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fxtalitygod · 6 months

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VIII. ~Survival~

Summary: You were determined to survive longer than anyone, even if you were set to marry him.

Genre: Historical AU, angst, mature, suggestive, arranged-marriage

Warnings: Dark themes, gore, graphic imagery, theme/depictions of horror, swearing/language, suggestive, pet names (Little Flower used 5-6x) implied harsh parenting {on Sukuna's end), mentions of adult murder, implications of impregnating, implied Stockholm Syndrome, images/depictions of dead bodies (both human and animal), child death/murder, character death(s), slight misogynistic themes (if you squint), NOT PROOFREAD YET (sorry ;-;)

Word Count: 6.5k

A/N: For starters, I want to clarify that I am choosing to purposely not mention the names of the twins. Although this makes it difficult on my end, I wanted you, the reader, to decide on the names of your choosing while reading.

P.S. This is the longest chapter I have written. Sorry it took so long but I hope it proves well and worth the wait. (╥﹏╥)

JJK Mlist•Taglist Rules• • Pt.I • Pt. II • Pt. III • Pt. IV • Pt. V • Pt. VI • Pt.VII • Pt. VIII • Pt. IX

You could see the fire, smell the blood, and hear their screams as they begged for mercy. They cried out for their children and loved ones whose bodies were now burning in the roaring flames, reduced to cinders and ashes. Those who threatened to charge were killed before they could make contact, their body contorting in ways the human form was incapable of, causing cries of pure agony as they were left to bleed out in their mangled state– they were left to suffer in their pain as the life slowly drained out of them. If a suffering soul was fortunate, the fire would catch them aflame and kill them faster, or debris would land in a fatal spot or crush them whole to end their misery.

Viewing the demolished structures and flaming bodies, both dead and alive, was a petrifying view– yet you felt nothing. Your breath was methodical, your expression blank, your body unmoving. Pity and remorse were thrown out the window– fear and anguish had long vanished; however, anger and resentment lingered like a tiny flickering flame that continued to grow with each crumble and cry that could be heard.

Although your exterior appearance seemed calm and collected, your heartbeat said otherwise as it accelerated, pounding against your chest so hard you could eventually drown out the hollars of distress with its rapid thumping.

“Mama, look!” Two voices sounded.

Your breath hitched as the familiar calls rang through your head. The pounding in your chest quickened and strengthened when the footsteps got closer. Hearing their giggles and whispers caused your form to tense– not having the strength to say or do anything. How would you explain your current position? How would you tell them tha-

“Mama, are you alright?”

You snapped out of your daydream to see you were in front of the stream, taking care of your personal tasks, this chore being the cleansing of garments. The query of when you arrived there was unknown, but you would assume it had been for way longer than you should have resided in that area. The dreams you would endure during the solace of night, despite those nights being anything but comforting, had begun bleeding into the day and becoming more prevalent and gruesome. It was becoming quite the distraction.

"Mama?"

Before you could allow your thoughts to consume you, you focused your attention on your son and daughter, who were awaiting your reply with innocent eyes. Yeah, their virtue never ceased to amaze you. They were too good for this world– their empathy brought light to your soul that you believed had burnt out long ago– pride and joy.

You looked at your twins with an awaiting gaze as you watched their expressions turn into excitement at the realization they had caught your attention. You blinked once before being met with a piece of parchment littered with ink. It did not take long to realize that the twins had made you something in their short time away. Blinking up at the two, you gave them a fond grin before looking back down at the material. Upon viewing the parchment, you saw an image of what you assumed to be an image of a bird, and next to the picture was a small note.

" To show gratitude to our dearest mother," you read aloud before holding the small gift to your chest, "Thank you, my loves, it is lovely."

The joy on their faces from the small compliment warmed your heart, referring to your previous statement of them being too good for this world. There were moments when you could not believe that the twins were a product of you and Sukuna– that was a reoccurring thought you had often. They were, without doubt, your most significant and last blessing as things around the temple had not been going as smoothly as they once had been the first few years you resided in it, and it was clearly starting to take a toll on everybody, including you.

"Mama, guess what we learned today?" Your son exclaimed excitedly, causing you to jump a little, not expecting the sudden outburst of enthusiasm.

"Was it penmanship because the both of you are getting better. Have you been practicing like I have told you to?" You joked, poking at their bellies, causing them to giggle.

"No, Mama, Father taught us about Jujutsu!" your daughter shouted enthusiastically.

"Hey, I wanted to tell her," the boy pouted.

"Sorry," your little girl apologized as she turned to look at her brother with an apologetic look.

The sibling tried to look upset, not wanting to give in quite yet, but when he turned around to look at his sister's guilty expression, he launched to hug her. If you had said it twice, you were to state it a third time– the world did not deserve this pair– you could not stress that enough.

"Did he now?" you breathed, your anxiety slowly creeping to the back of your neck like it did so often.

You were aware of the agreement you made with Sukuna all those years ago, and as of things so far, you both were holding up to your ends of the deal. The twins continued to be educated under your supervision and occasionally your attendant. Your little girl and boy were now at the ripe age of six, at which they would begin manifesting their cursed energy, so they were now taking lessons under their father's supervision– that notion made you apprehensive of your deal.

As you previously mentioned, things were not going as smoothly as they once were. Your village has become slightly non-compliant recently. The traditional wedding ceremonies had stopped a little over a year ago as families started refusing to hand over their kin to Sukuna. Despite the disrespect, Sukuna had no care as he had plenty of women to satisfy him; however, to say that he was taking the rebellion lightly would be a complete lie. Over the last few years, more guards were posted for precautionary reasons. Nothing major had happened yet, only the occasional distant and muffled voices chanting in protest.

With such circumstances, emotions were running high, and the crowd only seemed to get bigger as the days passed. You could admit that some days were worse than others, but it did not change the fact that these events could cause a catastrophic resolution at the hands of your husband. Viewing the situation, there was no question that Sukuna would be more occupied than usual; however, it was not amid meetings or trivial tasks but with his children instead.

Sukuna could hardly be viewed as a legitimate father but rather a mentor– a cruel one based on the round, tear-stained cheeks that would walk into the garden after they had spent their designated time with their dad. The only children who seemed the slightest bit content with their learnings were your son and daughter. Your twins have not been training for long, but they had outlasted most other kids regarding their spirits breaking. The first day your little boy and girl had left to meet with Sukuna, you could not help but feel nervous; however, when they came back, they were all giggles and smiles as they told you of their time with the man they call father. To say you were shocked was an understatement, but despite that astonishment, you were simply glad they left a good impression and walked out unscathed, their spirits still intact.

"So, have your studies with your father come to fruition yet?" You asked, not thinking of your wording as the question effortlessly slipped from your tongue.

"Come to fruition?" your son repeated, looking at his sister to see if she understood the meaning of your words.

Despite your children being clever, they were still young and naive, and that naivety could not help but make you laugh gently as you watched them whisper to each other as they tried to decipher the saying. They paused in their little hushed conversation at your breathy giggle, flustered as they looked at you, hoping you would grant them the knowledge they wanted.

"Mama, stop laughing. What does it mean?" the two whined in sync as they looked at you with awaiting eyes.

"Alright," you managed to say between your little fits of giggles, "It means to succeed in the progression of a goal. In this case, did you reach the intended goal of your lessons today?"

Your twins thought over your words for a minute before a look of realization washed over their faces. The two looked at one another to make sure the other understood, finding they were both on the same page before turning to your now-awaiting gaze. Smiles were once again plastered to their expressions of proudness.

"Not exactly," your daughter stated.

"What do you mean, 'not exactly'?" you questioned with a raised brow as you looked for an answer.

"Well...we do not have cursed energy yet, but Father said it was okay because we will..." Your son trailed off before looking at his sister for assistance, trying to remember the exact words Sukuna had used.

"Manifest!" your daughter shouted in revelation after a moment of thought.

"Oh yes, manifest! He said it was okay because 'we will manifest our cursed energy soon enough,'" your son finished, ignoring the distant whispers and tiny gasps that had suddenly emerged from the surrounding women and children.

"And you both will, I am sure of that– my intuition is never wrong," a deep voice resonated behind the twins.

You froze as you looked up to see Sukuna looking down at you, a proud grin on his face as he let the words settle. Your smile had long disappeared, your lips forming into a tight line as you met his gaze. His presence was not what had upset you as you had grown familiar with his company and unexpected visits, but rather the fact that you knew he was right.

"Father!" the twins shouted, bowing before going in to hug his legs, looking up at him with their innocent doe-like eyes that shone the color of your own hues, little flecks of what seemed to be crimson could also be seen if the light hit them just right.

Your heart stopped for a second as you watched your four-armed companion freeze on the spot at the sudden attention. Although you knew Sukuna could not lay a hand upon his children due to the contents of the pact you had made with him, it did not eliminate the uneasiness you had, worried of the thought he would grow to distaste them. The curse-user was not a man of tenderness nor liked to be presented with such fondness, especially from his offspring. There was no room for weaklings in his realm, in hid brigade of suitable heirs.

You sit there, waiting for his reaction, chewing on your lip to the point it draws a small amount of blood. The man stood stiff, looking down at the two smaller beings that clung to his legs in a warm greeting before moving to bend down, causing your heart to spike in rhythm. The questions flooded your brain once more like they often did when it involved your significant other's actions. Sukuna took a set of his arms, placing one on each twin's back before meeting their eye level.

"Did I ever indulge either of you with the story of how I found out about your mother's conceiving of the both of you?" Sukuna asked, an arched brow with a devious smile as he switched eye contact from one twin to the other.

"No," your son replied honestly, curiosity gleaming in his eyes.

With that short answer, Sukuna looked at you, a mischievous glint in his eyes before redirecting his focus on his kids once more.

"I knew that your mother would one day bear the fruit of her fertility, but there was one particular evening where I could sense an odd presence. I immediately called upon your mother, and when I was met with her physique, I could tell she was with child. It would have been unnoticeable, but my perception is unlike the average man. Looking at your mother, I could see her stomach was softer and slightly rounder, her ankles somewhat swollen, and her breasts enlarged."

You held back the bile rising in your throat as your husband explained his side of the story you knew all too well, remembering the exact events that led up to that day. His vulgar description of the event sickened you to the core.

"Your mother was unaware of her condition, but I was. The moment I felt her stomach, I could feel the presence of not one but two essences in her womb. I remember the look on her face when I told her– pure shock."

Sukuna's words offended you because pure shock was an understatement. You were undeniably mortified that day, but you would never admit that to your children. For their happiness's sake, you were willing to push the bitter memories of your pregnancy aside. They did not need to know your previous disdain for them– you had not even met them yet. What they did not know could not hurt them.

"How could you sense both of our essences?" Your daughter questioned, tilting her head as Sukuna focused his attention on her.

"Always the curious one, aren't you?" Sukuna noted, a teasing grin forming on his face.

"Mama says it is always best to stay curious because you will never learn anything new if you are too stubborn or scared to keep asking questions."

"Did she now?" Sukuna's grin grew wider as he drew his attention back to you, "And what do you believe that is a lesson of?"

"Fearlessness?" your daughter answered hesitantly.

"Close, but not quite," Sukuna started, "She is teaching you confidence."

"Is that not the same thing, Father?" your daughter questioned again.

"Not exactly, my child," The curse-user paused, looking at you for a fleeting moment before continuing, "being fearless is alright in certain circumstances– something as frivolous as a mouse is something to lack fear of, but there are certain things you should fear. Fear, my child, is what keeps you alive; however, it can be crippling at times. It is the confidence to overcome those fears that lets you survive."

"Why have you come here, Sukuna?" you suddenly asked, becoming tired and uncomfortable with his lingering presence. You knew that the man had not come for idle conversation and to share invasive stories nor explain your teachings.

Had your twins been any older, they would have caught onto your passive aggression as you addressed their father, staring at him blankly as he drew his attention to you. You were aware of the line you were crossing, aware of the hostility you were presenting in the presence of your children, despite the obliviousness of it, but with high tension in the temple and his sudden visit, you felt you had every right to feel uneased. Sukuna's gaze turned from teasing mischief into a grave look.

"Well, Y/n, I wish not to sully our bonding with grave matters," the man spoke, returning your passive-aggressive tone, "we'll speak of it later."

"So why did you come, father?" Your boy asked, looking up at the tall man.

"Must I have a reason to visit my kin?" Sukuna teased.

"Well, we do not see you much outside of lessons," your daughter jumped in with her own comment.

"Observant as well, huh?" Sukuna huffed, pausing for a moment before speaking up once more, "I was wondering if you both would accompany me on a hunt?"

That question caused their little orbs to light up, their little heads turning to you, silently begging for your approval. Looking at their pleading eyes, you could not say no, giving a nod of approval. If they were cheerful before, they were exhilarated now. These kids were to be the death of you if a simple pair of puppy dog eyes could make you cave like this, and you were okay with that.

"Can Mama come too?

Your blood ran cold at the mention of your name. There was no particular reason to be troubled, but at this point, it was a habit for these tense feelings to rise whenever your name was mentioned. So, as you look at your supposed significant other, you could feel yourself about to explain how you had other activities to attend to.

"I do not see why not."

Now, that was unexpected.

The words you were going to speak paused in your throat, swallowing them down when your little boy and girl rushed up to you after hearing Sukuna's approval, hugging you as they tugged on your hands to stand. What was he playing at? Despite the inquiry of his intentions, you had to push it aside as you saw the thrilled look on your children's faces–they most likely wanted to show off what they had learned while spending time with their father. They always returned with smiles of pride after spending time with their dad. You would give up your life to see them smile at you like that for as long as you lived, so you followed them as they walked beside Sukuna despite your own apprehension.

Time slowly passed as you trekked quietly through the nearby woods, watching Sukuna's movement as he led the three of you through the brush, pausing when something caught his eye. It took only a moment for a bow to appear in his hand, but when you had expected him to use it, he motioned over to your son, giving the child the weapon. Every motherly instinct told you to confiscate the bow, but quickly reminded yourself of your pact both in regards that Sukuna was bound to protect your children from harm and that you had accepted he could use any training methods he deemed necessary– this being one of them.

Sukuna was crouched the lowest he could get, arms hovering over your boy's form, guiding his son while speaking in a low voice as the two focused on the prey ahead. Looking into the small clearing, you could see a few grazing rabbits, clueless and defenseless to the threat before them, nibbling on the dewy grass. The bow's snap and the sight of an impaled rabbit caused you to return from your light daze, turning over to see your son smiling in excitement.

"Did you see that, Mama? I did it!" the boy beamed, maintaining a hushed voice.

You gave your son a warm smile, nodding in reassurance before watching your son switch places with your daughter. The rabbits that previously remained in the clearing had run off, but one straggler emerged from bushes, unaware of what had occurred, clueless about its impaled companion. In a mere few moments, the creature suffered the same fate as the previous one, bringing joy to your little girl. She turned to you with the same smile as her brother's– it frightened you.

You had no doubt that you loved your children for who they were. You loved their innocence, passion, and joyful nature, but a realization had dawned upon you in these moments– one that made your heart drop to your stomach.

"Mama, you try!" your daughter called out, grabbing your hand as she led you toward a better spot to shoot from, that spot closer to Sukuna.

Their reason for upbringing would be to take their father's place, to be his heir, and Sukuna was not giving that role to a charitable and naive son or daughter. Things seemed pleasant for now, and your children might keep their nature through adulthood, but one thing was for sure. Whether they stayed that way or not, they would feel justified in their actions– believe what they were doing was good because that is what their father was teaching them, and you were enabling it.

"Darling, I'm not sure that it would be wise for me-"

"I think it is a marvelous idea," Sukuna interrupted, standing from his crouched position and grabbing your waist.

You felt the man's hands slither up your body, messing with the material of your clothing before touching your flesh. Your skin burned unpleasantly as his hands settled, a faux attempt to adjust your form when you were capable; however, with your twins present, you would not dare cause a stir. Looking at the clearing, there was nothing seemingly there as all the critters that previously inhabited it ran off.

"There's nothing for me to target, so maybe we should end this," you suggested, trying to excuse yourself from this activity, keeping a low tone.

"If nothing is there, why do you whisper, Little Flower?" Sukuna responded in a hushed voice, feeling his smirk form as his face rested against your cheek.

Before you could respond, the sound of fluttering was heard. Without thought, you lifted the bow's angle, shooting the arrow into the air– a thud sounded shortly after as whatever you had shot hit the ground. Looking down, you could see a bird skewered with an arrow, blood pooling from its limp body and staining the grass surrounding it.

"Mama, you did it!" the twins exclaimed, thrilled you had participated.

Their sounds of excitement were drowned out by the ringing of your ears as your gaze lingered on the deceased animal. What had you done? Yes, you had viewed death without so much as a flinch, but you were not the one with blood on your hands. You were unaware you could perform such an action– you had never held a weapon before, only a mere kitchen knife.

It disturbed you.

How did you kill the helpless creature so instinctively? So effortlessly? The worst part is...

It felt good.

The ringing eventually subsided as the bow settled to your side, turning your head toward the two-faced man you called 'husband' and handed it to him. Thankfully, Sukuna took the item with no smug remark or wicked grin, giving you one of his infamous blank looks before moving his gaze toward the kids, motioning for them in the direction of the temple, settling one of his hands at the small of your back as you all started the walk back.

Making the hike back, you settled on your earlier realization regarding your children. You would love them until the end of time, and you had no doubt about that; whether they were inherently good or bad– you would love them. But now, as you continue to think, all you can think about is the future. Where would you and your twins be standing in the years to come? What kind of life would you three indulge in if you were all to live? How many bodies would have to pile under your feet before you were guaranteed genuine safety for you and them?

For the years under the same roof as Sukuna, you had been focusing on your mother's words, the promise you had made to her.

"I promise I will survive– longer than anyone."

Your life had been summed up by that promise. So far, you have kept faithful to it because you have been surviving. From your wedding day to your pregnancy, to the many inspections you attended, all up until now, as you approached the temple, you have been surviving. You played all the right cards to get you here and made all the right sacrifices to keep your children alive– what more could you ask for? You were alive and breathing along with your children, and that is all that truly mattered, right?

No.

You may have been playing this game of survival and have been successful thus far, but there was one thing you had failed to do...

Live, you had failed to truly live.

You have played your part in your husband's sick game. You married him, gave him your purity, gave him children, and now you were done. You were more than aware of the pact you had made with your husband, but almost every contract had a loophole whether it could be seen or not.

"We are relocating."

Your heart rate accelerated as Sukuna bent down to whisper those words into your ear, the words taking a moment to register. Was it out of fear? Anger? Possibly both? No. It was excitement. You had given your word that you would never leave the temple unless it was under Sukuna's supervision and say so. Unless he accompanied you outside those gates, you would remain here; however, you had never given your word to stay by his side.

You had given your word to stay at the temple.

The curse-user had just given your confirmation of freedom without being aware he was doing so.

"May I ask why?" you dug, trying to keep your composure to not seem suspicious, as if he could tell what you were thinking if you had shown the slightest emotion.

"I have simply grown bored of this place, plus I have got what I needed from these people, and they all stand right here before me," Sukuna explained, the last part of his statement being clear that he was referring to you and the twins.

"Where would that leave my village?"

Now, that was a genuine question. You were not as concerned for your village but rather your family instead. The four-armed beast of a man was not known for leaving a town so quietly– you had heard plenty of notorious stories from survivors to prove that.

"What of it?"

"Will it remain in one piece, or will it be returned to the dirt?"

"That entirely depends on them, Little Flower."

The answer was vague– it was neither a confirmation nor a denial, but you could understand the meaning behind his words. For the sake of your family, you hoped that the village elders would not perform anything stupid. You hoped they could shove their egos aside and let Sukuna leave the town with what minimal disturbance he was willing to make. Everything you have worked so hard to achieve would be ruined without their cooperation.

Approaching the temple, you could not help but feel the delight swell in your chest. After years of this torment, this unjustified punishment, you are finally going to be free. You have survived, and now you will live. The journey has been difficult, but now you will achieve the tranquility and normalcy you deserve. Your children will have the chance to live a standard and carefree life, unlike the competitive and tiring one they would achieve with their father.

It was finally over.

Arriving at the temple did not feel as bitter this time, watching your children running to your attendant as she greeted you all, giving a respectful bow before taking off with the children, most likely heading off to eat. It was quiet as you stood in the garden; everyone else had gone to fill their appetite– it was just you and Sukuna.

"What has you smiling so brightly, Little Flower."

You had not noticed it, but you had plastered a broad, foolish grin onto your face. Usually, your partner catching this would have brought you anxiety as you thought of the right words, but you did not feel that way– quite the opposite. You were proud that he had noticed, allowing your smile to grow wider.

"I feel like a burden has been lifted off my shoulders, and I cannot wait to leave this place."

"I am glad I could bring such relieving news and bring a smile to your face," Sukuna responded, smiling down at you before taking your chin between his fingers and bending down, "Once you put the children to sleep, come seek me out as we have much more to discuss."

You could only smile stupidly, nodding and allowing Sukuna to kiss you before heading to your children. You did not care what the two-faced monster had to share with you, but you would indulge him because this would be the last time you would ever have to.

You were free.

"Oh, hello, Y/n-sama! We were just finishing our meals. Should I fix you something as well?" your attendant offered, keeping a light-hearted tone.

The young woman had grown more confident with you over the years. The two of you had grown quite close after the birth of your children– she was the only person you full-heartedly trusted with your kids. Maybe you would take her with you in your escape; she was far too good to serve ungrateful and bitter women.

"No, thank you, I am not that hungry; however, I have grown rather tired, meaning it is time for bed."

"Awwwwww," you twins whined in unison, looking at your attendant with puppy dog eyes, hoping she could convince you, only to receive a shake of her head.

The twins stood begrudgingly, approaching your awaiting stance, giving you the same desperate eyes. You gave your own silent response as you offered a warm smile and a quick shake of your head before having them follow you down the halls. In any other scenario, you would have in, but things were different now. Your children need to be well-rested for the upcoming events. You were going to give them the life they deserved.

Arriving at their sleep quarters, you slid the door open, allowing the twins in first before following. Before closing the door, you took a peek out into the hallway to make sure no one was approaching. Once you deduced nobody was coming, you slowly and quietly slid the door shut, quick to approach your kids' bedside.

"Mama, do we have to go to bed?" your daughter whined.

"Yeah, do we really have to?" your son followed.

You could not help but lightly chuckle at their resistance to sleep. Your heart filled with warmth as you remembered sharing a similar moment with your mother. There were many occasions they reminded you of yourself, and you could not wait to see more of those similarities manifest when you leave this temple. You could not wait to give them a regular and well-deserved life.

"Yes, you both have to rest. You two need to preserve your energy for the days to come."

That statement piqued their interest, their faces perking up with intrigue.

"What is to come, Mama?" the twins sounded in unison like they did so often in these moments. Sometimes, it was almost as if they shared the same mind.

"Well, soon enough, you will get to meet your grandparents," you whispered, "you cousins, aunts, and uncles, all from Mama's side of the family."

"Really?!" the two shouted, settling down when you gestured for them to lower their voices.

"Yes, but do not tell your father, it is..." you trailed, picking your words carefully, "a surprise visit just for the three of us, and I do not want him to feel left out."

There was no doubt that you despised Sukuna in every sense of the word, but you did not wish for your children to hate him. Believe it or not, you wanted your twins to paint a good picture of their father, and whether that picture remained clean was up to Sukuna himself– you would not tarnish his name for him.

"Okay, Mama, we promise we will not tell." your son spoke for the two of them, his sibling nodding in turn as she motioned to seal her lips.

You smiled, whispering a small thank you before kissing the top of their foreheads and letting them rest. You stood quietly, blowing out the candles illuminating the room before leaving. Once you stepped foot into the hallway, you were startled to see a guard, a familiar one at that, though he had clearly aged with time.

"Y/n-sama, I have been instructed to take you to your sleeping chambers," the male spoke before swiftly turning on his heel to lead you to your room.

The man's voice was cold and almost distant as he spoke to you, but his voice was familiar. You were acquainted with most of the staff within the temple, but you could not remember where you had met him in particular, though he seemed familiar and significant. Your face contorted as your mind pondered, trying to recognize his face in your personal timeline, but nothing came to mind.

"Your wedding night," the guard spoke suddenly, noticing your expression of thought, "I held and guarded the door during your wedding night."

You thought back to your wedding day, and it suddenly hit you. The guard was the same one Sukuna had forced to watch the consummation of your marriage. You quickly grew flustered at the memory, clearing your throat before speaking.

"I recall now," you responded, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Are you happy, Y/n-sama?" another unshakable tone as he questioned you.

Why was he asking this?

"Yes, I'm happy."

You did not know what this man was playing at, but you did not want to fall into any traps, so you gave the preferred answer when this question was presented to you on many occasions.

"Even though you have suffered all these years, bearing and raising his offspring?"

"Excuse me?" you grimaced at the guard's words.

"Nothing, I am sorry, I have overstepped my boundaries. I will leave you now," the man uttered, leaving you at the doorway to your sleeping quarters.

You narrowed your eyes, staring as the male's figure grew smaller in the distance. What did he gain from that interaction? No matter– it was no longer your problem to deal with. Collecting yourself, you entered the room and immediately faced Sukuna.

"Come and close the door. We must speak of these urgent matters in private," Sukuna muttered as he blankly stared at the wall in front of him.

You did not question the man and slid the door closed, approaching him as he turned to you. Before you could speak, Sukuna placed a pair of hands on your shoulders, looking into your eyes. His gaze held no emotion you could directly name, but you could sense an urgency in his tone as he spoke to you.

"We leave tonight. The others have been informed and are gathering their belongings– I advise you to do the same."

"What?! Now?! Sukuna, what is going on that you are not telling anyone?" you urged, staring at him with wide eyes.

"Now is no time to be questioning me, Y/n. Hurry, we are leaving shortly."

"No."

The word slipped out without thought. You did not care when you left because your plans would not change, but your partner was acting strangely, and you could not help but be curious as to why. The curiosity is what led you to stand there motionless as your husband stared you down.

"Stubborn as always, I see," the curse-user muttered, "Fine, you want to know, huh? We made a pact, and I'm upholding the bargain. You told me to protect those children, right? Well, for their interest, we are leaving, so be grateful."

You stood there silently, looking into Sukana's unwavering gaze.

"What is going on?" you repeated the question.

"Your village plans to lay siege, and we are leaving to not get caught in the firing radius."

That explained the tensity and whispers among the temple. That explained the extra protection. Everything now made sense and you could not help the feeling of something rising up your throat.

Laughter.

You laughed uncontrollably, trying to cover your mouth to muffle the outburst, but to no avail. Nothing about the situation was logically funny, but you could not control yourself.

"After years of torment, they only now decide to lay siege?" you cackled, "And the best part is that Ryomen Sukuna is fleeing with his tail between his legs."

You should have seen what was to come next when you made that last statement, feeling your hair being tugged to look up at the man you had insulted. Your laugh quickly subsided, swallowing the lump in your throat as you stared into his orbs. You had crossed a line this time, but for once, you were not scared of the intimidation; however, what had shocked you was Sukuna smashing his lips against yours.

"I am the most feared man in Japan– I have no reason to be scared, at least for myself. I am doing this for us and our creation because I love you, Little Flower."

"You do not love me. You love what I can do for you, Sukuna."

"I see where our children have gotten their observance." Sukuna joked, "But you are not entirely wrong. However, that does not change the fact we are leaving right here and now so collec-"

"AHHHHHHHHHHH"

The deformed man paused mid-sentence at the high-pitched scream, storming out of the room to see the commotion. You wasted no time in following him, walking down the hall before being met with the stench of blood. Had one of the pregnant wives gone into labor? Was someone injured? Or was...

Before you could finish that last thought, you were met with the sight of a lifeless body surrounded by its own red fluid. It was disturbingly familiar, and that was because it was the body of the guard that had escorted you earlier. You were shocked at his mangled state, his face just barely beyond recognition, but before you could allow the shock to settle in, another sound of screams was heard in the opposite direction.

Without thought, you bolted in the direction the screams came from. You flew past those blank walls faster than you knew you were capable of before landing at the sight of another body surrounded by women. It was your attendant, her face frozen in fear, her body almost in the same state as the previous one. This death hit you harder than the earlier one as you covered your mouth, keeping the bile from rising up your throat.

Despite the grief and sickness you were feeling, you could only think of one thing, and that was your twins. You lingered for a second longer before running to your twin's bedroom. You had not noticed, but Sukuna trailed behind you closely as you sprinted through the temple. Your breath was running ragged, but you would be damned if you were to leave your twins behind in this gruesome mess.

You made it to the door, sliding it open and rushing in, your eyes scanning the room for your twins, but they were nowhere to be seen. Your heart hammered against her chest as you began to panic, turning to Sukuna to see that his face was once again blank as he looked into the room from the doorway. Why did he have that look on his face? It did not matter– you had to search for your children. You turned to look back into the interior room, looking up from the bedrolls to be met with the wall, and heard the sound of a scream once again, your heart dropping.

You had found your twins hanging from the wall, a message written above them that was written in their own blood.

"Bring back our daughter."

Taglist:

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#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction #jjk fanfic #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fanfic #ryomen sukuna #sukuna fanfic #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna #tw stockholm syndrome #tw death mention #tw dead body #tw suggestive #tw child murder

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number-onekidqueen · 3 months

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The Seven Times Luke Castellan Said 'I Love You'

Luke Castellan x Apollo!fem!reader

Pure angst.

3.7k words

Warnings: death, injury, insecurities, bad parenting, spoilers for Percy Jackson book series.

One.

Luke must’ve been four the first time he ever said those three words.

He’d been at preschool, and it was the second week. He’d missed mommy. He felt different to all the other kids, and there were all these really scary faces that kept popping out of bushes that no one else could see. His mommy had picked him up early when the preschool called, and taken him home to a surprise. She’d baked his favourite: choc chip cookies, and he was even allowed to drink Kool-Aid too!

“I love you, mommy!!” He’d mumbled, while he stuffed his little mouth with the baked goods, in a sugary daze.

It made him feel so much better, knowing at least he had mommy to always come home to and rely on.

If only that had been true.

Two.

He was 9 when he said that sentence for the second time.

Mom wasn’t there for him anymore.

He was scared to go to school and leave her alone, because every time he got home, she would be insane. It’s like she wasn’t there with him anymore.

She would scream so loud and her eyes would be bright green, and she’d shake him and cry, wailing about how he was going to die. Usually it would make him so disturbed he’d run into his bedroom and lock the door, hoping she wouldn’t follow.

She always did.

It was when she started to pound on his door, begging him to come out, that he’d begin to sob, shaking in fright.

He’d pray and pray to his dad in desperate tears, asking and asking him to bless his mom, to free her from this curse and to make her better again. It didn’t ever stop.

She’d still make cookies, sometimes, but she’d forget about them and leave them in for so long they’d always be burnt to cinders. She’d serve Kool-Aid too, but he’d grown out of it.

Eventually, he couldn’t stand it anymore. His mom wasn’t getting better, but worse. Her fits were getting more frequent, and Luke’s dad wasn’t doing anything to help him.

Luke couldn’t stay here a second longer.

“I love you, mum,” he whispered to her curled figure on the couch, a full backpack on his shoulder and all his childhood allowance in his pockets as he softly closed the door.

He knew they’d be better off without each other.

Three.

Luke was fourteen when he said that phrase for the third time.

He’d finally found his family.

Sure, it hurt to think of his mother, all alone in his old house, but he had two amazing, brave and funny sisters to make up for that.

Until he didn’t.

It was all such a blur.

One second, they’d just been meeting some satyr by the name of Grover, who claimed to be their protector, a safeguard back to a camp for kids like them.

They’d been on the journey, he, Thalia, Annabeth, wondering what it would be like when they got there, what would happen.

And then the cyclops had struck.

It had all gone too quickly from there. They’d been running madly, tripping through the forest scrub, their hearts pumping, their adrenaline pulsing, Grover yelling that the entrance to camp wasn’t far, that they’d be safe there and to keep going.

The cyclops was still gaining on them, and Luke was starting to feel an awful sense of dread.

Then Thalia - brave, amazing, stupid Thalia - had volunteered to fight the monster. She’d told them to run ahead, that she had the sucker and would be right behind them.

And Luke was scared and thinking of Annabeth and safety, and he agreed, he kept running.

He left her.

His sister.

He swore he blinked once, and then she was dying, crumpled on the dirt, bleeding out and groaning in pain, camp only an ironic few metres away.

None of them even had time to reach out a hand to help her before she turned golden, vanished into a great big pine tree.

Gone forever before he could say goodbye.

“I love you, Thalia,” he whispered that night, not caring that he was breaking curfew rules, getting too close to the dangerous outskirts of camp.

Not caring he was using present tense. He refused to say ‘loved.’

Because he would love Thalia forever.

Four

Luke was sixteen the fourth time he uttered those words.

After all his life he was finally at home.

He’d grown accustomed and comfortable with camp, accepting it as his home. Even though sometimes it was weird to be at a summer camp all year round, he found happiness in his new place, trying to forget about the bad things. Thalia. His mother.

He’d found peace in routine, and confidence. Chiron said he was becoming what would be the best swordsman Camp Half-Blood had seen in 300 years.

There were his friends and siblings. He had Chris and the Stolls, and all the other Hermes kids that made his cabin rowdy and feel homelike.

Then there was y/n, probably his best friend, an Apollo girl who’d healed him immediately after he got to camp and had been there for him since.

There were heaps of activities to keep him busy. Training. Capture the flag. Parties, when he was old enough.

It had been the second of one of the post-curfew parties Luke had been to, and he admitted he had drank too much. Far too much.

Things had got out of hand when an Ares boy had insulted you, someone who was lovely to everyone. He couldn’t really even remember what the boy had said, only that it enraged him and he’d only seen red after that.

It all sort of went downhill from there. He’d thrown a punch, received one, and the rest was a sweaty and jagged dance of thrown limbs.

And now he was here, replaying the events in his mind, sat on the bathroom floor of the Apollo cabin, you kneeling over him with a warm cloth. His fists clenched at the thought of that stupid boy again.

“Luke,” you whispered, and the thoughts disappeared. “Look at me so I can fix you up.”

He didn’t have to be asked twice. It gave him an excuse to openly stare at you. In this dim light, you were gorgeous. Your skin seemed to glow golden from within, which mirrored the bright warmth of your eyes, and the radiance of your hair that framed your face. It was bittersweet, making him happy yet sick with longing, especially in his drunken state, to think of how you weren’t his. I want you, he wanted to whisper. He nearly did.

“Thank you. You’re so good.” He said instead.

“I don’t know about that, but always. That’s what best friends are for,” you reassured, smiling.

His heart sank. He didn’t want you like a best friend. He wanted you to want him like he wanted you.

“Yeah,” he said offhandedly.

There was a long pause. Your touch was soft on the cuts all over him, and although it stung, it was worth it. It was finished all too soon except-

“I’m still hurt,” he tried to explain, but the words wouldn’t form, “like, my chest.”

“He got you there too? Through your shirt?”

“Yeah. Little sucker had a pocketknife and everything.”

“Ok,” you replied. The room stayed silent. Suddenly, he was confused.

“Um-“

“Yeah, sorry, I just zoned out, um-“

Your hands reached for him almost… shyly. Could it be possible that you were overthinking seeing him like this, flustered, also thinking about him like he was about you? It drew a grin to his face. He decided to play with you.

“You don’t have to treat me that delicately. I promise it doesn’t hurt that much.”

You gave a nervous laugh, your hands moving slightly faster as he lifted his arms.

And then it was time to gauge your reaction. Your eyes were certainly not on him, but his chest, and it almost seemed your cheeks had transitioned from golden to rosy. His grin turned into a smirk.

“I gather that stare is either in reaction to my amazing abs or really bad cut. Either way, take it all in,” he teased. It occurred to him later he would never have said anything remotely like this if he was sober.

“Haha, Castellan,” you said sarcastically, rolling your eyes and continuing your job. But you were smiling.

Your features were even softer closer up. It took his breath away, and he couldn’t help the words that next escaped from the confines of his heart.

“I love you,” he whispered.

You froze, midway through finishing dabbing a cut. Your eyes looked up at his, his earnest, vulnerable irises. And then you looked down at his lips. And dropping the cloth, you took his face into your hands and kissed him. It was the most exhilarating, fantastic five seconds of his life. And then you pulled away, stepping back.

“There you go. That’s probably all you wanted, since you’re drunk. You’re-you’re healed now.” You stuttered out.

And he wanted to chase you, have another kiss, try to create a proper response to that, to why he loved you, but you’d ran away from him, and he didn’t want to be snooping through someone else’s cabin, even in his state.

He was left reeling in the moonlight, stumbling back to his cabin before the harpies found him. Once he was between the sheets, his mind muddled, he found it easy to fall asleep, the image and feel of you still in his mind.

He woke up the next day, baffled that his mind could come up with a dream so lifelike. Even mad that maybe a Hypnos kid has taken note of his crush and decided to create a dream like that as a prank. What assholes.

Because you would never kiss someone like him, he knew that.

Like ever.

Five

Luke was seventeen the fifth time he said that statement.

He hadn’t known things could get so much worse.

His father, finally acknowledging him after his claiming, had sent him on a quest. Sure, it was a reused quest from Heracles, but Luke knew just how glorified and contested quests were, and so he accepted happily, choosing two of the older and more experienced campers to assist him in retrieving the golden apples from the dragon.

You were a bit offended that he hadn’t chose you, and he had no explanation that he could offer you, save for a confession. It made for a parting laced with bitterness.

The quest started off fine, and they got to their destination smoothly, but it quickly went downhill from there.

Once they were in the garden, almost immediately the dragon was alerted of their presence. It began to attack, using quick, violent manoeuvres that were hard to keep up with for even the most experienced.

Too hard for one of his quest mates, who became food for the monster’s jaws. It was a sickening, gruesome sight that Luke could never wipe from his mind.

The other quest mate became injured soon after that, and then it was Luke on his own.

At that point, even he knew the quest was lost. He was just defending himself and trying to get out alive. And so he did, with a painful scar from eye to chin as a marking of his forever defeat against the dragon.

He returned as a failure.

He was wounded, with a permanent and ugly physical memory, one of his quest mates was dead, the other also mortally wounded, and their fingers hadn’t even grazed the golden flesh of the apples. He couldn’t even finish an already done quest.

Worse was the pity.

The moment he stepped past Thalia’s tree and into camp, all he received was pity. Quiet voices, soft glances, stopped conversations, permits, excuses.

It was as if he were the dragon, and they were afraid that if they did not tread lightly he may begin roaring flames at them.

He never did.

Just like y/n never treated him with pity.

Your eyes were objective, calculating as they surveyed his wounds. Of course your words were soft, but they always were, with your perfect bedside manner. In those moments where you treated him normally, he couldn’t appreciate you more.

Worst of all probably were the nightmares. He had one awful recurring one: he’d be back in that hellish garden, the dying screams of his dead quest mate and the roaring of the dragon in his ears, the adrenaline and chase all through him, and then every camper he’d ever known would appear, surround him and shake their heads, looking at him in pity and knowing he was a failure. They would chant it, and pelt burning rocks at him, and he would run, run, run, but he could never escape it.

He couldn’t bear it one hot late July night, and slipped away under the stars. He was always calmer there, where he could put himself and his feelings into perspective.

And that’s where y/n had found him, sitting on the dew-soaked grass with his knees loosely curled to his chest.

You didn’t say anything in the beginning, just sat there beside him, breathing, stargazing too.

“I’ve seen you come out here, every night this week.” You stated, finally looking over at him. “Are the nightmares that bad?”

He nodded, gulping down the fear and tears that submerged at the thought.

“You should’ve come to me, you know we have dreamless tonic at the infirmary-“

“Yeah I know. But I deserve it, don’t I?” He asked bitterly, turning to you, “I failed and so I get to live with the consequences. The nightmares.”

“No. No, of course not. You don’t have to face consequences-“

“But I do already, don’t I? I feel like I’m not even the same at all, like I’ll never be the same again. I’ve got this stupid, disgusting scar,” he spat, jabbing at his face, “as this reminder and I’ve got to live knowing I wasn’t ever good enough to succeed and my failure led to someone’s death.”

There was silence for a while, where you gazed at him, at his eyes.

“Stop blaming yourself,” you said softly, “I won’t let you.”

“I can’t help it though,” he whispered, voice cracking, “after training for so long and everyone telling me I’m the best swordsman, I couldn’t save someone, could barely defend myself. And now they’re dead, because of me. And every time I try and forget it- I look in the mirror and see this-this scar and-“

You scooted closer, and one of your hands laid over his.

“Your scar isn’t a symbol of failure. It should never be. It means you’re brave, that you survived that dragon-“ you reached for his face, and so, so gently began to run your index finger down his scar, “-that you’ve overcome all that horror and emerged stronger.”

You cupped his cheek after you finished tracing. His heart was racing.

“And you’re still the same to me. You’re still smart, funny, brave, handsome, strong. You’re still you. Don’t let anyone take that away.”

Your hand slowly drew away from his face, but he caught it, keeping you there.

And he stared.

Stared at this beautiful, golden girl who was the best thing that had ever happened to him. He could only think of three words.

“I love you,” he whispered to you, and he slowly leaned in.

You kissed, his hands in your silky hair and yours on his strong back, and this was the most effective healing Luke had ever had.

He knew at this moment that the best he would ever be was with you.

And that would be always, he hoped.

Six.

Luke was nineteen the next time he spoke from his heart.

Things were finally getting better, but they had a long way to go. Luke would be there to see the good change come through.

Camp was normal. Demigods died, demigods lived. They got claimed, their parents ignored them for months or years. They would train for quests, row, sing at camp fires. He would teach sword classes, rowing, and in his spare time he and y/n would go to their secret spot at the lake and…. Spend some time together in private.

Flustered and a little ruffled they would return to have dinner, stargaze, play wild games of Capture the Flag.

Luke was happy enough. But he didn’t know how long this would last, this calm joy.

He couldn’t live like this, waiting in fear for the other shoe to drop with no help from his dad and the other gods.

He’d made his decisions, laid his plans, and now he waited. Waited.

Tangled in your arms, he traced shapes on your hands as you played with his hair. It was a warm environment, like the home he never had.

The nightmares never really left Luke. Well, unless you were with him.

It was many a night, after curfew, when snores were in the air that he would sneak into your cabin and join you (There were too many people in Hermes cabin for the alternative to ever happen).

And there in your bed he would stay. Sometimes you would talk. Sometimes you would make out. And sometimes you would have quiet times like this, all of each other intertwined as you were lost in comforting thoughts.

Well, you were.

Luke was lost in guilt and impossible choices. He never wanted to leave you, be apart from you. He didn’t know how he’d live without seeing you, hearing your voice. And he hated to leave you like this. But he knew you would never join him. Apollo hadn’t been great, but he hadn’t been terrible and he knew his plans would scare you. He wanted the best for half bloods. This was the only way he could think of. When he came back, surely you would understand.

“You’re so quiet,” you mumbled, from your place under his chin. “What’s wrong?”

“You know what I was thinking about?” And he made up some deep philosophical thought that the two of you quietly discussed and argued about for the next little while, the conversation drifting to other topics before you got drowsy.

“Good night,” you murmured, lifting your face to kiss his nose, scar and lips softly. You returned your head to its place, your warm lips in a smile against his neck, “see you in the morning.”

His stomach plunged, and he felt sick with guilt. He reached over for you, drawing you in for a long, passionate kiss. You, still half asleep, confusedly frowned, but settled back into him with a grin on your face. It was a goodbye, but you didn’t know that.

“I love you,” he breathed, while you fell asleep, and he swore he saw your lips turn upwards. You succumbed to sleep quickly, and it made it simple to softly slip away, escape from you.

As he passed Thalia’s tree, he turned back to look at the cabins, your cabin.

He’d run away once from a home, and it had hurt him. But it had been worth it in the end, and he didn’t regret it.

It hurt running away from this home. Was it worth leaving if it tore his heart into two? He supposed only time would tell. Fitting, giving who his new master was.

——————

And that was the last time Luke ever said I love you.

Well, there was once more.

——————————

Seven.

He didn’t know how old he was when he said that small sentence for the final time.

All he knew was he obeyed Kronos and that the gods had to be slain.

The city at least was familiar. A deep, small part of him felt almost… scared and upset that this city was being damaged.

Oh, and the people. There was a boy he hated, who was powerful and threatening. And a girl with him, who he should hate but he seemed to, well, not.

It had all unfolded so suddenly, the defeat, and suddenly he remembered bits and pieces.

He’d betrayed camp half blood, the only home that he had known, but only so the gods would pay attention to them, be better parents. But what he was doing now wasn’t what he had wanted. Not at all.

He supposed it was an easy decision to make when the boy - ….. Percy - told him to stab himself in the armpit.

He did and finally, in the deadly silence, he was himself again. He was Luke Castellan. A demigod, a child of Hermes. A lot of other things.

For a moment all he could see was the blonde girl whose name he couldn’t remember, that stared at him as he began to writhe in pain. The same blonde girl he couldn’t seem to hate, who he seemed to be soft for.

A lot of other faces stared too, who seemed to be familiar to him but he couldn’t place.

And then there was screaming. Loud, pained screams and running footsteps and a panic rose inside of him. He knew that scream, although he’d rarely heard it.

And there was you, y/n. A face and voice he instantly knew, that he would remember half-dead, which ironically reflected the place he was in now.

You were as beautiful as he remembered, even now, your face contorted, grimy, tears streaming, your hair a sweaty mess.

“No, I can heal him, I can heal him.” You sobbed, kneeling beside him and trying to staunch the bleeding which he could oddly not feel.

He hated seeing you like this. So sad, hurt, in pain. Knowing there was nothing he could do to improve it made it even worse.

He reached for your hand, squeezing it and attempting a weak smile. “I’m sorry,” he croaked, “I’m sorry for everything I ever did to you, because you never deserved it. And-“ he coughed, dust in his lungs.

“I love you.” He said, loud and clear for the world to hear. He wanted to say more, but his chest was weak.

It was only them for that moment. You dove in and kissed him, just as passionately as he had that final night. It took his breath away, and he found himself grinning, joyous, at peace.

It was a goodbye, but he didn’t know that.

#luke castellan #pjo #pjo series #luke castellan x reader #pjo show luke #luke castellan x you #pjo spoilers #percy jackson series #pjo tv show #pjo series luke #luke castellan fluff #luke castellan fic #luke castellan angst #luke castellan oneshot #luke castellan imagine #you're welcome #I hurt myself writing this #i may release some more oneshots who knows #requests open

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just-some-random-blogger · 6 months

Text

Feel Like Dying

There's nothing quite like airing out the pains and horrors of living in front of a lively fire next to someone who's not quite alive.

Astarion x Reader | 1k+ | cw: gender neutral!reader, suicidal ideation?, angst, soft!astarion, fluff, typos, etc.

A/N: I got sick and was in so much pain :D i figured writing something will help. But I couldn't finish it when I was sick, but now I did (((: YAY

Tagging: @sloanexx @amiraisgoingthruit

Pain was coursing through my being. It was a stream with an irregular flow, one moment it was calm, and another it was raging. It was fleeting then roaring. It was a pain that could not be quelled by medicine or magic, it was the sort only time could heal.

"Don't you think you should do something about that?"

I turn over my shoulder, craning my neck as the silver haired man sat down on the log beside me. I feel a bead of sweat form on my temple, "do what about it?"

"Oh, I don't know," he sighs, placing his hands on his lap, "have Shadowheart use a healing spell on you."

The fire before us crackles.

I shake my head, watching cinders fly around the orange flames. The color reminds me of the snack I took with me. I turn to my side and grab the two oranges, handing one to Astarion.

He pulls his hand away from his lap, avoiding the citrus with disgust, "oh, no, darling. None for me."

I pull the one orange away, placing it on my lap. I lean my elbows on my thighs and turn to the fruit in my hand.

I press my thumbs into the orange skin, but find myself too weak to pierce it. My arms begin to shake. I feel pain rush up my limbs. I release the pressure and sigh.

Astarion catches this. His expression softens, "a healing potion, perhaps."

"It's not the type of pain that can be healed," I tell him, "it's a different kind."

He makes a sound then speaks softly, "I am rather acquainted to pain."

I turn to him, lips tugging down, "unfortunate."

"Yes. It very much is unfortunate," he takes the orange from me, "to those I've inflicted it upon."

We both knew that's not what he meant when he said that, but neither of us point it out.

I watch as Astarion peels the orange. The smell of it tingles my nose.

He hands me a segment of the fruit. I stare at it for a moment then stare at him. His red eyes were somehow softened by the campfire, as were the curves of his cheeks and jaw.

"Well, go on," he raises the bit of orange, "I didn't peel this for nothing."

I take the orange from him and eat it. The juice explodes in my mouth. I chew a bit then thank him.

He peels me another part and hands it over.

I take it, ready to say thank you again, but then a hot bolt of pain shoots through me.

Astarion senses this and stiffens in his spot.

I hunch forward, trying to contain my reaction to the pain, but a whine manages to leave my lips.

"Scream," he says, "wail, shout, cry over the pain. Who cares if it's the middle of the night. Be hurt if it hurts."

I slowly straighten up and sigh, "my head will throb if I scream."

"Oh..." he thinks for a moment, "then maybe don't do that."

I huff through my nose, "sometimes I wish I was numb. I wish this hurt didn't faze me. I wish I just... was not."

Astarion turns to the orange in his hand. He splits it with his thumbs. He then takes my hand and places it there.

His touch lingers. It remains long enough that I turn down and watch his fingers rub my skin. I clutch the orange and look up at him.

He pulls away. His lips part to speak, but I beat him to it.

"But then I remember pain makes gentle touches all the more tender," I press my lips into a soft smile.

I look at the orange in my hand, two segments still connected into one. I split them in half.

The action draws out a memory, a time that feels distant to the present. I recall sharing orange segments, apple slices, grapes, watermelon, and peaches. There were no words spoken in the memory, there was no other sound save for the ambience, but there was an apparent ease, an air of comfort between us.

The person in my memory had no face, just a blur of a smile as they reached out to hand me fruit. Still, the memory brought me peace, the memory takes away from the pain I was feeling.

Astarion recognizes this.

I raise the orange slice by his face. I stuff the other in my mouth and lick the juice on my lips.

Astarion turns to the citrus, then slowly lifts his eyes up to mine. He takes the orange into his mouth.

A mix of sweet, sour, and bitter swarm his tongue as he chews. He is surprised he enjoys it as much as he does.

Another ripple of pain courses through me. Astarion scoots over and wordlessly offers his shoulder. I lean on him and ride out the pain in silence.

#astarion fanfic #astarion x reader #astarion #astarion fluff #astarion fanfiction #astarion x you #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfic #baldurs gate 3 #baldur's gate 3 fanfic #baldurs gate 3 fanfic #baldurs gate astarion #baldur's gate 3 fic #baldurs gate 3 fic

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crowned-aeris · 1 month

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A little Dragon AU where Dick and some of the Batkids are dragons :3

This has been rotting away in my drafts for the longest time, and now it's finally seeing the light of day! I hope y'all enjoy!

-----

Bruce wasn't too sure how the hell this happened.

He blinked helplessly as the snake-like nestling cried helplessly in his arms. The broken bodies of its parents lay not too far away.

Batman had received a tip regarding a human trafficking deal and discovered the dragon in the basement. There was a nest filled with numerous eggs. Some were crushed, but a few others remained intact.

The nestling continued to pitifully cry, pawing pathetically at Bruce's armored chest.

He narrowed his eyes, shuffling as he waited for Jim to arrive. The nestling had quieted after finding Bruce's thumb and gnawing on it.

His heart throbbed as Bruce examined the tiny nestling that could fit squarely in the palm of his hand.

===

When he tried consulting Zatana, she had attempted to separate the dragonling from Bruce's shoulder. The tiny creature was not receptive, deciding to hiss, breathe cinders, and nearly bite off Zatana's fingers.

Defeated by the vibrantly colored nestling, she had given Bruce a long list of instructions. She asked him to call her if he had trouble tending to the dragonlings, and Bruce had agreed.

"Alfred!" Bruce called, wincing slightly as the tiny red-green-yellow dragonlin started to nibble his ear.

"Master Bruce, what- oh my," his butler/father blinked in surprise. The British man looked shocked to see Bruce standing awkwardly by the Batcomputer, a duffle bag filled with two other eggs and supplies.

The dragonling at his shoulder screamed impatiently, flicking his tail. How such a tiny creature made that noise was a mystery, but it was proof of his life.

"I assume that we'll be keeping..."

"Him," Bruce supplied, raising his hand and smiling as the small snake-like creature crawled onto his hand, "he tried biting Clark too."

The butler's mustache twitched in amusement, "I see. Does he require any specialized diet?"

Bruce frowned, shuffling over to present the bag to the man, "There should be a booklet in there about the care of dragons. I've glanced through it, but then..."

"I'll help you take care of him, Mater Bruce. Do not worry," Alfred said, reaching over to lift the duffle bag from Bruce's shoulder before carefully setting it on a table.

Has Bruce ever mentioned how much he loved Alfred? Because he really loves Alfred. Maybe he should raise the butler's salary again?

#tim drake #batman #batfamily #batfam #dick grayson #bruce wayne #damian wayne #jason todd #fanfic #dragons #au #fanfiction #dragon dick grayson #wip #pls lemme know what y’all think #if this does well then i’ll continue this au

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howlingday · 20 days

Text

Lord Taurus

Adam: Hello, ningen~!

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

Adam: Ha ha... Your threats are as empty as your title.

Adam: All hail Weiss Schnee, heiress to nothing!

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Adam: Well, well, this could be quite salubrious for me.

Corsac: I'm not sure I...

Fennec: ...know what that means.

Adam: It means "beneficial to one's health and well-being," you dolts!

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

Yang: Thanks for the assist, Ozp-AGH!

Adam: ...Oops! How rude of me. The pommel of my sword has slipped into your chest~.

Yang: Heh heh... No problem.

Adam: HURGH!

Yang: Sorry 'bout that. My fist just happened to punch your chest "on accident," too.

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

Harriet: It's a simple fact; I'm the fastest member of the Ace Operatives!

Adam: So you're a master of retreat, eh? You must be so proud.

Harriet: (Activates Super-Speed) Get ready for a surprise!

Adam: ...

Harriet: (Running in place) My semblance will allow me to dodge your sinister and nefarious attacks with the greatest of ease! JUST TRY AND HIT ME! (Blinks out)

Adam: ...I'm just going to let that play out.

Harriet: (Attacking Adam, Missing)

Adam: (Backhands Harriet)

Harriet: Rgh! B-But how?!

Adam: That's funny, because I was about to ask the same to you. As in, "But how do you expect such pitiful attacks could do any damage to topple a top tier titan like me?"

Adam: (Grips sword) A grievous insult I intend to pay back tenfold.

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Adam: Is Yang not here yet?

Penny: No, but she's on her way!

Adam: Oh, look at that; the toy robot from Atlas. I remember watching you die on-screen before Cinder took over. I guess the Maiden's powers can bring back both the powerful AND the pathetic!

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Weiss: YOU'RE ACTUALLY MAKING ME HOLD ADAM'S HAND?!

Adam: Heh heh heh... There's nothing for you to be scared of Schnee. I won't bite.

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Adam: Well, well, it seems the woman of the hour has finally arrived! I've been waiting a long time for you! And I see your Schnee friend is with you, too. I would be surprised, but ningen never were good at fighting alone, were they?

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Ruby: Huh? It's you...

Adam: Salutations, ningen~!

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Adam: I remember when Nikos' partner was just a shrimpy, little thing. It's so touching to see boys becoming men.

Jaune: Adrian, stay back!

Adrian: But Uncle Jaune-

Jaune: You don't stand a chance against him, so just leave him to me!

Adrian: (Pouts)

Adam: What tender love~! I can barely stomach it. When I'm done with him, I'll kill the brat, too, so you can hold hands together in Hell. (Blinks out)

Jaune: Huh?!

Adam: (Behind him) NOTHING PERSONAL, KID.

Nora/Ren: JAUNE!

Jaune: AUGH! (Falls to the ground)

Adam: ...I'm sorry, but I don't think you understand how this works. Once you're on the ground and can't move, you're supposed to beg me for mercy! Say you'll do anything to spare your nephew's life!

Jaune: Ngh!

Adam: Come on! Let's hear it, boy! Cry for me! Scream! SOAK YOUR FACE IN TEARS AND TEAR OFF YOUR ARMOR IN FRUSTRATION! AHAHAHAHAHA! Not that I would let you live, but it's all part of the fun for me!

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Pyrrha: (Struggling)

Adam: Oh, I do respect powerful fighters. But there's one other facet to my character, which is...

Adam: THERE'S NOTHING I DESPISE MORE THAN NINGEN.

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Adam: That's it, Xiao Long! Keep getting stronger! Be your best lizard!

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Adam: Care to put her to the test?

Adam: (Draws blade)

Willow: (Shakes head)

SHKT!

Adam: (Sheathes, Ahem)

Adam: ...WINTER, LOOK! IT'S SUCH A TRAGEDY!

Winter: Huh?!

Adam: IT'S YOUR MOTHER! SHE'S BEEN FATALLY WOUNDED BY A STRAY ATTACK!

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Ozpin: There must be something you care about! The White Fang?! Loved ones?! Memories?! Everyone has SOMETHING they want to protect-

Adam: You're pissing me off! I don't care about anything or anyone. Hm... Except for myself, of course.

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Adam: I can't stand the sight of your pitiful, broken faces wearing MY masks...

Adam: (Grips handle)

Blake: (Eyes widen) EVERYONE RUN, NOW!

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Yang: You're definitely not a pushover, that's for sure. If you weren't so evil, you'd actually be a fun sparring partner. What a waste of talent.

Adam: It's exactly that kind of small-minded drivel that makes ningen like you so especially intolerable.

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Adam: WAKE UP! Torture isn't any fun if I can't hear you scream! (Stabs Yang's prone body)

Yang: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH!

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Adam: Attention, brothers and sisters of the White Fang...

Adam: (Points)

Penny: Huh?!

Adam: I will grant ownership of any human settlement to any one of you who can slice that Atlas toy in half!

Penny: What?!

Adam: Ha ha ha! History repeats, with only certain details that change. And when Xiao Long shows up, she'll give in to her rage again, leaving her wide-open for me cut not just her arm, but her head off, too!

#rwby #dragon ball #dragon ball super #adam taurus #jaune arc #ruby rose #yang xiao long #weiss schnee #nora valkyrie #lie ren #pyrrha nikos #blake belladonna #corsac albain #fennec albain #penny polendina #ozpin #adrian cotta arc #willow schnee #winter schnee

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ahn1zos · 8 months

Text

There was fire separating them. Weiss didn’t care.

She ran through it, using her own arms as a shield, then, chopped the Grimm arm to free Penny, who fell instantly on the ground. Before Weiss could yell at Jaune for him to hurry up, a familiar white light flooded her vision, Cinder’s pained screams mixed with Ruby’s filled of anger and Penny’s cry were too much for the heiress.

frosensteel and whiterose art incoming!

#rwby #rwby fanart #fanart #green light volume 10 #penny polendina #weiss schnee #frostbyte #frosen steel #ruby rose #rwby au #no one falls au #rwby cinder #alternate universe #rwby vol 8

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redbleedingrose · 9 months

Note

any ideas for brat tamer eris?

💜

Oh lord...

I have been thinking about this ask all weekend so lets do it!

18+ NSFW!!!!!!!!!!!!

OMFG this male is such a fucking tease, he honestly loves when you are a brat. He loves the idea that he can send you one look that has you literally squirming because you know what he will do to you later.

Eris is the kind of male who is really patient. He takes all your brattiness and keeps count in his head of all the wrongs you do throughout the day. He might cut you some sharp looks that scream "behave" but your little giggles and winks back at him have him smirking internally because he knows you won't be laughing later...

I think eventually when he reaches his breaking point, he will drag you off into the closet or library or just any empty room to have his way with you, growling to himself, "dirty slut needs my attention all the time"

Other times he will toss you over his shoulders and rest his hands on your thighs, squeezing and raking his nails across your delicate skin, not leaving any marks but enough that you can feel the sharp glide that has your cunt throbbing

You like to play the brat role because you know it is one of the best ways to get him to fuck you like you are a rag doll

Ugh okay back to it

He drags you into the dining room, and immediately forces you to bend over the table, tearing your dress off with such force, that you can see the cinders burning at the parts of your dress that come flying off

His large hand racks through your hair, fisting it and pulling you back into his chest as his other hand roams your body and gropes at your tits so hard, you're gasping for air and squirming

A tight pinch and twist of your nipple has you writhing while he murmurs against your ear, "You've been so bad today my love, what has you all naught hmm? Need my attention like the needy whore you are, huh sweetheart?"

He bites down on your ear lobe, tugging at it before making his way down your neck, marking every surface with a sharp bite and soothing licks.

"Answer me you dirty brat," his voice hardening as you whine and grind into him, rolling your hips against his warmth, aching for him to play with you in ways that no one else can. Pulses of playfulness light your mating bond on fire when he reaches his breaking point and turns you around with such speed, it makes you dizzy

He lifts you onto the table and shoves you down, his hand still tight around your neck before shoving your panties to the side and taking a good long look at your soaking wet cunt, "Someone's all eager, isn't she?"

He uses such a condescending tone that it sends another wave of slick between your legs. His long fingers that are decorated with gold autumn rings play with your sopping folds, circling your clit hard enough that your back is arching off the table for more.

Your eyes shut in ecstasy when he slides his middle and forefinger in with ease, pumping hard and fast, the knot inside your belly already building, your legs shaking as the wrap around his waist when suddenly,

SMACK

Your body jolts, a cry leaving your mouth as your eyes shoot open to catch Eris' dark chuckle, his hand already aiming to send another spank to your cunt.

Your legs try to slam shut to prevent his onslaught of hard spanks, but he pulls them back open, "Uh uh sweetheart, bad girls get punished."

He lands another spank on your cunt before leaning down to suckle on your swollen, throbbing clit, humming at your taste, his eyes glinting as tears of overstimulation form at the corner of your eyes.

His hand comes up to interlock with yours, squeezing tightly at your fingers to make sure you are okay and want to continue, and when you squeeze back, just as hard, playing into the punishment, he stands tall over you and starts all over again, this time, with ropes of fire holding your arms above your head

He spends the entire night, alternating between fingering your sopping wet cunt, suckling your bruised clit until you are convulsing from the pleasure, and pulling away to spank your cunt right before you can reach your peak

And he waits.

He waits until you are babbling and dumb, begging for his cock, his fingers, his tongue, anything to let you cum, before he starts pounding you with his thick, long cock

He doesn't even give you time to adjust to his size before he is railing into you with all his force, his body coming to rest over yours, moaning at the feel of your tits bouncing against his chest, legs wrapping around his waist to pull him in further

He mutters words of encouragement, "Come on baby, almost there," and "Been so good for me, taking your punishment like the good girl you are," and "look so stunning sweetheart," and "Wanna cum on my cock baby? Wanna be a good girl?"

He breathily chuckles at your fucked out, eager nods, licking away the tears that stream down your cheek and kissing your open mouth, "Cum for me"

And you just explode, your orgasm sending shock waves throughout your entire body, your fingers and toes tingling from the immense pleasure, your moans devolving into gasps as you try to catch your breathe with each wave of ecstasy, your vision blacking out as your legs shake against his waist, his hot cum spilling deep inside you

OMG and Eris is the type of male to finger his cum back into your overstimulated cunt because, "Don't want to waste a drop of my cum honey"

UGHHHHHH I LOVE HIM

You would be so out of it after LMAO. Just completely floating, and he would take such good care of you after. Murmuring how good you are for him and pressing soft kisses into your cheeks and forehead, stroking your face as you hover in and out of conciousness.

Anyway... that was filth

#rose rambles #eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra acotar #eris acotar #eris vanserra fanfic #eris x y/n #eris x you #eris vanserra #love of my life frl #girl dad!Eris #acotar #acotar fanfic

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jayden-writes · 10 months

Text

ab irato

pairing: Lucifer x gn!Reader

word count: ~3.5k

genre: hurt/comfort, angst

cw: mental breakdown, self-deprecation, self-harm (not graphic)

summary: When you break under the pressure of keeping up with Devildom curriculum, an unlikely demon comes to your aid.

other notes: no name, Y/N or MC used // AO3 // thanks to @gravedwe11er for helping me so much with this fic!

Too much. Too much. You couldn't breathe. The steady slamming of your fists against your thighs as you were sitting on the edge of your bed did nothing to help you feel grounded. You needed to rip yourself apart, break your body open or the anger would tear through the seams of your being, engulfing you in an inferno and burning you into cinder. Flames were raging in your body, licking at your soul, your heart, your lungs. You wanted to scream until your throat was raw, but you couldn’t make a sound other than ragged attempts at breathing and angry whimpers.

This was going to kill you, you knew it, you could feel yourself decaying in real-time, your head swimming, rushing in your ears and your lungs constricted as your body was slowly being consumed by the fire. Until, out of nowhere, the movement of your fists stilled. It took you a few seconds to realize that there were strong hands clad in black gloves keeping them in place despite your resistance against them. Gradually, the image of Lucifer kneeling in front of you registered in your dazed mind and you met his gaze.

His lips were moving, though you were unable to make out what he was saying amidst the utter chaos in your head, even the expression he was wearing on his face was entirely lost on you. However, you could feel his hands squeezing yours rhythmically in an unsuccessful attempt to ground you. He kept up the effort for a few moments, but eventually he carefully loosened the hold he had on you, only fully letting go once he was sure you wouldn’t continue hitting yourself. Then he left.

As soon as the door had closed behind him a sob tore through your throat and hot tears of shame started running down your cheeks, scorching your skin. You hid your face in your hands and cried, feeling yourself getting more upset than you already were. Of course he wouldn’t want to be around when you were acting like this, what were you expecting? In the five months you had known him he hadn’t been particularly caring or kind towards you - mostly keeping his interactions with you to a bare minimum, only making sure you wouldn’t die during your stay in the Devildom - so obviously he couldn’t be bothered to take care of a human having a pathetic mental breakdown.

You felt the blaze burning even stronger, your fingers quickly moving to your hair, yanking at it desperately, although that brought you no reprieve either. Suddenly the mattress dipped down right next to you and something cold was pressed on the nape of your neck. It was such an abrupt and stark contrast to the conflagration that was raging inside of you that you instinctively tried moving away from it, but an unyielding arm promptly held you in place, forcing you to let the cold seep through your skin and your body. Within a few seconds you became completely still, your hands dropping into your lap. Your lungs ached when they fully expanded again for the first time in what felt like an eternity as you took deep, shuddering breaths while the shock of the icy feeling worked its way through your insides, smothering the flames that had been consuming you. The rushing in your ears ceased and your vision became less blurry. Finally, you could hear yourself crying and the tension in your muscles slowly dissipated. The restraining arm that had been keeping you in place disappeared, but the cold thing on your nape remained.

There were no words spoken as your tears slowly came to a stop and your breathing slowed down, a feeling of exhaustion settling into your bones.

“Why?” you whispered, shifting slightly to face Lucifer without looking him in the eye.

“What exactly do you mean?” he asked, raising an eyebrow as he put his arm down, removing an ice pack from your neck.

“Why are you here? I don’t… I don’t understand. It’s not like I was in physical danger, you could have just… left me alone.”

“Because,” he replied after a few beats of silence, “Lord Diavolo has tasked me with taking care of your well-being, mental and physical alike.”

Your shoulders sagged at that and you turned away from him. Of course he was only doing this because of Lord Diavolo and not because he genuinely cared. How foolish of you, to think otherwise.

“Right…” you muttered, feeling your throat closing up, “you can go then. I’ll be fine, I can handle myself for now.”

Lucifer exhaled heavily as he contemplated his next words.

“I would rather not leave you alone at this time,” his voice was firm, making you scoff.

“Don’t worry, I won’t do anything that would put your oh-so-important exchange program in jeopardy. There’s no need for you to stick around any longer,” you spoke, hurt clearly audible in your voice despite your efforts to mask it with an indifferent tone. His eyes were fixed on you, studying your form for a few seconds before speaking once more.

“That’s not the only reason,” he replied with a sigh. You frowned and turned to him with an incredulous look in your eyes.

“Oh, so now you care?” you asked, voice brimming with bitterness. He let out a short chuckle, mouth twisting into a small, wry smile.

“Whether you believe it or not, watching you suffer brings me no pleasure,” he examined your bewildered expression with amusement for a bit, then his face grew serious again.

“I wish to help you through this, if you would let me. I want you to rely on me, to trust me with your pain,” he reached out an ungloved hand, thumb brushing gently across your cheek as you gaped at him in astonishment. “I will not leave your side, not unless you send me away.”

Lucifer’s gaze carried a small hint of concern and fondness, and you couldn’t remember ever seeing such emotions on his usually well-guarded face. You kept staring at him, not knowing what to say, but the touch of his hand felt nice and soothing and you couldn’t help wanting to accept his offer. With a stifled yawn you leaned into the contact and closed your eyes, allowing yourself to enjoy this moment of tenderness.

“You must be exhausted,” he said in a soft voice, “perhaps it would be best if you rested for some time. I will stay with you - if you are amenable.”

“That would be nice,” you muttered, fatigue taking hold of you. His hand disappeared from your cheek and you opened your eyes again, watching him take off his shoes and coat and lie down on the bed. You followed suit and let your weary body sink into the mattress, keeping a respectful distance from him. Some time later you felt him gently stroking your hair, the touch a steady reminder of his presence.

While you tried to relax and fall asleep, remnants of your emotions caught up with you and your body began shaking, a lump forming in your throat. You didn’t want to cry again, you were so tired of it. But Lucifer, perceptive as ever, paused his movements and you could hear him coming closer to you. His arm moved underneath your neck, holding your shoulder and pulling you towards him. Soon enough your head was lying on his chest and his other arm was resting on your waist. The carefulness of his hold only served to make you feel more raw on the inside, a whimper escaping your mouth against your will as tears started cascading down your cheeks, soaking through the fabric of his clothes. Lucifer remained quiet, tracing patterns on your skin with his fingers as your body shook with sobs and you clung to him, seeking comfort in his steadfast embrace until you calmed down.

It was completely silent aside from his steady breathing and your occasional sniffles and hiccups. He kept caressing your body and eventually you drifted off to sleep.

When you began waking up the following morning you were still too groggy to comprehend your surroundings, though you felt safe and warm and you would have stayed that way forever, but then a deep voice cut through the serenity.

“Did you sleep well?”

Startled, your eyes shot open and the first thing you saw was Lucifer’s face a few inches away from yours as the memories of last night came flooding back.

“You really stayed,” you muttered, genuine surprise in your voice.

“Of course I did, I always stay true to my word,” he easily replied, running a hand through his disheveled hair. You were still wrapped up in his arms, marvelling at the unguarded look on his face. Before you knew it you moved a hand to cup his cheek, fully expecting him to withdraw or get annoyed, but to your amazement he didn't. Instead, he stayed still and gazed at you with a look in his eyes you couldn't identify. It almost mesmerized you; however, you shook yourself out of your reverie and sat up with a heavy sigh. Lucifer kept looking at you, but you stared at your hands that were laying in your lap.

It was silent for a bit as you thought about last night, a grave feeling washing over you the more you ruminated.

“You can go now,” you mumbled, eyes flicking up to look Lucifer in the face.

“Excuse me?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.

“You don’t have to hang around any longer; you did your duty,” you said, a tinge of sadness in your tone.

”Why would I not?”

“Why would you want to stay? Just because you don't enjoy seeing me suffer? Please. I appreciate what you did last night, I really do, but you can now stop pretending that you give a shit.”

“I’m not pre-” he started saying while he sat up, only to be cut off by you.

“Yes, of course you are. I mean- what even am I compared to you? I'm… I’m nothing. Absolutely nothing. I'm weak, there's nothing special about me. I'm just a human,” you kept ranting.

“Don't-”

“And compared to most other humans I'm still pathetic and weak. I freaked out like this over stupid homework. Over homework! And it wasn't even the first time and it won't be the last time either,” you didn't know what you were saying anymore, the words kept coming as you worked yourself into a frenzy, your shoulders heaving as you were breathing heavily.

“Stop-” he tried again to no avail, sounding exasperated.

“I am nothing but a burden and a risk to the program. I shouldn't- I shouldn’t be here! You picked the worst fucking human in existence for this- this important project and now you have to worry about me ruining everything! Why else would you even bother with-”

Out of nowhere your face was grabbed by Lucifer's hands and his lips met yours. He soon pulled away again, looking at you with narrowed eyes.

“I will not have you talking about yourself in such a degrading manner”, he warned you, an angry edge to his voice, “none of what you said is even remotely true and I refuse to stand by idly and let you say such things.”

The kiss and his words stunned you into silence. Your mind was racing, and you didn’t know what to say or what to think.

“Listen to me very closely”, he spoke in a low and commanding tone, his hands still framing your face tightly, “do you truly think I would spend my valuable time with you like this if I only cared about the program?”

“I- I don't know? Probably not…?” you questioned. The weight of his words and actions was slowly beginning to sink in and the doubts in your mind began to dim.

“Precisely. There are no ulterior motives; I have nothing to gain from such actions. I did what I did because I wanted to, that’s all there is to it. Do you understand?”

“I- I think so, yes,” you muttered, the hands holding your face loosening their grasp ever so slowly.

“From now on, I want you to reach out to me any time you begin to feel overwhelmed in this manner. I will not allow you to deal with this by yourself again, am I making myself clear?”

“Yeah, okay. If that’s what you want, then I guess I can do that,” came your not entirely truthful reply as you turned your head away from him to avoid his piercing stare. He sighed and shifted your face back towards him.

“I mean it”, Lucifer emphasized, his voice and expression softer now, “let me be there for you.”

More and more of your doubts were disappearing by the minute, the way he was looking at you made you believe in his sincerity.

“Okay, I will contact you when this happens again, I promise. But… I need to know what changed. Why are you suddenly being so nice to me? And why did you… kiss me?”

For a few seconds, his eyes flickered away, avoiding yours, but he quickly recovered.

“Why? Because I wanted to. I wanted to ease your pain, and I wanted to kiss you,” he answered casually, moving his hand to your chin and brushing a thumb over your lips.

“You can’t kiss someone simply because you want to,” you stated indignantly, face blushing furiously.

“Why not? Are you telling me you did not like it?” Lucifer asked, a smug smile on his face.

“I-It’s not about that!” you exclaimed.

“Ah, but I don’t hear you denying it either.”

“I don’t- I don’t want to be kissed on just a whim,” you huffed.

“I never do anything on ‘just a whim’. You are worth more than that,” his teasing smile became tender as he said that and he moved closer. You felt your pulse beginning to race, pounding in your chest as if it was trying to break out of your ribcage. The emotions that were swirling inside you were overwhelming; there was confusion and irritation, but you also had butterflies in your stomach that were fluttering around wildly, making you feel incredibly flushed.

“W-what are you doing?” you whispered nervously, feeling his breath on your skin.

“Merely showing you how much I meant it, if I may?”

Everything around you felt fuzzy and almost unreal, but you managed to nod. He closed the gap between the two of you, his lips pressing lightly against yours. Compared to the earlier kiss, this one felt much more deliberate and gentle, less of a demand and closer to a request instead. His hand was on the back of your head, fingers stroking through your hair. As you were starting to get entirely lost in the sensation, Lucifer pulled away, leaving you dazed and breathless. He removed his hands from your face and gave you a little bit of space while you tried to regain your composure.

There was a genuine, pleased smile on his face when he was looking at you and it only made you blush harder. Your heart was still beating way too fast, and the whirlwind of emotions inside of you wasn’t letting up either. All you could do was stare at him in disbelief.

“Do you see my point now?” Lucifer asked with a soft chuckle, watching your baffled expression with a mix of amusement and affection. You nodded. Maybe you were imagining it, but you could swear there was the tiniest amount of pink tinting his cheeks.

“Good,” he said, his demeanor growing serious again, “then I believe it would be best if we talked about last night.”

“Ah… is that really necessary?” you muttered in disappointment.

“I understand that this might be uncomfortable for you, but in order for me to be able to help you, to be there for you, I need to know more.”

Sighing deeply you took a few measured breaths, trying to suppress the anxiety that was now taking hold of you once more. You leaned against the headboard, looking away and gathering yourself for a few moments.

“My grades have been falling short of my expectations and I’m having a hard time understanding the topics in class. I- the homework has gotten increasingly harder and I just- I understand less and less with each class I attend,” you explained, your voice quivering slightly, “I thought it would get easier with time, that I’d be able to comprehend everything, o-or at least more, but no. It’s only getting worse and I- I feel so frustrated and angry. And when I was doing homework last night, I guess I just- I just snapped. I’ve been struggling with other homework and assignments since I got here, but it hasn’t been this bad in- in a while.”

Closing your eyes you took more deliberate breaths to try and calm the emotions bubbling in your chest. You heard Lucifer move, his body settling next to you as he put a comforting hand over yours.

“I-it’s always been like that, I guess. I get overwhelmed with something and I-I freak out, I don’t even know why. It’s stupid and embarrassing,” you finished off your explanation quietly, trying to resist the urge to deprecate yourself further because you knew it would only make him upset again.

“How often does this happen?” he questioned, rubbing a thumb over the back of your hand.

“Oh… uhm, not that often, I guess?” You gave back anxiously.

“How often?” he pressed again.

“Ever since I got here maybe… ten times?”

“So, twice a month?”

You opened your eyes and carefully looked at him, taking in his frown before shaking your head, causing him to narrow his eyes.

“No… in the first four months it only happened three times overall, but this month has been… difficult,” you explained with an uneasy laugh.

“Seven times? This month alone?” he concluded, clearly taken aback.

“Well… maybe? I don’t know for sure, I haven’t exactly kept count.”

“So you’re saying it could have been more than ten times?”

“It could have also been less!” you protested weakly, knowing very well that Lucifer was right in his assumption. One incredulous look from him was enough for you to deflate and sigh heavily.

“Did you have any intentions of ever telling anyone? Or would you have kept on suffering alone had I not found you by pure chance?” he finally asked after a while, his voice stern with a hint of concern.

The way you remained silent, avoiding his gaze, told him all he needed to know. He cursed under his breath, a hand ruffling through his hair. Just when you were about to apologize, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, pulling you to his chest and holding you in a firm embrace. You let your head rest against him and lazily draped your arm across his waist before you spoke again.

“Being a human here is… difficult, Lucifer. I already feel so vulnerable and the thought of telling this to someone, to a being that is so much more powerful, so much older than I am, is mortifying. I was- I still am scared that something like this will only make you see how weak I actually am.”

He raised a hand to your face, caressing your cheek in a soothing manner.

“I don't consider you weak - quite the opposite, in fact. Bearing the burden of being an exchange student in a foreign place, surrounded by demons, would be a difficult matter for any human. However, it is foolish to carry this weight alone, and if I have a say in it, you never will again,” he assured you, tightening his hold around you, “we can come together however often it is necessary and go over your assignments; I will make sure you understand everything. In turn, I expect you to come to me whenever there is something troubling you.”

“I will, I promise,” you said earnestly. Lucifer hummed appreciatively and you sat in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, until the alarm of your phone nearly made you jump out of your skin.

“Fuck, I have to get ready,” you mumbled as you untangled yourself from his hold and stood up.

“No need.”

“Huh?” You stopped dead in your tracks, staring at him in confusion.

“I will excuse you from today’s classes,” he explained casually while getting up himself, “and I will tell my brothers to leave you alone, so that you may focus on resting instead. If you need anything, do not hesitate to call me.”

“Thank you for letting me skip RAD, but… I can’t just call you. I know how busy you are, and I don’t want to bother you when you have so little time already.”

“Don’t argue with me on this, I will make time for you. And now, rest. We will talk more in depth later.”

“Okay,” you conceded, watching him leave, “and Lucifer?” He stopped in front of the door and turned around, examining you expectantly.

“Thank you. Really.”

“You are welcome,” he gave you a soft smile and a nod, then he left.

With a content sigh you laid back down and closed your eyes, quickly falling asleep again.

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thecameronchronicles · 1 year

Text

Territorial

TW: Smut. Language. Slightly Dom!Rafe. Slightly Dom!Reader.

SUMMARY: You make it quite clear who Rafe belongs to…

WORD COUNT: 2200

REQUESTED

Anonymous asked:

Jealous!reader where Sarah has a bunch of friends over and they’re all drooling over Rafe so reader (his girlfriend) takes him upstairs and leaves marks all over him and moans extra loud and when they go back downstairs she’s all smiles and Sarah’s friends can’t stop blushing

Territorial

The second the comment was made, his eyes lifted to you as if to ask for permission to respond. Yet, he wouldn't have to flex a brow or raise the edge of his mouth as you were wearing enough of an expression for you both. If looks could kill, you would have been suspected of second degree murder with a motive of being a crime of passion. Someone you once claimed to be a friend was a shameless and notorious flirt, harmless traces of her fingers to Rafe's arm seen as an instigation for war. To prove what was yours. To mark your territory.

Rafe tensed as your arms ran down his shoulders from behind. His breath rose in relief to the scent of your perfume reaching him as he turned to kiss you, causing the lounge chair to sound beneath him. With your eyes shifting to the girl dull enough to think she could ever care for Rafe as you could, you led your lips to his cheek. At the same moment, his hands collected yours softly.

"You look so lonely over here all by yourself..." You explained with a whine as he shifted over the fabric to the sound of that near whimper. The same one that made him understand he has offered himself as a job well done when you'd tremble beneath him. It was the reason his eyes came to a close, abandoning the pointless conversation ceased with your touch.

"You look so good...makes me want to get on my knees for you right here.." He gripped your hand, a momentary smirk fading for the contentment of his arousal.

"You know I love crying for you, Rafe...I love the reason why, too...Making you feel good makes me want to come..."

His grip was now wrapped entirely around your wrist, knuckles white from keeping from acting on what you clearly intended to have develop.

"I want you inside me Rafe...You can have me however you want...I just want you to make me scream-" His patience was shattered by your teasing as he tore you shamelessly through the crowd as the man on the mission he was. But before he could even manage a single step in ascension to the stairs leading to his room, you stopped him.

"Sorry sweetheart...You don't get to change your mind after making it very clear to me that I didn't take care of you well enough last night." You squealed as he pulled you over his shoulder. A smack to your ass leading you to wear a grin of pride, leaving behind the dismay of a 'friend' whose title was now whittled down to the cinders and smoke of 'rival'.

The door to his bedroom came closed by his heel forcing it to slam shut. Your body was led to the bed but infiltrated with a harsh grip to your hips.

"If you want me to make you come screaming, you're gonna need to take your clothes off..." You sweetened the sultry heat of the moment with a hand firmly set at his chest. The acceleration of his heart would be felt as a jackhammer to your touch as you teased his lips.

"I want you to tear it off of me-" In the attempt to do this, Rafe was left clasping for mid air as you sauntered to the bed. Legs crossed as your hands supported your position at the end of the bed.

"But first...I want you to kiss me." He lowered his gaze, looking through his brows, before rushing to appease you. But once again, you stopped him.

"Here..." You explained with a soft hand to his cheek, guiding his gaze to the legs now uncrossed for him.

"You better be as wet as you said...I'm thirsty-" You giggled before feeling a single kiss to your lips hold enough power to knock you flat. But your desire to feel him lower kept you upright. Yet as he attempted to withdraw, you pulled him back.

"Baby-"

"Just a little more...before you're stained with me." He pounced, weighing you down with himself before pressing your interlaced fingers into the mattress.

"I want every inch to be stained...Starting with..." His fingers already began at your sex, thin panties set as an easily adjustable obstacle before he made contact.

"And how long have you been ruining your panties for me?"

"Long enough." He scoffed, his finger led to your opening, a cold ring contrasting his finger.

"Oh, I still don't think that's enough, baby..." A second finger stretched you to more of a fulfilment you understood with his anatomy as your mouth pulled slack.

"Not yet."

"But it feels-"

"Not. Yet." He ordered as you clenched around him to try to keep your release at bay. But this only sent him to spread his fingers from within, bringing them back to that sacred g-spot that left your knees to tremor.

"You know the deal about wet panties..." He breathed over you, speaking behind a smirk. "I get to keep the ones you ruin..." He chuckled to himself.

"Which is why my eager girl always needs new ones..." He teasingly berated.

"Maybe you should stop wearing them altogether..."

"Everyone would see me dripping..."

"You think they don't know? Like they can't see the scratches on my chest or the bruises on your ass when you wear my favorite bikini?" He scoffed. "And YOU were the one who wanted to scream...and we both know it doesn't take much for you-"

"Ahhh....mmmm...Rafe...please..."

"So I'm going to make this last. Can't have them thinking I'm done with you just yet...Not when I'm just getting started..." His fingers retreated as he stood at the edge of the bed. A single force carried you to the ledge as His fingers came to his pants. Your eyes stationed at the button left undone as he diverted the immediate exposure to that of his shirt, now shirtless before you.

"You want to scream for me?" He asked bowing over you once more. Only now, taking hold of your hair and lifting you onto your elbows.

"Show me what I have to look forward to then...But don't come-"

"I can't, Rafe, I'm too close-"

"If you come, I'll leave your ass tied to this bed and go back to my party...maybe leave behind something that vibrates as you can't do anything but come over and over and over again...getting what you want ..making you happy..because I do that for my girl, don't I? Make you happy-"

"You make me come, Rafe, so please..."

"Not yet." You groaned as he lowered between your legs, but only until your eyes closed to his breath at your clothed sex.

"You said you were hungry..." Your eyes narrowed for only a moment in confusion before you were taken to the edge of the bed by a force of your ankles. Fingers softly at your cheek would slip into your hair and into a grip before you involuntarily kissed his toned stomach.

"Said you wanted to choke on me...Maybe it will give you a chance to cool off..." He smirked.

"Make me just as wet as you are, baby." His eyes came to that infamous slow roll as you obliged. But not even a second pump to your throat and he was moaning your name in a curse.

"You’re acting like I don't feed you, fuck!"

"You taste so good...." You moaned as he growled, your lips teasing only his head with a gentle kiss as he tore at your dress. Tearing the fabric low enough to reveal you to him, both breasts at attention from the lack of a bra, he took one to his grasp.

"Jesus...no bra...you were already half ready..."

"I'm always halfway there..."

"That right?" You nodded.

"Then you don't get anything else. Can't have you coming without me-"

"Rafe-"

"Don't whine or I'll think you're already coming. You save that for me..." You scowled.

"You know I'm good for it. Stop looking at me like that and finish what you started..." He guided the back of his knuckles to your cheek in a teasing graze before you resumed.

With each suction made around him, you wondered how long it would take for him to take possession of you once again. But just as you were motivated to bring him in the need to lose control, he was more steadfast to hold on to it. That being said, he still heaved over you with your name spoken between those quick and desperate breaths. The grip made within your hair was sporadic in an exertion of his strength until you wrapped your nails until his lower thigh. This allowed the stability needed to take him further. No pesky hand wrapped at his base to keep you from taking him fully.

"Fuck!" He grunted, having lost the battle as he fucked himself into your throat.

"Might have to come twice-"

You smirked to his desperation before the smirk felt around him had reminded him of this game. For that, you were taken to your feet for only a moment. He set you to stand between his legs, forcing the rest of your dress to the floor, before tearing your panties down to follow.

"Choking on me make you THAT wet?" You shook your head back and forth.

"Thinking what you're gonna do after makes me..." He scoffed.

"You won't have to think about it anymore. Come here." He pulled you over him into a straddle, setting a condom between his teeth before you took hold of the package.

"I want to feel all of you, Rafe-" Being on the pill made him agreeable to act on the remaining risk. It had been quite some time since you'd felt him this way and yet you craved it.

His bare cock slipped into you effortlessly with the help of gravity. Your body stiffening to the familiar stretch still foreign to your tight walls. Even if he was a frequent tourist between his favorite vacation destination between your thighs, you could never find it fully peaceful with those initial thrusts. All because of how endowed and skilled he had been. The scoff of pride validating that he knew this, as well, basking in that moment of pain before the rush of pleasure.

"This is the part you can scream for me now...Let her hear how good I make it for you..." You blushed. "Yeah baby, I know...I know you want her to hear you...so let her..." He took a hold to the back of your neck.

"No faking either. I want everything to be genuine. Believe me, I'll know the difference." Your eyes rolled as he guided you to and from his shaft, returning and rising you in perfectly synchronized motions. He filled you in the same way he neglected you, replacing that absence by then setting himself to bottom out within you.

"So fucking tight...So good for me...Wanting to come so hard...but not yet, baby..."

"RAFE! PLEASE!"

"I know baby...not yet..."

"I’m gonna-" he clenched his teeth, turning you onto your back. You were only stationary for a moment before he pulled your calf to rest at his shoulder as he curved over you.

"With me or not at all. You know how this goes."

"Then make me come, Rafe! Please!"

"Since you asked so loudly...." He winked, pounding into you. If the way your belting his name in pleading repetition did not inform her of your throughout plowing, then the battering of the headboard of the wall or his own cursed would vindicate your secure relationship.

"That's it baby, let her hear you...let everyone hear how much you love me fucking you-"

"Fuck. Me.". You grunted, drunk on the high teasing its approach. His thrusts, too deep. His speed, too perfect. His voice, too titillating.

"Rafe!" That whimper sounded as the trophy he fought to achieve. That final sound of pleasure that remained and an echo and accompaniment to his own release as he shook over you.

"Maybe next time I'll make you get on your knees for me so she can see why I'll only ever look at you..."

"All you have to do is ask..." You kissed him sweetly.

"Do you really worry about her?" He asked, dominance fading to concern as he helped set your zipper back in ascension.

"No."

"Must be nice." Your brows furrowed.

"What?"

"Every guy at that party was looking at you like you were a piece of fucking meat...Sorry baby..." He set a plan to your cheek. "I guess you weren't the only one trying to prove a point..."

"Which was?"

"You're mine. End of fucking story."

You nodded. "Let's make sure they got the message?" He nodded, leading you down the steps as Sarah was looking at you both with humored embarrassment. But her face was not the one you cared to note. That came in the sight of your friend. The very friend who had gotten the message loud and clear. A single kiss to Rafe's lips validating this to those he was insecure in front of, silencing his demons once again.

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