#Could we make them glow in the dark strong enough to see through the skin?

[siriliumischium]

At what point will we be able to create customizable organs to replace failing ones? Like if you needed a new stomach, would you want a normal one, a blue one, a green one, or the purple one with sparkles? Would we be able to replace all our organs with a rainbow spectrum from throat to colon? What about patterns, like a tiger or leopard print style or a honey comb style? Maybe we can make our intestines look like the Beetlejuice worm? Could we put instructions onto the organ as to whom this organ belongs(ed) to and where to burry them?

How would this affect social interactions? Would we brag about getting the newest version of the appendix? Would doctors need to ask if we've had any organs replaced and which ones we got? How colorful and chaotic would public incidents look? Would people treat them like tattoos? Upgrades?

[corendisguise]

Superman Unmasked & Unveiled

Chapter 3

Tom’s heart pounded as he stepped into the fluorescent-lit expanse of the shopping mall. The place was bustling with people, a sea of strangers moving in and out of stores, some faces buried in their phones. He usually avoided malls like this, but today, loneliness had driven him out of his quiet house and into the chaos. Steven had been gone for nearly two weeks, working on set as a stand-in for some actor, and the silence of their home had begun to feel oppressive. Tom missed the way Steven moved around the kitchen, humming softly as he made coffee, the sound of his laughter echoing through the halls.

But as much as he missed Steven, there was another feeling gnawing at him—a prickling unease, a jealous itch that he couldn’t scratch. Steven’s job brought him into contact with so many beautiful people, actors and models and crew members who seemed impossibly glamorous compared to Tom’s mundane existence. He knew it was irrational, but sometimes he wondered if Steven noticed them too, if he felt even a fraction of the attraction to them that Tom did. It was stupid, he told himself, but the thought lingered, unshakable.

Lost in his thoughts, Tom wandered aimlessly through the mall, his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets. He didn’t even realize where he was going until he found himself standing inside a sleek electronics store, the glassshowcase glittering with displays of the latest gadgets. His eyes lingered on a particularly flashy smartphone, its screen glowing hypnotically. For a moment, he considered buying a new phone, but then he went out again and caught sight of the security guard standing just outside the store.

The man was massive, his broad shoulders straining against the fabric of his uniform, his skin a deep, rich brown that seemed to glow under the harsh light. His long braids were tied back neatly, and a name tag pinned to his chest read “James.” Tom froze, his pulse quickening as James glanced in his direction, his dark eyes sharp and assessing. Tom looked away quickly, turning to go, but it was too late.

“Sir,” James called out, his voice low and authoritative. “Could you come here for a moment?”

Tom’s stomach dropped. He hesitated, his feet rooted to the spot, but when James took a step closer, he felt a surge of panic. There was no point in resisting, he told himself. Just go along with it. He walked over to James, his movements stiff and awkward, his face burning with embarrassment.

“Is there a problem?” Tom asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

James didn’t answer right away. Instead, he studied Tom carefully, his gaze traveling from head to toe and back again. It felt invasive, almost predatory, and Tom shifted uncomfortably under the scrutiny. Finally, James spoke, his tone cold and accusing.

“I saw you lingering in the store earlier,” he said. “Did you take something?”

Tom blinked, his mind scrambling for an explanation. “What? No, I didn’t—”

“Don’t lie to me,” James interrupted, his voice cutting through Tom’s flimsy protest. “I don’t have time for games. If you stole something, you need to hand it over now.”

Tom shook his head frantically, his hands coming out of his pockets to gesture helplessly. “I swear, I didn’t take anything! You’ve got the wrong person!”

James’s expression didn’t soften. If anything, his jaw tightened, his lips forming a thin, angry line. “We’ll see about that,” he said, stepping closer. “Let’s go.”

Tom tried to back away, but James grabbed his arm firmly, his grip strong enough to make Tom wince. “Where are we going?” he asked, his voice trembling.

“To my office,” James replied, steering him toward a narrow corridor at the far end of the mall. “We’ll sort this out there.”

Tom’s legs felt like jelly as they walked down the dimly lit hallway, the walls closing in around him. He could feel James’s presence looming over him, his sheer size making Tom feel small and vulnerable. The security guard opened a door at the end of the corridor, revealing a small, sparsely furnished room with a single table and two chairs.

“Sit,” James ordered, pointing to one of the chairs.

Tom obeyed, sinking into the hard plastic seat and crossing his arms over his chest defensively. James stood in front of him, his arms crossed as well, his expression unreadable. Tom waited for him to say something, anything, but the silence stretched on, each second dragging painfully.

Finally, James spoke, his voice laced with irritation. “You know the drill. Empty your pockets.”

Tom hesitated, his cheeks flushing. “I already told you, I didn’t steal anything.”

James’s eyes narrowed. “Do it yourself, or I’ll do it for you.”

The threat was clear, and Tom swallowed hard. With shaking hands, he began pulling items out of his pockets—his wallet, his keys, a crumpled receipt. He placed them on the table one by one, avoiding eye contact with James. When he was done, he sat back, folding his hands in his lap.

James leaned forward, picking up each item and examining it closely. He paused when he reached the receipt, his brow furrowing. “This doesn’t prove anything,” he said, tossing it back onto the table. “You could still be hiding something.”

Tom’s breath hitched. “I’m not—”

“Shut up,” James snapped, cutting him off. “I think you need a more thorough search.”

Before Tom could react, James grabbed the collar of his shirt and yanked it open, buttons popping off and scattering across the floor. Tom let out a startled cry, clutching at his now-exposed chest. His mind reeled, his body frozen in shock.

“Please,” he begged, his voice cracking. “You don’t have to do this.”

James ignored him, reaching out to run his big hands roughly over Tom’s torso. Tom flinched at the touch, his skin tingling uncomfortably. The sensation was unfamiliar, strangely intimate, and a jolt of arousal shot through him, confusing and unwelcome.

James’s fingers moved lower, dipping into Tom’s waistband. Tom gasped, his body tensing as James’s hands brushed against the sensitive skin of his hips. “There’s nothing here,” James said, his voice cool and dismissive. “But I’m not done yet.”

Tom’s heart raced as James stepped back, his eyes scanning Tom’s body hungrily. “Stand up,” he ordered.

Tom hesitated, his legs wobbling as he pushed himself to his feet. James wasted no time, grabbing the remnants of Tom’s shirt and lifting it over his head in one swift motion. Tom’s arms went up instinctively, shielding himself from James’s gaze, but the security guard wasn’t deterred. He grabbed Tom by the wrists and held them firmly above his head, pinning him against the wall next to the table.

“Stay still,” James commanded, his voice low and menacing.

Tom whimpered, his body trembling as James’s free hand slid down his abdomen, brushing against the waistband of his pants once more. This time, when James’s fingers dipped beneath the fabric, Tom couldn’t suppress a groan, his hips bucking slightly. The sound seemed to surprise him as much as it did James, who raised an eyebrow in interest.

“Looks like someone’s enjoying this,” James said, his tone dripping with mockery.

Tom’s face burned with shame, but before he could respond, James’s fingers plunged deeper, exploring the crevice between his buttocks. Tom cried out, his legs giving way as his knees hit the floor. James released his wrists, allowing him to collapse forward onto the table, his upper body pressed flat against the cold surface.

“Spread your legs,” James ordered, his voice commanding.

Tom hesitated, his mind screaming in protest, but his body betrayed him, obeying without question. He spread his legs wide, exposing himself completely to James’s hungry gaze. The security guard stepped closer, his crotch pressing against Tom’s bare back as he reached around to undo the button on his pants.

“You’re going to regret lying to me,” James whispered, his breath hot against Tom’s ear.

Tom’s mind spun, his thoughts a chaotic mess of fear and desire. He wanted to resist, to push James away, but his body refused to cooperate. Instead, he moaned softly as James’s fingers slipped inside his mouth, probing and teasing until Tom’s tongue darted out to meet them.

“Good boy,” James murmured, his voice thick with pleasure.

Tom’s eyes fluttered shut, his resistance crumbling under the weight of his overwhelming arousal. He had no idea how this had happened, no idea why he was letting this stranger take control of him, but the truth was undeniable—he was completely at James’s mercy. If Tom hadn't been so excited, he might have noticed the strange artificial taste of James fingers.

“Now,” James said, his voice low and urgent. “Tell me where it is.”

Tom shuddered, his entire body trembling as James’s fingers withdrew from his mouth and moved lower, slipping between his cheeks to press against his entrance.

“Please,” Tom whimpered, his voice breaking.

James didn’t answer. Instead, he thrust his wet finger inside, breaching Tom’s tight hole with steady pressure. Tom’s head fell forward, his face pressed against the table as he cried out, his body arching involuntarily. The sensation was overwhelming, terrifying and thrilling all at once, and Tom couldn’t help but wonder what else James had planned for him.

James’s fingers lingered inside Tom, stretching him gently but firmly, preparing him for what was to come. Tom’s breath hitched as James pulled his finger out, only to replace it with something cold and smooth. He looked down, his vision swimming with a mix of fear and arousal, to see a sleek, black toy resting against his entrance. It was thick like 3 fingers at least.

“You’re going to like this,” James murmured, his voice a low rumble that vibrated through the small room. His dark eyes locked on Tom’s face, watching intently as he slid the toy in slowly, inch by agonizing inch.

Tom bit his lip hard, trying to stifle the sounds that wanted to escape. The sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pain and pleasure that left him trembling. He couldn’t help but moan softly as the toy breached him, filling him in a way that made his entire body shudder.

James leaned over him, his broad chest brushing against Tom’s back. “That’s it,” he whispered, his breath hot against Tom’s ear. “Take it. Take it all.”

The command sent a shiver down Tom’s spine. He felt so exposed, so vulnerable, and yet there was an undeniable thrill in submitting to James’s control. The toy moved deeper, forcing him to stretch further, and Tom couldn’t stop the choked cry that escaped his lips.

James grinned, clearly enjoying Tom’s reaction. “You’re tight,” he said, almost admiringly. “But you’re handling it well.”

Tom didn’t respond, too consumed by the sensations coursing through his body. The toy moved in and out, each thrust bringing him closer to the edge of something he couldn’t quite name. His cock twitched, leaking pre-cum onto the table beneath him, and he hated himself for how much he was enjoying this.

“You like that, don’t you?” James asked, his voice dripping with satisfaction. He reached around and wrapped a hand around Tom’s throbbing erection, stroking him in time with the movements of the toy.

Tom gasped, his hips bucking instinctively. “Yes,” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “Please…”

James chuckled, clearly pleased with himself. “Good boy,” he said, giving Tom’s cock a firm squeeze. “Now, let’s see how you handle the real thing.”

With that, James pulled the toy out, leaving Tom feeling empty and exposed. He turned Tom over, positioning him on his back on the table. Tom’s legs were spread wide, his body completely at James’s mercy. He couldn’t bring himself to look away as James unbuckled his belt and dropped his pants, revealing a thick, impressive erection that made Tom’s breath catch in his throat.

“You ready for this?” James asked, his voice low and teasing. He grabbed Tom’s legs, lifting them up and placing them on his broad shoulders.

Tom nodded quickly, though his heart was pounding in his chest. He couldn’t believe what was happening, couldn’t believe he was about to be penetrated by someone other than Steven. But the thought of stopping was impossible. He was too far gone, too consumed by the desire to feel James inside him.

James positioned himself at Tom’s entrance, his tip pressing against the sensitive skin. “Relax,” he said, his voice demanding. „ You will now get to know me properly.“

Tom took a deep breath, trying to steady himself. He focused on James’s words, willing his body to comply. Slowly, carefully, James began to push in, his thick length sliding into Tom with deliberate precision.

Tom groaned, his head falling back against the table. The sensation was overwhelming, painful at first but quickly giving way to pleasure. James was so big, filling him in a way that no one ever had before, and Tom couldn’t help but arch his hips, desperate for more.

“There you go,” James said approvingly. “Take it. You’re doing so good.”

Tom whimpered, his hands gripping the edge of the table for support. James continued to push in, his pace slow and controlled, allowing Tom to adjust to his size. Each inch that entered him sent waves of pleasure through his body, and Tom found himself moaning uncontrollably.

“So tight,” James muttered, his breathing becoming heavier. “You’re perfect.”

Finally, James bottomed out, his full length buried inside Tom. Tom cried out, his body trembling with the intensity of the sensation. He felt so full, so utterly dominated, and the realization made his cock throb even harder.

James remained still for a moment, allowing Tom to get used to the feeling. Then, slowly, he began to move, pulling out until only the head of his cock remained inside before pushing back in. The motion was slow and deliberate, each thrust sending jolts of pleasure through Tom’s body.

“Oh god,” Tom gasped, his voice breaking. “Please… faster…”

James smirked, clearly enjoying Tom’s desperation. “As you wish,” he said, increasing his pace. He fucked Tom with long, deep strokes, each one hitting his prostate with pinpoint accuracy.

Tom moaned loudly, his body writhing on the table. He couldn’t hold back any longer, the pleasure building inside him with every thrust. His cock was rock hard, throbbing with need, and he could feel the pressure in his balls growing stronger with every passing second.

“James,” Tom cried out, his voice pleading. “I’m gonna… I’m gonna come…”

James growled, his grip on Tom’s legs tightening. “Not yet,” he said, his voice commanding. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Tom whimpered, desperate to release but unable to disobey James’s orders. He clenched his fists, fighting against the urge to climax, but it was becoming increasingly difficult. The pleasure was too intense, too overwhelming, and he was losing control.

James seemed to sense Tom’s struggle. “That’s it,” he said, his voice low and rough. “Hold on. Just a little longer.”

Tom nodded, though his vision was blurring with tears of pleasure. He clung to James’s words, using them to steady himself as the security guard continued to fuck him with relentless intensity. Each thrust pushed him closer to the edge, and Tom knew it wouldn’t be long before he surrendered. James was now breathing heavily, moaning in between the deep breaths. - He was just not showing any sweat on his body or face what Tom should have surprised Tom normally. - „James… please…” Tom begged, his voice broken and desperate.

James leaned down, capturing Tom’s lips in a rough, bruising kiss. The contact sent a shockwave through Tom’s body, and he realized suddenly that he didn’t want to hold back anymore. He wanted to give in, to let go completely and lose himself in the ecstasy that James was offering him.

With a loud cry, Tom came, his seed shooting across the table and James chest as wave after wave of pleasure washed over him. His body convulsed, his muscles spasming as he rode out his orgasm, completely spent.

James pulled out of Tom abruptly, letting him fall back against the table, panting and exhausted. Tom couldn’t bring himself to care; he was too overwhelmed by the experience, too lost in the haze of his own arousal.

“Damn,” James said, his voice filled with admiration. “You’re a natural.”

Tom closed his eyes, still catching his breath. He felt ashamed for enjoying it so much, for letting James take control like that. But at the same time, he couldn’t deny the thrill of submitting to someone so dominant, so confident in his power.

James leaned down, kissing Tom again, this time more tenderly. “We’ll have to do this again sometime,” he said, his voice laced with promise.

Tom’s eyes fluttered open, meeting James’s dark gaze. “I… I don’t know…” he stammered, his voice trembling.

James smiled, his expression knowing. “Sure you do,” he said, leaning in closer.

Tom’s mind was a whirlwind of emotions. The ecstasy had faded, leaving behind a deep pit of guilt and sadness. He couldn’t believe what he had just done, how easily he had submitted to James. His heart ached for Steven, who was out there, working, meeting beautiful people, while Tom had been indulging in this intense, forbidden encounter.

James, breathing heavily, seemed to sense Tom’s turmoil. He didn’t say anything, but his massive arms wrapped around Tom with surprising gentleness. The warmth of James’s body pressed against him, and for a moment, Tom felt safe, cocooned in strength. But the guilt continued to gnaw at him.

“Shh,” James murmured, his deep voice soothing yet commanding. “It’s okay. You don’t have to feel bad. This was… mutual. You wanted this as much as I did.”

Tom shook his head, tears welling up in his eyes. “I can’t… I can’t do this. Not without Steven.”

James’s grip tightened, but not in a way that hurt. Instead, it was firm, grounding. “You’re here now,” he said softly. “And I’m here. Let me take care of you, even if just for a little while.”

Tom hesitated, his body still buzzing from the intensity of their encounter. James leaned in, pressing his lips to Tom’s once more. This time, the kiss was slow, deliberate, each movement of James’s tongue sending waves of desire through Tom’s body. He could feel himself hardening again, his muscles responding despite the turmoil in his mind.

James pulled back slightly, his dark eyes glinting with something that made Tom’s breath hitch. “You liked it, didn’t you?” he asked, his voice low and intimate.

Tom nodded reluctantly, unable to deny the truth. “Yes… but—”

“But nothing,” James interrupted, his tone brooking no argument. “You’re allowed to enjoy yourself. To let someone else take control for once.”

James’s hand moved down, tracing the length of Tom’s cock as he spoke. The gentle pressure made Tom gasp, his hips instinctively arching into the touch. James smirked, clearly pleased by the reaction. “See? You want this. Admit it.”

Tom bit his lip, trying to resist as his cock was still very sensitive, but James’s skilled fingers were relentless. They moved with precision, stroking him slowly, building the tension until Tom was panting, his body on fire. “Please…” he whispered, unable to hold back any longer.

James chuckled, the sound deep and resonant. “Please what, sweetheart? Tell me what you want.”

“More… I need more,” Tom admitted, his voice breaking.

James’s grin widened, and he leaned in closer, his hot breath brushing against Tom’s ear. “That’s what I thought.” His fingers shifted, moving with bolder strokes, targeting every sensitive spot with expert precision. Tom moaned loudly, his body trembling with anticipation.

As James continued to tease and torment him, Tom’s thoughts began to blur. He tried to focus on the guilt, on the fact that Steven might be hurt by what he was doing, but James’s touch was too overwhelming. It consumed him completely, dragging him deeper into pleasure.

James’s other hand reached up, fingers tangling in the long braids that fell over his shoulders. He tugged gently, pulling them across Tom’s chest and neck, the sensation tickling and thrilling at the same time. Tom squirmed under the dual sensations, his arousal peaking higher and higher.

“Almost there, aren’t you?” James murmured, his voice dripping with confidence. “You’re going to come again for me.”

Tom nodded frantically, his hands clutching at James’s arms for support. He could feel the build-up inside him, the pressure mounting until he was sure he would explode. Just when he thought he couldn’t take it anymore, James stopped, pulling his hand away.

Tom gasped, confused and desperate for more. “What… why did you stop?”

James smirked, his expression mischievous. “Patience,” he said simply. “I’m not done with you yet.”

Before Tom could protest, James leaned forward, positioning himself over Tom’s groin. He took the tip of Tom’s cock into his mouth, swallowing him whole with one swift motion. Tom cried out, his entire body jerking in response. James’s mouth was warm and wet, his tongue swirling and flicking with practiced ease. Every movement sent shockwaves of pleasure through Tom, making it impossible to think about anything else. His first orgasm was only moment ago and he was on the edge again, never felt this intensity before.

James worked his magic, sucking and licking with an intensity that left Tom breathless. He could feel the familiar rush approaching, his climax threatening to overtake him. He clutched at James’s head, gripping the braids tightly as his body tensed.

Just as Tom was on the verge of release, James released him, pulling back with a slight pop. Tom groaned in frustration, his body aching for completion. “Please… don’t stop…”

James grinned, his expression filled with wicked satisfaction. “Not yet,” he said, his voice teasing. “There’s something else I want to try first.”

Tom blinked, his mind foggy with desire. “What… what are you talking about?”

James didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he reached up, his fingers finding a seam along his neck. Tom frowned, confusion setting in as James’s fingers worked the edges of the fabric. He drilled his fingers on both sides of his chin under the edge and moved them slowly upwards. Sweat was running down on both hands. His maskulin features distorted and Tom saw the fingers draw contours under the skin. With a sudden slurping sound, James peeled the mask upwards, revealing the sweaty exhausted face beneath.

Tom’s breath hitched, his eyes widening in shock. The face staring back at him was not James’s—it was Steven’s. Sweat clung to his forehead, his hair sticking to his skin, and his eyes were full of a mix of exhaustion and desire. His eyes were dark brown. For a moment, Tom couldn’t process what he was seeing.

“Steven…?” Tom whispered, his voice barely audible.

Steven—or James, or whoever he was—smiled, his expression soft yet intense. “Surprise,” he said, his voice a perfect blend of Steven’s smooth tones and James’s deep timbre.

The realization crashed over Tom like a wave, sending him spiraling into a state of pure, unadulterated bliss. Steven was holding up the lifeless face of James at the braids, dangling and dripping sweat everywhere. Toms body reacted before his mind could fully grasp the situation, his orgasm hitting him like a freight train. He came hard, his release coating Steven’s face with thick bursts of cum.

Steven stayed still, allowing Tom to finish, his own breathing heavy and labored. Steven was licking away every drop of cum on his lips and smiled broadly. When Tom finally collapsed back onto the table, spent and exhausted, Steven leaned in, pressing a kiss to his lips. “I love you,” he whispered, his voice filled with emotion.

Tom’s eyes fluttered shut, a smile playing on his lips. “I love you too,” he murmured, his voice weak but sincere.

Steven held him close, his strong arms providing comfort and security. Tom knew this wasn’t the end—there would be questions, discussions, and perhaps even consequences—but for now, he allowed himself to bask in the warmth of Steven’s embrace. „It will never become boring with you….“. Steven nodded in silence.

to be continued…

[cocorulesz]

𝐀 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐍 - chapter ¹!

hey, y’all! couple things befo we start! ..

- please do not steal, copy, use, translate or repost/remake my work anywhere. i work really hard on these and the image alone took some time. you get me? igh, COOL!😛

- i don’t swear😭 (expect no cussing)

- warnings: heartbreak idk?😂

tags: @trippinsorrows @shes2real

word counttt: 900+!!💓

OKAY, ENJOY, DUMPLINGS! (who the frick.)

——————————————

The air was thick with anticipation as she stood at the entrance of the grand hall, her heart pounding in her chest. She took a deep breath, trying to steady her nerves. Her father stood beside her, his comforting presence a steady anchor in the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her. She was about to become a Mrs. Fatu, a title that filled her with both excitement and a touch of nervousness.

Her dress was a masterpiece of elegance, a flowing white gown that hugged her curves and cascaded down to the floor in a sea of satin and lace. The intricate patterns sparkled under the soft lighting, making her feel like a princess in a fairy tale. Her dark skin glowed with a radiant beauty, the contrast against the white dress making her look even more stunning. Her hair was styled in soft waves, a delicate tiara resting atop her head, completing the look of a bride ready to walk down the aisle.

As she glanced at her father, she saw the happiness in his eyes, and it gave her the strength she needed. She was excited, yes, but also nervous. The thought of committing her life to Joshua Fatu, the man she loved, was both thrilling and terrifying. But as the music began to play and the doors slowly opened, she knew in her heart that this was the beginning of a beautiful journey.

“You ready fo’ this, baby?” her dad asked, leaning in so his daughter could hear over the music she had picked. She smiled and nodded, still looking over at Joshua and replied with “never been more ready for anything, daddy”. Matthew, her father, acknowledged the response with a nod and led her further down the aisle. Josh turned around as everyone stood from their seats happy to see the bride. But instead of turning around with a big smile plastered on his face and tears rolling down his cheeks, he looked more worried. Scared, if you may.

As she reached the altar, her mind raced with thoughts and emotions. She took a deep breath, trying to steady herself. Josh’s worried expression was unsettling, but she reminded herself of the love they shared and the journey that had brought them to this moment. “You look beautiful” Joshua had said, in which Mariella responded with “Thank you, you look good too!”, not forgetting to add a smile. Josh’s eyes met hers, and for a brief second, she saw a flicker of the man she knew so well. His dark hair was neatly styled into his classic mullet, red at the end, and his tuxedo fit him perfectly, highlighting his buff, bulky build. Despite the worry etched on his face, he looked every bit the groom she had dreamed of. She took her place beside him, her hand trembling slightly as she reached out to him. Josh allowed her to take his hand but he looked away, resulting in Mariella dropping her hand from his. The warmth of his touch reassured her anyways, and she felt a surge of determination. Whatever was troubling him, they would face it together.

The officiant began to speak, but her focus was entirely on Josh. She searched his eyes for answers, hoping to understand what was going through his mind. As the ceremony progressed, she felt a mix of hope and fear. She wanted to believe that their love was strong enough to overcome any obstacle, but the uncertainty in Josh’s eyes made her heart ache.

When it was time for their vows, she took a deep breath and spoke from her heart. “Josh, from the moment I met you, I knew you were the one I wanted to spend my life with. Today, as I stand here about to become a Mrs. Fatu, I promise to love you, support you, and face whatever challenges come our way, together.” Joshua couldn’t help but to smile.

When it was Josh’s turn, he took a deep breath, his eyes locking onto hers. “F-from the moment I met you, I knew you were special. You’ve brought so much joy and love into my life. Today, standing here with you, I .. vow to always support you, to be your rock, and to cherish every moment we share. I vow to be the, uh, best partner I can be, to-“ he sucked in a breath and muttered the rest. “-g-grow with you, and to face…and to face, uhm, every challenge together.” he coughs awkwardly afterwards.

As he finished, there was a brief pause. The officiant then asked the pivotal question, “Do you, Joshua Fatu, take her to be your lawfully wedded wife, to have and to hold, in sickness and in health, for richer or poorer, as long as you both shall live?”

Josh’s face tightened, and he hesitated. He looked deep in Mariella’s eyes, a permanent smile put onto her face, and took both of her hands. As he hesitated for around 5 seconds, Mari’s eyebrows furrowed slightly and her wide smile lessened. The room seemed to hold its breath, everyone hoping for the best outcome.

Finally, he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, “I..I-I do not.”

A gasp rippled through the crowd, and her heart shattered. She felt as if the ground had been pulled out from under her. The man she loved, the man she was about to marry, had just said no. The pain and embarrassment were overwhelming, and she could barely process what was happening.

…………

At that moment, Mariella woke up from her sleep.

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not i left y’all on a cliffhanger? womp, womp. lol sorry, that was rude 😭😭

[oakdaddypreserveme]

halsin x briar

warnings: smut, vaginal fingering, p in v sex, daddy kink

i did not edit this

summary: briar gets hurt and halsin helps her

minors dni

another day of going through the wretched shadow cursed lands. though they had been fighting the undead that haunted the area for days, briar reckoned that she would never get used to them.

the latest scrap had left her with a scratch and more than a few bruises. it hurt more than she let on when shadowheart first enquired about her condition. this place was dangerous and briar couldn’t afford to let her weakness slip in front of her party. as their leader, they needed to see her as a pillar of strength and briar knew that shadowheart was out of spells for the day, just as she herself was.

so when the glow of their camp’s fire could be seen in the distance, briar was more than overjoyed. there she knew gale was waiting with a meal, and astarion was waiting to give her comfort.

and halsin was waiting to tend to her wounds.

ever since she’d freed him from the goblin camp, she had to admit that there was an undeniable chemistry between them. on their journey he’d mentored her about being a druid, especially as she was fairly new to being one before the tadpole got stuck in her brain. oftentimes they would walk through the forest as he showed her the bounty of the oakfather’s gifts. they meditated together in the stillness of the evenings.

when he guided her hand to feel nature around her it seemed that it lingered. when he encouraged her to close her eyes and take in the forest, she felt his breath on her neck. it was enough to make her ache.

but he’d made it clear that the shadowcurse was his priority when they’d celebrated with the tieflings. they’d had plenty of moments since then but briar was certain he wouldn’t act.

so when she walked into halsin’s tent, bruised and battered and in pain, it melted away immediately when their gazes met. for a moment it was as though they weren’t in the shadow cursed lands anymore. for a moment, it was just the two of them.

“you’re hurt,” he said after a pause. he stood up and approached her with a worried eyes and eyebrows knitted in concern.

“a scratch is all,” briar said noncommittally. “shadowheart and i don’t have spells left. could you spare any?”

“of course,” he said. “but this looks like more than a mere scratch, briar. what happened out there?”

she chewed her lip. “we were ambushed on the way out of the gauntlet of shar. shadows and undead. i transformed into a bear to get them all once we got over our surprise. it won’t happen again.”

briar didn’t tell him that she barely had the energy to shift in the first place. that she was exhausted. but he took one look at her and it was like he knew.

“these lands are treacherous, little one. you don’t have to take on the burden of navigating them alone.”

“i don’t—”

he shook his head. “i understand that you need to be strong in front of the others. they rely on you; you are their light in a near hopeless darkness. but i am not them. you don’t have to be strong around me.”

briar laughed humourlessly. “you would say that.”

halsin looked at her steadily. “at the grove the other druids looked to me for strength in the same way a pride of lions looks to their own leader. but i had no one who could be strong for me when i needed it most. at least, not until you saved me from the goblins. so i ask this of you: let me repay the favour.”

it took a moment to realise just how close he was. his soft breaths fanned across her face. his l skin radiated warmth upon her own. briar sucked in a shaky breath as he grabbed her hand. he still had such an effect on her.

“i’m exhausted,” she admitted in a small voice. “i could barely transform into a bear when it counted, and we only just managed to stave off the undead. gods, halsin, what would have happened to everyone here if i’d made a mistake? to thaniel and oliver?”

he pulled her into a hug and she felt safe in his strong arms. “let it out.”

briar didn’t realise she was trembling until he steadied her. she processed her emotions as best she could as halsin comforted her. she truly didn’t realise that she had been hanging on by a thread this whole time and all it took for her to come crumbling was his kind reassurance.

after a moment halsin released briar and she found that she immediately missed the way his arms felt around her. when he gestured her to sit on his bedroll, she complied.

briar sat and he rummaged around his belongings before finding some bandages and ointment. then he looked at her.

“now, where does it hurt?”

briar gestured to her mid section and there the archdruid rested his hand atop her armour before he looked at her. she nodded her consent and he lifted the top to reveal her midsection.

“silvanus’s tears, briar. this…”

her dark, freckled skin was littered with bruises, while scratches made a tapestry of her. she hissed he placed his hand on one of her many lesions.

“this will hurt but a moment, little one,” he said.

she nodded and gasped as he cast lay on hands. it stung, but eventually the feeling melted away and was replaced with a cool warmth. she found herself relaxing under his touch as she closed her eyes allowing the spell to tingle through her body.

“good girl,” he said softly. “that’s it.”

briar moaned softly at the praise, forgetting herself, but the moment she heard it coming out of her mouth it clamped shut and her eyes whipped open.

halsin’s movements stilled at the sound and he looked at her.

“gods, halsin, i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to—”

“i thought you were with astarion.”

the two of them spoke at the same time and briar felt herself getting warm.

“i am…” she started. “but we’ve discussed…my nature as a wood elf. he’s accepting of me, and gave me his blessing to be with you if it ever came to that.”

“how generous of him,” he said softly. “so accepting of our culture.”

“he’s full of surprises,” briar said fondly. “but you need to focus on the shadow curse—”

“i’ve done all i can on my end with thaniel and oliver reunited, thanks to you of course.”

briar felt herself warm at his words. “it was nothing.”

he leaned in. “finding art’s lute? keeping the shadows at bay while i entered the shadowfell? finding oliver and convincing him to stay? you sell yourself short, little one. i could not have done any of it without you.”

the praises shot through her.

“in truth, i’ve admired you the moment you saved me from the goblins,” halsin said, his voice barely above a whisper. “i had my duty to liberate these lands from the curse, and i thought your bond with astarion would prevent anything from happening between us regardless. but i would be lying if i said i enjoyed our lessons together for more selfish reasons. any excuse i could have to touch you, to be near you…

“i’ve lived a long time, briar. i’ve taken many lovers. my heart does not stir lightly. but it does now.”

he placed his hand on her cheek and she leaned into the touch.

“i cannot express how much i’ve wanted you. if you would have me.”

his words were pure poetry, something the wood elf had no experience in. they flowed like water, sang like the melody of the forest. it was a wonder how she’d made it this far at all without getting charmed by the way he composed his words.

“i’m right here.” her voice was breathless as she responded and before she knew it, halsin’s lips were on hers.

briar moaned into the kiss as his hands trailed up her sides. the remnants of the spell tingled through her as he brought her closer to him, creating a delicious sensation wherever he touched.

his tongue prodded her lips and she welcomed him in, relishing the how he explored her crevice. she shivered at the sensation of him brushing her gums, which earned a smile from the archdruid.

the way he felt under her hands, so firm and warm and safe, awoke something in her. where with astarion she felt protective, with halsin she wanted nothing more than to let him have his way with her. to be whatever it was he wanted her to be. to let nature at its most primal take over.

briar bit halsin’s lip and he growled as he grabbed her hips and pulled them to his. his excitement became very apparent against her.

“poking the bear, are we?” he asked between kisses. his tone was almost feral and she relished the way he sounded. being the reason that the usually calm archdruid lost control filled her with some kind of pride. “you’re playing a dangerous game, little one.”

“from where i’m standing, it seems the bear is poking me,” she snarked and she felt him smile against her lips before he moved down to her neck. she moaned softly as he gently sucked an area that made her go wild.

afraid others would hear, briar muffled the sounds she was making with her hand. she heard halsin chuckle against her. “good girl. we wouldn’t want anyone else hearing us.”

she whimpered at his words and halsin pulled back. “it seems you enjoy when i call you that…or when i give you any sort of praise in general.”

she felt herself get warm under his gaze and couldn’t help but look away to avoid it. “i…i like it.”

a delectable smile graced halsin’s lips and he leaned into her neck to kiss it again. “you like being told how good you are for me?” he murmured against her skin. “to be told you’ve done well? to be told that you’re my good girl?”

“hells, halsin,” briar whispered. “i need you.”

he kissed her with more fervor, guiding her down so that she lying comfortably on her bedroll with his form enveloping her. halsin was large and everywhere, with his hands on her breasts, gently tugging at her nipples.

“the noises you make,” halsin whispered, his eyes glowing gold as his hands travelled lower. “gods, briar. i can’t wait to taste you on my tongue. to feel your thighs on my face like a vice. to have your walls clench around me as you cum. you have no idea how long i’ve wanted you under me, the amount of times i’ve rubbed my cock at the thought of you taking every inch of me. of marking you with my bites and having everyone at camp see them the next morning, of staking my claim—”

halsin stopped abruptly as his hands glided against her underwear . a shudder rocked through him as his eyes slid closed and he nuzzled her freckled neck.

“oak father, preserve me,” he moaned against her dark skin, his voice absolutely shattered. “you’re so wet, little one. i’ve barely touched you.”

“i can’t help it,” she responded. “you have such a way with words.”

he chuckled. “talking isn’t the only thing this mouth can do, you know.”

he moved lower, kissing every scratch and bruise on her torso like an act of worship. taking a breast into his mouth, he suckled it while the finger that was circling her drenched underwear teased her folds. briar gasped, her back arching as a soft moan escaped her lips before she watched him tear off her underwear with a growl.

“white panties on a body like yours should be considered sinful,” he muttered before tasting her on his fingers. he groaned when her taste coated his tongue and he took a deep breath as if to compose himself. “not even the sweetest honey can compare to your nectar, briar. i want to drown myself in your scent. to lose myself in you completely. i’m going to absolutely devour you.”

“is that a promise?” she asked and she gasped when he grazed her clit in response.

"you'll be the death of me," he groaned. he placed his forehead on hers and looked deep into her olive green eyes. “if that’s how you want it, we’ll need a safeword,” he murmured, tracing her jawline affectionately with his knuckles. “something you’d never say during sex.”

briar thought for a moment, noting that though his tone was soft, his intention was incredibly serious. this wasn't something that she should take lightly. “drider?”

halsin paused his movements and looked at her as he considered her suggestion before accepting it with a nod. “that’s good enough. say it out loud for me.”

“drider,” she repeated with more conviction and the older elf smiled and kissed her.

“good girl. if things get too much for you, just use that word, alright?”

“you underestimate my abilities, master halsin.”

he raised a cheeky eyebrow before plunging two of his fingers into her. “you’re going to be the death of me.”

briar opened her mouth to retort but just then halsin sent a delicious thrust of his fingers along her walls which caused her to gasp. “fuck.”

“that’s the idea,” he responded before setting a slow, teasing pace. “i'm going to taste you, but first i need to see you cum on my fingers. i need to know how you look like when i do this to you.”

though his fingers felt delicious, the pace was agonisingly slow. briar bit her lip and gasped as she closed her eyes, but her chin was grabbed suddenly which made her whip them open again.

"don't close your eyes," he said firmly. "i need to see you."

briar mewled but nodded her head, focusing on the sensation of his fingers dragging along her walls as she made eye contact with him. it felt divine, almost sinful to feel this good from such a simple movement.

though slow, the pressure began to build inside of her, trickling through her. she tried to form words between gasps around her swollen lips but was too drunk on the feeling to be able to be coherent.

"what is it, lover? use your words," he said before giving her a particularly hard thrust that made her see stars.

he knew what he was doing if the way he was smirking at her was of any indication.

"mmm...~ how m'i s'pose t'say anything if you tease me like this?" she asked between breaths, breasts heaving at another particularly hard thrust.

"hm?" he hummed. "i don't know what you mean."

"fucker," briar said without bite.

"i will be, in a moment," he promised before kissing her full lips again. "now, what was it you actually wanted to say, hm?"

she gasped again as he suckled on her neck once more and felt his teeth graze against her skin. "more."

he let out a soft, teasing breath and she knew he was chuckling. "you'll have to do better than that, briar."

"how do you mean?"

he looked her square in the eye, not for a moment pausing his ministrations. "i'm not in the business of giving in to those without manners. ask nicely."

his words cut through her. briar was never one to demean herself so easily, to give in so readily. but the way he had her in the palm of his hand, the way he got her teetering on the edge so easily...gods it did things to her. she found it easy to submit to him in that moment, to want to submit to him. to want to trust him with her whole being.

though, she didn't want him to know he won so quickly. like a child she let out a petulant hmph and said, "make me."

he paused his movements and regarded her steadily. there was a look in his gaze that was foreign to her. yes, it was still somewhat soft but there was a whisper of something darker lying underneath his eyes.

she shivered as he completely disengaged from her, leaving her cunt aching with emptiness as it tried desperately to squeeze the fingers that had left it. halsin grabbed her hands and pinned them above her, and she squirmed under his intense stare. a new pool of wetness leaked out of her as she saw his eyes flash gold.

"i'll let that slide for now because this is our first time together and you're injured," he said gently. "but if that's the kind of game you want to play i promise i can be a lot less accommodating."

his tone shot through her. she had no idea that she would enjoy being reprimanded like this. being the subject of his present ire only made her want to misbehave more.

"silvanus's breath," she muttered.

he shook his head with a smirk. "that's not the name you should be calling out when i'm having my way with you."

"oh?" she asked with her own smile. "what would you prefer? 'master halsin'?"

he cringed. "i'd prefer not."

briar smiled wickedly. "daddy?."

he froze and let out a deep breath. "you're playing with fire, little one."

"even forests get burned as nature takes it course."

halsin's grip on her hands tightened. "i was going to treat your body like an altar. i was going to taste you until you saw stars. i was going to worship you so thoroughly sune herself would be envious. but now..." he brought her leg to wrap around his hip as he slotted himself between her legs. briar felt his bulge nudge against her engorged clit and she moaned. "...i see you don't want that. at least, not tonight."

"and what do i want? enlighten me."

he growled lowly. "you want to be fucked. to be used as my plaything. to be so utterly wrecked that you forget your own name. did i get that right?" his voice had dropped an octave and she bit her lip at the promise.

"gods, yes."

"yes what?"

"yes, daddy."

"good girl."

he smiled and kissed her gently before look her in the eyes once more. they were soft, and inherently she knew he was asking if she wanted him to continue. "i'll be rough. what's your safeword?"

"drider."

he nodded before unbuckling his trousers and finally, finally, setting his glorious cock free. immediately briar's mouth watered, and halsin must have noticed her lick her lips because he laughed.

“i’ll use your mouth another time. perhaps even later tonight. but right now…” he teased her entrance with this tip. “i’m going to have my way with you, little one.”

briar struggled with her pinned arms.

“since you asked for more earlier, that’s what i’ll give you. however, because you’d forgotten your manners, you don’t get to cum until i say so. is that clear?”

“what? wait that’s not fair—”

“i didn’t ask if it was fair, i asked if i was clear,” he interrupted.

she genuinely didn’t know if she could do it, but she trusted halsin enough to know her limits so she nodded.

“the safeword is always an option,” he reminded gently. then more firmly he asked, “am i clear?”

“yes daddy.”

“good.”

slowly he began to sheathe his cock into her and the stretch burned but in the best way. she realised that he had been preparing her earlier, opening her up as much as he could and she was grateful.

“i’m halfway in,” he said gently and her eyes shot up. only halfway? gods she could die on his cock. it was better than dying by tadpole, that was for sure. what a way to go.

when he finally slotted himself into her fully, her legs trembled uncontrollably. she had to take a few long breaths as it grazed a sensitive part inside her that made her see stars. “ahhhh, halsin wait. if you move i think i’ll cum.”

“already?” he asked and when she nodded he swore under his breath. “oak father, preserve me.”

it took a moment for the intense feeling to subside and for her to nod the okay.

he began thrusting at a steady pace, slowly at first to get her used to his length. he reached down and flicked her clit which made her arch her back from how good it felt. his hips snapped into her which sent her soaring and she felt herself trembling again.

his forehead was laced with concentration as his eyebrows stitched together. sweat beaded all over his body as his muscles rippled.

briar struggled against his arm as all she wanted to do was touch him. she needed to feel his skin under her own but gods he was strong.

“halsin,” she said, closing her eyes. “please. need to touch you,”

once again he grabbed her chin and made her look at him. “what did i say, briar? as soon as you learn one rule you forget another one.”

“m sorry halsin it just feels so nice,” she said.

he tutted and increased his pace. “you learned your manners at least. as for touching me,” he rubbed her clit again, “if you can promise you can be a good girl for me, i’ll let you go.”

“yes, i promise to be good. please let me touch you.”

he loosened his grip and gave one of her hands a light kiss. “the way you beg could turn the most hardened of hearts.”

“thank you,” she said, at both the compliment and him allowing her to touch him.

their fingers interlocked as her other hand explored his torso. it was damp with sweat and rippled as he fucked into her.

the string in her was tightening once more as he carried on. the way he looked at her as she panted and gasped was almost with reverence as she fought to stave off the orgasm.

“i’m so close,” she warned.

he slowed immediately, taking his hand off her clit and leaned in to kiss her. “good girl. i didn’t even ask you to tell me.”

she whimpered into the kiss and wrapped her arms around his neck, not wanting him move away from her. briar pulled his hair when he thrust deeply and he moaned, swearing under his breath when her nails dug into his back and scratched him as she arched into him.

emboldened, halsin lifted her hips so his thrusts could reach deeper inside and briar screamed at the sudden change in angle.

“how does it feel, briar?” he asked softly.

“you’re reaching all the deepest parts of me,” she managed. “it’s like i can’t get enough.”

“if you can still speak so coherently, maybe i’m not doing as thorough a job,” he said before picking up the pace again.

he was rough, and briar knew she would ache for days to come but she didn’t care. she craved him like sun craves the west.

he left bites and marks all over her body to pair with her earlier bruises. she sobbed from how good it all felt and from holding onto the impending orgasm with all her might.

“halsin please,” she begged, tears in her eyes.

“just a little longer. you’re taking me so well,” he said gently.

the juxtaposition between his tone of voice and the way he was fucking her could send anyone into a dizzy spell. briar cried and begged and pleaded but not once did she even consider using the safeword. it all felt too good and a part of her wanted to see how far halsin would take her.

finally, finally, “cum for me, briar . let go for me.”

she came the hardest she ever had in her life, sobbing and thanking him as she trembled. the feeling washed through her like a river of pleasure.

with a roar, halsin came inside her, pumping her with his seed and fucking it into her. it felt good, and she whimpered as he slowed until he stopped.

halsin kissed her forehead as his orgasm waned. briar shivered when he pulled out, once again feeling empty.

halsin was on her immediately, kissing her gently before grabbing some water and a towel for her. briar drank her fill while he wiped her and got ready to cast healing touch before she grabbed his hand.

“no, i like the pain,” she said softly.

halsin looked troubled. “i went harder in the end than i intended. please, let me—”

she shook her head. “safeword, remember? i trusted you not to hurt me.”

“even then—”

a stern look from briar quickly shut him up and he shook his head. “at least let me lie with you until morning.”

“i can manage that,” she teased.

[sugarsprinklesoul]

6 Months Till Summer: Your Ultimate 6 Month Glow Up Guide

As the new year unfolds, so does the countdown to summer. You might be thinking, what? This early? YES. Summer is about 6 months away at the time I’m writing this post. This is the perfect time to start thinking about what we want our summer to be like. The earlier you start, the easier it is to achieve all your summer dreams! So rather than feeling overwhelmed by last-minute transformations, let’s start working on our glow up together now.

In this post I will guide you through the next 6 months and what you can do to make sure you look and feel your best when summer arrives.

We are starting off super early. At the time I’m writing this post it is still January. For years I’ve always had goals for summer but I let life pass me by and when May came around I started to panic, thinking how can I look and feel my best when summer is already knocking at my door? This year let’s say goodbye to those feelings and make place for a more empowering approach.

Below is your ultimate guide for your best summer yet! <3 Each month you will be adding new habits to your daily routine. Make sure to keep doing the habits when the month ends. So all the habits you start doing 6 months before summer you will continue doing 5 months before, 4 months before, 3 months before and all the way up until summer! With each new month you will just keep adding more! It would be even more amazing if you could make them apart of your daily life forever.

Action steps:

Vision Boards: Create a few vision boards to visualize your summer goals. Make them inspiring and motivating. This way you have something to reference if you feel a little lost on your summer glow up journey.

Healthy eating: Start adding more healthy, nourishing foods into your meals. More dark leafy greens, vegetables, big nourishing breakfasts. Start seeing food as your fuel, if you don’t provide your body with the right kind and amount of foods, it won’t work in your favor! Healthy food is energy, glowing skin, health and happiness

Daily Walks: Begin taking daily walks to stay active and boost your mood! You can walk in the gym or at home on a treadmill but I would really really recommend for you to take your walks outside. The fresh air does wonders for your mental well being.

Reduce Greasy and Fried Foods: Cut back on ultra processed and unhealthy foods. Especially greasy and fried foods. Not only do these foods negatively impact your health, they also can cause hormonal and physical changes that can worsen your skin and complexion. We want that glowy summer skin! So cutting back on these foods early, will give you enough time to achieve that. Does this mean no more fries? Of course not. Just enjoy these foods in moderation!

Workout Routine: Find a workout routine that works for you and start incorporating it into your lifestyle. Personally I will be adding runs to my routine, Pilates and Yoga and some strength training. I like to have a variety of workouts so I don’t get bored so easily. By starting to build your routine now you can build confidence, resilience and the stamina to enjoy your summer.

Consistency: Start working on your consistency. Remember the promises you make to yourself and keep them. It’s time to let go of the “I’ll start tomorrow” mindset and start your habits today. Even if you think your whole day was a “bad day” you can still finish off strong by doing a evening yoga session for example. Think of the person you want to become and act like her.

Skin Care Routine: Start your summer skin care routine. I’m sure you already have a skin care routine you do daily. Start adding products into your routine that will give you that glowy summer skin! Think about Vitamin C, Niacinamide and hydrating ingredients. Also don’t forget to wear your sunscreen daily when going outside. It’s the ultimate secret to flawless, glowy skin.

Summer Aesthetic: What will your summer aesthetic be? Obviously you look amazing the way you are now. But to me, it’s so much fun to pick a type of aesthetic for summer and dress for the occasion. For example in summer I like to grow my hair out mermaid style and do fun mermaid type hairstyles.

Posture Routine / Stretches: Begin to add a stretch / posture routine to your schedule. Personally I like to do a little yoga each morning to wake up my body. You can do a special Yoga Posture routine to really get all the benefits. Improving your posture will work wonders on your confidence, trust me.

Wardrobe Refresh: Start building your wardrobe with key summer pieces! Maybe buy some new bikinis that make you feel confident. Hair accessories, new shoes, cute workout clothes. Everything that makes you feel amazing during summer and you can wear on your active summer days. Clean out your closet and look for your favorite summer clothes. This is the time to look at your visionboard and build on your summer aesthetic.

Get up Earlier: Now that the days are getting longer, let’s take advantage of the sun and get up earlier. This is a great habit to build for summer, it will make sure that you can enjoy the days and maybe even catch a sunrise. Make sure to start working on you sleep schedule. Early nights and early mornings are key. This will help you be more productive, energized and boost your mood and overall well-being.

Increase Workouts: By now you have been doing your new workout routine for 3 months already! Change some things up and level up on others. Maybe take a few longer runs, do a longer yoga workout, whatever feels good to you! It’s time to really put in the work and make yourself strong and confident. When doing this, make sure to also fuel your body accordingly! You don’t want to under eat and over train as this will hinder your progress and have you feeling dull and lifeless by the time summer comes around.

Fruits, Veggies and Salads: Now that spring is here let’s eat more fresh, cooling foods to keep your body cool and hydrated. Start adding even more veggies and fruits into your meals. Make big salads, fruit salads, protein smoothies and juices. All these antioxidants and vitamins will not only make you feel great but also look great too!

Body Hygiene: With summer just around the corner and spring in full motion, it’s time to take give our bodies a little extra love. When wearing a bikini we want to feel confident, fierce and beautiful. To make sure that happens we can give our bodies a little extra care. Think of getting a laser treatment for unwanted hair, body scrubs, lymph drainage, massages, a bikini wax, a little extra body lotion. Start doing all the things to get your body ready, glowing and looking amazing for summer.

Summer Prep: Start prepping for summer! Organize your wardrobe, add your favorite summer clothes and shoes. Prep your jewellery, bags and other accessories you want to wear. Get your bikinis ready, maybe buy some new ones.

Summer Body Routine: Personally in summer my body needs a little extra love. More sunscreen, more waxing (obviously lol) and I like to have a little more glow by using body lotions and scrubs. I recommend adding a weekly summer prep body routine so you always feel ready to take on the day. It’s the worst when we want to do spontaneous things and then we remember we haven’t shaved for a week. Nothing worse than a last minute shave (ouch). Also start to add cooling ingredients in your skin care routine like Aloe Vera and face masks. To keep our skin fresh and glowing.

Healthy Habits: Keep doing all the healthy habits you have done so far! Like your workout routines, daily walks, better posture etc.

I hope by the time summer comes around you are feeling the most confident you have ever felt in your life. Each time you finish a habit, feel those empowering feelings and use them to keep you motivated! All these tiny steps add up and will help you to have a massive transformation for summer.

Each month I will be going more in depth into what you can do until summer arrives with more examples and a few mini guides. For now, I hope this post has inspired you to take transform your life for the better and start working on yourself because you love yourself! <3

And remember, your summer glow up is all about making sure you have the best summer you have had so far! It’s NOT about being the skinniest or eating the healthiest foods or working out the most. It’s about you feeling amazing and comfortable in your body so you can go out and enjoy summer to the fullest!

[amica-aenigmata-naboo]

Blood Sport

Feyd Rautha x Y/N - drabble part 3 - 1.1K WC

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3 (you are here!)

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6 NSFW 18+

Masterlist

Warnings: violence, blood, blood eating/drinking, killing of darlings, reader in pain, pretty fluffy, reader is just built different, semi knife throwing?, slow burn, this man is falling slowly for you but you're falling harder

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

Feyd opened your chamber doors to see his star disc still alight. You rested against the headboard of your bed looking rather sickly. The color of your face was dull and you had heavy bags beneath your eyes. 

“You again.” You croaked out, running a hand over your face. One of your nails cracked off, you groaned at the pain, sucking in a breath through your teeth.

“Me again.” He said with a slight look of concern. “Are you alright?” He looked around the dark room, the red glow from the star disc illuminated the empty jars you had originally brought with you from Succo. He remembered what they were filled with. “You’re… you drink…”

“Blood? Yes it is… an unfortunate affliction.” You sighed, steadying your breath as your head pounded. 

“Affliction?” He questioned.

You motioned to your fangs, “The original Sanguines survived off the blood of their enemies. With less people challenging House Cruor, the need for fangs and blood faded out. Yet I was fortunate enough to get them. It is my shame to carry despite it being seen as a sign of power.” 

“You’re hungry and it’s making you weak?” He asked, processing your words. 

You nodded, “I could still take you.” You said flitting your broken nail at him.

He dodged it at the last second, “Oh I bet you could.” He licked his lips before picking up one of the empty jars and walking out of your chambers. 

He returned some time later, you were on the edge of sleep. The door shutting startled you waking you up completely, you broke off another nail, ready to flit the sharp improvised weapon at him. “You just keep happening don’t you?”

“I’m known to be quite persistent.” He said with a smirk. He rounded the bed handing you a jar full of dark blood, darker than normal. 

You looked up at him, eyebrows drawn together. 

“My darlings must be disposed of before we wed. What better way than to have them drained for my future bride?” He said, sitting softly on the bed next to you.

You unscrewed the lid, the blood smelled… sour. But not unpleasantly so. Your mouth watered incessantly, you brought it to your lips gulping down a few sips before you gagged. You spit the blood back into the jar, “Fuck!” You said wiping your mouth before setting the jar on the bedside table. 

“What?” Feyd said with concern in his eyes.

“It’s… rotten.” You said with a sigh, the sickly blood taste still ruminating in your throat. 

Feyd’s eyes searched for another option before they stilled on you. “Can you drink without killing?” He asked.

You looked at him confused, “From a host?” You asked.

He nodded.

“Yes but… I cannot ask that of you.” You said.

He stood, taking off his chest armor and shirt. If you had any blood to spare you’d be blushing. His physique was strong, muscular yet lean. He was a beautiful shade of porcelain. Your eyes trailed all the way down to the ‘V’ that trailed below his waistband. If you weren’t so ill he would have teased you. He sat back down, closer to you. He cautiously brought a hand to your cheek, turning you to look at him. Your eyes were sad, full of shame. 

“No shame, only pleasure remains.” He said, gently pulling your head towards his neck.

You could smell his blood beneath his skin, hear it pulse with every heartbeat. Begrudgingly, you sank your teeth into his pulse point, mouth filling with what you could only describe as nectar of the gods. You and Feyd moaned in unison; you felt your nails regrow slowly, your cheeks fill with color, the bags under your eyes disappear. With every drink you felt stronger. You only came back to reality when you felt his hands on your waist. You pulled away, droplets of blood trailing down your chin to your neck. Your eyes glowed the most beautiful shade of red. You licked over the circular wounds, feeling them close beneath your tongue. 

Feyd sighed at the contact, eyes finding yours. “Good?” He whispered.

“Absolutely vile.” You said, wiping the corners of your mouth with a small smile. You gently took his hand, running your fingers over his knuckles. “Thank you.” 

He squeezed your hand in reassurance, “Anything for you… you look…” he trailed off quietly.

“Horrific? I know the blood and fangs and eyes are… abnormal.” You looked down, beginning to pull your hand away from his. 

“Enchanting.” He said holding your hand between his large ones.

You looked up, for once you heard your own heartbeat. It was so quick you feared it might stop. “How long until we wed?” You asked looking at his face. It was growing less loathsome by the day. For someone so psychotic he didn’t act like it. 

“We should rest…” you said.

“Together?” He asked.

“If you wish it.” You smiled softly. 

Feyd stood, putting his shirt back on much to your dismay. He laid next to you in the large bed. A great distance between you, he did not want to push your boundaries. You smiled at him, your glowing red eyes captivating him before they closed. You drifted off rather quickly while he couldn’t help but watch you sleep. He wondered if you could ever love him. Ever… want him, in the way he was growing to want you. It was consuming his black heart and he wished for nothing more than you to return his… love.

————————————-

Your body twitched slightly as your mind raced. Visions of Feyd’s life flashing before your eyes as you slept. His blood coursing through you gave you insight into his life. You saw the Baron… he did… unspeakable things to Feyd. Tortured him. Abused him in every way. Made Feyd this killing machine with no conscience. Tears slipped down your unconscious face as you began mumbling, wishing to help him but completely unable to. With a final hit from the Baron you shot up, gasping for air as if the wind had been knocked out of you. You felt a hand touch you before you flinched away from it. You looked over seeing Feyd and his worried gaze. Without thinking you pulled yourself into him. Breathing him in. 

He faltered for only a moment, before wrapping his strong arms around you, “What is it little love?”

His words soothed your heart but you couldn’t bear to tell him what you saw, what you knew of him. “Night terror…” you said monotonously. “Stay with me?” You almost begged him.

“Always.” He said, holding you to his chest as he laid you both down. You shifted making yourself comfortable before listening to his rhythmic heartbeat. 

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

Naboo's Note:

Hello! Last nights post inspired me so much I just kept it all going. If there are errors please have a little grace I wrote this on my phone and did not proof read it because I wanted to get it out before work. I hope ya'll enjoy it and I can't wait to post part 4 - things are gonna heat up! XOXOXOXOXOXO

[synnthamonsugar]

Merry Krillmas Written for @wonderwafles as a part of a small yearly exchange. Also on AO3

"If we can survive this, we can survive anything," said young Xi Ro as she and her siblings strolled dark passages illuminated in blue glow lamplight. They'd ventured deep enough that the architecture of the Osmium Palace had given way to untouched stone, heavy carved columns replaced with stalagmites, the decorative vaulted ceilings replaced with sharp outlines of stalactites. "At least that's what Father says."

Fundament had entered its Long Winter, a time when axial tilt combined with orbital irregularities plunged the world into a particularly bitter period of cold and darkness. The conjugation occurred infrequently enough that many krill lived without experiencing it.

It was a time when the Osmium Court battened hatches and external life waned, thoughts turned from external threats inward to stockpiles and crops that flourished in fertile cavern soil. The castle was permeable, built into the porous rock of the alien continental shelf. Instead of fishermen braving ice encrusted seas, they dove into twisting natural tunnels to the deep unfrozen ocean to cast their nets on the schools of arthropods who flocked around the light of their eyes, and fish lured away from rough seas into the safety of the crags beneath the castle.

With the cold and the dark came celebration too. Each new moon, a feast marked the passage of time, the largest happening on the nadir of their journey. It was this celebration the princesses had snuck away from — while the court was lost in the revelries of good food, strong drink, and conviviality, the workers drawn from the tunnels to the celebration and the guards consolidated to the main hall, they disappeared out a utility hallway into the undercroft. Royal finery had been cast off for waterproof skins and insulating furs, a stolen hand torch — and the traverse-line planted by navigators — guided them through the darkness.

Aurash was thrilled to explore parts of the castle that children were banned from, while Xi Ro was excited to see what monsters lurked below. Sathona felt a pang of annoyance missing the party, but the opportunity for mischief compelled her to join. Besides, three was the luckiest number, forming an indivisible whole. To split would invite disaster.

"Taox says living through it is auspicious," Aurash added, looking back at her sisters from the lead. "Anyone who does is destined for greatness."

"It's a trial," Sathona offered. "A time when new champions for krillkind are chosen by the old . . .”

Xi Ro tilted her head, urging her sister to continue.

Sathona's eyes narrowed in a mischievous smile. "I can't tell you. You will be frightened by the stories."

Xi Ro flared with indignity. "I will not! Tell me, sister!"

"You know she's winding you up," sighed Aurash. "Don't give her what she wants."

"Tell me!" Xi Ro scuttled for her older sister's back, throwing her off balance for a step until she adjusted to the new equilibrium. She clung tight to Sathona's neck, face against the hood of her cloak. "I'll make you carry me until you do!"

"That sounds good to me," Sathona played along, locking her forearms under Xi Ro's legs for support. "You overestimate your might, little sister. I could carry you to the end of the tunnels and back without getting winded."

Xi Ro made a frustrated noise, legs kicking to and fro in agitation. "You're so mean!"

"Mean? Me?" She intoned in mock hurt, "I'm giving you a sedan ride worthy of the King’s procession. We only lack the servants to carry your parasols and fans, not that we need them down here . . ."

Xi Ro slid petulantly down her elder sister's back, making herself as inconvenient as possible to carry.

"Fine, I'll tell you." Sathona dropped her, Xi Ro scrambling to her feet effortlessly. "But you can't blame me if you get nightmares."

The trio came to rest next to one of the openings in the cave floor, the kind that would be bustling with divers during work hours. Atmospheric pressure kept the water from flooding in, forming a perfectly still, dark mirror.

“The fall of the Osmium homeworld into the seas of Fundament marked the first of the Long Winters. The krill who survived found themselves beset not only by an inhospitable environment, but the slavering jaws of every creature on this world. Emboldened by darkness and frenzied by scarcity, beast and barbarian alike crept forth from the far north, throats parched for the ichor of the krill."

Xi Ro watched, transfixed, hanging off her sister’s every word. Aurash looked less impressed, but nonetheless held her tongue for her little sister's sake.

“It was a time of complete darkness,” she continued, extinguishing the torch so that they were plunged instantly into pitch black. Xi Ro jumped and Sathona chuckled low to herself. “Of despair. But not total hopelessness, for a champion arose.”

Slowly their eyes acclimated. As they did, detail emerged around them. The gentle bioluminescence of the lichens that covered the slick cave walls, and the mats of moss crowned with glistening dew. In the moon pool, the outlines of schools of fish — as delicately frilled as the lepidoptera who fluttered around the hanging gardens under hazy summer skies, surfacing to pick at the algae growing on the smooth stone. Sathona thought it more beautiful than the phosphor chandeliers of the palace or the auroras that hung perpetual in the dark skies, the gentle lapping of water and rock settling more enchanting than all the song and revelry of the great hall.

"Her name is lost to time. She is called Ûtun — The Indomitable, in the old language. The exception that proves the Timid Truth. It's not unusual to find a krill who is formidable, or courageous," she looked first to Aurash, then Xi Ro, whose eyes brightened, ". . . or smart. We live and die by these traits. But no one who has lived since has exemplified all three to such great degree . . . "

Sathona went on to describe (with a child's fancifully gorey embellishment) how in the first of the Long Winters, Ûtun single-handedly fought a rampaging icewyrm who threatened the nascent settlement that grew into the Osmium Court. She recounted the legend of her second Winter, a thrilling war caper involving a months-long siege of the Osmium Palace against the cannibal Helium Drinkers, and her army's eventual triumph against the invaders. Sathona especially brightened when she recounted the third story — Ûtun using her wisdom, wits and charm to survive the inhospitable wilderness, delivering supplies to a distant outpost cut off by endless blizzard.

"What happened to her?" Xi Ro asked, when Sathona got to the end of the third tale, and paused for a long while.

"Well, she lived longer than a krill ought to, much longer. Rumors swirled that she was deathless. Others said she was mortal, but bound to this world by her mission. Whatever the case, one day she was gone. Disappeared without a trace. Everyone feared for the next time of darkness, without her strength, her courage, her intelligence.

"But when the sun set on the last day, and krill retreated to these very tunnels, three loyal disciples beseeched her for protection. For guidance. They looked into the dark waters, and called out to her."

Sathona rested on her belly, gazing into the moon pool. Xi Ro excitedly followed, while Aurash paused before rearranging herself to mimic her sisters.

"It's true that no one will ever match her. This is why she chooses a trio to carry her mantle. One for strength. One for courage. One for wits."

"I wish she would choose faster," Aurash groused, out of patience for Sathona's antics. "We came here to explore."

"You can't hurry Ûtun," Sathona sighed matter-of-factly. "She appears when she's needed, and only then."

"What happened next?" pleaded Xi Ro.

"From the water she came to them. She deemed them worthy, and commanded them to prove themselves as her champions. And with their combined powers they were able to keep the krill safe for another cycle. When they met their end, she chose a new set of exemplars. And this is why the krill will always survive the Long Winter, no matter how harsh."

Xi Ro leaned so close that the tips of her mandibles almost broke the still water. Aurash fidgeted. Sathona smiled.

". . . can we leave now?" Aurash asked.

"No!" Xi Ro objected. "We have to wait for Ûtun."

Aurash groaned. "We're going to be here for a long time, then. Little sister . . . do you really believe all this?"

"There's no need to 'believe'," Sathona lied, "it's all true."

"It is not —"

" — It is! I swear on my third eye!"

"It's another of your stories —"

Xi Ro screeched, scrabbling for both her sisters' arms. At once, the elder siblings looked down and jumped nearly out of their shells at the sight of a fourth set of eyes set in the dark outline of a crested head. Aurash startled so violently that she slipped face-first into the pool before recovering her balance, while a split-second roil of panic welled in Sathona —

"Princesses."

Taox's voice was as cool and hard as the stone below. All three scrambled to their feet, facing their tutor — still wearing a partygoer's ceremonial mantle and sashes and jewels upon her horns and neck — with stiff backs and guilty consciences.

"This area is not safe, no matter how good you are at escaping the consequences of your mischief. Come along now, children, before your Father sobers enough to notice your absence."

All three knew better than to argue with the Taox, especially when she was saving them from the ire of the King. They fell in line behind her like three hatchlings following a mother bird, setting forth to the surface.

[moonselune]

Ahh!! I love your writing so much, and I'm so excited to see your rq's open! And, if I could, Wyll looking for Ulder and his fiancé, who he was worried Ulder wouldn't like bc she's off putting sometimes (I'm thinking Body 3 Drow but I am biased from that one anon) and instead finds them chatting it the fuck up. Absolutely gabbering about everything. I just adore domestic Wyll

I also just adore domestic Wyll too ! Thank you so much !!!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Wyll x Drow!Fiance!reader | Plotting

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The party was in full swing, filled with the warm glow of lanterns and the murmur of conversation. Music hummed through the air, and Wyll navigated through the crowd with an air of tension about him. His eyes scanned the room, searching, always searching for two people—Ulder Ravengard, his father, and you, his fiancée.

He had been nervous all day, stomach in knots at the idea of introducing the two of you. Ulder was a strong presence, a man with commanding authority, and while Wyll knew you were more than capable of holding your own in any conversation, there was still a lingering anxiety about how the two most important people in his life would get along. You, a proud and strong Drow woman, could be a bit… off-putting to people unaccustomed to your forthright nature and the formidable stature you carried so effortlessly. Even though you had a softer side that only Wyll knew, he feared his father would not see past the prejudices many surface-dwellers held toward the Drow.

The room swirled with faces, laughter, and clinking glasses, but Wyll couldn’t focus on any of it. He was determined to find you both before any awkwardness could ruin the night.

Finally, his eyes landed on a familiar figure in the distance. You were standing by one of the large bay windows, looking striking as always in a deep violet gown that hugged your muscled frame in all the right places. The light of the lanterns reflected off your midnight-dark skin, your silver hair tied up in a loose but elegant knot at the base of your neck. Standing beside you, much to Wyll’s surprise, was Ulder Ravengard, a drink in his hand as he leaned in, engaged in what seemed to be a lively conversation.

Wyll’s heart skipped a beat. Was it going well? He took a few cautious steps closer, straining to hear the tone of your voices before deciding whether to intervene.

He stopped in his tracks, listening in with a mix of confusion and relief.

“…and then, instead of taking the obvious route, Wyll decides to climb over the damned fence—gets stuck halfway up, mind you. There he is, legs kicking like mad, making enough noise to wake the dead!” Ulder was laughing, a deep, rich sound that Wyll hadn’t heard in ages. The former Grand Duke seemed completely at ease, his face softening into an amused smile as he told the embarrassing childhood story.

“And what did he do?” you asked, grinning, your eyes gleaming with interest. Wyll recognized the playful spark in your expression, the one you usually reserved for when you were about to tease him mercilessly.

“He dangled there for a good five minutes until the stablehand had to come out and haul him down!” Ulder shook his head, clearly enjoying the memory.

You chuckled, the sound low and rich, and Wyll felt his breath catch. The sound of your laughter, combined with his father’s, was something he hadn’t expected. But here you both were, sharing stories as if you had known each other for years.

“Oh, I can believe that,” you replied, a mischievous glint in your eyes. “It reminds me of the time we were up against a group of gnolls. Wyll decided he could talk them down—started lecturing them about the importance of teamwork or something.” You waved a hand, recalling the moment with dramatic flair. “One of the gnolls actually sat down to listen—only for the rest of them to try and rip him apart five minutes later.”

Ulder barked out a laugh, slapping his knee. “That sounds exactly like him! Always with the speeches, isn’t he? I told him he could not have a pet mephit and he spoke of it for days like some great injustice. It almost worked, he was always the charismatic one.”

You nodded, eyes twinkling with affection as you glanced in Wyll’s direction, catching sight of him at last.

“Oh, absolutely. But I wouldn’t have it any other way.” You gave Wyll a small wink, which made his heart skip.

Wyll stood frozen for a moment, taking in the scene with a mix of relief and embarrassment. Here he was, worrying for nothing. His father and his fiancée, two people he had feared would clash, were standing together, sharing stories and laughing at his expense.

“Well, well, what do we have here?” Wyll finally said, stepping forward, a sheepish grin on his face. “Plotting against me already?”

Both you and Ulder turned to face him, still smiling broadly.

“Just reminiscing,” Ulder said, setting his drink down on a nearby table. He approached Wyll, clasping a firm hand on his son’s shoulder. “You’ve picked well, son. I have to say, I wasn’t sure what to expect, but—” He gestured toward you with a nod. “She’s quite remarkable. You’ve found yourself a strong one, haven’t you?”

Wyll’s heart swelled with pride and relief. He glanced at you, and you just smirked, raising an eyebrow as if to say, well, of course.

“I’ve been telling him that for years,” you said, crossing your arms in mock offense. “But he doesn’t always listen.”

Wyll chuckled, stepping over to stand beside you, feeling your presence like a steady anchor in the room. You were tall, muscled, and intimidating to many, but to him, you were warmth, comfort, and strength personified. Ulder looked between the two of you, a thoughtful expression crossing his face.

“I see what you mean,” he said, as if realizing something. “You two complement each other well. Good balance.”

Wyll’s heart fluttered. His father’s approval, something he had quietly hoped for, felt like a weight lifting off his shoulders. He squeezed your hand gently, knowing full well that you had won Ulder over with nothing more than your unfiltered self—and maybe a few well-timed jabs at his expense.

“Balance,” Wyll echoed, turning to you with a warm smile. “That’s one way to put it.”

You grinned back, giving him a playful nudge with your elbow. “He means you’re lucky to have me.”

Wyll shook his head, eyes sparkling. “Luckiest man in the world.”

Ulder clapped him on the shoulder again. “You’ve done well, son. Very well.”

As the evening wore on, the three of you continued to talk—stories of Wyll’s childhood and adventures flowing freely. Wyll no longer felt the weight of his earlier anxieties. Instead, he felt a sense of peace, knowing that the two most important people in his life had found common ground. Even if that ground happened to be poking fun at him, he would take it, happily.

By the end of the night, as Ulder bid his farewells, Wyll stood by your side, his arm draped over your shoulder. He glanced down at you, his heart full of gratitude and love. You caught his eye, your expression softening in that way it only did when it was just the two of you.

“Thank you,” Wyll whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple. “For everything.”

You gave him a small, satisfied smile, leaning into his warmth. “Of course, Wyll. I’ll always have your back.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Drow reader is back back back again, hope you guys enjoyed this ! - Seluney xox

If you want to support me in other ways | Help keep this moonmaiden caffeinated x

[heich0e]

Trick or treat!! :3 may I come to you humbly asking about choso… have a lovely night Liv!

happy halloween to u both!! he is the greatest treat of all <3

"We don't have to watch this, you know."

At the other end of the sofa, Choso sits incredibly stiffly. He's as close to the edge of his seat as he could possibly be, his knees very nearly knocking against the edge of the coffee table which sits in the centre of your living room—poised halfway between the couch and your television, which is currently a mere twenty minutes into the horror movie the two of you had decided to sit down and watch that evening.

Well, maybe saying the two of you decided is a bit generous; but when you had suggested it—having heard nothing but rave reviews about it from one of your coworkers a few days prior—Choso had obliged you without question.

"No," Choso replies, his voice a little strained. He peeks over at you from the corner of his eye, his lips curling up in an unconvincing little smile. His eyes return back to the screen where one of the tertiary characters is in the process of being brutally slain. "It's alright. I'm... enjoying it."

But perhaps therein the issue lies.

Choso always obliges you. And now, you recognize it may be to his own detriment.

"Choso," you call to him softly, and he peeks over at you again. Your living room is dark save for the cool blue light from the television screen, and it bathes him in a gentle, almost ethereal glow. You push yourself up on your hands and knees, creeping down to the other end of the couch towards him. He welcomes your intrusion without any reservation, effortlessly accommodating the way you curl into his side and toss your legs into his lap so they drape over his own.

Another nameless character on the screen meets their bloody demise, but this time Choso doesn't stifle a flinch—his attention is on you.

"It's kinda scary," you say, letting your lip jut out just enough that it doesn't seem overly feigned. You scrunch up your nose and then lean further into him, burying your face in the collar of his hoodie. You mumble a quiet, I don't think I like this, into the fabric for good measure.

Choso's hand creeps upwards, his thumb tracing a delicate shape into your skin as his sweeps his palm along your back comfortingly. You grip the material of his sweatshirt in your fist as you turn your body into his just a little bit more, practically chest-to-chest and straddling one of his strong thighs now as he holds you.

When you peek up towards him, lifting your face from the crook of his neck, you see the way his lips are parted and glossy—like his tongue only just laved across them—and his dark eyes are fixed raptly to you.

"You were so excited about watching this, though," he murmurs softly, his deep voice reverberating through his chest and into yours, and the sound makes something kindle in the pit of your stomach. His lashes flutter in a blink, and you inch a bit closer to him unconsciously until your lips are almost level with his own.

"Yeah," you sigh the word softly, and Choso inhales responsively as if to share the breath. You use your grip on his hoodie to pull yourself a bit more firmly against him, a subtle but intentional roll of your hips that makes the highest points of his cheeks stain in a pretty pink blush that's stark in contrast to the television's blue light. "But there are other things I'm excited about too, y'know."

(@antique-remains)

[impala-dreamer]

Captives of The Court - Chapter One

A Supernatural Series

~Strange things are brewing in Connecticut, so Dean and Y/N go check it out. After stumbling through town, they fall into something that’s been going on a very, very long time. Can they put an end to the bloodshed and make it out unscathed or will they need a little help this time?~

Starring Dean Winchester x Y/N Y/L/N

Chapter One Word Count: 529

Series Warnings and Info may be found on the Masterlist Here 

Impala-Dreamer’s Masterlist  ~  Patreon  ~ Published Works

The room was dark but it was easy to see once her eyes adjusted. Tall tapers and fat pillars filled every flat surface, circling the room with a delightful glow, and the flames danced like fireflies in the darkness. They twinkled at random and the illusion was mesmerizing.

There was a sweet scent in the air, something delicious that lingered in her nose, filling her senses with a sensual hunger. There were hints of something rich like warm butter and freshly baking bread. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it but the idea of finding out had lodged itself in her head and forced her to wake. She shook herself and blinked into the dim light, confused but somehow unafraid.

Y/N groaned loudly as the room came into view. Her head was swimming, body tingling with electricity. She tried to move but the carpet around her was so soft, the pile deep and comforting as it cradled her naked flesh.

“W-what’s going on-”

Her question faded into a strangled cry as a wave of pleasure washed up from her cunt. She bit down into her lip and raised her head just enough to see the top of Dean’s head. His face was buried between her thighs, bobbing up and down as he licked thick stripes through her wet lips. His hair was damp and matted, his green eyes glazed and unblinking as he worked.

She squirmed, wanting to pull away, but his big hands shot up from underneath her ass and locked around her thighs like cuffs. His fingers slid down to spread her sex wider and Dean sealed his plump, hot lips around her clit.

“Oh fuck- Dean!” Her breath caught and she pushed herself up, elbows disappearing into the thick carpet. She bucked her hips against his mouth as the pleasure built higher and her muscles grew tighter.

There was no reaction from her lover. No smug smirk, no proud chuckle, no teasing glance. He worked like a machine tasked with making her cum and nothing more. She could barely feel his breath on her skin, almost as if it wasn’t there.

Something was off with him and Y/N squinted at his face, trying to figure it all out as the questions churned in her mind.

Where are we?

How did we get here?

What the fuck is going on?

Dean’s tongue flickered against the tip of her clit and Y/N couldn’t help the contractions it caused inside her body. Her pussy clenched at nothing and her whimper echoed around them. The pleasure was too strong, too enthralling. Another pull from his mouth and Y/N sank back down into the carpet. Her arms fell limp at her sides, her knees dangled over Dean’s broad shoulders. She trembled and struggled to think but the suction of his mouth was too much, the heat of his tongue too thrilling.

Thick fog settled in her mind as the sweet smell of oven-fresh bread wove its way through the air and wrapped itself around her.

A hard orgasm broke through her body and Y/N’s mind went blank, her eyes fluttering closed as her body quaked.

[k-nayee]

CHAPTER 1.5 CHANGES

❝All great changes are preceded by chaos.❞

Vespertilio M.List

Previous | Next

ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˏ⸉ˋ‿̩͙‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙.·͙*̩̩͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩̥͙　✩　*̩̩̥͙˚̩̥̩̥*̩̩͙‧͙ .‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ‿̩̥̩‿̩̩̥͙̽‿̩͙ˊ⸊ˎ

AGE: 8

Midoriya Izuku lays on the ground in tears.

While small scratches and bruises covered his skin from Bakugo and his followers' attack, the large gash across his palm caused him the most pain.

'Am I really that useless because I'm quirkless? Is Kacchan right?'

As he continues to cry on the ground in sadness, darkness falls over him.

He curls into a smaller ball, convinced his bullies were coming back for more. 'Wouldn't be the first time.'

"Hey...are you alright?"

The new voice compels the young boy to look up. Through the haze of his tears, Midoriya faintly sees a small figure.

"Y-yeah," he quickly wipes away his tears, embarrassed that someone saw him like this, "I'm okay."

Vision finally cleared, he looks up once more.

Flowers.

Pale pink flowers are the first thing he sees.

They're scattered throughout the strands of your hair, making you appear ethereal in the sunlight. 'Is she a fairy?'

"Doesn't look like it." You look down at him in concern before squatting to his height. With you close enough, a strong scent apple surrounds him.

Packet of wipes taken out of your backpack, you start gently cleaning up his injuries.

Using your distracted focus as a chance to observe you, Izuku's gaze shifts from your concentrated expression to the delicate flowers adorning your hair.

They're familiar, comforting in a way that tugs at the edges of his memory. Then it hits him—a flicker of recognition stirring a quiet joy in his heart. 'Could it be?'

The flowers...

They were unmistakably similar to the one he found in his cubby last week, the latest addition to his invaluable collection of pressed flowers.

Hana, Izuku recalls briefly, the notebook he made in dedication to these cherished gifts several month ago—hidden away in his bedroom.

Though he still received a flower every now and then, the details of the person who gave him the first one were blurry; as it never progressed beyond those fleeting moment of kindness.

He only remembers she was a girl who was nice to him, leaving behind a single cheery blossom—the flower that started it all.

"Sorry!" You pull away with a sheepish grin, "I almost forgot to ask. Hope you don't mind me doing this."

It took a few moments for the poor boy to regain his bearings; too caught up in a swirl of thoughts while still too shy to speak, Izuku could only nod.

You perk up at his cooperation before continuing to clean him up.

Izuku could only sit there dumbfounded as you carefully wipe away the dirt smudges and tear marks from his face.

"These flowers... I've seen them before," he whispered, more to himself than to you.

You pause for a moment, movements stilling your eyes meeting his. There's depth in your gaze, a hint of recognition, but you say nothing.

"Aaaaaaaaand done!" Taking a step back, your eyes sparkle with pride at how much better he looks now.

"T-thank you..." The greenette mutters, cheeks taking on a fiery red glow "...a-and my name is Midoriya Izuku. Izuku is fine."

Instead of offering your own, you simply smile with a knowing glint in your eyes. "I know..."

The words hung in the air, a mix of familiarity and mystery.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch your name," Izuku presses. A part of him, hopeful, almost desperate part, wanted to know if you were her: the girl who, though a brief presence in his life, left a lasting impact.

Your response, however, was not what he expected. Your smile widens just a bit, as if amused by his question. "It's not important. What matters is that you're okay now."

Before he could say more, you interrupt in with an offer of your hand. "Alright! We need to get the dust off your clothes. C'mon."

As you help the freckled boy off the ground, he lets out a cry. You immediately drop his hand in surprise.

"What's wrong?!"

"M-my hand," he softly stutters through tears, pain returning full force with a sting.

Your confusion turns into sorrow at the sight of the gash going across his hand.

With quick movements, the blood on your palm is wiped unto your dress before you tenderly grab his to get a look closer.

'Hmmm...so that's why he smelled so sweet...'

"A-are you alright? You seem off..." Izuku's voice fades the longer you stare at the cut on his skin, thoughts drifting to how good it smells.

'I wonder if it tastes just as sweet... A little won't hurt right?'

Mind foggy from the scent, you fail to hear Izuku's cry of shock.

It wasn't until a sweet tangy explosion filled your mouth did you finally snap out of it.

"Huh?" You meet the wide eyes of a disturbed and concerned Izuku as he held his hand to his chest. "Izuku?"

When you take a step towards him, he quickly takes one back, causing a hurt looks to flash across your face. "Is something wrong, Izuku? Are you hurt?"

He avoids your gaze with a shake of his head. "N-nothing wrong. It's just that you, um....y-you..."

The toll of his constant stammering and stretching of reply makes you to frown in annoyance. "What is it!?"

"Y-you licked my hand!"

You freeze at his words. The faint flavor of sweet metallic on your tongue proves his words to be true.

"I...I" Your mouth is covered in shock, eyes burned in shame at what you've done.

'I licked his hand?!'

'I never tasted blood before. I shouldn't have!'

'I'm...I'm a freak!'

"Wha—"

"Sorry," You weakly choke out, bolting away as shame washed over, backpack forgotten in favor of getting home from it all.

Still trying to process what just happened, Izuku could only stare after you, a sense of loss washing over him.

It's then, in the silence of your absence did his mind begin to race. And as he began to reflect on the encounter, did the pieces start to fall in place: The flowers...your gentle care...the fleeting moments of connection—how could he have been so blind?!

Why did it take you running away for him to start connecting the dots? Heck he have the same type of flower that's in your hair pressed in his precious Hana book!

As Izuku stood there, pangs of regret for not realizing sooner filled his heart.

The kindness you showed him, both in the past and now, had been a beacon during his darkest times; yet he had failed to recognize the person behind it until it was too late.

Seeing your abandoned backpack, hope is reignited. Yeah, he can do this.

With renewed purpose, Izuku ball his hands into fists. He'll find you again, and this time he won't let you slip through his fingers.

'Wait...the pain...'

With furrowed brows, he flips his hand to see the 'injured' palm only for his mouth to gape open.

The cut...

It's gone?!

═════════════════*˚✿❀༓❀✿˚*══════════════════

AGE: 11

It was a bright and beautiful day.

The sun was shining, bathing everything in its path with welcoming warmth; a blessing it was for the stressed students who were leaving school to experience such a calming view.

At least that's what Izuku believed as he saw the little pink petals of Sakura Blossoms floating in the gentle winds, reminding him of the "first" time he saw you.

His cheeks flushed at the memory of your giggles when he later confessed his initial belief of you being a fairy at first glance.

It was safe to say that even after the whole 'lick the hand' situation, the two of you still became besties. He would even call it fate that eight-year-old you left your backpack behind.

The excitement that filled his body when he found an 'if lost' tag containing your name and address nearly surpassed the All Might figurine he received for Christmas.

He never did bring up what you did. Wanting to avoid it so that you won't become upset or embarrassed, he told you his mom took him to a nurse when you saw his healed hand.

Yet why did he still have his other bruises if he got healed?

"Well well well...would you lookie here guys? Quirkless Deku in the flesh." The smile on the freckled boy's face immediately disappears at a familiar taunting voice.

Slowly turning away from the peaceful view, he's faced with three of his four bullies.

____ would usually call them the Three Followers or Bakugo's Groupie since they were never too far from the arrogant boy.

Even so, that never prevented them from actively messing with him on their own terms.

Like today for example.

The biggest of the three walks up to the greenette with a crooked grin before pushing the smaller boy to the ground.

A cry of surprise leaves Izuku at the sudden action.

He looks up and meets the beady eyes of his attacker as they gleam with malicious intent. The nameless boy could only let out a fake sigh of disappointment.

"Must be hard being quirkless. Unable to stand up for yourself, to be so weak. Speaking of weak, where's your little girlfriend?"

Izuku curls into himself at the snickering of the other two, face burning in a fiery red.

Flashes of your cute fanged smile flood his brain causing an unintelligible squawk to leave his trembling lips. 'G-girlfriend?!'

"S-she's n-not my g-girlfri-"

"Right here," your usually soft voice was hardened as it cut through the air, "heard you were looking for me."

The scent of citrus orange assaulted his senses before you came to view.

Even from the ground, he was able to take in the vivid sight of tiny orange blossoms nestled in your hair, the white petals contrasting against the pinkness of the Sakura trees all around.

"Aww, the rat with wings is trying to protect the weak? Look Deku, your girlfriend is here to save the day!"

Your hands ball into fists. To make fun of your bat quirk is one thing, but to call Izuku useless and hurt him for no reason?!

A shadow covers your eyes as they continue to throw in more taunts and jabs at the both of you (mainly Izuku).

'How dare they! To hurt what belongs to me...to hurt what is MINE!!'

The air surrounding you turns cold, so heavy with pressure it almost becomes difficult to breathe in.

The once healthy flowers in your hair suddenly wilt and fall to the ground. Silvery white bleeds into your locks until no strand of [hair color] is left behind.

"Really? It takes all three of you to defeat one person? How utterly pathetic." Even your voice changed, taking on a tone of pure ice and arrogance.

"__-___...." You turn at the choked sound of Izuku's surprise causing his eyes to grow even wider.

Your eyes.

Demon is the first thing that comes to mind as he holds eye contact with you.

[Eye color] is replaced with the color of blood red. The slitted pupils in your new eyes thin as they take in his dirty form laid on the ground.

Calls from the bullies fall on deaf ears as you walk over to the freckled boy, a sneer of disgust pulling at your lips.

Grabbing his hand, you pull him up with an incredible amount of strength no regular ten-year-old should have (without a strength quirk that is). "From now on, 'Moka' will suffice. It’s simpler this way, for both of us."

"A-ah! W-well Moka-san...h-how did you get here? Where is ____?"

"Simply Moka. And to answer your question," you ignore his flustered cries when you began to dust off his clothes,"I have always been there. ____ is me and I am ____. This...is merely another side of me, emerged after I first tasted your blood. It seems I've now gained enough strength to manifest fully."

"O-oh..."

You take a step back and assess his injuries, giving a stiff nod when seeing he wasn't too hurt. "Midoriya, you need to get stronger. Having such low-lives push you around is almost as bad as bullying. I won't always be by your side to protect you."

"Low-lives?? You think just because ya got a new look you're above us?!"

The bullies flinch at your sharp gaze when you turn around to face them. "Indeed, I do. Shall I repeat myself? You're nothing, the bottom of the barrel who clings to the coattails of someone with actual prowess. So I say this once again: you are sniveling weak minded low-lives."

The same one who pushed Izuku steps up with a red face, body shaking from humiliation. "You'll regret that you..."

He takes a step back, enlarging his fist with the intent to strike. "....YOU BITCH!"

Izuku face pales at the sight of the huge fist drawing back and swinging, directly towards your still frame.

"Moka!" Tears prickle his closed eyes in avoidance of seeing you get hurt.

But...

...why doesn't he hear anything?

Opening his eyes to see what happened, Izuku's jaw drops.

You caught the punch?!

The trio of bullies' faces pales at the sight of you holding the bigger-than-average fist with a single hand. "B-but how?! No one's strong enough to catch my super punch!"

"Oh dear, is this truly the extent of your power? Poor thing..." Your red eyes take on a sinister glow, lips pulled into a venomous smile revealing a set of lethal fangs.

"My turn~"

| |

"Akashiya ____!!"

Walking through the front door, the first thing you see is your frantic mother as she paces the floor. "Why has the school contacted me that you've sent three boys to the hospital?!"

You say nothing, face set in a stern and apathetic expression.

Taking your silence as an answer, she whirls around with a wagging finger, ready to scold you some more. "Did you hear me?! Not only are they threatening to call the cops, but the school...is..."

Her words die out upon seeing your silver hair. "...well damn."

At the sudden jiggling of the front doorknob, you both turn in time to see your father step into the house. "I came home as soon as you told me what...happened..."

His words trail off at the sight of your now silver hair, a matching shade of his own. "...well damn."

"Honey," your mother begins to pace once more as she eyes your flowerless head and blood-red eyes, "w-why does she have your hair and eyes?"

Your father says nothing, instead kneeling down to meet your gaze.

Despite his face being stoic of emotion, his eyes revealed a mix of concern and a strange sense of pride. "__—"

"Call me Moka. Even though I'm still ____, I'd prefer Moka for now to prevent identity confusion."

"Moka," your father accepts your other name with a nod, "can you tell me who's blood you consumed for your powers to manifest like this?"

Your mother stiffens at his question with wide eyes. "Wait...did you say blood?! S-she shouldn't have, right? She only eats fruits like me...r-right?!"

You both ignore her existential crisis and continue with the conversation. "It was two years ago when I reunited with Midoriya Izuku; he had a cut on his hand and was bleeding. Unfortunately, I lost control for a moment and went for my desires. Embarrassed by what I've done, I ran home. Hence why I was so upset that day."

Your gaze cast down for a moment to showcase your shame before going blank face once again.

The revelation leads to a moment of silence until it's broken by the sigh of your father as he gets up and leaves to the back of the house.

Your mother finally calmed, walks up to you and caresses your pale hair, internally crying at the loss of your flowers. "Oh sweetie, are you okay? Why didn't you tell us about this?"

"Yes, I am okay. And I refused to tell you because of how easily I lost my composure. Had I been stronger..."

She gives you a hug causing the scent of fresh lemons to engulf you, the small white lemon blossoms you spot in her greying hair melts away any self-anger you had.

The sound of your father's footsteps breaks you out of the hug. You look up to see him with a red velvet box in hand.

Kneeling as he has done before, he opens the box revealing a steel rosary laying next to a black choker.

"This was mine when I was around your age, possibly younger. My father- your grandfather - was an inventor, and created this to keep my powers under control. It's made of quirk suppressing material." Taking the choker out of the box first, he fastens it around your neck.

"I'll admit, the moment I found out your mom was pregnant, I sent it to him to modify it just in case you ever did have my powers. After the first year or two, you only seemed to have your mother's fruit bat quirk, but it seemed my intuition paid off after all."

Once making sure the choker was in place, he picks up the rosary.

"Now Moka, there are certain things you must know before putting this on: those who share blood relations, such as me and your mom, and your blood bonds are the only ones who can remove it. In that case, Midoriya holds that responsibility as your blood bond. No one else will be able to take it off, not even you."

Your brows furrow. "Why is that?"

"Although there are only me and you, our vampire bat quirk holds strong abilities. And with yours being dormant for so long, you are exceptionally strong. So until you are mature enough to handle a situation where you won't constantly use your powers, this will keep you in check. Not to worry. If there's ever a life-or-death occasion where neither us nor Midoriya is present, the rosary will deactivate for a certain amount of time."

Nodding your head in agreement with the rules, you grab the rosary and hook it onto the choker.

A wave of vertigo suddenly hits you as your red eyes shift back to [eye color].

Your silver hair turns back into its original [hair color] shade, new orange blossoms budding back into its strands with a scent of citrus orange wafting off you once more.

You fall to the ground with a thud causing your mother to let out a cry of shock.

Your father sheepishly scratches the side of his face. "Oops, I forgot to mention the fainting spells due to lack of energy. We should probably get her a glass of blood and start implementing it into her daily diet."

She whacks him in the back of the head with a glare. "Ya think?!"

[the-void-writes]

“you’re so pretty when you lie to me”

Hello hello friendo 💖 So we were talking about writing more unhinged stuff, and thanks to you I managed to develop Aphelion’s awfulness more lol. Thank you so much for the motivation and inspo, and I hope this isn’t too unhinged 😅

For All Eternity - The Moon King’s Madness

Summary: Paradise Era— Will has been taken by King Aphelion Sapphirus, a Celestial who hates humanity. His delusions have convinced him that any Freak with strong enough powers are Celestials trapped in mortal forms, so he makes it his job to set them free through fatal methods.

WC: 3K

TW: Many descriptions of body horror (both shapeshifting and a vivisection). Also if you don’t like reading about people being held prisoner, or violent and manipulative love interests, then this isn’t for you.

Days flew by so fast that Will couldn’t tell them apart anymore. He would wake up in that miserable bedroom, with the view of freedom a million miles below him, and the minutes would blur together after that. Feasts with the Celestials, tours around the palace that he was meant to share, hours strapped to a table in the darkness as the god that claimed to love him tried time and time again to cut through his mortal cage and release his cosmic spirit…

Aphelion’s singular glowing eye pierced the darkness, the only part of him that Will could see, aside from the blazing hot blade in his hands. His voice scratched the inside of Will’s head, drowning out the ringing in his ears.

“I know it hurts,” he said. “You’re doing so well, my dear. If I can just get through this section of veins…”

The blade hit Will’s skin once more, filling his nose with the smell of burnt flesh. His throat was already raw from screaming, made worse by the waves of energy that tore through him. It was his body’s natural defense mechanism— His years with Vesely had taught him that.

Starlight cut clean down the center of his chest. The air touched his open skin with the grace of an old friend. Finally, the cutting stopped, and Aphelion waited anxiously. This was the moment of truth for all his hard work and research. If all went to plan, Will’s “Celestial soul” would at last be free.

That was when Will felt his insides shift. Dozens of little growths stretched and connected like the threads of an old doll. They twisted and pulled, and in no time at all, Will had been stitched back together. His saving grace, Vesely’s Infection— it wouldn’t let him die. He was too good of a host.

The air grew thick and warm as Aphelion threw the blade into the darkness. His yell shook the entire room.

“DAMN YOU, CURSED PARASITE!”

Tears ran down Will’s face. He had never been more thankful to be sick. His whole body flinched as he felt Aphelion’s large hand cradle his head, still invisible in the darkness.

“Forgive me, my darling… I’ve failed you.”

There were several long footsteps, and then he was gone. Will cried in the dark for what felt like forever before a group of Aphelion’s glowing handmaidens came to collect him. He didn’t remember the trip back to his room, only the spinning in his head and the feeling of bile rising in his ruined throat.

Finally, he was back in his bed. The handmaidens finished cleaning the new scar on his chest, and left him to recover in his room for the rest of the night. They never said a word to him, perhaps out of fear of the king. Aphelion had a bizarre temperament when it came to Will. He was as soft as possible around the small mortal, but if anyone else showed interest in him, the moon god had no trouble disposing of them. According to the sparse whispers of other Celestials, Aphelion had devoured one of their kind for daring to look at Will for longer than a minute.

The mattress consumed Will as he laid down and watched the stars outside. If someone had told him as a boy that he would one day be sickened by the sight of the cosmos, he would have thought them insane. His hopes and dreams of exploring the galaxy, flying among stardust, discovering new worlds and species… All of it was squandered each time Aphelion took his wretched scalpel to Will’s chest.

He tried to take this brief moment of peace to think, but his mind had been reduced to a handful of thoughts: hating Aphelion, missing Dante, and praying for death to finally claim him, to reunite him with his family. All he wanted was an end to the torture.

His heart dropped as he heard the door open. He leapt up and leaned against the bedpost, hoping he had enough energy to run to the washroom and lock it before the handmaidens could grab him. He was only due for one ritual a week, that was what Aphelion swore to him, the one promise Will trusted him to keep. Vesely’s Infection put his body through too much stress, so Aphelion had to stop and let him recover. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing Will before he could be free. As horrifically misguided as he was, there was indeed a part of him that loved the young Divine.

Will’s heart sank further down as a pale, crooked hand pushed the door open carefully. Aphelion’s human disguise was far from perfect. He was thoroughly disgusted by humanity, so his understanding of appearance and proportions were approximations, at best. Discolored patches of skin were hastily sewn together, sagging and twisting around a nonexistent skeletal form. Space dust and starlight shifted under the skin, churning like water beneath his cosmically-decorated hanfu. He towered over Will, whose height just barely reached where the Moon King’s ribs would be. Pale pink hair hung perfectly within a series of hairpins, pulling it tight enough to stretch the corners of his face. It was a mockery of a human being, a suit that was designed purely to give him more time with Will.

“Ah, you’re awake.” His voice still shook inside Will’s head, with the underlying discomfort of nails scratching glass. “How are you feeling?”

“Do I have to go back?” Will asked, struggling to stand upright and not fall back into the preferable softness of the bed.

Aphelion smiled and mustered an unpleasant laugh. His eyes flickered with what Will assumed was warmth. They were less eyes, per say, and more two distant stars floating in the darkness that hid under the god’s human suit. Will could see the hollow sockets behind the light, two miniature universes peering out at him.

“We’re done, I promise you. Until we can figure out how to destroy this parasite, I’m afraid we’ll have to put the ritual on hold.”

Will let his shoulders fall as he tried to smother his relief. The last thing he wanted to do was give his host— his captor— a reason to continue his work.

“Please forgive me, my dear,” Aphelion said, confusing his silence with disappointment. “I know it’s insufferable, but by the end of it all, you’ll be free.”

“I’ll be dead, sir. I’m not a god.”

“You don’t truly believe that, do you?” Aphelion moved forward carefully, sweeping his legs like a peacock unsure of its steps. “If you were anything as simple and lowly as a human, you would never have survived this long. Your sickness, your isolation, the years of abuse from your father—”

“Don’t talk about him,” Will spat.

Aphelion smiled. “Forgive me, I know it’s a sensitive subject. We can talk about something else.”

“I don’t want to talk.”

The god’s smile faltered. Will braced himself for a swift mood swing, for the handmaidens to come barreling in and pull him back into the ritual room, but that moment never came. The fear in waiting seemed more unbearable than the pain itself.

“I understand your frustrations, you know.”

Will raised his eyebrow. “Do you?”

“You’re displeased with me. I disgust you.” He raised his hand up. “Please, I get it. These human forms are so limiting and fragile.”

“What?” Will shook his head. “I don’t hate your… appearance.”

The god chuckled to himself. “You don’t have to pretend. It makes me nauseous just putting it on.”

“Then why do it?”

“For you, of course. If I can’t free you yet, then I’ll bind myself in this prison of flesh. Anything to see you and make you happy.”

Will wasn’t quick enough to stop himself. “I was already happy with my friends— with Dante. He was my home.”

Tears stabbed the corners of his eyes. He missed Paradise so terribly, even the noise and the parties that never seemed to end. He missed sleeping in with the love of his life and heading out for lunch together before retreating back home to avoid the crowds. After years of heartbreak, Will had finally found peace, and it was taken away from him for the third time in his life.

He pushed himself into the bedpost as Aphelion stepped closer, trying and failing to avoid the clawed hand running through his hair.

“It truly pains me to see you this distraught,” Aphelion said. “A man like that was never worth your time. He never even came up to see you.”

“Because you won’t let anyone up here!”

“But he never even bothered to ask for you. What monster would abandon the supposed love of his life?”

Will shut his eyes and tightened his fists. He knew Dante better than that. This was a man who had gone into a heist with a fatal fever, all for the sake of the kids in his neighborhood. If he hadn’t come to bargain for Will, it was because he was planning something. Dante would never abandon him. He wasn’t like Dan…

“If your heart still aches for him,” Aphelion said, “perhaps I can assist with that?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Watch, my dear.”

There was a sick popping noise, and Will watched as the moon king’s long form shrank and twisted. The discolored skin grew dark, and his long pink hair turned black and curly, until Will was looking at his love again, at his Dante. It was his beautiful smile, his golden scars from the Infection… but the glowing yellow eyes belonged to Aphelion, and the skin around his face was still pinched tight.

“What do you think?” he asked in Dante’s low, smooth voice. “It’s so much easier when you have a base to work off of. Is this better for you? Not as repulsive?”

Will fell back onto the bed, unable to speak. It was wrong, it was so sickeningly wrong. He could barely shake his head. Aphelion read the look in his eyes and shrugged.

“That’s alright. Mister Briggs isn’t exactly my style, anyway. How about something simpler?”

With the snap of his fingers, his fake skin shifted and snapped into plastic. Cold joints and wires mocked the human muscular system, until Will was face-to-face with the android he had once fallen for. It was a perfect replica of Dan, save for his sick yellow eyes. A mixture of longing and anger stung his chest.

“How?” Will asked. “How the hell do you know what he looks like?!”

“I saw him in your dreams.” His voice box crackled just as Dan’s did, but Aphelion’s tone still seeped through like poison. “I didn’t mean to wander in there, but your thoughts were deafening.”

“You— You were in my head?”

“Yes, and I saw how terribly he treated you. The real Daniel was a fool. We could start over, now that your mind is intact. I can be what he never could.”

Will clenched his teeth. “I don’t want to start over.”

“Fair enough, my dear. He’s a tad too numb for my taste.”

The android’s casing melted off of Aphelion’s starlit body, quickly covered by a new layer of dark skin. Glowing, predatory eyes shone through the glasses that now rested on his broad nose. Thick, coiled hair sprouted from the top of his head. Will’s stomach wrenched violently at the sight of Aphelion, whose cosmic form rippled under Colin’s skin, glowing like magma.

“Your first love. You cared deeply for him, from what I remember.”

Will practically stumbled against the bed frame, fighting the urge to be sick. He had almost forgotten how soft-spoken and gentle Colin was, but he knew these drawn-out sentences weren’t his. Colin spoke quickly and to the point, and furthermore, he never watched anyone with a look as predatory as that of the moon god. Will refused to look at Aphelion until he was back in his own ragged skin.

“Nothing?” he asked. “Is it the boy’s age? I know he looks young, but I’ve been alive for centuries, Will. There’s no harm done.”

“That’s sick, Saph— Sick in the head.”

“You were in love with him, yes? It could be as though he never left you.”

“You think I want that? You think I’m going to fall in love with you because you’re wearing my old boyfriend like a fucking ballgown?!”

Aphelion tapped a clawed finger against his chin, with all the casual grace of a man pondering his plans for dinner. He closed his eyelids limply over the hollow sockets. Will’s head buzzed and his stomach twisted— the god was reading his thoughts. It was so much worse compared to the warm cloud that would surround his mind whenever Dante read from him. Aphelion’s power felt as though someone was taking a fork to his mind and scooping out the insides.

“Ah,” the god said, “I’ve found something better.”

His body snapped and jerked, and for a while, Will couldn’t see much of a difference in his appearance. He was still tall and pale, still wriggling under false skin. His nose seemed longer, and his eyes were larger and rounder, but nothing too drastic had changed.

Then his pink hair grew darker, a deep wine color turning into dark cherry. Now, it was a near perfect match, like an old photograph that had just been misplaced in the wash, elongating all of the features. The only pieces missing were the snow-colored eyes.

“How is this?” His soft voice pierced Will’s heart. “Barely even a change, right? He’s perfect.”

Anger burned through Will’s body, powered by the sickness in his veins. In the blink of an eye, he lunged at Aphelion, pushing him to the ground.

“GET OUT OF HIS BODY!” Will screamed. “RIGHT NOW!”

A wave of energy burst from his throat as he yelled, cracking the floor below Aphelion’s head. The moon king struggled to gain his bearings.

“Will— please calm down!”

Will’s throat burned as he cried. He could still see Jason’s cold, stiff, colorless face as he laid still in his grasp. Blood and feathers and bullets littered the floor around them. The more he remembered, the further his powers forced the god into the tile work.

“This is for you,” Aphelion said, fighting through his chokehold. “You loved him, and they took him from you. I can bring him back to you, it’s no problem for me—”

“GET OUT!”

“Don’t tell me it’s not true! Don’t tell me you don’t love him, I’ve seen it! You love him so much, you wish you had died instead!”

Aphelion struggled in his grasp— Jason struggled, terrified of the man looming above him. An expression he never wanted to see on his godfather… Will quickly released his powers and backed up against the bedpost, leaving Aphelion to catch his breath— How could a god like him even breathe?

Will curled up on the floor, holding his head in his hands. He longed for the ritual, for the scalding blades that cut his chest open, anything other than this.

“Dearest,” Aphelion said, still in his stolen voice, “you’re hurting so much. I don’t blame you.”

Will refused to speak. A clumsy claw ran through his hair, and he was too tired, too frightened, to push it away.

“You shouldn’t have to suffer anymore. I can stay like this for you, until we can finally set you free. It’s easy, really. You don’t have to repress your emotions. I’m all yours, however you want me.”

Those words, in that voice, were the push Will needed to slap Aphelion back onto the floor, hard enough to force him back into his original skin. Aphelion was speechless, grazing his fingers over his reddened cheek. Will’s stare could have shot clean through the Celestial.

“I hate you,” he said. “I hate everything about you. I don’t want to love you, and it’s not because of how you look. You can’t just hide behind the faces of people I loved. It will never change what you are— vile and wicked and cruel.”

Will rose to his feet before Aphelion could reach him. He stumbled towards the door, not at all concerned with where he was going or who would follow him. He just wanted to leave.

“Will—”

“Don’t you ever use my father’s face again. You don’t understand him, or what he meant to me. Stay out of his skin, or I swear on my life, I will find a way to kill you.”

Whatever had motivated him to stand up to Aphelion died the moment the god picked himself up off the ground and snatched Will’s wrist.

“Kill?” His voice shook the walls. “You think you can kill me with that broken little body? After everything I’ve done for you?!”

Will shielded his face in a way he hadn’t done since he was a young boy, cowering at the brutality of his birth father. He waited for the snap of a bone or the sting of a fist, but nothing came. When he opened his eyes, Aphelion looked mortified. He released Will’s hand slowly.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “My darling, I’m so sorry.”

Will avoided his pleading eyes. “Leave, please.”

“Of course.”

Aphelion slinked out of the room, and when his weak footsteps could no longer be heard, Will ran to the washroom and locked himself inside. He let his tears mix with the warm water in the sink, porcelain cracking under his hand as he gripped the edges, tighter and tighter until his fingers started to bleed.

He couldn’t live like this, teetering the edges of both his and Aphelion’s rage. If he could only convince his Infection to seek a new host, or give up completely, then he could find a way to die before the moon king got his hands on him again…

Will slapped himself with his own bruised hand. You jackass, he thought, you can’t give up. You’ll leave Dante all on his own. He took a breath and treated his hand with medicine from the cabinet. Get a hold of yourself, find a way out of here, and don’t stop until you’re back in his arms.

[honeyblonde8929]

Whispers In The Dark. Ellie x Reader Fanfic.

- Soft Romance. Mild Smut. Swearing. Smoking Green TW.

• You and Ellie sneak outside of Jackson and find a peaceful, secluded place surrounded by nothing but nature and the glistening moonlight appearing from the frosty horizon. You might be staring at the surroundings, but Ellie isn’t.

-

You were giggling as the both of you scurried into an isolated forest, not too far from Jackson, but far enough so no patrols will spot the both of you. The calls of an owl echoed in the tall trees looming over you. Suddenly, Ellie stopped in her tracks.

“Shit.” Ellie grunted. “I forgot my torch.”

You sighed slightly, rummaging through your pockets while lightly jogging through the meadow, hand in hand.

“Ah! I’ve got mine!”

You playfully waved it near her face and turned it on. It brightened the burnt orange grass. Footsteps crunching the leaves below.

“And I thought I was the smart one.”

Ellie made a small smile to her remark, knowing that you would make fun of her.

And you did.

“Hm, says the one who wears the same converses everyday AND washes her hair… what did you say? Once a week? Not very smart, or hygienic. ”

She scoffed at you, going back to the original pace.

“Did Joel tell you that?! Tell me, the next time I see him, I’m kicking his ass.”

“No, Ellie, you won’t! You love him too much to do that.”

Her eyes twinkled, it may be dark, but it’s hard to not see them.

They were goddamn captivating.

“Yeah, I do.”

She looked at you, maybe a second longer than what would be considered friendly. Your arm hairs pricked up, sending goosebumps down to your waist. It could easily be because of the cool winter breeze. Or was it her?

Yeah. Definitely her.

It didn’t take too long until you found the spot you were looking for. You remember when Ellie sat down by the rock that was only a few feet away from you and she showed you her tattoo. It was fine lined at the time, but the summers glow on the moth almost sparkled with the light. But now it was winter, just shows how quick months can pass by. Especially when you are her have been getting closer and the chemistry was brewing up from each encounter.

The both of you sat on the rock, overlooking the moonlight that shone down, reflecting on your pale skin. The bruises you had from the daily patrols turned into a violet purple as the sun swished behind the mountains. Ellie was beside you and let go of your hands to roll a joint. Her fingers were fiddling with the filter and the pouch of weed, the smell entangled the midnight air.

You turned your head towards her, licking your dry cracked lips.

“Do you think they’ll notice that we are gone for the night?”

Ellie was focused on her roll, giving a gentle shake of her head.

“Well… We haven’t been caught yet. Unless you get really high and start being a nuisance.”

“Pft! As if! I’m not the loud one!”

Then Ellie looked back at you, just at the corner of her eye. She raised her eyebrows.

“You changed something in me that night.”

And God, you did. Last year felt like yesterday. You got too drunk and high with Ellie. Swooning over her like a dog on heat. Your heart pounding and palms sweating from the passionate dance you both created. Being each others first time created a strong bond. It might have just been physical that time, but now, it has a chance to bloom into something deeper.

“I guess I did.”

You passed her the lighter and soon enough she inhaled the blunt, filling her lungs with natures plant and you couldn’t help but glare at the way her voice curled when she exhaled, it made you quiver, in a good way.

After a few tokes, she passed it towards you, you gladly accepted and quickly felt the similar effects. She always put a little bit too much weed, almost busting through the paper, but you didn’t mind. Despite a few coughs, which Ellie found amusing, your head started humming slightly that teased your eardrums. That high circulated you and you closed your eyes, taking in the atmosphere. Moments in an apocalypse don’t get much better than this.

Ellie coughed then scratched the right side of her temple.

“I love the way your hair flows. Y-you know, in the wind. When we are riding on patrols together, it makes me feel… well, I’m not sure yet.”

A tinge of blush warmed your cheeks. You didn’t except her to come out with that, as compliments were a mere hit or miss for her. It felt like a gift that she would open up to you now and again. Despite all of her pain and sorrowing trauma, there was a gentle flame flickering her heart that captured yours.

“Don’t think I haven’t noticed those glances you give me. That’s why I wear my hair down sometimes. Just for you.”

You had one last inhale before passing it back to Ellie and she quickly placed her lips on the joint. Looks like she needed the high quicker than she thought.

The freckles that covered her face would move with the smile she tired to hide in front of you. She can be so adorable, though you never told her.

The hallucinating effects now taking full hold of your body, slightly swaying with the rhythm of the rustling trees that were clinging onto the last leaves they held.

“It’s hard for me to say.” Ellie spoke after a small moment of silence.

“You really have been there for me, sure I have my friends, Joel, Tommy and Maria for advice.”

Then she placed her hand on top of yours.

“But you, you are my safe place. I… I really… fuck.”

Her sentence transformed into a whisper.

“After all our time together… I have fallen in-“

You wish you had the patience to let her finish but your mind went out the window and you clashed your now damp lips onto hers. Your long hair sweeping across her auburn layers, mixing into a sunset colourful ray. She wrapped her hands on your waist, feeling her calluses digging into your sides. You were now on top of her and stroked your thumb on her now flushed cheeks, you felt her smile growing from ear to ear. The wind picking up and feeling her muscles poking into the back of your spine. The heat radiating from your aching body was crying for her to explore every inch of you.

And she started doing just that.

[aloytalanaheverywhere]

“The seemingly endless night filled with confusion, battles, rage and red, so much red, had just begun its eerie bleed into the early dawn hours, skies becoming soft. As the team rested in well deserved slumber, or tended to each others’ wounds, allowed a chance to recover, Aloy stared listlessly at the campfire, anxiety gnawing something awful in her gut. She knew it wouldn’t abate until every member of her crew had returned from the fight that may as well have been a machine slaughter of the tribes.

It was quiet, almost deafeningly so, only sounds emanating from the crackle coming from the burning wood, the occasional spark snapping loudly in the peace, or a pained groan carried above in the chilly breeze. And then a small crunch came from behind her, quiet, growing, rhythmic and heavy. Aloy’s head shot up, hand instinctively landing over her bow’s riser, before stilling.

Stepping into the smokey vicinity, shadowed but washed in hazy lilac glow, the hunched form was unmistakable even before the warm glow of campfire cast over her weary expression. Brilliant turquoise Carja silk was still visible, a distinguishing enough feature on its own, but unnecessary to determine by familiar eyes. Such beautiful silks were also dyed dark with complimentary red; unnecessary as well.

Aloy shot up from her seat, reaching the Carja woman in brief bounds, hardly giving the huntress time to stand, let alone brace her tired body to absorb Aloy’s colliding force. Strong arms wrapped around her, squeezing breathtakingly tight, freckled face burrowing into the dirt-ridden skin of her neck and inhaling deeply. Relief washed over her at the sight, the feel, the scent, dousing her in a wave of chill water, prickling Aloy’s skin in response.

The lump in her throat, born out of hours filled with worry, bobbed uncomfortably and threatened to be breathed to life as a sob. But she fought back, stifled the tears which were welled and ready to spill. She had seen the wound, still fresh and angry, bleeding, dripping. She had seen the battered fatigue in the Sunhawk’s face. Aloy had to be strong. She could never reveal how weak she had felt all night not knowing if she’d see all of her friends again after that fight; if she’d see Talanah again.

But when she felt a hand lazily reach to her shoulders, threading through her unruly hair, holding, squeezing, anchoring them both with her last bit of strength before tiredly falling into Aloy’s supportive arms, Aloy let herself completely fall apart then too.”

idk the narrative idea came up as i was working on the drawing. if anyone wants to continue it and make it longer, go for it. just lemme know :) and yay i gotta digital art pad! fanart here we come

[saintsofwarding]

WE SHALL BE MONSTERS

Header by @trout-scout

Chapter 14: A Mirror

By the time the oncoming blizzard began to swirl over the sun, as if hiding its face in fear from the land below, Rose caught her first sight of the village.

It spread before them, surrounded on all sides by mountains, a protective wall of them cupping the valley like a pair of hands. She saw Castle Dimitrescu first; impossible not to, the structure stabbing itself from the landscape as if to claim the sky itself. In the morning light, the castle's spires glittered like the towers of that long-destroyed crystal city of Heisenberg's bedtime stories.

Rose stared, breathless, from Dimitrescu's back even as clouds skimmed her cheeks, soaking her hair. She and Donna were hunched low over Dimitrescu's pulsating flesh, and still the wind tore tears from her eyes and ripped at her skin like knives.

Before them the castle rose from its nest of mountains, of mist, magnificent and Gothic, something from a dream, or a nightmare.

Rose wasn't yet sure which.

"To hell with this blizzard," Dimitrescu snarled, her wingbeats churning at the clouds as a swirl of snow obscured their first sight of the castle. Rose felt the wind judder at her, so strong it tossed even her around. "I must make a landing."

"Fine by me," Rose called, but wasn't sure if Dimitrescu heard her.

She veered downward with a thrum of displaced air. Clouds rose around them, and as they broke through the dense layer, the ground burst into view, a dizzying spin of forest and mountain. The trees rose around them, and with a powerful backbeat that scattered snow and ripped pine needles from their boughs, Dimitrescu settled to all fours in a small clearing.

Rose half-fell off her back, legs cramping and frozen; she limped over to a tree to lean and wince. Behind her came the crack and growl of Dimitrescu's transformation, the air full of the powerful reek of blood and mutagen. By the time Rose turned back round, Dimitrescu knelt in the snow, breathing hard, rubbing her muscular arms.

"Is everything okay?" Rose asked her. Donna and Angie were speaking to one another in soft tones. Well- Donna's tone was soft, anyway. Angie seemed to be on par with a chihuahua in terms of lack of inside voice.

"I have been without blood for far too long," Dimitrescu muttered. Her eyes glowed golden beneath her sooty lashes; her face seemed gaunter than it had looked on the mountainside, dark circles cutting under those beautiful eyes. "In my hibernation, my body went into stasis, but now...after my transformation..."

Her eyes flicked up, meeting Rose's. "You smell far too delicious for safety, sweet child."

"Please don't eat me," Rose said.

She smiled. "Fortunately for you," she said, "I can control my urges..."

She lifted a hand and, delicately, drew her finger along Rose's jaw, ending, poised, just above the pulse point of her throat. "...For a time."

She rose to her full height as Donna and Angie approached.

"You hear that racket?" Angie said.

"The rush of water," Dimitrescu said.

She was right. Rose could hear it above the howl of the thickening blizzard, the snowy wind gusting in ripples and waves through the forest, like the sea in storm. Some kind of huge river?

"We're not too far from House Beneviento!" Angie crowed. "Home sweet home! Donna, you remember all the crazy stuff we got up to in there?"

Donna pressed her lips together.

"Anyway, we got all kinds of stuff all stored up in there. Get some better clothes than these nasty BSAA rags we're sporting. What do you say?"

"I've looked a shameful mess for far too long," Dimitrescu said.

"Yeah, we could use a place to rest and plan," Rose said.

Dimitrescu faced downhill, her head lifted. "Not for long," she murmured. "I need to regain my castle. To see what horrors time has wrought upon it. "

She made a scathing sound in her throat. "And to see how the elements have destroyed my beautiful home. If I ever see Redfield again, not even your promises will be enough to stop me from peeling him apart layer by layer."

"Let's..." Rose's teeth began to chatter. "Let's focus on the now, okay?"

"This way!" Angie called from the edge of the clearing, she and Donna already within the reaching shadows of the trees. "Over the river and through the woods...watch out for wolves, heh heh heh..."

Rose picked herself up and limped after them, Dimitrescu just behind her, filling the air with the faint tang of blood, the scent seemingly clinging to her inevitably.

The trees passed by, the wind dying down as they descended into the woods, scaly-barked pines transitioning to deciduous trees, twisted limbs entwined in a dense, frozen canopy overhead. Soon, the only sound was the crunch of their footsteps in the snow, Angie's low muttering, and a distant, thunderous roar, a vibration Rose felt in the soles of her feet.

Shapes swam through the fog, resolving into a collection of dilapidated buildings- sheds, Rose guessed, eyeing the clutter of equipment outside, the ruinous, frozen black rot inside of what appeared to have once been bags of potting soil.

A long string of bones clacked softly from a corner of the roof, stirred each time the breeze whispered through the forest.

She climbed over a collapsed fence after Donna. More shapes, more strange sights in the fog. Tripod trellises overgrown with a tangle of mutant plants, vines grown thick and ropy and strangling, the icy remnants of blue blossoms clinging to life. Wrought-iron fences, more outbuildings, gates standing askew, their bars warped and rusted by more than a decade of exposure to the elements.

A garden, Rose thought. Made sense- if Donna's powers relied on plants, then she'd want to cultivate as many as possible. Looking at the care with which this place had once been tended, though, she suspected it was more than for practicality's sake. There was an arboretum in one of the cities she'd lived in over the years, and this place reminded her of that long-ago garden. She'd gotten herself lost on the class field trip, and instead of getting scared, had wandered for hours through the trees, the paths unfurling before her, meandering and mesmerizing.

She glanced at Donna up ahead, but aside from a certain stiffness to her shoulders, she gave no indication of how she felt about being in this garden again.

A chill crawled through Rose's nerves as she caught sight of the first grave.

It rose from the snow beneath a tree, hung with yet more of those strange bone charms. A cracked, water-stained headstone, its engraving once-ornate, now illegible. Rose sensed a strange consciousness from it, a sleeping, hibernating energy, and stayed the hell away; even with Lady Dimitrescu at her back, she didn't want anything popping out and gnawing off her face.

"Such a tawdry little place," Dimitrescu muttered, looking around at the garden as they headed for a large iron gate on the far side. "Miranda always spoke at length to me about the one-time power and influence of the Family Beneviento. Nothing compared to House Dimitrescu, of course, but..." She tutted her tongue. "I'd expect more from nobility."

"I made do," Donna said simply, quietly.

"Made do," Dimitrescu echoed, as if this went against the foundations of her reality. "Can you imagine."

The gate came open with the squeal of rusted hinges, and they stepped down a short incline and into another clearing. In its center, a massive gravestone rose from a thicket of smaller graves, now so heaped with snow the foundations of the graves were almost completely buried. The big grave was taller than Rose, intricately, lovingly carved, the words on it mostly illegible, like the others. Rose only caught a few. Freed, bonds. Valley, death.

Donna lowered her head and moved right past it, but Rose lingered, climbing carefully between the graves to kneel and clear snow off the dais before the big stone. A cracked slab set into its surface read Claudia Beneviento, with a date of birth and of death.

Claudia.

Her throat stung. Donna's sister. This, she realized, was the girl Heisenberg had spoken of, so many years ago. The dead child, the girl he'd failed to save, in whose death he'd had a heavy hand. The one he'd loved like a daughter, or as close to that as he was capable.

She pressed her hand to the cold stone, but unlike the other grave, there was nothing beneath it. No pulse, no sleeping presence. Claudia was gone. There was no getting her back.

Maybe that was why Donna had hurried past without a second look. To stop here, to linger, was to relive again her failures. She'd had a hand in Claudia's death, too, or at least believed she did. In the end, Miranda was dead, and Donna was alive, and there was no one left to blame than herself.

A shadow fell over her. She looked up to find Dimitrescu standing just beyond the graves, her lashes lowered, her expression unreadable.

"Death is inevitable, child," she said. "Even to us. Whatever you seek to resurrect here...will never be what you most desire. Not truly."

A smile unfurled across her face, bitter and so flush with longing Rose felt its ache deep in her own chest.

"There's always a price for resurrection," Dimitrescu said, and moved on, after Donna.

With a last look at the child's grave, Rose followed them.

Before she joined them in the elevator, visible inside the open doors of the red gatehouse on the far side of the clearing, Rose paused. Something in her mind, Heisenberg's dreams, the memories to which he'd so fiercely clung despite Miranda's efforts to excise them.

The little compass came out of the sword with a clean snap of breaking metal. She returned to the grave and set it down, next to the frost-burnt flowers, the remains of what must have once been dolls, lumps of candle-wax.

It glittered, there, too new for this place, and yet still a promise to herself. A reminder. That even through hatred, and pain, suffering and manipulation, years of servitude and broken identity, once there was something good here. Once there had been love here. And there would be again, in some form, still undying.

***

The house rose from the mist of the great waterfall, a massive cataract flung from some shadowy source higher up the mountainside. A pretty house, with high peaked roofs now chewed with holes, a big wrap-around porch now overgrown with snow and creepers. As they approached, Rose heard the whistle of wind through a broken window.

With a shove and the crackle of breaking ice, Dimitrescu shoved the front doors wide. Darkness yawned within, the smell of damp, a silence, stifling; she ducked inside and strode into the darkness, but Rose lingered on the threshold, Donna by her side. She'd removed Angie from her backpack and cradled her in her arms, her one eye and Angie's three staring ahead into the house entryway.

"Together?" Rose whispered.

Donna gave an almost imperceptible nod.

Together, then. And it was together they entered, and together they moved about the room inside, its mezzanine level and its damp-ruined wood paneling, searching for lamps, closing shutters over the broken windows.

Somehow, Donna coaxed a couple lamps to light; the electricity was still running, the ancient wiring intact. The glow filled the hall with strange, leaping shadows, illuminating the dozens of scattered dolls and upturned chairs, the snow piling in corners, the icicles hanging from the distant ceiling.

A large framed portrait hung by the stairs was almost obscured by black mold, but Rose could still make out the faint shadows of forms on the canvas.

A Beneviento ancestor? Impossible to tell.

"I will make a fire," Donna said quietly. She pushed through a doorway and into a room beyond.

"I'm not staying in here," Dimitrescu said, her eyes sweeping the dilapidated hall. She had to bend almost double to wedge herself through the door, after Donna.

Rose stayed where she was. This place...again, that sting of familiarity, of knowledge. Once, those mold-scabbed wood panels had glowed with syrup light; once, music had echoed from the house's depths, scratchy and old-fashioned.

Take this. Keep it safe. And keep him occupied. Glory to me, child, remember that.

A flutter of yellow petals, as if blown in some phantom wind.

The dolls' eyes glittered from shelves and cabinets, watching her.

Rose stepped forward. A floorboard creaked on the stairs; she looked round, but the staircase was empty, the darkness unbroken.

You came here...

A glow of golden light off pale hands, clutching a rectangular flask to her heart.

Another pair of hands, bloodied and battered, three fingers sprouted from gory bandages, clutching that same flask as if it was the most important thing in the world.

And who are you now?

"Rose?"

The voice echoed from the dark. Rose whirled. The doorway, like the stairs, stood empty, the hallway beyond ordinary save for a smear of dried blood on the walls, black with age and furred with dust.

Pain sheared through her skull, rusty metal screaming in her ears-

She gave a cry, stumbling forward, but the pain was gone in an instant, leaving her ears ringing, her mouth dry. Movement flickered in the dark, the trace of a tan jacket, the glint of fair hair.

"Rose," came the voice again, soft and sing-song, as if calling her to bed.

"Dad?" Rose whispered.

Oh, god, was he alive? Had he regenerated like Dimitrescu, had he been here all these years? She stumbled after him; her heart pounded. She made it down the hallway. Footprints dragged through the dust, leading her on.

"Dad!" Rose cried. "Come back- it's me- I've come to save you-"

She rounded a corner and jerked to a halt. An old-fashioned elevator stood before her, its lights on, a grille stretched over its entrance. As she watched, the elevator itself rose back into position, like it had just gotten done conveying someone down.

She yanked the grille back; it slid aside with the slick whisper of well-oiled joints. The elevator interior was clean, like the lift in a fancy hotel, its wallpaper unmarked by the years, its brass fixtures glowing warmly in the overhead light. Rose climbed in and jabbed the button, her breathing feverish, sweat prickling in her hairline.

"Come on," she said. "Come on."

The elevator began to slide downward. Down, and down, and down; it couldn't be this far, could it? An eternity of brick wall, of flickering lights, of her own pulse, overloud in her ears. At last a line of light grew upwards from her feet, and the elevator shuddered to a halt.

Past a small, cozy entryway room, the hallways stretched, bland and beige, beyond. "Dad!" Rose cried. Her voice rang through the darkness, away and away. "Dad!"

She ran. The world seemed to fuzz and reform around her; dolls' eyes glittered, like crows' eyes, like stones at the bottom of a deep, deep well. She whirled round a corner and the wall before her pulsated, a stretch of translucent jelly-pink throbbing with veins.

The Embryo? No, no, no- she stretched a trembling hand forward to touch the flesh of God itself-

It was gone. Flash. She tottered back. The silence fell around her like a dropped shroud.

Rose stood, raking in deep breaths. Behind her, a soft footfall came on the carpeted floor.

She turned.

Shadows fanned on the walls around her: the shadows of outspread wings. He stood at the far end of the hallway, backlit, his face in shadow.

"Rose," he said, his voice full of relief. "I found you, I finally-"

"You were too late."

The voice tore from her own throat, cold and measured. The shadows stretched, reaching for her father; he backed off, mangled hands raised, but she was striding toward him, breaking into a run, lunging for him with a shriek of laughter; her hand snapped around his neck, and this close she saw how much she looked like him; those were her eyes, too, and there was not fear in them, but relief, still, relief-

She ripped into him with her teeth. He crumbled under her bite, hard and sharp-edged. Crystal fragments rained from her mouth as she tore her head back, taking half his face off. The wound wasn't flesh and blood, but crystal, broken crystal-

"Too late for her," Rose- Miranda- both of them cried. Another bite; another. "Too late for you." He collapsed to his knees, and still he stared at her, watching her with love in his eyes even as she tore him to pieces. "Too late for all of them!" She fastened her teeth around the hard, polished globe of his right eyeball, and with a wrench of her head-

***

Darkness fell. She slammed to her hands and knees. Her mouth tasted bitter, edged with something like flowers, as if she'd been drinking perfume. She coughed; black fluid spattered the faded, damp-spotted carpet. The air smelled of mold, real mold, a place left to mildew for years in the dark and the cold.

Rose lifted her hands; they quivered. "What the..." she said, but she couldn't go on.

"I'm so sorry."

She looked up. Down the grimy, dank little corridor stood Donna, holding Angie like a ventriloquist's doll. She'd changed clothes. Instead of the practical gear Chris had provided her, she now wore severe, old-fashioned black taffeta, a long skirt and bodice with puffed sleeves. Her eye patch was gone, her Cadou scarring exposed.

It writhed a little as Rose watched, Donna's dark eye sorrowful.

"It must have lingered," Donna went on. "From before."

"That was you?" Rose sputtered. She thought of what Chris had said- she's a puppeteer, a manipulator. "That was...all you?"

Donna nodded, then looked down, averting her eyes.

"You made me see that?" Rose cried.

"My power...only makes mirrors," Donna murmured. "Whatever you saw was you."

Rose stared at her, tension welling in her throat. Chris wouldn't trust her. Chris wouldn't take this. Heisenberg...god, she didn't know, she missed him, she wanted him back so bad it hurt. She pressed her hands over her face.

"I don't know if I can do this," she whispered.

This time, it was Donna's turn to comfort her. She heard the rustle of fabric, Donna's strange, detached, cold presence.

A pause-

Then a cool hand settled on her shoulder, so light she barely felt it.

"I'm sorry," Donna whispered. "I see them too."

"Are they always bad?"

Donna said nothing.

"The visions, I mean," Rose pressed. "Are they always...bad? Can't they be...can't they be good things?"

"I...do not know." She paused. "Perhaps."

Rose nodded. She sniffled. "Please don't..."

Donna waited.

"...Please don't tell the big, sexy vampire about this," Rose said.

She sensed Donna's smile, fragile as the frozen flowers in her garden. "That's probably for the best," she agreed.

***

Rose changed out of her wet clothes while Donna made tea, replacing her soaked shirt with a dry one of Donna's, embroidered cotton in a peasant style. A mirror in the washroom showed the cut Dimitrescu had given her on the cheek hadn't properly healed; a livid red slash lingered. Maybe cuts given with her claws always scarred, even on mutants? Her eyes were still dark-ringed, her hair falling in lank waves around her face. She still tasted that bitterness on the back of her tongue, lingering like a nightmare.

You aren't her. You'll never be her.

Chris wouldn't see it that way.

To hell with what Chris thinks. He's been fighting people like you his whole life.

She couldn't back down now. But why did she keep feeling the crunch of her teeth in Ethan Winters' flesh, the feeling of her tearing him apart?

Because in the hallucination, in the mirror, she'd wanted to keep going. Because in the hallucination, she'd liked it.

In the kitchen, a warm, homey central room that had escaped the worst of the elements, Donna stood by the fireplace with a copper tea-kettle and four heavy ceramic mugs, each painted with birds and flowers. Now that the fire was going the air crackled with welcome heat, banishing the gloom and the smell of damp that crept in from the rest of the house. Angie already sat at the table, propped up on cushions, her porcelain fingers tapping at the wood as if with impatience.

Rose's coat, shirt, and boots were hung up by the fire to dry. Donna must have done that, too.

"Thanks," she said, a little awkwardly.

Donna nodded, checking the contents of the kettle.

"Where's Dimitrescu?" Rose asked.

"Nosing around outdoors," Angie said. "Antsy, antsy. You'd think there was glass in her gloves. Big sister doesn't like us very much!"

"She lost her children," Donna said softly.

"Children," Angie sneered. "A matching set! Three dolls in dress-up clothes. Knock 'em down one after the next and these pretty dollies won't get back up again...!"

She cut off as the sound of footsteps echoed through the house. Moments later Dimitrescu ducked into the room, reclining with an exhale onto a green velvet divan, the only piece of furniture large enough to hold her. It groaned, antique wood and moldy velvet straining under the weight of muscle and bone and blood-clotted tissue.

"Tea?" Angie squeaked, like she hadn't just been mocking her dead daughters.

Dimitrescu gave the tea a look that any lesser being would reserve for murder. "Dust and mildew," she muttered. "I need my castle back. I need my home. Do you remember, once I made wines to make angels weep?"

"Yeah, because they tasted so nasty," Angie muttered.

Dimitrescu rounded on her. "Insolent poppet. I'll smash you apart- a little more dust in this hovel of a house could hardly hurt-

"Enough," Rose growled.

Dimitrescu lifted her chin. Angie chattered her teeth in a click-click-click of porcelain against ivory, but shut up. After a long pause, Donna brought the tea over. Rose didn't miss the wicked little smile playing around her lips.

"The only tea that wasn't stale was this sort," she said. "I hope it's all right."

"Probably full of your nauseating little mind-venom," Dimitrescu said with a wave of her hand. "Forgive me, dear sister, if I won't partake."

Rose took a long drink of the tea, the unfamiliar herbs stinging in her nose and warming the back of her throat. Cloves, she thought, and cinnamon, and something a little sweet. It cleared away the last of the brain-fog from the hallucination downstairs.

"...It isn't stale, is it?" Donna asked.

"No. No, it's good. Kind of tastes like Christmas."

Donna, Angie, and Dimitrescu all looked at her.

"Holiday," Rose amended. "Lots of, uh, pie and stuff. I guess you wouldn't know about it, would you?"

"Heisenberg would," Donna murmured. "He got out."

"So will you, after this," Rose said. "If you want."

Donna lowered her gaze, her hands clasped around her own mug. She didn't take a sip.

"You will," Rose pressed. She half-stood. "Look, we just need a plan. Dimitrescu, you were outside. Did you see anything? Any signs of Ouroboros, lycans?"

"No," she said. "But...there is something. Something in the air...in the feeling of the wind. I don't like it."

"Something wrong?"

She tilted her head back, letting the firelight play over the long, pale planes of her throat. "Let us, for all our sakes, hope not."

"We can't screw around for too long." Rose tapped at her mug with her fingertips, a quick restless drumbeat. "Those helicopters weren't far off. Now, the blizzard's gonna make it hard for them to land, but that won't delay them forever."

"What about your...companion? Jailer? Whichever he was. The man-thing." Dimitrescu's lip curled in disgust.

"Chris..." She didn't want to think about him. He'd have to hunt her down now, she knew. He'd have to. She'd crossed a line in a big way, and no amount of shared history, or shared misery, would allow him with all his duties and responsibilities to just...leave her alone. After all, she'd outright agreed to allow Lady Dimitrescu to eat anyone who got in her way.

I had to, Chris-

But wasn't that everyone's argument? She was certain Miranda would have claimed the same, in her place.

"Chris is a problem for later," she said quickly. "Right now, we need to focus on getting into town, scout out what's going on."

"Fifteen years," Dimitrescu murmured. "What degeneracy will greet us, I wonder."

"At a guess? Probably a whole freaking lot of lycans."

Lady Dimitrescu lifted her hand, letting her claws slide from her fingertips, admiring their slick gleam in the light.

"Dear, sweet child," she said, and grinned, showing off her teeth. "Lycans are to be the least of our worries."

[donnetellotheturtle]

Spider Bo Spider Bo Does Whatever A Spider Bo Does

Chapter 1

Bo stretched as they crawled out of bed. Sorcha was cooking, they could smell it. They did their morning routine and got dressed in a nice suit, combing their hair before coming downstairs.

“Cooking pancakes?” They asked.

Sorcha looked over, his twin chuckling as she shoved a plate in their hand and threw a pancake in it. She plated her own and the two sat down at the kitchen table.

“You look nice.” Sorcha said as she bit into a pancake.

“Got a job interview.”

“Already?”

“Yeah. It’s that science lab. They need a secretary.” Bo ate a quarter of their pancake in one bite.

“Doesn’t seem your style.”

“Jobs are my style. Especially if it’s not fast food…tired of coming home smelling like nuggets. Plus this pays more.”

She nodded. “When do you have to be there?”

“An hour. Can I take the car?”

“Better than a skateboard.”

They shoved the rest of the food in their mouth and saluted as they grabbed the keys and walked out the door.

The drive over was uneventful except for seeing a possum cross the road before leaving their neighborhood. They named the possum Frank.

They parked in the building parking lot known as Blackwood industries.

They carefully combed down their hair and adjusted their suit. They took a deep breath before getting out of the car.

The lab was nice, walls covered with different scientists with different projects Bo had never heard of. There was a woman sitting at a desk typing something. Her nametag read Lillian.

“excuse me.”

She looked up.

“I’m looking for Mr. Harker. Im here for the job interview.”

She smiled. “Third floor, two doors down from the elevator.” She pointed to it in the corner.

“Thank you.”

Lillian nodded, going back to her work.

Bo took the elevator up. It opened into a lab space where there were people working on different projects.

Bo looked around in wonder and then someone crashed into them, knocking them to the ground.

They blushed as they looked up at a handsome man. Around their age, dark skin, braided hair, bright blue eyes.

“Oh my god.” He said, and Bo could see that reddish tint on his face as well. “I-I’m so sorry! I didn’t mean-I-Um”

Bo chuckled. “I-Its okay. Um…could you get up?”

“I-Yes I’m sorry.” He pulled himself off the floor and then offered Bo a hand who took it and was pulled up. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah. Im fine.”

“M-My names Link.” He held out his hand to shake. Bo took it.

“Bo. Um are you-“

“Mx Caldwell.”

The two looked over. Mr. Harker was standing there.

“Oh. Hello.” Bo smiled nervously. “I’m sorry I bumped into-“

“I saw the whole thing. Mr. Herrons, please go back to work. We have an interview to conduct in my lab.”

“Sorry sir. Nice meeting you Bo.”

Bo smiled and walked Link walk off.

“Come along.”

Bo followed Mr. Harker through the lab space into a private office area. Bo looked around.

The space was filled with spiders. They all had habitats along the walls and seemed to be well fed.

“This is my passion project. Spiders are amazing creatures. Most of my experiments are about understanding these creatures. As I saw, you met Mr. Herrons, he’s based a few experiments off electricity.”

“That’s so cool.”

“As my secretary you’d keep track of all my calls, schedule meetings and appointments, and be the go between for me and the other scientists who work under me.”

“That doesn’t sound bad.”

Bo’s leg felt itchy. They resisted the urge to scratch it.

“Your off days would be Thursday through Saturday, 4 weeks of paid vacation…I read through your resume. It’s very impressive.”

Bo blushed. “I’m sure I don’t know what you mean, sir.”

“During highschool you interned under your uncle, Damien Caldwell is that correct?”

Bo nodded. “I didn’t want this job because of him.”

“I contacted your uncle.” He continued. “He gave me a glowing review…you helped him figure out how to make a similar serum to a spiders web. Strong enough to hold a person. While it’s still in the works your work on that project was a turning point…why didn’t you pursue it?”

Bo swallowed hard. They had expected all the normal interview questions but not this.

“I…me and my sister needed to put food on the table and get a roof over our heads. Didn’t have time, I guess.”

“I understand. I would love to have you on my team.”

The itching was up their back now. They tried not to squirm.

“Really?”

“As both a secretary and consultant. One good internship doesn’t make a scientist, but your creative way of thinking would be a valuable asset.”

Something sharp hit the back of Bos neck. Bo yelled, making Mr. Harkens raise an eyebrow.

“Ahh I’m so excited!” They said, then rubbed their neck. Their fingers brushed against something which fell off in a second. They smiled nervously.

“Great to hear it. Mx. Caldwell, welcome to Blackwood industries.”

The two shook hands.

“You start in two weeks. Get all your affairs in order. You’ll be sent an email for all your bank information.”

“T-Thank you sir.”

He nodded. “Have a good day.”

Bo smiled and left the room, grinning.

Mr. Harker saw a spider on the table. He offered a hand to it and it crawled up his arm to his shoulder. He smiled.

Bo walked back through the hallway.

“Hey. How’d it go?” Link looked over.

Bo smiled. “I got the job.”

“Tha-That’s great.”

���…do you always stutter?”

Link chuckled. “only around certain people.”

Bo smiled a bit, then swallowed hard. It felt like a knot had formed in their throat.

“you alright?”

The lights were so bright. They blinked hard as the sounds of the building suddenly rushed to their ears. Every air conditioner, electrical outlet, even cars outside.

“Bo?”

They looked up at Link and the world swam. “I…don’t feel good.”

They didn’t know how but they ended up in links arms.

“You’re burning up.”

Their mouth went dry.

“I’m gonna take you home.”

“C-Call Sorcha.”

Their hands felt wet and clammy as they handed him their phone. Something was wrong. They breathed shakily.

They didn’t process much after that. The world was blurred. One moment they were in their car, Link saying something they didn’t process the next they were being carried into a hospital. The next Sorcha holding their hand as an IV went into their system.

Then everything went dark.

“Bo...Bo!”

They were in an endless expanse of darkness. They looked around. Who was calling their name? They sounded so far away.

“Bo!”

The voice was unfamiliar but comforting.

“Who are you?” Bo called.

“Bo!” The voice repeated. “I can’t see you.”

“Hello?”

Bo saw a flash of light in the distance. They started heading towards it.

“I can’t see you.”

Bo started running as the light became brighter. “Who are you!?”

Bo gasped awake.

“Bo!”

They looked over and saw Sorcha. She smiled in relief. “I’m glad you’re awake.”

“Chacha, where are we?”

“Hospital. Your friend took you here, and called me.”

“…Who?”

“Hey.” They looked over and saw link who was holding sodas and snacks. “Youre awake.”

Bo nodded. “How long…”

“A week. The doctors didn’t know what was wrong with you though.”

Bo stared at him. “…You stayed?”

Link nodded.

They blinked hard, their head starting to pound.

“Lets get a doctor in here.” Sorcha said.

It was two full days of testing and monitoring before they were allowed to go home. Link and Sorcha there to keep them company.

Finally they were allowed to go home when the headaches and pain subsided and the doctors said everything was back to normal.

Sorcha kept a close eye on them as they came back into the house.

“Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

“ChaCha, I’m fine.” Bo chuckled. “Now it’s my night to cook dinner. Are you gonna hover over me the whole time or am I gonna have to lock you in your room?”

Sorcha rolled her eyes. “Fine. But if anything goes wrong I’m taking over.”

Bo rolled their eyes as they walked into their room, going to change.

They pulled off their shirt as they looked in the mirror. Then paused.

Did they have some muscle?

Bo felt their arm and found that yes, they had some. Which was weird cause they never exercised in their life.

“The hell?”

“Bo uncle damiens on the phone!” Sorcha called.

Bo threw on a clean shirt and ran to the kitchen.

“How they doing?” Damien asked from the other side.

“Oh you can ask them yourself.” Sorcha grinned and handed Bo the phone. They glared at her a bit before speaking.

“Hey.”

“Hey kiddo. I heard you got the job. How you feeling?”

“Im completely fine. The doctors said so. Probably just too many over night shifts in a row.”

“Well im excited to see you put that brain to good use. It’s about time.”

“…You didn’t pull any strings, did you?”

“Other than giving you a glowing review, all of which was true, no. That’s all you kiddo.”

“Thanks. Why don’t you come over for dinner tomorrow? We’ll make your favorite.”

“How could I say no? I’ll see you two then. I love you.”

“Love you!” both Sorcha and Bo said before hanging up.

“…You look freaked out.” Sorcha said, raising an eyebrow.

“…I have muscles.”

Sorcha gave them a confused look.

Bo pulled off their shirt, letting it fall. Or at least they tried to. It stuck to their hand. They shook it, trying to get it off.

“That isn’t funny.”

“Its stuck.” Bo used their other hand to try and pull it off only to find that, that hand was stuck. “What the hell!?”

“Don’t rip that shirt.”

“you try getting it off then.”

Sorcha rolled her eyes and grabbed the shirt, tugging, only to discover she couldn’t pull it off either. “Okay what the fuck.”

“That’s what I’m saying!”

Sorcha grabbed onto the edges of the shirt. “on three. One…two…three!”

The two pulled apart and Bo stumbled back and onto the wall, their hands sticking to it. “Huh.”

“What?”

Bo smiled and climbed up the wall, onto the ceiling.

Sorcha screamed.

Next>

A03