#would you still love me if i was covered in blood for you?
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Viking!simon
Harsh times come again, and it’s kind of a war, so they are already expecting invasions or fights near the clan, so Simon teaches the wife how to defend herself, but only if she needs it (he makes it really clear that she just have to use it if it’s really really needed)
One night the clan is invaded, and just like the last time he hides her (but better this time) and tells “stay.” and that is what she does, she keeps herself quiet and still until she hears children screaming. Their “neighbor’s” children. She grabs the dagger that Simon used to teach her and goes help the kids
I don’t know, the man probably didn’t hear her coming or she pretended to not know how to fight, actually for me it doesn’t matter, but picture it with me: Simon trying to find her after the fight and getting desperate that he can’t find his wife, he goes to the safe house where they are attending the ones who got hurt, he is looking out for her, and that is when he finds her, her back to him, but he can see his neighbor children (the baby on her hip and the little girl being hugged in a protective way), he runs toward them just to find the wife covered in blood, but the look in her [rage] eyes tell him everything, and she says “the blood is not mine”
And he falls in love with her
how does it feel to be a fucking genius? hmm? tell me.
c/w: mentions of blood, mentions of pregnancy and children
he doesn’t even question why his heart starts racing when he doesn’t find you in your shared home. nor does he question the way relief floods his bones when he sees you, safe and sound with the neighbours kids clinging to you
it feels completely natural to feel this way to him. of course he would be worried. you’re his. he immediately drops to one knee in front of you so he can be face to face, checking over your face for any signs of distress or pain
the same way that it feels natural for him to raise his jagged scarred hands up to cup your warm cheeks and rest his forehead against yours. eyes closed as he thanks the gods that you’re safe
“this is not my blood, simon. i’m fine.” you whisper, your hands coming up to lay over his. the moment shared between you two is tender, new even…
“I was worried about you…” he mumbles, pressing his lips to your forehead. you stay like this for a few more fleeting seconds before pulling away, switching back to your usual selves
you and simon wait with the children until they are found by their next of kin. simon can see the reluctance to give them back, he sees that longing look in your eyes. and you looked like such a natural holding that baby on your hip
perhaps it was time for simon to start expanding his bloodline, he thinks. get you to pop out a few kids for him to train into the best and strongest warriors. give his lovely wife a few chubby babies to fuss over and take care of when he’s busy with his duties as a warrior :(
#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost simon riley#simon riley#simon riley smut#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley#simon ghost x reader#ghost x reader#viking!simon#mw2#cod mw2
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🐺 moon-moon4w00 Follow
Friendly reminder that asking your lycan partner to turn you is incredibly insensitive! Seriously can we retire this trope already? Not only is it just offensive, but no one would ever actually choose this life! Lycanthropy is a curse. Full stop.
🐾 superhowllock69 Follow
Ok user "moon-moon" as if that original meme wasn't created to mock pack nomenclature 🙄
Anyway I'm not gonna touch that internalized lycanphobia with a ten foot pole. Being turned by your partner is something that can be incredibly intimate as long as both parties are consenting and the one being turned is 100% sure they want it. Literally the only downside to transforming once a month is the pain, but midol works just fine. No one with these "lycanthropy bad" takes ever wants to discuss the legitimate positives that come with this "curse" lmao.
🐺 moon-moon4w00 Follow
I'm literally reclaiming moon moon but go off I guess. Anyways turning your partner is absolutely disgusting and morally reprehensible and anyone who does it should be muzzled permanently.
🌜 impawssible Follow
lmao my wife literally saved my life when she turned me but i guess she should be muzzled huh? we run through the woods hunting deer together and can each haul in groceries in one trip now, but nooo she's obviously a danger to society because she cares enough about me to help me when insurance wouldn't cover my medicine
also it was confirmed that the creator of that meme literally makes and sells silver bullets so if you still wanna use moon moon for yourself that certainly is a choice. source: (X)
🦴 pupperoni Follow
I love that instead of naming the more common benefits of lycanthropy, you mentioned that you and your wife can carry all the groceries in one trip. I think that's definitely a positive that gets overlooked far too often and I commend you for speaking your truth, sir
🌜 impawssible Follow
lol thanks but I'm a woman 😅
🦴 pupperoni Follow
🦇 count-fuckula Follow
Plus werewolf blood tastes way better and is as filling as 10 humans 👍
🐺 moon-moon4w00 Follow
Oh my GOD you vampblr freaks will just flock to anything. It clearly says "vamps DNI" in my bio!
🐾 superhowllock Follow
lmaoooo of course you're a vampire exclusionist
🌕 daddy-fenris Follow
wasn't OP the same guy who said fursuits were offensive to lycanthropes and doxxed a werewolf fursuiter?
🐺 moon-moon4w00 Follow
They ARE offensive and harmful to this community and I'm tired of pretending they're not. They perpetuate harmful depictions of what a humanoid wolf is actually like.
🌜 impawssible Follow
me when I dox someone for making candy colored animal costumes that look nothing like what a real werewolf does
🦴 pupperoni Follow
K
🌕 daddy-fenris Follow
U
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For I Have Sinned ୨୧ Chapter II
“Place me like a seal over your heart, like a seal on your arm; for love is as strong as death, its jealousy unyielding as the grave.” Songs of Solomon 8:6-7.
As newly appointed Duchess-To-Be, you have much to learn. Etiquette, conduct and eventual motherhood are the pillars you are expected to live by. Because who cares about your choosing?
The Chapel, tended to by a mercurial Priest, is the perfect refuge.
…right?
Pairing: Geto x female reader
A/N: The is dedicated to the artist ( @captainsalsaa ) I mean look at our fallen Angel. His tears. His frustration. Dear GOD.
To the artist: I stared at your piece, then heard a specific song on my writing playlist then wrote the entire last scene in one sitting. To date, it’s my favorite scene in my author’s portfolio. I hope I did our fallen Angel justice. Thank you for creating this 🤍
Previous | Next
CHAPTER II: Hello, Father.
“Awake early, little dove.”
Warm hands caress your shoulders. A welcome contrast to the chilly nautical dawn. The sun still has a ways to go, but songbirds have begun their wake up call.
“As are you, Arella.”
Your eyes float to your favorite maiden standing above you. No more than a handful of years older, but with a heart for you as if she raised you from birth.
“It’s my duty to tend to you, is it not?”
Soft laughter harmonizes with the nightingales. A quick kiss on your forehead before her warmth disappears off the balcony — undoubtedly to go retrieve a treat of some kind.
She’s not wrong.
Technically it is her duty.
But Arella is your blessing.
Matting and kneading your surroundings to fit your needs. Eager to dampen the growing pains of settling in a new home.
Constant hellos.
Permanent smiles.
Not too wide, like a promiscuous woman. But not too tight, like a cold prude.
Rooms to tour. Hands to shake. Garments to pin and tie and lace around your lungs as if your God-given ribcage was a frivolous extra not needed for life. Not needed to breathe.
Breathe.
Your lids screw shut. Pulling in as much of the balmy, saltwater breeze gliding up the steep rock face along the overhang.
Much like he did.
The Chaplain.
His hair cascading down his back in the same way poets monologue when inspired. His eyes a mural of what the Gods paint when they want to show off.
The way earth acquiesces to his touch as if he is the Creator. The birds choose to perform for him every morning. And the ocean exists to bathe him.
You cannot decide if the sorbet sunsets are created by the Chaplain. Or if the Gods fight over who gets the honor of painting him a new one each evening.
“Sleep still escapes you, precious girl.”
It does, but not for the reason she thinks.
“You worry too much, Arella. I’ll adjust soon.” The tea she brought you is delicious.
The both of you cross back into your quarters. The stagnant, perfumed air suddenly suffocating.
“I would like to go to the chapel garden.”
A quiet declaration that stills your handmaiden in her tracks. Then a small grin blossoms on her beautiful face. Fussing with your bedding. Wiping away evidence of your sleepless night.
“For the flowers that bloom, little dove? Or for the God that tends to them?”
The blood in your veins runs subzero.
“Arella! I am engaged to be marri—“
“Of course you are. But eyesight isn’t a sin.”
Another moment of feigned irritation before you burst into a fit of childish giggles. The both of you no better than school girls, covering your mouths, stifling your laughter.
“I just wanted to see you smile.” Arella gestures to your extravagant dresser across the room.
“In the second drawer you can find a casual garment. Come back with at least one hour to prepare for Mass.”
· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── ·
A hummingbird chaperones your walk to the church estate. Dulcet hums drown out the rattling heartbeat between your ears.
This is harmless.
It is not a sin to take in Earth’s natural candy. To appreciate God’s gift to humanity.
In all of his majestic glory.
Your eyes dart around as if your thoughts are a tangible scroll. Written in ink for the world to see.
Don’t be ridiculous, there’s no one around.
Just you. Your fluttering companions (both heart and bird). The waking sun. God above and his plants swaying in the gentle gusts of wind. You’re safe in your mind.
Until he decimates all logical and reasonable train of thought, that is.
You should be angry. Infuriated. That no one adequately prepared you for seeing the demigod for the first time. Even now, you question whether he’s flesh and blood.
Maybe an illusion?
The Lord playing tricks from his throne?
The mirage before you halts your paces. You can’t help but question your level consciousness.
Because this must be a dream.
“Oh, don’t be cruel.”
Words slip out of your mouth, currently ajar. It’s not your place to chastise the One above, but come on.
Your eyes taste the Chaplain for a second time and this course is even more decadent than the first.
There he stands.
A raven waterfall down his broad, muscular back. Half of it tied away from his face. Olive skin so rich the surrounding plants pale in comparison. Russet brown working pants hang loose around his tapered waist, but snug around his thighs. Various tools hooked in the belt loops. Heavy mahogany work boots match the worn leather gardening gloves fitted to his hands.
His hands.
Reaching for thorny vines plaguing his hydrangeas. Even at your distance you could detail each muscle fiber in his arm tense and release with every pull and toss.
Pull and toss.
Pull and toss.
You would have gotten lost in his rhythmic trance, if it weren’t for the symbol branded in charcoal sprawling his back. The emblem peeks through his thick hair, every now and again.
A spear?
No.
A trident. With waves snaking up its stalk along his spine.
His gravitational pull is overwhelming. Your feet move with more stealth than the King’s Guard.
“Working on the Day of Rest, Father?” Casual, measured.
“Duchess,” Saliva pools in your mouth. His smile teases your ears before he graces you with it.
“I have to start being more careful about my clothing.” A playful glint in his eyes.
“Especially now that I’ve been blessed with a fellow greenskeeper.”
He is a man of God.
And would never insinuate anything impure.
But that doesn’t stop your cunt from clenching around his words steeped in a baritone potent enough to rumble the ground beneath you.
“I’m sorry. I should’ve sent word that I was coming.”
“This palace belongs to you, Duchess. You are welcome here at any hour.” His hand captures a vine and tosses it into the pile without his eyes ever leaving yours.
You are weak.
And greedy.
The way your gaze drops to his arm. Desperately etching its contours into memory. Seconds, maybe minutes pass before you realize you were gawking. And the Chaplain just let you.
Head cocked to the side. Soft smile ghosting his full lips.
“Would you like to finish the tour of your new playground?”
“Y-yes. Of course, please.” Stumbling over the uneven cobblestone in your voice, you turn away to begin the coordinated stroll. The Priest slides his arms into a linen button up. Lazily fastening two center buttons only.
He informs you of the work that has already been done, what’s left. Where the soil is richest, where it is the most acidic. How the sun hits certain flowers at each hour of the day.
Brilliant.
With complete command over God’s bouquet. The sun following him wherever he steps.
“Did you enjoy your swim today, Father?” Both you and the Priest come to a slow stop. One of his angular eyebrows raised.
“I’m dry, Duchess.” He responds with a low, hypnotic chuckle.
Heat floods your cheeks. How could you be so presumptuous?
“What gave me away?”
Your knees nearly betray you. The razor sharp grin on his face could cut glass.
“You were born for the ocean. Or rather, the ocean was born for you.”
Your statement is greeted with blaring silence.
Lava in his gaze. Singeing every part of your face it touches. His expression is like a foreign language.
“I—I’ve overstepped, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to offend. Clearly I have much to learn about social graces.” A meek apology bubbles out of your lips. Desperate to fill the space between your bodies.
The mercurial man shakes his head slightly. Thawed out from your statement, he reaches over and plucks a stray lilac petal resting on your crown.
“My father used to say the same.” He muses, looking away for the first time.
“Your father! Is he—“
“He was called home some time ago.” This smile is soft. Reminiscent. Polite, but his mind clearly elsewhere.
“Oh Father Geto, I’m so sorry.”
A foot in your mouth is not enough punishment for your indecency. Why would you go prodding like this?
“Don’t be, I’ll see him again. Soon enough.”
“Not too soon, I hope.” The statement draws a stunned gaze from the Chaplain. Eyes dancing between yours.
“Time to prepare for mass, little dove!” Arella’s melodic call tethers you back down from outer space.
You flicker over to her with a ruby dusting over your nose and cheeks. Like a child caught with her hand in a cookie jar before supper.
“Happy Sunday, Father!” Arella calls out, cheshire grin on her face deepening your crude blush.
“Indeed, Arella.” He returns the greeting while keeping his eyes on you.
“Send my regards to the Duke.” His voice lowers, for your ears only. With a nearly imperceptible edge to his tone.
“Happy Sunday, Duchess. We have a counseling session scheduled late afternoon, yes?”
A statement of pure black and white fact. And yet it travels down your spine and settles between your legs. Wet heat dampening your thin negligee.
“Yes, Father. Happy Sunday.”
· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── ·
Mass was miserable.
Your corset laced tight enough to meld your two lungs and beating heart into one entity. To say the neckline strangled you is putting it mildly. Cold, uninviting pews dug into your skin at every turn.
Wretched.
But the worst of it wasn’t the thin, oxygen-deficient air. Or the shards of glass that slid down your throat with every swallow. Even the jaw pain from tensing your lips in a well-mannered smile for two hours straight was tolerable.
The worst part of it was him.
The Priest mesmerized an entire congregation to an ear-splitting hush.
His first Sunday mass since appointment and nearly everyone in the country and every surrounding province stuffed into the chapel.
So desperate for blessings from Father Geto.
Could you blame them?
His voice danced in and out of the pews listlessly.
Soothing fussy children. Adolescent girls and their mother’s alike — utterly smitten. Adolescent boys experienced their first “I want to be like him” with their fathers sitting right next to them. Husbands glanced feverishly at the women in their lives.
He had to have noticed it. And yet, he floated above it all the entire service.
Above you.
Refusing to gift you those eyes that put Vincent Van Gogh to shame. No matter how much you shifted in your seat and straightened your spine.
The Priest spoke to everyone in the room but you.
Did you read him wrong?
Did you misinterpret your budding friendship?
Does it…should it even matter?
Your irritation is palpable. Innocent bystanders are caught in your friendly fire. Including Arella, who changed you out of that horrid costume. And sweet Noel, who ushered you into the seating area — just outside of the good Father’s office.
You make a mental note to send treats to the tender-hearted alter boy. And to apologize profusely to your handmaiden.
“You are a million miles away, darling.” The sound of your betrothed tows you out of the storm clouds.
You flicker over to the Duke. Emerald green eyes, high cheek bones — handsome in a way that is characteristic of everyone native to your new home.
“I’m right here, Ezra.”
“Are you, sweetheart?” The back of his hand caresses your cheek.
“Mmhm.” You offer your future husband a weak smile and kiss on his cheek. His eyes faltering slightly, undoubtedly hopeful for lips instead.
“Good afternoon, Duke and Duchess Ahriman.”
Father Geto’s velvet greeting encases you both. If Ezra’s arm didn’t guide you to stand you would have been paralyzed in your seat.
“Father Geto, a pleasure. Thank you for seeing us.” Ezra offers a genuine smile and handshake. Buying you a few extra seconds in your mind’s safe haven.
The Chaplain is tight lipped. Professional. He returns the handshake firmly.
“Pleasure is mine.”
Ezra shifts slightly on his feet. Straightening his spine and dropping his shoulders. Your eyes bounce between the Chaplain and your fiancé.
“I must say, Father. You are even more handsome up close. I speak for the men in this country, thank you for taking the vow of celibacy!” The words spill out of the Duke. Unknowingly thinning the air.
The Priest chuckles quietly, dropping his eyes briefly before landing them on you. And it feels like you could double over. Your core temperature skyrockets under his smoldering gaze.
He, the archer. You, the bullseye.
“Let’s get started, shall we?”
Ezra laces his fingers in yours, taking the two seats directly in front of the oak desk. A leather bound notebook and pheasant feather pen are neatly arranged — with your names on the first page.
Blue flame rises from your toes to hairline. You might as well have been sitting naked. With how exposed, how vulnerable you feel already.
“What will we be covering first, Father? Something about how wives should obey their husbands, right?” Ezra is light-hearted. Meant to be said in jest.
But he finds himself being the only party in the room laughing.
The Priest rolls the ink pen between his fingers. Allowing a deafening silence to coat the walls. His expression is neutral, but eyes ablaze.
“If the man in question is worthy of submission.” He starts. A low, ominous rumble.
“Uh, yes. Of course.” Ezra responds, shifting in his seat.
But the Chaplain does not stop. Intent on making a point, he leans in. Pen whirling lightning fast between his long, deft fingers. Enough tailwind to launch across the room, if he desired.
“If the man in question would give his life for his wife.” Volcanic eyes linger on you, then back to your fiancé. Ezra’s palm finds your thigh. You gnaw on your inner cheek to avoid flinching away.
“If he would love her like Christ loves all of his creations unconditionally. Unselfishly. Irrationally.”
“Yes, Father. I understand.”
“Only then, should she submit.” His serrated tone could split chromium with ease.
“Of course, of course.” Ezra wisely accepts defeat.
He presses a short kiss on your cheek as an apology that you didn’t ask for, nor do you want.
“Mmm.” A forced acknowledgment of the Duke’s affection through your pinched lips. Barely able to move under the Father’s microscopic gaze.
“Now then,” Father Geto clears the boulders in his throat.
“Tell me about your love.”
The question stuns both you and the Duke. Looking to each other sheepishly because neither of you chose this.
War is young men dying and old men talking. And your life path is no different. Dictated by conversations between the powers that be.
“We’ve only met a week ago, Father.” Your honesty drives both of his eyebrows upward.
“A week ago?”
“But we are hoping you can teach us.” The Duke, overeager and excitable.
“Teach you…?” Father Geto muses. You can’t quite interpret his tone, or minimal response. But your heart flutters all the same.
He is thinking something. And what you would give to get a glance. To be let in.
“Perhaps guide us?” Ezra gives an unintentionally painful squeeze on your thigh. You fail to muffle the tiny whimper.
The Priest’s eyes laser down to where your fiancé’s hand lays. Chest rising and falling dangerously slow.
“Right.”
Your eyes trail upwards as he stands. Closer to God than to you from this point of view.
“Duke, Duchess. You’ll have to accept my sincerest apologies.”
His fingers dip the unused pen back into the ink cup. The edges of his leather bound notebook coming together. Seemingly without any notes, but an entire script from this session swirling in his mind.
“My schedule is incorrect. I have another commitment. We will reschedule, yes?” Said with a finality that sends chills crawling down your spine.
The two of you stand. Another handshake between the men. A restrained nod for you.
Just as quickly as you were let in, Father Geto shuts you out of his office and his mind.
· ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── ·
Suguru presses his forehead against the shower tile. Warm water raining down his loose mane. Soothing his sore, overworked limbs.
Today was maddening.
He nearly destroyed his vestment the minute that God-forsaken counseling session ended. Seeking refuge, he took to the coast.
And the sea provided anything but peace.
She was angry with him, tonight.
Curt. With unpredictable currents. Rip tides at nearly every turn. She tested his adaptation without mercy.
Just like that night.
“I’m going to stay on board, brother!”
Suguru flickered over to the silver-haired deckhand. An unfamiliar reservation opacifying his nearly translucent, iridescent eyes.
Brother in name, technically.
Their bloodlines were oil and water. He was a high born. Suguru was born unworthy of a beggar’s pity.
But, bloodlines were inconsequential when their souls were instep as one. Both handed to humanity on the same night. During a thunderstorm already inscribed in history books.
‘The Tide of Eternal Requiem.’
It brought complete devastation. Crops destroyed. Families torn apart by tragic accidents inland and at sea.
Then fate struck.
Within the same hour, a voltaic boy, with a halo that put the clouds to shame and diamond eyes that could draw truth from murderers was born into the loving embrace of his parents.
And Suguru was born with a crown so dark that the raging midnight appeared bright.
With eyes as ominous as the sky above.
Gunmetal grey, accented by an eerie violet swarm. Dormant volcanoes, threatening eruption. His birth mother abandoned him in an alley. Driven by fear that he was a bad omen from the Gods.
“Ahhh, Satoru come on. Since when do you shy away from a few waves?”
Suguru teased. Already well into the process of shedding his work gear.
“Zeus is the one rumored to be my father.” His counterpart flashed a knowing smile.
“Poseidon doesn’t watch over me like he does you, Suguru.”
A tsunami couldn’t keep Suguru from his home. Much less a little rain.
They were 3 miles away from the shoreline. Using his God-given ability, Suguru regularly acted as their scout. Performing his own reconnaissance then alerting the incoming ship of safe or turbulent terrain.
“Almost ready to go, son?”
His chosen father came up behind him. Suguru knew there were tears lining his meek eyes before turning to face him.
“Dad.” Suguru sighed, fully disrobed now. Just his muscular frame and a compression suit.
He met his father’s concerned gaze. Always like this during sea storms. Quiet prayers written all over his gentle features.
Despite the worry, he never once attempted to convince his oceanic boy to stay on board. It would have been too cruel.
“I’ll be fine, I’ve traversed angrier swells.”
“Suguru, take care of yourself when I’m gone.”
Elder, worn hands landed on his shoulders. Nearly too high for his reach. Suguru cocked his head to the side.
This goodbye was different.
“Stay on this path. For me. Albeit straight and narrow, there is a wonderful view. This is all for you, son.”
Both men glanced to the Persian gulf. She thrashed against their vessel. Swaying their catch left and right with the intention of taking her creatures back.
“Where is this coming from?” A genuine question from his younger self. Unable to read between the lines.
“Can’t a man just speak from the heart?”
The melancholy smile didn’t meet the wrinkles of time decorating his eyes, but they shared a laugh anyway. Suguru turned away but was promptly drawn back.
“My beautiful boy.”
The fisherman cradled his son’s face. Swimming in the eyes that Suguru once hated. The eyes that convinced his birth mother to abandon him.
“Make it to shore, son.” Suguru rested his head against his father’s neck. Taking a slow, sweet drag of his scent.
Oak.
He always smelled like oak. It was one of Suguru’s favorite things about him.
“If Poseidon calls—“
“I’ll tell him to fuck off.” Mischievous grin plastered on Suguru’s face. His father planted a kiss on his cheek, pushing him towards the end of the boat. As he always did.
Then the Gulf wrapped him in her hostile embrace.
She was irate.
Vicious tidal waves. Rapidly shifting currents. Even her creatures knew to settle below their usual depth. Suguru cursed the fact that he was born with useless, human lungs. Unable to withstand the pressure of the Midnight Zone.
Within minutes his long, lean frame was riding her whims without a shred of control. Tossed around like a rag doll. At her complete mercy — or lack thereof.
This was the first time he struggled to tame his element. A muffled groan bubbled around him. Serrated edges of long coral stalks dug into his back. Stark white foam whirled around him.
Aerated waters.
Suguru could barely maneuver against the waves pummeling his core. Searing heat traveling up his spine. His lungs demanded oxygen.
The boat.
The boat would never make it to shore.
Desperate, furious strokes of his arms meant nothing against her unrelenting grasp. Effectively pinning Suguru to his underwater cross.
A piece of chewed plank wood whizzed by his face.
Followed by another.
Then another.
And Suguru watched his nightmare materialize before his eyes. Mustering his last oxygen reserve, he bellowed against his closed lips.
As if she hadn’t already ignored the cries of his fellow fisherman.
Even still, he screamed so loud his ribcage should have vaporized. But ushering him to a watery grave at that time would have been too merciful.
Suguru blinks out of the harrowing memory. The steeping tea takes at least two layers of epithelium off his esophagus.
Fucking, hell.
He can’t seem to escape pain today.
The swim was excruciating.
Mass was dreadful.
Watching that boy’s hand lay on your lap was grating.
Suguru’s mind drifts back to you. Your thought washes over him like baptizing waters purifying that which is impure.
The gleam in your eyes when you asked about his morning plunge. Barely a week and your pulse on him is already this precise.
Do not covet, Suguru.
He scoffs to himself. Shaking free of your tempting spiral.
This ‘straight and narrow’ path is proving to be more challenging than he let on.
“Would you be proud, Father?”
A whisper of accusation at the end of his inquiry. Suguru would give his arms, his eyes…his life to hear his father’s voice on the other end of his questions, once again.
“Did He tell you?”
Roaring silence. Of course. He knows that. He expects it.
But it angers him all the same.
“Did He come to you in a dream??” Suguru echos louder. More frantic. Punched out in a way he can barely recognize.
“Was the reaper at His left, my heart on the right?!” A weak sob slips through the crack in his baritone.
Yet another pain. But this one is tart and blurring his vision.
“Did you KNOW? D—did you know that day was your last?!” He hisses through a salty stream. Storming out to the garden to escape the walls collapsing in on him.
Suguru’s eyes laser to the remaining thorny vines along his bed of hydrangeas. Without a second thought he wraps them around his bare arms. Staining the plant and his freshly bathed skin with crystalline tears. Once its thorns sufficiently bury into his skin he rips it away from the soil with all his might.
“Bastard. I’m your SON.”
Warm metallic drips down the hills and ridges of his arms. Collecting in the flower bed.
Is he cursing his earthly father?
His Heavenly One?
Or the Deity that brought this grief on him in the first place?
It hurts.
An unforgiving pain.
Much like the thorns in those rapids. Much like the inconceivable burn from his lungs begging for expanse. The time limit, even for him, ran lethally low.
Well exceeding his father’s time limit.
Poseidon stole from him that day.
A callous trade for Suguru’s continued existence.
“Why didn’t you…I—I should’ve been there.”
Guilt eviscerates Suguru’s remaining resolve. Tilting his head up, he lets the salty crystals rain down his cheeks freely.
The full moon cradles his face with the same warmth, the same adoration his father’s hands used to.
Suguru accepts its celestial kisses for a moment before burying his face into his bloodied palms. His damp locks curtain his flushed face. Protecting the world from his unruly sobs.
“I’m here.” Barely audible words escape through desperate grabs for air.
“I made it to shore, Dad.”
E/N: Oh hello, don’t mind me just sobbing. Also, guest appearance by our glorious Blue Eyed Babygirl King™️ If you need me, I will be in witness protection before Gege finds this since it’s a crime to be a S*toru lover.
taglist: @blkkizzat @rotteneyess
#jjk fanfic#jjk angst#suguru geto smut#geto smut#geto x reader#jjk geto#jjk x reader#jjk smut#geto suguru x reader#geto suguru#suguru geto#geto#jjk x reader smut#jjk x you#jjk fanfiction#jjk suguru#jjk x y/n#suguru smut#suguru fluff#geto suguru x you#geto suguru smut#jujutsu kaisen suguru#priest geto#poly satosugu#geto angst#geto fluff#jjk fic#suguru geto x reader#suguru geto x you#suguru geto x y/n
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calling toji when you can't sleep bc the trees look like monsters
mysterious shadows danced across the off-white wall that faced the bed. it intrigued you how harmless things could turn sinister in a matter of hours. the trees swayed like monsters outside, and the wind howled like hungry, blood-thirsty wolves through the windows. you sunk deeper into your duvet, your body growing hot with anxiety and fear. it was dumb, the paranormal series you watched before bed.
it was all in your head.
the usual creak of the hardwood floors made your skin crawl. your eyes were darting in every direction as you formulated an escape plan. your chest was tight, and your breathing was quiet but quick, like a duck swimming. you couldn’t bring yourself to turn onto your left side, your eyes glued to the wall parallel to you.
you were officially frozen with fear. the fear of nothing and everything. your phone lay on the bedside table on the left side of the bed, toji’s usual side, although without him here, you were terrified. with a surge of courage, you quickly turned over, facing the empty side of the bed. you shuffled quietly and reached your arm out to grasp your phone. as soon as it was in your grip, you turned the flashlight on. the room looked exactly the same as you had left it before you went to bed 3 hours ago, but it felt different. most likely from the made-up scenario you composed in your mind.
you checked your messages to see if toji had texted, and to your discomfort, he hadn’t. so in classic fashion, you called him and put it on speaker.
“hey doll, what’s up?” his voice was gruff, but it warmed your skin.
“just wanted to check up, see how you’re doing...” your voice was shaky, and you cursed yourself for it.
“isn’t it 3am in tokyo?” he didn’t sound worried, and he had every right to—toji knew nothing was inherently wrong. but you needed comfort.
“uh, yeah, i just needed to hear your voice.”
he sighed, and you could practically hear him run a hand through his hair. “i know it’s hard, but i’ll be home in 2 days.”
toji then scoffed, and you could hear him rolling his eyes. “did you watch one of those stupid, scary shows again?”
you groaned, knowing he made fun of how scared you got. his laughter only heightened, and you covered your eyes with your hand, giggling.
“yes, and stop laughing at me. i’m terrified!” you confessed, your heart practically beating out of your chest as you eyed the bedroom door. “i wish you were here with me, toj.”
“2 days, and i’ll be back in your arms, saving you from the big, scary monsters that live in our apartment,” toji announced, his voice softer than when he first answered. you sighed, hoping the phone call would never end.
“listen, doll, i gotta go, okay? but 2 days.”
you smiled softly at his words.
“okay, i love you,” you mumbled, feeling safer and more content; the picture frames on the chest of drawers on the opposite wall stopped their random movements, and the shadows across the room stilled.
“love you too, and don’t forget to check under the bed,” his hysterical laughter was the last thing you heard before he hung up.
fucking fushiguro.
#perhaps im in my dilf era#toji fushiguro#jujutsu kaisen#jjk#jjk x reader#jjk imagines#toji x reader#toji fushiguro fluff#fushiguro toji#fushiguro toji x reader#toji fushiguro x reader#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen imagine#toji x you#toji fluff#— ann writes!
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Can you write about Viking!Konig who's the leader of his clan. One time he raids a random village and meets fem!reader, who's beautiful with her hazel eyes and round breasts. Then he takes her as his wife!!!!! Ahhhhh I'm crazy about this. I'm sorry for asking too much 😭😭😭 BTW thank you for accepting my previous request ❤❤❤ love ya so muchhhhh
König is 100000% a boobie man and I will die on that hill😮💨 lmao, I LOVE this!!!! Don't ever feel bad for requesting. I'm having a bit of a writers block and this story helped me find my flow again🩷. I hope you're well and taking care of yourself🥰🥰
Viking!König x Reader (fem)
MDNI🔞
Master List
>cw: fem/afab, violence, naughty thoughts
1.0k word count
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You wake up from your slumber hearing the screams from your neighbors in the small village you live in. You rush past your family who is now also scrambling to their feet, your husband rushing to gather himself as your children panic. You open your door slightly to see rooftops on fire and dead bodies lying in the roads.
Quickly, you close the door and turn to your husband with wide eyes, “Callum, it’s Vikings…” Your voice shakes with fear. You’ve heard stories from other villages about their attacks, leaving nothing but death and sorrow in their paths.
“We have to run, grab the children!” Callum whispers loudly as you stand there feeling overwhelmed with emotions. Everyone always assumed this village would be safe, untouchable, but this proved them all wrong.
Rushing to your children, you quickly squat down, “We are going to have to run, as fast as you can, okay?”
The children nod their heads crying, your oldest trying to be brave for you. Just then you all jump as the door is flung open. Screaming, you turn to see three big men and an equally large woman enter your home. An even bigger man, ducks to enter your home. Your eyes go wide seeing him, you’ve heard of the giant Viking man, but you assumed he was more of a myth to instill fear in people.
Using your body to shield your children as you step in front of them, you look to your husband. Callum seems to be frozen in fear, unable to even breathe. There’s a moment where no one moves and it’s quiet other than the sounds of your children crying.
The large man has a mask covering his face, his pale blue eyes are the only part of his face that is visible in the low light in the home. He has an aura about him that could strike fear in any warrior’s heart.
“P-please leave us, we don’t have much.” You speak up, your voice trembling.
The leader turns to two of the other Vikings and speaks to them in a language that you’ve never heard before. They nod and move to my husband, restraining him. He screams and the woman hits him, making you fear for your lives more. You look up wide eyed as the tall man begins to approach you.
König sees the family before him, a man frozen in fear, three children cowering behind their mother, and then their mother… you. A small but brave woman, brave enough to speak up when her husband couldn’t. It makes him impressed, wondering what type of woman could be so bold.
König approaches you with a hungry look in his eyes. His gaze drops down to the way the thin fabric of your nightgown clings to your body. Your breasts are massive and perfectly round, nipples hard and poking through the fabric. König has always loved a woman with large breasts and a little extra. Your breasts looking so perfectly full, his mind begins to wonder if you are still feeding your youngest. Your body is simply perfect for him.
“Name?” König asks in a low voice.
“Leave her alone!” Your husband shouts, trying to protect you. He gets hit by one of the people restraining him.
“I- I’m y/n.” You respond trying to be brave.
The closer he got the more his true size became obvious. The smell of his clothes-stained copper from the blood and his natural musk filled your nostrils. You feel small as he towers over you. His eyes are still wandering your body.
“I’m König.” He says finally.
He feels himself getting lost in your eyes as he takes in the beautiful color. You gaze up at him with the most stunning sage green eyes speckled with golden brown. The most beautiful hazel eyes he has ever seen. Gently he raises a hand to your face and caresses it, leaving a streak of blood behind. Your skin is so soft to his large and rough hand. He can only imagine the rest of you is this soft.
“Is this your husband?” He points to Callum.
“Yes, and these are our children. Please, we are simply farmers. We don’t have much.”
“Hm, I see.” König takes a deep breath and looks down at your breasts again. “Are you still feeding the youngest?”
“Y-yes…” You answer hesitantly wondering what type of question is that.
That is exactly what he wanted to hear. You are not only bold, daring, and beautiful; but also soft, desirable, and can create children for him. This is what he’s been looking for, and he finds you here. Wasting your milk on a weak man’s offspring.
“Perfect, you’ll be coming with me.”
Your jaw drops stunned as you look up at him shaking your head no, “I- I can’t leave my family. My husband-”
“That man? He’s not worthy of you. You deserve more, and I intend on giving it to you. Now please Liebling, don’t fight.”
König steps to you and grabs your arm to pull you away from your children. Your husband begins to yell at König, saying that he can’t do this. He can’t just take you. Your children stand confused, not understanding the whole situation completely while the youngest cries.
“Please, don’t.” You whimper, looking back at your family as he drags you away.
“You’ll be happy with me. You aren’t a farmer's wife, you’re a queen. My queen. Now come.” König scoops you up into his arms bridal style, his fingers digging into the supple flesh of your thighs as he carries you away from your small home.
“Don’t worry, my people will let your family live.” König whispers to you as he walks. His eyes are drifting down your body. He feels the anticipation rising as he begins to walk you back to his clan’s ship on the coast near your village. He wants you in his home, in his bed, undressed where he can enjoy you and gaze into your eyes as he makes you cum. Soon.
#konig#konig x reader#konig x y/n#könig#konig cod#könig x reader#konig smut#könig smut#könig cod#könig mw2#konig x you#konig x reader smut#könig call of duty#könig x y/n#könig x you#viking könig
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I love your writing! Can you please write a 2003!Leo X reader where Leo shows up at their apartment injured so they bandage him up and give him some comfort (by making him lay down and relax while they ride him)👀
Injured (Angst/Fluff) (18+)
2003!Leonardo x reader
A/N: Finally got around to write something!💚 I’ve been so busy, but I hope this was worth the wait💚 Btw, I’ve just started watching the Fallout series, so I had to stop myself from going to gorish.
All characters are aged up.
Warnings: Description of wound, blood, mentioning of sewing a wound, masturbation?, stripping, unprotected sex, cowgirl position, implied orale - female receiving.
“What the hell happened?!”, you asked in a panic as you helped Leo in through your window, your body shaking at the sight of his hand, clutching his bleeding side, covering the palm of his hand in a deep red color.
“Foot ninjas”, your boyfriend muttered through gritted teeth, pain shooting across his face with every move, as you guided him towards the couch. “Wanted to get some night training in, but they surprised me. I was just lucky to be so close by”.
“Does anybody know that you’re out?”, you asked, your mind raising trying to remember everything that the turtles had taught you, in case something like this would happen. Granted, you had never thought it would happen…
“Yes”, Leo answered, his voice straining a bit, trying to cover the pain in his right side, while watching you hurry through your apartment, in order to find everything you needed. He knew very well that you were trying to keep him talking. Talking and awake. “I asked if they wanted to come along, but they said no. Probably a good thing”.
You almost fell down next to the couch, fumbling with the first aid kit in your hands, taking deep breaths in order to calm yourself. Just like Leo had taught you. And finally, you were able to open the first aid kit, feeling some form of calm wash over you, as you got to work on Leo’s wound.
You had never heard Leo make such sounds as the ones he did that night. He groaned in pain when you sewed his injury shut, his hands clutching on the couch pillows, his breathing heavy as he tried to calm himself. The pain a mutant was able to go through was still hard for you to wrap your head around. And for a moment you had to steady yourself, in order not to let your hands shake once again.
Once you had finally bandaged Leo’s wound, you helped him from your couch and into your bedroom, laying him down on your bed, so that he could relax, while you took on the task of cleaning your living room, from the red blood he had brought with him. You disinfected the hard surfaces, and took the fabric off of your couch, contemplating whether or not you should try to bleach it, or just get a whole new set. In the end, you decided to worry about it another day.
“How are you feeling?”, you asked as you reentered your bedroom, seeing Leo still laying on your bed.
“Better”, Leo smiled. “Can already feel it healing”.
“The perks of being a mutant”, you smiled, before taking a seat next to your boyfriend.
“I guess so”, Leo said, his hand instinctively finding yours, before interlocking your fingers.
You sat like this for a moment, smiling at each other, looking into each others’ eyes, before Leo's hands slowly came to your face, his thumb stroking your cheek. You instinctively knew what this gesture meant, and with a small chuckle, you leaned down, before pressing your lips to Leo’s in a soft and sweet kiss. Leo let out a small hum - a sound of joy and relaxation. Sure, his wound may have been taken care of, but that did not change his still somewhat alert stage. So to feel you like this against him, made him calm down. His breathing deeper and his touch heavier against your cheek. You had experienced Leo’s minor changes in actions before, knowing very well what effect you had on him. Therefore it did not surprise you when his small hum turned into a small churr, somewhere deep within his chest, the hand on your face getting a soft yet firm grip on the side of your face. It was almost instinctive. Sudden yet very slow. Leo was holding back, both because of his wound, but also because of you. He would never do anything without making sure that it was okay with you.
With another small chuckle, you leaned your head to the side, allowing you to deepen your kiss, Leo’s hand moving from your face to your hair, tangling his fingers with your locks. You felt Leo’s tongue glide across your lower lip, asking you for entrance, which you gladly accepted. Your tongues danced together in a sloppy dance, small sounds of joy and excitement escaping the two of you.
Leo placed his other hand on the mattress, leaning on it as he tried to sit up, your lips still on each other. But he did not get far before you pushed him back down on the bed, breaking your kiss as you did so. Leo looked up at you in slight confusion, only to be met by a mischievous smile by you.
“You’re injured”, you said, your hands finding the bottom of your shirt before pulling it off. “And it’s my job to take care of you”.
Catching on to what you meant, Leo let out a strangled noise, feeling the need behind his cloaca grow. With lustful eyes he watched as your hands moved to the zipper of your pants, before slowly taking them off. Had he not had a gash in his side, he would have jumped on you by now. Instead he settled for curling one arm up around his head, letting his other slowly run towards his cloaca as he watched you slide your pants down your legs.
Once your pants were off, your hands slowly ran from your hips up to your chest, where you let your hands glide over your bra covered breasts. Catching Leo’s eyes as you did so, he let out another wounded sound, before slowly undoing himself from his cloaca, holding his erect member in his hand while he waited for you to continue your little show for him. And you did, undoing your bra before letting it fall to the floor, so that your hands could start massaging your chest. Leo chuckled with a small smile, his hand slowly beginning to work up and down his member.
“Beautiful”, he mumbled, his voice having gone deeper and slightly raspy, making your panties more wet than they already were. “Absolutely beautiful”.
You felt pride bobble within you. Leo’s words always seemed to have that kind of effect on you. Just like you could turn him on with his, so could he turn you on. And he knew it. He could smell it, your scent strong in the air, making him just a little light headed. And he loved it. He had always loved what the scent of your arousal was able to do to him.
Your hands went from your breasts and down to the hem of your underwear, taking a hold of them by hooking your thumbs, before slowly pulling them down your hips, all while maintaining your intense eye contact with Leo. This had Leo churring much louder, with his hand quickening its motion on his erect member. What eye contact couldn’t do to this man.
You let your panties fall to the floor before stepping out of them, making your way up on the bed, stradling Leo’s waist. Having retracted his hand from his member, in order to make room for you, Leo’s hands came to rest on your thighs, needling the flesh, before letting his right hand move upwards, with the intent of cupping your sex. However, you slapped his hand away with another mischievous smile.
“I just told you, I’m the one that’s going to take care of you”.
Leo relented, letting his hands run mindlessly up and down your thighs, watching as you took his throbbing member into your hand, letting your thumb run over the tip of his head, smearing his precum around.
Leo’s brow muscles frowned as he let out a shaky breath, watching your hand do slow tugs on him, before carefully lining him up with your entrance, teasing both you and him.
“(Y/N)...”, Leo let out in a low moan, his fingers holding on tight to your thighs.
You bit your lip with a smile, knowing exactly what it was that your boyfriend wanted, making sure that you were lined up, before slowly sliding down upon him. You let out a breathy moan as you felt his thickness stretch you out, the sound of Leo’s churring only becoming stronger and louder, his hands becoming restless on your thighs once more. If it wasn’t from the wound on his side, he would have thrusted up into you. He would have pulled you down, so that you would lay flat against his plastron, where he could allow himself to pound into you relentlessly. But he couldn’t, leaving his at the mercy of you to give him needed.
“Now, lay still”, you said, already breathless just from his size, before you slowly started to rise up his member, only to slide back down on it once more, making you both moan from the small wave of pleasure. You repeated the motion, slowly increasing your speed as you went.
“Shit, babe”, Leo groaned, watching as your chest began to bounce with your movements, one of his hands grabbing one with a squish. You in turn let out a louder moan, before angling your legs, allowing you to increase your speed even further, your skin slapping against his with every bounce, the head of his member hitting the spot of your insides with ease.
With the increase of your speed, Leo threw his head back with a moan, closing his eyes momentarily at the amazing feeling of your tight wet walls around him.
“Don’t stop, babe”, Leo moaned, his eyes still closed and his face showing the relaxation and pleasure he was feeling. “Please don’t stop, (Y/N)”.
His words spurred you on, your hands coming to rest on his chest, providing you more support with each move. One of Leo’s hands found yours on his chest, stroking it with his thumb, watching your form above him, the looks he was giving you sending shivers and tingles straight to your core.
It might have been Leo’s slightly weakened state, or the fact that you made him calm down after a period of intense emotions with adrenaline rushing, but to his surprise, Leo already found the pressure build up behind his cloaca, alerting him to the fact that he was getting close. And you knew Leo well enough to know that he was close as well. From the restlessness of his hands feeling up your body, the way that his legs were moving behind you, and how his hips fought to move with you, was letting you know how close he was getting to his high.
“Want to cum?”, you asked sweetly. Leo nodded, his hooded yet lustful eyes never leaving yours. It was strange yet incredibly erotic to see him like this. Normally he was full of energy, having to use his impressive self control to hold himself back from fucking your brains out. But right now it wasn’t an option. With Leo’s wound and his body relaxing after such a high state, he did not have energy to hold back or hold his hips still, nor did he have the energy to force you down on the mattress and plow into you. He was truly at your mercy.
“Yes”, Leo almost whimpered, his fingers lightly clawing at your hips. “Fuck, yes please. I want to cum”.
The sound of Leo begging was new to you. Usually he would be the one calling the shots in the bedroom, edging you over and over again, and making you beg before he would let your orgasm take over you. But now, as your normally dominant boyfriend was begging beneath you, you suddenly understood why he wanted you to do the same usually. It felt like a powerrush. It was almost too good not to enjoy. And had Leo not been injured, you might have done it. Toyed with it, and do the same to him like he usually did to you. But you decided against it, not wishing to accidentally make his injury worse. Tonight the goal was to make Leo relax, and provide him comfort.
You leaned your face down to Leo’s, where you gave him a quick kiss, before moving your lips to neck, passing by where his ears would have been, whispering to him in a sultry voice; “Then cum for me, babe”.
And Leo did, moving his head to the side, giving you space to work your lips over his neck, while he came inside of you, his hips buckling as much as his wound would allow him to, his churrs and moans filling the room, making the excitement in your core grow even stronger.
Once Leo was calming down from his high, you moved to get off of him and lay down on the bed, letting his member slip out of you. But before you could get up from your straddling position, Leo stopped you with his hands on your waist.
“Where do you think you’re going?”, he asked with a slight mischievous glint in his eyes.
“I’m going to lay down so we can cuddle”, you said. “Just like we always do when we’re done”.
“Nah, we’re not done”, Leo said, pulling your hips back to his.
“But Leo, your wound-”.
“My wound is on my side, not on my face”, your boyfriend said, catching you off guard, leaving you stunned for a moment. He smiled at you, enjoying the look on your face, tugging at your hips. “Now, move up, sweetheart. I can’t heal without eating”.
Who would have thought that even a wounded Leo, would find ways to make you beg all night long…
#tmnt#teenage mutant ninja turtles#tmnt leonardo#tmnt leo#tmnt leo x reader#tmnt x reader#tmnt x reader smut#tmnt leo x reader smut#tmnt leonardo x reader#tmnt leonardo x reader smut#tmnt 2003#tmnt 2003 x reader#tmnt 2003 leo#tmnt 2003 leonardo#tmnt 2003 x reader smut#tmnt 2003 leo x reader#tmnt 2003 leo x reader smut#tmnt 2003 leonardo x reader#tmnt 2003 leonardo x reader smut#tmnt raphael#tmnt donatello#tmnt michelangelo#tmnt raph#tmnt donnie#tmnt mikey
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Bruce's Bathtime - Batfamily Sitcom
Bruce's mistake was thinking he could have a peaceful night in the bath on his day off when his manor is full of kids who share one brain.
A/N: HELLO EVERYONE I LOVE YOU AND IM SORRY I DISAPPEARED BUT I WANTED TO WRITE SOMETHING SWEET FOR YOU TO ENJOY. THIS IS HEAVILY INSPIRED BY "BATH" BY SAM AND MICKEY ON YOUTUBE.
WORDS: 1.7K
WARNINGS: NONE. IT'S WHOLESOME AND SWEET.
MASTERLIST
——-
Crime rates were always at an all-time low in time for the Superbowl.
Which meant Batman gets a day off. Duke was the only one on patrol that night. Alfred spent half an hour convincing him not to spend the night at the cave.
“Master Bruce, the bath has been drawn and I’ve taken the liberty of using the expensive lavender bath salts so you would not like to waste it.”
“You’re right, Alfred. I’m a billionaire and I find the fifty-dollar lavender salts a waste to not use.”
“Just get in the bath, Master Wayne. Just thirty minutes of quiet shall do you good. I’ve set an alarm.”
Since when did Bruce start working for him?
He did as told anyway. Bruce closed the bathroom door and stripped off his clothes to get in the tub. There were so many callouses in his body, he barely felt just how burning the temperature was.
It was just a minute in there when the first knock woke him from drifting off.
“Bruce?”
What the hell is Dick doing out of Bludhaven? “What?”
“Is the music room haunted?”
“No.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
“I heard something inside.”
“Instruments tend to do that.”
“I did a headcount of everyone in the manor and everyone is accounted for except Duke who you sent out for patrol so I doubt it’s anyone but a ghost,” Dick said.
“Get out.”
“But I’m not even inside the bathroom.”
“Go away.”
“What if it’s not a ghost? What if it’s a spy?”
“The manor has more advanced security systems than the Pentagon, Dick.”
“That’s not a good point of comparison.”
Bruce closed his eyes and let the steam slow his rising blood pleasure.
“Just check the room. Could have been the wind.”
“I’m too scared.”
This man was almost thirty and was still giving Bruce the same amount of aneurysms as when he was eight.
“Ask Alfred to check for you.”
“Okay.”
He heard fading footsteps and let them lull him into sleep. He set his large arms onto the sides of the tub, sinking his mouth under the water.
“Father,” a voice said from out the door followed by three soft knocks by a small hand.
“What, Damian?”
“I need you to sign this letter from the school headmaster.”
“What did you do?”
“I didn’t do anything.”
He doubted that.
“It’s for a parent-teacher conference.”
Bruce let the silence answer for him until Damian gave in.
“Someone attacked me in class.”
“Damian-“
“Okay, I threw the first punch but he taunted me first about how I was small for my age but I said that I’m of perfect size for my age and that I’m simply too smart to be crowded into elementary school children when my intellect belongs to that of a senior and then he asked what I was doing here and not in 5th grade and I said what was he doing here and not in 5th grade and he spat at me and now his nose is broken and they want you to cover the medical bills.”
Christ.
“Maybe you don’t have to pay it. You can call them yourself. You’re Bruce Wayne. You can get away with anything.”
“I can, but you’re not Bruce Wayne, so you have to deal with it.”
“Can you just sign this, Father?”
“Fine.”
Damian walked in, fanning the steam off his face and covering his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see his own father naked, then handed him the letter to sign it.
“Make sure your handwriting is the same as when I forged it.”
His eyes could not have rolled further back into his skull.
The boy walked out, just two seconds before the next set of voices made him wish the gunman shot him in the head four decades ago and not just his parents.
“Bruce, could you tell Jason he’s not the only one who died and come back to life and that his robin costume doesn’t deserve to have to top display in the Batcave anymore especially since he’s here?” Tim said.
Jason’s voice was even more obnoxious. “I died first, asshole and no one else would have died if it weren’t for me so clearly, you should thank me. And my rebranding was better. You’re still technically a robin since, you know, it’s the other half of your name, so you don’t deserve to be memorialized.”
“You don’t deserve to be memorialized at all when you’re alive and not a memory. You’re not even the first robin.”
“You’re not the first anything.”
“I’m the first at a lot of things.”
“Replacement.”
“Glorified zombie.”
Bruce grabbed the cucumbers Alfred had laid out on the table next to him just so his eyes wouldn’t burst out in blood at how much he wanted to scream.
“Ask Alfred what to do,” Bruce said.
“Alfred is with Dick in the music room to look for ghosts. We need an answer now.”
“What do you even want me to do?”
“Tim threw my robin costume piled up with all their robin costumes when clearly, it should be in the display case,” Jason said. “And Tim wants to move my motorbike out of the cave.”
“You have so many motorbikes, would it hurt you to move just one?”
“No.”
“Bruce!”
Bruce counted to ten. “No.”
“No to what?”
“Everything.”
“You don’t even know what you’re saying no to.”
“I could not care any less.”
“Can we please come in?”
“No, I’m naked.”
“We’ve seen you naked.”
“Not on purpose.”
Jesus fucking Christ. “Fine. Fine. We’ll get glass cases for both of you and we’ll pretend it’s a shrine as if you’re still dead. Happy?”
“Not from dying but sure,” said Tim.
“What about the motorbikes?”
“Put it outside,” said Bruce.
“Are you sure? What if someone sees?”
“Do whatever. Throw out the T-Rex in the cave for all I care.”
“Also, I need access to the batcomputers,” Jason said.
“For what?”
“Everyone else has access except me.”
“That’s for a reason, Jason.”
“Pretty please.”
“Get out.”
It took another five minutes of the two yapping at the other side of the door before it finally quieted down.
Then his phone started ringing. Duke.
That was when his blood pressure really started to spike.
“Duke? Is everything alright? What’s wrong?” he said to the phone.
“Me?” said Duke. “Oh yeah everything’s great! Not much crime when everyone’s watching the halftime show.”
“Then why’d you call?”
“Can I use the batmobile?”
Fuck a duck. “For what?”
“The streets are empty and you said I could drive it when there isn’t traffic.”
He hung up and threw the phone into the water before Duke could say anything else.
He had five minutes of quiet this time. Then Steph was at the door. “Bruce!”
An aneurysm. One of these days, he might actually have one.
“What now?”
“Can I change rooms?”
“Why?”
“Dick said there’s a ghost in the music room and my room is like five feet away and I don’t think I can sleep there anymore.”
“You slept there last night and everything is fine.”
“Ghosts can be quiet, Bruce, it doesn’t mean they’re not there. And you’ve made a lot of enemies, so I won’t be surprised if anyone’s settled in to haunt you.”
You’d think he wasn’t in a house full of vigilantes who fight the city’s most dangerous criminals.
“I haven’t killed anyone, Stephanie. I keep all my enemies alive.”
“What if it’s not your enemy? They don’t have to hate you to haunt you. Can I please just change rooms?”
“Move wherever you want. I don’t care.”
“Can I move to the bedroom at the west wing?”
“That’s mine,” Bruce said.
“You have a bedroom? I thought you never slept.”
“Fine. Take it. Just get out.”
“Really?” Steph squealed. “The master bedroom. Sweet!”
It took less than five seconds before the next reason for his headache started pounding at the door.
“Bruce! Jason is trying to hack into the batcomputer!”
“I did not!”
“He did!”
“The World’s Greatest Detective is just mad I guessed his password on the second try.”
Bruce sank into the water, drowning their yapping until it had blurred out. He held his breath for seven minutes straight. He could die. That wouldn’t be the worst thing. Just when it was finally quiet, again, Bruce rose up and found Damian sitting on the toilet.
He continued to look unbothered even when he looked at Bruce straight in the eye.
“Do you mind?”
“I’d like to use this toilet.”
“There’s fifteen bathrooms in the manor, Damian.”
“I like this one.”
“I understand I have not spent as much time with you, but this is not what your tutors mean by father-son bonding.”
“Oh no, don’t worry. I don’t mean to bond with you. I just like this toilet.”
“Fine. Please. Take your time.”
He did take his time. Damian sat there for a whole five minutes and pulled out a book.
“I wasn’t being serious. Get out of here.”
“Relax, father. It’s your day off.”
Bruce eyelids fluttered closed and he refused to open them until his son left the bathroom.
The next knock made a blood vessel pop. “Bruce. It’s me Barb. So sorry to bother you but I found another group of conspiracy theorists on the TikTok who made a list of billionaires who have never been seen in the same room as Batman and you’re the front liner of that list. I know you told me to never engage with these things but it’s at fifty million views right now and they’re making edits of you as Batman.”
“Make more bot accounts and pin it on Elon.”
“On it,” said Barbara. “So sorry to have disturbed you!”
He’s going to have a talk with Alfred to block off the whole floor the next time he draws these baths.
“Bruce?” It was Cass. “I hope it’s alright if I take Steph’s room. I took the liberty of putting a speaker in the music room so Dick would tell everyone there was a ghost in the manor and Steph would move out.”
The alarm went off. His thirty minutes were up.
One of these days, Bruce might finally break his no-kill rule, and it won’t be for the Joker.
---
A/N: I MISSED ALL OF YOU ASSHOLES AND I HOPE THIS WON'T BE THE LAST
TAGLIST
@karurururu @trixie-bb @childofposeidonforlife @fantasticwizardnerd @iibonniee @queenoftodd @foenixphire @omgtheywereroommates98 @spooklies @nyja-ls @jason-todd-is-my-husband @pieanq @spookyfrances @tacticaldivine @bathroom-sand @vicomtess @willieoo @consultingkilljoywinchester @elsenthal @willowoo @massiveathletefanauthor @chemicalpapercuts @the-abyss-of-fandoms @pparkeramorr @pricetagofficial @traceymoyashi @seutarose @littleredwing89 @astrids-pandora @nomalu1 @knightfall05x @lovelyartemisa @fourteengemstones @acookiesnmilkuniverse @24-7-multifandomsimp @xemiefx @cherry-glade @ @lilith1717 @yujikuna @dwboutit17 @ouflater @satan-s-ass @indigowcrds @little-prying-pandora @butwhyduh @killersandmonkeys @kierdlt @illzarr @ramdomtails @probsjosh @angel-lover-alice @evalynanne @adazzlingsakura @offendedfishnoises @lupinslibraries @comic-cat83 @jason-todd-is-my-husband @estrela-rogers @jadesublime @tedii-bear00 @andieperrie18 @willieoo @insanebatty @queennightsetz @mkknrd22robinlover @she-sees-fire @quintessences0posts @spideypoolfeelz @batgalsblog @mello-d @https-101iamtheredhood101 @offendedfishnoises
#BATMAN#bruce wayne#batfamily#wayne family#dick grayson#jason todd#tim drake#duke thomas#barbara gordon#cassandra cain#stephanie brown
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Somethin' Stupid - A.A.
Pairings: Astarion x Fem!Tav/Reader (Bard)
Warnings: BG3 Act 3 Spoilers! Fluff! Use of Frank Sinatra’s “Somethin’ Stupid” lyrics, Tav gives off Disney Princess Energy, Astarion is stuck in a rut but you help him out, Insecure!Astarion, Spawn!Astarion
Wordcount: 1,182
Summary: You’ve had your eyes on Astarion for a while, but lately he seems distant. You take it upon yourself to brighten his day, with the use of what you know and love. Music. And of course, a goofy smile.
A/N: Thank you @ditzdreamweaver for this prompt for Y/N serenading Astarion! I think it was an absolutely adorable idea, I definitely went a bit angstier with it but there's still a bunch of fluff/cuteness.
Ever since the party had defeated Cazador, Astarion seemed down. He chose to free the thousands of spawn that were kept in captivity into the Underdark. And yet, he struggled. He slightly regretted his decision not to ascend. He felt that he could have been a much more powerful asset to the team. In short, his insecurities were eating at him, and he couldn’t stand being around the rest of the group. Not for long, anyways. He could only uphold his confident aura for so long. Especially with you. You would never judge him, you had seen him covered in blood after stabbing Cazador, and you were the one who took a damp towel to wipe off the blood he should see or reach.
You and Astarion had grown fairly close, even with the heartache everyone in the party suffered. But lately, he felt distant. Typically, he would spend most nights chatting with the party, then you two would continue conversing into the late hours of the night. Astarion, was of course, a vampire elf, and you were a bard who was a natural night owl from the late nights playing in the taverns. Despite this, and the pull he felt to continue those late nights with you, something within him inhibited him from doing so.
“I’m heading to bed” Astarion muttered, before puttering off towards his tent. It was merely a few moments following your return to camp, and the sun had not yet set. Gale had begun to prepare a meal for the rest of the group, the glistening fire flickering below a large pot, which he intended to fill with a stew of sorts.
As Astarion’s tent completely secluded him from the rest of the group, you finally decided you had had enough. You would not let him suffer alone. You trotted over to your own tent happily, grabbing your lute from the corner. It had been a while since you played for an audience, but you needn’t worry about your abilities.
“I know I stand in line” You sang. “until you think you have the time” Astarion listened intently to your melodic voice, which easily had the capacity to draw him in. He hadn’t heard it since the very beginning of your journey together, but the strength of your voice hadn’t faltered. In fact, it sounded even more powerful than before. “to spend an evening with me…” You continued singing, dancing around the camp, with your typical goofball smile along your lips. The others reciprocated your happiness. Wyll, Karlach, Shadowheart, and even Lae’zel danced along the perimeter of the camp with you, Scratch and the owlbear cub clearly enjoying the music as well. Gale swayed as he was cooking, his feet pitter-pattering to the sound of the beat coming from your lute.
“Then afterwards we drop into a quiet little place and have a drink or two” you sang, dancing towards Astarion’s tent. Your voice radiated outside of the tent, steadily ushering him towards you. He wondered if you were a siren in your past life. “And then I go and spoil it all by saying somethin’ stupid like” with that, Astarion approached the edge of the tent, his fingers pulling the flap of his tent so he could view you just as you sang “I love you.” He watched as your pupils dilated as he came into your visibility, and he felt like you truly meant the words you were singing. The goofy smile plastered on your face was enhanced even more, and Astarion was able to smile for the first time in several weeks.
“I love you too, darling.” In all honesty, Astarion couldn’t remember the last time he spoke those words truthfully. You continued strumming as you ushered him to follow you over to sit on a log with you under the shade, a little further from camp. The rest of the group had disbanded to allow you your time together. As you began to slow the song down, some of Astarion’s insecurities began to plague him once more, but you tugged him past them. “Talk to me, Star” you prompted, pulling your lute off of your lap and opting to place it up against the tree next to you.
You turned towards Astarion, granting him your full attention. He looked at you with saddened eyes but couldn’t bring himself to look away. “I should have done it, Y/N.” He stated simply. A puzzled look came upon your face, and you reached for his hands to place in yours. He granted you them, then shuttered with pleasure as you softly ran your thumbs up and down the back of his hands. “What should you have done, Astarion?”
“I should have ascended.” Instead of acting flabbergasted, you remained calm, looking at him with gentle eyes. “Why do you say that my love?”
Gods, Astarion could barely take when you spoke those words to him. You were so gentle with him, which he was grateful for, but on the other hand it made him feel weak. He didn’t want to need to be taken care of.
“I want to be stronger for you. To protect you. To protect the party. To have the power to ensure that none of you ever get hurt again.” He spoke, and you felt your heart palpate against your chest. “Star…” You spoke, gentle eyes looking at him yet again.
“Do you realize how strong you are?” You questioned, with little response from him, merely a glance from his glossy eyes. “You have traveled far and wide for all of us here. You defeated your sadistic master, you helped us through the Gauntlet of Shar, through the Creche, through Grymforge, through Moonrise Tower! You learned how to stand up for yourself and what you wanted! We’ve saved people, and brought others to their demise, deservingly so!” You exclaimed, nearly standing up and lecturing him. “You’ve learned more about yourself in these past few months than you have in the rest of your lifetime, Astarion. Do you know how much you have to be proud of? I’m glad you didn’t ascend, Astarion. You wouldn’t be you if you didn’t. Ascending would have been the easy choice. The easy way out. A way for you to continue Cazador’s pattern of torture. But you decided to do better for yourself! You are one hundred percent the strongest man I’ve ever met, Astarion. And I’m not going to sit here, and let you tell yourself other-” with that, Astarion placed the gentlest kiss upon your soft lips.
Your eyes widened upon impact, surprised by the pale elf’s action. After a moment, you pulled away, simply stating “uhm- wow. That was really nice.” Next, you felt Astarion’s arms wrap around you, nuzzling into your neck. You allowed one of your hands to trace on his back, while the other played in his hair. “Thank you, darling.” He mumbled into your skin. “Of course” you responded, closing your eyes and allowing yourself to just be there with him for a while. It was what he needed, after all.
#astarion#astarion ancunin#astarion bg3#astarion fluff#astarion vampire#baldur's gate 3#bg3 astarion#astarion fanfiction#bg3 fandom#astarion x reader#astarion x tav#astarion x you#astarion x y/n#astarion romance#baldurs gate astarion#tav x astarion#astarion angst
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"What's it like to be filled with dread? Dreadfully."
Dazai Osamu x reader
This was not supposed to happen. He had gone over every part of the plan and had backup responses in case things went wrong, but not for this. Never for this.
You were not supposed to be there and Dazai could only watch as you jumped out from behind a column, where he had left you after you chased after him.
God, you were stubborn. He should have known, should have considered that, but you were too impulsive, too irrational. Quick to jump the gun and ask questions later.
The sound of the gunshot replayed in his ears like a broken record. He could only stand and watch as blood began to soak your shirt, right by your abdomen on your left side. But it was your scream that haunted him. His mind raced, his heart pumped blood through his veins, and adrenaline flooded his senses. Dread filled him as he saw the pool of blood growing around your fallen body.
Yosano was not here, but he knew that when the blood reached a certain amount, there was nothing that could be done.
Your pained gasp brought him back to his senses. His knees buckled and he crawled over to you. His gun fell to the ground, but he did not care. He was open and vulnerable to be killed, but he would gladly die if it meant staying next to you.
His hands cradled your head, heavy and pale, as a string of blood left your mouth and your eyes focused on him. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry… Osamu… I'm sorry…" Your breath quickened as the pain shot through your body. A small cry escaped your lips, and your eyes watered as they focused on Dazai. His hands shook as he reached over to place a hand on your wound and apply pressure, earning a cry from you as your face twisted in pain and sweat gathered on your forehead.
"I know, I know, shh shh, you're okay… you're okay, just breathe, please." He did not realize that the fighting was still going on, the ringing in his ears too loud. He could feel that he was losing you. He had killed enough people to know when they were too far gone. But he held onto hope and thought about Yosano. His hand slipped into his pocket, gripping his phone, but his hands were too shaky and the phone slipped from his grasp, now covered in blood.
For the first time, the sight of blood made his gut twist. Your blood. His attention returned to your face, your eyes turning glassy as you cried freely. The hand he had on your stomach was now deep crimson and slippery, but he pressed harder. This time, you did not gasp in pain, and he felt panic rise in his chest.
He turned to you, a panicked expression on his face as he felt like a knife was twisting in his heart. You looked at him, your panicked face mirroring his. "I can't…" Your eyes turned misty and tears gathered in them. "I can't feel your touch." Your voice came out softly, barely above a whisper, but it resonated harshly in Dazai's ears. "I don't want to die, Osamu." Your eyes were full of terror as you came to grips with your situation. Dazai felt his heart breaking, his chest tightening until he couldn't breathe quite right.
"No, no, please, breathe, you're okay." His voice broke as he clung to your hand, his eyes searching around the chaos for his phone, his breaths ragged and short. "I can call Yosano… she'll heal you in no time, please just hold on for me, please." Tears blurred his vision and he wiped them away angrily, your blood coating his face. The smell of iron filled his nose, and he felt sick. Tears fell from your eyes as you sobbed softly in his arms. The blood was too much.
His eyes snapped to yours, watching the life in your eyes slowly vanish. "I love y-" Your voice faded out before you could finish, your life draining out of you in crimson streams, pooling around him and swallowing him whole. "No, no, please…" He let himself fall onto you, his cries muffled by your chest, the feeling of your body pressed against his. "Not you too, please… don't leave me too."
Time slowed to a stop. The ringing in his ears became louder. Dread filled his lungs and his mind.
You were gone. And this time, it was his fault.
I felt like trying my hand at angst. I used a part of the baseline test from the movie Blade Runner 2049. Hope I did it right. Do message me with any thoughts or improvements for the future or this fic in particular!
#bsd dazai#bsd x reader#bsd#bungo stray dogs#dazai osamu#osamu x reader#osamu dazai#dazai x reader#dazai x y/n
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𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐌𝐄, 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔
𝐆𝐄𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐍𝐀 (wotaku)
i'm sorry i deceived you
i'm sorry i couldn't tell you
and this is so sad
but suffering is our only bond
𝙛𝙧𝙤𝙢 𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙪𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙚, 𝙜𝙚𝙝𝙚𝙣𝙣𝙖
━━ ╸between wanting to live or die, i didn’t know which side to pick. death…i've come close to it plenty of times, closer than I'd like to admit.
“welcome home."
so simple, yet somehow, it makes me want to see another day. i'll crawl back from death’s grasp, just to hear you say it again, just to know you'll never stop waiting for me. so keep waiting…
i’ll come back to you, always.
love, kakavasha
the stench of antiseptic clung to aventurine's skin, a jarring mix with the lingering scent of blood — someone else's this time. another close call, another deal gone sideways, another life thrown to death’s doors. the same damn routine with a different front. another enemy. another target.
he tossed his jacket over the back of the sofa, the weight of its designer label a bitter joke reminder to how, no matter how much luxury he's covered in, his market value will always be worth 60 tanba. this penthouse, the suits, the smiles – all part of the intricate dance he played, one where a misstep usually meant a bullet in his head.
every step towards the liquor cabinet felt like agony. his injured leg throbbed with a dull, insistent ache. he swore under his breath, downing a shot with a wince. the burn was a welcome distraction, numbing the not only the physical wounds.
a soft gasp made him turn. you were there, silhouetted against the kitchen doorway, eyes wide and filled with a familiar blend of fear and worry.
"shouldn't you be in bed?" aventurine tried for a smirk, but it came out as a ragged grimace.
he saw the flash of hurt in your eyes before you moved forward, quick and quiet. you didn't lecture, didn't demand answers. instead, your hands were gentle as you helped him towards a chair, fetching first aid. wordlessly, you cleaned and dressed the gash on his thigh.
he watched you, memorizing the way your lips frowned and your brows knitted together. it was always you, waiting in the dark stillness after the adrenaline faded. a constant amidst the chaos. his throat tightened. if he had a shred of self-preservation, he'd walk away and cut his losses, just to spare you this worry, this fear.
“aventurine," your voice was soft, breaking his spiral of grim thoughts, "thank you for coming back to me."
the simple words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken emotions. a flicker of disbelief softened aventurine's expression. the exhaustion etched on his face, the physical wounds he carried – they were a constant reminder of the life he chose, a life he can’t easily abandon. but with you here, the carefully constructed facade crumbled a little. he stole a glance at your face, the worry etched there a stark contrast to your usual smile.
mother goddess knows aventurine would crawl back to you if he has to, every single time. you were his reason, the rekindling of a thirst to live, crawl, survive. "doll, if you keep waiting for me like this so earnestly, i'm afraid i'm left with no other choice but to come back."
𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐕 - 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 - 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓
#💌. from me to you#aventurine x reader#hsr aventurine#honkai star rail#hsr#aventurine honkai star rail#honkai star rail x reader#aventurine x you#hsr imagines#hsr x reader
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hey, i know i’m late but just read your jason todd x joker’s daughter reader and absolutely loved it !!
this isn’t a request don’t worry, but i just thought about how when reader moves back to jason’s apartment, he starts witnessing signs of self-loathe and trauma in reader. like, they would repair their damaged relationship obviously, but reader would still get flashbacks of jason yelling at her and joker’s taunts, you know?
so it made me imagine a scenario where it’s a quiet night, jason’s just gotten back from patrol and thought about cuddling with reader, but she’s not in bed. then, he suddenly hears the sound of glass smashing and her scream and wail from the bathroom. he panics internally thinking an intruder got in, but when jason opened the door he just sees reader having a meltdown with the mirror shattered and her fist bleeding, which means she deliberately smashed the mirror by herself. she’s even pleading and begging for someone who isn’t there to stop showing up, and has this distant look in her eyes like she’s seeing someone jason can’t.
it turns out, reader sees the joker everytime she looks in the mirror because of their blood and whatnot, and finally snapped. like, she can’t see her own reflection when she looks at the mirror, instead it’s joker’s wide grin whispering those cruel words that no one will ever love her. she might’ve come to terms with herself that she’s not like joker, but i think the self-loathe of being related to him wouldn’t go away that easily.
“leave me alone, please, no, joker,” reader would whisper along those lines while sobbing hard and she’s covering her ears with her bloodied hands and closing her eyes tight and jason’s heart would just shatter completely. jason would tend to her carefully of course, trying to calm her down in his own way and comforting her, trying to make her see him instead of her father. then, at some point reader would open up about it so he learns while treating her busted knuckles about how she hates looking into the mirror because she can’t see herself, and jason would feel even more guilty but holds reader gently within his arms.
jason wouldn’t force her to look in the mirror, but he would help her if she wants to by standing in front of the mirror with her or hugging her from behind. just letting her see him as well in the reflection. if there’s a full body mirror in his apartment, i think he would cover it with a big fabric or blanket so reader wouldn’t accidentally catch the reflection and see someone else again.
omg that’s so long but just wanted to share my imagination with you !! i’m such a sucker for angst lmao thank you for feeding it to me 😭
literally who the fuck gave you permission to make me cry.
sorry for the late reoly, BUT OH MY GODDDD
I love having fics where readers take their own spin on it
#mickeysideas#jason todd#jason todd x reader#red hood#red hood x reader#jason todd is my life#titans jason todd#i love jason todd#dc titans#jason todd titans#jason todd headcanon
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Hey, sorry to trouble you. Unsure of your time zone so i hope this is sent at a good time! (Sorry if it isn't!)
Could you maybe do something with Vox and a Reader who saves him from a surprise attack via a Sinner or Angel?
Kinda the Reader just like 'Oh sorry i got blood on you. Glad you're okay.' With Vox unsure if he wants this person under contact or to kiss them. Or do whatever go nuts!
(I have no idea what timezone I’m in tbh, I’m too lazy to check. As I’m posting this it is 10:50 AM where I live, if that helps anyone. No worries, though! I love answering all your asks and writing out posts based on your requests!)
“Walking downtown, avoiding the paparazzi…” Vox muttered to himself. He’d really done it this time. He was trying to avoid being out of the Vee tower for too long, but he’d taken a detour with almost no Voxtek cameras. Now he couldn’t teleport. It made him uneasy. “God fucking damnit…”
“Stop right there, bitch,” a sinner demon said, pointing a gun at him. Vox froze, but not out of fear. He was surprised first, that a sinner demon would try to hurt an Overlord. This one must be new, or arrogant. But as he looked at the gun, he couldn’t help the tidal wave of emotions that over came him, all memories of compromising situations- similar situations- he’d been in when he was alive. “That’s right, now… put your hands where I can see them.”
Vox absentmindedly complied, still partially reliving every single time he’d had a gun pointed at him before. Every wound he’d received, every bullet he’d had to fish out of his own flesh.
“Good, now-”
The sinner demon was cut off brutally. With an axe. To its neck. Its head came off with ease and you stood behind it, looking surprised. Vox’s eyes widened. Now he was vaguely afraid.
“Oh. I didn’t expect it to be so… fragile,” you said, nudging the corpse of the demon lightly. “Huh. Well, in any case…” you looked up to Vox, an apologetic look on your face. “Sorry about that. Did I get any blood on your suit? I can cover the expenses.”
“I… uh,” Vox was speechless. He’d just frozen up in front of a lowlife sinner demon and had been saved by another, who was now apologizing to him. What the fuck. Something had to be wrong with him, especially with these weird feelings he had in his chest. Felt all fluttery and stupid like butterflies. “My suit is fine. I narrowly avoided the splash zone, I think. Thank you for your offer.”
“Of course! Not a problem,” you said with a smile. Vox noticed you hadn’t stepped any closer to him, you’d kept your distance. But you’d put your axe away. You knew who he was and how dangerous he was, how defenseless you were in comparison, but you were still talking to him. Did you feel superior to him just because you’d saved him? No, that couldn’t be it… you seemed so… genuine. “Seedy part of town for a business man like yourself to be in. I’m guessing the paparazzi were a nightmare today?”
“Oh absolutely,” Vox said with a grin. He was quickly regaining his confident demeanor. “It was absolute torture at that interview! Ah, but don’t tell anyone I said that. It wouldn’t be good for my image. I’m sure you can keep a secret,” he said, linking his arm in yours and walking with you. This was a test.
“Definitely,” you said, with a small laugh. “It’d be far more embarrassing for me, anyway. I mean, the fact I interrupted your walk through town? With murder, no less! That was quite rude of me.” You smiled, carefree and lighthearted as he walked you away. You didn’t even know where he was taking you, but you were still so upbeat. “No worries. If you don’t tell anyone about that little incident back there, I won’t say a word about your occasional distaste for public attention.”
“Wonderful! Sounds like a deal, then,” Vox said, looking down at you. He was pleased with how this whole thing had gone. You hadn’t even seen him as weak for freezing up in front of that other sinner demon! You probably thought he was annoyed or planning to kill the demon himself. His image was safe, you didn’t suspect a thing. You had no idea how vulnerable he’d been in the moment back there. “Say, how about we make another, more official deal? Something with some actual benefits.”
“Really?” You asked, looking surprised. “I mean, I don’t have much to offer. We only just met and-”
“And you’ve piqued my interest, dear,” he said with a smile. He held your arm tighter, more protectively. Whether you agreed to anything or not, he’d be keeping you around. “I have a feeling we’ll get to know each other very well.”
#hazbin hotel#vox#hazbin hotel vox#hazbin vox#writing#vox x reader#my writing#x reader#reader insert#thanks anon!
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babe would you still love me if we were superheroes and you were in danger and i went absolutely bonkers and crossed every moral boundary imaginable to protect you at literally any cost?
#would you still love me if i was covered in blood for you?#anywayyyy more superheros going of the fucking deep end for love thanks <3333#this isn't based in anything in particular unfortunately i would simply like to see it#anyway.....people compromising their morals for love!!! doing the wrong thing for selfish reasons!!!#too many people commenting on my betrayal post think its about ur lover changing your mind/making you realize u were wrong#no!!! its about choosing the wrong side in purpose!!! going against ur beliefs bc u love someone more than ur conscience#KNOWING its wrong but doing it anyway in absolute AGONY because what other choicebdo you have!!!#anyway <3#sacrifice ur soul for ur lover or don't waste their time#this has been a shitpost#please tag your blorbos <3#ig this is lowkey and anidala post but i want the superhero version please and also without the totally implosion of the ship and hero#i want the good guy lover to live with the weight of his sins knowing he can never atone but he would make all the same choices again 🤌#devotion to your lover above everything!! past the point of redemption or the ability to forgive yourself!!!#(this is good when the lover is horrified but better when they forgive their lover for the atrocities committed for their own sake)#otp dynamic fr#worm discourse
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Listen, I'm sorry to the people who draw Veils in torn/bloody robes because of the whole Vake thing but you're simply wrong. Do you think Veils would Ever go out like that. Do you think it doesn't have fifteen changes of clothes ready immediately, with options depending on the day and occasion, to climb into when it comes back from killing things. Of course it does. Veils is getting home, taking a shower in the Bazaar, putting on a new perfectly clean robe with accent panels and silk trim, and then dabbing 1 (one) tasteful bloodstain on the hem of it with a claw because it's arrogant and it thinks it can get away with it. What is a Veils if it's not serving cunt. Of course it is.
#Fallen London#Mr Veils#BaL spoilers#i do love veils it's awful. i love it as the interpretation of a beast unchained and a wild thing resenting its constraints#and that's the most common interpretation of it i tend to see#but Also it is a politician. so so so clearly. it covers up its crimes with spotless cufflinks and talks the blood away#it's spent hundreds of years swaying who it wants and killing who it wants in kind#the apparent clashing of its domains is funny sometimes but also to me it makes perfect sense#fashion and violence. look elevated enough and anyone will believe you. kill ruthlessly enough and the ones who don't don't matter#it's the perfect cover#it's also why in spite of seeing some relatability in its moments of straining for freedom Hallowrove doesn't regret killing it#if it were just a beast following its instincts out of control that would be one thing#if it were even a consicous thing bringing anything to ruin it could as revenge for being trapped that's another#but it just so clearly enjoys having power over things. and using that power to crush#and the manipulation beforehand#...hm. makes me wonder if the feelings in the early vake dreams were genuine#or if it constructed the rush to lure the player further into hunting it#.... you know what i think it was genuine actually. and i think it still doesn't matter.#sorry for bag a legend rambling on the funny poast i just think about it a lot still#in spite of finishing more than a year ago
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-`. introducing LILIA LAURENT and the band two headed mother.
for @infamous-if featuring @umbertors dead romantics ! 🎸
-`. THIS IS TWO HEADED MOTHER // -`. GOOD BAD IDEA
(TEMPLATES: 1 . 2 . 3 // COLORING // BACKGROUND)
TAGLIST (please feel welcome to ask to be tagged or removed!): @fragilestorm, @griffin-wood, @risingsh0t, @florbelles, @marivenah, @kingsroad, @roofgeese !
#oc: lilia laurent#x: lilia x griffin#if: infamous#☕️: caroline#oc: halle damanik#friends ocs#leg.edits#leg.ocs#infamous if#infamous mc#the whole *walks out of photoshop covered in blood* routine !#SHES HERE SHES HERE SOBBING ON THE FLOOR SHES HERE !#a long creative slump and a mini hiatus later and shes here ! and i am in love with how it turned out!!#teehee on the g track PURELY SELF INDULGENT but they mean the world to me those two ! THEM!#as said please feel free to ask to be tagged or removed ! trying things out and thought it would be cute!#TY TY ALYA FOR HELPING WITH THE DILEMMA ON THE BG YOU ARE A TREASURE!#and featuring halle ! still on the floor lilia was included in her edit so i had to add her to this as well <3#a few of the songs are them to the letter and others are more vibe and things they listen to?#the perks of having famous parents (theyre models!) is having your film premiere at venice film fest <3#amy i hope i got the vibe for soft violence right ! she for sure listens to a song or two! (especially the ones she knows were abt her <3)#lilia and twh southern gothic icons !!!!!!!!#smoking mention#just in case ? it is and is inspired by crush by queenie ethel <3 as is her band and aesthetics !#*myedits#*ocedit
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YEAH SURE! WHAT COULD PUNCHING A WALL POSSIBLY DO TO YOUR ROTTING LITTLE ARM, ZOMBIE BOY? HUH? HUHH????
#cw gore#jrwi fanart#jrwi show#jrwi prime defenders#jrwi pd spoilers#william wisp#RAHHH THIS IS SO OOOLLLDD BUT IT NEEDS TO GET OUT OF MY WIPS N INTO THE WORLD BC ITS STILL PRETTY GOOD...#ITS NOT THAT BAD#I loved this stupid scene so much btw actually the one thing that stopped me from finishing it for sooooo long was that i actually wanted#to draw the rest of the scene leading up to it. smth smth givin vyn mouth2mouth i dont remember what the bit was. cpr. whatever. i forgor#but its NEVER GONNA HAPPENNNN RAAHHHH IMM TIRED N LAZY AND I JUST WANTED THIS OUT.#IF YOU DONT GO HERE U WONT KNOW WHAT THE FUCKS GOIN ON!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!#ANYWAY IM RLY PROUD O THAT BONE. SO GLAD THAT WILLIAMS TOO DEAD TO HAVE BLOOD OTHERWISE I WOULD#HAVE TO COVER UP ALL THE DELICIOUS BONE N MEAT. I LOVE DRAWIN BONES N MEATS!! YEAH BABY!!!
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