#maybe then again this is my little demon terrorizing me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

haruchi-slit · 4 months

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BAD (GOOD) IDEA!

synopsis: Summoning a incubus, Sukuna

warnings: Sukuna has horns, he's a demon/curse, monster fucking, Sukuna has 2 pps and a mouth on his belly, dub con, MENTIONS OF BLOOD AND CUTTING (IT'S FOR THE RITUAL) fucking against the wall, THE RITUAL THINGY ISN'T REAL! English isn't my first language so please forgive me if my grammar's wrong and yeaa a lot of other kinky stuff ˊ⁠ᵕ⁠ˋ

a/n: might do a Higuruma, Gojo, or Toji smut/ff/fluff next, any ways isn't Sukuna's just such a cutiepatootie i also tend to use complete English words for sukuna instead of Contractions, like: isn't - is not cause, get it? he's a 1000 year's old tee-hee this is a late Christmas present ;>

After you applied and got accepted at the company your friend's working, you visited your local library to read, and maybe borrow some books, a particular book, caught your attention, it's designed with eyes and plant vines, so curiosity got the better out off you.

"Miss can I borrow this?" you asked as you put the book on the counter,

"Oh hi!, yes, yes you can ma'am, but be really careful" she said, not paying attention to what the librarian, you carelessly dug your own grave, or maybe..not.

"Your Id please, ma'am" the employee says

"Yeah, here" you said looking for your Id in your wallet, once you found your Id you gave it to the librarian.

You got home, completely tired, you placed the book down on your study table, you sat down and decided to read it once you opened it, you realized that the pages only contains pictures, you saw a four armed human with horns, you're not quite sure if it was a demon or a human, while looking thru the pages, a particular page had your eyes dazzling.

it was an instruction on how to summon the

"human" in the book.

You knew it's not a good idea to build and set a little shrine to summon the "human" in the book, but you thought,

"Curses, demons, or other evil spirits don't exist" you scoffed "what else could go wrong"

you shrugged snickering to your self.

You deeply cutted the tip of your finger, you watched your blood drip to the palm of your hand you drew a box with a mouth and four eyes on the paper, As you were doing the ritual, the little shrine you made lits up and turned into ashes, as a portal appears on your bedroom floor, it was the "human" in the book,

he wears a woman's kimono, he has horns, four eyes, you can't help but to look on his stomach with a huge mouth, his about 8ft tall, he has tattoos all over his body and only two arms?, you we're taken a back as you screamed in terror, which made the demon shot the deadliest glare.

"Is that how you greet your guest?, humans." he rolled his eyes as he unclasped his arms,

"F-fuck!" you exclaimed, while you ran fast as you could to unlock your door, but unfortunately the demon appears in front of your bedroom door in a matter of second, which results you bumping on his muscular stomach,

"Summoning me and then running away?, that is quite rude for a lady is it not?, come on do not be scared of me, brat." the demon said forming a devious smirk.

"What-what in the hell are you!?" you breath uncontrollably.

"What do you think human?, I'm a Incubus, you did not read the book?"

you tilted your head, "A what?" you asked, he chuckles at your naive response.

"I'll show what an incubus can do" he once again plastered his devious smirk.

He throws you on your soft mattress causing you to lay flat, you were completely frozen, he towers on top of you, with his muscular and obviously strong structure, you knew you were hopeless.

He lightly sat on your knees, traping you, making sure you can't move,

he removes his kimono, revealing his other set of arms

"Hey- what do your think you're doing!?" you stutter,

he shot seductive glares and you can't lie he's damn fucking attractive!, he acted like he didn't heard you, as he remove his undergarments and tossed it to the ground, he then shook his head as he shushes your mouth, he lifts you up and makes you sit on his lap, you were still in shock so tried to look away, he grabs your jaw forcing you to look at him.

"Eyes on me little one."

you bit your lips trying not to cry, but it was no avail your tears dripped down your cheeks and the demon found it pathetic.

"Humans are so emotional" he chuckles as he leans close to your face, he then licks your tears of, "I'll make you cry in pleasure too" he said and kissed you, you responded to the kiss, you don't know why but the kiss was sloppy, rough, he was dominant, and he doesn't hide it, he bits your lower lip to open your mouth in which he succeed, he roams his tongue in your mouth transferring some of his saliva in you, tongues currently fighting for dominance, you were so lost in the deep kiss, so he took the opportunity to slide the tongue on his belly in your shorts taking you by surprise, you let out a breathy moan as you once again latched your mouth on his lips, his belly tongue draws up and down licking every cornee of your vagina, your short were completely wet by how the demon was spitting on your pussy and abusing it, you broke the deep kiss as soon as you felt his dick erect, you looked at your back as you realized he has two dicks you gasp, you couldn't believe a living being could have two!

"What?, are you surprised little human?" he asked his tongue still moving down your pussy, "Nnn~ ha!" you whimpered as you nodded several times, "feeling good brat?"

"Ha! ugh hah!" you nodded once again, your hand going up to your tits squishing together,

the demon, once again, laughed at your pathetic state

"still not enough?, human are soo greedy" he says as he stood up and lifts you up high against the wall then tore your shorts and panties off, he uses his lower set of arms to hold your lower thigh as the upper set of arms was used as a support to your waist, he leveled your body to his mouth and remember his 8ft tall, so your literally high up against the wall, he spreads your legs wider as he latched his mouth on your pussy, sloppily eating it, focusing on your clit more, so you'll lose your mind faster, he fucking knows how to work that tongue up, his a 1000 years old curse after all, you were above the cloud, in how fucking good he was,

"oh fuuhh!!~ demon, hah! incubus! what ever you are nnn~ so fucking good!" you moaned

"Don't call me shits you brat, Sukuna or Ryomen your choice, little human."

he said while you didn't respond, he latched his mouth on your pussy again, burying his face furthermore making your back arch, against the wall, the room was filled with slurping sounds, whimpers and moans, you feel your walls starting to twitch you knew you're close, and Sukuna noticed so he fasten his pace flicking your puffy clit, spitting on your pussy with no remorse.

"R-ryomen!~ Fuck!" you screamed, as you orgasmed on his long tongue,

"You like that hmm?~" he asked but you couldn't respond cause you were still high,

"ok that's enough foreplay." he said as he aligns his dicks on your pussy and ass.

he slams his dick in you while his arms still supports your little body, he pins your whole body against the wall, his cocks were thick, and quite long, "So- f'king big! i can't!" you cried out "you'll tear me up Ryo!" you added scratching on his shoulders and back,

"oh come on little human, you can do it" he laughs as he pushes his dicks in you,

"my dicks just half way there don't pass out"

penetrating both of your holes

"Ryomen Oh my!" you bit your tongue in result it bleed, "shushh" Sukana says as he kissed your lips, you tasted the metallic taste of your blood while kissing him, as his dicks finally enters both your holes, you can feel his other cock moving in your ass, making it more ten times good, tongue lolled up, saliva dripping from both ends of your mouth, eyes almost crossing, his cocks hits every spot, with every thrust, you scream, and each scream was punctuated,

"Ah~hah, your pussy won't let me move that much, so t-tight" Sukuna states, as he buried his face to the crook of your collarbone, you can feel your pussy latching on his cock like it was it's life source, like if it disappears it would die, "Sukuna nnn!" you moaned your brain turned into a mush with all the pleasure, his cocks hitting each and every g-spot in your body, his cock kissing your womb with his thrust after trust, he lifts you up once again toward your mattress making you sit on top of him, letting you take control,

"come on little human show me what you got."

you bounced up and down holding on to his horns for support as his lower set of arms is buried deep on the flesh of your hips, as his top set of arms was on top of his head,after bouncing on top of him non-stop he came after, your eyelid fell after that, and then you woke up, with heavy breaths, you observed the room your in, you're still in your bed room, fully clothed under your blanket, you looked at your digital clock beside your bed, and realized it was time for your work,

"Thank god it was just a wet dream haha~" you yawned,

"oops, can't be late for my new job" you lightly laughed. Unfortunately you we're late.

Upon arriving at your workplace, you we're 20 minutes late. your friend, Geto greets you after coming out of the elevator,

"oh good morning~, the boss is waiting for you" Geto says and points a the door, that you assumed the boss's office,

"uh-oh, is it because im late?" you asked

which made Geto shrug " I don't know" he says "just goo aheadd, I'll grab you some coffee, see you later" added.

You knocked on your Boss's office

"Come in" a familiar voice, as soon as you opened the door, your boss greets you,

"Did you have fun last night, little human?"

"Ryomen..."

a/n: no part two👹

#jjk smut #sukuna x you #ryomen sukuna smut #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna smut #incubus sukuna #jjk #toji smut #sukuna x y/n #ryomen sukuna x reader #smut sukuna

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beamtori · 5 months

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𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐲

demon (in human form)!ji changmin x afab!reader

it's a silly thing that brings you both to intimacy, but the intimacy is never silly.

3.0k words, smut (minors dni), incredibly soft sex, talks abt sex/dicks lol (if u can't talk abt it, then don't do it!), unprotected sex (wrap it before u tap it bro), penetrative sex, fingering, low-key body worship (f.receiving), so much kissing, pet name (sweetheart), mentions of a broken wrist and scars?

a/n: this is an extension to my fic night terrors on my main! there are a couple refs from the fic, but the established dynamic is a huge turnaround for me in terms of writing for changmin if u haven't read night terrors yet LMAO anyways, for me and @mosviqu ily bar!! <3

CHANGMIN HAD GROWN USED TO your random questions of curiosity. There was, after all, so much you didn't know about his world, and for the most part, he was perfectly fine divulging information to you and being honest. He cared about you, after all. Loved you, even. It was just what he felt around and about and for you.

“How do demons have sex?”

He nearly snorted water through his nose.

You glanced over at him innocently from where you were perched on the hotel bed, your phone connected to its charger discarded on the nightstand.

He cleared his throat, capping the water bottle and setting it aside so he wouldn't choke again. “Sorry?” He sputtered, thumping his fist against his chest.

Your eyelashes fluttered and you replied airily, “Do you have sex the way humans do? Like… vaginal penetration or…? Am I making sense? Do you even have a—”

“Yn, I have a dick,” he cut in, then made a face. “Why are we having this conversation again?”

The two of you were holed up in a hotel several hours’ ride from Moonstone Creek. You were currently on your way to meet one of Changmin's clients about a missing lucky witch's cauldron. Instead of shacking up at a motel, you insisted on staying at a nicer hotel for once. Screw saving money this time; your ass deserved a break after sitting in his car for however long. Maybe you should invest in a butt pad…

You shrugged, shifting your position so you sat at the foot of the bed with your feet dangling over the edge. You held your dominant wrist with the other hand—a month had passed since it had been shattered, and though almost completely healed, it was still a little tender. “I was just thinking,” you said. “Is it like a human d—”

“It's a penis, Yn,” he deadpanned. “You've seen one, right?”

Your skin warmed. “Of course, I have,” you sputtered. “I was just curious about your—” You stopped yourself. “That sounds wrong.”

Changmin arched a brow at you, braiding his arms over his chest as he leaned against the table across from you. “Supernatural creatures do have needs, too, you know. Sex isn't just a human thing.”

“I know that,” you shot back. Sex definitely wasn't exclusive to humans. “When was the last time you had sex?"

“I don't understand where this is coming from.”

“Are you a virgin?”

A laugh bubbled out of his mouth. “I think it's impossible for a demon to be a virgin in any sense,” he said, head tilted to the side, tongue tracing his slight smile. It was funny for him to think about, really.

His eyes fixated on you again. “Are you a virgin?”

“Me? No.” Even when you were working your ass off for your accounting degree, you managed to find time to socialize with somebody. It hadn't been that special, really, but the guy had been decent and not an asshole. By your limited scope, that was as okay a time as any.

The room descended into silence.

You could tell he was thinking about something with the crease between his brows and the muscle in his jaw twitching. You didn't know what it was, but you could read that much.

“So why haven't we had sex yet?” was the question that popped out of your mouth next. It wasn't necessarily directed for him to answer; it was more so a… thinking-aloud situation… right…

But by the surprise that flickered across his face, he was going to answer it anyway. “I—I don't know. I guess…” He scratched the side of his head. “I never really thought about it.”

“Oh.”

You could see the regret as soon as he said it.

He brushed a hand through his hair, stepping over to you and kneeling in front of you. His eyes fluttered closed for a second before opening again. “I didn't mean it—like that. I just mean that so much has happened that it's the last thing on my mind. I didn't want it to come off like I only wanted that from you.”

“I know you don't,” you said, leaning onto your knees to lower your face slightly toward his. “But we both have needs, don't we?”

“Are you saying you're in the mood?” He asked.

“I mean—I was looking out for both of us.” You sat up again, leaning back onto your hands, putting more emphasis on your nondominant one. He followed you up and stood between your legs, knee pressing down onto the mattress to lean over you and collect you in his arms.

You both tumbled onto the sheets, your face pressed to his chest and his chin tucked over your head, legs tangled together. “I don't know,” you muttered, “it's been a good month, and I guess I was just…” Insecure. “I’m being ridiculous though,” you laughed the thought away, “every couple goes at their own pace.”

His fingers grasped your chin and pulled your eyes to meet his. The eye contact was strangely intimate with him as it always was. “Yn,” he said lowly, “you’re not being ridiculous.”

He rolled his body over yours, arms bracketed around your head with your noses a breath apart. “Can I kiss you?” He asked in earnest, searching your face.

You nodded, eyes wide. “Yes.”

His hand curled around the back of your head as he lowered his mouth over yours. Your nose slotted beside his, and you raised your upper body to hold onto him and press yourself all the more close. You sighed, his tongue pressing into your mouth to deepen the kiss.

There had been a few other times you'd kissed before. There was no rush with this one. He took his sweet time with you, kissing you languidly, devouring you whole. His limbs wrapped around you like a python so you were unable to leave his grasp—as if you wanted to.

When you broke apart, you were flushed and his breathing was heavy. He brushed the hair from your face, your eyes glazed as you stared up at him. “I've never been intimate with someone I care so much about,” he confessed, his voice gravelly from the kiss. Your lips parted for his thumb as he dragged it over your bottom lip.

“Me neither,” you told him. You reached up to run your hand through his hair. “Is it scary?”

“The way I feel about you?” He wrestled down a swallow. “I'm terrified.” Terrified to break you, to lose you, to hurt you. Everything in between.

It wasn't always that you were given the privilege of seeing him so open and vulnerable. He had slowly become better around you, especially around you, but there was still a few things you had to get past. It was okay though; he just needed time. That much you understood. This was new to you, too.

“I'm nervous,” you admitted quietly, “but I trust you.”

He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your mouth. Your eyes fluttered closed. “I trust you, too.”

Changmin brought his lips to the corner of your mouth, then to the underside of your jaw. Your fingers buried themselves into his hair as he trailed his lips down the column of your neck as if to taste every inch of your skin.

Your heart palpitated in your chest and you held him close, neck craned to encourage him. A moan slipped from your mouth when you felt his teeth graze your pulse. The rough pad of his tongue swiped over the mark he left.

It was strange to think of how trust and love worked. It would be so easy to rip your throat out, but instead, he was here kissing you.

His fingers danced along the bottom hem of your shirt in silent question, and you guided his hand beneath the fabric and along your bare skin. You shuddered as his fingers trailed up your side and reached the edge of your bra.

He raised his lips up to meet yours again, eyes half lidded.

Your shirt came up and over your head, bra clasp unsnapping behind your body until your top half was bare before him.

And he looked at you under him with an expression you couldn't discern immediately. It was that thing he always did, the look he had in his eyes when he stared at you, but this time felt slightly different.

You shied away into yourself, one of your arms coming to lie across your chest. “What?” You let out a small laugh.

He swallowed, meeting your eyes. “I…” Changmin took your arm and brought your once-shattered wrist to his mouth. He pinned your arm above your head then, so he could see you. “Nothing, I just—you’re beautiful.”

Your resolve softened. “You can touch me.”

He kissed you again then, softly, one palm enclosing around your left breast. You shivered, your heart throwing itself up against its confines so it might reach the hand it wanted to be held in.

Changmin rolled one perked nipple between his fingers and you arched your chest up into his hand.

“I never say it—” He said, tongue swiping over your lips again for any and every taste of you, “—as much as you deserve to hear it.”

His lips met your pulse again, mouth trailing down your clavicle, to the pendant resting on your sternum. The pulsing of the scarlet mirrored your own racing heartbeat and gave your state of mind clean away. Every touch of his lips, lap of his tongue, nip of his teeth along your skin felt like he was tracing your outline and committing you to memory. Every inch of you, loved and worshiped and acknowledged. Not his to own, but his to cherish.

Changmin's shirt came off next, exposing a toned upper body marked in faded white scars here and there. Oh, to kiss each mark upon his body—an endeavor for another time. The twin to your necklace swung over you from around his neck as he returned himself to your embrace.

“You're beautiful, too—d’you know that?” You murmured to him between the breaths between kisses.

“Only if you show me.”

You smiled against his mouth. “Deal.”

You felt his mouth curl up in a similar gesture, his arms wrapping around your waist and pressing the length of his body against yours. His weight was a comfort, kissing him was a dream.

Changmin tugged the waistline of your pants down, fingers hooking in the elastic of your underwear, then pausing. “This okay, sweetheart?”

You nodded, and you helped kick your bottoms off and away. He was swift to follow suit, the belt of his buckle clinking together as he slid it off, then his jeans, and boxers. You could see the outline of his cock strain through the fabric before his aching, reddened length slapped against his lower stomach.

“Would it ruin the mood if I said that probably isn't what your demon form dick looks like?” You asked cheekily as he clambered back over you.

Changmin rolled his eyes. “I'm tryna be romantic and all you can talk about is—mmmph!”

You silenced him by dragging his mouth back down to yours. He melted into you, weaving his hand between your bodies so he could drag his fingers through your lower lips. You jolted at the feeling, your hips twitching in his direction in a silent plea.

He groaned low into your mouth, withdrawing as he circled his fingers through your arousal. “Is this all for me?” He asked, dipping a finger into your cunt. His thumb drew dizzying circles into your clit, and you swore you saw stars.

“Yeah, 's all for you,” you exhaled, earning you a searing kiss as he swallowed those words.

You pushed your hips against his hand, a pair of his thick fingers filling you up and curling against the sweet, gummy spot of your inner walls. It was as if he knew exactly where to find it, and knew exactly how much pressure would make you rocket up toward white-hot bliss.

You whimpered against his mouth as the tension in the pit of your stomach wound up tightly. “Changmin—”

“You close, sweetheart? Wanna see how pretty you look when you come.”

His thumb branded your clit with his fingerprint and drove you to insanity. Blood rushed in your ears, head spinning as he helped you over that crest. You cried out as you crashed and the steady pumping of his fingers coaxed you through it. Your fingers dug into the muscle of his shoulders, grounding you as your legs shook and toes curled.

His fingers maintained their steady pace as you came down from the high. You imagined you looked like something of a hot mess beneath him, but when your eyes fluttered up to meet his, you were struck by the tenderness in those dark irises.

When you could breathe evenly, he withdrew his fingers and collected your come to thumb over the pearl beaded at the tip of his cock. “Are you—was that okay?” He asked, his free hand thumbing your cheek. You saw his jaw twitch as he pumped his cock with his other hand, slickened with both of your arousal.

You gave a breathy laugh, and he nearly stopped at the sight of your smile. “Okay? That was—that was more than okay,” you said. “Ji Changmin, come here. Let me kiss you.”

It was something in the way he crushed his mouth against yours this time, one hand cradling the side of your face like you were all he ever wanted—the other coming up to grasp your side—that had your stomach doing flips. And if actions spoke louder than words, you wanted to believe that he was yelling them at you now. If he couldn't bring himself to scream them from the top of a building, this would be enough.

Your nose gently bumped against his. “Can I do something for you?”

He replied lowly between kisses, “Another time. Just… let me do this for you. It'll be enough for me.”

You melted in his hold, as if he didn't make you a fuzzy-chested, dizzy-headed mess all the time.

You felt him nudge your opening, and you locked your hands around his neck. Slowly, you felt a delicious stretch as he pushed into you. Changmin groaned into your neck, the sound making you arch yourself into him further. His voice alone sent you careening toward your own climax, it was so sensual.

Once he sat in you to the hilt, hips locked against hips, he lingered to give you a moment to get comfortable. The girth of him filled you up delectably, the pain only the undertone to pleasure.

He raised his head out of the crook of your neck. “Sweetheart?”

“Yeah—” you nodded, “—I’m good.”

He returned the gesture, biting his lip, then swooping down to kiss you again. “You're doing so well for me,” he murmured. “So warm, so tight. Fuck, you feel divine.”

He pulled himself out slightly, then gave an experimental thrust of his hips. Your hold tightened around him, a moan slipping from your lips. He held you as he continued this motion, a steady and strong rocking of his hips against yours, cock dragging along your walls in confident strokes.

He tucked his head back into your shoulder, lips pressing open mouthed kisses to your hot skin. You could feel the dampness between your thighs dribble down your legs, and you were gradually clambering back onto that hill with your stomach twisting in pleasure.

His labored breathing filled your ear, followed by his mouth—marks lovingly pressed into your flesh and whispered in your ear. You locked a leg around his slim waist and met his thrusts, the pacing quickening slightly as you both began approaching your highs.

Your voice came out choked and desperate. “Changmin, I'm…”

“Yeah, sweetheart; I got you.” Changmin pushed himself back up to hover over you for the last few thrusts, his lips pressed together tightly and sweat dripping down the slope of his nose. He slipped a hand between your bodies again and worked at your nub—and it was all you needed to be pushed over that edge again.

You cried out his name, fingernails burying themselves in his shoulders. You clenched down hard around him, breathing hard and ragged.

You thought you heard him groan out your name as his hips stilled and he came. You exhaled heavily, his body wrapping around yours again while you both caught your breath and descended from bliss.

He left a kiss just below your ear and you cupped the back of his head and shoulders to your body. “Fuck me,” he muttered, rolling your bodies to the side, legs sticky and tangled together.

“Didn't I just do that?” You mused.

He chuckled, moving his head to bump his nose against yours. “Yeah, guess so.” Changmin gazed at you then, eyes searching and searching and searching. You never asked what he was looking for; you always figured he'd one day be able to tell you.

He licked his lips and a crease formed between his brows. “Yn… Yn, I…”

The voice inside his throat remained trapped, the words on his tongue froze. You looked up at him, glassy-eyed and patient, the tilt of your lips so sweet and terribly beautiful. He'd never been at such a loss for words.

You moved forward to press a kiss to his mouth. “I know,” you said. Even if he couldn't say it yet, you always knew.

He swallowed, a moment of silence falling between the two of you. His heart careened against his chest, and he was sure if the amulet he wore now had his blood running through it, the damn thing would pound away like a galloping horse.

He wondered how he got so lucky.

But though he couldn't express it in words, he would always find a different way to reassure you that he felt the same. Changmin leaned forward and wordlessly captured your lips again, rolling you onto your back and pressing every last word he hadn't the guts to say into this searing kiss.

I love you, I adore you. Thank you. Be mine, in life and death; mortally and immortally. Every promise, he would strive to keep.

a/n: at one point, yes, i will write abt sex in his demon form LMAO what did u expect from me 🤣 anyways, this turned out to be around the length of an actual chapter of nt haha

m.list

#the boyz x reader #the boyz smut #ji changmin x reader #changmin x reader #ji changmin smut #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #the boyz fanfic #the boyz drabbles #the boyz oneshot #ji changmin oneshot #ji changmin imagines #ji changmin scenarios #ji changmin drabbles

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bubbles-for-all-of-us · 3 months

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Imagine garrick tavis×reader where the reader gets hurt during a training and garrik is so worried about it and they have a little fight

Right... this is not exactly as the ask but... blood and deaths. That's all.

My terror

He trusted you. Trusted you with parts of his mind that he only granted to Xaden at times. You had been a loyal ally from day one. Sticking around the small group of marked ones even if you weren't a part of them. But you had fought on their side more than once and when Garrick picked you to be his second in command no one dared to question it. It was an obvious pick for the most part even if Bodhi and Xaden hadn't missed a beat at teasing Garrick for it.

"Give it to me", his voice was low and smooth as he stopped right by your side, glancing over the packed training room. You didn't even flinch, used to his quiet presence, a skill to move without a trace. "Pathetic, absolutely pathetic", you sighed with frustration, "I think they will die over their clumsiness". The hand-in-hand combat training had started and Garrick had tasked you with handling it this year.

"Two of them were sent to healers and they haven't even stepped onto the mats", you turned to him, flashing him one of your fake smiles but Garricl saw right through it. "Maybe put off the test for next week", you muttered, "Cause, I can't promise...", "What I see here today doesn't have a direct impact on how I see you", Garrick replied sharply. He knew that you were never one to fish for compliments. You had earned his respect with action not pretty words. "I'm the one...", you started again, "Who's on my right side", Garrick finished and your eyes softened instantly. "And will be taking a leave for the rest of the week. I'll smooth it over. You have nothing to worry about". you frowned at his words, "I don't need a break", "The permanent frown lines between your eyebrows say otherwise", Garrick smirked when your fingers reached up to run over your forehead. Once your eyes met him you nudged him with an arm, shaking your head, "Go back to scowling, Tavis, before Bodhi has another breakdown over you having feelings". Just the funny thing was that he had feelings. All are neatly secluded for you. "That looks like his problem, not mine", he muttered. Letting his eyes linger on you for one more moment before his angry gaze fell back on the room.

It was pathetic that you hadn't been wrong about it. Garrick had questioned how at least half of the group had even made it here. Messy punches. Hunched backs. Knife clattering to the ground. Whimpers. And the maker above kill him even tears. But Garrick hadn't intervened. Standing still in his corner. Arms folded over his chest. If he was being honest he had given up on monitoring the cadets after the second fight. Since then his eyes have been on you.

You were his little terror for a reason. There was always something about the way you handled yourself. How your eyes would flicker. To others, it was nothing but coldness. But Garrick was more than aware of the deterioration and passion that lay behind it all. You both were similar in more than one way. Had learned to read one another. To the point were you didn't even need to say a word. It was clear as it was. And now it was clear that you were loosing your composure. You were tired and suddenly Garrick felt a ting of guilt running through his chest because he had been particularly busy with the revolution and had left most of the wing duties to you. And, yes, you handled them perfectly but you were also a human and one that had reached its limits.

"Again", your voice ripped the silence making Garrick blink. "Pick it up and go again", you pointed to the dagger on the floor. The cadet glared back at you. The guy was bigger than you but nothing you couldn't handle. You handled worse. You knew how to look after yourself. Yet Garrick felt his senses perking up. His demons stirring inside him. Careful, he thought, pick your next move carefully, bud.

"You've gone deaf or something? Pick. It. Up", you kicked the cadet's dagger towards him. The guy's face twisted with anger. You were making a spectacle out of him. Laying out his weaknesses for everyone to see. He thought that you were no doubt playing on your rank. While in reality, it was his fragile pride that shined bright. You were offering others an advantage. If only they had enough brains to realize that.

"You huff and puff but you are worthless. With skills like yours...", you cut off shaking your head as your eyes fell on the rest of the group. "You'll be dead in no time. Cause no one will wait for you to get up on the battlefield. You're down. You're dead". While the rest stood there with their heads bowed or at least with some form of realization in their eyes. The piss poor chap thought he was going to prove his point.

Garrick failed to see it quick enough too. Too enamored by you. Only when the knife was flying towards you did his mind catch up as to what was happening. Right to your left shoulder. For the first time, the aim was perfect. Garrick's insides shrunk, bile raising. He knew he wasn't going to cross the room quick enough. A warning shout was painting his lips when you finally turned back.

Your hand wraps around the blade stopping it in its track. You didn't even flinch. The victory died in the cadet's eyes, replaced by an ashy paleness. "You made a poor choice", you said through gritted teeth as the first drops of red blood ran down your palm. "Do you know what happens to people who make poor choices?", you asked with a smile. Garrick could see the flames that ran though you heating up your skin. The cadet swallowed thickly. "Say hi to Malek from me", Garrick knew the outcome before your words even got the chance to flow through the room. He doubted the cadet even had a chance to hear your last words. Shouts erupted. Screams. A loud thud as a body fell to the floor with a knife planted right in the middle of his neck.

"Dismissed", Garrick's voice cut through the chaos, "All of you out". And where everyone was rushing away from you, Garrick stepped forward. "By any chance forgot about the rule of not killing your squad?", his tone was venomous as he gripped your elbow, turning you away. Your hand was drenched in your blood, the slashes were screaming to be sowed. "I didn't...", you muttered, eyes darting back to the body laying limp. He should have stepped in sooner. He could tell that you were loosing the battle in your head. Garrick caught your chin quickly, "Self-defense, darling. I'm more pissed that you didn't leave him to me. wouldn't have been so merciful". Ripping a piece of his shirt, Garrick wrapped it over your palm in hopes of stopping the bleeding at least somewhat.

"You can't defend me. This may get you killed too", you pushed back, shaking your head. "He struck first. I would have had him in bits by the morning regardless", Garrick breathed out. "You can't...", you started, but he cut in quick, "Can and will. He had an intention to harm what's mine. And you're my terror", A gasp slipped past your lips at his words, "I hate when others think that they can mess with something that's mine". Your fiery eyes looked up at him. You knew what his words entailed. You knew the power of them. Feeling the flames easing at the side of your only source of peace.

"You're with me?", Garrick's tone had become more soft, his eyes truly to gaze through the shields with you. "I've always been with you", you muttered. You saw a flash of something you haven't seen before skimming through his eyes before Garrick nodded. "Clench your palm into a fist for me. Up against your chest and press", it was an order and you knew it. "Can you walk yourself to the healer?", you knew he was referring more to you loosing control then the bleeding even if you could see his jaw tensing at the sight of it. You nodded. Garrick followed suit. "Good", his lips pressed against your temple, "I'll meet you there".

#garrick tavis #garrick tavis x reader #garrick tavis imagine #garrick tavis x oc #garrick tavis x you #garrick tavis fourth grade wing #garrick tavis iron flame #fourth wing imagine #fourth wing x reader #iron flame imagine #iron flame x reader

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beebopboom · 5 months

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Greasy Johnson: a Red Herring?

This is a season 3 speculation post - you know not what to do with them

ok so i’ve fallen down a Greasy Johnson is Jesus rabbit hole and I love it - seems pretty plausible (here are some of of the pieces that sent me down here - Jesus 2.0 rides a Motorcycle Scooter , Greasy Johnson is Jesus, and Greasy Johnson in the book)

To summarize Greasy Johnson is the third baby in the swap who grows up near Adam and has kind of a “rival gang” who in the book is used as the reason why Adam finds a fight between two rivals ridiculous

plus you have the working title for the talked about sequel 668: The Neighbor of the Beast which more than likely is Greasy Johnson house and his thing with tropical fish - just a lot of things pointing to him being Jesus

But!! I want to talk about something a little different (and I can recognize this is probably just my want for Warlock to come back as someone important) because it was a choice not have him mentioned after the swap in the show.

What if Warlock is Jesus? Now just hear me out

If i’m following the swap right Warlock is our baby draped in blue and is the Young’s actual son

Now going back a bit I believe Heaven has been testing out aspects of what is said to happen in the Second Coming for a while now maybe as far back as 1827 but probably got close to right around 1941 and was just waiting for Hell to have the Antichrist and trigger Armageddon

and yknow for being an order of satanic nuns they sure do have a lot of Jesus on the Cross hanging around. why? - it’s almost like the were also meant to deliver him as well

So when Hell pulled their final card - so did Heaven

Now who was not meant to be there that night and messed everything up - the Young’s and their baby, Warlock - it’s almost like it was a divine intervention. And like I said earlier Warlock is our baby draped in blue (like Jesus) and our Ace card (ace up their sleeve anyone?)

Greasy Johnson was apart of Hells plan and set up - Warlock was not

also he has traveled the world because of the Dowling’s work before being tempted by Hastur which he denies

and the whales and dinosaurs we see in his room - you got your mothers humor don’t you?

and he is the only one who has to make a return to the UK - the plane in the opening sequence

what about Greasy Johnson and the neighbor of the beast though? that seems to be a pretty great fit and I agree - he is going to be the reason the swap is discovered and they all get together again - whatever that reason may be (*cough*dying*cough*)

and not mentioning him further in season one allows for him to come in as a completely new character and story that we get to follow around with points in his life pointing towards him being Jesus - as a distraction for the characters and for us

but where does Aziraphale come into this and why does the Metatron need an angel of his talents? - Heaven has also lost its card(baby), the trick worked a little too well and there are still two children to choose between, if they could find them - and Aziraphale, who has shown is apt at finding and identifying the Antichrist and knows Earth better than any angel, is just the being for the job

I recognize this is a lot of speculation and this is just kinda just a crack theory but it wouldn’t leave me alone so I’d thought I’d share

and mostly I think it’d be funny that in thinking they were raising the Antichrist they were actually raising Jesus Christ

(but also it would fit a lot of the headcannons floating around. Jesus being a right terror? check. Them raising Jesus? already did that. Trans!Jesus? remember all those trans!warlock headcannons. Jesus having a mentor relationship with Crowley? the demon raised Warlock. Going out for a drink? Warlock would an adult now by the time season 3 comes out and they keep following that the events in the show are happening at the present time it comes out trend - just on and on)

#good omens #good omens 2 #good omens 3 #good omens speculation #good omens season 3 speculation #aziraphale #crowley #adam young #warlock dowling #greasy johnson #the baby swap #good omens theory #good omens headcanons #good omens meta

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 9 months

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how would angel steve and demon eddie react if they pushed you too far? like maybe they choke you for a little too long, or dont let you up for air when you are on one of their dicks, and your vision starts to go a bit black and you flip out. To be clear, they both would have been pushing you so one cant blame it on the other, so how would they react to the potential loss of trust, even if its just a little?? Thanks!

a/n: this request has been in my inbox for a wild amount of time…

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | devil & angel AU masterlist

“Please don’t, I’m okay,” you tried to catch their hands.

“No, you’re not,” Steve bellowed, tears glistening in his eyes from the haunting look of utter terror you had on your face for but a flash before.

“No, I am,” you protested, trying to break through their panic, “it’s okay, it was an accident, I know.”

With none of your words penetrating their shameful fog, Eddie glanced to the other celestial being as he paced, “maybe if we go back, we can find a way to sever this connection and get her some new ones, someone who’ll just be normal passive guardians…”

Tears instantly spewing from your eyes, you cried, “don’t you dare! I-… please don’t ever say something like that ever again.”

Finding your glossy glance, the demon’s lip quivered, “but Y/n, we hurt you, like really-”

“We should be chastised right where we stand,” Steve added bleakly.

“Shut up, both of you!” your arms gesticulated as you momentarily squeezed your eyes shut, “you are not abandoning me because of this.”

“But we-”

“You are the loves of my life, and you made a mistake,” you cut in, “a mistake, that’s what it was. It wasn’t okay by any means, and it shouldn’t have happened in the first place, but the solution isn’t to run away,” finally seizing their quivering palms, you pleaded, “hold me… tell me that you love me… tell me you’ll do everything in your power not to let something like that happen ever again…”

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ever-eilish · 1 month

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hi! I'd love to see how you'd write chishiya. :)

If you don't have many ideas--maybe a simple scenario where the reader has night terrors and sleeps better with someone. So, she kinda just knocks on Chishiya's door, fully expecting him to dismiss her but he actually agrees.

If you want to turn it into smut, you do you!

Good night

chishiya x fem!reader

when sleepless nights are more common than usual, a very familiar face helps with the terror that comes when the sun goes down

author's notes: so, this is the very first imagine that l post on tumblr! I'm excited to know what you guys think about it :) thank you so much for requesting, I hope this is what you wanted!!! english is not my first language so sorry for any mistakes, enjoy❤️‍🩹

warnings: none! just fluff ;)

Sweat dripped from my forehead and I could feel my heart pounding in my ribcage. Tears were forming in my eyes and my breathing was. heavy. The feeling of exhaustion gnawed at me more and more, but now it was impossible to close my eyes and rest again. Ever since I arrived in this place, I have had dreams - or rather, nightmares - every night. At first, I was able to go back to sleep; but the nightmares are getting worse. What was once just a distant image of all the horrors I've experienced here, are now people screaming and running after me.

"Murderer! Murderer!" They scream as they run towards me, with disfigured faces and bloody bodies.

I can't run, it's almost like my feet betray me and refuse to move. I get up from my bed and walk towards the door. I don't have time to think straight when I stand in front of Chishiya's bedroom door; again feeling betrayed by my own feet.

My relationship with Chishiya is complicated, we don't really like each other. It all started with a stupid game, in which only he and I made it out alive. However, what should be a reason for rapprochement, has become a reason for repulsion.

I don't know exactly why, maybe he just didn't really liked me, but I know that since then we've gone into a strange spiral of competition. In which every time I come back from a game he looks at me with that look of superiority that I hate so much, and acts as if the fact that I survived another game was a surprise; obviously, I do the same to him.

I can't quite figure it out, maybe for a subconscious reason, or maybe because he's the only familiar face on the beach, but now I'm knocking on his door.

I regret my decision the moment I put it into action, after all, it was obvious that he would not open the door.

Or maybe he'd even open the door and when he looked at my face, he'd give another one of his smirks and close the door. Or maybe he would even insult me for waking him up in the middle of the night just because I needed comfort. Maybe I should just go back to my room and spend another sleepless night trapped in my own thoughts. I was going back to my room when I hear the door open.

I turn around again and see the blond-haired man's face staring at me intensely, with a questioning look. An awkward silence ensues as I stare at him wide-eyed.

"I-I..." I can't finish my sentence.

Idiot, idiot, idiot! Why the fuck did I think it would be a good idea to show up at the door of the last person who would want to be woken up by me?

"You...?" he says, raising an eyebrow and looking in my direction. His eyes showed no judgment, but rather pure confusion.

"I had a nightmare, and..." onde again, I was not able to finish my sentence "I'll just go back to my room! Sorry if I bothered you!"

I and turn to go to my room again when I feel a warm hand touch my arm.

Something about that simple touch was different, it was almost as if with just one touch, he could soothe all my demons.

"Come in" he says in an indifferent tone, giving me room to enter his room. With a little hesitation I walk towards the room.

The place smelled of cinnamon, with a slight touch of sweetness. It was organized, and somehow I felt that Chishiya's room was a good representation of his personality; cold and not so cozy, but at that moment, that was all I needed.

"Are you going to stand there, or are you going to lie down?" he says, walking over to his king-size bed in the middle of the room. It was only at that moment that I noticed that he wasn't wearing his usual sweatshirt, but just a black t-shirt and sweatpants of the same a color.

I walk towards his bed and sit on the right side, suddenly feeling that my fingers were much more interesting than staring at the piercing brown eyes that were looking at me curiously.

"I don't bite" he says, again in an indifferent tone, and I look in his direction, noticing that he was now lying on his back "you can lie down, you look tired"

So I do as he says and lie on my back as well, staring at the dull white ceiling. The situation should be uncomfortable, and I should be wishing I could get out of here as soon as possible, but instead, I felt comforted by the warmth emanating from the body of the man lying just inches from me, and I wondered how long it had been since I felt such comfort.

"So, nightmares, right?" he asks and turns his head in my direction

"Yes, I guess"

"And may I know why you chose to come here?" he asks me.

His tone was not accusatory, but curious. What am I supposed to answer, anyway? I'm not even sure what I'm doing here.

"I have no idea" I answer honestly, and hear a faint laugh from my side, still refusing to look into his eyes. The room is silent again and I feel him moving on the bed to turn off a simple lamp with yellowish light arranged on the small table next to him, a lamp that I didn't even notice was on.

Now, with the total darkness, I can't help but feel more comfortable, my eyes heavy. It was suddenly, so suddenly that I almost couldn't believe it, that I felt Chisiya's arm go over my shoulders and pulling me slightly closer; Now, my head is millimeters away from his chest, and his arms are clinging to me, with his hand making small circular motions on my forearm. I don't dare say anything, I just let myself relax, snuggle into his embrace and focus on the circular drawings he made with his fingers on my skin, as I feel my eyes close and my body fall into a much-needed sleep.

Maybe it's the only time l've really been able to sleep well since I've been here.

Little did I know, that this was also the only time Chishiya had been able to sleep well since arriving in this hell.

#fanfic #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #chishiya x reader #write #aib chishiya #chishiya shuntaro #chishiya alice in borderland #chishiya x you #chishiya x y/n #chishiya x fem!reader #chishiya fanfic #nijiro murakami #alice in borderland #alice in boderland x reader

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the-hole-in-terzos-shoe · 7 months

Text

Call Me, Little Sunshine

For my Best Ghestie @mustluvecho 's BIRTHDAY!!!!! Everyone wish her a happy birthday even though I'm posting this hella late in the day! ❤️🎉🎂🎈💝💋🥰

Demon!Papa x GN!Reader

It's a bit Copia coded for my bestie Echo, but could be read as any Papa. Let me know which one you prefer to read it as 😉

TW: abusive boyfriend (mostly verbal, cussing, but he does push Reader at one point, and slam a door), demon stuff, haunting, night terrors, scratches on Reader's body, scary imagery, some light SMUT, MDNI, 18+ ONLY

Word Count: 1.9k

EDIT: I wanted to add my bestie's amazing artwork!!!! She really beautifully captured the vibe I was going for 🥰

Please like and reblog her artworks for this fic here and here!

At first it started small: rapping on the window, a creaky door, faucets emanating a strange sulfuric odor. Typical household problems, you shrugged it off... But now there were other things happening, unexplainable things. The smoky apparition that you'd see out of the corner of your eye, always just out of sight; the claw marks on your back and legs; and the ice cold breath you feel at the back of your neck have you convinced that something is out to get you.

Having just moved in with your boyfriend of only a year, you sit in the kitchen one night unpacking dishes so you wouldn't have to eat off paper plates like you had the last few weeks. Maybe settling into the house would make these crazy illusions go away.

𝘊𝘳𝘢𝘻𝘺. That's what your boyfriend calls all the things you see and feel and hear. But you don't feel crazy, and it feels real when you lie frozen in horror, watching the dark figure with tall golden horns and one glowing white eye stare at you from the foot of your bed. Sometimes it even dares to reach for you, perhaps if only you make your pounding heart jump up to your ears.

You're not sure what this thing is or why it's chosen 𝘺𝘰𝘶 to taunt... or to haunt, you don't really know. But your nights often end with you falling asleep from sheer exhaustion from the terror you feel as this entity makes itself more and more known.

"Fuck, baby, you've gotta get some help. These hallucinations are getting to be a bit too much for you to take, huh?" He says as you sob into your pillow in the early hours of the morning. Little did he know, at least to you, it was no hallucination. That 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 had grabbed your foot, pulling you harshly from your slumber as you flailed and screamed to stay on the bed.

You're snapped out of your thoughts by a plate crashing to the floor at least a meter away from the table where it had been sitting. You jump up and shriek, half from shock, half in frustration.

"Dammit, babe, you can't be such a ditz! We payed a lot of money for you to go around being careless with the dishes," your boyfriend scolds you.

"At least I was trying to unpack," you argue, voice small.

"What was that?" The look on his face turns dark, as he approaches you again.

"I'm- I'm just trying to help," you squeak. Really you felt like it was the least you could do; you'd had a lot of trouble finding a job since moving out here, so you just try to help around the house as much as possible.

"Don't bother!" he shouts, shoving you back against the kitchen counter, "Especially if you're just gonna break shit!"

As you squeeze your eyes shut, cowering away from your boyfriend's outburst, you feel it: the now familiar ice cold breath right next to your ear. A sensation comes over you that almost feels like a hug, protective. Then, loudly, and without warning, all the cabinets in the kitchen burst open as a loud growl rips through the room!

You drop to your knees out of instinct, and the fear-filled tears start to flow. "What the fuck?! You crazy bitch!" your boyfriend cusses at you before storming out of the room. Of course he would blame it on you... A completely unexplainable event, and it's somehow your fault.

Unable to muster the concern to clean the kitchen, you just drag yourself up the stairs, heading to bed early for the night. At least you'll have a long time alone since you know your boyfriend will be up late into the night playing video games and yelling with his friends.

𝘊𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵

𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘐 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶?

Lying there in the darkness save for some moonlight spilling in from outside, you can't help the feeling of guilt that overcomes your mind. 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰 𝘢𝘸𝘧𝘶𝘭 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦? 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘐 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘫𝘰𝘣? 𝘐 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘱𝘪𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘰𝘧𝘧, 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘤𝘢𝘯'𝘵 𝘐 𝘥𝘰 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵? 𝘏𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯'𝘵 𝘢𝘤𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦... 𝘐𝘵 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴.

As you clutch your pillow to your chest, resting on your side in the fetal position, you fight back the tears once again. You can't wrap your head around all this--it seems like your whole world has been turned upside down and you hardly recognize the man you thought you were in love with.

Softly at first, you feel something touch you, like fingers sliding up your side. Automatically, you freeze, unable to fight off this entity that's been bothering you. Next, that hand slides down your thigh. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘥𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵'𝘴 𝘢 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥? It certainly feels like one, five fingertips caressing you almost... sensually?

Climbing back up your thigh, this apparition grips your hip as you hear a sigh just over your shoulder. Then, you feel lips at your ear as claws dig into the flesh of your backside, not hard enough to hurt, but just right. An involuntary whimper leaves you as you feel yourself giving into this demon. You have to be hallucinating, 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘦𝘦𝘭 𝘴𝘰 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥? It feels just like someone pressed up behind you as hands roam your body bringing you--dare you say it?--pleasure.

𝘍𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵

𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘪𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰

Your whole body feels so warm, you could be on fire, but a special kind of heat settles between your legs. Hearing a deep rumble of a moan, you turn your head as much as your muscles will allow, seemingly still frozen to the spot; out of the corner of your eye, you make out the tall golden horns as the figure presses soft kisses to your jaw.

Breathing deeply, he stops, moving to hover above you. In the dark room, you can't see much besides the glimmer of gold metal, the silhouette of his form, a skeletal face, and that glowing white eye. He stares into your eyes, as if asking for permission, and when you continue to stare back, his hand starts to snake down to give you attention where you need it most.

Grunting and grinding your hips up against his fingers, you call out for him, "Papa..." You're not even sure how you know what to call him.

Suddenly, he turns his head as the door creaks open, and in an instant, he's gone, fading away like a fog.

Waking with a gasp, you find you're still on your side cuddling your pillow.

"Hey, it's okay," your boyfriend cooes, "it's just me. Go back to sleep." He comes over and pets your hair as you get your bearings straight.

𝘐𝘵 𝘮𝘶𝘴𝘵'𝘷𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘸𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘥 𝘯𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘳𝘰𝘳...

Your boyfriend climbs in bed, throwing an arm over you and giving you a peck on the forehead, "Goodnight, babe."

𝘏𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘣𝘦 𝘴𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘵 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘪𝘮𝘦𝘴, you think, as he drifts off, and you try to ingore the throbbing at your core.

• • •

The next time this presence--Papa--makes itself known, is when you're entering your room. It's broad daylight outside and all you can make out is a faint gray mist as you're slammed back against the door, the wood rattling loudly in the frame. But before you can freeze up from fright, your eyes flutter closed and a soft sigh leaves your chest as you feel the distinct peppering of kisses across the pulse points of your neck. It's a harsh juxtaposition to the way your boyfriend pushes you around.

Without realizing it, your hands are pinned in place as a haze of lust washes over you, and were it not for the entity bringing you immense and sudden satisfaction, you'd probably be aware of how crazy you look pinned to the door by seemingly nothing.

For the first time, you reach out, allowing yourself a touch. Your fingers are met with a clothed torso. Your run your digits down the buttons on his shirt, stopping at the bottom when his breath hitches as you slip under to tease the skin.

𝘓𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘶𝘱 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘮𝘪𝘥𝘥𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺

𝘍𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘮𝘦?

Slowly opening your eyes, you're finally met with the sight of him. At first, you almost don't recognize him as the figure that's been haunting you every night for months. The striking black and white skull visage is unfamiliar to you, yet the horns and white eye, glowing even in the day time, give it away as him.

"Papa?" You properly meet his eyes for the first time; the left a ghastly pale, and the right a warm golden green. Softly, you brush your fingertips across his cheek, hardly able to believe he's real.

"Yes, my child?" He asks warmly, arms still embracing you.

Without another word, you lean up, pressing your lips softly to his. He returns the sentiment with a kiss so sweet, so seemingly full of emotion, you feel tears prickle at the corners of your eyes. As you sigh into the kiss, he takes the opportunity to slip his tongue between your lips, cupping the back of your head to keep you in place. With him, you know if you wanted to pull away, he would let you--but you don't want to.

And you know you should feel guilty about your boyfriend in the next room, but you don't. He had proven time and time again that 𝘩𝘦 was the real horror in this house. So much so that he'd driven you into the arms of a demon.

You feel safer with some creature from hell than you do with your own boyfriend.

As if (ironically) summoned, here he comes, banging on the door to bitch about something else. "Babe! What are you doing in there? What all that moan-"

*SLAM!*

When he pushed the door open, a sharp burst of wind closes it again. Papa simply chuckles and looks down at you; it must've been him that closed the entryway.

Before you can ask, the door flies open again, doorknob slamming into the wall, "What the fuck was that?!" The man screams, locking eyes with you and then with the eccentric looking individual on your arm, "And 𝘸𝘩𝘰 the fuck is 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵?!?!"

𝘌𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘺

𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘴𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮 𝘪𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺

"Call me Mephistopheles. Or your worst nightmare, whichever you can actually pronounce," Papa speaks up. "Now, get away from her, 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘥, or I 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 make you regret it."

"Oh yeah? What's some loser in a cheap Halloween costume gonna do, huh?" your boyfriend retorts.

Rather than waste another breath on this loser, the demon transforms into, well... a demon: hoofed feet, black claws, fiery eyes, and all. What sounds like a choir of screeching tortured souls rings out, causing you to grimace and clap your hands over your ears.

After what feels like forever but was surely only seconds, the sound ceases, and when you open your eyes, your boyfriend is nowhere to be found.

"Is-is he gone?" Your voice cracks, as your body folds against Papa's chest.

He catches you in another embrace, this time dark ashen black leathery wings cocooning around the two of you. "You won't ever have to worry about him again, amore."

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘢𝘭𝘬 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦.

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trashytoastboi · 1 month

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Hello! Can I request headcanons of Cracker, Katakuri, Usopp, Marco with S/O waking up finding a bug in their bed? This happened with me and my BF and we were freaking out haha

Hi hi! Of course~ Honestly bugs and beds... nope. Don't want any strange bedfellows thank you very much. Sorry for the long wait and hope you enjoy ~

Headcanons: Cracker, Katakuri, Usopp, Marco x S/O – Waking up and finding a bug in their bed

> Gender neutral

Charlotte Cracker

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🍪 Cracker took a long time, detailing his day and laughing at the idiots at World Government, he walked right past the marines and they didn’t even know it’s him. To further his little taunt he stood RIGHT beside his own wanted poster and those idiots never even picked it up. Cracker did this often and boasted of his tales before bed, to his partner who always willingly listened. He enjoyed the attention, how attentively {Name} listened. “Well enough about me-” he cut his own story short upon seeing how sleepy {Name} was.

🍪 He crawled into the obnoxiously large bed, right besides {Name}, doing his usual routine. Surprisingly when he wasn’t boasting about his own achievements, or speaking enthusiastically about his family he could be quite affectionate towards his partner. Maybe it was his pride as a lover, or something of the sort but he had a strange softness to his biscuit coated heart when it came to {Name}. He pulled them closer, pressing a soft kiss to their shoulder. He felt a tickling on his thigh, he chuckled thinking it was {Name’s} hand. Until he realized that unlike him, {Name} wasn’t exactly tall enough, with long enough limbs to reach his thigh the way they were laying. So what was tickling his thigh?

🍪 Cracker decided to ignore it. Surely it was nothing. The prickly, tickling sensation kept moving. Squirming, he could not ignore it. It stopped for a moment and {Name} shrieked at the sudden feeling and practically launched themselves from the bed, entrusting Cracker to find the culprit. He scoffed at seeing their terror, when he lifted the blanket. A monstrosity, some hundred legged demon wriggled and wreathed all over the bed. It set its sights for Cracker and aggressively squiggles towards him, Cracker would tell everyone it was his partner who shrieked high enough to crack glass, but it was him. He discovered he'd rather face an admiral instead of a centipede.

🍪Cracker unleashed the full force of his devil fruit, making sure there was no possible way for this foul creature to survive. Sure {Name} was scared and grossed out but the extent Cracker went to seemed like overkill. Even after all of that, practically decimating his entire room…He noticed it again. Nonchalantly marching along as if nothing ever happened, the centipede was alive and well, its presence tormented Cracker. Eventually {Name} worked up the courage to approach it, trap it in a container and toss it out the window while it sailed on the wind until probably landing safely somewhere to strike fear to everyone else.

🍪 Cracker was exhausted. He refused to go to sleep in his room, not until enough time has passed and he was double- no triple sure that it was clean and free of insects..He felt itchy and thought about how long the centipede tickled against him. One thing he can say for certain is he now knows that he has a fear of centipedes. Well any creature with more than four legs already raises his danger bells, this was just the epitome of it. What’s worse, it was a giant centipede! It’s unnatural how it could even get that big.

Charlotte Katakuri

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🍩 Katakuri is very soft, and finds he really enjoys the nights when he can sleep next to his partner. Their presence is so warm and comforting, evoking the same kind of fluffy and comforting feelings as his tea time. Katakuri rarely expressed this but you could easily tell, he acted noticeably softer and more gentle during these times when his heart felt at ease. With one of the most comfortable beds to ever be created and his partner, what more could he need for a restful night. He had prepared a small plate of snacks, something light to go with a late night beverage, he relaxed with {Name} sharing snacks and talking about the day.

🍩 After that Katakuri so naturally snuggled against {Name} well seeing that he is as tall as he is, {Name} was designated the role of little spoon every time. Once they tried to be the big spoon but they made Katakuri burst out in laughter. Everything seemed peaceful, although it was warm so Katakuri opened a window in the hopes of a pleasant breeze to come drifting through. Although the breeze was not the only thing that came drifting into the room.

🍩 Maybe the slightest hum of wings was not enough to alert them. Not even when it got louder, and closer. Until Katakuri felt something tap against his cheek. He thought nothing of it, until it moved. He casually brushed it off and it fell to the bed and made its way towards {Name}, the slightest tickle of an antenna gave them an itch. Although they didn’t expect to feel something when they went to scratch what was tickling them. They went to have a look, maybe they left something on the bed earlier? They spotted some odd creature. A scorpion? The silhouette seemed to match, but they had never heard of a scorpion that had an antenna? It started flying and {Name} shrieked to high heaven - Not a scorpion.

🍩 Katakuri could see {Name} panicking, being chased by some very tiny thing that had them running for their life. So nonchalantly asked them what the problem was. In their panic Katakuri heard {Name} complaining about ‘it’ crawling into their ears and tickling their brains. The idea actually sounded quite disgusting even by his standards. He easily captured it in a mochi cage and threw it outside to ease his partner’s concerns. Katakuri didn’t even see it for that long but the sheer terror that it evoked in his partner was strange. {Name} described in great detail about earwigs and all the horrific old wives tales that exist about them.

🍩 After hearing the tale about how they’ll crawl into your ears and lay eggs Katakuri started sleeping with earbuds in to prevent such. He brushed it off saying that he’s not affected but {Name} knew otherwise, plus Katakuri no longer opens the windows. So there’s something to suggest that maybe he’s not as unaffected as he makes himself out to be.

Usopp

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🏹 Ussop said goodnight to all of his lovely little plants, making sure everything was ready for tomorrow and he kept telling {Name} that he’d be there in a few minutes. In the meantime, {Name} prepped the bed making sure it was all comfortable and ready to turn in for the night. They knew Usopp could get stuck with his plants for hours, talking to them, tending to them and deciding they’d turn in before him. They got comfy and were in a half asleep state.

🏹 They’d just managed to lightly fall asleep, they felt the weight shift and the bed dip when Ussop climbed inside. He was talking to himself about the to-do list for tomorrow to remind himself of everything he wanted to attend to. He climbed under the blanket humming to {Name} with some random lullaby. {Name} shifted closer out of habit and all was well until something very evidently came crawling on the bed. {Name} could faintly make out the silhouette of the thing coming closer, closer, - it wasn’t big enough to have significant weight but they could see the blanket move underneath it so clearly it was big enough to do that. They silently watched as it got closer before being unable to take it anymore.

🏹 {Name} didn’t know what it was but they flailed, and flung themselves all over the bed to get away from it. Usopp obviously woke up from all the panicking wondering what had his partner so riled up and perturbed. When Usopp lifted the blanket to catch the culprit it revealed a spider. Eight legs, walking along like nothing could go wrong. Usopp chuckled and scooped the spider onto his hand “Don’t worry this little guy won't hurt you.” He reassures {Name} while admiring how pretty the little fellow looked. {Name} was terrified, reassured and surprised to see Usopp so unphased while he let the spider run around his hand and arm.

🏹 Usopp moved the spider to a container and he took it outside, while {Name} just remained inside, confused and too scared to look in the bed. Maybe they should just sleep elsewhere; they wracked their brain until they heard Usopp return. He fixed the bed and invited them to lay beside him. {Name} asked if there were any more bugs, evidently afraid to return. Usopp reassured them that it was just that little guy. {Name} told Usopp just how surprised they were to see him handling that with no issue ever, he’s never found bugs scary and rather on the cute side.

🏹 {Name} was too scared on their side of the bed and scooted closer and closer until they were practically sleeping on top of Usopp. Not that he minded all that much, he thought them being afraid of a little spider was adorable. They protested that they’re cute until they bite, Usopp couldn't really argue with that but explained he’s never been bitten.

Marco

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🍍 Marco quite enjoyed his midday naps, granted if everything was quiet enough to permiss that. He even roped {Name} into joining him and it almost became routine when they would disappear for an hour or two to just rest and recharge before getting back to the grind. He didn’t even bother opening the bed and threw a soft blanket on top instead, without checking it. Had he checked things might have been different for the two of them. He plopped down and awaited {Name} wondering why they were so late.

🍍 {Name} arrived to find a very half asleep Marco who greeted them with a sleepy tune and an interrupting yawn. They walked over and plopped over, smiling as they saw Marco’s resting face. The moment felt so serene and peaceful, warm and comfortable. {Name} wished it would last forever until they felt some hard, cold thing MOVING next to them. A slight hissing sound arose and they froze, a snake is easy no big deal. But this didn’t feel like a snake. It was smaller, still sizable and more rigid.

🍍 “Marco-” {Name} called softly, trying not to move, “Marco!” They called a little louder, before reaching up and shaking him. Marco woke up, flustered “What’s wrong? Enemies? Marines?” he searched around, when {Name} shuffled closer to him “There’s something behind me…Take it away please” Marco was confused but noticed the genuine fear that lingered in their expression. He came closer and reached behind them, to feel something. For a moment relief washed over him, it was probably a random item. He thought that until it moved in his hand and Marco threw whatever he was holding across the room with a muffled shriek.

🍍 Marco and {Name} skedaddled to the polar opposite side of the room and looked for any sign of movement and there it was. Red, brown and black amalgamated onto a palm sized insect. An intimidating and shrill hiss escaped the creature, Marco did the only rational thing. He took {Name} and left the room before burning it, the flames would leave nothing behind. After watching everything turning into ash, Marco seemed relieved. Until he saw something JUMPING at him through the ashes.

🍍 They shut the door and Marco called for someone who was better at dealing with such things than he was. To his surprise it was easy to find someone…Enthusiastic about bugs amongst the eccentric crew. They were excited while ‘admiring’ the fine specimen which they identified as a parktown prawn. Marco didn’t care what kind of creature it was but more to the fact that his whole room had been overturned by its existence.

#one piece #trashytoastboi #charlotte cracker #katakuri #usopp #marco the phoenix #fluff #sfw #one piece imagines #one piece headcanons #gender neutral reader #gender neutral pronouns #one piece headcanon #cracker x reader #katakuri x reader #one piece usopp #usopp x reader #marco x reader

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lesbian-in-leather · 3 months

Text

Let's Talk About Alastor

Hazbin Hotel is rotting my brain so it's time for me to ramble about it to no one in particular!! Obviously this post will contain a whole multitude of spoilers, so please don't look under the cut unless you're fine with that/have seen the full season

As I mentioned in the tags of this post, I have SO MANY THOUGHTS about our beloved Radio Demon, especially in regards to the finale and how I think his plot could go next series, so buckle up folks, this'll be a long one

First off, let's talk about the way he fights. When he's fighting anyone, Alastor is big, and showy, and fucking deadly. We see it time and time again—he has fun when he fights, he enjoys the carnage and, most importantly, the terror he elicits from his foes. And that's why he was tasked with dealing with Adam—he's insanely powerful, and if anyone can take down the head of the exorcists, it would have to be Alastor (because obviously they didn't know Lucifer would show up to help, and Charlie hasn't fully come into her power yet, but that's another post). And he knows it! He knows he's powerful, he knows he's deadly, he knows everyone is shit-scared of him, and that's what he relies on.

And then the finale happens. He's in that final battle, and he's actually put to the test. And in terms of sheer power, for once in his afterlife he isn't the strongest in the room. He's actually outmatched, or at least on an even footing. And if he'd fought like everyone else, then maybe he would have succeeded—if he'd taken Carmilla's advice, I have no doubt that he would have won, or at least held Adam off for long enough that the others could have come and helped him. But he never stood a chance. Because he fights like an angel, and that's why he loses to one. Look at Carmilla's conversation with Vaggie:

"You leave yourself open with every swing; you fight like someone unafraid of harm" "Angels wield no shield, little armour, and fight with reckless abandon"

Remind you of anyone? Rewatch Alastor's fight with Adam—he's fighting just like he always does. He has multiple opportunities to take him out, but, like always, he chooses to play with his food. He's enjoying himself, he's riling Adam up, dancing around him, taunting him. Because at no point does he consider that he could lose this fight—he has no armour, no shield, he didn't even bring an angelic weapon! He just has his trusty radio mic (the source of his power? Perhaps... but that's a discussion for another post) that Adam breaks. And the genuine fear in his eyes, in his voice when that happens? He has no idea what to do. He never even considered this could happen. Everyone else is fighting for their lives, but he was treating this war like simple sport... until suddenly he couldn't.

And speaking of motivation, once again we can look to Carmilla's song to see why he loses when the other, objectively less powerful souls (Husk, Angel, Cherri, hell, even Nifty) succeeded. Yes, they weren't against Adam, but they were still fighting exorcists—you know, the same angels that have been decimating hell's population unchallenged for literal centuries. But they didn't die. Because they were fighting for what they truly believed in, because they had a real reason to not only fight, but to live. I saw it mentioned in this post earlier, and they make such a good point! Charlie's fighting for her dream and for her people; Vaggie's fighting for Charlie; Lucifer for his daughter; Angel, Husk, Pentious and Cherri are all fighting for their friends (something Charlie gave them, btw, but again, that's a different post). But what's Alastor fighting for? Power? Fun? To prove a goddamn point? I think he loses because even he doesn't really know why he's fighting. I mean, listen to Out For Love and tell me it doesn't apply to Alastor just as much as Vaggie:

"I see you're driven by your detestation Your every step is stoked with animus You need a different type of motivation Or there's no way that you can handle this I know you're thirstin' for vengeance, Vaggie You're out for blood But you'll only stand a chance if you're out for love"

Which would bring me onto where I think his plot will go in future seasons (should we get them), but first we need to clear a couple of things up and try to understand his character as best we can. Now here's the thing, I know a lot of people are divided on the topic of Alastor's feelings. Some people say he genuinely cares about the others, while some say he's just putting up a façade and playing the game, and that all of the supposed evidence of his feelings are actually manufactured manipulations. But I think both readings are true, and also, neither of them are.

Because I think Alastor does care about the others, to an extent. But I also think he refuses to acknowledge it, to recognise that part of himself, that he's buried those feelings so deep he doesn't even know that they can exist within him anymore. I think whoever holds his leash (Lilith? The seven year gap is a little too convenient to ignore, but at the same time, now that we know where she is, what's her motivation? Anyway, another post) pushed him towards the hotel for their own purposes, but I also don't think they're particularly checking up on him. I think his mission is to do with Charlie, but I also think he's grown genuinely attached to her over the months they've known each other. Why do I think this? I'm glad you asked!

First off, let's examine his reactions in various key moments throughout the series so far:

This first shot is the most annoyed we see him for the entirety of the song Should Have Stayed Gone, despite singing with one of his (many?) self-proclaimed rivals, Vox. Now yes, he does look moderately peeved, but I would argue that it's much less to do with Vox, and much more to do with the focus on television and his constant fear of irrelevancy (more on that later in this post). Then look at his expressions later—

Now he's enjoying himself, he has that ever-present shit-eating grin we all know and love. And, most crucially, no one else can see his expressions during this song. No one's looking at him in the first pic, and for the rest of the song he's in his radio booth, so it's safe to assume that his expressions are far less guarded than when he knows he's being observed. Why is that important? Well, let's take a look at another Alastor-heavy episode, shall we? That's right, no Alastor analysis would be complete without a delve into Dead Beat Dad, so here we go!

Right off the bat, we're shown his dislike of Lucifer. I know some people say it was all for show, but I disagree. Hear me out—Alastor's smart, no one's arguing otherwise, so why make an enemy of the literal devil just for sport? Now, let me be clear—I don't think he actually sees Charlie as a daughter-figure (at least, not consciously, and certainly not as strongly as he was making out). The thing is, he is good at reading people, and all it took was one look at Lucifer can't-wait-to-break-the-door-down Morningstar for him to realise that Charlie's affection was what mattered the most to him. However, his hatred of Lucifer was not all for show. So why did he hate him? The fact that he hadn't heard of him certainly won't have helped (again, Alastor definitely has a whole complex, we'll get to that), but his loathing started before Lucifer had even spoken to him. How do I know? Take a look at the moment when Lucifer has literally just opened the door

Look at that eye twitch. No one's looking at him. No one can see it. But the sheer, unbridled rage is so evident that he can't quite keep it from his face. And all Lucifer has done is hug his daughter. Now, assuming the two have never interacted before (Lucifer certainly doesn't seem to remember him, and Alastor doesn't act as though they've met) what reason does Alastor have to hate him? If Lilith is his master, perhaps it's on her behalf? But he doesn't seem particularly loyal to whoever holds his leash, far from it, so that leaves us with the two most logical options: either Lucifer is the one holding his leash (not impossible, but I wouldn't say it has much evidence thus far), or Alastor is genuinely opposed to him because of how he's treated Charlie. Because he does care about her, however little he'll admit it to himself.

Just to really hammer this point home, I'd like to show just some of the many other instances of Alastor being genuinely furious with Lucifer over the course of this episode—in fact, seeing as we've already talked about Should Have Stayed Gone, let's constrain ourselves to Hell's Greatest Dad for now, shall we?

All Lucifer has to do is laugh at the start of this song, and just look at Alastor's face! That's anger, or at the very least intense annoyance—with ever-smiling-Alastor, the proof is always in the eyebrows. Then we get this wonderful sequence of expressions while Lucifer begins insulting him:

Oh, and just in case you need a comparison, here's a shot of Lucifer insulting Alastor side-by-side with two different instance of Vox insulting Alastor. And some people still think Vox is his rival and he was just messing with Lucifer?

Now you may say, "Ah, but that's not a fair comparison! Alastor was clearly winning his argument with Vox, whereas he and Lucifer were on a much more even footing!" to which I would reply yes! Exactly! That's why Vox isn't anywhere close to being Alastor's rival, and also at least part of the reason Alastor cared so much when fighting with Lucifer. If winning against Lucifer was as easy as Vox, of course he'd pick that fight. But it wasn't. At the start of Hell's Greatest Dad, he's getting straight up humiliated (as those four waiter-esque pics demonstrate). And yet, he keeps fighting. Partially for pride, I'm sure, but some part of him absolutely cares about the argument he's making.

How do I know that? Well, you see, first of all we take a look at how Alastor acts when he first starts singing. As we all know, Alastor's power lies in his voice—his face was made for radio—and he's (almost) always so much more in control when he's talking, and always in control if his radio filter is in place. In fact, the stronger it is, the more he appears to be taking charge. So, when he first begins to fight back against Lucifer, he immediately puts that Cheshire-Cat-esque façade back into place, quite literally dancing around Lucifer as he does so:

And yet, his energy is so much higher than normal. He's leaping around, his usually calculated movements suddenly far more erratic and energetic than we've seen him. For example, in his first verse alone, he goes though all of this:

Not only is he using far more power, he's become so showy, his expressions are so much more unhinged than even he usually is, his pupils are near-constantly slitted, and, most importantly, take a look at his colour palette. Right at the very start it's still his classic red and black, but then—without Lucifer even interrupting—he gets so invested in convincing Charlie (and, by extension, proving himself better than Lucifer) that he switches to what I have dubbed his Powerful Palette. It only ever happens when he's demonstrating his full abilities; when he's angry at Husk, when he's fighting Adam, when he makes a new deal, and... now. Arguing with Lucifer over who's a better father to Charlie. And while usually it's in brief flashes before he returns to normal, here he stays consistently in his greens and pinks, for a good majority of the song. You don't think that means he really cares, even just a little bit?

And when Lucifer has the gall to interrupt him with his golden fiddle, and just look at Alastor then;

Look at his face, look at his posture. Alastor, notorious for waving his arms around in grand, swooping gestures, is standing there, gritting his fucking teeth, fists clenched, arms folded at what must be an uncomfortable angle. The only time he moves is to concede a tiny step so he can drop a fucking piano on the literal devil.

Now this bit is so interesting, because he, very briefly, seems to believe that he's won, or is at least winning. And even then, he doesn't relax, he doesn't return to his normal colour palette or even his normal expression. He's still furious, you can see it—with Vox, it was a game. This is personal, and then when Lucifer is actually not only fine but still fighting, now playing a new instrument, (literally playing the devil's chord) to deliberately ruin Alastor's melody? Oh that's pure rage.

This first expression is his immediate reaction to it and, perhaps even better, the other two are him trying to contain it. Because he knows he can be seen, but he physically can't look any more collected than that; he can't control his expressions during this song. If he could, he would, because it would irritate Lucifer all the more, and he's more than smart enough to realise that. But neither of them can control themselves here, because both of them really, genuinely, care.

Then he physically places himself in between Charlie and her father, not only pushing him out of the way, but then going so far as to physically drop him out of frame with a gesture reminiscent of a Roman Emperor as he reinstates his claim over Charlie—again, feeding into his need to be relevant and powerful (we're getting to that part, I promise). But isn't it interesting that this time, he didn't even use his power? He pushed Lucifer with his bare hands, not bothering with the intimidating shadows or powerplays, because for once it wasn't about that. For once he wasn't focusing on the person he was fighting, but on the person he was fighting for.

Now this exchange is so interesting. Because Alastor misses a really good opportunity to get Charlie on his side, and I think he misses it purely because he (almost certainly without realising it) gets actually, genuinely offended on behalf of his friends. Because when Lucifer calls the others losers, he's insulting Charlie's family. Knowingly and callously! Right in front of them! And if Alastor was in his right mind, he would have absolutely pointed it out with a fake gasp and a shit-eating grin. But look at the way he reacts to Lucifer's interruption—the narrowed eyes, the tensing of his shoulders, the flexed wrists and clenched hands. That's genuine anger; it's too immediate and out of character to be anything else. Because he didn't intentionally goad Lucifer into saying that. And instead of taking advantage of the opportunity, he responds by, very childishly, asking Lucifer to "butt out" of his song. Because they were Charlie's family first, and he may feign indifference, but he included himself among them for a goddamn reason, and how dare Lucifer insult them like that?

And again, compare how he's moving and standing to how he was in Should Have Stayed Gone. In this gif (and Hell's Greatest Dad as a whole, but let's focus on this bit right now) he's glaring, his shoulders are hunched—he tries for his usual nonchalance by pushing Lucifer out of frame with a swing of his hips, but then is immediately betrayed by his expression, and his reaction the second Lucifer comes back at him. Meanwhile, in Should Have Stayed Gone, this is how he acts while taunting Vox:

He's so much more relaxed, he's visibly having fun, and Vox is the one bending himself out of shape to try and get Alastor's attention win the argument. Another interesting parallel between him and Vox in these numbers is when Vox is clearly losing towards the end of his part in Should Have Stayed Gone, compared to Alastor's first verse in Hell's Greatest Dad.

I mean, these frames are just a little too similar, don't you think? Both of them desperately trying to grab the attention of the subject of the song, duplicating themselves and leaning over the borders to try and be noticed... oh Alastor.

And now, finally, we get onto the bit that I've been promising for this entire post: Alastor's inferiority complex. The thing is, I think I've worked him out (at least, to an extent). We've seen time and again that he hates the idea of being irrelevant—the fact he doesn't like any technology beyond radio (leading to the real reason for his annoyance in that very first picture I used, when he sees everyone gathered around Vox's screens); his reaction when Carmine said she had not in fact, been wondering where he was; his reaction when Lucifer says he's never heard of him; the way he rushes to "remind people why he's here" at the end of Dead Beat Dad, and the fact that when he first arrived he took out all of the overlords who dared to dismiss his power, just to name a few. His fatal flaw is clearly pride—he wants people to know him, he needs to be relevant or he doesn't know who he is.

And I think that's the real reason he hates Lucifer. Because, father-figure or not, the two of them do represent the same position in Charlie's life. But why would she need help from a human soul (albeit an insanely powerful one) when she has a literal angel around to do whatever she wants? Yes, Alastor is powerful, but if Lucifer is back in the picture... well, we all saw it in the finale. Alastor was quite literally fighting for his life, and barely escaped with it, while Lucifer was dancing circles around Adam, shapeshifting, taunting, joking, and all the while he was periodically rescuing Charlie too. His attention wasn't even entirely focused on the battle, and he wasn't even really trying to hurt Adam until the end when shit got personal.

And I also think that's why Alastor got so scared. Because he almost died. As I said right at the start, he fought like an angel. He didn't even consider getting hurt as an option. And now he's having a crisi of mortality, and being powerful and scared is a dangerous combination. So where will his story go from here?

Well, from the fact that he's still at the hotel, I think that's evidence enough that he's being forced to stay with Charlie—despite all the very real evidence we have that he does genuinely care about her (I mean, they way he talks about shaping her to Rosie? The gentle looks, the fact he loaned her his mic? Don't forget how he looked when that got broken, it's clearly so important to him, and he gave it to her twice. Not to mention the whole 'wanting to be relevant in her life' thing that I've been going on about for like, half of this post. Remember what Rosie said about words being easy, but actions are hard? Yeah, he says he doesn't care, but... anyway). So, he's being forced to stay while he looks for an out in his contract with someone. But where does that leave him in the wider story? Well, I do think he'll eventually turn on Charlie and the rest of the gang, but I also think that it'll be temporary. Assuming the crew gets as many seasons as they want to tell the full story (never a guarantee, but here's to hoping) then I think he'll probably stay for a while next season but work against them behind the scenes, then make an open move against them, then be gone for a while, then start his long and arduous journey back into everyone's good graces.

Obviously his deal with Charlie will come into play, and I think he'll probably use it as leverage to get out of his deal. "I'll make Charlie do what you want—without hurting her, or making her hurt anyone else—and I get to be free from this bullshit" kinda thing. I also think it'll be very interesting when that happens, because I have a theory on what he meant by the deal having "clipped his wings"—I don't think he can take anyone's soul anymore. Think about it; we've only seen him even attempt two deals this season, and not even once has he attempted to add a soul to his supposedly ever-growing collection. It would certainly clip an overlord's wings to not be able to amass any more underlings—especially since it seems that the more souls someone owns, the more powerful they are, not just in terms of owning other people, but in actual, tangible power. So I think he'll eventually get out of his deal, and then he'll be free and he'll go utterly off the rails... for a while. But it won't be as fun anymore. Husk and Nifty will have been forced to turn against their friends, and Alastor won't care what they think, because why would he?

Except suddenly he does. Husk's silences suddenly feel a lot more pointed, and Nifty refuses to even look at him, and suddenly he feels something he hasn't felt in a very long time, or perhaps he's never felt it at all. He feels guilt. Regret. He wants friends again, because they were loud and annoying and they didn't respect him but... he'll realise that his affection for them wasn't all for show, not even by half. Because he almost died for them. And even when he's talking about it, scoffing at his own perceived weakness... he calls them his friends.

And that's when the real fun will begin, because the Radio Demon On A Mission will be a force to behold, and god help anyone who gets in his way, because once he figures out the love he's fighting for... oh, he'll be unstoppable.

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ruhorih4ra · 3 months

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Hello! (⁠•⁠ө⁠•⁠)⁠♡ I hate clichés, I really do. I write clichés 😔, I do.

Part 14!

Get out of my way 🌈

The kiss was broken by numerous sounds of footsteps and anxious voices from outside the room, you had let Mammon go before the door flung open. A group of hopeless and frightened demons stared at you before surrounding you like hungry mosquitoes. “Mc! We need your help!” Asmo cupped your face with a trembling and sweaty hand. “It’s Levi, he’s dying-” Belphie couldn’t finish before a very stoic Beelzebub interrupted him. “He’s not. He’s fine, he just needs to warm up.”

“He’s dying, Beel.” Satan’s eyes were red, he opened and closed his fist with desperation. “Simeon’s magic is useless!” He screamed. From the corner of your eye, you saw how Mammon lost color, he obviously wasn’t aware of his brother’s condition.

Despite all the screams and pleas, nothing spoke louder than Lucifer’s eyes, he was carrying Leviathan in his arms, when your eyes met, you saw fear and frustration. Those eyes told you everything you needed to know, but nothing would have prepared you to see Leviathan. The demon was paler than usual, his lips were chapped and a faint shade of purple instead of their pink healthy one. “Levi!” You rushed towards him.

Lucifer gently laid him down on the couch. “Mc, please, maybe the pact can help him.” You heard Lucifer but your eyes didn’t leave Levi’s lips, you were sure he was calling your name. “It will, definitely.” Barbatos put a hand on your shoulder. “I’m sure of it. Even so, you should waste no time, Mc.”

You nodded, a little bit disoriented due to the sudden change of things. You took his hand in yours and it surprised you how cold it was, how devoid of any warmth. “Levi, it’s me, Mc.” You murmured, touching his forehead with your other hand, brushing his hair away. “I’ll help you, everything’s going to be okay.”

Your hand rested on Levi’s cheek as you recited the spell. “May the vestiges of pain that linger within the demon before me be eliminated." You felt a sudden flash of white illuminate Leviathan’s body but then nothing happened, Levi was as cold as before. You couldn’t help but remember Levi’s sewn mouth and how no matter what you did, it couldn’t be cured. “No, no, no.” You said frantically, embracing Levi as you laid down on the couch too. “May the vestiges of pain that linger within the demon before me be eliminated." You repeated and the light appeared again, but Levi remained the same. You would have lost your mind then and there if not for Lucifer who took your hand and looked at your eyes. “Don’t’ panic, love. Levi’s counting on you.”

You saw the fear again, desperation and utter pain in those crimson eyes. You could even hear his pleas: “Not again, please.” Terror filled your body as you finally realized what all of this meant, Levi’s life was falling apart in your hands and no one but you could prevent it. The fear of losing him was nauseating, devastating. You swallowed and murmured in his ear. “I love you, Levi. Please, don’t die in my arms.” As you kindly kissed his temples, you cast the healing spell once more. “May the vestiges of pain that linger within the demon before me be eliminated."

This time, the white light stayed on for a couple of seconds more before fading out. You took the hands of Leviathan and kissed them, a pair of tears slipping down your expectant eyes. Suddenly, you saw Leviathan’s chest rising and falling at a normal, healthy pace and the color finally returning to his face. “Mc?” He mumbled, opening his eyes as if he had just woken up from a long nap. “Levi!!” You hugged him, not a second later you felt another pair of arms hugging you both, and then more and more until all seven brothers were sharing a big and well needed hug. “Uh?! W-what’s happening?!” Levi said, his voice muffled by everyone’s embrace. You could only laugh in delight.

Diavolo and Simeon exhaled in relief while Barbatos smiled gently at them. Simeon wanted to ask a few things to the butler and judging by the way Barbatos had looked at him the entire time, it was safe to assume that he had a couple of questions too.

When the hug broke and everybody stepped back, you scooped Leviathan’s face in your hands. “I’m so sorry for everything I said.” Your voice broke at the end, you closed your eyes and the tears fell. “N-no, it’s okay, Mc. Please, don’t cry.” Levi took your hand and smiled, it was a friendly and warm smile that only increased your guilt and sadness. “W-wait! Don’t cry more! Ahhh, I’m so bad at this! I knew it, a good for nothing yucky ota-” Before he could finish, you gently kissed the right corner of his lips, a sense of relief when you felt no stitches or scarred lips. Although he hadn’t fully recovered, the light in his eyes was enough to lift your spirits.

“Hey!! Not only because he was dying it means that you can ki-!!” Mammon’s sentence was left unfinished due to a good smack on the head courtesy of Asmodeus.

“You’re nothing of those awful things, please don’t ever think that, not even if it’s me saying them.” You kissed the left corner then. “I have no excuses for my words or the way I acted, please believe me, I would never hurt you.” You choked back a sob, lifting your face to meet Leviathan’s eyes and found out that he was… bleeding.

“Typical Levi.” Satan said and Beelphegor hummed in agreement. “Your nose.” You said, watching a single drop of blood slide down to Leviathan’s lip, his face was redder than ever before and he was avoiding your eyes. “Ah! Y-yes, d-don’t worry, Mc. I know you would never hurt me.” He stuttered but then, his eyes became serious and you felt a slight squeeze on your hand. “I have to apologize too. I’m sorry, Mc. I didn’t realize sooner that you needed me. I should’ve known, you’re my Henry.”

If posible, Levi got more nervious than before. “If you want to, maybe we can talk about this... just the two of us.”

“Oh! We’re sorry, Are we interrupting you?” Belphie rolled his eyes. “Yes, maybe we should just leave, Levi, so your nose can bleed at ease.” Satan added. “You shouldn’t bleed too much Levi, you’re still weak.” Beelzebub said, worry evident in his tone. “I won’t leave them alone!” Mammon shouted and Asmodeus replied with the same amount of pettiness. “Alone as you both were a few moments ago??”

Lucifer sighed before joining them, giving Levi a handkerchief (you could swear he had to suppress the urge to wipe the blood himself). “You should just shut up, Mammon.” “Oi!”

You were contentedly watching them until Leviathan took you out of it, talking to you in murmurs. “Mc, thanks for saving me.” He took your chin, you didn’t miss the fierce blush that crept to his face as he gave you a quick kiss on the lips. “You saved me from drowning.” You blushed and smiled back. “Thanks to you, my lord of shadow.”

“Very well, I think we can all agree that both Levi and Mc need to get some rest.” Lord Diavolo said and a chorus of disagreement burst through the room. “Quiet all of you, Diavolo is right. Mc will stay here for today.” Before they could express their arguments again, you intervened.

“Where is Sc?” You blurted out, a question that had been plaguing your mind for a while. You haven’t seen her since your fight with Lucifer, and it was starting to freak you out. “Did she leave?”

“… because of me?!” You wanted to ask, but it remained unsaid as Lucifer and Diavolo looked at each other in surprise. While Lucifer seemed annoyed, Diavolo looked completely amused.

“Oh! She’s sneaky!” Diavolo said and Lucifer shook his head. “Not for long, no.”

You had no idea what they meant by that, your question was ignored but you deduced that SC was still in the Devildom. Lucifer sighed and looked at Mammon, an order resting in his eyes. “Me?! B-but why?!” “Go, now. You wanted to be the one in charge of her, didn’t you?” Mammon growled, but walked towards you to give you a quick kiss on the forehead. “I’ll come back later.” He and Leviathan exchanged grimaces as he left but you noticed the quick check he did of his younger brother, the relief in his eyes too.

Lucifer softly patted Leviathan’s shoulder. “Let’s go, Levi. You need to rest.” When Levi stood up he was surprised to find himself in Lucifer’s arms. The older brother had hugged him, letting him go just to frown in concern. “It’s fine, Lucifer. I feel good, I promise.”

You felt tenderness as you saw the cute scene unfolding in front of you. “Lucifer.” You wanted to reassure him that everything was okay and remind him that he should rest too but he avoided you. “We’ll leave now, Mc. Please, rest too.” Lucifer kissed your forehead too, his eyes looked tired.

“Wait, Lucifer. There is something I have to tell you.” Lucifer looked troubled and if you didn’t know him better, you’d say he seemed fearful. Diavolo took the hint, discreetly taking everyone but Lucifer away, leaving only you and the firstborn in the room. “You should relax, we can talk later.”

“Is it true, Lilith? Did they hurt our brothers?” The voice of the Little demon of pride echoed in your head, and you wondered how long it would be until the real Lucifer pronounce those words. “Not later, it has to be now.” You concluded.

Part 16?ರ⁠_⁠ರ

Taglist: @yuumaofc @kodasstar @sadlily1 @asmolover1234 @gallantys @prefesro @urminebutidontwantyou @fiveofspades @owl778 @unknownbish101 @pinkvelvetcake1 @bontensbabygirl @exrellian @kaiserkisser @cutestpatoootie

#obey me #obey me fanfic #obey me mc #obey me fandom #obey me gn!reader #obey me lucifer #obey me angst #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me comfort #obey me hurt/comfort #obey me barbatos #obey me belphegor #Obey me asmodeus #Obey me Diavolo #obey me simeon

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devilfic · 1 year

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❝right place, right time❞

II. of niceties and awkward second meetings.

parts: previously / next plot: bruce makes an offer you actually can refuse... at first. pairing: battinson!bruce wayne x gn!reader. cw: surgeon!reader, secret identities, slow burn, bruce wayne is still a masochist, bruce wayne is ALSO reckless :). words: 3.5k. edited: 2/28/24.

After every surgery—good or not so good—when you’re rinsing off and getting patted on the back for a job well done, you elect to feel hope. And then you hurry to lock yourself in your office and try to catch your breath.

The weight of a life on your hands follows you from room to room, from work to bed, from daydreams to night terrors. Even when it’s good, it rarely ever feels good. Questions bloat your brain: what if there’s something you missed? What if, despite it all, it’s not enough? Is the blood on your hands, then? Is the life yours to save or the patient’s to endure?

There was no solid answer. All you could do was wait for full recovery and try not to let it consume you.

Maybe tonight was a night for Thai. Maybe you’d call up your old roommates and get together at your place. Maybe you could finally tell them about the night Batman broke into your house, and how you stitched up his bullet wound, and then fell asleep 20 feet away because you had to meet Bruce fucking Wayne the very next morning and God help you if you embarrassed your boss by being late. So far, the only person who’d heard about it was the old lady who lived in the apartment below you, and all she’d done is pray for you.

You’d assured her you were fine, but she’d insisted on anointing your doors and windows before you left for work. The “demon of Gotham” she’d called him, herald of vengeance. The fact that you’d saved his life meant that you’d be spared in the reckoning... or whatever little old ladies learned in Sunday school.

Whatever she believed, you had no reason to think you’d be struck by lightning twice. Batman would not be returning to your home any time soon.

The thought almost made you sad.

There was no reason for him to return. Batman probably had a team of doctors waiting to tend to him if his arsenal of weaponry was any indicator of wealth. He wasn’t just any ol’ run of the mill vigilante, that was for certain.

You were just a blip. A freak accident. A glitch in the matrix. The chance that you’d been in the right place at the right time when Batman needed you most was just that: chance. And you were no gambler, but you could bet on your license that that man would never darken your doorstep (or window sill) again.

Maybe you’d stop by the liquor store too on your way home.

You’re rounding the corner when you collide with your boss, frantic as usual.

“Oh! Finally, there you are,” he grips your upper arms like a vice, eyes frenzied as they look you over, “why do you look like that?”

You imagine he’s referencing the dew of sweat on your skin and your scrubs out of whack. “I finished an operation fifteen minutes ago.” You answer, unimpressed. “I was just heading back to my office.”

Your attempt to sidestep him—to free yourself of the shackles that were his hands—proves useless. He spins to keep you in his grip, “You can’t! Not yet.”

“Why not?”

“You have a visitor.”

You frown, “A patient? No one’s on my schedule.”

“I’d like you to make an exception for this one.” His voice drops to a whisper. He readjusts your shirt sleeves as if dressing you up, prettying you for the highest bidder, and that sets you on edge, “Just trust me.”

You almost (almost) flinch away when he pushes you to your office door—now, a looming boulder instead of a gateway to your safe haven. Before you can even ask just who is waiting for you on the other side, your boss is rushing off down the hallway to do God knows what.

As if disarming a bomb, you slowly open the door to peek inside.

It scares the both of you, clearly, if the wide-eyed look he gives you says anything.

It’s like it hasn’t been a week since you’d last seen him. Bruce Wayne is wearing what looks like the same suit he’d worn last time, tie and collar stiff, jacket open underneath his billowy coat. But he looks awkward standing in your modest little office. He looks like he’s not supposed to be here, or at least not without his right hand man and the fanfare to follow.

He keeps his hands in front of him to show you he means no harm, “Your boss said it was okay to wait here for you.”

You’re still bracing yourself against the door, trying to figure out what he could possibly be doing in your office, what he’d possibly be waiting around for you for.

You think about the last time you’d seen him, when you’d grabbed him out of nowhere and his companion (Alfred, was it?) looked like he would have no problem breaking your spine if you dared manhandle him again. Oh God, he wasn’t going to sue, was he?

You swallow, “Uh, right. Can I help you?”

Bruce straightens up. His hands fall to his sides. You search his face to predict his next move but you’re puzzled to find that he’s just as clueless as you.

You didn’t know much about Bruce Wayne, that much had been established. What little you did know was some amorphous figure of nobility, the “prince of Gotham” as the press dubbed him.

Yet, standing before you in your simple little office, Bruce Wayne feels less like nobility and more like a stranger in foreign land. He keeps his hands in front of him and you’re able to make out purple dusting his knuckles. Bruised. Not bloody. Not recently. This piques your interest.

“How long have you been a surgeon?” Is his first question.

You slink into the room and debate on shutting the door, deciding to leave it open a crack; whether it is so you can escape or for him to feel unwelcome, you’re not entirely sure. “Four years. Not including the 12 years of school and residency.”

Bruce perks up just a tad to your bewilderment. “Did you study here in Gotham?”

“I did. I considered Metropolis.”

“What changed your mind?”

“Cheaper tuition.”

“Do you like it here in Gotham?”

“I don’t mean to be rude, Mr. Wayne,” your voice comes out clipped—nervous—all the same, “I just got out of a surgery and I didn’t even know you’d be here so I haven’t got the faintest clue what you want-”

“I’m sorry.” Bruce apologizes, “I can come back another time.”

Come back? You assess his face once more, double checking for any sign of where this conversation is going, “Come back for what?”

For the first time since you entered the room, Bruce takes a step forward. A few, actually, ‘til he’s standing only a foot away and his whole deer-in-headlights deal is on full display. “A proposition.” Your head swims with big ideas. You’re thankful you’re still standing still. “I’d like to hire you.”

If Em could see you, she’d be laughing her head off at the look on your face. The emotions you're hit with are akin to blunt force trauma.

Bruce catches onto your distress and begins to explain, glancing away from your eyes to give you room to breathe, “Due to the nature of my job and the... events that transpired last November, I’m careful about my position in the public eye. I’ve decided to have a doctor on call, someone I can rely on in the event that something drastic happens again. It would be more menial work, but you would, of course, be greatly compensated: full benefits, triple your salary here. Nothing is out of the question.”

As the last word melts in the air, he finally locks eyes with you. Less deer-in-headlights now, more spotlight. More "I eagerly await your response".

You couldn’t even fathom the price point: triple your salary? You already made good money here, any more would be excessive. And then there’s the reality of the situation. You would be employed, solely, by Bruce Wayne. At his beck and call—perhaps moved into a nicer place within chauffeur distance of Wayne Tower—the support staff of the upper echelon.

Your mom wouldn’t bug you about moving out of Gotham ever again.

This all felt too good to be true. So good that your intuitive pendulum swung violently in warning. Bruce awaits your reply, wringing his hands before him and those glaring purple knuckles catch your attention again. How a CEO had managed those was a question you hesitated to entertain. Something else was going on here.

You knew Gotham was a corrupt city. It festered with crime in every aspect, that much the Riddler had made clear last Halloween. The late mayor, the DA, the police commissioner... and amongst his targets, Bruce Wayne had survived. Something else was definitely going on here.

“...I serve the public, Mr. Wayne. I reserve my skill for the citizens of Gotham without the... ability to seek better. I’m flattered you would consider me and I would be more than happy to point one of my talented colleagues your way in my stead. But I’m sorry, I can’t accept your offer.”

Bruce’s face falls for just a second. After all, if he were to wear his emotions on his face all the time, you doubted he’d be much of a successful businessman.

You’re thankful that he takes a step out of your personal space and doesn’t fuss, doesn’t try to shove a wad of cash at you, doesn’t throw more offers at you until you concede. “I appreciate your consideration, but that won’t be necessary. I should let you return to your work. Thank you for your time.”

You nod a little dumbly, the weight of what has just transpired starting to settle fully on you. Em would be far too angry at you to laugh, now.

With the grace of his pedigree, Bruce Wayne nods silently to you and leaves.

You notice once the muscles in your shoulders stop shaking that there’s something in your office that wasn’t there before. There, on the loveseat where Bruce Wayne had waited for you, was a business card.

You shakily approach the seat and collapse beside it, reaching out to read what adorns the back of the Wayne Enterprises logo.

Bruce Wayne CEO P: 212-XXX-XXXX

It takes the clatter of ceramic to pull you out of your reverie.

Beside you, Em hovers, “And here I thought you weren’t a fan.”

At the puzzled look you give her, Em jerks her head toward where your eyes had been focusing, mindlessly stirring in the events of the afternoon. At some point, the TV’s channel had changed from Days of our Lives to the Gotham News. They were running a story on a charity event downtown. Bruce Wayne was shaking hands on camera, the tagline “Bruce Wayne makes dazzling appearance alongside controversial mayor”. How fitting.

“‘m not,” you grumble, pushing your lunch around in yellowed Tupperware, “just thinking.”

“About?”

You glance at Em. Too little too late, your boss had clambered into your office shortly after Bruce left, pestering you about the conversation you’d had, disappointed when you’d told him you’d turned down the offer. “Imagine the press we’d get, one of our very own working for the CEO of Wayne Enterprises,” he’d argued, “you’ve got to reconsider.”

You hesitated to tell your tale again, fearful that you’d suffer the same reaction, but Em was not your boss. She would never let the topic rest. And it wasn’t like you signed an NDA, a truth that had only hit you hours after the fact, “I got a job offer today.”

Em’s eyebrows shoot up, “From West Mercy? Arkham?”

The very thought of working in Arkham Asylum had you abandoning your lunch altogether, “God, no. It was more like... on-demand. Concierge. A very rich patient wanted to hire me as their private doctor.”

“Wow... was it one of your patients?”

“No, I’ve never examined him in my life.”

“Him?” You recognized that tone of voice. A slew of questions were on the way if you didn’t elaborate fast enough.

Besides yourself and Em huddled in a corner, the break room was relatively empty. One of the ER nurses was napping, another engrossed in a game of Sudoku on their phone. You doubted they would hear even if you raised your voice above a whisper.

Quietly, because you clam up at the thought of saying his name out loud, you fish out his business card and slide it across the table to her.

It takes her but a moment to process. First a deep inhale, then her hand slaps the table (the Sudoku nurse glances up at you both and then changes his mind), then she’s gripping at your scrubs and shaking you violently in your chair, “Shut the front door! Please tell me you said yes!”

You frown, “No, I didn’t.”

“Why the hell not? I know you don’t keep up with the times in this city, but this guy is loaded!”

“I do keep up with the times. I just don’t give a rat’s ass about Bruce Wayne. A crime punishable by death, apparently.”

“But why in the world would you want to keep working here when you could be... having lunch on a terrace? Discussing lab results over Pinot Grigio? Jetting off to the Bahamas to check his vitals on vacation?”

You snort, “Exactly what I told him: I serve the public. I’d like to keep it that way.”

“Could always do both.”

You tried to imagine it, for Em’s sake. The terrace lunches, the Pinot Grigio. You imagined the nice apartment from before and the esteem that your boss was sure you could bring the hospital.

And you imagined Bruce Wayne, with a limp. With bruised knuckles. Always looking at you with those big eyes that somehow told you everything and nothing at the same time. Like an open book in a dead language. You thought about the night that Wayne Tower caught fire and the world that had been crumbling down in Gotham had started to feel truly broken. Politicians die all the time, but the uber rich? Even you had watched the sky in horror.

And now that same man had asked you—you, of all people—to be there in case there was a next time.

You thought about the Batman. Would you say yes if he asked you the exact same question?

You hadn’t considered both.

You’re unaware that Em is leaving until her chair scoots loudly across the laminate, “Think on it. Seriously. It’s the opportunity of a lifetime.” Her hand brushes your shoulder fleetingly. Then she’s leaving and you’re left to think again.

It was a bit ironic that his next visit took place as you were perusing apartment listings.

You hadn't seen him get inside your home the first time. He’d just been there, as if he’d always been there and you just never noticed. This time, he doesn’t have the urgency to break in. He waits at your window… staring in at you. No knocking. Not even a muffled “Can I come in?”

You don’t know how he expects anyone to invite him inside their home with those kinds of manners. You set your laptop aside and walk over to the curtains, his figure becoming clearer, more menacing as eyes silently follow you. By the time you reach the window, your heart is beating at an unhealthy pace. You had been able to get that adrenaline down before. How did you manage that again?

Batman waits patiently. Your hand presses to the glass, the warmth of it leaving behind a visible print as you push up on the glass, “Don’t tell me,” his head cocks to the side as you begin, “another bullet?”

If he is suffering from a wound like the last, he doesn’t look it. He’s crouched on your fire escape with his cape billowing behind him and the light of your apartment giving off just enough of an ominous glow.

After last time, you’d sneaked some extra supplies back to your place under the paranoia that something might happen again. And, let’s be honest, no one would raise a brow at having everything you need to clean a gunshot wound in this city. You couldn’t say it was entirely just for him, though.

The silence goes on uncomfortably long. You start to wonder if he even heard you, the way he stares you down, unmoving. He resembles a stray caught stealing from a trashcan, seconds from sprinting in the opposite direction to avoid being caught.

Eventually, your heartbeat spikes again. What had he told you last time? To run if someone tried to break in? Maybe he had wanted you to sprint the second you saw a human looming on your fire escape, regardless of their vague bat shape. Was he angry? He kind of always looked angry.

“Have you noticed anyone following you?” His question causes just the briefest alarm.

Living on the not-greatest side of Gotham, you had learned how to keep your head down but your eyes everywhere. If some mugger were looking to jump you as you got out of your car, you’d know. You shake your head, palms beginning to sweat.

Batman assesses you for a bit longer. You can’t tell if he’s reading you for a lie or if his instincts are just telling him otherwise, but eventually, he accepts your answer.

And begins to leave.

“Wait,” you stutter out against your better judgement, when he’s already stood to his full height, one boot positioned on the railing to propel himself below. He looks over his shoulder at you very slowly, “how’s your... side? Wound heal okay?

He looks down to where you’d stitched him, where his armor had been mended. “It’s better.”

You sigh, relieved. “You’ve gotten it looked at, then.”

“Someone looked at it.”

His wording gives you pause. “What about your stitches? Did you get them redone?” He hesitates. “You... did get them redone, right? Better. Preferably by someone who wasn’t worried about you dying on their living room floor.” Your skin prickles when you see his guilty look. “Batman, if you’ve been fighting crime every night for the past week with the same stitches I put in you days ago-”

“I’ve been through worse.”

“So you keep saying.” You really don’t mean to grit your teeth at him, practically stomping your foot because you’d, at the very least, expected him to be a bit smart about a bullet wound.

But, then again, you were talking to a man dressed as a bat.

You crawl out onto the fire escape, chilly and biting and unforgiving as the night may be, and watch Batman turn halfway toward you. You have to resist the urge to brush your hand against his side, an act far too intimate with Kevlar in the way. You look up at him, “Don’t suppose you’d let me take another look at it?”

The first time, sure, he let you because he was close to dying. With a motto of “I’ve been through worse” at his disposal, you doubted he would let you do it again unless the circumstances were dire.

Sure enough, he moves defensively away from you. You take heart in that it seems less like he distrusts you and more like he’s got a bravado issue. Not great, but better. Easier to fix.

You think of the medical supplies in your apartment and wonder if you’ve got what it takes to coax him inside. “I thought that you might not come again. Guy like you fighting crime every night must have people on hand for stuff like this, right? You’re not just any vigilante. Couldn’t be.” His unsettling glare makes the cold seep into you just a little bit more, “You don’t. Do you?”

He doesn’t answer you. His eyes shift from yours to the cityscape. Looking for a way out, maybe.

But if he wanted to leave, he would leave. Why would he hesitate?

“I just want to look. Make sure it’s not infected. No poking or prodding, I promise.”

“It’s not. I had someone look at it.”

“A doctor?”

“...No.”

“Someone who knows what they’re looking at, at least?”

He looks down at you. There’s something there that he’s keeping close to his chest, too much information for a stranger (even one who’s saved his life). You wait to see what his decision will be. “You work at Gotham General.” Batman states, matter-of-factly.

“...I know you were bleeding to death when I told you, but you’ve got to keep up in this city.” You see a hint of a smile on his mouth that is just as easily written off as a scowl. “What about it?”

Again, that look.

Just as you’re certain that you’re about to break through to something, a siren goes off in the distance. Sure enough, when the both of you look to the sky, his emblem is carved out in the clouds, beckoning him down to the streets once more. Your heart sinks. You were so close.

Batman waits a beat, positioning himself on the railing again. His eyes find yours over his shoulder, cape fluttering with the promise of taking flight, “They’re lucky to have you.”

He leaves. It feels even colder when he does.

taglist: @yikes-buddy @alexxavicry @moonlightreader649 @maryx0107 @vainillasmil157

#bruce wayne x reader #bruce wayne scenarios #bruce wayne imagine #bruce wayne fic #bruce wayne #batman x reader #batman scenarios #batman imagine #batman fic #the batman #battinson x reader #battinson #dc #mjwrites

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allforone-appreciation · 2 months

Note

A Look Into All For One's Daily Routine (PRE-potato)

7:00 AM - Rise and shine, for the world trembles at the mere thought of my awakening. 7:10 AM - Morning cuddles and kisses with my precious wife, Inko and indirectly praising her for surviving another night beside the most feared villain-turned-family-man. 7:45 AM – Wake my baby son up, then have a villainous breakfast, consisting of coffee, eggs, waffles, and a side of intimidation. 8:15 AM - Conduct a nefarious board meeting to discuss evil plans for the day. Check on my ‘side businesses’ and make sure I’m ‘making’ money. 9:00 AM - Meet with underworld contacts. Expand my influence and power. Remind them who’s boss. 10:00 AM - Time for some "me" time. Attend an appointment with my personal tailor to ensure my villainous attire strikes fear into the hearts of heroes. A scheduled manicure is included every Wednesday. 10:45AM - Wreak minor havoc upon the city. A villain's work is never done and sometimes the blond idiot stops by. It's all about balance, you see. 12:00 PM - Lunch break: Consume the souls of those who dare oppose me. Wine and steak are the usual. Depends on my mood. 12:30 PM: While I’m having lunch, I usually log into my social media and contribute to All Might hate pages. The villain subreddit is my go-to. Update my Demon King fanfiction while I’m at it. (This entry is completely satire) 1:00 PM - Plotting session: Strategize with Tomura on how to conquer the world then make Kurogiri do all the work and babysit him. 2:30 PM - Business calls. Time to collect those debts and remind people why they shouldn't cross me. A few well-placed threats should do the trick. 3:00 PM - Pick up some "unfortunate souls" from the streets. Gotta keep the operation running smoothly. While I’m at it, I’ll supervise the training of Tomura and young villains-in-training. 4:30 PM - Time to head home. Can't wait to see Inko and my beloved son, Izu-baby. 6:00 PM - Dinner with the family. Nothing beats Inko's cooking, except maybe her smile. 7:00 PM - Quality time with Izuku: Help him with his homework, impart wisdom about the ways of the world, and play hero-villain with him. 9:00 PM - Bedtime routine and tuck my cute son into bed. Goodnight, little one. Daddy's gonna (hopefully) kill All Might tomorrow. 9:30 PM - Quality time with Inko. Sometimes the best evil plots are hatched ‘between the sheets’. 11:00 PM - Prepare for bed: Ensure all evil plans are in motion for the following day and that my reign of terror will continue unabated. Sometimes a book about totalitarianism and tyranny with a glass a wine is included. 11:30 PM – Time for a goodnight sleep. I need my beauty sleep to maintain this dashing appearance. Tomorrow, the world will tremble at my might once again.

Note: Schedule subject to change depending on hero interference, unforeseen villainous schemes, 'business trips' and holidays/weekends.

Please tell me what you think I had so much fun making this 😂😂😂😂😂 I might make a POST-potato schedule. I love this man so much can you tell.

😂 I'm laughing because honestly this very much seems like his schedule. Doing both evil stuff while also being dad for one at the same time is how he rolls. Like awww he loves his famil- Wait he picking up ORPHANS AND PLANNING PEOPLE DEMISE?

LOL, I need more of a Day in the Life of a Demon Lord. Because this is great also seems Inko gets quite a bit of attention at night. Though we can already see he definitely not going to see All Might coming when he comes with a Detroit smash.

But man I love how casual he is about his appearance and his affection for his family being quite wholesome. While also still doing evil things, you anon get it.

#afo fanfics #All for One MHA #All for One #All for One BNHA #Dad For One #It may not be conventional but it definitely a fan and fictional scenario I love~#afo confessions #Founder: Yoly

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k2ntoss · 3 months

Note

so i was about to fall asleep but then i started thinking about constantine's sidekick!reader again and just imagining a little scenario where they and jason are having a little tiff or something after some kind of mission...like they're both running on adrenaline and maybe a little manic cuz one of them almost got really hurt or something, and then just at one point reader gets tired off the back and forth and just uses their magic to pull jason over by his collar and kisses him to shut him up? and jason just melts immediately?? mmmmmm god i seriously cant stop thinking about this man

-🦊 (thank you for indulging my brain rot every day, it makes me smile sm every time i see your thoughts and additions to my lil ideas😙)

YA GIRL IS FUCKING BAAAACK i do have news but lets leave them for another moment, now i'm here to be amazed by your ideas that feed the little beast inside my head, chef kiss, michelin star kinda shit

it's been years since you started by john's side, it all ending in you learning a few (almost all) of his traits, a mini me and an obnoxious sorceress is what most people would call you, but a caring person nonetheless and that's something you also got from your mentor. john constantine was a drunk silly man, a jerk but he took you in like his kid, he took care of you and protected the only stream of light that his life had.

all of that made easier for you to notice when someone cared for you, making jason's anger melt your heart right now even if you've been pestering him all the way round. the aftermath of this mission was a ton of adrenaline, a big nasty wound on your side and both of you covered in disgusting hellish goo.

some dumb criminal decided that summoning demons was a good idea to terrorize gotham, as if the city didn't had enough demons already. when jason and you attended that particular call you never thought you would end up hurt but how could you not after pestering a demon, all cocky and smug around it before it all ended up in a few more inferior demons attacking you but hey, you managed yourself.

"for once, learn to keep your smart mouth shut or you'll get yourself killed" jason starts, he's towering over you and his arms are crossed on his chest "you're always testing your goddamn luck and look where it got you"

"dick always runs his mouth when he's fighting, it's funny, jay" you smirk, the mention of his older brother makes him shake his head and sigh heavily "it's not that bad, mom" but a sudden pinch of pain makes you grunt when your hand brushes the wound.

"yeah, not that bad" jason is probably a bit more angry when you laugh softly "mind telling me why are you laughing?"

"it's nothing, mommy hen" you shrug before leaning into a wall under his gaze, you can see jason is worried but once again would it be you if you didn't teased the guy a little? "it's hard to think when we're both covered in sticky goo" and even if the comment is meant to tease him, jason looks at you unamused.

"it's not gonna work for you, let me see your side" he speaks while walking closer, jason takes his gloves off and tugs them into one of the pockets of his tactical cargo pants "you have no spell or shit to heal this so we'll do this my way"

"not gonna happen, mr. hood" and jason stops, taking off his helmet too to let you see his stern expression and it's enough to let you know you've gotten under his skin "you expect me to undress here? just like that? no foreplay?"

"i'm being serious, y/n" there it is, jason's voice turns lower and you know he is indeed worried.

a soft sigh escapes your lips, using the resting energy on your body to use your telekinesis and it's hard because jason is good on resisting magic but when it comes to you he almost always let's you get away with it. his body is pulled closer to yours, his body sliding all the way towards you and when he's right in front of you it's your hand the one that tugs him from the collar of his shirt before your lips collide with his in a chaste kiss.

there's a small smile on your lips because he melts into your touch, kissing you back with one of his hands on your waist and the other one cupping your face.

"is it always this easy to shut you up?"

#luv letters!#jason todd my pretty little boy #jason todd imagine #jason todd fluff #jason todd x reader #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x you #jason todd x gn!reader #mentor!john constantine #red hood imagine #jason todd blurb #red hood fluff #red hood #jason todd #dc comics

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writemywaytoyourheart · 1 year

Text

Bedeviled | Chapter 9: The Higher the Wall...

Pairing: demon!jungkook x female reader

Genre: E2L, romance, drama, angst, horror

WC: 4.5k

Warnings for this chapter: strong language, anxiety, brief mention of blood and injuries, cruelty, frightening depictions of Hell and things in it, terror, fear, name-calling, summoning of a demon (don't be dumb), TENSION🥴, i think that's all if there's anything i missed pls kindly let me know

Previous ML

JK's eyes shift back and forth on the ground as he walks, one rock catching his attention before another steals it away a second later.

You're following silently behind him, have been for the past few minutes as he leads you to the foot of the mountain just ahead.

When you look up, you see a door in the mountain that you hadn't noticed there a while ago. The closer you get the easier it becomes to see. It's a bit trippy, so you don't look at it for very long.

Not a minute later, you're both standing silently in front of it, neither of you making a move to open it.

The door is made of splintery wood and looks extremely old; a rusted knob practically hanging on with all its strength at this point.

"Is there some kind of trick or is it just a door?" You ask, a hint of jest in your tone.

This time, when he doesn't answer, you realize that it's not out of annoyance or spite, but the fact that he's staring so intently at nothing that he didn't even hear you.

He suddenly snaps out of it and looks at you, "Did you say something?"

You point at the door, "Can I just open it?"

The demon looks where you're pointing, "Oh...Oh, yeah, it's just a door."

You both stand there for a second, once again no one making a move to reach for the handle.

He looks at you again and you stare back.

"Why aren't you opening it?" He finally snaps.

"Why aren't you?" You counter.

"Because I'm not your fucking butler."

"Well I don't trust you."

"Well maybe you should start learning to trust me a little-"

You laugh, "On what grounds? All you do is continue to provide evidence on why I shouldn't trust you."

The stare down lasts another few seconds, then you sigh and walk over to the door.

"You're not a butler but you're sure as heck a princess," you mutter, grabbing the handle.

He's about to snap back with an equally clever comeback, but the next moment makes the words die in his throat.

JK jumps out of his skin when you suddenly shriek and start convulsing like you're being electrocuted, hand frozen on the handle.

Without thinking, he reaches over to grab your hand and pull it off the doorknob.

You start laughing, no longer playing up the dramatics.

He steps back and looks at you, confusion furrowing his brows, his hand still wrapped around your wrist.

"Got you," You cackle, watching the rage seep into his features as he realizes your joke.

"Idiot," he shoves your hand away from him as you laugh.

"The look on your face was priceless!" You hunch over from laughter as he stands there and stares at you, far from amused and equally confused and disgusted at the enigma in front of him.

"Whatever, human," he scoffs in disgust and opens the door, not bothering to hold it open for you as he walks in and lets go of the handle.

You slip in quickly before it shuts, "You know it's kind of rude to call me that."

"What?"

"You always call me 'human' or 'mortal' and it's quite offensive. Those certainly aren't my name."

He stops and looks at you.

You glance around the tunnel you just walked into, noticing a deep reddish orange glow filling the space. The rock walls themselves seem to shine with a fiery light from the inside out.

When you look back at him you see annoyance written all over his face.

"Ok, what's your name then?" He says slowly, hip cocking to the side as he puts a hand there and stares at you.

"Oh, that's even more rude. How can a demon ask for someone's name so casually? You really have no manners, do you?" You stare back at him, face completely serious even as he doesn't say a word.

JK grits his teeth, then pulls his bottom lip into his mouth and gnaws on it while he analyzes your face.

"What should I call you then?" His voice remains calm even as the irritation builds.

"Mmm, good question. Anything works, just don't be so rude," you swat dismissively.

"You truly are a piece of fucking work," He grits out.

You start walking ahead without acknowledging his comment, turning around to look back at him for a second to see if he's coming.

The demon doesn't move as he stares at you.

Tangled hair frames your exhausted face, bruises decorating your neck and continuing down your arms and legs, clothes nearly in tatters, and your feet still wrapped in strips of cloth that are so caked with mud and old dried blood that it can't possibly be comfortable.

That's not what catches his attention though.

It's the smile on your face as you meet his eyes.

"You coming?" You ask when he doesn't move for a full thirty seconds.

You can see him physically snap out of whatever trance he was in. He blinks, then his permanent look of disgust returns and he shoulders past you and snaps, "There are a lot of things I could call you. You're lucky I haven't decided to use those."

Stumbling when he shoves you to the side to get through, you bump into the wall.

A gasp of pain leaves you when you feel a burn on the arm that hit the rock.

"Ah," You hiss, automatically grabbing nearing the injury.

He stops and turns to see you wincing as you look at a small welt that's appeared on your forearm.

"What is it this time?" He growls.

You look at him and he's suddenly hyper aware of the fact that your previous smile is now completely gone.

He doesn't care.

"You pushed me into the wall."

"No, I didn't."

"You did."

"You're the one that can't even keep your fucking balance, stop trying to blame me for you being a klutz!"

The look on your face at his words makes him groan internally.

You are going to make it your mission to bitch and moan the entire time now, aren't you?

He can't have that.

Can barely stand you when you're not complaining.

You flinch when he walks up to you, trying to pull away when he snatches your wrist.

"Don't-"

"Stop moving, damn it!"

You stop, shaking a little as you watch him.

Your trembling doesn't go unnoticed by him, but he does nothing to make you feel less afraid, just brushes his hand over the welt.

Watching in mounting confusion, you see the nasty burn disappear as his hand passes over it, there one second and gone the next. Then he lets go of your wrist and your arm falls to your side.

"Why did you..."

He waits for you to finish your sentence.

When you don't say anything more, he raises a brow, and you see his gaze drift over you. Then he steps closer, his eyes falling to your lips.

"You know, you've got such pretty little lips for every word out of them being bitchy. Looking at them, I don't mind. Listening to you whine and moan? Not so much."

He steps even closer, raising his eyes to your own now, "At least, not unless I'm the reason behind them."

JK smirks at the blush that creeps into your cheeks, "If it means you won't complain anymore, I can heal the rest of you, you know. I can make you feel a lot better than you do now."

The way he says it and the feeling of his hand sliding onto your hip makes it clear he means much more than just healing some cuts and bruises.

Something you are not about to fall into.

Deciding to play along though, you move closer, hands coming up and resting on his chest.

You try to ignore the incessant beating of your heart.

Two can play at this game.

"Really?" You whisper and stand up on your tiptoes to get your lips even closer to his.

His eyes dart back and forth between yours.

You let yourself stay there for exactly five seconds before a small laugh slips out and you shove his chest, moving him away from you.

"Mm, I've got more important things to do, demon. I'm flattered by the offer, really. Very sweet of you. But I think I'll pass, sorry."

A breathy chuckle of disbelief escapes him as he turns to look at you walking down the tunnel quickly.

Did you really just turn him down?

And act like you'd be doing him a favor if you agreed?

The feeling that bubbles up in his chest is something he hasn't felt since that one time Sav took more than half of his souls for the month. That was a very very very long time ago.

He vowed he wouldn't let anyone humiliate him again.

Now this stupid little human girl comes marching into Hell and decides it's a good idea to do just that?

Not on his watch.

He storms past you, shoulder bumping yours, "You couldn't handle it anyway, klutz."

You raise a brow as you watch him stalk ahead.

Did you really just hurt his fragile ego that bad because you turned down his offer to sleep with him?

Biting back a smile, you shake your head and follow him.

Your move, JK.

_____________________________

The further into the mountain you go, the hotter it gets.

A while ago you started to hear the screams.

You shoved your hands over your ears, but as per usual, it's hardly done any good.

With every step, it feels like you're getting closer and closer to something horrible beyond comprehension, to something so horrific that even just being in the same mountain as it is making you physically ill, and you haven't even seen it yet.

When he stops abruptly, you do so also, watching him carefully.

He turns around, "You walk straight through, do not stop. Don't linger or you will regret it. Do you understand?"

You nod and his eyes narrow at you.

"I'm serious. Don't fuck this up."

"I won't," You say firmly, balling your fists up to help you focus.

His eyes drift over your determined face; cheeks chubby and dirty as your mouth is set in a straight line, brows furrowed in concentration.

You shift on your feet in what seems to be an anxious tic.

A dark chuckle slips from his lips.

"Alright then. Be brave, little klutz," He whispers teasingly before turning and continuing down the tunnel.

You march after him, steeling your nerves as you beg yourself not to look at anything but his back. You do not want to know what horrors are waiting around the corner.

The first moment stepping into the huge corridor is terrifying.

Your eyes are glued to him, but you can hear the piercing shrieks coming from all around you.

In your peripherals, you can tell that the walls are engulfed in flames.

Do not look.

As you walk down the never-ending hall, the screams get louder and angrier.

Screams of blasphemy reach you whenever you pass and they see you.

Unable to listen to it much longer, you reach your hands up and plug your ears, trying to drown out the disgusting words thrown your way.

The ones aimed at Him.

You won't stand to listen to it.

JK is suddenly way ahead of you.

You don't remember him picking up the pace.

Hurrying forward, you unconsciously unplug your ears and grab onto the back of his shirt, keeping yourself close against him in fear of getting left behind in this place.

You still won't look.

Eyes pinched shut, you shove your face into him, body trembling from the sheer noise of the tortured souls burning.

The second you grabbed him, he had stopped in confusion.

After a moment though he realizes what you're doing and smirks, ready to use this against you.

You feel cold hands touch your arms and detach you from his back, pulling you more until you're in front of him.

You keep your eyes shut tight, but your arms reach out blindly trying to grab onto him again.

"Please," you choke out in a gasp, "Please don't leave me behind."

You feel his hands take your arms firmly. At the simple gesture, something inside of you shatters, he sees your face crumple and suddenly you're crying.

And you can't stop.

The enraged screams build; profanities being hurled at you from every direction. Telling you to open your eyes. Telling you to witness what your King did to them.

To watch them burn alive in their own tombs of fire and torture.

"Get me out," You plead desperately as you feel like your eyes are about to open against your own will, "Please! Please, I don't wanna look! Get me out!"

You're clinging to him, begging him to get you away from here.

It's what he's been waiting for all this time.

Is this what finally broke you?

He stares at you, watching as you start to curl into him, fists bunched in his shirt and shaking him, screaming at him to help you. To please help you.

He does not care about you.

He should feel a rush of pride, of relief, of satisfaction at seeing how completely at his mercy you are. He should laugh and let you look at the scene around you, watch you fall to your knees and continue to beg him to save you.

So, why doesn't he?

You feel cold hands touch your face, holding your cheeks firmly as he says, "Cover your ears and walk."

Before you can say or think anything else, you feel him turn you around.

Now you're leading the way, but almost tucked into his chest, his larger frame looming over you as he covers your eyes with his hand.

Without hesitating for a single second, you plug your ears again, now not needing to worry about shielding your eyes.

His other hand is placed on your lower back, guiding you forward through the corridor, leading you carefully through the sixth circle of Hell.

Do not be mistaken.

He does not care about you.

You're not sure how long it will take to get through the tunnel.

The only thing you can focus on is moving forward.

The feeling of his hand on your lower back and the one covering your eyes is what keeps you grounded as you stumble along.

The ground is uncomfortably hot on your bare feet, but you try not to dwell on it, even though it is a bit of a welcome distraction from the howls of people burning around you.

Arms aching from holding them up to cover your ears, you scream internally at yourself not to let them drop. The auditory horrors waiting for you are a million times worse, you know that.

You've got this, ____.

You let out a shaky sigh and bite your bottom lip, using the pain as another distraction from everything else that's happening.

Not able to see where you're going, your foot catches on a small stone and you stumble forward, fully expecting to fall.

But when his arm wraps around your waist and he practically lifts you up with one arm to right you again, you feel your heart start to hammer in your chest for a reason other than fear.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

You dropped your head into your hands at the sound of your best friend's shaky voice, finally confronting you.

"I didn't know how," You had whispered weakly, "I'm sorry."

The feeling of his hands running down your arms sent a warm feeling into your chest as he knelt in front of you, now face to face with you as you sat on the rickety old cot.

You didn't have the courage to look at him, so you turned your head to look out the small window above the cot, noting how ratty the little drapes looked.

You made a mental note to ask Tae later if he could sew them up for you.

"Please look at me."

You shook your head, biting your lip harshly to hold in the tears.

"You have no reason to be sorry, ____."

You finally looked at him, "Don't call me that," you whispered brokenly, a single tear finally escaping.

His brows furrowed, "Why not?"

"Everytime you call me that, it means you're being serious. I don't want you to be serious."

A sad smile appeared on his handsome face and you felt your heart lodge itself into your throat.

You dragged your eyes away from his, "Don't look at me like that either."

I can't handle it.

A small chuckle reached your ears, and you felt his soft touch as he tucked a piece of hair behind your ear.

"Apple."

You bit your lip even harder before finally looking at him again.

"I don't want things to change," You croaked out tearfully, emotions finally betraying you.

"Nothing is going to change."

You scoffed and looked away, messily wiping the tears that escaped.

"Apple, nothing is going to change." He said more firmly.

"Let's just forget it for now," You stood up and wiped at your face and runny nose, "I have to go. Mother wants me to help with dinner. The Jungs are coming over." You avoided his gaze.

He stood up too and when you chanced a glance at him you could see it on his face.

You could always tell when he lied to you.

Things were going to change.

And there was nothing you could do to stop it.

All sense of time and direction gone, you startle when you feel his hand removing one of your own from your ear.

"You're fine," he says lowly, "We're out."

You drop your arms and wait until he uncovers your eyes, then you peek them open a little, looking around to see that you are no longer in the mountain. The dark smokey mountains loom around you.

"We left the sixth circle?" You whisper, voice cracking.

He nods, "Yeah."

"Thank you," You stare at your hands, picking the dirt from under your nails obsessively.

He doesn't respond, but you don't take that as a bad thing.

Normally, he would have a nasty remark to throw your way. This is progress as far as you're concerned.

When he lifts his head, he sees you staring at him, tears building in your eyes.

"I'm sorry," you whisper, never looking away.

His brows furrow and he cocks his head to the side and looks at you suspiciously, "Why?"

You suddenly realize that you're staring at him and speaking nonsense, so you quickly turn your gaze to the ground and mumble, "Never mind, sorry."

He watches you for a little longer, then drags his eyes away.

"I-..."

You look at him when he speaks, watching as he stares at a rock on the ground, then he huffs out an irritated sigh.

"I need to go for a bit. Just- don't get yourself into trouble. You're enough trouble as it is." He snaps, then walks away.

You don't even flinch when a billow of smoke surrounds him and suddenly he's gone. You just keep staring at the last place he was, anxiety starting to take root in you.

________________

JK doesn't move when he sees the young girl leaning over the fire, her hand outstretched to grab another bundle of herbs wrapped in a thin rope, ready to toss it into the fire and watch it burn as she whispers the words he already heard in his mind moments earlier.

He stays planted on the big barrel in the corner of the old barn she so foolishly decided to summon a demon in; lounging as he watches her emotionlessly.

Usually he'd be giddy with the idea of getting another soul under his belt. Right now he just doesn't want to deal with it.

Everything is confusing him and pissing him off.

More reason to get this over with quickly.

Just as he hops down from the comfortable seat, a chill goes down his spine and he feels a surge of hatred sweep over him.

JK narrows his eyes and steps closer to the girl, almost upon her when what he suspected steps out from one of the dilapidated stalls.

"Hello demon," The unbelievably handsome being walks over until he's standing on the other side of the fire, in the perfect place for the girl to see him if he allows it.

She doesn't seem to sense either of their presences.

JK glares daggers at the newcomer, "My name isn't 'demon'."

"Oh I know that," A soft chuckle follows, "I know who you are, JK."

The demon clenches his fists, "What are you doing here? She summoned me, not you."

"Funny, she doesn't have to summon me," The young man smiles, the most disgustingly beautiful smile.

JK hates him already.

The way he seems to glow within, the pure beauty surrounding this guardian.

He despises it.

"You're not welcome here, demon."

"Funny," JK mocks, "Seems like I'm the one she wants to see, not you."

"She's just a child. Leave her alone."

"Mm, child or not," The devil walks around to get a good look at her face, "She'll make a nice addition to Hell. Why don't you skip along to prayer time and let the two of us talk this out? Besides, she's fifteen, pretty sure she can make her own decisions. But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you, puppet?"

"You have no idea what she's been through," The angel seethes, "Even if you did, you're too weak to prey on someone who actually gives you a challenge. Children are easy right? Animals too. You just love to terrify and manipulate the helpless, you're that pathetic. Am I wrong?"

"Not at all," JK smirks, "Why work harder? Now that we've got that sorted out, run off little angel. I've got some business to do."

"Go ahead and try," The girl's angel walks closer until he's between the girl and the demon she summoned out of pure desperation.

JK grits his teeth at the fact that the guardian angel is at least a foot taller than him, not to mention broader. The wings on his back make him even larger, the purple color shimmering as he glares at the demon in front of him.

"You have no power here, wretch. Get out."

"Gonna let your little girl get away with playing with summoning demons?"

"Leave while I'm asking nicely."

"Aw, you going to go and tell on me to your King?" JK sneers, "Go ahead, I'll take her down with me."

The angel smirks, his handsome face leaning closer, "This child has more strength in her than you will ever have. She's just a bit lost right now. You? You are the lowest, most despicable creature to exist. You have no right to even look at her. Go back to Hell,” He growls.

The demon's jaw clenches when he feels his body starting to leave against his own will.

"Fuck you," he spits at the guardian angel.

The angel only looks into the demon's eyes, smiling gently. He doesn't flinch when he sees the look on his opponent's face, knowing the pain that is starting to consume him.

JK gulps, then he glances back at the girl once more, watching with mounting anger as she seems to have a moment of realization before grabbing a bucket of water and dumping it over the fire, no longer intending to make a deal.

"Get out," The guardian angel whispers one last time.

JK glares as hard as he can before he turns and walks off, disappearing into thin air.

_________________

You jump in surprise when you see him stumble out of another cloud of black smoke, falling to his hands and knees and trembling violently.

"Fuck!" He screams, slamming his fist into the gravel. He grabs a rock that's near him and throws it as hard as he can, shattering it against a small tree that barely moves when struck.

Deciding not to say anything, you keep your eyes downcast as he throws a tantrum, screaming about cursing someone and some other stuff you can't make out.

You think you might hear him saying something about angels, but you’re not sure.

As long as you've been here, you have not seen him like this. He seems to have lost all control.

It's terrifying.

JK breathes deeply, seemingly starting to come down from his enraged high.

He raises his eyes and sees you sitting there.

A flame rises up in him and he marches over to you, making you flinch when he grabs your chin and forces you to look at him.

You can see the anger in his eyes, the sweat making his hair stick to his face as he breathes heavily. It does nothing to help your nerves; you know he’s gorgeous, he knows you know he’s gorgeous.

"Where are they?"

"Who?" Your voice shakes, not knowing what he's getting at.

"Your guardian angel," he seethes, "Where the fuck are they?"

"I- I don't know what you mean-"

"You're telling me to believe that you are this fucking innocent? That your soul is this disgustingly pure and yet your guardian angel just let you come down here without a fight?" He laughs darkly.

"Maybe I don't have one," You try, hoping you sound convincing enough.

"Everyone's got one, darling," He says sickeningly sweet, seeming to have calmed down, yet that doesn't bring you any comfort, “But you already knew that.”

He's staring at you so intently that for a moment you're sure he's figured it out.

What is he going to do to you?

"Well I don't know where mine is!" You shout desperately, standing up and pushing his hand away from you, "Maybe they didn’t want me! I came to Hell to get something no one else can give me, that no angels can give me. I am going through Hell with the help of a demon and you're still doubting me?"

He watches you carefully for a full minute, then he steps closer.

You feel your heart race when he brushes a strand of hair from your face and cups your cheek with his hand, roughly pulling you closer until you can feel his breath against your lips.

He doesn’t care that you’re trembling.

He doesn’t care how your face scrunches in pain, that you’re confused and scared.

He couldn’t care less about the fear in your eyes or the way you gulp anxiously.

You are weak.

You and your heart will always be weak.

He will never care about you.

He will never be weak.

He will crush anything that tries to make him weak.

"If I find out that you've been lying to me, little mortal," His nose brushes against yours, lips briefly touching your own as the thundering in your ribcage picks up.

He pulls back a little, his cold breath still passing your lips and sending a chill down your spine as he whispers, "I will kill you myself."

_________________________________

a/n: tysm for reading, bbies 💕 how are we feeling?

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antimatterz · 11 months

Text

ephialtes

dan heng x gn!reader

ephialtes [noun] 1. a nightmare 2. the demon that is believed to cause nightmares. or alternatively, you find him tormented by a nightmare and help him ease his suffering.

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you're not sure what it was that caused you to wake up. groggily opening your eyes, you were met with darkness. you figured it was still deep in the night. what an unfortunate time to wake up. with a small sigh, you decided to turn around in bed to continue your sleep. it was still way too early.

but a small whimper made you halt your action. next to you, your boyfriend was sleeping, though right now he didn't appear peaceful at all. he was tossing and turning restlessly, and little sounds of dismay escaped his parted lips between ragged breaths. your heart sank as you realized what was going on, and you cast away your desire to sleep.

he was having a nightmare. again.

it wasn't unusual for dan heng to have a nightmare. if any, it was a pretty common occurence. and maybe it was just you being overly worried, but it seemed that his nightmare-rate had increased even more lately. you often woke up because of his restless movements or his anxious whimpers. it broke your heart to see him like that, and you couldn't just continue your nap when he was so obviously suffering.

you turned around to face him, and reached out to touch his arm. you were careful not to wake him, because you knew better than to do so. instead, your fingertips tentatively caressed his upper arm, ignoring the sheen of sweat that rested upon his skin. with your free hand, you flicked on the lamp on the nightstand, and pursed your lips as you saw the state of misery the male was currently in.

his expression was tormented, a deep crease between his furrowed brows and beads of sweat trickling down his temples. his lips were parted as he panted and groaned, and his muscles clenched and uncleched as he shifted uncomfortably. tonight's terror was a heavy one.

"dan heng," you whispered, still without the intention of waking him up. "hey, don't worry. i'm here right next to you, you're safe."

you moved your hand from his arm to his forehead, brushing away a few strands of raven hair that stuck there messily. though you knew a little of what was bothering him in his nightmares, he didn't open up completely yet – which you respected – but you cursed whatever it was that brought dan heng in such a state.

"i won't let it hurt you," you softly said, pressing a chaste kiss to the crown of his hair. "you're here with me in bed, you're okay, you're fine."

you weren't sure if it would work, but you always hoped your voice would reach him somehow. you began stroking his hair, and surely, his frantic movements seemed to subdue a little bit. but his chest still rose and fell rapidly, his breaths coming out raspy and labored. he was so clearly agitated and you had no clue what it was that pestering him. was it about the past that haunted him? you didn't know any details, but you knew that something happened that still tormented him until this day – hence the frequent nightmares.

suddenly, the male flew away from your touch, sitting up with a start. he was breathing heavily, eyes wide and filled with tears of sheer anxiety. you sat back, allowing him some time to orientate after waking up from shock. dan heng brought up his arm and harshly wiped his tears before he finally looked over at you.

"y-y/n," he stammered, voice strained.

he was obviously struggling to contain himself, working hard to recollect the pieces that had been shattered by his nightmare. now you reached out, placing a supportive hand on his back. his shirt stuck to his sweaty back uncomfortably, but that didn't stop you from rubbing soothing circles.

"it was only a bad dream, dan heng," you spoke in a soft tone. "you're safe. follow my lead okay?"

you breathed in slowly, exaggerating the motion to make it easier to follow. your eyes fluttered close as you held the puff of air for a moment before you released it, and you heard how dan heng did the same. you sat like that for a while, solely focusing on your breathing to help the poor male calm down. you felt his chest rise and fall underneath the palm of your hand. it appeared to help, and when you opened your eyes, he seemed a little less agitated. his eyes were on you, and you found a storm raging behind his otherwise so calm irises.

"did i wake you again?" he asked.

"i think so," you shrugged. "but don't apologize, i wouldn't want you to suffer alone. i'm glad i woke up."

"thank you, y/n," dan heng said solemnly. he leaned into your touch, and you saw that as your cue to take him in your embrace.

you shuffled closer to him, wrapping your arms around him as you slowly led him to lay down with you. his usually placid mask was gone completely and he snuggled into you, grateful for the love you gave him after experiencing such terror in his sleep. his breaths – calm but still shaky – ghosted over your skin as you held him close and as the minutes passed by, you felt his rigid muscles relax. you had no idea how lang you lay there like that, but dan heng's breathing grew so even at some point and you suspected he had fallen asleep again.

you smiled tiredly, pressing another kiss to the top of his head. nights like this weren't uncommon. rather, it happened multiple times a week. it was messing with your sleep and you felt unnaturally tired lately, but it was okay. you made your boyfriend's miserable nights bearable, which you gladly did. you gladly sacrificed some of your sleep to help dan heng get through the night, and you wouldn't ever get second thoughts.

it wasn't long before soft snores came from the boy in your arms, and you now knew for sure he was fast asleep. that was all the reassurance you needed to be sure that he was okay again, and you finally allowed your eyes to close as well. holding him tightly, you fell asleep minutes later.

another night had passed, and peace had returned. but for how long?

#dan heng #dan heng x reader #hsr dan heng #dan heng hsr #honkai #honkai star rail #honkai star rail dan heng #hsr #dan heng x y/n #dan heng x you #dan heng honkai star rail #honkai dan heng #hsr x reader #honkai x reader #— enyo writes

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