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peachyyykid · 3 years

Text

Deceivers Ch. 4 - Flit

Word Count: 3748

Chapter 3 - Noble

Chapter 5 - Pirates

One week had passed since the world noble Charlos bought you at the auction house. After the branding, the guards had put you into skimpy lace underwear that barely covered your nipples and ass. You had felt slight relieve when they brought out a piece of fabric to put around your waist, but it was completely see-through and therefore, useless. The exploding collar was still in its place and Charlos added a leash to it.

You would walk behind him with another woman next to you, whom you weren't allowed to speak to. He pulled you through the streets and alleys of Sabaody, the eyes of the people in town made you uncomfortable, their gazes lingering on your exposed body.

It was so utterly embarrassing and degrading. From time to time, you would feel tugs in your chest, but you managed not to cry. Tears meant him kicking or punching you in front of all these people, and that somehow embarrassed you more than being half naked.

Some looked at you with pity, some shady men enjoyed your private parts almost spilling out, but most people just looked away. You were walking with a world noble after all, and they probably didn't want to die. He was usually riding on the back of another slave, and although you were in the same predicament as him, your heart hurt every time he trembled under Charlos' weight. But how could you help him if you couldn't even help yourself?

Every time you spoke without being asked, he gave you a hard back handed slap and if he felt particularly angry, he kicked you until you fell to the ground. The first few days this hadn't stopped you from annoying him on purpose, but the bruises piled up and soon you felt a stinging sensation in your ribs while breathing. The branding on your back healed quite well, although whenever you saw it in a mirror you cringed. They called it "the hoof of the flying dragon", which would be a beautiful name if it didn't have such a horrid back story.

Death, either yours or his, became an option you considered every time "Saint" Charlos groped your ass or fondled with your breasts. The thoughts you had about him grew more and more violent each day. You just wanted to hurt him.

The worst day so far was today. He wanted to eat dinner at a very fancy restaurant, and you stood next to him while he ate, making disgusting smacking and slurping sounds and laughing about "peasants" with his father and sister, who you despised as soon as you met them.

"Dear son", Rosward whistled, "you must give wife 14 the infertility shot as soon as we are home. It would be a shame if our blood were tainted with an improper heir due to your activities."

Your eyes widened as he mentioned infertility shots and the "activities", but you didn't dare to speak. Actually, thinking about it, it didn't really surprise you that much. He gave you the name wife 14, and he most definitely doesn't just display his wives somewhere just to look at them. His intentions were clear as glass.

"It will be so much fun, wife 14! I will get good use out of you", Charlos cheered while grabbing a handful of your exposed ass, making you flinch. You just wanted to smash his head into the plate of food.

"I know a good doctor, brother. If she wears out, he can stitch her back up, my friend said his mistresses were just like new", Shalria giggled behind her hand and Charlos formed his mouth into an o-shape. The fact that they spoke so freely about these things as a family, while normal families talked about their kids' school days or something, made you shiver in fear of what he was ready to do in private.

Her mentioning stitching you up sounded so nonchalant, while this practice was nothing else than disgusting. Some of your medicine books mentioned it, but it was a really old tradition that was actually forbidden by the world government. And here were the world nobles, completely ignoring rules that applied to everyone else (and for a good reason that was).

Jeany was right and all your life, you had blindly believed all these great and noble things you learned about the government and the world nobles.

How could I have been this stupid..., you thought and lowered your head. Small tears were forming in the corners of your eyes, and you blinked them away before anyone could see them.

If you had told your past self about the life, you had now you would have laughed. It was kind of ridiculous. Suddenly, something dawned you: You definitely had to flee, but time was running out. As soon as Charlos took you to Mary Geoise it was over, there was no way to get away from there. Your escape had to happen on Sabaody, basically the sooner the better.

Carefully, you eyed your surroundings in the restaurant. It was a fancy place, white furniture and walls with floor length windows. All the waiters were dressed in suits and had impeccable posture, carrying shiny silver plates with dish covers.

According to their status, the world nobles were seated on an open landing above the other guests. A flight of stairs led to the ground floor, with the kitchen on the left. Waiters scurried in and out of the room, trying their best to satisfy the demanding customers.

The world noble's table was the only one on the landing. It looked very expensive, clad in a white satin tablecloth reaching the floor. They sat on comfy chairs that matched the table.

Charlos' disgusting smacking and slurping never left your ears and it was becoming unbearable. Neither him, nor his father and sister were paying you any attention while they indulged on their food. You would expect table manners from someone like them, but they just looked like hungry pigs.

You frowned and carefully glanced at Charlos' other wife next to you. When she looked back, you motioned towards the stairs with your eyes. She widened her eyes in shock and shook her head, telling you to stop having crazy ideas.

If you were honest to yourself, you didn't even know what your plan was. You went through some ideas in your head.

Plan A was running, nothing else. But you ditched that plan quickly, they would just catch you or make your collar explode. Plan B was better, attacking them to get a chance to get rid of the collar. But how? The guards in the auction house said even attempting to remove it would trigger the explosion. Both of these possibilities weren't perfect, but you didn't have a plan C either.

However, fate decided to play in your favour.

A young waiter was coming up the stairs with another plate for the nobles, which was filled up to the brim with food. He visibly struggled balancing the silver platter and just before he reached the safety of the table, the plate wobbled dangerously, and he lost concentration. With wide eyes you watched as the plate tipped over in his hands, comically slow. The waiter tried to catch it, but he only made it worse. Mid-air, he hauled the plate towards Charlos and his family instead of catching it and the dish landed on their faces with a splattering sound.

The whole situation seemed like a theatre play. Before you could even think twice about it, you used the confusion around you to roughly yank at the leash that was connected to Charlos' chair, resulting in it tipping over with him on it. With a loud thud, his body hit the ground. Shalria and Roswald shrieked, trying to wipe the food away from their faces. Charlos tried to get up, but he just rolled around on his back like a fat bug.

"Shalria!", he yelled from the floor, "get the remote!"

This was your cue. You made a beeline for the stairs, carefully not to trip over the poor waiter. You pulled him up by the collar.

"You need to run, they'll kill you", you said and then looked back at the other enslaved woman, who was still standing there motionless. She shook her head and didn't budge, and you knew that she was too scared to run. It was her decision though, you couldn't help her if she didn't want it.

The leash was rustling behind you as you hurried down the stairs. If Charlos got a hold of the remote to make your collar explode it would be over for you, but it would still be better than being tortured and raped in Mary Geoise until they disposed of you.

Since the nobles were still screaming their heads of, you figured that they still hadn't found it.

At the end of the stairs, you quickly jumped into the kitchen, past some waiters who wanted to attend the scene on the landing.

"Ok, what do I do now", you panted, running around the room hurriedly. While scanning the counters and appliances with your eyes, they fell on a big pot of cooking oil.

With no hesitation, you grabbed the pot and poured the oil over your head and the explosive collar. If you tried hard enough, you could squeeze your head through it with the help of the greasy liquid.

"Hot!", you swore when the oil hit your skin, but luckily it wasn't hot enough to burn you.

You sat on the floor, rubbing the oil over your head and neck. Suddenly, the collar started beeping and you put two and two together. It was only a matter of time until the collar would explode. Breathing heavily and stretching your neck as far as possible, you pulled on it with slippery hands.

"Please... please. Come. Off!", you cried and with one last pull, the collar slipped over your head, landing on the floor next to you. You felt a sharp pain in your ears from the collar going past them, but you had to ignore that for now.

Your breathing picked up when the collar started beeping faster and you kicked it mindlessly, to get it as far away from you as possible. You managed to kick it a good meter farther and the collar exploded with a loud noise. The impact pushed you to your back and your ears were ringing.

A sharp pain travelling from your foot up to your hip pulled you back into reality. The explosion had been too close after all, and you saw your leg bleeding.

"Oh my god", you panted, and tears were threatening to blur your vision. Reading about such things in books was way different than seeing yourself being actually hurt, and the pain was numbing your head.

I don't have time for this, you thought and pulled your leg up carefully, wiping the tears away. You had another look around the kitchen and found some towels and a roasted piece of meat with some string around it.

Somehow, you heaved yourself up, finding support on the counters. The string around the meat easily came off and the paper towels weren't far either.

"Ok, I know what to do. I learned this", you said while wrapping the towels around your injured leg. You hissed when the material touched the wound, but it couldn't be helped. You tried your best tying the string around it and when it felt like it could last a while, you started limping towards a door at the end of the kitchen that you assumed would lead outside.

It was only a matter of time until the nobles came after you, so you approached the door as fast as possible. Luckily, it wasn't locked, and you peered through the frame. You were right, it did lead outside and even better, you couldn't see anybody. When the door fell back, you could hear aggravated screaming outside the kitchen door.

"What am I paying you stupid bodyguards for! If you don't find that slut, I will feed your guts to the dogs!" That was Charlos, who had apparently called his bodyguards inside the restaurant for a little help.

You couldn't afford to think about the consequences of your escape if they found you, so instead you picked up your pace. Your leg hurt like hell, but you would have to deal with it later. Your primary goal was to survive.

When another wave of adrenaline hit you, you started running in the direction that would lead you the farthest away from the restaurant. Charlos and his guard dogs would surely find you in no time if you hesitated, although it was getting dark outside.

"Shit", you exclaimed when you saw where you had ended up after a good minute of running. It was the shore, and there was no way to run any further. Sabaody was made of several small islands, but there wasn't a bridge or anything that would lead you to the next island. If you ran along the shore, they would spot you instantly.

Anxiously, you looked around. The only thing you spotted was a ships mast behind a tree. No matter who this ship belonged to, it was your only hope. The furious voice of Charlos rang in your ears and you made your way towards the ship.

It seemed like there was no one aboard and when you were close enough, you wanted to shout out to them, but you decided against it when Charlos' voice came closer. There was no ladder on the ship, so you had to think quickly.

The adrenaline made the pain in your leg more bearable, and you managed to jump high enough to grab the gunwale. You lost the hold as soon as you wanted to haul yourself on deck, since your hands were still slippery from the oil. You tried to hold onto the hull, but to no avail. With a loud splashing sound, you landed in the ice-cold water.

"Shi-", you hissed and cursed Charlos' clothing choice for you. The coldness was all around your body and you were afraid that you'd freeze to death, although the sea water soothed your injured leg.

"Guards!", bellowed Charlos' nasal voice and your heartbeat picked up instantly.

They found me!

You pressed your body under water and as close to the bottom of the hull as possible. If they couldn't see you, they would maybe retreat. Your heart beat so fast that you thought it was impossible to overhear from where they stood. But instead of checking the water, the men jumped on the ship.

"Search that ship and then come back immediately!", Charlos ordered, and you prayed that they wouldn't sink it when they were done. It was your only hiding spot.

Shalria's shrill voice came from the distance. "Brother! Brother come back quick, wife 10 tried to escape but we managed to stop her!"

Charlos tsked angrily, turned on his heel and his guards left the ship. They slowly went back to the restaurant, and he muttered inaudible things under his breath, sounding very upset.

Wife 10 tried to escape... that poor woman, why didn't she come with me!

The other woman's fate was settled. It was surely over for her, and you felt guilty that you didn't take her with you, by force if necessary. But it was too late. It was a miracle that you managed to escape, and luck had really been on your side tonight.

By now, the sea water had washed away the oil, and you started another attempt at climbing up the hull, digging your fingers into the bumpy wood as hard as possible. Maybe you could treat your wounds on the ship and find something to eat, in the best case some new clothes. This was probably a ship belonging to some merchants or something. If you explained your situation to them, they'd surely understand.

It was a particularly dark night, so you did neither see that the bow was actually a dinosaur skull, nor the pirate flag swaying proudly in the breeze. A white skull with fiery red hair and goggles glanced down on you and watched you as you intruded the ship.

You didn't make it far because a wave of fatigue washed over you, so you decided to sit down first. Immediately you regretted that decision because it took away the adrenaline and you now felt the pain in your entire body. Your leg, your ears and your hands were the worst. You shivered in your wet, skimpy clothes and hugged your body tightly to gain some warmth.

For the first time since the start of your escape, you felt empty and lost. You had thought that it would become better, that being away from the world nobles would make your situation more hopeful, but nothing changed. You had nowhere to go. Your parents were still dead, everyone at home was dead. You didn't know where your brother was and no way of finding out. You had never been told where exactly Deku-sama lived and walking around on Sabaody wasn't an option either.

For now, you could only sit around on this ship. You wanted to stand up, to at least find a blanket and some food, but at the same time you wanted to sit in the freezing cold to numb the pain. Finally, you were able to cry. It was relieving to at least feel some kind of emotion.

Violent sobs racked your body and the planks below you turned dark with tears. At last, you could let it all out. You curled up into a ball on the wooden planks. It must have been pitiful to look at, and you wished for someone to pull you into their arms, rocking you back and forth to comfort you. You craved the gentle embrace of your mother or even just your father patting your back. Something, just some kind of physical comfort. But you would never feel that kind of tender care again because everyone was gone.

After what felt like hours of crying, your tears had dried and only occasionally you let out a quiet whimper. You didn't know if the physical or the emotional pain was worse. The makeshift bandage on your leg was merely a piece of cloth now, but at least the bleeding had stopped. You looked at the throbbing limb and tried to concentrate on something other than the obvious pain.

It was useless. The crying and the pain took a toll on your body, and you slowly slipped into a rough sleep, feeling as numb as never before.

You woke up startled, scurrying around on the deck because of one of many nightmares that you had since you were abducted. You blinked rapidly, trying to make out your surroundings. It was dawn already and you could finally see what kind of ship you climbed onto. It was quite colourful, a black mast and sail, a green galley, red quarters, and a giant yellow skull in the front. A very odd merchant ship.

A giant yellow skull in the front? A black sail... there's a skull with flames on said sail..., you thought, looking up.

"Holy shit, not again!", you exclaimed while letting your eyes roam the ship. Again, you had somehow ended up on a fucking pirate ship. A brutal looking one at that. It was a lot larger than the ship of that dirty captain and looked more special. There was no doubt that it belonged to a ruthless pirate crew.

Loud chattering and hoarse laughter shifted your attention towards the shore. Carefully, you peeked over the railing. You saw a group of men in the distance, making their way towards the ship. With wide eyes you watched them banter with each other, but soon your eyes fell on the tall man walking in the middle, who didn't engage in the playful antics of the others.

He just smirked, carrying a bottle of alcohol in his right hand, his left hand stuffed in his trouser pockets leisurely. He wore a dark, heavy looking fur coat with golden spikes and a thin leather bandolier around his chest, holding a dagger and a small gun.

You looked at the sail above you, then back at his face. No doubt, it was his jolly roger up there. The fiery red hair and the goggles on his forehead were definitely his trademark. You studied his appearance a little more, even though you were scared to your bones.

His height was impressive. He was the tallest among the crew and the fur coat didn't hide his bare chest, his muscular torso clearly visible. His amber eyes, no, his whole face was intimidating. It took you a few seconds to realise that he didn't have eyebrows, but it didn't look ridiculous. He had red lips, kind of matching his hair.

You found yourself staring at him a little too long, not really knowing why. Something just drew you to him. His face and demeanour screamed danger, but he somehow fascinated you with his confident stance and his fierce eyes. His presence was overwhelming, although not in a bad way. He was different from the other men you had met in your life.

You should have escaped the ship while you still had time, but you had lost yourself in the man's eyes. When you came back to your senses, the group had nearly reached the ship, and you hurried to the other side of the deck to jump into the water. Finding a hideout on Sabaody to look for an innocent soul to help you or the marines seemed a better option than staying on yet another pirate ship, even with the world nobles at your heels.

You wanted to run but your leg didn't really allow it. With a few last limps, you barely reached the opposite railing. A whooshing sound behind you made you halt and turn around. The huge shadow of the man in the fur coat blocked the rising sun as he jumped onto the deck. Frozen in shock, you missed the last chance of escaping into the water.

With doe eyes, you watched him as he landed in front of you, inspecting your sitting frame with a frown.

"Who the fuck are you and why are you on my fucking ship?"

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emmikmil · 3 years

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give him a show

Pairing: Steve Murphy x Female!Reader with Javi watching...

Rating: 18+ EXPLICIT read the warnings y’all, please

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Exhibitionism/Voyeurism (ALL parties consenting!), Oral (M and F receiving), Masturbation (M), Smut P in V) THIS IS FICTIONAL OK BE SAFE IRL PEEPS. A literal smack to the face, biting/marking, choking, very brief anal play.

A/N: wow this fic... is something lol. It's been an idea and half written for a couple months now and I'm happy it's finally finished!! big shout out to @soyelfuegoquearde for the beta read and @knivesareout for being the best and waiting so long. Enjoy!

“Last call for drinks before we start this movie fellas!” Steve flicks his eyes up and down your frame as you stand above him and his work partner Javier with your arms crossed, waiting expectantly. Javi snaps out of his daze and quietly asks for another beer. Steve smiles and shakes his head when you turn to him, as he’s still nursing his lukewarm beer from dinner. This has been a ritual between you three the past few months, Javi would join the two of you for dinner and a movie whenever time allowed. Steve had seen it in your eyes the moment Javi made a joke about barely cooking for himself, the ‘oh god, this man needs an actual home-cooked meal’ kind of look. So, dinner and movie nights happened as often as it could, tonight being one of those nights.

Steve narrows his eyes and lets out a quiet huff as he watches Javi watch your swinging hips as you walk back to the kitchen. It had bothered Steve in the beginning when Javi would stare at your ass, but as soon as he realized Javi did this with nearly every woman that passed him, Steve didn’t take it to heart. There was no sense in causing a rift just because he felt territorial over his girl. That doesn’t mean, however, that he can’t poke a little bit at his friend.

"Wanna borrow my polaroid, Peña?" His words seem to shake Javi from his daze and he has the courtesy to look ashamed as he scratches the back of his neck. “Don’t get me wrong I get it, she has a great ass, amongst other things...” the last bit being muttered into his beer bottle and Steve can’t help his sly grin when he sees Javi’s eyes grow wide.

“Hey baby, you wanna go ahead and start on that popcorn?” Steve asks as you saunter back into the room and hand Javi his beer. You offer Steve a wink and a mock salute before you turn and walk back to the kitchen. Once you’re safely out of earshot, Steve turns his eyes back to Javi. “Look, I trust you, she and I both do, so that’s why I’m about to give you an offer. You say no, that’s fine, just throwing it out there.” Javi looks incredibly suspicious as he sips his beer. but makes a gesture with his hand for Steve to continue. “My girl likes to be watched. Likes giving a show to people while she’s being fucked. I’m not sayin’ I share now, I don’t. She likes the thrill of having eyes on her and she’s missed it since we left Miami and the few people we trusted, so…”

” Steve stops to make sure Javi is keeping up. He’s not totally freaking out like Steve thought he would which is a plus. “So if you were to pass out just before the credits roll, I take my girl to the bedroom and leave the door half open…You can watch, touch yourself, take a damn picture for all I care. But if you take one step in that room without her and I agreeing to it, there's gonna be problems for you, you got me?”

“What if I’m not interested?” Even though Javi asks, Steve can tell by the look in his eyes and the slight flush to his cheeks that he is. in fact, very interested.

“Finish the movie and leave like always, it’s up to you man.” With that, the conversation ends as you stroll back in with the popcorn and plop down between the two men. Steve leans over to pop a piece into his mouth as you press play on the remote. Steve settles in, smirking as Javi eyes you carefully and settles in to half-heartedly watch the movie.

-------

" No, Steve leave him there, poor guy is sleeping for once." you whisper as Steve leaned over you to shake Javi awake. You bat his hand away and stand to gently lay the throw blanket from the couch over Javis’s slightly snoring form. Steve stands quickly and wraps his arm around your waist as you bend and reach for the dishes on the coffee table.

"Leave it darlin', I'll clean up in the morning, just come on to bed," he whispers in your ear and places gentle kisses down the side of your neck. He sucks gently on your pulse point and grips your waist harder as he feels you shiver. You're quick to grab his hand and lead him to the bedroom, but Steve doesn't make the journey easy. He's fueled by your giggles and warm skin and can't help but pull at your clothes and suck on your neck as you both stumble down the hall. Steve gains some of his senses back as you both pass the threshold of your bedroom and he grabs your hips harshly, pulling you back into his chest.

As one hand travels up from your hip to gently hold your throat he speaks "Strip, get on your knees on the bed and face me." Steve tightens his hand until a whimper escapes you. Satisfied, he releases you and with his heavy gaze on you, you strip quickly to kneel on the bed. Steve pushes the door to close a bit and moves to stand at the foot of the bed.

“Now come on honey, get to work.". Steve can’t help but smirk as you roll your eyes and reach for his belt buckle. You don’t waste any time in releasing him from his pants and boxers and sneaks a small lick to the head of his cock before pulling his pants down. Steve kicks them off and yanks his shirt off, throwing it off to the corner. He hisses and looks down as you bite the thin skin near his hip bone and suck harshly. You both know that he bruises like a peach and would have this mark for damn near a week. Steve’s hand reaches for your hair, fisting it in his hand. He knew you were eager, just as much as he was, but you were feisty with your teases tonight.

“You really wanna rush this, handsome?” you tease as you stroke him to his full hardness. Steve grunts and gives a firm tug to your hair and shoots you a warning glare. He can see your teasing glint in your eyes dim knowing right now he’s not up for playing games. Steve watches with heavy lids as you take him into your mouth, going at a slow pace before you build up to suck him further down your throat.

“That’s it, you be a good girl and you get rewarded. Tease me and I'll make your night hell.” Steve smirks as he looks down at you. You were so engrossed in his cock you didn't even notice the small shift of light from the hallway as a figure stands at the half-open door. Steve knew that his hand on your throat, a few praises, and the promise of a reward would get your mind hazy with lust; just enough to dull your other sense and not notice Javi at the door.

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From his spot at the door, Javi saw a mouth-watering sight. He had the perfect view of the tantalizing act taking place before him; the silhouette of you, your hair wrapped around Steve's hand, your eyes closed, mouth and throat full to the brim with cock. Javi has to bite his fist to keep from making a sound as he watches your throat constrict and swallow around Steve's cock. From a glance, Javi knew his cock was thicker and the images in his mind of your lips stretched out even more over his length had him unbuckling his jeans as quietly and quickly as possible. Javi has been hard ever since Steve had offered this scene to him on a damn silver platter. He thanks his lucky stars that staring at your ass landed him here and not with a punch to the face.

He keeps one fist between his teeth, not wanting to give his position away, and the other he grabs his leaking dick and matches the pace you’ve set for Steve. By now you have gotten into the groove, and it’s no longer slow and sensual. You were taking all of Steve’s cock that you could and christ, Javi could tell you knew exactly what you were doing. Javi could hear you make small moans with whatever Steve was whispering to you and then Steve is thrusting his hips, driving himself into your mouth even deeper. Javi knows for a fact that his dreams tonight would be filled with nothing but the sounds of your gags and slurps. This was by far the sloppiest blowjob Javi has ever seen and to his utter shock, his abdomen tightens and he spills his load all over his hand. He has been so focused on you he didn’t even notice how fast his orgasm had been building, and his eyes were watering with the effort of keeping quiet. As the last spurts of cum coated his hand and splatters on his shirt, he watches through hazy eyes as Steve pulls out of your mouth, a string of your saliva stretched between your swollen and parted lips and the flushed head of Steve’s cock. If Javi had the ability to cum again right then and there he knew he would.

-------

Steve wipes your chin and mouth gently before kissing you softly. "Alright now, let me get a taste sweet thing, lie back for me." It's almost comical to him how fast your legs swing around so you can lie back, your head just missing the pillows at the top. Steve grabs your ankles and pulls your body closer to him, settling you near the edge of the bed. He smiles wolfishly down at you as you throw your hand over your mouth, already covering it in anticipation of what's to come.

He kneels to spread your thighs and begins to pepper sweet kisses from one ankle to the seam of your leg and back down. Steve smirks as you shift below him and thrust your hips up whimpering and telling him to hurry the hell up already. Now because you’ve sassed back, Steve uses no mercy in getting some sweet revenge. He bites harshly into your inner thigh like you did with his hip earlier, and soothes the spot with his tongue. He continues like this for a couple of minutes, leaving bites on each thigh that will leave you marked for at least three days after. Steve finally feels generous and shows you mercy, licking up your cunt and circling around your clit expertly with his tongue. Your sigh turns to a gasp as he takes both your legs, bending your knees to your chest as he suckles on your clit. You're so drunk on the feel of his mouth you don't notice him angling your body so Javi could see your dripping core from the doorway.

Steve continues to lap at your folds hungrily, showing you just as much attention as you showed him. He listens to your whimpers grow higher in pitch, moving to slow down and trace lazy circles around your clit and tease you entrance with his fingers. He waits until your whimpers die down a little before he plunges two of his long fingers inside you, groaning as he leaves your clit when you scramble to muffle the loud gasp you let out. Steve uses his free hand to move your legs back down and kisses up your body as he slowly finger fucks you. When he reaches your face he grabs your hand that's covering your mouth and moves it away. As you go to cover your mouth again, Steve clicks his tongue in disapproval. "No ma'am, you're gonna let the whole building hear how good i’m making ya feel."

"But...but Javi is still-fuck- he's asleep and could wake-" Steve cuts you off with a hard kiss and he looks down at you, that predatory glint in his eyes. He starts to thrust his fingers faster and Steve smiles as you jerk beneath him.

"Now honey, you can't wake a man who's already watching you from the door." Steve damn near laughs at your wide eyes and the hitch in your breath. He eyes your torso up and down as you turn your head to look at the shadow in the doorway. Steve watches you turn back to him, a deep fire lit in your eyes.

"He agreed to it?" Steve just nods to confirm your question and stills his hand to give you a gentle kiss on your sweaty forehead and leans back to look you in the eye. Before he can ask you whisper “Can he come in? Where i can see him?” Steve just nods again and slowly starts to finger fuck you again.

Steve starts to trail kisses down your body and nestles back between your thighs. He then turns his attention to the doorway. “Alright Javi, you can come in.'' As the door creaks open and Javi steps into view, Steve can’t help but still his hand inside you and laugh at the sight; Javi, with his pants undone, cock half-hard, cum dripping from his hand and splattered on his shirt, eyes wide and cheeks flushed. Steve, however, is struck silent with a firm smack to the face. His head whips around to glare at your sweet face smiling brightly at the dumbstruck agent in your doorway.

“There’s tissues on the nightstand and the chair is right there Javi.” You gesture to the chair in the corner, with the perfect view of you and the bed. Steve isn’t impressed as you turn your smile back to him as you lie back down on the bed, but he smiles back just as sweet as he pulls his fingers out of you and stands up and away from you. As he stares down at you, he sees Javi in his peripheral and notices his cock jumping as you whine and plead out a pathetic apology to get him back. Instead, Steve just stares at you, before turning his head to Javi.

“Go ahead and get comfortable. Lubes in the top drawer. And you-” his blazing eyes returning back to stare at you “-you flip over and show me your pretty ass. You slap me, I’ll slap back honey, now move.” He watches as you quickly follow his command, and once you're on your hands and knees he grips your hip with one hand and delivers a sharp smack to your ass, the sounds reverberating off the walls of the small room along with your shout. Steve makes sure to smooth the area over with his hand and bends to give it a small kiss.

“Ya know honey,“ Steve stands and grips his cock, running it through your wet folds as you whimper at the feeling. "he’s been staring at your ass for weeks now, haven’t you Peña?” Steve looks up to watch as you and Javi lock eyes. Javi’s eyes burn with desire and he's clearly more comfortable, now naked and slowly stroking his lube slicked cock. Steve didn’t even have to look at you to know that your eyes were following Javi's every movement as you wiggle your hips to get Steve to slip in. He’s careful not to slide in just yet, instead Steve stares at Javi until he flicks his eyes off of you. “Bet you’d like her like this Javi, it's the perfect view.” Steve then suddenly pulls away and gives your other ass cheek a punishing slap, and as you yelp and shake he grips your hips and enters you in one quick thrust. Steve bends to nip and kiss your shoulder as you get your breath back and adjust for a moment.

Steve stands at his full height and slowly starts thrust in, being mindful of the first half dozen or so to get you warmed up before he really starts to pound into you. He keeps a steady pace, not too fast, but it's deep and the rhythmic slap of skin fills the room. Steve’s eyes go from watching his cock slip in and out of you to Javi, who is watching your body with rapt attention.

Since you are a little too cock drunk to be coherent and smack him again, Steve can’t help but tease his friend more. “Ya know the only thing better than her pussy is her ass. I know you’re an ass man and damn if you ask nicely she’d let ya shove your cock up there. And shit, she sure.is.tight.” he punctuates the last words with hard thrusts that make you fall to your elbows and scream into the blankets. Steve pulls out, despite your growling protests, and bends to spit on the crack of your ass. He watches his saliva slide down and swipes his thumb through the mess and carefully pushes, adding just the slightest of pressures against your tight hole. The pressure he adds is gone as fast as it appeared and he slides back into your dripping core. As he settles into a brutal pace, your gasps and moans start to get higher and higher in pitch, Steve is damn close too, and Javi is sweating and panting as he fucks his fist in earnest. Steve can’t help himself and asks one last question. “What would you do to her right now, huh Javi?”

With his eyes glazed over, it takes a few seconds for Javi to finally speak. “Bring-bring her up and hold her throat, ch-choke her a bit.” Javi has to bite his lip and take a few breathes so he doesn’t spill his load prematurely, again. Steve however, smiles wickedly as you clench around him tightly and moan.

Both men falter for a moment when, in your dazed state you mumble, “Fuck yes, please Javi please.” Javi is the first to respond with a muttered oh fuck as he throws his head back, and Steve takes action immediately. He scoops you up, just like Javi said, and holds your throat, gentle but firm. Just enough to make you gasp and reach for his arm as you arch into him. Steve picks up his pace, spurred on by your words, but still not wanting to let you off the hook.

“You can say his name all you want honey, but you will scream my name as you cum, cause this pussy belongs to me.” Steve closes his eyes as he pounds his last few thrusts into you. He can hear Javi let out a long groan and knows his words set his friend off the precipice, and the combination of Steve and Javi has sent you stuttering and crying out a weak shout of Steve’s name. As you break down, Steve holds your shivering body close, cradling your waist and shoulders as he stays deep in you and paints your walls.

Steve is careful to set you down, lying on your side to face Javi as he goes to get you a warm cloth, knowing you're too sensitive to be held closely right now. He steps back in the room, silently passing an extra rag to Javi and slowly cleans you. As Steve climbs in behind you to cuddle you close, Javi stands and dresses slowly. The air in the room is hot and sticky, but the silence doesn't make things uncomfortable. As Javi slips on his shirt, Steve speaks up “Thanks Peña, my girl enjoyed herself. Hope you did too.”

Javi chuckles as he takes one last look over your naked body. “Best movie night you’ve invited me to.” Both men smile as you let out a small laugh and nod to each other as you turn to snuggle further into Steve. He pulls you closer, kissing your forehead and giving you praise for how well you did for him, for both of them. You drift off to sleep as Javi slips out through the front door, all three of you wondering if maybe every movie night should end this way.

#steve murphy x reader #steve murphy x female reader #javier peña #narcos fanfiction #emmikmilwrites

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sinkix · 4 years

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~ Haikyuu!! Boys baking with reader - Ft. Ushijima, Tendou, Oikawa, Hinata & Nishinoya ~

YO! SO UHHHH... I’M BACK??? I GUESS?? MAYBE??? After a little break I had this in my drafts for a while and realllyyy wanted to complete it since it’s such a cute concept. Honestly at this point my posting frequencies are so sporadic and random pls forgive me lmao.

@deathcab4daddy gave me the inspo to include Ushi and it was so funny coming up with ideas for him, he is no.1 country boi chef

Dude I’m listening to the Mario Kart soundtrack ‘Coconut Mall’ while I continue writing this someone save me. Like u think I’m joking. UR WRONG.

Ushijima:

The most straightforward yet idiotic baker you will ever come across.

Before you even THINK about performing step 1, he will read the entire fucking leaflet like it’s a Shakesperean monologue.

INGREDIENTS INCLUDED.

LIKE SIS I DIDN’T NEED TO KNOW IT CONTAINS MONOCALCIUM PHOSPHATE THANK YOU.

I’m surprised he doesn’t count every single particle in the brownie mix.

You bought him a frilly cupcake-printed apron stating ‘best wife’ not expecting him to actually wear it

But since he’s secretly a big softie and treasures anything you buy he wears it proudly.

His stoic and dignified disposition is a comical contrast to the words printed on the front lmao.

Ushi best wifey bro.

The tight fit of the apron is pretty hot since it outlines every ridge of his pecs and tightly toned torso.

Gotta resist groping your mans while stirring the brownie batter.

tbh he’s more likely to grope you, he can’t resist that a$$.

And let’s face it he’s def an ass/thigh kinda guy.

Can and will try to casually initiate some form of unholy activities by lifting you up onto the kitchen counter, goading you to slowly lick the spoon and locking gazes before pulling you in for a deep, open-mouthed kiss to get a taste of the incomplete creation himself.

Ushi’s lips and brownie batter are a knock-out combo js.

Literally has the most serious face when he’s cracking the eggs into the bowl

The amount of concentration is equivalent to that of when he’s performing a serve at match-point.

HAS to set the temperature to the EXACT degree stated on the box

Everything is done by the book if you do one thing out of place he will pull you up on it lol.

“(Y/N) you were supposed to stir it for 5 minutes, not 7.”

When its done you feed him some and he can’t help but smile its so ADORBALE AHHH.

You end up eating most of it since Ushi doesn’t strike me as much of a chocolate/junk food lover.

STILL A VERY FUN BUT F R U S T R A T I N G EXPERIENCE.

Tendou:

The complete opposite of Ushi

Does everything wrong and the unconventional way.

Absolute disaster but doesn’t even sweat it since Tendou basically thrives in chaos and the disorderly.

To him instructions are purely equivocal, will read them for five seconds then toss them away.

Step aside Gordon Ramsey, Chef Tendou is here.

Despite doing everything the unorthodox way it still comes out amazing.

Like??? how???

Will cheekily place a dollop batter on your nose then lick it off fh3jkeffefds

Or if he’s feelin’ a lil freaky, he’ll swipe it off with his long ass finger and make you suck it clean, smirking at your submission as you coat his finger with your saliva.

oop-

Constantly cracking jokes and shitty food puns, pretending to drop the bowl to make you go into preemptive cardiac arrest before you can swat him with the spatula.

While you’re waiting for the timer to ping, Satori being the schemer he is will use this as an opportunity to pull some fuckery and tease you in any way he can.

u better be praying like bodhisattva TanaNoya rn because he is MERCILESS.

Suggestive comments, the brush of his fingers against your thigh, it’ll leave you A C H I N G in frustration by the end of it.

Unholy activities aside, once your baking session is completed you finish it off by feeding PHAT forkfuls of brownie to each other and giggling like dorks when it gets all over your mouth.

The jackass actually got a fingerful and SMEARED it over your cheek and forehead, drawing a little cross and snickering when the crumbs fall onto your nose.

Tendou was smart to draw a cross bc he gonna need jesus with the ATTACK you launch on him after that, which promptly leads to an all out food war in your kitchen that neither of you want to clean up after ward.

Don’t worry though it’s Tendou, he’ll somehow find a way to make such a mundane activity fun.

Nishinoya:

stirs WAY TOO VIOLENTLY

IT’S LIKE AN ELECTRIC WHISK ON OVERDRIVE.

IT WILL SPLATTER OVER THE COUNTER, CUPBOARDS AND EVERYTHING YOU HOLD DEAR WITHIN A 1 MILE RADIUS.

You best believe he will try and eat some of the batter and you have to swat the spoon away from his mouth since he has NO REGARD FOR THE FACT HE COULD GET SALMONELLA.

Plus you know what Noya’s like once he starts eating something the whole thing will be gone in a matter of milliseconds.

He somehow managed to get Baking powder EVERYWHERE and even gave him self a little moustache with it.

The white substance kinda looked like something else but you didn’t really wanna say lmaooo.

could explain why he has so much energy all the time oK ILL STOP-

While you’re putting the mix on the tray he is SO extra and will do fancy lil swirls and over extend his arm like a swan to gracefully spread the batter

until he nearly fucking knocks it over.

During processing time since he is so excitable and impatient you best believe he’s gonna suggest a game of ping pong or something because my guy can well and truly never sit still.

ping pong match with the spatulas, kitchen island and a hard boiled egg.

Pls be careful he will rolling thunder that egg and pimp slap it so hard with the spatula it’ll damn near give you a concussion, not intentionally, but like protect your noggin. Wear a helmet.

For the remaining 5 minutes of baking time y’all just sit like kids in front of the oven and watching it rise like starved hyena’s observing it’s pray before demolishing it into sad particles of cocoa.

And lemme tell u, once the timer pings, that baking tray is free real estate for Noya. Half of your creation will be devoured before you can even put it on a plate and marvel at your handiwork.

He kicked your ass at spatula ping pong btw I’m sorry sweaty but short kings stay winning.

Oikawa:

Such a dramatic bitch like he got the whole she-bang going on.

Strapped with a pink apron, a whisk at his side and standing proudly with both hands on his hips.He is prepared like a greek gladiator going into battle.

You better believe he gonna make some snarky remarks and tease your method of doing things.

“Ah-ah-ahhh (Y/N)-chan you’re doing it all wrong, let me show you how a PRO does it.”

Proceeds to drop entire bowl on his foot and yelp like a little girl in pain.

Well and truly embarrassed with himself, you put a band-aid on his toe and he piped down after that.

Shattered big toe and mixing bowl aside, actually a really good baker??

He is a PRO at decorating, y’all decided on cupcakes since its literally his forte to make them look aesthetic and pretty.

You almost don’t wanna eat them from how good they look.

jk almost

You take it in turns breaking bits off and placing pieces into each others mouth with a loud “aaaaaahhh!”

Places a piece in your mouth, leans forward and locks lips with you in a soft, passionate kiss before pulling away and uttering the words “It tastes even better coming from your mouth ;)”

hnnnNNGGGGGGggGg.

You both whine and bicker over who cleans up after.

“You cleaaannnnn!”

“no Toru YOU clean!”

“but I made the cupcakes look pretty :(”

“not as pretty as you <3″

He did the cleaning after that.

Like just stroke his ego with some compliments and he’s whipped with a smug grin on his face for the next 30 minutes.

You decide to save the rest and bring them to his next practise.

Literally on the verge of tears when he sees you beaming and holding the platter of treats, Kiyotani mauls half of them in a matter of seconds to which Oiks gets salty over LMAO.

Hinata:

So excited oh my god he’s so precious please protect him I will CRY-

Has a little sunflower apron on and JBJKNDDDKDW IM SMILING JUST IMAGINING HIM FIDGETING IN EXCITEMENT OVER THE THOUGHT OF BAKING COOKIES.

Yes you decided on cookies bc he goes rabid for some choc chip biccies.

You have to guide him v carefully because of how easily confused and clumsy he is.

Cannot for the life of him crack the eggs without getting a quarter of the shell in the bowl so you have to do it instead.

Has a surprising amount of strength and forearm power bc holy shit boy can stir FAST.

Hums a little tune while he does it and bobs up and down with a wide grin on his face it’s so adorable, he has such a gentle singing voice I can’t-

Attempts different shapes with the batter when pouring it onto the tray but fails pretty miserably lol.

he tried ok???

Once they’re done he takes the tray out of the oven and since it was heavy, subconsciously propped it with his knee and nearly dropped the entire tray from the pain. (I’ve actually done this before when making chicken nuggets I do not advise being that brain dead)

Had to put some burn cream on the bbies knee :’((

When you decided to dig in, he handed you a cookie that looked like a crooked circle and said he tried to make that one a heart and insisted he feed it to you.

Blushed VERY hard at the moment of silence and intense eye contact while he fed it to you.

Nearly short circuited when his fingers brushed against your lips.

Moe moe x100000000000000000000000000000

You offer to do the cleaning after because he hurt himself and you didn’t wanna make him do any work, but he still offered to wipe the surfaces for you bc he’s an angel <333

literally just wanna marry him.

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thedevildomdaily · 3 years

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Demonic Possessions Ch5: Diners Demons & Disasters

Note: Here's the Master List for the full story. I recommend reading my stuff on my actual Blog if you enjoy OM! official music! Thank you so much for the support. Please let me hear from you in the comment section. I wanna talk OM!

Warnings: Language...for now.

___________________________

When they arrived at Hell’s kitchen, folks cleared out of the Avatar of Gluttony’s way. Lena barely caught on to the many eyes drawn their way. She was famished and excited for her first dining-out experience in the Devildom.

“Your usual table is read-” Beel whizzed past the waiter, “-y.”

“Uhm, thank you…” Lena awkwardly nodded and quickly followed after the giant. She was afraid of not getting to eat anything on the account that he would clean them out of everything. That’s what Leviathan and Satan had warned them about earlier when they were shopping for room decor.

Speaking of the dev….you know, Satan and Mammon entered the place, causing the rest of the customers to flinch and stare with panic at their state. The blonde had caught a hold of his older brother’s jacket collar and was leading him, in his disheveled glory, to the waiter. There were many words exchanged. And soon, the owner of the establishment arrived with the check they were both after.

The rest of the group had managed to meet up with the more excited ones, filing in quietly, like normal customers. “There you are…” Simeon said, being the first to spot Lena and Beel. She was peeking over at his menu, asking questions about the ingredients.

“Was it really necessary to make a mad dash like that Lena? You’re making us look bad…” Zak looked embarrassed.

Lilly chuckled as she took her usual seat across from Lena. “If you’re worried about images that way, you picked the wrong crowd to hang with.”

“She’s right! These demon brothers are always causing scenes. Usually it’s over being selfish!” Luke added. The little pup took a liking to Zak after some demon started teasing him in the hallway, on the way to their next class. Simeon was busy talking with Solomon and Satan about their homework, so Zak was the only one around to aid him.

When everyone was seated, drinks were served. The group's banter filled the establishment and it felt like a cozy pub in an RPG, as Lena described to Leviathan sitting to her right. The group ordered so much, the owner had to start turning away other patrons.Then walked in the trio. You know, only the most intimidating demons in all of the Devildom.

“Wow! Fancy meeting all of you here!” Lord Diavolo boasted.

Lucifer gave a long sigh and glared at him with the response, “You knew they were all going to be here didn’t you? That’s why you were so insistent on it.”

Both Diavolo and Barbatos deflected Lucifer’s words and began to take a seat at the adjacent table from the large group. Grumpy joined them and the waiter rushed promptly to get their orders. The poor young demon looked so nervous, and who could blame him?

The saying “Time flies by when you’re having fun” was no joke. This band of misfits: demons, humans, angels, and nephilim were having a blast! There were many jokes at one another’s expense, slight bickering, questions about each others’ worlds. It was the exact thing that the exchange program was about. Then came the food.

One waiter brought an actual pyramid of burgers to Beelzebub; his personal platter. Another waiter was in charge of drink refills. It was quite a mess with everyone together; Save for Luke, Lilly, and Lena the rest were freaking giants. It was hard getting food passed around to the 14 people and 1 Beel.

The previously mentioned nervous waiter was now carrying a serving tray towards the Big Three’s table. Just as he made it in front of him, Mammon quickly scooted back without looking as he yelled at Satan about his check again.

The back of the chair smacked right into the poor, unfortunate waiter. It caused him to lose balance and the tray to teeter out of his hands. It was a scene shot in slow-mo like many movies: The plates left the tray, Lucifer’s eyes were so wide, and Diavolo was caught totally off guard.

Before the food could splatter all over the prince, Lena rushed to catch everything. Her secret ability was revealed in an instant: She was fast like a comic hero. But unlike them, she wasn’t the most agile. She did manage to get the tray and get the plates back on, but she stumbled backwards, slipping on Mammon’s dropped napkin.

Her eyes were squinted shut as she braced for impact. It felt...odd. She definitely landed, but there was no hard, cold floor. No broken glass sounds. In fact she knew she still had the tray of food in her head.

When she opened her eyes, Lena saw Diavolo towering over her at an odd angle. The whole place was silent enough to hear a pin needle drop. What the fu…

“Are you okay Lena?” The prince asked.

“I don’t know if I’m being honest with you…” she looked around to see her whole table just gawking at her dumbfoundedly.

Next she took in Lucifer’s bewildered expression, followed by Barbatos. Though, he of course remained the most neutral. What’s the deal?

Then it hit her. Diavolo’s angle. He was over her. No, he was embracing her! The giant of a man had caught her just as quickly as she had caught the food from falling on him. Their current position was probably the reason why everyone was quiet. Well that, and the fact everything happened in a nanosecond.

No, Lena and Diavolo looked like they had just danced one wild tango number and ended on a dramatic dip. It was hot. Or would have been without the fucking tray of burgers and fries. Sorry, DEMON burgers and fries. For someone as stark white as she was, Lena turned red like a lobster. Diavolo even had a tiny blush that only she could see from her proximity.

“MAAAMMMOOOOOOOONNN!!!” Lucifer closed the silence with his deep, booming voice. Everyone either laughed, took pictures, or hid their faces in embarrassment as the eldest brothers made a wild game of “TAG! You’re Fucking Dead!!!”

It was a good thing too. Well, not for Mammon of course. In that moment, Barbatos assisted Lena, by taking the tray. Diavolo raised her carefully to stand back onto her feet.

“Thank you, for saving dinner and my uniform.” Diavolo chuckled.

Lena gave a sheepish smile, “And thank you for saving my uniform, and the bill for the table I would have broken.”

The rest of dinner went off without a hitch. They laughed at the pictures they managed to capture. Lilly questioned Lena about what happened and she explained to everyone that nephilim are extremely fast. They also each had an ability unique to themselves. Though she and her brothers teased the rest of the group by not telling them what those abilities were.

“Well, it looks like both Lucifer and Mammon aren’t coming back,” Azri said, taking Lucifer’s seat. He was tired of having a sleeping Belphegor trying to use his shoulder as a pillow to drool on. “I’ll box his up for one of them to take back.”

“That’s generous of you.” Barbatos replied, giving a small hint of a smile.

Azri chuckled, “It is, especially after hearing that he put my darling sister in a filthy attic with no amenities…” That didn’t go past big brother Azri. “If I may, can I skip class tomorrow in order to fix things up for her?”

Barbatos and Diavolo exchanged looks before glancing over at Lena, who had moved seats to take funny pictures with and of the sleeping Belphegor.

“I know you’re wondering why I don’t just let her do it.” Azri continued, “Something happened with her not long before she finally agreed to come here. Obviously we’re a year late to the program. I don’t want to dish out her personal stuff, but I want to do something nice for her.” He finished packing Lucifer’s dinner and added, “I also can’t stand the thought of her sleeping in a room filled with cobwebs! And I know she will do a half-ass job at cleaning it herself!”

That made Diavolo chuckle and he compared the eldest nephilim to Barbatos.

“I am not that bad, Lord Diavolo. It’s my job to ensure you're catered to and well taken care of. A prince can’t live in dirty quarters…” Barbatos responded. Although he held a smile, Azriel could see the fury in his eyes. It made him chuckle.

*****

“Le, stop that! You’ll get in trouble….again!” Zak scolded, though unable to keep from laughing. Lena was holding her phone so it looked like she was petting Belphegor’s head like a puppy while he slept.

“He looks so cute though!!!” she stuck her tongue out at her brother.

Luke sighed, “It seems that you’re as bad as Asmo…”

“I wonder…” Asmo replied teasingly, before winking and giving Lena a kissy face from across the table. She chuckled and playfully returned the kiss.

“What does that even mean?” Luke asked innocently. It caught Zak off guard. He wasn’t used to being around innocent kiddos like him. Simeon intervened, however, much to the nephilim’s relief. He wasn’t sure why the kid followed him around so much.

*****

When the group was finished with their meal, Diavolo picked up the check. He and Barbatos headed out first because they had a busy schedule ahead of them the next day. “Good night everyone!” he chuckled and waved.Several of them returned the wave and thanked him. Lena couldn’t help but blush a little when their eyes met briefly.

“Mmmh-hmmm, I saw that.” Lilly whispered, giving a mischievous grin at the nephilim.

Lena shot the human a look, “What are you even talking about?”

“Oh I saw it too Lilly. I feel a little jealous now.” Asmodeus joined in. He puffed out his bottom lip, fake pouting at Lena.

“Oh fuck off. The both of you…” she grumbled, still blushing.

The group eventually had to split off into those who would go to Purgatory Hall and those that resided in The House of Lamentation. Before they did, Zak hugged Lena and told her good night. Azriel did the same, but revealed something that annoyed her.

“Lilly, let me crash on your sofa tonight please.” She gritted as they entered the house.

Asmo pouted, “But why Darling? I thought you liked snuggling with me…”

Lena sighed and nodded, “I actually do, Asmo. It’s just that I don’t want your pretty room to be engulfed in flames in the morning…”

The group stared at the nephilim with shock and worry. Well, Belphegor didn’t because he was passed-out and being carried off to bed by a sulking Beel, who wasn’t full.

“Azri got permission to skip school tomorrow in order to remodel my bedroom.” Lena sighed, “It is absolutely sweet of him, but anything design-related...well you saw him shopping today. He goes fucking nuts. I bet he will rush in before sunrise to start.”

Lilly scratched her head. “And what about the flames?”

“Well, we’ve not known each other long enough for him to feel it appropriate that I share a bed with someone in this house...even though it’s clearly none of his fucking business. I’m a grown ass woman.”

“Yeah you are!” Lilly chimed.

“If it’s none of his business, then why the concern?” It was Satan who asked this time.

“He’s already going to be in his weird-ass mood, so the shock and insinuation would cause him to snap. It’s happened more times than I can count.” Lena sulked and shook her head.

“OOOH! So then maybe Azriel’s unique ability is pyrokinetics then?” Leviathan asked with excitement, “Like El Lumino from the Revengers comic! He gets mad and accidentally burns things like Mrs. Magnificent hover jet in The New Revengers Vol 13, issue 42: El Lumino’s Ultra Bad Day!”

Lena hesitated, but eventually nodded. “Yeah. That’s like him alright. Now, don’t get me wrong. He is progressive. He’s a chill brother, who is the most responsible one of us. It’s just when “Crazy Azri” comes out, he is too unpredictable to take any chances. If ‘overprotective brother mode’ is activated, all bets are off.” It was really embarrassing.

“He did look pretty intense back at Majolish.” Lilly nodded, remembering his trance. “But then again, I recall someone else acting like a total zombie…” She and the brothers laughed at Lena.

“Ha ha. Very funny...oh wait! The clothes!!!!” Lena zoomed up the stairs. To the others, she simply blinked out of existence.

“She’s...gone?” Satan pondered.

“Don’t underestimate the power of fashion, Satan.” Asmo chuckled, “She’s probably swimming through all of those bags in her room…”

The brothers decided to all split up for the night, returning to their own rooms. Each one of them had a small bag from Majolish hanging on their door knobs; a gift from Lena for “putting up with her during the exchange program”. They each had a tie that matched their aesthetic. Of course Satan’s was a bow tie and Asmo had a pretty Lolita-style cravat.

Lilly took both Lucifer’s and Mammon’s dinners to their rooms. Neither one had made it back, which meant it might be a couple of days before they’d get to see Mammon again. Ouch!

When she went to her room, she found Lena sitting on her couch in her pajamas with a new pillow and Hell-o Kitty blanket she’d bought on that landmark shopping trip. She had a slightly revealing tank with a skull made out of flowers and booty shorts on. Lilly bit her lip and marched straight to her bed. Why?! She asked herself. Well, they were in hell and this had to be her personal torture lingering around her room in sexy nightwear. Well anything would look sexy on Lena.

((Heatha here with smexy news. Next week’s chapter will have our first bit-o-smut ☜(ﾟヮﾟ☜)))

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atpratt · 3 years

Photo

BIG EXCITING ANNOUNCEMENT: I am going to be in Providence tomorrow for the RISD Craft alumni + student art sale and I am debuting my first Brand New Publication in almost 2 years!!: PRATT’S SPLATTERS COMBO PLATTERS! (Is the title). More info after the weekend about what is it/when/where will be available, right now all we can tell from the post is that this is the cover and you can get one tomorrow in Providence Rhode Island. #comics #art #school #alumni #sale #zine #artist #book #new #cool #publication #abstract #comic #self #portrait #monster #bompi #drawing #painting #illustration #cover #splatter #combo #platter https://www.instagram.com/p/CUx5kyaFjDX/?utm_medium=tumblr

#comics #art #school #alumni #sale #zine #artist #book #new #cool #publication #abstract #comic #self #portrait #monster #bompi #drawing #painting #illustration #cover #splatter #combo #platter

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langdonwhore · 5 years

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prophecized pain (michael x fem! reader)

Description: It turns out you aren’t the loyal satanist you thought you were, and Michael just so happens to be the one who brings that to light.

Note: Talk by Hozier is what inspired this honestly. This is my first Michael fanfic and I hope it’s up to par! I appreciate all forms of feedback! Let me know what you think.

Word Count: 1.7k (the rest of the chapters will be much longer!)

Warnings for this chapter include: Cussing.

Chapter One:

You noticed him walk in almost immediately, it was a shift in the air. He looked as if the world had almost legitimately put itself upon his shoulders. He was covered in dirt, and another substance you weren't too curious to think or ask about. His hair, heart, and soul disheveled and you felt as if you shouldn't be able to tell that about a person from their mere appearance. At least not at first glance. He had lost all hope, and you could feel it.

Far too caught up in your own head, you hadn't noticed he'd made his way to the pew you were sat at, plopping down with no mercy and staring straight ahead as the dark priest belted her beliefs to Satan's loyal followers. You snapped your head forward, careful to give the man his own sorrowed privacy. You chimed into the conversation the dark priest was arguing, laughable as it was really everyone was talking, discussing and comparing their own evil actions they had performed for their Dark Lord. Chewing your lip you raised an anxious arm to spill your latest duties, and when the dark priest called upon you, you spoke cautiously. "Lately I've been focused more on stealing money from celebrities and donating it to animal shelters." Hearing a few scoffs you curled in upon yourself. You knew the majority of the people who attended the Satanic Church were murderers, it didn't bother you because you knew they had a primal cause, a destiny to fulfill, but you weren't like most Satanists. Not really.

When the service was over you made your way to the snack deck, plopping grapes and blueberries into your mouth as everyone gathered and planned their next heists. Grabbing a cup full of juice you stared off about to take a sip when you noticed the same man from earlier was staring at the table full of sandwiches. He never made a move to grab one, eyes locked onto the snacks as if they were the forbidden fruits. Setting your pride.. and anxiety aside you took a few cautious strides towards him. He was terrifying in the most unexplainable ways. You cleared your throat and he made no move to turn towards you, only taking a deep breath and tapping his leather boot against the tile. You spoke hesitantly, "You know, you may be new, but these are for everyone and I can tell you're starving." You stepped forward to stand beside him, grabbing a plate and putting a few items onto it and gesturing it towards him. He made no move to take it from you, but turned his head toward you to scan your figure.

"You don't belong here." He spoke, turning his entire body towards you. You flinched away, something about his icy tone and stance had you uneasy. "Care to explain?" you asked him, setting the plate down, just to give him your full attention. He raised an eyebrow, and you could've swore he rolled his eyes. "You, as in the girl who steals money to donate it to fucking charities, does not belong here. You aren't fit to serve my Father when what he craves is chaos. He doesn't need charity work sweetheart, He needs bloodshed and innocence sacrificed to him. Acts of horror your little mind could never conjure up. I've sat in grief for days in the forest, just for him to guide me home and.." he paused and you took that moment to breathe. Catching glimpse of the blood splattered under his sleeves and over his black clothing that was days old at least. "people like you, who are unable to proudly shed blood upon His name aren't worthy of redemption."

You were stunned to say the least. He was steaming and whatever else had him upset before he even brought himself here was fueling him on. How dare he, a strange man you'd never met before, accuse you of not fulfilling your Satanic promise. Of course he was right, you had never shed blood or sold your soul. Far too terrified to get caught by the law and far too scared to bare your neck to the beast. The thought of it sending you spiraling into shame and how dare a stranger have the audacity. How dare he. "What makes you think I haven't fulfilled my promise? Do you always intend to insult strangers, or is that today's theme?" you barked back, trying to feign control.

He really did sigh and roll his eyes this time, entirely fed up it seemed. Running a dirty hand through his golden locks he snarled, "The one bad thing you've ever done is steal the money from that racist youtuber, but then you donated all three hundred million of it to the animal rescue center. You have yet to sacrifice your soul to my Father and then question me on my anger? You can't claim to serve him when you haven't given yourself to him fully. I'm fucking starving" He spoke as he snatched the plate off the table and walked out of the building, leaving you frozen and slack jawed. Never before had you been so confused, he referred to the Dark Lord as his Father, which wasn't unusual at all. Except, there was something about the way he referred to the beast. It was unholy, unwelcoming, and unsafe. You had never met such a strange, yet dark aura. His presence still lingered no matter where you ran to, even in bed late at night or in your early morning shower. The darkness was tainted and you could almost smell it.

Exactly a week later you were back at service, hoping the not so familiar face would stay hidden in whatever shadow he originated from. A week had passed and you still had felt the nagging sensation of what felt like paranoia ever since his stern prophesation to you. You had hoped dearly he wouldn't return, you had hoped he wouldn't taint your mind any further. Fear and curiosity embezzling itself into the depths of your mind. Oddly enough, you completely doubted that was the last time you'd ever see him. In fact you had an aching feeling inside that he was near. It was an overbearing feeling in your chest that had the hairs on the back of your neck astray, and the goosebumps littering your body, rigid. With a shaky body you made your way to your usual pew, noticing a pretty unusual commotion at the front alter. Oh no.

There he was, in all his unholy glory. Wearing a black robe, and clearly he had showered this time around. You were standing now, almost unconsciously making your way to the front, to him. You were prying, way too curious to care about the unforeseen consequences that you being nosy may bring. Then you heard it, "He's the one.." and you froze in place. Time had unbeknowingly stopped, to some that statement would be rather normal, rather funny really. He was the Father's son. He was the Antichrist. You didn't need proof, the prophecy was already proven from the aching fear you had felt for him since you first laid eyes upon him. The way he had ridiculed you for not being worthy of his Father's redemption. It all made sense now.

With wide eyes you took quiet steps back to your seat, hoping no one saw, and hoping no one could sense your distress. Looking up you caught sight of him, preparing to make sacrifice of a young man and woman. He raised the dagger, chanting a loud 'Ave Satanas' along with everyone else there. It took a good nanosecond before he sliced both of their throats, sending them to an unknown realm. It was catastrophic really, the upset feeling you had in your stomach as the blood poured out of their bodies. It was even worse when you realized he had been staring at you for who knows how long. His eyes were glazed over, a pale black as they tore into the deepest depths of your soul. You knew exactly what he wanted as his lip curled up in a little smirk that made you wildly uncomfortable. He wanted, craved almost, you to bare your neck to him. Hand him your soul on a silver platter like everyone else in the building had already. Idealistically you would, considering the main idea of the church was to literally serve him but was it really worth it? No. He'd have free reign to your subconscious, you're carnal desires and deepest regrets. Something so livid about that terrified you into denial.

As he smoothly stepped off the alter, you took that as your momentary sign to vacate the situation. Walking home to avoid being subjected to you're unwanted destiny. Maybe you'd decide to submit but was it really worth it if you had to hand it to him? His very aura had darkness and power you didn't want to dabble with. Comically, you'd rather not cause trouble but you knew if the true Son had been found, the world was soon to meet it's doom. Prophecies were always fulfilled, and soon this one would be too. Why fret over anything when everything would be over soon.

Late at night in bed you were woken to harsh thumps on your door, jumping up you grabbed your sheer black robe and tied a knot in it before checking the time. 3:00AM. You sighed before getting a baseball bat and walking to the front door, "Who is it?" you asked gripping the bat in fear of an intruder. But the hairs sticking up on the back of your neck spoke numbers.

There was a dark chuckle before the door creaked open on it's own, forcing you to stumble back. You raised the bat and prepared to swing, then you saw his face. "Oh. It's you." you sighed before dropping the bat and going to sit on the couch. He was dressed in all black, a turtleneck dress shirt accompanied by dress pants and mens boots. "Who else would visit you at the Devil's hour?" He strung, ice in his tone and trouble in his smile. Raising your hands in mock humor you let out a humorless laugh speaking, "I don't even know your name, yet you randomly show up to my house? Kinda predatory if you ask me." He didn't think that was funny. Not at all.

"Well I wasn't asking.. and my name is Michael Langdon. It's a displeasure to finally meet you."

#michael langdon #ahs apocalypse #michael langdon fic

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terriblelifechoices · 5 years

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For @abbyheart25, from the send me a pairing and a number and i’ll write you a drabble thing. As always, brevity is not my strong suit.

116. “If you’re here to arrest me you should know I have no intention of coming quietly.” Graves/Credence

This one kinda feels like it should come with warnings? My sense of what needs warnings and what doesn’t is a bit skewed, but I suspect it’s better to be safe than sorry. So. Warnings for racism, sexual harassment, the food service industry in general, and attempted underage prostitution. (Nothing in the warnings applies to the main pairing except the last one. Which doesn’t actually sounds as helpful as I think it does, but I promise this is very PG-13.)

Credence let the storm go. He collapsed back into his body, landing hard on the rain-slick concrete. He bit his lip when he landed and tasted blood.

Changing back always left him disoriented. It didn’t hurt, exactly, but he couldn’t control it very well and he usually landed badly. One of his knees twinged faintly; Credence couldn’t tell if he’d scraped it or strained it while his mind tried to reconcile having a body again.

For a second, his world was nothing but panic and pain. He had to run -- had to get away. He didn’t know why or from what, but he was on his feet and running before he realized what he was doing.

Credence ducked down a side alley on instinct. The world was a rain slick blur, but some part of his brain recognized where he was. He was down by the docks, not far from one of the squats he’d stayed in after Ma had thrown him out for being a godless freak. Credence scrambled up on a dumpster and grabbed the fire escape, hauling himself up with a grunt of effort. The squat had been cleared out awhile ago, but no one had bothered to check the little alcove on the roof. He could hide there for awhile. It wasn’t like the cops were going to go door-to-door. Not in this neighborhood. And even if they did, they wouldn’t check the roof. Why would they? No one in their right mind would be up there. Not with the storm rolling in. Everyone who had someplace else to go would be indoors.

The little alcove had probably been a pigeon coop at some point. It was a rickety structure whose only saving grace was that it had a roof. That was enough for Credence. He ducked inside, closing the chicken wire door behind him.

Credence sat down on the floor. Someone had cleaned out the bird shit since the last time he’d sheltered here. There was a nest of filthy blankets in one corner. They smelled like mildew and stale urine, but there was no other sign of human habitation. No one had been here in awhile.

He wrapped his arms around his knees and tried to force his thoughts into some semblance of order.

He’d been twelve the first time he’d changed, He hadn’t realized that was what had happened until much later. All he’d known was that he’d somehow managed to reduce his bed to splinters. Ma had beaten him so badly for it he couldn’t move for two whole days, and he’d slept on a thin mattress on the floor until the day she’d turned him out for good. She said that he’d done it because he was willful and sinful and all manner of other hateful things that she needed to beat out of him. Credence had tried to tell her that he hadn’t.

Except, of course, he had. Just not in the way that Ma thought. He hadn’t done it maliciously, or to be disrespectful. He hadn’t been able to control the change or the storm. Not then.

Credence had read enough comic books to know that whatever was happening usually kicked in around puberty. He just didn’t know what it was.

He didn’t know what he was.

Part of him desperately wanted to believe that he was different. Special. Magic or metahuman or a mutant or something else out of the stories. That there were other people out there who were like him. That there was a place for him.

This was real life, though. Real life was nothing like the stories. The good guys didn’t always win, the bad guys were rarely punished, and there was no such thing as a happily ever after. Not for people like him.

Whatever he was, he was the only one.

Except, maybe, he wasn’t.

Credence rested his forehead against his knees and remembered.

Nagini hated the stupid outfit Skender made her wear. She called it the video game version of a Chinese cheongsam, from the kind of fighting game that was designed to appeal to perverts.

“You know,” she said, at Credence’s baffled look. “The ones where the women all have breasts the size of cantaloupes and they make porno noises when they get hit.”

Credence had seen pictures of those kinds of video games -- Ma had been religious, but it wasn’t like he lived under a rock -- but he’d never actually played one. He had to admit that Nagini was probably right about her outfit. Any modesty the high Mandarin collar of Nagini’s pervert-inspired cheongsam might have provided was entirely destroyed by the enormous lace panels “covering” her breasts and part of her right flank. The skirt went down to her knees, but there were slits up both sides so high that Credence -- and therefore everyone else -- could see her underwear when she moved. Skender made her wear underwear that matched, but what he’d provided had been little more than string, so one of the other girls at the Circus Arcana had taken pity on Nagini and told her where she could get cheap lacy Victoria’s Secret knockoffs to wear instead.

“This is about as Chinese as I am,” Nagini added, sounding more exhausted by the racism than enraged. She passed Credence a hundred bucks under the guise of topping off a patron’s drink. Her stupid skimpy outfit didn’t have any place to hide her tips, and Skender wasn’t above stealing them. He’d check the girls at the door before he let them leave for the night, mostly as an excuse to put his hands on their breasts under the pretense of checking if they had money hidden in their bras.

Skender didn’t check Credence, though. Why would he check the dishwasher? No one was going to tip Credence. The patrons of the Circus Arcana didn’t even know he existed.

“Sorry,” Credence said.

Nagini shrugged. “Makes the assholes tip better,” she sighed.

It also made them handsy. Credence could see red marks on her thigh. The guy at table six had tried to grab her again; he must’ve scratched her when Nagini jerked away. Table Six always got handsy with the girls, but he paid well and he tipped well, so Skender let him.

Credence hated him. He was vaguely aware that Table Six -- Shaw, his name was Shaw -- was a politician of some sort. He’d seen pictures of the man on the subway. He used to wonder what would happen if someone leaked the fact that Shaw liked to get handsy with the waitstaff at the Circus Arcana, and what he liked to do with the working girls was worse. Nagini had told him not to bother. Shaw’s father owned a newspaper. No one would run that story.

“Nagini…”

“It’s fine, Credence,” Nagini said, twitching her skirt to hide the marks. “It’s nothing.”

It wasn’t. Credence felt the storm beckon. For a second, he was genuinely tempted to let it go. To reduce the Circus Arcana to rubble and rid the world of the entitled, handsy assholes who’d had the world handed to them on a silver platter and still thought it owed them something.

He couldn’t hurt Nagini, though. Or the other girls. Credence pushed the storm down and went back to work.

Shaw got loud enough and drunk enough that Skender had him escorted out. Discreetly, of course. He’d torn the lace panel over Nagini’s breasts before Skender had done it, though, so Skender had sent her home. He’d docked her pay -- “for the cost of a new uniform” -- and laughed when Nagini flushed red with humiliation and rage, but he didn’t know about the hundred dollars Nagini had slipped Credence earlier, so it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. She could still make rent.

“C’mon,” Credence said. He’d filled a water bottle with well vodka at the start of his shift. He took a sip, just to ward off the night chill, and handed the bottle to Nagini. “Let’s go get pancakes.” It wasn’t much, but it was all he could think of to salvage the night.

Nagini laughed. “You’re such a lightweight,” she said.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Credence teased. “If we both weren’t lightweights, Skender would catch me, and then how would we get free booze?”

Nagini tipped the bottle to her lips and drank. “Pancakes are too much work,” she declared, a red flush creeping over her cheeks. She always got red when she drank. “Let’s have waffles.”

“With chocolate chips?”

“Fancy,” Nagini said approvingly. “Do we have chocolate chip Eggos?”

“... No.”

“Shit.”

Credence was pretty sure they had regular Eggo waffles at home. He was just tipsy enough to think the sandwiching a Hershey’s between two waffles might be an okay substitute to chocolate chip waffles, when a car door opened behind them and Table Six lurched out.

“Hey!” he said. “Hey, you bitch, I’m talking to you.”

Credence and Nagini both turned to look at him. Nagini jerked her head. “Let’s just go,” she said.

“Don’t ignore me,” said Shaw. “I paid for you.” He gestured to his crotch. “Time to work for your money, you slanty-eyed bitch.”

“Fuck off!” Nagini yelled. She threw the vodka-filled water bottle at him. It was half-empty already, and it didn’t do much besides splatter Shaw with cheap vodka.

Shaw roared something incoherent and charged at them. Credence put himself in between Nagini and Shaw and got a black eye for his trouble.

“Don’t worry, freak,” Shaw promised. “You can have her back when I’m done. I just want what I paid for.”

The storm beckoned. This time, Credence let it take him.

His storm self raged the way his human self couldn’t. Credence threw Shaw around like a rag doll and stole the breath from his lungs. He heard Nagini scream something -- maybe his name, maybe a warning -- and then white hot pain streaked through him.

Credence was so surprised that he let Shaw go. He didn’t really know how his abilities worked, but he’d figured out that bullets and conventional weapons didn’t work on his storm self. Nothing could hurt him when he was the storm. Credence would have given up being human entirely if he could have, but he’d never managed to stay a storm for longer than an hour.

The storm turned, and whatever it was hit him again.

Credence screamed in rage and pain. The pain made it hard to keep his hold on the storm. He felt himself flicker between his storm self and his human self and forced himself to be the storm once more.

“Stop!” someone roared. The voice was male, commanding and familiar. Detective Graves from the 12th precinct. He walked down the middle of the street like he owned it, his tailored coat flaring out behind him like a cape. He looked like a superhero.

Credence had run away a couple of times when he was younger. Detective Graves used to by the street kids sandwiches. He was alright, for a cop. Didn’t seem to want anything for his kindness -- not information or favors or a couple of sweaty minutes in the back of his patrol car. He’d been horrified when Credence had offered, the one time he’d taken Credence to an actual diner and let him eat his fill. Credence hadn’t understood why he’d been so upset at the time. It wasn’t like he had any other way of paying Detective Graves back. And besides, he was starting to think maybe he liked men more than he liked women, so it wasn’t like Credence wasn’t going to get something out of it. Credence was pretty sure Detective Graves would be nicer about it than anyone else, and he could at least find out if he liked it.

Ma had found him and dragged him back home not long after that. Credence had only seen Detective Graves once after that day in the diner; he doubted the man even remembered him.

The man didn’t stop. He’d made a gesture and lightning leapt from his hands to strike Credence.

Credence screamed when it hit him. He had enough presence of mind to force himself to keep his storm shape as he scanned the area, looking for Nagini. She must’ve run off as soon as Credence changed shapes.

She was probably afraid of him now, but at least she was safe.

Credence fled.

The filthy blankets were better than no blankets at all. It was cold enough that Credence was grateful for them. His clothes were soaked through with rain, and he couldn’t afford to go to a doctor if he got sick. It wasn’t like Skender offered his employees health insurance.

Credence curled up underneath them and tried to sleep.

That man had been like him. He had -- abilities. Credence didn’t know what else to call them. Maybe he was a metahuman.

He wasn’t alone, and the only other person who was like him had tried to kill him.

Real life was a little bit like the comics after all.

Credence fought down a wave of hysterical laughter. Behind it lurked the urge to cry. He wasn’t alone, except he was, and Nagini had seen what he was and she had to be afraid of him now, which meant that he was more alone than he’d been since Ma had thrown him out. He wanted to go home and he wanted to run and he had no idea what to do. He was a little bit afraid that if he started laughing or crying then he wouldn’t stop until he’d gone crazy. Credence had seen enough comic books turned into bad movies to know what sort of person had that kind of origin story. He didn’t want to be a supervillain.

There were footsteps on the roof.

Shit.

Credence bolted upright, trying to breathe as quietly as he could so as not to draw attention.

Stupid, stupid, stupid. He was so stupid. Why had he ever thought that hiding here was a good idea? He was trapped.

Credence reached for the storm. He could change if he had to. It would hurt, so close to his last change, but he could do it.

“You can come out if you want to, Credence,” said Detective Graves. “I’m not going to hurt you.”

Credence couldn’t help the bitter bark of laughter. It just slipped out before he could stop it. He clapped a hand over his mouth, but it was too late. The damage had already been done.

Well, it wasn’t like Detective Graves didn’t know he was here.

Credence stood up and walked out of the pigeon coop. The storm surged beneath his skin. He could fling himself off the roof and change shapes before Detective Graves could stop him. Go somewhere else.

“It would be you,” Credence muttered. The only cop he’d ever kind of trusted. The only one who’d ever been kind.

The only one he didn’t want to hurt.

“If you’re here to arrest me, Detective Graves, you should know that I have no intention of coming quietly.”

“Captain,” said Detective Graves.

“What?”

“It’s Captain Graves, now. The 12th is mine.”

“Oh. Um. Congrats, I guess. On your promotion.”

“Thanks,” said Captain Graves. “Would you believe me if I said I wasn’t here to arrest you?”

“No,” said Credence, and changed.

He didn’t want to hurt Captain Graves, but if it was Captain Graves’ life or his freedom, he knew what he’d pick. He’d killed Shaw, not to mention done a shit ton of damage to various buildings over the years. Captain Graves was a cop. Cops arrested people like him.

The storm surged towards Captain Graves, reaching out with grasping tendrils. They slid away without touching him. It was like trying to take hold of a glass sphere that had been coated in oil. There was nothing to take hold of.

Credence howled in frustration. Captain Graves tilted his head back and looked up at him.

“You’re magnificent,” he breathed.

Credence pulled back, confused. He meant that. Credence could see that he meant it. Captain Graves looked at him the way people in movies looked at each other -- like Credence was something precious and wondrous and worthy of love. He could have just been acting, like the people in the movies, but Credence didn’t think he was.

Captain Graves reached out a hand. “Oh, my boy, you should have been brought to us long before it ever came to this. The fact that you survived is nothing short of a miracle. You are a miracle.”

Credence grasped his hand, letting the tendrils go solid until his human self remained. It was hard to hold on to the storm when he was this confused. The storm needed rage to direct it. Rage and hate.

He stumbled, disoriented, and Captain Graves caught him. He wrapped his arms around Credence, steadying him.

Credence felt safe there. He hadn’t felt safe in years.

Us, he’d said. You should have been brought to us. There were more people out there like the man from earlier. People with abilities. People like Captain Graves.

People like Credence.

“What am I?” he asked. “What are you? Are we … metas?”

Captain Graves snorted. “No. Nothing like that. Although it’s a useful cover for what we are.” He raised one hand to cup Credence’s cheek. “I told you. You’re a miracle.” He loosened his grip on Credence and took a step back. For a second, nothing had changed and the next Credence had the impression of wings, huge and dark, unfurling in the air behind him. They weren’t there and yet they were. The feathers were a shade of brown so dark they were almost black. Credence felt the rumble of tectonic plates shifting beneath the earth, the thin air of mountain peaks and the oppressive weight of dirt as he was buried alive.

Captain Graves snapped his wings shut and they vanished.

“What the hell?” Credence blurted.

“Not hell,” corrected Captain Graves. “Or heaven. Something in between.” He traced a symbol in the air between them.

Credence recognized it. He didn’t know how he recognized it, but he did. He knew what it meant, too. It was almost like he’d grown up knowing it and just forgotten that he did until now.

“Nephilim.”

A/N: This prompt made me wish I could draw. It really did. For some reason it was easier to think of in terms of comic book panels than it was in words, despite the fact that I am nooooot a good artist. At all. IDEK. Brains are weird.

#my fic #ask me anything #abbyheart25 #graves/credence #nagini

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deathdisc · 7 months

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posting tomorrows goretober prompt early since I’m gonna be busy

day#4 viscera

#my art #art on tumblr #original art #oc #comic art #original character #underground comix #splatter platter comic #gore art #goretober #guro #guro art #horror art #horror comic

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dollotron · 6 months

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What’s your favorite kind of gore to draw

guts for sure. I need to practice drawing flesh more, but I love drawing amputation. Tbh I need to draw more gore I get so busy with comic stuff that unless I'm drawing it in splatter platter, I get sidetracked

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unfortunatelysirius · 7 years

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What a Catastrophe [Marauders x Gryffindor! Reader – Marauders Era]

♥PROMPT ♥ [Requested] When a cat is left in the hands of a bunch of troublemakers, what could possibly go wrong? ♥ A/N ♥ Just as a side-note, I’m completely aware that Dumbledore probably has Apparation restrictions in place at Hogwarts at this time, but just for the sake of the story, let’s pretend. Regardless, I hope you enjoy this, darling xx ♥ WARNINGS ♥ Swearing ♥ WORD COUNT ♥ 1422

15. “I’m never trusting you with my cat again.”

There was never necessarily a point in time where you wanted to trust the Marauders, but desperate times called for desperate measures, you supposed.

You looked at the four Marauders sternly, gripping your beloved fur-baby close to your chest. Though you really wanted to stay and cuddle her in the common-room, you had a meeting with Professor McGonagall to discuss potential careers and you were rather torn between leaving your cat to fend for herself against a bunch of marauding bigots or to sneak her into McGonagall's office. Sirius had a sincere expression while James blinked innocently, Remus bearing a gentle smile and Peter looking like he wanted to wet himself in the presence of an animal.

“You better feed her,” you said.

Sirius grinned heartily, barking out a laugh. “We will, Y/N.”

“You’ll need to let her sleep when she curls up on the couch, so don’t bother her she’s tired.”

“Yes, love.”

“If she looks sad, give her love and attention.”

“Why couldn’t it be a puppy?” James whispered to Remus and looked like a deer—or a stag, more-like—caught between the glare of a pair of headlights when you glanced over at him. “I love dogs.”

You sighed exasperatedly. “Just… just take care of her, please.”

Sirius saluted. “Yes, sir!”

Slowly, you relinquished your hold on Esmeralda onto the ground. You fluffed up the hair of her head and smiled brilliantly when she purred against your palm. “I’ll see you soon, love,” you whispered to her. With one last glare towards the Marauders, you made a hasty exit. You were already ten minutes late to the meeting.

Esmeralda curled her way around Sirius’s leg, meowing softly at his lack of attention. With a roll of his eyes and a stretch of his arms, Sirius leaned back against the arm of a nearby chair. He raised his eyebrows at his mates. “How ‘bout a trip to the kitchens, yeah?”

Remus frowned, a conflicted look appearing on his face. “But… what about Esmeralda?”

Sirius shrugged. “She can just come with us, I guess.” Esmeralda gave a light push into his left pants leg—whether in agreement or protest, the Marauders couldn’t tell. She was a cat—two-years old, according to your strange track-keeping—and she had a decent splattering of color. Her fur coat was full of browns, blacks, and whites—a rather nice coating, but only moderately.

James grappled her up into his arms. He flinched and crowed lowly when Esmeralda’s claws sank deep into his robe sleeves and right into the skin of his forearm. “Let’s hurry, please.” He yelped when she started hissing, left paw raising and swiping up at his chin. “Bloody hell, cat! How in the sodding name of Merlin am I going to get my Lily-flower now?”

“C’mon, ya pansy,” Sirius said. He pushed himself up from the armchair and sauntered over towards the common-room entrance. His smirk was arrogant and mischievous. “Food awaits.”

The bloody cat scratched and scratched and scratched at James’s face, repeatedly opening up wounds and smearing previous trails of blood. When they arrived at the pear portrait, James’s face was an absolute bloody mess. He’d finally learned his lesson at personal space and now held the cat out like she was a ticking time-bomb just minutes from detonating.

“I sodding hate cats,” he grumbled. “Why couldn’t Y/N give us an owl? I’d rather deal with a sodding toad than this…”

Sirius glanced at James as he tickled the pear. A smirk illuminated his handsome features. “You deal with a toad every time you look in the mirror, dear Prongs,” he said cheerfully, eyes gleaming with excitement as the portrait swung open to reveal the kitchen.

James almost immediately dropped Esmeralda to the ground, face looking drained of the ability to care as he watched her run towards the tables. Remus widened his eyes to a comical height. “Is that… wise, James?” he asked hesitantly.

James didn’t really care as long as the devil-spawn didn’t come any closer to him or his precious dimples. “Of course it’s wise,” he insisted arrogantly. “It’s just a bloody cat.”

Then, they heard a sudden racket coming from over by a long-table. The four Marauders glanced over to see two house-elves fleeing in their direction, shrieking with fear as Esmeralda chased after them. With a sickening crack, the tiny critters Apparated, leaving Esmeralda to hiss and slice at sheer air. James and Remus eyed it with caution while Sirius just grinned at its ferocious little temper.

Peter began to sneeze, over and over again until James reached over to slap him upside the head. “Merlin, Wormtail; is the dust really that bad in here?” he asked, a reproachful look on his face. Peter frantically shook his head, attempting to cover his nose to avoid any more obnoxiously-loud “ACCCC-HOOs!”

“No—I’m a-allergic to cat fur,” he stammered out, voice rather nasally and full of unwarranted lisps.

James threw his hands up. “That’s just great!” he shouted, too caught up in his own woes to even apologize when several of the house-elves on the far-end jumped at the volume. “Stupid bloody cats, always having to ruin everything—”

“You might want to stop while you’re ahead, Prongs,” Remus said. “If Y/N hears you saying that, she’ll never talk to you ever again.” James just rolled his eyes, not bothered in the slightest.

“Is she Lily Evans, Moony?” he asked rhetorically. “Then let her yell.”

Sirius, ever the knight in shining armor, was chasing around Esmeralda, spewing out a string of curses whenever he’d accidentally bump into a wall, table, or chair. “Come here, you bloody cat!”

One of the house-elves hesitantly approached the lot, bearing a plate of freshly-baked cookies. “Would Masters James and Remus like a plate of cookies?” he said sweetly, holding it up for the two to see. Peter himself was a few feet away, mouth salivating hungrily at the sight. However, before the unoccupied Marauders could kindly thank the critter for the hospitality, Esmeralda was weaving her way through the poor elf’s legs, and Sirius came tumbling underneath. The cookies were sent everywhere, and the elf shrieked in fear, Apparating without a second thought.

Chocolate chips and cookie crumbs were scattered all over the floor, and an elf that was just now bringing a platter with hot chocolate was forced to also drop her bearings. Esmeralda seemed to be weary of anything and everything, and blood smeared its way on the floor after a certain swipe made the elf’s little leg start bleeding.

“Oh, shite,” Sirius muttered, still in the same position and with chocolate covering his chin. “That didn’t go according to the plan.”

Remus looked uncertain and disappointed. “When do you ever have a plan?” he asked. Sirius just shrugged, looking to be without an answer.

James cleared his throat, an arrogant gleam appearing in his eyes. “I’ve got this,” he said. With a crack of his knuckles, he approached Esmeralda. Unfortunately for him, the cat believed him to fancy a game of cat-and-mouse. Esmeralda eyeballed him snidely then sprinted off. Her tiny legs were rather agile and fast for something so… well, inhuman.

In a mere five minutes, the place was covered in food, lacking in house-elves, and looking like a tornado had torn apart the furniture. James was in the middle, smacking at Esmeralda. The cat just didn’t want to leave him the bloody hell alone.

Remus and Sirius were silently freaking the fuck out, debating what to do in the situation, when suddenly you walked through the door, a frenzied expression on her face. You stopped in your tracks, eyes wide and mouth agape at the sight before you. “What… the… hell?”

In synchronized panic, Remus, James, and Sirius pointed at Peter. The poor boy sputtered, his protests stifled by the sudden sneezes. You rolled your eyes, finding it difficult to be annoyed when the poor boys looked like they were about to wet themselves in fear of your rage.

Esmeralda scurried her way to you, purring and meowing, rubbing herself up against your leg. You smiled softly, lifting her up into your arms. You cooed softly, scratching behind her left ear. Then, suddenly remembering the problem at hand, you turned your cutting blade—also known as your eyes—back to the four Marauders. You glowered at them. “I’m never trusting you guys with my cat again,” she said.

James gasped out a breath of relief. “Thank Merlin.”

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