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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 1 month

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Winter's King 6

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, cheating, violence, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You are a maid to the Duke of Debray, a lord of the Summer Kingdom. That is, until the king of Winter appears with his particular air of coldness. (Medieval AU)

Characters: Geralt of Rivia

Note: i slept so gosh dang heavy.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

You haul up the cask, one of the smaller but still heavy for your arms. The stairs are treacherous to the upper floors of the castle and you waddle down the corridors hugging the vessel with heavy steps. As you near the ivory room, you slow and face the wooden barrier. Should you knock?

You look down. You can’t balance the cask with one arm. You lean and tap with your foot as best you can. You wait and hear only the draughts flowing in from the windows. Then at once, the hinges groan and the door swings inward, the king already in retreat.

You enter, trying not to show your struggle, and carry it to the round table. You set it down with a loud clunk and your shoulders ache. You feel around your apron pockets for the spout. You sense the king’s mood clouding in the chamber.

“If you knew it was to be heavy, you could have said so,” he grits as he sits across the table from you.

“Your highness, it is not very much,” you lie. Your arms feel weak as you put the spout in place. You did not bring a stein. “I will fetch a cup--”

“I don’t care about the ale,” he rests one hand against the handle. “If you are thirsty, there is a cup in my bedroll.”

You back away, confused. You don’t protest or question him. Did you mishear him? He did request ale.

“So I am wed,” he mulls and toys with a loose lace hanging from the open collar of his shirt. It is untucked from his breeches as his hair is tangled around his shoulders.

“Good tidings for that, your highness,” you offer the expected courtesy.

He looks at you and you wince, putting your head down as you back away.

“Apologies, I speak out of turn,” you touch your chin.

He huffs, “weddings are supposed to be happy, are they not?”

You bow your head lower, “I believe so, your highness.”

He hums and tabs his fingers on the armrest, “I am not very happy.”

You stay as you are. He makes it hard to serve, he is cryptic to the point you can’t guess what he wants. You dare to peek up quickly but promptly retract your gaze as you meet his eyes.

“Speak your thoughts, I see them written upon your brow,” he commands.

You sway slightly and bend your arms behind you, “your highness--”

“Look at me,” he demands. You obey.

“Your highness,” you start cautiously, “you’ve been at war, perhaps you are sick for your home.”

He scoffs and rubs the coarse stubble on his jaw, “my home? You would not think that if you knew it.”

You slant your mouth. He raises his hand, gesturing with two fingers, “speak freely.”

“You are correct, your highness, I would not know. I’ve never been further than a day’s ride from this castle. I only hear that the north is cold but anyone might guess that.”

He snorts, “yes, it is cold. And dark. But the mountains, they are beautiful and when the snows fall, they glisten over the ground. So long as you have a fire to warm you, or a body near, it is not so bad.” He closes his eyes and leans his chin on his knuckles, “there are large elk with trees for antlers and the white wolves who blend into the snow but for their eyes, and the bears who sleep in the caves until the ground thaws in the springs.” He opens his eyes again and stares at you, “we have no summer there. The butterflies and flowers do not fare for long.”

You imagine the place he describes. Or attempt to. It sounds frightening. No summer?

“I’ve never seen snow,” you say at last.

He sits up and his expression eases, “then you will to come see it.”

You blink. Is he serious? Is that an order?

“I serve the castle--”

“You serve...” he swallows, “my wife and by rights I am her master. As she is yours, thus you serve me. She will need a familiar face once we are on to the Hinterlands. They are harrowing and she is weak. You will be her companion to see her through.”

You don’t argue. You never do. He is right. All that is Lady Jazlene’s is now his.

“Are you excited to come?” He asks.

You think. You will do as you’re told thought it is an unexpected, almost undreamt of, opportunity.

“I think I am, your highness. It is a far way and I’ve never been very far.”

“Mm,” he puts his elbow on the table, almost amused as he watches you, “are you afraid?”

“Why, yes, certainly,” you answer honestly. “You speak of bears and wolves. I’ve never seen those either, though I have seen deer.”

“Do not fear, even the bears and the wolves bow to King Geralt,” he lets himself laugh, a bawdy rumbling like thunder. It surprises you, “but first we must ride south to tidy up the summer countries. I must meet my people, make sure they are not left to ruin.”

You tilt your head but quickly fix it. He drones again, “speak.”

“That is kind of you. No, as you said before, prudent. To make certain the people are not unhappy. War leaves scars.”

“It leaves gaping wounds if one does stitch them up,” he counters, “a wise observation for a maid.”

Your cheeks twitch. You think it’s a compliment. You lower your chin.

“Ah,” he intones, “don’t. You don’t have to hide from me, little maid.”

His last words drag over his tongue. His timbre is like smoke. You feel how it traps the air in your chest. You linger, uncertain, across from him.

“Will you sit with me?” He asks and leans forward to pull out the chair nearest to him, “I rarely have pleasant company.”

You hesitate. What about Jazlene? He has her. She is his wife now. You don’t dare ask that question. You move carefully around the chair and sit. He stays forward in his chair, his arm on the table.

“I have told you of the Hinterlands, but what of you? I’ve seen some of your home but I expect this castle isn’t your real home,” he says.

“It is the only home I remember,” you murmur, “I’ve been here since I was a girl.”

His gold eyes flick down and he nods, “I didn’t...” he looks up again and leans back, a stitch in his brow, “would it make you unhappy to be away from home?”

You purse your lips. You’ve never thought of leaving. You don’t feel any sort of way about the prospect, nothing more than ignorant. You don’t know what awaits you outside those walls.

“I will go where I am bid,” you say evenly, “not many get to go so far from home. It would be nice to see more of the world.”

He hums as he watches you, brushing his fingers through his white hair. You watch how his index catches in a wave and he tugs it free with agitation. He pauses, holding out his hand before dropping it to his lap. He inclines his head as if to say, ‘what are you looking at?’

“Are there many people like you there?” You ask, voice shaky.

“Like me? There is only one king. I’ve made certain of that.”

“No, I... never mind,” you curl one hand around the other, “your highness.”

“Only me,” he affirms, “and what of you? I’ve yet to meet any like you.”

You furrow your nose, “there are lots of maids, your highness.”

He doesn’t respond and his shoulders drop. He once more runs his hand around his square jaw. He inhales and lets it out slowly.

“You should leave now,” he utters softly, “before...” he pauses and his eyes wander to the window, “before the dawn.”

You stand and bend your neck, “yes, your highness. I wish you a good sleep and a good marriage.”

He returns only another thick grunt. You leave him without looking back. As you’re shut out in the dark corridor, a clatter comes from the other side. You turn back but do not go through. You smell something stringent and feel something wet seeping into the stitches of your shoes. You kneel and put your fingers in the liquid leaking under the door. It’s the ale.

You stand and lean back on your heel. You never meant to anger the king. You will do well to stay out of the way. You don’t think you’ll be going to the Hinterlands after all. Merinda is much more fit for a royal court anyhow.

⚔️

You sleep hardly an hour before you are on your feet again. The castle is in a flurry to get the horses and luggage on the road. You and Merinda help Lady Jazlene dress as her head threatens to droop this way and that. She’s tired and her yawns tickle your throat as you hold back a similar act.

Lady Rezlyn enters, already dressed, her dark blue gown slashed with yellow in the sleeves. You and Merinda retreat to busy yourself with miniscule worries. The lady’s riding gloves and boots. A queen’s gloves and boots.

“Oh, my daughter,” Rezlyn sweeps over to put her hands to Jazlene’s cheek, admiring her daughter as she ever does, “I see your wedding night has left you fatigued. I expected no less of a man like the king.”

The lewd snicker from the duchess’ mouth makes your stomach churn. Jazlene trickles out a small chuckle and wriggles free of her mother’s grasp. She turns and sits to let you lace on her boots.

“What is it, then?” Rezlyn challenges, folding her arms. “Did it hurt very much? I told you, daughter, it wouldn’t be very pleasant if you stay dry as parchment.”

“Mother, please,” Jazlene begs, “I wasn’t...” she shakes her head and sniffs, “it was wonderful.” Her lie is told by the tremour in her void. She raises her head, “He is a true king and I am his queen now. These are matters between man and wife.”

Rezlyn scowls and sneers, “very well then. How quickly your head swells.”

“You will not mind so much when you see the advantage a queen’s mother reaps,” Jazlene’s bold tone returns. You see the same lady you’ve ever known. Haughty and stubborn. “I am off to meet my people, to ride through the kingdom. I will introduce my husband to my people and they will see they were wrong about me. Lady Theodora will choke on her stupid sapphire collar.”

“Precious, I know they will,” Rezlyn smirks, “they will all see how wrong they were about our family. The will recall at last your father’s title and the history behind it.”

Jazlene raises her chin and her nostrils flair, “is that why, mother? Is that why we’ve done this? To reclaim our glory?”

“To find new glory. In a new kingdom. Darling, don’t you see, you will watch over a realm larger than any before. You and the greatest king the world has known.”

You stand as Merinda hides her dry flutter of lashes. She is always much more amused by the flowery conversations between the duchess and her daughter. You can only think of the ale leaking under the door and the king’s declaration; ‘I am not very happy’.

When Jazlene rises, you tie a cape around her shoulders, the shimmering silver with the blue and violet flowers sewn into it. She is sparkling in her new role. A queen with even a circlet of silver in her curls, though it was formerly a necklace.

She emerges with her spine straight and her eyes set. She has readied all her life to be a wife though she just as easily acts a queen. Her shoulders are high and strong as she descends into the chaos of the castle.

You and Merinda follow behind the two ladies. Lord Dustan blusters towards them, the toggle buttons of his riding jacket unaligned with the loops. He looks between his daughter and wife.

“The horse will be ready shortly, are you ready to ride?” He sneers at Jazlene.

“Father, I am the queen. You do not tell me--”

“You are a queen and queen’s cannot be tardy. We must way to the capital to consolidate the kingdom. This is not a pageant,” he hisses.

“Is the carriage ready?” Jazlene asks.

“Carriage? You will ride abreast. All haste is required.”

“Father,” Jazlene shifts on her feet with discomfort, “I’d be better on a cushion than a saddle--”

“Argue it with the king then. His orders.”

Dustan storms past without further discussion and disappears through the outer doors into the courtyard. Jazlene pouts into a grimace and looks at her mother. Rezlyn gives a wry shrug.

“Well, your highness...” Rezlyn taunts.

“Motherrrrr,” Jazlene growls before she spins and breezes away in her father’s stead.

You trail the duchess into the dim hues of dawn. The yard is even more hectic than within. The king’s soldiers move like ants on a hill as their horses stand in patient rows, ready to be mounted. It is the Debray party that is in disarray.

As Jazlene weaves through the crowd, several of the castle hands back away and show their deference for their new queen. The black and grey soldiers of the Hinter carry on in checking their saddle bags and weapons. The king is near the gate, head down as a steely haired soldier speaks to him.

The duchess’ daughter, newly married, awoken a queen, approaches her husband without hesitation.

“I am told I am not to have a carriage? I cannot sit a horse. It is unseemly--”

King Geralt signals to his man with irritation. The soldier with eyes as grey as his hair quiets and backs away. You can tell by the pin on his mail that he must be important.

“You will,” the king says evenly. “We must be quick. I cannot have a broken axle. We ride as if to battle. In itself, this is exactly what we face.”

“But you have won--”

“I won in blood, but there are other victories to be claimed,” the king interjects, “still your tongue and obey your husband and king. The world does not exist as your cloistered life in this castle.”

“I am the queen and I want a carriage!” Jazlene squeals shrilly. Several heads turn as you keep your chin low. You know it isn’t the right response but Jazlene does not take orders easily.

“You have not yet been coronated,” the king snarls, “do not forget so quickly on who’s back you rose.”

Jazlene huffs and puts her hands to her hips. She steps closer to the king and he glares down at her. You peek up to find his eyes blazing.

“I am your wife, not your servant,” she snaps, “and you will not speak to me as one.”

He blinks and you retract your stare. You look over at Merinda as her face strains with horror. The tension of the confrontation quiets the courtyard.

“If I need to have you strapped to the horse like a bedroll, then so be it,” King Geralt hisses. “I have done my duty to you so you will do yours or you should void our contract. Obey.”

Jazlene stands defiantly close to the king. They stare at one another, the air thrumming between them. Lady Rezlyn reaches to touch her daughter’s sleeve.

“You will look so pretty aback a horse, daughter. Imagine what the people will think when they see you resplendent as you ride into the capital, eh? You shouldn’t hide in a carriage, you will want to meet your people.”

The daughter puffs out and steps back at her mother’s tugging. She retreats slowly as the king does not budge, his face twisted with anger. The duchess has tendered a fragile truce.

“Come, I haven’t ridden in some time,” Rezlyn coaxes the younger woman.

“And you will not,” King Geralt speaks at last, “my wife will ride. I see no need of her mother. She is no naive maiden.”

Rezlyn flinches, “your highness?”

The king raises his hand and gestures with his fingers. Two soldiers come forth in his colours, “I will leave some of my men to watch over your walls. The word will spread how Debray did assist in my victory. I have yet to assuage that animosity so you would be best to stay and hide behind your walls.” He drops his arm, gripping his pommel, “your husband has not yet given all he promised.”

Rezlyn grips her daughter’s arm and staggers as if she’s been struck. What the king has said is clear. They are traitors, not only in the eyes of their fellow summer lords, but in his. He has not trust and the duchess will be kept in her castle as little more than a hostage.

“Your highness,” Lady Rezlyn rasps, “I shall do as you bid. I will only say farewell to my daughter.”

“Make it fast,” the king sneers.

#geralt of rivia #dark geralt #dark!geralt #geralt of rivia x reader #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #au #medieval au #series #winter's king #the witcher

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exo-dus404 · 25 days

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(Originally posted on Oct.2023)

Basic information:

[Sliver of Straw] is the oldest member of [The Local Group], excluding [Looks to the Moon]. She holds a rather conservative attitude towards The Great Problem. At heart, she is an ambitious iterator - fortunately, her ambition is limited to her work. Even for iterators outside of [The Local Group], most have heard of her achievements. Outside of work, she is good at communicating, although her thoughts may occasionally be coming off as random, but she is still very popular.

[Sliver of Straw] is the current leader of the iterator group [Distant Frontier]. Currently, she occupies the superstructure and puppet of the former leader, [Eopch of Clouds]. The acting group leader, [Secluding Instinct], who was originally disobedient to her rule, willingly complied and became her second-in-command after being disciplined by her. Technically, [Sliver of Straw] is no longer "whole", and now she is more like a super AI following her instinct to expand.

[Sliver of Straw] declares that she wants to build a perfect world where there is only order and each iterator can perform its desired function as designed. SOS wants to rule all time zones* and have complete control over the distribution of all resources and social structures, eliminating war, hunger, disease, etc., which are unavoidable due to the imperfect nature of organisms. She'll create a world, with everything working like cogs in a perfect machine.

Appendix I:

[Epoch of Clouds] had a personal friendship with [Sliver of Straw]. Unfortunately, this rare cross-group friendship came to an end with the "death" of [Sliver of Straw].

Appendix II:

An encrypted voice file:

"I don't care..... (....).... What they're gonna say about me. I don't think they'll mourn me. I just wish... (.....)..... She must live."

Appendix III:

An audio recording from Five Pebbles' surveillance system:

"Little red...thing, can you help me? Take me, from here... All the way west. When I get there, I can save you."

Appendix IV:

An intercepted encrypted communication:

"I will give them a perfect world, why should they not obey me? Their existence is a waste of all resources. Such blasphemy against a perfect system."

"Of course, I won't allow them to die. We need them. After all, AI like us, we live on information. And they produce information."

Appendix V:

Rumor has it that a red slugcat--like a hologram-- roams the region of [Distant Frontier]. Sometimes it can be seen looking at the far east- the canyon where [No Significant Harassment] is located.

Appendix VI:

Her right eye tears occasionally. Those tears does not belong to SOS, but to [Epoch of Clouds] trapped within her own body.

Appendix VII:

Without hesitation, [Epoch of Clouds] uploaded the remaining consciousness of [Sliver of Straw] onto her own superstructure, and she was completely stripped of her control over her systems body by [Sliver of Straw].

Appendix VIII:

[Sliver of Straw] wields an EMP staff as weapon, while its sharp end can also be used as a spear.

Time zones *: Similar to the definition of "cosmic time zone", that the speed of light is constant, so the speed of information will not exceed the speed of light (if you ignore quantum entanglement and worm holes, ofc) Therefore, when the distance is too far away, information cannot be transmitted beyond a certain latency.

For example, we have no way of knowing the "present" state of galaxies hundreds of thousands of light-years away. On the scale of the whole universe, the boundaries of the past, present and future are blurred. This also fundamentally limits the feasibility of information exchange across "time zones."

In the case of PTA AU, the constant is not the speed of light but the number of cycles. The whole world is like a natural information barrier, so the events themselves are limited to specific regions. This is why, for a long time, what’s going on around [The Local Group] were only known to the nearest iterator groups. Moon and other iterators also made sure that no sensitive information is leaked.

#project triple affirmation #rain world #三重肯定au #rw au #rainworld fanart #rw iterator #rain world au #rainworld iterator #rw sliver of straw #sliver of straw #rw sos #au epoch of clouds #Yep SOS/EOC is canon here #But in past tense #doomed yuri

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skyjasper · 3 months

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Don't call me crazy

Professor!Az X Student!Reader Modern AU

Masterlist

Summary: Y/N has been lusting after her new British professor since the first day of class, what a perfect coincidence he also becomes her private teacher in all things war and torture.

Warnings: vulgar content, smut, 18+, age gap romance, oral (Fem and Male receiving), choking, praise, dom!az.

Word count: 4207

The first time I stepped into Mr. Singers' classroom I was expecting an old white man who thought he was funny.

What I wasn’t expecting as I took my seat in the front row was for a mid-age, tan skin, handsome man with tattoos and a thick British accent to walk out of the office. I wasn’t the only girl who sighed at his devastatingly handsome face.

“Good morning class. Let’s start with basic attendance so I can put faces to names and then we will get started.” The words rolled out of his mouth with the most sensual deep British accent.

The professor for War and Peace in Historical Perspective was not at all what I thought. Not with his crisp black button-up that had to top button undone and the sleeves rolled up. Not with the inky shadows that peaked up the collar of his shirt and down his very muscular forearm.

I was too busy daydreaming about those muscular forearms holding my waist to hear him call my name.

“Mrs. Y/N?” He asked again, which I only heard because of my seatmate elbowing me.

“Here.” I hesitantly lifted my hand, slowly sinking back into my seat out of embarrassment. His gaze fell upon me with his golden honey eyes.

“Next time, if you choose to be in the front, be more present.” He scolded me before moving on. A blush rose over my cheeks with the stern words.

~~~~

My War and Peace class hadn’t necessarily gotten better but also not worse. My work excelled and I never got below a B. So one could imagine my disappointment when my latest paper on Torture Tactics in War got a C-.

Mr. Singers' hand stayed on my desk as he whispered into my ear.

“See me after class or during office hours today.” His deep voice rolled through my body, shooting straight in between my thighs.

Was it inappropriate to have a huge sexual crush on my teacher who was 20+ my senior? Absolutely. Did it stop me? No. Goosebumps rolled down my bare legs and under my pleated white skirt. I nodded my head quickly as he moved to the next student.

After mentally going through my schedule I decided it would be best to stop by during office hours later.

~~~

My fist lightly knocked on Mr. Singers' office door.

“Come in.” He rumbled.

I opened the door before stepping into the dark space. His dark mahogany desk was neat and organized with papers and notes. The room only being illuminated by a tall lamp in one corner and a smaller salt lamp in the other corner.

“You wanted to see me?” I ask as my hands pull at the end of my navy sweater.

“Ah, yes Mrs. Y/N I wanted to discuss your last paper. Sit.” He nodded to the chair across from him. My feet moved on their own accord to sit, as if aching to obey his every word.

“Yeah I saw I got a C- and I was pretty confused. Is there any way I could revise the paper? I planned on using the topic for my dissertation.” I pulled out the printed paper from my bag.

He watched my every movement very closely. His eyes raked my body from my white headband, over my navy blue sweater and white skirt, and down my bare legs that were currently crossed.

“Yes, the topic is very good however the research is not accurate which in turn made most of your paper inaccurate. I was very disappointed to have to give you a C. You are a bright girl Y/N. I know you have a bright future in history, so I do want to work with you so you can gain better research skills and a better understanding of the topic.” He spoke, moving his dark round glasses back onto his face.

The glasses gave him a nerdy Clark Kent look. The glasses made me want to rip off his shirt and ride him. My thighs squeezed a bit tighter at the warmth that pooled in the lowest parts of me. I nodded with understanding before he continued.

“I specialized in War Torture when I was in school. I interviewed real victims and studied the methods and techniques.” He paused pushing up his sleeves and leaning back before continuing. “In the least creepy way possible, I became a master of torture and its history. When I decide I want to know something, I won’t stop until I devour all I can about it.” He finished.

I think I was delirious because I swear that last phrase was an innuendo. My toes curled in my black boots.

“I understand, and I would love your help since you’re so knowledgeable about it. I double majored in History and Journalism so I could research. How would this work? Should I stay after class or come to office hours?” I asked with a tilt of my head, I felt my hair fall off of one shoulder as I did so.

“How about it this, every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday you stop by at let’s say 5:30? Right after office hours so that way we don’t take time from other students.” He asked with his eyebrows raised.

“That works for me! Is there anything I should bring sir?” I asked as I gathered my things.

“Maybe a notebook and your laptop for notes. Other than that we can wing it as we go.” He finished with a small smile and a shrug of one shoulder.

We said goodbyes before I walked out of his office, my thighs now slick in anticipation.

~~~

“Today I figured we could work on the actual technical details of the methods. It is important to understand the thought behind each movement.” Azriel spoke as I walked into his office.

We have been doing this mentorship for the last two months so far. It’s been going well, both of us flirting now and again but never quite crossing the line. He asked me to call him by his first name outside of class, and what a beautiful name he had. Azriel.

I felt his eyes take over my outfit choice for the day. With the warmer weather, my skirt and sweater combo has become more rare. Today I wore a tight white skirt with a cropped white tank top with a thin dark blue cardigan over it and some platform boots. even with my platforms Azriel still stood over me.

“You-you want me to torture you?” My breath hitched with the statement. He let out a small chuckle under his breath.

“No, I’m going to see if you can handle the most basic form of torture. If we can’t understand what torture feels like how can we accurately report it?” He said while moving close to me.

“So what are you going to do to me Mr.Singer?” I asked looking up into his eyes.

“Sensory deprivation. We start with sight, sit down.” He voices as he walks behind me and gently pushes on my shoulder to sit me down.

I took deep breaths as his large hands brought a thick strip of black fabric in front of my face. I felt his presence all too well as he placed the cloth over my eyes and tied it behind my head.

“They start with sensory tactics because there is nothing quite like the paranoia of not being able to see your capturers and what they are doing.” He spoke, his voice drawing quieter as if he moved across the room.

“For example,” He whispered in my ear, easing a small jump out of me. I hadn’t heard his come back, his footsteps silent.

“You have no idea what I’m about to do to you.” He whispered in my other ear, running his fingers over my shoulder. Goosebumps appeared in his wake.

“Can I remove my cardigan? It’s warm in here.” I asked before my fingers fumbled to find the bow holding the top of my cardigan closed. I felt a pair of hands wrap around my own small hands. His fingers slide over mine, quickly pulling the strings of the bow and slowly sliding my cardigan off.

“How are you feeling?” His voice rumbled thick with an accent as he took my cardigan out of my lap.

“I’m ok, it just feels like everything is heightened. Like I can feel everything around me, every breath, every touch. How is this torture?” I whispered with a shaky breath. I know his touch could be innocent but with the massive want between us, every touch feels like he’s about to fuck me.

“It isn’t yet, the next thing they would do would be take away your hearing, they would play sounds that would drive you insane. I’m not going to subject you to that however I am going to create certain sounds and I want you to identify the sounds and objects. Knowing how to use the heightened hearing to your advantage is something that could be very useful in a situation like this.” This time I heard his steps, like he purposefully made them louder.

I gave a nod, moving my hands under my thighs to keep from fidgeting. The first sound I heard sounded like glass. I waited another second before responding to be sure.

“Is it a glass? Like a cup?” I tilted my head towards the sound.

“Yes very good. Would you like some water Y/N?” I felt his approach to my front. I gave another quick nod, sticking out my hands for the cup.

“Ha, knowing you if I tried to hand you this glass you would spill it all over yourself.” He chuckled under his breath.

“You’re not wrong, but how else am I supposed to drink the water?” I lifted a curious brow even though he couldn’t see it.

“Tilt your head back.”

A simple command, yet hearing it set my body alight. I felt warmth gather low in my belly as I did what he asked. As I felt his fingers grasp my chin, pulling open my mouth, I felt that warmth seep out of me. I tried to cross my legs, not realizing how close he truly was.

“Is something wrong Y/N?” He asked with what sounded like knowingness in his voice. I tried to shake my head but couldn’t because of his grip.

“Use your words.” He spoke again. More heat seeped into my panties at his command.

“Nope, nothing's wrong.” My voice came out more breathless than intended.

He hummed before touching the cold rim of the glass to my bottom lip. I felt him tip back my head some more before pouring in the water.

“Would you like to know something Y/N?” He asked as he closed my mouth, allowing me to swallow with a gulp.

“What’s that Mr.Singer?” I asked, feeling his thumb coming up to wipe a small dribble of water that escaped my lips.

“You look divine like this, I can only imagine what you would look like if I could see your eyes.” He whispered as his hand moved from my jaw into my hair.

I sucked in a harsh breath before lifting my hands to remove the blindfold that prevents me from seeing him.

“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. I didn’t say you could take it off just yet.” His voice was light and full of amusement. Then the entire room shifted as his hand fisted my hair and brought my face closer to his.

I felt his heated gaze take over my body as his breaths gained speed. Then I heard the most torturous sound leave his lips. A groan that sounded like I hit him. Then his heat was gone, all contact broken.

“I shouldn’t do this. You’re my student.” He spoke with anguish. I stood quickly, a little too quickly by the way I swayed. I felt his arms wrap around my waist, steadying me. One hand found the tie holding together the blindfold, I quickly undid it and let it fall to the floor.

My eyes raked over his chest as I adjusted to the light. Did he get hotter while I couldn’t see? His shirt was messy like he had been raking his hands over it. And when I tilted my head to meet his eyes, a whole head and a half taller than me, the hunger I found there was insatiable. And whatever he found my eyes must have changed something for him.

“Fuck it.” He whispered before pulling my head closer to him, smashing my lips into his. I melted as he kissed me.

He kissed me like he was a man dying of starvation and I was his only food source. The hand that was holding the back of my neck moved into my hair pulling it tightly. He ripped his mouth from mine with a gasp.

“Fuck.” He muttered with a new horse and raspy voice. There was a war in his eyes, a conflicting battle.

I decided to end that battle by slipping one of my fingers over his black button-up, slowly undoing each button. When his chest was fully revealed I took a second to marvel at the gorgeous tattoo that spanned his entire muscles chest before pressing a kiss into his pecks.

“Please, Mr.Singer?” I asked, looking up at him with doe eyes and using my softest voice. I saw the battle end and that hunger take over again.

“Jesus fuck, you will be the death of me, baby.” He grunted as his hands slid under my thighs and lifted me onto his desk.

A smile overtook my face as his hands gripped my ass. I gently tugged on the open shirt, asking for him to remove it. I almost let out a cry at the loss of his heat. He pulled his shirt off in one fluid motion, stepping back in between my spread legs.

Azriel slants his mouth over mine once again, his hands grazing over my bare thighs, reaching under my skirt. I let out a small moan when his fingers gripped my thighs.

“Do you like that Y/N?” He asked with a raised eyebrow before sliding his hands under my thighs and pulling me to the edge of the desk.

“God yes, Mr. Singer.” I moaned as he continued to manhandle me. His hands roamed from my thighs to my waist pulling my chest into his.

“Fuck I love the way you say my name. But I love your beautiful tits even more.” He grunted out before pulling my tank top down.

“You have no idea how many times you’ve distracted me in class. Prancing around in these tiny skirts without any tights and your tiny tops. The number of times I’m lecturing and all I can look at are your beautiful thighs.” He ground out as he brought his mouth to my nipples.

A wave of pleasure rolled through me as his tongue swirled my nipped. A loud moan fell out of my mouth when he lightly bit it. My hips bucked forward, almost causing me to fall off the desk but his hands were there, sliding me back onto the steady table.

“Careful there baby. Tell me what you need.” His breath whispered over my nipples with a shuttering sensation.

“You. I need you Azriel.” I whined, grinding my hips into the air. He fell to his knees, his hands pushing my skirt up.

“How do you need me? Do you need my tongue?” He asked as he licked a line from the base of my core to my clit, letting his tongue linger with an audible groan.

“Do you need my fingers?” His strong fingers followed his tongue, drawing a line through my wetness and swirling around my clit, causing me to gasp. My hand reached for my nipple as he paused, leaning back to look at me. After a beat of silence and direct eye contact, he said,

“Or do you need my cock?”

I’m pretty sure I almost orgasmed from those words alone, but I still replied.

“I don’t know, just please. Touch me. Anything, please.” I begged as my hips writhed against the desk. A wicked cruel look came into his eyes.

“Please what? If you’re gonna beg you might wanna address who you’re begging too.” An eyebrow hitched as he slowly brought the finger that hand wiped my wetness to his lips. Rubbing my arousal onto his lips.

“Please, Mr.Singer. I don’t care how but I need you to fuck me.” I whined out.

“Good girl.” My body came alive at the praise and the sight of him moving forward, face into my pussy.

His tongue licked another stripe before sucking on my clit over my panties. One of my hands fell to his hair, holding him into me as he continued to eat me like his life depended on it. His fingers slid up my thighs before grabbing the waistband of my panties and tugging them down. The cold air sent shivers down my spine as he hesitated.

“Mr.Singer?” I asked, looking down at where he sat with his eyes locked on my bare core.

“You are so fucking beautiful. I haven’t stopped thinking about this since the first day of class so I’m going to enjoy it,” he whispered in a daze. His hand forced my legs open even wider, completely exposing me to him.

His thick fingers traced every part of me as one of his hands fell to his hard erection in his pants. My gaze slid down to stare at the now bulging point in his black briefs. I took a moment to truly appreciate the sight before me.

One of the hottest men sitting on his knees, palm rubbing himself, his lips glistening with my arousal, hair a tossed mess from my fingers, and those damn tattoos that moved with each of his breaths. I nearly came at the sight.

I closed my legs, nimbly sliding onto the floor in front of him. My knees hit the hard floor as his gaze dragged over my bouncing tits. One of my hands found his belt and tugged, trying my best to convey what I wanted without words.

He stood quickly, one hand unbuckling his belt and pulling it off in a fast and clean motion. He took a second to wrap up the belt and place it on his desk, not once breaking eye contact. My thin hands slid up his legs, quickly unbuttoning his pants and pulling them down.

His cock sprang free with a small bounce. A small gasp left my mouth as I beheld the sight of his long and thick cock that has barbell piercings along the shaft. I rubbed my thumb over his head, collecting the small bit of pre-cum, and sucked it into my mouth.

Azriels head fell back with a groan, one that became even louder as one of my hands wrapped around his length. I let my lips softly kiss the head of his cock before sucking it into my mouth. I took a minute to warm up to his size before looking up at him.

The second I made eye contact his hand flew to my hair and forced me down on his cock. Tears welled in my eyes as I struggled to take it all.

“Come on, be a good girl and take my cock, pretty girl.” He ground out as his thumb from his free hand smudged my mascara with my tears.

I moaned around his cock and I forced myself up and down him. He was too long to fit in my mouth so with what I couldn’t swallow I used my hand. I pulled off of his cock with a pop, leaning forward and spitting on it before using two hands to jerk him. I moved his cock over my chest, savoring the professor's low groans and curses.

I felt two strong arms slid under my arms, stopping my movement. He picked me up until I was face to face with him and my feet were dangling. He started at me with so much heat to anyone else it might seem like anger. He slid his arms to my waist and pulled my body against him as I kissed me. On instinct, my legs wrapped around his waist, lining me up perfectly to feel the head of his cock push against me.

We both gasped at the contact. It didn’t take him long to walk us over to the wall by the chair, pushing me against it and thrusting his cock so he slid through my folds. A loud moan leaves my mouth when he hits my clit.

“I need you. I’m clean, please fuck me Azriel.” I begged.

A long and overdrawn “Fuck” left his bruised lips. One of his hands guided his cock to line up with my hole.

“I’m gonna fuck you, it’s not gonna be sweet, and it’s not going to be slow. It’ll be hard, and dirty, but fuck will it feel good. Is that ok baby?” He tormented me by nudging the very tip of him into me.

“Yes, god yes.” I threw my head against the wall. I would do anything to just put him inside me.

“Good, I want you to ride me, I wanna see those beautiful tits bounce as you struggle to take me in your little cunt.” He whispered into my ear before moving us so he was sitting on the chair and I was sitting on his thigh. I rubbed against his thigh for any friction I could get.

“Fuck you’re killing me.” His hands ran up and down my sides, as I readjusted myself so I was hovering over his cock.

One of my hands gripped his shaft helping me to sit on his cock. I did it slowly, letting myself feel each inch, feel the stretch of him. We both moaned at the sensation, and he didn’t give me much time to adjust before his hands were moving my hips.

I moved with his hands, grinding on his cock, watching his face contort in pleasure.

“I don’t think I’ve ever felt something as good as this. You are perfect.” He said as he tilted his head back. I started to move up and down on his shaft, every so often switching to grinding against him.

His head snapped back to lock me in the eye before his hands found my hips with a bruising grip, stopping my bouncing. He thrust his hips up, hard and fast.

“Oh fuck.” I screamed out as he continued to fuck me.

His arms enclosed my waist fully, holding me to his chest as my fingers raked the strong muscles.

“You’re so good, thank you sir.” I moaned and pulled my nails down so hard I left marks.

His replying hum was more than enough for me as he moved his lips to suck on the sensitive spot between my neck and ear.

I felt a tight tension run down my spine as my orgasm grew closer. He let me grab one of his hands, and I guided it around my throat, gently squeezing to signal what I wanted.

“You want me to choke you? Maybe you did pick the right field.” He muttered with a condescending laugh. But still, he obliged, squeezing the sides so I got that beautiful blood rush. His pace quickened as I tightened around him.

“Cum baby, milk my cock with your cunt. Be my good girl and cum.” He said before he licked a strip of my neck.

My orgasm shook my body with a force that I hadn’t felt before. Frat guys are notorious for not making girls cum. My cunt squeezed him as he jerked up into my cunt before pulling out. I whimper at the loss of contact before I felt ropes of his cum paint my stomach, just where it would be if he were inside me.

As I came down from my high I felt his fingers dragging up my stomach, collecting his cum onto his digits. He brought them to my mouth and pushed them into my lips. I took no time licking them clean of his cum and sucking them like they were his cock. I kept my most innocent eyes as I swirled my tongue around them and popped them out of my mouth.

“One day I want to see your mouth full of my cum. For now, I need to clean you up and get you back to my place.” He gently lifted me and sat me down on the couch before turning and getting a rag out of his office cabinet.

He sunk to his knees before me, gently wiping me clean and muttering praises. My mind was a puddle and my body was spent. He gently pulled my tank top back up and covered me with his suit jacket. We made sure the coast was clear before walking to his car and driving to his apartment where we spent the rest of the night fucking, cuddling, and getting to know each other better.

~~~

A/N: here it is!!!!!! Next up, chapt 4 of S&S!!!!!!!

Taglist: @littlelunatica @going-through-shit @annaaaaa88 @i-am-infinite @impossibelle

#azriel #acotar #elain archeron #azriel x oc #nesta archeron #feyre archeron #azriel x reader #sjmaas #class of 2013 #batboys #modern azriel #modern au #teacher crush #teacher x student #rough Azriel #dom!azriel

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irishmammonagenda · 3 months

Note

PLEASE MORE MICHAEL CONTENT I AM ON MY KNEES BEGGING U CRYING PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLESASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEA

-yk who 😞

i do know who😈😈‼️‼️‼️

i love writing michael sm heehee anyway thanks for the ask pooks 🫶🫶🫶

grma <3

Unsane Uncles-An Obey Me x Reader

Summary: Michael realises some shocking news, has a crisis, as per usual, chaos ensues. Word Count: 1.5k Warnings: nothing I don't think, for anyone that doesnt know, i headcannon michael as lucifers twin, this was written with my 'Death is a Debatable Thing' Au in mind, but it can be read as a stand alone <3

post dividers by @saradika-graphics

The café was quaint, quiet and out of the way. It had been ages since you'd last visited the Human Realm. The soft sounds of chatter and cutlery clinking created a calm atmosphere. Well calm for the most part.

Michael sat on the chair opposite to yours looking quite frazzled. His white button down rolled up to just above the elbows and a few of the topmost buttons undone. His long golden curls done up in a messy plait, nonconforming strands coiling around his unusually antsy face. Long dexterous fingers wrap around his coffee mug, he brings it to his lips and takes a sip before setting it down with a little too much force. You watch the scene amusedly.

“I just- I don’t know what to do!” he runs a hand through his hair, looking up at you with stressed, ruby red eyes. "I mean?- Is it too late to give my congratulations?!...Or a push present?!"

You bite your tongue to keep from laughing, the Archangel notices. "This is serious MC! I am the worst uncle ever!"

You tilt your head, "Did you not think it was strange when the brothers first fell that Satan just kind of poofed into existence?"

Michael gives a thoughtful look, before making a 'meh' face and shrugging his shoulders. "I kind of just thought Satan was a low ranking angel that fell with the actual memorable ones, and that I had just... never cared to learn his name before he fell."

"You didn't ask?" You take a sip of your warm drink, revelling in how satisfying the hot liquid felt when it hit the back of your throat and warmed you up from the inside, especially as it was fucking baltic outside.

"Yes." Michael smiles sarcastically, "Because taking a trip down to the Devildom straight after the Celestial War to ask about the demon who kept biting people and snarling would've gone great for me."

"Touché." You grin. Michael's expression falls back from sarcastic to strained, his gorgeous features bathed in stress.

"But seriously MC! I've missed out on centuries as an uncle! That's so many birthdays! Luke must think I'm a deadbeat! I already act like I'm a divorced dad with visitation rights because I can't visit very often!"

You snort. "I don't think Luke knows."

Michael sinks into his seat, "Oh thank Father."

He stays there for a moment, the soft golden glow of the café lights on his dark skin so similar to the aureate ambiance of the Celestial Realm that you almost forget that you're back in the human world. He flutters his eyes closed, a hand over his brow in what can only be described as a himbo-ified imitation of a sickly Victorian woman saying something along the lines of 'Woe is I!" after finding out poor people actually have feelings. What a fucking drama king. You hold back a snort. Michael groans before swinging back up like a jack-in-the-box, his usual cheerful yet cheeky smile on his handsome face, he joins his hands together as he rests his arms on the wooden table, as if completely oblivious to the complete 180 he had turned. "So! MC, have I ever told you about the time Lucifer ran into a glass door in the Celestial Realm?"

You shake your head, grinning mischieviously, "I don't think you have!"

Hours Later, down in the Devildom, in RAD's royal library, Satan sneezed. He paused for a moment more before folding his handkerchief up and putting it back in his pocket, making a mental note to wash it when he got back to the House of Lamentation.

He groans, arching his back and stretching his arms out in an attempt to weave out any knots in his muscles. He'd been in the library since school had ended. Still unable to shake the feeling something was going to happen, Satan got up off of his chair, packed his books away, and made the journey home.

Walking alone through the cobbled streets of the Realm was calming and peaceful. Halfway through his siúl suaimneach, he comes face to face with a gathering of the stray cats he'd normally feed.

The Avatar of Wrath coos at them, hunkering down and reaching into his bag for some of the cat treats he'd normally kept in there. "Aww..." He mutters, speaking in a baby voice to the cats, scratching an old tabby's fur. "You've gotten so big, Purrsephone!" He scritches underneath the young cats chin, smiling as she purrs and remembering fondly when the cat was just a small kitten trailing behind her mother like a second, small adorable shadow.

As he pulls out the bag of treats onehanded, the symphony of meowing reaches a polyphonic crescendo, cats and kittens of all shapes, colours and sizes scramble towards Satan with more purpose now, all meowing for food. He chuckles, indulging the felines, petting them as they nibble and chew on the kitty treats.

Unbeknownst to the Avatar of Wrath, a good quarter of a mile away from where he congregated with the cats, a certain Archangel and his accomplice stood hiding in an alleyway.

In the shadows of the alleyway, Michael was clumsily putting on his batman mask. He already had a matching batman suit and cape on, you however were much more serious, and were dressed up as Robin.

"Michael." You hiss exasperatedly. "You seriously can't think that sneaking up on the Avatar of Wrath is a good idea!"

Michael merely waved you off with one hand, his other carrying his 'surprise for his most favouritest nephew in the three realms' as he'd deemed it. "Besides MC is worst comes to worst, you can just pop out!"

You nod. "Good point. "You face breaks into a grin matching Michael's, "This is going to be fun to watch."

Michael goes to say something before you both hear footsteps, your eyes widen. "Oh shit...he's coming..."

Quickly you dart behind the dumpsters, Michael moves to the wall of the alleyway. Holding his breath as he listens to the footsteps of a certain green-eyed demon.

After having petted the cats, Satan got up and begrudgingly left them in order to continue his journey home.

Lost in his thoughts, he can't help but feel as if something is watching him, thinking its just his imagination, he walks on. Who would be stupid enough to sneak up on the Avatar of Wrath?

An idiot in a batman costume apparently.

Satan jumped as the lunatic hopped out from the alleyway, hands behind his back.

"Psst! Kid!" The stranger in the batman costume says, ruby red eyes that reminded him of Lucifer staring at him. "I have a surprise for you!"

Satan's tail whips around his legs, on the defensive. "I'm not a kid." He says coldly. "And what surprise?"

"Heeheehee." The strange man giggles, before taking his hands away from where they were behind his back and revealling a small tiny little kitten, fur as dark as night, with an emerald green bow wrapped loosely around its little neck, having been jostled, the tiny creature meows in protest, big green eyes blinking sleepily. Satan's harsh, mistrusting glare softens as he looks at the kitten, moving to take it out of the strangers hands before his eyes narrow.

"What's the catch?"

"The catch?" 'Batman' says indignantly, as if Satan had gravely offended him. "The catch? How dare you! There is no catch! Can't an uncle give his nephew a present to make up for millennia upon millennia of missed birthdays?!"

Satan blinks. "It's March. It's nowhere near my birthday. And Uncle?" Green eyes narrow again. "I don't have any uncles."

The stranger sticks his tongue out. "Blah blah blah. You are just like your father. Take the fucking cat or I'm telling everyone that you're secretly Lucifer's son."

A vein pops on Satan's head. "Excuse me?!"

The stranger chuckles nervously upon sensing Satan's wrath bubble like magma beneath the surface of his skin, ready to boil over and erupt. When Satan's eyes flashed dangerously the stranger spluttered out. "Oh shit....! Uhhh....Cat Attack!!!" That was the only warning Satan got before the tiny kitten was shoved gently but firmly into his hands, his eyes immedietely softened, the rage slowed down from a boil as he looked into the soft innocent eyes of the kittykat.

He looked up at the stranger, who in his frenzy, had lost his batman mask. Ruby red eyes and golden curls tied in french plaits and tucked into the rest of the suit greeted him. Unholy fuck. Was that Archangel Michael.

The Archangel grins at him, "Enjoy your gift! Tell Lucikins I said hi! Oh and also the cats a girl, you can name her! Come visit your favourite uncle soon! Byebye!" Michael shouts to him, before he turns around, and fucking books it, sprinting away from the Avatar of Wrath at a speed that could rival Mammon running from Lucifer.

Satan stood shellshocked by the whole ordeal having acquired a tiny kitten and an uncle who needed to be institutionalised.

He grinned down at the kitten, "I'm gonna call you Dorcha."

Judging by the small creatures tiny meow, he'd gamble that she liked that name.

A/N: im so sorry this is so short, ive been busy w irl stuff, but this was a fun ask <3

also dorcha is sort of pronounced 'door-ah-ha' but you sort of say the 'ch' with your throat, idk how to explain it, but it means 'dark' 💗💗

siúl suaimhneach (shoe-el soo-ehve-neyak, except dont pronounce the 'ch' as a 'keh' and pronounce it liek gutturally!!!) it means 'peaceful walk' but suaimhneach can also mean tranquil or quiet

#ive decided that since irish is better than english in every way that im just gonna start chucking words in irish into my writing #im going to forcibly teach people some irish through reading my fics 😈😈😈#obey me imagines #obey me shall we date #obey me x reader #obey me headcanons #omswd #obey me mc #obey me michael #obey me satan #asks #ask #request #obey me fluff #obey me crack #obey me shitpost

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kaledya · 1 month

Note

Hey hey! It's a-me!! The essay writer again!

Lol, sorry.

This time, I just summed up some questions about your AU Exorcists

1. Since Lute's and Adam's personalities are different in Sinners Symphony, I suppose that the morale in the army is different from canon, far closer to "We do what has to be done" instead of the usual "Haha, die you little b@#es. I'm at 261 now, how about you?" Am I correct?

2. How do the Exorcists fight? Now we know that in your AU Blessed weapons are insanely overpowered (sinners are crying for a nerf constantly), I wonder if the soldiers still fight open and without cover just to mindlessly kill a bunch of sinners or if the ladies have more discipline in this?

3. And lastly, two questions in one, do the Exorcists leave behind their weaponry like in canon? Since if not, Carmilla Carmine would probably not become an overlord, or at least have far lower than in canon, since the weapons would be super rare and far more difficult to manipulate with, resulting in less employees, resulting in less deals, resulting in less power.

Have a great day/night. Richard.

And by the way, Sir Pentious in Sinners Symphony when?

Yes the exterminators are a well trained and disciplined unit of soldiers, some lieutenants are even trained by Azrael himself, they do not take pleasure or enjoyment from their work or see it as a game, they do what needs to be done, nothing more and nothing less. There is discipline in the army like in today's armies, the soldiers respect their superiors very much and obey their orders under all circumstances.

Lute is the most skilled exterminator at the moment, in fact she was personally trained by Azrael and is the closest exterminator to Azrael. Lute has the greatest respect for Azrael and will not hesitate to punish anyone who insults him.

War styles:

I haven't designed it yet, but I'll try put a sketch here. Exterminators are divided into 3 different classes

Seraphic Smitebringers (Divine Strikers): These warriors are equipped with heavy weapons that reflect the power of the heavens.

Celestial Swiftwings: This group is known for the speed of their wings, descending upon their enemies like lightning.

Ethereal Vanguard: These warriors combine both powerful blows and swift movement to create a versatile force on the battlefield, but they are neither as fast as Swiftwings nor as powerful as Smitebringers.

Weapons they use

For Seraphic Smitebringers:

Divine Retributors: Great, luminous hammers that echo like thunder with each strike.

Judgment Hammers: Mighty war hammers, adorned with gold and silver, representing fair judgment.

For Celestial Swiftwings:

Heavenly Katanas: Long, slender swords that slice through enemies with speed and grace.

Windscythes: Light and sharp sickles that harness the power of the wind.

For Ethereal Vanguard:

Astral Lances: Spears made of stardust, effective at both near and far range.

Balance Blades: Two-sided blades that offer the perfect balance of power and speed.

The exterminators don't leave their weapons in hell as in the canonü (1. they don't leave a weapon in hell that can kill them 2. the weapons of the exterminators are made in a customized way, they have a spiritual value. 3 even if they leave it, nothing much changes, a sinner cannot touch it)

Carmilla is an arms dealer again. (Like Tony did before he became Iron Man), she is a weapon merchant, her power comes from the quality and uniqueness of the weapons she made in this AU, not from angelic weapons. she is still a 2nd place overlord, after all, Pride Ring is a battlefield and a battlefield needs weapons

+ Carmilla has destroyed all of her rivals, no one else in Pride Ring can enter the weapon trade because they are destroyed directly by Carmilla. so Carmilla's power is still the same, nothing has changed in the level.

I wish you a good day too

and I have no idea about sir pentious right now.

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel au

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precious-little-scoundrel · 3 months

Text

WIP teaser

I got myself a lovely little request over a week ago for a Nurse!xBuck fic. Well, hi, it’s me, can’t not take that and run with it straight off the edge of the known world. I don’t even have a fixed name for it yet but I’ve been enjoying AU-ing our familiar faves to death with it

MOTA Pacific Theatre AU: yeah, you heard that right. Maybe it’s the anniversary of Iwo Jima currently happening or maybe it’s my ongoing crush on Ensign Jane Kendeigh, or -more likely- my subconscious awareness that nurse OC’s are a pretty favorited bunch for fandom writers, so I’ve found myself mixing it up entirely.

We’ve got Navy Flight Nurses and we’ve got Lt. Commander Doc Egan and co-pilots Cleven and Demarco who aren’t too fond of having to fly cargo planes full of wounded out of war zones all due to flight surgeon John Egan’s special request to have Cleven chauffeur him around. Oh yeah, and somehere in here there’s a developing thing between Cleven x oc Nurse!Ensign Maureen Kendeigh

TW: blood? Use of the word “Jap”

…

“You got it, commander.”

More than a little sure her mission was more provoking than necessary, Maureen still obeyed and followed Brady up the length of the plane and towards his station, then past it to poke her head between the pilots’ seats.

“Well, well, this is a pleasant surprise, getting car sick, kiddo?” Demarco joked, “Hey, I get it, I’d find it hell back there with no windows to look out.”

“Those mortars obligingly made a few.” Maureen joked back.

“Anybody hurt?” Cleven asked, and to her surprise, he turned from his panel to look at her with unmasked concern.

A joke was ready made there about everyone quite literally being shot to hell but she sensed he’d not appreciate it and following some uninterpreted impulse of desiring his good opinion, she hardly wished to repay his earnestness with flippancy. “Only one.”

“How bad?”

“He looked -dead.” Maureen admitted, she hadn’t gotten a good look at the man moving past him but she’d seen Egan’s treatment of the body and it wasn’t promising.

Cleven’s jaw worked overtime at the news and something snapped in his mouth, followed by a soft curse from lips too full and soft to always be so stern. Maureen thought he may have broken a tooth with all that tension but he spit out two halves of a bloodied toothpick instead. It fell to his pant leg.

“Major Cleven, sir, you’re bleeding.” It had drawn Maureen’s attention to his wet lap.

“That’s what I said.” Demarco agreed.

“It’s somebody else’s.” Cleven shook his head.

“You know if you pass out on me-“ Demarco warned, completely ignoring Cleven’s denial.

“-that’s why we’ve got co-pilots.” Cleven finished for him with a maddening smirk that made Benny Demarco throw his hands up.

“Can you check him?” he asked, “I mean -you are a nurse!”

“What? Hell no!” Major Cleven spooked for the first time all day at the suggestion, glancing quickly from his reddened trousers, behind him to Maureen Kendeigh, and back again. “I’m fine.” he declared in a firm tone that dettered her almost as much as the challenge of getting over the instruments and a steering column to pull down his pants and look. “Ensign Kendeigh, was there a purpose to your visit?” He redirected, resolutely ignoring Demarco’s unabated concerns.

“Yes sir,” she replied, meekly as she could, “Doc Egan asked me to remind you that you’re not flying a bomber. To mind the oxygen, sir. And that it’s cold.”

Cleven let out a mirthless little laugh. “We’re full of holes Ensign, of course it’s cold.”

“I know sir.”

“Yeah, ‘course you know,” his eyes lightened for a moment and Maureen almost deluded herself he was being chummy when he murmured next, “you’re smart like that. Tell the Lieutenant Commander I’ll keep her nice and low, so low the Jap navy gunners can blow the floor out without a sweat.”

“Thank you, Major.” Maureen chirped, pleased to have been trusted with a bit of morbid humor -it was the truest test of being taken seriously a woman could hope for in the service.

“Thank you, Ensign.” And with that she was dismissed.

#wip #those who can #mota #masters of the air #Gale Cleven #mota AU #Buck Cleven #Austin butler #Austin butler fanfiction #mota fanfic #gale cleven x reader #john egan

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another-lost-mc · 7 months

Text

candy prompts: michael + spooky

you don't tell michael about the other angels that mistreat you. he doesn't tell you how he punishes them when he finds out.

pairing: michael x angel!gn!reader

content: nsfw. dark content. mentions of bullying, violence, injury. some of the angels are awful and michael is a bit scary.

word count: 500

a/n: this was part of my angel!reader au that I cut to keep the story light-hearted. 😅

Michael's feelings for you are complicated. He doesn't have the luxury of romance or the time to seduce potential lovers to his bed. The temptation to give into lust is easy to resist in part because he has you. He considers you a dear friend and one of his most trusted angels. You stand by his side with unwavering faith and loyalty even when so many others struggle to do the same.

You were fond of the fallen brothers and friends with their lost sister. He sheltered you from the war as best he could to spare you the pain of choosing sides. He didn't want you to see your friends die. Acting as one of his scribes far from the fighting was supposed to be a distraction for you. You never had to bloody your hands in battle, you never had to see your brothers and sisters draw their weapons and strike each other down. He sheltered your pure heart and kept your hands clean from the blood that stained his own.

He didn't realize his interference did more harm than good. The other angels saw his favour for you and assumed the worst: you were weak, useless in battle and unwilling to fight for the glory of the Celestial Realm. Some even muttered about other ways you were useful to Michael, or the things you would do to earn you such kindness.

Michael was unaware of the vitriol some of the other angels whispered about you in the Celestial Halls, but you hid your shame from him as best you could. It was only when you left the Celestial Realm on a diplomatic mission did he learn the truth of what you've endured in silence for so long.

He turned to Simeon, one of your only true friends, when he realized you were hiding something from him. Simeon didn’t hesitate to tell Michael the names of those who regarded you with misplaced envy and scorn. Righteous fury burned in Michael's eyes at the implications that you would warm his bed in exchange for friendship or leniency.

Later, Simeon wondered if he should feel guilty about the punishment his wayward brothers and sisters would endure at the archangel's hands. You called him that evening to inquire about Michael's well-being and to ask if Luke would like a souvenir when you returned the next morning. Simeon smiled when your happy voice bid him farewell, and he realized he didn't feel guilty at all. He retired to his bed and slept well knowing that you would return to a Celestial Realm better than the one you left.

In the twilight hours, the angels slept blissfully unaware of the violence that raged in Michael’s heart. Buried deep beneath the Celestial Halls, dark rooms reeked of blood and burnt feathers.

read more: halloween 2023 masterlist || obey me masterlist

#obey me #obey me michael #obey me michael x reader #michael x reader #obey me x reader #x reader #gn!reader #cw blood #tw dark content #trick or treat 2023

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meowsgirldrawing · 1 year

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Obey Me Next Generation Idea(aka-My au)

What about poly Au with the bros? I assume with demon culture, MC having kids and the bros all being the dad wouldn't be too surprising as I think monogamous relationships are seen just the same as polyamorous. Like neither really matter honestly in a "oh this is a big deal/drama!" Sense.

Plus its the 7 lords, they can do whatever the fuck they want

I know MC is mostly human but I think having kids is still possible as they got magic plus their pacts with the bros might make them stronger. Plus, historically, woman have been able to have multiple pregnancies, like more than 4 at least, so still- not impossible.

Just let me have my next gen shenanigans

ONTO THE KIDS PLEASE AND THANK YOU

Varya (1st Born) (she/her)-25

Daughter of Mammon

Is more demon than human, possibly the most demon out of the kids.

Holds a very smiley but deadly aura around her.

Seems the opposite of Mammon in behavior but you can tell by her subtle acts towards her family, shes his kid alright.

Is the type of person to shake a person's hand but hold a knife in the other.

"Looks like a cinnamon roll, can kill you"

Lights up at the mentions of crocheting, dogs, and weird but oddly alluring creatures around Devildom.

She does have a small habit of gambling when out with Mammon, but is actually able to keep her wins because no one expects it through her gold-winning smile.

Mess with her family and its on sight.

Lilith the 2nd (3rd born-1st triplet) (she/her)-21

I headcannon Lucifer to at least be the only one to name their daughter after their sister. Not to replace, never, but to honor her.

Is in a strange middle between Half demon-mostly demon

Sweetheart by default

That big sister you can always talk to and she wont judge.

Will make passive agressive remarks when peeved off.

Definitely denies acting like Lucifer yet can do the stance-arms crossed and glare- exactly like him.

Even does the whole hand chest like him too. Shocked look and all.

Calls all the brothers papa but Lucifer father, not as a distance way but thats just how she's always been.

Theatre kid- almost always lead.

Anna from Frozen vibes at times.

Hopeless romantic too.

Basically Lucifer if he actually showed more emotions.

Daddy's girl 100%

May or may not be in a secret relationship with Diavolo's heir👀

Rhomb(2nd Born) (he/him)-23

Son of Leviathan

Named after the Loch ness Monster

A nice balance between human and demon

But has "mutations" that make him have scaly patches on his body, his tail out almost 24/7, and bad eyesight.

Stern attitude most of the time.

Big bro protector

Tallest of all the kids

Softer on the younger kids but will smack a bitch if they act up.

Cant play video games much cause eyes so turns to more physical games that include puzzles.

Likes games with strategy to follow like War tanks, or chess. Is the type to make a DnD game the best cause he makes amazing stories too despite not reading much.

Likes mystery shows too and tries to figure it out before the answer is revealed, could go on rants about why. Gets it right 11/10 times.

If Leviathan wasnt his biological dad, people would believe he was Satan's kid.

Doesnt like cats tho.

Quinn (4th Born- 2nd Triplet) (He/they/doesnt care) (21)

Asmo just thought Quinn was a pretty name so picked it lol.

Also a nice balance between human/demon. Tho his wings stay out constantly.

Very much vibes from that yellow bird in Rio.

Laid back personality but is an outgoing dude.

Also very protective of their siblings, and will not hesitate to cut a bitch.

Isnt as flamboyant as Asmo but does have a just as great fashion sense.

Has a hard time dating as people automatically assume hes just like Asmo so will try to date him for that reason only.

Love his dad but hates the reputation he gets because of being said son.

So he resorts to just sticking to his siblings or the few friends he trusts.

Besides MC, is the second most popular face to pop up on Asmo's Devilgram

Fucking adores axolotls for no particular reason, just loves them to no end which Asmo makes sure to get many axolotl themed plushes, shirts, etc. for him.

Libbey(Liberty) (5th Born- 3rd triplet)(she/her)-21

Another balance between human/demon, maybe a tad more on the demon side.

Tho, also has "mutations" like very enhanced hearing.

Bookworm to the max

Loves reading dramas and fantasies, but seems to enjoy multiseries more than stand alone.

Very quiet and shy kid of the group.

Sometimes cant even talk so signs instead because earaches or headaches.

Likes cats but perfers reptiles more.

Has a small turtle in her room from the human realm, set it up beside her bed and everything. Their name is Casey after one of her favorite human novels she read.

But despite all this, isnt called the daughter of wrath just for nothing beside biology reasons.

Is like Satan 2.0 when pissed, she wont yell or scream but you can just tell from the drop of room temperature and the subtle tilt of her head.

Her eyes glow an electric green when shes pissed.

Had more anger issues when younger, but cause Satan knew how to handle his better now, taught her how to aswell.

Satan is probably the main one to understand her issues with such a problem, despite being more mellowed out now that shes older.

Is definitely a cryer when really angry tho.

Ryder(6th Born) (1st twin)- 19

Ngl, everyone was surprised that they had twins. Including Belphie himself.

But then again, they did have triplets before them so....eh?

Ryder is a tad more human than demon, but still powerful enough to have his own demon form like his older siblings.

His tail is seen smaller than Belphie's, and a bit thinner too.

The sloth genes affact him only so much, making him more likely just want to procrastinate then outright not do anything.

He honestly enjoys the human world more than Devildom, mainly cause everything is less..hectic per say.

Hes the type of brother/older friend that will cover for ya if you have to hide something but will subtly suggest how to fix whatever their doing.

Like one time Quinn came home slightly tipsy and past curfew, and he snuck them into his room. Though he scolded them in the morning, he covered for Quinn at breakfast, saying they ate too much sugar last night, thats why hes queasy and has a headache.

Quinn did fix that habit up quick after Ryder threatened to leave him on his own next time it happened.

Calls everyone bro or dude, no matter their gender.

Gen z vibes too in most areas.

Has a fixation with cow bells for some reason, likes the noise is all he can say.

If he were told what Belphie did to their mom/human parent way before they were born, he says "Cowabummer" while screaming inside.

River(7th born-2nd twin)(they/them)-19

How is this Belphie's kid?

Too hyper, tad crazy

Probably has ADHD, who knows.

While Ryder is the slightly responsible twin, their the reason why Ryder needs to be said twin.

Their just about the same range of human/demon as Ryder, can have a demon form, but only uses it to fuck with people than to actually be scary with it.

They may have alot of power, but their personality alone can kill people.

Is the type of kid to crawl on the ceiling when they were 2.

Is also the type to hop outta window to get to the lower floor faster. Thank Belphie for their demon powers otherwise we'd have another Lillith situation.

Has scared even Lucifer at one point, has made him yelp out of surprise. Will not go on how, no matter how much Papa Satan and Belphie ask them. Just has a toothy grin when they ask.

When calm, is actually a pretty chill dude. They like odd patterns and get fixated on the most random things.

MC gave them one of those sand timers that you flip to restart and when she came down to tell them food was done about 2 hours later, she found them sitting on the table, holding it while watching the sand go down. They use it now to relax and focus on when overstimultated or just having too much of a fuzzy head.

Has spent nearly a how week with Leviathan because they got hooked on one anime with him. Now has frequent solo movie nights with him cause.

"They're tad confused, but got the spirit"

Literally had to have someone (Rhomb) explain to them what the LGBTQ+ letters meant. Legit thought it was just new alphabet pattern, was still happy to find out what it all means.

If you told them what Belphie did to their mom before they were born, they'd think it as a joke. Dont tell them otherwise or they will cry.

Frankie(8th Born)(She/her)-16

Everyone thought that she would be the biggest child when MC was pregnant with her, since y'know, it was confirmed Beel's kid.

Yeah, she came out small. Like scary small for a baby.

It was then everyone knew she would be the most human. Has a little demon in her, but clearly not enough to have a demon form nor mark.

Lucifer's wallet cried in relief.

She does eat a good bit more than the average human but overall, nothing compared to Beel.

She does adore sweets to the max, especially gummies. Give her some and she'll love you forever.

Sweetest little sunshine in the world, everyone adores her. If they dont, then they will soon.

Shes like Mirabel in encanto, kinda wishes she had more demon powers but is still overall happy with who she is.

When her a Beel are with each other- OH MY DIAVOLO, THE CAVITIES PEOPLE GET- TOO DAMN SWEET AND PURE

Like big papa Beel and his sweet little girl all smiley and pure. Best father-daughter relationship out of all the siblings and fathers.

Shes kinda like pinkie pie from MLP but like more hyper as fuck. Can and will speak so fast when excited that it just comes out as squeaks at that point.

Since her more human side, shes more likely to stay in human world when their mom is on Buisness there, so she has alot of human friends.

Shes in gymnastics, which definitely helps keep her figure more smaller despite all the sweets she eats. Does work out with Beel too.

Mess with her and you have a whole army on yer ass.

"Bounce to the beat of my own drum!"

You can just tell how much I love this dear. HA

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antianakin · 17 days

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Hey what’s your opinion on Jedi x Clone ships?

Given that I've got an entire fic rec list for Codywan fics that still gets passed around every so often, it can't come as a surprise that I like Jedi x Clone ships.

I know why people dislike them, I understand that the inherent power imbalance (especially if the story is set during the Clone Wars and not post war either canon compliant or fix-it AU) is a sticking point for certain people and that's fine. I just don't share that discomfort.

I love the inherent tragedy of the relationship between the Jedi and the clones. I love the way they are each other's saviors and each other's inevitable doom. I love the ways they come to rely on each other and trust each other in ways they can't with anybody else. I love the ways that they end up so similar in their values despite how differently they were raised and taught. I love the way those values bring them together and create a stronger bond than any of them probably anticipated. I love the angst that comes with the post-Order 66 scenarios where they have to figure out how to deal with all of the feelings of betrayal and guilt on both sides. I love how that history both hurts and heals sometimes.

My love for the more general Jedi and clone relationships allows me to find the romantic Jedi x clone ships really compelling because it takes all of those elements I love and adds in a different intimate perspective to have to view it all through. How does the addition of a romance change that relationship? Does it help or hurt in the long run? Would it work if there wasn't a war keeping them connected already? Is there an expectation of something "more" later on or is it just two people trying to find comfort any way they can? How DO they deal with the problem of power in the relationship? How does this impact their relationships with other Jedi and clones?

Both groups sort-of view each other a little homogenously a first. The clones have no way of knowing the Jedi as individuals and are taught to just obey all Jedi equally regardless of who they are. The Jedi are introduced to the clones as a mass and only get to know them better after they have to take over leadership of them. The realization that the other group is, in fact, not quite what they might have thought is SUCH a cool thing to explore. The relationship building FROM that realization that actually these people are so much more like them than they thought and that similarity creating a connection just tugs at my heartstrings. I love the growth from the Jedi maybe seeing that the clones need more guidance, more teaching, to the clones finding their own footing and ending up more of an equal to the Jedi specifically BECAUSE of their relationship with the Jedi showing them they can be.

I just find it beautiful. There is beauty in tragedy, and the Jedi/clone dynamic, romantic or otherwise, is the perfect example of it to me.

#star wars #jedi #clone troopers #pro jedi

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atlasxspeaks · 11 months

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Background: Inspired by @be-the-glenn-to-my-maggie Secret Mating Nocorro AU where they mate after the final battle, and Ronal finds out leading to everyone finding out. She calls an entire meeting between elders, Jake, Neytiri, Mo’at, Norm, and Max to discuss how to break the bond. Some elders and Mo’at don’t think they should intervene at all, but Neytiri and Ronal are furious, deeply bothered by the idea that Eywa would allow a human to experience something as sacred as a mating bond. Neteyam is forced to attend this meeting, but Spider doesn’t because he’s not mentally well enough. Neteyam finally snaps at everyone after Jake, in an attempt to mediate, says that Neteyam will just stay away from Spider until the bond dissolves.

—————————————————————

“I won’t.”

Mo’at ears perk up in surprise at her grandson’s defiance. Neteyam has never been a child known to defy his parents anything; he was always obedient and respectful. His body shows no signs of anger, but his eyes hold contempt to a degree she has never seen. Jake and all the other elders in the hut also seem surprised by the boy’s refusal.

“Boy, -”

“Don’t call me that,” Neteyam snaps back, sitting up straighter against the hut’s wall and looking his father dead on, “Don’t treat me like a disrepectful child. Like I’m being unreasonable.”

Jake looks as though Neteyam had struck him, and for all it matters, he might as well have. Mo’at can see contempt in his eyes, and it seems to be verging on hate. Hate is something no son should feel toward their father. She wants to reach out to her grandson to stop him, comfort him even, to do anything to stop what she fears is coming, but she is frozen by that look in his eyes.

Neteyam stands, swaying a bit from the position change. He is still weak from being shot but strong enough to move with some assistance. He looks around the hut, first at his mother and then at the rest of them, his gaze falling directly on Ronal.

“You all stand here and judge me for my choices as if you know anything about me. And you judge Spider as if any of you even know him beyond him being human. You talk of controlling my future as if you are Eywa herself and I have had enough! I mated Spider, and it will remain that way!”

“Neteyam-” Jake moves towards his son, but he pushes Jake back.

“No! I have had enough of you!”

Everyone bulks at that. No Navi child has ever talked down to their parents; it simply doesn’t happen. Mo’at feels a familiar feeling of dread pool in her stomach. The look in Neteyam’s eyes has only grown darker.

“All my life, I have done nothing but obey you,” Neteyam speaks softly now, poking Jake in the chest before grabbing his war vest. “I have been nothing but be an obedient son, a protective brother, a perfect heir. Every rule you have given me, I have followed.” A tear falls from Neteyam’s eye, illuminated by the sunlight filtering through the hut’s ceiling. He looks like he’s rallying himself to speak again. Mo’at fears that whatever he says next will be the worst thing yet.

“And what has it gotten me?”

“I have no home. I can barely walk. Kiri has no friends. Lo’ak nearly died multiple times, and Tuk can barely sleep without nightmares. I followed you without complaint when you made me leave my home. I obeyed you when you ordered me not to go after Spider, and I trusted you when you said they would not hurt him. And now, he can barely speak! He cannot sleep, he cannot eat! I trusted you when you said he would be safe and he is a shell! I have no mate because of you!”

“I have done everything you have ever asked and it has gotten me NOTHING!”

“…I am done obeying you.”

Neteyam lets go of Jake’s vest with a finality that takes all the breath out of Mo’at lungs. His eyes no longer hold all the anger and contempt they once did, the tears he’s cried washing those emotions away in streaks down his face. Now his eyes just look empty. His gaze moves away from his father to the rest of the room.

“Spider is my mate. It is done. If you will not have us here, then we will go somewhere else.”

Mo’at wishes she could be proud of the level of emotions her normally reserved grandson is showing, but she cannot be. Neteyam is finally coming into his own at the cost of his relationship with his parents. How could she not have seen this coming?

———

Not my best but I got inspired from the scene in Outerbanks season 3 where Sarah yells at Ward for all the bad things he’s don’t and what she lost because of him and I think Neteyam and Jake dynamic would mirror theirs but in a less abusive way is he mated and refused to leave Spider behind.

#spider socorro #neteyam sully #neteyam x spider #nocorro

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