#Lamb t-bone

[watcher-bones]

I want to draw that one idea

Brain: if NariLamb was in a prom drama, it would be that convoluted Narinder catching Tyren asking Lambert out, getting pissy about. Thinks Lambert said yes. More pissy about it. Lambert is confused and goes through those hoops of trying to ask Narinder to prom only for problems. Ends with an argument and angry confessions.

Narinder has this "wait wait i thought you were going with Tyren?"

Lambert stopping their angry tyraid, "who the fuck is Tyren?!"

<Tyren is owned by Bamsara>

[dark-and-kawaii]

Lovely Little Thing

Summary: You moaned as Sukuna’s cum pumped into your depths, the tip of his cock planted firmly against your cervix, not allowing a single drop to escape your rapidly swelling womb.

With one final thrust you slammed your hips down on Sukuna’s ridged fat cock, driving his cockhead against your cervix, “s’kuna~♡ mn’youre sho’ deep~ c-can feel you in m-my womb~♡” you mewled.

Sukuna just laid there on his back, two arms folded under his head, the other two holding your hips with a bruising grip. His head was tilted back slightly, but his eyes gazed up at you through hooded eyes. The king of curses gave a slight chuckle, a smug smirk pulling at his lips, “And how is this my fault, little lamb?”

Your cheeks flushed the prettiest of pink as your much smaller body continued riding him like a bitch in heat, your tits bouncing, jiggling, with each rise and fall of your hips. His massive, muscular body spread out under you, sweat glistening and muscles taut… he was the perfect picture of strength and power, and he was all yours.

“S’kuna~ bully my tummy~ mn’make me all mushy n’messy ♡“ you whined.

A large hand found its way to your tummy and pressed down, a lewd moan falling from your parted lips… you could feel his cock so perfectly against his hand, it was making you all dizzy.

Sukuna chuckled again, his thumb rubbing the small bulge his cock created, “Such a needy thing, so cute and pathetic, my little lamb, what am I to do with you hm? You want me to wreck you? Then let me see those delicious tears and fucked out smile.”

His grin was sharp, eyes wild… He wanted to break you, to make a blabbering mess of you until you were nothing more than his perfect little cocksleeve.

Keeping his hand pressed to your belly, feet firmly planted on the bed, Sukuna started snapping his hips up, his cock slamming into your cervix repeatedly, bullying that forbidden area until you were a sobbing mess on his lap.

Your eyes tear filled with pleasure, a dumb, fucked out smile on your face, your tongue lolled out, drool dribbling down your chin, “Ah-h-aah~♡ f-feels s-sogooood ♡♡ S-so big in m-me, f-feels like y-youre makin my t-tummy all swirlyyy ♡♡♡”

Sukuna’s thrusts didn't slow, in fact they got harder, his hips now a blur as his cock drove itself home with each snap of his hips. Your thighs trembled and shook, a tight heat coiling in your tummy, you could feel it, you were gonna cum, gonna cum from having the King of curses use you like a toy.

Your back arched, your eyes widened, your screams went silent, and your body spasmed uncontrollably. It felt as if only you and Sukuna existed in this world, your senses focusing on a white hot singularity of endless pleasure in your womb.

You nearly went limp, left weak by the intense climax, your muscles still spasming around the monster seated deep inside you.

Rope after rope of thick, white hot vitality deep into your spasming cunt, pumping straight into your womb. You moaned as Sukuna’s cum pumped into your depths, the tip of his cock planted firmly against your cervix, not allowing a single drop to escape your rapidly swelling womb.

When his last of his milky seed spilled into your needle little body, a warm, pleasant afterglow settled over his body. Opening his eyes, Sukuna saw that your once normal sized stomach was just perfectly bloated... Your overstuffed womb making you look as is you were already carrying his child.

With your body a wreck, you slumped forward resting on Sukuna's chest, your bloated tummy pressed against the warmth of his body lulling you to sleep, “S’k- s’kuna~luv you…” you slurred out.

Sukuna was caught off guard, he wasn't expecting such soft words, yet here you were, a soft smile on your pretty lips, telling him how much you loved him…

Raking his fingers through your hair, he gave a soft hum, a rare moment of tenderness, “Rest.”

The warmth and comfort of his muscular arms were like a castle made of skulls and bones, a comfort only you knew.

He looked down at your sleeping form, and a soft smirk pulled at his lips, “Love…” his eyes narrowed, “Such a human emotion,” his hand cupped your bloated belly, giving a slight push, drawing a sleepy moan from you, before settling his hand on the curve of your hip… it was such a pitiful emotion, but… it was one he may be willing to accept for you, his sweet little lamb.

[marble-anime]

Sabotage

Pairing: Ryomen Sukuna x Reader

Summary: After finding out about your parents' plan to set you up in an arranged marriage, you ask the King of Curses to give you a baby in an attempt to sabotage their plan.

Disclaimer: Minors DNI

Warnings: mentions of violence, cursing, true form sukuna, smut, monster fucking, double cocks, oral(fem + male receiving), double penetration, breeding, unprotected sex, creampie, mentions of pregnancy

Word count: 2.5k

You were one of the fortunate souls that had managed to cross paths with the King of Curses and make it out unscathed. You’d been sent out to gather water for your family and you stumbled across him rinsing off the blood that caked his monstrous body. He noticed you before you had the chance to run so you bowed down and begged him to spare you out of fear. You were met with his husky laugh and ordered to ‘scram’.

You ran as fast as your feet would carry you. When you explained what happened to your parents you were chastised for possibly leading the curse to your home. If he did know where you resided, he never bothered the village. But you had come in contact with him multiple times after that. Whether it was from pure coincidence or his own curiosity, it felt as though you saw him every time your family sent you beyond the village.

When you first met you’d reacted out of terror but the more you interacted with him the less afraid you were. You slowly learned how to navigate your conversations. You’d greet him with a bow and answer anything he asked about you, smiling politely and nodding at whatever he said and eventually he’d let you go. Although your fear was diminishing you still didn’t know what to make of him. After all, with his size and strength, he could easily tear you apart with those four arms.

But this time was different, you were the one seeking him out. You’d overheard your parents conspiring behind your back. They planned to send you off for an arranged marriage to improve their financial status. You pleaded with them to call it off but you were reprimanded for being ‘selfish’. For putting your wants before the status of your family. You hope they’ll understand why you're about to do this, they really left you no choice.

During your conversations with the fearsome King of Curses, you picked up on his sly comments about how your submissiveness would make for a good mistress. You weren't able to show it but you were secretly offended at the time. However, now his possible sexual interest in you could be your saving grace.

It wasn’t hard to find him. All you had to do was follow the trail of massacred villages and frightened whispers of his name. You soon found yourself at a rugged temple littered with bones. You made your way through the temple and deep inside was Ryomen Sukuna himself sitting on his throne, four crimson eyes staring you down.

“What do we have here?” he asked, a hint of interest in his smug voice. Clearly surprised by your presence. “Are you lost, little lamb?”

You shook your head, trying not to let him intimidate you even though one wrong move could leave you dead in an instant. “My parents are planning an arranged marriage that I have no intention of going through with.”

“Oh,” you intrigued him. Were you hoping he’d kill your husband-to-be? Or perhaps your parents? In that case, he might as well kill your whole village. Surely you weren’t naive enough to think that the King of Curses would give them a stern talking to all because you shared a few pleasant conversations. His decision to let you live didn’t make you friends in the slightest. “And what would you like me to do about it?”

He hadn’t anticipated your answer, “I want a baby.”

“A baby?” A certain darkness was swimming through his eyes as he observed you. His face was akin to a predator stalking its prey.

“Preferably a cursed one,” you replied, challenging his hungry gaze with your nonchalant one, “If dishonoring my family by giving birth to a monster is what it takes to get me out of this marriage then I’ll do it.”

He seemed to be contemplating your words for a moment before he ordered, “Get up here.”

You walked up the stairs of his throne, stopping on the last step. He grabbed your wrist and pulled you onto his lap. You were startled by the feeling of four large hands groping your body. Now with your face inches away from his, the doubt was starting to set in. You knew his body was huge but feeling it against yours, how tiny you were compared to him, really put into perspective just how massive he was. A vision of your mangled body caged in his four arms entered your mind.

“Our previous conversations led me to believe you were at least somewhat intelligent,” he said, as if being able to sense your doubts, “Perhaps I gave you far too much credit. Was becoming my concubine really the best solution you could come up with?” He held you close, his lips brushing against yours as he whispered, “I could kill you where you stand.”

“I can be whatever you want me to be.” His hot breath fanning against your face made you feel like a gazelle about to be devoured by a lion. “An innocent virgin or a slutty concubine.” He pulled you into a hungry kiss, silencing any doubt you had. His lips were rough in contrast to your soft ones. His teeth grazed your bottom lip. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your body heating up. He pulled away, leaving you wanting more. “Keep talking like that.”

“I can pretend to fight back if that's what you like. Act like I regret my decision and that I’m disgusted with myself for fucking a curse.” Being known for the massacre of hundreds of villages, murdering anyone who came across his path. You wouldn’t put it past him to bend the concept of consent. “Or I can act like it’s the best thing I’ve ever experienced.”

He slid a hand into your kimono, kneading your breast. You gasped when you felt a tongue flick your nipple. “Go on,” he said as if the teeth on his palm weren't gently tugging on your sensitive bud.

“I could serve you, do anything to please my master Sukuna.” You moaned as two of his hands gripped your waist, rocking you against him. You pressed soft kisses to his chest. “Or I could be selfish, all I really need is your seed in my womb.”

He grabbed your jaw, making your eyes meet his. “I want you to play the desperate, devoted, virgin. You understand?”

“Yes, master Sukuna.” He released you and you pushed yourself off his lap, sinking to your knees in between his thighs. You pulled his robe down just enough for his cocks to spring free. You stared at them in shock, you supposed that it would make sense for a curse with an extra set of arms to have double cocks. Sukuna noticed you frown in disappointment upon seeing what he kept in his pants. Anger seared through his veins at your reaction. “What the hell is that face for?!”

“There’s no way these are gonna fit,” you whined, they were at least 10 inches each and very girthy. They were massive, definitely inhuman.

Oh, his anger was replaced by amusement as he smirked at your pouty face. “Any size can fit if you're persistent.” He cradled your cheek in his palm and teased, “Unless you're not really serious about getting out of that marriage.”

You knew he was partly joking but his words still brought you some ease. You grasped each of his cocks, pondering how you should go about this. Experimentally, you wrapped your lips around one of them. Stuffing as much of it as you could into your mouth, all you could fit was the tip. You tried swirling your tongue and bobbing your head but it was hard to suck a dick when your lips couldn’t even make it to the shaft.

You heard Sukuna’s arrogant voice above you ask, “Need some help?” before a hand gripped your hair and shoved your head as far down his cock as it would go. Which still wasn’t much. You gagged on his cock, jaw being forced open to the point where it hurt. When you felt the pressure of his hand disappear, you bobbed your head a few more times before you released his girth with a wet pop.

“What are you doing?” he asked, under the impression that you were tapping out after only a minute.

“I have to suck the other one too, don’t I, master?” You tilted your head to work your mouth along his lower cock. Sukuna groaned at the sight of you struggling to suck one of his dicks while the other rubbed against your cheek. Not having much luck, you decided this wasn’t gonna work. You were gonna have to get creative.

You used your hands to fondle his heavy balls and pump one of his cocks, licking a long strip up the other. You alternated your hands and mouth around his sex. Sucking, licking, and stroking wherever you could, doing your best not to leave a part of him unattended.

“Interesting technique you’ve got there.” As entertained as he was, he couldn’t deny that what you were doing was working. Making up for your inability to fit his fat cock in your mouth by stimulating both of them at the same time. You kissed the base of his cock and replied, “If you’ve got a better idea I’d love to hear it,” before letting go of his balls so you could slip one into your mouth, gently sucking while your hand replaced where your mouth had previously been.

“Nah, I’d rather get to fucking your sweet cunt.” Drool seeped from his tummy mouth, drenching both his cocks and the lower half of your face in saliva. You stripped out of your kimono and straddled his lap. His four arms lifted you up, the tips of his cocks prodding at both of your holes as he warned, “It’s gonna hurt.”

“I know. I’m ready.” You ate your words when he let go, impaling you on his cocks. The mass amount of saliva helped them slide inside you with ease but it did nothing to cease the searing pain you felt at the intrusion. You dug your nails into his arms for support. If you didn’t know better, you could’ve sworn he’d punctured a lung with the way you gasped for air. Suddenly remembering your role, you asked breathlessly, “Does it feel good, master Sukuna?”

He reveled in the feeling of splitting you open, your gummy walls squeezing him for dear life. “Feels like a tight virgin ready to be bred by her master.”

All you could do was nod mindlessly as the tongue from his tummy mouth reached between you two, lapping at your clit. Your pussy and thighs were coated in spit. His tongue and cocks left you a moaning mess. You attempted to ride him but your shaking legs couldn’t even lift you halfway up his cocks.

His hands grabbed at you again, helping bounce on his cocks. White hot pleasure consumed your body as his tip banged against your cervix. In your fucked out mind, you wondered why this was considered so wrong. It felt so good. No mere human could ever hold a candle to this. You threw your head back, choking out sobs and slurring your words, “Feels so good, master ‘Kuna.”

Sukuna watched your stomach bulge each time your hips met his with lust-filled eyes. Your cries bounced off the walls of his temple followed by a creamy squelching sound indicating your orgasm. He didn’t let up, continuing to tongue your clit and fuck you up and down his cock like a toy. “How bad do you need your master's cum?”

“So bad!” you sobbed, “Need it so fucking bad! Please, master!”

He growled, lifting your body and pounding into you drawing silenced moans from your throat. You felt your second high crash over you like a tidal wave. Falling limp against his chest, you let him use you like a rag doll. You heard animalistic grunts and groans above you as he continued to brutally thrust into you. He slammed you down on his cocks one last time, filling your holes with his warm cum.

You felt him lift your body as he watched his seed drip down his cocks. Springing back to life, you pushed his hands away, forcing yourself back down. “No! You’re gonna get it everywhere.” It was already too late. His sperm was leaking everywhere. “Oh fuck. Okay, let's do it again and make sure it takes.”

Sukuna was surprised by your willingness to go again. Especially considering you just practically collapsed against him. Nonetheless, he could still go a few more rounds. “Fine. But this time you’ll play the stubborn, bratty, concubine.”

Your eyes darkened, digging your nails into him you spat, “Just fuck a baby into me already, curse.”

Three months after your little escapade with the King of Curses, Sukuna sent Uraume to fetch you. He was growing more curious with each passing day. When his servant finally brought you to him he asked if your plan worked. You shrugged and grabbed his large hand, bringing it to feel your swollen belly hidden under your kimono as you said, “I don’t know, you tell me.”

Leading up to the baby's birth, you would spend multiple days a week at Sukuna’s temple. Uraume would make you the finest food and Sukuna would tend to your needs, both sexual and otherwise.

When the baby was finally born you had a beautiful boy. His features mostly took after you. Well, except for the four arms he was gifted from his father. Your parents were horrified but you couldn’t have loved your baby boy more. He was perfect in your eyes.

After you’d given birth, you weren’t around Sukuna as much. But he’d still call you to him every once and a while. He didn’t say much, just watched you tend to your shared child with the utmost care. When your son saw his father for the first time he visibly brightened. You figured since he was always surrounded by humans, it was probably nice for him to see a being that looked like him.

What you didn’t know was that Sukuna paid a little visit to your village while you were at the market. He’d threatened your parents to force you into another arranged marriage. Surely, you’d come crawling back to him and you’d bear his second child. Being the mother of two cursed children, you’d simply have no choice but to be his wife.

He’d been out late getting rid of those pesky jujutsu sorcerers and when he arrived at his temple he was greeted with the sight of Uraume cradling his sleeping son. They informed him that you were waiting for him in his chamber. He knew his plan was falling into place when he opened the door to find you on his bed, kimono pooled at your waist to reveal your breasts as you spoke in a sultry voice, “Let’s have another baby.”

[ozzgin]

Yandere! Bad Guy x Reader

I am currently in my Natural Born Killers nostalgia, and so I'm borrowing its vibes and bringing you this: a bad-to-the-bone, rock-and-roll attitude yandere who constantly makes you question your own morality. Featuring an old OC!

Content: gender neutral reader, violence, murder, male yandere

He fell in love with you at first sight. A goody two shoes, quiet and obedient. Shy. Oh, terribly shy. You couldn't even meet his eyes. He knew you were the kind others would step on, take advantage of. But there was more to it, much more to uncover.

Who was it? A relative, a friend, a coworker? You know, that person holding you back, keeping you in your place. The one who'd always make you feel small and insignificant. The one who would always find something to criticize. How did it feel when you found them on the ground, bashed in and bloodied up? He was standing above the lifeless body, catching his breath, a cocky smile plastered on his face. His way of courting you.

He looked so tall in that moment, towering above your hesitant self, his gaze of a confidence and intensity you'd never known before. "Well? What are you waiting for? Get in", he said, gesturing towards a convertible he most likely stole earlier that day. What possessed you in that moment to join him without delay? Was it his charisma? Or did you know in the depth of your soul that he wouldn't take no for an answer?

You see, he's known it from the beginning. Someone like you needs someone like him. You’re a sweet little lamb lost among the wolves. The world would eat you right up if you were left by yourself. But now you have him. And he won't let his precious prey get away. Oh, dear, no. If he wants something, he gets it. And he's never wanted anything more than you.

"You didn't...even tell me your name", you sheepishly spoke up from the passenger seat, trying to keep your mind away from the crime you'd just witnessed. "Just call me Tig", he said casually with a yawn, speeding away. "Won't you be in trouble, Tig? Why would you even kill-" you tried to reason. "What kinda question is that? They treated you like shit and it pissed me off." He glanced at you with a frown, taking another drag off his cigarette. "You're mine now, so whatever happens to you is my business. Got it?" You just stared. Was that his way of asking you out?

Tig lives by his own rules, as you quickly learned from becoming his companion. Always on the run, indifferent to the world. For the most part, to your surprise, he's well-behaved. If people don't mess with him, he doesn't mess with them. Simple as that.

Anything involving you, however, sets him off terribly. Like a rabid, ferocious guard dog, he's ready to pounce on whoever approaches you the wrong way. Last week you stopped at a highway diner for coffee, and on your way back to your table, you jokingly pulled a clumsy dance move to the song playing from the speakers. Tig observed you with an amused smile, sipping from his cup. A passerby joined you, resting his arm on your waist flirtatiously. Tig's smile dropped in an instant, and next thing you knew, the whole place was splattered in blood. No one made it out.

"I didn't even finish my coffee", you whined, already used to the occasional massacre. The man hopped behind the counter and threw on a bloodied cap. "What will it be, sir/ma'am?" he pretended, dangling a takeaway cup and starting the espresso machine. "I never told you, but I used to be a barista", he declared proudly. An entirely different person from the unhinged killer you witnessed minutes ago. "What? You said you were a mechanic", you questioned with raised brows. "That's also true. I'm a jack of all trades, I suppose. You know what I'm best at, though?" He lowered himself until his forehead touched yours. "Pleasing you."

The man is romantic in his own way. He twists the key, and the engine stops. You follow him out of the car in confusion. "Why did we stop here?" He briefly lifts himself up onto the tall fence securing the bridge, and inhales deeply. "Isn't it a nice view?" he says, nodding ahead. It is a scenic sight, sure. The river slithers along the lush valley, and the setting sun gives everything a dramatic tint. "Give me your hand", he suddenly demands as he goes to grab it himself. Before you can ask for an explanation, he quickly drags a blade across your palm, and you wince in pain. He repeats the gesture with his own hand, locking his fingers with yours over the rail. You watch as fresh blood trails along your skin, eventually falling into droplets and vanishing into the river. "Now we're going to be everywhere", he remarks playfully. "Okay, but what was the point?" you insist, a little baffled.

"Isn't it obvious? Maybe this will help", he continues, procuring a ring from his pocket. "I'm saying I want to marry you, (Y/N)."

You open your mouth to answer, but he already slides it up your finger, eyes glimmering in excitement.

"You're never getting away from me, love."

[writersdrug]

Mourning Dove

Chapter 3: Pursuit

Masterlist

Summary: König finds a lost lamb and guides it home, away from the wolves.

Warnings: Obsessive behavior, chasing, anxiety

The forest wasn’t full of surprises – at least, not to König. In fact, it was a comfortably predictable place. Trees grew and shed their leaves, animals frolicked in the early morning and landed in his traps at night. Mushrooms sprouted among the tree stumps behind his cabin, and the sun rose and fell. The only variance was in what he cooked for his meals or how many logs he put in the woodstove, and even then, there wasn’t much of a difference.

When the sickness had broken out across nations, he had hardly noticed it. If it wasn’t for his biweekly trip down the mountain, he wouldn’t have. He had barely made a mile from the forest’s border when he heard the animalistic, yet alien murmurs and howls from the town. After a day’s observation from the sanctuary of the woods, he understood what had become of the majority of the population. Necessities became luxuries, and trips were cut back to a once-a-month basis. He didn’t have the mental energy nor the patience to fight off hundreds of creatures every other week.

The infected stayed away from this neck of the woods – most of the time. There was the occasional straggler that somehow made it up the steep incline, but half the time, they were forced back down once they discovered the lack of fresh human sinew. The ones that pushed closer to his cabin were nothing he couldn’t handle. They were no different than animals in his opinion, just without any usable or edible bits; the bones were too weak and brittle, and the ligaments and fibers of their flesh too mushy. If anything, they provided target practice, even if he didn’t need it.

But, this was all typical. Expected.

What was unexpected, was you.

First, it was the smell of smoke lingering in the air. König certainly hadn’t lit his woodstove for a while now. Burnt, citrusy smoke hung unnaturally in the air at eleven in the morning, nearly burning his nostrils with the unbearably piney scent. Rather than climbing down his usual path, he followed it east, curious to see who was in his neck of the woods. The infected didn’t have the brains to start a fire anymore – literally – and he couldn’t remember the last time someone had come through this area. It wasn’t near any trails or known paths, so whoever was bold enough to venture out this way had him curious and on high alert.

Soon, he stumbled across the pillar of smoke climbing towards the sky. The hunter in him settled down when he realized that this person was rather daft – leaving a fire smoking like that was no different than handing someone a knife and asking them to stab you. It was foolish of someone to think they were alone in the woods, and equally as foolish to think those creatures wouldn’t scale the mountain for a crumb of human flesh.

Finally, nearly an hour away from his cabin (fancy he’d stumble upon you on the way home), there you were. Up against a small boulder, your back to the decline of the mountain; König wondered if you had frozen to death, with nothing but your cardigan draped across your body to fight the autumn chill.

You were curled up on a rather soggy patch of forest floor. There was nothing underneath you but wet leaves and cold dirt. Your cardigan was draped over you as much as it could as a makeshift blanket – hardly one at that. König would have assumed you were dead if it wasn’t for the tremor in your shoulders, and the fact that the fire’s embers were still smoking. You must have gotten cold enough during the night to try and keep the blaze going. A backpack was carelessly and ineffectively hidden beneath a pile of twigs and matted leaves, with a protein bar wrapper shoved into the side pocket. However small the gesture was, he appreciated the awareness of your environment.

There was a plethora of questions swimming in his head. How did you get this high up the mountain? Did you mean to make it this far? How had you survived the virus for so long? He didn’t mean to judge a book by its cover, but you were rather dense and careless with your own self preservation tactics. He doubted that you kept the fire burning to mask your scent from the infected… that was too much effort for someone who slept facing the boulder, instead of keeping their eyes on the open space ahead of them.

He watched you for a while, until the dying fire’s smoke was no more than a few tendrils, curling towards the sky and disappearing before they reached the tops of the trees. Every sound from within the woods had him swiveling his head, making sure nothing was tearing up the mountain to disturb your sleep. He shouldn’t care; in fact, it was very uncharacteristic of him to care about anyone but himself. Maybe it was because he hadn’t seen a real person in the last two months, let alone held a conversation with one. But he found himself watching you like a shepherd watching his lambs – because that’s all you were, wasn’t it? A lost lamb, doing your best to survive in the wild. How could he leave such an untainted, innocent thing to the wolves?

But enough of that. You were starting to stir awake.

You rolled over to stare at the dead embers, your face puffy from an unrestful sleep. Your eyes were full of resignment and uncertainty. König wanted to chide you for waking up so late into the morning – the daylight needed to be used for finding food and making distance, not sleeping. He watched as you sat up with a sigh and put your cardigan on. As you rose to your feet, he noticed the back of your jeans were damp from the wet ground you had spent the night on. He was becoming more and more frustrated with you; you and your poor survival skills, your wet pants, your weak shoes, and the leaves in your hair that you didn’t seem to care to pick out. He would gladly do it to satisfy the perfectionist in him, if it wasn’t such a domestic gesture.

He watched intently, like a good shepherd would, as you threw wet leaves onto the makeshift campfire. Good practice, if it wasn’t completely pointless at this time of day. You sheepishly looked around the clearing, before making your way into the denser thicket of trees. He didn’t realize what you were doing until he saw you fumbling with the waistline of your jeans.

It made him laugh internally. The fact that you were so cautious, as if some woodland creature might spy on you. He was the only one you needed to worry about, but he decided to spare your privacy. He’d be worried about how quickly you were ensnaring his territorial instincts, like you had already belonged to him, if he didn’t have the excuse of your obviously non-existent self-preservation to back his newfound obsession.

He waited until you had disappeared behind the boulder before abandoning his spot among the shrubbery. His footsteps were calculated and quiet as he approached your makeshift campsite. The air was thick with acrid smoke, piney and sharp from the fir needles that had burnt up in the fire. Remnants of you littered the area: your bag, of course, laid open and propped against the rock. You’d swept away most of the leaves and twigs from where you had lay on the ground, and there was a thin line you had drawn around the perimeter of your bed. It made him laugh, a soft huff escaping through his nostrils at the idea of you staking a claim here.

His thick fingers dipped into your bag, rummaging through the contents. Some weird, big straw… protein bars, batteries, and a pretty pathetic medical kit. He’d seen them before in the hunting store he used to frequent in town, placed near the cashier’s desk in an attempt to catch the eye of someone who didn’t know any better. That was you, wasn’t it? You didn’t know any better; you focused on bringing things that would keep you alive in the short run, but nothing to sustain you. Where were your tools? What would you do to hunt, or to gather wood, or to defend yourself? Were you mistaking fortunate circumstances for your own skill? Did you know how to use that little knife, kleines Lamm? Judging by the bandage wrappers stuffed into the side pocket of your backpack, it appeared that you didn’t.

In the outside pocket of the bag, he found a set of car keys. What had you planned to do with a car? He thought. The gas stations were all shut down, most likely out of gas from the hysteria when the infection had started. Foolish girl… didn’t you think of that? He mused. Did you think of anything at all? Or were you so recklessly desperate to survive, that you threw all caution to the wind?

He was back under the cover of the trees by the time you were finished. Cerulean irises watched from the shadows as you knelt by your bag, digging around through the contents until you pulled out a map. He stifled a laugh as you looked at the damn thing with a furrowed brow, then turned it upside-down, then once more to the left, until your face relaxed into a satisfied expression. You held the map loosely in one hand as you shouldered your bag, stomped on the ashes of the fire a bit, and made your way west.

König’s curiosity had him in a chokehold. The only reasonable thing he could think of was to follow you.

He kept a good distance from you, maybe a hundred yards down the mountain from where you walked. Your eyes were glossy and tired as you stared ahead. Occasionally, he observed as you glanced at the map, then the babbling creek, then back ahead. Boredom was clear as day on your face – what were you searching for? Where were you going? There was nothing out here, other than König’s cabin, and miles and miles of woods. Roze and Horangi had made sure he was planted in a safehouse, far beyond where roads and buildings began to smatter across the maps’ pages.

He found himself sizing you up a bit. He didn’t like how sluggishly you moved; it was understandably due to a lack of real food. Protein bars could only sustain you so much, especially if you were rationing yourself to one per day. You had potential to be a warm body, with enough hearty food and pampering – you deserved that. Who else to give it to you, but himself? He was worthy of it; he’d spend enough time alone, toiling over his own survival and keeping the forest decently clean and flourishing, hadn’t he? He earned the right to take care of you, to turn you into an ideal mate. It’s as if the forest had gifted you to him for all his hard work, and he wasn’t about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

His humanity told him to slow down, back off, and reminded him that you didn’t belong to him. His instinct promised to make you his.

It impressed König, how much distance you were able to cover before you stopped for a break. The boredom might have been helping you trudge along, because at least you were moving. Eventually, however, you had come to stop by a sharp bend of the river, sitting yourself at the base of a tree. König allowed himself to linger closer to you, planting himself behind a thicket of barberry bushes.

What am I doing? He forced him self to ask the question that he had neglected over the past several hours. He drank in your exhausted expression and muscles, watching you slump over as you rested your elbows on your knees. Both obsessing and protecting came to mind as he stared, noticing the tremor in your shoulders. The objective of the question slowly faded to the back of his mind as he reeled at the thought of warming you up. Plenty of blankets and furs back at the cabin… and a woodstove, too. There was a number of ways he could warm you up, protect you from the nipping cold and keep you from having to stuff your fingers in your armpits, like you were now.

It was already festering inside of him: his obsession with you. You, a little lost thing, unaware that you had trespassed into his part of the woods. An unfamiliar hunger settled in his muscle fibers, running underneath his skin along his veins. He struggled with the urge to come up behind you and take you by the scruff of your neck, then drag your limp, compliant body back to his home. It was unnatural, but strong. An instinct, perhaps, but why now? Why was this what caused his jaw to ache with a need to bite, mark, claim? Saliva pooled in between his teeth as he watched you tuck your hair behind your ears, checking your fingernails – completely oblivious to the eyes peering at you through thick leaves and shrubbery. It’s ok, kleines Lamm, he can forgive that. You just don’t know any better. That’s what he’s there for; I’ll kill every creature in these woods, so you can be free of anxiety and fear.

Of course, as he was piecing together the perfect picture of your life woven into his, the universe had to take him down a few notches. Life can’t be too easy, can it?

A voice broke through the trees, echoing in between the sturdy trunks until the sound reached König’s ears. He heard the timbre before you did. A name. Yours, perhaps? The voice was angry, bitter – what had you done, kleines Lamm? It had to be your name, considering you were the only other human he’d crossed paths with since the start of the spread. Now, two humans? It was the most interesting thing that to occur in the last five years.

The second time was closer. You heard it, he could tell; the way your body froze, and how your eyes widened, like prey when they realize they’re staring at death’s doors. You sat upright in a heartbeat, scanning the area around you and quickly shouldering your bag. König could practically smell the fear dripping from you, he could hear the adrenaline surging through your veins. It ignited a spark within himself as he saw the coils in your mind tightening, getting ready to sprint away from the danger. He leaned on his haunches, watching as you calculated where you planned to launch off to.

Finally, after the third and closest call of your name, you sprung into action, pushing yourself up onto your feet and tearing away from the river. You went north. Up. König wasn’t expecting that. He had assumed you’d go south, using the decline of the mountain to your advantage. You’re rather smart, he thought, as he began chasing after you. Maybe you thought your hunter would think you’d go south, too. Pride thrummed appreciatively in the back of his mind – you were able to ignore your instinct, in cases where it wouldn’t be helpful, and that was an excellent survival skill that not many possessed.

You were quick when you were desperate. As the mountain’s incline grew, you resorted to clawing your way upwards like an animal fingers digging into whatever tree bark or dirt they could latch onto. Where were you going? Did you plan to hide within the high altitudes and colder temperatures until your hunter had moved on? You were aimless. If you had a plan to begin with, it was now thrown to the wind to make room for your will to survive – or rather, escape.

You threw a glance over your shoulder, but König knew you wouldn’t see him. He was a ways behind you, taking the quiet path and laying low. The last thing he wanted was to spook you and have you cowering in fear, stuck like a deer in headlights - or send you in the wrong direction completely. You were already running rather carelessly; he had to hold back a cautionary shout when you started slipping on the wet leaves and stones. Your shoes were already falling apart, and he was bristling at the thought of you injuring yourself, in which case he wouldn’t hesitate to snatch you up and carry you home.

But, of course, when there’s a will, there’s a way.

Your next step was rather unfortunate, as your perishing shoe slipped on the sodden foliage decorating the forest floor. You hit the ground and punched the breath out of your own lungs, unintentionally wedging your arm between your chest and the forest floor. He didn’t miss the way you squeezed your eyes shut and clenched your teeth together, holding back the wail that threatened to expose your location – ah, did you hurt something? Reckless thing…

You slowly sat back on your heels, cradling your right arm to your chest. König saw the pain in your face as you stared at your arm – he so desperately wanted to know what you were thinking. Poor thing is probably exhausted and sore… you weren’t made for this kind of fear and pain. He wanted to grab you then and there, hold you to his chest, and take off with you back to his home. It was his instinct to protect you.

But that’s just the thing. It was instinct. You wouldn’t understand it. You would call that abduction, despite the fact that you didn’t have a place to be abducted from. You didn’t belong here, nor anywhere. How far were you from home? Did you even have one?

You would. He’d see to it himself.

Another cry of your name, much angrier than the last one (if that was possible). You didn’t hear it – you probably couldn’t over the pain you felt. A lamb, too focused on the sharp-shooting agony in its foot to realize the wolves were closing in on you. He couldn’t wait for you to pick yourself up.

He had to herd you back home.

He didn’t want you to see him – that might frighten you away. But, he would use your own hysteria against you. You’d forgive him, right? It was for your own good.

He let his instinct take over again. He charged up the mountain towards your position, letting the twigs snap under his weight and the leaves kick up around him.

Your head snapped up. Your eyes were glossy with tears, fixed at König’s general direction. Like one of Phidias’s masterpieces, you were chiseled marble, frozen statue-still as you listened for more.

Did you think he was one of the creatures? Kleines Lamm… I am so much better.

He sprung into action once again, and the sound was enough to release you from your fear. You scrambled to your feet and took off back up the mountain, clawing your way through the humus and leaves like prey running from the hunter. Don’t worry… he wasn’t the hunter. He was the watch hound, steering you to safety – even if he was using rather unethical methods. But you didn’t know any better.

He purposefully made a mess of sounds: heavy footfalls against the ground, rustling up leaves as he ran. Slamming his body against tree trunks and causing the wood to crack. He breathed heavily, almost snarling, lips curling into a wicked grin as he heard you whimpering in panic. You wouldn’t turn around to see what or who was chasing you – good girl, just run. Run home.

The voice didn’t call out again. That, or König had chased you far enough away where the sound of your name called in anger wouldn’t be heard. You slowed down a bit, breaths mixing with panicked whines as you swallowed lungfulls of air. When you veered a little too far from where König wanted you to be, he would drag himself to that side and stir up noise, effectively herding you back to the desired path. He could tell you were on the brink of passing out. Just a little further, and you could stumble upon his cabin, break into his home and collapse on his floor for him to find later. Sure, he might be mad at himself – he had always thought he preferred being alone, not having to deal with shit from another human again. His military days were over. But the loneliness was there, lingering in the back of his mind, now taking the reigns and driving this poor, frightened dove into his trap.

No; not a trap, he reminded himself, a shelter. A cave, to hide her from whatever haunts her.

Satisfaction and relief made their homes in his mind when he had herded you where he wanted you. He stopped his pursuit, bracing himself against a tree and panting heavily, watching as you continued your terror-induced scramble up the mountain. The cabin was a mile away, but he trusted you would recognize the signs of life and follow them to safety. Hopefully, the bastard he was protecting you from hadn’t traumatized you beyond socialization.

No, he knew he’d find you there. God knows how many days of protein bars and walking for miles on end would have you drooling at the sight of his cabin, however outdated it might be. It would be a surprise for his future self, seeing you all cozy and safe in his cabin when he returns to it in a day or two – but he knew he was lonely. He had to listen to himself all day, he couldn’t deny it. He would come to appreciate you, and hopefully, you’d realize that you need him: the perfect protector, mate, and provider.

Next ->

Taglist: @nic-stars @teenagellamaangel @zhuyingsworld @crypticme @konigswifeyforlifey @zlunia @gremlinmodetweeker

[lavendermin]

Drunk Jing Yuan doing something to my brain cause imagine when he was still a lieutenant (around young adult and still reach HCQ era I believe) but imagine how loose he is compared to our current general, he certainly have a different tolerance effect

Young lieutenant jing yuan who is getting a little too drunk and is blindly letting his heart slip past infatuation. Living life too fast, too foolishly, with a heart almost freshly squeezed of its naïveté.

When he’s drunk he thinks he could be in love. You’d be the perfect victim—so kind and trustworthy. The idea of having a tender little romance with an elder healer’s apprentice is tantalizing indeed.

You haven’t drank all night despite being generously dragged along by your master to a friendly gathering of prominent figures. And though Jing Yuan is familiar with these faces, it’s clear you are not.

cw | alcohol, fluff

Alcohol or not, he can’t bear to see you look so uncomfortable—like a lost little lamb. When you excuse yourself quietly to take a quick walk around the gardens, he follows suit. The false moons are high in the Luofu’s sky, listening to your quiet woes beside sleeping blooms.

Though the alcohol is prominent in his system, his footing is steady as he makes his way to you sitting by a small pond.

“Sit.” Your command catches him a little off guard. “Before you make yourself a fool if you fall in the water.”

“Not the most common greeting I’ve had the pleasure of receiving, but it’s not distasteful,” Jing Yuan chuckles as he takes a seat next to you.

Your eyes widen, a deep-set panic quickly flashing in different stages on your features.

“L-Lieutenant– I wasn’t aware it was you, I swear!”

“Quite alright. And you’d be right. I am quite drunk, I’ll admit.”

There’s still hesitation, given your rigid posture in his presence. It’s sweet how hard you try to please, but these small cracks in your front are all the more endearing. Some sense of a more natural you.

You sigh, something bone-deep and exhausted. “Apologies, lieutenant. I’m just quite used to the strong smell of alcohol from the many that stop by the apothecary for remedies in the morning after a night of reckless drinking. Master is no different. I meant no offense I just… thought it was master coming for that same remedy as well.”

He laughs at this, a little too loose as the alcohol begins to work its way through his system. Everything moves so quickly and you seem so far away despite being right next to him.

“Quite impressive for the elder healer to depend on his apprentice for such important remedies,” he complements. It makes your hands fidget in your lap, clearly not used to the attention. Always working from the shadows.

“It’s really nothing spectacular. You’re much too kind.” He makes you nervous. In a good way.

It’s so easy for him to want more of you. A splendid respite.

He’s sure he’s smiling stupidly at you, his head resting on his palm as he sits rather lax. The alcohol bids him not to care.

“I’m quite fond of you, if you’ve noticed,” he admits quietly. A bit too forward as the drinks begin to talk.

His words make your face burn hot.

“Surely you’ve had far too much to drink,” you squeak as he slumps against you. Warm and much, much bigger than you. Your hand is immediately on his face, cool and soft where the alcohol warms his cheeks. “How much did you have? Come, quickly. I’ll prepare you a remedy. What if you have alcohol poisoning? Can you walk?”

Jing Yuan follows obediently as you drag him by the arm, walking perfectly fine as you fuss over whether he feels like he may pass out or worse.

“Sit, please,” you motion to the small bench by your bedside.

“Quite the prepared one, aren’t you,” he comments as he watches you quickly run to and fro gathering the ingredients you packed for this small trip. The room is only slightly spinning.

You’re rambling and giving a light scolding, deep in concentration, when he quickly pulls you by the waist. Close. Too close.

Your breath is in your throat, heart beating loudly in your ears. “Lieutenant, you shouldn’t be standing. You need to–”

Before you can finish, his finger is gently on your lips to quiet your nerves. A gentle thing as he sways you both subtly in his hold, your body slowly releasing tension.

“This will pass. What I need,” he presses a chaste kiss upon your temple, “is you.”

[twooftheluckyones]

Cult of the Lamb: Luck of the Lamb Part 3: Paradigm Shift Belief is a force beyond reckoning. What one believes in can shape the entire course of their lives, and if their will is strong enough, the lives of others as well. So great can someone's ideals be, that their divine power might change the very fabric of reality. After all, the Lamb was wrought to bring change. ~Previous/Next~ ~Start~

~~~~ Story Segment Under Cut ~~~~

"Una, you have done well," Narinder boomed from above. Finally, freedom was so close. Pride and triumph filled him, victory barely within his grasp. "You are freed from my service. Return the crown to me, so that I may be free! Finally... I will be FREE!" An electric energy filled his arms, the shackles binding him gone, now only one final chain to be broken. Una looked up at the god, eyes filled with awe but still pleading. "Narinder, I have one final request of you," she asked, nervousness filling her entire core and seeping into her words. She felt ready to implode. "Let me join you, fighting by your side as your most trusted follower!" Narinder's smile faded, looking guarded, but still neutral. "I have spent my entire life in your service, and hold you above all else. Let me stay by your side and continue my duties as your loyal servant, please!" Narinder's smile faded, and for a pause he looked at her, conflicted. "Your growing divinity has given you courage above all else... I will at least give you some closure." His jaw tightened, his demeanor turning dour as shadow covered his face. It had to be this way. "You ask far beyond what can be done. I cannot save you from your ending." He looked down at her, eyes narrow. "I arrived in much the same manner you did; by dying. My vile siblings struck me down, but death is my domain. The power within the crown would have allowed me to escape. It is only with their binding chains that I was trapped here." Una felt the floor vanish from under her, clutching the crown with fear. The implication of his words began to sink in. "No! There must be a way!" She stammered, desperation taking hold. "T-The ritual of resurrection?!" "The mortal soul is but a candle, simple to relight, but the raging power of a god cannot simply be rekindled with mere bones and chanting." He spread his arms wide, gesturing to the vast expanse around them. Suddenly the still air felt thick, oppressive, binding. "Their chains may be gone, but we are still both bound to this place, and have been since we died. Death is as inevitable as the sand in an hourglass running empty. It is only through the crown's power that a god can escape it." He looked at her again, and only for a moment she saw the faint glimmer regret in his eyes. But determination snuffs it instantly. "This includes you... Una," the name is oozing with remorse, far more sympathy than the god has ever granted anyone. "Your musings of emergent divinity are true. Even if you returned the crown, I cannot undo the divinity that now fills your soul." He stretched his arm out again, hand right in front of her. His eyes smoldered with command. There is no other way. "Return it. Now." Una did not obey. Her trembling hands steeled themselves around a jet black sword, glaring up at him with furious refusal in her eyes. Tears of betrayal ran down her face, but did not sway her hand. There had to be another way. The electricity in her body surged, divine energy rising up around her as she prepared to defy destiny. The space around them crackled with the whirlwind of power, a furious storm summoned by one who defies all odds and opposes fate itself. One becomes nothing, and the universe trembled in change.

[anne-bsd-bibliophile]

As I was rereading Thousand Autumns, I collected all of Shen Qiao's sarcastic thoughts he keeps to himself:

"Did Sect Leader Yan rent a courtyard with only one bedroom?" Shen Qiao asked. Yan Wushi was completely unruffled. "Of course not. But I rented the courtyard, so I can sit wherever I please. You've been unconscious for days, and I've taken care of you for the entire journey. But instead of thanking me, you've been acting all evasive. Was the sect leader of Xuandu Mountain brought up with such rude manners?" Shen Qiao thought to himself, My manner is evasive because yours is abnormal.

Ruyan Kehui smiled minutely... "The northern kingdoms are vast and abundant, but the southern kingdom is no less so. Once he's tasted Linchuan Academy's tea, perhaps this honored guest will find it unbearable to leave, even without his host imploring him to stay?" With a claim like that, did the Linchuan Academy drug all their visitors, and that's why they couldn't bear to leave? Shen Qiao couldn't help it and burst out with a chuckle.

Yan Wushi was all smiles. "My A-Qiao is so clever!" Shen Qiao's face grew dark. Who's your A-Qiao?

"... I suffered some serious injuries, and it took everything I had to escape. Ever since then, I've been too frightened to rashly provoke that guy anymore. A great and honorable grandmaster like him, splitting hairs with a weak woman like me? How petty and unbecoming of him." You're not a weak woman, thought Shen Qiao. Furthermore, you were the one who snuck into someone else's territory. If they let you come and go as you wish, what's the point of Linchuan Academy's gates? Might as well let people barge in every day.

Shen Qiao placed the lamb soup and flatbread in front of Yan Wushi. "Are you hungry? Eat." Yan Wushi glanced at Shen Qiao, then quickly dropped his head and mumbled, "Feed me." Shen Qiao fell silent. After a long time with no reply, Yan Wushi raised his head to look at Shen Qiao, then said hesitantly, "Like last time... Kis..." If I knock him unconscious right now, will he wake up with a more normal personality? Shen Qiao contemplated this with all seriousness.

"A-Qiao, why are you ignoring me?" Because right now I'm contemplating whether to knock you out before we keep going, Shen Qiao thought.

"She's my younger sister," said Shen Qiao. "Wife," said Yan Wushi. Shen Qiao and Yan Wushi's eyes met. Shen Qiao guessed that Yan Wushi had done it on purpose due to his dissatisfaction at being made to dress up like a woman, but he couldn't say too much in front of an outsider. He could only give a light cough and throw in a belated explanation: "This is my cousin. She's a bit immature, so please don't take offense." It would have been better if he hadn't explained. The moment he did, the peddler instantly imagined a story about a pair of cousins in forbidden love eloping to a faraway land. He quickly nodded repeatedly. "I understand! I understand!" Shen Qiao was completely baffled. What do you understand? Even I don't understand.

"If you're going to use a disguise, make it a good one. Most women have long fingernails, and even if they don't, they'll paint them. Otherwise, the moment an observant person sees how prominent my knuckles are, they'll immediately know that I'm a man disguised as a woman." The corner of Shen Qiao's mouth twitched as he thought, How am I supposed to know something like that? I've never disguised myself as one before.

Yan Wushi sputtered a laugh. "All right, all right. Don't be so mad!... Like you said, my martial arts have yet to recover, and my reappearance would be far too ostentatious ... You won't be able to protect me with your current abilities." And whose fault is that? thought Shen Qiao. You have enemies everywhere, and that's not something everyone can pull off. If not for my concern over the big picture, which prevents me from picking a bone with you, I, too, would have joined the ranks of people trying to kill you.

Yan Wushi peeled off a piece of bark from somewhere, then placed the roasted sparrows on top. As Shen Qiao looked at them, he immediately found it difficult to keep his mouth from twitching. Upon that piece of bark, six sparrows were neatly laid out, with one in the center and five arranged evenly around it. "This dish is called 'Plum Blossom Sparrows.'" Shen Qiao bit his tongue. You came up with the name yourself, didn't you?

Yan Wushi sighed. "A-Qiao, you're not stupid But your tender heart holds you back. You're always so optimistic when it comes to interpersonal matters, and you never suspect a dark side to them. What would you do if I weren't here?" If you weren't here, my days would definitely go a hundred times more smoothly! Shen Qiao almost blurted out.

"A-Qiao, you're shivering," Yan Wushi said, mouth against his ear. "Are you wearing too little?" Laughter laced his tone, and he had almost trapped Shen Qiao within his arms. I'll stop shivering if you let go! Shen Qiao raged internally.

"First, my venerable self doesn't want Guang Lingsan to know that we're close," Yan Wushi replied leisurely. "This is to keep you safe, so you should thank me." How are you and I close? Shen Qiao thought to himself, but he played along. "I'm grateful for Sect Leader Yan's care."

Yan Wushi's gaze swept over Shen Qiao and Yuwen Song, whose expressions were equally speechless. He casually threw in another line: "I heard that there's a peerless beauty at Bixia Sect, whose name is Yue Kunchi." Shen Qiao was stunned. "That's the sect leader's shixiong, and...and he's a man. You actually...?" "That sect leader should be a woman?" "That's right..." "Then let me try again," said Yan Wushi. "I heard that the Bixia Sect Leader is a peerless beauty, whose appearance surpasses even Yuan Xiuxiu's. My venerable self has admired her for a long time, so I wish to meet her." Shen Qiao stared at him. You don't sound like you've admired her for very long at all.

"A-Qiao, you're words are far too distant considering our current relationship." What current relationship? Shen Qiao's mouth twitched as he forced himself once again to endure an irrelevant remark from Yan Wushi.

Shen Qiao didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "I never wanted to be the alliance leader!" Yu Shengyan was confused. "Shizun ordered me to come and help you. If you don't want to be alliance leader, why did he instruct me to do so?" Shen Qiao thought to himself, Your shizun just does as he pleases, and his actions and words couldn't be further from a normal person's. How am I supposed to know what he's thinking?

Yan Wushi even consoled him. "It's not your fault. I already told you that Hehuan Sect is full of bad people, and that's why you shouldn't mingle with that trash. Like those demonesses, Yuan Xiuxiu and Bai Rong; just stay away when you see them in the future. My A-Qiao is a pure and spirited beauty. How can I let them tarnish you?" Not like the reputation of your Huanyue Sect is any better than that of Hehuan Sect. Also, what do you mean, "my A-Qiao"? Who's your A-Qiao?!

The innkeeper couldn’t help but smile and say, “The two gentlemen here are brothers, correct? You’re very close.” “We’re not brothers,” said Yan Wushi. “Ah,” said the innkeeper as he hesitated a little. “Then…father and son?” Yan Wushi didn’t say anything, only smiled suggestively at him. Then he glanced at Shen Qiao, before smiling again at the innkeeper. The shopkeeper had seen all types of people before, and dawning realization soon surfaced on his face. “It can’t be helped,” Yan Wushi said. “He’s been difficult the past few days, and we haven’t been getting along.” The innkeeper was incredibly adaptable. “They all say, with ten years of virtue, you’ll share the same ship of destiny, with a hundred years of virtue you’ll…you know.12 As the two of you are dragons and phoenixes among men, your friendship is likely extraordinary as well. Since you already have this shared destiny, you should make some concessions to each other. You know what they say: amiability is the key to prosperity!” Shen Qiao was silent. What do you mean, “you know?” Say it clearly!

The words he wanted to say turned in his stomach a few times, and just as he was about to say them, he heard a slight sound coming from Yan Wushi’s table. He couldn’t help but raise his head, just in time to see Yan Wushi’s head drop low as he coughed up blood. Shen Qiao’s face contorted in horror. All else flew from his mind as he hurriedly leapt up to support him. “What’s wrong? Was the wine poisoned?!” As Shen Qiao hadn’t touched the jug of wine, he immediately thought that the wine was the issue. And because this reminded him of his own experience with Joyful Reunion, his complexion looked even worse than Yan Wushi’s. But then, Yan Wushi suddenly smiled and pulled him into his arms. “Your panic reveals your concern. A-Qiao, your words truly don’t match your heart!” Shen Qiao stared at him. “You…you weren’t poisoned?” Yan Wushi wiped the bloodstain from the corner of his lips and said, “I accidentally bit my lip while chewing. I might have been too agitated.” Agitated to the point of vomiting blood? To hell with your lies!

Yan Wushi added, “Yuwen Xian was weak, but he was skilled with military administration, as well as an excellent commander. Even if he couldn’t have inherited Yuwen Yong’s legacy, he wouldn’t have squandered the family’s wealth entirely. Unfortunately, Yuwen Yong couldn’t break free from the shackles of tradition and insisted on his son inheriting the throne. His vision was far too narrow and shallow. He labored his entire life and ended up being killed by his son, and all his hard work has come to nothing. Such misfortune he brought upon himself!” He showed little respect for the previous emperor, his criticisms flowing forth the moment he opened his mouth. Anyone else hearing this would have been terrified out of their wits, but Shen Qiao couldn’t help but internally roll his eyes. He thought, Didn’t you get ambushed by those martial experts in the capital of Tuyuhun? You even ended up with a crack in your skull and almost lost your life. You call Yuwen Yong shallow, but where was your foresight then? Yan Wushi didn’t even turn back as he joked, “A-Qiao, I didn’t expect you, an upright gentleman, to develop the bad habit of silently cursing someone behind his back. That’s not good!”

Yan Wushi smiled and said, "If you dislike them, I naturally dislike them as well. Considering our relationship, if we don't present a united front, people will misunderstand, won't they?" What relationship? And people won't misunderstand if you say it like this? Shen Qiao was stunned by Yan Wushi's ability to argue black into white. "Sect Leader Yan worries too much," he said. "This humble Daoist isn't a member of Huanyue Sect. Even if Sect Leader Yan and I don't have a united front, no one will misunderstand."

“That’s fine,” said Yan Wushi. “It’s about time, anyway. With your current martial prowess, you might not be able to chop Yu Ai into eight pieces, but stabbing a sword through his heart should be doable.” Shen Qiao was left almost speechless. “Just because I’m going doesn’t mean I have to kill someone!” Can you not spout such bloodthirsty words all the time?

Yan Wushi's smile widened. "A-Qiao, are you worried about me?" "No," said Shen Qiao. "You're lying," said Yan Wushi. Shen Qiao said nothing. Then why did you even ask?

“That’s why you’re special,” said Yan Wushi. “These things are truly worldly possessions that you see as external to you. I’ve thought about it for a long time, but I couldn’t think of anything that I can repay you with, so I can only repay you with myself. What do you say?” Of course not! Shen Qiao was dumbfounded. When he saw Yan Wushi about to lower his head, he slammed a palm into his chest without hesitation.

Shen Qiao glanced over at Yan Wushi. His eyes were still closed; it looked like he’d fallen asleep. With Shen Qiao’s character, he’d never do a thing like shaking someone awake, but hurt suddenly burst inside his heart: You were the one who kept provoking me, but now you’re going to ignore me instead? Of course, Shen Qiao’s thoughts weren’t this straightforward, but this was the general idea.

Yan Wushi didn’t put up any resistance and let Shen Qiao drag him there. However, his face grew a little bit colder. “I helped extricate you from a predicament in the palace,” he said. “This is how Daoist Master Shen repays me?” What do you mean, extricate?! It’s obvious that you wanted to enter the palace to watch the show yourself!

“Do you know what I currently regret the most?” Yan Wushi suddenly asked. Shen Qiao looked back at him in confusion. His thoughts seemed to have been churned into paste by an invisible hand; even his gaze overflowed with bewilderment, and his hair was mussed from all the fondling. He was the perfect picture of an innocent, guileless little creature, just waiting for some evil-intentioned person to ravage him. “If I’d known this would happen,” Yan Wushi said, “I’d have bought all the residences within this alley.” What does buying residences have to do with regret? Shen Qiao wondered in a daze.

Yan Wushi’s tongue took the opportunity to invade even more deeply. Even the skin around his collarbone was stained with a dark blush. His breaths came in heaves, beyond his control. Yan Wushi didn’t forget to tease him. “If it’d been someone else who was full of malice, they’d never let you off so easily.” The person with the most malice is you!

Yan Wushi placed the pears back into the basket. “What should we bet this time? And Sect Leader Shen shouldn’t be too stingy.” Shen Qiao shook his head. “I’m not betting this time.” “Afraid now?” Shen Qiao thought, I’m afraid that you’ll come up with some new method to retaliate against me even harder if you lose. With how vengeful you are, Sect Leader Yan, you’re always able to concoct twisted ideas that no one else can, so there’s no way to guard against you. But ultimately, these words were too difficult for him to say because if he enraged or embarrassed Yan Wushi, the unfortunate one would always end up being Shen Qiao.

[sebsxphia]

just thinking about (preacher) rhett massaging your breasts because they're so sore and sensitive and how he likes it when milk leaks onto his hands :(( you're so sore and sensitive and he's just helping you.... :((

￫ a/n: thinking sooo hard about this, my dear anon! (for all intensive purposes, this action can happen in this universe. it’s an au.) a short drabble for the ‘ptolemaea. | the verses.’ universe.

￫ c/w: heavy religious themes, breast touching, breast milk, lactation kink and preacher!rhett abbott.

it was a horrible combination.

as you lay against your preacher’s chest and watched the small, grainy, motel television in front of you, you couldn’t find comfort. his old religious youth camp t-shirt was rubbing against your too sensitive nipples, yet holding them yourself couldn’t allow you to find the relief from the sore feeling.

you huffed out a disgruntled groan, as you slipped your t-shirt off in an attempt to try and soothe your ache.

“y’ okay, little lamb?” rhett cocked his head down to yours, as he registered how stiff you were sitting against him and your small pout on your lips.

“no.”

“what is it? hm?”

you palmed at one sore breast and groaned with annoyance again. you let out a mumble.

“i ache, everywhere. they’re s’ sore ‘nd feel so heavy, but i can’t fuckin’ touch them because they feel s’ sensitive.”

“oh, my poor little lamb.” he frowned and let his slender fingers move your hair from your neck, allowing himself to place a litter of soft kisses to your neck. “‘ere, let me help. maybe a different touch t’ y’ own will feel good.”

you were still sat against his chest, but he moved you between his broad thighs to allow his hands to cover your chest entirely. his hands were cool, but still warm against your bare flesh. he was firm with his touch as he massaged you, but still gentle as to not hurt you any further.

he practically had the hands of a god.

you let out your first whine of relief as his palms made work on kneading your aches out of your flesh. his rough fingertips were a stark, yet refreshing feeling, as he rolled your sensitive nipples between them. you let out a desperate whine as rhett finally released the building ache. as your milk leaked onto his hands in small dribbles, he choked back a groan.

he would deal with that later. his current priority was your relief.

sweet and pleasurable moans left your lips and your back arched into his touch. it felt as though he was clicking every bone in your body back into place. your eyelashes fluttered and a sleepy smile twitched on the corners of your lips. you were in bliss.

“feels s’ good, rhett. thank you.”

he hummed in response and pressed a kiss to your temple. “no need t’ thank me, darlin’. these are jus’ the hands ‘f god.”

[palesweetscherryblossom]

Fairytale au Drabble

Warnings: None, just pure fluff and Dabi having little to no rizz

Everyone and their mothers knew that one of the main ways to appease a fair maiden was with animals. Adorable bunnies, innocent lambs and pretty songbirds. It was common to hear ladies attempting to serenade unicorns or other creatures in the forest.

Unfortunately Dabi didn’t get the memo about being adorable. The sorcerer was much more adept in the art of being intimidating and violent rather than cute and snuggly. Fire-breathing dragon, venomous snake, a pitch black raven and the wolf were tools in his arsenal.

He sat in front of you, not a man but a large, hulking wolf. His head was low, almost submissive.

This had to be some sadistic trick, there’s no way that he was doing this unironically. “Oh my lord.” You muttered. It was strangely amusing in a morbid sense. Dabi, a fearsome man who had little to no mercy in his bones, was now acting like the beloved family pooch.

Dabi licked his nose. What? Did wolves not appease you? Maybe it was his scars? It wasn’t velvety pillows or cashmere.

A low, amused giggle left your lips. “Oh, this is just so…” You trailed off, lost for words. Dabi inched closer, which you backed up in return.

“T-that wasn’t an invitation to get closer!” You huffed. Dabi, shamefully, let out a low whine of frustration. Why was appeasing you so hard? You didn’t like dinner, you definitely didn’t like his gifts and you didn’t like this!

You frowned at him, pitying him. “Alright, I’ll humor you.” You crouched down, your gown pooling around you as Dabi leaned into your touch, thick tail wagging manically.

Yep, you were gonna be here for a while

@gh0stgirl333

[javiersprincess]

𝐓𝐇𝚬 𝐒𝐖𝚶𝐑𝐃 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝚬 𝐋𝐀𝐌𝚩

tags:18+ minors dni, fem reader, reader has lamb attributes, prone bone position, fingering, overstimulation, unprotected sex under the stars, creampie, mentions of vouyerism

synopsis: the chemistry between you and a certain bough keeper finally blooms with a night under the stars.

If one were to ask Dainsleif what was the catalyst for these events he would say he doesn’t know - whether this was a result of a slowburn of events or a case of him rushing into things head first like in his youth, he would not be able to say. All he knows is that he wants you - has wanted you since the moment you first smiled at him. So sweetly, so happily as if he was a man and not a rotted relic from a nation bygone to the world above. People with animal features are not usual in the world of Teyvat - cat, dog and foxes ears paired with tails are ever so present so it wasn’t surprising to see the rather endearing round ears of a lamb on top of your head, pressed against the fleece like texture of your hair. Of which is pressed into the ground as his hand molds into the shape of your head, his forefinger and thumb rubbing at the softness of your ear that can be felt even with his gloves on.

A part of him grows guilty - taking you from behind, pressed into the dirt it isn’t right, he should at least put his cape on the ground. That would be the right thing to do, the knightly thing to do but when you press closer to him, your undressed flank pressing to his front and your little cotton tail almost tickles the starved skin of his pelvis he can’t find himself to care about right and wrong. All he can think about is how your walls suck at the fingers that are in you, slowly curling to rub against the spongy nerves in your walls and you can only moan so softly when his thumb rubs against your clit.

Dainsleif hisses when you squeak his name, your blown out eyes looking over your shoulders to catch the pink on his cheeks and the barely contained groan ripping from his lips at how tight your cunt sucks at his fingers, blue eyes with stars in the center meet yours and you cum when he looks at you like he wants to make you his. Dainsleif groans, the flutters of your cunt and the way it soaks his hand, running from his fingers to his palms are all in time with how his cock aches in his pants. Your hands are clutching at the ground, nails leaving lines in the dirt when he pulls his fingers out - huffing at the ache of not being filled anymore, it pulls a laugh from him as he tugs away at his clothing as quickly as he can.

“Desperate are we?” He asks, voice rough by desire and by the annoyance of not being in you right now. You can’t even give him a vocal answer, only nodding and bending further down, presenting yourself to him as if you were in heat. Your tail trembles,raised and enticing and Dain can’t help himself to reach out to touch, to stroke the softness with his thumb. His cock, pink and ruddy is present when you moan at his touch to your sensitive tail, if you could look over rather than collapsing into your crossed arms at his touch you would have seen how his cock twitches at your sweet sounds.

“Come here, I won’t fuck you like an animal.” Dain grumbles, bringing his hands to your waist to press down, letting you lie flat on the ground as he crowds you from above. Your underwear is ruined, ripped and soaked from his fingers and the pretty skirt you wear on hot days is rucked up to your waist. Even your breasts that heave with each breath are free and they hover over the ground, your nipples puffy and tight for him to pinch at as he directs the shaft of his cock to the dripping slit of your cunt. When the head catches onto the opening he can’t help but hiss at how you whine, sighing so prettily at how he slowly inches his cock into you.

“Dain - please!” You whine, keening to high heaven as he gives you more and more, pressing a hand onto your back to keep you flat on the ground even as your back arches at the pleasure of being filled makes you bow into him.

“Shh, shh why do you cry sweet lamb? Am I not giving you what you want?” He rumbles from above, the scent of sex is so potent in the air if he were to wet his lips he’d taste your cunt in the air. You’re trembling beneath him, gasping and shaking with each breath as your fleece-like hair clings to your hot face. It takes you a minute to do anything but take what he gives you and as he finally is pressed against you again - your little tail tickling his exposed pelvis makes him laugh, breathlessly and emptily.

“You’re big - so big…ah…s’good.” You mutter, in shortened and sweet gasps that only break up more when he begins to fuck into you with slow, deep strokes that make you want to curl up into yourself to the point where you become a little speck rather than a person. You like it slow, he remembers from the time the two of you spent a night in a small hotel in between Liyue and Sumeru, and he could hear you pleasuring yourself with slow little touches to your clit and cunt. While Dansleif will forever bemoan his life as a sinner, a blasphemous man but still he has a man’s pride and to see how much he pleasures you to the point of tears from both your eyes and your cunt strokes his ego more than he’d like to admit.

“Sweet girl, shh, just take what I give you, can you do that for me?” He murmurs to you, one hand leaving your hips to grasp at your breast, fingers tugging at your tight nipple that it makes you mewl paired with the way his cock strokes at the nerves inside of you. You sigh, moan, cry, whine his name and each time it sounds more beautiful than the last iteration. Tight in the clutch of your cunt, your pliable flesh in his grasp Dain can’t help but think - is this what it’s all for? The destruction of his home, the failure of his duty and his suffering from then to now was all of it meant to make this moment with you all the more tantalizing sweet than it would have ever been? Dain can’t think about it anymore, not when he grunts when he feels you cum around him, your silken walls fluttering and milking at him with such desperation he wonders if you are trying to take his whole being into you and not just the physical.

“Dain, Dain - Dain! M’cumming, oh!” Your breaths are short and clipped, and you are tight but soft around him and he feels the tug of your cunt on his soul. He keeps you there, pressed into you even as you crumble beneath him to the point you go lax, thighs twitching as you take stuttering breaths. Your cunt burns, aches from the sensitivity and of being stretched so full in a way you’ve never been able to with your fingers alone. It’s sticky, wet and messy where you are connected - strings of your release clings to his skin and he can’t help but indulge in the cruel thought of fucking you fast and harsh unlike how he was before.

“More, give me one more.” He mutters into the fleece of your hair and the hand playing with your breast reaches down, down until it’s stroking at the wet nub of your clit and he picks up the pace again. Your breath goes from stuttered to haggard at the pleasure, it burns so good you feel the strings of pleasure ache in your lower belly from your sensitivity. Though strong of heart you are weak of body and you lack of stamina is demonstrated at how you ache with each swipe at your pearl as his cock fills you again and again. With your eyes blurry and hazy, you peer down your front to see where you are connected and you only gasp when you see the ring of sticky white that can be seen eahc time he pulls out only to fuck himself back in as the same white cream of your cum stains his still gloved left hand.

“D-did you cum in me?” You wonder, cunt clenching at the thought of a man like Dain giving you more than his cock but a physical reminder that he was deep inside of you. He grunts, sweat running down his temple as he feels his own hair begin to stick to the now pink tinted skin of his face.

“No, not yet,” He pauses to groan into your hair as he crouches down to press his front to your back and keeps his hips at the even pace he’s kept them at. His wrist burns and pleasure snaps at his spine and he knows this is it.

“It’ s just you so far.” He hisses into your ear, rubbing his not rotted cheek into the softness of your form, affection given in the middle of your coupling that makes your heart skip a beat and cum around him for the second time. It’s too soon, and the unexpected tugging of your cunt as you finish around him makes him come with a cut off groan of your name to the night sky above the two of you. He cums in you, it’s hot and thick and you even try to clench around what he spills into you as if to keep him inside you forever.

You both stay there, for a little while an Dain finds it hard to even think about the consequences of what follows from here on out. It doesn’t matter he thinks. You’ve turned your head and you press a fleeting kiss, something small an sweet just like you are and he finds it more charming than it should. You are warm, soft and sticky but he doesn’t think he is any different from you. Placing his hands on the ground next you he lifts himself up to press a kiss to your temple, you hum and he huffs seeing how that ever so cute tail of yours almost wags at the affection.

“Here, head back to the camp. I’ll get us water from the stream.” Dain says, reaching up to tuck back some hair from your flushed face. You nod, voice lost from all the noise you made and Dainslief is in awe at how beautiful you are, here under the stars and fucked out beyond what you’ve ever experienced before.

“Do you promise to comeback?” You ask, voice crooking and Dain can only nod, he can’t deny you anything. Not anymore.

It happens as he asked, together you sleep on your sleeping matts with the exception of now they are pressed together to form one big matt rather than on opposite sides of the fire like before. Dain doesn’t sleep right away, instead he watches you rest with your cheek pressed to his chest and thinks of you. Thinks of how he wants you, again and again until eternity comes to an end. He thinks of what you’d like for breakfast when dawn breaks and how he’ll carry you from the soreness of your legs. He thinks about keeping you safe, until his destiny comes to it’s end.

Most importantly, he thinks about how right now it doesn’t not matter. You are his and he is yours. That’s enough, no matter what it is the Seven or beyond say.

[see-arcane]

Having Bluebeard/Arabian Nights thoughts about our good friend Jonathan Harker and his cordial host today. The parallels have already been drawn elsewhere, but today's entry really hammered home certain points that were only hinted at previously.

The key one being Dracula going out of his way to talk about how he plans to acquire other solicitors for various needs once he's in England, implying Jonathan will be replaced. This means

A) Jonathan's services will no longer be needed and he can go home!

Or:

B) Jonathan's services will no longer be available, because he'll be dead.

Harrowing enough to consider with 50/50 odds of hope versus horror.

And then.

Then.

Dracula insists Jonathan stay with him another month. No reason given. Sure, the whole 'English lessons' thing might be an excuse he could throw in. But it's flimsy at best; he knows Jonathan is of a lower class. He wouldn't be trapped by his work obligations otherwise--Dracula doesn't want to speak like a humble English solicitor. He doesn't care that much about linguistic tutoring. Maybe there are a few odds and ends of business he feels like dragging out, perhaps, but why drag it out rather than be done with the work so he can sink his teeth in?

He's keeping Jonathan there because he can. Because he wants to.

(And, as we'll see in later entries, he's also going to the effort of keeping Jonathan safe and alive despite Other perils.)

Which leads to the obvious follow-up: Why does Dracula want to keep Jonathan around? I'd say it's because the Count is no more oblivious than Jonathan is. Dracula knows Jonathan knows the peril of his situation. And the fun of it--the 'I'll let you go on being alive/human a while longer if this is the entertaining payoff' of it--is that Jonathan can still mentally entice Dracula and maintain the act. Jonathan engages his ego. His sadism. His too-close intimacy. His attention, period.

I imagine there have been other menial workers or unfortunate visitors to the castle over the centuries who failed this particular trial, either out of fear or ire or bluster. Their bones are likely turning to dust in one of the rooms.

Regardless, Jonathan is already aware he's in danger and is t h i s close in the narrative to realizing that there's a fate even more unthinkable than death waiting for him around the corner. One that doesn't end with him just dying, but going on, bound to that castle forever. Yet the fact that this un-ending is even on the table, on top of the Count's decision to keep him locked in with him like a pet, still marks him as the clever, the endearing, the entertaining, the lucky-worthy Bride figure compared to anyone else before or after him who proved themselves unworthy of Dracula's patience or interest. A fatal offense.

Jonathan has been right all along. Because if he were not so appealing as a Scheherazade, so careful of a final Bluebeard bride, he would already have been muscled through his usefulness as an employee in a blink.

Right before Dracula, bored and bloodthirsty, slaughtered him like a lamb.

[sapphicreadsdb]

Hi do you by chance have any sapphic fantasy recs? preferably adult fantasy but YA is fine too

sure! tho this could will get quite long... no links, sorry!, bc it was kicking up a fuss with those for some reason

+ = ya

pennyblade by j.l. worrad

lady hotspur by tessa gratton

sofi and the bone song by adrienne tooley (+)

she who became the sun by shelley parker chan

the scapegracers by h.a. clarke (+)

the third daughter by adrienne tooley (+)

the daughters of izdihar by hadeer elsbai

the malevolent seven by sebastien de castell

blackheart knights by laure eve

the warden by daniel m. ford

the unbroken by c.l. clark

dark earth by rebecca stott

witch king by martha wells

scorpica by g.r. macallister

the mirror empire by kameron hurley

now she is witch by kirsty logan

silverglass by j.f. rivkin

the woman who loved the moon and other stories by elizabeth a. lynn

...(this answer is how i discover there's a character limit per block so. doing this in chunks.)

fire logic by laurie j. marks

a restless truth by freya marske

when angels left the old country by sacha lamb (+)

the traitor baru cormorant by seth dickinson

an archive of brightness by kelsey socha

the bladed faith by david dalglish

the winged histories by sofia samatar

dragonoak by sam farren

the forever sea by joshua phillip johnson

into the broken lands by tanya huff

the jasmine throne by tasha suri

daughter of redwinter by ed mcdonald

the last magician by lisa maxwell (+)

the fire opal mechanism by fran wilde

...

the black coast by mike brooks

high times in the low parliament by kelly robson

foundryside by robert jackson bennett

the enterprise of death by jesse bullington

mamo by sas milledge (+)

from dust, a flame by rebecca podos (+)

uncommon charm by emily bergslien & kat weaver

wild and wicked things by francesca may

the unspoken name by a.k. larkwood

brother red by adrian selby

the final strife by saara el-arifi

way of the argosi by sebastien de castell (+)

the bone shard daughter by andrea stewart

ghost wood song by erica waters (+)

into the crooked place by alexandra christo (+)

ashes of the sun by django wexler

the midnight girls by alicia jasinska (+)

the midnight lie by marie rutkoski (+)

the never tilting world by rin chupeco (+)

water horse by melissa scott

...

a master of djinn by p. djeli clark

the good luck girls by charlotte nicole davis (+)

among thieves by m.j. kuhn

black water sister by zen cho

the velocity of revolution by marshall ryan maresca

sweet & bitter magic by adrienne tooley (+)

the dark tide by alicia jasinska (+)

the library of the unwritten by a.j. hackwith

a dark and hollow star by ashley shuttleworth (+)

the chosen and the beautiful by nghi vo

the councillor by e.j. beaton

these feathered flames by alexandra overy (+)

the factory witches of lowell by c.s. malerich

fireheart tiger by aliette de bodard

...

city of lies by sam hawke

bestiary by k-ming chang

the raven and the reindeer by t. kingfisher

the winter duke by claire eliza bartlett (+)

master of poisons by andrea hairston

the empress of salt and fortune by nghi vo

night flowers shirking from the light of the sun by li xing

down comes the night by allison saft (+)

wench by maxine kaplan (+)

girls made of snow and glass by melissa bashardoust (+)

girls of paper and fire by natasha ngan (+)

the impossible contract by k.a. doore

burning roses by s.l. huang

the house of shattered wings by aliette de bodard

not for use in navigation by iona datt sharma

weak heart by ban gilmartin

girl, serpent, thorn by melissa bashardoust (+)

the devil's blade by mark alder

...

we set the dark on fire by tehlor kay mejia (+)

the true queen by zen cho

moontangled by stephanie burgis

a portable shelter by kirsty logan

sing the four quarters by tanya huff

all the bad apples by moira fowley doyle (+)

the drowning eyes by emily foster

the priory of the orange tree by samantha shannon

miranda in milan by katharine duckett

the afterward by e.k. johnston (+)

thorn by anna burke

penhallow amid passing things by iona datt sharma

in the vanishers' palace by aliette de bodard

summer of salt by katrina leno (+)

the gracekeepers by kirsty logan

out of the blue by sophie cameron (+)

black wolves by kate elliott

the circle by sara b. elfgren & mats strandberg (+)

unspoken by sarah rees brennan (+)

thistlefoot by gennarose nethercott

passing strange by ellen klages

(and breathe)

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

So it seems like your requests are open? Cool! I have an idea for COTL! Lamb! Reader is Narinder's chosen vessel rather than the Lamb, and they're EXHAUSTED after everything that's happened. So when Narinder summons them, they say "what if I say "no?"" Narinder just goes, "what?" And they respond "listen, I just died, watched my entire race die, and have been running for my entire life. Can I at least have a break before I get thrown into this?" I just thought it would be funny XD

"Come closer. Fear not, for though you are already dead....I still have need of you."

Standing silently in the white void, you gazed up at the giant feline bishop--a god chained as you, a sacrificial lamb, were now. His arms were stripped to the bone, iron clasps keeping him shackled to the ground and preventing him from freely moving them around too much.

Yet despite him being imprisoned like some caged beast...he seemed no-less revering, and you couldn't help but admire him..

Even if he is the reason you were sent to your death.

Lambs all over the Old Faith were murdered in cold blood, their children snatched and butchered and their villages sieged by the fanatics of the five ruling Bishops. You had been on the run for weeks, without knowing why exactly they targeted your kind specifically.

What did such peaceful wool-covered creatures ever do to deserve this sort of horrible fate?

Only after they have captured you did you realize you were the last living lamb...and that the Bishops put all the others to the blade for one reason:

A prophecy.

A prophecy that spoke of their banished brother--the "One Who Waits"--being freed from his chains by a lamb who'd serve as his vessel and destroy the ways of the Old Faith from the inside out.

For that, the Bishops left none alive in hopes of stopping the prophecy from ever taking place, wanting to ensure the "heretic" stayed in captivity forever.

However after your execution, their plan seemed to have gone awry...considering you, a lamb, stood before the very person they desperately didn't want you to see.

"Those foolish Bishops thought they could keep you from me in death, but instead they sent you straight to me!" Narinder boasted. "I will give you life again, but at a price."

You nervously gulped. "And..what would that be?"

"All I ask is for you to start a cult in my name. Do we have a deal?"

".....what if..I said no?"

"....what?" He narrowed his eyes in confusion, surprised that you didn't readily agree to his offer like other vessels before you. They all jumped at the chance to come back to life..but not you. He began to feel a little insulted.

"Do you take me for a liar, little lamb?" He sneered. "Have you no desire for vengeance against the ones who senselessly destroyed everything you knew and loved? Believe it or not, I can give you that power-"

"I-I absolutely believe you, my lord." You quickly backtracked, kneeling down in respect. "I want that more than anything. It's just...so much has happened all at once. My village burning down, my capture, my death...I haven't known peace until I was sent here. I think..t-taking a small breather first would help me feel better prepared to start a cult in your great name..."

You felt like you rambled a bit too long for his liking, seeing as his stoic expression didn't once waver. Even the smaller cat guardians flanking him hadn't moved an inch, although the one in a white cloak did open his eyes, flashes of concern in them.

Yet Narinder's silence was most discomforting, as you feared that you've angered him and he was going to revoke the offer.

Bowing your head even lower, you squeezed your eyes shut, trembling. "Forgive me, I-I spoke out of turn. I..don't think I'm the right fit to be your vessel-"

However you stopped all movements as you no longer felt the weight of the chains holding you down. And you realized they had disappeared, allowing you to move your arms freely.

Although your neck still ached tremendously...at least the clasp wasn't crushing it anymore.

"No. You are the one I need...for it cannot be anybody else." His voice purred, causing you to look back up at him. This time his gaze seemed softer. "I seldom know what has transpired in the realm of the living..seeing only mere glimpses of certain events. But you've given me better understanding of your tragic circumstances. So I will allow you a brief moment of tranquility to prepare you for your task ahead."

You lightly gasped, smiling as you jumped up into a standing position, hands clasped together in relief. "Oh, thank you so much-!"

"Do not assume I shall always be this charitable." His voice went right back to being condescending. "Take gratitude that I permitted this...and do not ask me for anymore favors henceforth. When you lead a cult, you may not always get "breathers"."

"..I-I understand." You rubbed your neck bashfully. "I appreciate this a lot."

"So I reckon we have a deal? When you're ready, I will guide you on what must be done, and you shall take the Red Crown atop my head to fulfill your mission."

"Very well. I shall gladly serve you and repay the debt I owe."

Narinder blinked, silent for a few long moments, before he grinned wickedly, sharp teeth spreading from ear-to-ear. All three of his eyes seemed to glow brighter.

"Excellent. You understand what must be done and already show such strong devotion to me...you'll be my finest vessel yet."

[blockgamepirate]

Bolas Rojas Playlist

And the Hero Will Drown : Story Of The Year

Evil People : Set It Of

Twist : Korn

It's Been So Long : The Living Tombstone

Breaking Me Down : Soil

Rules of Nature - Platinum Mix : Jason Charles Miller

Unsainted : Slipknot

oops! : Yung Gravy

Break Stuff : Limp Bizkit

Friday Night Fire Fight : Aligns, Rubicones

BlastZone (ЗонаПоражения) : BONES

SugarCrash! : ElyOtto

Aerials : System Of A Down

King For A Day : Pierce The Veil, Kellin Quinn

Down with the Sickness : Disturbed

Witness : Mindless Self Indulgence

Throne : Bring Me The Horizon

Numb : Linkin Park

Freak On a Leash : Korn

BREAK LAW : Dog Blood, Skrillex, Boys Noize

When It Cuts : Ill Niño

GAS GAS GAS - EXTENDED MIX : Manuel

Becoming Insane : Infected Mushroom

Bricolen : Copain du web

Duality : Slipknot

Waltz of the Meatball Man : Gooseworx

I'm Not Okay (I Promise) : My Chemical Romance

Ani Mevushal : Infected Mushroom, Bliss

Laid to Rest : Lamb of God

Before I Forget : Slipknot

Renegades Of Funk : Rage Against The Machine

Downfall : TRUSTcompany

Hate Crew Deathroll : Children Of Bodom

Savior : Rise Against

Given Up : Linkin Park

Falling Apart : zebrahead

B.Y.O.B. : System Of A Down

Wait and Bleed : Slipknot

The Hand That Feeds : Nine Inch Nails

Stricken : Disturbed

Toxicity : System Of A Down

People = Shitm : Slipknot

In the End : Linkin Park

The Government Knows : KNOWER

We're Beautiful : ABSRDST, Diveo

Ponyboy : SOPHIE

Dumbest Girl Alive : 100 gecs

GOTTASADAE : BewhY

NIGHTMARES : Alice Glass

Can You Feel My Heart : Bring Me The Horizon

Kingslayer (feat. BABYMETAL) : Bring Me The Horizon, BABYMETAL

Goat Type Beat : harvoYT

Du hast : Rammstein

Zombie : The Cranberries

Squishy Caterpillars Riding On Bullets : Istasha

Captions Are Automatically Generated . Istasha

Rédeas : Project46

Wherever I May Roam : Metallica

For Whom The Bell Tolls - Remastered : Metallica

Path Vol. 2 : Apocalyptica, Sandra Nasic

White Rabbit : Jefferson Airplane

Animals : Architects

Tokyo Drift (Fast & Furious) - From "The Fast And The Furious: Tokyo Drift" Soundtrack : Teriyaki Boyz

Roots Bloody Roots : Sepultura

Tenebre Rosso Sangue (ULTRAKILL Original Game Soundtrack) : Keygen Church

Parasite Eve : Bring Me The Horizon

We Got the Moves . Electric Callboy

EXILADA : NIKKO, Istasha

BRAZILIAN DANÇA PHONK : 6YNTHMANE, RXDXVIL

Flashback : MIYAVI, Ken Ken

Get Got . Death Grips

Controllah (feat. MC Bin Laden) : Gorillaz, MC Bin Laden

Hayloft II : Mother Mother

Automotivo Bibi Fogosa : Bibi Babydoll, Dj Brunin XM, KZA Produções

ワールドイズマイン-初音ミク「マジカルミライ 2021」Live- (feat. 初音ミク) : ryo (supercell), Hatsune Miku

Na Na Na (Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na) : My Chemical Romance

BxMxC : BABYMETAL

Not Gonna Get Us : t.A.T.u.

Pleasure Model : Noisia, Former

Volcano : Woodkid

Misfit Toys (from the series Arcane League of Legends) : Pusha T, Mako

Snakes (from the series Arcane League of Legends) : PVRIS, MIYAVI

Idiots Are Taking Over : NOFX

Dead Limit : Noisia, The Upbeats

Sober : TOOL

The Pot : TOOL

All Falls Apart : Polyphia

How I Feel : La Dispute

Given Up : Linkin Park

Run : Bring Me The Horizon

Still Waiting : Sum 41

Bodies : Drowning Pool

Side by Side : BewhY

Falling Away from Me . Korn

One Step Closer : Linkin Park

Your Betrayal : Bullet For My Valentine

Tears Don't Fall : Bullet For My Valentine

Vicinity Of Obscenity : System Of A Down

Papercut . Linkin Par

The Diary of Jane - Single Version : Breaking Benjamin

[roonotrue]

Cult of the Lamb: Redemption Chapter #4

TW: Depiction of painkilling herbs being eaten- aka one loopy-as-hell cat.

Realizations - Narinder

Narinder is not a poet. Not a writer, or a master of words.

So it is no surprise that Lamb's confession stunned him into silence.

"And I wanted you to care so much, but you didn't."

How is he supposed to care if he didn't fucking know? That's not fair of them to hold that against him. It's not fair for them to act like some heartbroken beau that he led on, and then tossed aside.

And then they had the audacity to leave before he could even find a way to respond.

He supposes a part of him is relieved they're not kneeling in front of him anymore while he's trying to sort through his thoughts.

They cared about him. What does that even mean? In the context of a god and a follower?

He thinks he knows exactly what Lamb means, but he'll be damned if he just assumes...

He tries to look back and pinpoint the moments that could give him some kind of hint, or insight into what they mean. Moments that he somehow missed the first time around.

But looking back, all of his memories feel hazy.

Like a terrible, violent fever dream of being so angry, in pain, waiting... Then the betrayal. Every time they try and think back on moments with the Lamb they are greeted by that moment.

When they refused to give the Red Crown back, and instead chose to raise their blade to him.

And every time he is reminded of that moment, he is filled with this cold, dead weight in his chest that he wants to call rage but he knows it's something different.

Hurt.

And hurt made him angry.

Why did it hurt so much? Because he let himself become fond of the wretched beast, he tells himself. He grew attached, even though he knew exactly how things were meant to end.

But they didn't end that way, did they? And now here he is. Alone.

Looking down at his bandages, he can still feel the cooling, refreshing sensation of the medical salve, easing the soreness of his wounds. It didn't help at all with the cramping in his muscles, or aching in his bones, causing the horrible shaking throughout his limbs.

But a feeling that trumps the cramping, or the cooling of the medicine are the traces... The traces of Lamb's touch linger all over his body. His arms, around his ankles, his back and torso. Everywhere he tries to focus his attention he feels them.

Such light, careful care, embedded all over him deeper than the injuries left by his chains.

It had made him forget how angry he was, and say things he shouldn't have... Feel things he shouldn't have.

Things like that horrible fondness, that make him want to hear Lamb's laughter again. That makes him want to hold them in his hand, and hope that they're bold enough to duck under his veil again so he can see them better...

They were so close to him, and when they pulled away, he grabbed them. Not wanting to lose the feeling. The momentary peace that being so close to someone after so long brings. Even if that person is them. The one who...

Who makes him so hurt and so angry every time he thinks about them. About what they did, or what they're doing now. Being so kind, and so damn sincere that he wants to believe them, but he can't.

He can't trust them, he or be fond of them, and he certainly can't care about them, because they took everything from him. His power. His divinity. His dignity.

The only thing they left him with is his life, and he's still 50/50 on whether that's worse.

His torso has yet to be bandaged. The lamb left so quickly, that he can only assume they are going to get this 'Miki' person to do the stitches and finish wrapping him up.

He doubts it will be the last time he sees Lamb while he's... 'Unwell' like this. So he needs to figure out what to say when they do come face to face again.

Does he need to say something? Does he want to say something? Should he confront them about the unfairness of this situation? Or just let it go and pretend it never happened?

Narinder has already come to terms with the fact that he's stuck accepting their help and afterward being stuck as a mere follower- he'll be damned before he has to do any pathetic chores or menial tasks though.

Now, though... He's conflicted. He had planned to ignore Lamb after he was healed and didn't need their assistance anymore... But he wants answers. He wants to know what Lamb means when they say they care, and why their admission confuses him so much.

Makes him want to clarify things.

Tell them that he might not have... Cared in the same way he thinks they mean, but that he had... Preferred them to... Past vessels?

Fates, he feels like a fool.

If he wasn't in so much pain, he'd throw himself back onto the bed and bury his head under the pillows to try and block out all these thoughts and feelings.

"Um... Hello? Narinder, sir? May I come in?"

He's still leaning over the bed, glaring daggers at the empty ground where Lamb had been when the clear-toned voice interrupts his inner conflict.

"Come in." He sighs, and the fennec fox's head pops through the curtains, looking around before stepping inside.

The light from outside has turned a deep orange and pinkish tone. The sun is setting.

She's holding a small wooden box of well-organized metal tools and supplies, and she strides up to him, holding her silence, and focused gaze as kneels behind him, and examines his back.

Narinder wants to whirl around and hiss at her to back the fuck up, but he doesn't have the physical energy or pain tolerance to do so.

"I'm guessing you're Miki?" He sighs, giving up on doing anything but sitting down and just dealing with whatever he's handed.

"Yes. I take care of most medical-related issues around camp. The Lamb was right, these do need stitches, a lot. I imagine it's just as bad in the front. Are these scars anything to worry about?" She points at the two identical scars running just below his pecs, and he shakes his head.

"No. I've had those since before all this. Top surgery scars, I don't think any of you followers know what that is..." He sighs, and she shrugs.

"We have top surgery, it's just not as... Safe. As it could be. I'm working on making it safer. We can talk more about it later because I do have questions regarding where your surgery was done and by whom, but for now..." She pauses to meet his gaze and holds up the curved needle in her hand.

"This is going to take a while so settle in and lay down on your stomach. I can offer you some herbs to numb the pain, but they'll make you very tired, and kind of loopy. It's up to you if you want them though." She steps back to give him space to move.

Lamb clearly didn't tell her that he can't move very well without help, and he isn't about to admit it.

So he settles for trying to force his body to move through the pain.

His back is the worst of it, digging a deep growl out of his throat as he tries to twist himself around, onto the bed on his stomach, without moving the blanket off of him and giving the poor follower an eyeful.

"Do you need assistance? I understand that you can't move very well, but I wanted to see it for myself to analyze. Can you describe the kind of pain you are experiencing?" Ah, so she does know.

"It's a cramping. So bad that I can't stop shaking, or get my limbs to do what I want. My back and legs are the worst." He explains as she places a slightly too firm grasp on his shoulders and mildly manhandles him to lay on his back.

Giving her a full view of his injuries.

"Hmm. I have dealt with a few similar cases in people who haven't moved for long periods, usually only a few months, but years... Well, I'll tell you now, it's not an easy fix. Do you want the herbs? They won't take effect immediately, but it will make everything less painful, stitches and cramping. They'll also probably put you to sleep for the rest of the night." She talks slightly faster and far more monotone than he expected for someone who follows Lamb.

Something about the lack of emotion in her voice creates a professional air in the whole shelter. An air that makes him feel far safer than he's felt in his entire time being here.

"I'll take them. How do I get rid of the cramping?" He asks as he hears her shuffling around the supplies.

She moves around and he turns his head to look at her as she holds out a small leaf-bound bundle, he swallows it quickly as the bitter taste nearly makes him gag.

"I don't want you to push yourself too much because of your outward injuries, but the only real way to help regain your strength and control over your limbs is to exercise and stretch them. Water therapy would be best, but submerging your stitches isn't an option." She explains, her hands poking and prodding at his back, pulling painfully at some of the deeper wounds.

Far less gentle than Lamb had been.

"Watch it." He hisses, in pain, and then lets his curiosity win. "And what's water therapy?"

"Swimming, essentially. A gentler alternative to normal physical therapy. Either way, you'll need someone to oversee it, myself ideally, but I can train the Lamb to aid you instead if you are not comfortable with my presence." He only hums in response.

His body doesn't hurt as much, and as she said, he's becoming drowsy. His eyelids are heavy, and the shaking in his arms is subsided. He hardly even feels the sharp piercing as it follows a horizontal path around his waist.

He's half asleep when it stops and moves up around his left shoulder blade. Then right. Then the same monotone voice asks him to turn over so she can 'evaluate the damage'.

He would think that the newfound lack of agony coursing through his bones would make it much easier. Instead, the fatigue pulls him down and makes his whole body turn to dead weight. She's talking again, and he peeks his eyes open but quickly decides that whatever it is, isn't as important as sleep.

So he closes them again.

~~~

"You've done well vessel. Soon enough, my chains will be broken, thanks to your ruthless efficiency." He's staring at them, as they sit in his hand, only a few inches from his face.

They're awfully silent this visit. Usually, they break into a ramble about the crusade they had just died during, or the way things around the cult are going. And Narinder would listen. Their voice is soothing. Easing the burning tension in his body the moment they arrive, and look up at him with that radiant smile, so overjoyed to see him again.

~~~

He opens his eyes when there are small hands- the fennec fox's hands trying to lift him to roll him over. He can't recall her name... Miku? Mimi? Something like that. She curses under her breath.

He tries to aid her in her weak attempts, even though his mind is hazy. But he must have done something right because now he's on his back, and the piercing is on his stomach now so he closes his eyes again.

 ~~~

He likes this one. This vessel. A small, innocent-looking Lamb, with all the fire and maliciousness of a thousand suns, scorching all who stand against them. Yet when they stand before him, they are soft-spoken. They laugh a lot, usually at something he does or says.

He doesn't know what's so funny, but the sound is like music, so he doesn't question it.

Others, like Ratau, were weak, but not just that, they were so... Boring. They didn't speak much, didn't respond well, and only ever bowed to him before being sent back to the overworld. 

~~~

When he opens his eyes again it's to the sound of Lamb's voice.

"Narinder, I'm just gonna help hold you up while Miki wraps the bandage around you- oof! Okay- this, uh, this works. I guess." Their laughter is nervous, hesitant, and not the carefree one he would much rather grace his ears.

He is leaning forward, his head resting against them. They don't smell like blood, or death like he expects now that they are the God of Death. No, they smell like they always have. Like wildflowers, and fresh air after rain.

They're warm, and he bunts his head against the side of their face, before burying it into their neck, shutting his eyes again.

~~~

"What troubles you, my vessel? You have not spoken, by now Aym and Baal are ready to kick you out themselves." He chuckles, as he looks down at the mentioned twins, who side-eye glance at each other and shrug in agreement to the statement.

His dear Lamb looks up with startled eyes, and he can't help but chuckle. They must not have realized how obvious they were being...

"Nothing! Really it's nothing, well, not nothing, nothing, just... I want to tell you something, but it's hard to... Word. And I don't think that right now is the best time..." They ramble now.

Perhaps he shouldn't have said anything...

~~~

He opens his eyes this time because Lamb laughs again. A good laugh at something the small fox said. Soft, but sincere, and he can feel it reverberate through their chest. He wraps his arms up and around them to pull him closer and they become stiff as a board.

He doesn't care though, as his hands rest at their waist, and a deep rumbling is sounding from somewhere... Is it coming from him? Is he purring? He hasn't purred in a long time, and it's hard to recognize the sound.

He shoves his face into his Lamb's soft wool as he closes his eyes for what's hopefully the final time...

~~~

"Silence, Lamb, you need not speak of it if you wish not to. I only wish to know, so that I might ease the worries off of your face. I much prefer your smile." He raises his other hand to lift his Lamb's chin carefully with the tip of his clawed pointer finger.

They smile as they meet his eyes, but it is still nervous, and unsure. They glance away from him, their eyes darting around the afterlife, refusing to meet his gaze.

"I... Appreciate that, but I think I'll save what's on my mind for later. How about after I've gotten you out of these chains? Deal?"  They now look a bit more energetic, as they jump up, and duck down, and before he has time to process it...

There they are. Underneath his veil, peering up into his blood-soaked eyes. Smiling, without a care in the world, as if what they've just done isn't enough to get them massacred by any other God in their right mind.

They lean against his nose, and he is suddenly hyper-aware of the fact that they smell like wildflowers and fresh air after rain. Such a refreshing... Lively scent. As if they aren't working for the God of Death, but rather frolicking fields with a God of Life.

They rest their arms on his snout and blink up at him, tilting their head ever so slightly in curiosity when he remains still in stunned silence.

They then laugh when he laughs, and he wants them to stay right there for as long as it might take for him to grow sick of their presence. But he's not sure when that might be. A century or two? Maybe three if they don't run out of things to talk about too quickly.

But alas. There are still Bishops to defeat, a cult to maintain, and chains to be broken.

Perhaps before he has them kneel to sacrifice themselves to him, he can ask them what it is they had planned on saying.

"Deal."

~~~

He wakes one final time when he's being carefully laid back onto the mattress and a soft voice is mumbling. His Lamb's voice.

Something about changing the bed sheets in the morning, and the current ones being bloodied.

"Lamb..." His voice is so quiet, it's a miracle he can even hear himself.

He has a tight hold on their fleece.

"Yes, Narinder?" Their voice is wobbly, and he tries to force his eyes open.

He wants to see them, but he's so tired.

"You planned to confess... After I was freed... How could I not see that you..." How could he not realize that they loved him?

Was he so oblivious? He could have read their mind at any time, but he didn't... He could have seen their feelings. He could have also seen their betrayal coming, but somehow, this is less important than their feelings.

"I... You're all loopy, Nari, go to sleep, and I'll bring you breakfast in the morning." They pry his hand off of their fleece, and he lets them, with a soft hum.

"Nari? I like that..." Nari. His siblings used to call him that when he was still very small, but stopped when he got older.

When he got the Red Crown.

"Hm. I'll call you it more often than if you promise not to try and kill me when you're less high." They stand up and pull one of the blankets up over him, and then they're walking away.

No. Stay.

Please stay.

His brain screams, but his mouth can't keep up, and the fog in his mind is so heavy and his limbs are so heavy and his heart is so heavy, and everything is just so damn heavy...

His heavy thoughts fill with thoughts of Lamb. His Lamb. Who smells like wildflowers and fresh air after rain. His Lamb. Who he was once so fond of, but now can't bring himself to feel such fondness without it reside beside pain. And anger. And distrust.

And they are in pain, angry, and distrustful too.

So how do either of them fix it?

~~~

When he wakes up he is alone, and his head is still hazy, and his body is in agony.

Stiff, and sore, his torso is immovable, a dull throbbing making him groan in pain. His arms and legs hurt just the same but aren't as bad as they were.

Maybe he's just too focused on his torso to care about the tremors as they start racking his arms again. Or, maybe it's the haunting realization of his own drug-induced actions last night that really keeps him frozen in his place, eyes wide, staring at the ceiling.

He didn't know he could be so... Touchy. When tired. But the smell of them is still swirling around in his mind, and it makes it hard to focus on anything else he did.

He doesn't remember all of it, not clearly anyway, from having been in and out of consciousness. But he remembers the moment Lamb arrived. When they laughed. When he leaned forward onto them. When he shoved his head into the wool on their neck. When he started purring so deeply he could feel it vibrating his whole body...

The room is cleared of all medical supplies, and the nightstand is cleaned off.

He's not exactly sure what time it is, or how long he's been asleep, but he knows, from the light slowly brightening around the edges of the window and doorway curtains that it's close to morning.

And that Lamb promised to bring him breakfast. So he needs to get his thoughts in order quickly.

He still needs to confront Lamb about their sudden admission to him. Then about that day... That distinct memory replaying in his mind helped him connect the dots even in his herb-induced state.

Lamb had wanted to confess to him after they freed him, and he...

Guilt is still a foreign emotion to him. He used to feel it in small amounts when he was a child and would get into spats with Leshy, or Heket and say something he didn't mean.

The worst time was during a thunderstorm that he had gotten caught in on his way back to the temple. He doesn't remember where he was returning from or when the first strike of thunder sent him running out of his own damn skin, but he does remember hiding.

Hiding, terrified in the small hollow of an old tree trunk. The mud soaking around his feet, and the bottom of his robe. When Shamura found him he was so afraid he hadn't wanted to get out from under the trunk, and when his older sibling reached in to grab him, he'd just... Lashed out.

His claws hooked on Shamura's forearm damn good, and he knew he drew blood when they tried to pull away and his claws yanked out of the skin it was caught on.

He felt the wave of guilt hit him harder than the fear and strike as quickly as the lightning of the storm around him.

And no matter how many times he apologized, or how many times Shamura tried to assure him it was alright, he was haunted by the feeling.

The guilt. That made his heart sink like lead in water every time he saw the paper-thin scars on Shamura's arm.

But all those times happened long ago before he was even given the Red Crown. Since then, this degree of guilt has snuck up on him twice. Both because of Lamb.

When he had snapped at them the other and they rushed out of the room on the verge of tears, and then now.

Feeling this overwhelming guilt because of this horrible realization that the entire time he had been waiting for the day they would sacrifice their life to him...

They were waiting to tell him that they were in love with him.

He wonders how they felt in that moment. The second he asked them to kneel, did they feel the same sinking dread in their chest that he felt when they chose not to?

Did they feel the same horrible dread when they marched to their death earlier that year, standing before his kin as they prepared to kill the final lamb?

If so then it truly confirms the thought that's been plaguing him for the last hour.

He's no better than them. Hell, he might be worse. At least they didn't trick any of the lambs they were slaughtering into trusting them. Or become selectively blind when said lamb fell in love with them.

Speaking of the new God of Death...

The moment that they knock on his door and step through the curtain with a soft, sad smile, and a warm breakfast in their hands he realizes something that makes all of his other realizations that much more horrid...

He never would have asked them to kneel, if he had known they loved him.

Maybe I even would have...

"Morning, Nari. I brought another mixed meal, everything is bland and seasonless, but there's a bit more variety. I'm also going to get started on those upgrades for your shelter. Nothing perfect, but function for now." They sit on the bed next to him, and he's glad to find that he can sit up a little easier on his own, without as much pain as before.

At least in his arms. His torso is irritated and sore as shit. Lamb moves to grip his arm and help him, and he bites his own tongue to stop from purring at the touch.

The herbs clearly haven't worn off completely just yet...

Looking them in the eye there are a million things he wants to say but what comes out isn't exactly what he's expecting.

"I'm sorry."

A simple two words as Lamb sits beside him to help him eat, just like they've done the day before. They freeze in place, staring at him with widened eyes, and he stares back.

As stunned as he is, he's surprised to find that he doesn't regret the words.

He's not sure that his own anger has subsided. Hell, looking at them now, glancing at the Red Crown on their head that was once his... He can still feel the flickering flames of frustration, and the much stronger flame of humiliation and embarrassment.

But neither are as strong as they once were. The raging wildfire has died down, turning to something more... Tired.

He just wants all this pain to stop, and to be able to move freely again.

He wants to be free.

It's all he thinks he wants anymore. Before the desire for freedom lived closely beside his desperation for revenge.

To destroy the other Bishops. His family. Make them pay for locking him up in the first place.

At some point... Maybe after the thousand-year mark, or maybe two thousand years, freedom became his main priority.

Revenge became an... Added bonus.

And now? It's all he's been thinking about- thoughts of Lamb not counting.

Wanting so desperately for the pain to subside so that he can once again see the world outside of this shelter.

And all the anger still buried inside is just a footnote in comparison to that desire.

So when he looks into the Lamb's eyes and sees their confusion, he doesn't have it in him to take the words back or snap at them.

He can't forgive them, at least not now. Perhaps not ever. But he knows he's tired of being mad. Tired of lashing out every time they reach out to help, and then feeling guilty an instant later.

And he is Sorry.

Sorry that he didn't know. Sorry that he never gave them a chance to tell him. Sorry, that...

In the end, he really wasn't any better than his siblings. Maybe he still isn't. He's not sure anymore.

What he is sure of, is that even if he's still angry, they have a right to be angry too, and yet...

They're helping him anyway. Caring for his wounds, feeding him, helping him move, and upgrading his shelter so he doesn't have to leave if he doesn't want to, and can just spend the rest of his immortal life locked indoors...

And all he's doing is complaining, snapping at them, and making them cry.

Even his shitty siblings, if they were here, would agree that that's not fair.

"You're... Sorry?" They repeat, head tilting, unsure, and stiff as a board.

"Yeah." He wants to lean forward towards them again but resists, grabbing the blankets below him just to keep himself anchored in place.

"I'm still angry at you. So... So angry. I hate that you spared me. I hate how pathetic, weak, and humiliated I feel. I hate that you're the one that's made me feel this way... But I... I recognize that you're angry too and that what I did was not... I shouldn't have... Fuck, I don't know..." He sighs, lifting a hand to drag down his face, and pausing to think of his next words carefully.

At this point he's glaring down at his remaining hand as his claws dig into the blanket, refusing to look back up at Lamb.

"I don't know that I regret what I did, but I regret that I hurt you when I did it. I regret that I didn't know because if I did... I'm not sure things would have played out the way they did. But we can't change that now, so I'm sorry. Sorry, that I was, and that I have been, ignorant." He finishes his botched apology.

It's not elegant. Not exactly what he wants to say either, but it will have to do, because now his head hurts.

He just wants them to respond already, but glancing up, the deep frown and contemplating look on their face tells him their gonna need a minute.

A long. Long minute.

"You're wrong..." They breathe, the words a whisper in the silent room.

His eyes dart to theirs, but they carefully avoid his questioning gaze.

"Do you remember much of last night? When you were talking to me before I left?" They ask, setting the bowl on the bed beside them, and bringing their hands into their lap, twiddling their thumbs.

I remember I didn't want you to leave...

"I remembered the day you ducked under my veil. The action distracted me from the conversation, but I remembered it last night. That day... You were planning to tell me that you... Cared." He doesn't dare say the real word. Not out loud. "Weren't you?"

"I was. I had this silly idea that... That after you were freed, I would confess, and you would accept, and I would show you the camp and everything I've built for... For you. And that maybe we could... I don't know. It's stupid, thinking about it now." They stand up and move around the bed towards the window.

Still avoiding his eyes, as they follow their movements with far too much interest.

Lifting a hand, with a single finger he cracks open the curtain just slightly, letting the morning light peek inside, as they look out.

"But then... Everything happened... You were right when you called me weak. When you were defeated, and I had the choice to spare or kill you, I was weak. I couldn't bring myself to do it, because a part of me still hoped that if I spared you, you would..." They let out a shaky sigh, and finally turn to look at him.

A pleading look in their eyes, begging him to understand so they wouldn't have to say it out loud.

"Oh." A dim response. But what the hell else could he say?

"Yeah. Oh." They give a dry laugh, and move back, sitting on the edge of the bed, before sliding down onto the floor.

They rest their hands over their eyes.

"But you're wrong about me being angry at you. I'm angry at myself, and every time I look at you I'm just... Miserable. Sad that nothing happened the way I wanted it to, and now here we are. You're wounded and in pain, and I'm so conflicted and confused about this." They motion up to the Red Crown.

"I mean, I'm a god now. I never planned on that! I've been leading this cult with the expectation that you'd take over once I freed you, but instead, I'm going to be their leader for who knows how long! And I can't even get half of them to stop wanting to eat their own shit!" Their voice rises the more they rant, and he snorts at the last part.

"Yeah, well, followers aren't as smart as they used to be. Back when The Old Faith was at its best, Shamura had a strong school system in place, and Kallamar was an expert in medicine and hygiene, sharing his knowledge with his most devout so that they could spread the word of what is and isn't good for you. Such as eating shit." He comments, a small smile gracing his face.

"But that was... A long time ago. Since my imprisonment, the Bishop's wounds, and the genocide of the lambs, everything has deteriorated. Now those who remain are just trying to survive. No shepherd to guide them." Another realization, he notes as he speaks.

"You are the only god remaining now, Lamb. The only one that can create so much as a semblance of society, so that they no longer have to struggle. So that they can actually enjoy life before their bodies wither, and they have to surrender their souls to you. The new God of Death." He sits up and tosses his mildly aching legs over the side of the bed.

Moving as slow as he can for his torso's sake, and relying solely on what little arm strength he has, and a bit on gravity, he pushes himself down onto the floor. Next to Lamb. The blanket is dragged down with him.

"Well, that really makes me feel better." They grumble, looking at him and his tail involuntarily brushes against their arm, an attempt at comfort.

"I'm not trying to make you feel better-" Liar. "Just telling the truth."

"... I've been leading them long enough to know what I need to do, I just don't know how. Some of my more valued followers like Noon, and Miki are trying to help, but neither of them knows much about the divine aspect of it, like shepherding souls, maintaining the afterlife, etc..." They lift a hand up, grabbing the crown of their head and bringing it down in front of them to examine.

"I do." He blurts, not fully thinking about how much it sounds like an offer.

They too jump, head darting to look at him.

"You'll help me?" They ask, disbelief heavy in their voice.

"Maybe. If your cult doesn't fall apart before I can breathe without pain, then maybe- and that's a very strong maybe. I'll consider giving you some pointers on how to be a proper God of Death. A way to earn your forgiveness, since I doubt my words mean much to you." He subconsciously moves his tail again, brushing it along the side of their face.

When he sees it, he quickly grabs the offending part and pins it to the ground. He's grateful when Lamb chooses not to mention it, only glancing at the now pinned tail with a soft giggle.

A giggle that makes his fur stand on end in a fluttering feeling he can't even begin to identify.

Embarrassment. That's what he's going to call it. Embarrassment.

"They do mean something, Narinder... I know it took a lot for you to say them, so thank you, for apologizing..." Their smile drops, and they turn their gaze away.

"But?" He can feel it coming from a mile away.

"But I think it's going to take a lot more to fix things than an apology. I'm still not even confident that when you get better you won't just try to attack me and get the crown back then..." They're right to be paranoid about that.

He's thought about it. A lot.

Is still kind of thinking about it.

"Right. Well, I don't plan on doing that right now, we'll see about later though." He can't help but smirk at the small glare they send his way.

"I guess I can live with that. And for the record, I'm sorry too. Not for choosing not to die, but that you feel weak and humiliated because of me. But you should know, Narinder, that you are not pathetic. You're strong, and I beat you by a hair, and now, here you are, dealing with a pain that no normal mortal alive could tolerate... You're..." They pause, meeting his eyes for a long moment.

There's something there. Something akin to adoration- much like the kind they used to wear on their face when they looked up at him when he was a god.

It makes his fur stand on end again in embarrassment.

Embarrassment that's all it is.

He has to break eye contact, turning to look at the window, and flinching when light hits his eyes. The small opening Lamb made earlier still bleeding light into the room.

They notice his flinch.

"Oh, right, your eyes. Sorry." They stand up, quickly, moving a single step forward to close the curtain properly.

"It's fine." He hadn't even realized how close they'd been. It was just so natural. Being so close to them...

It felt strangely right.

Now though, with the distance between them, the spell is broken. Even they seem to realize it.

"Right well, I do have a lot to do today so... Why don't I switch your bedsheets, get you back in bed, get you fed, and then work on those shelter upgrades, hmm?" There is a newfound pep in their step.

And in a second they're bouncing across the room with an energy that does not match the conversation they've been having for the last half-an-hour.

A mask. One that they put on so easily it's almost frightening.

But he doesn't complain. He's gone through enough emotions to last him a week, and right now, he just wants to eat and go back to sleep.

Of course, Lamb isn't going to make it that easy.

"Sooo, about last night, was it the herbs that made you all cuddly or am I just that adorable?" They look back at him with a teasing smile that could light up the darkest of nights.

"Shut the fuck up-!!"

~~~

Fun fact: Miki is based on one of my favorite followers from my first-ever game, a game that my little cousin ended up deleting when I let him play on my Switch. That's the real betrayal here. I still haven't forgiven that 11-year-old punk.

I'm thinking about making an 'introduction to the featured and background OC's post.' What do y'all think?