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selineram3421 · 28 days

Text

*spaced out*

Courting Pursuit

Part 1

Prologue

Alastor X Deer Reader

Warnings ⚠

⚠ (gn) gender neutral reader, mule deer reader, assuming alastor is a marsh deer, flustered alastor, Spanish translated, food mention-not specific, italics= thoughts, mentions of dismemberment ⚠

You had gotten Alastor's attention after that peck on the forehead.

It annoyed him though.

How dare some demon think to kiss him, the frightening Radio Demon, who slaughtered other Overlords to get to the top. He should be feared!

But after that day all you did was give him gentle smiles and what he assumes are compliments in Spanish. He's had to get a dictionary to translate them, not wanting to go to Vaggie every time.

After learning how to properly translate in his radio tower, he's left with a flushed face.

Damn that sleepy eyed deer- He huffs and tosses the book away.

Then he starts to notice more things about you. Mostly because he's trying to figure out a way to get you back for daring to touch him.

You look sleepy, almost all the time.

Noticing how strong you are when you lift one of the couches for Niffty to clean under it. How big your antlers are and how often you have to lower your head in order to enter a room without hitting your antlers on the door frame. Damn Angel for pointing out your big build and chest.

A button has shot out and broken a glass at the bar, the thread having finally snapped from the constant tension.

"Holy shit!", Angel laughed and turned to the white haired demon. "Hey vagina! You owe me a twenty!"

He learned the proper shirt size for you so that it wouldn't happen again.

Then he's noticed that you like to stand near him when given the chance. Sitting on the chair next to him when having dinner with everyone, sometimes following him to the bar, and then watching him cook.

It annoys him.

You still don't fear him.

Another night, another meal to be made and you're watching him cook again. The Radio Demon finally speaks up about your presence in the kitchen.

"If you aren't going to contribute in making the food, then leave.", he glances over his shoulder with a slight glare.

The mule deer stays leaning against the door frame for a second longer before pushing themselves off, walking over while rolling up their sleeves.

"Te ayudaré." (I will help you.)

It is quiet in the kitchen, save for the occasional ask for spices and other ingredients.

You are quite skilled with a knife.

He watches from the corner of his eye as you mince the vegetables.

After everything is done, you get the plates and set them down on the counter before starting to serve some the food one one of them.

"Who are you serving?", he questions.

You don't reply, instead you finish piling food on the plate before offering it to him with the same smile you always show him.

"Eat."

The Radio Demon was confused but took the plate anyway. It was the cook that ate last, it's always been that way.

"I don't really understand why you served me first. The others are in the dining room.", he said.

Before he could put his plate down, you stopped him and gave him a utensil.

"Please, eat. Has trabajado duro, así que come y relájate. Yo serviré.", you flashed another smile and gathered up the other food filled plates, balancing them on your arms as you made your way over to the door. (You have worked hard, so eat and relax. I will serve.)

He stood there as he watched you leave the room, taking a glance at the plate in his hands.

What exactly were you trying to do?

Later in the week, Alastor decided to pay a visit to Rosie and brought some food that you had made after finding out where he was going.

He sat on one of the arm chairs as the woman across from him complimented your food.

"I need advise for a problem."

The black eyed woman lifted a brow.

"You? Now this must be something good. You never ask for advise unless something has really stumped ya.", she said and dabbed the corners of her mouth with a napkin.

"It's about that mule deer I brought with me last time, the hotel guest.", his smile strained slightly. "I don't understand why aren't scared of me like other sinners. Hell, even the Princess knows to be wary of me but the damn demon just smiles at me."

This gets her attention and she sits up a bit straighter.

"Go on.."

"Not only that, they dare to peck me on the forehead.", he looks away. "I hate that they aren't afraid. They sit close to me, compliment me, follow me around sometimes, helped me in the kitchen just a few days ago. Served me a plate even!", he raised a hand up in annoyance. "I've ripped demons apart in front of them but they still act so strangely around me! I don't understand! Why are they so odd!?"

Rosie laughs as she places her elbow on the arm rest, leaning her chin in the palm of her hand, wearing a knowing smile.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're being courted."

Alastor turned to look at his friend.

"A what now?"

You..courting him?

How absurd! Laughable even.

"Hahahaha!", he wiped a tear away. "I didn't think you'd make such a ridiculous joke, ha.."

The woman crossed her arms and stared him down with a look.

"Surely you jest.", he says.

Rosie sighs and stands from her seat. "Dear old friend, what are the ways to court or show interest in a person?"

"Ah..well. You know I've never-", he begins but is cut off.

"The most popular ways to court someone are to give the person of their interest compliments, attention, gifts, acts of service, and often treated in a respectable manner.", she lists off and she walks over to stand next to his chair. "And the oh so famous line of reaching a person's heart is through their stomach.", she says and pokes his mid section. "It sounds a lot like what that big darling deer is doing for you."

Alastor left, not knowing what else to say after his friend laid out the evidence so plainly for him to see. Once he arrived back at the hotel, he noticed the mule deer sleeping in the lobby on one of the couches.

"Everyone else is asleep in their rooms.", Husk spoke up fron the bar.

The spider demon is at the bar drinking a maroon liquid from a martini glass in his hand.

"Why are they..here?", the Radio Demon gestures to you.

"Said something about making sure to welcome you when you got back. I don't know why they'd want to though.", the cat demon serves himself a drink.

"Gentle Giant is real sweet, that's why.", Angel places his cup on the bar counter. "Damn, I'd want some hot demon to welcome me back home.", he says before leaning closer to the bartender. "Oh Husk~"

Husk just rolls his eyes and drinks his alcohol.

"They gotta sleep in their room. The couch is not that comfortable.", Husk mentions.

Not too long later, the two demons at the bar leave to go to their rooms to retire for the night.

Alastor now left with the task of waking you up.

He goes over and places a hand on your shoulder, beginning to shake you slightly.

"Wake up. You have to go to your room.", he says.

You slowly blink your eyes open and stare at him for a second. Then that soft dopey smile forms on your face.

"Bienvenido de nuevo.", you mumbled out. (Welcome back.)

". . . . . . . . ."

Shit.

He made sure you didn't hit anything on your way back to your room. Immediately walking away after your door closes to think over a few things.

Fun fact: Female deer can also have antlers but it is very rare and only occurs when there is a hormonal imbalance of testosterone/regulation issues.

~Seline, the person.

Part 2

Taglist@

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ML II Alastor🎙 | CP ChL🦌

#mule deer reader #deer demon reader #alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel #the radio demon #x reader #gn reader #alastor x reader #mentions of dismemberment #flustered alastor

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liveontelevision · 2 months

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Quick Fix | Alastor X Reader

My first smut! This was harder than i expected 🥲 let me know what y'all think <3

Preview:

"You Asshole!! What were you thinking?? What made you think you could beat a fucking exorcist without an angelic weapon? Let alone, Adam!" You were pacing back and forth in the half lounge/half swamp room. The radio demon sat on the cushioned chair by the green-flamed fireplace. He seems completely unphased, not exactly angry or sad, just empty.

"You may be strong, Alastor, but know your fucking limits! Fuck!" You scolded him, looking in his direction every so often, hoping for some kind of response. Anger, guilt, anything.

•••

You became close with Alastor after appearing in the hotel just weeks before the battle on extermination day. After constantly complaining about being bored, the demon was finally sick of it. He let you sit in during his broadcasts, have morning tea with him, and eventually become a part of his daily routine. You were less whiney when preoccupied, Alastor told you, as a way to cover his enjoyment of having you nearby wherever he went. You became closer after time due to your constant questioning. He told you small things, like the type of jazz he enjoyed, specific whiskeys he liked while alive, and his plans for upcoming broadcasts.

He was too stubborn to admit this was anything beyond wanting occasional company. And you were too dense to really notice his soft blushes that would creep across his cheeks whenever you gave him a quick hug, or how he would lay his hand overtop yours when your arms were linked, or the occasional sweet smiles that he'd adorn while looking at you.

Putting the obvious feelings aside, you became incredibly concerned hearing that Alastor volunteered to take care of Adam during the upcoming war. You did what you could during the battle, mainly shielding yourself from oncoming attacks and leading exterminators to those who were equipped to land the final strike. Occasionally, you'd notice some small black and white stitched dolls running around and taking out exterminators that you didn't notice. One's that would've surely killed you. All you could do was shelter yourself from the slaughter after the shield cracked around the hotel. You didn't get a chance to even process everything until the battle had finally ended.

No one had seen Alastor for days while renovating the hotel, only appearing once the grand opening arrived. He was chipper and devious, like usual, acting completely normal (or however normal looks on a radio demon) around everyone. He would attempt to tease you, but you were quick to dismiss him, or turn your back, or simply walk away.

When chasing around Niffty one night, after she managed to steal your jacket with the smallest stain, you turn a corner and smack right into Alastor's chest. You hold in your gasp, straining your neck to look the demon in the eyes.

"Alastor! S-sorry, see, Niffty took my jacket and i think she went that way, so i starting running and-" your quick words were immediately silenced once you saw him hunch over, holding himself up with a hand on his knee, the other gripping tightly onto his chest.

"Alastor, what's wrong? Hey, talk to me! Al, please..!" You hovered around him, noticing a small stain of blood form on his suit. Your eyes were quick to well up with tears, assuming that wound was your fault. He lifted his head to see your sorry state and quickly stood straight. He acted as if he wasnt just hunched over in pain, "Come my dear, i assure you this has nothing to do with you. No need to worry your little head." He spoke sweetly, patting your head, as if the blood stain wasnt slowly spreading across his suit.

It didn't take long for you to question and pester him into letting you follow him to his room. Just for tea, he clarified. He routinely hung up his coat as he entered his room, taking a heavy seat in his chair. You refused to say anything in that moment. You had nothing to say to him. He needed to explain himself to you. You held your cup in your hands, watching him casually drink his tea, simply ignoring the large stain across his shirt. He finally let out a sigh, wanting to end this awkward silence.

"I seemed to have taken some damage during my battle with Adam. I was quick to make the right decision, and left the battle." He shrugged off the statement as if it were no big deal. "And clearly it was the proper response, I would hate to get in the way of Lucifer's battle." He hissed out the king's name, scowling at the thought of him finishing Adam off himself.

He widened his eyes in your direction, hearing the shatter of procelain. Your hands were shaking to the point that your cup fell off your lap. The sudden sound made Alastor's ears fall back for just a moment.

"Are you... fucking kidding me??" You shouted at him, standing up and huffing your arms across your chest.

"You may be strong, Alastor, but know your fucking limits! Fuck!" You scolded him, looking in his direction every so often, hoping for some kind of response. Anger, guilt, anything.

You felt a hand wrap its fingers around your wrist, pulling you to attention.

"Watch what you say, dear. You'd be a fool to question my strength, again." He spoke in a low frequency, making your heart thump. You quickly snapped away your wrist, looking at him with an unphased expression.

"Then show me. I want to see what he did." This was the first time you spoke so strictly towards him. It shocked him a bit. He groaned and sat back in his chair, unbuttoning his shirt to reveal a poorly stitched together wound that trailed from his hip to his shoulder. You tensed your entire body, feeling and looking as small as possible. Of course, you weren't the best of friends, but it still tugged at your heart strings that he wouldn't tell you about this. And as much as you hated to admit it, seeing his bare chest did make you flush.

His head fell into his hand that rested on the arm of his chair, turning his eyes away from your direction. He didn't turn back to you until he heard a small hic. Your eyes welled with tears again, and trying to hold your breath wasn't working." I-I.. i'm so sorry, Alastor, i didn't know you got hurt. I was just.. I was worried... about you." You sniffled in between your words, wiping your eyes. You suddenly feel a hand on the back of your head, Alastor pulls you in, letting your head rest against his chest. Your heart raced, worried that you'd be hurting him more and simply embarrassed to be this close to him. You looked up to meet his eyed, his smile was geniune and sweet, again. A sight you haven't seen in days.

"It's healing fine, darling, our little collision earlier simply pulled the stiches a tad, not to worry." He placed a quick kiss to your head, something you were hardly expecting.

"Was it.. scary?" You asked softly, dewy eyes still looking at him, as he brushed his thumb across your cheek to wipe a falling tear. He held his breath at your question. There was an obvious response. He ruined his microphone, was humilated by a frat boy (Adam) and nearly died. But he would die all over again before admitting his fear.

"Not at all! I've taken much harder hits, i told you, you have nothing to worry about." He spoke quickly, repeating himself to imply an end to the questioning. You looked down at his wound, audibly wincing. Reaching your hand out, you lightly brushed your fingers against the barely scabbed slash. He was quick to flinch backwards at the sudden touch, but kept still after that. He told himself it was to help ease your nerves, but he was denying the fact that your cool hand seemed to ease his pain. You perked up, looking back to him, with a determined look on your face.

" I can sew! I do it all the time! It.. It wont be medical grade - not even close- but youre falling apart here." You needed to help him somehow. Alastor was conflicted again, nervous at the idea of a more intimate touch, but.. still wanting it. Especially from you. He lets out a hum, and nods. Your eyes brightened immediately, making him smirk a bit more. "Okay! All i need is my little sewing kit, i think i left it in my room, let me get it-" you turned towards the door, suddenly becoming disoriented at the sigh of your own bedroom. You turned back to Alastor, who had sauntered over to your bed and plopped himself down on the side." O-Oh, sure.. this works." You let out a nervous chuckle, gathering some items before sitting next to him on your bed. As you got situated, Alastor laid his back against the bed, hands holding his head. He hummed a soft tune, trying to relax himself as much as he could in this situation. The scent of your room, your body so close to him right where you sleep. Where you would -

He chokes on nothing, before letting his gaze rest on the cieling.

"O-Okay, i know it's gonna hurt, so.. tell me if it's too much, i guess.." You try to warn him, slowly beginning to pull out the thick, coarse, thread that he had clearly used on himself. You cringe at the thought of him stiching up his own fresh wounds, but once you thread your needle, you focused quickly. You were very steady. One hand was placed on his hip, the other looping the bright green thread - the only color you had - through toughened skin. You tried not to get distracted but the numerous smaller scars that led across his entirety. Or by the raising of his chest as he breathed. The moment was so calm, Alastor clearly enjoying this sort of treatment.

"You're doing okay? Need a break? I'm just about halfway there-"

"Darling, what did i say about questioning my strength? If you ask agai-" you suddenly hit a specific spot that must have been especially tender.

"Yeah yeah, i know you can handle it, just making sure. And sit still!" You quickly dismissed his threat.

After a quiet few minutes, you gently tugged the thread, closing the wound as tight as it could be. The silence was calm, neither of you feeling the need to make senseless small talk. You finally sit up with your hands on your hips.

"Done!" You speak triumphantly, appreciating your handy work. Alastor took a moment to sit up. He hadn't fallen asleep exactly, but he sure wasn't entirely awake. He looks down and runs his clawed hands across the threaded wound, surprised by how clean it looked. You immediately noticed that he was surprised by the quality of your stitching, making you scoff and give him a teasing push." I told you i could help! It looks good, just thank me already." You scolded, rolling his eyes at his patronizing actions.

Alastor chuckles delightfully, leaning his body closer to yours.

"Thank you, dear." He spoke in a low tone, almost too close to your face. You attempted to turn your head away, but he was quick to take a hold of your chin and bring your eyes back on him.

" Is that what you want to hear? Hm? Or.. did you want me to repay you some other way?" He was clearly teasing, loving the absolute nervous wreck you were becoming.

"Yes, please." You squeeked out. The look in his eyes was confused, not exactly expecting you to give in so easily. Usually, you were so stubborn when he would treat you this way, but not seeing him for days on end drove you to nod in response to his question immediately.

"Hm. Well, since you worked so skillfully, i suppose you deserve a reward." He pulled you in, his breath heating the skin right by your ear." - And because you asked so nicely~" he murmured, making your face instantly hot. You took a hold of his face and quickly pulled your lips together, giving him no time to tease you any more than he already had. He swallowed whatever he was about to say and gave in to the kiss. He scooched closer, pulling you towards him by your waist at the same time. He pulled away from your lips to enjoy the breathless, flushed look on your face. The demon let out a low chuckle before taking your waist again and pushing your back to the bed, following along with the movement.

He found himself looming over your body, his hands on either side of your head.

"I'll be gentle, cher, not to worry." He spoke sweetly, quick to trace his hand under your shirt. He traced his claws up the center of your stomach and up to your chest, your top being pulled up along with his movement. It revealed a lovely dark red bralette with little structure and thin material, leaving very little to the imagination. He looked over you like he was ready to pounce. Alastor leaned down, locking your lips to his again. You parted your own lips, moving your tongue into his mouth. He flinched in surprise but did his best to conceal it. Your arms wrapped around his neck, running your hands through his hair, as you arched your back towards his body, longing to be closer. He shifted his position, since you had so rudely pulled him down by his neck, to sit atop your hips. The sudden sensation made you yelp into the kiss. Alastor forcefully pulled himself away and sat up to enjoy the desperate look on your face.

"My, my~ eager aren't we?" He teases, running his thumb across his wet lips.

"But you've done enough for me, my dear. Please, just enjoy the show." He had a devilish smile, pulling your bottoms and panties off you while he spoke. You clenched your fists onto the sheets, tensing from sheer anticipation. He moved off the bed and took a hold of your hips, gently palming them before quickly yanking your body to the edge of the bed. You yelped and sat up. "Alastor, be careful! I don't know if you should- i-if you should..." you covered your mouth, not finishing your sentence but desperate to not let out any noises, as he pulled your thighs apart, sitting in between them. He ran his lips across the softness of your inner thighs, leaving occasional bruises on the way towards your center.

He tantalizingly ran his tongue across your folds, somehow already soaked after the past few moments. He lapped up some of your juices, before flicking his tongue across your clit, circling the area immediately. The sharp sensitivity made you jolt, attempting to grab his hair, but accidentally grabbing onto one of his ears. He yelped, flinching at the sensation, but immediately flushing after. You couldn't help but giggle, hearing this powerful demon yelp.

He wasn't happy about being laughed at. He gave you no warning, before jutting two of his fingers into your enterance. You gasp, arching your back into his touch, hand still held tightly on to a combination of his hair and the side of his ear. He would never admit how much that fueled him. He curled his fingers slightly, but not entirely. And began to pump his fingers, but not as fast as you'd like. He knew what he was doing.

"Alastor..! Ahh-" you moaned out his name, grinding against his fingers. Powered by the sound of his name on your trembling lips, he pumped his fingers faster, placing his tongue back against your clit. The sensation when those two actions hit you, made you moan out even louder, your body squirming against his face. He took a hold of your leg and pulled it over his shoulder, to reach an even deeper spot inside of you. "H-Hold on, that's too much..! Al-Alastor i'm gonna cum, you h-have to stop..!" You quickly warn him, giving his hair another yank. He simply ignored any warnings you cried out, letting the feeling build until you lost control. You arched your back, your body convulsing as he continued to overstimulate your cunt. Your eyes watered, trying to squirm away from his grasp, but he wasn't done with you. He held onto your legs, refusing to let you get away for minutes.

"S-Stop! I can't.. mm- it's too much- Al p-please.." you start to beg, the orgasm becoming a slight pain in your stomach. He pulled away quickly, not giving you the satisfaction of letting you ride out your pleasure, which only made your breathing hitch. He went back in for a moment, running his tongue entirely across your folds, cleaning up the juices that were pooling on the blanket beneath you.

He pulled you back onto the bed, letting you catch your breath. He rested his head on his hand, humming satisified at your almost pained reaction.

"Well well.. was that too much to handle? Do you not have the strength to endure anything else?" He teased, faking a coddling voice. He swung his legs back over you, straddling you once again.

"I told you darling, even in my weakened state, you underestimate my strength." He gloated, wickedly smiling down at you. His pride let him go on like this for a moment, before you took the collar of his unbottoned shirt and yanked him to face you. You went on and pressed a heavy kiss onto his lips, immediately pushing your tongue back into his mouth, feeling the dampness that you caused on his chin. You went on like this to the point of him melting into your grasp, letting out small noises into your mouth. Once you were satsified, you pulled him back. Looking at him with sweet doe eyes.

"Alastor? Love?"

you pulled him closer, never giving him a chance to reply, lips pressed against the side of his head.

"Ruin me~" you let out in a silky voice. You released his collar letting him jolt up at the sudden boldness, looking into your eyes that had a lust he never expected to see.

He cleared his throat then shook the surprised look off his face.

"If you insist, Love.."

He tried to play off his growing excitment, but the way he hurriedly took off his trousers, immediately leaving his throbbing cock against your opening, was a clear indicator that you said all the right things. He barely gave you a chance to prepare, before thrusting his hips until he was completely inside of you. Even trying to play off the intimidating and strong act, you could still tell he knocked the wind out of himself. He was quick to begin moving, starting slow to let your discomfort melt away, then setting a hasty rhythm after. His claws dug until your hips, just enough to draw a trail of blood that ran down your thigh. The sight of it drove Alastor even crazier.

He began to lose his strength as he started to reach his orgasm. He fell forward, immediately biting into the flesh of your neck to anchor himself. You let out a stiffled yell, the combination of pain and overstimulated pleasure driving your body to cum almost instantly. You hold onto his back, nails scratching his skin. You could feel him shiver in response. He only went on harder trying to achieve his own high, which was quick to follow yours. He held your hips flush to his as he came inside of you, then after holding that position for a moment, he thrusted his hips into your already full entrance. You let out a pathetic whimper as he sat up, looking down and appreciating the mess of bruises and bites he managed to leave on your soft bust. He licked his lips, taking in a bit of the blood that seeped from those very wounds.

Alastor almost immediately stood up, coming back composed as ever. He delicately cleaned you up, before laying back down onto your bed, next to your still heaving body.

"Asshole, give me a second.." you managed to mumble at him, wiping tears from your eyes. You finally get a chance to look at him, seeing his devious smile. "Okay! Fine! I get it, youre still as strong as ever, get over it!" You yelled, knowing thats what he wanted to hear.

"Of course I am, cher! But.. i'll be more careful from now on, so you won't constantly pester me about my wounds." He spat out, clearly meaning to reassure you, even though he sounded pained to give in to you like that. You smile and give him a quick kiss before your eyes trail back down to his chest, half the fresh stitches ripped open. You roll your eyes before getting up to grab your needle and thread again.

"Oh my! I suppose you'll have to fix me up again! Be more thorough this time, dear. i'll have to thank you for this repair, as well."

#alastor x reader #alastor x you #hazbin hotel #alastor #hazbin #hazbin alastor #hazbin hotel smut #alastor smut

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pxob · 1 year

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angel eyes

Genya Shinazugawa x Fem!Reader

Word count: 5524

Category: Enemies to lovers, slow burn romance, angst and fluff.

Warnings: Manga spoilers (if you squint), mentions of death, blood and injury and swearing.

Prologue

Kanae-sama and Shinobu-sama had taken you in as a child after a demon attack had brutally slaughtered your parents. From that day on, you harboured a deep resentment towards the foul creatures that had caused so much pain and suffering, not just to you but to countless others as well.

Despite the trauma you had endured, your gratitude towards the Kocho family never wavered. They had taken you in, provided you with a loving home, and helped you heal from the devastating loss of your parents.

While Kanao was timid and obedient, you were more like a replica of Kanae-sama's personality - kind, loving, and easy-going, except when it came to your deep-seated resentment towards demons.

Your bond with Kanae-sama was as tight as any sibling relationship could be. Shinobu-sama recognised your deep connection with her biological sister and would even let her strict personality slip around you. From dawn until dusk, you trained with Kanae-sama and shared meals with her every evening. You were inseparable, to the point where Shinobu-sama had to physically intervene to separate the two of you.

Until she died at the hands of Upper Moon 2. The news spread like wildfire, and you threw yourself into training with tireless resolve, determined to become the Tsuguko that Kanae-sama had hoped for.

Kanao and Shinobu-sama were worried about you day and night, and despite Kanao's silent presence, she never left your side. She was aware of the hole in your heart that may never be filled again after Kanae-sama's death.

A part of you, gone.

“You’re not going to like this,” Aoi said as a way of greeting. She was standing at the sliding door of yours and Shinobu-sama’s research room.

“Aoi-chan,” you looked up at her from your microscope. “What are you unhappy about now?” You teased.

“Oh, it’s not me who's going to be unhappy,” Aoi said, giving you a knowing smile. You raised an eyebrow in curiosity as you heard a pair of unfamiliar footsteps approaching.

Aoi stepped aside and introduced you to the boy. "This is Shinobu-sama's Tsuguko," she said, "She'll be giving you frequent check-ups, so please treat her with respect." Her words dripped with venom as she added, "And if you don't, I'll poison your medication."

The boy stood in the same spot where Aoi had been moments before, his impressive height looming over her. He donned the uniform of a demon slayer, and his muscular physique strained against the tight sleeves. As you observed him closely, you couldn't help but count the numerous scars that littered his body.

You also couldn't help but notice the unruly, unevenly cut hair on his head that resembled a rooster's comb.

“You’re fucken kiddin’ me,” were his first words.

You smiled in realisation, remembering clearly where you first met this boy.

Upon reaching the mountain top, you both were met with the discord of yelling and bodies shifting aggressively on the cobblestone path.

“This is for starin’ at me, ya yellow-headed freak,” the boy shouted as he grabbed the other young boy by his yellow kimono.

The examinees were scattered, murmuring, yet none intervened.

“I WASN’T STARING AT YOU!” He shrieked.

Everyone held their breath, waiting to see what would happen next.

“Ya were, dickwad,” the boy replied, his fist raised menacingly.

Without hesitation, you swiftly made your way towards the boy, grabbing his wrist tightly.

“It’s rude to assault strangers,” you said calmly, a smile plastered onto your face.

"The fuck," he said aggressively as he tried to retract his wrist from your grasp, you tightened your grip even more.

The yellow-haired boy fled the moment he saw an opening, tears streaming down his cheeks as he trembled uncontrollably.

“Let go, bitch,” he spat out, face turning red.

Kanao took a step toward him, a silent threat emanating from her.

“It’s okay, Kanao,” you said kindly, “Some people are unfortunate to not have been taught basic manners.”

The bystanders began to chuckle lightly.

"One day, I hope he learns to be kind," you said, twisting his wrist firmly. "Otherwise, his attitude will be the death of him." You then took hold of his elbow, manoeuvring it into a lock and guided him towards the ground.

A resonating thump followed as he hollered below you.

“YOU FUCKEN BITCH I’LL SLAUGHTER YOU!”

“Your attitude has not changed since then it seems,” you stood, slowly walking towards him.

He had grown an incredible amount in the short time since you last saw him, a clear indication of Himejima's rigorous training regimen and, most likely, his constant consumption of demon flesh.

"Thank you for bringing him here, Aoi-chan," you said, the boy was staring back at you with a bewildered expression. "You may go now," you added, dismissing Aoi with a nod of your head.

“Please come in,” you said, turning and leading the way towards the working desk, where there were two chairs on opposite sides of the table. “Please take a seat,” you gestured towards one of the chairs, noticing that the boy was still standing by the door.

"I'm not coming in," he declares, looking down the hallway, averting his gaze.

"Why is that? I won't bite," you joke with a friendly smile. But the boy remains rooted to the spot.

“What’s your name?” you asked politely.

“None of your business,” he snapped back.

“Okay, none of your business,” he scoffed at that. “I’m going to be putting my valuable time and efforts into you-”

“That was your choice,” he cut you off rudely.

Classic

“Himejina-san informed me all about your case,” You walked towards the cabinet, situated on the far side of the room, where you stored all sorts of medicinal concoctions. Your gaze scanned the shelves, searching for the specific one you needed, after a few moments of searching, you finally found the right vial and walked back towards him.

As you approached him, you noticed he was watching you every step of the way. You held out the vial and said, "I've created this specifically for your special case. It's designed to help mitigate any extraneous effects that may arise."

The boy's eyes narrowed sceptically as he glanced back and forth between you and the vial. He hesitated before finally speaking up, "What if you poisoned this shit?"

"Don't worry," you said. "It's completely safe.”

He took the vial and inspected it closely. "Should you ever feel overwhelmed with the powers of the demons you consume, this should help ease it," you explained. "I recommend that you drink a tablespoon every half day and come back to me every week to check in on your progress."

You took a step back from him and flashed a teasing smile. "And maybe then, you'll finally feel comfortable enough to share your name with me!"

His face contorted into an irked expression, and he turned to walk away upon hearing your comment. As he strode down the hallway, you noticed him tuck the vial into his pocket and observed his ears turning red.

A few days later, a group of three new demon slayers arrived at the Butterfly Mansion and were granted the privilege of staying there. You recognised each one of them from the mountain top of the final selection. Among them was the yellow-haired boy named Zenitsu, who seemed to recognise you even more. He took a considerable liking to you, constantly fawning whenever he catches sight of you.

But what surprised everyone was the presence of a demon among them. It was unprecedented to have a demon among the ranks of the demon slayers; however, despite this, you have taken a liking in investigating the demon named Nezuko.

Kanae-sama had a goal of eventually living in peace with demons. If Kanae-sama were here, she would have loved Nezuko, a sweet young girl who can easily be seen as a younger sister figure to almost anyone.

“Zenitsu-san, your drool is creating a puddle on the ground,” you said as you were training.

He sighed dreamily, “You’re so radiant, etherial, powerful-”

You promptly resumed your training as Zenitsu's words started to sound like white noise.

As he continued to ogle over you, another presence approached the training grounds. He stopped immediately upon seeing you training, his eyes scanning over your movements with interest.

He watched as you effortlessly destroyed every single bamboo target with just a few swings of your Nichirin blade. Your movements were so swift and precise, as if you were dancing through the air. He couldn't help but feel a tinge of jealousy and spite as he watched you move with such ease and grace.

He wondered how many hours of practice and dedication it must have taken to reach such a level of skill.

He could tell that you had been a Tsuguko for quite some time, likely honing your skills through rigorous training and practice. If you continued at this pace, he couldn't help but wonder if you might become a Hashira in a matter of months. And what was even more impressive was that you would be the second youngest among the Hashira, which made your potential all the more remarkable.

The thought of someone else reaching such a high level of skill and potential while he remained stagnant infuriated him. It stung even more because he had always wanted to impress his brother, the only person he ever truly wanted to please. But seeing your abilities, he couldn't help but feel like he would never be good enough in his brother's eyes.

You turned around, a smirk spreading across your face as beads of sweat rolled down your serene complexion. "Oh, didn’t see you there," you said with a chuckle. "I'm glad you came back."

Zenitsu's eyes snapped to where you were now looking and he yelped, "SCARY MAN!"

The boy turned to face Zenitsu and said, "Piss off, creep.”

His words made Zenitsu run to where his other two companions were within the mansion.

You headed towards the engawa, where a carafe of water was waiting for you. As you walked away, he couldn't help but survey the damage you had done to all of your targets. It was clear that you had accomplished it all without using any specific techniques, leaving him in awe. "How did you do that?" he blurted out.

As you finished gulping the water, swiping the rouge droplets from your chin you asked, “Do what?”

He pointed towards the targets, now reduced to mere fragments joining with the dirt on the ground.

You let out a small laugh, "How did I do it without using any breathing technique?" You walked towards his side, "You're quite observant. How about you tell me your name and I'll teach you a thing or two?" You teased.

"Genya Shinazugawa," he replied straight to the point.

You grinned and said, "I meditate for an hour every morning and night."

He looked at you with disbelief and asked, "Ya kidding, right?" He visibly deflated and continued, "Ya tellin’ me you sit on your ass and breathe for two hours a day? That's fucken ridiculous," his tone laced with disdain.

"You'll understand one day," you replied, a hint of amusement in your voice, and then pivoted on your heel. "Let's start your check-up, Genya-san."

“Take off your shirt,” you instructed.

Genya stuttered in surprise, “What?”

As you reached for the stethoscope from the table drawer, you said, "I need to listen to your lungs and heart for any defects.”

“Oh.”

Respecting Genya's privacy, you continued facing the opposite direction as he removed his upper layers. You could hear the rustling of clothes and then the sound of them falling to the floor. Once you sensed that he had finished, you turned around to face him.

You couldn't help but marvel at his physique. At his age, he was unbelievably ripped with muscles and scars that seemed to accentuate his sculpted form, as if he was crafted from the finest quality marble. You rubbed your eyes, pretending as if something had gotten into them and then looked at him, only to find that he was already staring back at you.

“Please have a seat,” you gestured towards the chair beside the table.

He complied, appearing to be more cooperative than before. You pulled a stool in front of him and noticed him tense up, every muscle in his body taut.

You clenched your jaw, put on the earpieces, and carefully placed the stethoscope on his left pectoral, listening to the booming beat of his heart.

"Why is your heart beating so quickly, Genya-san?" You prodded, looking up at him through your lashes.

"Drank tea," he replied too quickly.

As you removed the stethoscope from his pectoral and stood up, you noticed that he was staring out the window.

"Are you nervous, Genya-san?" you asked, trying to provoke a response.

He snapped his eyes toward you. "Fuck no," he said, his voice tense.

You towered over him as he remained seated in the chair, observing the way his jaw clenched and unclenched and his hands balled up in fists. Maintaining eye contact, you slowly walked around to his back and brought the stethoscope above his scapula.

“Genya-san,” you said softly.

"What?" he said sharply.

"Your lungs aren't expanding and contracting properly," you pointed out, a clear indication that he was holding his breath. "I'm going to need you to take some deep breaths for me."

Reluctantly, he complied and you listened carefully to his breathing. His lungs seemed to be contracting more than they should for someone at rest.

You took a step back and removed the stethoscope, gaping at the size of his back. Quickly, you shook your head, trying to clear the improper thoughts that had crept into your mind.

He hastily gathered the clothes lying on the floor and put them on. “Has the medicine been helpful to you in any way?” you asked.

He responded with a grunt.

“I need you to respond verbally, Genya-san,” you insisted.

“Yes,” he snapped.

"Very well," you said, making your way to the table and focusing on the array of ingredients on your shelves, trying to regain your composure.

"You're healthy. I'll just need you to avoid drinking tea before our next check-up," you concluded.

You heard the sound of the door sliding opening. "Please close the door on your way out," you said delicately, not turning around to face him. He did exactly that, saying nothing but walking out of the room. You swore under your breath.

As he sped down the hallway, his mind raced and his heart pounded with a sense of urgency.

He knew he couldn't deal with you anymore. The thought of being trapped within four walls with you made his stomach leap, a clear indication of disgust.

Your soft spoken voice, loving eyes and kind touches had a way of making him feel at ease. He couldn't help but notice how you treated everyone with kindness, even those who mistreated you. It was intoxicating and he couldn't comprehend how someone could be so selfless.

Your angel eyes saw good in many evil, it was something that both repulsed and charmed him at the same time. He couldn't understand how you could be so forgiving and compassionate, yet he found himself drawn to it like a moth to a flame.

As he rushed out of the mansion, he bumped into a red-headed boy, barely registering his presence. The boy yelled something after him, but all Genya could think of was getting away from you. He needed to breathe, to clear his head, because the more he allowed himself to be drawn towards you, the more his carefully constructed plan to reach his brother began to crumble.

He knew he couldn't afford to let himself catch feelings for you. It would only make things more complicated and could jeopardise everything he had worked so hard for. But the more he thought about you, the more he found himself unable to resist your angelic nature.

Genya's frustration boiled over as he ran his hands through his hair, yanking on his locks in anger. "FUCK!" he shouted, lashing out and kicking a nearby rock, sending it careening into the trees.

Today was the day of another weekly checkup.

You were prepared, steeling yourself to remain professional and composed despite the tension that lingered between you.

As you waited for Genya's arrival, you reviewed your notes and made sure everything was in order. Despite trying to remain composed, you couldn't help but feel a tinge of anxiety in the pit of your stomach.

It was a little late, later than he had previously arrived. You tried to push the feeling aside, reminding yourself that anything could have delayed him and it was better to wait patiently.

The sun had already set and the night stars were becoming prominent outside your window.

"Where is he?" you muttered to yourself, glancing at the clock on the wall.

You couldn't help but wonder if he was deliberately avoiding the appointment, perhaps because of his stubborn nature or his reluctance to be confined in the medical room.

So be it, Genya.

Despite trying to distract yourself with training, your thoughts kept wandering back to Genya. It had been several days since you last saw him, and you couldn't help but wonder where he was and what he was doing.

But you pushed those thoughts aside and focused on your role as a mentor to Tanjiro, Inosuke, and Zenitsu. You spent long hours helping them hone their skills and improve their techniques. Tanjiro, in particular, showed remarkable progress and you couldn't help but feel proud of him.

"Tanjiro-san, you're improving at an astonishing rate!" You praised him.

"It's all thanks to everyone here, including you," he replied with a grin.

One of the things that made you happiest was being able to help others. You had a big heart and always went out of your way to offer assistance, even when it wasn't necessary. Seeing others improve and achieve their goals gave you a sense of fulfilment that was hard to describe.

"You too Inosuke-san, well done!" You gave his arm a genuine squeeze, acknowledging his effort.

Inosuke mumbled something behind his mask, but you could sense the delight in his tone.

Zenitsu, on the other hand, couldn't help but interject.

"But what about me,” he whined. "Am I improving too?"

"Well, Zenitsu-san, you're definitely...trying," you said diplomatically.

Zenitsu pouted, clearly hoping for more praise, but you knew he had a lot of work to do before he could truly become a skilled demon slayer.

Despite his flaws, however, you couldn't help but feel a soft spot for him. You looked around the training grounds and realised you needed to get back to your research.

"I'll leave you all to your training," with a wave goodbye, you turned and walked away while they bowed in response.

As you strode, you heard the sound of yelling and pleading coming from inside the mansion.

Your curiosity piqued, you quickened your pace and soon noticed droplets of blood on the hardwood floor. Your hand instinctively reached for the hilt of your sword.

Running, you followed the trails of blood and desperate cries, your heart racing with fear and anticipation. Finally, you skidded to a stop, frozen at the sight before you.

Genya had always been aware of the risks that came with being a demon slayer. But this particular demon had been stronger than he had anticipated and had managed to inflict injuries that were more severe than he was used to.

Genya relied on consuming the flesh of other demons to heal his own wounds, but this time he had not been successful in consuming a single thing from the demon. This lack of regeneration made the wounds even more excruciating and difficult to deal with.

Despite the pain, his first thought was to find you, the medical expert who could treat his injuries. He knew that he needed your help to heal and get back on his feet. With that in mind, he had managed to make his way to the mansion, gritting his teeth through the pain as he focused on reaching you.

Naho, Kiyo, and Sumi trembled in fear as Genya strode through the gates of the Butterfly Mansion, paying no heed to his open wounds.

He was stubborn to reach you. He trusted only you to treat him or even touch him.

Blood dripped from his wounds, leaving a trail on the floorboards of the mansion as he made his way towards your office. He ignored the cries of the three girls, driven solely by the hunger to reach you.

“You’re dripping blood on the floor, please stop!” Naho begged.

“Let us help you, Genya-sama, it will only get worse!” Kiyo added.

“Shut up,” he snarled. He didn't mean to sound so hostile, but he needed to reach you without distractions.

The sound of the girls’ screams echoed in Genya’s ears as he shoved his way towards your office, ignoring the pain that shot through his body with every step.

His hand left bloody smears on the door as he pushed it open, desperate to find you. But when he stumbled into the room, he found it empty.

His vision was blurry, and he was seeing spots, the pain almost unbearable. He staggered backwards, using the wall to steady himself as he tried to call out for you.

Suddenly, he heard the skid of someone stopping behind the three girls who were still screaming in terror. He turned his head, his eyes fixing on you as you stood there with your hand on the hilt of your sword.

You were frozen in place, clearly shocked by the bloody and battered figure of him.

“Genya Shinazugawa!” You gasped in shock, your hand instinctively flying to cover your mouth.

You gently moved Sumi out of the way to reach him. As you got closer, you saw the bloody handprints on the door and the exhaustion on Genya's face. Your heart sank at the sight of his injuries.

“Please prepare the first aid materials in the infirmary,” you commanded the three girls, they ran quickly.

"Genya, what happened?" You asked, your voice trembling with concern as you took a closer look at him.

“Demon,” he said softly. “In a lotta pain,” he added.

You nodded, your mind already racing with what needed to be done. "Let’s get you cleaned up,” you said.

You gently took Genya's hand and led him towards the infirmary, careful not to aggravate his wounds. Despite the excruciating pain he must have been experiencing, he stiffened at the sudden contact. You noticed this and quickly dropped your hand, apologising, "Sorry, I should have asked."

Genya grabbed your hand and held it tightly. "No," he said, "I liked it."

Your eyes widened at his bold statement, and a blush crept onto your face. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you led him into the infirmary.

After a few hours of tending to Genya's wounds, he finally succumbed to exhaustion and fell into a deep slumber.

You sat by his bedside, watching over him as he slept. As you gazed at him, you noticed how peaceful he looked, with his breathing slow and steady.

With your heightened senses, you slowly turned to catch a glimpse of a white-haired man standing silently by the door.

He lifted his index finger to his lips, signalling for you to stay quiet.

You nodded in understanding, still surprised by his unexpected arrival.

He sat himself softly on Genya's bed and pressed a kiss onto his forehead. Your eyes widened as you pieced together the resemblance between the two of them.

Sanemi Shinazugawa left a kiss on his brother's forehead.

After Sanemi finished looking at his brother, satisfied with the amount of care given to him, he walked towards you and whispered in your ear, “Thank you.” He then walked out of the room.

The next morning, you decided to bring breakfast to Genya, wanting to compensate for his sore body with a meal served in bed. As you entered the room, you found him sitting up and staring out of the window, watching the lush trees dance in the fresh air.

"Good morning," you greeted him with a beautiful smile, holding a tray of food in your hands.

"Mornin’," he grumbled, his voice still heavy with sleep.

You couldn't help but feel a little flustered at the sound of his voice.

"I brought you some food," you said, making your way to him. "May I sit?" you gestured towards the bed.

"Feel free," he replied softly.

You sat down next to him and placed the food on his lap, pouring a glass of water from his side table. Genya was about to grab a spoonful of food for himself, but you gave him a warning glance.

"What?" he looked confused.

You took the spoon from his fingers and guided it to his mouth, feeding him yourself.

His face turned bright red as he promptly covered it with his large hand, grabbing your wrist. "I can feed myself," he whispered.

"I know," you replied with a teasing smile. "But I can't help enjoy seeing you blush.”

He stared at you intently, as if searching for something in your eyes.

“You need to eat, Genya-san,” you reminded him.

He opened his mouth and you brought the spoonful of food towards him. He gratefully accepted it and sighed in satisfaction after swallowing it. Then, you brought the glass of water to his cracked lips.

Water escaped from his mouth and dribbled down his chin. You quickly wiped it away with your thumb, but as soon as your skin made contact with his, you felt a jolt run through you. You looked up at him and noticed that his eyes had clouded over and his ears were red.

"I'M SO JEALOUS!" Zenitsu exclaimed loudly.

"Shut up!" Inosuke swatted Zenitsu’s head.

Genya turned his attention to the door, where Zenitsu, Inosuke, and Tanjiro were peeking in.

"Get. The. Fuck. Out!" Genya bellowed, his patience clearly wearing thin.

"Nezuko-chan," you said while sitting on the engawa, gently smoothing out her hair. She was lying on your lap as the two of you basked in the moonlight.

She let out an enthusiastic hum, and her small hands reached up to grasp yours, nuzzling her cheek against your palm.

The gesture made your heart swell with warmth, and you couldn't help but think that this is how Kanae-sama must have felt when you were younger.

You chuckled softly as you noticed Genya’s attempting to spy on the two of you from the hallways of the mansion. "Ganya-san thinks I can't see him spying on us," you said with amusement.

He made his presence even more obvious by speaking up, "Ya know you got a demon on your lap, right?" he said.

"I am most aware," you smiled at him.

The moonlight highlighted your features even more, making you look ethereal.

"Why do you smile," he asked, his curiosity piqued. "When you feel so angry all the time?"

His sudden analysis caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but feel a little surprised.

Nezuko gazed up at you, her eyes full of curiosity and admiration. You couldn't help but think of Kanae-sama and how she used to play with your hair in the same way you were now with Nezuko.

Genya's words had stirred up memories of Kanae-sama and the pain of her loss came flooding back. Your throat started to tighten, and tears welled up in your eyes. "Fuck," Genya was taken aback by your sudden change in attitude.

Nezuko's sudden embrace took you by surprise. You cried hard on her shoulder, the memories of Kanae-sama and the pain of losing her flooded back to you. Your tears wet her kimono, but she didn't seem to mind. It was as if she understood your pain, despite being a demon.

Genya watched with a mixture of confusion and concern. He had never seen this side of you before, and it made him realise how little he knew about you. He always saw you as the kind-hearted person with a beautiful smile on your face, always ready to help anyone in need.

It was difficult for him to see you in so much pain, and he didn't know how to comfort you.

He hesitantly placed a hand on your head, and you made a muffled sound of surprise from the sudden touch. You turned around and looked at him through your wet lashes, tears still running down your cheeks.

“I got you,” he said, looking you in the eyes and giving you soft smile.

He sat down next to you, allowing his shoulder to touch yours. You felt a flutter in your chest at the contact and didn't dare move, afraid the moment might end.

You looked down to check on Nezuko, she had fallen asleep in your embrace.

Genya's took your hand in his, it was so warm in yours as he ran his thumb along your knuckles.

You leaned your head on his shoulder, enjoying the feeling of being close to him as you both gazed up at the night sky.

“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” You asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

Genya shifted slightly, looking down at you. "Yeah," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "So beautiful."

Two months had passed since Genya started his frequent check-ups, and your relationship had blossomed into something beautiful. You found comfort and joy in each other's company, and Genya seemed to have found a sense of purpose being around you.

On this particular day, the two of you were sitting on the engawa, overlooking the stunning garden of the butterfly mansion. The fragrant scent of flowers wafted through the air, and the gentle rustling of leaves added to the serene atmosphere.

You had previously mentioned to Genya that you would meditate for two hours a day, and he had expressed interest in joining you.

Sitting in silence, Genya found it increasingly difficult to stay still. His legs were losing feeling, his nose was itching, and he was just so close yet so far from you. It was pissing him off that he couldn't hold your hand, kiss your forehead, or have you play with his hair.

As he tried to resist the urge to sneeze, Genya's nose continued to twitch uncontrollably. He was growing increasingly uncomfortable sitting in silence next to you, struggling to maintain stillness during meditation. He wanted nothing more than to hold your hand, feel the warmth of your touch, or have you play with his hair. But he knew that any movement on his part would break the stillness of the moment.

Despite his discomfort, he refused to touch his nose. He had noticed that you had an amazing sense of spatial awareness, and he didn't want to risk breaking the peaceful atmosphere with even the slightest movement. So, he tried to hold on as long as possible, hoping the sneeze would subside on its own.

It did not, it only got worst.

He slowly opened one eye, feeling a bit apprehensive about disturbing your meditation, but then he couldn't resist the urge to steal a glance at you. However, he quickly regretted it when he realised that you were already staring back at him, a small smile on your face.

"Have you been starin’ at me all this fucken time?" he snarled.

"Yep," you chirped.

"You little-" Genya was about to say something but you jumped up, giggling, and ran towards the garden.

As you both tumbled to the grass, laughter filled the air. You could feel the soft blades of grass tickling your skin as Genya playfully pinned you down, his weight making it impossible for you to move. You looked up at him, his chest heaving from the chase, his eyes burning with mischief.

You playfully pouted, pretending to be upset that Genya had caught you, but your smile gave you away.

Genya couldn't help but notice the pout on your lips, and his eyes flickered back and forth between your eyes and mouth. He hesitated for a moment, unsure whether he should make a move, but before he could do anything, you took the initiative.

You pulled him towards you and pressed your lips against his.

He was frozen at first, hands grabbing chunks of grass in an attempt to restrict himself, but he couldn't resist your allure. You whispered his name, which undid him, and he responded by deepening the kiss.

As the kiss broke, both of you were left breathless. Genya looked into your eyes, his gaze intense and filled with emotion. Without a word, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you, while he pulled you onto his lap.

For a few moments, both of you remained entranced in each other's presence, the world around you fading away as your hearts beat as one.

#pxob #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #demon slayer x reader #genya shinazugawa #genya x reader #genya x fem reader #soft genya #genya fluff #genya angst #tanjiro kamado #inosuke hashibira #zenitsu agatsuma #nezuko kamado #angel eyes

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trailingoff · 9 months

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Aziraphale’s religious trauma

I’m sure others have discussed this in a lot of depth, but I can’t help throwing my hat in the ring. Aziraphale has major religious trauma after spending his entire very long existence as a member of a cult. If you’ve never experienced what it’s like to be indoctrinated into a religion, then it might be very hard to understand why he behaves the way he does, so I’ll try to lay it out for you.

Anyone who was raised from early childhood to believe that an all-powerful being is watching them as though they’re in a panopticon (a jail where prisoners are watched by authorities at random moments) and will severely punish them and/or their loved ones if anyone steps out of line (or just on a whim or based on a bet with Satan) either has experienced religious trauma or has somehow avoided it, perhaps through repression or retreating into themselves and managing to ignore what the adults were telling them. Another way to avoid the trauma is to continue to believe that the cult is ‘good’ and that those outside it are ‘bad’ and should seek redemption, forgiveness and salvation.

Not only does Aziraphale have this trauma, but it’s also based on reality in the GO universe. I was able to live with mine by realising that there is no empirical evidence for religious beliefs, by studying philosophy, by having therapy, and by reflecting on it for years. The trauma can still be triggered in me, leading to panic that God might be watching and judging me, and that an afterlife might exist, but luckily I’m now able to move through the panic relatively quickly. Aziraphale can’t do any of this because the beliefs of his cult are all too real. There really is a massively powerful (hopefully not all-powerful, but he believes she is) being who watches and judges him and everyone else at random moments. She has either directly ordered her angels to slaughter babies and children or has stood by and watched them do it. She has severely punished someone Aziraphale cares about, Crowley, who from that moment has been in a situation where he continues to be tortured by his fellow demons with no intervention from God and who simultaneously risks being destroyed by demons, by angels, by humans wielding sacred weapons (e.g. holy water) or by his own hand.

And so Aziraphale suffers from both religious trauma and the trauma of living under a real authoritarian dictatorship. This dictatorship is seemingly unbeatable and eternal, and it possesses weapons more powerful than the biggest nuclear weapons, more powerful than the sun, really more powerful than anything we humans can imagine.

Thousands of years ago, Crowley was kicked out in an extremely painful way, and he suffers his own trauma from that. He clearly doesn’t want Aziraphale to go through all of that, yet he wants Aziraphale to join him on ‘their own side’. At the end of the previous season, I thought Aziraphale was all in. I was happy to leave it at that ... even though it isn’t a realistic depiction of someone dealing with the particular types of trauma that Aziraphale has experienced and continues to experience.

Aziraphale and Crowley are still in constant grave danger, and they’re still living in God’s panopticon. That can’t just be hand-waved away. As we’ve seen this season, at any moment their fragile peace can be disrupted by a situation that puts them in danger of being harmed to the extent of being wiped from existence. They can’t actually just go to Alpha Centauri and it will all be cool. (And what would they do there for eternity anyway ...?) But yeah there is no way to escape from God, nowhere in the universe that God isn’t capable of supervising -- that’s real, not something Aziraphale merely has faith in, as humans understand belief in God. Aziraphale isn’t the equivalent of a human priest or a theologian or a cult member: he is a supernatural being created by a much more powerful supernatural being.

Perhaps there are only two ways for Aziraphale to deal with his trauma: 1) He realises that God and the Heavenly Host can be defeated. 2) He realises that they can be permanently altered in a positive way.

At the end of season two, Aziraphale seems to believe he is being given the opportunity to bring about option 2. We don’t know if he has a plan or a vision for this, but for the first time he thinks he has a chance. Perhaps best of all, he has the opportunity to protect Crowley -- permanently! Imagine how anxious Aziraphale must have been, for thousands of years, that Crowley would be destroyed. It could have happened at any time, near or far from Aziraphale. Crowley faces dangers on all sides and also does foolish (from Aziraphale’s perspective) things like good deeds under the influence of laudanum and a heist so he can handle holy water. Crowley breaks and bends rules in ways that could kill him: Aziraphale isn’t catastrophising. This isn’t the same as a religious loved one telling you that you’re going to hell for sinning. Crowley has already been tortured in hell, and he could be tortured there forever, or he could be turned into an oily black puddle, or removed from the book of life etc etc.

What Aziraphale doesn’t understand yet is that Crowley can’t be an angel again and still be the Crowley that Aziraphale loves. He also doesn’t see Crowley as an equal. If they’re going to take on heaven and bring down God’s dictatorship, they are going to have to do it as Aziraphale and Crowley, working in partnership, wielding the immense power of their love.

#good omens #good omens spoilers #aziraphale #crowley #religious trauma

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mistyresolve · 1 year

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| Hostage - Simon “Ghost” Riley x Reader

Word count - 1.9K

Summary - When y/n is taken hostage because she is their combat analyst and knows a significant amount of information in regards to the 141, Ghost goes ballistic. Driven by fear and anger he locates you and is able to rescue you but the fear lingers and he struggles to wrestle his feelings back down.

Warnings/Tags - Violence and blood, allusions to a brief panic attack

A/N - I’m thinking of doing an epilogue to this but I’m really on the fence

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Ghost feared very little. Knew that very little could actually kill him, and even fewer people could do the same. He knew he wasn’t invincible, and someday his luck would run out. Someday his heart would stop, and his blood would run cold. He couldn’t run from the inevitable; thus, he welcomed death with open arms like one would an old friend. He didn’t have a death wish though. He was merely passive towards it. Sometimes he liked the thrill a brush with death gave him. It reminded him he was alive, that his heart did indeed beat like everyone else’s.

When it came to you, it was an entirely different story. The very idea of you being hurt, and dying, scared the shit out of him. The thought of you leaving him behind plagued him. Even in his sleep, nightmares of you taking your last breaths in his arms would force him from sleep. He’d spend the rest of the night watching you sleep, watching your chest rise and fall, feeling the heat radiating from your skin. He feared for the day he wasn’t able to protect you.

A day like today.

“Ghost,” Price spoke slowly and low like he was talking to a wide animal. Which wasn’t that far off, “We’ll get them back, we just need more information. We can’t run in there blind and deaf.”

Price might as well have been talking to a brick wall because all Ghost could hear was ringing. An incessant, grating sound that shrouded him from all sense and reason. He remained utterly silent, seeth in his own wrath. The wrath he was sure to bring down on everyone and anyone who stood in his way. The 141 was well aware of this and stood aside as Ghost stalked to the door, his shoulders rolled and taut ready for a fight. He had turned so wholly maniacal that even Soap was disturbed by the look in his eye and backed down. Ghost went AWOL, but the 141 provided as much support as they could. They were able to give him updates and new information over the radio, but they were never able to catch up with his unrelenting pace. Instead, they only stumbled over his messes. Their own anxiety and unease about the meaning behind it all grew. It was as if humanity abandoned him as he tracked—No. As he hunted down the men who took you, smelling their blood in the air and following the scent. Ghost spared no one. If someone wasn't giving him the information he’d slay them and move to the next. If the next person wasn’t giving him information fast enough they were executed.

When he finally located you, you were in a warehouse, he communicated back into the radio for the first time to tell the rest of the 141.

The captors had yet to start drawing blood, but only because they were trying a psychological approach. It had already been three hours. Three very long hours. You were a combat analyst, you weren’t a trained soldier like the 141. And you sure as hell wasn’t prepared for something like this. He didn’t let himself think too hard about the possibilities. He didn’t let himself think about the probability of finding you dead inside the warehouse. You had crucial information on the 141 that they wanted, and he could only hope that information was keeping you alive.

He slaughtered his way into the building, leaving nothing but carnage behind him. When he got visuals on you, alive, he nearly collapsed. Not completely unharmed though.

You were soaked from waterboarding. They had used ice-cold water, and somehow it was colder still. The big industrial fans hanging from the roof blew cool air, but it was only amplified tenfold for you. He could hear your shivering, see how your lips had turned a scary shade of blue. Your hair stuck to your face in wet clumps. Your hands were bound to a chair, your fingers curling into your palms in search of any warmth. Your eyes burned holes into whoever stood in front of you.

“Where. Are. The 141. Hiding?” Your captor asked again, the same question he’s been asking from the very beginning. He forced your head back, getting ready to place the towel. He hadn’t gotten anything out of you yet, but he could tell you were breaking.

You bit out a smile, although it was more of an act of you baring your teeth at him, “Go to hell,” Your teeth chattered, despite your best efforts. Before the captor could place to sopping towel back over your face he emerges.

It’s almost as if Ghost was made from the shadows themselves with the way he seems to materialize out of them. The way they clung to him. He couldn’t remember losing his handgun, but at some point, he’d resorted to knives.

You knew he wasn’t here for your blood but alarms and warnings went off in your very bones. They screamed, Danger! Danger!

Ghost was every bit his reputation at this moment. His eyes were wide and unseeing. His movements were swift and snappy like elastics were snapping in his limbs. He’d taken his time when he dragged the blade across the man's throat, wanting to keep him alive to feel every ounce of agony at his life quite literally drained from him.

The speed at which he moved in front of you almost made you think him inhuman. He uncuffed you and pulled you into his arms, squeezing you hard enough that you thought he was going to break bones. He was panting, almost unable to catch his breath. You could almost smell his fear; that and the blood that was surely hiding among the black dye of his clothes.

You repeatedly murmured, “I’m okay. I’m okay,” into his shoulder. Not sure if you were comforting him, or yourself. Both, you very quickly realized. As whatever came over him in those few hours of your life in danger, ebbed from his veins, he finally, finally returned to his body. Before it had felt like he was watching himself from outside his body, watching himself from someone else perceptive. Someone may have thought he wasn’t a mundane soldier, but a vessel for whatever god wished to experience true unchecked rage.

But he was human.

He felt true terror today, and his body was starting to feel the effects of it. He kept repeating, “I’m sorry,” like they were the only words he could remember. His body began to tremble uncontrollably, and his skin felt too tight and itchy. You let him hold you, let him feel your heartbeat against his.

The 141 arrived with a medic. Simon immediately stepped aside, allowing the professional to assess you. She’d immediately announced hypothermia and called for a medevac. She’d wrapped a reflective blanket around your shoulders and removed her own jacket and put it on top.

Once Simon was completely and utterly sure you were in good hands, he’d stumbled to the wall, choosing a spot where he was obscured from your view. Everyone’s view. He’d fallen to his knees then, his strength leaving him. They cracked against the concrete, but he welcomed the sharp pain. He’d lifted his mask and thrown up.

It had been a long, long while since he’d had a reaction like this. Where panic and hysteria claimed him. Guilt and self-loathing suffocated him. Filled his chest, and bubbled up into his throat.

He let this happen. He wasn’t careful enough. He got too comfortable.

And this was the result.

It was his fault.

His fault. His fault. His fault.

He clenched his jaw, fighting back hot tears. He leaned his back against the wall, rested his arms on his knees, and let his head hang between his legs. If circumstances were different he would have crawled into the safety of your arms and begged you to make this feeling stop. To make it go away. It was a selfish thought, he knew that. Knew that you were one who needed comfort and reassurance right now. Knew that you needed him just as much, but he didn’t want you to see this. For if you looked into his eyes, you’d be faced with the reality that he truly had had no idea what to do. He came looking with no plan and hardly any direction. He’d once again gotten lucky by following breadcrumbs and whispers to find you.

He almost lost you.

You were alive, yes, but what if he’d come an hour later? A minute?

The 141 knew where he was. Had watched him as he melted back into the shadows, but respected Simon’s silent request for solitary. They understood that he needed to wade through these emotions on his own and that no matter what they said or did wasn’t going to fix it.

When he heard the familiar sound of a chopper overhead he forced himself to collect himself. Allowing himself 10 more seconds before remasking, and finding you. The medic and Price were escorting you to the front doors.

“Simon,” Soap appeared at his side, Ghost jerked his attention to him, “There is nothing you could have done differently.”

He didn’t say anything, but his silence was enough for Soap to understand that he disagreed. With that, he made his way over to you taking Price’s place at your side.

You were still shaking but you held your head high with your shoulders squared. Simon could have cried at the sight. To see you were defiant in the face of it all was enough to ease the tiniest bit of worry from his shoulders. He knew you weren’t totally unaffected and it was going to take you years to repair the damages, but here you were walking out of this building on your own two feet.

The medic tried to tell him he couldn’t come with but he downright refused to leave you, “Try and tell me no.”, and she must have known immediately she wasn’t going to win because she let him in anyway.

He held your hand in his the entire flight to the nearest hospital, eyes darting about. He stayed at your side the entire time you were in the hospital too. He slept in the chair beside your bed, or at least pretended to until you drifted off into sleep, but was wide awake and alert for the rest of the night. Only leaving when Soap came for a visit the next day with clothes for him, telling him he’d take the next shift. Simon changed and came right back to the room. Only this time when he sat in the chair with the hood of his sweater pulled over his head, did he sleep. Finding some solace in knowing Soap was here too.

Tomorrow he was going to have a meeting with Price about his insubordination. And about the ramage he went on. Tomorrow he was going to have to tell Price about how he’d completely lost himself, didn’t even remember half of it.

Epilogue

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A/N - Price isn’t mad, he’s worried

#simon ghost riley #simon riley #simon ghost riley drabble #simon ghost riley angst #cod x reader #cod fanfic #cod ghost #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon riley x you #cod x y/n #mw2 x reader #ghost mw2 #mw2 #MistyGhosties

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schlattsdoll · 2 years

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Heyhey! Can I ask you about headcanons (or whatever you feel like writing, the format isn't really a problem) of Eddie with a girlfriend who shares the same interests as him, like she loves metal music and knows well how to play D&D and she's also strong and often snap at Jason and people who talk shit about him?

I need some comfort :')

his other half - e. munson

:pairing: eddie munson x popular!fem! reader

:warnings: minors dni, eddie being a menace to society and we love him for it , mentions of bullying (typical s4 faire for our beloved freak), semi-popular reader not fitting into cliche’s, you are responsible for your own media consumption!

:a/n: i have limited d&d knowledge so please be kind if i got something wrong! i made a whole ass character sheet trying to help :’( also i made a heather’s reference bc i can’t be helped

it was hard to believe that the resident freak bagged one of hawkins golden children, and yet here you were; thursday nights spent in an old drama class room helping eddie run his sadistic campaigns over his party.

they couldn’t tell who had a worse mean streak, sure eddie was brutal, but you? when you helped him dm, it was a match made in hell for the party.

“holy shit dude. we haven’t been slaughtered like that since the first week of vecna’s campaign.” dustin said, looking down at the miniatures laying on their sides

you really did try and be nice and save them. with a deep sigh you changed your tone from your dm voice to the mom friend they’ve grown to love. “um, everyone, make a death saving throw.”

all the d20s on the table added up to a whopping fifteen. eddie smirked at you and sat back down on his throne. “and that, my dear gentlemen, is why you shouldn’t complain about my campaigns. my queen wrote this one all herself.” he kissed you quickly as he pulled you into his lap and then dismissed the club.

the next day at lunch they were all still talking about how brutal you were. “can’t believe little miss sunshine has a mean streak like that.” “what did you expect? she’s eddie’s girl. they’re practically the same person.”

smiling as you made your way to your favorite freaks, you feel someone tap your shoulder to see jason staring down at you. “can i help you?”

“y/n, why do you hang around those freaks so much? you’re too pretty and popular for them. come sit with who you belong with. got a spot on my lap with your name on it.” he winked and you audibly gagged.

“news flash jason, i enjoy my freaks, and i’m proud to be one. i love d&d, i love metallica and crue, and frankly, i love not being harassed by the men i surround myself with. so run along and go back to the future gas station attendants of america club, and i’ll be happy over here with my nerds.”

eddie walked up behind you, only heating half the conversation. when you felt his arms wrap around you, you eased into his touch and jason scoffed and walked away. “bitch.”

you rolled your eyes and laughed as you and eddie walked back to the hellfire table. “princess, that was hot as fuck.” your boyfriend smiled at you in awe of how you stood up to his tormentor.

you were truly the momma bear of the outcasts, not afraid to defend them with your life if you had too. eddie and his “sheep” as he lovingly called them were the most targeted and it struck a nerve with you every time.

“just wait until he says something about you or the kids again. you’ll see how hot i can get.”

#eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson headcanons #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #joseph quinn #eddie munson x female reader

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amomentsescape · 8 months

Text

Wrong Place, Right Time

Billy Loomis x Reader

Summary: Billy wanted nothing more than to add four more teens to his killing list. However, you were the last one he expected to be there.

Warnings: Violence & death, fluff

Word Count: 1,231

A/N: It felt right to kick off my Slasher Summer writings with Billy. He's been a long time favorite of mine, and it just felt right. As a reminder, I am taking any and all requests. If you have a slasher you'd like me to write for, let me know!

He could already feel the adrenaline coursing through his body. He was practically shaking as he slowly crept in through the back door of a ridiculously decked out house.

"Idiots," he muttered. The people who lived here didn't even bother locking the door.

As he finally made his way inside, he could hear chatter and heavy music making its way from upstairs.

Billy smiled as he listened.

Word had clearly spread that there was some psycho murderer making their way around the area. It only seemed right for people to ban together at night, hoping that the large gathering would deter a killer from attacking.

But clearly this group wasn't being too cautious. Leaving the door unlocked and having the stereo on high wasn't exactly rule number one in any "how to stay alive in a horror movie" pamphlet.

With this being said, the group was doing at least one thing right.

They were all together in the same room.

This was going to make Ghostface's job a little more difficult, but not impossible by any means.

He quickly turned back towards the door and signaled that he was ready.

Stu nodded back at him, having been waiting outside for his cue.

Billy smiled as he watched Stu disappear. And that smile only grew when the lights all cut out, sending everyone into a hush.

He slowly made his way up the stairs in the dark, being careful not to make any sound.

He was close enough now that he could make out voices whisper-shouting to each other. One person finally groaned out a "fine" as they left the rest of the group.

Billy considered this for a moment and realized that they were likely heading outside to the electrical panel.

He let out a frustrated sigh at this, knowing that he was going to have to go after them quickly. Stu promised not to get in the way this time.

This was his night.

As he heard the front door slam shut, Billy continued his way upstairs. He'd deal with them later.

It didn't take long to get through the group. There were only three others besides whoever left.

Ghostface jumped out from the darkness and quickly stabbed the throat of some teenage boy he had seen once or twice in the halls of their high school.

The other two girls quickly jumped up and screamed as they witnessed their friend being slaughtered right before their eyes.

One headed for the front door, but he was quick to grab onto her hair and throw her hard against the ground. The wind was suddenly knocked from her and she barely had time to gasp out when the metal blade punctured into the middle of her chest.

She shook out a few spasms and coughed up blood before her eyes quickly glazed over.

Ghostface stood back up and made his way down the hall, having seen the second girl sprint in that direction just moments before.

He felt pretty confident as he walked, already knowing where she was hiding.

Only one door was closed and if Stu and him had mapped it out correctly, it was a small bathroom with a window barely big enough to fit a child through.

"Too easy," he muttered to himself.

With a few swift kicks, the door swung open to an empty room- or so one would think.

As he tore open the shower curtain, the girl jumped up and tried to slash him with a pair of pointed scissors she had found.

She was too slow however, and Billy was quick to grab her arm and throw her body against the tiled wall.

He grabbed her head forcefully and slammed it over and over before finally using his knife to finish the job.

Easy work, he thought.

With that, he suddenly heard yelling coming from downstairs.

"Guys?"

This made Billy freeze up.

That voice. How did he not recognize it sooner?

He slowly crept his way to the top of the stairs, carefully peaking over as to not be seen. And that's when he realized it was you.

For the first time that night, Billy was scared.

You were the only one that got to see a genuine smile from the boy, the only one who Billy thought was worth living.

You both had a couple of classes together, but neither of you said much to one another. Billy had to keep up his persona with Sidney, and he didn't trust himself to do that around you.

You were much too pretty and smart to talk to anyways.

Billy had overheard conversations you'd have with some of your friends during lunch or in between classes.

You loved the same horror movies as him and always glowed when talking about your favorite characters.

He couldn't help but smile almost every day while watching you, taking in every little quirk and laugh you'd let out.

Billy had no choice but to become smitten with you.

And this is why his dilemma left him at a standstill.

He didn't want to kill you. No, he couldn't kill you. You were just too precious in his world full of anger and pain.

But what was his other option? He just killed your friends.

In his defense, he'd seen you talk to these people once or twice at school. He didn't realize you actually liked them. He may be a murderer, but he's not heartless. He didn't want to kill anyone that you cared about. But it was a little late for apologies.

"Fuck," he whispered to himself.

As you stood at the bottom level, looking around for your friends, you began to hear footsteps descending the stairs.

You quickly spun to the side and saw him.

Ghostface.

Your jaw dropped as if preparing for a scream, but no sound made its way out.

What was the point anyways? Your friends were likely all dead, and that meant there was no one else to hear your screams for help.

But if he was going to kill you, he sure was taking his sweet time.

He was walking so slowly towards you. If it weren't for the current circumstance, you would have almost thought he was trying not to scare you.

As he got closer, you began to back away from him.

You kept going until your body hit the cold wall behind you.

This was it.

He finally found himself about a foot away from you, staring through you with whatever eyes were behind that mask.

Your breath hitched and your eyes began to water. Fear overcame you as you realized that you were going to die.

As the tears began to drip down your face, Ghostface closed the gap.

He raised his hand up towards you, and you flinched away knowing that he was going to grab you by the throat and crush the wind from your lungs.

However, this wasn't what happened.

You felt the leather glove softly graze against your cheek. You carefully tipped your head back in his direction, your brows furrowing.

"W-what are you-"

His hand suddenly caressed your face, his thumb running over the wet spots your tears left behind.

You watched his shoulders sag a bit, as if he finally let go of a breath he had been holding.

And without a moment to process what was happening, he disappeared into the darkness.

#billy loomis imagine #billy loomis preference #billy loomis x reader #billy loomis #ghostface x reader #ghostface #scream #scream franchise #scream movie #scream 1996 #slashers x reader #slasher preference #slashers #slasher fandom #slasher summer

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skyjasper · 2 months

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The Devil and I

Reader X Azriel

Summary: the time for war has come, yet her powers have not. What will she do when everyone she loves, including her mate, is suffering on the battlefield below.

Warnings: gore, violence, light NSFW, talks of sex.

A/N: ik yall wanted a new AZ one shot soooo here you are :))) this is based off of the song Me and the Devil. If you wanna check out my other works you can do so here:

Masterlist.

Word count: 1.07 K (short IK)

~~~~~~~~~~~~

The war raged on the battlefield below her, screams of agony wailing through the wind. She was completely powerless as her mate fought. She watched her high lord cast waves of his power, killing multiple as he engaged in combat. She was on her knees, hands digging into the land below her. She heard Azriels roaring scream all the way from her cliff top.

“Please Mother. I beg for some forgiveness, please give me a tool to help fight. We are losing, I can’t stand by. Please Mother, grant me the powers that were stolen from you by my ancestors for promise I will return it.” She whispered into the grass with her head bowed.

Something tugged on her hands, pulling her fingers into the land. A small scream escaped her before the rest of her was covered with roots and dirt. Her body was pulled deep into the ground, small bugs crawling over her. She couldn’t scream, couldn’t move as something forced its way down her mouth.

Dirt and dust filled her body, humming as if to say if you want power so bad then have it. Then her body was being forced out of the ground, new things adorned her body. Cufflinks made of root and tree wrapped itself around her arms. Her former clothing, now replaced by a garment made of leaves and flowers, covering the most delicate parts of her.

Vines raked up her legs and around her body, hounding her together. Her hair was now braided down her back with vines and flowers growing out of her hair, the top of her head was now adorned with a crown made of tree twigs and cones.

She felt the power flowing through her body, thrumming under her skin. A large root grew out of the ground where she stood, lifting her into the air. She felt more than heard the silence on both fronts. When she looked down she was met with a ground looking back at her. She stepped off the cliff, trusting her powers to allow roots to carry her to the ground. As her foot made contact with solid earth the war raged again.

Yet this time the screams were pointed towards her. The few who attempted to attack her were frozen in place with vines crawling over their feet. The vines and roots slithered up their bodies and down their mouths still opened in a scream. She watched as vines popped out of every crevice, their eyes, ears, noses, even through their pores. She absorbed their power as they were turned into dirt.

She heard Azriels loud grunt from her right. Her head snapped to the sound, eyes zeroing in on the perpetrator causing his pain. She tugged on the gold thread in between them. She walked quickly towards him, slaughtering anyone and everyone in her path. Her eyes were set on her mate and she would stop at nothing to get to him.

When she did get to him, his attacker was already headless. She turned to her mate, his blue siphons flaring as they made eye contact. She felt his pride and heat flow through the bond.

“My little huntress.” He whispered as he stalked to her.

The battle around them seemed to disappear as he neared. All she could hear was her heart beating out of her chest. Her hands reached into his hair when he got close enough. He smiled down at her with a predatory smirk, his shadows going crazy around him.

She smashed her lips to his blood covered lip. Her hands pulled on his hair as his hands met her back side. One of his arms stayed on her butt while the other snuck around her waist, pulling her closer. Rooting swirled over both of their feet as she let out a small moan.

“Show them what you’re made of. Show them exactly how strong you are. Remind them to never underestimate you ever again.” He whispered against her mouth.

His wings flared as one of her hands grazed their most sensitive spots.

“End this war. Once and for all?” She asked against his lips. With a wicked smirk he nodded.

A matching smirk fell upon her face as she lifted the two of them, slightly above the blood and gore. She turned, her back now flush with the shadowsingers front. She looked upon the masses and with a wicked smile she unleashed her power upon Hybern.

Multiple thick, stocky roots broke from the ground, obliterating anyone who stood on their ground. Thick ropes of ivy surrounded the other soldiers, squeezing until their body’s burst, blood rained upon the soldiers of Hybern.

New screams were heard, screams of cheer and victory rang out loud. Her power continued to flow, killing every last soldier. She found the king and wrapped him with a large root, carrying him to the feet of the oldest Archeron sister. Allowing her to exact her revenge.

The blood reached both her Azriel. She felt it pour down her face, over her leaves. She felt Azriels hand tighten around her waist and his lips making contact with her neck. She let her head roll onto Azriels shoulder as he kissed the most sensitive spot on her neck.

The war was over, they had won. She had obliterated Hybern, all for her mate. She gained power from the mother for her mate. She lowered the pair over to where all the high lords stood. Her head bowed to the powerful beings.

“Do not bow, girl. Stand tall, for you have just won.” Ameren spoke. Her voice was different, clearer now. She was unsure of what all happened in the fight, but she was sure of one thing. That she would no longer be weak.

The high lords offered her a hand. A voice of sorts. When she called upon the mother to return her power, she did not answer.

Keep it. I have no use for it. Find lands to raise, take care of the earth girl.

With a nod she shook each of their hands. Then she turned back to her mate, a look of exhaust in her eyes. He nodded with understanding, taking her hand and winnowing them to their tent in the woods.

It was there that he claimed her body, again and again. Their tent was now surrounded by trees and flowers.

“My huntress.” He whispered into her thighs.

“My hunter.” She responded.

~~~~~~~

A/N:

Here’s a short little one shot :) I absolutely love this one.

Taglist:

@littlelunatica @going-through-shit @annaaaaa88 @i-am-infinite @impossibellesliteraryloves

#azriel #acotar #sarah j maas #feyre archeron #nesta archeron #elain archeron #rhysand #feysand #azriel x reader #azriel x oc #mitski #fanfic #sjmaas #cassian #heartbreak #what tags do i use #batboys #illyrian

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reallyromealone · 9 months

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Can you make a separate au we’re the reader in, reader pretending to be an alpha and Bonten finds out so here it is (part2),

went feral (i heard that omega can become stronger than a alpha when their pushed to their limits)

I feel like the reader’s potential was wasted

I have been working on this for a while.

Literally only working on this when I was annoyed, I hope you enjoy reader getting to do what he deserves.

Warnings: murder, mentions of an attempted rape but not in any detail, carnage, chemical violence, drugging not mentioned explicitly, guns, knives, suicide

🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐🪐

When (name) awoke, he lunged.

Fully feral and filled with rage, he scratched takeomi's face, eye bleeding as (name) was pulled off and attention turned to his next targets.

Shakily he stood up and at that moment Bonten experienced the anger of a feral Omega.

(Name) was defiled and forcibly marked.

And he was going to murder everyone in this room.

Takeomi was holding his eye as (name) lunged at Kakucho, going for his throat and managing to get him down, the Alpha surprised at the difficulty he had keeping the omegas teeth away from his throat "this is now how it's supposed to go!" He yelled as the others managed to get him off, Sanzu grabbing the Tranquilizer gun they kept on hand and shot (name), the Omega passing out.

"Holy shit" Rindō looked horrified "what the fuck was that?!"

"An angry feral Omega" Koko mumbled equally startled.

When (name) awoke he found himself locked in a cell, the feral Omega pacing angrily as Bonten watched from the other side "what the fuck are we supposed to do?" Mochi said stressed as he glanced at the others "wait till he ends this tantrum" Mikey said simply and (name) wailed at the bars, actually shaking them as he glared at the others with a look none of them have quite seen.

His eyes were practically glowing in the darker parts of the cell, the men making sure their mate had the penthouses of cells, soft things only of course.

A feeble attempt to show the Omega they would care for him.

But (name) didn't want that.

He wanted bloodshed.

In a flicker of consciousness he managed to steal a knife off a guard who got to close to the cell, wanting to see the Omega up close.

He didn't believe the Omega was that dangerous, mumbling about the horrid things he wanted to do to him.

Now he was before (name), entering the cell not realizing (name) was armed.

Blood pooled the floor as he stole his gun and shirt and boots.

He was a Bonten higher up, he was going to show why he wasn't to be fucked with.

(Name) shot anyone who came into his line of sight, taking guns from those who he killed when bullets ran out of one gun and absolutely layed waste upon anyone who dare get close to him.

He was out to kill.

Bonten watched the cameras in horror, (name) was absolutely slaughtering everyone as he made his way up to the executives.

Then the cameras lost feed.

"Shit..." Takeomi and the others looked around as the power went out.

Now they no longer had to deal with an angry feral Omega.

But instead?

A coherent pissed person who wanted revenge.

And revenge (name) was going to fucking get.

Having gone to the weapons room and got what he would need.

(Name) didn't go through the main entrance, no no they would be expecting that.

He went through the vents, staring down at the panicked men and smiled, good.

They deserved fear.

They took away his life.

And he was going to take there's.

In his hands were a flash bomb, a smoke bomb and tear gas, throwing the flash bomb down first, then the smile then the tear gas he watched them scream in pain before putting the gas mask on and hoping down with weapons as he looked at the men desperately trying to get the gas out of their eyes and began his massicare, stabbing and killing those who brought him suffering.

Mikey was the last, witnessing (name) crack his neck before charging at him and due to the pain barely having time to recognize what was happening till (name) pushed him out a window, glass shattering and Mikey falling.

The last face he saw was the person he was going to make his mate.

The last thing he saw was (name) put a gun to his own mouth and fire as he was going to follow them right to hell and make sure they could never escape him.

#tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers x male reader #male reader #bonten x reader #omegaverse #omega male reader #angst

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yaut-jaknowit · 4 months

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So. Uihoy x Male Yautja (bottom) reader…

(Okay maybe it’s like a bit Mr. Preg… AAHH..)

Just the reader and him not both getting mates bc it’s that time of the year, but they both hate each other so they try to make fun of one another (one of them actually secretly likes the other and you can choose who), even get into a small fight which later turns into them getting too touchy bc of the heat. Shit gets crazy, rough sex, Like absolutely DOG pounding, breeding, size difference. I’m begging.

Hate Until You're Knotted

Pairing: Uihoy (Male Yautja) x M!Yautja!Reader

Word Count: 3259

Summary: You loathe Uihoy. He's top of the chain. He can get any female he wants. You, a lowly new blooded, have to scavenge and fight for just the taste or smell of a female. What does Uihoy do with this honor? Wastes it. He comes to you, out of his way, to find you.

Author Note: Don’t worry, I also want to get railed by Uihoy too. This is before Vic and Uie met since they were in a relationship before meeting reader. Gonna be honest, I unusually don't write Yautja x Yautja stuff but fuck, I loved writing this.

Masterlist

Ao3

Heavy, thick pheromones ran rampant through the village. Clouding everyone’s judgement, turning hunt brothers against each other. All in the name of breeding, continuing the bloodline. Only the strongest survive in a world designed to maul and slaughter the weak.

Like many of your sex, you were unsuccessful of gaining the favor of a female. A young, less scared male compared to those that have bested you in spars to near death. Anything to prove their worth for a chance to breed. Here you were, nursing your wounds, away from the dense population. There were a few others, scattered about like you, licking their wounds. You had chosen a high tree to pull yourself to the near top. From here, you could keep an eye on the crowd in the main square of the village.

Neon green blood dripped from wounds gained in battle against fierce opponents. As much as you hated to admit it, they were better, deserved whoever choose them after defeating you. Yes, there’s always next year for the season but only Cetanu could only tell if you would make it. Life was life. Death was death. You don’t know if you’ll be there to greet the next season.

Through it all, you caught a whiff of a scent that caused your blood to boil. Uihoy. The older Yautja was… arrogant in his own ways. Rude in others. Downright irritating if you must say. The male wasn’t one to mess with often. He did stick out like a sore thumb. His sexuality something that wasn’t popular among the Yautja kind. It did not produce offspring.

It is not frowned upon but discouraged. Yautjas were strong, mighty, and hunters. If males or females copulated with their own sex, the birth rate would decrease. Death was already high, especially for those that are young, learning.

Not that you had anything against mating with the same sex. No. But Uihoy was an icon for the village and he wasted his talents, his seed on something that wouldn’t produce anything. You scowled. How does a male like him not take pride in breeding with the females who are willing? You have to fight for your right while many females request him by name.

The tree shook from added weight. Your claws dug into the bark from the slight disturbance. Your head whipped down to find the face you wanted to cave in so badly closing in. Your jaw dropped behind closed mandibles at the sight. What the pauk is he doing? He knows I’m up here. This was purposeful.

Uihoy stopped to perch on a branch a foot above you, on the other side of the thick tree. A look of passiveness barely readable on his face. Not cocky. He knew his limits, where he stood on the chain of power within the village. Intelligent but respectful. He was about a hundred years from being deemed an elder. A title you believed he wouldn’t take. Not with the way he moves with ease.

Blazing eyes flicked between the cuts that marred your skin. You saw the way his chest rise with a deep breath. “Don’t speak,” you snapped at him and began to close up a cut along your thigh. The deepest, longest of any others. It required to be burned closed. You held your tongue when pain stung as the laser worked.

The purple Yautja snorted airily. “And why should I listen to you?” he asked, tilting his head to look at you over a mandible while exposing his neck. Your eyes twitched at the sight before narrowing on form. The laser was forgotten about and drove off course. You snarled and turned off the damned thing. Your jaw and lower mandibles jerked at the unneeded pain. Yet, in the moment, you steel your facial expressions the best possible. Uihoy didn’t need to see you weak, weaker than he saw you as younger male.

A scoffed then light scratching from nails digging into bark filled your ears. Before you had a chance to take notice was happening, Uihoy hopped over onto your branch and knelt next to you. Uihoy snatched the laser from your hands. “Youngling, you must pay attention or else you risk injuring yourself more,” he scolded and began to work on the rest of the wound.

If you didn’t want the laser to stray from its path, you willed yourself not to jerk away from him. His touch was prominently warm on your thigh. The hand not holding the welder was resting right above the wound, close to the apex of your legs.

Instantly, you blamed the scents that filled the air for the feeling growing in your stomach, for the way your cock roused in its sheath. It was the pheromones that clouded your judgment. Your jaw was locked, throat closed to stop any sounds from escaping.

Then, his hand shifted higher. You had enough.

You shoved the bigger Yautja away from you then your feet were underneath you. A glare settled on Uihoy, ready pounce if it came to it.

Uihoy nearly slipped off of the branch he was perched on but easily corrected the unbalance. He stood a fair distance away from you with a large grin on his face, tongue flickering out to smell the air. C’jit. His head lowered just enough he stared from underneath his brows. C’jit.

A drop of freezing water dripped down the length of your spine, then Uihoy sprung. The older Yautja could move. Fast. Faster than you were expecting. His body slammed into yours. Claws dug into your shoulders as his weight throw you backwards. Off the edge of branch and heading towards the ground closing in quickly.

To save yourself from pain of a mild fall, you twisted your body and latched onto the nearest branch. Your shoulder jarred, nearly pulling out of the socket at the weight of not only you but Uihoy gripping onto you as well. You release a snarl and kicked out a knee at Uihoy. The male grunted yet took the hit. His talons dug into the flesh of your shoulders, deeper and drawing rivets of blood. You growled and attempted to throw him off. Your one handed grip was weakening.

Your other hand latched onto thick bark as you held on. The purple Yautja snickered and lifted himself up enough to hold onto the same branch. This was your opportunity to kick him, using his body as a spring board and land on another branch further down. The leaves rattled at your landing. You lowered yourself into a ready position as Uihoy lifted himself and crouched as well.

Cocky but not, Uihoy held an aura of confidence around him. His body was lax enough to let his guard down. He did have the high ground and left you at a disadvantage. You didn’t let him take any opportunities to attack though.

The trunk of the tree was used as a foothold to launched yourself high up, above Uihoy. His eyes watched your actions, body moving into a position to take anything you served.

The first punch of the day was thrown, right at Uihoy’s beautiful face; ready to send him flying off of the tree. But the male ducked and counterstruck with a fist straight to your stomach. It almost sent you careening off the edge once more. Your claws dug in to steady yourself once more.

He eyed you up and down, scanning for points of weaknesses. The same thing you returned for the shy moment given to the two of you before the giants clashed again. He came at you this time with claws. The skimmed acrossed your chest, drawing trickles of blood down your sweaty skin. You couldn’t help the keen before returning the same fire at him.

Unlike the purple Yautja, you weren’t as lucky to draw blood. Uihoy was pushing hard, fast, throwing things you hadn’t even trained about at you. At points, it was dizzying. Now, you were just trying not to fall off or perish to him. He had every right to do so. It wasn’t against the code.

Your foot takes a step back but the way the branch dips means this was the end. Anymore and you could meet the ground harshly. When Uihoy takes a swing at your face, you lower yourself down to a crouch. The fist flies milliseconds later over your head. You spring and pushed with all of your force backwards.

Midair, you arch your back and force all of your weight over yourself. Then, your feet touch down on a branch on a different tree. It wavers at the sudden, new weight added to it but held strong enough for you to back up away from the oncoming purple Yautja.

From one branch to other trees, the two of you dance for what felt like hours. Possibly could’ve been. You only come to release the overwhelming scent from the mating grounds is faint when Uihoy pins you to the trunk of a tree. A grunt surpasses your throat, eyes clued onto his burning ones. Filled with fire. A fire you didn’t know what sourced from.

A firm hand had found its way to your throat, encasing it and keeping you to the trunk. Instantly, your body went lax. Uihoy could snap your neck before you had a chance to even raise a hand.

It was a stern, mighty gasp that held you. Yet, you didn’t fear it. Anger filled your veins at the fact this pauk-de was taunting, teasing you like prey. You had little chance to win against. It was idiotic to challenge him in the first place. It won’t cost you your life. Not while that fire blazed in his orange eyes.

The male leaned in and let his breath fan over your features, eyes blinking slowly. Your scales prickled. His tongue flickered out and tasted upon your skin. His hand tightened. The other palmed along your hip, nails creating divots in the flesh there. “There has been something about that has intrigued me since I first laid eyes upon you,” Uihoy chitters lowly next to your ear. You shivered, throat bobbing from a heavy swallow.

That’s when you smelt it. Heavy, thick in the air yet sweet to draw you in. N’dui’se. You felt the blood in your body screeching to a halt and immediately rushing towards your core. Unsure, uncontrolled, your own musk entered the air. It swirled, combed with Uihoy’s as the Yautja grunt and pressed harder on your hip.

All of your muscles strained into action to pin the male down. Uihoy locked his own down and kept you there. The claws attacked to the hand around a vital part of your being dug into flesh. He released a chest rumbling bellow of a warning. He had you. You could only watch as the male leaned back enough to find your eyes.

The other limb skimmed down just a couple of inches then grabbed a fistful of cloth. Your waistband was promptly ripped off in one go and absentmindedly tossed to the side. Before you could even squeak something pathetic, warm flesh palmed at the wetting slit close to the apex of your thighs. Your head was thrown back, exposing your neck to the male before you. An action that could cost you your life if it was anyone else. Uihoy attacked.

Sharp, lethal teeth latched onto the flesh of your throat. Just enough pressure to warn you who had the cards in hand. Uihoy purred pleased and let his upper hand fall away rest on your hip. The other kept working away, causing more slick to build up.

His touch was driving you wild. He knew it. He was doing it on purpose. Your mandibles gritted together at the bubbling rage at him. Like a volcano with molten rock rising to the surface, ready to blow when the time was right. And you weren’t going to give him the satisfaction of coaxing your cock out.

Gathering all of your energy, you shoved at Uihoy with everything you had. For once, you believed to caught the male off guard as he stumbled back, adding a fair amount of distance.

How wrong you were.

He was back on you in a split-second. Hands. Claws. Teeth. All seared across your scales until you were forced onto your front on the branch. Uihoy’s heavy weight draped over your back like shadows swallowing you whole. It was enough to keep you underneath him. A roaring bellow sounded from the Yautja as he made his claim vocal. “Ze-rei.” Fire. “You have fire that I want to consume.”

Despite Uihoy pinning you to the branch, you still wiggled and struggled. It wasn’t enough to throw the male off though.

All movements stopped at the feel of something blazing and wet resting against the tight ring of muscles behind your sack. Your eyes jerked wide open, head yanked up at the feeling. The head of your cock speared through your slit but didn’t move an inch more.

The body on top of you sat up. Hands grabbed at globes of your cheeks and spread them as far as possible. You squirmed this time uncomfortably at the fact he was putting you on display for him. Your claws dug into the bark underneath. “This is my new favorite sight,” Uihoy mumbled lowly to himself, a wide grin marking his face.

Then, the tip speared into you. Pain rocketed inside of you, eyes rolling back into their sockets at the feeling. Your mandibles flared open in a silent cry. But… you pushed back on Uihoy. More of his shaft disappeared inside of you, even if it was only an inch. Uihoy took the signal and thrusted his hips flush with your thighs.

Uihoy’s weight nearly collapsed on top of you as he struggled to stay upright. Something you never thought to see from the older Yautja. He tensed his muscles, talons prickling the skin along your cheeks and lower back. “I lied… this, this is my new favorite sight,” he growled before drawing his hips back.

The drag of each ridge and bump on the sides of his thick cock had you seeing stars already. All the way until just the tip was snug inside. Without warning, he forced his length back into you. The strength behind the thrust had you scrapping forward.

A low groan vibrated along Uihoy’s spine. “You’re so tight,” he stated like it was a fact. It was to be honest. You’ve never ventured outside to learn more about yourself. But after just the tiny taste, the littlest of drop from this, you’ll never be satisfied. “You’re going keep squeezing me out.” Uihoy bent at the waist. “Relax.” A hand placed next to your head while the other kept an even pressure on your shoulder blade. “I don’t know if you can even take my knot.”

Bark groaned as claws raked across the layer. You fantasized the thought of knotting another but never being knotted yourself. That ignited a hunger you never knew existed inside of you.

Fingers and claws ghosted down the length of your spine then diverted where your hip meets your thigh. Uihoy started a beginning pace to warm you up, to loosen up the muscles locked. Heat flared at the base of your spine as his touch palmed at the space below your slit. Your cock still barely peaking out. You weren’t going to give in easily. He had to take what he wanted.

The limb next to your head prevented you from slipping away from him, trapped under his thick body. His movements increased with speed but more importantly: harshness. Like any other male in the season, he was losing himself. His control slipping right of his fingers. There wasn’t a single thing he could do to stop it.

Thick finger grasped at what peaked out from between your legs. You gasped and rutted into the hand before a dark snarl had you stopping. The digits moved down where two rested apart from each other. They were in the space between your sack and slit, on either side of where your straining cock resided still inside of you. Uncomfortably. Very uncomfortably.

A single roll of his fingertips had you seeing stars. The rest of your length shot out like a plasma shot that it hurt at out fast it unsheathed. You choked out a harsh gasp and jerked back into the male controlling you. His hips went flush with yours while your muscles locked tight around his shaft. Uihoy roared. A hand flying to your hip while his claws dug into your flesh.

“Pauk!” he snarled into the tense air.

Something shifted in the air. You didn’t know what but could feel something change.

Uihoy reared his hips back just until the tip just sat inside. Without remorse, he bullied it back into you. This new pace was harsh, rough, uncaring. He was dominating you; taking what he wants and not caring about anything else. The only thing keeping you from sliding off the branch was the limb next to your head and his claws piercing your skin.

Your own talons dug into the bark, clawing away at the trees barrier for purchase. His thrusts are a driving force to reckon with. The ridges along his cock adding to the friction that winds you up. Pleasure growing at a rate you couldn’t fight, couldn’t stop if you wanted it.

His thick waist started to stutter, pace growing wary. The claws tearing into your flesh, drawing blood were pulled out. The pain in their wake was brushed off.

Between your trembling legs, your cock was painfully hard, weeping from the tip. As desperately as you wanted to reach underneath and touch yourself, Uihoy beat you to the punch.

A firm grip wrapped around your shaft. The pressure sent your eyes rolling into the back of your head, hips faltering on either to drive back or forward. Drool hung from your jaw. You were an utter mess of pre-cum, drool, and blood.

The grasp slipped down to your growing knot and squeezed. A vice grip. Stars exploded in your vision. You shattered like glass. Your cocked twitching wildly at each new pump of sperm staining the tree. His hand never relenting the pressure even as the overstimulation began to hurt.

He switched his other arm to wrap firmly around your torso and kept you flush to him. Snarls, growls, bellows poured from the male’s throat before he keened a high pitch. His hips slapped to yours. A pleasurable pain sprouted to life as you felt his knot inflate inside of you. The feeling completely foreign to you. You grunted and squirmed.

Uihoy snarled at you in warning. In reaction, you growled back at him.

Sharp teeth punctured the muscle that corded your shoulder. You choked on a gasped and went ridged underneath him. He had made his point and untangled his fangs from you. The Yautja leaned up, all he could do while tied to you.

“Look at that. You were able to take my knot,” he snarked down at you. You huffed. The energy once in your body was depleted for the moment. Yet, you could already feel your core filling the same need as before.

Pleasure shot through you like a plasma shot when his hand tugged at your sensitive cock. You bucked back at Uihoy to stop but the grip tightened. C’jit. And you were at his mercy.

#predator #yautja #yautja x reader #yautja x you #alien vs predator #predator x reader #yautja x human #predator x you #predator x human #x reader #smut #predator smut #yautja smut #alien smut #very smutty #gay smut

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sourlove · 4 days

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Kingpin ~ Part III of 'Street Rat' YANDERE BAKUGO KATSUKI

TW: OBSESSION, KIDNAPPING, YANDERE THEMES, MENTIONED GANG ACTIVITIES, MENTIONED MURDER, MENTIONED BLACKMAIL

READ PART 1 HERE

READ PART 2 HERE

(Female reader) (Mild NSFW)

Bakugo Katsuki was a force of nature. When Eijiro met him, Katsuki was an angry scrap of a boy who everyone thought was going to get himself killed with his attitude. But he didn't.

Despite having a rough start in life, he managed to join a small time gang on the outskirts of the city and fought his way, literally and figuratively, to the top. Eijiro was proud to stand next to Katsuki as his best friend and right hand man. He thought he knew everything about the man, from what made him angry (everything) to how he liked his coffee (black, boiling hot). Eijiro did know everything about Katsuki.

Everything, except you.

You were a wildcard nobody expected. When Katsuki ordered an attack on a wedding of all things, nobody questioned him. When he forcefully silenced all the guests in attendance with blackmail, everyone dismissed it as standard procedure. But when he brutally slaughtered the groom and showed up with the bride in his arms, it definitely raised some eyebrows.

From the moment you woke up at their base, you had done nothing but cause trouble. You would throw tantrums, destroy furniture and torment everybody who was unfortunate enough to approach. You were beautiful, sure, but clearly batshit insane and everybody tried to steer clear of you as much as they possibly could.

That's why it was so It was off-putting how nice Katsuki was to you. Eijiro had watched his boss rip out a man's tongue and feed it to his dogs because the man had called him called him weak. Now, you could hurl every insult under the sun at him and Katsuki would pat your head with an indulgent smile. You spoke like everyone was beneath you, sometimes barking out orders to the men who would stop and stare in confusion. Until Katsuki showed up.

"The fuck are you dipshits looking at? Did she fucking stutter?"

It was pretty clear that Katsuki worshipped the ground you walked on. And Eijiro supported that, he really did! Being so unashamedly in love, especially in their line of business, was pretty manly. He only had a real problem with how you treated Katsuki like trash. Even as a rookie on the streets, he was never one to take orders from anyone. But he jumped through flaming hoops to spoil you, just for his gifts to be thrown back in his face.

Literally. That was your favorite form of attack and your favorite victim seemed to be the man who would kill someone for you. Sure there was that little issue of Katsuki actually killing your very new husband, but couldn't you see that he was doing his best to make up for it?

Now, Eijiro wasn't the brightest crayon in the box but even he knew that the relationship between the two of you might not be the healthiest. So as the best bro he had to ask Katsuki, preferably when you weren't there. Though that proved to be very difficult (why did you go everywhere with the man if you couldn't stand him?!), Eijiro managed to slip into Katsuki's office when you went to bed and Katsuki wanted to get some work done.

"Hey Boss! Long time, no see, huh?"

The ashy blonde eyed him suspiciously. "I saw you an hour ago, Shitty Hair. You on drugs?" He turned back to his paperwork with a huff.

Eijiro laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, I mean, sure I always see you, but...you're always with her."

It was only years of being in close proximity with the Kingpin himself, that alerted Eijiro to the fact that he had just acquired a shovel and was about to start digging his own grave. Katsuki calmly dropped his pen and steepled his fingers over the papers he was working on. "And what exactly is that supposed to mean?"

The redhead gulped. "Nothing! There's absolutely nothing wrong with your relationship. Okay, good talk! Bye!" He stood up to escape.

"Sit down."

Eijiro sat down. Katsuki sighed and rubbed his face tiredly. "You know, she's the only reason I'm where I am today."

"...what?"

"Look, Y/N, she-she was the prettiest girl I ever set my eyes on." He reclined into his seat, looking off thoughtfully into the distance. "Everyone wanted her but no one deserved her, not even me." Katsuki chuckled ruefully. "I always thought I had no chance, until she gave me one. And I'm obviously not a fucking idiot so I took it."

Eijiro frowned. "What do you mean by that?"

"Look around, Shitty Hair," he gestured to his office. "Do you think I give a fuck about all this fancy shit? It's all for her. Everything I have, everything I am, is all for Y/N."

"Bro, that's like, romantic but also a bit concerning. Everything you have? That's like...everything!"

Katsuki scowled at him. "Yeah no shit, dumbass. I'm gonna marry that girl."

"Woah, bro," Eijiro sniffled. "You're so manly! I totally respect your decision now, even though everyone said you were as crazy as her!"

"What the fuck did you just say?! Oi, Shitty Hair! Get back here, fucking coward!"

Katsuki growled as the annoying idiot who called himself a friend scurried away. He glanced outside and noted the dark sky, before packing up his remaining paperwork and hurrying out of his office. The few goons that saw Katsuki only received a grunt in return of their greetings before the boss flew off, leaving them wondering where he was rushing to.

Or who he was rushing to. When Katsuki carefully opened the door, you were stretched across the bed, fast asleep. He smiled and quickly took of his clothes, before slipping into bed next to you. While Katsuki enjoyed Y/N at any time, he especially enjoyed you when you was sleeping. Then, he could admire as much as he wanted without any disturbance.

He stroked a finger down your cheek and bit his lip. Once a distant dream, you were so soft and warm laying beside him. Now, he could also touch you as much as he wanted. And this time, you let him.

You woke up to the feeling of Katsuki's stubble scratching you as he mouthed hungrily at your neck. Rough, calloused hands tugged at your nightgown and squeezed your soft flesh.

"Noo, get off" you whined, half-asleep. "Still sore..."

He chuckled lowly. "My bad, baby. I'll be gentle this time."

You pouted as he nipped at your collarbone. "Liar. You're always so mean-ah!" His hands ripped your nightgown down the middle, finally growing impatient, and Katsuki grinned wickedly.

"Hmm, you say that now," he cooed. "But you love it, don'tcha? So be a good girl and spread your legs for me, sweets~"

A/N: This has been requested a lot and shown so much love! Its insane how I only started posting a couple of days ago and I already have so much support. Leave an ask if you want to see some side stories or headcanons!

Please leave a like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed. Go ahead and give yourself a kiss on the cheek for being so amazing xxx

@darious @ssplague @justabratsworld @pinkrose1422 @slayfics

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hubristicassholefight · 1 month

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Hubristic Asshole Fight: Round 1 Part 1b

Anakin Skywalker (Star Wars) vs Feanor (The Silmarillion)

Propaganda below cut

Anakin

Decided that he would become stronger than death to stop those he cares about from dying after failing to accept his mother's death. When he begins getting visions/nightmares like he had before losing his mother of his wife dying in childbirth, he decides to team up with an evil sorcerer and mastermind to learn the secret to stopping death. The price he willingly paid was leading the slaughter of the community of peacekeeping monks who had raised him from nine years old, feeling guilt about his heinous betrayal even as he unflichingly continued the massacre (sunk cost fallacy to a very extreme degree). The unintended price he paid was the loss of his limbs and independence after his injuries during a fight with his mentor and brother figure, his wife dying on childbirth due to the great stress of his heinous actions, and being separated from his children until they were adults firmly opposed to the imperial regime he became the attack dog for (only knowing of their survival until after he had personally attacked them both); He literally did not have to do any of that. his wife Padmè very very very very much did not want him to do any of that. He was completely absorbed in his own inability to deal with loss that he deadlock refused to consider losing family again and then he went and killed what amounted to his extended family, his wife and the man who raised and guided him from age 9. And his own kids unknowingly. In terms of accomplishing your goals there really really wasn't much more he could have fucked up. And when it comes down to key moments, all he had to do was not cut off mentor and co-worker Mace Windu's hand with a laser sword and everything would have been fine. He's a nominee for Fail King of All Time to me

He thinks he's hot shit which, he is, but like cool it dude you don't have to mass murder maim mutilate your way through life to prove you're the extra most specialest bestest psychic space wizard;

Hubrised so hard he 1) lost his limbs and his skin 2) became what he hated 3) caused the very death he sought to prevent, betraying and destroying himself for nothing; So soaking wet and self aware that he cried committing atrocities. If he knew what hubris was, he'd agree he has a lot of it

Feanor

The definition of hubris. Created the silmarils who were so perfect even the gods praised them. Got them stolen by the gods evil brother (so essentially fantasy satan). Then decided to go fight the evil god to get the silmarils back and swore an oath binding him and his sons to get them back no matter who would stand in their way. This drastically backfired when some other elves stood in his way so he murdered them. Got cursed by the gods for this (together with his entire family and everyone who followed them). Told the gods that they were of the same kind as fantasy satan and that they would end up following him

Morgoth (a god) shows up at his house and Feanor (professional hater of gods) tells him to get fucked* and slams the door in his face. *”Get thee gone from my gate thou jail-crow of Mandos!”; He has never spent anything wrong ever aside from all the war crimes.

The Valar (gods) asked Feanor for help in saving the world from being in total darkness and he said “no, figure it out yourselves”. Repeatedly and intentionally goes against their orders leading to war and chaos; I know it’s left open ended to what really happened to him after he died, but I hope he never repents. I hope he stays an antagonistic and egotistical bastard after being reimbodied (brought back to life) and continues to make it everyone else’s problem. I love him.

I’m gonna have to try to do this without a sing Tolkien scholarship words so bear with me. Basically my dude is one of the smartest and most talented elves in the world. Unfortunately he has a lot of daddy issues AND mommy issues largely due to the fact that his mom died when he was a kid and decided not to come back (as elves can do). No one else has this problem. He invented a ton of important stuff and had seven sons. His most prized creation was three gems called the Silmarils, which contained the light of the Two Trees, which gave light to the world before they were destroyed. When the Valar (the gods of Tolkien’s world) asked if they could use the Silmarils to potentially create another light source, he emphatically refused and in fact became so jealous of them that he and his sons swore an oath that anyone who so much as touched them would die by their swords. Sauron’s boss steals the gems and Feanor decides that he will lead his people on a crusade to retrieve and avenge them. This results in the death of him, most of his people, and almost his entire family minus one of his sons, Galadriel, and Elrond; He once yelled at the devil to get off his lawn

went to war with morgoth (satan basically) against the will of the gods and made a whole speech to said gods about how they were gonna feel really silly when he killed morgoth and saved the whole world. he never actually did battle with morgoth because he died on like day 1 of getting to middle earth (he left like 2/3 of his forces behind because he didn’t trust them) and spontaneously combusted upon his death; he’s a huge asshole and a mad scientist and linguist and prince with daddy issues and also mommy issues

Dude thought he could win a fight with the devil, tried to just walk into Angband (Mordor before Mordor actually existed), made an oath to kill everyone that tries to take his creations even the Valar (angelic like beings) and ends up causing his death, his sons deaths and a bunch of other deaths; His name is quite literally spirit of fire Is basically regarded as THE greastest elf Is in fact THE best smith of the elves and crafts their most precious jewels (that end up causing so much death) Is THE linguist to the point of creating the alfabet every one uses even after The Crimes, creates a bunch of things that are used even after The Crimes actually Loves his dad more than the things he made Is the only recorded elf with seven kids Is married to a sculpter that is so good that people confuse her statues as actual people (a propaganda because he had to be good to actually bag her you know) Manages to create jewelry so good even the the angelics beings sent by god are surprised he managed to do it So good at making speeches that it leads to a rebellion against said angelic beings and a lot of people to leave paradise with him His mother died because his spirit was too powerful Invented kinslaying after trying to steal some boats for said rebellion Swears an oath that destroys his whole family (but adds a great flavour to the rest of the story) Tells the devil to fuck off and slams his house door on said devils face Dies via auto combustion because his spirit was just too powerful for a normal death Gets stuck in the afterlife (that elves can usually just return from) for spiting the Valar Is said he will have an important role in Tolkien’s version of Ragnarok by letting the jewels he previously promised to kill for be destroyed to defeat the devil

Because of his pride, he went against the gods because the evil god Morgoth stole his life's work (the Silmarils, 3 shiny gems that radiated the light of the two trees that a huge evil spider had sapped dry). Swore (with his 7 sons) an oath to hunt Morgoth and retrieve his shiny gems. Commited kinslaying, burned some boats, combusted to ashes after suffering mortal wounds at the hands of corrupted demi-gods. Consequences of his actions could be seen long long after his death: the oath was passed on to his sons to hopelessly fulfill (failure after failure, including two more kinslayings, one of them casting himself into a fiery volcano, another wandering the shores for eternity);

#anakin skywalker #star wars #feanor #the silmarillion #tolkien's legendarium #hubristic assholes tourney #round 1 #round 1 part 1b #official #poll

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lovelettersbyj · 3 months

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A King and His Queen ❌

Warnings: Kissing, slight man-handling, intense biting, unprotected sex, slight dom!Coriolanus, ejaculation on body.

Pairing: Coriolanus Snow x Fem Reader(?).

Summary: After a surprise Academy ceremony, Coriolanus Snow is now one of 24 Academy students in charge of a tribute for the 10th Annual Hunger Games ceremony. Pearl Whitegrove, desperate to climb her way to the top in Panem, must try anything and everything she can to keep Coriolanus Snow focused on the big picture. Even if that means, extreme, and potentially seductive measures.

Word Count: 2,192.

A/N: Happy holidays! I know it's been a minute, but I hope everyone had a wonderful winter break. I've been attempting to draft out how I want these events to play out; I really love Pearl and this toxic love affair so I want to make sure I include everything I thought of. Some of the dialogue might be slightly off from the movie since I'm shaping it around to my idea. I hope you all enjoy! Make sure to comment and let me know what you think. 💛

Also a very happy birthday to Tom Blyth! An absolute coincidence I'm finally posting part two today, but a great one nonetheless.

Read Part One here.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The crowds of students, parents, school staff, and Capitol citizens flooded the ballroom floor; everyone clearly in a mild state of panic. Tributes and mentors? Academy students as mentors? There’s no way they’d be able to train these kids to survive a slaughter in The Games. But that wasn't entirely the point, was it?

I pushed my way through the vibrantly dressed bodies, raising myself up as high as I could in search of Coriolanus’ blonde head. About to admit defeat, a hand wrapped itself around my right bicep and pulled me back. I gasped as I turned around, arms wrapping around me and two familiar blue eyes staring right at me, “Are you alright?”

I nodded warily, “Yes.”

Coriolanus guided us stealthily out of the ballroom, avoiding anyone attempting to approach him and rile up an anger-fueled conversation. We ended up outside by the car loading area, thankfully empty. We stood in between the large concrete columns, attempting to stay relatively hidden from any prying eyes.

“What the hell is going on with Highbottom?” Coriolanus snapped, “Students as tributes? Is he out of his mind?”

I chuckled, “Clearly. Those kids are all going to die anyway; the Games themselves are getting more boring every year. If something doesn’t change they’ll just stop doing them altogether. The Capitol is desperate.”

Coriolanus went silent, his eyes glued to the floor. I watched him a moment, then stepped closer to him, lifting my hands and clutching his pale cheeks in my grasp. “Coryo, look at me.”

His serious expression remained, but his eyes began to soften as he focused on me.

“You’ve got this, Coriolanus Snow. You’re going to show Highbottom and everyone in the Capitol what you’re capable of.”

He chuckled, “But Lucy Gray—” “I don’t care about Lucy Gray. I care about you, and I care about you impressing Dr. Gaul. I know you want to help your family, and I know you want to ultimately work in the Capitol, right?”

He nodded, raising his hands and lightly holding my forearms, “I want to do great things with Panem.” He spoke so softly; a first glimpse at vulnerability. His eyes almost watering, looking at me a bit more desperately now, “I want to be President.”

“And you will, Coryo. I know you will. But you can’t lose sight of what they want out of the games. It’s not just about who survives. It’s about who they remember the most… And they’ve got to remember you.”

Fuck it. Before thinking twice I pulled his face towards me and kissed his warm lips. I felt his hands tense against my arms; fingers pressing a bit harder on the skin. This kiss was so comforting, for both of us. He sighed into the kiss, growing more confident now and pulling me into him. Suddenly a cough followed by someone clearing their throat made us pull away hastily.

Turning around, we both were uncomfortably joined by Dean Highbottom, who leaned against a concrete pillar with his lips draining the last drops of a clear liquid in a tiny glass bottle.

“Always creeping around, aren’t you Highbottom?” I chuckled dryly, turning to face him as Coryo’s nervous hand gripped my wrist, “Don’t you have children to terrorize?”

A ghost of a smile decorated his face; sarcasm dripping from a chuckle as he looked up at me, “Hanging around the Snows, are we Pearl? That’s low, even for you.”

I took a step closer, but Coryo’s hand held me firm and prevented me from getting any closer, “You better watch how you speak about Coriolanus and his family. They’re more powerful than you could ever dream of being.”

“Well, it’s a good thing I don’t crave power… unlike some people. Isn’t that right, Snow?” His gaze darted over towards Coriolanus, who stood silent behind me.

I rolled my eyes, crossing my arms and shaking my head, “You can try to scare the Academy graduates all you want, but Coriolanus is going to win. You’ll see.”

Highbottom chuckled again. “With that little songbird? I don’t think so.” He began to walk away from us, heading back inside to the chaos he had created not long ago. Stopping in his tracks, he turned to face us again, “It’s a good thing Whitegrove is here to stand up for you, huh Snow? But once the Games begin, you’re going to be all alone… Then we’ll see how powerful you really are.”

———————————————————

The sun had set in Panem, everyone holed up in their homes, anxious after the ground-breaking news. I was with Coriolanus in the old Snow mansion, sitting in the living room with my legs crossed and watching the blonde haired man pace back and forth as he explained to Tigris exactly what had happened earlier that day. She was disapproving of the way Snow talked about Lucy Gray Baird, practically chastising him for doing so. She snapped back at him saying that if she was in Lucy’s position, she wouldn’t trust Coryo at all— my blood boiling at the insult.

“What else is he supposed to do then, Tigris? Let her go into the Games knowing full well she’s going to die right away? Let’s be serious for a moment.”

The two of them looked over to me now, Tigris’ eyes narrowed, “So what do you suggest?”

I paused for a beat, thinking sincerely. I still had no idea what Coriolanus should do, but there was no way in hell he was about to lose this ridiculous competition. He needed to win… I needed him to win.

“That’s what I thought.” She spat out dryly.

—————

Tigris had abandoned Coriolanus and I in a bubbling rage, closing herself away in her room for the night. I now sat in an old, worn out chair in the corner of Coryo’s small room. He nervously picked some clutter off of the ground, rummaging around in a quick attempt to make everything seem a bit more presentable.

“It’s okay, Coryo.” I assured softly, “Just relax.”

Resting a broken pencil on his desk, he sat himself on the edge of his small bed, directly across from me. We basked awkwardly in a moment of silence, before he exhaled a nervous breath, “I have no idea what I’m going to say to her tomorrow.”

“I think showing up at the train station is a smart idea. I doubt any of the other mentors would ever think about doing something like that, you’re on the right track.”

I stood up, shrugging my coat off of my shoulders and tossing it onto the back of the chair. Stepping closer to Coryo, I delicately lifted a hand onto a stray curly lock that hung over his forehead, tucking it back behind his ear and cupping his face, “You’re a brilliant man, Coriolanus Snow. You’re going to get Lucy Gray Baird to trust you, and you will be King of Panem one day.”

“King?” His eyebrows furrowed.

I chuckled, “King, President. Whatever you prefer.”

“There’s no way I’m going to win with her, she’s not going to last a day—” “She doesn’t need to last a day. She just needs to be remembered; so that you can be remembered.”

Coryo’s features went soft; eyes watering at the thought of how low his chances were. The fate of his future in Panem rested in the arms of a lowly girl from District 12. I cupped his face with both hands now, brushing away a tear that managed to slip down.

“If you can impress Dr. Gaul by the time all of this is over, you won’t need to worry about some District 12 country bum. You hold all the power, Coriolanus. You are powerful.”

Slowly, I lowered myself in between his legs, straddling his right thigh. His eyes darted down to watch the way I pressed down onto him, his mouth letting out a soft gasp.

“Pearl…”

Coryo’s eyes met mine, and our gazes held a moment. Suddenly he wasted no time in kissing me, his hands gripping the back of my neck to hold me in place as his lips tackled mine. I wrapped both arms around his wide shoulders, using his body to steady myself as my energy quickly grew weak under his touch.

Hastily in between kisses, my fingers fumbled with his white shirt buttons in a desperate attempt to pull the material off of his body, Coriolanus doing the same with the zipper of my golden dress. His hands slowly glided up the sides of my body, long fingers taking in what he could as he made his way up to my breasts. An excited spark went up my spine, feeling his cool, pale hands against my warm flesh.

His hands cupped the outer curvature, massaging the breasts slowly. I bit my lip at his intricate touch, closing my eyes and slightly leaning my head back as I swallowed hard. At this notion, Coryo immediately leaned forward and clung his lips onto my fully exposed neck, playfully digging his teeth and swirling his tongue on a single, concentrated spot. Eventually his hands expertly unclasped the bra, and the clothing item also found its way quickly to the floor.

My hand rested on his fully hard cock, pressing aggressively against his tight black slacks. I knead my hand slowly, making sure to guide it along the full length. Coriolanus groaned, his head falling onto my exposed shoulder as he was fully at my mercy. I slipped his earlobe in between my lips, biting it teasingly as I slipped my hand past the pant confines and through the boxer briefs. His cock was rock solid, and at the touch of my hand twitched excitingly. I guided my hand along the length, only slightly cupping his balls before working my way up and beginning a steady pump rhythm.

“Oh my god, fuck,” Coriolanus gasped, one hand wrapped around my wrist as I continued to work my way along his cock. His eyes fluttered closed, and I pressed my lips onto his forehead as his breaths grew short and aggressive; I knew he was close.

Suddenly he pulled my hand out, and in a quick switch in attitude, he was back in charge. Coriolanus ripped my dress down, making sure to include my panties as he left me fully nude. He finished pulling off his pants and boxers, and with both hands on my waist, pulled me on slowly over his fully erect dick.

“Those were some pretty inspiring words,” He spoke in a low growl, guiding my hips as he slowly rocked me back and forth against him, “You just want a man with power, huh?”

“Oh,” I shuddered, completely at a loss of control. My core pulsed as my dripping warmth completely coated onto his entire girth. His hands pressed deeply onto my hip bones, guiding my rhythm as his mouth sucked hard on my exposed collar bone. My hands dug into his soft, blonde hair, looping my fingers in his curls as I held onto him dearly.

He continued his pace, my grinding trying to become a bit more desperate as I felt a tight ball of heat build up in my core. I started to pant, pulling tightly on his hair as I moaned out, “I’m going to c-cum.”

Coriolanus smirked in delight, moving a hand down to my clit and rubbing the sensitive bud vigorously with his thumb as he gave me a long kiss, swirling his tongue on my lower lip before pulling away and whispering, “Cum for me, my queen.”

His deep voice was enough to push me over the edge, and I clung to his broad back as I dropped my head onto his right shoulder, my teeth sinking into his skin as I felt my warm juices release completely onto his lap.

“Coryo,” I gasped out, and I felt his chest rise and fall in a soft chuckle, pleased with the mess I had made on his body. He wrapped his arms around my curves, pulling me close as I continued to slowly ride out my high.

“I can get used to this, sweetheart.” Coriolanus smiled, lifting my chin to look up at him as he left a tender kiss on my lips, “You’re beautiful.”

I chuckled softly, kissing him again on the cheek as he helped lift me up. My legs slightly wobbled as I steadied myself, and he immediately reached over to grab a cloth. We both laughed, slightly embarrassed as we cleaned ourselves up. Coriolanus and I settled in his bed, practically clinging to each other under his bedsheet cover. “You’re going to do great tomorrow, Coriolanus. I believe in you.”

His hand held the side of my face as his thumb repeatedly stroked my cheek softly, “With you by my side, all my doubts are fading away.”

I had him. He trusts me—needs me. He’s mine.

“Is that why you called me your queen?” I giggled, leaning up to kiss him.

He smirked, nodding his head slightly, “As you said, I’m going to be the King of Panem one day. Every King needs a Queen, right?”

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ranposbabe · 2 years

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Wine settles the nerves | Aegon II Targaryen x implied Strong!Reader

A/N: As I am not fluent in Valyrian, please excuse any mistakes in the translations etc, thank you !

“Ah six years since we’ve last seen our blood my dear brother.” You sigh as you walk along side the quiet dark haired lad.

“Cheerful are you ?” Jace inquires with a slight smirk forming. “Oh Jace ! Please enlighten me !” You laugh, pulling at your elder brothers arm. “If you had it your way we would’ve never of left Dragonstone, y/n.”

“Lyka” (Quiet) You tease, giving him a playful punch to the shoulder. “What does that word mean again ?” Jace wonders, raising a brow. You simply scoff before turning to run off only to be chased by him. “It’s not my fault you somehow manage to be skilled speaking our mother tongue !”

Oh how the roar of your laughter could’ve been heard throughout the seven kingdoms.

Time Skip…

You were late. You can recall so vividly how your mother, the realm’s delight softly scolding you on any occasion for never arriving on time while your father figure Daemon sat back surprisingly for once holding back his laugh.

But now here you were practically running to the throne room with your small heels clicking against the ground and your black and red dress slightly swooshing away. The same exact dress your mother gave you some time ago, that she once wore years ago where she had slaughtered some boar.

But you knew how important this was.

Your younger brother Lukes right to Driftmark was being questioned and you would not just stand aside and not let your support for him be unknown.

As you slyly snuck by your cousins Beala and Rhaena you hear

“Princess Rhaenyra, you may now speak for your son Lucerys Velaryion “ Spoke the sneaky hand of the king.

“Where have you been ?” Jace asks, tilting his head. Your mother spared you a glance before walking up front to address everyone. It was only truly now in the moment you could take in the scene before you. You swore to keep your head low out of respect yet your curious eyes betrayed you as you scan right over to the gleaming light that was green.

It had only been half a decade since you last seen your aunt and uncles yet it felt like a century. Years back before Vhagar’s now rider had lost his eye, you had gotten along quite well with the young boy and his older sister.

However the same could not of been said for Aegon. He always had his nose stuck in a cup drinking and it bored you nonetheless. You can recall multiple occasions where you repeatingly stole this cup and then ran round the yard forcing him to chase you while he slightly struggled due to the wine intake.

As the young prince seemed so desperate for the precious cup you had made a joke how he should have the blacksmiths make him the finest jewellery out of the cup so the chances of it being stolen again was unlikely.

The last time you had seen Aegon before returning to Dragonstone, he placed a ring on a string and practically flung it at you and called it a day. Yet when you actually had the chance to study the “necklace” you couldn’t help but notice the striking resemblance its appearance had to the cup he had chased you for.

“Well ?” Jace says, impatiently waiting for your response. Your eyes were practicing glued to the sight of the greens. They all stood tall, especially Aemond who now wore a patch over his lost eye yet your eyes couldn’t move away from his older brother who’s hair was now cut and lacked the vibrant curls they once had. He seemed to have not noticed your stare as he himself stared off almost as if he was deprived whether it be sleep or alcohol or both you were unsure.

You turn to your brother who seemed to be the only one noticing your longing gaze yet made no comment about it.

“I was just-

Just then the booming noise of the doors opening rang through the room and a guard called out the titlements of your grandsire. At the sudden loud noise you gasp, instantly hiding behind the rogue prince like a small child. Daemon takes notice of this and sends his kind smile your way.

You couldn’t help but admire not only your grandsire but also your king as even at his weakness still came to defend not only Lucerys but you and your mother as well.

As usual at any gathering suddenly events took a turn and Daemon killed Vaemond Velaryon in front of you all. You cower back into your mothers arms as she drapes her arm protectively over you knowing you couldn’t bare the gruesome sight.

You were late. Again.

The king ordered for a family dinner where everyone where to be present and yet suddenly the dreaded thought dawned on you that you would see everyone again. You were definitely in need of a confidence boost. As you stood in the dark corridor you shakingly run your hands continuously over your dress your eye catches a serving girl with cups of wine on her plate. “Excuse me !” You call to the serving girl.

“Where is y/n ?” Viserys croaked, slowly tilting his head towards Rhaenyra. Although the music continued, everyone stopped to raise their head to notice the empty seat next to Baela. “Rhaenyra.” Alicent spoke softly. “Where is she ?” She inquires.

The others dip back to their fallen conversations but Rhaenyra breaths stop for a brief moment. She doesn’t know where you exactly are and when she shares a glance with Daemon she learns that he doesn’t know either.

“My my everyone’s already here !”

You bow respectfully while trying not to trip before your king and then place a gentle kiss on your grandsire cheek and make your way to your empty seat. Of course completely missing the horrified look on the queens face and the confusion on your poor mothers. Everyone had already began drinking and could tell you started before them all. Luke couldn’t help but laugh as you simply sat down and smiled while being completely dazed. “y/n ? Are you alright ?” Baela asked, despite knowing the answer.

“Yes.” You chirped. “Indeed I am, cousin.” You smile, patting the Velaryon girls hand.

Your eyes regretfully turn to face in front of you to see Daemon like Luke, finding amusement in your state while your mother gives you that look that she gives in her eyes to say we’ll talk later.

Avoiding her stare, you turn to face Luke to indulge in conversation while not even noticing the silver head at the opposite end of the table staring your way. Soon, out of the corner of your eye you see Aegon speaking to your brother and you can’t help but wonder. If Aegon had no problem engaging in simple conversation with the others than what had set you apart from the rest ?

As soon as Jace got up to dance with Helaena, you unsteadily slipped out of your chair and stole Jaces seat, taking the spot next to the elder prince.

“Uncle ?” You whisper, all of a sudden becoming timid. It was as if the wine was instantly drained from your system.

“You have grown, niece.” He spoke rather coldly, reaching for his cup.

“Can’t you at least spare me a glance ?” You say, snatching the cup from him.

Aegon huffs as he sunk down into his chair , slowly tilting his head to you. His tired eyes meet yours and yet suddenly it feels too intimate.

You raise a brow as suddenly his eyes widen and he sits up straighter in his chair and his just then his hand reaches for your neck.

“You’re wearing it.” He mutters in disbelief.

“What ?” You question, looking down to see his fingers clutching the ring attached to your necklace. You can practically feel the queen’s eyes burning into you like a dragons breath yet you’re currently struggling to meet Aegon’s eyes let alone his mothers.

“Aegon I-

Instantly there’s a loud bang.

Your eyes momentarily meets that of the rider of the largest dragon and there he stood with a cup in his hand.

“Final tribute.” He confidently spoke.

“To the health of my nephews.”

You can’t help but be slightly relieved that Aemond completely disregarded your presence. You knew what was to come so to avoid the madness you stood up quietly leaving behind you could hear Jace daring Aemond to repeat himself. No more did you want to hear.

Time Skip…

After taking some needed fresh air, you decided that it was time to head back inside and face your mother as you could already imagine what she would say.

No more dragon riding !

You knew that you were suppose to be accompanied by a guard while outside yet since the wine was now drained from your system you could no longer feel the urge to hold a conversation. You let out a tiresome sigh and as you turn you gasp as suddenly a hand grabs your wrist. You calm as you notice it was only the silver head prince himself.

“Skorion jaelagon a ?” (What you want ?) You sigh, trying to pull away.

“Dohaeriakson raqan.” (I like to be served) He whispered, pulling you closer by the waist. “Struggled to find a servant girl did you, my prince ?” You wonder, tilting your head slightly.

“Earlier you were practically begging for my attention, now here you are acting like it’s the other way around.”

“That is due to the fact I am no longer persuaded by wine.”

“I saw the way you looked at me in the throne room, y/n.” He says, hiding in your neck before sneakingly placing a kiss under your jaw. Your eyes can’t help but widen at his words. You were sure that he hadn’t of seen you yet you clearly stood mistaken.

“You think that strong boy was the only one who caught that look ?” You can practically feel his smirk pressed against your skin. “Don’t call him that.” You groan, rolling your eyes at the typical comment.

“Do you feel that ?” He whispers, dragging your hand down low. Despite him removing his hand, yours lingers for a few more seconds. “That is for no serving girl.” He proudly claims. “How honoured I am.” You laugh.

“You’ve really kept it after all this time ?” He asks with an almost pleading look evident in his eyes as he stares down at your necklace. “Of course.” You mutter, slightly playing with the string.

Slowly but surely you find yourself moving closer, craving to be in his presence just like before and maybe to even-

“What’s going on here ?”

You turn round, horrified to see the sight of your own mother standing there with a guard behind her. “M-mother I-“ You stutter, not able to comprehend what was happening. “y/n we are to be heading back to Dragonstone. We cannot waste another moment here.” Rhaenyra states, glaring at her half brother.

“Please escort the princess back to her brothers.” Rhaenyra ordered the guard. Your head hangs low as you head back with the guard, tears already welling up in your eyes. Rhaenyra steps closer to the younger Targaryen. “Whatever happened here, ends now.” She promises.

“We’ll see about that.” Aegon smirks.

No more dragon riding !

#hotd spoilers #house of the dragon #reader insert #x reader #hotd 1x08 #aegon ii x reader #aegon ii targaryen #house targaryen #aegon x reader #aegon ii targaryen x reader

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delzinrowe · 2 months

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Aftermath - Kento Nanami

WORD COUNT: ~4.2K WARNINGS: Some minor & major alterations to Shibuya Arc! No Culling Games in this fic. Otherwise no serious warnings. F!Reader SUMMARY: Three days after the Shibuya Incident in the midst of the aftermath Y/N is trying to sort out her emotions and deal with what happened. A/N: Feedback is always appreciated! If you want to be tagged in upcoming fics/drabbles, please let me know!!! Thank you, and enjoy <3 Considering there are alterations to Shibuya: PLEASE, keep your replies/comments spoiler free, to ensure the unaltered enjoyment of other readers. Thank you!

Curses had claimed Shibuya. Half the district was gone, reduced to ashes and debris. Thousands of human lives were eradicated, leaving nothing but pain and emptiness in the hearts of those who miraculously survived the tragedy.

The remaining sorcerers tried their best to evacuate those who lived too close to the newly created wastelands of Tokyo. There was no telling how long it would take to get rid of all the curses, if that was even possible. Therefore saving and protecting all non-sorcerers had priority.

Within record time Y/N had scouted through the rackages in search of any survivors and brought them to Shoko for treatment. It was a tiring task, not only physically but mentally. Seeing the devastating destruction caused by Sukuna, Kenjaku and the countless curses truly took a toll on everyone.

All it took was a few hours to save all the survivors. But this small win was overshadowed by the carnage left behind. Every sorcerer had returned to the Tokyo Jujutsu High grounds, even the ones from Kyoto decided to stay. Considering the immediate threat posed by the countless curses roaming the streets it was the most logical decision for everyone to stay and aid the Tokyo sorcerers.

Many of the sorcerers made it their daily mission to eradicate as many curses as they possibly could, it was their way of dealing with the losses. Among those was Y/N. After the incident she focused all her attention on the vile creatures, spending every minute on the battlefield. As one of the teachers at Jujutsu High she had always made it her priority to keep everyone safe. If going on a rampage and killing curses left and right was the only way for her to ensure no one else would be hurt, so be it.

Just after killing the last of the evil spirits in front of her she fell to her knees. The exhaustion of the past few days took over her body, but she fought against it.

“You can’t keep going like this, Y/N.” Nanami Kento’s voice sounded from a bit further away, as his feet slowly carried him closer to her kneeling form. The blonde sorcerer seemed exhausted as well, carrying scars and injuries from the massacre days ago.

“Sure I can. I have to.” She responded, but her words didn’t hold as much strength as she had intended. And when she stood up she realised how much her body trembled.

“When was the last time you slept?” He inquired with this slightly disappointing tone that made her feel aggravated all too quickly.

“For your information I slept last night.” By now he was standing before her, watching with eagle eyes as she brushed the dirt off her clothes.

“How many hours?” His question earned him an eye-roll in response. Why did he feel the need to act like this right now when he knew the current situation better than anyone.

She refrained from answering, knowing fully well that in her agitated state she might say something spiteful or mean that she’d regret later on.

“You cannot keep this up.” His voice now held a more stern tone as he tried desperately to get through to her. However, the more he tried to reason with her the more she resisted.

“I’m not a child, Kento, I can take care of myself. Thank you.” She had never raised her voice at him like this before, but his nagging really was not what she needed right now. While she knew that it came from a good place, it fell on deaf ears. She had lost too many people, had watched close friends be slaughtered like pigs in front of her.

“Obviously you can’t!” He yelled back at her when she had already turned on her heel.

“You’re a teacher, don’t you think you should be a role model to your students?” Y/N couldn’t see it but she knew that he wore a pleading expression on his face, simply with the way his voice sounded almost desperate to get through to her.

“I am!” Was all she shouted back at him before walking further away, out of his field of vision. She had to get away from him right now even if she knew that he only meant well.

Didn’t he understand that she needed this? That she needed to exorcize as many curses as she could? That she needed to make these streets safer for everyone?

Nanami knew her better than anyone. And he knew that she needed this, but not ‘to make the streets safer’. Not because Exorcizing curses was the simple job of a sorcerer.

No. Y/N needed this for herself more than anything.

Once she had walked further away, when she was out of earshot, she once more collapsed, physically and mentally. She dropped to her knees, not caring that the tiny stones on the ground would leave marks on her knees even through her pants, and balled her hands into fists. She made no attempts in stopping the tears that started filling her eyes, eventually rolling down her cheeks and dropping onto the ruined ground, which once was a bustling street filled with life.

Minutes passed in which Y/N cried without a care in the word if anyone saw her. The overwhelming guilt she felt caused her chest to tighten and burn as if it was on fire.

“Survivor’s Guilt”, is what Shoko had called it when she patched up Y/N’s injuries. “It’s the belief that you did something wrong by surviving when others didn’t.”, she explained it further. Y/N knew that it wasn’t rational to feel like this, but what did that help when she was convinced on a deeply emotional level that by surviving she truly did do something wrong.

“It’s not fair. So many talented and skilled people died, but I survived. Why? It’s just not fair…” She had argumented, but Shoko was quick to smack the back of her head, effectively capturing her full attention. The healer had made it clear to her that she didn’t survive for nothing, that people still needed her. It was enough to give Y/N at least some mental strength, but as soon as she had left Shoko’s infirmary she fell into the habit of not eating, not sleeping and using all her time to hunt down every cursed spirit she could find.

Y/N wasn’t sure how much time had passed, it couldn’t have been more than half an hour, considering the sun was pretty much still at the same spot in the sky. She frankly didn’t care all too much about it either way.

After wiping lazily over her face she finally stood up, skillfully ignoring that her knees felt like dough and her legs trembled. It simply did not matter, she felt as if nothing mattered. At the same time everything mattered.

By now she deeply regretted snapping at Nanami, he was the least person to deserve that. He had always been some sort of role model to Y/N. His moral code in keeping children safe and not letting the youth experience any misery greatly inspired her to become a teacher at Jujutsu High.

She decided to apologise when she saw him next. He’d understand her, she was sure of it. For now she just wanted to get out of here. Her strength was decreasing due to lack of sleep and nutrition. As skilled and talented as she was, she wasn’t arrogant enough to believe she could take on multiple high grade curses in her current status.

Her walk back to the next operating public transportation wasn’t short, giving her plenty of time to think of the exact words she wanted to tell Nanami during her apology and how she’d explain herself. Even though she knew that his maturity wouldn’t expect her to explain anything. He surely knew how she felt. She guessed that he was ridden with the same form of guilt that plagued her mind and heart.

Y/N paid it no mind to the unamused glares and frowns of disapproval she received from strangers on the train. She knew that the blood stains and tears in her clothes were bound to attract the attention of non-sorcerers. Sometimes she’d even jump at the chance to horrify some particularly judgmental bystanders.

“Don’t worry, it’s not my blood.” She’d muse in an assuring tone of voice while showing a smile that seemed far too friendly. Every time, without exception, it would earn a wide-eyed stare.

However, today she was not in the mood to provoke anyone. She settled for mindlessly watching the passing landscape, it was all a blur to her unfocused eyes. Only when the mechanical voice announced the next stop was she ripped out of her thoughts. Due to a quick message she had sent when she stepped into the wagon she was greeted with Ijichi’s soft smile.

The tone between the two had always been kind and casual, almost friendly, which was something Y/N deeply appreciated. Other assistants sometimes didn’t dare to pursue a friendship with sorcerers, especially higher grades. They claimed it was due to professionalism, but the truth was that the assistants didn’t want to get attached to someone who’d end up dying well before their time.

Ijichi, in his gentlemanly behaviour, held open the car door for Y/N. Behind his nervous smile was a wave of worry when he glanced at the countless cuts and bruises that littered her body. The dried up blood as well as the torn clothes only added to his inner turmoil. Yet, every time he brought up his concerns for her wellbeing she shot him down with a lazy attempt at reassurance. It never worked.

“Has Yuji-kun already talked to you?” He asked with an almost cautious tone after he slipped into the driver’s seat and ignited the engine. Through the rear view mirror he could see how she furrowed her brows in confusion. It was enough of an answer for him.

“He mentioned that he was looking for you.” Ijichi explained further but Y/N only shook her head.

“I’ll find him when I’m at Jujutsu Tech. Thanks for telling me.”

After these words the remainder of the drive was spent in silence. It wasn’t unusual for rides with assistants to be quiet. Most trips with Ijichi however, were spent chatting about missions and the current state of affairs.

This time the assistant kept quiet. Perhaps because he wasn’t fully well yet either. Shoko had only allowed him to operate the car he was currently driving. Everything else was strictly off limits to prevent him from overworking. A trait shared by seemingly everyone and their mother in the sorcerer society.

The two of them reached the school grounds quickly and while absent-mindedly muttering a “Thank you.” Y/N stepped out of the car, heading straight towards Shoko’s infirmary to get her wounds treated.

The eerie silence in her mind, surrounded by the noise of nature in the form of birds chirping and leaves rustling, were all that filled the air, but not for long. Before she even made it halfway to her destination she was suddenly stopped by a voice yelling her name from a bit further away. It was a voice she had come to know well.

“What’s up, Yuji?” She asked as she turned towards him. The boy stopped a few feet away, despite seemingly running he was barely out of breath.

“Y/L/N-Sensei, you’re not forgetting about later right?” The pink haired boy almost seemed timid and hesitant but Y/N didn’t read into it. There was no reason for something like that at a time like this.

“About the little get-together later? I won’t forget, Yuji.” She had to force a little smile onto her lips as she reassured him. It seemed to be all the young student wanted to talk about as he quickly nodded and shot her a smile, that seemed far too out of place for the mindset she surrounded herself with at the moment, before he turned around and disappeared into the direction he came from.

Y/N didn’t like that Gojo was throwing a get-together at a time like this, just days after a devastating tragedy that caused pain and loss to so many people. Yet, another part of her could understand it somehow. Even though he acted like an idiot at times, she knew his heart was at the right place. She figured quickly that he wanted to bring them all together to strengthen the bond of the remaining sorcerers, ultimately making it easier to rely on each other. Perchance he even had a plan to deal with the curses, and most of all, the curse user formerly known as Geto Suguru.

With all this in her mind she finally made her way to Shoko. The breeze, that was far too warm for this time of the year, went by her without any recognition. All she could do was try not to get lost in her thoughts, her planned apology to Nanami still lingering in the back of her mind.

“You’re looking great again…” Shoko’s voice was filled to the brim with sarcasm.

“Thanks, always a pleasure to see you.” Y/N attempted to respond with the same level of mockery as she rolled her eyes, but her tone sounded more annoyed than anything else.

“Is that why you’re making it a habit to visit every day with new injuries? Y/N, you can’t keep doing that.” It was uncommon for the (now again) heavy smoker to show this level of concern for others. She was well aware that her fellow sorcerers could handle themselves well.

“Damn, I heard that before.” This time Y/N’s words were dripping with sarcasm. There was no ill-will in her voice, but Shoko immediately realised that she had more luck getting through a wall than her patient’s thick skull. With a sigh she simply decided to drop the subject.

Only mere minutes later all of Y/N’s injuries were healed, or at least taken care of and she left Shoko’s infirmary after voicing her gratitude.

“Should I pick you up later, or..?” Y/N didn’t answer the question that was yelled after. She heard it, but she wouldn’t acknowledge it. Why would it matter if Shoko picked her up for the stupid get-together? It came as a surprise that Shoko even cared about one of Gojo’s plans.

The sky had cleared up within the past minutes, allowing the sun to shine down on the scenery and dipping the landscape in a plethora of orange hues. However, the colour spectacle went unnoticed by Y/N, whose feet carried her to her assigned room. Out of courtesy, or rather practicality, the higher-ups had decided to offer the empty dormitories to the remaining few sorcerers. Considering the school was protected by barriers, this served as a means to keep them safe more so than goodwill.

Time passed by quickly, or maybe it didn’t, but Y/N was simply too caught up in her own thoughts. She could feel herself being dragged down once more, spiralling into the depths of her sorrow. She thought that maybe as soon as she reached the room the thoughts would dissipate, but nothing of that sort happened.

Seemingly like a zombie trapped in her own mind she undressed herself, showered, dried herself off and changed into a set of clean clothes. She settled for the only black dress she wore. Taking into account the circumstances it felt fitting to wear black, even if Gojo would possibly find a way to bring colour into everything.

Maybe this get-together was exactly what everyone needed right now. Maybe this was a chance to reconnect and move on. Maybe, just maybe, Gojo’s idea wasn’t too bad.

After checking the clock on her phone for the nth time Y/N to get going. Arriving early was always fashionable, wasn’t it? Besides, she knew that Nanami, as much as he disliked these gatherings, would most probably be there early as well. She’d simply take the time to talk to him and apologise. This way she had a chance of enjoying the rest of the late afternoon, possibly even with Nanami next to her.

And wouldn’t you know it, just like she had predicted, the blonde sorcerer stood outside the venue, glancing at the watch on his wrist. To no one’s surprise he wore the same white suit as always. He likely owned it multiple times to make dressing up in the morning easier, a simple fact she had never cared to think about before. Now it almost seemed hilarious to her. Nonetheless there was a frown on her lips. Knowing that she had to act like a responsible grown up and apologise for her earlier outburst left a bitter taste in her mouth.

“Kento! Hey.” She greeted him almost hesitantly, if he noticed the nervousness in her voice he didn’t show it. He simply greeted her back while turning towards her.

“Can I talk to you about earlier this morning?” What a stupid way to have phrased it. Of course she could, she evidently had the ability to do so. Internally she scolded herself instantly over her choice of words.

“If you want to apologise, there’s no need for it, Y/N.” Here he went again, being the ever considerate and thoughtful person she knew him as. The expression on his face was almost soft, something he only showed around a small number of people, which she considered herself lucky to be a part of.

Before she even had the chance to respond to him he spoke up once more, prompted by the uncertainty shown on her features.

“I’m serious. It’s a difficult time for everyone, we’re all on edge. It’s alright.” Nanami uttered with a tone so full of understanding that it almost blew her away. Then again, despite him being the youngest of the adult sorcerers, he had always been the most mature one and the voice of reason.

For a few short minutes a comfortable silence was shared between the two, until Y/N glanced over his white suit and remembered her train of thought from before.

“You decided to keep wearing that same white suit? Don’t you have anything different to wear?” Y/N’s almost playful glance revealed the nature of her words, there was no malice or ill-intent. She prided herself on being the only one who could get him to engage in conversations in a light-hearted manner.

“Why? Don’t you think it looks handsome?” Nanami’s response came quickly, eliciting a chuckle from her.

“Oh, it definitely does.” She replied back, unable to help herself from chuckling once more as she saw the slight smile forming on his lips. At this very moment it almost felt like nothing bad had ever happened.

“Y/N, there is one thing you have to do for me.” Nanami spoke up once again. Y/N didn’t pay too much attention to his somewhat more seriously sounding tone, that was simply his nature.

“You can't keep me from getting absolutely shitfaced drunk.” If this get-together was anything like Gojo’s previous festivities there would be an unlimited amount of alcohol provided. Even if the host of these gatherings never drank an ounce of it himself.

When Nanami didn’t respond or smile at her quick remark she straightened her posture and looked at him expectantly.

“You have to forgive yourself for everything that went down the other day.” He continued then, judging by his tone it was clear as day what exactly he was referring to.

Without any sort of warning a wave of guilt washed over Y/N. Her chest tightened at the reminder of how many lives were lost, how many people she couldn’t save. The destruction was terrible. But it wasn’t the source of her pain. Involuntarily her mind wandered to the corpses which had littered the grounds of the Shibuya station. Her lips started to quiver but she was determined not to give in to the tears. No other word was needed, no clarification or elaboration. She knew what he meant.

Nanami didn’t rush her in her response, instead he gave her all the time she needed by waiting patiently. Something she was thankful for, even if he was the only reason she needed time in the first place.

Y/N hardly noticed when the index finger of her right hand started to scrape at her thumb’s cuticle. Her head was turned away, gaze averted from him. A part of her knew that she had to forgive herself. In fact, she knew that there wasn’t anything to forgive herself for since she had done everything in her powers to save as many people as she could. She had done enough. But her heart did not agree with her head. In her heart she had failed the people of Tokyo. She had failed her fellow sorcerers. She had failed herself.

“You can be really annoying sometimes.” She responded after what seemed like forever, allowing a deep sigh to leave her lungs. ‘Mostly when you’re the voice of reason’, she added in her thoughts bitterly while turning her gaze back to him.

“Yes. Maybe.” His words of agreement were simultaneously out of place and so very typical for him, at least when he was with her. It was enough for her to crack an unwanted smile.

She breathed in deeply, once, twice, and another time.

“Okay.” She finally answered his previous request. Both of them knew that Y/N needed more time to actually forgive herself, but it was a step in the right direction. It was an unspoken promise that she’d attempt to do this for him.

Nanami only responded with a proud nod, barely mouthing the word “Good.”

The quick change in atmosphere had almost caused her heart to beat irregularly. A silence hung over them, but this time it was heavier than before.

Y/N needed to shift the mood again, she needed to uplift not only his spirit, but also her own. She knew that otherwise she’d be glum and gloomy during Gojo’s get-together. There had been too much tragedy within a short time, a killjoy was definitely not what any of the sorcerers needed.

“Since you’re forced to attend this get-together, when are you gonna start complaining?” She chuckled, a little forced anyways, as she asked the blonde sorcerer.

“Complaining about what?” It was Shoko’s voice that sounded from behind Y/N, making her turn around and face the healer with a smile. Although Shoko was never full of energy and happiness, she seemed even more dispirited than ever.

Y/N shrugged her shoulders, “You know, about Gojo’s obnoxious attitude, about our tone deaf singing when we get drunk, about music that’s way too loud. The whole thing, really.” It seemed obvious to her that Nanami wouldn’t enjoy any of these things.

Shoko’s brows furrowed, her head tilted ever so lightly and her lips pursed.

“Where do you think we are?” She asked Y/N. A question like this would usually have resulted in the female sorcerer chuckling and replying in an amused tone. However, something about Shoko’s tone made her hesitate.

Y/N turned around towards Nanami once more, ready to smile at him.

Except, he wasn’t there anymore.

In a split second Y/N’s entire world came crashing down on her as the realisation set in that he had never been there in the first place. Images of her fights in Shibuya flashed before her eyes. Imagines consisting of sorcerers dying in front of her because she had been too slow.

A ringing set in her ears, intensifying with each memory that surfaced. The sound became stronger when she remembered finding Nanami again amidst the chaos and rubble of the destroyed Tokyo district. She had watched him fight, she had yelled after him, she had attempted to reach him and aid him.

Y/N swallowed hard, slowly turning towards Shoko again. Her chest tightened enough to leave her breathless. With a bitter smile on her face she lowered her gaze. Reluctantly she forced herself to walk, taking one painful step at a time towards the row of outdoor chairs that were neatly set up in front of the closed casket.

She had saved lives and exorcised many curses in Shibuya. She helped search for survivors and consoled the ones that were left behind after the losses.

Alas, the only thing she would forever remember about that night was how she witnessed Nanami dying right in front of her, when she had been too slow to save him.

Without any form of communication she sat down on one of the chairs in the first row, right in front of Nanami’s picture.

She was soon joined by Shoko who sat down next to her, placing a warm hand on her thigh and rubbing it assuringly. The gesture went unnoticed by Y/N, whose eyes were focused on all the little details she could make out on the picture atop the casket. Details that blurred more and more when her eyes filled with tears upon realising that it was all an illusion.

The arguments, the smiles, the quick light-hearted banter she shared with the blonde man during these last few days. It was nothing more than a beautiful hallucination.

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