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sunnami · 7 months

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you'd be the love of my life when i was young

summary: gryffindors wear their heart on their sleeve when they fall in love. slytherins keep their heart locked far away to keep it from breaking.

pairing: poly!marauders x reader (sirius x reader, remus x reader, lily x reader, and james x reader)

tags: slight angst, fluff, lucius malfoy, happy ending

note: i have a chemistry quiz due in 50 minutes but this takes priority. . . i haven't written in a while so forgive my rusty writing skills, they've only been let out from the basement today. not proofread, we die like the marauders. (title is taken from the song, 21 by gracie abrams, because that's roughly around the age jily die. hehe.)

They said when you fell in love with the right people, everything would fall in place after.

What a load of bullshit.

You had come to a conclusion one winter morning, laying in the Gryffindor common room dressed in your woolly, green jumper. You rested on the worn-out leather seat, nervously fiddling with your fingers as you stared at the ceiling, thinking about how it was going terribly wrong. How funny it was, that the 30th of December greeted you with an existential crisis instead of presents and hot chocolate.

There was something quite wrong with you, you had noticed for the past few months.

Every time Sirius Black smiled at you, showing off his pearly canines and the crinkles by his deep-grey eyes, you would experience a painful, tightening sensation in your chest — like someone was squeezing at your heart. Most people knew Sirius Black, the prankster, but you were lucky enough to know Sirius, the kind and spirited boy who had a heart that loved fiercely more than anyone you knew.

Cosy afternoons found you in the library with Remus Lupin, and a strange feeling would erupt in your stomach whenever Remus leaned down, and you’d catch a whiff of pine needles and fresh mint. Shaggy, blond hair falling over his eyes as he came to life, talking about your common love for muggle books. He made time feel like an illusion, minutes fading away into hours as the two of you shared stifled giggles, cheeks numb by the time you left the room.

And James, oh James Potter. It was difficult to describe what you felt with him — but with James, the brightest colours in the world couldn’t even compare to him. James was like putting on a pair of brand-new eyeglasses and seeing everything clearly for the first time. And without a doubt, you knew that James would never let you get hurt. But these days, you were weak in the knees as you’d see him across the Great Hall, waving at you excitedly as he bellowed your name, and to come and sit next to them.

Last, but certainly not the least, Lily Evans. Her sweet, airy voice was a warm hug on a cold day. And her actual hugs were second to none — don’t tell Sirius, however, he liked to shift into Padfoot to steal Lily’s title as the queen of cuddling. Lily flowers were delicate, she was anything but. The spitfire of Gryffindor, who would raise her chin and defy anyone who would harass you for hanging out with them.

(“You’re our emotionally constipated Slytherin,” said Lily as she mushed your cheeks, cooing when you tried to glare at her, and the three boys guffawing in the background. They liked to tease you often, being a year younger than them.)

Were you dying?

That was the only plausible explanation to your palpitating heart and rickety knees.

No, it was definitely not because you had gone and fell in love with your best friends.

That was absurd.

You had tried venting to Lucius Malfoy once. Narcissa often doted on you, sneakily leaving treats on your desk before she left for her class, and fussing when you got sick — which was quite often. That meant, when you weren’t with the marauders, you were trailing after the Slytherin power couple, or Severus.

(Lucius curled his lips in disgust, Narcissa sipping tea by his side, failing at hiding her knowing smirk. “I am above such childish matters,” hissed Lucius, scowl deepening when Narcissa laughed heartily, looking happier than she had been since returning home for the holidays. “I do not know why you’d even think to come to me for this.”

You huffed.

Maybe you’d try Severus next.

Naturally, he stormed off the moment Lily’s name fell from your lips.

Your resident seventh-years were confusing.)

Fortunately, you were stripped from your thoughts when the entrance to the common room slammed open, the paintings clamouring as they were disturbed from their slumber. One by one, the marauders piled inside the room, a string of melodious laughter and boisterous conversations following their arrival. Hastily, you sat up, heart thudding against your ribcage. Silence, you wretched beast, you told it. Don’t let them see how I burn for them.

“There you are!” Sirius came into view first, grinning widely as he crossed the room to reach you. “Who said you could be this pretty in the morning, love?”

Ba-dump!

Sirius plopped down head first onto your lap, manoeuvring your hand to comb through his hair as he sighed in contentment. “Bloody hell,” He exhaled shakily, “Last night was the worst one we’ve ever been through.”

Your fingers ghosted through the new scar etched across his sharp cheekbones — it was nothing Madam Pomfrey couldn’t fix, but you still didn’t like the sight of them bruised and wounded. Swiftly, Sirius grabbed your hand and intertwined your own with his. “I’m sorry,” You whispered.

Sirius chuckled tiredly, tightening his hold on you, as though you were a tether that kept him afloat in his sea of nightmares.

(And you were. If only you knew.)

“It’s not your fault,” said Sirius.

Then, your eyes landed on Remus limping towards you, his bare skin littered with scrapes and marks, supported with an arm around James’s broad shoulders. He sent a toothy smile your way, despite the tired lines on his forehead and deep bags beneath his eyes. “Waited up all night for us, huh?”

“I just couldn’t sleep knowing you guys were out there,” You whispered sheepishly. “It’s too dangerous, what happens if something goes terribly wrong, and it costs you your life? We need to tell someone.”

“Everyone who needs to know, already knows.” Remus bit down a pained expression as he sat by your side, head lolling on your shoulder. “This is the best we have for now.”

You didn’t like it.

You didn’t like it at all.

Before you could reply, Remus turned his head, lips feathering against your exposed skin. His voice was low as he said, “‘Sides, it’s our job to worry about you, not the other way around.”

“Well, I apologize for interrupting your job,” You whispered back harshly, wondering if that was all you were to them, a younger friend they felt the need to look after. Oh, how mortifying that would be.

James chuckled from behind you, bending over the back of the couch, he pressed a kiss to the side of your head, lingering for a few moments that felt like an eternity. “You’re too adorable,” said James, tweaking your nose. “Our angry, little Slytherin.”

“I’m not little.” You glowered at him.

“Perhaps not.” James smiled cheekily. “But you’re ours.”

Often times, you had wondered how the five of you came to be so tight-knit, knowing their disdain for most of the Slytherins.

(Little did you know, you smiled at them once in Potions, and they were a goner.)

Something stirred deep in your belly.

You sucked in a breath. “Don’t say things like that, James.”

People could get the wrong idea.

You could get the wrong idea.

“Well, why not?” Lily appeared in your peripheral vision, the scent of blooming wildflowers and fresh rain filling the room. Like the three boys, her skin was sallow from lack of sleep, but her bare face and blinding grin left your heart racing. “It’s true, isn’t it?”

It could be, just not in the way you wanted it to be true.

You sighed. “Class is going to start in a few hours, I should get going.”

“Or,” James began wickedly, throwing a thick blanket onto the floor by the fireplace, and tossing a bunch of throw pillows at Sirius’s face. “We could have a sleepover right here.”

“Sounds good to me,” said Lily merrily, stealing James’s blanket as she placed a pillow beneath her head.

“I really have to go—” You reasoned pathetically.

“Stay,” whispered Sirius without even opening his eyes as he curled his lithe fingers around your wrist. “You being here makes us feel better.”

They were too cruel, saying all these sweet words, not knowing how it drove knives through your heart.

James yawned as he laid on the carpeted floor, hiking the blanket up to his shoulders as he threw a leg over Lily, pulling her close to his chest, nuzzling the crook of her neck. “D’you have your textbooks with you, love?” He asked you drowsily.

“No,” You answered, any other words lodged in your throat.

“That’s fine.” James hummed. “I’ll just get the cloak and sneak into the dungeons later to get the books for you.”

“Sleep,” Remus urged you, unaware how you shivered at his words.

“You can’t be comfortable like that,” You told him in disbelief, watching his neck bend at an angle to lay on your shoulder.

“Trust me,” said Remus gently, eyelashes tickling your skin, “I’m right where I want to be.”

You had grown silent for a few beats, unaware how Sirius’d opened his eyes, staring at your worried expression.

(How could one person be so perfect, he wondered.)

“You alright, darling?” He reached out to trace the curve of your jaw with his thumb, the palm of his hand holding your face as though you were a pureblood’s antique treasure. (Mine, mine, mine, his heart screamed.)

But like the Slytherin you were, you lied as easily as you breathed.

“I’m fine.”

As you laid in between Remus and Sirius, watching the peaceful rise of Lily and James’s chests, you had come to a daunting realization.

You were irrevocably and agonizingly in love with your best friends.

And because fate liked to spit in your face, the four of them were already in a beautiful, committed relationship.

Who were you to get in the way of that?

—

They would understand, you convinced yourself.

They would understand that you had to stay away from them. You had to protect your heart and keep it safe. The marauders were a dangerous bunch, and they had played the biggest prank on you, and by Merlin, would you fall for this particular prank over and over again if it meant you could hear their voices and fall into their embrace.

But you couldn’t stay. They would only crush your heart otherwise.

If Gryffindors wore their heart on their sleeves when they fell in love, Slytherins protected theirs with every fibre of their being, locking it in a cage where no one else can have the power to break it.

Like what any love-stricken teenager would do in the face of heartbreak, you began to ignore the objects of your affections — ignoring the way your soul called out to theirs.

It wasn’t as obvious the first few days. You would escape their company under the ruse of studying for McGonagall and Flitwick’s practical tests.

(“They’re notoriously difficult after all,” You told them, a nervous laugh accompanying your lie. Peter eyed you curiously, noticing small details the others could not see — your quivering lips, your nails digging into your palms, and the way your eyes wouldn’t meet any of theirs. “I just don’t want to fail.”

You could have cried at the way James held the back of your head as he placed a soft kiss on your forehead. “You’ll do well, love. You always do.”

“You can study with me, if you want,” Remus quickly offered. “I’m not as good as James in transfiguration, but I can definitely teach better than those two.”

“Hey!” Sirius exclaimed in mock offence.

“Thanks, it’s sweet of you to offer,” You told them, shifting your weight awkwardly from one foot to the other. “But—”

“Say less, darling,” Lily interjected kindly, wrapping her scarf around your neck. She smiled at you, holding both your cheeks in her palms. “They’re the worst lot to study around, I know. Just don’t study too hard, okay? Take breaks, have a cup of tea now and then, and remember it’s okay to ask for help — don’t give me that face — if it gets too overwhelming, just ask. We’re here for you in every way you need us.”

Oh.

You were well and truly screwed.

“Thanks,” You croaked.)

But it was getting harder and harder to come up with excuses.

(“Wotcher!” Sirius grinned, encasing you in a tight hug after bumping into you in the corridor. “Haven’t seen you in a while, busy bee. Fancy a lunch with us in Hogsmeade?”

You scrunched your nose, red and bitten from the winter frost, stepping away from him and ignoring the way his face fell. “I. . . I can’t. I’ve got practice with the Frog Choir.”

Sirius shoved his hands in his trouser pockets. “S’alright. I can wait and pick you up right after, then we’ll swing by that shop you really like—”

“I can’t, Sirius,” You interrupted harshly, wrapping your arms around your chest as your gaze dropped to the ground. “Sorry. I just. . . I’ll just catch you some other time.”

Sirius flinched. “Sure, love. Other time, yeah?”

But only the wind replied.

Saturday came, and along with it was the long-awaited match between Gryffindor and Slytherin. James, decked out in his uniform, bounded over to you at the Slytherin’s side of the Great Hall, oblivious to the death glares some of your housemates had sent his way. He wrapped his arms around you from behind, lifting you from your seat.

“It’s Quidditch day, pidge!” James tilted his head, awfully resembling a lost, confused puppy. “Why aren’t you dressed yet? It’s the game of games! Even Remus is announcing the game later.”

You bit your lip before responding. “I’m not going, James.”

“What?” He furrowed his brows. “Why not?”

Ever since you had become friends with James Potter in your first year, you had never missed a single game of his. Except for the one time you had fallen sick during his match against Hufflepuff — and the moment he knew you were ill, the game ended in less than two minutes, by his sheer determination to get by your side quickly and make sure you weren’t alone.

You sighed. “I don’t know, James, I’m just not feeling up to it today.”

It was a big, fat lie, and he knew it too.

You didn’t go to his match later that day.

It was one of the biggest losses James had ever experienced — he wasn’t talking about Quidditch.)

Your housemates were beginning to realize was something was off as well. They might not be particularly fond of the Gryffindors that captured your heart, but they were fond of you, and they guarded their own.

You had a stare-down with Regulus Black in the common room — and you weren’t about to lose — before he blinked and asked, “What did my brother do?”

“Nothing,” You replied, pretending to be engrossed with your herbology textbook.

Severus rolled his eyes before plucking the book out of your hands. “Spit it out, woman. We’ve had to watch you mope around pathetically for days now. It’s irritating the rest of us.”

You sniffled. “Then just leave me alone! No one asked you to check up on me!”

“Unfortunately, we can’t.” Severus took a seat beside Regulus. With a pained grimace, he said, “So you can. . . pour your heart out to us.”

“I can’t.” You wailed. “I’m a Slytherin, we’re the worst at that.”

Regulus shrugged his shoulders. “It’s true. We’re hopeless.”

“But,” He raised his wand, “We do speak in jinxes and curses.”

“Don’t you dare!” You blubbered, wiping at your tears — but somehow, without having to express it in words, they understood, and you had felt lighter.

Still, you missed them.

“This is pathetic.” Lucius enters the common room, Narcissa holding onto his arm, watching the scene before him with blank eyes. “Black, Snape, get out, you’re only making whatever this is, worse.”

Narcissa was by your side in an instant, dabbing at your wet eyes and cheeks with a handkerchief that cost more than your life. “Hush now, darling. What’s wrong, hm? Was it that idiot cousin of mine? Don’t worry, Lucius can tell his father, and we’ll have them begging at your feet by tomorrow.”

You cried louder.

“I jest, I jest.” Narcissa softly chuckled, pulling your hair away from your face as she tugged you close. “Please tell us what’s wrong. It’s been awful seeing you like this for the past few days.”

Lucius sat on the loveseat across you, resting his feet atop the glass coffee table. “Yes, I beg you — do as she says, for the love of Merlin. But, really, what else did you expect, associating yourself with that ragtag of miscreants?”

Narcissa glared at him.

Lucius raised his arms in surrender.

Narcissa clicked her tongue before returning her attention to you, eyes softening at your tear-stricken face. She smiled, albeit sadly, as she said, “Perhaps, I know what is wrong.” She gestured to the way you clutched at the front of your shirt. “It is the matters of the heart, is it not?”

You nodded weakly. “I love them.”

“And they, you,” said Narcissa. “So, what is wrong?”

“I love them!” You hiccuped.

“Unfortunately.” Lucius handed you a tissue. “The whole of Hogwarts knows this already, so I do not understand why you’re blowing snot all over my fiancé’s robes about it.”

“They don’t feel the same way about me,” You confessed with a sob.

Lucius stared at you incredulously. “Please do not tell me that you are this daft.”

“What do you mean?” You asked him through narrowed, teary eyes, Narcissa rubbing the tips of your numb fingers from crying so much.

“I did not sign up for this.” Lucius rubbed at his temples as he stood up. “I will only say this once, so make sure you are listening. Those Gryffindor idiots are so disastrously in love with one another — let me finish, damn you — and if you cannot see that they love you too, then it is your own fault. It physically pains me to see the way they smile when you are near. They would move the earth for you, and they would shake the heavens for you.”

—

Gryffindors must have hearts made of steel, because you didn’t know how they could be so brave, to look fear right in the eyes and say: I’m ready.

Because you surely weren’t. You were headed towards your usual spot in the courtyard by the clock tower, legs heavy and swell deep in your throat. Then, you found them, looking so achingly beautiful under the sunlight, huddled together for warmth as they smiled and laughed at lame puns and mistimed jokes.

Did you have a place with them?

You were about to find out.

“Hey,” You greeted once you were right in front of them. A month of evading them, and now you were here. It was like finding a piece of your soul that you had lost.

(For them, seeing you was like finally being able to breathe again.)

“Hey,” said Lily, devoid of any warmth, and that broke you.

Bravery was poison, you decided. A trap for weak-hearted fools like you.

Sirius shot James a look before clenching his jaw. “No choir practice today? No study sessions with Cissa or Reg? Wait, no, I’ve got it. Slughorn’s dinner party? Or is it detention with McGonagall today? Does her highness finally feel up to talking to the peasants?”

You inhaled sharply. “Never mind. This was a bad idea.”

But this — is what you deserved. You had hurt them badly, so it was only right for them to stomp on your heart for everyone to see, just as you did to them many times this month.

A sob tore from your lips as you swivelled on your heels, ready to flee the scene and never show your face to anyone else ever again. Yet, before you could leave, Remus clamped his hand over your wrist.

“Why?” He stared at you, searching for anything that could explain your sudden behaviour. Remus looked at you with such emotion, tightly holding onto you — but never enough to hurt, because Remus could never be capable of hurting you. He’d die before he would ever cause you pain.

(You made him feel unafraid of the moon.)

“Was. . . was it something I did?” Remus asked, laying his wounds bare for you to see. “Was it me?”

“I love you!” You shouted in the midst of panic — you had never wanted to cause Remus to doubt himself. Your loud declaration had caught the attention of some, but you stood on, curling your fists firmly. You needed to do this.

“I love you.” You said once more, breathlessly, staring right into James’s eyes. Such a beautiful shade of hazel. “I love each one of you. And it. . . it hurts right here.” Tears dripped from your eyes to the side of your chin as you splayed your hand over where your heart rested.

“Because you don’t feel the same.”

The four of them simply gazed at you, slack-jawed and wide-eyed.

You took that as confirmation for what you had been fearing all along.

“And that’s okay if you don’t,” You snivelled, unable to see clearly with the streams of tears in your eyes. You thought of how Sirius melted at Lily’s touch and how Remus was the anchor to James’s wild streak. How they all complemented each other and fit perfectly like puzzle pieces. “Just give me a few months, and I’ll get over it. It’s a stupid crush anyway, it’s my fault. The four of you are perfect together, how could—”

“Shut up,” James hissed before cupping your face and pulling you in for a kiss. Cherries and pumpkin pasties. He kissed you deeply once more before pressing his lips to your eyes, desperately washing away your tears with his devotion. “Was that it? We could have been doing this ages ago.”

“What?” You rasped, knees buckling at the weight of his gaze.

James only smiled, stealing your third kiss.

Sirius pulled your hand, his arm encasing your waist as you stumbled to his chest. Like James, he kissed you fervently, like he wanted to chase off all your fears and doubts. His lips were warm against yours — firewhiskey. You wanted to be burnt by his flames again and again. He held you close, committing every inch to memory.

(You were art that he wanted to worship.)

He kissed your forehead. “We love you, daft girl.”

He kissed both of your eyes, chuckling when a new wave of tears came. “We have loved you ever since you burnt my mother’s howler in fourth year, and gave us poorly-knitted sweaters for Christmas.”

“I love you,” said Sirius. “As certain as the spring that arrives after winter, I love you.”

You snuffled. “I. . . I don’t understand.”

Remus stepped in your line of sight to place his jacket over you — it was Sirius’s leather jacket, really, but Remus liked to claim it occasionally. He bundled you in earmuffs and rested his chin atop your head, exhaling in relief. “I thought it was me.”

You shook your head, clinging to the front of his shirt. “No, never. It was me. I’m sorry.”

Remus grinned wolfishly, eyes swooping down to your kiss-stained lips. (There you were, standing in the snow that threatened to melt, eyes rimmed with tears, hair wildly ablaze from the cold breeze, cheeks damp and red — but how devastatingly beautiful you were.) “May I?”

You nodded. “P-Please.”

Blueberries and dark chocolate. Remus whispered against your lips, “If it wasn’t already clear, the feeling is bloody mutual — we love you, just as the moon loves the sun enough to chase after it every day.” He grabbed your hand and placed it over his heart, you were surprised to see him holding back tears of his own. “All my life, I thought I was this monster who didn’t deserve to live. But you, all of you, make me selfish enough to want to belong here.”

He kissed you desperately, words of adoration and love falling from his lips.

Finally, your eyes settled on Lily. You waited for her reaction with a bated breath.

You hadn’t expected for her to burst into tears as she rushed over to you.

“Don’t you ever do that again,” said Lily angrily before circling you in her embrace, burying her nose in your hair. You hugged her back, drowning in her scent and warmth. “You are deserving of all the things you want, so don’t run away — if you run, we’d follow you, idiot girl.”

Then, Lily captured your lips with her own.

She tasted like happy endings.

note: 4k words and 6 hours later, here we are! let it be known i was THE poly marauders enthusiast years ago. i always wanted one with lily in the polycule so here we are. this is me manifesting my college romance, y'all. look away. anyways, i hoped u enjoyed it!! brought a smile to your face and all!! might make a part two for more fluff and to establish more relationship dynamics since this was written on a whim ;D also i planned a cute scene with peter as well, so i'll just write that in part two el em ay yo.

#james potter x reader #sirius black x reader #remus lupin x reader #lily evans x reader #poly!marauders x reader #marauders x reader #poly!marauders fluff #hp imagine #hp x reader #reader insert #marauders imagine #hp fluff #hp angst #marauders fluff #marauders angst

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cowyolks · 1 year

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HER MAJESTY,

PART TWO OF KING AU (Read Part One Here)

Prompt: King! König x Female Reader

Summary: Your King indulges you on your wedding day. For you are his new wife and queen.

Words: 6.3 k

Warnings: Fingering, Oral (f receiving), Spit, Voyeurism, Public Sex (Bedding Cermony), mentions of running a train, P in V Sex, Cum Eating, Creampie, Slight Breeding Kink. Please note that these are inaccurate scenes of Weddings, Bedding Ceremonies and Coronations.

A/N: Whew! I had to take multiple breaks with this one guys. Please enjoy and tell me what you think! Part Three?

“Pst,”

“Pst!”

Your eyes flickered around the warm halls of the keep, several torches illuminating the corridors as the sun set through the stain glass windows. Still, you could not pinpoint where the calling noise came from.

Your fingers reached for the singular dagger you had secretly hidden against your thigh. Even in your wedding dress, you didn’t like being defenseless, perhaps it was the General in you.

Before you could brush off the odd pestering, a warm hand fell over your mouth, halting and muffling your yelp all in one motion. With a tug, you fell backwards, darkness invading your senses as you scanned the familar room you were pulled in.

An opposite hand held onto your wrist, stopping you from using the dagger clutched between your fingers. You released the weapon once you heard the familiar chuckle of your promised.

“Easy, Maus.”

You whirled around, the sound of your heels echoing in the empty room.

“You’re lucky I didn’t kill you!” You whispered harshly into the darkness, only the shine of your earrings, the white of your wedding dress and König’s crown glinted against the pitch black.

“I suppose I am… lucky that is,” his words were filled with pride and satisfaction, you imagined his pupils blown out and hungry looking. Like a wolf stalking upon sheep.

“Why’d you pull me in here? I’m supposed to be meeting in the throne room shortly.”

His hands weaved around the middle of your back, pulling you tight against his chest. His form massive and daunting as he enveloped you. He smelt of cherry wine and sage, a combination that made your legs weak.

“It’s the last time I’d see you before you were my wife, I wanted to leave this part of us on a good note, ja?”

You couldn’t help the little smile that flew upon your lips. It’s a word you’d never grow tired of, his wife, the queen.

“Whatever you plan on doing, we don’t have time.” You scolded, although your hands were already betraying you, your palms slowly sliding down his chest, the softness of his cloak like velvet under your skin.

“How do you expect me to simply act as a King when you’re dressed like a Goddess, hm?” He leant forward, his mouth chasing downwards to your own lips, catching them in a mouthwatering kiss.

He pulled away briefly, one of his canines biting harshly upon the flesh of your bottom lip. You whined at the painful sting, relishing in the feeling of arousal building under your dress.

“We don’t have time.” You practically whined, thighs rubbing together almost pathetically.

“I know.” Your King whispered into the dark, the intention in his voice the exact opposite of what he said. His tone was needy, desperate.

Quicker than a flash of lightning, he flipped you, your ass pressed harshly against his growing length in his trousers. His chin pressed down against your collar bone, his body morphing into the unintentional arch of your back. His foot kicked your ankles apart, spreading your legs so he could fit his feet between your hunched over form. You shouldn’t, but you will.

Anything for the king.

König tilted his head, his lips greedily sucking upon your pulse point, quickly you jerked back, eyes narrowed as you looked him in the eyes.

“No marks…�� you sounded, you did little to hide the disappointment in your voice, your body yearned to be painted in bruises and lovebites of your King’s doing. But alas, you had a reputation to uphold.

König pouted slightly, a rumbling chuckle vibrating from his chest, the vibrations filtering to your back. “I suppose you’re right.” He kissed your temple, before reaching back to your hips, his fingertips squeezing the soft flesh beneath the white lace.

“We have to be quick.” You sighed in defeat, although this defeat reaped plentiful rewards. Rewards in the form of your monstrous fiancé.

“I agree, although you deserve more than a few moments, I’ll promise you more time later tonight.” He vowed, lips finding the soft flesh of your shoulder again.

You reached behind your back, gently palming upon the hard length of his clothed cock, you heard his shaky exhale, just the same as the first time you held his cock. With a nimble finger you twisted upon his belt and buttons.

König hummed, “Cheeky girl, so eager for my cock.”

“Can’t help it.” You found yourself pouting, even more so when König pulled away to inch his trousers down enough for his cock to spring free. Your mouth watered at the sight in the darkness.

“Don’t have time to warm you up. Think you can take it?” He cooed, his large hand pumping his shaft slightly.

You nodded, already beginning to gather your wedding dress to pool around towards the front, revealing your bare back to him, ravishing in the purr that escaped his body.

His hand reached upwards, palm engulfing upon the whole width of your neck, pulling you impossibly close to his body. His other hand guided his cock against your semi-wet cunt, a teasing dance that had you squirming.

“I need words, darling. Tell me you can handle it?”

You squirmed again at the feeling of his spit falling down between your ass, coating your cunt and his hard length in extra slick. It was enough to make you gasp.

“Yes! I’ll be good, I can handle it.” You pleaded, cheek nearly smacking against the stone wall near your head when he pushed inside your walls in a painful stretch. He groaned at the tightness, just as your vision went black from the stinging pain and fullness you felt when his cock tore into you.

One of his long arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you down impossibly deep upon his length, enough to make you squeak pathetically.

“That’s it darling, stay standing for me.” The King whispered in your ear, it was then you noticed just how little feeling you had in your legs, his arm holding majority of your weight. So much so that the tips of your toes were the only thing brushing against the cobblestone floors in each wicked thrust of his hips.

It was pathetic how much you unraveled around him. How each snap of his hips and scorching kiss amongst your neck brought you to oblivion.

It was delightfully sinful, having your soon to be husband ravish you in the innocent white of your wedding dress.

At the rate he was going, you wouldn’t last much longer, he seemed to pinpoint this too. König pressed his thumb to your clit, adding delightful pressure all the while still holding you up.

“Can’t take… much more,” he whined pathetically against your shoulder, getting himself lost in the tightness of your soppy cunt. It was simply enchanting watching such a giant fold to you.

It didn’t take long for you to see stars, hands reaching back to hold onto him as you clenched in preparation, with a few more feral thrusts against your walls you released with a moan, only able to savor the feeling for a moment before König took the liberty of burying into you.

His arms flexed against your middle, pulling you in a vice as he filled you, his panting the only thing that could be heard in the silent room. Warm seed ran down your thighs, making you snap out of the blissed out sensation and focusing on the chiming of wedding bells.

Your own wedding bells.

“Fuck, We’re late!”

It was delightful how easy it was for König to put on a show. While he didn’t necessarily like the attention, he was never shy to show you off, or his kingdom.

The palace was decorated in the most lavish of gems, diamonds and gold. Among with the hundred of white roses and tulips that happened to be your favorite.

He always knew. He always did.

Hundreds upon hundreds of voices chatted through the large doors that would open in a couple of moments. Several civilians, nobles, your knights, and even other kings and queens awaited for this day. A day so incredibly special to you.

A day you’d become the King’s wife.

“Ready?” Your second in command asked from beside you, someone who would stand position to you against all your other knights on your way to the alter.

The knights represented a move of power towards the King. All your ranks and achievements would be flaunted all the while as you wore a white dress.

With a nod of your head, your second in command opened the large oak doors, the swinging of the hinges alerting the people that you were coming, and with a small inhale you began to descend alone, head held high as your searching eyes found your King.

He was there, a small smirk upon his lips as his eyes drank you in. The darkness of his chambers didn’t do him Justice, now in the warm setting sun, shaded by the beautiful gleams of stained glass did he look truly ethereal.

His auburn hair the color of flickering candlelight and warm cider parted for the iron-clad crown proudly displayed on his temples, the crown held no jewels, simply a testament to his power, made strictly of steel.

He was dressed in the colors of his nation, robes of red and white adorned his board shoulders and chiseled chest. His trousers were a dark color, that matched the black sigil illustrated on his cloak.

Your steps were sure, even with the thousands of eyes upon you. Your King’s eyes twinkled as he took you in. His gaze was the only thing you saw.

König reached out, his palm open to you, open to your new union. You took it with greedy hands, a smile upon your lips as you thought of how he was yours. Yours, yours, yours.

The officiants speech were blurred, a messy contraption of words you were too occupied to hear, until a heavy cloth landed upon your shoulders. The familiar black material that smelt like cherry wine and sage covered your dress. It dwarfed in comparison of your body, as most did when it came to the King.

“May your bride be forever under your protection. For she now carries your Sigil and name, for this day until the end of her days.” The officiant’s voice boomed in the silent throne room.

With those words, you turned to König, whose gaze was nothing short of undying affection. While he was a ruthless king in battle, he was also a ruthless lover. Never one to settle for less than perfection.

“Exchange rings.” The officiant ordered.

A small smile crossed your lips, as you pulled the ring out from your awaiting palm. The ring you would present to your King was something you had been pleased to make yourself. A band of gold, heavily intricate with weaving vines, a maze that encircled the entirety. You placed it upon his ring finger in pride, just as he planted an exquisite ring with a beautiful ruby rhinestone. Simple, yet elegant.

Then a ceremonial dagger was placed between your hands, the gold of the shaft glimmered and the hilt felt heavy in your hand.

You knew what to do as König offered his palm out to you. No hesitation in his mind as you gently held his wrist, hand strong and unwavering as you slid the dagger across his palm, a small dribble of blood pooling around the inflicted wound.

His face remained stolid, eyes only twinkling in affection as you passed the dagger to him. You presented your hand to him, just as his gaze bore into you, the crown making him seem even taller than he already was.

The cold metal stung against the crease of your palm, yet you couldn’t break away from his stare as you refused to flinch. Only looking down when the warmth of your blood fell from the wound.

König nodded to the officiant, then back to you. He held his hand out, offering you a permanent bond by his side. Offering you him.

You took his hand without question.

The officiant stepped forward, wrapping a soft ribbon upon your conjoined hands.

“With the bond of blood, man and woman become one, one unit, one nation, one love. I present to you husband and wife.”

The nation wept in happiness, loud applause drowning out from your ears as König bent down, attaching your lips in such a sweet and delicate kiss that it hurt your very heart.

Your Husband. Your King. And soon you’d be his Quee-

“Among with the wedding of your King, he has requested a coronation for his wife.”

Your breathing hitched, you did not think that your coronation would come soon. Maybe a week after your wedding, but now? Not that it mattered too much, you’d had time to gather yourself for your new rule as Queen Mother. Now it was only time to fulfill your promise to König. Your husband.

With a steady hand, König unwrapped the ribbon that created your bond, instead settling to create another one. Husband and Wife. King and Queen.

Your second in command ascended again, holding a velvet piece in his hand, something that protected a crown made of the same iron material that König’s was made of. Yours however was designed thinner, the rungs were taller and slender. A crown of simple elegance.

König nodded towards your captain, taking the crown gently in two hands. His body ascending in front of his people as he faced the crowds. You maneuvered as taught, back towards your people as your eyes fell to the King.

You dropped your knee, falling in front of him as your head tilted up. Awaiting your new position.

“You swear to uphold this Kingdom? Cherish it as one of your own, to protect them, shield them, and bear their burdens?” His deep voice rumbled over the kingdom, almost enough to shake the walls of his keep.

“I do.”

“And do you swear to serve the King? For his council is yours, and your council is his. Do you swear to rule together as one single force?”

“I do.” You vowed, head dropping slightly as your hands shook at your sides.

Fingers traced against your jaw, before a heavy object was placed against your head, the weight of the crown finally sinking in.

“Rise, my love.” His soft voice lured you to stand. To turn towards your people with a look of great pride. With his aid, you stood tall.

König took a step forward, his chest puffed up slightly as his eyes burnt towards his kingdom.

“For all to witness, here is my wife. Long live the Queen!” His voice boomed, just as the crowd chanted the words over and over again.

You gulped when König dropped to a knee, his eyes soft and dark at the same time as he took you in like a Goddess to be worshipped. The chants of “Long live the Queen!” vanishing as you gestured for him to stand beside you once more.

You stood shoulder to shoulder, hands intertwined as the two of you took in your kingdom.

Chatter rang throughout the large dining hall in merry celebration. Your lips were likely stained with the most lavish of cherry wines that König had been saving for this special date.

Now the two of you sat upon a large table overlooking the nobles and councilmen that took turns singing and dancing while feasting upon the layouts of roasted hog, breads, cheeses, and fresh fruits that heaped in surplus.

“You look divine in that dress.” Your husband’s voice broke your concentration away from the flickering lanterns of the hall.

“I bet you want nothing more than to take it off.” You teased lightly, only picking at your food as your gaze looked else where. Towards five approaching men coming to your table. Many had come, but only to lay gifts on the oak table with a gentle bow, these men however waited for König’s concentration to break from you.

Finally, his stare followed yours, settling upon the men that looked to hold shocking power. Perhaps Kings of their own nations?

“Ah, Welcome!” König voice was tight, a teasing notion that you noted. What was he up to?

The men all bowed slightly as they exchanged pleasantries, then their eyes left König and settling on you.

“This is my Wife,” König introduced you by name, just as your lips curled upwards in a greeting.

“Maus, these are the Kings of our bordering nations. I invited them as a hope to become allies”

They all were tall, one being taller than the rest and gloomy looking. He wore all black robes and kept his face covered much like your husband did in battle. His eyes were fiery as he squinted up at you. Carefully he placed a golden necklace next to your table, a gift you supposed.

His companion next to him was the opposite, instead dressed in a Scottish styled kilt and a smirk upon his face. You assumed this was John of Clan MacTavish, who graciously supplied the feast.

Another stepped forward, an impressive beard upon his face as he nodded to König. Before turning to you. “Simon and Johnny spoke of your beauty, I had to see if the rumors were true. They do not disappoint. You may call me Price.” His lit was elegant and precise.

Yet his eyes were nothing of that matter as he raked you up and down.

Another stepped forward, who offered the King pleasantries and you a simple nod. He offered you his blacksmiths who would make you a new sword fit for a general. His eyes never left your plush lips. Gaz he’d called himself.

Finally the last ascended, settling upon a gift of gems of every cut and size. His smirk never left his face as he bluntly disregarded König, instead going to your side.

“You bring every woman to shame with your beauty, cariña.” His lips found your knuckle, just as König cleared his throat in warning. Alejandro he’d called himself.

“I thank you for the gifts.” You muttered, feeling hot at the stares of all the kings. They departed, eyes still glancing at you occasionally from their designated seats.

A warm hand fell to your thigh, making you snap out of your haze and away from the gloomy stare of the king known as Simon. Instead, your attention settled back to König, whose fingers were digging slightly into the flesh of your leg, dancing dangerously close to your core. It made you shutter out a sigh.

“They’re right you know.” Your King’s voice was low as he continued his onslaught from under the table. His other hand holding onto his fork as if he was unbothered. Almost bored.

“Hmm?” You found yourself drunkenly leaning closer to König, just as his fingertip gently traced over your clothed clit. You jolted, alerting the other King’s attention from afar. Subtly you tried to control your flushed face and crossed your legs, smooshing his palm to get him to stop.

“That you’re the most beautiful woman in the kingdoms.” He leant to you, placing an innocent kiss upon your cheek as his warm breath fanned across your ear.

“I don’t care if they stare or compliment you. Hell, I don’t even care if they all take turns fucking your pretty cunt. Just as long as you know who you truly belong to.”

You shuddered at his words, shifting slightly in your chair as you imagined all of those men taking their turns ravishing you. König’s finger hooked along your chin, pulling you to face him.

“You do know who you belong to, right Maus?” He cooed, looking every bit the conquerer that you knew. You gulped, reaching up to twine your fingers.

“You, Your Grace. It’s always you.”

“Good Girl.” He smirked, dropping his hand to your thigh again. A sudden clatter made you jump, just as several councilmen stood up.

“It’s time for the King and Queen to indulge in the bedding ceremony.”

Your eyes skittered to König, who was back to rubbing his thumb amongst your leg. He had a relaxed smile upon his face, just as he stretched like a satisfied cat against his chair. He pushed it backwards, standing tall as he offered you a gentle hand.

You took it, standing tall as you eyed the foreign kings one last time before applause erupted through the hall as König led you down the halls and to his chambers.

Some of the councilmen followed, obviously to witness your matrimony and union as the both of you would try to produce heirs.

You weren’t particularly nervous, it wasn’t something the councilmen hadn’t seen before. Or at the very least heard. But you felt the pressure to please your husband, for this would be the first time you slept together since taking your vows.

Your King pushed open the door, and gestured you in first. Your steps faulted at the sudden transformation of his chambers. Soft candle light painted the walls a warm glow, and the air smelt faintly of summer cherries and scented wax. Petals of white roses scattered across the floor and on his furs, something that almost made your eyes roll in amusement.

König maneuvered past you with a brush of his hand, his touch lingering for a moment before he stepped towards his vanity.

He reached up, pulling the heavy crown from his wavy hair with a sigh. You felt the burning stares of the councilmen as you shuffled closer to König’s side, happily basking in his warmth as he removed his cloak, only left in his slightly unbuttoned under shirt and trousers.

His arm snakes around your waist, pulling you closer into his side as he preoccupied himself with pouring cherry wine into a cup. He took a large drink, before passing the goblet to you.

Your fingers snaked around the cool metal, eyes falling from your lover to the red liquid instead. You sipped upon the bittersweet wine, happily feeling the burning in your chest as König silently turned to face you.

It was much too silent. It made you itch.

His large palms reached upwards, cupping your cheeks in a cradle of security. His fingertips danced against your scalp, nails raking slightly in a calming gesture that you much appreciated.

You placed the goblet down, not sure if you were really supposed to touch him yet. The one thing you’d hadn’t prepared for was the bedding ceremony. You figured it would be König that made the first move, but he did little but relax you into his touch, distant from his warm furs of his bed.

“Are you waiting for me to start us off?” Your tone was soft as he lifted up on your own crown, discarding the steel material next to his as he went back to clutching your cheeks, this time his thumb brushed across the slight pucker of your lips.

He shook his head, a look of adoration crossing his features again. His stormy eyes were swirling lazily, if you looked closely the little freckles upon his cheeks seemed to glow in the candlelight. “No, I’m waiting for the rest of the council.” He admitted, maneuvering his large hands to your waist, flipping you so your back was turned to him and towards the entrance of his door. You avoided the stares of the council, instead focusing on the cinching sensation at your waist. “Everyone is here. Who else are we waiting for?”

König worked quietly, fingers threading through the ties of your corset. Occasionally he would press a gentle kiss to the back of your neck, causing goosebumps to fly against the contact. You shivered at the intimacy.

“On them.” He whispered against the lobe of your ear, nipping at the flesh. Glancing up, your heart rate picked up at the sight of the five kings from earlier, all eyes upon you and your husband.

König chuckled at your reaction, “if they’re so easy to praise your body with words, I’ll show them how I can praise you with my body and words.” He lowly spoke, so only you could hear. “They’ll speak compliments on their tongues, I’ll taste you with mine.”

Your breath hitched, all of this process was non traditional. Most of the bedding ceremonies in neighboring kingdoms just decided on a quick fuck, never bringing pleasure to the wife. Your husband was never one to follow tradition. He’d make the councilmen squirm as he ravished you with no shame.

The thought made you quiver.

“Shut the door.” Your King ordered, with the click of the hinges, you reveled in the feeling of his touch. His hands had finally tore apart the dreaded corset, his warm hands falling to the curve of your spine, until he dipped to your shoulders, pulling the dress down to your waist.

The air was cold upon your breasts, but the burning stares of the Kings seemed to set you on fire. You maneuvered in a trance, only being guided by your husband, who lowered you down upon the furs of your shared chambers.

He was grinning, obviously enjoying the ongoing attention as he hovered over you. He pulled you into a shuttering kiss, almost humming as you bit upon his lip.

His hands reached low, tugging upon the leftover material of your dress and discarding the white on the edge of the bed. Your eyes found his, he was a storm, the dark pupils nearly engulfing the rolling clouds of grey iris. Your bare legs wrapped around his torso, sinking him down further.

His tongue was hot against your lips, you welcomed him in open arms, loving the taste of the cherry wine leftover from his indulgence.

“So beautiful…” König paused, kissing innocently upon your nose, before shifting backwards and pulling off his shirt.

You bit upon your bottom lip, drinking in his pale skin covered in constellations of freckles. He was built, from all his years of wielding a sword and axe, yet still lean enough to move with great speed and precision.

Enchanting.

He lowered himself upon the furs, obviously enjoying the little hitch in your throat as he blew warm air upon your open and weeping cunt.

Not only were you aroused by the feeling of your King marking you as his, you were squirming at the feeling of eyes taking in your very naked form. Without thinking, your gaze shifted to the dark stare of Simon, who looked on with heavy eyes that were lidded in lust.

Your eyelashes fluttered when you felt the steady pressure of a kiss against the warmth of your inner thighs. König’s sharp canines nipped at the scorching flesh, definitely serving as a reprimand when he observed your wondering eyes.

“Is he holding his cock, Maus? Does he know you’ll only be filled by me tonight?”

You hummed, gaze falling back to your husband, who also looked at you in a hooded stupor, a look that made your insides jelly and your cunt to soak like a broken dam.

He watched you as his biceps entrapped the crease of your knees, prying you open, you faintly heard MacTavish and Gaz curse, for they got a full image of your arousal.

König must of heard, because a ghost of a smirk crossed over his lips before he buried himself against you. The wetness of his tongue against your opening was enough for you to let out an airy noise and drop your head against the silk pillows of his bed. The eyes watching were wiped away from your mind as König’s nose brushed against your aching clit, it was just enough pressure to have you chasing him, hand flying to the soft waves of his tousled auburn hair.

He hummed at your taste, pulling back for air. You could tell he was restraining himself, attempting to stop the vile sayings that would usually slip out of his mouth. You nearly purred when you spotted the slick upon his lips, watching him lick them clean before he dove back for more.

You squirmed as his lips pressed to your clit, sucking upon the bead of nerves in desperation, as if he was starving.

“Oh God…” you moaned softly, attempting to be silent enough for the council not to hear, but your King seemed scoff at that reaction. The cheeky bastard wanted you to scream, to embarrass yourself by squirming and screaming his name.

He was doing a well enough job, a loud moan falling unconsciously from your lips as a thick finger breached your hole, pushing snuggly against your walls.

König cursed at your reaction, still suckling upon your clit in soft slow pressure. Your eyes wandered again, catching on Alejandro, who was obviously glancing at your open breasts, bouncing slightly with each push of your husbands finger.

König looked up, seeing again that your eyes had wandered, with a amused huff he added another finger, this time watching you gasp at the fullness. Yet, it wasn’t just the width that made you cry for air, but the cold metal of his wedding ring pressed against the opening of your sex, the change of temperature sending you over the edge.

He spread his fingers, delightfully stretching your opening, his quick thrusts and licking tongue had you seeing stars. The knot in your stomach twisted and with a rather deep thrust, you whined spilling on his fingers as you rolled your eyes back, reveling in the feeling of a delicious orgasm.

With a sudden burst of need, you maneuvered König up, smiling drunkly when his fingers left your hole with a satisfying squelch, that had Price growling lightly in the corner, making a silent chuckle fall from your lips.

“You like them watching you, don’t you? Like them to see what I do to you, Maus?” König teased, pecking lightly on your lips, you hummed at the taste of yourself.

“What you do to me?” You found yourself becoming bold, likely too bold for a bedding ceremony, but you simply didn’t care as your legs wrapped around his waist, using enough momentum to flip your husband on his back. He looked far to irresistible under your mercy.

And he was enjoying it. You could tell by the darkening of his eyes, his pupils taking a majority of his iris, even with the candles lighting his handsome features.

You leant low, chasing after him in a drunken bliss, he hummed against your lips, hands falling to your hips. He desperately dug into your skin, maneuvering you to roll against his trousers. The catch of the material rubbing slightly upon your sensitive bead.

You pried down his trousers, happily nipping at König’s jaw when he hitched his hips up to help you rid them.

With lusting eyes you lowered your gaze, falling upon the hard and unwavering length of him. He twitched as you settled over him, the shaft of his cock sliding against your folds in a teasing notion. It physically pained you to not be full of your husband, but watching his forehead wrinkle and lips part open in sexual frustration was almost more delicious then being speared on him.

You rolled your hips down even slower, the head of his cock slightly breaching your entrance before you pulled away, you bit back a gasp, attempting to not let your husband know how much he effected you.

He cursed, a low hiss leaving his throat at the sudden movement.

“You wickedly divine woman,” he shunned, obviously taken with your little stunt.

A giggle escaped you, after all you couldn’t help the pleasure you received from teasing your King. Although, he seemed to be the most impatient tonight.

His hand found the plump curve of your ass, he lifted you with one arm, his other hand wrapping around himself. He gave himself a few pumps from his own hand, before lining his throbbing cock in one try.

Oh, how he memorized every curve of your body. How he adored every freckle, every blemish, every mark, and every limb. How he thought of kissing every worry from your mind, and fuck you like you were the only thing he’d ever worship.

Your palms lay flat on his open chest as you slowly settled down upon his tip, nails scratching against his firm muscle as your cunt swallowed him whole. Your head flew backwards, just enough for your breasts to bounce and throat to bob at your arousal.

The Kings all purred at the sight.

“That’s it, Maus.” König airily spoke, his fingertips digging so hard against your hips they would likely leave bruises.

You heaved yourself up again, his cock barely inside you before you let yourself fall back, filling completely. König twitched under you, the violent motion causing him to groan.

He was always one to fall apart when you were on top of him.

You bounced shallowly, reveling in the feeling of him sliding against your very womb with each bob of your hips. It had tears welling in your eyes, especially with the enormous size of him stretching upon your gummy walls.

“You like me hugging your cock? I bet the Kings wish they were here under me.” You whispered the vile words, enjoying the way your husband’s eyes flashed at such revelation.

His arm snaked around your back, allowing him to pull you closer and for him to rise up to meet your every move. You moaned at the jerky movement, allowing your walls to clench even tighter against him. König’s hands roamed your back, pulling you against his chest when he sat up, you ground down against him, appreciating his closeness as his lips nipped at your neck, now definitely leaving marks of purple and red.

You didn’t care. In fact, you clenched tighter at the thought of König taking you as his in front of everyone.

As it turned out, your King was relishing in that aspect too, his chin cradled against your collarbone as he eyed the kings from over your shoulders. A smirk plastered to his lips as he bucked his hips upwards, making a musical moan fall from your throat. Seeing the men so tore up with need for his precious wife only made him more smug.

He’d ruin you for any other man. No one could please you as he did.

He drew back, his mouth shining and bruised from your kisses. König’s lips pressed against your ear, “I bet they do wish for you. How could they not with your pretty little mouth crying on my cock?”

König bit the lobe of your ear, before squeezing his hands onto the backs of your thighs. He used his brute strength he only reserved for the battlefield to raise himself up, his cock still speared inside you.

You’ve seen him break backs over his knees, crack necks in his bare hands, spill guts with his sword. Now he used his strength to pull you into him, your legs wrapping helplessly around his waist. He used his strength to drop you onto your back, your head falling back onto the soft pillows once more.

You gasped hard, when he began to take control, pistoning into you at such a rapid speed you found yourself unable to control the cries of pleasure that left your throat.

He was sloppy, thrusting into you like a boy instead of a King. His large palms squeezed at your breasts as he ravished, your clenching cunt almost spent at the pace he was going.

His fingers rolled against a nipple, before he pinched upon the bud, making you cry out in painful delight. He was enjoying this, he was enjoying plowing into you and spreading your legs out wider to go deeper.

“I can’t…” you whimpered when he dug deep, his very tip hitting harshly against your womb.

“You will.” He growled, teeth clenching down as sweat began to slick onto his forehead. “Come on my love, just cum one more time for me.” He pleaded, kissing your lips as he rutted into you.

Those were the only words you needed, before you did as told. With a cry of pleasure, you clenched at the near euphoric sensation, your arms finding closure around his torso and legs wrapping around his waist as you shook.

“Fuckin’ Hell…” you heard one of the Kings loudly grunt, although you paid little attention as your eyes rolled backwards as König sloppily thrusted a few more times before he to, let out a grunt. He silenced himself by clenching his teeth down on your shoulder.

The warm feeling of his seed painted against your walls, a feeling of such deep devotion it had you thinking you could stay like this forever. Forever pierced on your Husband’s cock as he caressed your face sheening in sweat.

With a sigh, you unwrapped your legs, knowing you wouldn’t be able to stay like this forever. People were watching after all.

König dropped away from you, not without burying his seed one more time into your aching cunt. Whispers broke out into your shared chambers, the councilmen seemingly pleased that there was a guarantee for heirs. They left, satisfied with your activities.

Yet, the eyes of the neighboring Kings were still glued to your body. König rolled over, sitting up into the furs and looking the Kings dead in the eyes. He looked playful, yet determination glittered in the storms of his iris.

With a cool finger, he traced your hipbone, before dipping lower. You gasped when his fingers dug near the entrance of your used cunt. He dug them into his cum, scooping out just enough for all of the observers to see.

“You’ve served your purpose. See that my seed is taken by my wife. She’s mine.”

Your face reddened at his vulgar point, just as he brought his messy fingers to your mouth.

“Open.” He ordered, before having you suck his fingertips in obedience. He was bittersweet on your tongue, but ever so exquisite.

“You may do what you like with her if she allows it. But I want you all to know, her cunt only belongs to me.”

“My wife. My Queen.”

Tags: @soapyghost @downbadformaskedmen @brainlessgf @uriahs-sketchings @mykneeshurt @lenafisher @idkthefuckimdoingwithmylife @keiva1000 @imtherain @purple-crying-out

#good grief I need a cold shower #cod #call of duty modern warfare #modern warfare #könig #konig #könig x reader #konig x reader #King AU

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ceruleancattail · 12 days

Text

Summoning your Familars: Octavinelle Edition

Mystic AU

Mizuchi- water dragon/ serpent

Koromodako- octopus-like yōkai

There’s a certain tension crackling in the air. The brief moment of silence from both sky and sea, before they both whip up into a frenzy. A storm, fast approaching. Out of the corner of your eyes, you could see a serpent like shadow slipping in and out of sight, turquoise fins peeking out like a shark’s.

A warning of what… no. Who was to come. Right after you finish that thought, a weight crashed into your back. You’re tackled by a pair of lanky arms, scales glistening like mirages in the light. They were cold, chilling whatever they touched to the very bone. Those arms wrap around you, squeezing tight. Before you’re lifted right off your feet, cradled in the same pair of arms.

You come face to face with a pair of mismatched eyes, the effect of which was disorienting. A wide, toothy grin beamed at you, canines sharp as daggers.

“What’s up, shrimpy?

Ah, right. I’m supposed to call ya Master now, huh? You’re a little too weak though, to be called master… but don’t ya’ worry your head off now!

I’m right here now, aren’t I? Floyd Leech, the Mizuchi~ So if any one gives ya trouble, just holler my name, and I’ll come running just for ya.

Aw, did that make your lil’ shrimpy heart go pitter patter? You’re a cute one, Master.”

A chill races its way up your spine. This cold settles in your very veins, slowly creeping through your body. Freezing whatever it touches in a delicate layer of frost and ice. A laugh echoes through the air, tinged with cruel amusement, a mocking sort of sadism leaking through every echo. Reminiscent of the deadly temperature at the bottom of the ocean, both cold and cruel.

You feel eyes staring at you from every side, the gaze of a predator boring into your skin. Marking you as prey, as something to chase down and sink both tooth and fang in. In the midst of all these emotions, a chill presses against your shoulder. A hand, claws grazing ever so slightly against your skin.

You turn, only to come face to face with an eerily mismatched set of eyes. A placid smile dancing across his lip, quirking upwards slightly at your trembling arms. A hand brushes along the curve of your chin, gently tilting it upwards.

“You’re trembling like a leaf, my dear master. What’s the matter? The cold’s too much for you?

Oh dear, I always forget how… delicate you humans were. Well, feel free to huddle a little closer, don’t be shy. I am your familiar, after all.

Jade Leech, Mizuchi. At your service now and forever, my master.”

Your shadow seems to have a life of its own. Swaying from side to side, waxing and waning like the waves of the sea. It bubbles right before your feet, pitch-black tendrils stretching out, snaking around anything they could touch.

A breeze whips around your torso, carrying with it a familiar smell. The scent of a lonely morning by the seaside, a fresh start to a new day. Gently, your hand’s coaxed upwards by the breeze, only to be held by a gloved hand. A pair of mist grey eyes meet yours, amusement dancing within his gaze. Locks of silver curl down the side of his face, framing it perfectly. Much like a painted masterpiece, hung up for display for all to see. A gentle kiss was pressed into your knuckles. A light, fleeting touch, much like the kiss of the ocean, lapping against the shore.

He doesn’t let go of your hand afterwards. Slyly, his fingers slip downwards, sliding into yours. Intertwining your hand within his, a gentle pulse beating in time with yours.

“The benevolent, most wonderful Koromodako, Azul Ashengrotto humbly at your service.

Now, what poor, unfortunate soul is in need of my services? Oh, I didn’t mean you, Master… although you do seem a little more fatigued of late. Perhaps a rest is in order? I’ll take very good care of you… for an appropriate price, of course.

I jest. Rest easy, my Master.

I’m here now.”

#twisted wonderland #twst #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #Floyd leech #Floyd #Floyd leech x reader #Floyd x reader #Jade leech #Jade leech x reader #Jade #Jade x reader #Azul ashengrotto #Azul #Azul x reader #Azul ashengrotto x reader #lucky charm 🔷#mystic au

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greenandsorrow · 2 months

Text

the fox (1): In the woods somewhere.

Alastor x fem!reader (sfw, platonic)

A soul that doesn't belong in Hell finds sanctuary in the Hazbin Hotel.

"To you I am nothing more than a fox like a hundred thousand other foxes. But if you tame me, then we shall need each other. To me, you will be unique in all the world."

~Le petit prince, Antoine de Saint-Exupery

She couldn't remember anything but a blinding light, her head throbbing with vengeance and then... she was falling.

The girl had winced, she had been confused.

Wings open but she couldn't fly. Like Icarus she fell before she was able to witness the full beauty of being alive.

The recently returned overlord had been intrigued by her unusual presence and that's probably why he hadn't killed her at once. Her poor soul felt his demonic presence almost immediately...

Why of course.

The blinding light had belonged to the car that had hit her... She was still panting from the impact, but there was no pain now. She looked behind her, a fluffy, snow-white tail moving with her.

She heard the antique voice of the radio demon. Her newly acquainted, pointy ears turned to the direction of the sound.

"Welcome to Hell little one!"

She felt like he was trying to control and dominate her mind, with a frequency he could only muster. A sudden despair seized her.

"Hell?!"

The demon got closer, his expression becoming more predatory and less curious. Her heart started beating out of her chest, but he didn't make any moves to hurt her. His eyes were shining a bright red, dead light and he was uncannily tall.

"Let me ask you again. How did you get here?"

He could see that this girl wasn't the average sinner. She looked more like a winner, not that he had ever seen one up close, but that must be how they look like.

"I... I fell..."

His smile widened, but it was not a kind one.

"You're a deer?"

"You dared to call me that...?"

A sudden instinct overtook her when she realized the possible danger and she bared her canine teeth at him.

"You do have guts for a small creature.."

His tone was mocking her, belittling her, taunting her for her naivety. She had no idea who she was talking to, neither did she seem to know where she had landed. Her deep-set eyes were trained on him, the slight tilt of her head an indication of her confusion.

Alastor smiled, his eyes shining even brighter. He seemed to enjoy this little interaction. However, the hypnotizing effect of his voice wasn't working on her. She was scared, obviously, but that wasn't enough. This foxlike soul just couldn't be a sinner. Did that make her have any advantage over him? Surely not.

At first, he was surprised that someone like her would end up in Hell, but that didn't stop him from insisting talking to her, trying to decide if her soul would be a tasty meal.

The radio demon likes a challenge. He likes messing with others.

The girl was terrified. She felt defensive and her feisty attitude, coming from innocence rather than naivety, was amusing to him.

"I'll cut you in pieces deer."

Alastor moved even closer, smiling in a twisted way.

"That's really cute coming from a weak fox such as yourself."

He was getting frustrated. He wasn't having the effect he had hoped on her... and that light she was emitting... Despite it didn't do much damage, he did feel a mild burning sensation as he kept advancing closer and closer to his prey...

Foxes are predators. Deer prey. He had learnt that the hard way, but it looked like the tables had been turned now.

Her light was growing stronger and her teeth were still bared. He had enough teeth marks like those on his body from them... from the canines.

There was a sadistic joy in his voice when he spoke next.

"Awww, you're trying to defend yourself... How funny, maybe I should eat you for lunch instead of breakfast!"

"Where am I?"

The radio demon seemed annoyed.

"In a hotel, in Hell."

Her silence was deafening. She kept staring at him with a flabbergasted look on her face.

"This is a place where sinners are rehabilitated, apparently some want to be redeemed and accepted to Heaven. It is under control of Charlotte Morningstar, princess of Hell. You'll probably see her shortly anyway."

His gentleman like demeanor was a stark contrast to the violence he had seemed to be inspiring just moments ago.

"I see... Maybe if I stay here, I'll have easier access back home..."

But where was her home now? This had to be a nightmare... everything felt so surreal, but a knowledge deep within her was slowly coming to the surface. She hadn't made it when the car had hit her.

The demon's expression behind his eyes shifted to a more cold one. He was a breath away now, so that he could speak directly into her perked up, fox ears.

"You won't ever get back, that's not how it works. A home you say?"

He snorted.

"Your stay here is for eternity."

"I... I am not like you. You're the.. the evil one. I did nothing to deserve Hell!"

Her words had a childish desperation in them. Alastor was curious again.

"You claim that you're not a sinner?"

"I... I do, actually. I was... a... I'm a human... or at least I was one until a few... days ago??"

Winners never remember the details of their death. Everything fades into a blissful oblivion for them. Sinners, on the other hand, are forever left with a vivid memory of their last moments on Earth, no matter how painful they had been. This fox girl didn't seem to fit either category. The oblivious part maybe, but not with any blissfulness evident.

She was feeling lost. There was no point in trying anything. She was dead and she was in Hell. That's what a life kindness had earned her?!

The radio effect in Alastor's voice died down as he became more genuine towards her.

"A person doesn't end up here without being a sinner, so how is it that you're here? You certainly died my dear, but didn't you live a sinful life? No committing atrocious deeds? Such cruel judgment for you to be put here, even if you're half as pure as you appear to be!"

"Have you been here for a long time?"

"Indeed I have little fox! Long enough to have built quite a reputation for myself I would say! Hahaha! But don't you worry your pretty head over it..."

Her big eyes were studying him, but she still felt scared and betrayed from above.

"I'm Hell's most popular radio host, I've been around for years. Don't tell me you prefer the voice of modern podcasts..."

"I used to like vintage stuff when I was... alive."

His chest swelled up with pride and he adjusted his bow tie. Alastor seemed satisfied with her answer.

"Really now? That's a new one, I supposed people didn't like older things in this century. I was a a famous radio host as I mentioned before, not only in death but also during my life!"

For a moment, the overlord was genuinely interested in their conversation. She was a mystery to unravel, maybe even preserve, but he shouldn't even think about it... it would be too nice of him.

"A radio host? You come from... the thirties or something?"

"All the way back to the roaring twenties, my dear little one! I was broadcasting from Louisiana to all of New Orleans."

This girl was so easy to impress and her reactions were feeding his ego.

"That's where I'm originally from! How... how did you die?"

She couldn't have known that's not a thing people go around asking each other in Hell. She was just eager to form any kind of connection, so that she could feel less vulnerable and alone. Still, if Alastor's smile could fade, it would have when he heard her question.

"Not a pleasant tale, I can assure you... and it's not like we just met dear!"

"S- sorry in that case, it's just that... we both lived in New Orleans and we're both forest... spirits?"

Alastor tried to be mad at her, but he found himself unable of doing so. He was amused by her, getting apologetic so fast. The demon begun gently taking the conservation away from the sensitive subject.

"Well, yes. We are, but how does it matter if I'm a powerful demon that has deer characteristics... and you're a lil fox with some angelic traits?"

"You're self assured."

"Haha! No. I'm self aware."

A pause. Charlie appeared and Alastor slipped away.

"I died in the woods."

She had sneaked into his radio station, quick and quite like a true feline. Alastor had been unfazed. Her unexpected visit hadn't taken him by surprise not one bit.

"That's unfortunate."

His gaze was softer now, he was determined to find out what other conditions of her death eerily overlapped with his.

"Take a seat young one. Sooo, what happened to you out there?"

She had been spending all her time in her room, trying to bring back her memories. The faces were still blurred, her own name unknown. She was just a white fox with a particularly fluffy tail. That's what they had been calling her in the hotel, Fox, as if it were an actual name.

"I was... I was trying to save a fox cub that had strayed to the road..."

"You died trying to do something good?"

Alastor was puzzled. The more information he gathered about her, the more obvious it became that she had absolutely no place in Hell.

A sniffle escaped her and she hid her face, ears lowered. He felt a pang of sympathy that he immediately drowned.

"Such a noble way to go..."

The radio demon had gone for a sarcastic tone, but he had failed. His initial urge to corrupt that innocent, fragile creature had left him.

"I keep seeing lights... they could be the headlights of a car, a truck maybe..."

At that point, he felt a bit sorry for her, yet he wasn't going to cave in and show his real feelings.

"Let me put together what you have told me so far. A sudden light hit you while you were trying to save a fox cub and everything went dark after that?"

"Y- yeah..."

Her voice was small, her gaze averted and fingers fumbling with her tail. He felt a primal urge to protect her purity from all the cruelty that existed in the world.

But it was too late. Some driver had taken her life and Alastor hadn't exactly been an altruist while alive. But maybe, had she been born earlier and not in the nineties, he could have been the one behind the wheel. He could have been the one who saw her trying to rescue the baby fox. He would have stopped. She would have survived.

But who could guarantee that he wouldn't have turned her into another pretty corpse afterwards? It would have been so convenient, an empty road in the woods, already close to his hiding spot...

Would have, could have, should have...

He stared directly into her moist eyes.

"Do you remember anything that happened after that?"

"The fox cub died... I remember standing with it by our bodies."

That hit home. He had to watch his body getting mangled by the canines, even after his soul had been dragged out of it. He had deserved the karma. She hadn't.

"The fox died?"

It was enraging.

It was night. First, she heard the footsteps, then the sound of hooves- strong and unmistakable. Soon the sound of static and distorted voices filled the air.

A darkness set upon her room.

"Alastor?"

A growl.

"You don't act like you want to be redeemed you know."

A low grumbling.

She was scared shitless, but she was already in Hell and if he tried to get too close, he'd get burned by her light. His dominating aura became less pronounced as she sat there calmly.

"You want to join me on my midnight snacking?"

This new activity intrigued the radio demon enough for his demonic form to give way to his usual self.

"Is that a way of saying you're sneaking food in bed?"

She smiled and chuckled, the sound carefree and unguarded, the sound of a child sharing something she likes with a friend.

Alastor sat at the edge of the bed.

"Do you always terrorise the residents at night?"

He tried to laugh but all that came out was a sigh. The girl had noticed that his permanent smile rarely reached his eyes.

"You look tired."

Of course she could see in the dark.

He shrugged.

"I have been able to recall more details about my life..."

He tilted his head and got comfy on the bed, kicking his hooves and stealing her snacks as she started with her story.

"I was... camping with some friends from college... I had been hiking when I saw the cub in the middle of the street. Oh lord, I was so young... I-"

Her eyes welled up with tears and her voice got stuck in her throat. Surprisingly enough, Alastor was a good listener.

"You were indeed very young, with so much to live for. How could you just go save the fox at the cost of your life? You're much more selfless than I thought."

The girl broke down in sobs. She hugged herself, the little noises she was making were like those of a wounded fox whimpering. He now knew why she had that particular form. Despite that, things just kept not adding up. A young, selfless and innocent soul should've been in Heaven, made into an angel with fancy wings and all.

The radio demon wanted to comfort her. He patted her on the back.

"There, there, there's no need for crying, dearest! Smile! Scare your troubles away! I'm sure Heaven can't just abandon a nice, young lady such as yourself in this dreadful place! "

Her doubts about Alastor slowly faded away and she crushed into him, wetting his shirt with her tears as she did. Even though it had been the last thing he had expected, it wasn't unpleasant. The demon didn't push her away, his arms loosely wrapped around her as she curled up in his lap, crying rivers. She was burning him, but he didn't care to even mention that fact.

"You're safe little one."

"T- thank you scary deer..."

He started to lightly stroke her hair, while she continued whimpering and mourning, her soft body fitting perfectly against him.

"See how much of a different demon I can be from the average? Instead of looking for a fight, or trying to make a deal, I'm offering my help for free."

"You're a good friend..."

He knew he better not get attached, but he felt pleased that he had earned her trust without an ulterior motif. It was strangely rewarding.

"I'll miss you... I have this feeling that I'll be gone soon."

"You're happy about this?"

She nodded.

"But if you're going, then I guess... you could do me a favor?"

His smile finally reached his eyes.

"Don't forget our little moments, okay?"

"Okay... But you owe me a story about yourself in return..."

A kiss on her forehead had been his answer, as he quietly tacked her to bed and left.

She never appeared for breakfast the following day. Nor at his radio station.

He knew what that meant. She was were she belonged now. She had passed through the portal that he never would.

Silence felt more empty now, a void where she used to be. Alastor walked to the bed she had slept in and lied down. He closed his eyes and tried to clear his head, but she continuously popped up in his thoughts. Eventually, he sighed. He was at peace knowing things ended well for her. The demon chuckled to himself.

Days passed, but he always seemed to be looking for something. It seemed like he was hoping to spot her somewhere. He knew that one way or the other, he would need to accept that he wasn't going to see her ever again... Unless he somehow ended up in Heaven, but he had never thought about that before anyway...

Was it a valid reason to want to get redeemed so that he could visit her up there?

All parts -> here!

💚Please do not repost or directly copy my work.

💚This fic's title is a song by Hozier. I didn't proof read this, so forgive me for any spelling or grammar errors!

💚It had been a while since I wrote something that didn't contain smut/sexual content. I love my explicit fics, but I was on my period and in need of something with lots of emotion.

💚dividers-> @saradika-graphics & @cafekitsune

💚my masterlist

your tips keep me motivated to write! THANK YOU for supporting my blog!!! 💚 CLICK HERE(PayPal link)

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colourstreakgryffin · 2 months

Note

Uh- could you possibly do wome romantic HCs for a Vox x Transmasc Cannibal/hellhound hybrid? Maybe some stuff having to do with the readers lil' doggy mannerisms and behavior?? Please and thank you!!

Hmmm. Okaaaay. Cannibal is like Rosie’s species, right? And I mean sure! I wouldn’t mind this at all! Thank you for the nice idea! Bisexual Vox go brrrr~! This is actually my first ever Vox and I am sorry if I ruined his character

Vox- Vampire Canine

Vox has never met a demon like you before. You’re a hybrid of a ghostly cannibal and a Hellhound, if not a abomination of a demon species but you’re fascinating and one of a kind so of course, when Vox sees you, he is determined to make you apart of his staff

You have the good senses of a Hellhound and yet the ferocity of a Ghostly Cannibal. You’re a perfect little helper, somebody he could use as a personal assistant and Vox basically bribes you to work for him when he spots you within the streets of Pentagram City. He’ll pay you handsomely, you just have to help with his Television Show

Overtime, Vox falls for you and he ends up quitting the whole on-and-off relationship he has with Valentino to be exclusive to his little Hellhound. Of course, Val isn’t happy about that but don’t worry, Vox won’t let his ‘ex’ harm you

Vox finds you simply adorable. You let out all kinds of dog-like noises; pants, ruffs, whines, growling, howling. Anything of the such. He links you to dog noises and when he hears a dog noise, he suspects it’s you and he, on purpose, scratches your weak spots to hear you bark or pant out. It’s precious

Vox sits you in his lap and scratches down your back whilst working on his computer. The best way to get through an annoyingly long night of maintaining the Pride Ring’s entirety of electronics is having his adorable dog BF sleeping right before him. He feels a boost of energy everytime his claws brush through your fur

Vox may or may not throw his Hellhound-hybrid boyfriend at his mortal enemy, Alastor, as a last measure to chase the Radio Demon away. Knowing very well that Alastor despises dogs but this also pisses Vox off since Alastor is rude to you

Vox could be described as a man with zero acceptance for specific things he doesn’t like but he is quite accepting of you and facts about you so when you come out and tell him you were assigned a female at birth but now identify as a male, he doesn’t even flinch. He supports it and he pets your head, telling you he doesn’t really care and it doesn’t impact how he feels for you

Basically. Vox is a supporter of you being a transmasc demon and he won’t tolerate anybody throwing shit at you for being more comfortable in a different body than the one you had upon being born

Bisexual Vox go brrrrr!

However, Vox isn’t a big fan of your cannibalistic urges. Since your other parent is a Ghostly Cannibal, you are cannibalistic yourself. He always proclaims ‘as long as you don’t eat him or his workers’, he’s okay with whatever you do. He just won’t watch it himself since he isn’t really into it… he is supportive but not going to be included

Vox wants you to always keep yourself modern and not be like your older-fashioned Ghostly Cannibal parent, so he teaches you to get accustom to phones, laptops, technology, WIFI, all of that. Because he doesn’t want his boyfriend to be a old-timey fool like his rival is

Vox is doing his best to be patient with all the fur you’re leaving around your shard bedroom but he is losing it… he may have to comb you and he starts to throughly brush your fur before you two go to bed so he doesn’t wake up covered in dog fur

Vox is a naturally bragger and his ego is quite prominent so of course, he talks about you on both his own Television talk show but to the other Overlords, he wants them to know HE has a rare demon hybrid as his boyfriend, and that HE is so unbelievably desirable to somebody as rare as you

Vox actually trusts you to always have your sensitive yet refined ear out to hear him out. He trusts you to be insecure and himself with, he trusts you to keep your snout shut and never tell anybody about who he really is behind the television screen. That’s how much he likes you

Vox will, just like Alastor, tug on your tail to get a response out of you. He’ll just pass by and immediately grab onto and pull your soft long fluffy hellhound-like tail so you’ll either yelp out or moan. Nevertheless, he loves how mad you get

Vox has bought you a dog collar, as both a naughty naughty gesture for the pantsdown dance in bed, and as a general claiming gesture. If you wear a collar with his name on it, everybody knows who is your owner

Vox has his best friend and his boyfriend in one demon. Trust me, he LOVES your Hellhound side and whilst he is uncomfortable with your Ghostly Cannibal side, he loves you as a whole, no matter what

“Honey, my good little boy. Where are you? Ooh~ I know. I got some sirloin meat for you, babycakes— heh. There you are”

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neverchecking · 11 months

Note

Heya! I love your writing style! I see this is a new blog so I hope youre having fun writing all of this!! <3 I wanted to request something with Twilight if that's okay? Id love to see a more sub side to him, everyone writes him as being some sort of a don, but I bet he has his weaknesses too ;) but tbh I'd love anything with twilight ❤ have a nice day and take care of yourself!!

Hi, thank you! I am fairly new to the tumblr scene, so I'm hoping I'm doing okay. I am also having tons of fun so far!

You absolutely can request something with Twilight! Especially sub! Twilight! Take care of yourself as well, darling~

If I become the blog known for turning the Links into subs I will cry /pos

they're just so submissive and breedable yk?

Also since there was no specification on Yandere type, I went, once again, with a softer Yandere! (I know I said mostly but Yandere has me in a hyper fixation chokehold so thats what I will write for now).

Smut so MDNI!

Smut CW: Mentions of slight breeding beforehand, Twilight likes being called a Good Boy, so praise, cunnilingus (I tried keeping it pretty GN, but I did write it with a AFAB! Reader.

Good Doggy

Since his journey to the Twilight Realms and this current one, Twilight had learned several things.

One: Turning into a beast of the Twilight had consequences. Ones he never would've thought about previously.

His appetite had grown exponentially, his senses were beyond heightened (He could hear your every breath, smell you from miles away, see you in the densest of fogs, practically taste you when you leaned in close enough he could feel the heat of your body pressing against his), and he was territorial. Beyond so. And it showed.

It showed in the low growl in his throat when Warriors dared to walk too close to you. In the warning flash of teeth he would show Legend when one of his quips teetered the edge between funny and hurtful. In the absolute glower he would shoot Time when he DARED to pair you with anyone other than him on patrol. You were his, his to care for and to protect. To worship and to glorify. His, his, his, his alone. He didn't share.

Well, not with just anybody. His cub had somehow wiggled his way in, playing around with you in Twilight's sight and that made something else show. Something entirely new. Something that had him yearning to give you your own cub to play and care for. While, yes, Wild was more than capable of taking care of himself, something in Twilight's hindbrain kicked into high gear whenever he saw you mothering over the Champion like it was something you had always done.

It was positively tantalizing.

It had him yearning just to pump you full of seed until you had no choice but to carry. Carry his brood, something that tied you two together for life. And that was really all he needed, wasn't it? To be tied to someone, especially such a divine being like yourself, for life. Tied so you couldn't leave him behind. He couldn't handle being left again. Not by you. He needed you to eat and breath, to exist in a way that kept him going. You were his driving force. His Mate.

Which brought him to his next point.

Two: Turning into a beast of the Twilight had consequences. Ones he never would've bet on himself having.

Because he ached to please you in every way possible. The canine in him just wanted you to be pleased with him, to praise him, to call him your 'Good boy' as you instructed him on what to do. On how to make you shiver against him, on how to make your thighs clench around him, on how to make you think of him and him alone.

Goddess, just the thought of being the sole reason for your relief had an invisible tail thwapping about wildly. Had him drooling. What good could he be if he couldn't please you after all? No good. And that wasn't what he wanted. He wanted to be your good boy.

No other title mattered.

And finally third.

Three: Turning into a beast of the Twilight had consequences. Ones that were so delicious golden and perfect that he had to thank the light spirits in some way, shape or form for them.

He had stamina now. Nothing could stop him. Not your nails, clawing into his scalp as you gently pulled at his hair. Not your thighs, clutching around his head in a suffocating hold so that he couldn't pull away (Not that he would ever dream of doing so). Not the sounds of your whimpers and whines as you pleaded with him. Pleaded with him to stop, then continue, then faster, more, hold on- Every instruction that spilled from your lips was followed to the absolute T.

Your eyes, dazed and lidded, looked down at him, swimming with lust as you gently combed his hair after ordering him to stop. Take a breath, you said. He didn't want to breath. Not when he could have this alternative. Not when he could die a happy man, being absolutely smothered by you.

"You look so good down there, Twi. Being such a good boy for me."

Your smirk told him that you knew exactly what those words did to him. Not that it wasn't hard to see. He audibly whined, like a canine being denied a treat, craning his neck for just one more lick. Just one more swipe of his tongue to catch just one more hit of you in your purest essence. Just one more please- He'd do absolutely anything for you! You just had to ask! All he asked for in turn was one MORE TASTE-

"I'm not taking it from you, my sweet boy. Just take a breather. Can't have you passing out on me."

Why not? Why not when that was what he wanted? Who needed a breather? Not him. And while you may not have been taking it from him now, you would eventually and he could not squander this moment. That would make him a damned fool.

"There you go, that's my good boy. You're doing so well for me."

He was doing well. You were praising him, bestowing him with your grace for something he was doing!

The second your grip loosened, he was right back to lapping at you, watching you carefully for any sign that you wanted him to change or stop completely. Anything, anything at all. He would follow. You ask him to sit? He is down on the ground. Shake? He'd do it. Speak? He is praising your gospel.

"Good doggy."

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mamayan · 7 months

Note

YAN MY BABYGURL CONGRATA ON YOUR MILESTONE!

I am here to give my try for your Russian Roulette. Can be nsfw or not (your decision and how you feel like 💋)

9, 37, 46, 61 either with Kyojuro or Kokushibo ❤️

BANG! … no bullet was shot—

Kokushibo

“Let me hold you?” || Sleep || Tangled hair || Soulmates

tw: Suggestive • NSFW • Suggestive Angst

wc: 618

“Please…”

He should kill you.

“Let me hold you?”

If he allows this to continue any longer, you’ll surely infect his mind further. You, an enchantment no doubt, have haunted him for months with that sweet scent and earnest gaze. A weak creature not meant for the night like he, yet you so kindly embrace him despite his monstrous appearance and wicked deeds. His desire for strength and achievement shudders beneath your fingers.

He should kill you.

You who sleepily wraps your arms around his neck as he lowers himself over you, brushing his lips against your own while you invite him into your bed again. You should know better, he has warned you many times in the past. You aren’t very obedient, but he hardly cares when you part your lips for him to taste you. His kiss is sensual, slower and gentler than usual. He’s savoring you, the feeling of you close to him while his blackened soul writhes against the clean half you possess. Your soft figure beneath him is the most right he’s ever felt in over four hundred years and he knows you are his own personal punishment for his sins against humanity. You don’t listen when he tells you to run, but you open up so willingly when he slots himself between your thighs. His hands greedily tracing your figure, squeezing you almost painfully as he assures himself once more you are real and not a figment of his lonely mind.

He should kill you.

Except his mind goes blank as he sheathes himself inside you, your body warm and welcoming for him as you mewl in pleasure. Your tight entrance is wet enough he hardly needs any force to sink to your deepest parts. He loses the fight immediately, succumbing to your eyes devoid of anything but complete adoration and acceptance. He loses the battle when you moan his name and beg for more, “Michikatsu, harder please—.” A great warrior crumbling before a mere human, seduced and destroyed.

His hand wraps around your delicate throat, other arm braced to lean himself over you so he can watch. All six eyes he detests normally but feels grateful for now trained on you, watching every little reaction as he softly holds you down while his hips work to throw you into ecstasy. The way your eyes water but never leave his face, lips parted and gasping for breath his cock keeps stealing from you, he watches in fascination and anxiety.

He could kill you.

You wouldn’t even resent him. So much unfathomable understanding in your eyes, it’s a wonder you still hold the compassion that you do. The trust you place in him, a demon no one could love, yet you do the unthinkable effortlessly.

“Michikatsu, I’m—,” he can feel your body tightening, trembling below.

“I know.” He loses himself again, in your pleasure and softness, in your arms which hold him gently. His hair spills, tickling your neck as he lets his canines lightly graze over the sensitive skin where your pulse races. “Go ahead, break for me.” His guttural tone is all you need to fall apart, clinging to him tightly as he finds release inside of you too. Your name on his lips as he loses again.

He should kill you...

Your hands tangle in his hair, sweaty skin making you glow in the low candle light. “I love you,” it’s nearly inaudible but he hears it. Your smile is more radiant than the sun he can not bask in.

He should kill you… before you make him forsake his own immortality to die with you.

You’re asleep before he whispers the words aloud.

“I love you too…”

post dividers/@cafekitsune

#500 Event #kokushibo #kny kokushibo #Kokushibo smut #demon slayer #kny smut #kimetsu no yaiba #kny michikatsu #kokushibo x reader #short drabble

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mist-see · 1 year

Text

You don’t deserve mercy.

quaritch vs na’vi reader

After months of grieving your loved one, Neteyam, you hear gun shots. You found out spider saved his father. You make sure that he’s dead this time.

I love violence.

I have no beef for spider, he’s a good kid.

⚠️Warning ⚠️

Graphic descriptions of death, cursing, blood, the anger of losing someone, murder, and normalize women being pissed angry, violent angry. I felt like I could’ve gotten way more graphic, but for the sake of not wanting to get in trouble, I mellowed it down.

“I will bite your ear off and feed it to my ikran!” You bared your teeth, your four canines sharp and long, blood covering them as one of the ski people busted your lip before hand. Quaritch just laughs in your face.

Your anger amused him. Mostly because he knew he was going to die. It was a laughter of disappointment and rage, he was going to die, and he only got to kill one of the sullies. How pathetic of himself.

“Don’t bother having conversation with me, either kill me or get killed, we got this island surrounded with avat-ar!” Your red eyes widen, 3 sharp nails digging their way into the skin of the old man’s neck, breaking the skin.

You were strong, stronger than the na’vis they fought. You were a freak of nature, a hybrid as your mother was from the clan of ashes, father from the Omatikaya clan.

He’s read about your kind, your mother, a leader before she married outside her clan. Your anatomy was different from the rest, made you tough, but not invincible .

At this moment you were thousands of feet in the air, above the deep water it took months for you to learn. Your ikran was stable and your arrow deep inside the gut of the person who killed your Neteyam. “Do not hesitate Y/N, kill him before he kills someone else!”

Jake watches from afar, feet planted on his skimwing and emptied gun gripped in his hand.

You’re growled at this, causing another choked laugh to leave the avatars mouth. “Don’t bother.”

“Uh!-“ you gasped. The sound was brutal, the noise of the knife digging into your gut. You breath hitched, suddenly being able to taste, and smell your blood so clearly.

Tears prickling your eyes as you felt the army knife shift in your stomach. He didn’t take the arrow to his stomach lightly you suppose. Your ikran screeched, the connection between the two of you strong. She starts losing her balance, the knife you took causing her to feel it. The knife only went deeper from the movement.

How could you be so stupid? So naive to think it would be an easy job. “Weak. Just like that poor son of a bitch that came from that tree monkey down in the ocean.”

“Y/N!” Jake screamed through your ear piece as he watched your legs buckle, but never completely giving.

You would never kneel below this colonizing creature.

Quaritch heard it Crystal clear, having stole Neytiris ear piece awile ago.

“I will not die here. I will not die by the hands… of some foul demon who wants to live like us. To breathe- our air. I won’t!” You clinched your teeth, knees weak as you gripped the knife that pierced your large intestines. With a scowl, the man watched as you slowly remove the knife.

It wasn’t the size as a normal knife, no, it was bigger, meant to fit the hands of an army veteran that changed species.

Disgust on his face, he hissed, but your hand was still tight on his neck, never wavering, only getting tighter. His neck bled from the holes you made.

You stared deep into his eyes, his face close to yours, he could feel your chess grumble with a growl as the knife left you. “You can’t be that stupid kid. You’ll bleed out before you could do anything.”

“Don’t underestimate a true na’vi, demon. I am not weak. And neither was Neteyam.” Before he could even struggle to get out of your grip, you slammed him against your Ikrans back, this made her screech in complaint, her wings loosing control from the connection of your queue. she could feel everything you felt.

“If I die, Eywa will reunite me with my Neteyam. You, will go to hell, burning like the demon you are.” You hissed in his face, large blue foot pushing the arrow into his stomach more, causing him to scream.

“I will cause you to suffer.” You growled through your teeth, bloodied hands tying your rope from the end of the arrow, then forcing him to turn to his side. You grunted in pain. “Fat fuck, heavy- like the chains that will be dragging your down to your fate.” You clinched your teeth, ignoring the screams from the weak man below you as you pushed the arrow through him, until it exited his back.

“AHH- you- bITCH!” He yelled in a foreign language, assuming it was English, you scoffed. “You see us as the villain. I will kill you as such. Right in front of your traitor son who left you alive!” This caused his smaller eyes to widen, but you already tied the rope at the start of the arrow.

“Y/N- where are you- are you okay?!” Lo’ak spoke through his ear piece, out of breath. “Lo’ak! Where are you?!” Jake was quick to respond back, gun now in the ocean as he road his skimwing as fast as he could to the shore. “With mom-“

“Take her to Ronal and quickly get to y/n, she’s been stabbed!” “What?!” They yelled in your ear, but you were only focused on one thing. Revenge.

“She-ri!” You gripped onto your ikran, sending her to go above the beach, the same one you and the sullies arrived on.

You will drop him, the rope held tight in your ikrans jaws. You will rip him to shreds, the arrow more than strong enough to hold his weight, to almost rip him in half, before ending his demise.

“Just-just kill me- don’t have to- to scare the boy like that- please!” He begged, grunting from the uneven flight path She-ri flew. Poor girl was in pain, she didn’t deserve to suffer when you did.

It would be over soon.

Grabbing the old man by his braid, making his seize up in pain.

You grit your teeth, blood leaking down your stomach, soaking your loincloth as you lifted him up.

“See him demon? How confused he is, looking for his so called family, looking for you.” You whispered in his ear, red eyes glaring down at the human as he looked around the beach, not knowing where to go, what to do.

“Don’t-do this.” His voice cracked, but you didn’t care, anger, rage and pain going through you.

“You cannot protect him now. This is for the sullys. For- my love.” Tears went down your cheeks as you remembered the last breath he took, the last time his heart beat.

He was gone. And now his killer is as well.

The knife that was covered in your blood, tight in your hold. “You don’t deserve mercy.”

“Guys?! Guys?!” Spider looks around frantically, ear piece smashed yet he still tried to get some kind of connection.

Thump!

Woosh Woosh Woosh…

The human flinched from the sound, head whipping back, only to see something he wished he didn’t. Spider looks up, eyes following the loud noise of the ikran wings. The one who dropped the vet off. But it was already gone in the distance, with no one on its back as it looked for its next victim.

“Sir?…” He called out, but he knew there wasn’t any use, there wasn’t any point in calling out to the man that didn’t raise him. He could see the arrow was ripped throughout his back, the rope bloodied. But he was still his father.

“Hey… Sir!” He yelled out, naked feet hitting the hot sand as he ran to the man.

Spider grunts as he turns the sky person over, only to see a knife through his head.

Part 2>>>>>>

#avatar quaritch #quaritch x reader #neteyam #neteyam x reader #avatar angst #avatar the way of water #avatar spoilers #spider sully #jake sully #jake sully x y/n

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rea-listing · 4 months

Text

Vampire (Smut) G.L

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

It was a dark night as I trudged along unfamiliar streets in town. Somehow, I had managed to lose my way and ended up in an area that felt foreign. Confused, I decided to walk aimlessly, hoping to find a familiar face or landmark that would guide me home.

Turning right, I stumbled upon a narrow alleyway. My heart fluttered with a mixture of apprehension and relief, possibly might find a shortcut to the main street.

As I walked through the dim path, I saw a figure hunched on the ground at the end of the alley. The man looked frail, unhealthy, his skin was pale.

My heart skipped a beat as I recognized the man. It was Georg, my best friend since childhood. However, he looked so different, so ill.

What struck me most about his appearance were his teeth, especially his pronounced canines. They were sharp-looking, resembling fangs. I hesitated, started to back away.

But then, Georg pleaded in a weak, almost inaudible voice, "Help me." Despite all logical reasoning, I was drawn towards him, wanting to aid my ailing friend.

I took a few cautious steps towards him, reaching out my hand. Suddenly, with a speed I could not have anticipated, he grabbed my arm and pinned me to the wall.

Panic surged through me as I felt his fangs dig into my neck. It was a sharp, intense pain, followed by an unnatural coldness spreading across my body. It feels so bad... but so good…?

Georg looks into my eyes. I am weak, he has taken so much blood from me. And yet, I’m enjoying this. The feeling is amazing...

It's better than anything I have experienced... Georg, still looking into my eyes, licks the blood from my neck, soon after, pulling away.

"I've wanted to do that forever Y/n." He whispers, catching his breath. "I fucking love you, I need you... I need you to be mine!" He grabs at your shirt, looking in my eyes. "Will you let me make you mine?"

I nod my head, him immediately reacting.

He grips my hand, leading me into a nearby building. I try to analyze your surroundings, Georg interrupting by bending me over and pinning me to a table. From what I could tell, the place looks like a hideout and nobody but the both of us are there.

His grip on me grows tighter, pulling me closer. The intensity of our lovemaking is overwhelming, it's almost too much for me to handle. But I know that Georg will take care of me. He always has.

His pace quickens and I can feel him twitch inside of me. My moans get louder, so loud that I am screaming his name. He must love that because he starts to thrust deeper. This sends me over the edge. I cum, basically drooling in pleasure. He doesn't stop though.

"I'm not done yet, I haven't finished." He says between groans. His fingernails claw into my hips as he gets closer. Suddenly he lets his load out inside me, it feels amazing-

I open your eyes, in a bed, next to my husband.. Georg. He looks right at me.

"Have a nice dream sweetie?" He smirks.

#bill kaulitz #georg listing #gustav schäfer #tokio hotel #tom kaulitz #bill kaulitz x reader #tokio hotel smut #tokio hotel x reader #bill kaulitz smut

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justcallmefox89 · 5 months

Text

The Grove Part II

X'aa'nath's past is revealed.

"I saw you at the gates. You fight well. A few words for the kids? Spare a story or two?” Ashrak’s voice carries over to the pair.

Oh no.

Gale hurries over in an attempt to cut X’aa’nath off before too much damage is done.

“Bad news, children: you are all going to die.”

Too late.

The children whimper and back away in fear while Astarion cackles gleefully. X’aa’nath stands stoically, a slightly confused look on his face as Ashrak and Wyll both glare at him.

“Good job,” Ashrak scolds the gith, scowling. “Was that truly necessary?”

X’aa’nath returns his scowl, reflexively lowering his hand to his dagger. “I speak nothing but the truth, istik. They are small, they are weak, they are inexperienced, and if this paltry training session is all you can offer them, when your enemies come they will be the first to die. Their deaths will be because of your failings, not my words.”

Gale grabs X’aa’nath’s forearm and tugs him away as Wyll deftly steps between the two men, softly murmuring words of peace.

“Aww,” Astarion pouts. “It was just getting interesting.”

*********************************************************

“I cannot believe you did that! Were you deliberately trying to frighten them?”

I usually find the wizard’s voice soothing, but his nagging has not ceased since we left the grove, and my limited patience has nearly run out.

“It was cruel,” Wyll chimes in.

“If you found that cruel then you’ve truly led a blessed and sheltered life, she’lak,” I respond without looking at him, my tone deliberately bored.

“I know that things are different in githyanki culture, but you cannot just run amok-”

Gale’s voice is instantly silenced as I make a small hand gesture beneath my robes. He frowns, opening and closing his mouth, clearly speaking words, and growing increasingly frantic when he is unable to make even the smallest sound.

I allow myself a tiny smile; unfortunately Wyll notices.

“What did you do?” he demands, glaring at me.

This time I don’t bother concealing my hands. One quick flick of my wrist later and Wyll’s voice no longer plagues my ears.

“What on earth did you do to them?” Astarion asks, openly fascinated. “Can you do it to other people? And why haven’t I seen one of them do it?”

I merely shrug, smirking at the impotent glares the two humans give me. “It is a simple enough spell. I use it more as a reminder than anything else.”

Astarion gives me a sidelong look. “A reminder of what, my dear?”

“In this case?” I allow my eyes to dispassionately roam over the two human spellcasters. “That no matter what bargains have been made with devils, or whatever blessings have been bestowed by an inferior goddess, their magic… everything they are, every gift they have is conditional. And can easily be taken away.”

I pause, allowing a small ball of lighting to form in my hand, rolling it easily over my long fingers. “But I… I have been blessed by the elements. I am magic incarnate; I am the storm. My powers cannot be taken from me, and even if some istik ever managed such a feat, I was trained for years by one of Vlaakith’s most powerful kith’raks. I can kill with a sword just as easily as magic, and it would be wise not to annoy me.”

Astarion grins slowly, flashing his long, white canines. “Oh… I think I’m going to like you even more than I originally thought.”

He links his arm through mine and leads me away from Wyll and Gale, peppering me with questions about the potential uses for my magic.

Several hours later….

“I see kin has finally seen fit to give you your voice back.”

Gale startles, splashing a bit of stew over the edge of the cauldron, causing the campfire to sizzle and smoke. “Lae’zel! I… yes. He has.”

She crouches down next to the wizard, watching intently as he adds various spices and vegetables to the evening’s stew. “Remember this next time you irritate him. X’aa’nath can steal the air from your lungs just as easily as he can steal your voice. He was merciful today, though I do not understand why.”

Gale snorts and rolls his eyes. “You and I have very different perceptions of mercy, Lae’zel.”

She shrugs one shoulder nonchalantly. “You are not his varsh, nor his kith’rak. Who are you or the warlock to attempt to lecture him?”

“He terrorized those children! There was -”

“He terrorized them, or he told a truth that you and the warlock did not want to hear?” Lae’zel interrupts, golden eyes piercing him to the spot.

Gale remains silent, tossing a last bit of chopped up carrot into the stew and stirring it thoroughly. While he adamantly objects to the way X’aa’nath handled the situation, it would be a lie for Gale to say he had never considered the possibility that many of the tieflings would die before reaching Baldur’s Gate. “There was no reason for him to scare them like that,” he says eventually.

Lae’zel tilts her head to the side for a moment, considering. “Do you know what happens when an egg fails to hatch with the rest of its clutch?”

Gale blinks, confused by the sudden change in subject. “No?”

“It is destroyed. The weak have no place in githyanki society.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“X’aa’nath did not hatch with the rest of his clutch. His egg was to be destroyed, but Kith’rak Khou’zal stepped in, saying he felt the unhatched child held great potential. Khou’zal waited, relinquishing his spot as one of Vlaakith’s most valued knights and becoming varsh to an unhatched egg. When the rest of their creche moved on, he remained here on the material plane, training the hatchling.”

“You were part of the same creche?”

She shakes her head. “No, but Khou’zal’s madness was a topic of much conversation among the elders in creche K’liir. Why would a revered warrior give up his return to the Astral Plane to stay here alone and raise a whelp who should have been crushed long ago?”

“How do you know that X’aa’nath is that hatchling?” Gale asks quietly.

“As it was only Khou’zal and the hatchling, they had no permanent creche. So they traveled, visiting other creches occasionally, allowing the hatchling to train with other githyanki younglings. I was in the final stages of my training when they visited creche K’liir.” Lae’zel falls silent, turning her attention inward, staring back on a memory that only she can see.

“What was he like then?” Gale wonders aloud.

Lae’zel huffs a small laugh. “Arrogant. Silent. Smaller than all the other hatchlings. Gifted. They dismissed him because of his size. They knew him as a stunted egg who should never have hatched. He was challenged by many.”

Gale’s eyes automatically search out X’aa’nath, spotting him as he leaves camp, walking towards the shore. Even now the young sorcerer is noticeably smaller than Lae’zel, shorter by far than the average adult gith, but no less physically powerful. “What happened when they challenged him?”

Lae’zel slight smile is cast in a sinister glow by the firelight. “He killed them all. The one who was never supposed to be slaughtered many of my clutch-mates. And they deserved it, for underestimating him.”

Gale stares at her, horrified.

“You view what he did today as cruelty, but he really performed a kindness. Hope is not what those tieflings need right now, wizard. Hope will not protect them in the coming weeks. They need to truly face everything that is at stake, even the children.” Lae’zel stands, running her hands up and down her thighs.

Gale remains next to the campfire, absently mindedly stirring the stew, looking up occasionally to see to X’aa’nath has returned to camp yet. After several long minutes he stands up, brushing down his robes, and hurries to the shore, missing the knowing smiles Karlach and Astarion exchange.

It doesn’t take him long to find the sorcerer, sitting cross legged by the water, eyes serenely closed as he engages in his nightly meditations. The numerous walls guarding his mind have been temporarily lowered in his relaxed state, allowing Gale’s tadpole to connect with his. Memories slam into the wizard’s consciousness, their intensity bringing him to his knees.

X’aa’nath as a child, facing down a ferocious looking owlbear with only a dagger, tears in his eyes as he looks towards a silver-hair githyanki knight for aid.

“Summon your strength and attack! Whether you live or die falls on you, X’aa’nath! Save yourself!” the elder gith commands. “Utilize your training!”

X’aa’nath, only a few years older, surrounded by other gith younglings in large training room. His eyes are wild, darting around looking for escape as the others close in on him, hands tearing at his hair and skin.

X’aa’nath, perhaps only a year or two younger than he is now, standing silently in yet another unfamiliar creche training room, spattered in blood and his long, white hair in disarray, surrounded by the fallen bodies of his kin. The silver haired elder, Khou’zal, Gale surmises, stands by his side, wearing a look of intense pride.

A few days ago, aboard the crashing nautiloid. Khou’zal and X’aa’nath crouch behind a broken mindflayer pod, both injured and breathing hard. Khou’zal shoves a large supply pack in X’aa’nath’s arms, along with a crossbow and several daggers.

“Go!” he shouts, pushing the young gith away from him.

Both gith turn their heads, eyes widening at the sound of several rapidly approaching illithid.

“I won’t leave you!” X’aa’nath argues, summoning a large ball of lighting, determination settling over his features.

Khou’zal takes him by the shoulders, shaking him hard. “This is my final command as your varsh, child. Go. Now. I will buy you as much time as I can.”

X’aa’nath’s resolve wavers in the face of his elder’s command, but after a moment he collects himself, scowling. “I will not.”

Khou’zal shoves him, hard, leaping to his feet and drawing a large, silver sword as the mindflayers draw ever closer. “I will not let you die here, gish! Not before you’ve even had a chance to live.”

The sorcerer hesitates, the will to live and dedication to his varsh warring inside him.

“You have always been my joy, X’aa’nath, even when I was unable to show it. Now go, my child.” Khou’zal gives him a last, fierce smile before charging into battle, meeting the illithids head on with a flash of silver.

X’aa’nath closes his eyes, and to his eternal shame, he turns and runs.

The memories stop abruptly, and Gale opens his eyes to see X’aa’nath staring at him, pale eyes reflecting the silver light of the moon.

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grizzersmamma · 8 months

Text

Son of Zmei | Fae AU | Nikto x F!Reader | Part 2.

Overview: Nikto confronts Mr. Petrov & Reader gets a visitor who drops some new information.

A/N: Second part babyyyyy! I’m on a roll now. Shorter than the last part, but the next one should be a bit longer. Continuation of my little Nikto fic based on the Fae AU by @ghouljams

Warnings: Murder, Arson.

Series Masterlist: Here

CoD Masterlist: Here

Prev Part | Next Part

The man kneeling at Nikto’s feet is quivering like a leaf in the breeze, head pressed to the floor in a deeply exaggerated bow. It does little to quell the simmering rage that burns just under his skin, leaving him to huff out a plume of smoke in his agitation. Clearly, this pathetic excuse for a human doesn’t understand what kind of situation he’s in.

“Mighty Zmei, forgive me for failing you,” the irritating cretin pleads, “allow me to try again, I can do better!”

He can’t help the growl that rumbles out of him, one of his lips curling to show off his pointed canine. “You offered a life, willingly given, in exchange for your own,” he hisses, starting to circle the human, “you think I cannot take a human if I desire one?” Petrov jumps at his sharp tone, mouth opening and closing silently.

“O-Of course not, I-”

“You think I am a fool? You would try to deceive me? To break your word by offering the life of another who has not agreed?” His words get louder with each passing syllable, sharp teeth now on full display in a horrifying snarl.

“Never, All Powerful Zmei! I could never hope to trick someone so wise!” the coward grovels, stinking of fear.

The black shepherd dog snaps it’s jaws at the man’s face and the raven, perched on one of the chairs, caws angrily. The animals are growing restless at the clear disrespectful behaviour of the human, goading Nikto into action. “We have given you a chance to repay us, the deal is off.”

It seems Petrov has some spine, for the man straightens, “merciful Zmei, to throw away the years of work I have dedicated to you, it would-it would be foolish!”

The heads of all three dark figures, man, bird and dog, all snap to glare at the human. “We are no fool!” their voices join together, speaking as one entity. Their bodies have begun to shift, twisted and drawing together, the lines between the three different creatures growing blurred. “We require your services no longer.”

Minutes later, Nikto, the dog and the raven stand together in the street. They watch as the house belonging to Petrov burns steadily, flames casting dancing shadows across the nearby houses. The smoke does not bother them, nor the heat.

Eventually, they turn to leave.

The raven flies off ahead, while the man and dog walk. “Return to the female. She is oblivious, too fragile to be near so many Fae,” he spits the word in disgust.

“Would such a weak creature be a suitable mate?” the dog replies, an exact copy of Nikto’s voice.

He simply snorts, “we are strong enough for the two of us,” he says simply. The two part ways, Nikto to return to their home and the dog to return to his duty protecting their newest prize.

When the sun rises, you wake with a large, furry body pressed up against you. It startles you, until you recall the events of yesterday. You had been exhausted after returning home, emotionally and physically drained from needing to walk so far back to your home after enduring such a terrifying encounter. The dog had refused to leave when you’d tried to shoo it away and, reluctantly, you decided to allow the canine into your home.

It would be wrong for you to abandon the poor dog after it had followed you all the way back to your house. The man who owned him was a creep, but you couldn’t find it in you to leave an innocent dog out in the street where anything could happen to it.

The dog in question wriggles about slightly to get comfortable, kicking you with big paws while whining loudly. Clearly, he was unhappy with you disturbing his rest, because he rolls over, putting his back to you with a rather dramatic sigh. It’s admittedly rather adorable, even if you don’t recall inviting the animal into your bed. The blanket you’d put on the floor for him is untouched, clearly not good enough for the massive ball of black fur.

“You need to go home, buddy,” you mumble, stroking the animal’s silky fur. You know it’s not safe to have an unknown dog in your home at all, let alone sharing your bed, but you get the feeling you aren’t in any real danger.

This thought is confirmed when the dog turns its head to try and nose at your fingers, offering them a small lick.

When you finally gather the strength needed to get out of bed, the dog is more than happy to follow after you, hopping down from the mattress and onto the floor with a loud thump. It treks through the house, patiently watching while you complete your morning routine.

You don’t have any dog food in the house, so you offer him some leftovers from your dinner a few nights ago after ensuring there isn’t anything poisonous to dogs in it. He doesn’t seem to mind the food, snapping it up at rapid speed.

Not needing to be at work (and not planning on going back), you’re sitting comfortably on the living room couch, a warm drink in hand, while your canine companion takes up the rest of the couch. You had attempted to tell him not to climb on the cushions, not wanting dog hair shedding all over everything, but your words fell on deaf ears. So now, you sit on the furthermost cushion with the dog resting its huge head on your thigh.

After a little bit of Googling on your phone, you believe you’ve figured out what breed the dog is. He’s huge and fluffy, clearly built for a cold climate and likely a livestock guardian dog of some kind. It took a while, but you managed to narrow it down to a Caucasian shepherd thanks to the abundance of pictures on Google Images.

He’s sweet, but you’re not sure you’d be able to afford to feed such a huge dog, especially now you’re abandoning your job. It would be best for you to drop the dog off at the local vet. He’s probably microchipped, and if not, you’re sure they’ll be able to track the owner down. Such a huge dog is probably fairly memorable to someone who will know how to find his owner.

You’re startled from your peaceful morning by a knocking at your door.

The dog leaps to his feet, scampering to the front door with a snarl on his face. He starts barking, pacing back and forth. You’re a little anxious to try and get between the dog and the door, but he thankfully seems to back off once you draw close.

When you pull the door open, you’re met by a police officer. “Good morning, miss,” the man seems anxious, glancing warily at the massive dog growling at him from behind you.

“Hi,” you greet slowly, unsure, “is there something I can help you with?”

After confirming your identity, the man sighs softly, offering you a sympathetic smile, “I’m very sorry, but I’m here to inform you that your employer, Mister Petrov unfortunately passed away last night.” You blink at that, swallowing nervously, but the man must not notice, for he continues, “there was a fire at his apartment block.”

“Oh... that’s horrible...” you’re not sure how to respond to that, stunned.

Were you responsible for what happened? Was the strange, masked man, Nikto, responsible? A nervous sweat breaks out across your forehead.

“A lawyer will be around shortly to discuss the assets afforded to you.”

“The assets?” you asks.

“Ah, yes, it appears Mister Petrov left you some of his assets in his will, miss,” the officer smiles, oblivious to your internal battle. He offers you a brief farewell that you numbly return before leaving you once more to your own devices.

The dog offers you a bark, nudging at your side when you continue to stare after the officer’s retreating form, snapping you out of your stupor. With a deep sigh, you step back into your home and close the door. You gently lean your head against the door, taking a moment to collect yourself.

When you turn around, the dog is staring at you intensely.

“What?” you ask him with a snort, as though he could actually respond to you.

“You are a strange human,” the dog says.

You faint on the spot.

#writing #call of duty modern warfare #cod nikto #nikto call of duty #nikto x reader #tf 1fae1 #fae au

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snarkythewoecrow · 8 months

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is my will weak? am I posting another out-of-context snippet from my ever growing mpreg!Buck fic? yeah, I can't help it. I love this one and it's gonna be a long haul to the finish line (probably closer to 100k than 50k) and I just need all the cheering and excitement I can get, and it's gonna be such a ride, the hurt/comfort and angst, the emotional whiplash, the softness, and the enemy to lovers!

Anyway, this snippet is of Bobby and Athena just being the best, and I adore them both

“Is it safe to assume you brought him home with you?” Bobby asked, holding his coffee to the side so he could lean in and kiss his wife.

It might be late, but in his line of work, coffee became an all occasion and any time of day beverage.

Her lips quirked upward against his as she hummed. “Like you needed to ask.”

Of course, he didn’t. It was in her nature—family and pack were paramount in Athena’s life, as they should be, and when it came to Buck, there was no questioning his place with them.

He chuckled, pecked her lips again, then went to sit with his coffee on the chair beside her. “So?” he asked, taking a sip. “How is he?”

“You mean more like, is he, right?” She raised a brow, then sighed at his shrug. “Well, I think you already know, but yeah, he’s with pup.”

And then it was his turn to sigh, resting the mug on his knee. He’d spent the rest of the shift replaying the last few weeks, shocked by the emotions it stirred. The ache and guilt at what it could mean, and now knowing, his inner demons warred against his heart.

It was a strange thing to feel happiness for something but also such sadness, as he might be getting his first grandchild, but it was a reminder of another thing he'd never get to experience with his first pups, those he’d lost in the fire.

He turned his head, watching her for a moment, taking in her beauty and just being grateful for what he did have.

A familiar look, brow lifting came over her face. “What’s got you all heart-eyed, not that I mind?”

He shrugged, then smiled. “Hadn’t expected this, but I don’t know, I think you’d make grandma-hood look pretty sexy.”

“Grandma-hood?” she laughed, shaking her head, then fixing a look in his direction. “Don’t you think you’re jumping the gun? I haven’t even told you if he’s keeping it.”

Actually, he didn’t need her to—it was there in her eyes—but he played along. “That’s true, so, let me ask, is he?”

Another sigh, then an even softer smile. “He is—he’s scared half to death about failing—but then, weren’t we all like that the first time around?”

“Oh yeah, terrified, actually.” He sipped his coffee. “And the alpha? I mean, I’ve been thinking it over, and morning sickness is one thing, but I’m already a little worried about him developing issues from not having him around.”

And at the mention of the alpha, Athena’s jaw tightened, then a sharp scoff cut the air. “Alpha, more like some fucking piece of shit knothead,” she hissed, looking ready to show her canines. A shadow had settled over her face. “We talked on the way over here, and he told me some things he’d left out before—like that—that—scum had just yanked free, Bobby! He didn’t even care if he hurt him—just ripped free and fucking bolted.”

She took a controlled breath. “I’ll tell you one thing, he’d better not show his face near me, because I’m liable to tear him limb from limb—don’t think I won’t.”

Bobby put up his free hand in a show of surrender. “Hey, if I’ve learned anything, it’s not to mess with a pissed off mama when it comes to her pup. You’ll get no arguments from me.”

Athena nodded. “Good,” and then she smiled a bit, looking at him. “He is our pup, isn’t he? One of my babies?”

“Pretty sure you claimed him within the first day,” he bit back a smile.

“Yeah, I suppose I did—and now he’s giving us our first grandbaby. When did we get old?”

Shaking his head, he finished the last of his coffee, setting the cup on the table, then stood, wiggling his finger in invitation. “Come on, grandma—let’s take this to the bedroom. I have a feeling we’ll need the sleep.”

Standing, she bumped her shoulder into his side. “Sleep, huh? What—you worried I’m gonna break a hip?”

He kissed her temple, a little laugh escaping as he wrapped an arm around her waist. “Well… you’re the one that said we’re getting old.”

She slapped his chest playfully before pulling him toward their room. “We’ll see about that, Grandpa.”

#bathena #buddie #buddie 911 #buddie fic #mpreg #a/b/o dynamics #911 abc #snippets #my wips #snark writes #the mpreg!buck story

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deadcellmate · 6 months

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The Blood Queen & Her King

Summary: A mysterious stranger changes the course of a nomarch's life forever. Word Count: 3,536 Rating: Mature Pairing: Gaius Augustine x Kamilah Sayeed Content Notes: Canon typical violence. Read it on AO3 It was as though he wanted it to hurt, wanted her to earn whatever it was he claimed he was going to give her.

Kamilah feared Gaius when she first met him, hated the arrogant glimmer in his eyes, wanted nothing more than to plunge a dagger deep into his chest. She had plunged a dagger deep into his chest, relishing in the way the crimson liquid spilled at his feet, into the sand, onto her dress, staining it.

Pity it hadn’t been enough. It didn’t stop him from grabbing her by the wrists, sharp, elongated teeth tearing into her neck. She hadn’t remembered screaming—though she was certain she had. But it didn’t matter. His hand clasped over her mouth, and he drank. It was pain unlike anything she’d ever experienced before, hot knives sinking into tender flesh. It didn’t subside. It was as though he wanted it to hurt, wanted her to earn whatever it was he claimed he was going to give her.

I don’t want it, she wanted to yell. There is nothing you could give me that will help me reach what I truly want.

What she truly wanted was for her brother to come back. Deep in her bones, with every Roman army she took down, every fleet she attacked, that was what she was working towards. She cognitively understood that was impossible, illogical, so she was willing to try to settle for thousands of dead Romans at her feet. She meant it when she said she would not stop until she no longer drew breath; most likely, Marc Antony would whisper into her cousin’s ear to have her executed as a traitor in order to stop her. If he hadn’t come along, that was how it was going to end.

She’d been told the story of Helen of Troy a few times when she was a child. She didn’t care for it, but as she began to lose consciousness, either from the pain or the blood loss, as she heard the sound of soldier’s feet thundering against the sand, she thought of it again. How many ships would they launch to avenge her? How many ships would he launch if she tried to escape from his grasp?

Gaius brought Kamilah a gift when she woke up. He presented it to her after the worst of the shock had worn off, when she was no longer focused on the tangy, sweet, metallic taste lingering in the back of her throat, the newfound length of her canines, the hunger boiling inside of her.

She was too weak to fight him when he helped her out of the hole he’d dug for her in the desert sand, too weak to struggle against his grasp as he carried her back to her tent and set her on her feet. And worst of all, she was too hungry to react when she saw the Roman soldier chained to the chair, his mouth gagged, hatred and fury in his eyes, struggling against his bonds.

“As I promised,” Gaius said. “A gift for you.”

“One of your own men?”

“Octavian won’t miss him.” Gaius said. “And who am I to deny you such a simple pleasure?”

He didn’t have to tell her what she needed to do, what the soldier was for. She already understood, from the way the hunger turned into an ache, a demand, the way she felt her canines elongate again. She was upon the soldier before she even understood what she was doing, her fangs ripping into his throat. He must have screamed, but she didn't hear it. The taste of his blood in her mouth was better than the sweetest fruits, the finest wines. Nothing could compare to it.

But then, when the soldier slumped forward in the chair, dead and depleted, reality hit her. She’d killed plenty of roman soldiers, but never in such a grotesque way. She’d never enjoyed it the way she enjoyed this. She was scared, not because of what she had done, but because what she knew she was going to do: she would kill like this again. She would enjoy it immensely. And may the gods help whoever tried to stop her.

Kamilah tackled Gaius, hands wrapped around his throat, squeezing as hard as she could. “What did you do to me?” She demanded. She was startled by how desperate and ragged and scared her voice sounded. “What did you do to me?!”

She wished she could kill him. She tried to, squeezing down on his windpipe, hoping brute force would finally get the job done. Despite the sound of bones breaking, despite the fact that she was choking him harder than she’d ever choked anybody in her life, it didn’t matter. Because all he did was laugh.

“I made you better. Stronger.”

“You made me into a demon. Like you!”

His eyes glowed a deep, bloody red. “I made you into a god.” He grabbed her by the shoulders, easily pushing her off of him. He got back onto his feet, cracking his neck back into place.

“A god of blood.”

“Look me in the eye and tell me you didn’t enjoy draining the life out of that soldier.” Gaius said. He looked down at her, knowing full well she couldn’t. When she didn’t answer, he smiled. “You’re scared. Angry. Confused. I understand.”

He knelt down in front of her. “But I chose you for a reason. I need someone like you.” He ran his thumb along her jaw. She jerked away from him.

“Don’t touch me.”

“Apologies, my queen.”

“And don’t call me that.”

Gaius laughed. “I like you already.”

Centuries later, when people asked her about it, Kamilah framed it as a sort of amusing story. The story of two perfectly matched people who had no idea what they’d come across yet. Centuries after that, long after Gaius was gone, she’d be at a business dinner or something of the sort attended by humans where there was always at least one happily married couple. Inevitably, the story of how the two of them got together would come up. It always made her heart thaw and ache, not because she was particularly prone to get emotional over that sort of thing, but because of how much it reminded her of the way she used to talk about him, which deeply alarmed her.

The story of their love began with a deal. Kamilah didn’t want to be anywhere near Gaius. She wanted to run as far away as she could. She’d take her chances out in the desert. No, she’d feast upon the Romans, making her way all the way to their capitol, making the streets run red with blood. Gaius had other plans for her, of course.

She tried to point out the obvious to get him to let her go: she was a nomarch. Her men were all dead. People would go looking for her. Not to mention, she had no desire to go anywhere with Gaius. So, what do you intend to do? She demanded. Force me by your side until you break me?

“You reject what I have to offer before you you’ve experienced it.” Gaius replied.

“I don’t want what you have to offer.”

“You don’t want power? You don’t want to be respected?”

“I am respected.”

“You’d be a vizier if not for your sex.” Gaius said. “Egypt still wouldn’t have been able to defeat the Romans under your counsel, but you wouldn’t be part of such a humiliating loss.”

“How dare you.”

“You don’t hold a deep love for your nation. You seek vengeance.” Gaius continued. “And I can give that to you.”

“Not when you fight for the Romans, you can’t.”

Gaius shook his head. “I don’t fight in human conflicts because I believe in their causes. I fight for my security. And as it stands, the Roman empire has offered me comforts that the Egyptians refused. But I’ve no true loyalty to their soldiers.”

Gaius let out a breath, moving away from Kamilah. “I know how it feels to lose somebody who means the world to you. Somebody who you can’t live without. And I take it that is what’s happened to you.”

“You don’t know the first thing about me.”

“Sorrow sings in your blood.” Gaius replied. “You seek to destroy those who destroyed whoever you lost.” He turned back to Kamilah. “I will give you what you want if you will give me what I want.”

“And what is it that you want?”

“As I’ve said. A queen. Somebody by my side. Somebody who can fight alongside me. Somebody who can help me enact my vision of the world.”

“I’ve no interest in sharing a bed with you.”

“I never said that.” Gaius said. “But I’m not finished. I can give you what you want if you stand beside me. We can look for whoever took the person you love. You can do whatever it is you wish with him.”

“You’re trying to trick me.”

“And what makes you so sure of that?”

“It’s an empty promise.” Kamilah said. “It’s a promise of searching, not of finding.”

“I don’t intend to trick you.”

“And why should I believe that?” Kamilah said.

“You don’t have a choice.”

“I always do.”

“Then what will satisfy you?”

“A month.” Kamilah said, surprised by her certainty. “I will be by your side for a month. You will find me the man who killed my brother. If you can’t, I will leave, and you won’t stop me.”

“And if I do?”

Kamilah let out a breath. “Then I will be your queen.”

“Then you have a deal.”

It only took two weeks to find the man who killed Lysimachus. Perhaps Gaius was motivated to prove a point. Perhaps he only made the initial proposal because he knew it was a promise he could easily deliver.

Lysimachus had been a general, which meant that his death was news amongst the Romans. It was a victory that a cunning and strategic man had been disposed of. The man that killed him boasted about it, which meant that he had a name, a face, a location. They expected he’d be in Alexandria, which would have complicated things, but no, he was stationed in an outpost several miles outside of the city, among a fleet of men holding off on as many Egyptian soldiers as they could.

They dragged him out of his bed, deeper into the desert. He fought the entire way there, screaming and begging, tears running down his face, all whyareyoudoingthisimaninnocentmanimjustoneofoctavianssoldiersletmego.

Kamilah didn’t dignify it with a response. She always thought if she ever had the chance to kill the man who killed Lysimachus, she would tell him about the person whose life he snuffed out, how she grieved, how everything she’d done since then was building up to this moment.

But this man no longer seemed like a being who changed her life. He was pathetic, ordinary. His entire life had been building up to this moment, the moment that she would kill him, and he was too stupid to realize it.

She tore into his neck, blood splattering, making no attempt to preserve his life for any longer than necessary. She drank eagerly, hungrily as he thrashed against her. She bit harder into his flesh, tearing out his throat with her teeth, not caring that he would bleed out in less than a minute because of what she’d done. She didn’t want to give him a quick death, but she’d given him a painful death. And that was enough.

When she was finished, she looked over at Gaius, who sat atop a dune, a smile on his face. Kamilah noticed that he smiled a lot in the last two weeks, but there were seemingly infinite reasons as to why he smiled. Sometimes, it was out of arrogance, of knowing he’d bested someone. Other times, it was out of thinly veiled annoyance. Other times, it was out of amusement.

But this was out of pride. Proud of the creature he’d created. Proud of being right about Kamilah. Proud of what they’d pulled off in two weeks.

Proud that he’d won.

For the first three decades they shared together, they were partners, not lovers. He was her king, she was his queen, but what that really meant was that she was his second in command. His other progenies turned to her authority in Gaius’s absence. His other progenies bowed to both of them.

They grew close. Of course they did. As time passed, she began to develop a fondness for Gaius she hadn’t expected. He was quick witted and sharp-tongued, charming when he needed to be.

It was odd, the things he did that she found endearing. The way he’d always let her make the first kill, the way he began to select people to feed on based on what he discerned to be her taste, the way he was almost loving towards his victims, the way he told stories of battle, the way it changed depending on who he was talking to. He was braggadocios with most of his progeny. With her, he was detailed, once he figured out that she was more interested in strategy than glory.

In the beginning, he was vague about his past, about who he was before he became what he was. But slowly, he began to reveal more and more about himself. Gaius told her the story of the one before him, the Goddess and Mother of All Vampires, Rheya. She’d been taken from him just as Lysimachus had been taken from Kamilah. He never wanted to discuss how it happened. He preferred to focus on her life, on who she was.

“She was a force of nature.” Gaius told her once. “Not unlike you.”

“Is that why you chose me? Because I remind you of her?”

“In a way.” Gaius said. “But it’s different. I stand beside you. I bowed before her.”

She knew it was something she couldn’t possibly understand, and she didn’t try to. From the way he described Rheya, she wasn’t his goddess the way Kamilah was his queen. Rheya was quite literally a goddess. Kamilah was never going to compete with that, and there was no reason to try. Though, part of her wondered why that had been her instinct, why the more he spoke of Rheya, the more she felt twinges of jealousy rearing their head.

She wasn’t expecting the fondness she had for him to grow into something else entirely. It crept up on her in the right at the very end of their first thirty years together.

They were back in the Roman empire. What began as a brief stint in Pompeii that ended in a hundred people dead and countless others whispering stories about demons cloaked in beauty who only came out at night festered into owing Tiberius several favors, which included assisting him in his conquest of Bohemia.

Thirty years ago, Kamilah would have refused. She would have run, deal with Gaius be damned. But things had changed. She viewed human conflicts similarly to Gaius now; it wasn't about what was right. It was about what would guarantee their survival. An allegiance with the Roman Empire meant they could do whatever they pleased on most of the continent.

Besides, Kamilah missed it. She was a skilled tactician as a human. With Gaius’s charisma and strength and her strategy, Bohemia would be Tiberius’s in no time.

In the beginning, it was victory after victory. This was where she truly learned how to fight. Gaius gifted her with a set of daggers and taught her how to use them. They fought back to back on the battlefield, covered in the blood of their enemies. She often found herself taken with his visage in the moonlight, the glimmer in his eyes as he played with his prey. There was a strange part of her that almost wished he’d look at her like that—

It was a distraction, and she began to consciously pay as little attention to Gaius as possible when they fought alongside each other, save for the occasional glance in his direction to make sure he didn’t need backup. He never did. It was an excuse, really. Kamilah knew that.

Their only drawback was a group of Bohemians that kept slipping out of Gaius and Kamilah’s grasp. Their strategy was similar to that of Kamilah’s when she fought the Romans thirty years before. When they struck Roman fleets, they took no prisoners. They attacked supply drops, taking whatever they could for themselves. They moved constantly. They had an advantage that Kamilah didn’t all of those years ago: they were used to being outside, used to the elements. Unlike the Roman soldiers, they could endure the worst of nature’s ills, which was just as well, because it was the middle of winter.

But she would destroy them, if only to prove that even they couldn’t best the roman empire.

The idea came to Kamilah after she’d attempted to Turn a Roman soldier who was a particularly skilled fighter, an asset to their conquest. He’d been run through with a spear and was already dead by the time Kamilah found him. The Turning didn’t take. She had to stake him as soon as he emerged from the ground, his skin grey and cracked, his teeth long and jagged, his eyes glowing a sickly red.

Gaius told her it happened sometimes. It wasn’t her fault.

“But what happened to him?”

“Turning a dead person is risky.” Gaius said. “Wait too long, they’ll emerge broken and hungry, shells of what they once were. All they’ll want to do is drink blood—any blood. Vampire or human.”

“But you could…” Kamilah trailed off. “You could do it intentionally. Couldn’t you?”

“What are you getting at?”

“That one fleet…they’re tricky, slippery. We’ve spent weeks trying to get rid of them. But maybe we’ve been going about it all wrong.”

“Have we?”

“They’re trying to tire us out. Don’t you think? But if we…”

“A surprise attack is a redundant suggestion, my queen.”

Kamilah rolled her eyes. “Not quite. We have to keep them in one place. Contained. Which means we need to create the illusion that we’ve given up. They’re going to overpower the other soldiers if we strike. But if we…if we made more of those things, set them lose on wherever they’ve settled…”

“We’ll get rid of them.” Gaius finished.

“And sunlight will take care of the rest.”

He took her hand.

“I love the way you think. Have I ever told you that, my queen?”

Kamilah smirked. “Plenty of times, my king.”

“Then I apologize for the redundancy. But I love the way you think.”

The Romans didn’t ask questions when Gaius gave the order to gather as many of their dead as possible after a battle in which they’d nearly been overpowered. They hauled the bodies around in a caravan for a week, all the while trying to lull their target into a false sense of security. Kamilah and Gaius tracked them down to a village deep into Bohemia, far from where the Bohemians and the Romans waged most of their battles.

“It’s perfect.” Gaius said. “We’ll strike tomorrow night.”

And so, they returned to the bodies they gathered, doing the disgusting work of Turning fifty dead men. They buried them in the woods by the village in the cover of darkness. They waited, exhuming them and getting out of their way, watching as these feral vampires headed straight in the direction of fresh, human blood.

It was a beautiful sight to behold, the chaos of it all. They sat atop a hill, Kamilah’s head resting against Gaius’s shoulder, watching as the ferals tore the village apart, watching as a fire broke out in the chaos, watching as not a single human was left away, watching as Rome’s victory over Bohemia was secured right before their very eyes.

Gaius took Kamilah’s hand. “I never had any doubts about you.” He said. “But now, I’m certain. We were always meant to cross paths. I was always supposed to find you.”

Kamilah rolled her eyes, mostly out of habit. “Are you going to tell me we were written in the stars?”

“You mock me, but you know I’m right.” He gestured at the burning village below him. “You’re cunning in a way that I am not. We need each other. Or rather, I need you.” He laughed. “At this point, I’d be concerned if you switched allegiances. You might actually be able to beat me at my own game.”

“You needn’t concern yourself with that.” Kamilah said.

“I shouldn’t?”

“I find myself growing more and more devoted to you with each breath I draw.”

“Do you, now?”

Before she could stop herself, she closed off the space between them, pressing her lips against his. He responded in kind, pulling her closer. He smiled against her mouth.

“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to do that?” He murmured.

“I think I can guess.”

As the village below them burned, they were wrapped up in their own world, enveloped in one another. And just as much as he was hers, Kamilah realized, she was his.

#bloodbound #playchoices #choices stories you play #kamilah sayeed #gaius augustine #gaius augustine x kamilah sayeed #gaius x kamilah #bloodbound fan fiction #choices fanfiction

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