#⊵ Eternal Darkness

[harmcnia-gropius]

[@axhroma] Colress isn't sure how the weird.. link.. thing.. he has with Lady Yamask works, but he needs to speak with her. Here goes winging it. The attempt happens around the same hour, adjusted for Paldean time, that every other occasion occurred. He focuses on the Rotom phone on his worktable. The only noise around him is the faint humming of machinery. "Um.." Arceus, just kill him. "Miss Yamask?"

A beat of silence. "I want to better understand your motivations behind this whole.. thing."

Her voice started as a gentle static, almost quiet enough to make your ears ring, not enough to make out without equipment professional ghost trainers used, an EVP recorder perhaps?

Had she always begun like this? Denial would makes these subtle things easy to ignore, surely..

"You are a brash one, Doctor."

Like a droplet into a pond, she finally speaks in a volume you can understand, though her tone has a hint at true malice in it this time.

"Weren't you too deep in your web to tell the insects apart? Decided to unbury your head to assist my plight, or just to save your skin?"

She seems a fowl mood, her visage flickering like a horror film on the tiny screen.

If your device's Rotom was in control, it might complain of an overwhelming heat. Spirits need energies, and you've offered her a phone battery on what seems to have been a very bad evening.

[luvgavii]

wet dreams - (pg8)

summary: pedri's special way of waking you up ;)

warning: smut. minors do not interact!!

It wasn't often that you slept in. Whether it was because of uni or because you wanted to make your boyfriend breakfast before he leaves for training, early mornings were a part of your routine.

Today was an exception, you didn't have to go to university until the afternoon, so it was finally the day when it wasn't necessary to put an alarm.

When Pedri stirred, stretching his muscled arms out with a small yawn, his dark brown orbs fluttered open, immediately turning to his side to look at you. You looked so peaceful, your chest rising and falling with every breath you took. Pedri smiled to himself, reaching out to put a strand of hair that was in your face behind your ear, his touch soft and tender, careful not to wake you up.

The moment you laid from your side to your back, the covers slid just enough to reveal your chest, your perky nipples immediately making Pedri's pupils dilate, his mind going to the night before.

He bit down on his lower lip, fighting back the urge to run a hand over your breasts. He wasn't a fan of touching you in such an intimate way without having your consent, no matter how many times you'd told him you wouldn't mind to wake up to his face between your thighs.

You've taken him by surprise when a quiet hum left your slightly parted lips, his chocolate eyes moving from your tits to your face, taking in your messy bed hair. Even in moments like this, when his morning wood physically hurt him, he couldn't help but look at you lovingly, his gaze filled with eternal love.

Pedri smirked, and he stated 'why not?' as he started lowering himself to press wet, open mouthed kisses to your collarbone, moving lower to the valley between your breast.

Your peaceful dream has suddenly taken a turn between dreamland and reality, your mind still half asleep as you tried to figure out if what you were feeling is real or just a dream. Regardless, you hummed, laying on your back more comfortably and nuzzling your head into the pillow, giving him more access to your body. Pedri took this as a sign to continue, he looked up at you, seeing that your eyes were still closed, his tongue darted out to tease your nipple, while his hand took care of the other one.

That sensation alone was enough to convince you of reality, your lips curling into a sleepy smile as Pedri pulled the covers to the side, revealing your bare body to him as he continued to kiss down your body, his tongue tasting your skin ever so lightly as he settled between your thighs, his lips leaving love bites. He finally looked up at you, his hands softly caressing your thighs as you hummed and whimpered, a smirk on his lips as he saw your sleepy-lust filled expression.

"Abre las piernas para mí, muñeca," he instructed and you couldn't help but do so, your thoughts filled with the dirtiest images the human brain could imagine. (spread your legs for me, doll)

Pedri's fingers ran over your inner thighs, his touch light and teasing as he eyed your glistening core, his tongue darting out to lick his lower lip in anticipation. One of his hands moved to your hip, holding you down against the soft mattress as his finger ran over your folds, producing a dirty, wet sound that made his blind go blank for a second before regaining composure, his two fingers spreading your pussy in front of him. He enjoyed how desperate you were for him, how you bucked your hips begging for more, and he was going to give you everything you asked for.

His breaths came out in short pants, seeing you leak your juices around his fingers as you clenched around nothing. Pedri smirked up at you, obviously loving how you responded to his touch, he was filled with pride and arrogance, knowing he is the only one that gets to see this side of you.

Ending the cruel teasing, he finally lowered himself to your pussy, his brown eyes locked on yours, his fluffy and messy hair (😔😔) resting on his forehead. He ran his tongue over your folds, collecting your juices with the tip of his tongue as you moaned and arched your back into him. Pedri closed his eyes for a moment, savoring your taste against his tongue as he groaned, the vibration only making your thighs tremble even more.

His tongue moved up to your clit, flicking the sensitive bundle of nerves with practiced skill as his mouth sucked on it. Pulling away slightly, Pedri tore his eyes from you, instead, he looked at your pussy, his finger teasing your entrance, making you whimper with need. He smiled wickedly, his chin and stubble glistening with your juices as he did so, slowly sliding a finger inside of you and groaning at the warm, wet place.

"Estás tan necesitada, nena. Tan preparada para mí, tan mojada," he groaned, his middle finger starting to move in and out of you at a slow, steady pace. (you're so needy, baby. so ready for me, so wet.)

"Más," you managed to breathe out, looking down at him through your eyelashes as he rested between your thighs, watching his middle finger move in and out of you with sloppy sounds that seemed to fade away in the background of your moans.

You gasped and tilted your head back, your eyes closing shut as not only did you feel him add his ring finger, but also felt his tongue and mouth on your clit again, moving more rapidly this time. You moaned, his name rolling off your tongue like honey as his fingers seemed to hit every single one of your sweet spots, curling in that perfect way to push you closer to your orgasm, your sleep long forgotten.

The knot in your stomach tightened, making you clench around his fingers tightly, your hand tangling in his hair and guiding his movements to prevent him from edging you, your moans becoming more loud and desperate as your body spasmed with the intensity of your orgasm. Pedri helped you ride it out, his fingers sliding out of you as they got replaced by his tongue, licking and slurping on your juice like his life depended on it.

As you panted, trying to catch your breath, Pedri lifted himself up, his glistening lips formed into a grin, clearly pleased by how you two started the morning.

"Creo que podría acostumbrarme a mañanas como esta," he said cheekily, kissing your stomach and chest as he towered over you, coming face to face with you, still grinning as his eyes shined with mischief.

You chuckled, wiping his mouth and chin with your palm before pressing a soft kiss to his lips.

"Y creo que podría acostumbrarme a despertarme así," you grinned back with a cheeky giggle. (and i think i could get used to waking up like this) "Round 2?"

[calif0rnia-lovers]

safe place.

an: ngl, I wanted to hug jude & bukayo through the screen when England lost😔

requested: I remember seeing that Jude said his mom helps him when he gets "too low with the lows or too high with the highs." Can you do a fic where his gf is that way?

pairing: jude bellingham x black!reader

series: lyrically inspired tales.

if my heart aches, you breathe with me at my pace.

song: safe place by ruthanne

warnings: this is most definitely not edited lol.

The stadium lights had dimmed, and the roar of the crowd had faded into a distant memory, replaced by a haunting silence. Jude Bellingham sat in the quiet of his hotel room, the weight of the Euro final's loss pressing heavily on his shoulders. Exhaustion seeped into his bones—physically, mentally, and emotionally he was tapped. The missed shot that could have changed everything replayed in his mind, a tormenting loop of what-ifs and if-onlys.

He felt utterly drained, each breath a reminder of the effort he had poured into the match. The worst part about losing was feeling like he was at his lowest, despite all the hard work and dedication he had poured in for his country. The memory of the silver medal being draped over his shoulder, the relentless flashes of cameras, and the disappointed faces of fans loomed over him like a dark cloud. He had tried to keep his head up, stopping to hug each of his teammates, whispering words of encouragement, but it still hurt like hell. He had forced a brave face, stifling the sting in his eyes, reassuring his family and friends that he was alright. Keeping up the front until he reached his room had been a monumental task, and now, alone in the dim light, the facade crumbled.

He stared blankly at the wall, the ache of disappointment settling deep within his chest. Hours seemed to drag by, each minute stretching into an eternity. His phone was on Do Not Disturb. Although he knew the messages were meant with the best intentions, Jude wasn’t ready to read the encouraging texts sent to him. He hadn't spoken to anyone since the bus doors closed, needing space to process the defeat alone. The team’s efforts, the dreams of a nation, all seemed to hang on that one moment when his shot had veered just slightly off course.

A knock at the door broke through his reverie. Jude ignored it at first, unwilling to face anyone. If he didn’t call out, whoever it was would go away. But then it came again. 

A single knock, followed by three softer knocks, a distinct rhythm that was all too familiar. It was a special knock. Your special knock, a signal that meant more than words ever could. It prompted him to rise from the bed and cross the room.

Your interaction at the stadium was still a blur. A rushed kiss against his lips, nose, and forehead, a whispered “I love you so much,” was all he could receive before he was moving through the line of friends and family. In the few short hours that had passed, you had showered and changed.

When he opened the door, Jude found you standing there with your travel backpack pressed against your chest.

Jude paused to take you in, grounding himself by focusing on your familiar features. It was a routine he had built over the last six months of your relationship, a way to find solace in the midst of chaos. His eyes passed over your smooth, deep brown skin, which seemed to glow softly in the dim light. He traced the contours of your face, from your cheekbones to your lips that carried a gentle, reassuring smile. The sight of it relaxed the furrow of his brow.

Your eyes, warm and filled with understanding, were his favorite feature. They held a depth of emotion and wisdom that made him feel seen and understood. Your lashes framed them perfectly, long and curled, adding to the natural beauty that always took his breath away. His gaze traveled up to the soft curls, pineappled at the top of your head, his hand instinctively reaching forward.

As he studied you, taking in every detail—his touch tracing the curve of your jaw before settling against your cheek—he felt a sense of peace wash over him.

"Hi," you greeted softly, your voice a balm to his battered spirit.

Jude managed a weak smile, the corners of his lips lifting. "Hey," he replied, his voice rough.

You stepped inside, Jude’s hand instinctively settling on your hips as the door closed.

The scent of lavender and chamomile wafted from the bag you carried, filling the room with a calming aroma. It was a scent that lingered on the sheets of each hotel room Jude stayed in, his bedroom at home, and even in his shirts and jerseys. He associated it with you, and only you—a fragrance that instantly brought relaxation and comfort. Whenever you couldn't make it to his games, Jude would find the aromatherapy tucked away in his bag, a thoughtful gesture that made him feel close to you even when apart.

“My flight leaves at 9:30 tomorrow,” you began as you unzipped the bag. Gathering what you needed, you started towards the bathroom. “So, I’ll probably leave here at 7. I’m sure traffic is going to be insane.”

Jude listened to your voice, the calm cadence soothing his frayed nerves. You didn’t expect a response; you knew him well enough to understand that after a loss, he needed time to recover. So, you verbally went through your travel plans. The turnaround was quick, but you needed to report to work. While slightly annoying, the plan was simple: report home, get back to work, and into your routine. Jude would soon follow.

As you focused on starting the bath, Jude began to look through the items you bought. His hand paused on something small and familiar, tucked beneath his favorite snacks—a stuffed lion. He picked it up, a wave of bittersweet memories washing over him. The lion had a soft, golden mane and big, friendly eyes. Stitched into the pad of its right paw was a heart. Jude remembered the day he won it for you at the Ice Palace, the way your face had lit up with joy, your smile so wide and genuine it had made his heart swell.

"My lion," you’d giggled, hugging the plush toy tightly before wrapping your arms around his neck, your laughter ringing in his ears. “I can keep him with me when you’re away.”

You paused in the bathroom doorway, watching him hold the stuffed lion. "That always makes me feel better when we're apart," you said softly, a smile finding your lips as the shared memory hung between the two of you.

You began to take out and explain the things you had brought to cheer him up—a selection of his favorite snacks, your iPad full of movies, and some comforting toiletries. "I brought these because I thought they might help you relax. And I know how much you love Shawshank Redemption. So...being the gracious, loving girlfriend I am, I will sit through it for the hundredth time. But, only if you promise to share your sour st-"

You were mid-sentence when he moved towards you, wrapping his arms around your middle from behind. For a moment, you stayed that way, the warmth of his embrace speaking louder than words. Jude buried his face in your shoulder, his breath hitching as he tried to hold back the tears that threatened to escape.

You could feel the tremors in his body, his grip tightening as if you were his anchor in the storm of his emotions.

"It's okay," you whispered, turning to face him, the warmth of your palms against his cheeks lifting his eyes to yours. "You gave it everything you had, and that's all anyone can ask for. I'm so proud of you, Jude. You’ve come so far, and this is just a moment in your journey. It's okay to feel hurt and disappointed, but remember that you are stronger than this. Everything happens exactly when it's meant to."

Finally, the dam broke, and Jude rested against you, the tears he’d managed to keep at bay all night came pouring out. He remained pressed against you until the stress of the past few months drained his eyes dry. He allowed you to lead him to the bathroom, welcoming the warm, fragrant steam filled the room, creating a cocoon of comfort. 

He allowed you to help him undress, your movements tender and deliberate, as if you were peeling away not just his clothes but also the layers of his hurt.

"Let's get you in," you murmured softly, as his lips brushed against yours, guiding him into the tub. Jude eased himself into the warm water, letting out a deep sigh as the heat began to soothe his aching muscles and weary mind.

You stepped back to gather the other things you had brought, but Jude's hand gently traced soothing circles into your thigh as you stood by the tub. The simple touch spoke volumes, a silent plea for your presence, for you to stay close.

Jude leaned his head back, closing his eyes as he let the warmth of the bath wash over him. The exhaustion and frustration that had gripped him began to loosen, replaced by a growing sense of peace. He listened as you moved around the room, lighting a few candles and setting out the items you had brought—a fluffy towel, his favorite shampoo, and a soft robe for when he got out. 

You joined Jude in the tub, settling behind him. He welcomed the loofah against his skin, the gentle, rhythmic motion of your hands soothing his frayed nerves. You massaged his shoulders, careful with the one that had been previously injured, as he rested back against you. His hand found its place on his leg, grounding him as he watched the movie playing on the tablet propped nearby.

Your touch worked magic, and you could feel his body gradually relaxing. The tension that had coiled within him slowly unwound, and he seemed to be coming back to himself. The voice in his head, the one that echoed with doubt and personal criticism, grew quieter with each passing moment. Each gentle kiss you pressed against his skin, each laugh you shared from the film, chipped away at the walls of his frustration.

By the time most of the bubbles had dissipated, Jude was completely relaxed. His gratefulness showed in the way he gently squeezed your thigh and the soft kisses he brushed against your knuckles. The warmth of the water, combined with your presence, created a cocoon of comfort and safety. 

He tilted his head back slightly, letting it rest against your shoulder, eyes half-closed in contentment. "I don't know what I'd do without you," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper.

You smiled, fingers tracing small circles on his chest. "You don’t have to," you replied softly. "I’m here, always."

Jude sighed, a deep, contented breath that seemed to release the last of his lingering tension. He turned his head slightly to kiss your forehead, a silent thank you for being his anchor in the storm. The doubts that had plagued him earlier were now a distant memory.

The kiss he left against your lips was soft, almost sloppy. The physical and mental strain he's been under from Real Madrid and the Euros suddenly registering. His body begging for sleep.

"Let's get you outta here," you giggled. "I don't think I can carry you to bed if you fall asleep."

You press against the corner of his mouth, the action stopping the closing of his heavy eyelids. "Come on, Jude."

"Mmm...hold up..." Jude mumbled, eyes drifting shut as your lips brushed against his. Brow arching, his smirk prompting your eyes to roll. "...I'm not even tired."

"Uh-huh," stifling your giggle, you watch as Jude nods. His heavy eyes blinking before dropping down to your smile.

"'m not," he mumbled, his kiss missing your lips and settling on your chin.

A series of soft and light kiss lingered against your jaw, drifting to your shoulder. As much as he tried to fight off the comfortable sleeping tugging at him, Jude couldn't resist. By the time he reached your lips, a tired and goofy smile stretched across Jude's lips.

"Alright," he relented. "Let's go, but we gonna finish this in the morning."

"I'm sure we will," you smiled.

You place a final kiss against his lips. The brushing of your nose against his pulling out the smile that left you the victim of constant butterflies and euphoria. Before Jude knew it, the words slipped out.

"I love you," he murmured, the words hanging in the air between you like a delicate promise. "Thanks for this."

The words halted your movement of slipping from beneath him, your eyes widening slightly in surprise. It was the first time he had said it aloud. You had never pressured him for those words, knowing that he showed his love in countless other ways. Just as you did for him.

"I love you too, Jude," you replied as his lips found your forehead.

Letting his lips pass over your nose, Jude pushed himself.

[galedekarios]

thinking about how gale's love language is acts of service.

people have talked at length about how he cooks for everyone at camp.

"the hand that feeds is the hand that's loved. it'll never leave your side now."

but that's not all of it, and it's a red thread that weaves itself through almost all his interactions throughout the game.

"magic is... my life. i've been in touch with the weave for as long as I can remember. would you like to experience this?"

gale shows the protag his world, his life, trying to connect them to the weave as he had once been, when he was still a chosen, still an archmage. it's not quite the same, it doesn't come quite as easy. still.

"i'm so very glad you came. to share this with me. i know this is all unreal, but i created it for you. you must know that you're... that you're very special to me. if things were different, if we were home, i'd have taken time to do things properly. to say it all better. but time is short. i'm in love with you."

gale knew he was living on borrowed, he knew it would run out eventually, even well before elminster came to deliver mystra's instructions.

he can't give the protag something different and they aren't home and they're not going to go home at the end of this. he knows this. time that once seemed so infinite when he was young is now whittled down to a single last night.

a last night that he uses to turn a dark and cursed land into a beautiful forest, northern lights dancing across a starry sky. he can't go home, he can't take the protag home, but he can give them an illusion of the centre of his universe, with all the well-loved things in it. there's no pretention here. books strewn across the floor, across the desk. sculptures, paintings, music. a view of home. the smell of the sea breeze.

baring his heart as well his soul in the little time he still has left to use how he sees fit.

"let me show you more. when you wake, it will be back in our small, dirty, bloody patch of existence. but stay with me now. there are endless worlds out there. countless ways to declare love. infinite ways to express it. too much for one night... but we shall try."

let me show you waterdeep, let me show you my home, my universe. let me show you how it would have been, could have been, if i did have time. let me show you more. let me show you how much i love you in the one night we may have left together.

let me give my soul to you, in confidence.

"i'd actually been thinking of introducing the two of you anyway. over a sumptuous home-cooked meal, if that sounds at all to your taste? i make it to my mother's recipe."

he wants to give the protag a chance to get to know tara, the one constant in his life, the one who became his only friend, his safe haven in the storm, the one that bore witness to his greatest triumphs and most abject failures. he wants to cook for them. he wants to take them home so very badly—

and yet he knows he won't make the date.

"then have me, but have the best possible version of me. [...] think of what i offer: the vastness of eternity to explore, the weave at our fingertips... you would really prefer me as i am?"

he could be more for the protag, if they wish him to be. could be more, could be better.

without all the flaws, without all the things that make gale only who he is. the things that sometimes simply aren't enough. he could be everything that plain old gale dekarios, that even the wizarding prodigy gale of waterdeep, could never be.

[a-spes]

T H E D O G ' S F A L L - One shot.

Words count - 5,2k.

Tags & Warnings - mob boss!Natasha Romanoff x fem!Reader, angst, harm/comfort, manipulation, mentions of blood/past abuses, human trafficking.

Summary - Anyone that can beat her in a fight will earn her, and Natasha intends to be the one, working hard to get what she thinks is hers. A dog can't fight for eternity, can it?

Moodboard here.

N/A - It's the longest os I've wrote so far, took me a lot of time but it's enventually here so I really hope you'll enjoy it! If it's the case, don't hesitate to let me know by interacting with the post :)

It is at the back of that popular night club that everything is happening, where no one can see your distress except the one that enjoys it, where everyone is too busy having fun to pay attention to the veritable purpose of this building. On a dark corner that light never reaches, a man is guarding the most important secret of that place, and very few are the people he lets through; only rich and influential men and women get their ticket for this special spectacle that takes place here every night.

Down there, the loud music is replaced by the shouts of excited men that makes her sigh; why do they have to scream like animals? If she gets a few glances, no one dares to say anything as the infamous Black Widow is walking through the crowd to get to her place. She has blood on her back, people are whispering, some from admiration, others from fear, but no one stays indifferent - how could they? One of the most important mafia bosses of the city, but also one of the most discreet, is here. She has her reputation and, even if she is rarely seen, she is well-known, so none of the men dares to protest when she decides to take place in their lodge, chasing them out of the room. 

From here, she has a perfect view of the cage and, most importantly, of the Dog.

It is obvious that there is no way out of the ring, that you are trapped in that cage until one of these men’s victory - or your last breath - but, somehow, you still believe that defeating them will lead you out of that basement. So, not caring about how many of them are daring to step in your cage, you beat them, one by one. You watch the man you just defeated being escorted out of the cage so the next one could take his place - it gives you a few seconds to catch your breath. 

The world is spinning, you can’t even see the faces of your opponents, but you don’t give up. Even if the only thing you want is to curl up in the corner, crying for your mom, you can’t. You can’t because it will mean giving them your life. No, you need to be stronger than them, to pretend that you don’t feel the pain inflicted by their blows, to pretend that you are not bothered by the metallic taste of the blood in your mouth, they need to believe you could do that all night. But you are not foolish and you know damn well that you won’t last long. 

It is hard to focus on anything, even on breathing, because you are overwhelmed by a crew you can't even see, blinded by the lights; you are the spectacle. They all came to see the Dog fighting, hoping to witness its fall. They are shouting, mostly insults in Russian, whistling and clapping everytime something exciting is happening during a fight, but it won’t be enough to save you from that place. 

Oh, at first, they were cheering for you, but it slowly changed, people getting tired of seeing your pretty face every night. They thought you would be easy to break and hated to be proven wrong, and you perfectly know that the stakes have changed. It is no longer about giving them what they want, entertainment, it is purely about surviving and you noticed how the attitude of your opponents changed over the weeks, becoming more aggressive.

You were a champion, now you are just a little bitch they need to get rid of. 

The organization that threw you in that rat hole understood that as much as you did and, tonight, they changed the rules. Tonight, it'll be only you against the world, until they are tired of it. No break, no help, everytime one leaves, the next one is already stepping in the ring, as an endless torture. 

Tonight, she will be one of them. She has been looking at you hungrily since the first time she came here, and she knows that you will be hers by the end of the night, after all she came just for that, to take you home.

Even if she is here every night, you never had a chance to notice the woman. She was always sitting in the last row, observing you from her balcony, where she is hidden by the shadow, but she noticed you for sure. The time she came, it was only because of one of her associates that wanted to meet here specifically, she never left since. From the moment her eyes landed on you, she was unable to think about anything else, the way you were looking so innocent but so feroce at the same time got her heart. 

She sent a few of her best men, knowing they would lose, as a test, waiting for the moment it would be her turn to enter the cage. She never expected them to win and she would have killed them if they had the audacity to: she is the one that is supposed to defeat you, the only one that has the right to own you. The urge to possess you only grew stronger over the weeks, being deeper every time she came here, she wants to see you as you are breaking under her effect, to control every aspect of your life. 

So she patiently waited for the right time to come, she always liked a bit of challenge anyway, having a soft spot for things that are hard to get. She worked hard to get you, spending weeks observing every of your movements: she learned how you are fighting and your habits, she learned to read your body and face as if she was on your mind, and that’s the difference with the others: if you are a game for them, for her, you are a goal she must reach at all costs. 

As soon as your eyes laid on her, you knew she wouldn’t back up, somehing in the way she stepped in the cage already made all the difference. It is her confidence. It is the smirk on her face, a cocky one. It is the way her hands are stuck in her pockets while she is observing you. It is the slight sigh as she gets rid of her leather jacket. It is all these details that give the impression that she is just here to settle a formality, already certain of her victory.

Even the way she is moving has something unrealist. Every step, every look, is calculated and almost imperceptible. Usually, you would step forward, ready to fight even before they entered the cage to show them you are not afraid, but this time? You can’t help but instinctively step back when she enters. The movement was slight, as you were already leaning the grid but she noticed it, the way her aura is pressuring you, and she loves it.

As soon as the door was closed, your fate was sealed.

It all happened really fast because she knew exactly what to do, she prepared for that moment. You quickly realized that you were right: the woman had nothing in common with the men you were fighting against earlier, you never stood a chance to win that fight. The realization is more painful than the blows she is currently throwing at you. Every punch you try to land, she knows exactly how to dodge it. As if she was on your mind, she knows exactly where to hit to get you weak, stealing your breath and your strenght, having you on your knees then laying on the floor in less than a few minutes. 

At first, you tried to get up, to fight, but she is faster than you are, and wiser, and stronger, and more trained. She is being pretty much better in everything. Soon your vision is so blurry that you can’t see anything, you are feeling so weak that even moving your fingers or keeping your eyes open is just too much. 

"Stay still,” she quietly ordered when she noticed you were struggling against her grip - she had you pinned down on the ground by pressing her foot on your back and grabbed your hair to lift a bit your head. "You're going to be mine no matter what, so don't make things harder for yourself, honey." 

One. 

Two. 

Three. 

You hear the countdown but, this time, it is not your victory that is announced, it is hers. As soon as her name is shouted by the crew, her grip releases your hair but you simply don't have the strength to move, the news leaves a void in your chest. The pain, but mostly this feeling of emptiness, is keeping you frozen in place. She owns you, and this simple idea is sending shivers through your whole body. You don't realize yet what is happening, thinking that, maybe, it is just a cruel joke on you, and it explains the lack of reaction when she asks you to get up; she needs to grab your arm and lift to get you on your feet. 

You stumble, fighting the urge to vomit. Your brain can barely process what is happening, especially when you realize that your feet are not touching the ground anymore. In her arms, you are nothing more than a rag doll, silent and motionless, barely having the energy to keep your eyes open. 

"She is not for sale,” she coldly said, her voice bringing you back to reality. As she was on her way to get out of the night club, some men were offering the woman outrageous amounts of money in the hope of getting you, they all backed up once she coldly glanced at them. "No one will ever take you away from me, do you hear that, love? You are safe as long as you’re with me," she then whispered in your ears. 

You drift into unconsciousness as soon as the car starts, despite the woman that kept begging you to keep your eyes open, the way she was cadling you not helping. You just had enough time to notice the men sitting at the front of the black van, both armed and intimidating, before falling into darkness. 

You opened your eyes again when the car stopped in an alley. It is late, the sun gave its throne to the moon a long time ago and, even if you can't tell what time it is, you know it is the middle of the night. How many hours did you spend down there, fighting for your life? The question makes you sick because the only answer is too many. All these hours for nothing because, no matter how hard you triee, you loose. You were never supposed to win their twisted game, you never got a chance and you slowly realize that the promised freedom was just a lure. For weeks you believed them, you played along their rules, thinking it was the only way to get your life back.

And here you are, in the arms of your new owner, a woman you know nothing about but that now has every rights on you, even if you will live depends exclusively on the redhead's choices. The fear twists your stomach, the humiliation clenches your throat and the exhaustion makes your eyes burning, tears threatening to roll down your cheeks.

Don't cry, don't cry, don't cry, you repeat in your head, but you don't know for how long you will be able to keep your tears for yourself.  

The woman is not looking at you at all, she is concentrating on not falling as she is walking to the house, barely seeing where her feet are landing. You, however, can't help but observe every detail of her face, noticing how serious her expression is. You are trying to guess how your life is going to be by her side, but you can't, she is a complete mystery and you hate that.

A part of you wants to go back in that basement. It may have been a living hell, but you had your habits, you knew how to survive, now you will have to learn everything again. 

You notice that two armed persons are guarding the front door and, when you pass by them, they exchange a few words in Russian. You can't understand a word of what they are saying, but you guess they are greeting the woman, beside some insults, you don't know a lot and only because that's how they used to call you.

The inside of the penthouse is exactly as you imagined it: expensive, tidy and minimalist. You never felt comfortable in that kind of environment, it always reminded you that you will never have a place in that sphere, you are nothing more than their animal, a dog that does everything they want. 

Once inside, you almost expected her to drop you on the floor but she didn't. Her grip is strong, as if she doesn't want to let you go, that's because she is scared too. She exchanged a few words in Russian with a woman before heading upstairs. 

Your eyes closed because of the light, you don't see much more of the house, nor of where you are going. You can feel that she climbs the stairs, takes a few turns and walks through a door before she eventually lets you go. It is with care that she sits you on the floor of the bathroom. 

"Here we are," she whispered, "you can open your eyes, love," she added when she noticed they were still closed. If you can't see her smile, you can feel her hand brushing your cheek. 

For weeks you didn't see anything else than pitch darkness and the dimmed light of the basement where you were fighting, it is great to eventually be able to see something else. She even made sure to not turn the big light on, only a small one in the corner that diffuses a subdued light. Somehow, she knows exactly what to do to make you feel comfortable. 

"Let me help you," she said, coming closer to kneel in front of you when she realized you couldn't take your bath alone.

On the way home, she sent a message for one of her maids to run a bath for you to enjoy when you arrived. The mirrors fog up and a scent of jasmine fills the room, but even if the idea of taking a bath sounds good, you don't move. You are curled at the exact place she left you in, your knees against your chest.

You are like a dog, but nothing like a fighting one, she thought when she saw how you tried to back up when she reached for your shirt.

"I am not going to do anything," she quietly said, trying to sooth you by using a gentle tone and caressing your cheek with her thumb. "I am going to help you to get rid of those rags so you can get a bath, okay? Then, we can clean your wounds and have a good meal, does this sound good?" she asked and you slowly nodded. 

She helps you to get rid of your clothes that are closer to rags honestly as they have holes in them, the fabric being soaked in dirt, blood and sweat, sticking to your skin. You never felt so vulnerable than right now, under her serious gaze, what is she thinking about? It is impossible to guess but you can feel her eyes on your body as she looks you up and down. A quick glance which allows her to take a mental note about all your injuries.

"What are you doing?" she chuckled, when her eyes didn’t land on your chest but on your crossed arms - you were trying to hide, how cute. "How silly you are,” she whispered when noticing you didn't seem to understand what she was talking about, "thinking you can hide like that."

Her tone sounded too sweet for it to genuinely be and there is something behind her gentle tone that is rigging alarms in your head. You can't tell what it is exactly, but there is that weird feeling, your instinct screaming at you to be careful when your body just wants to give up and be in her arms, ‘cause what could go wrong?

She takes your hands to pull them away from your chest so you can’t hide from her anymore. Her grip is firm, just a little too strong so you understand that, despite her sweet smile, she won't hesitate to be harsh with you if you don’t behave. However, she still seems to be extra careful while moving you, as if you were a porcelain doll, because for nothing in the world she would hurt her fragile princess. She  slowly takes your arms away so she can give a glance at all your injuries. What she sees makes her sigh, she seems about to say something but keeps her words for herself ; you should have been more careful. 

She helped you to get in the bath and it was a nice moment, a few minutes you got for yourself because, surprisingly, she let you bathe yourself alone. Oh, she wasn’t far away, just at the other end of the room, keeping a close eye on you at every time, but dealing with something on her phone. She would occasionally comment on the way you were doing things, talking you throught it so you can shower the proper way, her way. Once you are done, she wraps you on a soft towel, bandages your wounds and gives you clothes that are hers, a hoodie and a short, and you can’t help but notice how good they are smelling, how comfortable you are feeling in these.

"Did you say something?" she genuinely asked, turning to you because she was sure she heard you mumbling a few words. 

She was talking about your life here, talking almost alone as you weren’t really talkative, but thinking she would miss the words you whisepered was a mistake because she never misses anything.

"Nothing important," you replied, but this answer doesn't seem to please the woman, something twitching in her eyes, coming from soft to sharp.

"When I ask you a question, you reply to it, am I clear?” she said, immediately leaving what she was doing to come close to you and grab your chin.  “You are not the one that gets to decide what’s important, your small brain can't handle big decisions and that's why I am here. I mean, see how it got you to be by yourself …" she continued, looking at you with disdain, as if she was thinking that it is only your fault if you ended up in that rat hole, caught in human trafficking. “I am here to give you a second chance and you better take it ‘cause it may be the last… so don't talk to me like that ever again, did I make myself clear enough?"

The only answer you are able to give her is a whining accompanied by a sniffle and she obviously doesn’t like that. Even if you tried your hardest to not let those tears rolling down your cheeks, you can’t help it, her harsh words only making things worse because you are already hating to disapoint the woman. 

"If I knew you would cry, I would've sold you ..", she sighed in annoyance, her nails digging into your skin, "I hate cry-babies, understand?" she asked, but it wasn’t not a question: it was a warning. "The fighter I saw in that ring must be here when I am back," she coldly added before releasing the pressure she was exerting on your face.

She leaves, slamming the door shut so you easily understand that she is upset with you reacting that way. She has done everything she could in order to help you to be comfortable here : she gave you a bath and clothes, cleaned your wounds, promised you a meal and a bed, even gave you comfort but it still doesn't seem to be enough because you were crying as if she was some sort of monster, and she can't bear that vision. She tried to repeat to herself that you are just tired, that things are going to get better with time but it doesn’t calm her down. Whether you want it or not, she will make sure that, one way or another, you will accept her and she won't hesitate to use the hard way if she has to. 

When she comes back, she notices that didn't move an inch, scared by what the woman could say and impressed by the bedroom. But it didn’t prevent your eyes from wandering around the room. It is really minimalist, there is nothing that could give you a hint about the person she is, everything is exactly where it should be, not a speck of dust and no personal objects. It feels like a hotel room more than hers.

When you hear the door, your gaze settles on the woman. Your knees are bent against your chest as if it could protect you from all the dangers of the world. She probably left you for only five minutes, but they felt like hours. Your thoughts had time to run while waiting for her : what about trying to escape? But it never worked, it’s always a dead end, a path to regrets because they always find you, making sure you won’t even think about doing it again and, if they do not find you, it's someone else. You learned that there is no escape and gave up on going back to your old life a long time ago. It is not even the fear of the armed men that is keeping you here, it's the void in you when you think about what you would do if you were free again, nothing. Nothing because you forgot how to live on your own. So you didn't move, not even a finger because she didn't ask you to do it, only being a dog that lives for its masters' will.

But what piques your curiosity is more the tray in her hands than anything else. As soon as she enters the room, closing the door behind her with her foot, a pleasant smell spreads through the room. You can see many things on the tray she brought back : a glass of water, some pills, a bowl of steaming soup with bread and a plate with rice, vegetables and chicken. When was the last time you ate a real meal? Long enough for you to not remember what it was.

"Eat." she said as she put the tray on your knees.

It smells good. That's the first thought that crossed your mind when you saw the plate. For a moment, you forget about the past hours; when was the last time you got a real meal? You can't remember, not even a fragment of a memory. 

You would eat what your owners give you, eat quickly before they come back, never knowing what you are eating nor when the next meal would be; you learned to not ask too many questions. At first, it was difficult to accept such a fate: you would refuse to even taste the food they were giving to you, but it didn't last long. Eventually, you started to eat - inhale - anything you were given without thinking twice about it.

Tonight, for the first time in years, you are going to eat something else than the leftovers of someone you don't even know. Tonight, you won't have to be scared about your food being stolen. Tonight, you can even see the smoke, a sign that your meal is still hot, freshly cooked and maybe homemade.

"I-," you started, but she didn't let you finish your sentence, your lips barely had time to move that she already cut you, leaving no place for an argument.

I am not hungry, you were about to say, and she somehow knew it. She also knew it was a lie, your stomach has been painfully twisted because of that sick feeling for days, but the knot is also caused by your fears. 

It all feels a bit too perfect. It feels like a trap, a way to encourage you to let your guard down only to break you after, making the fall harder. Some did that in the past, why not her? She doesn't look less cruel than the others. Yet, when she is talking, she seems more genuine, you could believe her when she says she only wants what's best for you, that she cares, she just has a twisted way to show it. 

"Yes, you are, so eat, now," she ordered you with such a cold tone that you don't dare to argue. There are all these warnings she doesn't say out loud but you can read in her eyes: just do whatever I tell you, pretty girl, they say. 

And, for sure, you don't want to face the consequences of your insubordination. So you slowly take the fork, not glancing away for one second, your eyes into hers. You are looking at every detail of her expression as if it would change, telling you that it is a trap, except it doesn't and her expression stays stern. It is impossible to read anything on her face, not even a hint of how she is feeling.

You take the first bit, carefully swallowing and… nothing happens. You don't feel weird, it doesn't taste bad and she doesn't snap at you for a small imaginary mistake you would have made. It is the complete opposite. The food is really good, melting on your tongue, and you start to eat quickly, not because you have to, but because you want to. For the first time in years, eating is a pleasure. 

She sighed when she noticed that you were inhaling your food, but she didn't say anything; she will have all the time later to change that habit of you. So she just stood there for a few seconds, observing you in silence, with her arms crossed, before sitting next to you - that's when you broke eye contact, once she was sure you would eat everything. 

As you are eating, she is barely paying attention to you, at least that's the impression she is giving. One of her arms wrapped around your shoulder, her hand is absently drawing circles on your skin while she is on her phone, dealing with something serious - you can hear her frustrated sighs from time to time.

Except she sees everything and your mistake was to not be careful enough around the woman. A little because of your clumsiness, mainly because of how fast you were eating, you dropped a bit of your food on the floor. You didn't think it was a big deal, picking it up to put it back on the plate. Three seconds rules, dropped on a clean floor, you don't have very high standards anyway - but she does. She turned to you the moment she felt you were moving, a curious, but disgusted, look on her face.

"What are you doing?" She asked, her hand grabbing your wrist before you could drop the bit of food on your plate. She moves your hand on the side of the tray, far from your plate, before you even get a chance to reply. "Drop it," she ordered to you, "that's gross, hope you weren't going to eat that." 

You shake your head, too scared to do anything else, but she knows you are lying; of course you were about to eat it. You spent the past years living like a fighting dog, you would eat anything she would give you, you might even eat directly from the dirty floor if she asked you to. She winces in disgust, not letting your hand go.

"Give me that," she snarled and you can feel how her grip tightened on your wrist to force you to give the fork away.

She then takes the tray that was in front of you to put it on her side of the bed, you are looking at her, scared she would definitely take your meal away. You are about to protest when she notices it and glances at you, daring you to say a word, you don't. 

"Come here," she said, gesturing you to come closer, she even grabbed your arm to guide you when she noticed you were hesitant to move.

She sits you between her legs and you are clearly uncomfortable, wiggling, but if she notices it, she doesn't seem to care. She is so close to you that you can feel her breath tickling your skin, but she keeps acting like nothing is weird here. When she leans to cut your food, you can feel her chest pressing against your back, the contact making your heart races. Too focused on how close you are to the woman, you barely noticed when she approached the fork from your mouth, waiting for you to open. It takes one more second for you to understand what she is waiting for and, when you do, you blush in embarrassment. She takes advantage of you opening your mouth to say something to feed you, and you don't dare to push her away. 

"Can't even eat alone, hm?" she whispered in your ear while you were chewing the bit of food she just gave you, "but that's fine, I am here now," she added, and there is something in her tone that makes you shiver.

Once she made sure you ate everything, she wrapped her arms around you, laying a kiss on your temple. It is strange how safe you are feeling in her embrace: for a few seconds you forget she is the one that beat you earlier. Right now, she is just someone that cares for you, with whom you feel at peace. You can't remember the last time someone made you feel that way, you can barely remember your life before entering the human trafficking circuit.

You don’t really know when you fell asleep, but your eyes were quick to close under the effects of her fingers running on your hair and of her voice whispering sweet words in your ears. At some point, a maid came to take the empty tray away and the woman layed the both of you in the bed, under the covers, trying her best to not wake you up. This night, you slept in a comfy bed, feeling protected in the arms of the woman despite the things she did, not even thinking one second about pushing away her hands that found their way under your sweatshirt, resting on your stomach. 

The Dog fell right into the Black Widow’s web.

[wint3r-h3art]

The (un)Invited | Vampire!Miguel O’Hara

Summary: Your new and mysterious next-door neighbor turns out to be more than you think he is.

WC: 4.5K

Warnings: Contains horror & dark themes like dub-con and blood. Predator/prey play, possessive behavior, biting, oral sex (female receiving), breeding kink, vaginal fingering & vaginal sex.

18+ ONLY | MINORS DO NO INTERACT

A/N: The first entry of my Carpe Noctum event for the month of October! Special shout out to @galatially for beta reading this. thank you so much for your amazing feedback, and you may have planted some ideas for a possible part 2 🤣

***Do not repost, copy, or translate my works anywhere else. Please support by commenting/reblogging. Banner by @cafekitsune

Petrichor permeated the air as the last breath of the sun fled the sky, drenching heaven with inky blackness. The rain had just stopped after many days of brutal heat waves, soaking every dry crevice with a new sense of life. 

Miguel crouched down on the large branch of the tree, balancing his large body with just the ball of his feet. His crimson eyes burned like candlelight in the silent darkness; the air felt sticky and heavy with a hint of sweetness.

With his eyes closed, he could hear the rushing of footsteps, running and trudging atop the wet, muddy forest floor. Miguel licked his lips tentatively, revealing his sharp, pearly canines. He ran his tongue over his fangs as thirst traced its cold fingertips along his spine. The familiar ache radiated from the base of his throat. His gum was aching and throbbing as the sweet scent filled his lungs. Saliva flooded his mouth at the prospect of his sinking his teeth into the sweet, warm flesh. He imagined what it would feel like to have that blood gushed into his mouth, satiating that ache and filling him with nothing but that sticky, sweet crimson liquid. 

He had tasted you before—the salty sweetness lingered on his tongue and felt like a stimulant upon his senses. Soft and warm–like the way the sunlight kissed upon his skin many centuries ago. It was like a punishment and a salvation for him–blurring the fine line between his hunger and want. He knew then and there that he got to have you. 

A deep, guttural growl emitted from deep within his chest at the thought of spending his eternity with you. A small yelp followed by a soft thud pulled him from his reverie. 

You were so naive and so trusting, inviting him into your apartment without a single thought in mind. He knew from the very beginning about the attraction you felt for him. Your eyes told him everything he needed. The magnetic pull you felt at that moment your gaze landed on him was instantaneous and strong. Every molecule in your body yearned for him–it was all built-in for a creature such as himself. He was meant to tempt, to lure and to trap his prey where he wanted them. 

From exchanging glances  when you invited him into your apartment for coffee to the way his voice would drop an octave or two lower when you converse with him–hell, even the way he smelled, they were all meant to trap you in his web. 

Two weeks to gain your trust and two weeks to get you to need him–to want him so much that you would go crazy. He knew from the moment his lips touched yours that it would be an end game. It was unlike any hunger he had ever felt before. He swore he almost moaned out loud when his lips molded over yours in a slow, sensuous kiss. His large palm trailed to the nape of your neck, holding you there in place as his tongue twisted and flicked with yours. It took every ounce of his control then and there to not fully initiate the mating ritual because as much as he had the upper hand, he wanted you to want him–to crave him to the point where you beg for him. 

Falling for him was easy when Miguel was so intune to your every need, whether it was in the bedroom or not. You were a little bit suspicious of course when he only wanted to spend time with you after the sun went down, but that little voice that was in the back of your mind was weaker than what your heart desired. It wasn’t as if he was hiding you–hell, he took you to places you’ve never dreamt of going, yet…it felt off.

You have never seen him work nor go out–hell, you weren’t trying to spy on him. You were curious. He always stayed in during the daytime, all cooped up in his apartment and not answering your text. He always made it up though with lavish gifts and attention that you never dreamt was being given to a man as attractive as Miguel was. Looking back now, you felt a pang of regret for trusting him this much.

You didn’t even bother protesting when he invited you to spend the long weekend with him at a cabin he claimed his family owned in the woods. Any sane person would have asked him more questions, especially when you only knew him for a month. With your cockdrunk brain thought, it only took a little convincing from him to get you to where he wanted you: secluded from prying eyes.

His true nature fully came out when he had you under him on the couch. He was more impatient than usual, and you only thought that it was because he was needy from not seeing you for the past three days, but something was off about him.

He was rougher than usual. Every time he grabbed your thighs and pulled you toward him, he wasn’t being careful digging his nail into your skin. There was a sense of urgency in the way he kissed you. He would let his teeth graze the delicate skin of your lips, and at times it felt like he did it intentionally to break the skin open. His tongue would then lick over that same spot, and you swore you could taste the faint salty, metallic taste on his tongue when he plunged it down your throat.

But all it took was a glimpse into his bloodlust eyes. 

Somehow, underneath the amber light, his eyes seemed to glow blood red as he was kissing the space between your breasts. You were, of course, stuck in a haze when his mouth did such a sinful thing to you–licking and kissing his way down your body while his large palm covered your soft mound. There was no hesitation of course when you let out a  terrifying scream as you tried to scurry out from beneath him, but Miguel had you in a grip. And from the way your scent changes, he knows that you have figured him out. 

Miguel slowly sat up as he gazed down at you. A thin trail of crimson liquid ran down his chin. His tongue darted out to lick the traces of your blood, flashing you a small glimpse of his fangs.

You were delirious and frantic at this point. You could feel a surge of adrenaline coursing through you as every cell in your body told you to run.

“What the fuck are you?” 

Miguel didn’t miss the way your voice trembled as you took a step back, hand clutching whatever article of clothes you had. He also couldn’t ignore the way your heart surged, beating so hard against your ribcage as if it was about to burst through your chest cavity. He also couldn’t deny the intoxicated smell of your blood that was pumping through your veins either. His gum ached just from the desire to sink his teeth into your skin while he fuck you deeply. He had never wanted anyone in his life before–hell, he had never wanted to mate with anyone this much in all of his existence. The thought of feeding you while he bred you was driving him mad.

“You know the answer to that already, love. Do you want me to spell it out for you?”

Miguel took a step towards you, and you retreated. In the confinement of the cabin, his stature appeared larger inside the cabin. He could have easily snapped you in half if he wanted, but that was far from it.

He was right. You knew exactly what he was. Your brain could piece together the little clue. The red glowing eyes, the sharp fangs, and those talon-like nails–you knew exactly what he was.

“A-Are you going to kill me?” 

Miguel laughed in reply, and you took another step backward. He knew you would want to run, and that only made this little thing a little more fun for him. 

“Hmm…originally,” he replied pensively as he ran his claws through his messy, brown hair, letting some traces of your blood coated his strands. It was true. His original intention was to devour you, but for some reason, the more time he spent with you, the more he craved you in a way that feeding you would satisfy him.

“But you turned out to be far, far better than a one-time meal for me. You see, I was searching for someone that I could spend the rest of my eternity with. I’ve never thought that I would find someone as perfect as you are, but by hell…” He chuckled as if he couldn’t believe that someone like you could be real. 

“You were so eager to have my affection and so eager to be with me. Not to mention how fucking perfect you are for me. Your scent–every time you came, the smell of your blood felt like some sort of stimulant to me…like a drug that somehow I can’t get enough of, so I gotta have you, sweetheart. All we need to do is perform the mating ritual, and we shall spend the rest of our eternity together.”

“You’re insane,” you managed to utter the words out. “You are fucking insane…you did all this just to make me into some sort of your little pet for you to feed on.”

Miguel chuckled again. “Hmm, I mean a nicer term would be my mate. A great deal if you ask me because the alternative will be me draining you dry until you are nothing more than skin and bones. And if it wasn’t me, there are others that are far worse than I.”

“You’re insane,” you sobbed as your back was now flushed against the cabin door.

“Hmm, am I? I thought you wanted me. You said that the last time we made love, did you not.”

You gasped out loud as you remembered that one night that he had stayed over. It was the middle of your fucking of course. You were clearly under the influence of lust to even think straight. 

“You clearly said you wanted to be mine. You said that I can take you, and here I am, taking you up on that offer.”

His smile slowly turned sickly sweet. You were horrified of him of course. 

“Please let me go,” you pleaded with your hands behind your back, trying to slowly turn the door knob. Miguel knew of course, but he had been a patient man. He could play along a bit more. It wasn’t like you can run far.

“Hmmm, why would I do that when I have spent so much time getting to know you?”

“Please?” you begged again, this time you knew that once you got him distracted you could bolt right out.

“No.”

You swallowed as you watched him, making sure that you could catch him off guard, and you bolted right out the door.

You ran like hell. The icy cold wind bit through your skin, as your legs burned. It wasn’t ideal to run with your bare feet, but you didn’t have a choice. You didn’t even bother to look back to see if he followed you or not. 

Miguel leaped from one tree branch to another, eyes and ears pin-pointed to your location. Even at the slightest movement within his property, he could hear you. It wasn’t like you could run far, he thought to himself as he breathed in your lingering scent again. Miguel licked his lips as if the smell had invigorated him or something.

There was no time, you thought again. You have to run, you told yourself when suddenly your foot got caught by the mud and toppled you over with a soft thud. You yelped out in surprise as pain shot out from your ankle.

“Fuck, fuck fuck…” you mumbled in between your breath as you tried to pull yourself out of this predicament. Your clothes are stained with mud and dead leaves. The smell of dead vegetation filled your nostrils.

“This can’t be happening,” you sobbed as you dragged yourself forward, crawling atop the muddy forest floor. Every moment was slow as you struggled. Tears soaked your face as you heard faint footsteps following you not too far behind, stalking, observing. You didn’t dare to look. You just knew who it was, and you didn’t dare to think of anything else other than to escape.

You could barely hear what he was saying in Spanish when your heart was beating so hard against your chest. It was almost deafening by the way you were practically hyperventilating as panic set it. You didn’t want him to catch you, but damn your stupid ankle, and damn your stupid self for believing his lies. You should have known that this was too good to be true. No good men in their right mind wanted you. The thought only made you sob harder because hell, you really believed him.

You were at the point of exhaustion as Miguel continued to observe you not too far behind when hands were in his pocket. It was a pitiful sight indeed, but you were too damn stubborn, and he somehow had to teach you a lesson or two first. 

“Are you done?” Miguel asked, kneeling next to you. Of course, you instinctively flinched away from him and didn’t answer, but he chose to ignore that. 

“Look at what you’ve done to yourself…we could have been civilized, you know,” he said as he slid his arms underneath you and picked you up. You felt his smell enamored you as he pressed close to his chest. Why did he has to smell so fucking good all the damn time?

“You wanted to kill me,” you said in between hiccups of your sob.

“No–now, you are just being unreasonable. I wanted you—not to kill you. I want to have you, there’s two different things, sweetheart.”

“The same frickin thing,” you said in between your sobs. “I’ll end up dead regardless.”

Miguel didn’t say anything. He simply and quickly made his way back into his cabin and headed straight to the bathroom. You watched him carefully as he placed you on your feet. He turned on the shower to the warm setting and waited until the water came to the temperature.

“What are you doing?” you asked. You realized your voice was hoarse now from all the crying and screaming.

“Cleaning you…do you want to stay in these muddy, wet clothes?” His dark brows quirked as he looked at you with his crimson gaze. 

“Stop pretending like you care about me when I am nothing more than your meal.”

Miguel let out an exasperated sigh. “Oh, but you are not,” he reassured you again as he crouched down until he was at your eye level. His deft fingers worked quickly with your tops and pants. “I’ve told you before, I want to have you.”

“The same fucking thing!” 

Miguel huffed as his anger boiled over. He suddenly grabbed you by the nape of your neck, forcing you to look at him. There was no denying that he was furious. 

“If you’re going to treat me like a fucking monster, I’ll show you a monster.”

With that, his mouth crashed into yours with a ferocity that was unlike anything you ever felt. His hard body pressed against yours almost too much. His arm snaked around your waist, constricting you. You could feel his fangs scraping your skin every now and then. His tongue plunged into your mouth, licking and sucking at your tongue.

Miguel was relentless in his quest to break you–to mold you into his perfect bride. Long had his search been to find the perfect person, and long had he been, enduring years of loneliness and drowning himself in the sea of bloodlust. But now, he found you, and he won’t stop until you become his.

He grabbed you by the ass and hoisted you up. He brought you under the hot water, your back pressed against the cool wall as his lips trailed down to your neck. You could feel his tongue licking along the column of your neck. Miguel would press his sharp fangs against your neck enough to elicit a whimper out of you, but not enough to pierce your skin just yet.

“Tell me you want me,” he said, his voice vibrating against your neck as you shudder in his arms. You could feel his cock pressed against your stomach. “Beg me to fuck you and fill you.”

You whimpered, unable to vocalize or rationalize anything.

On one hand, you wanted him. In such a short period of time, you felt like you found the one person that want you without judgment, on the other hand, he lied to you–hell, he was a fucking vampire. 

Miguel groaned as he slowly ground his hips against your bare core. His large palm squeezed at your ass cheek firmly before slapping it. 

“Say it!” 

The growling sent chills down your spine as you let out a somewhat incoherent whimper.

You were practically sobbing in his arms as he nibbled against your skin. You were clearly scared and helpless, and Miguel could tell by the way the sickly sweet scent filled the bathroom. He had no desire to force you, but your insistence on insulting and running away from him made him this way.

Taking a deep breath, he stopped and simply stood there with you in his arms, allowing the hot water to wash dirt and grime off you. He had to tell himself that you needed time to process all of these. But time wasn’t the luxury he had right now. The mating needed to be tonight. He cannot endure another full moon without you.

After a long moment of calming himself, he finally spoke with his forehead pressed against yours. His crimson eyes were no longer glowing. 

“I have no desire to spend eternity with you resenting me, so I will give you a choice of coming to me willingly. ”

“The alternative?” you croaked. “What if I don’t want to change?”

“You know the answer to that,” he said somberly as he put you down. “Clean up and don’t you fucking dare think about running again.”

*****

You finished showering and limped out of the bathroom to find Migule sitting at the edge of the bed, his eyes never faltering from you as you slowly approached him. You noticed that he was holding a pouch of blood in one hand, which was already half empty. His lips stained a deep shade of red, glistening with the liquid that he was drinking. Fear traced its way down your spine.

Miguel noticed your concerned expression and spoke. “I’m trying to feed myself so I don’t take too much from you.”

“That’s very considerate of you,” you mumbled with arms crossed over your naked chest.  

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Miguel said. His warm smoky scent filled the room. The air felt so thick that you felt like you were choking on it. He held out a hand–an open invitation for you to take.

“Eternity is a long time,” you said softly. “I’m not sure if I can do that.”

Miguel closed his palm around yours and pulled you in until you were straddling him. His forehead pressed against yours again. You could feel his sickly, sweet breath brushing against your skin as you stared at him. “You’ll figure it out. I’ll make sure you see my reasons.”

With that, his lips closed against yours. This time he was gentle and slow and deliberate. It felt like the Miguel that you came to know–perhaps the visage that he had put on to make you fall for him. He trailed one hand up and down your spine, while the other held you firmly in place. 

His tongue swept across your lips, then along your jawline. Licking and tasting every inch of your skin. You were practically breathless at this point as your body felt weaker against his barrage upon your senses. 

“Tell me you want me,” he mumbled against your breast. His low, baritone voice sent a tremor straight through you as his crimson eyes watched you. “Beg me to take you.”

“P-please take me…” you said in a haze as your lashes fluttered from the wet sensation of his mouth against your breast.

He grunted and bit down slightly on your right breast. A small gush of your blood flooded his mouth as he drank you in. Every inch of his body felt like it was set ablaze as the sweet taste of your blood coated his tongue. He felt his cock hardened as every part of him filled with nothing but you. 

It should have hurt, but your fucked up brain was far too gone. Instead of pain, you felt pleasure as your pussy felt like it was gushing out even more slick.

“Fuck,” he growled as his tongue darted out to lick the small puncture wound on your soft mound. “I’m going to fuck you so good, baby. I’m going to drink you, fill you, and breed you until you’re filled with nothing but me.”

You whined as he had you on your back. His large body hovered over yours. You were practically delirious at this point. Miguel still licked his lips, savoring the way your blood still lingered on them. It took everything in him to not initiate the ritual then. He wanted to enjoy you as a mortal first, taking his time a bit before changing you.

Miguel licked two of his long, thick fingers, wetting them first before he brought it down to your nether lips. His fingers brushed against the fold, allowing your wetness to coat them before he plunged them right into your soppy pussy.

Your body jolted instantly as he was knuckled deep inside you. The soft, squelching sound filled the room as he pumped his digits in and out with intent. Miguel’s thumb pressed and swiped against your clit, bringing you raw pleasure. Your body responded in such a way that you didn’t understand. You were practically grounding your hips against his arms, fucking yourself on his fingers needily. 

“Miguel…” you moaned, but he didn’t verbally respond. Instead, he bent his head down and licked the same spot where he had drank from you. 

He suddenly added a third finger and he suddenly sped up his movement while his mouth was around your stiff nipple. Pleasure bombarded your senses. 

You moaned out his name again. 

“You like that, hmmm?”

You nodded frantically. “Yes, yes, yes,” you chanted under your breath as you watched him with a hazy gaze. 

“Hmmm,” he said before withdrawing his fingers from you. A protesting whine left your lips, but you soon found yourself gasping again when he swiftly moved down. His mouth was practically devouring your pussy. His tongue pressed and toyed with your clit while his vice-like grip held you in place. 

A deep rumbling noise emitted from his chest and vibrated straight through your pussy. Your clit was throbbing to your frantic heartbeat. Your pussy clenched and unclenched at the emptiness you wish he would fill you with. It was like a never-ending hell as he tore you apart and put you back together simultaneously. And it wasn’t long when you came with a strangled cry.

Miguel continued to plunge his tongue into your needy hole, lapping at your essence. You could feel his sharp fangs traced against the skin of your inner thigh. And without a thought he sank his teeth into your flesh once again, drinking you slowly. It was like a burst of adrenaline shot through his veins as your sweet taste coursed through his body. As if his cock weren’t hard already, whatever the fuck your blood was doing to him was like some sort of drug that made him mad.

“I’m going to fuck you so good, baby,” he mumbled as he moved to kneel between your legs. A trail of thick blood ran down his chin as he looked at you. He was wild, terrified, and hot all at once, and you felt your reservation slowly slipping.

His arms slid between under thighs, lifting them over his forearms as his body moved closer so that his knees were now close to your chest. He adjusted his hips and pressed the fat tip of his cock against your wet entrance. His crimson eyes never tore away from you. 

Miguel slowly pressed forward, entering you with a slow and precise movement. Your eyes closed as he stretched you out deliciously, filling you with that long, thick cock. You could barely have your eyes opened as he began to move, driving himself into you with a ferocity that you’ve never experienced before. 

Miguel was dangerous alright–not in the way that he was a vampire, but by the way he knew how to make you feel far too damn good. He was your heaven and hell wrapped up into one.

He sank deeper, lowering his weight until you felt like you couldn't take anymore. Every thrust made you breathless. You could feel his balls slapped against your ass every time he slammed into you, making you moan louder. 

The smell of smoky, sweet scent filled your nostrils as he dipped his head and pressed his lips against your neck. You could feel his every grunt reverberating through you from the effort of his movement alone. 

That familiar warmth ran down his spine and straight through his balls. He knew he was close, and by the way your pussy was clenching around him, he knew you were close too. 

Without a thought, he sank his teeth into you and drank you in as he continued to fuck you. Rapture tore through you with a newfound sensation, unlike anything you felt before. Your body felt like it was floating as coldness seeped through you. 

And then an intense, salty coppery taste coated your tongue, filling you and drowning you with it. You realize that Miguel no longer moved as he allowed you to drink from his wrist. His blood filled you, choking you until the darkness took you over.

He sat there, watching as your body lay limp. Anxiety filled him as he waited. Perhaps he took too much, or perhaps he didn’t give you enough.

A faint thud pulled Miguel out of his thoughts. And then Another, and another.  

Miguel watched pensively as you slowly opened your eyes. His lips stretched into a smile.

“Welcome to your new life, my love.”

[dreamofjoys]

𝙄 𝙒𝘼𝙉𝙉𝘼 𝙓𝙓𝙓𝙓𝙓𝙓 ！

♡ A/N: Hello to everyone! I am excited to announce that I will be participating in kinktober 2023! This is my second time participating, so Im quite excited for it. There's a lot for me to write so I seek your understanding that I might not post them on the day itself (school is starting mid october eek but I will try and get it done). Last year's kinktober was focused solely on twisted wonderland but this year there will be other fandoms as well, and it will also be more plot focused? Hopefully that makes it more interesting. Only posting on some days

♡ Brief C/W: Dark themes, kidnapping, drugging, dubcon, pregnancy, double penetration, stalking and many more (will update as it goes by but will state in more details at the start of each fic). Everything is strictly character x fem/afab readers only

♡ General rules: Minors DO NOT INTERACT, No mean or rude comments (why read when I already stated the warnings and synopsis?Just block if don't like or uncomfy) and lastly, DO NOT ASK FOR PART 2.

♡ Participating fandoms: Genshin Impact (Neuvilette, Wriothlesley, Zhongli, Ayato, Alhaitham), Honkai Star Rail (Luo Cha, Jing Yuan, Blade, Nanook, Dan Heng, Dan Feng), Twisted Wonderland (Malleus Draconia, Lilia Vanrouge, Leona Kingscholar)

♡ P/S: Everything is subjected to changes! Some fics are still in progress of brainstorming.. you can try to req and I'll see if I want to take up the idea. Just putting out the masterlist early to test and see how things go. Might make some changes here and there but it honestly just depends on my situation and mood. Also teasing you guys and adding some sneak peaks lol (I genuinely hope it's good) You can literally guess who will be in the fic base on the title. Will only open taglist if there's a demand.

DREAMOFJOYS KINKTOBER 2023 COLLECTION

DAY 1-7 ; 7 minute in heaven? More like 7 days inside you!

— Characters involved: Malleus draconia(TWST), Wriothlesly(Genshin), Ayato(Genshin), Nanook(HSR), Luo Cha(HSR) — Synopsis: After getting officially married, you and your husband decided to finally go to your long awaited 7 days honeymoon in a resort at private island specially reserved by your husband! Those 7 days were meant to be fun and relaxing, but why are you so tired by the end of it? — Story parts: 1 / 2 /3 / 4 / 5 / 6 / 7

Day 9-11 ; The Demons of Xianzhou

— Characters involved: Jing Yuan, Blade, Dan Feng (HSR) — Synopsis: There has been a legend of demons existing and residing in Xianzhou for a long period of time. Surely, they can't be one of your closest friends, right?

Day 13-15 ; In the name of Justice

— Characters involved: Neuvilette, Wriothelesly (Genshin) — Synopsis: Two of the most well known men in fontaine has fallen head over heels for you. They claim that everything that they do is for the sake of justice

Day 18-19 ; Egg Incubator

— Characters involved: ? — Synopsis: A young maiden was chosen by her village and was sacrificed as an offering to appease the 5 dragon gods who were terrorizing their land. She plots to escape from them, but can she really succeed?

Day 20 ; The General's Slave

— Characters involved: ? — Synopsis: ?

Day 23-24 ; The Princes's Sin

— Characters involved: ? — Synopsis: ?

Day 25 ; The Acting Grand Sage's Filthy Secret

— Characters involved: ? — Synopsis: ?

Day 26 ; The Destruction of Nanook

— Characters involved: ? — Synopsis: ?

Day 29-31 ; Briar Valley's Eternal Ruler

— Characters involved: ? — Synopsis: ?

[je-suis-applebread]

Wait do the beasts still want their souljams back? Since I see that PV and White Lily are in the au-

I was just wondering if the beasts have tension between the ancients but this also brings up the question of if the other ancients visit as well

mostly text post (that took quite some time)

so, where do i start... beasts-ancients relationships under the cut (there's a lot)

Beasts don't try to get soul jams anymore. They know, that once they get their hands on at least one, they would get grounded once again faster than they can say "world domination" - even though they don't know if Witches are the same they used to be or not, they know cookies would still be able to bury them alive at that tree, so isn't worth it.

But not that they even want to try that again. They've already lost once, what is there to repeat? They are kinda content with what they have now. And I find two of them a special case, actually.

Eternal Sugar and Silent Salt. After everything I came up with, I've found something special about them, something that especially noticeable in "what if eldad faerie died" reactions - Eternal Sugar wants them to be happy, Silent Salt tries to be there for them. They get closer to what their ideals were once. Maybe they're not Happiness and Solidarity per se, but sometimes they just feel like that. Of course, they're not gonna take respective soul jams to become whole again, neither do they have some special synergies with their Ancients, it's just a detail I really like.

Anyway, to relationships we go.

Mystic Flour:

- Dark Cacao: Dark Cacao HATES her for what had transpired during her chapter and - hey, can you really blame him for his feelings?? He just never wants to see her ever again (he'll have to on purelily's wedding, poor soul), he does not know what he will do if he sees her for too long. — She doesn't give a fuck about it or him.

- Pure Vanilla: she doesn't interact with him all too much, however he is terrified by what he heard from Dark Cacao. So he maybe wishes he won't stumble upon her. — She, once again, doesn't give a fuck.

- Hollyberry: she would like to call Mystic Flour out on feeling something because no way she believes Mystic Flour really apathethic to everything. — That's annoying to Mystic Flour, otherwise she also doesn't give a fuck

- Golden Cheese: they forbid her from starting fights because the first thing she did when found out about her doings from Dark Cacao, she started looking for her to at least punch her. She was held back physically, which did not stop her from shouting insults. — Mystic Flour was watching it with her annoyed face, mostly irritated by noise also not fully understanding why Golden Cheese reacts almost harsher than Dark Cacao when it wasn't even her kingdom, why would she feel something that strong when it didn't include her. If Golden Cheese is surprisingly in Faerie Kingdom, she locks herself up so she would not have to listen to her screams for another half an hour.

- White Lily: she really doesn't believe Mystic Flour is okay in any way though. Of course every Beast has their "oof lmao", but everyone is maybe slowly but surely come to senses and Mystic Flour... White Lily knows she must give a fuck about at least something, even if she is "Apathy". So she is mostly worried about her and her attitude. Also hearing about her deeds made White Lily once again think of her doings as Dark Enchantress, so she became quite quiet for a while (and Silent Salt was another quiet one, but tried to be a comforting presence). — Mystic Flour... She doesn't give a fuck to even try to not to give a fuck. Like, with others is mostly "ignore them", but with Lily she doesn't even acknowledge ignoring her

Shadow Milk:

- Pure Vanilla: after all the troubles, he really didn't want to believe a word of his and maybe possibly evade him. But being there with White Lily, he kinda got to know new Shadow Milk - mischievous and still very emotional, but otherwise mostly harmless. Sometimes he wonders if this is some grand deceit of his but then this silly boy hides behind him because he just annoyed Mystic Flour to point of giving a fuck and, well, it doesn't seem that likely. He is not fully comfortable with being around him - at first he wasn't comfortable with Shadow Milk at general, but after he got used to him it was because he didn't really want to be his hiding wall or involuntary coparticipant of his jokes and stuff. — And we all know what Shadow Milk feels about him. For him, Pure Vanilla is absolute bestie, he never let's this poor innocent guy go, for him he's that rat/mouse he picked up and said "youre my bestie now"

- Hollyberry: she kinda likes his energetic and funloving attitude. She gets that he shouldn't be trusted, but hanging around him is never boring for her. She trusts her friends that if Shadow Milk would start deceiving her, they would notice and get her back, so she's kinda chill about him. — He also finds her quite interesting, especially her stories. Especially dragon ones. And maybe she kinda internally compares him and Pitaya because under overall opinions, they're good companions.

- Dark Cacao: he can tolerate him, which already is times better than with Mystic Flour. Not very much aside from this though - Shadow Milk being cookie of Deceit is already a massive con for him, and his personality overall is kinda annoying for Dark Cacao. He can stay in the same room as him, but he's gonna grumble or leave it if Shadow Milk tries to communicate with him with no actual reason or pull some shenanigans of his. — As for Shadow Milk, Dark Cacao kinda reminds him of Silent Salt and a little of Mystic Flour, so bro can't stop himself from annoying this guy. Overall he's fine, but nothing really special standing out.

- Golden Cheese: she's wary of him, she's all like "I'm not letting you mess with my head". She's all ready for hitting him should the need come. Shadow Milk actually finds kinda amusing the fact that she was deceiving herself about her kingdom's fate. — He would like to mess with her about it or at least stir some talk that way but she never lets him.

- White Lily: she was a bit tense about him in the beginning, but slowly started to find his personality kinda amusing. His shenanigans were making her smile when she was sure of nothing, when her thoughts were trying to get her. She could see his obvious attachment to Elder Faerie what raised her trust towards him even more. — Shadow Milk, considering her closeness to Elder Faerie, kinda treats her like some kind of sister. Out of the Beasts, he knows how haunted she is by her past the most. If he was to cheer her up, she would think of it as a lie, so he mostly distracts her from thinking or gets Pure Vanilla's attention to her

Eternal Sugar:

- Hollyberry: drinking buddies. Okay, let's elaborate, she wasn't really trusting her at the beginning, but Eternal Sugar let her understand, that she has no harm in mind as of now. One time White Lily mentioned that Eternal Sugar makes really good wine and then Hollyberry accepted next drinking together suggestion. She slowly started warming up to her and really enjoys their drinking sessions. — Eternal Sugar actually first suggested drinking together right after her defeat. She basically said like, hey would you like to drink with me? i want to cheer over your victory. And of course Hollyberry was surprised aaand of course she was suspicious. But Eternal Sugar didn't stop after that rejection – after all, she knows that Hollyberry likes drinking, so that means they both like drinking the most out there so why not take her in drinking buddies and possibly just buddies down the line, with the way they giggle after first half of drinking session.

- Pure Vanilla: he likes to see how happy White Lily is to chat with her. He gets that Eternal Sugar is, like, mostly harmless when she has no motivation to commit atrocities, so he's actually very fine with interacting with her. He finds it pleasant to talk with her when they're together. — Eternal Sugar finds him cute in terms of personality. Also sis is main purelily supporter in this household, she finds him very good for White Lily.

- Dark Cacao: she doesn't really worry him. He isn't enthusiastic to communicate with her but if she tries to sometimes he entertains it. She's the most chill out of them and Dark Cacao gets it – like, he's not gonna trust Beasts, at least anytime soon, but he's kinda okay with her. — Eternal Sugar can't help herself but think of Silent Salt whenever she sees Dark Cacao, she actually suspects that just like Silent Salt, Dark Cacao also is a "softie"© inside, that's her main theory.

- Golden Cheese: the only Beast she is okay with. Golden Cheese actually finds her wings kinda cool, and maybe she sometimes pouts because Eternal Sugar doesn't agree to flying race. — Eternal Sugar is not a fan of races or such but she totally can't drop the topic of wing care. She had been asking Golden Cheese if she was doing anything with her wings and gave some of her wing care tips in return (and Golden Cheese had actually tried out a few)

- White Lily: she was invited on girls night by Eternal Sugar after a few visits to Beast-Yeast. She didn't really know what to expect, but it turned out just a girls night with her, Eternal Sugar and Mystic Flour. Like, of course, Mystic Flour was in her "i don't give a fuck", but White Lily and Eternal Sugar actually had quite some fun, spending the night by meaningless gossips and different hairstyles (they even made one for Mystic Flour). — Eternal Sugar just adores White Lily. Like, she was kinda intrigued when she met her for the first time, but the she started gradually realising that she wants to befriend her and so she did. Her bestie is Burning Spice, but White Lily is very close second, she's not even second, she's first and a half.

Burning Spice:

- Golden Cheese: Golden Cheese is tense and kinda down around him. Tense because of what he had been doing about soul jam stuff and down because he embodies destruction, he reminds her of her loss just by being there. She kinda tries to play neutrality or still being irritated about soil jam stiff around him, she mostly tries o leave whenever they're in the same place. — Burning Spice actually feels kinda bad because he had distressed an already traumatized person even more. He would like to somehow make up for that, but he can't really get a chance to do so.

- Pure Vanilla: he finds Burning Spice quite sincere person. Like, of course Burning Spice still gets into troubles and creates destruction, but most of the time it happens out of accidents, which makes Pure Vanilla calm about him. He's not malicious since the end of all the soul jam mess, and he finds him a fun person. Way too active to tag along, but fine to have an occasional chat with. — Burning Spice thinks he's a bit frail actually, not in the bad way. Like, if Pure Vanilla would get exhausted around him he would totally carry him (not that he wouldn't for others, but it's even more for Pure Vanilla). He kinda likes to ask him about Crispia, how the world is there.

- Hollyberry: she kinda finds their personalities a bit matching. Like, she had found him quite fine all the way almost in beginning when he crashed in something and was very embarrassed about destruction he caused. She suggested having a spar the very next time they saw each other (of course under supervision but he didn't mind), so she really likes running around with him when she visits. — Burning Spice also likes spending time with her. He actually was surprised to see so much power in such a cookie but oh he's all in for it. Especially after stories about dragons (which may have made him being happy as a little kid whenever he wins a long spar/forest race or something else against her)

- Dark Cacao: he actually gets skeptical half the times Burning Spice gets into another destructive accident but doesn't push on it looking at his friends. He is kinda tense about him, but actually his active yet sincere personality sometimes reminds him of Crunchy Chip and so sometimes he gets lost in fond thoughts around him. — Burning Spice finds him kinda grumpy but also thinks he has his reasons to be that way. He doesn't really try to communicate with Dark Cacao most of the time, knowing he would most likely be turned down or ignored, judging by his personality.

- White Lily: she gets worried about Burning Spice each time he crashes into something or something like that happens again. Burning Spice spends quite some time with Eternal Sugar, so she finds him being her good friend just like Eternal Sugar. — Burning Spice can't think of her any way except as a friend or kinda sister, but mostly friend. He likes chatting with her and Eternal Sugar, sometimes he even participates in their girl nights (and those nights they totally paint their nails(do cookies have those though...? ...does it matter though??)).

Silent Salt:

- White Lily: she was kinda tense and a bit afraid of him in the beginning but slowly she was finding him more and more reliable and just kinda misunderstood. So she stopped worrying about him looking all intimidating and tried to know him closer. She realised he is actually very reliable and the most responsible out of Beasts, so she actually started sticking around him sometimes. — He knows she wanted best and then it turned out into disaster, so she totally wants to comfort her (and possibly relates). He sometimes gets quite worried thinking of what would somebody who don't know her think of her knowing truth about Dark Enchantress(especially worried when he sees the way Golden Cheese still can't get okay with it), also he really wants her to kinda separate Dark Enchantress and herself in her head. She's here and that person is out there.

- Pure Vanilla: at first he was tense as well, but then noticed that Silent Salt does something questionable only when something happens that really clashes with his morals. After he got to know him a bit closer, he started to understand his company. Not really enjoy it, it's kinda uncomfortable for him, but he understood while others were finding it comforting. — Silent Salt is positively surprised that such an actually pure cookie exists in such a world. He respects Pure Vanilla for his personality and morals, for the way he does not waver in his ways and wishes he would stay this way as long as this world would allow him to.

- Hollyberry: she finds his presence kinda unnerving especially with him being that silent so she tries to not interact more than needed. — Silent Salt just thinks their personalities are way too different, no way to actually connect with her. She does not try to do so and so he follows this tactic.

- Dark Cacao: he finds their similarities being kinda unnerving. Since Silent Salt is, well, silent, he had been thinking they would not really communicate, but they kinda got some non-verbal communication in actions, body language and in case of Dark Cacao, eyes. So he got that they both are just worried about ones they care for and can go for great lengths to protect what they have. But otherwise he really doesn't initiate any other contact. — Silent Salt kinda sees through him because of their similarities and he thinks Dark Cacao should get better before it gets worse for everyone. If anything serious would ever happen, he is sure they would both jump to action the very same moment and possibly cooperate way too well.

- Golden Cheese: she's not gonna become unnerved because of him, but she really has no reason to stay around him with him never talking, so if she has nothing to do she mostly leaves if they happen to be in the same room. — Silent Salt, once again, finds it worrying, how she reacts to White Lily. He finds himself wanting to get them through it but he knows he can't make Golden Cheese just change her mind. Otherwise, he doesn't really has a special opinion on her since they communicate as much as him and Hollyberry – that is, they almost do not.

Phew, I think got everything. That took quite some time but I got through it yaay

[archiveikemen]

All of aikm's Liam Evans Content: A Compilation 🐈

+ Links to Official YouTube Videos ft. Liam

These are fan-made translations solely for entertainment purposes with no guaranteed perfection; expect mistakes, grammatical errors, and some creative liberties. All original content and media used belongs to Cybird. Please support the game by buying their stories and playing their games. Reblogs appreciated.

Read this before interacting

This is a very much self indulgent compilation post I put together because I love Liam more than I love anyone else and I'm making that my whole personality. I know some of the stories are already out on EN and the rest will eventually be, but that's not going to stop me.

► Character Profile

► Pre-Registration Short Character Reveal Video

► 1st Anniversary Special PV

Main Story

► Main Story PV (w/ William & Harrison)

► Main Story Route Walkthrough

► Main Story Route Preview

► Main Story Route Translation

Story Events

► Wrapped in Wicked Romance Story Event

Chapter 1┊Chapter 2┊Bitter END

Premium END┊Epilogue

► Black Wedding (EN: Underneath the Black Veil)

Chapter 1┊Chapter 2┊Bitter END

Premium END┊Epilogue

► Villain Wants To Bother The Little Robin

Liam Evans & Harrison Gray 95K LP Bonus Story

► His Cherished Doll

Event Limited Item Set Letter

► Villains' Night

Special Short Story

► No Room To Breathe

Chapter 1┊Chapter 2┊Bitter END

Premium END┊Epilogue

► Drowning in A Lustful Night (Aphrodisiac Event)

[ not comfortable translating ]

► The Fairytale Keeper's Final Asessment [ WIP ]

Chapter 1┊Chapter 2┊Premium END┊Epilogue

Collection Events

▻ Secret in Your Heart

▻ Doting LoveHolic (EN: Obsession Devotion)

▻ All Because Of A Slight Fever

▻ I Want To Know Every Inch Of You

▻ Mirror, Mirror [ WIP ]

▻ Secret Countdown (Early Clear Bonus)

▻ Villains' Festival (2024 Elections)

▻ Get Drunk, Get Me Drunk, Drown [ WIP ]

▻ The True Vow to The Pitch Black Bride

▻ The Past Records: Roger & Alfons — Liam CG

Birthday Stories

1st Birthday Campaign Story (2023) + Letter

2nd Birthday Campaign Story (2024) + Epilogue

2nd Birthday Campaign Voiced Letter [ WIP ]

Story Sale / Item Set

The Villain's Relentless Love

2023 Christmas Message from Liam

Tamed By The Villain in The Dark

Bond Stories

Miscellaneous

Vicpedia: The Victor Encyclopaedia

Bad Guys Collab Interview (w/ Ike Bakumatsu Takechi)

Standard Cars Gacha Summon Screen Voice Lines

Love Letter Replies (Twitter Campaign)

Promising Eternal Evil to The Villain (LINE Special)

Liam's Home Screen Lines (Ongoing Updates)

Vogel's Extremely Indulgent Time-Killing: Liam

[lets-go-hurt-someone]

I love Shadowheart. She was my bae throughout my first (unfinished) Tav run. I abandoned that run because Astarion convinced me I needed to restart as Durge for him, but Shadowheart forever holds a very special place in my… well, heart.

I’ve been thinking about the contrast between them and their arcs and the way fandom interacts with them.

They both start off as characters that by D&D standards are “evil.” Shar is an evil aligned goddess, and vampires are evil aligned creatures.

However, Shadowheart isn’t evil. She disapproves of actively evil decisions and approves of kindness to animals and the helpless. She just doesn’t like it if you seem to be putting do-goodery above your search for a cure to the tadpoles. She is fine with killing the grove, but the contrast between her at the tiefling party and the goblin party shows pretty starkly how she really feels.

Astarion starts off the game evil. I will fucking fight anyone on this. He has very very good reasons to be evil, but so does Shadowheart… and she’s not. Astarion enjoys chaos, he likes murder, he likes hurting people. He thinks being “good” is weak and stupid and that might be a trauma response, but it is how he genuinely feels at that point in his story.

And yet. AND YET. For some reason, I have never seen anyone complain about making Shadowheart a Dark Justiciar. If she likes you, you actually have to encourage her to kill Nightsong. Even on my evil run, she spared Aylin if I didn’t tell her not to. You have to either not care about her or intervene to make her evil, and right up to the end where she kills her parents and Shar wipes her memory again, she is just so miserable and resigned to what she’s been influenced to be.

But people do it to get the hotter sex scene or whatever and that’s fine.

But Astarion? The man who spends the whole fucking game begging you to help him take over an evil cult and murder his “family” so he can become a living vampire as soon as he realises it might be an option? The guy who will throw a fit and leave you if you don’t either succeed in a persuasion check or help him eternally damn 7007 people— no matter how close you’ve gotten to him?

Apparently you’re an evil piece of shit if you find his “bad” ending compelling or, dare I say it, hot.

I don’t really care which ending you prefer for either character— I think the game does a great job on its own telling you what you should think and it’s fairly nuanced for both characters. I just don’t understand why Astarion has to be so woobified and his “bad” ending fans vilified as if they’re naive morons with no media literacy.

Shadowheart, the character, hates her “bad” ending way more than Astarion, the character, hates his. And fandom can’t reflect this because I don’t know…

Oh god. It’s sexism isn’t it?

[communistkenobi]

Wrt your posting about the jedi taking on children, I disagree thst the argument about force sensitive people 'need' to be trained for everyone else's safety. It's like Dragon Age mages or BNHA quirks, it's not special if someone can fireball me if they're having a bad day, some random person can already beat or strangle me with just their own two hands in the real world, no fireball necessary.

I mean idk I feel like Star Wars does a fairly decent job of establishing how dangerous force sensitivity can be - it’s not just extra strength or throwing things, but also mind control, healing (which i know is rare tbf), communicating with animals, etc. It also establishes how scary it can be to have those sorts of powers without knowing how to deal with them. I think Rebels does a good job of exploring this kind of thing with Kanan and Ezra.

However I also agree with you that it doesn’t “need” to be a problem, like force users are not inherently doomed to darkness/violence unless trained eternally across all space and time. But I think force sensitivity introduces a wholly organic way to accrue power (both physically in the sense that you’re more powerful and socially in that you have a type of organic ‘capital’ that can be used to gain social and political power in society, either because people adore you and want to follow you, and/or because they fear you), and having that type of power isn’t dependent on class position or family history*, it’s essentially random chance if someone is force sensitive or not. Which creates a threat to the types of societies depicted in Star Wars where there are durable ruling classes who want to maintain power.

And I think the Jedi Order offers a solution to this problem by capturing that type of ‘organic capital’ for lack of a better term; you monopolise an institution responsible for moulding force sensitive people into a particular type of subject - one that is not a threat to the prevailing societal order - and in exchange for being forced to be a Jedi you get massive amounts of privilege via access to knowledge, social status, material needs, and so on. While this creates civil unrest and distrust of the Jedi from a lot of laypeople, it’s a pretty sweet deal in the eyes of the Republic if it means not having to deal with rival force sensitive groups using their power to make political demands, especially through violence.

I think looking at it this way explains why the Jedi don’t really accept or allow any other type of force user, especially as they become more enmeshed with the Republic (the coven in the acolyte is a good example, the dathomiri witches, etc), and why a lot of force users who are not Jedi are labelled Sith, either because they adopt that label themselves or because they’re labelled that by the Jedi. And I’m not saying “the sith are just misunderstood victims” or whatever, but that in a scenario where you have a very powerful monastic order that controls how the rest of society understands and interacts with force sensitivity, force users who fall outside of that are going to be treated as a criminal class who are a threat to the republic (because they are - Maul is treated this way, Dooku and Anakin quite literally topple the Republic, etc). So like in the settings Star Wars tends to play in, force sensitivity is narratively understood as a source of incredible potential power, and capturing that power via an institution like the Order makes sure that power potential is not disruptive to prevailing society and power interests. Which is why I think the Jedi do have a fairly good rationale for taking kids and training them, even if that rationale is tied to the maintenance of the status quo - the Order’s power depends upon the maintenance of their own monopoly

*KIND OF. obviously some of the canon loves doing blood lineages with palpatine and shit, the midichlorian thing, etc. which sucks so bad. But general canon consensus as far as I know appears to be that anyone can potentially be force sensitive

[odyssean-flower]

Yandere Neuvillette + Phantom of the Opera

I posted about this a while ago

Don't have any plans to write a full fic about this in the near future. feel free to take these ideas and expand on them if you like (credit me first tho)

warning: it's very long and rambly. i really should work on that

neuvillette is one of the last remaining dragons, if not the only, in the world. his kind has long been hunted into extinction by humans. he can keep a mostly human form, but he can't hide his tail, his slitted pupils, or his horns, so going outside is out of the question

neuvillette spends his days beneath the opera house (which is built on the water of course), surrounded by ancient ruins and other sea creatures as his only company.

neuvillette is a brilliant man with the most beautiful voice anyone has ever heard, but because he is who he is, he can never show these skills, or be appreciated for them

even though he's pretty much immortal, neuvillette feels like he's already dead, with nothing to look forward to but an eternity alone

he has the powers to bring the opera house down (and possibly the world), but doesn't because...what's the point? what good will that do?

so neuvillette is resigned to his fate, until...you show up

you are a new member of the chorus, innocent and naive with big dreams of one day having a lead role. your voice is nothing special, but you keep practicing

progress is slow. it feels like you're in a rut. you feel like you'll always be in the background. no one understands your feelings, and you're told to be content with your position

one day, neuvillette hears you practice and is entranced. even though your voice was unpolished, it contained a lot of emotion and passion--things that had long become foreign to him. he sneaks a peek at you from a hole in the wall just in time to see you stop and break down crying after you went off key. you tearfully wonder out loud if you should just give up singing

that alarms neuvillette. once he heard you sing, it's as though he became addicted. hearing your voice was like seeing the sunlight for the first time after being in the darkness for ages. he needs more

he decides to politely introduce himself as the "angel of music" and offers to teach you how to sing. after you get over your initial shock of some random disembodied voice talking to you, you agree enthusiastically. have i mentioned that you are very innocent and naive

and so your private lessons begin. at first you were somewhat apprehensive about this, but your "angel" is so kind and patient, and such a good teacher, that your doubts are quickly dispelled. you can feel yourself improving drastically in a short time

meanwhile, neuvillette finds himself falling in love/becoming attached to you. he knows that he shouldn't be interacting with you, that you will probably be afraid of him and reject him like everyone else, but he impatiently looks forward to your private lessons every day. he likes to hear you talk about your life (he himself is less forthcoming about his own life), he likes how much you respect and idolize him, he feels like you two are kindred spirits

you would occasionally ask to see him in person, but he always declines, fearing your rejection. he becomes tempted as you spend more time together. what if...you'll accept him as he is?

a few months later, you audition for the lead role in a new opera and stuns everyone with your angelic voice. you receive a standing ovation when you finish your first performance. there's a new opera star in town now

neuvillette knows he should be happy for you, but seeing you being showered with attention and gifts from people who (in his view) have more sinister and impure intentions than simply admiring your voice sparks a jealous rage within him and a deep sadness that he can't court you like they can. he'll be forced to watch you shine from the darkness, and eventually you'll leave him

you notice that your angel has been speaking to you less frequently, which makes you sad. you had come to see him as your guardian angel, the one person you could confess all your hopes and fears to. you've got plenty of friends and admirers now, but they're not the same

eventually, you beg to see him, apologizing to him (though you don't know why). he finally obliges to take you down to his realm (insert "phantom of the opera" here) (actually i might try to write this scene)

you are amazed by the beauty of this underwater realm, and even more so by the beauty of your "angel". his draconic features didn't frighten or put you off at all. you fondly remember your favorite childhood stories about the hydro dragons, and how sad you were when your parents told you that they were all dead

neuvillette is hopeful. will you stay down here with him? you are reluctant and return to the surface.

as your fame grows, the waters around the opera house become unsettled and stormy. waves crash against the building. the opera house starts to get flooded very quickly

just as the staff plans to evacuate, your "angel" speaks to you again. he sounds very different this time, though. he tells you that this is all his doing, and that you can put a stop to it by giving yourself in marriage to him (he already has the wedding dress and everything). Would you be so cruel as to leave your friends and coworkers to their deaths? Neuvillette know what you will choose. your soul is as familiar to him as the waters he resides in

[arachnixe]

Kinship

I peer through the glass into the holding chamber. The specimen within paces aimlessly, without purpose or direction, interacting with nothing inside.

“What’s wrong with it?” I ask.

“She’s been restless and agitated like this since we separated her from the others.”

I glance over at my partner. “‘She,’ huh?”

He shrugs, looking self-conscious. “I mean, look at her. She looks like a woman, doesn’t she?” He gestures vaguely into the chamber. “Or like she used to be one. We’re working on saving her, making her a person again anyway, right?”

I suppose we are trying to save it, but I certainly can’t think of this thing as a person the way it is now. Especially so utterly directionless with its connection severed to the rest of its Swarm.

It is a pretty thing, though, I must admit, vaguely person-shaped as it is.

Its skin—or carapace, rather, rigid and chitinous—is a lovely jade green, its limbs elegant and many-jointed.

The dark, hair-like structures on the top of its head are similarly striking. They’re probably some kind of setae; I’ll want to collect a sample for study.

It looks right at me through the glass, and I exhale softly in an involuntary expression of wonder. Its multifaceted eyes—two perfectly cut rubies of immaculate shine and impossible depth—grip me with something like longing until, an eternity later, it resumes its pacing.

“Doctor Klein? You catch that?” My partner interrupts my momentary lapse of concentration.

“Hm? Oh yes, remarkable eyes. I should document the observation.”

“Er, no. I was reminding you that I will not be staying to join you on your overnight observation.”

“Right. The wedding. Good luck on that. Or congratulations? I’m never sure what to say about these things.”

He laughs, clapping me on the shoulder. I flinch at the unexpected touch and hope my tight-lipped smile reads as genuine.

I breathe a sigh of relief when he leaves.

“Maybe I am the opposite of you,” I confide to the creature through glass. “You barely function without the company of your kind, and I barely function while in the company of mine.”

I settle down and get to work. “Perhaps with just the two of us, we’ll make good progress.”

I review my notes. When it was captured, the creature was observed to be patient, intelligent, and confident. It threatened several researchers and nearly escaped a half-dozen times before it could be brought to this facility.

And then it abruptly stopped trying.

We predicted some kind of reaction, of course. This facility had been specially constructed to isolate those inside from the—still poorly understood—mental connection between members of the Swarm.

We expected it to show signs of agitation, but not this…listless melancholy.

Its behavior remains unchanged as the hours pass, even as I try various forms of stimulation. It acknowledges nothing, not even recordings of others of its kind. Its eyes focus on nothing in particular, with only one occasional exception.

It watches me observe it sometimes.

I visit the glass-walled room with a fresh mug of coffee, and I catch it looking at me again. I move, and its eyes follow.

Yes, I manage to be a figure of interest even when nothing else is. Because I am the only other living thing in here, perhaps?

I approach the speak-through grill and attempt to open communication.

“Hello, my name is Dr. Klein.”

I did not think this through and find myself at a loss without a script. “Can you even understand me?”

It stares at me, unanswering. I fidget with my skirt uncomfortably.

There is something so compelling in its eyes. Though it does not emote like a person, it somehow projects a sense of deep sadness and longing.

“You’re lonely, aren’t you?” The insight strikes me with the force of lightning. I can practically feel its loneliness myself.

Why do I feel like I understand this creature better than my own family or coworkers? Their moods could be inscrutable, but I read this creature’s melancholy as plain as day.

I press my hand to the glass, and to my surprise, it approaches the window to mirror the gesture.

To hell with the study protocols. I want to understand these creatures, and this is the furthest anyone has gotten.

I override the security on the holding chamber and enter, hoping to reinforce whatever this tenuous connection is. I am more determined than ever to save it.

“Does this help?” I ask. “There’s no Swarm here, I know, but I’m here with you, and I’m on your side.”

One step at a time, it closes the distance to me. It moves slowly, as if to avoid startling me. The whole time, its beautiful eyes stare into mine.

Soon it’s inches away.

So close, I cannot help but acknowledge to myself that it is the most beautiful thing I have ever seen. I am utterly entranced by it.

When it reaches its hand-like appendage to my face, I lean into the touch.

So smooth. Cool to the touch. Oddly sweet and comforting.

The affection I feel for this thing surprises me, but I do not care to debate myself about the validity of those feelings.

I probably should interrogate my willingness, however, when it pulls my lips to its mouth in a kiss.

The taste is sweet, like honey. Its tongue is almost human, though alien ridges and protrusions along the sides tickle my own tongue in novel and exciting ways.

It pulls away. The experience leaves me feeling gently fuzzy headed and with a welcome euphoria.

The creature opens its mouth to speak at last. “You save me?”

I recognize, somehow, that it pulled the thought—and maybe even the words themselves—from my mind. Something about that kiss…

I nod. “Of course. That’s the most important thing. May I exit the room?”

It permits me to leave.

I do not bother to reactivate the security.

What I need is fresh air to clear my head, I decide. I make my way through the facility toward the exit, flashing my badge to the overnight guards at the checkpoints.

I need to think clearly if I am to come up with a way to save this creature. And I will save it in a way that is kinder than my partner intends.

No, he would force it to be a person again. That’s a cruelty I’ve had to live my whole life with, and I now know of another way.

The lock cycles. As I take my first step outside, the fuzziness in my head clears. It focuses into distant chatter, into light and life and song and…

The Swarm floods my mind. The sudden connection nearly drops me to my knees, but I maintain my outward composure.

Knowledge, thought, and desire floods me in a way that nearly overwhelms.

The feeling of connection and belonging is so beautiful, I nearly cry.

I don’t. A precious member of the Swarm is still held captive.

With our combined knowledge, we make a plan to save it.

[kaledya]

When were Constantine and Charlie born?

How many languages do both of them understand?

Why did Lucifer forbid Constantin from learning souls magic?

How is Lucifer and Lilith's relationship like (i mean, give me an example of how they interact with each other?

And finally...why didn't they have children sooner? Or what made them want children?

Love your art and your AU, i really am looking forward to it, and I don't care if you are not a good writer, I need a full fanfic for Sinner's Symphony

1.

Constantine was born in 1812

and Charlie was born in 1818.

2. Both Constantine and Charlie know a spell that allows them to understand all human languages, but without this spell they can speak the angelic language, the demonic language. Constantine speaks Latin, Italian, Spanish, Scandinavian and Japanese.

Charlie learned Japanese and Italian because it interested her.

3. They are kind of like Gomez and Mortica, Lucifer was the first person to treat Lilith with respect, and they became very close friends after spending time together in the garden, and then they became friends, and they both made each other very happy, and then they fell in love, and after the fall they became each other's confidant and the most trusted person, because they were the only light they could find in that dark prison. They ruled their kingdom together and ruled together and ruled equally. And for 10,000 years they have had a marriage based on respect and love and they still love each other.

4. Lilith and Lucifer wanted children after establishing their kingdom, not because they wanted a future heir, they were both almost immortal, but because they wanted to start a family, they wanted to create a light in this eternal dark prison, but it was not that easy.

The reason they had children after 9,000 years was because Lilith kept miscarrying.

‘’there is a reason why Constantine and Charlie were born almost nine thousand years later. lilith and lucifer tried many things but lilith's blood was corrupted after she became a sinner lucifer's blood was pure because he was one of the 7 angels even though he fell

(in my AU also angel blood is like acid for demons it burns them directly) so the baby died before it was born. lucifer and lilith searched for centuries to find a solution and finally they came up with a solution (this idea is still a wip so I'm not sure) 

if during lilith's pregnancy maybe both of them would transfer some of their life energy to the baby continuously maybe the baby would be able to hold on to life maybe that way the two bloods would balance and even though. 

this would weaken them a lot during this 9 month period they took this risk and it worked. That's why they shouldn't exist, their blood should kill them but it doesn't. In fact it makes them stronger, in a way they are an anomaly. 

''someone who shouldn't exist, who shouldn't be alive. but look what fate has done, I'm in front of you, upright and standing. and God only knows what I'm capable of.-''

I'm still thinking about how Constantine and Charlie have blood. I want to think about a special blood for them.maybe orange ıdk’’

---

I am very happy to hear that you like my drawings! I am also very happy to hear that you want to read my AU fanfic!

[tvccreator]

Shadow Milk Cookie Headcanons

I've been working on a few stories with Shadow Milk, so I thought I would compile some of my headcanons to share with you all. Hope you enjoy! (It's a bit of a long read, so I apologize. ^^')

Personality:

Shadow Milk is a massive theatre nerd and poetry buff. He constantly makes theatre metaphors and will sometimes be caught quoting famous poets and plays.

He's dramatic as all hell. Shadow Milk thrives on being the center of attention and gets insanely jealous if cookies aren't paying attention to him. He'll often create havoc with his puppets just to get someone to notice him.

Shadow Milk's emotions tend to jump wildly between extremes if he gets worked up. He can easily go from calm and collected to raging psychopath in the span of milliseconds.

He loves to terrorize cookies. If he believes that he can get a reaction from you, you'll quickly find yourself being targeted by the Beast of Deception and his mind games.

His greatest weakness is his pride. He's completely egotistical and sees himself as above other cookies, especially due to his status as one of the five Beast Cookies. Flattery and praise will immediately distract him from what he's doing, and he's a sucker for discussing literature and theatre with anyone who approaches him asking for advice.

Shadow Milk is a naturally baked storyteller, and it shows especially when he's interacting with children. He can easily entertain children for hours on end if need be, and he'll even team up with Eternal Sugar to lull the rowdier children into sleep. (Although you really shouldn't have your kids near Shadow Milk in the first place.)

He's extremely stubborn. While not necessarily the leader of the Beast Cookies, the other four can't tell Shadow Milk what to do or when to do something... with a slight exception.

Eternal Sugar is the only cookie Shadow Milk will listen to, but even then, she only really ever tells him to calm down when he's going on a rampage.

On rare occasions, Shadow Milk will lock himself away in a private space and spend hours simply writing poetry or creating new screenplays. If you haven't heard from Shadow Milk for over thirty minutes, he's most likely working on a project. However, do not disturb Shadow Milk under any circumstances when he's writing. Whenever he gets interrupted, he has a 90% chance of losing his train of thought and will immediately attack the person who interrupted him.

In Battle:

Either a Bomber-type or a Ranger-type, in the Middle position. He specializes in hitting multiple times and in quick succession. While he's not all that strong physically, he makes up for it with his speed and stamina.

Since Shadow Milk used to be the Virtue of Knowledge before his corruption, he is insanely smart on the battlefield. He doesn't like going into battle personally, though, instead opting to sit on the sidelines and relying on strategy and his own silver tongue rather than brute-forcing it (like Burning Spice.)

Shadow Milk will try to use his power to send the entire battlefield into darkness. After all, it's a lot easier to lie to other cookies if they can't see the truth.

If he's rendered desperate enough, Shadow Milk will join the battle himself. However, if he does, consider yourself crumbled. He's not known as a Beast Cookie for nothing; his strength, speed, endurance, and stamina are inhumanely (un-cookie-ly?) high thanks to his former power as a Virtue, and once he enters the battlefield, Shadow Milk won't hesitate to drop all of his lies in favor of bashing cookies' heads in with his staff.

If he's fighting alongside the other Beast Cookies, he tends to tag-team with either Eternal Sugar or Burning Spice. When he's with Eternal Sugar, he uses his powers of deception to get cookies to lower their guard so Eternal Sugar can ambush them. When Shadow Milk and Burning Spice team up, Shadow Milk uses his reality-warping abilities to manipulate the landscape for Burning Spice to cause as much destruction as possible.

[margaretoakgrove]

Volunteer soldier

Warning: the imagine contains mentions of blood, death and physical violence.

That was a late night hour, and Heisenberg still kept working underground of his factory.

This situation wasn't something special. Quite the contrary. Being fully immersed in the process of his work, the Lord rather often tended to lose track of time, completely forgetting about rest and sleep.

But that night in the factory he was not the only one who did not close his eyes. You didn't sleep either. No, insomnia was not the cause of that, just from time to time there were days when you prefered going to bed far more later than you usually did. In the kitchen you put the kettle on the stove to boil water for tea and made some sandwiches with butter and fruit jam in order for Heisenberg and you could have a little snack.

When the water in the kettle finally boiled you turned off the gas and headed towards the elevator to go down to the factory lowest floor and call the Lord to the table.

The way to the workshop where the engineer worked the most you knew as well as the back of your hand because you had repeatedly brought there for him a mug of his favorite strong coffee and something to eat, therefore once you found yourself on the lowest level, which greeted you with its eternal semi-darkness and the continuous loud sounds of various industrial machines, you unmistakably went to its direction.

Quickly having reached a familiar door, you slightly knocked a couple of times and, without waiting for a response, poked your head into the room.

"Karl? Are you still in here?"

The man, whom the question was addressed to, was standing in the center of the working space next to the chair on which in an inactive state was sitting one of his numerous undead creations, namely a mechanical soldier.

"Yes, Buttercup. I'm still in here." Heisenberg turned towards your voice.

"It's pretty late. Were you working? Did i distract you?"

"Not at all. Actually, i've finished working around a half an hour ago. Just talking to Boian*, that's all."

What? Did you not mishear? Was the Lord talking to someone? Did he have a guest in the factory or maybe he was chatting with some person on the telephone? One needs to say that these words of your beloved rather surprised you because as far as you knew that aside of the forced communication with the members of his so called family he had never interacted with anyone of the local villagers for the reason of their ardent devotion to Mother Miranda.

"Talking to whom?"

Noticing the confusion on your face, Heisenberg smiled a bit.

"To Boian. I mean this creation of mine over here." With his hand he pointed to the side of that same aforementioned soldier. "His name was Boian before he became another addition of my army."

"Did you know this man?" Slowly you came into the workshop and quietly sat on a stool.

"Yes, i did. Not personally, of course. I knew him the same way i know everyone in this shithole. From a distance, so to speak."

Having taken another stool, the Lord sat across from you. From his leather hip bag he pulled out a cuban cigar and, having flicked with a lighter, started leisurely smoking.

"During his lifetime Boian was married. He and his wife lived in a small wooden cabin and grew in their small humble garden vegetables and berries. As far as i know they never had kids, however it didn't interfere with their marital happiness. It looked like they truly loved one another because they literally were an inseparable couple. Each time when i came to the village about my business, i saw them together. I noticed them together attending masses in the chapel, roaming around the village arm in arm and working in their garden. All in all, Boian and his wife were the most ordinary people and led the most ordinary life. And just like any brainwashed sheep in Miranda's flock they firmly believed that this goddamn bitch was capable of protecting them from any sort of danger and desease. Yeah, sure. But unfortunately, this blind belief of theirs eventually played a cruel joke on them."

"What happened?" The story of the soldier's fate genuinely caught your interest.

"After some time when i again appeared in the village for the first time i didn't see Boian's wife beside him. That was quite unusual because, as i already said, they were always together, literally inseparable. And all the subsequent times when i met him, he was alone without his devoted spouse. It made me assume that she either got sick to the point she wasn't even able to get out of bed or simply died. And, as i found out later, my assumptions turned out to be true."

Before continuing to tell his story Heisenberg paused a little bit, taking several deep puffs of his cigar.

"One night i made my way to the Forbidden Woods, specifically to the Stronghold. Shit...Still catch myself thinking that it was not a mere coincidence. As if that night i had to be there. Anyway...The closer i came to the building, the clearer i heard the aggressive roaring of lycans and male screams of pain. Once i was inside my eyes fell on a cornered by a large pack of lycans man. He was sitting on the ground with his back against the wall and trying to defend himself from them with a flaming torch, swining it in front of himself. Without a second thought i crushed with my hammer the skull of a lycan just at that moment when it was going to strike its prey with a mace. All the rest immediately ran in different directions. Damn cowards. I decided to come closer to the man and to my surprise recognized Boian in him. As it turned out, he was injured. Someone of the lycans managed to stab a pickaxe in his chest. The poor fellow was sitting in a pool of his own blood and slowly dying. I couldn't help him. Still i was too curious to know what or, maybe, who brought him to one of the most dangerous areas of the village and got even more closer to him..."

"Well, well, well. Who do we have here? Oh, it seems to me that i know you. You are Boian, aren't you? Yes, that's right. It's you. I recognized you." Like a huge mountain the hammer wielding Lord was towering over the victim of the lycans' deadly attack. "What the hell are you doing here? I thought that every local from old to young remembered that one needs to steer clear of this, to say the least, unkind place. Or did your memory betray you, hm?"

"Lies...It's...It's all lies..." The bleeding man by the name Boian, heavily breathing, was hardly pronouncing the words. "Miranda...She...She's not our protector...For her...we...we are nothing but disposable lab rats for her sick experiments...She...She's fooled us all..."

Karl did not expect to hear such an answer. He was just amazed. Did someone of Miranda's obedient puppets finally somehow discover all the truth about what a hellspawn she really was and about all those brutal atrocities she actually had been doing with people in these mountains in secrecy from the outside world for many decades straight? Incredible! Realizing that he was no longer the only one whose mind wasn't enslaved by the Black God's devious prophet for the first time in a while Heisenberg felt genuine joy combined with slight disappointment due to the fact that exactly that same enlightened one right now was dying in front of him, choking on his own thick blood.

"Too bad you understood that too late."

"M-Maria...My wife...My precious beloved wife...She became seriously ill...No one and nothing could help her...Miranda...Miranda was our last hope...I...I begged her to help Maria to become...to become well again...Miranda promised to cure her and...and took her away...That...That was the last moment...the last moment when i saw my wife alive...After...After that day...she...she didn't come back home anymore, and...and i began to suspect that...that Miranda...Miranda did something terrible to her..."

A bloody cough escaped Boian's deeply pierced chest.

"Tonight i...i found...i found Miranda's hidden laboratory...I found...i found a lot of medical reports...I...I read a report about you, Lord...Lord Heisenberg...and reports about the other Lords...Also...Also i found many notes and photographs...All those horrible things Miranda does to people... She...She's just a monster in the flesh...Then...Then i found a report about my wife...She was experimented on, and...and...eventually...she...she died of those...inhuman experiments...Suddenly...Miranda emerged out of nowhere, but...i was not afraid...I swore to her that...that i would tell all the villagers the truth about...about all of her evil deeds, but...but i must say that...she possesses superhuman strength...She took me here and unleashed these...these demons for them...for them to get rid of me...I...I was trying to fight them back, but...but there were so many of them..."

The flaming torch, that the fatally injured one had been holding for all this time, now fell out of his weak hand.

"Maria...My darling...If...If i only could...If i only could take revenge on Miranda for your death...If i only could make her suffer the same way...the same way she made suffer you, but...as...as it seems...it...it, unfortunately, will never happen...Forgive me, Maria...I'm...I'm so sorry..."

The tears of utter despair slowly flowed down the cheeks of Boian, mixing with the crimson blood on his lips and chin.

"Looks like you and me crave the same thing, don't we?" The Lord crouched down before the dying one, who had reluctantly accepted his cruel fate.

"What...What do you mean..?"

"See, the fact that Miranda uses living souls as test subjects for the sake of achieving her own goal under the guise of this fucking religious cult is nothing new to me. About all of this i found out long before you. And for all that vicious shit she's done to me i will never forgive her. In secret from everyone i plan on killing that insane bitch. But i am not an idiot. I realize that alone i unlikely will be able to do that because, as you've rightly mentioned earlier, she is extremely strong and powerful. For this reason i gather an army of special soldiers that will help me to destroy her. And since a common desire unites us perhaps you would like to join me so we could wipe Miranda off the face of the earth together?"

Boian bitterly chuckled and coughed up with blood again.

"B-Believe me i...i would...i would do that with great pleasure, but...don't you see that i am almost dead..?"

"That much is obvious, but in this case your death will not be a hindrance for us. All that's required of you to join my army is to give me your corpse. No more and no less. Of the rest i will take care myself."

"What..? What are you...talking about..? How..? How my corpse will...will be able to...to help you defeat Miranda..? I don't understand...What kind...what kind of army do you gather..?"

With a smirk on his scarred face the Lord held out his hand to the baffled villager, making it clear that he's awaiting for nothing other than his agreement. Meanwhile, Boian's vision became blurry, and the voice of his interlocutor he heard somewhere in the distance. His death was too close, there was no time left to ask questions and seek for common sense, the man understood that, and therefore he fully trusted his intuition which quietly yet persistentely whispered him that to take the Lord's offer would be the most correct decision he had ever made in his entire life.

"Anything...I'll do anything to...put an end to...to Miranda's madness...I'll do...anything...for making her...pay...for Maria's...death...Take...Take my dead body...Do with it...whatever...must be done...From now on...it...is...at...your service...and...and so is...my...whole...essence..."

From the last forces half-dead Boian hardly lifted his bloodied hand and held it out to Heisenberg as a gesture of their partnership, and...and it lifelessly fell right into the Lord's palm, after which the villager remained motionless and silent. It was clear that his life line was cut short, and with his free hand Karl closed the dead man's eyes. Then the Lord stood up, adjusted his sunglasses and old leather hat, and easily threw over his shoulder the still warm body which several moments ago had been a living human being.

"Let's go to my factory, Boian! There i will put you in order and give you everything what you will need in the battle against our shared enemy!"

For a minute there was silence in the workshop.

"You've never told me about this before. When did it happen?"

"It happened before i met you. A long time ago." Heisenberg put out the smoked cigar on a metal table. "You know...Of course, this is just his damn revived corpse filled with artificial blood and scrap from top to bottom. I don't know, maybe it'll sound stupid but, to be honest, sometimes i like talking to it like to a living person."

"It doesn't sound stupid at all. Actually, i personally believe that Boian is here. I believe he is always invisibly present near his body, and i believe he can see everything you do and can hear every single word you say. Great thirst for vengeance keeps him here. Boian is patiently awaiting for that sweet moment when Miranda is once and for all annihilated after which he will finally be able to forever rest in peace together with his beloved wife Maria."

The Lord slightly smiled at your words as in his opinion they were a bit romanticized, but still he couldn't deny that in actual fact some part of himself believed that Boian's restless spirit wandered in the walls of the factory no less than you did.

"Perhaps you're right, Buttercup. Perhaps you're right..."

"The kettle is getting cold. Let's go to the kitchen. I guess we should eat a little bit before going to sleep. How do you think?"

"I think it's a good idea. Completely approve."

Having stood up from the stool, you headed for the door but immediately turned around, hearing Heisenberg calling you out.

"And Buttercup, one moment here!"

"Yes, what is it?"

He approached you and tightly yet carefully cupped your face within his rough big hands, forcing you look him in the eye.

"I want you to firmly remember that i'll never let to happen to you what Miranda did to Boian's wife. I'll do anything-do you hear me?-i'll do literally anything to protect you from her wicked tenacious hands, even if it costs me my life. Did you understand me?"

The Lord drastically changed in his behavior. The gaze of his hazel eyes expressed absolute seriousness, and the tone of his husky voice was stern. The unwavering determination of your beloved to sacrifice himself without hesitation in the name of your safety had left you speechless, and therefore all you could do in the response to his question was to quickly nod your head.

"Say out loud that you understood everything what i just said."

"I understood, Karl. I really understood everything what you just said."

"That's good." The tension in the man's body eased, and he lightly kissed your forhead. "Go to the kitchen now. I'll be there in a few minutes."

"Okay." You pronounced quietly, almost in a whisper and, deeply immersing yourself into your thoughts, came out of the room.

"Don't worry, Boian!" The metal army leader's strong hand was laid on the shoulder of his subordinate. "I'll give you a wonderful chance to convert your wish into reality. You will take revenge on Miranda for what she did to you and to your wife. Very soon this psycho bitch will pay the full price for all that hell she, showing no mercy, put not only the two of us through. This will be a spectacular show! Have no doubts about it!"

Standing in the doorway, Heisenberg one more time glanced up at the mechanical soldier. Then he turned the lights off and left the workshop.

*Boian is a romanian male name which means "warrior" or "soldier".