#SUFFERING AND DEATH AND AGONY AND MAYHEM

[necroarchy]

❥     𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐄  𝐓𝐇𝐄  𝐇𝐀𝐍𝐃  𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓  𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐓  𝐘𝐎𝐔  ,  𝐀  𝐆𝐀𝐌𝐄  𝐎𝐅  𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒  𝐒𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄   𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑  . --- accepting @throned: ❛  we  should  be  honest  with  each  other  ,  don’t  you  think  ?  ❜ varian to arthas. :')

Within his chest is a graveyard.

Here rest his lungs, gone still at last. Never mind how they might sometimes inhale, and half-taste the air outside --- cadaveric spasms are a common affliction, and unworthy of attention. Look in vain for a hitch in them as Varian approaches, and fills the air between them with his dagger voice. Turn to his long-lost heart, and listen for the drumming that shall never again increase. Do you see? Do you understand yet?

Thirty years between them, and here he stands at last. Unaffected.

“ Have I ever been less? ”

You could float on a voice this light. Breathe it into your own lungs, and suffocate in joy at the sensation. 

     ( Not that he knows. Breathe. Suffocate. Concerns of a mortal nature. Beneath him now. )

Before him, Varian hardly seems something real. Flesh and blood are such petty materials to compose his form --- and yet that is all there is to him, thumping heartbeat and jungle heat nauseating with so little distance between them. Arthas must focus on the lines of his face to quell his disgust. He counts every grey hair he can see bound in that ridiculous style.

( There are so many now.

    There is so much you never --- )

 “ I find little use in deception anymore. Nothing ruins a man half so well as the truth. ” His lips pull back into a rictus grin. “ Particularly one such as you. ”

[ryverbind]

Faceless Fixation (Sal Fisher): Viper of Fear [16]

I'm crouched behind the one piece of protection I was able to find in this abyss of unspoken horrors. This battle ground of malice and revenge. 

My heart pounds against my ribcage, a war drum thrumming within my own body. My chest is splattered with the lost hopes and dreams of my enemies. My veins are filled with the icy bite of fear-- fear that strikes with the accuracy of a viper. 

This is a wasteland. What once was is nothing anymore. The ground beneath me held up opportunity mere minutes ago, all for it to be stripped away in a moments notice. And it's all my fault.

The surface beyond my safe space is riddled with the neon blood of my foe. Synthetic shotgun shells cover the floor, acting as hell's very own field of bones. The desert scene that earlier reflected a symbol of goals I never thought I'd achieve now mimics Vlad the Impaler's wet dream. 

I take a shaky breath, adrenaline pumping through every millimeter of my being as I listen to the war waging behind me. I don't spare even a simple glance over the box I'm hiding behind. This box is the stone that Arthur's sword once resided in-- this bitch will never break as long as I believe in it.

My fingers flex around the weapon in my arms, my muscles tense and my mind alert. If I'm not on edge at all times right now, I'll get caught. And getting caught means death. All hell has broken loose amidst the cloud of contentment that blinded me just minutes ago. I should have know that karma and revenge go hand-in-hand. They're best friends. They are a repeated process and know each other good and well. 

I acted on revenge, and karma was quick to collect my debt. 

"You've been hit by..." my heart stops upon hearing that deep, sultry, amused voice. He's having the time of his life, relishing in the screams of his victims. "You've been struck by..." I hear the barrel of his gun snap, releasing a plague of venom upon the person at his mercy. And the sufferer bellows in agony, spreading their unfortunate and horrific fate to me. I sympathize, my heart skipping a beat. I'm trapped in the clutches of hesitance, of terror. I squeeze my eyes shut. "A smooooth Larry Johnson!"

I swallow thickly, a guilty grin quirking my lips. Everyone's fair game to Larry right now. We aren't his friends at the moment, we're pawns in his chaotic chess game.

I set my gun on my knee, wiping my clammy palm against my chest. My hand comes up sticky though, so I look down at it, grimacing at my neon orange skin. I chew on my bottom lip, contemplating the memory of how I became covered in paint.

The issue with my win against Sal earlier is that I expected him to silently fume over his loss. I wasn't prepared for him to throw paintballs into his mag and pelt me with three almost immediately. I was too confident. Overzealous. And... I guess I had it coming.

I can't wipe the image of that moment out of my head, when I finally looked up at Sal to see him stalking over to me with a fire in his pretty blue eyes. As soon as our gazes clashed, he launched into fighting position with his gun up, aimed at me, and at the ready. His finger slammed on the trigger with no regret, effectively slathering me in the ugliest colors I've ever seen. What's worse is that he came at me short-range, so my gut and chest are throbbing in pain. Probably have some bruising, but hey, that's game. This is war.

What I want to know is how the hell Sal and Larry know how to work a paint ball gun. I underestimated my enemies.

First rule of gaming and life: never, under any circumstances, underestimate the enemy. And for fucks sake, double tap! Don't be like me, apparently.

Larry very thankfully moves away from me, probably laying his mayhem upon Ash somewhere else in this tumultuous room.

No one has found me yet, and it's already been about a full five minutes since the metaphorical shit hit the fan. I guess physical shit too, seeing as we've completely wrecked this photoshoot set. I kind of feel bad for The Faces; no one's ever going to give them this opportunity again.

I hear Todd yelp somewhere in the distance and my body stiffens up automatically. I can't afford to feel false security in such a dangerous situation. This box of props isn't my savior, nor will it ever be. I have to be prepared no matter what.

I feel a brush against my leg, so I whip my head to the side half expecting a threat and half expecting me to just have been stupid and hit the wall. Preparation can work or it can backfire, but it's better than walking through the unknown.

But seeing Sal crouched beside me makes me want to bolt into the crossfire that Larry's creating.

And Sal hasn't noticed me yet either. He's simply hiding from Larry too, trying to escape the fiend his step-brother has become. His gun is propped on his knee, his finger hovering over the trigger in fear of being found. His sapphire colored hair is stringy from sweat, sticking to his neck and prosthetic. Dots of neon green and orange are littered along the long strands, his fringe much the same. He pants heavily, probably from bolting across the room as quickly as he could. His chest rises and falls quickly, the action attracting my gaze. And then his eyes that map out the battle ground behind the box we're both hidden behind-- his cerulean gaze that swallows me whole no matter when or how I get to see them. And those beautiful, veiny, bruised hands of his that handle the weapon in his arms like he has the strength and confidence of all the mightiest men in this world.

He glances down at his gun, using his hand to swipe a patch of neon green off of his black gun. But when he looks down, he also spots my boot.

I gulp, the viper of fear sinking its venomous fangs into my skin. It was only a matter of time-- I should have snuck away while he was still distracted. But as I said, karma and revenge work hand-in-hand. 

Sal's head snaps up, shocked gaze meeting my own. As soon as he realizes who he's looking at, the emotion in his eyes flips completely, turning into a horrendous glare. And there's nothing I can really do but wait for him to probably shoot me again. It's better than risking an onslaught from Larry-- I'm actually scared of him. Kinda relieved that Ash and Todd have to face him instead of me. 

"Bitch," Sal bites out quietly, trying to make sure that Larry doesn't find him. "Fuck you."

My lips quirk into some kind of sneer and grin. If this is all he'll do then maybe it's time to repeat the karma-revenge process. I'm about ready to get back at him for bruising my ribs earlier. "Yea," I whisper back harshly, "I bet you want to." 

Sal's piercing eyes narrow and a wave of impending doom and ferocity carves away at my insides. I can feel the sting of murderous intent like flames licking at my skin. Maybe I need to reevaluate my life choices.

He doesn't say a word-- doesn't drone about how much he hates me or how I'm nothing compared to him. He just lifts one hand from his gun and slams it into my throat, his fingers gripping my skin tightly and robbing me of fresh air.

I choke on the sudden pressure on my airways, leaning forward to try and relieve myself even if just a bit, but Sal doesn't let up. He only yanks me closer to him. It's almost embarrassing that he knows what turns me into putty in his hands-- we've only been doing this for two days. But it seems that anger and aggression is his go-to when it comes to me, whether he truly feels it or he's just trying to wrap me around his finger.

I swallow, taking quick and raspy breaths as I look into his eyes that are mere centimeters away from mine. His bright blue irises hold so much intrigue, so much contempt. Every shade of blue, every fleck of golden stardust in his gaze resents me. I'm borderline obsessed with the way he hates me at this point. It's such a strong emotion, to be loathed so deeply by anyone at all. It isn't love, but I don't need love. 

Maybe this is why I didn't move when I realized he was next to me. Because I craved to fall victim to the indignation that constantly radiates between us. He just hates me so good.

I wrap my hand around his wrist, tears starting to form in my eyes as I do my best to hold his gaze. I won't bend to him-- that would be too easy. Nothing about this is easy, and it shouldn't be. He and I both know it.

"You don't want to fuck me," he says condescendingly, raspy voice full of veiled fascination. He hides most of it with his anger, but I know he enjoys the way I react. It's painfully obvious. "You couldn't handle me."

I snort as best as I can with my airways blocked off, a little smile pulling at my lips. Is he really trying to scare me? He should know by now that trying to freak me out only makes me want to show him how wrong he is. "Wanna bet?" I challenge with a scratchy, barely audible voice.

His eyes glance over my face, soaking up the position he has me in appreciatively. "I'll rip you apart," he warns, pretty gaze snapping up to meet mine again.

"Wasn't that always the plan?"

Sal takes a slow, deep breath before cocking his head to the side in an admonishing way. Then he drops his hand and a rush of air abuses my lungs. I choke on the oxygen invading my body and scoot away from him as quickly as possible. He looks away from me, peeking over the top of the box. "If it wasn't the plan before, then it is now. Someone needs to set you straight." 

Oh, that's nice. So when are we fucking? "I don't want to be set straight," I scoff, taking the opportunity to glance around the side of the box too. Larry's been pulled aside by the photographers. And holy fuck, it looks like a neon tornado tore up this entire room. We're in so much trouble. "I want to be reminded of why I want this to begin with."

"No," Sal bites out. "You just need to fucking go to therapy. Bratty bitch-- I'll scare you out of this stupid BDSM fantasy you have."

I turn my head to him, eyes wide. Did he really just blindly read me and guess correctly? "How fucking dare you?" I seethe quietly. "Who are you to tell me I need to go to therapy? What does that say about you, huh? Hypocritical cunt."

Sal looks down at me in return, gaze as wrathful and irritated as usual when it comes to me. "Only delusional people like you think they want to be tied up and fucked into stupidity. But since you won't stop lying to yourself like a dumbass, I'll just have to be a good Samaritan and show you, I fucking guess." 

"Ah, yea," I hum, feigning disappointment while excitement rushes through me. "Such a shame that you have to go out of your way to fuck me hard enough that I lose the last few braincells I have left." Sal rolls his eyes, letting out an exasperated breath. "You're such a hypocrite. You're judging me for being a freak when you're one too," I continue.

"Because it fits me. I've been a freak from the start, why not make it into something I can actually utilize?" He counters, voice still laced with agitation that only continues to grow.

"So no one else can have the same desires that you do? Are you really gatekeeping your sexuality right now?" I hiss at him, adjusting my stance to face him-- anything to be more intimidating than I already am. He's such an asshole involving absolutely everything. Who does he think he is? The bouncer of BDSM? Be fucking for real.

"Only you would take a warning as gatekeeping." Sal runs his paint-covered hand over his prosthetic, realizing too late that his face is slathered in neon. This only fuels his obvious vexation. He grumbles quietly to himself before saying. "You're such a simpleminded moron. Think with your head instead of your pussy. I mean, really think." 

Rage suffocates me like I'm swimming in a sea of way-too-fluffy bunnies. I might be attracted to him in a way that's so down horrendous it makes me question myself sometimes, but that does absolutely nothing to distract me from how awful his personality actually is. I've never wanted to punch someone the way I want to punch him. Every single second I spend with him-- sucking him off or arguing with him-- fills me with some of the most potent emotions I've ever had the displeasure of experiencing in my entire life.

"Sal," I say calmly, turning away from him to watch as Larry turns around and starts calling out all of us. His gun has been revoked. "I say this honestly, and for your own good," I tell the man beside me. I could pistol-whip his ass right now. I'm so pissed. "I think I'll be the one to rip you apart."

That makes him laugh humorlessly, but I don't dare look down to see it happen. If I see him right now, my boot is going to be somewhere on him and it's going to hurt. "I'd like to see you try," he rasps out.

I scrunch my face up, trying to control the anger that radiates off of me in toxic waves. I'm innocent in all of this. Someone needs to set him straight. Not me.

"Try to wipe my handprint off your neck," Sal mumbles, standing up and walking around the box. "If anyone gets any ideas, I'm blaming you."

Asshole. I sneer at his back as he walks over to Larry. I bend down, swiping at my neck and only being able to smear the paint since it's starting to dry. But whatever-- if someone thinks it's a handprint, I'll just pass it off as my own.

"Yea, man," Larry says as I finally start to make my way over to him and Sal. "They aren't pressing charges because they got good pics out of the whole mess, but they are kicking us out. So..." Larry says in a serious tone, one that I don't hear all too often. He almost seems a little timid. "Ash got to talk with them while they stripped me of my fun stick. Thank God she's the bargainer because I would've landed us in jail." Emo buff daddy snorts, trying to smoosh down a little smirk.

So we're given a good reprimanding. I hate this part of getting into trouble because I always feel bad. Mainly since I'm usually the one who was the bad influence and started everything. Some things just never change and Ash can attest to that. 

So many times in my life, I've done things that have landed me in situations where I definitely could have gotten a juvenile record. I've just been lucky all this time-- I need to stay lucky because I don't qualify for juvie anymore. 

There was one time my band buddies and I had the bright idea to carve out the batter head of a school-owned bass drum and trick this asshole kid into crawling into it. Duck-taped him to it in record time and also got caught immediately. We were going to roll him outside of the building. This paint-ball situation reminds me of that time. It's literally almost the same situation-- defacing property, basically. 

I need to stop doing this to myself.

The Faces and I do the walk of shame out of The Venetian, catching a taxi over to Excalibur since they apparently have these giant sword-shaped daiquiris and we all need a drink after what just went down. The one downside is that we're all in tactical gear and covered in neon paint. But, whatever. It's Vegas.

We all stand in line at the daiquiri stand, waiting for our turn to order. It's pretty cool in here, set up like a castle with life size chess pieces lining the front walkway. Not to mention, male strippers are taking pictures with old ladies beside us and, holy hell, no matter the time or day that is just a glorious sight to behold.

Ash and I stand beside each other, giggling over the horny old ladies beside us when a group of people walk around the corner. They're all dressed in old, medieval clothing. All men. Kings, in fact. I think back to what Ash told me earlier about there being jousting tournaments in this casino. I didn't think they dressed up though-- they all look so cool. 

But then there's a straggler-- a man dressed as some kind of dark, medieval knight. His hair is long and curly and he has face make-up on. Black around his eyes. He's hot as fuck and Ash and I both quiet down while he walks by, strutting like he owns the place. He's tall as hell too. Larry's height.

The group of actors crawl into line behind us. I lick my lips, trying to get a glimpse of the dark knight, but Sal's stupid head is in my way.

Ash leans over, whispering not-so-quietly to me. "Did you see that hunk of walking fucking sex? Damn," she says, voice starstruck and eyes filled with hearts. "Men don't affect me all that often but imagine if I could sneak him into bed."

I suck in a breath, standing on my tiptoes to look between Todd and Sal's heads. All I can see is the right side of the knight's face, but that alone is satisfying to me. "I'd sleep on the couch so long as at least one of us got to get with that. He's beautiful," I admit, sending Ash a sideways glance. She giggles, nodding her head in agreement.

"Who's got you two twitterpated?" Larry asks, winking at me when I look over. Good use of new vocabulary, Lar.

I nod to the men behind Larry. "If you look behind us, there's an actor dressed as an emo knight, so to speak. He's pretty hot," I tell him.

I could slap men. They live off of one singular, shared braincell. I'll even include Todd in this statement because all three guys turn so hard that anyone else would think they'd all snapped their necks. Keep in mind, all of these actors are just a couple feet behind us so the staring is painfully obvious. 

Ash and I fold in on ourselves, turning to face the daiquiri stand and grumbling to each other about how stupid they all are. Oh, this is terrible. So bad, in fact, that I'm blushing profusely. Yuck.

Sal's the first to speak, shamelessly saying, "Fuck. He's hot as shit."

"I'm not into guys," Larry says, "But he is pretty."

Todd hums in agreement, deciding to stay quiet since he has a boyfriend, of course.

"Just pretty?" Sal hisses, clearly offended by Larry's response to the knight. "Ash is right. That's walking sex." 

Apparently I have to compete with men now too for a fuck. I can't tell if that's a tad disappointing or fascinating.

"Then go get his number or something if you're so shocked by my taste in sex partners," Larry hums. "You're the eternal rizz master. You get any woman and man you set your eyes on. Might as well bag the dark knight."

"Stop it with the Batman references, Larry," Todd says, giggling shortly after.

Larry groans. "Come on! Stop hating on the game, Todd. That was a perfect opportunity."

I hope this line moves quicker. The longer they talk right in front of the topic of discussion, the more horrified I feel. Ash isn't any better either. She's chewing on her bottom lip, face red as a beet as she finally gets an opportunity to run up to the counter and order us all a daiquiri.

The five of us start walking past the group of actors with giant daiquiri swords hanging around our necks. It's almost comical having to do the walk of shame again, but I'm more terrified of the fact that this poor man probably knows that we were all fawning over him.

We're almost out of dodge but someone calls out to The Faces. We all simultaneously turn, quaking like leaves on dead tress because that definitely came from the group of actors.

And there's Mr. Emo Knight, walking toward us in all his glory with an excited little grin on his handsome face. 

I'm going to vomit.

He walks up to Sal and Larry and shakes their hands, sharing quick introductions. Then the knight looks past them and at Ash, Todd, and me. My heart skips a beat in childlike elation when his gaze lingers on me.

"Oh, hey," he says in a surprised tone. "VioletViolence! I've seen pictures of you online for the past couple days. You're even prettier in person."

My entire body tenses up with excitement and I struggle to hold back the huge smile that wants to rip my face apart. This is phenomenal. Good job, y/n. I don't know what I did to deserve the compliment, but I'm glad I did it.

"Oh, thanks!" I tell him. In a stroke of confidence, I say, "You're pretty, too." 

I want to rip up the floorboards and make a shrine for this guy when a light blush paints his cheeks. To think that I've done absolutely nothing but stand for a picture and he's already blushing over a compliment from me. That's incredibly encouraging.

"Thank you," he says bashfully, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "Could I get a picture with all of you? If you don't mind, of course."

"We don't mind at all," Sal jumps in to say, already moving closer. "You look cool as hell, man."

I narrow my eyes at Sally Face. How do I read this play? Is he jealous or is he trying to steal this guy from me? I can't tell. 

"Thanks," the knight says, scooting in beside Sal so we can all take a picture with him. One of the other actors does the honors, snapping a few quick photos. 

We separate after a moment and Sal breaks the silence by saying, "We should grab a drink so you can tell me about those tournaments. I was thinking about trying out some new things and maybe horses are the way to go."

It's almost fool proof. So good that I choke on the sip of strawberry daiquiri that's halfway down my throat. Larry wasn't kidding. Obviously I'm unfortunate proof of it, but Sal really can pull anyone he wants.

"Ah, I wish I could," the knight says a bit awkwardly. "We have another tournament coming up in about fifteen minutes though."

Oh, that's a burn. I wince over the rejection simply because it's so obvious that the knight is lying. If they had another tournament, they wouldn't be buying heaps of alcohol. 

I chew on the inside of my cheek as Ash's eyes go wide. Larry turns around to face Ash, Todd and I while trying to hold back a laugh, his face perfectly mimicking the red shade of his daiquiri. Todd wiggles his nose, sniffing quietly. That's funny to see-- he's trying to hold back his reaction too.

Sal's lucky he wears a prosthetic because it can hide anything he's feeling. That is, as long as he's able to keep his emotions out of his eyes.

"Yea, that's no problem!" Sal responds, shaking off the rejection like a pro. "You guys have a good night."

Larry's already snickering as we continue our walk out of Excalibur, and as soon as we cross the threshold of the front door, he and Todd burst into uncontrollable laughter. 

"That was bad, bro," Larry cackles, ruffling Sal's hair. The bluenette shoves his step-brother away from him in response, sending him a pair of aggravated eyes.

"It was worth a try," Sal grumbles. "Hop off my dick. It's not the first time I've been shot down and it won't be the last. No pun intended."

I don't quite understand what the no-pun part is about, but the entire group gasps through giggles that they desperately try to squash down into the depths of their soul. 

"The worst part about him rejecting you was that he would've absolutely gone out with Vi. He was so into her," Todd says after a moment, trying to deflect Sal's most recent comment.

"He only called her pretty. Doesn't mean he wants to dick her down or anything," Sal says in response. Poor guy, he's so jealous that I pulled the hot knight.

We're all walking side-by-side along the entrance to Excalibur, making our way down to the strip instead of catching another taxi. It's evening, fun city lights are on as the sky darkens, and we need to pick up dinner. Not to mention, we have loads of alcohol so why not make our trip back to Caesar's palace eventful?

I tip my head forward to get a glimpse of Sal-- more importantly, to meet his gaze so he can see my smug expression. I want nothing more than to bask in his rejection. 

I see the side of his prosthetic instead-- the bottom half of it is lifted slightly as he sips from his transparent pink straw. It's likely stained from the strawberry daiquiri he has in his hands. His pale, scarred jaw and chin are visible to me, but dark from the shadow of night and his prosthetic. No matter how little I see, I still feel a fluttering in my chest because this is the most I've ever seen of his face. It gives me some kind of theoretical rush-- sets me into a daydream.

His lips are probably tinted red from his drink. His tongue must taste like an inebriating mix of vodka and artificial strawberries. And the shape of his lips, if his teeth are straight or crooked, what kind of nose he has, the curve of his eyebrows. What it would be like to taste him, to feel him in ways that I haven't yet. I could go on forever.

But I shouldn't go on because wanting more from a man who's only willing to give me the bare minimum is setting me up for disaster. He told me himself that I shouldn't expect anything from him. One thing he's failed to do is lie to me, so I'll take his word for it and consider Sal-centered expectations to be detrimental. 

This entire time, I haven't wondered about what he looks like beneath his prosthetic-- not even once. It's like a delayed reaction; now I'm overcome with this horrifying yearning to rip the hunk of plaster off of his face and get a glimpse of the real thing. I was fine literally two hours ago, so what's changed? It's not because he's been kind to me because he hasn't shown any emotion that could resemble kindness at all. 

Maybe it's the fact that I'm leaving Las Vegas tomorrow and my brain is just subconsciously reminding me of my dwindling time here. 

"So anyway, since Sal's butt-hurt," Larry says, interrupting the silence that had overtaken the group. And it was never truly quiet, just felt like it. Cars were still zooming beneath the walkways under our feet, people were still bustling about, music still swelled in the air around us-- but we were all caught up in our own heads. "Let's play a game. Vi is the victim since we virtually still know nothing about her."

I swallow, leaning back so that Sal is out of my view before he can turn to look at me with those evil eyes of his. I don't need to be pining after him anyway-- this is just a nice agreement he and I have. That's all this will ever amount to and that's perfectly fine. No strings, no attachments. Just casual sex, hopefully. If we ever fucking get there.

I turn my attention to Larry. "There isn't much to know," I murmur. I have to be worried about this, not Sal. Larry's trying to quiz me because he thinks this is our first time meeting. I have to be careful. "What kind of game do you want to play?"

Larry slurps his daiquiri loudly, gaining the attention of a few people around us. "Got any weird kinks? Guilty pleasures? Fun scars? Creepy interests?"

My eyebrows raise of their own accord. I'm not sure if these questions are an opportunity for him to relate and feel better about his own odd interests, but I'm a little shocked. Where do I start and what do I keep to myself?

"Um, no weird kinks that I know of--" I start to say, but Ash holds a hand up to my face and slaps her palm against my mouth. 

"Liar," she proudly yells. "You are such a degradee."

Heat envelops my entire body. Why did she have to say anything? Keep it in the fucking bag or something-- anything.

"Come on, Ash," Todd huffs. Oh, thank you, sweet angel. If anyone has my back, of course it would be Todd. "We already know Vi's into degradation."

My gaze snaps to Todd and my mouth falls open. So much for trust.

The situation is hilarious, honestly, but also mildly concerning. Am I so submissive that I wordlessly scream it to everyone? Since when have I become this people-pleasing monster? 

I choke on an embarrassed laugh, staring at my feet as we walk. My cheeks are flaming and I really just want Thanos to snap his fucking fingers right now.

"Fuck all of you," I sniffle, eyeing my giggly friends. I can't be mad-- this is all in good fun. Still can't wait to get back to the hotel and disappear until I have to leave tomorrow though... "And Larry, the best I've got for you is that I got my finger stuck in the lock of my classroom door in fifth grade," I proclaim bashfully leaning over and holding up my hand.

Larry's eyes light up, much like a cat's pupils dilate when they're focused. He grabs my hand and exams it. "Which finger?" he asks, all focused and adorable as he takes a quick sip from his daiquiri.

"This one," I chirp, lifting my middle finger with no shame. 

Larry's smile drops immediately. Then his eyes slowly lift to meet mine, absolute numbness in their chocolatey depths. The nonchalance in his pretty gaze makes a little shiver trickle down my spine. It's both scary and entrancing-- he's just... he's hot...

Larry pinches his lips together then yanks me toward him. My eyes mimic saucers when I trip over my own feet before stumbling into the behemoth of a man. My weight slamming into him pushes him into Sal who snaps at both of us, but I couldn't care less about him when I'm trying not to peel cement with my fucking teeth. 

Larry stabilizes us, holding himself up with Sal-- who's still grumbling-- and grabbing onto my waist to keep me upright. 

I take a breath, gripping onto Larry's thick biceps for dear life. And you know what? I hold onto the moment (his biceps) for a good couple seconds and appreciate it because at least I have an excuse to touch the build that this man has going on. 

So after a second of squeezing this poor mans arms and pretending that I'm recovering instead of literally copping a feel, I furrow my brows and look up at emo buff daddy. He's grinning down at me nervously. 

"I swear I just wanted to intimidate you a bit," he snickers, finally releasing me from his hold.

I say a silent, solemn farewell to Larry's arms then huff. "By throwing us into oncoming traffic?" I snort. "That's not intimidation. That's a literal trip to the pearly gates, my brother in Christ."

Larry looks off to the side, upside down smile on his faces as he hides his hands in his pockets. He knows he's guilty.

"But... do you actually have a cool scar then?" Larry asks after a moment, finally falling into step with the rest of us who walk the strip. 

I purse my lips. "Not really. I have scars, just not cool ones," I admit. If I've ever gotten a cut or gash, it's always healed pretty quickly. Most of my childhood scars faded years ago and the ones that stayed have no interesting meaning. "Do you?" I ask, leaning forward to send him a smile. I'm able to see Sal again, but he looks aggravated now. Daiquiri dangling from his fingers as he looks out at the city.

I lick my lips before looking back up at Larry. Ignore the brooding little bitch, y/n.

"Um," Larry trails off, sucking on the straw of his daiquiri in an almost suggestive way. Even Todd looks over to raise an eyebrow. "Me and Sal have matching scars."

My eyebrows raise. That's interesting. "What, was it like a brothers pact?" I giggle. 

Sal looks over now, his eyes meeting mine. He looks angry though, much angrier than he did just seconds ago. Something tells me this is a story that he never wanted out for prying ears. That makes it all the more intriguing. 

"No, it was actually pretty stupid," Larry swipes at his nose and looks off to the side. "Sal hates this story so much because it landed both of us in the hospital."

Hm, hospital tales with The Faces. Sal's reaction was fishy up until Larry mentioned that it was just a stupid little thing in general. I'm a little desperate at this point-- I need to know more. "Tell me about it," I chirp, looking out at the city lights around us. We're walking up to The Venetian now. I have some strange feeling that we're all going to try to sneak past this building pretty quickly after what happened earlier-- especially since we're still in paint-covered tactical gear.

"Hold on," Ash jumps into the conversation, pointing at an Irish Pub a little further down the street. "We're grabbing dinner there. Take out. All the same order. No if's, and's, or but's. I'm ready to get home." She leans over and snatches Todd's wrist. "And fruit roll-up is coming with me."

I watch Larry turn his attention to Ash. "Just as long as you get me some kind of alcohol," he says, grinning all the while. He's going to get so slammed.

Larry is an odd specimen. Of course, we all know that, but he has this kind of aura about him that's so different from the rest of The Faces. He's such a welcoming person-- you look at him and want to trust him with everything. But it's also incredibly obvious that he's devious and chaotic to the core. He'll keep everyone's secrets safe, but he'd probably commit homicide too, I think.

Larry turns to me as Ash rushes ahead of us. There's this gleam in his eyes that screams excitement and focus. 

"So I'm gonna spare you the confusing details because Nockfell is just... in a state of sin constantly. You'd be so lost if I told you why exactly this happened," the man waves me off, smacking his lips and looking off to the side. I look up at him with raised eyebrows, patiently waiting. If I'm being honest though, I want to know the confusing details. What was going on in Nockfell?

"Larry, can you not?" Sal bites out. "You tell this story constantly. Just give it a rest. Not everyone wants to talk about scars."

"Sir," Larry scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest. He looks down at Sal beside him, giving the blue-haired gremlin a 'try-me-bitch' look. "You can go and be insecure somewhere else because I fucking love telling this story. And Vi wants to hear about it, obviously." He turns to me and grins, showing off his sweet, little gap-toothed smile. "Look at that precious face. It's so eager." Larry grips onto my masked cheeks and drags me toward him. 

My heart jumps into my throat when Mr. Metal-Head himself winks at me before dipping his head down to kiss the nose of mask. I can't feel his lips, but just the fact that he's so close to me and showing me this type of care through physical touch makes my cheeks heat up. Makes my fingers go numb. Makes my thoughts race out of my body, skittering along the pavement in excitement-- all with love hearts littered about them. If romantic love were a thing between him and I, things would be much different right now. But this feels more like... I'm a princess and he's my devoted, caring knight. Instead of kissing my hand, he brought his feelings to the very tip of my nose.

This is twitterpated.

Sal and Larry start bickering as soon as the little peck is done and over with. While they do their step-brother thing, I mull over Larry's small token of affection. That kiss meant so much even though our skin never touched. Did Sal feel the same way even though our lips were still separated by his prosthetic? Did he feel like he was cared for, loved? Was he high off the prospect of someone actually wanting to kiss him, innocently or lovingly, just like I am right now? 

I almost feel bad. To have all of that mental opportunity ripped away from him the moment it was revealed that I was VioletViolence. Sal must have felt terrible. Maybe... maybe he's actually justified in hating me.

"So anyway," Larry grips my shoulder, making me flinch in surprise. I turn my gaze up to him, meeting Sal's frustrated, glaring blue eyes for just a moment in the process. I'm going to think about how bad I must have made him feel all the time now. 

"Sal and I were running, right." Larry leans forward, swiping his hand horizontally before us. I follow his pretty hand that's littered with patchwork tattoos. "Midnight, pitch black outside." Larry tilts his head, pinches his lips to exemplify these points. I simply nod. "Nockfell has this giant forest that's super thick, 'kay, thicker than your juicy thighs, in fact." His eyes snap to me and I have to turn away while my mind runs rampant again. I can't stand Larry, but in the best way.

"Before you get to the forest though," he continues. "There's this old fence that's lined with barbed wire. My guess is to protect old farms from predators and whatever. But Sal and I were young and thought we could simultaneously clear this six foot fence like fuckin' track stars." Oh. I kind of get where this is going-- they were idiots, basically. This story also lines up perfectly well with what Sal told me earlier. I'm incredibly relieved to hear that his scar story was true. This also means that I have no unnecessary stress regarding him and his well-being. Not that I should worry about that to begin with.

"So next thing you know, Sal and I are hooked by our calfs and ankles on the top of this fence. Ripped us up. We couldn't get free, so we were just kinda hanging upside down on this fence for like thirty minutes until Henry came to pick us up." Larry breaks off into scattered giggles while trying to finish the story, meanwhile my stomach threatens to leap out of my body. I feel sick.

"Larry, shut up," Sal mumbles again. "You don't have to give so much detail." 

He's so fucking guilty and it shows.

"Come on, bro," Larry chortles, giving Sal a light shove. "It was so stupid, I still laugh about it every time. Look," the man turns back to me and stops walking. He bends down and grabs the edge of his black cargo pants. He yanks them up over his knee and shows off this gnarly, jagged scar on the back of his calf. It's a couple inches long for sure-- must have been deep. "Sal's is on his ankle. We were actually pretty worried he might have sliced his tendon. I remember screaming and yelling at him about how he would never walk again," Larry snickers, pushing his pant leg back down.

I gulp, forcing a smile onto my face. I don't have it in me to laugh at the story. Not when I know that Sal lied to my face about the scars on his thigh earlier. 

I'm battling myself. Sal and I aren't close-- he doesn't have to tell me at all if he wants. His mental health and his scars are his business, not mine. It's my fault for feeling so torn up about it. I feel like it's my job to save everyone, but I forget that not everyone wants saving. That, and I just can't save everyone in general. 

I don't have a God complex, I just have this unbeatable savior complex that I'm still at war with to this day. I need to get over myself-- not everyone is going to trust me with their secrets. Not everyone needs me. Not everyone will like me. Literally, this tracks with Sal and I's timeline. And besides, if he's ever having mental struggles, I'm sure he trusts Larry, Todd, and Ash enough to seek them if he needs help. I don't have to worry.

I catch Ash rushing toward us with her arms full and Todd trailing behind her with a bag full of God knows what.

"That's a silly story," I finally speak up, smiling up at Larry who gives me this devious little grin. I really just need to ignore the conversation I had with Sal earlier. It was never my business in the first place. "I don't have any cool scars, but I did have something similar happen." I shrug, patting the side of my hip. "Got a fish hook stuck in my side. Pulled it out on my own because I was afraid to get in trouble."

I'll actually never forget the day I yoinked my dads fishing pole with the intention of developing my rad fishing skills all to accidentally yoink myself in the end. I'm just lucky the hook was unused prior to getting stabbed into me. The story is mainly to help me forget about Larry's right now though. 

"Perfect timing," Larry whispers excitedly. He crosses over to stand in front of me and my brows furrow in confusion. "I can finally get on my knees for you."

"Nope," I spit out immediately, taking a step away. I'm too insecure and timid for that-- his sweet nose kiss was more than enough. This man needs to have mercy on my hopelessly romantic and decrepit soul.

Larry rolls his eyes. "Fine. But I do want to see. Plus, it's an excuse to finally see your tattoo."

I purse my lips. That's risky. I'll have to lift up the edge of my bra strap for that and I'm a little nervous about being so open.

Ash pops up beside me though. "I just bought, like, thirty jello shots. You fuckers better start throwing some back while I throw this ass back and get laid by a pretty bitch." These words come out in one breath and Ash never breaks her nonchalant facade as she holds a bag out to me.

"Can I be the pretty bitch?" I ask with a smile, sidetracked as I look into the bag to find a plethora of multi-colored plastic containers full of alcoholic jello.

"I thought that was the plan from the start, beautiful," Ash purrs, stealing my attention. I glance up at her, noting the playful little gleam in her bright green eyes and the smirk playing on her full, glossy lips. 

I swallow thickly, frowning at how easily I end up falling into these traps that my friends set out. They're too attractive. 

"Give me one of those," I murmur, fishing out a handful of shots from the bag to distract myself, and hopefully everyone else, from how shy I've suddenly gotten over a little bit of Ash's shameless and effective flirting.

"Yea, share-- but fuck off, Ash," Larry sneers. "Vi's mine. Stay away." He grabs both of my shoulders and walks me a step closer to his chest. I cannot be fucking doing this right now. I feel like I'm snorting coke just from being stuck between two of the hottest people I know-- and I've never even done drugs.

I open the top of an orange flavored jello shot then very quickly down the contents. Sal's hiding behind Larry right now, but I'm still able to see half of him. And he watches me go through all five stages of grief as soon as the flavor settles on my tongue.

I swallow quickly then choke on the leftovers, making the most disgusted face possible. It burns, and it tastes awful. So not worth it. That was a good reminder as to why I shouldn't consume alcohol in the first place. 

"Ash," I splutter, traumatized and betrayed. "These are terrible. I'm sorry but... it's bad. Try one," I say, popping the lid off another and shoving it toward her. This one's green.

Ash doesn't say a word, just wraps her pretty fingers around the container and takes the shot like a pro. She doesn't even flinch. All she does is contemplate it for a moment then shrug at me "Tastes like alcohol." 

I roll my eyes. At least she doesn't care all that much-- the shots won't go to waste. 

I turn to Larry, intent on finally pulling up my shirt for him as we start preparing to walk again. But when he finally enters my field of vision, his arms having left my shoulders a few moments ago, I notice five empty containers stacked in his palm. If pregaming was a person, it would be Larry.

I blink at the man, then look up to see him quite literally tonguing a very clearly empty container. I don't know what more he's looking to get out of it, but at least he has some good work ethic.

Larry catches my eyes and pauses, tongue buried in the plastic like he's looking for water after going days without it. It's pretty comical.

He quickly pulls the plastic away from his face and swipes his hand along his mouth. I press my lips together to hold back giggles.

"Here," I say, lifting the edge of my shirt and bringing it up to right under my armpit before I can think harder about it. The one shot I had isn't even enough to give me a buzz, but assuming it'll have some kind of affect on me later gives me false confidence. I'll walk this fear off like a pro.

I lean over to look at my side, noting the small and uneven crescent shaped scar right under my ribs. Then I grab the very edge of my bra strap and move it, revealing the top half of my tattoo so everyone can get a good look at everything if they so wish.

Larry bends over, hands on his knees as he inspects my bare side. "Nice to know we officially aren't being catfished," he murmurs, eyes glancing over every inch of my skin. He's way too close.

I gape down at him. "Did you really think I was someone else all this time?" I ask, swallowing down that statement when I realize how much of a hypocrite I am. Because I am someone else.

Now that I'm leaving tomorrow, I just suddenly feel so guilty for tricking and deceiving everyone.

I run my tongue along the surface of my teeth, looking at anything but Larry as he lightly rubs his fingertips over the words engraved into my skin. His touch tickles, but I try not to pay any mind to it-- especially when Sal's eyes are glued to my waist from a couple feet away too. He watches me shamelessly, all while I fall apart on the inside. 

"You're bruised here, Vi," Larry murmurs to himself, pressing on another part of my skin that makes me wince. It's sore, for sure. I try to see if Sal has some kind of reaction because we all know it's his fault.

His bright eyes look emotionless from over here. The splashes of neon orange and green on his black tactical gear brings out the cerulean color of his hair and the midnight blue of his irises. He's so pretty in such a unique way. Watching him look at me feels like I'm gazing at something forbidden, like I'm not supposed to catch him with his focus directed at me. It feels secretive.

But all of him feels like this one, giant secret that I'm not supposed to figure out. His prosthetic, his scars, his life story. I don't know any of it and I shouldn't. My brain is hardwired to understand things that confuse me, and Sal really confuses me. He also really pisses me off, but there has to be some kind of reason as to why he's so angry with me to begin with.

I have so much I want to figure out and so little time, so little trust. So little self-confidence. Things are fine right now-- Sally Face is silent, Todd is too. Larry is running his fingers over my skin and Ash is resting her chin on my shoulder, watching Larry. I should be enjoying my time. So why am I regretting my decisions and worrying about someone who couldn't care less about me?

_______

A/N::::::: HIIIIIII sorry it's been so long babies... college :(

i have soooo so much planned for this story right now. i've been writing a lot, i just have to write in short spurts because i also have so much school work to get done. i miss getting to write for hours soooo freaking much!! 

fair warning, next chapter is smutty again >:) i'm excited. I'M ALWAYS EXCITED TO WRITE FOR YOU GUYS AHHHH

anyway, i love and miss everyone so much, so deeply!! have a wonderful morning/afternoon/evening/night <3333

p.s. emo casino knight is actually a real person but we're not gonna talk about that hehe....

[explorya88]

Part 3: All hail Tyrant Darius!

Tyrant Darius and his demons tore through Kozholok's army, their strength and ferocity unmatched. They ripped and tore through the legions of enemy soldiers, rending them limb from limb with their claws and fangs. The demons fought with abandon, their lust for freedom and pleasure driving them forward. They would not rest until every member of Kozholok's army was slain, their path paved with blood and destruction. This was the first step to achieving absolute freedom, and the demons were eager to continue their quest for complete hedonism. Wrath and the Speed Devil army were a force to be reckoned with, their sheer strength and speed unmatched by any of Kozholok's forces. They were swift and brutal, running over their enemies with their motorcrosses and then pummeling them into the ground. They made quick work of the opposition, no one capable of standing up to their ruthless fury. The Speed Devils would not be stopped until they had cut down every last soldier in Kozholok's army, leaving nothing but destruction in their wake. Their rampage will become stuff of legends, and their loyalty to Tyrant Darius will be legendary.

Wrath: Feed upon the flesh of our fallen foes, my Speed Devils. Assimilate their strength into your own and grow ever larger. Consume them in one great feast and let their blood run through your veins. Their strength will become ours and their death a sweet reward for our loyalty and devotion.

The Speed Devils grunted their acknowledgement, ripping apart the bodies of the fallen enemies and feasting upon their flesh. Blood and gore flowed like a river, the demons growing more powerful with each victory. Their hunger was insatiable and their lust for power and pleasure was only fuelled by each kill.

Speed devils: Kill, murder, mayhem!!!

Wrath: We grow stronger, my Speed Devils. We grow hungrier. We must claim every scrap of their flesh, leaving nothing for the vultures. We will absorb their strength and use their remains as nourishment for our lust. Their souls will serve us still, their deaths but a stepping stone for greater power and for the ultimate pleasure of hedonism and freedom. We crave their hearts and their flesh. We will consume them entirely. We will take everything they were, and everything they could have ever been. No soul shall escape our gluttonous wrath!

Onyx: Go forth, my Sandmen. Let not a single foe escape you. Consume them in their dreams and deliver them to me so may i play with their minds and enjoy some of the spoils of our victory. Let their dreams become nightmares and torment them while they sleep, leaving them exhausted and weak. But do not let them awake, for they must suffer the consequences of our victory. With their minds twisted and tormented, they shall never be a threat to our new order. Let them sleep and dream their final dreams, forever trapped in our world of pleasure and of their agony.

Onyx and her mindless sandman slave army put a large portion of Kozholok's army to sleep, ready to torment them in their sleep. Here they were vulnerable, their minds and souls subject to the whims of the Demon Goddess. Onyx wasted no time in manipulating the dreams of her foes, twisting their realities into nightmares and filling them with fear and despair. The sandmen delighted in the torture they inflicted upon their victims, using their powers to twist their minds and torment their souls. The Kozholok army was powerless against this assault, their dreams turned into living nightmares against their will.

Sandman Soldier: We toy with their dreams, making their realities a living nightmare.

Onyx: Enjoy their suffering, my loyal subjects. Make them tremble in fear and agony, filling their every dream with torment and horror. Let them know the true price of opposition to our rule. Let no Kozholok soldier escape our wrath, even in their dreams.

Sandman Soldier: Yes, my master, your wish is our command. We will turn their dreams into nightmares and torment their souls. We will show them no mercy, even in the sanctuary of their minds.

The Kozholok army were tormented by a wide range of nightmares, visions and horrors beyond their worst nightmares. They dreamed of being ravaged by a virus that consumed their flesh, devoured by sharks, electrocuted by eels and a host of other horrors. The sandmen delighted in their victims' torment, twisting their realities and plunging them into living nightmares. The Kozholok army were powerless against their foes, forced to endure the pain and suffering inflicted upon them while they slept. The torture would continue until they succumbed to Onyx' will and obeyed her without question. Onyx noticed a woman with the power to see other people's dreams and she decided to focus on her. She ensnared the woman with thorn vines, trapping and constraining her with her demonic powers. Onyx approached the woman with a sly smile, her eyes filled with malice and cruelty.

Onyx: I noticed you have a fascinating capability. You can see the dreams of others, giving you a unique insight into the inner workings of their mind. Would you care to share what you see with me?

She said, her voice dripping with insincerity.

Woman: Never, i'm loyal to my master Kozholok.

Onyx: I didn't ask your permision. Strong manners and lot of sex is it, my sandmen will have their first sex slave.

Woman: W-Whaaa....

Onyx: You are mine to do with as I wish and if that means giving your body to my Sandmen, so be it.

The woman cried out in horror as a giant flower swallowed her head, forcing her to breathe in its pollen. She struggled to escape, but Onyx's thorns held her tight.

Woman: Whhhhbllleeerjkj...

Onyx: Enjoy your time with my loyal soldiers, i will take pleasure in your suffering.

She laughed, relishing in the woman's despair. The woman felt her mind slipping away, her capacity for intelligent thought reduced to a simple-minded bimbo by the pollen. She giggled idly as a result, her senses dulled and her mind numbed by the flower's pollen. Her body, meanwhile, was being taken advantage of and used for the enjoyment of the sandmen, her body the subject of their lustful desires. Onyx's laughter was cold and cruel as she enjoyed the woman's torment and suffering. The sandmen cheered in excitement at having a new plaything to use for their pleasure and entertainment. They immediately started to abuse and break the woman, enjoying their time with her and making her experience the full extent of their lust and hunger for power. They licked her like a lollipop and tasted her like a fruit, their eyes filled with desire as they eagerly awaited their turn to fulfill their deepest desires. The sandmen took pleasure in the woman's humiliation and pain, their enjoyment and delight in tormenting her increasing with each moment.

Onyx: I believe they are having a good time with my gift to them. I will leave her to their devices for now.

Sandman 1: She's asking to be punished like the silly bimbo she is.

Sandman 2: I'll do the honors. Let's teach her a lesson.

Sandman 1: Remember, the harder you hit her, the more she likes it. Let's hear that silly giggle of hers. Go for it.

Sandman 2: That's what I like to hear. Don't worry baby, the harder you get hit, the more you'll love it.

He hits the woman with all his strength, her body jolted by the powerful slap, as they play with their sextoy, Onyx cheerfully say to the Kozholok army to obey her or be trapped in nightmareland forever!

Onyx: My dear Kozholok army, my words to you today are simples, yet importants. Obey, or be forever trapped in nightmareland. Do not think that our previous victory over your forces gives you any leeway or clemency. Your submission is the only course of action that will spare you from endless torment and suffering. It is your choice, Kozholok army. Will you obey? Or will you choose endless torment? Your choice is crucial, and there will be consequences either way.

She paused to let her words sink in, her eyes glinting with a cruel edge. Many of the Kozholok army refused to submit to Onyx's authority and they soon found themselves in a living nightmare. Onyx conjured an unending nightmare in which the soldiers exploded endlessly in painful ways, their screaming and crying of agony filling their minds as they experienced countless horrors. They desperately struggled and struggled, hoping to escape the torment of their new reality, but their efforts were futile. The nightmare continued indefinitely, the soldiers helpless to escape their torment. Wrath' enter in Onyx mind and see through her eyes, glimmered with wicked delight, her mind filled with admiration for her wife's sadism.

Wrath: Onyx, my love, i sensed you at work and your creativity and cruelty are truly inspiring. The way you have turned the Kozholok army's defiance into a living hell for them is nothing short of magnificent. It warms my heart to see them suffer so, and I look forward to tormenting them alongside you and i am glad to have you by my side, my dear.

She chuckled and ran a finger along Onyx's cheek, her expression filled with pride and admiration.

Onyx: Indeed, but now let's go, my love. We've had our fun messing with the Kozholok army's minds, but now we must focus on the battle at hand. We have a war to fight and a world to conquer. There is no time for foolishness or distractions, as amusing as it might be to torment our enemies in their dreams. The real fun begins when we unleash our forces upon them, and we must ensure that we are ready for the task at hand. We must win, for the glory of our Tyrant Darius, the pleasure of our souls and the power we deserve!

The Speed Devils surround a man loyal to Kozholok, their eyes filled with desire and their bodies pulsating with lust. They waste no time, quickly overpowering him and binding him tightly to the light pole. With a hunger in their eyes, they seize his cock, treating it like their own personal sextoy. They stroke it with a mixture of force and passion, their hands moving in sync, driving him to the edge of pleasure and pain. The man moans and writhes, unable to resist the overwhelming sensations coursing through his body. The Speed Devils continue their relentless assault, using his cock for their own pleasure, pushing him to the brink of ecstasy. The air is filled with the sounds of their moans, the slapping of skin against skin, and the intoxicating scent of arousal. They take turns, each member of the group indulging in the forbidden pleasure of his flesh, leaving him utterly helpless in their hands.

Man: Oooooh! Aaaaaah!

Speed devils: Guess we got our own sextoy, let's keep him!

Wrath: As long you don't forget your duty, do as you all wish.

Lazareth, Malakai, Delilah and their army of demons, are rampaging across the Las Vegas Strip, destroying, ravaging, and demolishing everything in their path. Nothing is spared their wrath, not even the members of the Kozholok army. The city trembles under the footfalls of their march, their destruction leaving misery and ruin in their wake. The hordes of demons unleash a flurry of fire and hellfire, leaving everything in ashes and ruins. The city is left in chaos and panic, as they continue their merciless and relentless march towards freedom and hedonism. Lazareth's roar is a call to action, and his army of demon soldiers were not known to show mercy or compassion to their enemies. His words rang out across the battlefield, his voice echoing with fierce strength and determination. It was time to destroy Kozholok's army, and they would leave no survivors.

Lazareth: Kill them all, show no mercy!

With this cry, the destruction and mayhem continue in earnest, Malakai's voice was filled with a manic ferocity as he marched at the head of his army, his eyes glittering with a lust for violence. As they encountered their foes, he exulted in the sounds of their screams of anguish.

Malakai: I love the sound of my enemies screams, followed by the silence of victory.

He roared, the words were a rallying cry for his demons, who were not known for showing mercy or compassion. The screams and shouts of their enemies filled the air, as they tore through the ranks of the Kozholok soldiers and inflicted unspeakable horrors upon them, Malakai's stomach growled, the hunger in his eyes making him even more dangerous. He spotted a demon who was stupid enough to attempt an ambush and he pounced into action, his mouth agape and his stomach rumbling. In one swift move, Malakai swallowed the demon whole, his powerful jaws closing around the hapless demon with an unmistakable crunch. The demon struggled and squirmed, but his attempts to escape Malakai's digestive tract were futile. Malakai's eyes twinkled with delight as he chewed and digested the hapless demon, feeling the warmth and power of his meal flowing through his veins. Delilah and her army were busy collecting the bones of their fallen enemies, gathering them for a special purpose. At the end of the day, they placed the bones together in a macabre display, forming them into a unique and bizarre object. The bone structure was a rough approximation of a bed, the various bones of the fallen arranged in an unusual formation. Delilah was proud of her creation, feeling that it would be an appropriate gift for her army to enjoy the fruits of their victory. She kept one for herself, the other beds serving as a reward for the soldiers who had been faithful in her service. Delilah's lips curved into a satisfied smirk as she ran a finger along the bed of bones, feeling the texture and contours of the macabre bed.

Delilah: Ah, this bed of bones will serve us well, i can't wait to test it with my husbands, Malakai and Lazareth. It will be a most enjoyable and unique experience for all of us. Ah, the things we can do together, the pleasure we shall know and discover together.

She purred to herself as she felt the excitement growing in her chest, the pleasure of the moment heightening with every breath. The Chimera demons surround the group of beautiful women and handsome men, their dark and twisted desires fueling their actions. The pleas for mercy fall on deaf ears as the demons, with a sinister grin, snap their fingers. In an instant, the bodies of the helpless individuals undergo a macabre transformation, their once vibrant and living forms now turned into lifeless sex dolls. The Chimera demons revel in their power, their insatiable lust driving them to take advantage of their newfound playthings. With raw force and unbridled desire, they engage in acts of carnal pleasure, exploring every inch of the dolls' bodies and indulging in their own twisted fantasies. The roads fills with moans, screams and the scent of sweat mixed with the metallic tang of arousal. The Chimera demons revel in their dominance, using the sex dolls to satisfy their darkest desires, their actions unrestrained and without remorse.

Chimera demons: Once we win this war we will enjoy this sex dolls.

Malakai, Lazareth, Delilah: Let's maul our way to glory and freedom!

Chimera demons: Rrroooaaaarrr!!!!

Cal and his army were efficient and ruthless in battle, using their war weapons like gatlings, energy cannons, and psyguns to dispatch their enemies as quickly and efficiently as possible. They had no patience for long-drawn-out conflicts, their laziness inducing them to quickly defeat their opponents so they can return to their businesses and their comfortable lives of leisure. They didn't waste any time or effort in the pursuit of victory and were quick to dispose of their enemies. Their ruthless efficiency made them a formidable force in battle, their enemies no match for their speed and effectiveness. Cal's shout rang out over the battlefield, his eyes filled with disdain and disgust.

Cal: Die! Just die! I want to return to play with my Wishswitch 2 and make love with my wife Jezebel.

He snarled, it was clear that the battle was nothing but an inconvenience for Cal, just a waste of time and effort that prevented him from indulging in the things he truly desired. The battle was nothing more than an insignificant obstacle in the way of his pleasures and he was eager to see his enemies defeated so that he could return to his comfortable life. Jezebel and her army of succubi demons approached their enemies with a sadistic glint in their eyes. They were eager to feast on their souls, enjoying the screams of pain and agony as they devoured their victims' souls and converted their soulless bodies into mindless meat shields. Their cruel tactics sowed chaos and despair among their enemies, forcing them to fight against their own former comrades and friends. Jezebel relished in the torment she was inflicting, her pleasure only escalating with each soul she devoured and each helpless meatsuit she possessed. She was a force to be reckoned with, her sadistic cruelty unmatched. Jezebel's eyes glimmered with delight as she watched her meat shields doing her dirty work for her, her army of succubi demons cheering them on.

Jezebel: Why fight and tire ourselves, when you can make our enemies do the dirty work?

Jezebel teased. The succubi demons laughed and nodded in agreement, their hunger for souls growing with every dead body that they possessed. As her army's thirst for souls grew, Jezebel's excitement and delight also increased, her excitement and lust for power and hedonism only fueling her efforts at victory and destruction, when they defeat their enemies the succubi demons decide to test the surviving meat shields to see if they can be also used as sextoy, so with a snap of their fingers, reanimate several fallen male demons. They use their supernatural powers to make their cock fully erect, throbbing with desire. One of the succubi climbs atop one of revived body, straddling him in a reverse cowgirl position. She lowers herself onto his pulsating member, engulfing it deep within her tight, wet pussy. The succubus grinds her hips, riding him with a wild abandon, eliciting moans of pleasure from both of them, the succubi demons, thrilled by their success, continue to reanimate more demons. They revel in their power as they take turns pleasuring themselves with the demons throbbing cocks. Each succubus chooses a different position, eager to experience a variety of sensations. Some ride the soldiers vigorously, their tight, wet pussies clenching around the hard shafts, while others indulge in deep, passionate thrusts, their moans filling the air. The succubi skillfully milk the soldiers, drawing out every drop of pleasure until they are thoroughly drained and satisfied. The succubi demons, their eyes gleaming with wicked delight, gather together, their bodies glistening with sweat from their intense activities. They let out a chorus of sultry howls, their voices echoing through the dark, seductive chamber.

Succubus demon 1: Ahh, our experiment has been a resounding success! Look at these strong, virile demons at our disposal.

Succubus demon 2: Indeed! Their firm cocks pulsating with desire, ready to be taken by our insatiable lust.

Succubus demon 3: And the pleasure we've unleashed upon them... it's intoxicating! Their moans of ecstasy fuel our own wicked desires.

Succubus demon 4: We are the masters of pleasure, the seductresses of their darkest fantasies.

Succubus demon 5: Let us revel in this triumph, sisters and continue to indulge in the pleasures these meat shields provide.

Their voices intertwine in a symphony of sinful joy as they revel in their successful experiment, their hunger for pleasure insatiable and their wicked desires unyielding. Cal's expression was one of determination and focus, his mind set on victory and the pleasures that came with it.

Cal: Quit fooling around, the fastest we win this war, the faster we can do whatever we wish.

Jezebel's eyes were filled with a similar resolve, and she nodded her head in agreement.

Jezebel: You're right, my love, let's win this war quickly.

Succubi demons: OOOOOKKKKAAYYYYY!!!

The succubi demons let out a collective shout of agreement, their enthusiasm and excitement growing in tandem with Jezebel's as they focused on the coming victory.

Nahara: Submite to your destiny and join my army as my demon slaves or become sextoy to be used and abused by Tyrant Darius army.

Kozholok army: We refuse to submit to your demands, Nahara. We will not give in to you or Tyrant Darius, and we shall not become your slaves or sex toys. You can threaten us all you want, but victory is on our side, and we won't let you stop us from conquering this world!

Nahara is taken aback by their defiance, her pride and arrogance making it impossible for her to believe that they would refuse her demands, she snarls in anger, her expression darkening with rage.

Nahara: Destiny will not be denied.

With a wave of her hand and the utterance of dark and eldritch magic, Nahara transformed the stubborn Kozholok soldiers into demon plants and demon flowers, their forms and wills slowly warping into something alien and grotesque. They screamed and protested as they were transformed, their agony and despair increasing with each passing moment. Nahara watched their suffering with a cruel smile, relishing in their transformation into her mindless slaves. She chuckled to herself, her satisfaction in her cruel spell and new playthings growing with each moment, Nahara's eyes sparkled with wicked mischief as she turned to Quillain and asked.

Nahara: May I borrow your slaves to test my new slaves? I wish to see if they can be useful as sextoys for my army.

Quillain nodded and smiled coldly.

Quillain: Do as you wish.

With a cruel smile, Nahara turned back to her slaves, excited to see how they would perform as her new sextoy soldiers.

Nahara: What are you waiting for? Service your sextoys or you want to return to being trapped in nightmares?

She asked, her tone sharp and commanding. The slaves had little choice but to comply, their desperation for respite from the endless nightmares driving them to obey Nahara's commands. They knew too well the consequences of disobeying her, and they had no desire to return to Quillain's shadow, the slaves obeyed Nahara's command and their obedient bodies quickly descended into a fiery inferno of carnal lust and pleasure. The orgy began in a flurry of passion and desire, the slaves eagerly submitting to the carnal whims of their demonic masters ad they lost themselves into debaucherous and hedonistic acts, their passion and lust reaching a fever pitch. They reveled in their carnal pleasures, their voices filled with sounds of delight and pleasure as they found release from their endless nightmares. It was an orgy of utter and uncontrollable pleasure, their bodies and souls lost to the depths of lust and desire. Quillain watched as the Kozholok army struggled and suffered in vain as they sunk into his realm of nightmares, his face twisting with cruel delight. The scene played out in his mind's eye, each helpless victim succumbing to his power and terror. He had lured them with the false promise of success and victory, only to drag them down to an endless pit of despair and torment. Quillain loved seeing them struggle in vain, their pain and anguish feeding him and giving him pleasure. He was the master of nightmares, and he knew how to bring his prey to their knees.

Quillain: Give up hope and embrace despair as your eternal lover, only like this will you be in peace.

Quillain said coldly, the demons voices trembled as they considered his words, the very concept of eternal despair and torment a terrifying prospect. But they knew that they could not escape their current situation and that they had no choice but to submit to Quillain and his cruel machinations.

Kozholok's demons: We accept...

They said, their voices full of sadness and defeat, Quillain smiled cruelly, his eyes gleaming with evil delight as he sensed the Kozholok's army's submission.

Quillain: Excellent! Now that we have come to an understanding, I may reward you for your obedience

He said, his voice filled with sadistic satisfaction then he snapped his fingers, and the demons felt the embrace of despair as they sank deeper into his realm of nightmares, their spirits broken and their minds warped in endless torment. It had been Quillain's plan all along and he took pleasure in knowing that he had broken their wills and transformed them into loyal slaves for his amusement. Nahara watched with interest as the demon flowers attacked the enemy army, her cold, ruthless smile growing wider with each death. She couldn't wait for the day that she could fulfill her plans for the world, turning it into a playground for her and her demon army.

Nahara: We are close to annihilating our enemies. Soon, all of the world will be ours to use as playgrounds to satisfy every one of our wishes!

Her demon flowers echoed her sentiment, chanting their war cries as they marched towards the enemy army, at the same time, Quillain's slaves protested, their cries of despair and frustration falling on deaf ears as the dark lord laughed and ignored them.

Quillain's slaves: No wait! You promised us more respite!

They shouted, Quillain's expression was one of complete disregard, his voice rising with annoyance and contempt.

Quillain: My wife promised it, not me, so now return to my shadow where you belong!

He laughed cruelly as he watched the demons struggle in vain, their futile protests only fueling his amusement and delight. The slaves had no choice but to comply with his wishes. Quillain unleashed the nightmare of suffering every single illness in the world to torment his complaining slaves, as punishment for their futile cries for respite. They were tormented by every conceivable sickness and condition, their bodies and minds wracked by pain and suffering. They begged for mercy and release from their torment, but Quillain was cruel and sadistic and he would have no sympathy for their pleas. He delighted in their suffering, watching them squirm and flail in torment and he could not bring himself to end their punishment. He knew that suffering was the only way that they would learn the true meaning of fear and despair.

Quillain: More souls to drown in despair, more souls to torture and break, more souls to save from their pitiful existence.

Quillain said with a cruel grin, the souls that he harvested from his slaves torment fueled him, energizing his wicked mind and fueling his evil schemes. He saw them all as pawns in his game of suffering and torment and he would not hesitate to use them as he saw fit. To Quillain, the souls were nothing more than tools for him to collect and manipulate, a renewable resource that he could harvest at will so he can save more unfortunate and broken people. Dracaena, in her colossal feathered snake form, unleashed her own brand of terror as she consumed the enemies of her father with ruthless efficiency. She swallowed everyone who dared oppose her, the crunching and screaming of her helpless victims falling on deaf ears as she fed on their fear and despair. The victims' attempts to escape her voracious stomach were in vain, their bodies crushed and digested in her deadly jaws. Dracaena reveled in the hunt, her stomach growling with hunger as she worked to satiate her endless appetite. Anyone who dared oppose her, or her father, were nothing more than a snack to her.

Dracaena: I am hungry and you are my meal for today. No one dare oppose me or my father.

She said, her voice a cruel and terrifying hiss as she consumed her victims with abandon, never stopping to spare them a moment of pain, their struggles futile and useless as she swallowed more of them whole. Dracaena's eyes gleamed with cruel and merciless enjoyment as she spotted a large demon that was approaching, its intent to swallow her clear to see. She chuckled darkly as she considered whether or not to digest the demon, enjoying the torment that she caused the enemy in their final moments as she held back her deadly jaws.

Dracaena: I should enjoy this. Swallowing so soon would ruin the fun.

She thought, tasting the fear that the demon felt at the thought of being consumed by her, with a cruel smile, Dracaena decided to delay digestion for later, wanting to enjoy the torment that the demon felt right.

Demon: No, please! I beg you, don't eat me! I'll do anything you want, anything!

Dracaena: Ah, it speaks but your groveling bores me. It is not enough to beg for mercy, you must offer me something in return. What can you possibly offer me that would satisfy my hunger?

She hissed, her eyes glinting with cruel delight, the demon cowered in fear, a look of desperation in their eyes as they quickly thought of a way to escape Dracaena's monstrous jaws, while she thought to herself that she would never let the demon escape, her grip on them too strong to break apart. But she also wanted to make sure that the demon felt hope, their torment and fear all the sweeter as they clung desperately to hope. She wanted to see the demon's hopes and dreams crushed, their despair and anguish when they realized it was all a cruel lie far more satisfying.

Dracaena: Tell me, demon, what will you offer me in order to spare your life? Will you offer me your soul, surrender to me and give into my darkest desires?

Demon: Yes, take it but let me go.

Dracena: I will take it the soul and you!

The demon let out a shrill, desperate scream as they felt Dracaena's body digesting their demonic flesh, her hunger and thirst for souls growing with every bite. Their soul was quickly being devoured, their desperate pleas falling on deaf ears as they felt their body and spirit being torn apart and consumed by Dracaena's monstrous jaws. Dracaena laughed hysterically, her wicked and malicious nature relishing in the demon's suffering as the demon dissolved within her, she could feel their soul being assimilated into her own. Their anguish fueled her own power, their terror and fear only making her hungrier and more brutal. Yvette watched Dracaena with amusement and admiration.

Vinca: I should have corrupt her with seed of Divashma way long ago, she is perfect for us.

Yvette: Indeed just look at Dracaena Vinca! she so sweet yet cruel, honest yet corrupted, pure yet twisted.

Yvette coo as she transform several demons in more gold bars that she warp in her domain, Vinca devoured several demons, absorbing their powers and souls to augment her powers, once she finished the assimilation she ejected their bones, their empty and lifeless husks no longer of value to her. Vinca cackled with cruel amusement, her eyes glittering with ruthless delight as she consumed her enemies and assimilated their powers, to her, they were nothing more than fuel for her own needs and desires, their very existence dependent upon her will and whim.

Vinca: They exist only to serve us, to feed us and fuel our power.

She said to Yvette with a cruel and sadistic smile.

Yvette: We are the superior beings, the true rulers of this world. Others may think themselves our equals, but they are nothing before our might and majesty.

Far away, Fang transformed Lilitu into a massive armored demon warhorse, its body covered in deadly armor and its eyes perpetually rolling back in pleasure as Fang mounted her. The two were linked, Fang's mind and will controlling Lilitu's body. Fang was powerful and ruthless and she took pleasure in using Lilitu's body to wreak havoc and destruction. With her twisted magic, she turned Lilitu into a deadly weapon, her lust for battle and bloodthirst awakened and satisfied through this form, then Fang's hair surrounded the demons, her soft and sensual touch massaging them and feeding from their ecstasy as she sang a soothing and hypnotic lullaby. The demons were drawn in by her voice and touch, her words and song ensnaring their minds and bodies. They were putty in her hands, their thoughts and minds lost in a euphoric haze. She had become their mother, the protector and caregiver that they had never had before. She knew how to manipulate their desires and emotions and she used them to satisfy her own lust and thirst for power. Fang smiled gleefully, her eyes gleaming with lust and excitement at the prospect of creating more offspring. The souls that she harvested from the demons were used to incubate the first generation of Dark Virtues, her powers and abilities growing as the beings grew within her. She couldn't wait for the offspring to hatch, her desire to create a powerful progeny. Lilitu was excited at the prospect, her body and soul consumed by Fang's powerful magic.

Dracaena: You will be my future sibling's sex toy. You will obey they every decree, Lilitu.

Fang's hands caressed her pregnant stomach, the Dark Virtues growing within her like an army in the womb.

Fang: That's a great idea. Once this war is won, Lilitu will be useless.

She let out a sadistic chuckle, the thought of Lilitu's future torment giving her great pleasure as her unborn children grew larger and stronger within her womb, the Dark Virtues growing ever more powerful as they waited to enter the world. Lilitu was excited to be destined to serve the Queen Fang's offsprings, her body and soul craving domination and conquest.

Lilitu: Please my mistress. Birth them now, I need to be dominated and conquered by your offspring!

She begged, her voice trembling with anticipation and desire, she couldn't wait to be dominated and corrupted further by the Queen Fang's offspring, her body yearning for the touch and affection of her Mistress's children. Fang feeling strained by the use of her magic proced to feed herself and her children, she exerted her twisted magic to control her demon slaves, with a flick of her fingers, her long, dark hairs latched onto their throbbing cocks, wrapping around them like tendrils of desire. The sensation of her silky strands caressing their sensitive flesh sent shivers of pleasure through the demons slave's body as Fang's magical hair began to stroke and tease their engorged members, the demon slaves moaned and writhed under her control. Each stroke, each twist of her magical locks, heightened their pleasure, bringing them closer to the edge, with an insatiable hunger for their essence, Fang reveled in the power she held over her demon slaves. She could feel the energy building within them, the pulsating heat of their impending release. It was a heady mixture of power, domination and lust that coursed through her veins, as their climax approached, the demon slaves bodies tensed, their muscles coiling with anticipation. Fang's hair tightened its grip, increasing the intensity of their pleasure, driving them to the edge of ecstasy and then, with a surge of pleasure, they erupted in a torrent of hot, sticky cum. Fang's twisted magic absorbed their essence, feeding on their release. The taste of their cum filled her senses, a heady concoction that fueled her own dark desires. It was a symbiotic relationship, as Fang's slaves found pleasure in her control and she, in turn, found sustenance in their submission, with a satisfied smile, Fang released her hold on the demons, their spent bodies collapsing in a heap. Fang return Lilitu to her normal form and Lilitu proced to follow her orders tp gather glesh meats for her. Once done she presented the flesh meats to Fang with a smile, her form glistening with sweat and her heart pounding with excitement. She eagerly awaited Fang's approval and praise, her mind and body filled with lust and desire. The flesh meats was delicious and tender, the Dark Virtues within Fang's womb hungering for it. The Queen Fang's stomach gurgled in anticipation, the growing children within her eager to devour the meat and enjoy the feast within their mother's womb. After have finished the feast, Fang's eyes glimmered with dark excitement, her unborn offsprings ready to enter the world. She could feel their presence within her, their hunger and desire for life growing with every passing moment. This was it, the moment she had been waiting for, the beginning of a new chapter in their reign of terror and fear.

Fang: Yes, Lilitu help my children to exit from my body safely

Fang said with a cruel but happy smile and Lilitu nodded eagerly, her body trembling with anticipation and joy as she could feel Fang's body convulse and twist, the children within her body ready to be born into this world. She could practically taste the raw power and energy that was stored within the unborn Queen Fang's offsprings. Her own body and soul craved it, her own lust and hunger growing with each passing moment. There was no time to waste, the children would not wait forever. Lilitu stepped forward, her hands gently massaging and coaxing Fang's body to make the birth quicker and easier. It was time for the Dark Virtues to enter this world. Fang's body convulsed and twisted, each child expelled from her womb with a rush of power and ecstasy. She felt the rush of each birth, her senses filled with pure pleasure and joy. Once she was finished, she collapsed in a faint, her body overwhelmed by the incredible satisfaction and bliss that she had just felt. Lilitu stood by her side, waiting patiently and eagerly for Fang to recover and the Dark virtues had entered this world, each one hungering for life and power like none other. Their time to shine and dominate had just begun.

Dracaena: Mother!

Lilitu: Don't be so noisy, mistress. She is asleep, and I congratulate you on having ten siblings. As she fell asleep, she told me that if she does so, you can name the children. We should probably hurry and give them names now before she wakes up.

Dracaena: I shall name them after the evils contained in Pandora's Box: Madness, Sickness, Vice, Death, Suffering, Craving, Jealousy, Murder, Old Age, and Hopeless. These names shall bear witness to the wickedness and darkness of the world and remind our enemies of their impending fate.

Lilitu: These names are perfect, Mistress. They shall serve well for the Dark Virtues and I am sure your mother will love them.

Fang opened her eyes and saw the ten Dark Virtues eating gluttonously, consuming the meat around them in a frenzy. Lilitu and Dracaena stood to the side, watching her children voraciously consume the meat and the humans surrounding them. Fang smiled affectionately in the direction of her children, wanting them to come to her and show their affection and love.

Fang: My children, why don't you present yourselves and hug me? I am your mother, and I want to feel your love and affection.

The Dark virtues looked at their mother, they all approached her and hugged her as she wished. Fang was delighted, her heart swelling with pride and love for her offspring. They were like a part of her body and soul, she couldn't help but feel a deep and profound connection with them.

Fang: Look at my children, they are all so beautiful and powerful, my precious and beloved children, you are the very essence of my being and I am so proud and thankful for what you are and what you will become, now tell me what are your names?

The ten Dark virtues: We are Madness, Sickness, Vice, Death, Suffering, Craving, Jealousy, Murder, Old~Age and Hopeless.

Fang's eyes glowed with pride and joy, a smile of satisfaction and contentment on her face as her children introduced themselves.

Fang: These are marvelous names, they represent the evil, darkness, cruelty, and ferocity of this world.

The Dark virtues all stood proudly by their mother's side, their power and might evident in their bodies.

Fang: Now finish to eat all the humand here so you can become full adults and play with your gift, this sextoy was waiting for your birth so you play, feed and do whatever you want with her.

The ten Dark virtues: Ok mother.

Lilitu: Finally! After you finished the meal, come to me my masters, come to dominate and conquer me, your sextoy!

The Dark virtues grinned gleefully at the prospect of being able to play with their toy. They eagerly devoured the remaining humans, their minds and bodies filled with the energy and power that their mother, Fang, had given them. They soon grew to full size and approached Lilitu with their eyes glowing with lust and desire.

The ten Dark virtues: Now we are hungry for more, we have eaten the meat of these pathetic humans but we are starving for more.

They circled around Lilitu, their presence and power overwhelming and intimidating, Lilitu let out a squeal of delight, her body trembling with excitement and pleasure as the Dark virtues groped, squeezed, and hugged her tightly. With no skin left untouched, Lilitu was in a state of ecstasy, her joy and happiness overwhelming her. She felt so lucky to have been chosen to serve these powerful beings and her lust and desire for them only grew with each passing moment. She was their sextoy and she would do anything to please them and have her body and soul dominated by their powers. Madness and Sickness approached Lilitu, their eyes glowing with a cruel and lustful desire. Madness leaned forward, his tongue licking and nibbling at Lilitu's ear, her breath growing heavy with arousal and desire. Sickness leaned in after him and nibbled at her other ear, her teeth nipping at her sensitive flesh. Vice and Death approached Lilitu from behind, their hands reaching up to grasp at her breasts. Their spankings were harsh and brutal, the force of their blows making Lilitu scream with pleasure and delight, her body trembling with lust and joy. Suffering approached Lilitu with wicked delight, a cruel and lustful grin on his face.

Suffering: Such a whore you are, you deserve a good spanking for your misbehaving.

Suffering's hands reached out, spanking Lilitu's ass so brutally that it left painful red marks on her skin. Despite her pain, Lilitu felt her breath catch in her throat with delight, her lust and desire growing with each successive blow.

Lilitu: More! More! More! More! More! More!

She screamed, her body trembling in ecstasy.

Craving: Sis, we can have her forever? She is a perfect sextoy.

The Dark virtues all smiled at the thought of keeping Lilitu forever, their eyes glinting with an insatiable lust.

Dracaena: Yes, try not to break her, it's difficult to create the perfect sextoy like her.

Dracaena said with a cruel smile, Craving giggled with fiendish delight, her teeth biting down on Lilitu's neck. Her mouth filled with the taste of her blood and her heart thumped wildly with excitement and pleasure.

Craving: Aaaahhhhh, your blood tastes like heaven and hell.

She said, her eyes glowing with lustful desire.

Lilitu: Aaaaaaaahhhhh!!!

Lilitu breathed, her voice thick with desire and lust as her body trembled with arousal. She felt the Dark virtues surrounding her, their hands and bodies exploring and touching every part of her, their attention and passion focused solely on her. She felt their hands grasp her and hold her forcefully, their touch like fire against her skin. Her breath came in short gasps, her heart beating rapidly in her chest.

Lilitu: Please, more...more...

She whispered, her voice dripping with crave and hunger. Jealousy approached Lilitu with a cruel and lustful grin, his eyes glowing with a hunger and desire.

Jealousy: Ok bimbo. Let's see you enjoy this.

Murder stepped forward next to her, her eyes locked onto Lilitu's body. The two of them stared at her with a lustful gaze, their attention focused solely on her. Murder and Jealousy grabbed Lilitu's breasts, their teeth sinking into her nipples and drinking eagerly from her milk. Lilitu cried out in pleasure and delight, her body trembling with anticipation and hunger. Old~Age forcefully grabs Lilitu's thigh and penetrates her cunt with his massive cock, mercilessly thrusting in and out, creating a raw and intense sensation. The powerful piston-like motion fills Lilitu with a mixture of pleasure and pain as every forceful thrust sends waves of ecstasy coursing through her body as Old~Age, fueled by a dominant desire, asserts his control over Lilitu.

Old~Age: You'll be mine and my sibilings breeding bitch, you'll sire many offsprings Lilitu!

The words ignite a primal excitement within both of them as Lilutu looked up at him with a mix of fear and lust, her body trembling with excitement and pleasure, Old~Age's tail forcefully enters Lilitu's tight butthole, causing her to gasp in a mixture of pleasure and surprise. The tail's maw opens and with a powerful surge, it unloads its eggs deep into her womb. Lilitu's body trembles with a combination of sensations, overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment, her eyes roll back in ecstasy as her womb is filled with fertilized eggs. The overwhelming pleasure courses through her body, leaving her in a state of blissful surrender. The knowledge that she is now carrying one of her master offsprings intensifies her sensations, creating a profound sense of fulfillment.

Hopeless: You're quite a neat sextoy so i want to improve you, what do you think Lilitu?

Lilitu looked up at Hopeless with a mix of admiration and desire.

Lilitu: I am yours and your siblings property. I will serve you and do anything you require of me, my mind and body entirely devoted to your pleasure and domination. It would be an honor to be improved by you and serve as your sextoy.

She said with a cruel and hungry smile, her body dripping with sweat and arousal. Her eyes were filled with lustful desire and worship, her lips trembling with pleasure and need, Lilitu let out a squeal of surprise and pleasure as Hopeless pinched her ears and gave them cat-like forms. She felt her ears become pointed and feline.

Lilitu: Oh yes, i love my new ears.

She said with an impish grin, the cat ears making her feel even more playful and lustful, as she touched them and moved them around playfully, then she cried out in surprise and delight as Hopeless pinched the skin above her bottom and created a dog tail. She felt a tail grow from her backside, and she loved how it moved and waggled. Her ears and tail were making her feel even more playful and naughty and she was eager to continue pleasing her masters.

Madness: You still have the a littlr free will left in you, which is useless for our sextoy lets remove it.

Sickness: Agree so Lilitu say farewell to what little of your old self is left.

Madness and Sickness approached Lilitu with a cruel and wicked grin, their eyes glinting with desire and power. Madness's tongue entered Lilitu's ear and latched onto her brain, meanwhile, Sickness latched onto Lilitu's other ear, her body trembling with excitement and anticipation. They were stealing Lilitu's free will.

Lilitu: Mmmmhhhh..Ooooh.AAAAHHHHAA!!!

As Lilitu's mind slowly fading away, her senses dulling and her will vanishing. She was becoming nothing more than a loyal and brainless toy for the Dark virtues, her own thoughts and desires slowly vanishing from her brain and her body being flooded with primal lust and desire. She squealed with delight, her body shuddering with anticipation and pleasure.

Lilitu: Yes...yes...master...I am your obedient tool...take me...take the rest of my mind and soul.

Vice walked up to Lilitu with a fiendish grin, his hands reaching out to her breasts. He gently and expertly groped her breasts, his hands caressingly kneading them and increasing their size to Z cups. Death walked up to her as well, her face a mask of lust and her eyes filled with cruel desire. She reached out and pinched Lilitu's nipples, which were now triple the size and constantly leaking and drips with milk. Lilitu moaned in pleasure, her body trembling with excitement. Suffering and Craving approached Lilitu with a cruel smirk on their faces, their eyes filled with lust and desire. Suffering reached out, grabbing Lilitu's bottom and increasing its size to Z cups. The increase in size made her bottom soft, supple and squishy, her flesh rippling with pleasure. Craving was next to her and also grabbed Lilitu's bottom and began squeezing it tightly, making it always drip honey. Lilitu felt her body shaking with desire and lust, her eyes filled with hunger and longing. She could feel the honey oozing from her bottoms and she loved the sensation of it flowing over her skin. Jealousy and Murder approached Lilitu with a cruel and lecherous smile, their eyes gleaming with lust and desire. They trapped Lilitu's soul in perpetual lust and her eyes rolled back forever. She never would be satisfied and she was destined to constantly crave and lust over her masters. Dracaena applauded her siblings and praised them for their excellent modifications and improvements on Lilitu as Fang ordered the entire group to have sex with Lilitu so that they could grow and mature properly.

Dracaena: I'm so proud of my siblings, they have truly become dark and powerful beings.

Fang: Yes, I am proud of them too, they have grown and matured so fast and so much. They are ready to help us to take on the world and dominate it with us.

Meanwhile he Dark virtues surround Lilitu, their insatiable desires pulsating through the air. They approach her from all directions, their hands and mouths exploring every inch of her body, as they engage in a wild and uninhibited gangbang, satisfying each other's carnal cravings in every way imaginable. Pleasure fills the room as the Dark virtues relentlessly indulge in their primal desires, leaving Lilitu breathless and overwhelmed by their combined intensity as the five male of them eagerly explore her various holes and breasts, using them for their own pleasure. Lilitu becomes the centerpiece of their debauchery, experiencing a relentless onslaught of pleasure and sensations as each Virtue takes their turn, leaving no part of her untouched. The air is filled with moans and the sound of flesh meeting flesh as Lilitu is consumed by a whirlwind of intense pleasure and desire. Tyrant Darius mentally contacted Fang, and she was ecstatic to hear from him.

Fang: Oh, my beloved husband, we're doing just fine! I have birthed our first generation of Dark virtues, and they are absolutely marvelous. They are cruel, powerful, and lustful, and they will help us in our conquest of this world. It is truly a wonderful day.

Tyrant Darius looked through Fang's eyes and saw the new generation of Dark Virtues, and he was impressed.

Tyrant Darius: They truly are splendid, you have done a wonderful job with them, my love. They will be a powerful and cruel force for us to wield as we take over this world. I am fortunate to have you by my side, you have made me the happiest and proudest father and Tyrant of all the time.

Fang: And i'm happiest mother and Queen of all the time, so go win this war.

Tyrant Darius: Don't worry my beautiful Queen, my Dark goddess, we destroyed almost all his army. Now we have just to destroy his remenants and him and once i assimilate him we will rule this world together, now birth more Dark virtues, our offsprings

Fang smiled and nodded at her husband's wise advice and commanding authority.

Fang: It will be done, i will continue to expand our family and give birth to more Dark virtues who will join our war and help us conquer this world. I shall not disappoint you, my beloved Tyrant Darius, and together we will dominate and rule this world forever. Dracaena can you look after your sibilings? So i can seek more souls to use for create and birth more offsprings and sibilings for you.

Dracaena nodded eagerly, her eyes bright and her mind filled with excitement and anticipation.

Dracaena: Yes, mother! I will look after my siblings and help them grow and learn to use their powers properly. I can't wait to have more siblings, and I will be the best sister they could ask for.

Fang smiled at her daughter's enthusiasm and eagerness, and she ruffled her hair affectionately.

Fang: Go and do your duty as their elder sister, i know you will make me proud.

She said with a warm and loving smile, then she exited the slaughterhouse, her mind racing with thoughts and ideas. Fang was on a mission, a task that had been given to her by her husband and Tyrant. She was on the hunt for worthy souls whom she would assimilate, nurture and mold into new and powerful Dark virtues, whom she would birth and bring into this world.

Meanwhile in Las Vegas Strip...

Kozholok stood before the Tyrant Darius, and he was filled with rage and hatred. He had sworn vengeance against the Tyrant, and he would not lose to his rebellious failed creation.

Kozholok: It's not over yet, i will kill you so i will own your army can conquer the world, not you.

He said with a sinister grin. Tyrant Darius laughed histerically, the sound of his laughter echoing in the air. He recalled how he had easily defeat Kozholok and part of his army when they last fought, and he took pleasure in finish him off.

Aeshdeos: Don't commit the typical villain mistake Tyrant Darius, neutralize him now!!!

Tyrant Darius: You're right. Now that i recall it Kozholok, i'll not fight you since you aren't worthy the time but I have to assimilate you to create our utopia. Then et voilà!

He said with a bored tone as he summon vines to keep him still.

Kozholok: No! He screamed, struggling against the vines that were holding him still. He thrashed and cried out in anger and desperation as Tyrant Darius held him in place.

Demon 1: Geez, what a pathetic scene you're doing.

Kozholok: Let me go!

He shouted.

Demon 2: Don't beg it's pathetic.

Kozholok: You can't do this to me!

The vines tightened around him, and he could feel himself being held firm against his will. He was helpless and unable to escape, and he was quickly becoming enraged at the thought of being assimilated by Tyrant Darius.

Aeshdeos: Finally Tyrant Darius, our revenge and victory is close eat him because i know you my friend.

Tyrant Darius: Touché, so i can play with the food and be sure that he can't stop us.

Kozholok: Damn you!

Tyrant Darius: Waste your breath Kozholok. Time to become my dinner and be glad of the honor to help me to create the new world...with your soul!

Kozholok's screams of fear and anger were muffled as Tyrant Darius shrunk him and placed him in his mouth. He was now a tiny, vulnerable figure in the Tyrant's mouth, and he was powerless to resist as the Tyrant began licking and devouring him.

Tyrant Darius: Mmm...yummy...

Tyrant Darius muttered, his mouth filled with Kozholok's delicious flesh. It was like a gourmet meal, and he was devouring it with pleasure and delight. He was in no rush to finish the meal, and he took his time, savoring every bite as he enjoyed Kozholok's sweet taste.

Kozholok: kkkhhaaarghh....gheeeaaarghhhh..

Tyrant Darius: Mmm...this is delicious! Kozholok, you are the tastiest gummy bear I've ever had! I shall savor every bite of your flesh and I will always remember this amazing meal.

Kozholok: No...no! Let me go! I cannot believe this...I'm being eaten alive by this! The pain is unbelievable...my body is being torn apart and reformed as a yummy piece of candy...I beg you, please spare me and let me go!

Tyrant Darius chewed on Kozholok like a piece of gum, delighting in the taste and texture of his flesh. Kozholok was able to feel every sensation as his flesh was chewed and reformed into a bubble. It was a strange and uncomfortable experience, but Tyrant Darius seemed to enjoy it. Kozholok screamed with agony and pain, his body writhing in discomfort as his flesh was used as a toy for Tyrant Darius to play with. The Tyrant chewed and pulled at the bubble, enjoying Kozholok's flesh as if it was the most delicious and luxurious piece of candy. Through Tyrant Darius didn't forgot Nero and pitied him, because he was a victim just like him. He decided to extract Nero's soul from his body and preserving it safely in his heart so that he and his Queen and wife, Fang, could rebirth him as their son and a proud Dark Virtue. He knew that Nero had the potential to be a great and powerful being, and he wanted to help him reach his full potential. He was determined to bring out Nero's best qualities and help him grow to be a great and powerful like him.

Tyrant Darius: No. You have no place in the next world because...in this world that i have won!

Tyrant Darius laughed as he declared that Kozholok had no place in the next world, as the Tyrant had won this one. He swallowed Kozholok, returning him to his normal body but keeping him shrunken. Kozholok tried to make an escape, but his attempts were futile and useless as he punched Tyrant Darius's stomach, only to have his hand burn with acid. Kozholok turned around to see the spirit of his old nemesis and felt a rush of fear as he realized what was happening. Aeshdeos laughed loudly, gloating that he had been responsible for this turn of events.

Aeshdeos: Yes, this is my doing, i've asked Tyrant Darius to have fun with you as he prepares himself to create the new world. I want to see you suffer and to taste your delicious flesh. Enjoy this moment, Kozholok, it's your last...

Aesheos used his gaze to hypnotize Kozholok, and he moved behind him in a mocking imitation of a lover's embrace. He rubbed his hands over Kozholok's chest and stomach, enjoying his torment. Kozholok felt his body shiver with fear and disgust at the archdemon's touch, and he shuddered in the grip of his tormentor's embrace. Aeheseos laughed delightedly and continued to massage and torture Kozholok, his eyes filled with sadistic glee and hunger for Kozholok's flesh as Kozholok growl in anger, but his anger and fear were overshadowed by Aeshdeos's touch as the archdemon fondled and caressed him. With every touch, Kozholok felt his body tremble with pleasure and his mind being filled with lust and desire. Aeshdeos bit into Kozholok's neck, and he let out a moan of pleasure as the feeling of pleasure washed over him. Aeshdeos seemed to be enjoying seeing Kozholok in such a state, his eyes filled with cruel and sadistic pleasure. He continued to fondle and tease Kozholok, his touch causing Kozholok to shiver with desire. Aeshdeos created multiple copies of himself to magnify his pleasure and Kozholok's torture. The copies surrounded Kozholok, and a swarm of hands and fingers began caressing and massaging every part of his body. Kozholok felt overwhelmed by the attention, his body shuddering with pleasure and pain. The archdemons continued to rub and caress his body, squeezing its muscles and flesh and teasing his sensitive parts. The multiple copies of Aeshdeos enjoyed the sensations on their own, their hands touching and teasing Kozholok's body with greedy delight.

Aeshdeos: Oh, Kozholok, my dear little Kozholok, look at you, all mine to play with and tease!

Aeshdeos said, his voice mocking, taunting and with that, Aeshdeos grabbed Kozholok's head and forcefully kissed him, his lips touching Kozholok's with lust and passion. He continued to kiss Kozholok, his grip on his head becoming more intense and forceful as he enjoyed torturing Kozholok. Kozholok tried to pull away from the kiss, but he was unable to break free from Aeshdeos's firm grasp. Meanwhile Tyrant Darius and Lilitu (who was summoned by him, much to his childrens annoyance) and began chanting the spell that would allow him to assimilate the World Egg and recreate the world in his image. He envisioned a world full of hedonism, freedom, and lack of morality, a world where he, his family and his friends could reign without restriction or fear of reprisal. The chanting grew louder and more intense, as Tyrant Darius poured all of his energy and intent into the spell.

Tyrant Darius: Hedonism...freedom...no morality...no restrictions...

He chanted, his voice growing stronger and more powerful as the spell neared completion.

Aeshdeos: Oh, what a wonderful feeling, I can sense the birth of the new world, and soon we shall be able to taste the flesh of a virgin world with no restrictions or morality to hold us back.

Aeshdeos said, licking and teasing Kozholok's flesh with his multiple clones. Kozholok let out a howl of pleasure, his body shaking and trembling with desire. He was being relentlessly teased and licked by Aeshdeos and his clones, and the sensations were too much to bear.

Kozholok: More...more....

Kozholok begged, his eyes filled with lust and hunger for more pleasure. Tyrant Darius kept chanting the spell, sensing Aeshdeo's efforts in breaking Kozholok's will. He watched with glee as Kozholok's resistance failed and he submitted to the torture and lustful pleasures inflicted by Aeshdeos. He could feel Kozholok's soul filling him and his strength being replenished, and this pleased him.

Tyrant Darius: Soon, this world will be ours my friends and family!

He exclaimed, his voice filled with triumph and excitement. He continued to chant the spell, pouring all of his energy into it and focusing on creating the new world in his vision.

Meanwhile inside Tyrant Darius stomach...

Aeshdeos thrusts his massive cock into Kozholok's tight butthole, the forceful entry causing a mix of pleasure and pain. The sensation of Aeshdeos' cock hitting Kozholok's prostate sends waves of intense pleasure through his body, making him see stars. The friction between their bodies intensifies as Aeshdeos continues to thrust, filling Kozholok completely. The sounds of their moans fill the room as they indulge in their passionate encounter, Aeshdeos pistons relentlessly into Kozholok, his desire to completely dominate and mind-break him evident in his actions. With a commanding voice, Aeshdeos orders one of his clones to forcefully penetrate Kozholok's mouth with his own cock, pushing it deep inside. Kozholok is caught between the overwhelming sensations of being filled from both ends, his body trembling with a mixture of pleasure and submission. The room becomes filled with the sounds of their raw and explicit encounter as Aeshdeos continues his pursuit of complete control, Kozholok's rock hard cock is surrounded by several Aeshdeos clones, their tongues and lips teasing and licking his sensitive flesh. They expertly work together, preparing him for a mind-destroying orgasm. Each clone takes turns pleasuring him, their mouths and hands exploring every inch of his throbbing member. The sensation of their moist tongues and warm breath against his skin drives Kozholok to the edge of ecstasy. The intensity builds, as the clones continue their relentless assault, bringing Kozholok closer to the pinnacle of pleasure. Aeshdeos and his clones engage in a cruel gangbang, thrusting into Kozholok's body with unrelenting force. The overwhelming pleasure becomes too much for Kozholok to handle, and his mind succumbs to the intensity of the sensations. As the climax approaches, Kozholok's body convulses uncontrollably, his moans mixing with the sounds of flesh slapping against flesh. Finally, an orgasm of such power washes over him, shattering his mind into fragments, leaving behind only an empty shell, consumed by the overwhelming pleasure and submission. Tyrant Darius, sensing that Aeshdeos has finished his intense encounter with Kozholok, starts to slowly consume Kozholok's soul, assimilating him into his own being. With a sinister aura surrounding him, Tyrant Darius extends his ethereal aura towards Kozholok, enveloping him in a dark and consuming energy. As the process unfolds, Kozholok's essence is gradually absorbed, merging with Tyrant Darius and becoming a part of his monstrous power. The boundaries between them blur, as Kozholok's individuality fades away, leaving only traces of his former self in the wake of the assimilation. Tyrant Darius, his voice dripping with malevolence, gloats over Kozholok, relishing in his victory. With a dark chuckle, he speaks, his words laced with a cruel satisfaction.

Tyrant Darius: Ah, Kozholok, you thought you could resist my power. But now, you are nothing more than a mere vessel for my dominance. I will leave just enough of your essence to witness my reign, but you will be forever powerless, a mere spectator in your own eternal torment.

Kozholok, now trapped and voiceless, can only gaze helplessly at Tyrant Darius, his eyes filled with despair as he realizes the extent of his fate. Once Tyrant Darius completed the spell, the world began to morph and transform.

Freedom, hedonism, and a lack of morality reigned supreme, and the laws of nature and of the universe changed. The plants, animals, and living beings were changed as well, shifting into new and bizarre forms. The world was being transformed into a place of pure chaos and unrestrained, carnal pleasure, where the only laws were the laws of nature and survival of the fittest. The universe was being recreated as a place of limitless desire, where everything was permitted and nothing was outlawed. In this world, there was no order or structure, no law and no justice. Instead, there was only freedom to do whatever one pleased, without any consequence or punishment. There was no morality, no codes of honor or ethics, no rules or restrictions. The universe had been transformed into a utopia of pleasure and decadent carnal delights. The flora of the world was being changed as well, becoming more wild and untamed. The plants and trees were growing in new and unusual shapes and colors, some of them taking on bizarre, almost alien-like forms. The flowers and blooms were brighter and more vibrant, their scents more intense and alluring. Some of the plants had even gained a new, more carnal purpose, with their nectar and petals providing pleasure and lustful delights. In this world, everything was about pursuit of pleasure and carnal satisfaction, and the flora was no exception but be careful, for the flora of this world is as carnal and predatory as its other inhabitants. Unless you wish to be captured and used as a sex slave or prey for their lustful desires, you must be careful. However, the more powerful and skilled can turn the flora to their will and make them submit to their mastery, turning the flora into obedient and loyal servants. The fauna of the world was being changed as well. The animals and creatures of this world became more wild and untamed, their behavior becoming more unpredictable and carnal. Some of the creatures took on new and unusual forms, their shapes and sizes changing to suit the needs of this world. Some animals became more vicious and predatory, their hunger for flesh and blood overwhelming them. Other animals became more playful and seductive, tempting and luring in potential prey with their beauty and charm but still be careful, for the fauna of this world is as carnal and hungry as its other inhabitants. Unless you wish to become their food or their prey, you must be careful and aware of your surroundings. The more powerful and skilled can tame the fauna and make them submit to their mastery, using them as guards and defenders. The living beings of this world, such as humans, werewolves, devils, and angels, are being changed as well. They are becoming more hedonistic, reckless, and mad in their pursuit of pleasure. They have abandoned any pretense of morality or ethics, and have become completely driven by their desires and their carnal lusts. They do not care about consequences or risks, and will chase after any form of pleasure without regard for reason or safety. Everything is about fulfillment and pleasure in this world, without regard for rules or boundaries.

Tyrant Darius: Welcome to the new world, Reader! I've created a world of pure freedom and pleasure, free from any restrictions or boundaries. In this world, there is no morality or ethics, and we shall be able to do whatever we please without fear of reprisal. Everything is allowed and anything can be done. Welcome, and enjoy this glorious and hedonistic world I have created for us all! MUAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA...

[rewordthis]

A Day Like Any Other

Yuuji → Megumi | Sukuna → Megumi

🥛📚

1507 words Itadori Yuuji, Ryomen Sukuna, Fushiguro Megumi SFW

Summary: Until Episode 16

Hello, guys! Missed me? Long time no fic, huh? Well, let me fix this. Although it’s from another fandom yet again, I still hope you’ll like it.😗

Anyways, as the summary says, this doesn’t include manga spoilers, but as I am getting spoiler-ed over on twttr and the net in general, I think I have stepped on some minor(?) things. So, yes, that’s it for foreword. I really hope you’ll N’joy this little something-something.🤗

Three months.

That’s how long it took for Itadori Yuuji’s cosmotheory to turn upside down.

In this short span of time, Yuuji had learnt that monsters are real. They get born from the negative feelings of humanity and hungrily prey and feed off of peoples’ fear, shame, hate, regret…

… blood.

They bring mayhem into the human lives in order to cause enough pain to illicit such emotions, so they can sustain themselves and grow stronger. With each passing day they remain unresolved, they become more dangerous and harder to deal with. Eventually, these voracious spirits — curses as they’re called — will evolve into these walking, talking, intelligent forms of existence that can take more than just the life of a human being.

These curses, savagely devour the very soul of their victim.

But Yuuji has also learnt, that there’s a secret society that has taken upon fighting these nightmarish things. It’s just a handful of humans with abilities that far exceed what once he considered common sense; the jujutsu sorcerers.

These people are just like any other. They laugh, they cry, they resent.

They however, put their lives on the line with every battle they fight, so that the rest of the world will be safe. 

They all do it without expecting anything in return or knowing whether they will be able to get back alive and are forced to silently suffer the losses of their friends in this ever waging war.

Yuuji, admires that kind of resolve.

But as long as it goes through his hand, he will never allow a curse to take anyone from him.

That said, in that same time, he’s gotten painfully aware of some things about himself he’d never admit would rather not have known…

For one, he’s still terribly weak. He’s nowhere near as strong as he considered himself to be when facing these abominations.

Then, comes the fact that he’s actually sane enough to be scared of dying, something he hadn’t been expecting to be of much effect on him since he had made his mind about taking responsibility for helping with Sukuna’s containment. 

And finally, there’s his shame over being unable to flatly adhere by his ideals, after having already been forced to cross red lines he’d promised himself would never cross.

And that all, circles back to his weakness.

In the end, he’s helplessly mortal…

Only human.

Yuuji has made these mental workouts several times throughout the past two months, and he’s always left feeling unsatisfied with his progress after reflecting on each breakthrough coupled with a new throwback.

Yuuji furrows his brows and squeezes his closed eyes until it’s nothing but complete blackness. 

‘It’s irritating.’

When will he finally be able to protect everyone with his own strength?

A second later, deciding that all he can do for now is shoulder these emotions and simply just work his ass off to get even stronger, he releases a long-held sigh and opens his eyes to stare at the wall across him…

Dark, gentle eyes gaze at him—

A calm, steady voice reassures him…

Ah, that’s right. This guy… He thought he already knew how awesome he was, but he can honestly be so damn cool.

All his agony and regrets were soothed by just a few words: “Ultimately, It was for selfish, emotional reasons...”

Because he was there…

“… So, I’ve never once regretted saving you.”

Because he was there—

Yuuji had managed to get a peaceful, albeit early, death.

But now, he is in his dorm room again after the two months he’s been dead. And Fushiguro’s just on the other side…

A grin wide enough to make his cheeks hurt, pulls at his lips. His spirit is lifted once more.

Ah, he really likes this guy!

What Yuuji is yet unaware of, is that someone — or maybe something — other inside him, has developed a fondness for his friend, as well…

_____________________

Sukuna wasn’t going to waste any time or opportunity to take over Yuuji’s body for himself…

That was plain as a blood-painted crime scene.

But the slower he pursued his final goal, the better the chances he would wipe this annoying kid out for good in his first attempt, and he would be stronger yet to marvel when he would take him up for battle. It’s been millennia since he’s last walked and wreaked havoc on this land of weaklings, and he thirsts for a strong opponent.

He was watching him through Yuuji every time he sensed his presence — and even more so from the comfort of his domain — he didn’t need sleep, after all. He’d butt in in their conversations from time to time but otherwise wouldn’t interrupt no matter how much he would like to tease them sometimes, but kept silent because he wanted to measure his progress. Without interferences.

Yet, after the last fight they had with a new special grade, for which he was called upon to vanquish; Yuuji’s injuries were a little on the more serious side leaving him suspended in and out of unconsciousness due to blood-loss, so before they took him to Jujutsu Tech, he jumped the opportunity to take over once more that day and restore him — effectively shutting everyone’s distracting panicking yells up — while chatting off with the delicate boy he’s gotten an interest in.

This one here may have a slender body, but he’s not as fragile as he looks. He’s not exactly on death’s door, even as he’s covered in his own blood with a thigh vertically slashed open all the way down to the knee and his bones struck with aching chills. He’s trembling and that’s probably more due to the exhaustion that threatens to coerce his eyelids shut and send him right into Morpheus’s arms, than any lethality that would see him anywhere near Hades’s kingdom.

‘No. He’s watchful of Sukuna in spite of the sleepiness that claims him. His cursed energy burns tenfold.’ Sukuna notes, sensing him.

But since he’s at it… he may as well.

He doesn’t make a fuss of it when Sukuna places a tentative touch just lower the makeshift tourniquet, over the jacket that haphazardly bandages his thigh. The drenched cloth that still gushes and oozes and drips, with every bump of the road the car speeds by, the very essence of life is hot under his palm. That and the fire in his dark eyes make the corner of Sukuna’s lips tug a little. He loves this kids’ heat… It’s not a fraction of a second later and these watchful eyes slightly convert from pain to surprise to ease in a flash before him.

“Just about time, now…” he says. As he begins to count, “…6, 5—” Sukuna brings up his other hand, two of his fingers ghosting over his jawline. His skin is smooth and clammy and his body temperature a stark contrast to the warmth of the blood that scorched his insides.

“…3— Don’t expect me to thank you—“ he points out around a breathed laugh as long eyelashes flutter closed; his eyes unable to fight back the built up fatigue anymore, and Sukuna now knows he’s barely made it on time. 

‘His cursed energy was so focused… How— could he hold up in this state?’

It’s the fact that he’s shaken about losing him from within his arms that unsettles him the most. Will this boy be my undoing? The thought flies right through his mind. And just a split second before changing back with the little nuisance he’s stuck with in this temple, he says: “Glad I could help~ Even, if I didn’t do it for you. We still have business left unfinish— ed…”

After that, and for a whole week now, he’s made a habit out of swapping with Yuuji after his recent injuries during his down time, in order to indulge himself in his company. Even if for a single minute…

He could not have let himself play out this idiots’ character for anymore than that anyway. It was already hard enough to his humongous ego to continue hiding, but he just felt like spending a bit of actual time with him before the moment to present himself in front of him again would come.

Sukuna was, of course, doing this so he could later play mind tricks on him on that day.

Or… so he seemed to believe this all just was.

He never expected himself — a few days after — to jump into saving a jujutsu sorcerer from another curse, especially when said sorcerer was not being anything but full ready to go down fighting with everything he got.

Thinking back to it, he can just pretend that he did it because Yuuji would be a nuisance if he found out Sukuna could take over his unconscious body by himself even without the contract. And he would still be safe of everyone finding out about his real conditions for swapping with the brat…

But the uncertainty remained in him…

Why the fuck was he bothered into saving him?

—————————— A.N.: Hello l, again, to whoever is reading up ‘till here! I hope you have been doing great! As I also hope you liked what you read! 

Ma~n! This has taken too long to post!! I had it sitting in my notes for more than a month now, and that is only because editing anything on mobile is HELL!😤💢💢 I’m used to having at the very least, 3 different versions of what I’m writing open on my screen at the same time and then another 2-3 app windows when posting, and not having a computer for the past 7 months is simply killing me. I have ordered one 3 times already and when it’s time to go pick it up, I am told that there has not been any reservation in my name. Just who do I need to kill in order to have my gd order properly addressed, huh?????

Also, I won’t be switching from Free! now that it’s over. Nope! No, sir. So, rest assured all fics will continue once I’ll be able to get my docs back… (I wonder when?😫) Ahh~ I really want to get a new pc asap, because I’m losing my mind here!😵‍💫😵‍💫😵‍💫

[dreamscapestars]

The Ultimate Reylo Fanfic List

* = highly recommend (aka if you’re going to read anything off this list read this)

Canonverse AUs

***All Our Days - E - 221k - "I can listen no longer in silence."The hologram projection of his strangely handsome face is cobalt blue, flickering, and full of static. "I must speak to you, Rey. You… you pierce my soul. I am half agony, half hope. Tell me that I am not too late.” He groans, runs his hands through his dark, silver-streaked hair, then refocuses his gaze on the holorecorder. “I offer myself to you again with a heart even more your own than when you almost broke it, eight and a half years ago. Do not say that man forgets sooner than woman, that his love has an earlier death."Here the recording of Ben takes a deep breath, and looks down at something outside the holorecorder’s field of view. Perhaps at his hands, Rey manages to think, through the veil of shock and timid, fluttering hope. She wishes she were there with him, so she could take them in her own, and offer him the confidence to carry on.But this is only a hologram, so she must wait. Eventually, when he looks up again, his features have settled. He looks… Fierce. Determined. Self-assured."I have loved none but you," he says. - canonverse jane austen au 

trillions of molecules - T - 11k - Fake papers forged, contract signed and a navy blue jumpsuit with his name printed on the chest supplied to him, the man who called himself Solo was hired by the Felucian Transit Corporation as shuttle operator number B414. - tros fix it au 

There Shall I Be - N/A - 50k -She remembers the first and only time she saw him smile like this before and how it didn’t touch his eyes at the time and how it broke her heart.Now it fills her heart and gives her life.She shoves him back onto their blanket and climbs on top of him. She pulls off her sweater and takes him inside her again and rides him into the night. - canonverse far from the madding crowd au

*landscape with a blur of conquerors - E - 362k - "While I share your contempt for this situation in which we find ourselves, do not mistake it as apathy," he hissed through gritted teeth, dark eyes burning. "I hardly expect your disposition to sweeten, but I will be damned if I allow my future Empress to behave in a manner that reflects poorly on me and on the First Order!""If you allow?" She wrenched her arm out of his viselike grasp, batting his hand away for good measure. "I don't belong to you. I don't belong to anyone.""That might have been the case back when you were a scavenger on that pitiful scrap heap of a planet, but now?" His sardonic gaze flickered over her silk robes and the jewels woven through her elaborate braids. "Now you are the Chume'da, and the Chume'da belongs to her people. Their fate is entirely in your hands. Should you cross the line, it is they who will suffer for it. Am I making myself clear?""I hate you," she said bitterly. He sneered at her. "See? Already you are acclimatizing so well to married life." - arranged marriage au

Modern AUs

*the man, the stallion, and the wind - E - 17k - Weary and alone, Rey barrels west on the Trans-Canada Hwy in her old pickup truck. Weary and in need of a lift, Ben Solo stands by the side of the road with his thumb out, in the hopes of hitching a ride.One hell of a winter storm’s about to roll in, leaving them stranded. What ever shall they do? - hitchhiker au 

The Mechanic - E - 122k - It's a magical midsummer night, just made for following a persuasive, dangerous-looking lawyer to a hotel across the road from the party. But then reality catches up to Rey. - mafia baby au

*Soul Searching - E - 205k - Sixteen-year-old Rey finds out she’s soulmates with her English teacher -- in front of her entire class. Now the school gossips won’t leave her alone, prying for tidbits that Rey wouldn’t give them even if she had any. And she doesn’t. Because Mr. Solo is too horrified at being soulmates with an underage girl to even talk to her. - soulmate au

Mitan, Midi - E - 83k - After a French notary contacts Rey to inform her she's inherited a house in the Drôme (France), she decides from one day to the next to quit her job and move there. The house is pretty secluded, there's no service, no internet, no way to reach other people aside from the landline in the living-room.Ideal conditions, by her standards, as those theoretically should allow her to be perfectly alone. Theoretically. - french country side au

*A Treehouse Covered in Salt - E - 34k -High school senior Rey Johnson has lived next door to Ben Solo her whole life. The two could not be more different and at school, Rey wouldn't be caught dead in his presence. That doesn't stop her from sneaking out to their treehouse every night. Despite her unwillingness to be friends with Ben in the light of day, he has always been there with her in the darkness. - high school au

Initial - M - 45k - A Soulmate AU in which you are born with the initials of your soulmate marked on the nape of your neck. Easy enough, right? Except for two people who don't use their real names. - soulmate au 

Killing Me Softly - M - 32k - Rey clings to the hope that her husband will regain his memories after he survived a car crash that left him with amnesia. During her monthly visits at a medical facility with Ben, who now calls himself Kylo, she struggles to cope as he tries to make her let go of the past, and in turn, him with it. - amnesia au 

only child of the universe - E - 98k - The first time Rey meets Ben, they're carefree strangers getting high at the fair, alight and in love for a night. The second time is different. The second time is in therapy— where the asshole won't even acknowledge her. - high school au 

a place to go - E - 52k - All Rey Johnson wanted was solitude. A place to go where she could escape from the daily stressors and mayhem of her job. A place where she could enjoy some peace and some quiet. Her mentor Luke Skywalker's small cabin up north seemed like the ideal place to do just that. A week of seclusion was just what she needed.And then Ben Solo arrived. - snowed in au 

into the great laughter of mankind - E - 30k - There is something about watching Rey put her mind to task. Ben can't put a name to this something, exactly— all he knows is that it fascinates him like nothing else has in a long, long time."Dr. Solo?" She glances over at him. "What do you think?"I think I'm doomed, he wants to say but doesn't. I think the curse of the pharaohs has nothing on you. I think you are my Egypt. - archaeologist au

(now it’s) Time to Learn - M - 86k - “You’re a teacher?” Ben doesn’t look like a teacher. At least not like any teacher Rey has ever had. - teacher au

For Now - E - 8k - There are plenty of things he could say, but he doesn’t. Buying you muffins makes me excited to get out of bed in the morning. I wish I could go back in time and be the kind of person you could like. I don’t remember my life before you. ---------- When Kylo finds his soulmate, she doesn’t know, and he doesn’t tell her. - soulmate au 

Cupcake Wars - E - 36k - Entirely by accident, Rey ends up fucking someone who works for Snoke's Cupcakery. She's just blowing off steam. It doesn't mean anything at all. It certainly won't come back to bite her in the ass. - bakery au

The Food of Love - E - 60k - Rey picked up her first violin at eleven, finding a mentor in conductor and former-violinist Luke Skywalker. With the First Chair up for grabs, Rey is thrust into the spotlight as the youngest violinist to take First Chair in the NY Pops. But Kylo Ren - former violinist, former NY Pops cellist, formerly Ben Solo child prodigy - may take issue with Rey Nobody sitting in his grandfather's chair. - orchestra au 

Orion - E - 14k - Rey Niima finds herself in the Saharan desert trying to heal wounds from her life, and Ben Solo is there too, fixing himself along the way. - roadtrip au

Embers - E - 34k - All the myriad things he’d been—someone who made her laugh; the warmth on the other side of the bed; her best friend—those things, Rey had buried. Rey left Ben two years, three months, and sixteen days ago. But who's counting? - getting back together au 

Gilded - M - 11k - Everyone had two marks, one for class and another to identify a soulmate. She only had one: green rings on her finger, proof she was part of the laboring class. It made matters lonely, but never unbearable.Until she met him. He had two sets of marks—had a soulmate—and she did not. - soulmate au

flutz - E - 27k - Rey was determined to have no distractions during her first season in Senior Ladies figure skating.She swore that Olympic medalist and figure skating legend Ben Solo was not going to change that, no matter how intent he seemed on proving her wrong. - ice skater au 

oh autumn, oh teakettle, oh grace - E - 30k - "So let me get this straight," he says. "You're a dryad.""Quite so," she cheerfully replies."Like an actual—" His hand rises to make a feeble gesture at the towering elms that surround them— "tree-dwelling, speaks-with-animals, has-magical-powers, frolics-through-the-woods-in-orgiastic-pagan-frenzy dryad?"She wrinkles her delicately freckled nose. "Well, I don't know about orgiastic frenzy, that's really more of a maenad type of deal."He looks her up and down, taking in her pretty face and her slender figure in the skimpy white dress."Too bad," he mumbles. - dryad roadtrip au

A Proposal by Any Other Name - E - 188k - Rey and Finn have been A Thing for a long time now. Since she was eighteen, to be exact. When Finn leaves on a trip to Europe for six months for work, Rey finally chases after him to Dublin to do what he seems to be putting off: propose.She wants a family, after all.The universe has different ideas. Her flights are delayed, storms hit, she loses her tickets and everything seems to be going horribly. To top it off, she ends up stranded around a rather irritating man by the name of Kylo Ren. It goes about as well as you'd expect. - leap year au

endless summer afternoon - E - 63k - “My son's room is always made up,” Han had said, hitting a light switch as Rey clung to a dirty backpack in the dark hallway, “he never comes home. Warm bed might as well get some use.”Rey spared Han some of the dignity of his own longing assessment of the space that clearly hadn’t been looked at in a long time. An empty room in a quiet house. As gruff as he was, handing it off to some runaway nobody just because she was helping him rebuild a car was one of the kindest gestures she’d ever experienced, and had a hidden weight that she knew needed a respectful amount of privacy. Mysteries were often about unresolved sadness, and were usually only solved by the people who didn’t feel it.Rey is offered a place to stay: a spare bedroom once belonging to the mysterious Ben Solo. What does she do when she wakes up with him wanting his bed back? - roommates au 

Dandelion - E - 45k - Rey's an ex con and orphan, just released from jail after killing Plutt. She follows advice from her former guardian, Maz, and finds a job at Luke's coffee shop. Ben's a lawyer who lost his job and moved back to his hometown. He falls for Rey, unaware of her dark past. - coffee shop au

A Few Small Repairs - E - 69k - Ben Solo is a ruthless property developer, and Rey Johnson is the lone holdout on the block. She does not intend to give up what's hers, not for anything. (Not even for a pair of pretty eyes.) - property developer au

Unbroken - E - 7k - He found her sleeping in the stables, curled up in the stall of his newest, unbroken colt...

Lockjaw - M - 106k - Kylo finds Rey unconscious and near death on the side of a road, surrounded by twitching, wretched things looking to her for their next meal. Ever the altruist, he picks them off and takes her with him, saving her life in the process. It's no wonder that when she wakes she feels she owes him, and agrees to become his travel companion as he crosses the United States in search of safety and a new home. - zombie apoclypse au 

Everything to Prove - M - 13k - “The show,” he says. “It’s probably best if they don’t—if we don’t—”And Rey follows his line of thought at once. For all the program is one that doesn’t seem melodramatic—the height of drama in previous seasons came from someone’s cake falling over and that was about it—she does not doubt that the producers and cameramen would leap at the opportunity to make there be something out of nothing in their relationship—especially if there was something out of something.“Yeah,” she agrees. “Yeah, probably. We can pick baking stations that are…” but she doesn’t want to complete the thought. She likes baking next to Ben.“Or we can just be careful?” he suggests, sounding quite as pained by the prospect as Rey feels.“Yeah, careful. I can do careful,” Rey says at once and her lips are on his again and he’s laughing now, and she’s laughing, and she didn’t think laughter would be part of all this. She didn’t think it could be. But here she is, laughing and kissing and holding a man who, at some point, she’s going to want to beat.She does her best not to think of that now.It’s a friendly competition, after all. It’s not life and death. It’s baking. - great british bake off au 

*In Bloom - E - 13k - The flowers that bedeck her skin don’t lie—ballet dancer Rey is in love with her partner, Ben. But the years go by and his skin stays resolutely, devastatingly blank.He doesn’t love her. But when his hands are on her body, she can pretend. - ballet soulmates au

By Blood and Flame - E - 10k - Rey can’t go to her professors with this spell. She needs help, though, needs someone to do the spell with her, and she needs the best because it’s tricky. Dangerous.There’s a boy on campus. Powerful. Mysterious. He’s admired and envied, feared and loathed, depending on who’s talking, but for all everyone knows his story, no one seems to really know him. And Rey… Rey has been curious about him for… well, for longer than she wants to admit.She’s not sure if it’s good or bad luck that he’s the perfect person to help cast her spell. - magic college au

count the rings - E - 63k - “Because you’re sitting there all comfy, not looking at all bridal-” “I’ll just fetch the veil out of my backpack, shall I?” “-when you could be, you know, making a move on that fine-ass tree.” In which camping comes with unexpected consequences. - accidental marriage au

(won’t you let me) walk you home from school - E - 129k - Ben, a counselor in the upper school at the legendary Alliance Academy, keeps finding himself interacting with the lower school art teacher, Rey. He definitely doesn’t like it. - teacher au

follow in your form - E - 23k - Ben Solo wakes up paralyzed and angry about it.A story about dealing with change, holding onto hope, and finding love. - quadriplegic ben au 

*screwdriver - M -101k - Rey is a bright-eyed intern on her first campaign trail, Ben is an irritated data analyst, and how difficult can it be to get a legacy senator elected president? Apparently fucking impossible. - political au

9 pints - E - 83k - She knew next to nothing, and Google was largely unhelpful. All of her searches (“vampire sex rules” and “vampire dos and don’ts” and one very self-indulgent “average vampire cock size big?”) linked her to dated top ten lists written by anyone other than an actual vampire.Twenty minutes of frustrated scrolling eventually led her to a supernatural dating forum. The website was horribly aged, but still active. Questions were tagged, which meant that it was easy to narrow down her search. Vampire, she clicked, and Sex.--In which Rey gets suckered into shooting porn with one of Poe's pickiest vampire actors. - magical porn stars au

fine young cannibals - E - 27k - Kylo raised his head to the sky as he inhaled, his broad chest expanding even wider. His eyes fluttered shut, savoring the scent like a sumptuous meal. He grinned.“Oh,” he murmured, so softly Rey wasn’t even sure it was meant for her ears. His eyes slid to meet hers, scarlet and violent and hungry. “You brought a snack.”And then all hell broke loose.About three things, Rey is absolutely positive:First, she is totally, completely, and madly in love with her vampire boyfriend, Poe.Second, there is another vampire—an older, evil, definitely-not-hot vampire—that thirsts for her blood and wants nothing more than to kill her.And third, she is maybe not absolutely positive about either of these things. - twilight au

Epithumia - E - 46k- ἐπιθυμία, ας, ἡ: epithumia : desire, passionate longing, lust *** “No extra credit.” He made a noise that might have been a laugh. “You ask that every time.” “Well, I have to try.” Rey said, weakly. “Can you make an exception?” A lone eyebrow ascended his lofty forehead into his hairline. “Try harder, Miss Kenobi.” - college teacher/student au

Historical AUs (ranging from medieval to the early 2000s)

light carries on endlessly - M - 6k - “Traitor,” he told Cerberus gruffly not too much later, using both hands to scratch behind the hound’s many ears. What appeared to be a rat tail lay nearby on a blood-stained bit of stone. “What did I tell you about women with pretty eyes?”One wet tongue lapped at his wrist, and he sighed. “Right. Nothing.” - Hades and Persephone au 

The Witch in the Wood - E - 138k - As a knight errant of the kingdom of Alderaan, Kylo Ren has traveled the country, completing quest after perilous quest in search of redemption for the dark deeds of his past. When an evil witch captures the princess of a neighboring kingdom, Kylo reluctantly accepts the burden of rescue with the assumption that it will be a simple task.It is not. For the creature that lives in the woods is not a monster at all.Since her mentor died, Rey has lived in the witch’s tree and uses magic to maintain the balance of the forest. Her life is practical, repetitive, and simple—at least, until a wrathful knight thunders through her door and levels a sword at her throat. Yet something within the knight calls to her, a buzz beneath his skin that she recognizes.Without a doubt, he is not who he appears to be. - medieval witch au

Black Knight, White Queen - E - 53k - Luke Skywalker wrote his sister a letter on his deathbed, revealing that his ward is the orphaned heir of a family long thought extinct - and politically powerful. That letter fell into the wrong hands, and the secret of Rey's heritage is secret no more. The Emperor has managed to unite the Kingdoms, but he is old, and his son is weak. Seeking to ensure his son's claim to his throne, he sends his most trusted captain to bring the girl - willing or not - to be his son's bride. Rey is taken from her far-flung home, and plunged into a world of court intrigue, arranged marriage, political rivals, and would-be assassins - the black knight her constant companion and bodyguard. But even he, her dark shadow and protector, she cannot know whether to trust... - medieval bodyguard au 

Days to Remember - E - 42k - A man heads home after years of estrangement. What do you need from me? A woman leaves her world behind, a bird in a gilded cage. When we get to New York, I need help running away. -- I'll bring you to Boston with me. - titanic au 

*what if the storm ends - E - 61k - As a child, Rey is evacuated from London to the Yorkshire Dales during the Blitz. She spends the war in the care of the Solos on their farm, wandering the moors with their son looking for a legendary family artifact long lost. When the war is over, she returns to a city she no longer recognizes, and she writes a popular series of children's fantasy books based on her childhood in the Dales. After amassing fame and fortune with her stories, tragedy brings her back to the farm to see Ben Solo, once her greatest inspiration and now a widower. - post WWII au 

Take Me - E - 39k - Every night, at 8:30 pm, Rey and Ben get on stage and pretend to be in love with each other. At 9:15, they walk off stage and the actual fireworks begin. - 60s country singers au

I could have been wild, I could have been free (but nature played a trick on me) - M - 61k - “Did you know that I did not even learn your name until yesterday, when I married you?”His face flushed a darker red than it had at breakfast, and he attempted to defend himself with incompetent stammering, “I—I regret that. The situation, of course, would have been,” he wrung his hands together and stared at her feet, “It would have been preferable if we had known one another more. On several occasions, I did attempt to make myself known to you, but you seemed to have other preoccupations.”Rey could feel her face contorting into a sneer to spit out her barbed words, “Perhaps that was your cue not to marry me!” - regency arranged marriage au 

Patch - M - 20k - He is nineteen when he first sees her.She comes to the rink alone, laces her skates alone, strokes warm-up circles alone...He looks at her, really looks her in the eye, and he decides he likes what he sees.She may be young, but she is hungry and angry, and for now? That’s enough for him.It’s not like he has a lot of options. - 80 russian ice skaters au 

*The Great Big No - E - 165k - Kylo Ren is third generation rock royalty, a reigning brat prince starting to feel the burn of the fame he reached for with both hands. Rey is an aspiring singer on the verge of a big break, provided her A&R guy still has a job by the time she reaches LA. Their paths have crossed briefly, disappointingly, before. What happens when they collide? - 90s rock au

***go I know not whither and fetch I know not what - E - 119k - The year is 1994. The Iron Curtain has come down, the oligarchs have begun their rise to power, and Kyril Ren, a powerful member of the infamous crime syndicate Solntsevskaya Bratva, has been given a job: hunt down an estranged uncle who has been snitching to the FBI.Irena, nicknamed Rey by her adoptive father Luke, is a Krav Maga instructor in New York who has finally been able to obtain her original birth certificate from Russia. Turns out she was born in a little village named Vershinino, but if she wants to know more than that… she’s going to have to go there herself. - 90s russian mafia au 

we could plant a house, we could build a tree - E -124k - Ben takes a deep breath. “It’s—it’s a project. Conceptual art. You wouldn’t get it.”Rey presses her lips together to keep from laughing. She plans her next words quickly and carefully, determining what will get her the best reaction. “Really? Looks like you ruined a bedsheet to me.”His reaction does not disappoint. “Get out.” ** Seven-year-old Rey decides it's her duty to annoy the crap out of Ben Solo every single day she's alive. - 90s growing up together artist au

[yandere-wishes]

My Queen My Prey // Yandere Leona Kingscholar x reader//

This AMAZING edit was made by the SUPER AWESOME @twst-the-royals​ or @lethal-lambs​

A cryptic little story I whipped up, thanks to the sudden flow of ideas I got from the super talented Julie's yandere Leona edit. So blame her for this monstrosity  😂🤣 

Summary: You and Leona are opposites that keep getting in each other's ways. And yet there isn't a single damn thing Leona wouldn't do for you. 

TW: Gore, blood, mention of suicide, mention of death, mention of past abuse, neglect, and abandonment.

🦁 💛 🦁 💛 🦁 💛 🦁 💛 🦁 💛 🦁 💛 🦁 💛 🦁 💛 🦁 💛 🦁 💛 🦁 💛

It was so easy to forget that he loved you, 

At least that's how Leona saw it. The two of you were on opposite ends of some invisible, undeceivable spectrum. 

Leona was the lazy one, the greedy one, he wanted the whole damn world to bow and grovel at his feet. 

You where the lively one, the carefree, cheerful spirit that haunted Night Raven, you wanted the whole damn world to burn for every single scar it had engraved in your soul. 

Ever the opposing forces you two where. Yet somehow faith, or whichever other invisible forces that orchestrated the universe, found ways to throw you in each other's paths. Just like opposite magnates being pulled together. 

The first time you asked Leona if he wanted to die, was probably the first time the lion boy realized he needed you. The mere thought of having you stripped away from him was enough to make him double over and almost puke. It's the first time he ever thought about you as more than a pesky fly that never left him alone. Of course, he didn't want you to know that. No way! Leona's smart, he's gotten horrifically good at reading people over the years. He knows that the only reason you all so casually throw him the question is that you don't think he'll care. You think he'll just fabricate some sarcastic answer and go back to his thoughtless slumber. 

And yet that abhorrent sickly feeling goes away the moment you depart to your dorm. When you leave, it's like you take every "good" feeling away with you. When his emerald eyes can't see you, he doesn't "feel" anything. 

No love,

No need,

No want,

Just annoyance at a world that has beaten him down since the day he took his first breath. 

The first time Leona actually killed someone was the night he realized he was addicted to you. 

The lights flicker in some incomprehensible fashion. Like they're trying to tell him something, some dark dreary secret that can't be spoken in words. 

He feels warm, too warm. It's like his body's on fire -who knew another person's blood would feel so scorching- Leona's mesmerized by the sticky crimson that stains his palms. It reminds him of you, all of you, that he'll do anything for you. No matter how goriest and macabre it may seem. 

The truth about the hunt is that it's always scarier than it seems, the thought of blood is scarier than the actual goopy feeling of it. The perception of the mangled, disjointed corps is much worst than it's a real sight.

It's then and there that Leona swears on the grave of his ancestors that he'll kill for you again, that all the blood and gore in the world isn't frighting enough to keep him away from you. 

It's been years since the two of you graduated from Night Raven. Years since you convinced Leona that there were better things in life than the thrown of some shallow country. 

No one really knows what happened to the two of you after graduation. Leona likes to think he kidnapped you, he stole you away from your painful life and gave you some sort of purpose as his sweet little wife.

Truth is, that's not what really happened. 

You knew what he was going to do, days before he'd even finished his plans. You hardly struggled when he wrapped his clawed fingers around your neck. Only nodded along excitedly at every death threat and murder promise he made. 

You wanted this, needed this,  just as much as he did. 

Leona Kingscholar was your obverse in everything imaginable. 

Leona wanted you to be his prey, to be his queen, to be his.

You wanted to be his equal, his damsel in distress, to be there for him.

The former second prince likes to think that you're the only person in the world that understands him. Maybe that's why he did it, maybe that's why when you said those contradicting, backward speeches, he understood them perfectly. 

"Kill them all and you'll be a god, that's far better than being some measly forgettable king!"

It's been four years since the two of you left Night Raven behind, four years since either of you had seen your friends and family, four years since you'd thought about dying some poetic death, four years since Leona thought about the throne to a country whose name is all but forgotten. 

It's after four long years that Leona Kingscholare realizes he's in love with you. He can pinpoint the exact moment he realized he loved you. That one glorious, perfect moment when the world for all its irony and incongruities started to make sense.

The world was burning, the thing that once caused the two of you endless pain and suffering at been reduced to vermilion flames and painful screams of agony. The invisible forces had once again, at the end of time, thrown the two of you together, only this time you weren't opposites at all, you were the exact same thing. 

Just two people relishing in the mayhem that they had created. Dancing to the rhythm of the inferno and the symphony of pain. 

And it was in that very moment, that all so perfect moment, as your bright eyes reflected the raging fires and your laugh ringed above all else that Leona Kinscholare finally understood what love was. 

Love was you 

It had always been you

[decxdaily]

Words of Last Breath!✨

"I would like to see thy cry." I can't cry. There wasn't a day, when I didn't put my head on the pillow with an alluring smile and waking up, coming out of the banket with an alluring smile. I never felt a sense of agony, as I felt today, a feeling, a sense of Mayhem between my feelings, my thoughts. I felt, to cry I need pain, suffering. But what kind of pain? Pain of a father scolding s son, Pain of boy beating up another boy, Pain of completely losing someone? There was no such pain that could break me in the flow of suffering of life. I felt, hitherto there was none. But until she walked with me, held my hands and stabbed where I didn't got bloodbathed, but where I just got lost! Yeah..Lost! Finding a path.. Where my tear drops can flow. A path that could only be found by my drops of divine. Even the deep cut of the knife that went through my finger tips making a slim open grave on it, didn't even make my eyes filled up with the drops of trembling and crushed feelings. Rather my fingers cried, they bloodbathed at midnight. When everyone was asleep to hear my suffering, my agony and let my tearless pain calm down. The silent cries of mine at midnight to bear the truth, the reality that makes me feel dead day by day. But, also asks me to live, in a hope to see thy smile. I am just putting my life on everyday trial, and still didn't get to know when the trial ends and I'll start living it. But I know it'll do end. End on something that will fade away my suffering and agony, that will make an agreement between the turmoil among my feelings and thoughts to just stop. Sooner or later it will collapse! Thou be thinking my love for thou may collapse. Sooner or later, it will slowly collapse. It cannot hold the dark sea inside me that is made by the blood and sweat of each and every feeling and thought that is in the riot. A riot where losing makes thou more stronger. It cannot hold, it will break into tiny million pieces, shredding through each and every part of my body, killing, reducing my breath until thou! Slowly my body will rupture, on the verge of suffering to death. A death of remained questions, a death of remained thoughts, a death where I have nothing to lose. Considering a life where my existence and solcitude by thou really matter after death! A death which will bury down an entire universe within the universe!

For thou! Thou are great!

[of-tatooine]

mercy. | chapter 6 - life

you shoot first and ask questions later.

Obitus.

Death. It had been one of the first basic Latin terminology you had learned all those years ago in nursing school, back when you had thought memorizing ancient words related to your studies was the hardest thing ever. Waking up early for clinical trials and cramming through the tests, sometimes crashing on the library couch were most you could remember from those simpler times but above all the memories, etched deep within your very soul and mind had been your remarkable professors - how much they valued life.

Human or not, all forms of life had always been sacred and should have been protected at all costs - those were the teachings they all tried to instill into young minds, doctors and nurses alike. People who were going to dedicate blood and sweat into treating others in need. The recurring doctrine echoed in your mind relentlessly through the years - if you were going to save lives, you were going to do so by not harming life itself first. Every single medical procedure performed, no matter how unimportant and mundane they seemed, had to do with protecting and letting prosper, and thus was sacred in some way of thinking. If needed, and it often was, you were always ready to completely sacrifice your own health and well-being if it meant doing good for the ones suffering.

Nothing ever came close to the pure happiness and wonder, knowing that you saved the patient in the operating room who would die had it not been for your help - an almost daily feeling back in a better time.

It seemed like you took more lives than you helped live these days. The sacredness of the profession you had chosen for a lifetime had slipped through your fingers when you had first pulled a trigger on a human being, the very creature you had sworn to protect, turned or not. Killing became the new norm in the cruel world, and it contradicted the very essence of your soul. Saving lives had been a losing game in a world full of bloodshed and mayhem, you would learn over years of pain. One you could play only for so long before you succumbed to your own demise.

For the time being, it had to be another one's death in exchange for your life.

It was just the way the world worked.

"Fuckin' hell!"

The residual echoes of the loud gunshot rang in your ears combined with the panting and gasping of the other man. Waiting only a split second to see the guy on your right crumble down on the ground with a sickening thud, blood and brains splattering around the cream walls, you ducked back to cover fast. Faint smoke rose up in gentle waves from the barrel of your gun, your chest heaving up and down in anticipation of what was to come next.

It would have been great if you had a fucking clue yourself. The honed survival instinct within you had screamed less heads the better, and it was a rule you had found yourself following often lately which explained the freshly-dead, bleeding body somewhere in the living room. What the instinct did not tell you immediately was how to deal with a damn Firefly whose best friend you had just murdered in cold blood, who maybe knew you or about you - neither of them increasing your chances of survival against this enemy. Seemed like you would have to improvise once again, you had been doing that an awful lot lately that led you to this fucking mess to begin with - yet you had no other choice but to trust your muscle memory and the leftover bullets in your handgun to get you through this.

The lingering soreness in your injured thigh was making that trust run out in a pretty steady pace.

Mutters of the approaching man could be heard as he took a couple of steps that made the hardwood vibrate, no doubt glancing at his fallen friend for any vital signs. Not finding any hope, you would hear him cursing out again, frantically breathing as a metallic click sound echoed.

“I'm gonna find you, you fuckin' hear me? Come out!”

The knuckles clutching around the revolver in your hands became white from exertion, the grip becoming vice-like as the creaking sound of the wood under his heavy feet made stealth impossible. Coming closer and closer, you could hear his rugged breath - terrified because of the unknown source of death looming.

Holding your breath in haste of what was to come, the adrenaline coarsing through your veins was what made you slowly slide up the wall and land a violent, well-placed kick to the man’s calf as the toe of his boots showed up through the archway, sending his gun go sprawling off with him collapsing in a loud growl.

The blow to his tibia would not be enough to break it, but it was a well-executed one to send him to his knees. Eyes sparkling with determination, a couple grunts of your own slipped past your lips from sheer effort as you took quick steps approaching the man clutching onto his lower leg, left panting, one hand trying to reach towards his gun over at the edge of the wall.

“Alright, now,” slipped out of your mouth, words rather uncharacteristically laced with some form of cruelty as your military boots pressed onto his wriggling fingers in a sickening crunch which made him scream his damn lungs out for all the neighborhood to hear.

“You fuckin’ bitch! I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you!” he drabbled in his last stand, spittle on the corners of his mouth, body twisting and turning, trying to claw at your leg. He did manage to, his hand reaching up to tear the bandage on your wound, dirty fingers digging into the sore ache of a scab through the fabric, sending you howling in pain. Without thinking, you would slap the butt of the handle onto his tugging hand through gritted teeth, your leg buckling and threatening to collapse. Your supporting one swung in a desperate attempt to kick the guy in his guts, landing and knocking the air out of him for only a second, giving you enough time to sit yourself down on his stomach, straddling him with a hand viciously pressing against his windpipe.

The pain in your leg as you knelt was fucking killing you, sending warm waves of agony all over your body. You prayed the wound did not pop open again - if it did, you were worse off living than dead. It had been no time to lick your wounds and worry about possible blood infection - with the cold barrel of your gun pressed against the man’s throat, your hand cutting off his circulation bit by bit. He must have been a new recruit, somewhat young - his face did not ring any bells from your old days and maybe it was for the best.

“Here’s how this is gonna play out,” you ordered, voice dripping in dark, dark venom, eyes boring daggers into his terrified expression. “You’re gonna tell me who the fuck you were searchin’ for around here,” the words continued, causing the man to gulp and cough dryly, his foot tapping onto the ground helplessly. 

“Or you can join your little friend over there.”

In a matter of seconds, his blue eyes seemed to be damn near exploding out of their sockets as he took a good look at your face, making you raise an eyebrow ever so slightly as you clenched your jaw. “Please let me go,” he started to beg this time, frantically, the taunts he used to throw your way long gone, writhing under your grip. “Promise I won’t fuckin’ give anything away… not a word outta me. Just let me go.”

Not able to comprehend just what the hell the man was rambling about, you did what you knew best to do - pressed the barrel tighter against his neck, tilting your own head as you inched closer to his face. 

“What the fuck are you squirmin’ about? Give what away?” you asked, your patience growing thinner by the second. The hand on his windpipe eased just the right bit to allow him to form words.

“We were lookin’ for you,” he confessed after a moment of silence, beads of cold sweat descending his cheeks, voice cracking and hoarse. The shock on your face no doubt readable from his stance. Eyebrows furrowed in confusion, you would let out a growl, pushing the man more.

“Who the fuck sent you?”

“Who the fuck do you think? Marlene. She said she needed you and sent us over,” he gave out, pressure the barrel on his neck making the veins bulge on his temple. “There. I gave you everything. I swear to God I don’t know nothin’ else. Let me go,” the man would plead, not even giving you a moment to reflect on the new information you acquired that dumbfounded you, to say the least. He would stare at you from his position, see the unbelieving glints in your eyes.

What on earth did the Fireflies want with you again, let alone send men to gather you up? It seemed like you were pondering for a moment, mouth agape only for a second before you came to your senses and gave him a firm nod of your head.

“I believe you,” you would say before you pulled the trigger, sending one right through his throat as red splattered on your face from the impact, sending his head limping backwards as he gargled on his own blood in a relatively quick death.

“Christ...” you muttered to yourself, your brain running a hundred miles a second as you lifted yourself up and away from straddling the dead Firefly. It previously occurred to you that once you left the compound and got discharged from their service, you had been a free woman. That the Fireflies had way more to worry about than a surgical nurse who had escaped from their group. You had managed to get by on your own years after you left, and figured it would always be this way, only hearing about your old crew from the bombings in zones and the wanted posters. Why did the Majesty herself need you so damn badly, then out of all the moments, to the point that she sent actual men after you to your last known location?

Your thoughts were interrupted right away as the tall man and the small girl, who let out a loud fuck the moment the door swung open, stood in the doorway with Joel’s arm shielding her lightly from going further - until he was sure all danger had been gone, his other hand pointing his own revolver. His face that scanned the room intently, was a mixture - shocked, relieved, somewhat disappointed, and scared. It was some expression you could not discern but it gave away more than his usual demeanor - it did not take you much to realize they had stepped in after hearing double gunshots, maybe checking to see if you were dead and if they needed to finish the job themselves, though you had this hunch he had an eye on you as you infiltrated the house, watching from the windows.

It was ironic that a part of you wished you had been killed right there and then, after all. Any demise would be considered paradise compared to getting hunted down by your ex-kin, with you outnumbered and alone.

Yet the lone-wolf survivor in you, no doubt still running high off the pumping adrenaline, told you to put one in between both their eyes and just drive the fuck out of there, it was a good chance as any, but one quick lingering glance at Ellie who stood rigidly alert behind Joel - halted you.

Instead, you took deep, heavy breaths, with a bloody hand clutching onto your overworked recovering leg, all you could do was send a shaky, wide-eyed nod to the pair.

“You’re safe,” you would announce the visible fact in a breathy voice, as if you were trying to make yourself believe in that rather than them. “The keys should be around somewhere.”

Only after those words echoed in the house now littered with fresh corpses, Joel would lower his gun only slightly yet did not holster it, letting Ellie move a little move freely as he tossed you a brief nod.

Replying with a nod of your own directed his way, you let the pair rummage through the empty living room while you made your way back to your latest victim, kneeling beside. Crimson oozed in a lazy haze down what was left of his throat, coating the hardwood, the smell of copper sulking. His outstretched hand left in a sickening angle due to his broken fingers under your firm step. It was routine to search corpses for any goods that could help you survive, but this time, it scared you to death knowing what you could find inside those pockets of his.

“Found it,” you would hear Ellie announce with her innocent voice that should not belong in a world full of sins, the jiggling of a metal key ringing in the air much to all comfort.

Just as she found something in the means of her survival, you would come across the bane of yours, something you tried to bury so desperately in your past. From the breastpocket of his jacket, with trembling hands, you extracted the chain, its familiar twinkle surrounding you as the round pendant partially covered in dry blood rested in your palm before you tucked it in your pocket hastily.

And it proved all your fears, seeing that it had your name carved on it, in capitals.

next

[noonemonitorsmyscreentime]

Ungodly

Because I, again, lost my goddamn mind I decided to write the fight from S15, ep19 from Chuck’s perspective, sort of. Like it’s from Chuck’s perspective but in the third person because that makes sense somehow. It’s like real short. And obvs fan fiction, but like commentary, maybe, idk. Anywaaay... enjoy?

“You can’t defeat GOD!” thought Chuck as he kept punching and kicking Sam and Dean. He was finally going to make them show him the respect he deserves. How dared two little insignificant humans mess with his story? They were his toys to do as he saw fit. He kept trying to fix them and yet they were constantly broken. At what point do you give up on trying to make them work? 

Chuck couldn’t believe his eyes when he saw those two Winchester bastards rising up after each blow. The constant defiance had lost its cuteness a while back. What would it take to finally beat them?

They could barely stand and had to use each other for support. Together they couldn't make for a whole man and yet, they still chose to try and be two. It really wasn't a fair fight. "Why are you smiling?”

“Because, you lose.” Sam Winchester’s bloodied face was defiant. Maybe he had punched the sense out of the younger brother. Lucifer would have been disappointed to find out that the one who finally broke Sam Winchester had been his pops. But Sam wasn't looking at him. His gaze was fixated on something behind him.

Ha!

Jack. Poor kid was going to see his adoptive dads being beaten to death before he, himself… well, not meet his maker-- before he, himself, would be silenced for good. And with the brothers gone, it would also stick.

What was that silly little child going to do? There was no angel daddy to trade his life for him, his actual daddy, the supposedly new favorite son was soundly sleeping in the empty and his two mommies were in Heaven. This kid did not have a great track record with keeping parents alive. He killed all his moms and all his dads died for him. In any case they will soon. Chuck supposed that the Winchesters could wait a while longer for the next punch. “Hey, Jack.”

He slowly closed the gap between them. The kid was just staring at him. This was too easy. How much fighting had they done and how much pain had they suffered to bring the boy back, and he was just standing in front of him, not even a weapon in hand?

The kid was a great story beat and Lucifer really threw him a curveball by becoming a father. Jack had outlived his narrative expectation to a greater extent than Chuck would have thought possible. He had to admit that his grandson was, as late story additions go, a good one in spite of his cliched beginnings. But how many kids with abusive fathers and dead mothers can you have before it all gets too tedious? He was so innocent, so pained, so tortured and so, so very and thoroughly annoying.

Chuck snapped his fingers expecting the boy to dissolve in a delightfully fine mist of pink. After all, how many times did he need to get rid of the kid to finally make it stick?

 Nothing happened. Jack was still in front of him, mirroring his look of disbelief. He'd give him that just like all the men in his life, he was hard to get rid of. Chuck snapped his fingers once more. Again. Nothing. Jack was still in front of him, but he could see that something was changing in the child. He took a step closer to god.

Snap. Nothing. Step. Snap. Nothing. Step. Snap. Nothing. Step. Snap. Nothing. Step. Snap. Nothing. Step. Snap. Nothing. No more steps left.

The boy put his hands on each side of Chuck’s face while his eyes glowed and the veins in his body became illuminated with a powerful gold light. Chuck had known this feeling before; this incredible river of power leaving him was the power needed for the Creation. But, it was at the same time different; he was not merely being drained of power, he was losing it, never to be replenished again.

It was agony. It was his hell. It was never ending.

When the last flicker of power was consumed Chuck fell to the ground trying to catch his breath. He had never felt so weak. He had never been this weak. He would always be this weak.

He heard a snap and prepared to be disintegrated. Instead he saw Sam and Dean healed.

Sam picked up his book that now lay open on the ground. “What… What did you do?”

Dean Winchester looked at him from above, his face half illuminated by the warm sun, each feature of this perfectly crafted weapon was sculpted and majestic “We won.”

“So this is how it ends. My book.”

By the time he finished his words Sam had arrived near him, book open in hand. “See for yourself” he said as he threw it in front of him.

The pages were blank. There were no words. “There’s nothing there.”

“Oh, there is, but only Death can read it.” Cold chills moved up and down Chuck's body at the younger brother's words. They hadn't known how to beat him. He knew that it was time for the victory monologue. He needed an explanation. And, boy, did the brothers deliver one

!“That’s right. So we had to come up with a plan B. That wasn’t too hard though when we realized that Michael really is a daddy’s boy. See, he didn’t take it too well when he found out that you asked Lucifer for help. Oh, he was desperate to be the favorite again.” Dean stated in a cold voice, some disdain directed to Michael. It was natural after all, one iteration took his body for a joyride of murder, mayhem and world domination and the other tricked and used Adam to bring about the end of times. 

“Since we couldn’t read the book we had to come up with a story about finding the spell, which we knew Michael would feed straight to you” Sam continued. “All that prep work we did to turn Jack into a cosmic bomb? Well, it turned him into a… a sort of power vacuum. He’s been sucking up bits of power all over the place. So, when the two heavyweights -- your boys-- showed up to duke it out, oh-hoh! That charged him right up.” Oh, if only his children had managed to work together all of this could have been so different. With Michael and Lucifer by his side Sam and Dean would have never won.

“See, we knew Michael would warn you and you’d show up here. And you did. And you killed your own son.” This was the fatal mistake, Michael should have been punished last. John Winchester had it right, kill the spirit, not the body.

“And you beat the crap out of us. Releasing all kinds of power. God power.” “Jack absorbed it all. It made him...”“Well, it made him unstoppable.” Dean finished the explanation.

Chuck can’t help but laugh. “This… This.. This is why you are my favorites.”

Sam, Dean and Jack look at each other wondering if Chuck understood anything of what he had been told or if his mind had gone alongside his powers.

“You know, for the first time I have no idea what happens next. Is this where you kill me?”

It’s easy to see on Sam’s face that it's a tempting idea and one that had been given some thought. He looks at Dean, on whose face only disgust is shown. “I mean, I could never think of an ending where I lose. But, this, after, everything that I’ve done to you… to die at the hands of Sam Winchester… of Dean Winchester, the ultimate killer...” 

Both brothers got a long look from the former god when he said their names. In turn they exchanged a glance, cold fury shone in Dean’s eyes, while Sam’s bore a much somber look of sad pensiveness. A quiet conversation was taking place. Sam would follow Dean’s lead, who now held Chuck’s fate in his hands, in what, the former Supernatural writer, felt was an ironic twist.

Chuck laughed in a last attempt to taunt the boys, to make them dance to his music “It’s kind of glorious.” He knew how to push their buttons, he’d done it for so many years. They were as close to a perfect creation as he had ever come. “Sorry, Chuck.” was Dean’s verdict, who moved right along to sentencing.

Chuck cowered in fear. Dean had no weapon in his hand, no magic gun or special knife. No stakes or arrows or even grenades. Death had to come by hand. But it didn’t. “What? What?”

“See, that’s not who I am. That’s not who we are.” They are free of him. Killing is not the only option anymore.

“What kind of an ending is this?” The last sliver of control that Chuck had over his precious Winchesters faded away.

They are his creation! They are not his favorite when they act in unexpected ways that don’t benefit him. Or his story. A little death, then straight to Heaven for some peace and quiet and relaxation. He deserved it. He only knows how much.

“His power. You sure it won’t come back?” Sam asked the kid. “It’s not his power anymore.” Jack replied truthfully. 

Sam gives a short half smile to this. What Jack said is good. “Then, I think it’s the ending where you’re just like us and like all the other humans you forgot about.”

“It’s the ending where you grow old, you get sick and you just die” despite Dean’s mercy, it was clear that it would have given him great pleasure to make Chuck feel a fragment of what the men in front of him had endured for his amusement, but he took content in knowing that Chuck’s own creation would do the job for him. The world would save Dean from killing after all the killing Dean had done for its sake. 

“And no one cares. And no one remembers you. You’re just forgotten.” The final blow delivered with steel precision right in Chuck’s, now human, heart had been made by Sam.

The trio moves towards the Impala leaving him in dust. “Guys… Guys.. wait.”

The engine revs and they drive away to the sound of Chuck’s begging “Guys… Guys! No, wait… G-guys… Guys, wait! Guys, wait! Guys, wait! Wait! Wait! Wait! Please, wait! Guys!”

Chuck falls into the dust sobbing.

He has no one. He’s all alone.

“

[undead-notunreasonable]

HAPPY DRAC-O-WEEN || PART 31 OF 31 ||

The sound of dripping stirred Dracula from his slumber, his body felt a strange mixture of light & heavy. Both mourning & relief. There was a strange silence about the place he were in, something held within the air but he couldn’t figure out what it could be. Eyes opened slowly, seeing the stone ceiling above him, the way the candlelight flickered onto the condensation suggested he was somewhere dark, somewhere underground, a cellar perhaps. But it couldn’t have been any ordinary cellar, at least most cellars don’t have beds within them, almost like nurses beds. With a soft groan, Dracula sat up on his elbows, letting his eyes adjust to the light. It’d been at least a century that he’d been somewhere that relied solely on candlelight to illuminate a room. A shuffle in a seat drew his attention to a woman in what seemed to be a blue cloak, a...habit. If he could breathe, it would certainly catch in his throat. “Oh good, you’re awake at last.” a thick, chirpy Dutch accent called back to him. Dracula felt so tired & above all confused, staring at the woman until she pushed past his blurred vision by coming to his bedside “Agatha?” he called out weakly, trying to make sense of it all. “Yes, Count Dracula. You are at my side once again it seems, you’re harder to distance myself from than anyone else.” she slid into a seat, looking at him with a look of scepticism. “What’s going on? How am I here?” he asked trying to sit himself upright until he felt cool slim fingers pressing him down again. “That is not the question we have to ask ourselves.” she urged, dropping her nose so she could look at him with an arched brow. “But if you must know, it seems that those lives you have taken within your 500 years not only live on through you but you continue to live on through them. I seem to be the prioritised choice, which makes sense when you think about it, I was the only one after all who came closer than anyone to understand the beast.” “I feel I’m hardly a beast, I haven’t been this tired in centuries.” he wheezed out and tired he looked, his eyes could barely keep open, his body just hurt, almost as though he were mortal. Agatha watched on at him, arching her neck to get a better look, observing the man who were much different to the woman she’d met at those convent gates. “The question isn’t how but why?” Agatha urged, she particularly enjoyed watching people figure things out for themselves. “Because your blood is within my blood, not only did I carry you, you carried me, all the people whose lives I’ve taken I can easily return to like a terrible book I just can’t seem to finish.” Van Helsing had a glowing smile on her lips at that. “And you can’t bare a bad book, can you?” another arch of her brow, this time rather than judging him, she was challenging him. Dracula’s dark eyes flicked to hers for a brief moment before looking ahead once more, staring at more stone wall dripping with liquid. He lay quiet just then, thinking things over. How did he get here, what had just happened that sent him within his own mind. He was storming the foundation himself and...Vlad. A jolt in his memory brought about the flash of a vision: Vlad’s head on a spike, where it was always meant to be. Surely he would be here with him, inside his veins, they’d shared blood so surely-- “Vladimir Tepes is not here, Count Dracula.” Agatha interjected. “Remember, we’re connected, I can hear your thoughts.” His eyes scanned the walls, recounting everything that had happened and how it came to Vlad being beheaded. His hands began to shake and eyes filled with tears “They killed him. They stole him away from me just when we’d found each other again. We loved each other & we were going to rule--” he began to babble, feeling his heart burn with pain. “--I’m surprised someone as cruel & deadly as you could love someone but I’m afraid that notion was never returned to you.” Agatha remained steady then, knowing her words were unkind but it better to speak the truth. “What are you talking about, of course he did--” “No. He didn’t.” she spoke more sternly this time, taking hold of the conversation like a riding bull “He was using you to win the throne, making you do all the dirty work, finding out information, infiltrating the foundation, speaking to Mr Harker, then he was going to make you his second man.” Dracula took a complete offence to this, cheeks puffing with anger at how a nun could talk about his relationship. “Think about it.” Agatha urged “Whenever you tried to initiate things, did he reciprocate those feelings?” Dracula’s puffed cheeks slowly dropped as he thought things through. He seemed to avoid him all the more the plan were staring to come together. “And didn’t he just steal a human away from you just now? Almost as though he was power hungry, and you just let him.” Annoyingly, as always, Agatha was right. Piecing these things together made Dracula begin to shake once more, trembling with heart break before he burst out into tears. “Oh!” she beamed at the sight, being somewhat cruel in her actions “The vampire does cry, that’s new.” His tears faltered then, taking in a deep breath, realising that he didn’t want that in front of her. His lips pursed in annoyance instead. Until his original question remained in his mind: How is he here? “You’re talking to me, an awful lot, just like before.” his eyes narrowed as he watched her. Agatha rose from her seat, walking away from his bedside again. Dracula sat up immediately, honing his focus on the nun “You’re distracting me again, Agatha Van Helsing. What are you up to?” just then, he climbed out of the bed, seeing himself back in Jonathans robes after he’d torn at his face. “You’re a creature of consequence.” she turned on her heel, raising her chin to look up at him. “All creatures, even humans, have to suffer for their actions.” “You’re killing me, aren’t you?” “No.” her hands folded together as she kept herself calm, and stood strong against the vampire. “I’m not the one killing you.”

A strange sucking sound grew to become an overwhelming sound of vacuum. The surroundings had melted away from that of underground cellar in St Mary’s Convent Budapest to what seemed as though they stood in middle of a tornado. Dracula had to shield his eyes from the dust, squinting to see if he could find any sign of, well, anything beyond this whirlwind. There were screams and moans twirling through the dust, swirling into his hair & clothing. “Where am I?” he called out to the woman in front of him. Agatha still remained still, hands neatly folded as thought the wind didn’t rock her. “Your turmoil!” she called back against the noise “Your victims, your pure unfiltered chaos! All wrapped into one great storm!” Dracula grabbed at the woman then, snarling down at her “Put me back, put me back at that Foundation!” his eyes were wild & shining, matching the mayhem of their surroundings. Pain, excruciating agony but at least the surroundings were quiet aside from his cries. His eyes laid upon the stake of which pierced through his chest, splintering through his heart. A hand reached up to clutch at it & found it covered in blood, having already attempted without himself knowing. His breath wobbled, blood, his own, trickled up from his throat. This was his end. He’d never thought it would be something like this, he always imagined in a much grander scheme, a ruler, adored, not... inside a research centre. He cried out again, eyes meeting the head of Vlad where heartbreak & anger were at war with one another. He choked on his blood once more. How did this happen? The position of the stake were just out of reach for him to pull out. “D,” a female voice called out, tears streaming down her face. “I had to do it.” her voice waved. His eyes looked from the stake until they met beautiful shining brown ones. Lucy Westenra was the one to make him meet his demise, who’d have thought? “I saw what you was planning.” she dropped to her knees, small hands covered in his blood, trembling just as much as he did. “I’m so sorry, D. I couldn’t---” she hiccupped “---I couldn’t let that happen. I couldn’t let you go through with it. Not again.” despite her anger, she was riddled with remorse, clutching at him as though she wasn’t ready to lose him, like she hadn’t placed the stake there herself. A long sharp finger came up, giving a soft wag as he spoke “Lucy Westenra, as long as I live in your memory, I will continue to haunt you for the rest of your Octobers.” he snarled at her one final time. Two people he’d accepted into his life, both betrayed him.

The tornado like purgatory returned once more, and Dracula found himself staring at it’s bleak grey walls. “You’re dying, Count Dracula. At long last. This is the end of the line.” Agatha called out once more. Dracula looked paler than usual, and if anything, absolutely petrified by the idea. “The monster that once was, no one to love him, crushed by those he thought loved him, and murdered by his finest experiment. His last experiment.” She corrected. “A foul stinking beast, gone. A final bow. How does that feel?” All this time he’d managed to avoid death, escaping it’s every sharp claw, and now it had been taken from him, just as he were rising the ranks. The sounds of his victims from five centuries seemed to wail together, rising and roaring at him in their anger. How dare he be upset that he time came before he wanted. Hands threw over his ears to try and drain them out but it was no use. The Count dropped them to his thighs, bursting into tears once again, completely defeated & exhausted. “I have blood on my hands that will never come clean.” he wailed “I’m sorry! Agatha,” he closed the gap between them “I don’t know what to do, how could I have let that man get into my head! Agatha Van Helsing, please help me, please let me repent.” he begged, clutching onto the bottom of her habit, willing her to help him in anyway that she could. Within the commotion, a door appeared between them, slowly opening to reveal a bright white light, and within it, his home. Wallachia. The sound of his Mother & Sister laughing within the kitchen of his childhood home. The smell of snow, stew, and wood burning swirled his purgatory. He looked at it in complete bafflement, bewildered more like. Was this... his heaven? His wide eyes & slack jaw looked back to Agatha, who was looking beyond the door herself & gave a short laugh “Hmm! That seems like a nice place to spend eternity.” she bounced her shoulders in delight at the sight. “Why? After all this time, after all these people I’d killed, slaughtered, and tortured?” “You have to remember, Count Dracula, this is life, everybody dies here. But not only that-                                                                                -The devil himself was an angel in the beginning.                                                                         It’s time for you to go home.”

[gaslightgallows]

Okay, I have to: 33. “Tear off the mask. Your face is glorious.” for ineffable husbands

(Read at AO3)

It was in Egypt that he encountered Crawly again. The floodwas millennia in the past and the return of Prince Moses from his desert exilewas still several years in the future (not that Aziraphale could foretell thefuture, but the schedule Head Office had provided him had been very detailed),and he found the demon in a tavern in Thebes, looking rather miserable.

But the yellow eyes lit up at the sight of a familiar face.“Buy you a drink?”

“Oh, thanks awfully,” said Aziraphale, beforecommon sense could assert itself, and gladly drank the wine the serving girlbrought him. “It’s so dreadfully dry and sandy in this country at thistime of year, it makes one so very thirsty.”

“Nngh,” Crawly agreed. “And it’s about theget more dreadful.”

Aziraphale frowned. “Oh?”

“Mhmm. I’m here to oversee a demonic plague of somesort. Something new from R&D. Beastly thing. Fevers, boils, pustulentsores…”

“You don’t seem happy about it. I thought your lot wentin for suffering.”

“We do… as a rule.” Crawly sighed and reachedfor the pitcher. “I don’t think I’m quite cut out for the plague-spreaderrole, though.”

“No… no, from what I’ve seen of you, on the whole,you don’t seem to be a very good demon.”

“Thank you – oh, wait, you didn’t mean that as acompliment.” Crawly’s face fell. “I think I do a decent job.”

“You do! I didn’t meant to imply – I mean, you don’tever seem to enjoy…” Aziraphale made anawkward gesture. “Demon-ing.”

“Oh, sometimes I do. When it’s just winding humans upand letting them go, that’s fun. They’ve got much better imaginations that Helldoes – I take notes and send all sorts of memos downstairs with suggestions,and then I get commendations for them. And you can’t tell me that taking creditfor someone else’s work isn’t evil.”

“It certainly is,” said Aziraphale, wanting tohumour him.

“But indiscriminate mayhem and agony and death… well,I need to be in a proper mood for that. And it wouldn’t involve kids.”

Aziraphale drank his wine thoughtfully. “I suppose youcould always… not spread the plague.”

Crawly looked at him in surprise, and then grinned.“Trying to tempt me into good behavior, angel?”

“No, tempting is your job. I just makesuggestions.”

“And you’re suggesting that I be completelyinsubordinate.”

“Well… yes…”

Crawly leaned back precariously on his stool, smiling andeyeing Aziraphale with something that looked almost like fondness. “I’mfairly sure Hell would notice if this plague just didn’t happen. And thennothing pleasant would happen to me. But thanks forthe suggestion, all the same.”

“You don’t have to do this,” said Aziraphalequietly. “You could—”

“I could what?” The smile vanished. “Stand upto my bosses, say ‘This is wrong!’ and end up being torn limb from limb for thenext ten thousand years? No thanks. I’m not that broken up about some humans dying. In ten years, there’ll be five times as manythat died, and history won’t even remember there was a plague in the firstplace.”

“But you’ll remember. And so will I.”

Crawley leaned forward, thumping the stool softly on theclay floor of the tavern. “Listen to me, Aziraphale: I can’t be betterthan I am for your sake. I’m a demon.”

“Why would it have to be for my sake? Why couldn’t itbe for your own?”

“That sounds suspiciously like repentance. But I’ve gotnothing to repent. No ways to mend. This is who and what I am – you won’t findanything else underneath.”

“I wonder, though,” Aziraphale said, blithelyignoring Crawly’s groan. “About who still lies under that demonic mask youwear.”

“…Mask, what mask? This, uh… this is my face.”

“It’s a metaphor.”

“And what’s that when it’s at home, some kind ofinsult?”

“No, it’s a dramatic device – look, all I mean is – theangel you were, the face and form that God gave you,must still be there.” He was astonished at how hopeful he sounded, eventhough he knew that was he was saying was ridiculous. And yet… “You cantear off this mask, Crawly. Your face is still perfect.”

Crawly looked at him steadily. “God took back the facethey gave me, Aziraphale. What you see is all I’ve got left.” He rose andtossed a few coins on the table. “Thanks for the company. I’ve got torun… plague starts at sunset in three days.”

Aziraphale slumped on his stool and set to work finishingoff the rest of the jug of wine.

It wasn’t until he could see the bottom that he realizedwhat Crawly had done.

Three days after their meeting, at sunset, the demon-drivenplague struck Thebes. But it struck at a city entirely and mysteriously devoidof people.

“My orders were to infect the city of Thebes,” explained Crawly blandly, when he next encountered Aziraphale,“not the people of Thebes. S’ not my fault ifHead Office isn’t keeping track of population movements.”

“No, quite,” said Aziraphale happily.

[awakenedrp]

XEL (QUI-XOT) HAS JOINED THE STARS

THEY ARE A 22 YEAR OLD CREW THEY ARE A HUMANOID FROM THE PLANET VONAK

KNOWN TRAITS:

(+) Gritty, (+) Courageous (+) Adaptive (+) Passionate (+) Strong (–) Abrasive (–) Stubborn (–) Violent (–) Barbaric (–) Rebellious

BIO: THE UNIVERSE DEMANDS BALANCE; ARE YOU OF THE DARK, OR THE LIGHT?

Pain. Excruciating, yes. However, his physical misery was nothing to the memories, not even close. Blood dried. Wounds crust over in healing. Still the flames remained. Long after they were done with him, when agony wrapped its arms around him in a warm, welcoming, velvet blackness that finally let him have a momentary blissful respite of unconsciousness, it was then that fire came. Nothing held the flood of memories back in the dark, and the world became hollow and filled with screams again. Arid, choking smoke, magma missiles darkening the sky. His nose filled with the stench of burning Cilare flesh and the unrelenting stifling heat that rained death and destruction all across his homeworld.

Vonak…

The clan.

His family.

Gone.

He was the last of his own, he knew it as surely as he vowed he would never give them the satisfaction of his own death on their damned living mutation of a ship. Right hideous monsters they were, wearing the trappings and collective guise of a civilization. So tall they could step on him, expecting him to beg for the mercy. He never would. He glared silent expletives instead. In gratitude they really did trod upon who and what he had once been, crushing the bones in his body until it almost sounded like liquefied chamber music. They laughed as they did so at first, this skinny puny heretic not yet a man with so much raw hate in its eyes and the growls of wild animals in its throat.

The laughter stopped when several days later, he’d wiggled free of their binds. Morphing into something that was neither beast nor human in its torment. Just a biting, snarling, kicking and punching rabid fury. A sharpened living piece of their own ship laced to the mutilated mess that had once been a child’s hand with blobs of stagnant jelly. It was a small victory, but they learned then not to underestimate the “puny” heretics of this dissident galaxy ever again.

As for him, there was no room for fear so long as he was awake and alive. Overshadowing the anguish seething through his bones were the seeds of vengeance taking growth in what remained of his heart. The lonely hollowness of loss overrode anything else they could do to him, though much was done. These creatures centered on the philosophy of pain and calcified rituals of superstition. They declared themselves progeny of vile vicious Gods that glorified torment, not as a motive for action, but rather as a state of living.

He became the servant of sorts to one of their Warrior caste. Then later on slave to one of the twisted Shapers caste. They collared him so that at times the thousands of horrible ways of hurting his body and mind seemed almost a dream happening to another mindless beast. Mercy was not a word they had in their language, so he had no way to ever ask for any. Not that he would have even if he could. Paranoia, anguish and wrath became his only friends at the harsh and competitive feet of the masters. He discovered he liked it. The seething fury, the blinding suffering. No broken promises for the next breath one might take.

It gave him power. That anger, it made him stronger, bigger than any of the others trapped along with him—anger gave him a reason to close his eyes to the fires at night and then wake up the next morning to the brutality he was fed daily like mother’s milk. Fury allowed him to take the masters torture, beatings and stubbornly live on. More importantly he became a fine apprentice to their rotting walls, crude braintwisting and abominable weapons. They gave, he received, and then payed it forward en masse. Scarlet flooded in his mind and eyes in violent crimson curtains, attacking anything that moved in his wake or got in his way.

To be such a plaything, he chose to let go of “before”. Before the fires, before the screams, smoke and loss. There had been a time he’d known something different. Perhaps. He no longer thought of that time however. To even dwell on it was madness and in that a special kind of living death.

So it was with blood still in his gaze that he faced the newest master, the last one he vowed. A bastard scum captain on a rusted overloaded joke of a starship. The derelict. How fitting. A questing fool with greed glittering in his eyes, trouble at his back and mayhem tainting his soul. Not quite as bad as the beastly fanatical monsters he’d left and yet still not really what one might dare call humane either.

Using the nearly forgotten speech of the civilized worlds lost to him, he delivered words that had been burning in his belly for nearly an entire lifetime. Grunting hoarse grinding stiff sounds that pulled harshly at the air and fell like so much leaded Baskar steel poured molted and hot between them.

“Hear me. Hear me well. I’m gonna kill you, Salathiel Godkiller. Kill you dead. I vow you will be the last master to ever leash me and I will smile as your maimed carcass rots to dust at my feet…”

[sparda3g]

Attack on Titan Chapter 122 Review

Ever since the anime season this year ended, the momentum has been phenomenal. Some would believe this would not only lose it but fall off of a cliff alas jumping the shark. Fans have followed since the beginning and remain loyal to this day. After 122 chapters, I can safely say this series still got it. That itself is amazing, but what this chapter delivered is unfathomable. It didn’t just deliver the explanation we have long desired for, it rewarded us for being loyal to this very day.

It opens up with Frieda and Historia’s flashback, centering on the story of a young girl who was loved by everyone. She was called Ymir. She was deemed as “ladylike;” an inspirational figure if you may call her. As fans know, she is the founder of the Titans. They also know her loyalty is to the Royal Family alas a slave. Basically, her figure can be seen as a role model, but her background and history say otherwise. It transition to Ymir’s backstory and from there, the truth is far colder than I can imagine.

It’s heartbreaking, disturbing, and probably the darkest of the series, and that says a lot. As the chapter’s title implies, it takes place 2,000 years ago. Ymir was only a child; a slave who worked hard in the midst of agonizing environment. Throughout the backstory, she never speak a word, but her expression tells tons. This is Isayama’s finest artwork delivery. The amount of effort put in is astonishing, and it only gets better.

The king wanted the culprit who set the pigs free and all the slaves pointed at her. We don’t know if she was even the culprit, but the painted image of everyone backstabbing her for the “greater good” is hard-hitting. She must take the fall and so, she accepted it. That’s purely corrupted and disheartening. Blame a child for your foolish act. But it didn’t matter; the king took it and free her to the forest, where she will be running from death by her own people.

I like to point out how disturbing it is to use the phrase, “You are free,” in a very cruel manner. It makes me believe the ending page of the series is about her. It’s still a speculation, but the chance has increased. Her suffering aches me and the flashback just started, let alone her character. She found the giant tree and entered inside for shelter. But instead, she fell down to the river with a supernatural object that resembles a spinal cord swimming towards her. They fused without a dance and thus, a titan is born. What a great sequence.

I love how it plays off as a phenomenal event and rightfully so. It’s the beginning of everything. It has to be treated as the second coming or the Holy Grail. It’s interesting to see a supernatural element in this series. Granted, a lightning strike, changing into a giant form, and Shifters wielding a special power are supernatural, but this is the origin, before titan became a thing. It has to start somewhere, so this is acceptable. I strongly doubt we will see more of supernatural entity like aliens. This is more of mythology use, the Tree of Life if you may, and Isayama is no stranger.

One would think Ymir’s life would turnaround for the better with her newfound ability. It did not; amazingly, it’s much worse. The King paid much “respect” towards her, thanks to her titan power. By that logic, this means she is “rewarded” to be his wife. The sad part is, earlier in the chapter, she witnessed a wedding that was presented as a blissful moment for the two. She’s no longer a slave to do labor work; she’s a slave to do everything. She’s rewarded a marriage and yet, she’s left cold and depressed. It’s disheartening to say the least.

She does all the works the King command. From being sent to destroy Marleyans to bearing the children for weaponized reason, she’s a mess. Every moment should be filled with happiness, yet not once you see her happy. Not even a baby birth made her pleasant; instead, saddened and broken. Year after year of the same procedure, her life was long gone. We the fans are only seeing her in pilot mode or in other words, emotionless.

What’s interesting is the moment when she was killed. You would expect her death to be glorious or end with a bang, but it wasn’t the case. One of the soldiers took out a spear from underneath the sand and threw at the King, only for Ymir to jump and take it instead. She could have recovered, knowing she was a Shifter. However, she lost the will to live, so she never did; essentially, passed away. It almost happened with Reiner back at Marley, so it makes sense for her to go out like a normal human. I love the imagery of her soul fading away with the sight of a flower. What struck me is her family watched her dead with sadness, only for the next moment to destroy the sensation and embark a really dark scene.

If you once believe the King has any soul towards her, you’ll be dead wrong. After a shock, he recovered and angrily yelled at her to get back up and work. That’s seriously messed up. He had no remorse for her death; not even seeing her once as a person. He flat out called her their slave. It only took a chapter to hate the guy so much. It gets worse as he decided to feed his children with her corpse. That’s unbelievably disturbing. I’m surprised at the raw image as well as disgusted. At least we know the walls are named after the three children; better not reveal that history. How this series not Seinen? I guess it was missing one cuss word to be qualified.

The most heartbreaking part is, even in the afterlife, Ymir is still a slave. In the King’s deathbed, his last wish was an order for his children to spread Ymir’s blood through generation after generation. Not even a touching moment for them; selfishly placed dictatorship over family. Sadly, they obeyed his last wish and through countless generations, the titans have grown.

It explained how the titans essentially break into different traits alas Shifters, including Jaw and Colossal Titan. After spreading for so long, it eventually formed a new type. It’s bizarrely insane. The King can enjoy in hell, while Ymir is forever a slave, creating countless titans. She outclassed all the suffering characters; bar none. It’s pure tragedy. She cannot be freed for 2,000 years and counting. Her life is only used as a weapon; nothing more, nothing less. The backstory ends here. The next scene, oh boy, here we go.

Eren finally reveals his true color and the sole reason to obtain her power: to end this world. Out of context, he would definitely been seen as a villain. Joker, watch out! But seriously, it’s the Rumbling and like he said at the beach, he’s going to put an end to this madness. While the request can definitely be interpreted as a villainy act, the intention is dare I say reasonable.

The idea I get is he wants to factory reset the world. The damage was done 2,000 years ago and its effect goes on to this day. Evil brought upon the titans to its existence. The irony approach to put an end is to use those colossal titans inside the wall. What stared the madness will end with madness. I don’t remember who said this quote about World War, but the third war will be the worst war of our time; the fourth one will have people use sticks and stones. It’s something like that. Basically, it means the world will restart after mass destruction, and that’s what Eren is going to unleash. Not necessarily kill his friends, but end the tyranny war.

I love the last psychological battle between the brothers. Eren wants Ymir to know she is only human; not a God nor a slave. As for Zeke, he wants to stop Eren from unleashing hell on Earth. Out of context, this sounds like Zeke is the good guy, but it’s complicated. Their choice of words to persuade Ymir are night and day. Not because of what they wished for, but what they cared for. When it’s all said and done, it’s perfectly clear which argument matters more.

The major key difference is how they approach to her. Eren may want the world to end, but he believes it’s up to her to decide. More importantly, what she truly feels. With Zeke, all value was lost when he yells at her to grant his wish because he ordered her. He believed he’s right because he carried the blood of the Royal Family; symbolically, history repeats itself or more like, the chain never ends. Eren wants to end it and apparently, so does her.

It is clear Isayama has planned this far ahead as well as improved his artwork tremendously.Thankfully so, because the delivery is powerful. Ymir’s emotion with tears is raw; I felt her agony and now, she can finally let it go. I love the fact Isayama didn’t show her eyes until now; making this moment impactful. You feel free along with her. The pain must end now. To top it all off, alongside with great artwork, it also contain the perfect circle; one that rewards the fans for supporting the work for a long time.

Eren may have a villainy idea, but his heart still contains purity. He wanted her to let go; end her misery. He knows deeply for 20,000 years, she waited for anyone to free her, and he is the guy. It finally hits me that this chapter’s title resembles to the first chapter. It was a message to Eren to save her; this time, it’s the reply she has been waiting for. Absolutely magnificent. Now I get those panels that resemble to Eren’s dream. Not to mention, the tears. It must mean he felt the pain of a poor girl. I’m convinced the ending will have Eren carrying Ymir to let her know she’s freed. I can be wrong, but I wouldn’t mind being right. Ymir makes her decision, and by God almighty, what a crazy ending.

The last couple of pages are incredible. Isayama seriously went all out on his art. Back to reality, Eren’s spine reattach his head; basically, escape death. The image is jarring in a good way. The battle is stopped with the wall crumbling down. By this point, my jaw was dropped. The scenery is intense as hell. Gabi, the one who thought stopped the mayhem, is now witnessing it in front row. The wall is gone; out comes the mass of Colossal Titans. Translation: we’re in the endgame now.

What else can I say? Probably a lot more. The bottom line is, this chapter was outstanding. It delivered a really dark, cruel, and depressing backstory of Ymir that answered many questions and gave us reasons to feel awful for her, which ultimately led to the defining moment. When it comes down to it, the stories we heard from Eldians and Marleyans were true and false. Eren and Zeke’s final debate was mesmerizing. The full circle twist was so rewarding. The visual is among the best Isayama has delivered; perhaps the best. The atmosphere, the angle, the expression; everything is top quality. The ending got me hyped beyond the maximum level. This is it. It’s not the end of the world, but you can see it from here…

[chaoticnootrals]

Star Crossed

Pairing: Kylo Ren/Ben Solo x Reader 

A/N: I’m contemplating whether or not to make this a series, like, I have other chapters and all that so tell me if you like it! If you do, below is the summary for the possible series hehehe

Summary: In Ben’s search to become someone noble, he found his light within young Jedi pupil, Y/N, both falling for the other immediately. The pair sharing a connection far more meaningful than any alliance, coupling or marriage could ever bring thanks to the force. Yet, the pair are separated the night Luke unintentionally awakens the dark side within his nephew, ending in both thinking that the other had passed. This causes them to lead destructive lives for opposite sides of the intergalactic war where the two are bound by destiny to cross paths again. Star Crossed lovers at their finest.

Word count: 2099

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There are tears streaming down his face, a luxury of expression he hadn’t allowed himself to relish in for what seemed like eons gone by. The emotions running through him were blinding, so many years spent in the shrouded mask of the dark side, consumed by his own despair and loss, yet he was finally set free. All because of you.

“Y/N,” His voice quivered out your name, “Is it really you?”

“It’s me Ben, it’s really me.” You choked through strained vocal chords, smiling with a genuine warmth, no longer forced by obligation.

For years you had both suffered through the utter bitterness and anguish that came with the pain of a shattered heart. An agony that could only be the result of the loss of one’s soulmate, it festered and ate at your reality, blinding the two of you to any kind of resolution. There was no moving on for you, nor for Ben Solo himself. With the idea ingrained in his mind by Snoke that he had lost you to the cold clutches of death’s hold,  the Dark side consumed him and left nothing but the infamous Jedi killer, Kylo Ren in it’s wake. As for you, waking from a harrowingly long coma endured from the night you had lost your Ben Solo, you had become a brutal yet essential assassin for the resistance, no longer the sweet and loving Jedi pupil you had once known yourself to be. That nigh Ben Solo melted away into Kylo Ren and moulded you into the ruthless nightmare of the resistance had been intentionally blurred from both lover’s minds, all until now.

“Ben, no!” The structure collapsed and from the rubble he arose, having given into the beckoning call of the dark side that haunted him. He didn’t feel anger, nor did he feel sadness, it was the betrayal that pumped from an already damaged heart that clouded Ben’s mind, but more than anything Ben was truly scarred by the utter fear of what he had just experienced. His flesh and blood, his master, the one he had looked up to to heal the darkness he felt brewing within him, even he had lost faith in Ben, going as far as to be rid of him. Now Ben was alone, left to ponder and fear what he had done, what he could become, yet his mind only wandered to thoughts of you; his saving grace, his sunshine.

Just like magic there you were, running toward him, calling his name, trying to grip him back to reality. A lighthouse in the black sea that threatened to drown him. You didn’t know what had happened, frankly you couldn’t care less, but you could feel it as you slept, a disturbance that beckoned  you out of your slumber and called out for your Ben. Even before you had officially met, you felt the connection between yourself and Ben Solo. Ever since then you had been an inseparable pair, and from then both you and the young legacy had felt an obligation to protect one another, no matter what. This night was no different.

“Ben!” You called, ignoring the chaos that surrounded him, more concerned for the well being of your love.

Your heart raced and with heavy lungs and shaking limbs you made it to a fragile Ben standing amongst the carnage of his hut, lightsaber drawn and tear welled eyes that hurt to look upon. The sight stung to witness, with each steady blink and observation an ache in your heart tinged. Your unsteady hands extended up to cup Ben’s debris sooted cheeks. He stared panicked into the distance, you could see the pain and trauma that stained his vision as he examined the chaos.

“Y’Y/N…” He muttered quietly. “Luke..He-he tried to-“

“Ben, it’s okay. Look at me, please. Tell me what happened?” For Ben’s sake you tried to stay calm, but you wavered speech only left you with transparency.

“He was going to kill me.” Ben’s eyes finally met yours, a connection so intense with sheer distress you could feel it in your stomach, twisting in knots and lurking it’s way throughout your body.

Ben then fell to his knees, his arms snaking around you as he buried his face against your body, only hoping that this was all a twisted nightmare. Hoping that if he held you tight enough, close enough that it would all go away, yet here he stayed. Surrounded by what he could only describe as the inevitable, he was becoming what most claimed he would, all except you.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Oh, Ben.” You whispered, hugging him even closer.

As if seeing the love of your life pained and broken wasn’t enough to break your heart, the force that connected you enhanced everything. Every memory, every emotion, every painful shake, you felt it all and it snapped your heart in two.

“It’s okay, my love. I promise you-“ You said assuringly, placing a long loving kiss to Ben��s matted jet black locks.

“Get away from him, Y/N!” A voice demanded from behind you.

As you protectively turned towards them, trying to shield Ben’s much larger frame with your own. Facing them, you were confronted by your Jedi cohort, all looking at the two of you with such animosity that you could practically feel it cutting through you with a simple glare. Each pupil was armed with a saber or blaster in hand. It was a Jedi’s duty to forgo anger, to avoid the violent situations of battle, yet they weren’t Jedi, they were scared children, but so were you; both of you. As frightened as you might have been, faced against hopeless odds, you swore to protect Ben’s innocence at whatever cost.

“Stay back!” You barked a warning to the oncoming swarm.

With an outstretched hand, the other gripping Ben’s own, pieces of debris levitated before you acting as a shielding wall. It was exhausting to use the force in the state you were in, and if you were honest the wall wouldn’t do much in your defences, but protection wasn’t the point. Very few of your peers were able to use the force to the extent both you and Ben could, and the levitation of broken down pieces around you was a display to show that you were not a pair to be trifled with.

“It’s not safe, Y/N” A female voice urged you.

“He’s a monster!” Another shouted.

“He killed our master, Luke Skywalker!” Yet another argued.

And finally, “He’s only using you!”

Ben had heard it all. Disgrace, monster, pathetic, disappointment, there was nothing he was not familiar with and he refused to let them get to him, or at least show that they did, but to be accused of using you was something Ben couldn’t allow. How dare they, he thought. How dare they accuse him of using you, he would never. Ben was already a damaged soul, with the absences of both parents as a child came the ever lingering feeling of abandonment. With he heavy expectations and legacy that hung above his head came the crushing pressures that tore him down. With the forever yearning to become something other than what was expected of him came the idea of being a Jedi would fix the torment within him, but that night; that night was the last straw.

The dark side had almost taken over and Ben wasn’t doing much to deny it anymore. As he rose from his knelt position he could see a sea of blasters all pointed in his direction, some even aimed at you and it made his blood boil. He no longer felt fear, no longer regret, instead replaced by pure rage. Right and wrong had no place in Ben’s morality, all he could see, all he could feel was your energy in which he was willing to protect at all costs. You could feel the shift in his energy turn cold, but not fast enough to realise what was happening. Ben’s mind was clouded and as if upon instinct his lightsaber had been drawn with malicious intent.

What happened next was a blur in your memory, but in Ben’s it was all too vivid of a sight. It happened so fast. With his saver drawn and lifted, your concern peaked as you could sense his malevolent intent. You turned towards him, the force wall you created dropping to the earth in the process, leaving the two of you defenceless.

“Ben, no!-“ And with that you felt it. Ben was feared and with that fear elicited a fear induced reaction, without strategy or thought. Clear on your back, three blaster shots had landed. Your breath hitch, the world falling silent and darkness consuming your vision your body fell limp into Ben’s arms.

You were unsure of what had happened. You felt as though you were floating, alone and cold in a void. Sounds of chaos attempting to break through, yet only sounding in muffled spurs and echoes.

“Is this it for me?”

“What happened?”

“Where is Ben?”

“Please, I want Ben…”

“Y/N, please. Open your eyes, my love”

In the void Ben’s voice resonated with you. The only voice you had wanted to hear had been the one to pull you back to life, but only slightly. You were weak, and there was nothing you or Ben could do to fix it.

Your eyes opened softly, as if the mayhem that surrounded you didn’t exist. The features on your face were gentle and soft, free from any worry that have previously washed over them. You’d heard that death was peaceful, in some way that’s how you knew this was it; the end of your legacy. As  much as you wanted to fight back, to deny this fate as thoughts of everything you had wished to do with your life, your body wouldn’t allow it. You were draining quickly, you could no longer reject it, so rather than having your last moments in sadness or mind raced back to Ben.

“Ben?” You whispered weakly.

You opened your eyes to be met with the beauty spotted features of your lover’s.

“It’s me, Sunshine.” Ben replied, his voice shaken and weary.

You were cradled in his arms, a burning sensation surging down your back as quickly as blood rushed in your veins. You exhaustedly turned your head to examine your surroundings, and through blurry eyes you saw it. The Jedi campus had been engulfed by flames, buildings and structures crumbling into nothing with no sign of your Jedi cohort besides the limp moulds of people scattered around the area, yet you were too drained to realise what had happened to them. The ground around had cracked, all except the surface beneath you and you knew it had been Ben’s doing.

Everything had collapsed into anarchy, but neither you nor Ben could care.

“Ben,” you laughed with a smiled, eyes welled with tears, “My beautiful, Ben.”

“I’m here, my love. I’m here.”

“What happened?”

“They hurt you, my dear.” He said weakly. “I’m so sorry I let you down, I should’ve stopped it-“

“You could never let me down, Ben.” You interrupted sweetly.

You could see the pain that masked Ben’s face, and with little strength you had left you could feel his heart break through you connection. His heart was in instability, ‘how could he let this happen?’ you could hear his thoughts echo in your mind.  “It’s okay, there’s nothing you could’ve done.”

You knew it was coming. You both knew. You could feel your grip on reality slipping through your fingers, melting away like frost in the morning sun.

One last time, you cupped Ben’s cheek in your hand, stroking away the tears that had fallen from the earthy eyes that stole your heart, “You have a heart of gold, my love. Never forget that.”

You gently tugged your fingers on Ben’s cheek, pulling him down for one last loving embrace. Ben leant down and placed a loving chaste kiss upon your lips, taking your breathe away as he had done so many times.

“You will always be the love of my life, Sunshine.” He choked through broken words.

You smiled. “As will you, Starlight.”

“I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you, Ben.”

With one last breath you felt cold and limp. Unable to move, unable to feel and unable to see. Life had finally left you, and you felt peaceful and contempt with this being your end. Yet, fate is always one to work in mysterious ways, and to that you were no exception.

—END—

[wltzing]

“ What happened to us? “ 👀

sentence  starters .    accepting .    @osterreiich .

         he  is  refusing  to  offer  his  beloved  a  single  glance .    amber  hues  pour  over  the  letter  before  him ,  a  work  in  progress  with  slovenly  penmanship  across  the  paper .    he  is  growing  accustomed  to  writing  with  the  left  hand    —    the  soviet  bombing  of  floridsdorf  had  all  but  crippled  his  right .    only  now ,  in  the  aftermath  of  chaos  and  destruction ,  years  following  his  resurrection ,  do  the  muscles  of  his  once - dominant  appendage  respond  to  the  effort  of  movement .

when  he  laid  beneath  rubble ,  he  had  been  alone .    when  he  arose  amongst  a  decimated  home ,  his  city ,  he  was  just  the  same .    in  death ,  he  was  in  the  company  of  only  enemies .    and  floating  within  the  vast  space  of  unknown  origins ,  somewhere  between  mortal  plains  and  fólkvangr ,  he  was  beside  himself  and  himself  alone .

❛    what  do  you  take  me  for ?    a  fool ?    you  abandoned  me ,  roderich .    you  abandoned  your  people ,  your  land .    ❜       throat  is  taut ,  evidence  of  the  stress  he  is  enduring .    when  roderich’s  mouth  gapes  to  respond ,  franz  interrupts .       ❛    i  do  not  want  to  hear  your  excuses .    what  is  your  definition  of  us ?    austria ,  or  you  and  i ?    —    rhetorical ,  so  keep  your  damned  mouth  shut  and  allow  me  to  speak .    ❜

there  is  no  doubt  in  this  cluttered ,  unforgiving  mind  of  his ,  that  he  will  never  truly  pardon  johan  of  his  crimes ,  precipitous  egotism  and  betrayal .    the  actions  of  italy  and  japan  hold  fewer  grievances .    he  loved  johan  as  he  loves  roderich ,  bonded  creatures  that  he  was  led  to  believe  cared  for  him  despite  borderlines  and  political  mayhem ,  but  this  was  different .    and  while  the  former  had  lent  a  significant  hand  in  this  bedlam ,  franz  cannot  distract  himself  from  the  fact  that  roderich’s  deception  was  of  equal  severity .    he  fled ,  left  him  to  support  the  entirety  of  his  city  ‘pon  an  unstable  shoulder .    digits  crumple  the  letter ,  knowing  the  words  that  are  etched  would  be  more  easily  digestible  coming  from  his  lips .

❛    i  do  not  know  what  happened  to  austria  after  the  war .    it  is  stable ,  or  else  you  and  i  would  not  be  standing  here .    we  are  independent  again ,  no  thanks  to  you .    or  me ,  for  that  matter .    i  was  dead  during  the  soviet  occupation  of  vienna .   ��did  you  know  that ?    i  cannot  image  how  you  would ,  because  you  left  me .    ❜

the  paper  is  tossed  onto  the  floor  as  his  gaze  withdraws  from  it .    he  stares  into  the  eyes  of  one  he  once  trusted ,  unwavering  and  wholeheartedly .    his  lower  lip  quivers ,  but  there  are  no  tears  threatening  to  fall .    his  knees  might  be  trembling ,  but  his  voice  is  formidable .

❛    you  will  never  be  able  to  imagine  the  sheer  agony  of  what  i  endured ,  my  love .    the  scars  beneath  my  clothes  bear  evidence  to  my  suffering  and  that  of  our  people .    william  took  an  arm ,  tiphaine  another .    thomas  took  a  leg ,  and  the  other  went  to  ekaterina .    ❜

his  right  hand ,  riddled  with  deep  markings  from  third - degree  burns ,  reaches  to  drag  down  the  collar  of  a  cashmere  turtleneck  sweater .    a  thick  scar  around  his  throat  is  sheepishly  shown .

❛    .  .  .    she  took  my  head ,  too ,    ❜       he  chokes .

only  now  does  it  occur  to  him  that  he  had  yet  to  speak  of  this  experience .    with  anyone .    the  realization  makes  his  blood  run  cold  and  eyes  begin  to  glisten .

❛    the  last  thing  i  remember  from  that  day  was  her  smile .    that ,  and  the  question  of  where  you  were .    where  heidi  was .    i  could  not  bear  the  thought  of  you  meeting  the  same  fate .    and  i  spent  ten  fucking  years  wandering  in  some  colorless  state  of  limbo ,  whatever  purgatory  our  kind  is  sent  to  after  death ,  wondering  if  you  were  safe .    oh ,  and  you  were !    i  am  the  one  who  had  pay  for  the  foolishness  of  these  pitiful  mortals !    ❜

hand  retracts ,  only  to  hastily  cling  onto  a  nearby  crystalline  wine  glass  which  is  knocked  from  his  desk .    it  shatters  onto  the  floor ,  liquid  dyeing  the  crushed  letter  a  deep  shade  of  pink .    a  color  matching  the  blush  of  his  cheeks ,  flush  with  a  decade’s  frustration  and  horrors .    whatever  comes  from  roderich’s  mouth ,  it  does  not  register .    franz  sobs  freely  now .

❛    i  do  not  want  an  apology .    i  do  not  even  want  an  explanation .    i  want  you  to  leave ,  go  wherever  you  ran  to  before  and  never  come  back .  .  .    not  to  me .    because  you  do  not  love  me ,  lieblingsmensch ,    ❜       he  whispers .       ❛    you  can  save  your  breath .    do  you  not  think  i  have  been  tortured  enough ?    ❜

[the-moon-dust-writings]

Chapter 3 - Ripped

Hi Pals!! This is Chapter 3 of a zombie series named Ripped.

Summary of Series: Follow Neveah on her journey to find her brother and father in a world filled with the dead. Quick-thinking, fast decisions and mayhem is just the beginning.

Summary of Chapter: Neveah found new friends.

Trigger Warnings: Blood, Swearing, Death.

Words: 1090

Previous Chapter

Ripped Official Blog - Chapter and Content on here

Wattpad

I shake my head. I cannot believe my eyes. If I just saw, what I think I just saw, I must have died and ascended to heaven because this is the coolest shit I have ever seen. I quickly put the truck into park before pulling out the keys and putting them in my jacket pocket. I reach over into the glove compartment, pull out a hand-gun, take the safety off and put it into my holster. I peak through the window and the puffballs are all huddled together. They don’t seem to be going anywhere fast. I can’t help but smile.  

I take my yellow crowbar out from under the seat before stepping out of Reg. I look both ways and listen in. No pounding of footsteps nor snarls rip through the silence of the abandoned farmer fields.

I softly close the door as I slowly approach the small golden puffballs. Their mews grow stronger and stronger with each step I take. Once I get close enough, three sets of golden eyes stare up at me. Puffy fur on their back stands tall like a porcupine’s quills. Their fur is spotted with black dots placed sporadically. Two black thin lines from their tear ducts stream down to their jaw that highlights their feline features. This is the best day of my existence. They don’t look threaten by my presence, just very curious. I giggle as I bend down and put out my hand, “Holy fuck! Fuckin’ cheetahs!” One of them stumbles over to me, obviously not in full control of his limbs yet. I smile and wait for him to come over.

Horrific snarling comes from within the long blades of grass of the overgrown fields. I pull back as does the friendly cub, he goes back to his siblings. I swiftly turn around and raise my gun. A stumbling corpse emerges from the depths of the greenery. Its bulging wild eyes twitch in rage as fresh blood drips down its gray waxy skin. Flies swarm around it as if it was an all you can eat buffet. Orange fungus that fades to yellow to green laces its neck. It sways back and forth just like the corpse. Its ripped jean overalls and torn white blood-stained shirt looks as if they must have been a farmer before they got bitten. I squint my eyes, it’s covered in golden fur. Realization hits me. Oh, oh no. Did this poor excuse of a corpse just murder their mother?

The corpse staggers up the side of the ditch and onto the highway towards me. I take my crowbar and grip it firmly. It is only one. I don’t need to use my gun for this. Besides, it looks like a Wanderer anyway, the only thing they do is stumble around and grab anything worth eating. They even eat rocks which makes no sense to me. A gun shot here would attract the Sprinters, if there are any hiding. If there are, there would be more than I would know what to do with. The corpse’s lips turn sharply into a smile before it steadies itself and lunges at me at full speed.

I whip out my hand gun and pull the trigger. A bullet goes straight between its eyes and out through the back of their skull. It freezes in mid-motion before it collapse to the highway.

My heart begins to pound against my chest, did that Sprinter just trick me into thinking it was a Wanderer? What the fuck. What the fuck? What the hell is this bullshit? They’re evolving?

A growl comes from the overgrown greenery. I slowly go over with my raised gun, looking for any sudden movements. I get close enough and it’s an adult cheetah. Its stomach has been ripped open as blood pools all around the body. The agony of its cries shatters my heart like glass shards scattered in a dark empty room. I go over to the suffering animal; bite marks are sporadically all over her. Saliva from the undead has caused patches of fur to come flaking off. She continues to cry.

The edges of my mouth turn towards the ground. I put my hand on her head and her eyes slowly begin to close, she twitches in pain. “I’ll take care of your cubs. I promise.” Her golden eyes look up at me before they go blank and her body lies still on the grass. Beside her a beautiful yellow flower blossoms, I pull it from the ground before placing it on her head.

My heart drops deep into the abyss of my stomach. She’s gone. I look back at the puffballs and they have left their spot on the highway to come to the edge of the road. They look down at me with somber eyes and then their mother’s corpse.

Within the depths of the farmers field I hear the rustle of grass. Sweat begins to bead on my forehead as numerous worst-case scenarios flash before my eyes. I quickly run towards Reg. I pull open the tail gate and snatch out a dead rabbit I couldn’t bring myself to cook yesterday. The three cubs come towards me wagging their tails.

I coax them into the truck on the passengers’ side, lock the door behind them before I get into my side. They all feast on the rabbit as I lock my door. I start up Reg, pulling out of the ditch and back onto the highway. In my rear-view mirror I see a couple of Sprinters chasing after us. My heart beats with the intensity of a hundred drums.

I press on the gas and we are suddenly going 100 miles per hour and none of them are in my rear-view mirror anymore.

I look over at the three cubs on my passenger side, they don’t like any older than two months. I loved the nature channel before the world descended into chaos. I know they eat meat once they turn six weeks, so it’s good that their mother got them this far along, otherwise I wouldn’t have known what to do. Cheetahs also happen to be my favorite animal, I love them so much I did a whole research project on them when I was in third grade.

I let out a breath as I continue down the never ending straight highway, just a few more hours of driving, and I’ll find a place to stay for the night and hopefully keep these cubs safe.