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serasfanfiction · 1 month

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CW for Alastor being Alastor, but that's to be expected. This chapter is all from his POV.

Alastor was having what he might call an exceptionally good day, if he did say so himself.

His mobility was almost back to normal, that pesky little parting gift Adam had left him having practically healed itself overnight. Why, he'd even been able to remove the stitches!

He had seen some improvement over the last month, agonizingly slow as it had been. Consuming the flesh and souls of other sinners had certainly sped things up a bit, but only finitely. He had resigned himself to the fact that healing would be a slow process, especially after the first time he pushed too hard and undid all the work he'd done up until that point. It had grated on him, but he could be patient.

If there was anything he was good at, it was being patient and bidding his time.

Getting a taste of angel's blood, though? Not just a taste, but a real go at it? Oh, now that had changed everything.

He hadn't had a chance at the holy feast following the last Extermination. He'd been too busy licking his wounds and trying not to bleed out. By the time he'd been able to pull himself together, figuratively and literally, the bodies were long gone. There had been claims about the rejuvenating effects some had experienced following eating of the flesh and drinking of the blood, but as it hadn't been a process they could readily replicate, it had done him little good.

Then none other than Lucifer Morningstar had offered himself up, willingly placing himself on the menu.

When the little king had done that little trick, the thought had crossed Alastor's mind. He was only human (deceased though he may be) and this was the father of temptation himself. Granted, it was likely Lucifer was used to being sexually desired, but hunger of a carnal nature had never been one of Alastor's sins. His hunger for the flesh had stopped at the actual eating of the flesh.

And Alastor craved nothing more than he craved the flesh of others like him.

He appreciated the irony of the whole deer situation. Karma being a bitch, and all that. His death in a hunting accident, of all things. Him, a predator in life, being reduced to a prey animal in the next. The Wendigo that lay beneath the surface, a very real manifestation of his hunger now a permanent part of his being. In life, he had hungered for the flesh of humans. In death, while he could still enjoy the odd sinner here and there, it was akin to 'empty calories,' he believed they were called. They curbed his hunger, for a little while, but it never quite seemed to hit the spot.

No, nothing quite filled him up the way venison did.

Before the creation of his bayou, he'd had to rely on the odd deer demon that appeared on the rare occasion. He was hardly the only one, but there never seemed to be enough of them. Butcher shops occasionally helped, but it never seemed enough. He'd been near ravenous towards the end there.

It had played a part in him making his deal. He'd wanted power, make no mistake, but he'd also wanted some control back over this gnawing pit in his very being. The ability to bend reality in small patches, to create the bayou (to reclaim a hint of home), had been such a welcome turn of events he'd almost felt what he gave up in exchange was worth it.

So he couldn't help but wonder, while Lucifer flashed those ears at him and called the very features that had nearly undone him 'cute,' how deep did the transformation go? Could a mimic sate his hunger as good as the real thing? The possibility that the seraphim blood might have rejuvenate powers didn't hurt, either

It would have been everything he needed, served to him in a little red and white package.

It had been pipe dream, he'd thought at the time. Nothing to seriously entertain. Despite appearances to the contrary, he did know he had limits. Adam had just been an oversight. His growth in power had never truly been tested and well.

Lesson learned. He wasn't keen to try his luck just yet, especially not injured and his microphone broken, limiting his power.

But then Lucifer had done something so left field, Alastor still wasn't entirely certain he hadn't imagined it: a trade of his blood for some good behavior. In deer form, no less! The opportunity had been so good he'd had to hold onto his eagerness by the skin of his teeth.

Everything about the experience had not been a disappointment. Not only had he'd gotten quite a bit of entertainment out of the exchange, but it turned out the stories had been true. Within a few short hours of consuming Lucifer's blood, the wound indeed showed marked improvement.

The real treat, however, was that the hunger had indeed fallen silent. Oh, it had returned in due time, but how long it had stayed away! His appetite had only just been seriously returning when the first attack on the hotel happened, providing him with quite the meal and even a handful of angel's blood. He'd felt positively spoiled.

Getting to see the little seraphim in his full demonic glory had been interesting, as well. He'd known Lucifer had wiped the floor with Adam, despite Niffty being the one to kill him, but it was always different seeing it.

This was Hell's King. This was the entity the stories had talked about. All that power, right there on display, and all Alastor had wanted in that moment was to have this being underneath him again. Wanted to see how far he could push. To see how much Lucifer would let him take.

(Alastor wasn't certain what had possessed him to reach for Lucifer in that moment. Wasn't certain what he would have done had the little king decided to take him up on his offer. Had he simply wanted to hold that power in his hands? To burn himself on it?)

And oh, how his patience had paid off.

Such a huge gain and all it had cost Alastor was a night of his company and some information. Information Lucifer really should have already known, at that.

Now, Alastor was full and so very near hale and hearty again. Why, he was close to being able to tackling fixing his microphone soon!

Perhaps if he could have another feeding in the future...

Ah, but it wouldn't do to get used to this. Three times was already far more than he could have ever imagined, plus it never paid to put his wellbeing in the hands of others. They were so often unreliable. There were only two people in Heaven or Hell that he trusted, and neither of them resided in the hotel.

So, Alastor put the idea aside and went about his day as normal. If he had an extra skip to his walk, and his smile a touch more sanguine that normal, to the point he was receiving some nervous side glances, well, all the more entertainment for him.

He was feeling so well, in fact, he felt up to taking a little jaunt to visit one of his favorite people.

Cannibal Town was as lively as ever, despite their numbers had seen some reduction during Heaven's assault on the hotel. Rosie's Emporium, always the main attraction, was not lacking for people lined up to see their Overlord. The line was already starting to snake out the door.

Alastor strolled in, not minding the line in the slightest. Rosie always made time for him.

Sure enough, the woman in question looked up at the sound of the door opening, her ever-present smile widening in delight on seeing him. She never paused in whatever affair she was discussing with her current client, but she did make an effort to finish it up a touch bit faster.

He stood off to the side politely, waiting to see if now was a bad time or not. He wasn't bringing her anything other than his company and this was an impromptu visit.

"Alastor!" She greeted, loud and affectionate. "A visit twice in one month! You certainly know how to spoil a girl."

Alastor felt that little black thing that served as his heart warm with the genuine sincerity being shown his way. He matched her smile with an honest one himself. "Only those who deserve it, my dear, and you always do."

Rosie placed a hand to her cheek, bemused. "Oh, you." She waved over to one of the tables. "Now tell little ol' me what brings you here. You haven't gotten yourself into any more trouble, have you?"

He could hear a hint of concern in her voice and resolved to bring her a gift the next time he came over. "Oh, you know me. I'm always up for something exciting." He let her maneuver him into a chair set up at a table for two. "In this case, I was up for a walk and thought I'd indulge in your company, if you'll have me."

The Victorian Overlord's body language eased ever so slightly, adding to the suspicion she might have been worried. "Always, dear." She pressed a seemingly delicate finger to her lips. "Give me 30 minutes to clear this lot out and I'm all yours!"

He nodded, and she gave him a light pat on the shoulder as she went back to her work, pausing only briefly to have one of her workers send over a pot of tea. He spent the next half hour sipping on the latest delightful blend she was offering, watching the cannibals coming and going. Most were asking for the same thing they always did: someone wanting someone else to disappear, usually in a body bag they would of course hand over to Rosie.

After what he was sure was thirty minutes and no more (not that he would have honestly timed her, why, that would have been discourteous), his fellow Overlord was escorting the last of her clients out the door. Business completed, she turned on her guest. "Now that all of that work stuff is out of the way," Rosie said as she came to sit in the chair across from the redhead, "Come now, tell me all the gossip! Surely something juicy happened with how lively you're looking today."

Alastor supposed he shouldn't be surprised that she had seen through his mask the last time he'd been here. He'd needed to get away from hotel, just for a bit, as the strain of hiding his wound was wearing on him. None of his usual acquaintances had suspected a thing, and he had wanted to keep it that way.

But Rosie was hardly an 'acquaintance.'

He supposed since she knew already, it wouldn't hurt to assure her the worst was past. He also supposed he had a gift for her after all. Lowering the cup to the saucer on the table, he assured, "You could say I recently benefited from a rather unexpected deal recently."

Rosie raised an eyebrow expectantly, "Well, don't keep a girl waiting! Details!"

Because he was a little bit of a drama queen, he waiting until she had raised her own cup to her lips before he stated, "It turns out that all the rumors about angel blood is true, even more so for seraphim blood."

It was only because she had perfect control that she did not, if fact, choke on her drink. Rosie started at him for a long moment, trying to see if he was serious. When it became clear he was, she stated, "Well, shit, you certainly don't go small, do you?" She leaned forward, placing her free hand over one of his. "This deal didn't put you in a tough spot, now did it?"

Alastor's smile softened. "None of that, my dear." He didn't like to touch people, anymore than he liked being touched in return, but Rosie had always been kind to him, so he placed his other hand on top of hers and gave it a squeeze. "All that was asked for was a who's who on Pentagram City's current political landscape."

Rosie tilted her head to the side, the feather in her hat swaying with the motion. When she withdrew her hand, Alastor released it. "Our King is showing interest in his kingdom?" She blinked, more than a little surprised. He didn't blame her. "My, what could have brought this little development about?"

Alastor pulled both hands from the table, a subtle cue he had had enough tactile contact for the day, although he wasn't completely closing himself off from it. "Someone has been sending mercenaries to attack the hotel. Drivel, mostly. Little more than snacks on the whole." He hummed in memory of all the free morsels that had been sent his way, lately. "The attacks haven't done anything, really, other than rile his Majesty up." He gave her a look of amusement. "He's begun an investigation into who might be behind the attacks and asked after us Overlords. I gave you a good word, of course."

It was a testament to how quick-witted she was that Rosie barely blinked over the idea that their sovereign had apparently not only crawled out of the wood work, but was also finally taking an interest in his kingdom again. "Oh, of course you did." She flapped a hand at Alastor. "Do tell him if he ever want to visit, he's more than welcome!"

Alastor made a noise of acknowledgement. "He's quite the character, our king. I'm sure you'd find him... amusing." Amongst other things, he thought to himself as he sipped on the last of his tea.

Ever the host, Rosie noticed. "Oh, dear me, let me refill that." She raised the pot of tea to do so, offering, "You know, I just remembered: we got in a fresh body just this morning. Would you like an arm?"

The redhead considered the request, but found himself much too full. Whatever room he'd had available had already been taken up by his drink. "I thank you kindly for the offer, but sadly must pass this time." He placed his now empty cup on its saucer. "Why, I dare say I might have to wait on another cup of this delicious tea."

Rosie didn't have pupils that Alastor had ever been able to track, yet he had the distinct impression he was being looked up and down. "That blood must have been quite the thing to curb an appetite like yours." She shrugged before pulling over a box of ring fingers. Some even still had the rings on them. "Hm, knowing you, a certain someone might have to worry about her seat - if she ever intends to come back."

Alastor paused. Rosie did that sometimes: said things that threw him for a loop. "What now?"

She waved a finger in a circle to indicate the entirety of her guest, her smile all teeth and knowing. "Come now, Alastor, I don't think I've ever seen you in such a state before. I almost think you have intentions towards the king!"

The redhead tilted his head to the side, considering. Did he have intentions towards Lucifer? He certainly wouldn't mind having another go at his blood. Riling him up had yet to get old.

The urge to hunt, sated though it was at the moment, thrummed through his veins. Here was the ultimate prey, just waiting for the perfect opportunity to turn the tides.

The memory of the smell of apples and something he'd come to associate with Lucifer rose to mind. Of warm, pale alabaster skin beneath his lips. The feel of hands that could so easily crush him carding gently, absentmindedly, through his hair.

For the first time since their little games had started, though, Alastor realized that sitting beside the urge to devour was the urge to keep.

He examined the thought. He meant it when he said he delt primarily in favors. There were so few souls that interested him enough to keep long term. They were usually individuals who ranked as powerhouses themselves. Investments first, entertainment second.

This urge resembled that desire, but not quite. He certainly wanted access to the power contained within that tiny little package that called himself the King, but beyond that, he was beginning to think he might want to own Lucifer in every sense of the word.

Well. That was certainly quite the turn.

He turned his attention back to the world outside his own head, finding his fellow Overlord watching him and patiently waiting for him to sort out his thoughts. "I'm afraid, my dear, I don't have an answer to that, but you have given me quite the food for thought."

Rosie, bless her, didn't press. Knowing how perceptive she was on matters of the song and dance that was interpersonal relationships, it was likely she knew more than he did.

He really was thankful he made an ally of her rather than an enemy.

The rest of their chat was turned to less deep conversation. Soon enough, she sent him on his way, but not before warning, "Now be careful, Alastor. Kitten our King may be, I saw how fierce he can be when pressed."

If it didn't mean acquiring one of those silly picture boxes, Alastor might have been inclined break down and watch whatever that voyeur Vox had filmed of the fight on Extermination Day. Incidentally, his pride point blank period refused to allow him to let such a thing anywhere near his person if he didn't have to. "Don't worry, dear. It's all merely a thought. I won't do anything lest I know there's a chance at success."

That seemed to mull her over. They said their goodbyes, and he was off back to the hotel.

The conundrum that was his entanglement with Lucifer followed him all the way back to the hotel, dogging his steps as he went through the rest of his day. He didn't see the blonde at any point before he retired for bed, which was likely for the best, as Alastor was distracted and unlikely to be at the top of his game.

He didn't see him throughout any point of the following day either, not that he was looking for him. He didn't give it a second thought, not until he came upon Hell's princess halfway into a tizzy in the main gathering room.

"But Vaggie! He hasn't come down in almost two days!" Charlie wrang her hands together, glancing at the ceiling in the general direction of her father's room. "What if something's wrong?"

Vaggie had a hand on her girlfriend's shoulder, as much a comfort as it was a restraint. "What did he say when you knocked on the door?"

The hotel's owner bit her lip. "Just that he wanted to stay in for a bit. But that was yesterday. He didn't even respond at all when I knocked this morning."

"And you're sure he's still here? That he didn't leave?"

Charlie nodded. "His door is locked. He doesn't bother to lock it if he's not in."

Well, that's a silly thing to do, Alastor thought to himself. He filed it away for later. Deciding he was curious enough to join the conversation, especially since it seemed he might have been the last to see Lucifer. It would be bothersome if anyone thought he'd done anything to him when he really hadn't yet.

Alastor allowed his corporeal form to dissipate, only to reform right behind Vaggie. "What's this I hear about our esteemed leader disappearing?"

"Shit!" The fallen angel jumped, just as he hoped. Predictably, she spun around, bringing the point of her spear right up to his nose. "Cut it out, asshole. We don't have time for your games right now."

Alastor smiled down at her, as calm as a undisturbed pond, taking hold of the end of the spear and redirecting it away from his face. "And who's playing around? I heard our dear Charlie in distress and just had to see if I could help in anyway."

Vaggie narrowed her eye at him. One day, he was going to drive her to actually attempt to stab him. It would be such an entertaining day when it happened.

Charlie sniffed. She didn't necessarily look relieved to see him becoming involved, which, fair, but he could see something easing in her stance.

It was such a delight to see how much she'd grown to rely on him.

Stepping around the most hostile entity in the room like she wasn't holding a certified deadly weapon, Alastor came up to stand beside Charlie. "Tell me, do you have any reason to believe something might be wrong?"

She searched his face for any hint of falsehood. Any hint that he might use this against them.

She wasn't going to find any. She was learning to be more cautious of him, but she still had a long way to go before she'd see through his carefully constructed persona.

"Well... maybe?" She offered at last. He could see it in her eyes, her drooped shoulders: a certain helplessness. It was different from the kind that had driven her to make a deal with him. This kind was old, the sort that came from a time before the autonomy of adulthood. Likely this issue had roots in her childhood. "Mom used to say that Dad just kind of shut down sometimes. Worse than normal." She glanced at her girlfriend, likely for moral support, and then back at him. "Mom said it wasn't good to leave him alone during those times."

Alastor pushed down the eager swell that might have given up the game. Was it really going to be this easy? "And you think this might be one of those times?"

She mulled over this. Nodded, and then shrugged. "It's possible, but without getting past the lock..."

"I tried to pick the lock," Angel put out from where he was lounging on the couch, feet across Husk's lap. Husk, curiously, didn't appear to mind.

Charlie winced. "Yes, which is really not good! We shouldn't pick people's doors."

Angel shrugged, unbothered by the reprimand. "Didn't matter, either way. Turns out the door's magically locked." He made a handsy gesture with his top set of hands to emphasis his point.

Alastor looked between the two. "Is it warded?"

Everyone turned to look at him in confusion. Charlie blinked. "Warded?"

Oh, how quaint this lot was. "Magically locking the door means no one can unlock the door without breaking the spell. Unless the door is warded, there's nothing to stop someone from going, say, under the door."

Vaggie crossed her arms, posture irritated. "We can't go under the door, Alastor."

If he had his mic, he might have bopped her on the head just to mess with her. As it was, Alastor settled for smiling ever so sweetly at her as he pointed out, "Ah, maybe you can't, but it just so happens, I can."

Charlie shifted, uncertain. "You promise you won't make things worse...?"

She was so close that he could practically taste it.

Alastor placed a hand on her shoulder, softening his expression. "Now now, dear, we both know your father is hardly helpless. If he doesn't want me in there, he's more than capable of kicking me out."

Vaggie snorted, glaring viciously at him. "Yeah, not that that's ever stopped you."

Charlie glanced at her, warningly, before looking back at Alastor. She sighed and placed her hand over his. Feeling generous, he let her. "Alastor, please check on him, just... don't push, okay?"

Nothing but a formal deal was going to guarantee that, but he didn't have to advertise it. "I promise to be on my best behavior."

Her smile really was like sunlight breaking on the horizon when it wasn't being forced. She jerked forward as if she'd wanted to go for a hug but had aborted it at the last minute. Instead, she squeezed his hand. "Thank you, Alastor."

He disappeared into his shadow, partially to avoid her changing her mind and going for that hug, but also to avoid any further stipulations on his task. Between the quality of his last meal and the leaps and bounds in the healing of his wound, traveling by shadow was almost as easy as it had been before his injury. Seraphim blood was a marvel. It was such a pity that there was so little of it in Hell.

Alastor had studied the entirety of the hallway that made up his and Lucifer's floor along with the rest of the hotel the first opportunity he got upon his return. His inspection had stopped at white doors, whose handles were adorned with the same apple accents that littered the rest of the hotel. As he slipped under them, he could smell the magic on the handles. True to his suspicion, the spell was only on the lock itself, with nothing to guard again something like a shadow slipping right under the door.

It seemed Alastor's self-restraint in light of his injury had paid off, because nothing hindered him in anyway as he made his way into the room of the most powerful being Hell.

Alastor stuck to the outskirts of the room, where the darkest shadows gathered. It wasn't difficult, as most of the room was in shadow, the curtains drawn with very little natural light peaking in underneath them. The room was silent in a way that, at first, suggested that no one was in.

Perhaps Lucifer had gone out and failed to tell anyone, after all?

Tentatively, Alastor returned to his corporeal form, keeping to the darkest shadow the room he could find. When nothing and no one came flying at him, he turned his attention to the room at large.

Overall, the room appeared sparsely furnished. There was a rug laid out in front of the door. Chairs surrounding a table big enough for two over on one side of the room. The fireplace didn't appear to have ever been used, but it was there. A couple of bookshelves and a desk were the most lived in, but that was only because they were covered in small, yellow shapes he couldn't quite make out in the dark. A bed took up most of the final wall. It was perhaps the grandest thing about the room, looking every bit fit for the king who slept in it. Two side tables sat on either side of it, both with a lamp of their own.

As for the king himself, now that he was looking for it, Alastor could see the faintest outline of a shape near the left side of the bed. Creeping closer, he could see a pair of familiar boots and coat laying on the floor. A little closer, his eyes adjusting to the darkness of the room, he could see a pair of mimicked deer ears poking out the top of the nest of blankets.

For a long moment, Alastor simply stood there, looking down at the lump. His ears were strained for the first sign that his presence had been noticed, but so far there had been none. He could feel his grin widening with each beat of his heart that passed. There were so many things he could do in that moment and there was nothing anyone could do to stop him.

There was a part of him, the part that was still human and remembered what it was like to be human, that wanted to finish the job he'd started two days ago. When he'd been alive, allowing a victim to live would have been tantamount to a death sentence. A living victim could become a witness who could identify him to the authorities and then the game would be up.

Lucifer wasn't just a potential victim. He was the authorities. He was the highest authority.

After his death, Alastor hadn't had to hide who he was or what he was like. It was simply a kill or be killed world, where one's continued existence depended on brains and reputation.

And oh what a reputation the Radio Demon would gain, if he took out the King of Hell himself?

The chain - noose - around his neck sat heavy and loud, ever grating against his sanity. The memory of Husk's deal held so easily in a dark grey hand brought him back down to himself. Reminded him why he wanted to keep the little king around.

There was no other reason. There could be no other reason.

He admitted to himself that it might be interesting to just stand there, looming as he waited for Lucifer to awaken. The subconscious was a funny thing and people on the whole didn't appreciate being stared at when they slept. The general consensus was that it was creepy. It was half the reason he enjoyed doing it and it always left the victim feeling off balance. When his majesty continued to not respond, Alastor also admitted to himself that while he did normally enjoy such a plan, he wasn't that patient.

Ready to spring away, if necessary, Alastor reached out until those tantalizing ears were just under his hand. Unrepentantly, he flicked one of them.

The ear twitched violently, the lump beneath the blanket shuddered, ear going flat. Grey hands appeared along the edge of the blanket, pulling it down for Lucifer peer up at him.

The sinner waved his fingers by way of greeting at his king, who stared back at him with a pair of tired, dead eyes.

Lucifer blinked at him, once, twice... and then pulled the covers back over his head??

Alastor felt the glitch to his system, spitting static. Did Lucifer think he could just ignore Alastor and he'd go away?

Oh, no. Oh no, that wouldn't do at all.

Time to throw away the preverbal Nice Guy gloves. He clapped his hands once, sharply, one shadow going for the lamp on the side desk while another went for the end of the covers. With vindictive amusement, the covers were ripped clean off the bed, while the flick of a switch bathed the room in light. A third shadow went for the curtains, yanking them aside to let the afternoon light in. Over the low groans of the bed's occupant, Alastor proclaimed at just high enough a volume to be annoying, "Rise and shine, your Majesty! You've nearly slept the day away, but there's still some time left to enjoy it."

The blonde still didn't look like he gave any sort of fuck that someone was standing over his bed harassing him. Alastor took in the rumpled state of his king's clothing - he was still dressed in his suit, sans the pieces on the floor - as Lucifer threw an arm over his eyes in a futile attempt to block out the light. Without a word, he merely rolled over, presenting his back to Alastor, as if he wasn't a concern in the slightest. His tail didn't even so much a flick once.

Alastor narrowed his eyes, gritting his teeth. It ground his gears more than a bit to be so blatantly treated as so little a threat, but the more he took in the situation, the more it drove home what Charlie had meant by 'just kind of shut down.' With the absence of the quilt and sheets, the reek of melancholy wafted off Lucifer in waves, nearly overpowering his usual scent. Little things observed over time - the most damning being what was glimpsed during their last encounter - and Alastor recognized what he was looking at.

Lucifer Morningstar, the Devil and King of Hell was depressed. Deeply, truly, very depressed.

This was the potential opportunity he was looking for. Alastor would have to be blind not to see it. Getting close to Charlie had given him influence over Hell's future ruler as well as a possible solution to his ...other problem. It was a long game he'd been more than willing to play for the potential future rewards.

This here was the king, himself, though. As he'd just thought to himself: the highest authority in Hell. Lucifer didn't have much by way of political influence beyond the people's fear of his power. He clearly wasn't willing to use his authority to rule over his kingdom, first advocating it to his much more interested wife, before abandoning it altogether when she left.

On the other hand, who didn't know who he was? The other side of the coin to God himself, Lucifer was one of the most well known beings in all of creation, the originator and father of sin himself. The being who'd given humanity their free will and so neatly interrupted his holy father's plans.

Lucifer's interest in politics may have been nonexistent, but his reputation more than made up for it.

Could he do it, Alastor wondered to himself. Could he force himself into something companion shaped enough to meet the needs another just for power? He'd already debased himself so much already - it was how he landed in his current situation, in every sense of the word - could he do it a little more?

Static emitted from his throat, his desire - his desperation - to be free at war with his pride, tattered though it's remains were. Companionship usually came with other expectations. Expectations that included touching, amongst other things. The mere thought made him want to claw his own skin off and nothing had even happened yet.

He hadn't realized he'd moved until he heard a squeak from the direction of the floor. Attention diverted, Alastor craned his head around, hearing his own neck cracking in the process, as he tried to get a better look at whatever it was he had stepped on. He blinked when he saw the object, unable to resist reaching down to pick up the item to better exam it.

It was... a rubber duckie?

Lips parting in his bafflement, he twisted around to look towards the desk and shelves he remembered seeing earlier. The light of the lamp and the outside world illuminated the yellow objects, revealing them to be a mass pile of what were indeed rubber duckies. Every single one of them was some degree of different from the others, but they were all unmistakably the same thing. There had to be over a hundred of them. Some of them were new, but some of them were old, likely brought over from the palace.

Disgust curled up in his chest like a living thing. Disgust at himself. Disgust at Lucifer for being living proof that power doesn't mean a damn thing in the end. His anger made him reckless, blind to the potential consequences, as Alastor asked, "Is this why they left?"

For the first time since entering the room, he finally gained Lucifer's attention. "What?"

The single word sounded like a warning, but Alastor had already picked up too much momentum. He knew he liked to poke where he shouldn't, that it could be the death of him one day. Perhaps today was going be that day. In that moment, weighted down by everything, he almost didn't care. "While your people were getting slaughtered and your wife's kingdom was being burned to the ground, were you making children's toys?"

Lazily, damningly, like the final nail in his own coffin, he spun around back to the lump that would be his king. He sneered.

"How pathetic."

The only warning he had was the flicking of that silly, ridiculous tail.

Suddenly, the room was spinning. No, he was falling - being pulled? - onto the bed. His back made contact with the mattress and he got a brief glimpse of the ceiling before it was replaced by Lucifer.

Who was livid. Hands like stone pinned Alastor down at the wrists. The rest of Lucifer's body weight rested on the sinner's hips, one leg resting on either side of his body. Every single one of his fangs were visible as he bared his teeth in a snarl mere inches from Alastor's nose. "Who are you to judge me? You dare to speak of things you know nothing about?!"

Eyes void of pupils glared down at him, staring down into his very soul. Feeling exposed, feeling vulnerable, Alastor's flight or fight response kicked in, sending his heart rate through the roof. He tried to dissolve into his shadow, only to find himself unable to do so.

In response to his distress, he shadows rose up, diving in to take out his attacker. Lucifer didn't even acknowledge them. His wings appeared behind him, flooding the room with a bright light that drove away any and all shadows.

Sensing he was caught, the part of Alastor's brain that was every bit the prey animal he worked so hard not to let himself be forced him to go still under a dangerous predator.

"You are nothing more than a rapid dog nipping at my heels." Lucifer growled, the smell of smoke heavy on his breathe. "I should put you out of your misery, once and for all."

Alastor swallowed, forced himself to think through the molasses of his fear. He may be pinned and powerless, but he wasn't completely without weapons. He was never more glad that his smile was fixed in place as he stated, "Ah, there you are, your Majesty. You had Charlie worried about you."

He was almost able to keep the grimace out of his voice. Almost.

Alastor wondered if that had been perhaps the wrong thing to say, as Lucifer tightened his grip until bones began to grind together. Red tipped fingers curled inwards, the only sign of his pain.

Golden pupils appeared between one blink to the next, tracking the movement. As if he actually cared about the pain he could be causing, Lucifer's grip loosened, just enough that they were simply pinning instead of inflicting harm. His voice, on the other hand, held no mercy, as he asked, "What does my daughter have to do with this?"

Growing more confident the longer the king didn't kill him, Alastor explained, "Well, when she didn't hear from you today, Charlie asked me to come check on you, of course!" It wasn't entirely the truth, but it was close enough to hold up under any immediate scrutiny.

Lucifer narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously, all to happy to bring on the scrutiny. "Why would she send you?"

Alastor shrugged like he wasn't pinned under someone who was just trying to kill him mere moments ago. "Because I was the only one that could get into the room. Perks of being the Hotel Manager!" As his panic began to settle with each passing moment Lucifer was slowly returning to his normal form, the feeling of his skin crawling from every point of contact between them was beginning to rise. He needed to get Lucifer off him and soon. "In fact, she's waiting for word back right at this moment!"

Lucifer's eyes, pupils red and sclera yellow again, searched him, likely to see if he was telling the truth. Upon seeing that he was, he proceeded to finally make a mistake.

He took his eyes off of his captive to glance at the door, hands loosing just that tiny, crucial bit more.

Alastor caught his heels on the edge of the bed, using the leverage to raise his hips up into a bridge. The new position forced Lucifer to either release his wrists to catch himself or face plant as he was thrown forward. Luckily for the redhead, Lucifer went for catching himself, releasing Alastor, who immediately sprung up, catching the blond around the waist. Twisting, the two toppled over.

Within mere seconds, their positions were reversed: Alastor on top and Lucifer pinned to the mattress on his back.

The little king blinked up at him. He almost looked impressed with the move. He glanced at the hands pinning his wrists, flexing them as he tested the strength of the grip. Squirmed a little as the new position was likely putting an uncomfortable weight on his wings.

Good, Alastor thought. At any other time and situation, Alastor might have been fascinated by them. At the moment, his grip on those deceptively dainty wrists and any signs of discomfort were the only thing allowing him to hold onto his sanity.

For a long moment, they simply remained still, both parties regaining control over their frayed nerves. As his heart rate settled, his breathing normalizing, Alastor became aware of something he hadn't noticed over the stench of melancholy: his own scent.

It was becoming stale, but he could still was still there, separate from what he was currently leaving behind. It clung to Lucifer's person like a neon sign to tell anyone with the nose for it that he had let the Radio Demon close enough to him to make a claim.

He hadn't gotten rid of it.

The knowledge awoke a beast of a different kind, possessive and wanting, the scales tipping from Alastor wanting to devour this prize to wanting to keep him, if only he could figure out how. It left him nearly dizzy with whiplash.

Movement pulled him out of the thought. The redhead focused back on the outside world in time to see Lucifer directing his attention down the length of his own body. Alastor, without thinking, did the same.

Something hot and mortified clawed at his throat as he realized that while the blonde had been sitting on his hips in the original hold, the change in position had Alastor pinning Lucifer to a bed while sitting between his legs.

Alastor threw himself off of Lucifer and the bed, feeling like every point of contact had burned him. Lucifer raised himself up on his elbows, raising an eyebrow at him. The redhead didn't know what he saw in his expression before it was all locked away behind his mask, but it resulted in the blonde's own expression growing tired.

Lucifer let himself fall back onto the bed, seemingly heedless of his wings, running a hand down his face. "Message received." He waved a hand at the door. The spell on the door fell away with a light shower of sparks. Task down, the limb fell limp down onto the mattress. "Please tell Charlie I'll be down shortly."

It was a clear dismissal. Usually Alastor would have bristled at such a thing, but considering he did not want to be in that room anymore, he let it go. Forcing everything back into place, despite the ways his edges were feeling frayed, he said faux pleasantly, "As you wish, sire."

He paid little attention to the half assed wave of goodbye he received in response. When he disappeared into his shadow, he refused to look too deeply into how much it felt like he was running.

Again.

tbc

Part 8

#radioapple #alastor #lucifer morningstar #deer lucifer fic #alastor took over this chapter #and of course its the longest one yet #yay for development of their relationship #but is it good development #i'd hoped certain scenes would go differently #but alastor does what he wants #and here we are #we're back to lucy's pov next chapter #and some more time with the plot #i need to actually think about where it's going #so i have no idea when the next part will be out #but it has been started #yay #this fic now has a title #the inherent intimacy of courting death

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misslavenderlady · 11 months

Text

The Prince & The Princess 👑👑

Marko/Female!OC

Summary: Marko has held onto the guilt of hurting his bride for months now. She's sad to see him feeling so down, so she decides it's time they properly made up~

Thank you @aairadaebak for the request! I appreciate your patience and I hope you enjoy this!

This is the sequel to the KARMA collab series with @ghoulgeousimmaculate. It features her OCs from Party The Pain Away and Little Red (which I highly recommend you read). This has references to her stuff, and takes place in the modern world, not 1987!

WARNINGS: N.s.f.w./18+ Readers Only, References to physical/sexual abuse, References to torture, Pregnancy, Guilt, Panic attack, Fear, Make-up sex, Cunninglingus, Vaginal sex, Sex on a desk, Language Kink, Light Dom/Sub, Romance, Cutting skin, Blood drinking Credit to @losthavenmine and @ofallingstar for gifs

Being a bride of the Lost Boys wasn’t for the faint of heart.

David and the boys were cruel with their love, showing no mercy until they ensnared the objects of their desire. The four lured vulnerable victims with sweet nothings and gentle caresses before swooping in to seize their mind, body, and soul with sadistic torture and manipulation.

Only the most resilient women could see their twisted affection for its beauty.

And Sis was one of those women.

Out of all the sisters, she sacrificed the most to be their mate. Her mother was deceased, her sanity was fried, and her soul was compromised. But out of all the horrific things the men she loved did to her, she never expected one of them to force themselves on her.

The boys held her prisoner for over a year before they wed. But every time she opened her legs, she gave herself willingly.

Marko’s assault was an exceptional betrayal that disgusted the entire pack. The vampires who once feared and revered him now looked down their noses like he was nothing more than a disrespectful cockroach scurrying across the ground. Marko felt out of place in the pack, like he was no longer welcome despite atoning with his flesh.

Life after the traumatic event was challenging for him and Sis.

Despite enacting her triumphant revenge and being blessed with another child, Sis had some hurdles to conquer. Her confidence was restored, but she was still uncomfortable in the petite vampire's presence. Being in the same room with him without David or Dwayne for support was difficult, but she didn’t want to spend the rest of eternity distrustful of one of the vampires she loved immensely.

She wanted nothing more than to restore the bond that was broken all those months ago.

Marko had never been one to fall into self-loathing or shame. He was a ruthless man in life and in death. When he once walked in the sunlight, he was a noble lord, a powerful man to be feared and respected by all.

He took great pleasure in torturing others. There was an entire dungeon of horrors named in his honor. Servants whispered theories about what he did in such a dark, terrifying place.

That sadistic thirst for pain stayed with him as a vampire. In fact, it was dialed up to a greater level. He found sick pleasure in the cries of anguish the brides made in his beloved toy room. It made his cock as hard as stone.

But this time around, he wasn't in a position of power. David was. Marko was his lackey, always doing as he wished, no matter what. Whether it was running errands or bending over to let his body be used, Marko would follow David's order.

He wished with all his blackened heart he had done so this time around.

Marko truly didn't know what came over him. In his moment of weakness, the feral side had completely taken over, wanting nothing but to breed the beautiful vampire bride. Perhaps it was an ancient, animalistic call to grow the coven.

Whatever it was, he should have controlled himself.

After every last punishment David put him through, Marko was healed in body, but not mind. He wasn't like himself. Instead of sneaky and confident he was now meek and silent. His impish nature had gone, leaving behind a frightened, cherub-faced boy who would never dare to look anybody in the eye.

Sis noticed his change in demeanor and ironically, it hurt her so. Marko’s mischievous nature caused her great terror during training, but it was also the very thing that drew her to him when they first met. She first laid eyes on him across the bar roughhousing with Paul—with a cheeky smile upon his lips. She loved the chaotic glint in his eye when he was about to inflict the most exquisite torment.

The vampire queen was made from the worst parts of the boys. Her sadism in particular was nurtured by Marko. Some of her most cherished date nights were with Marko after her turning. Together they would trap the prettiest women and release them in the woods to be hunted and devoured.

She loved the mania in the petite vampire’s eyes when he picked her up around the waist and spun her around. She missed that vampire. It was like he didn’t exist anymore.

And that was something she couldn’t allow as the mother of the pack. So, with shaky legs and an uneasy belly, she sought out her fourth husband. She searched their underground kingdom high and low until she found the littlest vampire hiding in a nook deep in the bowels of the sleeping wing.

Marko looked up to her doe eyes, her presence startling him from his project. He was surrounded by vivid scraps of fabric, obvious trinkets from recent victims that he had eaten. He was in the process of adding the patches to his jacket, which had gotten quite the upgrade over the years.

“How’s the sewing going?” Sis whispered as she lingered by the doorway of the alcove. She didn’t enter the room fully, afraid that Marko might flee before she could show him that she meant no harm.

Marko didn't look at her with hunger like he used to. He instead had the sad expression of a puppy who misbehaved and got a scolding from its master. It didn't look right to Sis. Those deep, hazel eyes were meant to burn with a playful fire.

They had since fizzled out after that fateful night.

"H-Hey there," Marko mumbled. He set down his needle and thread and got back up to his feet. When he was alive, his servants greeted him in a similar manner. Frightened, yet on alert for his orders.

"Oh…this is nothing. Whatever you need, I can do this later."

If he had been his usual self, Marko would have gleefully told her stories about each patch. They would have snickered devilishly together over each victim and how they screamed.

It hurt Sis dearly to see her husband act in such a way. With a gentle look in her eyes, she slowly made her way further into the room.

"Master-"

"N-No! Please…" Marko winced at the title. He brought his entire body downward, making himself smaller and lower to the ground compared to her. "I don't deserve to be called that…not after….w-what I did…"

Sis pouted at his display. The night she tortured him with the help of David was something that brought her power and confidence. She had survived the attack and came out stronger than ever. Now she hated the way Marko continued to punish himself.

"You can't keep doing this to yourself, handsome," she cooed. "It was bad the first few weeks after the toy room, but ever since I got pregnant, you've been so much worse.”

“It’s what I deserve,” he whispered, skittishly scurrying to the corner.

Sis could tell he was calculating a way out of the room to escape her. She sighed, using her speed to block his path. She mentally kicked herself when she saw him yelp and cower against the cold stone. The last time she used her speed against him, she feasted on him, leaving the vampire drained and unable to heal while she tortured him nearly to death.

It was her pound of flesh for all that he’d done to her, but she hated that it had tainted his spirit.

“I’m sorry,” Sis soothed as she spoke to him in hushed tones. “I’m not going to hurt you. I promise. I just want to talk to you.”

“I’m not worth to be in your presence…”

“You are worthy, Marko,” Sis challenged. “I’m your wife.”

“You’re David’s wife…”

Sis seeped into her irises, Marko’s words hurting her beyond what she could ever imagine. She and David had a very sacred bond, but she belonged to ALL of the boys. Their blood ran through her veins, not just David’s. On her wedding night, she fed from all of them.

“Is that what you think?” Sis questioned.

“That’s what I know,” Marko replied in defeat, his eyes drifting to her baby bump. “You didn’t want my child…”

Sis let out an exasperated sigh. Even though she was just finishing her first trimester, Marko was still pained to see her growing belly. It was a mark of her bond with David. They were king and queen and would bring another precious heir into the world. One that could have been Marko's.

"I didn't want your child by force, Marko."

The blond trembled, immediately regretting his choice of words. Every time he was reminded of how he pinned his wife down to the ground, his stomach churned, and his head felt dizzy. The mere memory sickened him.

"I'm s-sorry! I…I know I shouldn't have done that…" he stammered. The shaking was getting worse, and it worried Sis terribly.

"My Marko…love…please.." Sis said to him. She was gentler than ever. It was most certainly foreign to her experience with him, but absolutely necessary. Not wanting to startle him, she slowly and gently reached out to cup his cheek.

Even if he was scared of hurting her again, she had to show that she held no fear towards him in return.

"First of all, we raise our babies together. We're all a family. Laddie, Eva, Jasper, Paulina, and the little ones on the way. They're all ours. Second, you have to understand that I'm not upset with you anymore. You paid for your crime, and now you're a free man. How can we grow from this if you keep beating yourself up?"

Marko's gaze fell to the cave floor. He spoke so softly, yet Sis heard his words loud and clear.

"Because I don't deserve you…" he muttered somberly. "I don't deserve the boys, I don't deserve Red and Spunky, and I especially don't deserve that baby on the way…the one I didn't appreciate like I should have…."

“If you didn’t appreciate the child you had, you wouldn’t have compromised everything you believed in to make sure Red was safe when Gem and the sisters protested on my behalf,” Sis pointed out. “You couldn’t bear the thought of Red starving or miscarrying. That sounds like a father who loves and deserves his child to me.”

“But not a man who loves and his wife…” Marko countered. “I carried you into that room kicking, screaming, and begging for mercy….I tortured you for days…I don’t deserve you.”

“I was out of line for attacking Spunky. She infuriated me, but I shouldn’t have tried to kill her. My punishment was justified, and your hand wasn’t the only hand I suffered under. David, Dwayne, and Paul punished me too.”

“It’s still no excuse…”

Sis’ shoulders slumped. She was getting exhausted with this melancholy banter, but she refused to give up until he was alive again.

“Marko…Master, I wouldn’t be me if it weren’t for you. You and the boys made me what I am today…”

“And I’m disgusted by it! By what we did to you,” he spat, springing to his feet. “We destroyed your entire life.”

“You gave me a second chance. I wasn’t living. My grief crippled me. The way I drank, smoked, and popped pills, I would have been dead by 40. You gave me eternal life. Love. Children—a family I thought I’d never have. You and the boys forced me to sacrifice some things, but I feel more alive than I ever did when I had a soul.”

Marko opened his mouth again, most likely to continue on with his words or self-degradation. But Sis would not allow such a thing.

Quick in her actions, she took hold of both sides of Marko's face and pulled him in as close as possible. Her plush lips pressed against his own, silencing any of his negative thoughts with a kiss.

The blond vampire let out a noise of surprise. He hadn't tasted her love in such a way for months. It was as if he was a teenager again, so inexperienced for a kiss. Getting to feel her again like this was making his knees buckle and his heart swell.

When she finally released him, they were both panting, practically breathless from such an intense moment.

"Dio mio, principessa…" Marko sighed, his native tongue coming out from such a surprise.

“Mio principe, farai l'amore con me?” Sis whispered with hopeful eyes.

Marko hesitantly glanced at his wife from under his brow. He studied her beautiful face, thinking about how long it had been since he’d seen it contorted in pure ecstasy. Thinking about her dainty coos of pleasure. The warmth of her soft breasts against his chest. How good it felt inside her.

Marko missed holding his wife in his arms. Missed running his nimble fingers over her tender flesh and kneading her ample curves.

Oh, how Sis fit so well in his arms! One of his fondest memories as an immortal was holding his tiny future bride in embrace while she wantonly bounced on his lap at the dinner table.

It was one of the best first dates he EVER had.

"I…I…." Marko stammered with a shuttered breath. He felt as if an angel and devil were perched on his shoulders, whispering to him. One telling him to ravage the beauty before him and the other ordering him not to hurt her.

His usual personality was fighting with his punished self. Sis just knew how to turn his world upside down in every way possible.

Perhaps it was possible to have a little bit of both. Enjoy her touch and savor it for what it was. No chains, no floggers, no toy room.

Just man and wife.

"Oh God, come here, beautiful," he sighed, finally giving in to temptation.

He moaned deeply as he brought her in for another kiss. His arms wrapped around her waist, desperate to keep her close. It all felt so right. Like he found his missing piece of the puzzle. One little taste was already driving him wild with need.

And Sis was unraveling too.

The ebony queen slithered her taloned fingers under Marko’s crop top to caress his pale flesh. She giggled when Marko shivered under her ministrations, the curly-haired blond moaning into her mouth as he crushed his lips to hers.

Pressing her toes forward, Sis ejected herself into the air and wrapped her legs around Marko’s waist. She gyrated her hips, grinding her pelvis against her husband’s burgeoning erection. The large stiff bulge of his manhood pulled a sultry sigh from her full lips.

“Ooh, Master,” Sis cooed as Marko trailed kisses down her throat. “Ti amo tanto~”

The blond vampire carried his bride across the room, holding her about the waist with one hand as he swept the other over the desk. Spools of thread and patches of intricate fabric scattered on the ground in a chaotic heap.

But Marko didn’t care. His jacket was usually his pride and joy. But at this moment, all that mattered was the precious time he was spending with his beautiful wife.

With her legs still wrapped around his waist, Sis purred in delight underneath her husband. She loved it when Marko tossed her around for some fun. Even if he was being more gentle with her for now, she still loved getting to be with him again.

She tugged at his shirt, silently begging him to take it off. Marko's body was absolutely flawless. The image of a Greek statue carved to perfection. He shouldn't have to hide it.

"God, you're so sexy, Master," she sighed, her manicured nails running along his muscular chest. "I want you~"

It truly felt amazing to hear his wife beg to have him again. Her voice was pure music to him, and he wanted to make her sing out some more.

"I always want you too, principessa~" Marko whispered to her. If he was going to do this, he was going to do it right. "Please, beautiful. May I taste you?"

Sis was certainly never one to deny the chance to get eaten out. With a newfound desire in her eyes, she spread her legs for Marko, granting him access to her body.

For once in his life, Marko didn't tear off her clothing like a wild animal. He wanted to treat her right. Like a real lady in need of some love. He trailed kisses down her plush thighs as he gently tugged her panties down her legs.

Seeing her pussy glisten for him again was making the front of his pants sore. He had to have her.

“Ti leccherò la figa,” Marko purred as his nimble fingers caressed Sis’ smooth chocolate thighs. The blond vampire kneaded the supple flesh, sighing from the sublime sensation of her body beneath the pads of his fingers.

With tender dominance, Marko seized Sis’ thighs, pulling her to the edge of the table so he could dine. He plopped in his chair, scooting towards his wife’s dripping orifice with a devilish glint in his eye.

“Sembri così gustoso amore mio,” Marko whispered against his wife’s folds. He lulled his tongue from his mouth, teasingly panting like a greedy puppy against his wife’s dripping loins.

Sis whined as she felt the soothing heat waft over her needy body. She squealed in delight when Marko rolled his tongue over her slit before delving in face first, vibrating his tongue like a ravenous creature who fed on lust. A sinful shiver tore through her needy body from the ministrations of Marko’s evil little tongue. He was driving her mad, the woolly walls she used to hide her inner beast unfolding.

Sis percolated with madness; the vixen giggled uncontrollably until her child-like titters turned into wails of passion.

A moan fell from Marko's soft lips, muffled by the warmth of his wife's womanhood. She was absolutely delectable, inside, and out. Every time he had a taste, he felt starved for more. He'd give up all the blood in the world just to feed off her.

"Ooooh M-Master~!" Sis sighed out. Her head fell back as she relaxed more into Marko's hold. In between each girlish giggle was a womanly moan. She flipped back and forth between her states of mind when the boys were pleasuring her so intensely.

That only fueled the blond's hunger more. He grabbed hold of her soft thighs and threw her legs over his shoulders so he could dive in deeper. He knew every sweet spot within his wife's body, and he rubbed each one nicely with his tongue.

"Ooh! Ooooh fuck, mi principe vampiro~"

“Ti piace quella, principessa?”

“Sì, mio principe...but I need you inside me,” Sis panted. “Please, Master…”

“I tuoi desideri sono ordini…”

Marko gave his wife one last teasing lick before standing at his feet to mount her. He unzipped himself, dropping his jeans in a heap around his ankles to free his dick. His manhood sprang free, standing at attention engorged, veined, and weeping. He stroked it as he lined himself up with Sis’ slick hole. He playfully tortured the writhing woman, running his glans up and down her sensitive slit.

Marko enjoyed watching Sis shiver and coo with anticipation as he denied her desire to be filled, but his game backfired. The petite vampire could barely hold out long enough to get her begging, because feeling her reminded him of how long he hadn’t been inside. Halfway through his torment, he abandoned his teasing and slipped into Sis in one motion. The vampire queen was so slick that he slid in with ease, her juices producing a lewd squelching as he entered her body.

"Mmmn yessss~" she sighed out, delighted by the feeling of Marko stretching and filling her with ease. She was incredibly grateful to have not one but four different husbands with amazing cocks to fuck for eternity. They never left her unsatisfied.

She eagerly tightened her legs around Marko's waist. The closer he was, the better. Sis always longer to feel Marko fuck her nice and deep. Make her go positively dumb with lust.

But this time was different. Marko wasn't his usual self. Rather than roughly fucking into her, he was smooth and slow with his motions. Gentle, in fact. A little too gentle.

"Master…" Sis cooed, cocking her head to the side, and looking up at the blond with big, beautiful doe eyes. "Is something wrong?"

He figured she would notice. They had embraced as lovers enough time to recognize the unique ways they made love. Marko smiled sheepishly down at her. It was quite different from the usual sadistic smirk he gave her.

"Sorry…didn't want to hurt you…or the baby…" he admitted. Marko gently placed a hand on top of her baby bump, softly massaging her skin.

“Master…” Sis sighed as her breath hitched from the tender kneading of her bump. “I trust you…I know you won’t hurt me.”

“I appreciate that, principessa,” Marko purred, “but I want to savor you…just this once….”

Marko rolled his hips, arching his back in a serpentine manner as he pistoned his hips into Sis. His thrusts were confident and powerful, but slow and sensuous. And with purpose. He may not be dominating Sis in the way he usually did, but his sadism still shined through as he massaged her deep inside.

Each time he pumped into his wife; he could see her eyes widen with ecstasy as the plump ridges of his manhood caressed her sensitive erogenous zones. A playful giggle fell from his lips when her back arched and she whined pitifully. Sis murmured in Italian, little curses falling from her pretty painted mouth.

“FUCK…signore oscuro! Mio principe, ti amo! SHIT!”

Hearing his beloved mate say things in his first language drove Marko wild. It made him imagine her with the title of Lady to his Lordship. Though he and his brothers had plenty of money to spare in the modern world, he would have enjoyed spoiling her in his human life as well.

Still, she had an even greater title to her name; Vampire Queen of Santa Carla.

"Sei bellissima. Sei la mia vita. Ti amo, cara mia~"

The words of romance poured out of Marko's mouth like water from a stream. It just came to him so naturally having her like this. Craving even more of Sis, he brought himself down, pressing her body onto the desk with his own. Not too much pressure to hurt her belly, of course, but just enough to enjoy her even more.

"My beauty. I missed you so fucking much~" he purred into her ear. Marko slipped his hands over here, intertwining their fingers together. "I swear I'll never hurt you again, principessa."

Sis mewled, her body vibrating as Marko led her to orgasm. She gripped his fingers tightly, holding on for dear life as her walls pulsed around his thick shaft. Marko continued riding her, his hazel eyes boring into hers. He leaned forward, crushing his lips to hers once more before running his tongue along her cheek.

He sighed into the crook of her shoulder, the taste of her driving him ballistic and sending him over the edge. The salt of her tears. The sweetness of her juices.

And that GRIP!

Marko rolled his hips as long as he could. But her vampiric muscles of her core trapped him in place, milking him. He came with a grunt, bathing her insides with his seed—reclaiming her as his own.

But she wasn’t fully his. Not just yet. They had to complete one more sacred act to make things right. Marko picked Sis up around her waist, carrying her around the desk. He seated himself while he was still attached, holding her tenderly in his arms as she clung to him. Her body still rigid from orgasm.

“Principessa…look at me…” Marko whispered, untangling Sis’ arms from around his neck.

Sis sat back, looking at Marko with reddened eyes and tear-streaked cheeks. She watched him in curiosity as his claws extended and slashed a section of his own throat to free his century-old blood.

“Mi amore…Drink…let’s renew our vows as husband and wife.”

Sis nodded, overwhelmed with emotion that Marko wished to renew the unholy sacraments they participated in on their wedding day. She wiped a tear from her eye before she wrapped her lips over the weeping cut, drinking deeply from her mate. His blood, thick and rich with wisdom and power flowed down her throat and into her belly. She would digest and metabolize his essence, making herself one with him once again.

And to return the favor, she wanted him to do the same.

“Mio principe, prendimi…” She whispered as she ran her index over her breast, her red talon freeing her fledgling blood. She was young, but she was made from greatness. Her blood a fusion of the covens—the boys and the sisters. By Marko drinking from her, their bond would come full circle, and they could finally move on as a family.

Marko's tongue slowly traced over his lips in hunger. She truly was his. He could see that clear as day with her offering her blood to him in such a way. Months ago, he used his talons on her, accidentally slicing part of her skin. She was so scared and helpless that night.

Now she was willing and happy. That was all he truly wanted. Even if it would be centuries before he could give her another baby, he'd be more than satisfied to enjoy the marital bliss as it was.

"Come to me, beautiful," he purred, bringing her bosom to his mouth. He greedily lapped at her blood, thrilled to taste her. Such perfection would only get better with age. Like the world's finest wine.

"Master~" Sis sighed out for him. She ran her fingers through his silky curls as he drank from her body. It felt right to be like this again. No fights or punishments. Just love.

By the time Marko took the last drop and cleaned her wound, their connection was fully restored. Both the vampires could feel it. Life would still have plenty of ups and downs, but now they were stronger than ever.

"I love you, Marko."

"I love you too, beautiful."

Once Sis had been properly cleaned and set up in her luxurious bath to be pampered by the other boys, Marko decided to go off on his own. He was more than satisfied with how he and his wife made up, but there was another special lady who needed his attention.

Slipping through the hall of the cave, he made his way to the nest of a certain little redhead.

He poked his head in the entryway to see Red in her room. She was deep in a fit of nesting, carefully folding all of the baby clothes she had been gifted so they were all ready for when she gave birth.

That delivery could happen any day now, as indicated by the great roundness of her belly. It made Marko's heart swell with pure love.

"There's my beautiful girls," he cooed.

Red lifted her head to meet his gaze, surprised by him after being so lost in focus.

"Hi, Marko," she smiled. "You seem like you're in a much better mood. Everything going well?"

"Going fantastic, actually," he sighed. He stepped into the room, his hands hidden behind his back as he moved. It made Red grow quite curious.

Marko finally had his smirk back. The one that made it clear he was up to something sneaky. Red would have gotten nervous if she didn't already know his games were on hold while she was heavily pregnant.

"I have a gift for you, love," Marko said. He pulled his hands out from behind his back.

Marko revealed a tiny satin box, opening the vessel to reveal a dazzling ring—a ruby, similar to Sis’ mammoth opulent gem, but unique. It was white gold, emerald cut, and flanked by two large diamonds.

“I know Sis is my wife,” Marko whispered, “but you are just as so special to me, mi amore. You accept me for the beast that I am, and you blessed me with the best gift a man could ever ask for. I may not be king, but I am eternally grateful that you carry my legacy. I wanted to give you this months ago, but with my crime…and my shame. I thought I was unworthy of you…I still am, but…that’s because I know how important you are to me. Principessa, ti amo….”

Red’s bottom lip quivered, her pregnancy hormones triggering her turbulent emotions. Her heart fluttered in her chest as she laid eyes on the sparkling ring. As a child, Red always dreamed of getting married, being a bride, and living happily ever after. But when Marko handcuffed her to his bed over a year ago, she thought she’d die without ever becoming a bride.

And yet, he made her one.

She was born in blood, becoming his mate for eternity, but in comparison to her elder Sis, she felt inferior. Sis was strong, commanding, and exceptionally beautiful, with the wit and charisma worthy of a queen.

Red loved Big Sis, but she was sometimes jealous. Envious of the looks of adoration that blanketed Marko and the boys’ faces when she walked in the room. How they waited on her hand and foot. How she had the power to make them buckle and bow when she played her cards right.

And the ring. The beautiful symbol of matrimony that represented a union between two lovers. Red longed for a gem of her own. A sheath for her bare ring finger.

Now, thanks to her dark prince, she had one of her own.

“Marko!” Red gasped, springing from her seat and dropping the baby items she had obsessively fussed over for the last hour. “For me?”

“Sì, mia bellezza! I love you so much! I want you to know you are royalty too…una degna sposa.”

Red gazed at Marko with a great look of adoration in her eyes. She leaned in to kiss him, her baby bump set in the middle of their bodies as she did so. Marko didn't mind, of course. It felt good being reminded of the newest edition of their happy little family.

"I may be a monster, but I promise to be good to you forever, Red. To both of you."

He leaned down in order to press a sweet kiss on her belly, showing his love for his unborn daughter. To think that a wicked, corrupt soul like Marko could have this second chance with love and a family was such a miraculous gift.

All truly was right again.

Italian Translations:

Dio mio, principessa - My God, princess

Mio principe, farai l'amore con me? - My prince, will you make love to me?

Ti Amo Tanto - I love you so much

Ti leccherò la figa - I will eat your pussy

Sembri così gustoso, amore mio - You look so tasty, my love

Ti piace quella, principessa? - you like that, princess?

I tuoi desideri sono ordini - Your wish is my command

Signore Oscuro - Dark Lord

Sei bellissima. Sei la mia vita. Ti amo, cara mia - You are very beautiful. You are my life. I love you, my dear

Prendimi - pick me up

Sì, mia bellezza! - yes, my beauty!

Tag List: @britany1997 @6lostgirl6 @pixielostboy @bloodywickedvamp @kurt-nightcrawler @bezinful @american-idiot-jpg @vampirefilmlover @crustyraccoon @legal-lost-boy @ria-coolgirl

#nsft #smut #writing collab #the lost boys #tlb #writing request

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iconuk01 · 3 days

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I'd forgotten that Madripoor's first appearance in the Marvel Universe was in New Mutants #32.

The team are off, by themselves, to investigate what seems to be the return of their long thought deceased member Karma, who now operates as a crime lord in an obscure island hellhole called Madripoor.

Nicely stylised art from Steve Leialoha here.

"Council of war" would perhaps be more impressive if they weren't in their various jim-jams. (Again, nicely in keeping with their various personalities. Roberto in fancy dressing gown, Sam in pyjama trousers, Doug in shorts, Dani in T-shirt, Amara in some sort of toga-esque wraparound affair, and the ever-shy Rahne in high collared nightgown and dressing gown over the top.

Also Doug seems to have a wireless computer, which was quite the achievement in 1985, as they wouldn't be a thing until ten years later.

Oh, and Doug and Bobby NEVER getting on. I mean, I love that the New Mutants are "ride or die", but given the number of strong personalities involved, it made sense that SOME didn't like each other, and Bobby and Doug were the prime examlpe.

I like Doug supplying the useful info and perhaps rubbing Bobby's nose in the fact that HE is the smart one. (I think, until Doug came along, Bobby was the best with computers, and that rankles with him a little)

And also that this issue has the cute moment with Warlock exploring, as tactfully as possible, how best to flirt with his selffriendDoug, by finding out what his preferences might be. (To borrow a phrase from the Big Bang Theory when Penny first wonders about Sheldon; "What IS his deal? Girls...? Guys...? Sock Puppets...?)

#new mutants #doug ramsey #cypher #warlock #roberto da costa #sunspot

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libbee · 1 year

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Aftermath of 8th house moon or scorpio moon mother-child relationship

Once upon a time there were two orphan boys in a small town somewhere in Japan. Their belongings were taken by people, house was seized by landlord and they were homeless. On a cold winter night, they had only one quilt or blanket to shield both of them in the snow. They hugged each other tight and put up the blanket. Next morning they were found deceased. A hotel owner picked their blanket and kept it in his hotel for the use of customers. A customer comes, eats dinner, drinks alcohol and goes to his room. Hotel owner gives him the same blanket that he picked up earlier. Customer goes to sleep but wakes up to a conversation: "big brother, are you cold?" "Yes, are you cold too?" Customer is terrified and informs the owner. Owner calls it rubbish and says he must be drunk. But the customer leaves hotel in fear. Same pattern repeats with many customers in coming days. Hotel owner is worried because of loss of business. So he takes the blanket with him and sleeps in it that night. He then wakes up to two voices talking to each other. But who was it? These voices came from the blanket. It was the conversation the two boys had the night they passed away. Their voices and feelings were absorbed in the blanket and kept replaying every night.

Mother is a goddess, the divine earth that gives birth to a new life

All mothers care for their offsprings, be it human or cow or dog or birds

But sometimes, some mothers are themselves so unhealed that despite their best intentions their parenting style terrorizes the child

These are the 8th house moon or scorpio moon mothers

Since the child spends most of his time close to mother, he is attuned to mother's emotional cycles

And since the child knows nobody else in the world, he is dependent on mother for all his needs

Mother is suddenly happy, suddenly irritated, suddenly anger outburst then act like nothing happened

A child who grew up in this environment has emotionally disfigured life even in adulthood

He does not understand why he keeps feeling childhood emotions when he does not live in that environment anymore

But the feelings of childhood are deeply absorbed in his body. Just like the blanket in the story above, child absorbs the energy of his environment that keeps replaying for many many years on its own

Absorbs the feelings in environment, destablizing, perpetually chaotic, repetitive memories, analytical thoughts, age regression, flashbacks of childhood are common

Even after the child has stepped into adulthood, his body has absorbed the eggshells environment of childhood and causes various emotional, mental, physical problems

There is a book called Body Keeps The Score and a whole field of psychology dedicated to how mother or father issues can carry with you your whole life and impact decisions at every point of time

Proof is in the experience

It is not fault of mother either. Imagine the kind of environment she grew up in to turn out like that

The process of healing can be really personal and duration will vary from one person to other. It is also about willingness, luck, how self aware they are, resources to read from. I myself dont know much about healing, I just try to validate what is common for certain natives to feel so they dont think they are lost or hopeless

Though if you are comfortable or habitual to feeling unwholesome emotions, healing is an oppotunity to become enlightened

For eg, there is a famous astrologer P V Narsimha Rao with many planets in 8th house (but not moon) who is efficient in astrology, spiritual practice, meditation, advaita vedanta, topics of karma, tantra and matters of spirit. There is a free pdf on his blog where you can see how he puts his 8th house planets to use by really reading into the unconscious. His blog is called vedicastrologer.org.

In the same breath, I would like to mention Osho for his spiritual talks who also had many planets in 8th house

If natives are capable of adjusting inner expectations to physical reality, realize they did not have a conventional childhood and that they need not conform to socio cultural norms as adults, the darkness they feel can be the source of enlightenment

Even Buddha sought enlightenment because he was disturbed at the sight of a sick man, an old man and a dead body

That is to say one does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious (Carl Jung)

#astrology #Moon in 8th house #astro community #astro notes #astroblr #astro tumblr #astrology and mental illness #vedic astrology #vedic astro notes

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sunnyap · 3 months

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Peering into the cave, Felix was met with a scene that shook him to his very core. In truth he had seen worse; there wasn't much blood, or viscera, or Lovecraftian monstrosities. However, the sight before him was more than enough to stop him where he stood.

Against the farthest wall of the cave from its entrance was the corpse of a combatant. Immediately, he identified the uniform as his unit's very own. Before their chopper had touched down, he and his squadmates had been notified of another Eta-10 squadron going MIA in the area. But what shocked him was the callsign that belonged to the now deceased agent. On their vest was a patch which read, 'HELIOS-07.'

Felix was obviously aware of the fact that this was his callsign. That alone was enough to scare him. His mind immediately began to generate questions and thoughts of anxiety. And as if perceiving what likely was his own corpse wasn't enough to cause paranoia, there was a radio next to the body, emitting a voice that was undoubtedly that of one of his squadmates. His own radio had been receiving the same signal.

He wondered if this was quick karma for the remarks he made at the beginning of the mission, but he didn't have the capacity to curse himself for being so cocky. He stood there, staring blankly at the corpse before him, soaking in the scene like a sponge, listening to the calls of his colleague through the radio.

What could explain any of this?

I doodled a lore thing for one of my SCP ocs, Helios-07 (his name is Felix, and that's so lame). Buddy's the typa mf to go "well, THIS just got awkward! 😅😅" In this situation... What an idiot......

#scp ocs #scp original character #oc art #original character #scp #my ocs #doodle

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the-valianter-valkyriest · 2 years

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Dolls of New Albion assorted quote prompts. tw for death and suicidal themes. change pronouns as necessary.

"Come back to me, there's so much we could be."

"Come to me, I'm summoning the ghost!"

"Be my angel, be with me."

"Please come back- I grab at heaven's throat."

"You didn't know I was alive until that one night we spoke, and you kissed me."

"A recently deceased man found himself wound in the land of living again."

"It's like a dream, where no one calls me failure if I don't succeed."

"You must be brilliant and the best or you are worthless."

"Children aren't what achievers need."

"Ghosts of dreams of who you thought you'd one day be when you grew up."

"I loved you, and I really tried."

"I would have had the lime pie, but I was dying inside."

"I want him left penniless! Face down in the dust!"

"When does intimacy become a pit of loathing, disgust and hate?"

"Drugs and dance and spirits whirl, and we reject our fathers' world."

"All for love is all I do, the love I never get from you."

"I don't need you to pretend, all I ask for is a friend."

"All the sorrow, guilt and shame, burdens born and karma paid, in one soft breath like candlelight dispersed in endless Elysian night."

"With razor, rope, and no lament, I go to where my sorrows end."

"Now hold on- that isn't at all what I mean-!"

"He's fanned the flames that kill his dear [name] tonight."

"On this day of my enlistment, I shed my skin of will and innocence."

"I am your arm of execution. I am the trigger of your gun."

"The scrawl beyond these walls is a cold and coarse and vicious place."

"In the years I've been trapped here, only you I've come to love."

"You're my soul, my angel, the only thing that keeps me whole."

"Some speak about love in a kind way… The friend that won't leave and makes your day sane."

"Some speak of love and kindness, and clutch in blindness, and take and hoard and hide."

"When you're broken there's no assurance you've made a better place."

"The sentence, citizen, is death. It will be carried out this instant, say any prayers that you have left."

"I perceive another place, and it must be built upon your grave."

"We can not stay; the future is always on its way."

#rp meme #rp prompt #thread prompt #quote thread prompt #idk what these are called #inbox meme #dolls of new albion #feel free to rb #really vibing w this assortment. if only bc contextless i could not tell you what the fuck the plot of this thing is #couldn't make this fuckin thing without the lime pie #i probably missed a good quote too but w/e

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karmasrage · 3 months

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BASICS ↴ Full Name ↣ Karma Calanis Hood Nickname, alias ↣ Just call her Karma, her father use to call her KC Birthday ↣ March 15th [birthdays are more so acknowledged rather than celebrated] Age ↣ 160 [Going from young adult to mature. In human sense, late 20s] Class ↣ Barbarian Background ↣ Folk Hero Language ↣ Common and Elvish Parents ↣ Robin (deceased) and Marian (deceased) Sibling(s) ↣ None

APPEARANCE / FEATURES ↴ Faceclaim(s) ↣ Abigail Cowen Hair Color ↣ Ginger hair with natural blonde streaks Height ↣ 5'8 Eyes ↣ One green, one blue (after she tries to get the tadpole out via Volo) Skin tone ↣ Pale Scars ↣ She has a scar across her face Body Type ↣ Fit slim Tattoos ↣ Sword tattoo on her throat Attire ↣ Her core colors are red and gold. Typically always in armor/her adventurer clothes Glasses ↣ No

PERSONALITY / INSIDE THEIR HEAD ↴ Virtues ↣ Heroic, strong, responsible, loyal, witty Vices ↣ Impulsive, short fuse, jumps to conclusions, low intelligence, can be naive Habits ↣ None Nervous tics ↣ She doesn't show when she's nervous but when she does, her face just gets very stiff. Hobbies ↣ Adventuring, axe throwing etc. Approachability ↣ She is a barbarian so by nature, she can come off very intimidating Likes ↣ Fighting, red, gold, animals, kids, nature, drinking (barbarian things) Dislikes ↣ Being disrespected, Certain forms of magic Zodiac ↣ Aries Drink? Smoke? Drugs? ↣ Yes! Not really. Not really.

OTHER DUMB FACTS ↴ Theme song ↣ Howl by Florence + the Machine In game romance ↣ Gale Hogwarts house ↣ Gryffindor Faction ↣ Dauntless

NOTES FROM THE MUN ↴

Even though she is mainly a BG3 character, I'm open to add new verses for her.

Currently on my second BG3 run through of Karma.

When I have make my BG3 characters, I have grab inspo from other characters. Typically, fairytale characters. My inspo for her was Robin Hood. Or rather a female version of him. I personally view Robin as a rogue but I added my own lil touch with her being a elf and barbarian.

I have her parents being Robin and Marian, obviously a reference to Robin Hood. But the whole barbarian mother 150% came from the Elfo being half ogre storyline LMAO.

#( stats. )

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6bottom6bitch6 · 1 year

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If this dream I just had doesn't scream I have daddy issues idk what does lol. Since I have no one else to tell I'll tell tumblr.

The dream starts off with me having this huge argument with my father about the truth. How he treats his family. In the dream I'm telling him about himself and essentially disowning him and he's cussing me out. For context in real life my dad is a huge asshole. Don't get me wrong he's got some good characteristics but let's just say if he were to die I don't think he would have enough karma points to get into heaven 🤣. He's physically and verbally abusive. Has hit on every woman he's ever known, ex gfs, his mom, his kids, the mothers of his kids 😥. Anyways in the dream all of my siblings are following me around as I'm packing to leave pretty much supporting my decision. As I'm packing to leave I find a pillow wrapped in a blanket. I feel something towards it but idk what. As I'm getting ready to leave my dad comes up to me and tries to offer me this blanket wrapped pillow. In the dream I literally smack that shit out of his hands loooool. Again he's pissed screaming and yelling and using intimidation to try to scare me into staying but I ignore them. So then he leaves and comes back with some pieces of paper that appears to be printed out songs with his handwritten notes on the songs for what they mean and symbolize during a period of time in his life. There's a song for me with sad faces written on it and "I'm sorrys " written all over it. There's a song for my older sister and a song for my deceased baby sister. As I look through his annotations it starts off kinda sweet until I flip to the last page which is a picture of some woman sucking a cock and it says "they worship me". It was at that point that I woke up crying. But I think the dream is entirely symbolic and also triggered by recent events (today in real life my grandma called me frantic thinking she would have to call the police on my dad because he was threatening to shoot his BM) I think one of the symbols that stands out most is the pillow. I interpreted this as him wanting me to accept the bare minimum (as I always have) but I rejected it this time. And I think the image of the woman in his notes sucking a cock represents his ego which he is unfortunately extremely blinded by and I fear he won't realize until he is a bitter old man and everyone in his life has left him. 😢😥

#if you read all this thank you for coming to my dream talk #bad dreams #family trauma #daddy issues #speaking into the void

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many-faces-of-adrian · 1 year

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Hello! Welcome!

My main blog is 50shadesofpitchblack! And this is my oc, Adrian’s, RP/ask blog!

This blog is really a jack of all trades! It’s obviously about my main oc, Adrian.

I drop Adrian into a lot of fandoms I love. Here’s a list of AUs:

Zelda AU: (Skyward Sword) Stupidly followed Link down to the surface to help in his quest to find Zelda. Met Ghirahim and was brainwashed into becoming his servant (later RPs, he changed from being a servant to being Ghirahim’s mate and that left the Skyloftians in peace)

(Breath of the Wild) Adrian is a young zora that resides in Zora’s Domain. Still working on this AU.

Stardew Valley AU: An uncertain Adrian has quit his job at Joja Corp once he read his deceased Grandpa’s letter. So he moved to Critter Craze, the farm that was left to him in Stardew Valley! There he’ll make some great friends, fall in love with Sebastian and work to bring the old farm back to its former glory!

Pokémon AU: Adrian started his journey with his partner Pokemon. A Ralts, later a Gardevoir, named Shad and an Eevee, later Sylveon, named Lyric. His home region is Unova, but he’s traveled all over. Might settle down in Galar with his boyfriend, Piers. Ship name is PastelPunkShipping.

My Hero Academia AU: Orphaned at a young age and made fun of by the other orphans for his supposes useless quirk, Adrian was kidnapped by Kurogiri and Shigaraki for the healing aspects of said quirk. His quirk is called Healing Karma. As he heals, he takes the wounds of those he heals. Serious wounds can cause him to pass out between a few hours or even says. He’s shipped with Shigaraki.

Predator AU: He’s a young college student, age 21, and was reluctantly talked into taking a cruise with his roommates, who he thought were his friends. Nevertheless, he went. Bringing a bag of books with him to keep him occupied. Once the ship had ported, they went to explore. Adrian, not paying attention, separates from them and was left behind. He is soon hunted by a Yautja named Na’jiir.. not as prey.. but as something else~

#about Adrian #to be edited frequently #probably lol

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skelesnow · 2 years

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Tentatively reviving this blog :D Hello! This is an indie Sans RP blog :D

Rules and Muse pages are under read more (for mobile users)!

Rules;;

If you want me tag something, please tell me.There will be no graphic images and such on here. Only fanart of undertale and my art (with occasional aesthetic pictures such as space) will be reblogged time to time.

Please tell me if you are not comfortable with gore or any elements which we may rp. I don’t want to make you uncomfortable with headcanons and plots which contains gore or angst. //Also, I can’t rp some themes if my mood is down so please don’t rush me for replies.

Take all the time you need to reply! Really, real-life comes first so don’t stress out. I don’t care if it takes months for you to reply! I can wait!! (And I expect you to show me the same patience in return!)

I will not remind you to reply. Ever. However, I will not assume it’s dropped permanently so I will give it time to be picked up. (So feel comfortable and reply at your own pace!)

IC =/= OOC. What he says or does are his actions, not mine. Our opinions differ. I’m not my muse.

The sins of roleplaying are not acceptable. (Godmodding and all that stuff.)

I am cool with roleplaying nsfw themes (torture, gore..that stuff) It will be tagged with [insert here] tw and may be under read more.

I will not roleplay incest. I will not ship Sans with any character under 20.

Do not force sexual acts on my muse.

Tag me in your replies with my tracked tag ‘skelesnow’. It will make my life a lot easier.You can also mention me!

IM should stay out of character unless we talk about it. But I’m cool with IC IM. Just tell me first.

Icons and gifs I use are mine. Please do not use my icons, thank you.

I don’t mind how you format your reply! Everyone is unique in their own way so don’t worry about it.

Multi-verse. Every character have their own universe which is different from others if it’s not talked between muns or specified.

I accept asks from anyone but I will only roleplay with mutuals for now. (Also, please tell me if you are a side-blog and followed me from personal!) However, I can still be selective with which mutuals I will roleplay with. Also, I reserve the right to not answer a message or reply to a starter..

Submit will not be opened. Instead, tag me/mention in a separate post to show me things.

Hate will not be tolerated.

Regarding Sans and roleplayed related things;;

W.D Gaster was his father in this verse. However, this Sans knows fully timelines are different and that his Gaster is forever gone. Same with other characters. Nothing will be assumed, no worries.

Sans has high hp and level after defeating the human. This also means he can bring himself to hurt others more easily. Beware.

Reset/Save/Load functions does not work on his timeline. If you are a friend, he will warn you about it and keep an eyesocket out for ya.

About;;

Name: Sans Serif (He also uses Sans Roman. Never call him Sans Aster.)

Title: The Defeater of Seventh, given for murdering that brat the success of stopping the human.

Nicknames: Wishes (given by his best friend), Smol (given by mun, will not be used in interactions -probably- but on ooc posts referring to him), The Defeater (preferred nickname, most used by the monsters from his timeline), Champs.

Age: 21 (in his species’ years)

Sexual Orientation: ??? He has no idea

Height: Currently 3'9, however when his condition flares up, he is back at 2'3.

2'3. (was 4'6 before melting and in current verse, can recover up to 3'9 in main)

Species: Skeleton/ Monster

Family: Wing Ding Aster - father- unknown

Times New Roman - mother- deceased

Papyrus - brother- deceased

Skills/Talents:

*Uses blue magic in attacks and yellow magic if it’s a rare, personal business. Relies on Karma/Karmic Retribution, which is a poison like effect through his Perseverance.

*Uses green magic to an extent (only healing abilities).

*Can jump between timelines. (Mostly used to meet Frisk at their pacifist timeline)

*Can summon 30 blasters at once max.

*Science + Law Major.

*Can /shortcut/. Better when there is contact, otherwise it drains his magic reserve faster.

*Can see others’ stats.

*Can jump between past and near future during battle, cutting from one attack to other to confuse the enemy.

*Can cook well.

Jobs: The king’s right hand. Mentor of the new head of the royal guard. The judge.

History;; (TW: Needles, Murder, Experiments, Death)

Sans is a skeleton, living in the underground with his kind since humans banished monsters after winning the fight. In his timeline, he is the first son of two brilliant scientists: W. D Aster and T. N. Roman, having green defensive magic. He had lost his mother too early to have a clear memory of her. After they lost her, Aster took care of both him and his brother Papyrus but he was an idealist who refused to leave the work.. so the skelebros spent most of their childhood in lab. As the big brother, Sans had to make some sacrifices. He had to partake in some experiments and that’s where his power was born.

To make him powerful, his magic was altered; green magic splitted into blue and yellow but also splitting the original Sans into two entities: Justice and Patience. They were both Sans but different. Patience claimed the name Sans as Justice did not interfere until much later.

With his intelligence and natural talent, Sans soon was found more useful as a lab partner than a test subject. He joined Alphys and Aster in their researches. Like his mother, and now his father as royal scientist, there was an expectation that he would become the royal scientist in future.— Until Aster made the mistake of pulling Papyrus into his innocent experiments. Sans had attempted to kill Aster, Aster fell to core and thus the core accident happened. Sans burnt down the lab, with all his own projects inside, and gave up on the “royal” part of the science, took his brother with him and moved to the town far away from Hotland: Snowdin.

They were happy. Even Justice, with the new job he found in Royal Court. However, Justice’s existence was kept hidden from Papyrus. His young brother was a bundle of joy and he was enjoying their new life despite the unfortunate events that led up to that. Even when the Flowey’s terror reign began, he managed to hold himself together. He had only the snippets of that awful groundhog day. The only thing he knows for sure is that THAT TALKING FLOWER WILL BE SORRY WHEN SANS FINDS HIM.This continued until a being with stronger determination came and killed his brother. Sans could not stop them, could not save Papyrus from this fate he did not deserve. Even a bit.

At the judgement hall, with the determination pill he took recklessly and ready to fight until the end, he managed to hold on for a long time. But the defeat was inevitable and when he dodged an attack, being so mocking about it, he almost took the second one. This is the point where his story deviates from the no mercy run. He had been saved by a pacifist!Frisk who jumped to his timeline right in time, and he defeated the seventh human, for once and for all. He asked Frisk if they could reset their timeline and bring back everyone… It was not possible, Frisk had no power over any timeline that’s not theirs. And Sans tried to kill them, to force them to reset in a way. He did not succeed.

Sans became a hero for the monsters that day, and a symbol of peace with Frisk when they worked out their problems and become as close as siblings, almost. Monsters were respecting him and the kind even offered him a position he might desire. Sans..did not want it. He had lost many great friends, and his only family. He spread the dust of his dear brother on his favorite item, his racecar bed, and spent most of his days being in denial. Only times he spent outside was to help Frisk in some matters and Sans continued to use his magic excessively.. which led to his body melt..from the endless fight with the human, the pill and the sudden level-up, he could not maintain his form.

His body was looking no longer skeletall (one final pun before his life goes downfall) and he could not stabilize the melting alone. He asked help from Alphys, desperately trying not to become an amalgamate (which he learnt about after this incident and the possibility of becoming a being which will suffered forever still horrifies him). Thanks to Alphys’ help, he stopped losing more substance/magic.. yet the damage was done. His height, which was 4’ 8 before the incident, was lowered to 2’ 3. His hands were missing bones or looked nothing like a hand supposed to look most of the time. He was never solid, always melting be it unnoticeable or actually concerning. He managed not to get many questions about his condition from monsters, although curious or concerned glances were always a thing.

Sans is not okay. Both physically and mentally. His emotions are unstable despite his perfect acting and control over it when Frisk visits him. The seventh soul has not destroyed the barrier, due to time shenanigans concerning the time gap between Pacifist verse where Frisk is from and theirs. He often needs injection to stabilize his magic thus the melting, so he always has syringes around -hidden from anyone else-. He melts more when he is unstable emotion-wise or magic-wise and he may get shorter or less skeletal depending on the damage. Currently, there is no cure to his condition.. and Sans is making it worse on purpose as a punishment for failing his brother, by using his magic despite it is forbidden until he recovers //at least to some extent and it will take a few years to get to that point//.

[[This is the start of the main verse, The Defeater of The Seventh. The blog’s current verse and alternate verses are in Verses page.]]

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