaze back onto you.

"Any trouble out of that one?"

Truthfully, despite feeling as though you wanted to run for the hills during your entire interaction with him, and having a hunch that you will never forget those daggers he has for eyes. He wasn't actually guilty of anything other than looking like serial killer. You couldn't truthfully claim he did anything worth being labeled trouble.

"No, he um, just wanted a White Russian instead." you stated while motioning with the small pitcher of cream in your hand. Maria breathed a sigh of relief.

"That's good, well Gabi seemed a little sick when I saw her last in the back so I sent her home, she didn't get to wipe the tables so that and locking up are your final tasks for the night. It's raining pretty hard so try and find a spare umbrella in the back. Night Y/N." Maria then made her way out of the back exit. Leaving you and the wolf in the bar alone.

. . .

Oh right, his White Russian.

You spun around to see him tapping his claw on the table. Guess you took too long, he no longer seemed as amused.

You zipped to his table, while simultaneously trying not to spill any cream. When you approached him he immediately startled you with his voice.

"Any longer and the ice would've melted..and I thought rabbits were meant to be fast." He gave a deep half chuckle.

You were almost offended at his comment, there wasn't a need for stereotypes, after all you could say a lot about him being a big scary wolf. Suddenly, you had newly sprung courage bubble up in you. You poured the cream carefully and decided to speak up.

"If you had ordered the right drink the first go around you wouldn't have to wait Señor Lobo. We all can't be perfect."

As soon as the words left your mouth, you desperately wanted to swallow them back up. Hesitantly, you peeked up at the wolf. For a second you thought you might've saw a surprised expression on his face before quickly being replaced by one of devious amusement once again. He gave a deep hearty laugh before downing his drink and licking his lips. You cursed yourself for focusing on his mouth so much.

He then abruptly stuck out his paw with a grin.

You hesitantly placed your hand in his and gave a small shake.

"Death." he spoke as he tilted his head slightly, not letting go of your hand.

"What? Wait like, that's your name or..are you wishing it on me?" You asked giving a fake chuckle, hoping that he wasn't actually wishing death on you.

"That's my name. And yours is?" He still held your hand, it was strangely cold for someone who was covered in so much fur.

"Y/N..Ramirez." You gave a small smile before gently trying to pull your hand back only for him to hold it tighter for a second longer before letting go.

You hadn't really thought too deeply into his name, you've met a lot of folks with all sorts of unique names, some they were given, others they came up with themselves. If anything, his name suited him well. You couldn't imagine if he had a name like..José or Luis.

"Well, Death..the bar is now closed and I've just got these tables to clean before locking up. It was..nice meeting you and I hope you come again." You gave him the same spiel you gave every new customer.

"Of course, enjoy the rest of your evening, Y/N," He said smoothly. You nodded and reached into your servers belt to fish out his receipt.

However, when you looked up to give it to him, he was gone, and on the table was a pile of gold coins that were worth more than what one lousy White Russian would cost.

You looked around in confusion as you didn't comprehend how he could've gotten past you without making a sound. Or how he could've left through the front doors without ringing the bells at the top. You shook your head as you realized how tired you were. You scooped up the coins and left them on Maria's desk for tomorrow, after that you wiped the tables down and let your mind wander as you locked all the doors and windows of the bar.

You initially thought that Death's encounter with you would leave you with nightmarish memories of his red eyes and chilling demeanor. Instead, however, you kept thinking about all the wrong things.

You thought about how you liked his fur, and how soft it looked.

You like his scent, it reminded you of how it smells right after it rains.

You liked the way he talked, deep, smooth, and confident.

You liked the way his tongue glossed over his large teeth..and the way your hand felt in his..

You forcefully ejected yourself from your embarrassing thoughts as you locked the front door and stepped into the hard rain.

'Right. Maria did say it was raining and I did not grab an umbrella. What a damn idiot am I.'

You sighed deeply, preparing yourself for the 15 minute soaking wet walk you were gonna have to take home. You only got a couple paces in the direction of your home before you stopped in your tracks.

'Ah, I was right. I didn't forget those eyes.'

You thought to yourself as you immediately recognized Death's illuminated red eyes in the shadow of a tree not too far from where you stood. Hesitantly, you called out to him.

"...Death?"

Instantly, he emerged from the shadows, chuckling to himself as he approached you.

"Bien, conejita, muy bien. You have good awareness."

For some reason, you made a mental note to remember his compliment to you.

"Were you out here waiting for me?" you asked as he finally got within a few feet of you. It was then you truly realized how big he was. You weren't as small as other rabbits in your family, in fact you kinda considered yourself tall for a rabbit and yet, your head only came up to his chest, forcing you to lift your head up to look at him.

"Sí, it's raining hard and you have no umbrella. So I'll be a gentleman and lend you this."

Suddenly the hard pellets of rain no longer battered down on you, you blinked and realized, Death no longer had on his poncho, instead, it was on you.

You felt your cheeks and ears burn red with embarrassment.

"Ah, gracías.." You focused your sight on the ground as you found it too hard to face him in that moment.

"No problem, though of course you can't keep it..we are strangers after all, sí?"

'Oh right. Well then he'll have to take it back...after I get home.....Oh.'

You then realized what he was implying. He was gonna walk you home, you felt your cheeks and ears burn even hotter, and for a second you wanted to feel the rain on your face to cool you down.

"Right, well just this way then.." you trailed off as you began picking your pace back up in the correct direction.

While you focused your gaze on the ground out of shyness, Death focused his gaze on you.

He admittedly wasn't entirely sure why he was out here, walking some bunny to her home in the rain. He only meant to stop in for a quick drink after a long day. He mentally flipped through reasons that led him to be here, chauffeuring a little rabbit home.

He found you interesting, he liked the effect he had on you, specifically.

He had a strong effect on practically everyone. The running, screaming, pleading, fighting back kind of effect.

But on you, there was a push and pull. He noticed the way you couldn't be still under his gaze, how when given the chance you practically scattered to the comfort of the counter away from his table...but he also noticed the way you had unconsciously grazed your thumb over his paw when you shook hands... and the way your breath hitched when he leaned in too close. He chalked up his interest to wanting answers for this strange behavior and figured a quick chat on the way to your home would be all he needed to satisfy his curiosity.

....Plus, he enjoyed the way you had to keep pulling up his poncho because it was much too big for you. He couldn't help but chuckle at the sight.

"It's just past this uphill, not too far." You interrupted his thoughts. Your voice shaky, but this time not from uneasiness, instead, you found yourself very, very cold. Despite his poncho covering most of your body, it wasn't thick enough to not be eventually soaked in the relentless rain.

The shivering as well as the now slippery uphill walk slowed your pace greatly. Death, who was already making an effort to not speed past you with his naturally longer strides now had to come almost to a complete stop. He watched you helplessly attempt to conquer a small hill.

He didn't want to spend this much time on this little side quest of his. Shaking his head, he decided there was no other option.

He swiftly got close behind you and scooped you up bridal style into his arms. You screamed out in surprise as you found yourself suddenly looking up at Death, and the cloudy night sky, with rain more gently now, hitting your face. Death looked annoyed as he moved his mouth dangerously close to your ear.

"Hush now, conejita, you're starting to become more of a burden than you're worth." he whispered in your ear.

Offended, you scowled and looked away from him.

'It wasn't like I asked you to walk me home.' You thought to yourself as you begrudgingly let Death carry you in his arms, wishing you were home already in your warm bed.

Death looked down at you, seeing your hurt expression made him upset. He truthfully didn't mean to come across as rude as he did. The whole reason he's even here right now was to talk to you. Strangely for him, he regretted his comment and tried to change the subject.

"How long have you worked at the bar?" He asked plainly.

"Six and a half years, 17 days and 14 hours but hey who's counting." You grinned at your joke. You honestly did love working at the bar, despite all of the challenges it can present you.

Death nodded before carrying on.

"So then, you've seen many different kinds of people. What do you think of them?"

You gave your answer thought before speaking, humming while you did so.

"Ahh, most people are fun. They just want to let loose and chat everyone's head off. That, or they are looking for some comfort in drinking. Either way, I've had no real problems with most of the customers. I just do my best to give them what they need."

The rain has now come to a light sprinkle, the cold air pushed against you, making you want to retreat into the fur of this large wolf, but you refrained, not wanting to cross a line.

Death hummed in response and then there was a silence. You closed your eyes and focused on the crunch of the leaves under Death's feet as he carried you to home.

You could faintly hear his breathing, calm and steady despite just overcoming the uphill in the rain. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest combined with the sway of the walk was just the break you needed after such a long day.

Death's voice broke the silence.

"And what do you make of me."

Although it was a question, Death said it like he it was more of a thought to himself, as if he already knew the answer and was just thinking out loud.

You took even longer to answer this time.

"I think you must have it hard, with your appearance being so...unnerving. But you're a good guy I think. Plus, when you get a good look, you look kinda handsome. So cheer up, and don't be so down, you don't have to be the big bad wolf, you can be whatever you want."

You decided to answer honestly as you saw your cottage not too far away. And it's not like you'll ever see this guy again, so who cares if you say something just a bit embarrassing.

Suddenly, Death placed you gently onto your feet and removed his poncho from you.

You turned to look at him, hoping your honesty didn't tick him off. Death stared off at something else. This time he was the one avoiding eye contact.

"You're home, rabbit." He said as he put his poncho back on himself, seemingly unbothered by how cold and wet it was.

You turned to see your cottage just a few paces ahead of you.

"Ah thank you, be safe on your travels."

He paused, still glaring into the void.

"You too conejita, I don't want to see you too soon."

Before you could ask him what that last part meant, you blinked and he vanished. And somehow, with his departure, the air felt warmer.

That night, after a much needed shower and dinner, you laid in your bed with your head full of nothing but the wolf from the bar.

You wished on every star you could see from your window that he wasn't just a passersby.

That you might get to see Death again.

You drifted off to sleep, with dreams of Death filling your head.

.....

Not far from your home, Death sat against a tree. Your words replaying in his mind. He ruffled the fur on the top of his head with a heavy sigh.

He knew he couldn't leave you alone after that.

End of chapter one.

#puss in boots #death x reader #death puss in boots #pib death #puss in boots the last wish #lobo x reader #puss in boots death x reader #puss in boots the wolf #wolf x reader

[fandangotales]

Sticky situation

Childe x Osial

NSFW CONTENT MINORS DNI

TW: Dubious consent, use of aphrodisiacs, bondage, monster fucking, crying, sub Childe… please let me know if I missed anything! <3

Dedicated to a very special someone who “loves tentacle hentai” <3

“If you want to drown together with the people of Liyue, you’re free to stay and enjoy the show!” Childe said, smirking at the alarmed expression on the traveler’s face.

The golden house had tremored from the sheer power emitting from the numerous sigils encircling his body. After that, he was supposed to make his getaway in pursuit of the geo archon, who would surely reveal himself in response to the awakening of Osial, right?

…

It was dark; so dark that seeing even a few inches in front of him was nearly impossible. The harbinger had no idea where he was, and how he ended up there. He decided to feel around with his hands in order to get some sense of location.

The ground beneath him was cool rock, with small patches of what felt like springy moss. A heavy dampness hung in the air, already beginning to wet Childe’s clothes.

He took a moment to calm himself, breathing in and out. The place reeked of salt water. The same scent that would always waft into Liyue harbor from the Sea of Clouds.

He let out a huff in disbelief. If he was in the golden house, how on Teyvat did he end up in some kind of sea cave?

Something suddenly fell onto his head from above. He reached up and ran his fingers across the expanse of ginger locks. It was cold, with a kind of slimy texture.

“What the…” he muttered to himself, spreading his fingers in front of his face, watching the slime slowly separate.

He was brought out of his thoughts, as the temperature abruptly lowered. More of the substance dropped around him, as he scrambled to his feet. Childe felt his balance wavering, as the floor became more and more filled with slime. Soon enough, the cool liquid reached his knees. He didn’t know if his feet were still on the ground.

“Harbinger.” The word resounded throughout the cave, as Childe whipped his head around, searching for the source. The voice was ancient, and seemed neither feminine or masculine.

“Who are you, and why am I here?” He questioned, trying his best to maintain a confident front. Even though he was in a very, very bad position, he could probably talk his way out of it.

The voice made a strange sound, that reminded him of a rough laugh.

“Do you not recall summoning me, Harbinger?” It inquired, sounding mildly amused. “Do you not remember the offering necessary for summoning a god?”

Childe tensed up, as the voice’s origin became crystal clear. And an offering? He never heard anything about that.

“Offering…” He trailed off, half talking to himself.

The slime around him slowly shifted into what looked like a serpent head. It emitted a faint hue of aqua, and dimly illuminated the cave.

“Indeed.” It stated, continuing to gather up the other liquid in the room. “And it appears to be that you had not prepared one.”

He felt sweat bead across his forehead, as the overbearing aura of the god increased tenfold. It was not pleased. He attempted to materialize his bow, only for his awaiting hands to remain empty.

The rough chuckle returned once more.

“Silly Harbinger.” It mocked, as multiple heads appeared, each suspending his bow, vision, and delusion before him. “One supposes you will have to do.”

“What… do you mean.” He slowly asked, his expression contorting into something desperate, as his eyes flicked around the area in search of an escape.

His question remained unanswered, as the substance on the cave floor began to stir. Multiple stands of slime emerged from the enlarged pool in front of him, and began making their way towards him.

“Hey-“ be began, one last attempt at reasoning with the being. He was cut off by one of the limbs thrusting itself into his open mouth. His eyes flared open, as he struggled claw get the appendage away from his face.

“Don’t worry little one, I’ll make sure you enjoy this too.” The main head reassured him, as the tentacle pulsed in his mouth.

A thick fluid continuously flowed out of it, sliding down his throat, prompting the ginger to choke on the sheer amount of substance entering his mouth. He was getting dizzy from the lack of oxygen, and the constant flow of liquid. His eyes rolled back, and just as Childe was about to pass out, the girthy strand was pulled from his mouth.

“Hah…” he panted, attempting to catch his breath. He was just about to glare at the creature, before he began to feel incredibly warm, and out of breath despite breathing clearly.

“What… ha… did you do… to me…?” He slurred, as he collapsed onto the awaiting mass of slime. Instead of answering him, it instead gently wrapped multiple strands around his limbs, and proceeded to suspend his limp body in the air. When it deemed he was effectively restrained, other tentacles went for his clothes, steadily removing them from him.

As the cool flesh of ancient god gripped onto his arms and thighs, he barely held in a sigh of relief. Whatever it forced into him made him feel extremely hot, and rendered him immobile. It was difficult to even keep his eyes open.

He had almost succumbed to sleep, before the same cool tentacle slithered from the apex of his thigh, to the rim of his hole.

“Ah-” he sharply inhaled, feeling a sense of pleasure from the soft limb pressed onto his entrance. Other tentecles wrapped further around him, slowly squeezing him repeatedly and deliberately making their way to his sensitive areas.

Childe couldn’t help but let out another noise as the tips of multiple tendrils latched onto his nipples, and began to imitate a sucking motion. His thoughts began to grow hazy, as all he could focus on was constant assault on his chest. Childe knew he shouldn’t be getting off to something like this, but the manner in which he was restrained meant that he was entirely at the mercy of the god. The thought of that sent a jolt of pleasure straight down to his cock.

For some reason, the appendages on his upper half retracted themselves back into the main form, leaving him with no stimulation. He let out a whimper, trying to angle himself back towards the limbs, although the tight hold around his body completely prevented him from moving.

“P-please-“ he gasped, still trying to move, only growing more desperate as time went by.

“I-I need it-” he begged, as the lack of stimulation became excruciating.

The head seemed to tilt its head in consideration, before a large limb materialized directly below his body. He didn’t even notice it, still occupied with pleading for its touch.

“Plea-“ he was cut off as the appendage harshly thrust into his hole, and his words ended in loud moan. Childe’s eyes rolled back, as he struggled to get used to the sheer girth inside of him. The stretch was almost unbearable, and the cold temperature only added to the shock.

After what felt like a century, it slowly began to move his body up and down on the limb, using him as if he was a mere toy. He let out a needy moan at the feeling of the tentacle inside of him, still wanting more. Childe’s back arched involuntarily when it suddenly went deeper, the bulbous end pressing flush with his prostate. He came with a shattering cry, entirely limp as he was continuously pistoled up and down onto the tentacle.

His eyelids fluttered, as the constant movement within him shifted from pleasurable to slightly painful. He let out a groan, but before he could close it, the apendage from earlier reentered his mouth, fucking itself down his throat. The tentacle inside of him picked up speed, assaulting his hole at a brutal pace.

Tears from the overstimulation pooled on his ginger lashes, as his body was mercilessly used. The only sounds he could let out were muffled moans, which only seemed to encourage the sticky limb moving in and out of his throat. His chest was heaving, as he was struggling to intake enough air to remain conscious.

Childe could tell that it was close, as the tentacle pulsed against the bundle of nerves deep inside him. He choked on a sob as it’s speed increased once more, this time chasing it’s release. The edges of his vision began to spot out, as the appendages roughly pulled him down to the base of the tentacle.

“MMPh-” he moaned around the limb in his mouth. Childe almost passed out, but the ice cold temperature of the liquid now pumping down his throat and into his hole snapped his eyes open, as his body was wracked with shivers. He was freezing, and the sheer amount of the thick fluid, now running down his thighs, was not helping his situation.

He looked entirely pathetic, the tears streaming down his face falling upon the large appendage forcing his mouth open. His thighs trembled despite the tight hold on them, unused to the feeling of being filled to the brim. The slick substance had over flowed from inside him, leaving the now unmoving tentacle and something that felt like multiple soft balls left deep inside. It was made glaringly apparent by a distinct bulge protruding from his stomach.

Childe’s body shuddered one final time before his vision went entirely black.

An unknown length of time later…

“Lord Harbinger?” Signora mocked, standing over the 11th’s unconscious form. His skin was covered with angry red marks, around his arms and legs. The sheer amount of thick slime lethargically flowing out of his hole didn’t make it hard to guess what happened. Not to mention the fucked out look on his face, and a large puddle of his own fluid.

His body had been placed in the ground haphazardly, as he was not laying in a normal position. Certainly not one that would be deemed appropriate. Signora rolled her eyes, mentally noting to bring this up the next time she meets with the Tsaritsa.

“Childe…” she half sang, in an attempt to wake him up. There was no response. Sighing, she poked his cheek with the tip of her heel. There was no response for a few seconds, and it lead to dead silence.

“Haaa…” he breathed, still out of it. “P-please~”

Signora laughed in disbelief.

She’d let the recruits deal with this.

#genshin impact #genshin nsft #sub genshin #sub childe #sub tartaglia #childe #genshin tartagalia #genshin osial

[skzoologist]

Hii!! I saw that you are open to supernatural AUs so... Can I ask for one where Stray Kids summon a demon that happens to be Bae? 😈😊 (I want happy vibes pleaseee)

word count: ~2k

warnings: few drops of blood

genre: demon AU, fluff?

a/n: I hate you. I told you in our chat already several times, but I hate you so much. You KNOW how much I love supernatural AUs, especially demon ones. And you dare give me this idea, that is now living rent free in my head, growing itself out into a whole ass series. I will be demanding compensation later. Maybe some Chan pics or smt, I haven't decided yet. I need to bash my head into the wall first a few times.

Please let me know if I left a warning or anything out, I will add it in! Reblogs, likes and feedback are greatly appreciated!

!I don't condone anyone stealing my work and posting it anywhere without my permission, or feeding it to AI!

!This is just fiction, my interpretation of Stray Kids. By no means is this how they are and how they behave in real life!

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹‧˚₊꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒷꒦︶︶︶︶︶꒦꒷‧₊˚⊹

“Are we really sure this is a good idea?”

Hyunjin’s question never got answered, the air between the 8 teenage boys unusually silent and strained. It only caused him to grow even more nervous, his fingers occasionally twitching without his own command, urging him to just tuck his hands into his pockets.

Everyone knew that it wasn’t a good idea. Not the little group they gathered up in, not the dark room lit up with various candles, all placed in a certain pattern scattered throughout the whole space. And the charcoal drawing they circled around certainly wasn’t the best thing they had ever done in their whole life, not at all.

But what they were about to do was something even stupider.

Jeongin took out a little knife he’d kept safely tucked away in his flannel’s pocket, revealing the hidden blade with the single press of a button. His eyes swept over everyone else’s, worried glances greeting him back. The maknae could only gulp, yet his slightly shaking hands extended over the circle, blade cutting into supple flesh.

Drip, drop.

The vermillion liquid slowly landed and formed a small pool in the middle of the drawing, where the most intricate symbols laid, everyone sitting around it with bated breaths. It felt as if they were about to make either the best, or the most horrible decision of their lives, and they couldn’t have wished for it to be over any faster. It laid heavy on their shoulders, their chests, as soon as they got their hands on that wine red, leather bound book that started it all. It was as if that thing was calling them, whispering into their ears, something they couldn’t resist even for a moment. 

It would have felt wrong to do so.

So now, here they were, performing the ritual that was carefully written down in those aged, yellow pages, their content beautifully explained in great detail. Even them, who had no idea about the occult, could easily perform it; the hardest thing to do was to draw the lines good enough and have enough bravery to cut into their flesh.

And yet… nothing seemed to be happening.

No magical lights appeared from the summoning circle, no portal opened from the blood, nothing. Not even a little puff of smoke.

“Well… we tried.” - it was Chan, breaking everyone out of their stupor. “Yea, let’s just go. Don’t look so heartbroken Lixie, we can maybe try again later?” - Changbin said, slinging an arm over the mentioned male’s shoulder. “Exactly, so let’s just go down. I never liked this room, whenever I passed by it, it gave me the chills. C’mon Jisungie, stop moping around.” - Hyunjin said, a sweat rolling down the side of his forehead. “No need. Just look.” - Minho’s voice caught everyone’s attention, his arms ushering the two youngest behind his protective form.

The boy was right, the room now glowed in a sinister red light, something captivating, yet frightening. A rift that tore through time and space started opening up in the middle of the summoning circle, the blood fallen there now moving on its own, pawing the path for the portal in an intricate pattern. Dark smoke escaped that rift, coating the room with its chilly self. If only that was the single thing that crossed over to their world, then the boys could have heaved a sigh of relief. But no, they were forced to watch as a void-dipped, clawed hand gripped at their floor boards, pale skin following it soon after.

In front of the boys stood an imposing creature, one with ashen skin that was dipped into tar, head crowned with pairs of majestic horns, back adorned with a pair of skin-woven wings and a slender tail. His eyes were like molten gold, the colours and patterns perpetually swirling in there, dragging anyone into their depths, were they brave enough to look.

Those same eyes slightly widened, stuck on two members of this little friend group, their presence catching the demon completely off-guard. He wanted to ask what this was all about, especially when he saw that same recognition flash across their eyes, but he wasn’t a fool. There must have been a reason for why they hid amongst these humans, something he didn’t want to ruin even without knowing.

So, the demon set his eyes on Chan, the one who bravely stood in front of anyone in a protective manner. The creature cocked his head to the side, his wings closed to seem less imposing as he was waiting for the other to speak. Nobody summoned a demon for no reason, after all.

“Why did we do this, again? Someone remind me please?” - Changbin’s voice was sharp, yet it had a slightly fearful edge to it. “I don’t fucking know, you idiots just bought this book and somehow we ended up here. With a fucking demon in our room, which is as tall as the room itself!” - Seungmin’s seethed, snapping at the other. “It wasn’t even me, why are you yelling at me then?! It was Minho and Jisung who found the book and brought it here, blame them!” “Oh so you’re pointing fingers now, huh?” - Minho joined in, a deep scowl etched onto his delicate features. “Uh, guys, maybe not now…” - but Jeongin’s pleas weren’t heard, not even after Hyunjin joined him in his efforts to diffuse the situation.

The demon watched it with amusement, a slight huff escaping his form as it reminded him of the past.

“Hey, you can grant one of our wishes, right? Any kind?” - Chan asked, causing the demon’s eyes to fall onto his tiny form that was squished between Jisung and Felix carefully.

His only reply was a silent nod.

“I want these 7 boys to never be harmed, to always be healthy and protected.”

That reply was not what the two boys beside him expected, staring at him with wide eyes and arguing how he should have wished for something better, for himself. The demon just observed it, how everyone argued in the room for different reasons, his eyes lingering on the two liars.

“I cannot grant you what you already have.”

Chan only sputtered at that, unable to believe what he had just heard. The two next to him reacted similarly, a few from behind them joining in, their argument slowly dying down. Everyone just stared up at the hellish entity, watching his eyes shift around, his head slightly dipping down when he closed his eyes for a few seconds, deep in thought. The hair-woven waterfall behind him gently moved, just like the chains and other ornaments that decorated his horns and sharp ears.

Those molten orbs were visible again, hiding behind long lashes, yet no more sound exited the demon’s lips.

“What do you mean? I already have it? We’ve never done anything like this, that’s impossible! Explain yourself!” - Chan raised his voice, clearly getting worked up. “Don’t worry, Channie hyung, he’s only speaking the truth. Other demons would take this chance and take your soul in exchange for nothing.” - it was Felix who spoke up this time, his warm hand lingering on his hyung’s shoulder, before he stepped towards the demon. “Yea, you can really trust him. He’s the softest demon I’ve ever known, and I know San.” - Jisung followed the younger aussie, a lopsided smile dancing on his lips.

Everyone watched on, confused, questions upon questions flying through their heads. The strong feeling sat out onto their faces, some closing their mouths several times, yet no sound left any of them. The two who were now standing next to the demon looked guilty, rightfully so.

Because now Felix was sporting angel wings, while Jisung had bat wings and a tail protruding from his back.

“Someone tell me they’re seeing the same thing, otherwise I’ll assume I somehow overdosed myself on drugs.” “Innie, you didn’t take any.” “That was the problem then.”

The boys laughed at that, the awkward tension now broken thankfully. It gave a chance for the two who hid their true entity to gather themselves, to take a deep breath and just slowly let it out.

“We’re so sorry for hiding this before you guys, but it doesn’t change who we are as a person, really. We’re still the sa–” “Lix, Lixie, it’s okay, don’t start crying. Sure, it’s a surprise, a big one, but we’re not mad. No, Sungie, you calm down too. Just. We need a minute to process, ye?” - Chan interrupted, a heavy sigh leaving his chest as he pinched the bridge of his nose, trying to make sense of everything.

“So… you guys like, know each other?” “Minho!” “What? I’m sure you wanna know too!”

Laughter interrupted the bickering couple, Chan and Minho stopping to look at the still giggling Felix and Jisung.

“Yea, we kinda have a history, the three of us. In short, me and Bae are like brothers, and I mean our new demon buddy here. The two of us are like two peas in a pod, inseparable. Lixie here somehow didn’t hate our guts, even though our races completely hate each other, and we all kept sneaking out to hang out. That’s the gist of it, and now here we are!” “While Jisungie left out a lot, and I mean a LOT, that’s the basics, yea. But we’ll fill you guys in later, first let’s finish forming this pact, before the portal closes and Bae’ll be banished back into Hell for a good while.” “Okay, but how? He already denied one wish.” - Chan argued back, the others nodding along. “Hmm, don’t worry about that. I think he already knows what he wants.” - Jisung replied, his eyes hiding a knowing glint inside.

Indeed, the young demon was correct. Ever since he’d been summoned, Bae knew what he'd wanted and from who. It was obvious it wouldn’t be the one whose blood was used for the creation of the portal, everyone too overprotective for that to happen. And the others either didn’t have something to wish for that they didn’t already have, or Bae simply didn’t want to grant it -he was a picky demon after all-.

But there was one wish that tickled his fantasy, one that drew him closer.

“I can grant what your heart desires, in exchange for your soul. What do you say, Hwang Hyunjin?”

The boy was frozen in place, his dark eyes locked onto golden ones. His lungs stuttered, nearly failing to work and take in that vital air, and yet… 

He wasn’t truly afraid. 

This gigantic, dangerously captivating creature didn’t terrify him. No, he was excited, his heart was beating hard and fast as if to say that yes, this was finally happening, he’d waited for this for so long. He didn’t know what he’d been waiting for truly, but this whole thing just felt…right. As if a missing puzzle piece was found, ready to be placed in its place and complete a bigger picture.

A little smile drew itself on the demon’s lips, something that caught everyone’s attention as it wasn’t sinister, no, quite the opposite.

“Then the pact is sealed.”

All Hyunjin felt was a slight pain on his cheek, then dark smoke covered up his vision, the demon’s form lost inside. Nothing could be really heard, besides the hushed whispers of the members and his own rushing blood, his heart beating loudly in its cage. Something that only strengthened when the smoke finally cleared, his eyes widening at the sight.

A tall human stood in front of him, pale, delicate skin framed by dark hair. His eyes weren’t molten gold anymore, no, they mirrored his own, dark pools like the inky sky. It took him a second to blink, the sight strangely carved into his mind.

He had to sketch it down later.

Bae lightly smiled at Hyunjin with those barely red-tinted lips, turning around and opening his arms. It didn’t take longer than a second for him to be tackled by Felix and Jisung, the two clinging onto him as if their lives depended on it. So much so, that the little devil hopped onto his back, while Felix was in his arms, carried away as if this was the newly met devil’s daily life.

The others could only blink at that, too confused to really do anything.

What a weird, twisted situation they had gotten themselves into.

#the angel Felix and demon Jisung headrot is strong #back from when i first listened to Social Path #also i am never beating those 'you fkin love Hyune you idiot' allegations after this one #but also it is 2 am here and i am on my last leg over here #i am allowed to act a little insane now #stray kids #skz #stray kids oc #skz oc #stray kids 9th member #skz 9th member #glacial prince #bang chan #lee know #lee minho #seo changbin #hwang hyunjin #han jisung #lee felix #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #stray kids fanfiction #skz fanfiction #stray kids fanfic #skz fanfic #my beloveds #request #angel felix #demon jisung #demon glacial prince

[2af-afterdark]

So, I wasn't sure how to write this in a coherent way. I'm not sure if I even am now, but I need to try (if only to vent). I’m just a person with feelings and an opinion and this is just for me to get this out there and out of my head.

I hate Solomon's Seals. I hate the idea of them. I hate them being paid content. I hate that they represent shady business practices and exploitation of fanbases. I hate it.

Before I explain, I am not faulting PB for trying to make a profit. Companies need to make money to stay in business and PB is a company. What I care about is the practices the company uses to try and make money. I care about how a company treats its players, both whales and f2p.

I am, by my own admission, a whale (maybe closer to a dolphin? Idk where we draw the line). I picked up the habit in my Eldarya days when I started throwing $10 at the game every few months. It was how I splurged on myself back when I was a broke college student. Before that though, I was a f2p player in everything I did. Even now, there are games where I am strictly f2p. So, please understand that I am seeing two sides to the issue as I write up this rant…

Solomon's Seal are exploitative and I hate them.

Paid currency, in general, is exploitative. Games can have paid content. That isn't what bothers me. Cosmetic changes being paid currency? Sure thing. Special stickers or emotes? Sounds fine by me. Making the gacha,, the entire backbone of the gacha game, paid player exclusive? That I have an issue with.

What bothers me is that WHB has introduced three different summoning items. Greater keys (GK), lesser keys (LK), and Solomon's Seals (SS). GK and LK are used for the general pool, with LK being used to narrow down summons to A+ rank or higher summons. Minhyeok's banner used GK, which was an interesting choice. They are easier to get by far. An actually alright move from PB, making it manageable to summon his unit (unit? card? what are we calling these guys even?) for all players.

However… then we saw the new banner and that it required SS. We were not told what SS were or how to possibly earn them. We found out after the update that SS are a paid currency. Specifically, they are a paid currency to draw on event banners for L-rank units. My heart sunk when I saw this. It sunk for a two main reasons:

It's unfair to the f2p player base, who doesn't even have a chance to earn a handful of SS for free to get even a few draws.

It makes me feel exploited as a whale when I see the prices on those SS.

My Eldarya days taught me something: whales motivate the company, for good and ill. Many companies want to try and get their whales to spend money on limited banners. If you played Obey Me (OM), you will recognize this as the reason Lucifer and Mammon always seemed to have the most limited cards. It was because they were the two most popular characters and the whales spent money on them. It was guaranteed that Solmare would keep making content for their cash cows. It's also why characters who ranked lower on that popularity poll started not getting as many cards.

(Side note: if you ever take these surveys and see the question "how much money do you spend on games a month", the company is explicitly assigning you a dollar amount to weigh your opinions)

Events (and their banners) are the lifeblood of gacha games. They make a ton of money during this time, so they tend to have a good deal of focus put on them. Personally, I prefer events to be more sparse so they are special and the team is not pulled between event stories, main story content, and the upkeep of the game.

OM had many shady practices as it went on. Constant events (often with only a day or two between the end of one and the start of another), being unable to complete an event reward sheet (3 pages) completely if you were f2p, Celestial Blessings (loot boxes within loot boxes), starting up Nightbringer (that's a whole other rant), not informing the fanbase for a year that OM would be all but discontinued, putting the announcement on a Reddit thread when it did finally come out so it had to be passed around via word of mouth rather than from Solmare itself, and more.

Solmare has always been an exploitative company and many of its choices are based in getting players to spend money as often as possible rather than ensure the actual game content is good (sorry, I am still traumatized by S4 and the year long wait). Many of their practices are based in fomo and gambling practice (reminder: gacha is gambling) meant to produce a Skinner effect and trick your brain to keep going, even against your own best interests.

You get an SSR guarantee when you draw because your brain sees the sparkling rainbows and thinks "I was so close to getting a UR! Maybe if I do one more pull". It prompts you to try again for that dopamine rush.

I bring up Solmare specifically to point out that, despite its shady practices, still didn’t have a paid exclusive currency. You could buy DP in that game, but DP was also able to be earned free. Same with DV. And the two currencies could be used to pull on any banner. Twst also allows you to use keys on any banner. Same with Nu:C and contracts. The Ikemen series too. One currency type for every banner, and that currency can be earned for free given enough time and effort. Honkai Star Rail and Genshin have two types of currency used on different banners, but both types can be earned completely free given enough time.

I personally think all currencies should be available to all players, paid and f2p, in some capacity. There should be a way to earn SS, even if only for a single ten draw. Doing anything less is unfair to the f2p player base and sends the message about caring about whales more. Games make their shit loads of money, even without having paid exclusive currency. 

I personally think they should use the more rare, already existing currency (LK) for L-rank banners. Every player can earn those and they can be bought in the shop for the paid players. F2p players have a chance to earn them for free and hoard them for the next banner drop, making them feel like they at least got a chance to pull rather than feeling left out.

HOWEVER, I am also going to acknowledge here the PB (unless they change their minds) has stated that the L-rank event units will be added to the general pool at the end of their two week banner run. Honestly? This is an amazing choice. It completely opens the potential to get the L-rank units up to the entire playerbase. The only drawback is that the rates to pull them will drop. This is the first time I’ve personally seen a game do this and I will not pretend it isn’t a very generous move. My issue isn’t with PB. It’s with the Seals as a concept.

As for why SS make me feel exploited as a paid player… it has to do with their cost. If you do the math, it costs about $500 to hit pity… Gacha have never been cheap (ask me how much I have spent in the past trying to get Kuya or Rei) but $500 is insane for a single pity… in which you can’t even choose what you get. Take into account that there are four items you potentially have to draw (the unit artifacts are necessary for the unholy board which is where extra stats and story are hidden) and that adds up very quickly. Now, you are likely to draw something before you hit pity, but that is not guaranteed and it certainly isn’t guaranteed you’ll get all four items. RNGesus is fickle, as many a veteran can attest. Seeing these prices puts a nasty taste in my mouth because it feels like going straight for the wallet. Remember, these are pixels. They cost time and effort to make and write for and the servers cost money to be maintained… but $500 for a single pity? That is a rather extreme cost for the unlucky.

Like I said, I don’t have an issue with PB needing to make money. We all do. They have employees to pay and servers to maintain. My issue is the way they do it. I find Solomon’s Seals to be gross. I find them to be a bad practice in their current state which is why I cannot, in good conscious, whale for this. How I spend my money encourages their practices. I do not support this one, so I will not put my money toward it.

Having said that, I openly acknowledge that PB is not defined by this one grievance. I like that they seem to be listening to the player base. They heard Solomon’s Tears were difficult to get and made it easier to obtain them. They are constantly trying to fix the game and stabilize the servers. They have given out a shit ton of keys and compensation for delays, maintenance, and more. I can find this one aspect egregious without bashing the entire company or their efforts >.> I can still enjoy the game and the characters. Critique is not criticism.

#what in hell is bad #bitch and rant

[im-a-marion3tt3]

Bad Ideas

Major TW for Sh and eds!!! This work contains detailed writing about them, you have been warned! I do not condone/support them in any way, however, writing about them is a way I cope with my own issues.

Phantom was young and naive. Being a new summon around those who had been there for years had him desperate to fit in with everyone around him; it was a need at this point. Unfortunately for him, he had befriended Dewdrop and Rain. They were both great on their own and even together, but as he grew to know them more and more, that's when the problems started. He picked up on the other's traits so easily. Rain always made his bed in the mornings so Phantom did too. Dew only showered in the evenings and braided his hair before sleeping so Phantom followed along, though his hair was definitely a struggle to braid. It started off as small things though, innocent things that could be considered good habits even. It wasn't until he walked in on the two of them in the bathroom that those 'innocent' traits he picked up on stopped being so innocent.

Dewdrop was sitting on the counter as Rain stood next to him, looking at himself in the mirror. A large cut on his ribs dripped blood, it spilling down his side. Hearing the door open got Dewdrop's attention though Rain seemed to be too far caught up in what he was doing. "At least shut the door if you're going to stare," he teased the younger ghoul before going back to the cut on Rain's side. He ran his fingers along it before gently pressing one in causing Rain to let out a shaky breath. "That's deeper than normal, Rainy, I'm impressed," he praised softly before taking the blade out of the other ghoul's hand.

Phantom had shut the door when he was told to but he looked both entranced and terrified at watching what played out between Dewdrop and Rain. It wasn't until he heard Dew talk to him that he snapped out of his trance. "Did you hear me?" Dew asked, tracing his fingertips over the blade. Phantom quickly shook his head, his eyes not being able to tear away from the blood dripping down Rain's side. "I asked if you wanted to see it up close," Dewdrop said with a chuckle. Phantom nodded at that and moved to stand closer to Dew who, once the younger ghoul was right next to him, gently touched Rain's side with his free hand and pulled the cut open. At the very back of the incision, you could see a bone. One of Rain's ribs.

It was beautiful to Phantom, in a grotesque and horrific way. He could seem to look away though, even as Dewdrop removed his hand and let the skin cover the wound. "Wanna try?" Dewdrop them asked, getting a fresh blade out of a case and offering it to the younger, a reassuring smile on his face. Hesitating, he carefully took it from Dew and stared at it. "Do your leg first. It'll heal quick and hurt less," Rain instructed him, it being the first time he had spoken since Phantom had seen him. At this point, he was getting a rag to start and clean himself up, though he was watching the smaller ghoul from the corner of his eyes, wanting to see what he did.

With shaky hands, Phantom rolled up his pant leg and slowly pressed the blade into his leg. Tears pooled in his eyes as he bit back a whimper. It hurt like a bitch but oddly, he felt good about it. He could hear Dew drop praise him though it didn't register as he moved to press the blade into his leg again, and again, and again. That was the first time Phantom had ever harmed himself. It was the first toxic behavior he had learned.

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

It was a little over two months before Phantom started to pick up on another trait, though this was one only done by Dewdrop. Phantom was always last to pick up his fork during meals, he had always made sure of that as he didn't want to be perceived as rude by the other ghouls. However, he noticed that Dewdrop had stopped even touching his fork at this point, so Phantom stopped too. It started out as him only skipping breakfast, being starving by lunch, but even then Dewdrop never even picked up a utensil. None of the other ghouls seemed to care or even notice for that matter. It confused Phantom.

What became even more confusing what the few times that he did see Dewdrop eat, he immediately went to the bathroom and wouldn't invite Rain or him to join. Dewdrop would stay in there for upwards of half an hour before coming out teary eyed but no blood to be seen or smelled.

What was Phantom only skipping lunch soon became him skipping lunch as well. Then he started skipping dinner or only eating certain things off the table. He couldn't help himself though, he wanted to be exactly like Dewdrop no matter how much it hurt him. After a while, he found himself enjoying the pain as well, and it wasn't just the self-harm anymore. He liked how his stomach ached from not eating and the way he got dizzy from standing up too quickly. It was addictive.

Phantom continued on like that, skipping meals and hurting himself. It wasn't until he was finally confronted by Mountain that he knew the name of what he was mimicking.

"Phantom, come here," the earth ghoul had ordered, which Phantom quickly listened to. He followed the much larger ghoul out to the greenhouse and sat down across from him once they were inside.

"Do you have a fucking clue what you are doing to yourself?" Mountain eventually questions, sounding disappointed. Phantom looked at him like a deer in headlights, clearly freaked out. It caused the other ghoul to sigh before grabbing the younger ghoul's wrist and rolling up his sleeve, revealing an array of scars and fresh cuts. "This. We all were okay with this. It's hard being your age, we get it. It's even harder when you have Dewdrop and Rain to look up to," Mountain said far kinder as he let go of Phantom, "but starving yourself? Do you even know what you're doing, Phantom?" The way Mountain asked this was nothing but caring, looking into the younger ghoul's eyes as if he were silently pleading with him.

Phantom just shrugged and rolled down his sleeve, looking flighty. He wished Dewdrop or Rain was here to stand up for him as Mountain, especially when angry, intimidated him. "Between meals, Dewdrop goes and throws up if he'd eaten basically anything. It's not healthy and it's not safe Phantom. You need to stop before you're too deep to quit." Except, Phantom was already that deep.

And that is when everything got worse. Phantom had left the greenhouse as soon as he was dismissed, making a beeline and looking it up once he was in the safety of his room. 'An eating disorder', that was what Mountain had called it. How it had been a mistake to look it up. At first, he had seen all the helplines and information but once he really started digging, that's when he saw all the horrific comments people made about anyone who was more than skin and bones. It was addictive, Phantom couldn't look away as he read more and more. It wasn't until he was called for dinner did he stop looking.

Phantom sat down next to Dewdrop and did take anything as the food was passed around, not even when the ghoul next to him took food. He sat there all of dinner, silently waiting for a chance to try out what he learned; and it finally came as Dewdrop ate no more than a handful of vegetables from Mountain's greenhouse and a small cut of meat. Leaning over, Phantom whispered into Dew's ear, cupping his hand around the other's ear, "Did you really want to eat all of that or are you just such a glutton that you simply have no control over yourself?"

Dewdrop stood up, and looked at him both hurt and bewildered before leaving the table without a word; everyone knew where he was going. From then on, the comments between the two only grew worse. Anytime they saw each other eating, they would mutter something about how they could basically see how much the other had just eaten and how it was really showing on their hips.

Their relationship only got worse though as they would practically cuddle each other as they shivered, regardless of the fact that it was at least 78 degrees Fahrenheit. They would trace each other's bones when visible and compliment each other on how well they were doing. Even Rain thought that this was more twisted than normal though he did nothing to interfere. The two ghouls never tried to force this on him either, knowing he wanted nothing to do with this.

Regardless of the way they hurt each other with words when it came to food and weight, the self-harm had never stopped being so horrifically gentle. Rain and Dewdrop still praised Phantom for cutting himself, especially when he tried new sensitive skin or when he started to cut through layers of fat.

Truly, Phantom had picked the worst role models.

-----End-----

Sorry if the ending seemed abrupt, I couldn't think of a better way to end it. Please let me know if I need to add more triggers as it is not my goal to upset anyone with this piece.

#ghost #phantom ghoul #the band ghost fanfic #tw ana shit #tw disordered eating #sh #self h@rm #tw sh #tw ed #ghost the band #ghost angst #ghost the band angst #phantom angst #dewdrop ghoul #rain ghoul

[cinnapuppymilk]

Rose Thorn in His Side

A/N: Hi!!! if you think you are seeing this post AGAIN, yes, yes you are! I had to switch accounts so I'm reposting this here and all following chapters will be posted to this account. I pinky promise to write extra spicy scenes to make up for it! Mwah!! xoxo

Original A/N Hey! This is gonna be my first fanfic ever, and kind of long so bare with me as I world-build. I get nervous thinking about posting this but my maladaptive daydreams just come up with the best material I have to type it out. This is gonna have some key points that I've entirely made up and doesn't exist in the TLW universe but hey, anything to make the story flow yeah? Lastly, this is Fem!Rabbit (medium-sized)(Y/N Ramirez)x Death(Lobo)

conejita = bunny (fem)

if there are spelling errors feel free to alert me! enjoy ☆

Chapter One: Table 7a.

'I am definitely a morning person.'

You thought to yourself as the sunlight from your bedroom window basically blinded you. You sighed, it must be 10am. You always woke up at 10am. No alarm needed, somehow your body knew what awaited it and got itself up without much help.

'I am absolutely a morning person.'

You tried to convince yourself as you stretched and felt all of the stiffness from sleep crackled and popped itself away. You finally summoned the energy to stand and immediately a shiver shot up from your feet to your head. The floor was ice cold, making you want to jump back into the sunny warmth of your bed. But instead, with a heavy sigh you treaded forward into your bathroom. You splashed warm water on your face and when you did you realized your face was cold as well, and the water felt nice. You let the water form a shallow pool in your hands and gently placed your face there.

'Maybe you really are a morning person.'

The thought crossed your mind only to be quickly interrupted by the sound of loud knocking on your front door.

You hastily patted your face dry and rushed to the door to see your long-time friend, Mateo standing there, looking more guilty than a murderer in Church.

"Don't be mad-" he started before you cut him off with a whiny retort.

"Noo Mateo don't do this to me pleasee." You begged, trying to avoid the inevitable B.S you knew was gonna come out of Mateo's mouth.

"I'm sorry Y/N, but Diego got hammered last night and he's really sick this morning, I even went over to check, just to make sure he wasn't lying and the poor kid is throwing up chunks. There's no way he can work, can you pleaaase work a double, por favorrr."

You sighed, knowing that you were definitely going to cover for him, but you were absolutely going to complain to yourself about it all morning.

"I am NOT a morning person, Mateo...but fine. I will come in, give me an hour and I'll be there and before you ask, sí, you do owe me, as well as Diego."

"Wait what, I'm just the messeng-" Mateo blurted before being interrupted with a playful "Adíos" and the door being shut in his face.

While getting ready to start your work day hours earlier than usual you cursed everything under the sun.

Curse your anxiety for making it so you would work at the same bar for 6 years, too afraid of new settings and people to ever try and get another job.

Curse Deigo for not knowing his drinking limits, forcing you to come in early instead of following your usual morning routine that you clung to so tightly.

Curse your need for control over your life, making you feel so overwhelmed and anxious when simple things like covering for a coworker occurs unexpectantly.

Curse life for being so difficult all the time.

Curse death too because if you were immortal you wouldn't have to worry about any of this at all.

You chuckled at your mini rant in your head before heading off to work at the bar that's been somewhat of a second home to you.

When you arrived at the bar, you took your usual position behind the counter, setting up your work area with clean glasses and making sure your kegs were ready. Your boss, Maria, placed a hand on your shoulder making you jump.

"Hola Y/N! Sorry to call you in like this, I know you already were gonna work the night shift but idiot one, Mateo, spent the after hours taking shots with idiot two, Diego, knowing he's a lightweight so, here we are, your lunch is on me today okay?" She gave you a reassuring smile before zipping away to take care of her duties.

You caught Mateo cleaning a table across the room and you shot him the coldest dirty look you could muster. No wonder he looked so nervous this morning, he was the main culprit. Mateo mouthed a pitiful "Sorry...love you!" while making a heart shape with his hands before running away out of your view into a backroom.

You sighed, and decided that you were going to try and make today a good day. At least at work you can escape your head. No room to overthink when you have to think about orders and drink making and cleaning tables.

Looking at a wall clock that read 11:34am, you decided to get lost in your work.

To your appreciation, the earlier work day went by fast. You saw the usual customers with their usual tales and problems and met a few newcomers who were just happy to see the bottom of a glass.

Checking the time again, it read 1:39am.

'Last call is at 2am, if I go fast I can be outta here by 3am.' You thought to yourself while drying some shot glasses.

Most of your coworkers bid you goodnight a while ago, they were lucky enough to only have one shift. You were left with Gabriella, a nice girl with good street smarts, and Maria, your ever so loving boss.

Gabriella bumped her hip into yours with a tired but happy smile on her face. She was always a bit of a space invader but she also was the first person to check in on you most times as well as defending you from customers who got a bit belligerent after too many drinks. So, you didn't mind her touchiness.

"Hanging in there Y/N? We're almost done! I'm ready for a nice hot bath tonight." she said while she picked up a few glasses, helping you get them clean.

"I'm definitely tired. When I see Mateo and Diego again they're never gonna hear the end of it....like...ever. I will haunt them in the afterlife, just watch Gabi, just watch."

Gabriella laughed before greeting Maria who then came behind the counter and got very close to you and Gabriella.

"Alright ladies, mira mira, table 7a.-"

You glanced up at the table that sat in the back corner of the bar, there sat a hooded figure, so tall they looked like they would tower over you even while sitting. You couldn't make out much of the figures face, except for a nose and mouth that definitely belongs to a wolf.

You were a little unsettled by them, afterall, if they wanted a late night drink, shouldn't they have approached the bar? Why sit in the dark, and why not speak to the bartender..? Are they looking for trouble?

Your thoughts were interrupted with the rest of Maria's sentence.

"He called me over, said he wants a Black Russian, I've got to count the drawers for the night so you two handle that..and be extra kind to him..seems like he's in a bad mood..."

Maria looks up at you both with a hint of concern in her eyes.

"If he causes trouble..call the coppers first...then me..kay'?"

Both you and Gabriella were a bit taken aback by Maria's request.

'Did he really give her that bad of a vibe?' you thought before returning your glance to the hooded figure. He now was looking up, and straight at all three of you. He had piercing red eyes that seemed illuminated no matter the lighting. You could swear you saw a small sinister grin on his face as he stared intently. You suddenly felt so uneasy, and unsafe. Your heart quickened its pace so you forced yourself to look away. Maria had apparently already left and you turned your head to see Gabriella caught in the same petrified state you were in.

"Gabi-" you started only to be cut off by her somewhat shaky voice. She snapped her head to look you in the eyes.

"Y/N, I'll wash the dishes, wipe the tables, sweep the floors and even prepare the kegs for tomorrow. But I'm not serving him."

"Gabi, you don't have to do all tha-"

Gabriella took another glance at the hooded figure and whatever she saw made her have visible goosebumps.

"I'll start now." She chirped quickly before dashing into the backroom.

You looked back at table 7a, and now there was no mistaking it. He was smiling. A bit wider than he was before as well. He found something funny, and for some reason, that gave you the same goosebumps Gabriella had.

You didn't want to trigger an anxiety attack, which were at times unfortunately frequent for you, so you figured you would just make his drink, the quicker you can get this stranger out of here, the better.

His drink...

.......

His drink....

'What the hell did he order again???'

You cursed yourself for forgetting what Maria said he wanted. You cursed this strangers intense gaze for erasing all of the thoughts from your head. Maria kept her office locked while counting money, and there was no way Gabriella remembered since she never had the intention of serving him anyway.

You were gonna have to ask him.

'Shit.'

You grabbed your little notebook and pen from behind the counter before hesitantly making your way to table 7a.

You tried to keep your eyes down at the floor but you did glance up while making your way over and confirmed your suspicion that this wolf was staring you down all the way to his table. It left this ball of uneasiness in the pit of your stomach. You took a big but quiet breath in as you approached his table.

"Hola señor, I'll be serving you tonight, could you please remind me what your order was again?" You prayed your unease didn't show in your tone as you put on your best customer serving voice.

The wolf said nothing for a few seconds, staring at you with a smile that maybe would seem friendly on anyone else but him. Those seconds felt like an eternity as you took the time to see his face up close. His fur was white, with a dark mask like pattering over his eyes leading all the way down his snout. Despite the ghastly hood that might have suggested otherwise, his fur looked soft. You admittedly thought about what it would feel like to touch it. You concluded that on closer inspection, he was a bit handsome.

"A Black Russian." His voice interrupted your shameless thoughts. His voice was deep, smooth and cold and had the inflection like he thought something was just a bit comical.

"Of course, coming right up." You quickly spun yourself around and sped walked away back to the safety of the counter.

In practically no time, the Black Russian was made. This time while walking back to the table you made sure to keep your eyes down. You wondered when the last time someone even ordered a Black Russian was.

When you reached his table, you desperately didn't want to meet his eyes again, they made you feel like you were frozen in place, staring hopelessly at something that looked like it kinda wanted to eat you. So instead you focused your sight on your hand placing the drink on the table, trying again to hide your uneasiness.

All the while, Death, unbeknownst to you, was having a bit of a fun time watching you. The way you had tapped your pen nervously on your notepad, the way you bounced from one foot to the other, biting your lower lip and desperately trying to avoid eye contact. And he especially took notice of the way your tail twitched now and again. He knew he made you unbelievably unnerved and you wanted nothing more than to escape the situation. And yet there you were, taking his order with the shakiest smile ever. You could've cowardly escaped to the backroom like your friend but you didn't. You endured his unsettling gaze and he admittedly loved every moment of it.

"Will that be all..it's the last call so.." Your voice finally gave in and you couldn't hide your uncomfortability towards the end of your sentence.

He decided he was having more fun than he planned to, and he wasn't finished torturing you yet. He licked his lips, and you took a shameful amount of interest in the size of his teeth and the way his tongue rolled over them.

"Actually, I meant to order a White Russian. Would you mind.." He looked up at you, giving a smirk that didn't hide his devious amusement.

It took you a second to find your train of thought.

"Right, a White Russian..so cream then, I'll be right back." you chirped before retreating once again to your counter.

While fetching the cream needed for his drink, Maria finally left the safety of the office, she had her coat on, so you guessed she was ready to leave. She glanced over to the wolf, before turning her gaze back onto you.

"Any trouble out of that one?"

Truthfully, despite feeling as though you wanted to run for the hills during your entire interaction with him, and having a hunch that you will never forget those daggers he has for eyes. He wasn't actually guilty of anything other than looking like serial killer. You couldn't truthfully claim he did anything worth being labeled trouble.

"No, he um, just wanted a White Russian instead." you stated while motioning with the small pitcher of cream in your hand. Maria breathed a sigh of relief.

"That's good, well Gabi seemed a little sick when I saw her last in the back so I sent her home, she didn't get to wipe the tables so that and locking up are your final tasks for the night. It's raining pretty hard so try and find a spare umbrella in the back. Night Y/N." Maria then made her way out of the back exit. Leaving you and the wolf in the bar alone.

. . .

Oh right, his White Russian.

You spun around to see him tapping his claw on the table. Guess you took too long, he no longer seemed as amused.

You zipped to his table, while simultaneously trying not to spill any cream. When you approached him he immediately startled you with his voice.

"Any longer and the ice would've melted..and I thought rabbits were meant to be fast." He gave a deep half chuckle.

You were almost offended at his comment, there wasn't a need for stereotypes, after all you could say a lot about him being a big scary wolf. Suddenly, you had newly sprung courage bubble up in you. You poured the cream carefully and decided to speak up.

"If you had ordered the right drink the first go around you wouldn't have to wait Señor Lobo. We all can't be perfect."

As soon as the words left your mouth, you desperately wanted to swallow them back up. Hesitantly, you peeked up at the wolf. For a second you thought you might've saw a surprised expression on his face before quickly being replaced by one of devious amusement once again. He gave a deep hearty laugh before downing his drink and licking his lips. You cursed yourself for focusing on his mouth so much.

He then abruptly stuck out his paw with a grin.

You hesitantly placed your hand in his and gave a small shake.

"Death." he spoke as he tilted his head slightly, not letting go of your hand.

"What? Wait like, that's your name or..are you wishing it on me?" You asked giving a fake chuckle, hoping that he wasn't actually wishing death on you.

"That's my name. And yours is?" He still held your hand, it was strangely cold for someone who was covered in so much fur.

"Y/N..Ramirez." You gave a small smile before gently trying to pull your hand back only for him to hold it tighter for a second longer before letting go.

You hadn't really thought too deeply into his name, you've met a lot of folks with all sorts of unique names, some they were given, others they came up with themselves. If anything, his name suited him well. You couldn't imagine if he had a name like..José or Luis.

"Well, Death..the bar is now closed and I've just got these tables to clean before locking up. It was..nice meeting you and I hope you come again." You gave him the same spiel you gave every new customer.

"Of course, enjoy the rest of your evening, Y/N," He said smoothly. You nodded and reached into your servers belt to fish out his receipt.

However, when you looked up to give it to him, he was gone, and on the table was a pile of gold coins that were worth more than what one lousy White Russian would cost.

You looked around in confusion as you didn't comprehend how he could've gotten past you without making a sound. Or how he could've left through the front doors without ringing the bells at the top. You shook your head as you realized how tired you were. You scooped up the coins and left them on Maria's desk for tomorrow, after that you wiped the tables down and let your mind wander as you locked all the doors and windows of the bar.

You initially thought that Death's encounter with you would leave you with nightmarish memories of his red eyes and chilling demeanor. Instead, however, you kept thinking about all the wrong things.

You thought about how you liked his fur, and how soft it looked.

You like his scent, it reminded you of how it smells right after it rains.

You liked the way he talked, deep, smooth, and confident.

You liked the way his tongue glossed over his large teeth..and the way your hand felt in his..

You forcefully ejected yourself from your embarrassing thoughts as you locked the front door and stepped into the hard rain.

'Right. Maria did say it was raining and I did not grab an umbrella. What a damn idiot am I.'

You sighed deeply, preparing yourself for the 15 minute soaking wet walk you were gonna have to take home. You only got a couple paces in the direction of your home before you stopped in your tracks.

'Ah, I was right. I didn't forget those eyes.'

You thought to yourself as you immediately recognized Death's illuminated red eyes in the shadow of a tree not too far from where you stood. Hesitantly, you called out to him.

"...Death?"

Instantly, he emerged from the shadows, chuckling to himself as he approached you.

"Bien, conejita, muy bien. You have good awareness."

For some reason, you made a mental note to remember his compliment to you.

"Were you out here waiting for me?" you asked as he finally got within a few feet of you. It was then you truly realized how big he was. You weren't as small as other rabbits in your family, in fact you kinda considered yourself tall for a rabbit and yet, your head only came up to his chest, forcing you to lift your head up to look at him.

"Sí, it's raining hard and you have no umbrella. So I'll be a gentleman and lend you this."

Suddenly the hard pellets of rain no longer battered down on you, you blinked and realized, Death no longer had on his poncho, instead, it was on you.

You felt your cheeks and ears burn red with embarrassment.

"Ah, gracías.." You focused your sight on the ground as you found it too hard to face him in that moment.

"No problem, though of course you can't keep it..we are strangers after all, sí?"

'Oh right. Well then he'll have to take it back...after I get home.....Oh.'

You then realized what he was implying. He was gonna walk you home, you felt your cheeks and ears burn even hotter, and for a second you wanted to feel the rain on your face to cool you down.

"Right, well just this way then.." you trailed off as you began picking your pace back up in the correct direction.

While you focused your gaze on the ground out of shyness, Death focused his gaze on you.

He admittedly wasn't entirely sure why he was out here, walking some bunny to her home in the rain. He only meant to stop in for a quick drink after a long day. He mentally flipped through reasons that led him to be here, chauffeuring a little rabbit home.

He found you interesting, he liked the effect he had on you, specifically.

He had a strong effect on practically everyone. The running, screaming, pleading, fighting back kind of effect.

But on you, there was a push and pull. He noticed the way you couldn't be still under his gaze, how when given the chance you practically scattered to the comfort of the counter away from his table...but he also noticed the way you had unconsciously grazed your thumb over his paw when you shook hands... and the way your breath hitched when he leaned in too close. He chalked up his interest to wanting answers for this strange behavior and figured a quick chat on the way to your home would be all he needed to satisfy his curiosity.

....Plus, he enjoyed the way you had to keep pulling up his poncho because it was much too big for you. He couldn't help but chuckle at the sight.

"It's just past this uphill, not too far." You interrupted his thoughts. Your voice shaky, but this time not from uneasiness, instead, you found yourself very, very cold. Despite his poncho covering most of your body, it wasn't thick enough to not be eventually soaked in the relentless rain.

The shivering as well as the now slippery uphill walk slowed your pace greatly. Death, who was already making an effort to not speed past you with his naturally longer strides now had to come almost to a complete stop. He watched you helplessly attempt to conquer a small hill.

He didn't want to spend this much time on this little side quest of his. Shaking his head, he decided there was no other option.

He swiftly got close behind you and scooped you up bridal style into his arms. You screamed out in surprise as you found yourself suddenly looking up at Death, and the cloudy night sky, with rain more gently now, hitting your face. Death looked annoyed as he moved his mouth dangerously close to your ear.

"Hush now, conejita, you're starting to become more of a burden than you're worth." he whispered in your ear.

Offended, you scowled and looked away from him.

'It wasn't like I asked you to walk me home.' You thought to yourself as you begrudgingly let Death carry you in his arms, wishing you were home already in your warm bed.

Death looked down at you, seeing your hurt expression made him upset. He truthfully didn't mean to come across as rude as he did. The whole reason he's even here right now was to talk to you. Strangely for him, he regretted his comment and tried to change the subject.

"How long have you worked at the bar?" He asked plainly.

"Six and a half years, 17 days and 14 hours but hey who's counting." You grinned at your joke. You honestly did love working at the bar, despite all of the challenges it can present you.

Death nodded before carrying on.

"So then, you've seen many different kinds of people. What do you think of them?"

You gave your answer thought before speaking, humming while you did so.

"Ahh, most people are fun. They just want to let loose and chat everyone's head off. That, or they are looking for some comfort in drinking. Either way, I've had no real problems with most of the customers. I just do my best to give them what they need."

The rain has now come to a light sprinkle, the cold air pushed against you, making you want to retreat into the fur of this large wolf, but you refrained, not wanting to cross a line.

Death hummed in response and then there was a silence. You closed your eyes and focused on the crunch of the leaves under Death's feet as he carried you to home.

You could faintly hear his breathing, calm and steady despite just overcoming the uphill in the rain. The rhythmic rise and fall of his chest combined with the sway of the walk was just the break you needed after such a long day.

Death's voice broke the silence.

"And what do you make of me."

Although it was a question, Death said it like he it was more of a thought to himself, as if he already knew the answer and was just thinking out loud.

You took even longer to answer this time.

"I think you must have it hard, with your appearance being so...unnerving. But you're a good guy I think. Plus, when you get a good look, you look kinda handsome. So cheer up, and don't be so down, you don't have to be the big bad wolf, you can be whatever you want."

You decided to answer honestly as you saw your cottage not too far away. And it's not like you'll ever see this guy again, so who cares if you say something just a bit embarrassing.

Suddenly, Death placed you gently onto your feet and removed his poncho from you.

You turned to look at him, hoping your honesty didn't tick him off. Death stared off at something else. This time he was the one avoiding eye contact.

"You're home, rabbit." He said as he put his poncho back on himself, seemingly unbothered by how cold and wet it was.

You turned to see your cottage just a few paces ahead of you.

"Ah thank you, be safe on your travels."

He paused, still glaring into the void.

"You too conejita, I don't want to see you too soon."

Before you could ask him what that last part meant, you blinked and he vanished. And somehow, with his departure, the air felt warmer.

That night, after a much needed shower and dinner, you laid in your bed with your head full of nothing but the wolf from the bar.

You wished on every star you could see from your window that he wasn't just a passersby.

That you might get to see Death again.

You drifted off to sleep, with dreams of Death filling your head.

.....

Not far from your home, Death sat against a tree. Your words replaying in his mind. He ruffled the fur on the top of his head with a heavy sigh.

He knew he couldn't leave you alone after that.

End of chapter one.

Chapter Two 🔽

#puss in boots #death x reader #wolf x reader #lobo x reader #puss in boots the last wish #puss in boots death #death #death puss in boots #pib death #pibtlw #puss in boots death x reader

[idlebeks]

SVSSS Fic Recs

I'm working on a podfic list. But here, have a couple of Scum Villian recs in the mean time. All BingQui, mostly rated E. This is a fun fandom, there is so much potential for both extreme angst and extreme crack, often at the same time.

Every Binghe/ge deserves a Happy Ending [buy one SY, get one free] by Shireyaki

You can have a Shen Yuan YOU can have a Shen Yuan WE ALL CAN HAVE A SHEN YUAN

Scum Villain AUs by Feynite

Various random alternate universe fics.

Includes:

Supervillain AU Genderswap AU Hades & Persephone AU Dragon Monster AU Mermay AU Free Guy AU

& Many More!

Into the Abyss by esama

In which Shen Yuan pisses the System off and it sends him straight into the Endless Abyss.

Four years later, Shen Qingqiu does the same to Luo Binghe.

Fruiting Body by Calamity Butterfly (Calamity_Butterfly)

“A new body? What has my Shizun done?” Luo Binghe asks mildly.

“Oh, I died again, didn’t I? This time, I died saving you from a qi deviation brought on by that sword,” Shen Qingqiu answers, stroking the caps of the trembling mushrooms still pressed up against his sides. “I suspected I was going to die so I prepared a new body, just in case. But it’s taking a long time to remember myself, and I’m not sure I want to go back once I do.”

Shen Qingqiu awakens in the Sun and Moon Dew Flower body, more fungal than human, and networked into a vast, sentient mycelial network. His new body is more complicated than he anticipated. Luo Binghe finds him, and that is also more complicated than he anticipated.

The Many Trials and Tribulations of Ming Fan by The Feels Whale (miscellea)

Ming Fan just wants to get through ONE supervised night hunt without this happening.

Or: the one where Shen Qingqiu continues to be attractive to people who aren’t Luo Binghe and Liu Qingge. It's a problem.

“Da-shixiong.” Ning-shimei’s groan was barely audible to anyone who didn’t have a cultivator’s enhanced senses. To him and the rest of their assembled siblings, though, it rang out like a bell. The only one who didn’t notice was Shizun. He was up ahead and deep in conversation with the Lord who’d summoned them to investigate a series of local disappearances.

“I saw,” Ming Fan sighed. “Eyes front. Everyone knows their roles.”

Frankly, he’d been braced for this moment since he’d asked around about the family hosting them for the duration of this investigation. He’d discovered that they had two marriage-aged daughters in the household, neither of whom were engaged.

Loaded God Complex, Cock It And Pull It by Camorra

There were three things of which Shen Yuan was absolutely certain. The first, that Luo Binghe was an irredeemable jackass. The second, there was a part of Luo Binghe, and Shen Yuan didn't know how large, that wanted Shen Yuan dead for trussing him like a pig and dumping him on his own front porch. And the third, that Shen Yuan was unconditionally and irrevocably in love with Luo Binghe. P S Y C H !

omg they were roommates by smellslikecitrus

Shen Yuan was a normal chemistry major. What did he do to deserve getting booted into his least-favorite novel?!

Silver lining: Binghe makes really, really good food.

Plastromancy by x_los

"One night, Luo Binghe notices something odd about the way his blood is pooling on the floor of the woodshed."

A twelve year old Luo Binghe meets his Other Shizun.

AQ by x_los

Before he rose to captaincy, Shen Yuan attended a briefing given to all command level officers in Star Fleet that outlined the scope of the Q threat. According to Admiral Picard's report, the omnipotent Q are devious, amoral, unreliable, irresponsible and definitely not to be trusted.

Orphaned stowaway Luo Binghe doesn't even know he is one.

Living With a Tiger by x_los

Shen Yuan has been engaged to Emperor Luo Binghe from almost the hour of his birth. He grows up knowing his place in the world exactly; he is far less certain of his place in his betrothed's guarded affections.

Scum Villain's Accidental Romance System by BurnerAccount

Shen Qingqiu has accepted that yes, this is a novel. And yes, it is going to have stupid plot points that he can (probably) do nothing about. His inevitable, horrible fate is his most probable future - but hey, it's at least a ways off yet, right?

A Stallion novel has stupid tropes, but he's 100% - no, 1000% sure, that these aren't in the standard package.

Anyways, Stan Shen Qingqiu by x_los

Millennial vs Gen Z? Shen Qingqiu wishes.

A young transmigrator has a new idol; Shen Qingqiu is very tired.

I Wish You Were My Husband by Feynite

AU based on The Dreamer in the Spring Boudoir (familiarity with that story's not required).

Wherein Shen Yuan transmigrates into a harem intrigues romance novel (gay edition), Yue Qingyuan really fucks up, Liu Qingge is not suitable for his job, and no one even remotely sees Luo Binghe coming.

Always the Light Falls by Letters2Elvinscend

Growing up is hard. Living up to your mother's expectations is harder. Realizing your Shizun is actually kind of hot is damn near impossible.

System Temporarily Unavailable, Please Don't Abuse The Substitute! by Asymptotical

The System has to go bail another System's world out of a plot crisis.

It told them that its Host would notice, but did they listen? Of course not.

We Never Dreamed These Walls by straightforwardly

When Luo Binghe falls into the Endless Abyss, he accidentally pulls Shen Qingqiu down with him.

#fic recs #svsss fic recs #bingqiu

[polysyndetonaddictsupportgroup]

the higher-ups (and Yaga) immediately trying to leverage Gojo & Ieri's absence to put Yuuta on the roster??? God that's such a stark moment. Thank god Nanami and Gojo saw through that one immediately, because Yuuta wants to justify his own survival so badly he would've fallen straight into it.

That whole scene, with Yuuta immediately jumping on the opportunity to help people even though something is Extremely Wrong with him and he's on the brink of physical collapse--this boy is selfless to the point of self destruction and I am chewing the drywall about it. I love him so much.

If only he was able to summon his newly found homicidal rage in defense of himself, the higher-ups would no longer be a problem. Alas, this boy is Extremely Unwell.

(Sea Glass Gardens is absolutely incredible and i am obsessed with it in a way that is totally and 100% normal. I'm so normal about it, trust me <3 )

The thing about Yuuta is that he really is prime to be taken advantage of right now and the higher ups know it. They had him try to kill himself for them--they know that there's a window of opportunity that they can use to get him under their thumb and avoid The Problem of Gojo, which is, namely, having a human weapon who you cannot fully control. Gojo nailed it from the beginning: they want a magic gatling gun with no personality or free will. They learned their lesson with Gojo and are trying to rob Yuuta of his agency before he learns how to protect himself.

And Yaga's part in that scene really was meant to kind of emphasize how, even with the best intention's, he just doesn't work to protect the kids. Like. everything he said was technically true, and he meant it with the best of intentions. He's the guy who has to think of everyone's needs. he has to manage this crisis. he's got a lot of people hurt badly who just came out of a war, and a lot of people going into fights with some very aggravated curses spawning without sufficient manpower to address the danger and no healer to save them if they cut it a little too close. He didn't have the intention of manipulating or sacrificing Yuuta, but he was aware that it would come to his detriment and risk.

The issue is the higher ups. They don't give a shit about the people in their workforce. They should be the ones doing whatever it takes to solve this crisis and save their people--and if that means giving up on their machinations? They should have already done it. It's their responsibility.

They just don't care. They want Okkotsu Yuuta under their thumb, and their society hemorrhaging is treated like an opportunity, not a dire problem to be solved. They don't care if half a dozen of their own people need to die to do it. Hell, it's better if they do die--they can put it straight on Okkotsu for not being willing to sacrifice himself, when they should have been making whatever promises they had to in order to make this work.

Gojo's done this before, is the thing. He was Yuuta, a long time ago. Nanami was right there watching it happen. They both know what the higher ups do: They let society get to a crisis level and put all the responsibility on you to save it. they let you maneuver yourself into a vulnerable position as a result, and then they use it as leverage to put their goddamn boot on your neck.

The thing is that Gojo adopting megumi all those years ago really did put them into a crisis state. the zenin pitched the mother of all bitch fits trying to secure his unconditional return, and they were a huge percentage of jujutsu society's labor force and resource pools. instead of the higher ups managing the problem at all, they took advantage of the situation and shoved more and more of its weight and responsibility onto gojo, until he was dropping off his own kid at his abusers' compound thinking it was the only compromise that could resolve things. megumi paid the price for gojo not calling bullshit, and right now, with him in a hospital bed? gojo's less willing to repeat mistakes than ever.

he knows that they're going to use the safety and suffering of everyone else as the leverage against him, and he knows that as terrible as it is, he cannot blink first. He's played this game before, and he knows that the only way to get the higher ups to back off on something like this is to dig in your heels.

I think what happened to Megumi all those years ago and how bad it got before they put a stop to it is something that haunts all three of them. When they first started raising him, they were very young, and they were very broken, and they loved him very, very much. He was their little boy, and he was never the same after the Zenin. They were supposed to protect him, and they didn't, and not a single one of them has forgiven themselves for that.

Megumi was sort of sacrificed for the greater good when he was a kid. None of them thought that that was what they were doing when it happened, but that's what happened. His happiness, safety, and wellbeing were sacrificed to pacify the Zenin and make it easier on everyone else.

Megumi and Tsumiki had to become their non-negotiables after. They had to become the things they refused to compromise on. The Zenin would take miles and miles if you gave them a millimeter, let alone an inch.

Gojo didn't think he was compromising them when he left them on their own to deal with Geto's war. They were disgustingly self-sufficient kids. They had been alone for longer stretches of time when they were practically toddlers--they should have been fine on their own for a couple of weeks.

But they were still his kids, and he still left them alone for everyone else's sake, and now his kid is blind and half dead in a hospital bed. It's like being punched in the face by old mistakes.

So they're off the roster completely, all of them. And they're not compromising an inch on what their focus is, and they're not letting anything happen to any of the other kids in their care.

It's terrible that their coworkers are suffering, but it wouldn't be happening if the Zenin hadn't fucked with Gojo Satoru's kid, of all the goddamn people. It wouldn't be happening if the higher ups would actually do their job and start managing shit.

And if they use Yuuta as an anxiety riddled bandaid on the bullet hole in their society? Then they'd be sacrificing him the way they sacrificed Megumi all those years ago. And they have never been less willing to do that.

I'm so so glad you like the story! Thank you for talking with me!

#i think gojo has such a big emphasis on giving kids the tools to protect themselves because no one ever did that for him or geto #geto snapped under the pressure and was lost to gojo forever #Gojo repeatedly focuses on giving the kids the tools to enjoy their childhood without being hurt #like with yuuji--he doesn't want him to sacrifice his youth and happiness with the others #so he focuses on giving him the strength to protect himself when gojo isn't there #in my mind that's also why gojo was always trying to feed yuuji the fingers #like when i first started the series it seemed kind of weird to me because gojo very obviously didn't want yuuji dead #until i realized that yuuji canonically had a good chance at suppressing sukuna even at 20 fingers as long as he had them spaced out #if yuuji had sukunas power level and had gotten it in increments eventually the higher ups couldnt touch him and hed still be under control #honestly none of the adults are doing well right now #a little under a decade ago the issue with the zenin came to a head and megumi ended up being very small and very hurt in a hospital bed #and they promised him that it would never happen again #now he looks very small and very hurt and he's in a hospital bed and the zenin put him there #as much as he's an angry teenager who hates displays affection he really is their little boy and they adore him #nanami was the one who took him from the zenin the final time all those years ago and he personally promised megumi that he would never eve #go back to that place. he feels like a complete failure right now. #gojo always blamed himself for not digging in his heels and refusing the custody compromise and now he's FURIOUS that this happened under #his nose a second time. i think gojos really interesting in the hero role because he's canonically low empathy and struggles with homicidal #impulses and let me tell you he thought about just killing all the zenin back then and he's REALLY thinking about it right now. there's one #fucking way of making sure this never happens again. #shoko generally feels like shit because this is supposed to be the one thing she can do to help and she /can't/ do it right now to help #megumi. also she privately thinks she had the most opportunity to realize how bad it was with the zenin back then and /didn't/. #she was going through a lot of her own issues back then and the zenin had some kind of believable excuses for why megumi was always banged #up. like. he was already getting into fights at school. its not like the zenin had issues procreating. they said he was picking fights #with other kids and that's where he got hurt. they actually blamed maki more than once. and some bruises here and there is expected for a #kid in combat training even at what was meant to be a very preliminary level. he was supposed to be in like. kiddie karate classes and they #didn't realize the zenin were training him like a fucking marine. it was SO obvious in hindsight and that tortures them. #protecting yuuta right now kind of feels like a chance to get it right the first time and all of them need that now that they feel like the #fucked it up with megumi a second time #sea glass gardens