#and error. that's. that's the other half that's the rest of your soul that the guy you spent ages practicing speaches and monologes to talk

[sunnydayaoe]

Wahh. thinking about geno and sans, and. error and sans' relationship. specifically the classic ajesent sans in geno's timeline.

[yandere-daydreams]

tw - sex doll au, implied dub/con, unhealthy relationships, possessive behavior, and generally depraved behavior.

You're starting to wonder if you should've gotten a different pair.

You knew what you were getting into when you decided that, of all the androids in Teyvat's stock, you were going to be one of the few brave souls that dared to put two members of the Akademiya Collection that weren't Tighnari and Cyno under the same roof. The salesperson had cringed as you made your selection, your more tech-savvy friends pursed their lips and asked if that was really for the best, and you couldn't mention your specific preferences on any public message board without being berated off the platform entirely. You didn't care, thought. The heart wants what it wants, and apparently, your heart wanted two burnt-out post-grads to rail you into next week.

That's what you told yourself until you got Alhaitham and Kaveh home, at least.

The bickering, you were prepared for. You weren't surprised by the constant passive-aggression, the subtle pokes at Alhaitham's arrogance and Kaveh's bleeding heart, and you managed to stomach it the first time your dreams of a multi-major threesome were dashed because Kaveh mentioned some ancient philosophical principle and Alhaitham couldn't resist the opportunity to correct his wording and you were left bouncing yourself on Alhaitham's cock while he dispassionately flipped through a textbook you haven't opened since you were an under-grad. Minor hiccups, nothing you couldn't forget about when Kaveh buried his face between your thighs or Alhaitham split you open on his fingers while reading your latest research paper aloud, denying you an orgasm for every grammatical error. That part, you wouldn't trade for the world.

The jealousy, though - you could live without that. You've heard that there's supposed to be fail-safes for this kind of thing, measures the developers take to make sure any companion droids can co-exist without tearing each other apart, but their mutual distaste seems strong enough to overwhelm whatever barriers their creators put in place. You've lost count of the number of times there's been a false-alarm in some other part of your apartment while you're on your knees at Alhaitham's feet, how many times Alhaitham's flawless hardware has suddenly 'malfunctioned' while Kaveh has your ankles propped on his shoulders.

Not getting laid, you can deal with, but it's a little hard to be so forgiving when Kaveh spends the better half a day pouting because you took Alhaitham to work and left him at home, when Alhaitham deletes your registered commands from his memory bank because you had the nerve to take Kaveh to a farmer's market that that he'd rather die than step foot in. You've tried to be fair, to divide your time evenly, but they're not happy with that, either. Neither of them would ever say it out loud, but it's clear enough that they both want to be the center of your attention. It'd be cute, if they weren't so spiteful.

The only thing worse than their jealousy is when they put aside their spitefulness, their petty arguments, and decide to agree on the only thing they can ever agree on: that their beloved 'master' should be the one to make up for all those hours of neglect. It's a little like your fantasies, but not quite; your chest pressed against Alhaitham's Kaveh's chin resting on your shoulder, the former inside of you while the latter whispers sweet-nothings against the curve of your throat. It's more violent than anything you ever would've expected from two men so scholarly, more aggressive - teeth buried in your skin, bruises in the shape of their palm painted across your thighs, fingers forcing their way past your lips whenever you so much as consider using your safe-word. You're left strung-out for hours after they're done with you, and Kaveh's free to press himself against your side while Alhaitham tries to pass himself off as the caretaker he so clearly isn't. It's the only time they don't waste their breath on bickering. It's the only time they ever get along.

It's the only time you don't have the strength to focus on anything but your two precious, precious androids.

[jazeswhbhaven]

💜Only 4 Me, Levi: Mass Birthday Post💜

💜Mini Playlist💜

Obsession- Innerpartysystem Change- Deftones People Error- the GazettE Filth in the Beauty- the GazettE I'm That Girl- Beyonce All Mine- Kali Uchis

💜Cake Flavor Headcanon💜

White Chocolate Raspberry bundt cake, drizzled with sweet cream and Raspberry compote

💜How the Nobles Celebrate Their King's Birthday💜

Foras: He mostly tries to convince Glas and Barbatos to leave Leviathan alone so he can serve him by himself all day. After being turned down for the third time with the span of five minutes, he's opted to hang himself for him instead.

Barbatos: He wanted to present a perfect rosebush he worked on growing in the shape of Leviathan. But it was too distracting so Levi destroyed it and Barb was to hang for thinking he could replicate Levi's beauty with plants.

Glasyalabolas: He intentionally seeks out MC, in attempts to spend alot of time with them in order to agitate his Majesty. He's even taken off the top half of his uniform to show off his form and let MC put their hand through his chest...which didn't last long because Leviathan immediately dragged him back to the palace by his rope to hang.

Orias: Oh the usual, he tried to get his soul...steal his life force, pulled all the pranks he could because he assumed he'd be distracted by his birthday and MC. He even put poison in a cupcake and tricked MC into delivering it. Ofc Levi suspected it and every plan failed. Up he goes!

Overall: None of these nobles work together, too jealous of one another and wanting to one up on who's praising Levi the most. Sadly, it's even certain that Levi would hate it more if his nobles planned something together for him anyway. How dare they all work together to waste time? Well it is for him. But still, can't have idle hands when there's things in Hades to take care of.

💜How Levi Celebrates with MC💜

MC does what their told and stays exactly where they were standing with their phone in hand. Suddenly, there's a presence behind their back...

MC: Oh! Levi, you showed up...

Leviathan: Why wouldn't I? I told you I was coming...

MC: Right. Um, So?

Leviathan: First, look at my face. What do you see?

MC: Nothing in particular...just your face?

Leviathan: No. Tell me what you see.

MC: Just a pretty face looking at me? Is that what you wanted to hear?

Leviathan: *scoffs* Next, focus on my horns.

MC: Levi...

Leviathan: Is there a problem? Or are you just too stupid to pay attention?

MC: No! Hey. I get it you're better than the others...you don't have to show....

Leviathan grabs their arm and starts dragging them back to his room

Leviathan: It seems you need to focus in a more private setting. Being in the middle of this hallway has you thinking about other men again.

MC: ????? But I-

Leviathan: I swear if I could tie you up and throw you in my coffin for the rest of your life I would. At least there you would have nothing to think about.

MC: *thinks to themselves* Guess this is best I'll get for celebrating his birthday.

Leviathan: See? You're doing it right now aren't you? Unbelievable. Right in front of me...*grumbles and drags them faster*

💜Levi and Beel: The Worst Besties Ever💜

Beelzebub once tried to throw Leviathan a surprise birthday party in Aybssos by luring him there with false pretenses that it was important. The amount of devils yelling "surprise" pissed of Leviathan so much he chased around Beel for three days trying to kill him for doing this. After the three days, he went back home to find a pile of gifts waiting for him that magically appeared from Beel. He told Foras to burn every single one, but changed his mind and took them anyway. He still has the gifts in his room in a glass case that he covers with a blanket so others can't see it. He uncovers it once in a while to dust it and look over everything.

nsfw incoming....

💜He doesn't normally celebration his birthday so he skips the formalities

💜A present? Why did you waste so much time picking something when he hasn't told you what he liked? Oh wait...he does like it...

💜The gift is easily forgotten because he suspected you asked someone else about what he likes, which means you're speaking to other devils again

💜As your clothes strip, he asks who was it that told you what he liked? Was it that annoying fly? That beast from Tartaros? The walking disaster that defends Gehenna?

💜It doesn't matter who you were asking, you're here now sprawled on his bed with your legs folded close to your chest so he can thrust so deep you won't remember anything but his cock in your hole

💜He leans in for you so you have a good reach for his neck, make sure you choke him with vigor or he'll stop thrusting in that good spot that's making your eyes roll

💜Repeat his name over and over during, say it perfectly, same tempo, don't waver...he wants to know all you're thinking about is him.

💜How many hours have passed? Does it matter to you that much? Of course not. His mission has succeeded and you're thinking about nothing except of how your brain is mush, every orifice on your body has been filled with cum, and marks have been left in obvious places for others to see.

💜Your his. his. h i s. You belong to Leviathan. No matter if it's his birthday or any other day.

💜Happy Birthday to the Most Envious and Petty King, Leviathan 11/01💜

[808airsoftbros]

The Half Engine (Blackpink)

Author: Just a teaser hint for my upcoming Halloween oneshot. If you want to see more of my stories check out my Masterlist

The Original Half Engine story was by: [thebogieboy] (His Youtube) Genre: Crossover/Horror

~

Author's POV

It was a ordinary day on the island of Sodor, the engines had been working hard all day on their branch lines delivering passengers and goods across the island.

They were all looking forward to a goodnights long rest at the sheds, everyone that was except for James.

"How long are we going to be kept waiting? At this rate, will be home by nightfall," James sighed as he was waiting at the station.

"Have no fear, James, I'm confident will be back home in no time!" His driver assured but that didn't help ease his mind one bit as he had already seen the sun about to set down soon.

But it didn't help the fact that the weather forecast that there will fog this evening meaning their visibility is limited and travelling down the tracks will be dangerous.

Thankfully for James, he didn't have to wait much longer as his last passengers boarded the coaches.

James blew his whistle as he puffed out of the station to the next, the trip lasted about a couple hours and by the time he shunted the coaches into the yard, it was dark and foggy as predicted.

Despite Jame's headlamp shining brightly, he could hardly see a thing ahead of him so he had to travel down the line cautiously to prevent him from hitting anything.

Despite the Driver and Fireman being experienced navigators, they were eventually lost in the fog, and they didn't know they travelled down into a abandoned siding on the line.

"Stupid fog... I can't see a thing..." James muttered as he puffed down the line.

"Yeah, can't see anything in the distance either, no signs, nothing I'm afraid..." His driver replied and sighed.

"In that case, why don't we just get rid of these unused..." James paused as he saw something that caused his boiler and firebox to freeze.

James applied the brakes slowly putting him into a halt, the fireman and driver were confused and asked what he had stopped for.

However, James couldn't mutter a word out of his mouth as he shook nervously and the Driver got out of the cab to see what was wrong and they gasped as they caught the sight of a scrap engine.

"W-what the bloody hell?! What kind of sick person would scrap an engine like that?!" The driver exclaimed as they couldn't believe what they were seeing.

It was indeed a sorrowful sight to see the empty soul of an engine lying on the side but this was different... The engine was cut perfectly in half without error.

Half of the boiler, cab, funnel, and whistle can be seen, and they wonder how this would be possible as no skilled scrapper is capable of such a thing.

"I don't wanna know! Get me out of here! Get me out of here!" James demanded as he was too terrified to linger any longer.

The crew were quick to agree, they boarded into his cab and James reversed out of the abandon line as fast as his pistons and wheels can take him.

Back at the sheds, the engines were finally able to rest after a long day of work, Sir Topham Hatt arrived to deliver some news to the engine but they had to wait as James was absent.

Finally, James arrived back at Tidmouth sheds and the others were a bit worried and curious as to where James has been all this time as it was late in the night.

"Ah, James, so glad you can join us," Sir Topham Hatt greeted but James didn't reply as he was still too shaken from what he had seen earlier.

"Anyway, onto the point, I've come here to inform you all that we will be visited by celebrities from Korea, so I expect all of you to be on your best behavior, we do not want to give a bad impression, do we? Gordon, I'd like you to transport them from Vicarstown to Tidmouth Station, there we will begin the tour," He explained to the engines and they were quite intrigued and excited as they never had celebrities coming from across the world.

After that, Sir Topham Hatt got into his personal car and drove away from the sheds.

The engines chatted a bit about tomorrow until they eventually fell asleep except for James who could hardly sleep as he had a dreadful feeling that something or someone was watching them from the distance.

The night went on without any incident, James hardly got any sleep but still carried on with his duties as Gordon coupled to the express coaches and made his way to Vicarstown to pick up the guests along with Sir Topham Hatt.

When they arrived, Gordon saw a group of four young women, they stared at him with such curiosity and fascination that it almost made Gordon nervous.

"Ah, good morning, girls, I hope you all had a safe and pleasant trip! It's such a pleasure to have you all come to my railway, my name is Sir Topham Hatt II, and I'm the second generation running this fine railway. This is one of my prestige and trustworthy engines, Gordon, he will be taking you all to Tidmouth station, and we will begin our tour from there!" Sir Topham Hatt greeted to the four girls and they all smiled.

"Thank you for having us, sir, my name is Jisoo, I'm the eldest, and this man here is my manager," Jisoo introduced herself.

"I'm Jennie, I'm the second oldest, surely, you've once watched our music videos?" Jennie introduced herself with a hint of pride.

"My name is, Chaeyoung but everyone calls me Rosé, it's a pleasure to meet you~," Rosé introduced herself with such elegance in her voice.

"Hello, I'm Lisa, the Maknae of the group! This railway is such a nice place!" Lisa introduced herself as she admired the scenery and countryside.

After the introductions, the girls and the Controller boarded onto the express coach and Gordon puffed out of Vicarstown and began the journey to Tidmouth station.

~

Y/N's POV

As I finished doing my morning routine, I put on my work uniform, put on my coat, I put on my shoes, and walked out of the dormitory to Tidmouth sheds.

It was early in the morning at five am, I yawned a bit as I greeted Thomas as I was his driver.

"Good morning, Y/N, I heard we're getting visitors all the way from Korea!" Thomas greeted and I nodded.

"Yeah, I heard about it, they're a Kpop group called Blackpink, I doubt you heard of them... Ya know, since you're an engine," I replied.

"Oh, you'd be right, who is Blackpink and what is Kpop?" Thomas asked as he was slowly generating steam in his boiler.

"Kpop is a music genre, it's quite popular nowadays, can't go one day without hearing one of their songs, and they are talented singers and dancers, I watch them some time," I answered as I was shoveling coal in his firebox getting ready to start the day.

Then we heard a loud whistle and I recognized it to be Gordon as he rolled onto the rolling platform and joined the rest of us in the sheds.

I was wondering what was going on as Gordon should be heading out to take the express coaches by now but I was shocked to see Blackpink themselves.

They were walking with my boss Sir Topham Hatt, and they all stared at the engines with wonder and fascination.

"Good morning, everyone! I'd like to introduce you all to Blackpink, and they have come here for a tour around the island as I announced last night! To start things off, I'd like you all to introduce yourselves!" He instructed.

Henry, Emily, Thomas, Percy, and Edward all introduced themselves to the girls and letting out loud whistles as they generated enough steam in their boilers.

All except for James who still looked uneasy but he snapped out of his trance and introduced himself giving a fake smile trying to hide something.

"Wah, it's such a pleasure to meet you all! I heard so much about this place and it's amazing to be here in person!" Lisa replied as she walked up to the engines.

"Now, Thomas, Y/N, and Elliot, I'd like you to give them the tour around Sodor. Toby will be taking over your branch line for the day, that will be all!" The boss ordered us and we nodded.

"Yes, sir!' Thomas acknowledged and the controller got into his car and drove away leaving us alone.

I showed the girls inside of Thomas's cab, I let them blew the whistle a few times, but while I showed them around, I noticed James looked uneasy and so does the others.

"James, is everything okay?" Edward asked with a hint of concern in his voice.

"Oh, it's nothing..." James tried to play it off but it wasn't going to deter Edward one bit.

"Well, if I don't know any better but is quite rare... Poor little James has seen a ghost," Gordon teased.

Henry and Gordon laughed but the others remained silent including Y/N and the Blackpink members.

"I-I did see something..." James softly spoke up and the two stopped laughing.

"And what is that?" Henry asked in an amusing tone.

"I saw a scrap engine..." He answered and their smiles dropped to a confused to look.

"A scrap engine? That's it? I understand it's rather distressing to see those poor souls but we've all seen them plenty of times yet you never once looked this disturbed," Gordon pointed out but James sighed.

"T-this one was different, the engine was cut in half without a fault... Never seen anything like that before," James mentioned and the others were deeply disturbed.

Myself, Jisoo, Lisa, and Rosé, we're also disturbed about this, except for Jennie was very skeptical about the whole thing and wondered if they were just hallucinating the whole thing.

"James, you must've seen a victim of... 'The Half Engine'..." Thomas replied to him with a nervous look on his face.

"Thomas! This is no time for teasing!" James angrily growled.

"I'm not teasing you! I know exactly what happened!" He assured and Edward insisted on telling us.

Looking at Jennie's skeptical expression, I thought she wouldn't bother listening but she stayed and paid attention to Thomas anyway.

"A long time ago, when Sir Topham Hatt I was running the railway, it was the time when the North Western Railway was founded, many engines had been brought here to help including myself and others. However... there was one engine that was different," Thomas paused as he recalled the tale.

"Something horrible went wrong with her construction, she only had half a face, and the other half being her smokebox door, we could hardly understand what she was trying to say, maintenance on her was a nightmare to watch or listen to, and through all of this... She was in immense excruciating pain, every night we heard her crying and pleading for the pain to go away, it was so horrid that many of us could hardly stomach it," Thomas explains the whole story and the girls were in deep shock about this and again deeply disturbed.

Lisa and Rosé looked at each other with fear written all over their faces and Jisoo didn't say a word but Jennie was skeptical as ever.

"But the nastiest of us and even some of the crews saw it as nothing but a joke, this would all boil up inside of her and one day, her behavior changed for the worst... She became more violent, snapping at everyone she came across, even those who pitied her, and to make things worse, at night, she traveled down the sheds and down a heavily forested line, and when she returned, she swore that we would all perish on this railway, in her gargled barely identical speech, and we began to believe she was possessed and deranged in all her suffering, seeking any ways to get rid of her deformity,"

"Eventually, the Director of the Railway had enough, and he ordered another engine to take her down the smelter yard to be cut up for scrap, at the same time, myself and another engine were heading home from work, but as we made our way down the line, we saw smoke and multiple sounds of fire engines, we rushed to see what happened, and there was a sight I'll never forgot..." Thomas again paused.

"We never saw her again after that day... But rumors spread from workmen about noises on foggy nights, they all told us the same thing, it sounded like someone screaming in pain, and now it seems like her spirit still roams around the railway to this day..." Thomas finished his tale.

Again, the others were silent as the grave, deeply disturbed and terrified of this, the girls were shivering as they looked down the line wondering if perhaps the Half Engine was watching them.

"Pft. What a load of rubbish! Come on guys, you can't be seriously believing this is all real?! It's fake! Just like every other folklore tale! James, what you say may have been a hallucination!" Jennie exclaimed but the others didn't seem to agree with her.

"Jennie, I'm being serious here! It's all real and I was there!" Thomas warned her but she scoffed.

"Yeah, sure... Almost as real as any other scary ghost engine story!" Jennie sarcastically replied and Thomas sighed in defeat.

But little did Jennie know was that something was lurking in the shadows of the yard, watching the others before disappearing in the wind.

I swore I caught a glimpse of an engine down near the shunting yards but it vanished before I got a good look but I have a bad feeling about the whole situation especially for Jennie's safety.

We continued on the tour as scheduled, the camera crew and the girls were vlogging around the island as Thomas, Eliiot and I, were travelling down the main lines.

When it was getting dark, we head down back to the main line and concluded the day as we got good footage for their Youtube channel, and we arrived back to Tidmouth sheds.

After I finished putting Thomas into his designated shed, I guided the girls to the dormitory where they'll be sleeping for the rest of their stay.

"For a railway dormitory, it sure is nice..." Jisoo complimented.

"Yeah, not bad, right? Provided a place to stay and get paid, can't really beat that," I replied and chuckled.

"By the way, Y/N, is the Half Engine, real?" Rosé nervously asked and I sighed.

"If I'm being honest... That is up to you to believe what is real and what is not," I spoke to her with a solemn tone and she gulped.

Not wanting to intrude any further, I bid them goodnight and I went back into my own dorm to get some rest for the night.

~

Jennie's POV

As we settled into our dorm, the girls were getting ready for bed and go to sleep but I wasn't tired yet as I wanted to find out myself if the story of the Half Engine is real or just made up to scare us.

Regardless, I don't believe in the thing but I'm willing to give it a shot, I grabbed my phone and flashlight.

I snuck out of the bedroom without waking up the girls as I quietly exited the dormitory, the night was foggy and quiet giving an uneasy ambience.

Despite all of that, I pressed on as I made my way into the heavily forested line where the Half Engine is said to reside.

I pop up my camera app on my phone beginning to record my investigation.

"Alright, Blinks, this is the investigation of the legend of the Half Engine, where it says is a ghostly engine with half a face and the other half being her smokebox door. To be honest, guys, I'm not too sure about the whole thing, so let us find out!" I started the recording as I ventured down the foggy line.

Ten minutes into my mischief yet dangerous investigation there was nothing out of the ordinary that appeared other than some owls and occasionally deer.

Eventually I was starting to grow bored and figured this whole thing was a waste of time and began pondering if I should just head back to the dormitory.

"Aish, you know what Blinks, I'm tired so this concludes-" She was cut off when she heard a loud banshee like scream causing her to freeze.

"U-uhhh... D-did you hear that...?" She nervously asked the camera and again the scream was heard but this time it was louder.

Then I heard a faint sound of puffing of a steam engine heading my way along with the banshee-like scream.

"W-whos there?! This isn't funny?! Thomas is that you?!" Jennie called out but there was no response.

But at the corner of my eye, I looked into the fog and my stomach dropped as I saw a rusted engine charging at me. But her face was skeletal and the other half being her smokebox... IT CANNOT BE!!!

"AAAAAHHHHHHHH!!!!!" I screamed in terror as the deranged engine was charging torwards me and was about to run me over.

I closed my eyes standing still then I heard someone shouting out my name as I was trembling and frozen in terror.

"Jennie?"

"Jennie?"

"Jennie!"

I opened my eyes fearing to see that ungodly engine but it was long gone and I sighed in relief when I saw Y/N with Thomas with worried looks on their faces.

"Are you okay, Jennie?" Y/N asked as he shined his lantern in his hand.

"I-I guess..." I answered as I was shaken.

"You really shouldn't have gone out this late, do you know what could be out here? Bears, wolfs, and maybe even dangerous people," Y/N scolded me and I looked down in shame.

I pulled out my phone to call my members as they are probably worried sick about me but I gasped when I saw my phone cut clean in half without error...

"N-no way... How is this possible...?" I trembled as I tried to figure out what the fuck happened to my phone.

"You should consider yourself luckty it was your phone... Instead of you," Thomas spoke and I looked up to him.

"What do you mean...? The Half Engine did this to my phone...?" I nervously asked and Y/N nodded.

"Not many people live to tell their tale... Instead, they are found with their corpses cut in half... Just like the engines. I saw her once myself and that's why I consider myself the luckiest man on the island," Y/N explained and shivers ran down my spine as I felt thankful that it took my phone instead of me.

Thomas and Y/N gave me a ride back to the sheds and he guided me back to the dormitory and I was in for a lecture from Jisoo that night but that was the least of my concerns.

Whatever I saw... Whether it be the Half Engine or not, I will never forget it and I feel like this will haunt me for the rest of my life.

I feel sorry and regret that I didn't believe Thomas and instead risked my own life to prove that the Half Engine is nothing but a made-up folklore tale.

Throughout the rest of the trip, nothing happened and I never saw the Half Engine again, but the thought of it lingered in my mind, and sometimes... At night, when I sleep... I feel being watched by something or someone.

[scentedpepper]

Missions, Malaise and Migas Pt. III | Leon Kennedy

Pt. 1 Pt. 2 Pt. 4 Pt.5 Pt. 6 Pt. 7 Final Part

Fandom: Resident Evil

Pairing: Leon Kennedy x Male Reader

Summary: Leon and Y/N have some underlying issues. Ones they tried to warn DSO about.

Content Warnings: None

Other Pairings: Luis Sera x Reader

Author Note(s): Don't mind errors, I edited this half asleep

Things get less gender netrual here with he/him pronouns being used

The storm is back. The rain is pounding down on the window and you're not sure how much time has passed, only that the windows are practically fogged up now and Luis seems to have all the areas of your body that hurt wrapped up like a mummy.

You stay void of the areas that have bandages plastered to them as you wipe the grime from your body with a rag. When the water in the tub has turned a brown color you drain it and fill it halfways again, like a mop bucket.

The bathroom is silent other than the continous splash of soapy water and the scrubbing sound that emits from the rag moving too harshly against your skin. Your hair is damp, pushed back and out of your face.

And though you can hear Luis rummaging around in the other room and you can faintly smell something being cooked, it's not enough of a distraction to pull you away from your thoughts. It was stupid coming here without a word. You knew that. And you were dreading what would come after.

It was just a bad move.

Luis, bless his soul and his ability to set up a good atmosphere and help you feel comfortable, had taken to leaving you alone and making you ease into the change of setting. It would be rude not to appreciate it, or try to find a way to ask for his forgiveness instead.

You sigh, moving to sit on the edge of the tub, hands dipping into the water to unplug the drain and let the it escape. You step out after watching it swirl and swirl and swirl. But your movements feel slowed, as if the moment you step from this bathroom, your responsibilities come back to you. –Not that they ever left.

So you stay in there for a while, staring at yourself in the mirror. You comb through your hair with your fingers. More time than necessary is taken to check over everything. Some blotches and bags have formed underneath your eyes, tiredness seeping into your muscles, showing itself in different parts of you. It makes you annoyed. Wanting to leave, get your partner, go home.

"Mierda. " Luis cusses and you can only guess it's because he's burnt his finger on the skillet.

It's enough to move you away from your head and you reach for the boxers the man leant you without a second thought. You step into them slowly, and you pull them up even slower before settling on yourself in the mirror again, adjusting the waist band.

Your shoulder hurts and so do your hands, but everything else feels less stiff. You have one hand resting on the mirror as you gaze at yourself. More marks from various different missions litter your face. It wasn't unusual to forget what the normal you used to look like.

Your eyes are droopy, your features weighted with tiredness. But before you know it, they're changing, switching rapidly and you're grabbing your gun from the counter top. Suddenly, all your exhaustion is gone and you feel your body shoot to the exit like a missle.

Your eyes are wide when you burst through from the bathroom and your bare feet cause a crunch when you're left to stand on the door that's been knocked clean off its hinges laid in the middle of the walkway.

Your gun is up, arms outstretched the moment you turn the edge of the door frame and your finger is twitching at the trigger. You don't see anything at first, but when you pursue deeper into the room, your tense shoulders fall at the sight.

Luis is pressed against the wall, his hands are up in surrender, and there's a gun digging into the side of his turned face.

The food has been discarded, onto the floor, the skillets face down, the tables on its side.

Everything has gone to complete dissary in a matter of minuets.

"Where is he?" The voice is deep, angry and littered with resentment.

"Has interrumpido la cena, amigo. "

"In English. " The cold steel is pressing harder.

"Leon, let him go. " The words come out of your mouth with the breath you'd been holding.

The gun lowers so fast it may as well have turned back into air, never even been there at all. And you watch Luis retreat away from the opposing partner who has yet to even look at you, hands still raised in the air.

You're just standing there, near nudity, staring. Staring at the gradual lowering of Luis arms. Staring at Leon's back. Staring at Ada.

Staring at him.

When he finally turns around, his gaze moves straight to you before it darts over the bandages and all the bruises littered across your body. He's frozen at the sight of you and he keeps trailing all of your injuries but his face is unreadable.

His eyes go down your arm, stop at your ring. Flicker back up to the underwear.

"Put this on. " He says suddenly, jerking his upper body, and your eyes have already found the fabric flung towards you, plucked from your lost bag by the time his hand has released it.

You've already gathered that he's angry but this is no explosion and your eyebrows are creased in concern.

"How did-? " You ask cautiously and the last syllable of your sentence is barely heard as Leon turns his back to you.

"We're leaving. " He says bluntly and you hesitate a bit, slowly putting the pants on anyway.

"Leon, " its the beginning of Adas reasoning. "It's dark, we should wait out the storm. Your partner needs rest. " She shakes her head with a sigh. "Just look at him. "

As Ada refers to you, Leon's eyes stay solidly on her. You can see the muscles of his jaw clenching and unclenching. You can see him taking in a deep breath before addressing the situation. You can hear him when he speaks, when his eyes drill through anyone who looks at him.

"We have nowhere to go but forward. He'll have tough it out. “

Leon stares a bit longer, his words for you, for Ada, for Luis. He's just as emotionless when he's talking as when he was earlier and his fists clench and flex with the tense atmosphere he's created.

Leave it to Luis to never learn when to shut up.

"¿Perdón?" Luis takes one step forward. "He stumble in here, his poor body being bruised and broken. What were you doing in the moutains in the first place?" His hands are flat out, throwing questions the other man's way and the glare he receives only makes his eyes bigger, his movement more emphatic. "He has to rest! You want him dead?" His exclamations are fueled with exasperation.

Ada is not helping at all, staring silently and watching Leon out of the corner of her eye like she can tell what's about to happen.

"Don't be dense. You took his shirt off, didn't you?" The look on his face twists slightly, anger brewing, mixing with the other emotions that have started to surface. You've known him long enough you're able to read a few pages. "He doesn't need rest. " He squints. "He needs to get back in his gear and learn what it means to follow orders. "

That one gets you. It heats you to your core.

"Estúpido!" He grunts. "You won't even take the time to- to, " A hand gestures lazily. "take a moment and look at him. Look around you! " His hands swing wildly again.

Your face scrunches at the thought. "Luis. " You try to interject, huffing as you step forward, putting yourself more into his field of vision, but it doesn't work. They both ignore you all together.

"What's next, Captain? Hmmm?" He keeps rolling out with it. "This?" He swipes his forearm outwards, gesturing to your person. "Is this next? His death?" His hands bang together before gripping the air. "Another funeral you have to plan?"

That tears Leon apart. Splits him like paper. And the only way he can think to retaliate is with anger and harsh tones and the rebuttal comes from him almost faster than you can blink.

"Maybe if he could afford to listen! Maybe then, I won't have to push him so hard! To look at what his failures lead too!"

The accusation pisses you off more than anything has in a while.

"Leave. " You say and you're trying to keep things under wraps before they get more out of hand. The single word is pushed out fast and the way you're folding your arms over your chest helps you hide some of the hurt and the clenched expression you wish not to display.

Leon, stubborn and angry, doesn't listen.

"Yes, leave, hermano!" Luis insists.

"Maybe we should step out. " It's Ada speaking up now, her voice carrying a certain amount of calm and seriousness, but she makes no move to go, she simply addresses Leon.

Leon's reply is swift. "We have a mission. "

"Just to breathe. " She clarifys, holding the bridge of her nose, her lashes kissing and mingling together when she closes her eyes before she's sighing. "Why do we have to hold him prisoner? He looks like shit, Leon. " Her arm reaches to push her hair back.

A beat passes.

"Your mission can go to shit too. Like that. " She snaps her fingers in the air.

You know she's right, the both of you.

There's a silence that wafts over the air, like the calm before the storm, and you know it has hit Leon. That the words that have been spoken are sticking and he is analyzing all of them like a puzzle.

But he can't seem to muster up his next line and he's trudging out of the room, knocking his shoulder into yours.

Your face distorts into of pain as your left hand grapples where he'd hit you, the fresh relocation of your shoulder tender and sore.

Ada inhales, looking away for a moment and rubbing her brow again before she follows Leon.

The click of her heels pause when she gets to your side and her hand is resting on top of yours, her painted fingers far gentler than the current hold you have on your shoulder. "It was bad, wasn't it?" She asks and her eyes are fixated on her hand like it knows the answer better than her own mouth.

It was and she can see that without having to question you, but neither one of you press for further elaboration.

"I'll bring your boy back more reasonable, don't worry. " She beckons and her hand flits from you.

Luis is talking out his concern as he follows her, probably to put the door back up, waving his hands over his head, turning around abruptly, saying something in Spanish as he points at you. You can't make out half of it, but you believe it to be more exasperation.

The sound of the door being placed back in its frame is loud and chaotic and under normal circumstances you probably would've laughed at the lanky man. But it all feels like white noise right now. Your feet take you to the bedside and your body feels as heavy as a brick.

You let out a hefty puff, your fingers rubbing against your eyes until Luis' footsteps near closer and he is clasping your chin. You're already turned up to stare at him, eyes trained into his warm gaze.

"Mi amor. I'm sorry. " He states and you shake your head as his hand trails up your bandaged one, his skin touching you. He lays his fingers on the split of your palm.

"No big deal. " You dismiss but your voice doesn't meet your words.

"Lo es. " It's quiet and it's a hiss. He disagrees, even though, at this point, you're not sure if he understands you've brought this upon yourself. He starts to say more and the small laugh that's escaped his lips comes out halfway through. "You two so stupid. "

He's amused now, and you can't really help the small smile that warms your lips. He leans in slightly to place a lingering kiss on your forehead, the feel of his soft, brown strands falling onto you.

The creases of his eyes soften after a moment and he retracts his hands, sitting beside you on the edge.

"I fix some food. " He resumes and his steps are bouncy and upbeat this time, like the problem has already been rectified. "Simple. Because sancho..." He gestures to the fallen food on the floor, his tongue clicking.

He is so unbothered.

You feel like this was his intention the whole time. To get you smiling, which you're sure doesn't happen enough when you're not around him.

You give a half nod in response.

"You eat?" Luis is quick to fill the air.

"Two days. " You reply.

He scoffs slightly, pausing for a moment in the kitchen area.

"Grow your waist line, sweetpea. No time to lose. "

A small, rumbling laugh rolls in your throat. It's soft and nonchalant and your head is hanging, eyes closed for a moment. But you feel a little bit lighter after it.

"Now, you are tired. " Luis says.

"Luis. "

"Shhh. "

Your head rises to look at him and it hurts your neck to keep your gaze elevated but he's so matter of fact about everything it makes you roll your eyes and huff, laying back on his bed. Just for a moment. Just to rest.

"You sleep. Don't let him bother you. "

"Mmm. " You slur.

Luis looks over you when he turns, placing something back in the fridge. You're fighting the weariness, keeping your eyes open, watching his movements. He's humming to himself and re-stacking papers that had fallen when the door had been sent through the air moments before.

You fight it, but the sweet hum of a song you don't know begins to lull you, send you drifting. It was so nice to just stop for a moment. It was so nice to find Luis, a home, even if it was temporary, a place that could feel friendly while the world around you was turning without end, an uncontrollable amount of death and destruction looming.

So you fall, with the final note of his melody in your ears, asleep on the brink of the end of the world.

[vinciwolf]

Loyalty Pt 5 (2/2)

(Recom)Na’vi!Miles Quaritch x (fem)Na’vi!Reader

Warnings: SLOW BURN, THIS IS AN EVENTUAL NSFT SERIES, ENEMIES TO LOVERS, capture, romance, reader is female

Warnings for this chapter: reposted this bc I found some errors and also the tags weren't working Finally, the second half of part 5!!! Bring tissues!!! Fluff, tension, angst, violence, animal death, things are finally boiling over!

Notes: Na’vi spoken in italics AND brackets now to clear up any confusion in this chapter.

Tags: @deliwrites​ @ikranwings​ @lovekeeho​ @luciddasher​ @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed​ @avatar-lover​ @justasimps-blog​ @mechformers​ @perseny​ @dakotali​ @ragingloser​ @worldofmunson​ @whxre-bxby​

You awoke to the hint of sunrays ascending into a purple hue of morning dawn on the horizon. The corner of your lip upturned when the arm around your waist pulled you closer atop the chest you rested your head on, ear listening to the soft thumps of Miles’ heartbeat, your hand lazily set upon his sternum.

Sand shifted beneath your body when you stretched up to peek at the sturdy Marine who still kept his eyes shut, not wanting to move for a few more minutes. It had been a very late hour into the night after starwatching when the two of you laid down to get off your feet, only to slowly descend into sleep on the beach shoulder to shoulder.

“Miles…” you start, tone soft and hushed. “Miles, we…should go back…before anyone thinks we’ve run off.”

A hint of a smirk inched forward on the Recom’s cheek, finding a small bit of humor at your recall to what he had told you inside the floating mountains.

Getting up was hard as the sand was pillowy and warm, but brushing off the particles from your clothes was even worse seeing that your pants had a hole in it for your tail, allowing some of the granular substance to get into your ass crack. Maybe sleeping on the beach wasn’t so much a good idea let alone a romantic one.

The walk back to camp was quiet save for the sounds your feet made shuffling through the pale beach, sun entering the sky and casting itself onto the waking world around you. Not wanting to disturb anyone, you gently got onto your bedroll and stilled yourself, making it seem as if you never left. Miles did much the same in his cot. But there was an eye that peeked open and sneakily watched your elusive return, making the kid grin briefly before returning to his dreams.

~

You soared fast above the water’s edge. Sprinkles of water dusted your face as the large waves crashed into each other below. The sounds reverberated your soul, making the head of your Ikran tip up to glide higher away from the oceanic chaos. Soon the objective of this rough flight came into view: the SeaDragon. It was mighty in size and glared the bright light of the sun off its giant, metallic frame.

Flying in with Miles and Lyle, Sylway flapped hard and landed atop the helm of the SeaDragon. Your feet landed with a bang on the roof as did the other two large Recoms when they dismounted, just for them to hop down with audible thuds onto the deck where the captain stood with a long scowl. Being only seconds behind them, you were about to do the same until you halted when Miles rotated his weight and extended a hand, the light blue of his palm welcoming for you to take—and you did with a visible smirk. The Colonel’s hand firm as he helped you down. Then the captain let out his voice causing your ears to tip with annoyance since you knew a voice like that was attached only to the worst of insufferable douchebags.

“Are you the arsehole commandeering my ship?” Scoresby whined with a heavy accent.

That was Miles’ cue to saunter toward the captain, having an elbow arched from his fingers idly sliding to rest over his pistol.

With a fanged smirk, he admitted huskily, “That would be me.”

Your cheeks flared hot at the cool touch of his voice hijacking your senses. From this angle, your eyes feasted along the arm resting on the holster, studying the flexed muscles swollen under azure, striped skin. He knew what he was doing and it was unfair how he withheld himself last night, only sparing you a kiss to the fucking forehead, so you gladly drank up whatever you could find during these missions.

Not realizing the air passing over your mouth dried out the skin, you padded your tongue to wet them. But there were another pair of lips that weren’t exactly dry, instead quite the opposite.

Inside, Scoresby and Garvin introduced themselves as you stood near the scientist from the other side of the glowing table that showed a map of island locations.

“There’s probably fifty villages out there,” one had mentioned.

“Fifty—one hundred—we’ll search them all,” Miles countered.

“You can’t just come in here and take over my ship! I have quotas to meet!”

Your eyes that were fixed on the captain slowly trailed to the Colonel who leaned his body and lengthy arms on the holographic surface.

“I’ll be nice once, then I won’t,” he smiled with mock friendliness, ears folding back.

You heart skipped when he said that. He was ready, by any means necessary, to finish what he started. Then it dawned on you just how deep with was getting. War was here. Nothing could prepare you for the coming storm – the whole point of the Recombinants’ existence – and that made you anxious, and fearful. You hated how the RDA would waste life just to consume everything. Hated how Miles and every person that was rebirthed as Na’vi would perish eventually while Ardmore could care less.

Inwardly, you scoffed. Just cogs in the machine. Nothing more.

But maybe you could keep at least one of the Recoms alive.

You had to. Your heart begged of it.

~

You knew the RDA was ruthless, so you begged Eywa to prolong those brief moments when Spider laughed or to feel the hairlike touch that set your body on fire when Miles' pinky grazed yours amidst a crowd at a boring meeting. But stalling was not their forte. They would claw forward, burning the whole world down, to get what they wanted. You understood this, teeth grinding together as your heart wrenched witnessing village after village ravaged. Ardmore would have her scalp, no matter how much it pained you to see her loyal Recom at his worst.

The Metkayina were shoved onto their knees and threatened with voltage weapons swelling a knot into your throat too hard to swallow down. You understood that power too well.

Stood before you were Miles, Prager, and Lyle holding the chief and Tsahik hostage. The Colonel lifted up a portrait of Jake and demanded them to tell where to find him.

“These are sea people. Forest people don’t come here,” Spider earnestly explained.

Then the Tsahik regarded you desperately, “[Please, stop this madness! You need to leave!]”

“They don’t know anything!” Spider shouted.

Your heart was torn, unsettling your whole body while begging the villagers to help find your friend. But several of the Metkayina around you kept talking and yelling which made the Recoms and human soldiers angry and begin yelling themselves. Trying to keep up with the scrambled threads of conversations, you got onto your knees and focused on the Tsahik in desperation.

“[It doesn’t matter what you tell me, just give me a direction! Any direction!]” you spoke fast.

Mentally, your cussed yourself out for asking her to lie, but then quickly recalled that these people didn’t even have a word for lie. Her voice was swift as she told you that she didn’t know where Jake was, but you kept interrupting her in an attempt to get her to understand that she didn’t have to tell the truth – you only needed a random location to suffice. But being scrambled with your try at buying time, you didn’t notice that the Recoms were tired, especially Miles, who got increasingly irritated behind you. Then your blood ran cold when three bold words came from the Colonel.

“Shoot that animal!” he shouted, pointing at an Ilu.

Then a loud blast rang through your ears causing them to sting, whole body curling in from the sudden noise. Then the villagers cried and hollered watching the creature float dead in the water. You swiveled where you crouched and looked to the water, eyes rounding in shock, lungs deepening with hard breaths.

A few feet away, the kid made it clear his disgust. “What the hell are you doing???”

No… no, no, no!

You felt like a failure. This wasn’t supposed to happen.

Your feet were faster than your thoughts as you stood and said very firmly, almost a hiss, “…Miles.”

“They don’t know anything! What you’re doing here is wrong!” Spider screamed. “Please!”

Then Lyle was pushing the end of his rifle into your backside, stinging your flesh as the barrel was still freshly hot.

“Choose your next words carefully,” he warned.

That was when you had enough.

“You’re not pressing the knife where it hurts—” you turn around and face the Corporal, image reflecting off his black shades, this time his gun at your ribs “—and next time you threaten me—” you glare through your brow with a hint of your sharp fangs glinting in the sunlight “—do it to my face.”

Then you took Spider, who you loved and raised, and trudged away from the chaos, Miles not even stopping you. You couldn’t cry, not in front of them. The deep rot in your chest returned and ate away the last lingering bit of hope you tried to salvage in this daily hellhole. Why did you even stay again? Oh, right, the thing around to your neck. You were trapped.

Had he felt nothing? Had those moments of touch and comfort mean anything, or was he just playing along to get a kick out of it. Did he get off knowing that if he wanted to take you, nothing could stop him. How could you resist? You wanted so badly for things to be better, despite the gaping hole manifesting itself in your heart having to watch countless communities destroyed.

~

Eclipse had fallen hours ago. The dock was quiet and lifeless from the Recoms and crew tucked away in the hull of the ship to catch some sleep. The air was still aside from the critters going about their business zipping through the air or the occasional scampering of something in the woods far off beyond the ship's pier. Despite the deep ache to run towards freedom as you looked at Sylway, who had perched herself for slumber, you hugged your knees from the sting in your eyes, a lone tear crawling down your cheek, tail furling. Ears then flicked to the oncoming sounds of a grunt and shuffling behind you. Part of you wished it was Spider, but you knew those footsteps with the heavy thuds atop the spacious roof of the ship’s bridge, only part of the ship that gave you some semblance of privacy, belonged to someone else.

"You found a good hiding spot," Miles' voice reached through the endless silence that had settled long ago.

Your stomach lurched as you tried to contain your emotions with tears begging to trample forward over the ravine. It was hard to look at him, heart jumping in response to his presence nearing to where you sat. He was so close yet it felt like he was far away where you could not reach him. You yearning to be at his side faded into sorrow. Mourning for what could have been if things were different. Mourning for what could still come to pass if you caved selfishly and said fuck it all.

“I couldn’t find you when we were debriefing. I could’ve used your input...”

You sneered, "Just your box of secrets to exploit whenever you please."

“Don’t make this difficult. We both knew this would have to happen to weed out Sully.”

Enough rage was flowing through your body that you hadn’t realized how quickly you stood up.

“Did you actually care!? Or would you have kept me collared all along like a good pet until you’d find the time to discard me and Spider when you were done with us!?”

Your words struck a chord in Miles causing his tempter to rise and piss out his mouth, like the jarhead he was, not thinking why he let the bitterness flow effortlessly as he spoke.

“You think I care about some kid!? We ain’t even the same species!”

Blood boiled and ran hot through your veins triggering a reflex you didn’t know you could possess. You swung your hand to slap him, but he caught your wrist midair, clasping it hard enough to leave a mark.

"Don't try me, woman!” he spat with venom. "I could have you down cold in a heartbeat!"

Yanking yourself from his vice, you laughed mechanically. It was unnatural and forced as you dwelled in the irony, the burn of your wrist still fresh as you rubbed the pain.

"You're right—" you meet Miles' stare with equal fierceness, tears wiggling along your vision "—you could take me right here, right now, in front of everyone—” your arms spread wide open “—and there'd be nothing I could do about it.”

Then you clutched the device on your neck and jingled it loudly in front the Colonel, pointing out the obvious truth to his statement. You were a dog. Nothing you did since Ardmore strapped this bloody thing on you has been free will. And it tore your guts up knowing you had still fallen for the Marine bastard anyway.

Miles’ eyes widened when it became clear what his words meant, aggravation causing his jaw to tighten when he grasped that he had been stupid and blind. Not once did he have to use the collar for his advantage. Not once. But it was still there waiting and smiling for him to indulge. Shoving a hand in his pocket, he brought out the device to your collar and hit a button.

Everything moved slower as you absorbed the clanking noise hitting the roof below.

Your raging temper rapidly smoothed itself into a calm stream of clarity.

Free.

You were free.

Fingertips with a featherlike touch, careful and unsure, hovered where the bulky collar should have been to then finally press along your exposed skin, breathing shallow and overwhelmed. It felt strange for your mind to process but your heart raced. Then your senses came to with the loud drumming of Miles’ steps. He hunched over and snatched the circular device.

“I don’t want your loyalty bought!” he shook the collar in your face before chunking it over the bridge, landing somewhere forgotten on the dock.

Within, your gut screamed at you to keep your feet still but you were at your breaking point. Lungs felt like they were filling up with something hot, like you’d float away if you didn’t get fresh air despite being outside. Your face displayed fear, yet something else was being calculated behind your look. Miles’ brow drew close as he put together what you might do next, silently pleading for you not to do it.

But you were off and skipping down the human stairways with great thumps as you sprinted to Sylway with only one instinct playing through your every fiber: run.

"Motherfu-" Miles whispered irately to himself while he bounced down and ran to Cupcake, taking off into the night sky after you.

Your heart raced, exhilarated by being in the air. It felt wrong to run, almost like a betrayal, but you wanted to flee for so long that you didn’t recognize yourself in this moment as running.

Miles then appeared beside Sylway, causing her to screech, Cupcake batting her wings harshly to keep up with your Ikran’s crazed flying as you desperately searched for anywhere to be safe.

"LEAVE ME ALONE!!!" you yelled across the loud thunder of wind passing your body.

But the Recom held firm, not knowing if he had lost his goddamn mind or kept up because he didn’t want you to hurt yourself as you flew like crazy over the giant waves roaring below.

You got excited when you noticed a giant fracture that split up the side of a mountain, banking hard to enter the fissure. Sylway passed under the thick vines that hug down the rocky opening, the walls of the tunnel humming as you made your way deeper into the cavernous heart.

Inside, bioluminescent spores and other huge fungi covered the long columns of the stones jutting up to the dark ceiling above. You hid behind one just in time as Miles flapped into the cave moments behind you. While the disturbed air stilled, glowing speckles from the plants floated down to cover you and Sylway.

Then a voice rang out to you in the darkness.

“(Y/N)!” Miles hollered.

“Please, I know today was—” he inhaled deeply “—not a clean search like the rest…it was fucked up.”

He felt awful for not being able to fit the right words together.

“I—” he halted again, cussing himself out.

How could he say sorry? He justified his actions because it was in his entire DNA, the only reason he’s alive, to hunt down Jake Sully. But was it worth it if it meant losing you? Something tugged low in his chest as he thought about how he was possibly talking to no one in these caves, that you had lost him – that he was alone.

With nothing left to lose, he exhaled just above a whisper, “Please come back to the ship.”

Please come back to me.

Your face twisted with sadness as you listened to his tired plea. Defeated and lost, you revealed yourself by Sylway’s flapping and readying for flight, the lustrous dust kicking off her wings.

When in the air and outside the mountain, your heart slowly began pulsing normally, so you landed on a beach and hopped from your Ikran, Miles not too far behind leaving his own mount. Your legs plodded through the sand without a destination in mind still feeling the need to get away.

"Now where're you going??"

"I don’t know!” you fling your arms in the air “—just away! Away from you! Away from everything!”

"I know you can't run away from the kid! He needs you!"

"Oh, and like you can't take care of him yourself!? You need mommy's help?"

"Quit acting stupid!"

Miles grabbed your elbow and roughly shoved you around, to which you pushed him away.

"LEAVE ME!" you screamed harshly to then whimpered, tears flooding your vision and dampening your cheeks. "What you’re doing—what you did to those people was wrong!”

"I DID IT TO PROTECT YOU!"

You were taken aback as he snapped, but he wasn’t angry, he was confessing.

“Jake Sully is my mission, but they put a fucking noose around your neck and a chip in the kid’s mask! I had—I can’t just do nothing!”

“But Ardmore doesn’t give a crap about you or the others! You’re just fodder to her!”

“Fucking Christ—” Miles turned and rubbed a hand over his face. He wanted Jake defeated. That was his whole purpose. He tried to alter his decisions subtlety when the General couldn’t see, but this war coming to a head was inevitable. Taking a deep breath, he returned to facing you.

"You can run away. I know you fucking hate me. But please come back, at least for the kid."

Your palms covered your nose and mouth, eyes wrinkling shut hard in an attempt to stop the flow of tears. Could he not see that he was being fooled? The RDA didn’t give a damn about anyone or anything.

This was too much. You faced your back to the Marine and gazed heavenward.

Why did Eywa put you here?

Then quietly on a shaky breath, you said, "I would've followed you into the fire if it meant keeping Spider safe... if it meant keeping you safe."

Miles perked at your hesitant voice, edging him to step closer.

"My loyalty… it was never bought—” you could feel his breath on your neck “—not for you.”

A pressure weighed against the back of your head when Miles’ crown gently leaned into your hair. No words needed exchanging.

You inched your body around until you were face to face with the Colonel.

Then you connected lips.

[anfie-in-the-box]

Rest for both wicked and weary

Notes

The eleventh of October is my birthday, but no congratulations needed — I only celebrate by gifting things to other people. Please have this piece dedicated to @dragon-tamer-1, who I value endlessly. The prompt was Error and Dream relaxing peacefully; I'm not sure if it's particularly fluffy, there's definitely some angst here, but even more Hurt/Comfort.

。。。

Dream prepares for his visit to the Anti-Void painstakingly. He wears clothes of soft gray shades, only leaving the tiara and the cape untouched, so it doesn't bother Error's weak eyesight yet has enough colour to attract his attention. Then Dream gets a cane — in the Anti-Void, vast and ever-changing, you don't believe your eyes; you stay vigilant and keep your step light, weightless almost. Luckily, Dream isn't a normal skeleton, he just has a body of one; and even that can be corrected with the right training. Or just experience, he supposes; oh, how he used to shamble around, making Error laugh, before he realised he could use a cane. Like a blind being, only he is indeed blind in the Anti-Void, like all not-errors are. He's a stranger there, and since he can't become an error, an unwelcome one.

Dream sighs, putting on thin gloves, just in case. He's ready now. 

It takes time to focus properly — the Anti-Void is utterly chaotic, constantly rebuilding itself, and full of creatures beyond comprehension. Some of them are capable of feeling, some aren't, some feel but so differently Dream is left confused — he's too used to his empathic abilities. 

But eventually, finally, he finds the right being. So he teleports. 

Error instantly spots him, even though Dream appears behind him. He might be half-blind with that poor eyesight of his, but his intuition is impeccable — at least when it comes to beings with souls, which Dream is. 

"I was waiting for so long," Error complains, irritated. "How many tries did it take to find me?" 

"Just one," Dream smiles widely. "It took more time, but I managed to find you in one try." He knows he sounds very proud of himself, but that's okay. With Error, he's allowed to feel and think unapologetically. Error, though he demands attention, lets Dream go just as easily. And besides, they teach each other many things — Error knows how to be selfish very well indeed and learns from Dream how to be more empathetic and considerate.

They work together quite nicely.

Lost in his pride, Dream forgets to use the cane and immediately trips and falls — not right on his face though — there are blue strings keeping him airborne. He giggles awkwardly and says, "Thanks." 

"Yeah, yeah, tell me how great I am." Error doesn't turn around but Dream knows he grins. He can't help smiling in return. 

"You can put me down now, you know," Dream half-suggests, half-asks while wiggling slightly to try and untangle himself without Error's help. Tough luck. 

"As if you could escape on your own!" Error gloats. "I hold the entire universes, a small guardian like you doesn't stand a chance!" 

"Yet Ink manages," Dream disagrees carefully. 

"That cheater doesn't have a soul. You do." 

Now that's something Dream hasn't pondered over. Not right now either — as soon as Error sets him free, he scurries to his blue bean bag chair — this time using the cane, of course, — and sits down — lies down almost. It's warm and soft. Cozy. So big it's more of a bed than a chair; which might as well be true, there's nothing else here resembling a bed, and Dream knows for sure Error loves sleeping.

"Where did you even get your bean bag from?" Dream asks, ready to hear it's stolen like chocolate from Underfell and the lives of innocents from any other AU. 

Error doesn't reply instantly. Dream even considers standing up and looking Error in the sockets to see what's wrong, but then he finally says, "I actually don't remember. Like it's always been there, maybe even before me."

Who knows, it might be true. The Anti-Void contains and loses all sorts of creatures, after all. 

Error sounds distressed like he always is when his memory acts up, so Dream hurries to roll closer and asks, "A pinkie?" 

"A hand," Error replies, every sound of a single word glitching. 

Dream gives him a bare hand — he still hasn't found gloves tender enough to pacify Error's glitching fits. For some reason it's easier for him to touch Dream's bones than any fabric they'd tried. 

Perhaps it's time to ask if Error has any idea why. When he gets better, of course. Hopefully it doesn't last long.

Dream squeezes Error's hand and gets a squeeze in return. At least he's conscious and not rebooting…

"You feel… different. There's more, er, something other than magic in you. Magic in skeleton-monsters or even monsters in general is more solid than whatever you're made of. Not even ghosts are anything like you." Error explains. 

"Positivity," Dream clarifies. "I'm made of positity. Not entirely, my bones are just that — magical bones; but even those are covered with positive energy. And my eye-lights, my insides, my attacks are all pure positivity." 

"Well, that explains it," Error shrugs. "You're basically so much of a sunshine it overwhelms my phobia and cancels it. As much as it can be canceled, I suppose." 

"Does it really help though? My presence, my… touch?" Dream pauses before the last word, feeling all warm yet uncertain. 

He knows it does. And knows Error knows he knows. But hearing the answer and believing it are two different states of mind. Dream's yet to reach the second one. 

And so Error answers absolutely honestly, "It does."

The two of them then sit together, still holding hands, resting in peace and quiet.

Later Error might or might not steal a book or a few and make Dream read to him, and Dream will read, silently reminiscing about the days of old, when his brother was alive but not happy, not since the villagers came to be. He loved the books though, and loved reading them to Dream, though the little guardian of positivity was beside the Tree less and less, helping the villagers where he could, and then where he couldn't but still did, because people demanded. The memories are bittersweet, and even later Dream will share a few with Error, and Error will listen attentively, and then share his own foggy memories of the past, full of inconsistent and even missing bits.

"A hug and a trip to that version of Outertale I found?" Error asks suddenly. 

"Sounds like a plan," Dream beams. Error rarely requests hugs but that just makes them even more precious to the guardian of positivity. 

So they stand up — Error effortlessly, Dream's with a bit more difficulty, he's not exactly used to furniture like Error's bean bag, — and embrace. 

"Is the texture of my clothes still good?" Dream asks when they let go of each other. 

Error nods, grinning, "Perfect, as I deserve."

"Glad to hear that. Outertale?" 

"Yeah. It's unlike most of the AUs where some people manage to evacuate. True genocide, nobody left. You won't feel a thing, not a single grieving or furious soul," Error looks at Dream with pride. 

"That's… really smart, actually." Dream says thoughtfully. "Nothing to make me stronger, but also nothing to make me weaker or attract Corrupted." 

"Of course it's smart. It was my idea after all." Error boasts and opens a portal. "You first." 

Dream smiles at him and makes his first step into outer space. He's not afraid; he won't be alone in its solitude. 

。。。

Notes

Lots and lots of headcanons here!

Anti-Void being full of non-existent things, Dream's true nature peaking through his skeleton form... It was really nice to finally share those.

Also very proud of the title choice here. It came to me naturally. I instantly knew — that's it. As perfect as anything in this world can be.

[lostrealities0]

Finding Home part 1

Next

It was a quiet night for Run of the Mill Pizza. Only a handful of customers showed, and Señor Hueso had half a mind to let his recently employed nephew nuisance have the night off.

Leo dramatically gasped at the suggestion. "What? And let you have all the fun? Absolutely not." The teen worked harder after that, as if to prove a point. The skeleton smiled softly when he saw the tips Leo earned after every table he waited.

Hueso was clearing a table when he heard a knock at the entrance. That was odd. When no other sound followed, Hueso shrugged and moved on.

He nearly jumped out of his bones when Pepino appeared next to him. "Are you not going to let them in?"

"If they don't know how to enter, then it is likely a human."

Leo scoffed. "You serve April."

"Yes, because she was a friend of yokai, or mutants in your case. I am not opposed to serving humans, but I need to know they won't cause me problems."

The two walked back to the kitchen. "I guess that's fair. It's a shame really. So many people never getting the chance to eat your deliciously amazing food."

Hueso rolled his eyes at the teen's theatrics, suppressing a smile. "I appreciate the high praise. Ahora lava los platos."

Leo saluted.

--

Hueso was eager to get home and spend time with his son. Unfortunately, he would have to wait.

On his way to leave, something fell through the pizzaria's entrance. Black goo with flailing arms yelped as it passed through the wall (not the portal, the wall, he noted) and splattered against onto the floor.

The skeleton mentally groaned, praying that whatever it was didn't leave a mess.

The goop gathered itself into a humanoid figure. They were devoid of any features, besides what looked like hair and their eyes. White circles looked up at Hueso with a mixture of shock, shyness and fear. Long hair made from the same goop that made up the rest of them slightly floated around their shoulders, as if they were underwater.

The two stared at each other for what felt like hours.

"...The restaurant's closed."

---

---

I'll be adding more to this as time goes on. Everyday I grieve for the lack of Hueso content so to heal my soul, I decided to make it myself.

Basically, the whole story is the skeleman adopts another child. I'm still deciding whether to make this an oc fic or a reader fic so if any of you have a preference, let me know. No matter what tho, they will be male and mainly use he/him.

Anyways, hope you enjoyed reading. Let me know if there are any errors

[sweetpea-chickadee]

Creative feedback appreciated for a modern fantasy short story! Disregard formatting and gramattical errors, I'm moving from Google doc directly to Tumblr and I have Grammarly. I just want to see how compelling page one is for now!

The Devil’s Hair, brown and Fair; The Angel’s Eyes, Cold and Wide By Lauren Black

Dead leaves carried through the wind, illuminated by street lamps that flickered with a furious buzz. It was a stark contrast to the bright white backdrop of the construction site, as elves and orcs busied themselves to clear debris of the finished building. In any other city, a new building would be nothing to marvel at, but in a town as small as Corpse Hollow, it was a marvelous feat.

Half past 2 AM, and when the rest of the town was asleep–nestled in the warm embrace of safety and comfort–Daemon, the newest orc-hand brought on the team, tolled away moving bits of rubble to take back to the trucks. It was dusty work, gruesome, and tiring, but that was his strong suit: being the muscle. And as Daemon moved a particular large piece of rubble, the other workers on the corner of Kipling and Creek looked in horror at a grisly scene.

Against the dust of old rebar and concrete laid the decayed human remains, sitting in a heap. The decomposing head of a woman sat away from the pile and looked back at Daemon. Her eyes–a milky, pearly white–stared back at Daemon in a way that made him feel like she were looking into his soul. His stomach lurched. The smell. Oh, the smell. That reached the other orcs and elves even before the rest of the crew could reach her.

“Hey, uh, Williams?”

Daemon called out to his supervisor. It was a gruff voice, stern and shaky, and out of character for him. “You better call this one in.”

A quarter past 2 AM, and police were immediately involved. That stark white soon was flooded with the classic flash of red and blue, all still under flickery street lamps.

“Never a dull night. Always some freakshow, huh, Jackie?”

Morgan sighed, although still laced with a dry chuckle. He rolled his neck from side to side, relieving a build up of tension in the muscles, before getting the door for his new partner to step out.

“It’s Jacqueline, remember,” The tiefling chidded. “And if you wanted a slower line of work, I’m sure John in the mailroom could use another hand.”

Jacquline pulled back her lips into a smile, her black lipstick making her pointed fangs almost invisible in the early hours of the morning, and whacked the tip of her tail gently against Morgan’s calf.

“I’ll take my lot with the dead, Jackie. They make better conversationalists anyway.”

“Come on, humans are great storytellers. Wonderful way around books.”

“Never said humans weren’t. Some of them have pretty smiles too, and beautiful pearly eyes.”

A milky pearl, Theresa’s eyes were. Blind, beautiful, perfect. She saw past every flaw, every mistake. With her, Morgan could just be Morgan the Mortician, at least before moving on up to forensics and eventually Major crimes. The half-elf cleared his throat in embarrassment as a warm crimson moved up his neck.

“Or so I hear.”

“Oh yeah, have a pretty elf-maiden at home? Keeping a juicy story from your best friend?”

Jacqueline elbowed him in the ribs in a playful manner.

“A beautiful human, thank you very much, and woah now. A little presumptuous with the titles, aren’t we. There’s only room in my heart for one best friend, so you’ll have no be content with settling below her. Now shush, we have work to do.”

He sighed once more and ran a slim hand through shaggy tawny hair. It was messy, sure, but not unbearably so. Before she could come up with a witty retort, Morgan was already feet in front of her, ready to meet with the construction workers on scene.

“Wait!”

The poor girl huffed and jogged up to catch him.

“We’re supposed to be working together, Morgue.”

He glanced to the side at her, almost in a You’re supposed to be a professional, behave like one warning. It was a silly name. One he earned working in forensics before suddenly disappearing from the job all together. It was a story saved for him and a few within his own inner circle–an inner circle that Jacquline knew she hadn’t crossed just yet.

“Detective Morgan Van der Beek from Elven, Tiefs, and Human Major Crimes Unit; and this is my partner Detective Jacqueline Baptiste. May we see where the woman was found?”

The workers, Williams and Daemon, too shaken up to speak very loud, nodded slowly and waved the pair over. A chilling scene given the enormous stature of the orcs.

“Oh, Gods.”

Jacqueline covered her mouth in disgust at the smell as Morgan knelt by the open hole where the young woman lay. She expected a snide comment at her weak constitution, maybe even a snide or crude joke, anything to cover the unease. That was the main thing she noticed when she was first assigned to be Morgan’s partner: the man was always quick to make a quick jab. She at first thought he didn’t care if he disrespected the dead–they were dead afterall–but she came to know that’s just how Morgan behaved. He wasn’t an old grisled, tough guy she expected him to be. He was just a tired, time-saddened man–or rather young adult by half-elven years.

And yet, no crude or sarcastic comment came from his lips. Instead, it was dark silence followed by sniffles. And a hiccup. And a quiet, shaky sob. She looked down at him through thick eyelashes to see Morgan wiping small tears from his eyes. This was the first time Jacqueline had ever seen Morgan cry. He hovered over the woman’s head, shielding her identity from Jacqueline. It must have been grotesque at the very least, seeing how Morgan fully reacted to the sight before him.

“Morgue, I get you’ve got a weak stomach, but pull yourself together, man. You can cry a river on the way back to the station.”

“Fuck me, it’s Theresa. She’s Theresa. My Theresa.”

[lysatoru]

Geto Suguru - Twin Flames

cw : ANGST, doesn’t really follow the jjk plot

tw : mention of suicide, death, mention of anxiety/panick attack, toxic relationship

Twin flames are the result of the splitting of a single soul.

I had found my twin flame, the flame that destroyed and healed me day by day. He was my blessing and my curse, my success and my failure, he was me and I was him. He was the other side of my soul. Our souls became one. Geto Suguru, you were my other half.

We met one night in a bar. He was with his friends and I was with mine. Our eyes met and we never took our eyes off each other again. It wasn't love at first sight, I'd felt another sensation, much stronger, of immeasurable energetic intensity. I could feel it, my entity was complete and balanced thanks to him. He was the masculine, aggressive, nervous part of me, while I was the feminine, gentle part of him. There was no need for words, we just knew that we were connected. Our souls communicated and danced. He was me.

Our story began that famous evening, the night we came together for life and death. The love and the wounds only grew. Suguru wanted to be me at all costs, he felt the need, his love was suffocating, but I needed it to live. I was afraid, afraid of so much love, and all I could think about was running away from it. I used to adapt to the people I met. Knowing that someone could see through all that and knew me better than I knew myself scared me.

I felt as if I'd known him all my life, because in the end, we were each other. Our souls became one, growing and maturing with us. To be honest, the relationship was devastating for both him and me. Emotionally, I'll never get over it. We hurt each other psychologically on purpose to see who could hurt the other the hardest. We couldn't stay apart for more than two days, it was insurmountable. I felt like my whole being was leaving with him and I wasn't myself anymore. I needed him like I needed no one else.

Suguru was ready to sacrifice himself for me,

and he did.

He knew that the relationship was toxic, it was never healthy. But the separation was so destructive that we tried to stay together.

One evening, I was on the bus coming home from work. I caught myself in tachycardia, I was shaking, I couldn't breathe. In fact, I was having an panick attack, something had happened to Suguru. I got off at the next stop and ran on and on, shouting "Suguru". I cried and cried. I knew that Suguru had stayed at home that day and I had to get there. When I got to the front of his appartment, I was scared to open the door. Once in the living room, I saw him lying on the floor. His breathing had stopped and he had no pulse. There was a letter on the table, and I knew immediately. He had committed suicide. I picked up the letter, my tears wouldn't stop, my hands were shaking and I found myself unable to breathe.

"Thank you for crossing my path, you're everything that's most important to me, unfortunately you and I both know that love isn't enough in this kind of relationship. You were me and I saw you suffering, it was unbearable. I didn't want to go through your abandonment a second time. By doing that, I saved myself, I saved us."

I had just lost my soul. He was my blessing as well as my curse, he was my success as well as my failure, he was me and I was him. He was the other part of my soul. Our souls became one. Geto Suguru, you were my other half. When I lost Suguru, I died with my eyes open.

A few days later, I found myself at the funeral of my other half, my one and only. After the ceremony, I stood for hours in front of his grave, wondering "what have I done?" .

A hand came to rest on my shoulder and the man next to me said that love is the most twisted curse of them all.

Hi! first post here, english isn’t my first language so i use google traduction to help me, if there are any grammatical errors i’m sorry!!

i don’t really know how tumblr works but you can reblog and comment i you liked it!

[raineandsky]

#49

“You’ll have my back, right?” the villain asks hopefully.

They’re leading the way, through twisting corridors and up long flights of stairs. Their henchman is trailing along behind them, not even keeping track of which way they're going. They’re going to the supervillain’s office. That’s all they gleaned from the villain’s excitable speech before they set off.

“Of course,” the henchman reassures with a smile. “Always.”

The supervillain’s office looks like a slightly eviller version of a normal office. It’s just a bit darker than average, black and red instead of pasty grey. The supervillain himself is sitting at his desk, slightly raised off the main floor like some sort of incredibly mundane throne.

“I’m glad you’re here, [Villain],” he opens flatly, as if he doesn’t really mean it. “Shut the door.”

The henchman slips through behind the villain, offering a quick grin of confidence as they pass. The supervillain raises an eyebrow at their appearance.

“I think you’ll find this is a private conversation, [Villain],” he adds pointedly as they shut the door behind them.

The villain frowns like this is obvious. “Won’t tell a soul, sir.”

The supervillain’s gaze flits lazily to the henchman, who is trying very hard to disappear into the corner of the room as any good henchman should. “You brought a subordinate.”

“Oh.” The villain turns to glance at the henchman, throwing them a quick smile. “Yeah, they’re good.”

The supervillain narrows his eyes like it’s a challenge. “Last chance.”

His expression does nothing to shift the innocence in the villain’s. “I’d like them here, actually.”

The supervillain lets his eyes slip back to the villain, his contempt clear in his face, but after a moment he relaxes, almost smug. “Very well.”

He finally leans back from the papers sitting in front of him, resting his hands on the polished ivory desk. “Your work has been lacking recently, [Villain],” he starts sombrely, and even from here the henchman can see how the villain deflates at the bluntness of it. “Our plans are often falling short because you aren’t doing your bit.”

“I– I’m trying,” the villain defends feebly. “I’ve had a lot going on. I can’t keep with it, I’m—”

“Do you think your schedule will matter when the heroes take half of us down because of an error you made?”  The villain stays quiet, their entire figure wilting, so the supervillain happily fills the silence. “Your mistakes are tallying up remarkably fast. I expect to see your behaviour remedied within this next week.”

His gaze flits to the henchman again, his mouth ever-so-slightly upturned into a disgusting smirk. “And don’t bring your lapdog to a private meeting next time. It makes you look weak.”

The villain turns back to glance at the henchman and their face pulls like they’re trying not to cry. “I’m sorry, sir,” they say quietly when they turn back, stifling a hiccuping sob. “I was– I was just—”

“Scared? Needing moral support?” the supervillain finishes harshly, and from the way the villain’s shoulders hunch it’s obvious the tears haven’t stayed back. “You’re pathetic. Get your shit together this week or you’re gone.”

He turns back to the papers on the desk like the conversation is over. The villain stares at him for a moment before turning away, motioning for the henchman to follow suit. One look at the kicked-puppy expression and poorly repressed snivels are all the henchman needs to burst into action. The villain seems to suddenly feel something other than despair when the henchman stalks past them and up towards the supervillain.

“[Henchman]—” is all they get to before the henchman’s hands slam against the desk, much to the supervillain’s barely concealed surprise.

“Excuse you?” he manages once his expression is back to nonchalance.

“Take it back,” the henchman demands, earning another blasé eyebrow raise. “[Villain] is not weak, or pathetic.”

His expression turns humoured. “Oh, the lapdog is for moral support!” He laughs ecstatically, and the henchman feels a light hand on their arm.

“Thank you, [Henchman], but it’s okay,” the villain whispers a little desperately, but the henchman’s not done. They carefully shrug their hand away, throwing them a soft glance that they hope conveys let me help you before turning coldly back to the supervillain.

“You think you’re so special because you sit in an office all day and do fuck all,” the henchman spits, much to the villain’s audible dismay, “but I know you could never do what they do. You complain about their performance at their worst when you couldn’t even match them at your best.”

“I sit in an office all day because I’m running this place,” the supervillain reminds them coldly, and the henchman scoffs with disrespect he likely hasn’t seen in a long time.

“And yet you’d be nothing without people like us doing everything for you. You think you can throw your weight around because everyone bows down to you, but I don’t.” The henchman huffs in annoyance, finally leaning back. “If you try to get rid of [Villain], you get rid of me, too.”

The supervillain grins as if it's an easy decision. “Then say your goodbyes.”

“But I’m the best lapdog you have around here.” The henchman’s expression twists into a sneer. “I was top of the league as a support to all the villains I helped. You lose me, you’re just stuck with a bunch of asshole villains who think they’re too good to ever be like me. Do you know what happens when a bunch of assholes trying to be the main character try to do anything on their own?”

“I can replace you,” the supervillain says quickly, and the henchman knows they’re backing him into a corner.

“I’m the best this place has seen in years. We’ll say our goodbyes, but good fucking luck surviving without us.” They turn on their heel, happily done with the conversation. “Let’s go, [Villain].”

The villain glances in horror between the two, stunned speechless, but a quick nudge from the henchman sets them into motion. The henchman opens the door for them at the end of the room, and it’s only then that the supervillain suddenly pipes up, his voice uncharacteristically hurried.

“I won’t dispose of you, [Villain],” he calls with fake confidence, earning pause from the pair in the doorway, “but I still expect improvement.”

“Y–Yes, sir,” the villain mumbles with a short nod, and with that the door shuts behind them.

The villain waits until they’re a little way down the corridor before they speak. “Holy shit!” they announce finally, grinning as they swipe at the last of the tears in their eyes. “[Henchman], you maniac! Oh, my god, thank you, thank you so much—”

“It’s alright, [Villain],” they offer with a bright smile. “I said I’d have your back.”

[psych0cherry]

Spend eternity with me.(Douma x F! Reader)

Synopsis: Since you were a little girl, you served the temple of Douma, out of respect for your family's tradition. However, something inside you always felt that place was not as welcoming as it should be. One night, unable to sleep, you decided to take a wander through the temple. It was then that his eyes captured a half-open door, with soft lighting coming from within. Driven by curiosity, you peeked through that gap and witnessed a terrible spectacle: Master Douma devouring a woman of dazzling beauty, now lifeless.

Warnings: Douma is an asshole, Masochism, sadomasochism, humiliation, Blood and death, Self-mutilation,Sexual Slave,a little sex, maybe chains, Handcuffs, thorns or something like that. Rea,d at your own risk, lol.

Disclaimer: I'm Brazilian and I don't speak English! This is all translated from Google translator, so maybe there might be some errors.

Each day that passed in the temple seemed repetitive, a cycle that subtly involved and frustrated you. However, daring to defy the will of her strict family was a burden she preferred not to carry. It wasn't that her life was devoid of comfort, it was just steeped in monotony. Contrary to most people there, you didn't find a sense of welcome in that place, nor did you feel comfortable confessing and making requests to the Master of the Temple, Douma-Sama. Not that you suspected his existence, because it was impossible to deny his angelic and mesmerizing presence, with his rainbow-colored eyes, truly enchanting. However, an inexplicable apprehension accompanied her whenever she found herself in Douma's presence. A shiver ran down her spine as those piercing eyes delved into her soul. It was undeniable that Master Douma understood the fear you harbored for him. And that smile that crossed your lips when you revealed such fear was far from conveying any comfort.

The night enveloped you in its icy mantle, while you struggled in bed in search of a comfortable position to finally rest. Minutes seemed to drag on in endless agony. The night air was merciless, making the blanket never enough, and this realization was beginning to frustrate him. With a sigh, you got up, grabbing the first thick piece of clothing you found and leaving the coziness of the room where you slept. With no specific destination in mind, he walked through the halls of the majestic temple.

The decor was truly stunning, a testament to the hard work of the temple servants in keeping everything spotless. It was a real treat for the eyes. You gently ran your fingertips over some of the antique and meaningful paintings that adorned the walls, allowing a soft smile to escape.

"This one is magnificent..." He murmured while admiring one painting in particular, in which the artist had portrayed Douma-Sama himself with overwhelming talent. For a brief moment, you allowed yourself to admire the portrayed figure... Douma was truly beautiful. It was impossible to deny it. However, because you imagined him to be some kind of deity, you always felt impure when you had such thoughts. I preferred, therefore, to put aside these uncomfortable reflections.

A distraction interrupted his contemplation of the painting, when his eyes caught a glow coming from one of the rooms of the temple, even with the door almost closed. Intrigued, her attention was captivated by the mysterious murmurs and whispers that floated through the air. Although instinct told you to stay away, curiosity aroused within you, and with light, stealthy steps, you approached the door, allowing your eyes to see each other through a small gap, curious to see what was going on. But what he witnessed inside made his skin instantly pale, and his eyes widen in disbelief. No... it couldn't be true. Before his eyes, Douma was satiated with the flesh of a beautiful woman's legs, while the surrounding scenery was stained with scarlet blood, and an icy wind ran through the environment. In that instant, you finally realized: Douma was not merely human, nor was he a divine entity. Douma was a demon.

The dark encounter with the true face of Douma awakened a mixture of horror and a fascination that you could not understand within you. From that moment on, a kind of Incomprehensible bond between you and the Master of the Temple. He became aware of his presence, staring at him with intense eyes, revealing an enigmatic smile on pale lips. His voice, seductive and icy, echoed in the room:

"Oh... Y/n! I remember your face clearly, one of my most charming servants in the Temple..." A laugh escaped my lips. "I see you've discovered my secret... Don't look at me like that, even though your fearful eyes are magnificently beautiful. It's hard to believe I've shattered your innocence... How mean of me!"

His heart was racing, a combination of fear and overwhelming attraction was what propelled you into the room. The surroundings carried a dark presence as Douma's bloodied hands reached towards him. He personified sin itself, wrapped in hellish charm. You didn't understand why you were so attracted to him. This was so wrong, so scary. However, Douma seemed to revel in the confusion that stirred within the woman. He threw the legs of the woman he was devouring to the side as if they were insignificant, and made an inviting gesture for you to approach her, patting your thigh lightly indicating that you should sit there. You didn't fully understand when her legs started to move towards him, but before you knew it, you were sitting on her thigh.

Douma, with an intense gaze, ran his cold, bloodstained hand along her thighs, whispering tantalizingly in her ear, "Unexpected, isn't it? I didn't think you'd enjoy witnessing such a scene..." One smile formed on his lips as he approached you. You tried to articulate words, but your vocal chords seemed to fail. You were motionless, in shock. Douma laughed when he noticed his reaction. "Who knew you'd be such a helpful servant! You'll be in charge of cleaning all this up for me, right? It's nice to have someone who doesn't mind by my side!" Gently, he stroked her hair as if she were a child. It looked like Douma was enjoying the fact that you were attracted to something so grotesque and absurd. He enjoyed every moment of it. "You are so beautiful... A blessing in my eyes. Would you allow me to have fun with you?" His hands continued to caress her hair affectionately, until, suddenly, he abruptly pulled some locks, causing an expression of pain on her face. The sudden pull on his hair brought a mixture of pain and pleasure, awakening contradictory sensations within you. As his face expressed discomfort, Douma smirked, as if savoring his every reaction. He gently leaned against you, and licked your cheek.

Douma was humiliating the woman, using her as a mere object. This situation was suffocating. Feeling powerless in front of him caused overwhelming discomfort, and the fact that she was starting to enjoy feeling inferior to him aroused disgust in herself. However, how could you avoid it? His hair was pulled sharply, causing him not a moan of pleasure, but of pain. Douma's intention was really to hurt her. A shiver ran down his spine as he felt her tongue slide across the skin of his cheek.

"Today, you will serve me in a special way." Douma held the woman's waist and brought her legs together, accommodating her in his lap. She faced him. With just the flick of his index finger, through his pointed nails, the fabric covering her breasts was cut away, partially revealing her skin. Douma licked her collarbone and, without warning, nibbled the skin above her breasts with his sharp demon teeth. The woman twitched due to the terrible sensation of pain, but Douma held her firmly, licking the blood that oozed from the wound. "Be quiet, darling. It's not you who needs to be pleasured tonight, it's me. It would be a waste not to enjoy such incredible beauty as yours... I know you like that, don't you?"

"Master Douma..." The woman finally found the strength to say something, her voice trembling with pain, a typical human reaction. Tears flooded her eyes, unable to discern if it was due to the pain, the feeling of being humiliated without being able to do anything, or perhaps the terrible pleasure she didn't want to feel. "Y-You are a monster from hell... However, I would never deny you anything..." She knew that she had no choice but to accept her condition. Douma looked satisfied with her submission.

"I knew you'd be so obedient, Y/n! We'll have fun tonight... How about you cut yourself for me? I'd love that! But first, get down and lick my shoe. I want you to recognize your place, even though I know you're inferior to me. If I like you, I'd love for you to spend eternity with me. I could chain you too... You would look beautiful in chains for me. I could use thorns to bind you too, that's a good idea, seeing the thorns pierce your skin would be magnificent."

"Eternity with you…?" She asked as tears trickled down her skin. Douma removed her from his lap, making her kneel before him. Gripping her hair rather roughly, he was about to force her to bend over before answering.

"Eternity."

[janec23]

I found this exercise and I gave it a go ^^ Prompt: take a snippet of one of your wip and change the PoV of your OC.

I decided to go from third person to first. This excerpt is from The ritual and the protagonist is Renewa. TW: mention of death, translation errors

I didn’t kill Haley Gerther. 

I cling to this realization with all the strength left from my already fragile sanity as I bend slightly, just enough for old Madriel to reach me. I see her body tense on tiptoe as she rests a wreath of flowers on my head. Her hands tremble in an effort to keep her balance, they're furrowed with wrinkles as deep as her resentment for me, but I will not facilitate her task, as she did not facilitate mine. 

I remain impassive, trying to dominate my gaze, not wanting to give her the satisfaction of seeing me broken, but when she whispers good luck by breathing her rancid, herbaceous-toned breath into my face, I can't stop myself from wrinkling my nose. The peppermint will never be able to hide her addiction to belligera leaves, just as the cloak they laid over my shoulders will never be able hide the tremor in my bones or the shiver of disgust I have for her.

Yet, in her milky eyes clouded by opiates, I discern no malice—only a mute plea for forgiveness. Still, I cannot forgive her for the curse she has imposed on me.

I didn’t kill Haley Gerther. It wasn’t me.

I rise to my feet with a jerk, pulling my shoulders back relieving the knot I feel forming at the base of my neck. I can’t deny that I’m tense. One of the elders begins smoothing the fabric of the cloak, the one given to me by the Garridurs. Despite the soft, light fabric it weighs on me as if I am carrying my own chains. 

I adjust it over my bare shoulders: it’ll be my only protection from the stares of the entire village.

I draw in a deep breath and reach out a hand to peel back the flap of the tent, a gust of wind blows across my face. I feel the knot between my shoulder blades descend to stop at the base of my back where a drop of sweat is forming. 

I advance slowly on the torch-lit path, long shadows thicken on either side of me, but I do not dare to turn around. I know they are all here, I know they are all staring at me, I can feel their suspended breaths, their eyes filled with silent judgment.

The air is thick, pregnant with a dampness that attacks my nostrils but fails to relieve the sweetish smell of the herbal balms sprinkled on my body. Extracts of wild sage and amadora berries, judging by the pungent smell and the thin layer of essential oils left on my skin. A waste of good resources.

I make my way to the pier one step at a time. I vaguely sense the whispers of my fellow citizens, I recognize the words of some prayer I recited with my father as a child, I don’t need their pity, for I know my soul is not damned as they would like me believe.

I did not kill Haley Gerther. She made her choice.

Something tickles my ankle as I squeeze into my cloak to make sure my half-naked body is not exposed to their gaze. Something dances before my eyes: rose petals. I know who is throwing them and my heart leaps, that idiot should be in our lab… his lab to finish the concoctions, not here wishing me to survive.

I hasten my pace as I reach the small pier in the half-light, the torches are almost at their limit, dying in the mist rising from the river. The village chief advances, looking at me with composed satisfaction. I know I’ve done nothing wrong to deserve this curse, and despite his dark eyes attempting to force mine lower, reminding me of my boldness, I stand firm, for I know I’m in the right.

He murmurs a few words that I can barely hear before letting go.

The boat beckons as I prepare to step into it, first one foot to steady my weight, then the other trying to find a balance that eludes me. Out of the corner of my eye I notice the helmsman extend a hand, his dark figure silhouetted against the dim torchlight. I decline his invitation, not because I don't need to, but I don't want to give anyone the satisfaction of seeing me frail and sluggish.

I did not kill Haley Gerther. It was she who reached out her trembling hands to the nightstand beside her bed and took the belladonna extract.

I just closed the door, quietly, and left her to her fate.

[crimsontroupe]

🕯️ dia and ellie, bonus round for his thoughts before he learned his dad's a loser @thronelessking

"A flash of blue. Cold eyes that pierces through your soul. Colder hands."

The dragon speaks to no one. The vast empty room, books about subjects both too easy and too complex for him. If his father bothered to listen in, he would. But he does not. After all, there is no value in listening to pointless conversation. One would need to be relevant first.

"A terrifying presence. Something stirring. Inside me, crying out. I do not get it. It warns of obvious danger. I know.

I know. I know. I saw him kill and dispose of people. They have no value to him. Nothing but magic and science does."

'Which is why you dedicate yourself so much to it', a nagging voice seems to say the obvious inside his head. 'You do not want to die', it continues. 'So you better be good at everything that makes you valuable.'

Otherwise he will dispose of you. Like the rest.

The second voice is unknown to him. The second voice is not heard. The second, third, fourth and fifth voice knows more than they should. So they do not speak to Dia, not directly. They act by moving his hand to the doorknob, an impulse to run. Impulse that is not followed, as the sorcerer stays firmly planted on the space he currently occupies. Stubborn fool.

"Wings that would eclipse and devour the mountains. Steps to follow. The starry sky blotted out by black ink. The triumphant way lightning roars. My goal." And just like that, these same voices plead for the doll to tear apart his books and run. He will find you anyway, they talk to each other. Bury you deep underground withtheotherswiththeotherswiththemforeverwiththem

Dia flinches, an intrusive memory making its way through him. A dark, humid cave. Mud, hands. Blood. Screams. He shakes his head, pushing these thoughts away.

"I have to study. My lessons start in less than half an hour. He will be expecting me."

Trial and error. One misstep and you will join us, and even if you are not aware of anything - your soul and body know - of the harm we are all complicit in. The tragedy of the tyrant and the bloodstained gemstone.

[freshmilko]

Southern "Russian" tea (hint it's not really Russian)

This is an old church community recipe that's way better than anything I can find online. It makes a really warming, delicious spicy citrus juice/tea. It's similar in soul to a spiced cider, but I think a million times tastier. And it's so easy, there's really no way to mess it up and everything is available at an average USAmerican grocery store.

It takes about 45 minutes, but most of that time you can leave it simmering. It's very low effort, you only need to stand for about 5 minutes in this process.

This makes a bit over a gallon, it fits in a large pitcher, or medium if you pour yourself a big mug fresh. Meant to be hot, but I find it's really refreshing cold too.

Saves for a little less than a week in the fridge before the taste goes off, but I'm pretty sure I've drank it past a week without issue 🤡

Ingredients:

1 quart water

4-8 cinnamon sticks (varies on size and how much you like cinnamon

1 teaspoon whole cloves

6-8 bags black tea (depends on size of tea bags, 6 for family size and 8 for single serving size

2/3 cup white sugar (you can add more up to a full cup if you want)

46oz can of pineapple juice(it's bigger than you think)

Frozen 12oz can of orange juice(or fresh, sizes of cans vary and it don't matter)

Steps:

1. Add water, cinnamon, and cloves to a pot and heat to a simmer. Let simmer for 30 minutes.

2. Remove from heat and add tea bags, let steep for 10 minutes.

3. Strain out solids, then pour in sugar and mix.

4. Mix in pineapple juice and orange juice and BOOM YOU'RE DONE

Common errors include oversteeping the tea, in that case just simply don't add all the tea concentrate to your mixture! You can remove half the concentrate, set it aside, then follow the rest of the recipe with the other half. Taste to see if it's strong enough, and add more until you find a nice balance that isn't bitter.

If you oversteep the cinnamon and cloves, it's just better so congratulations you accidentally leveled it up.

Chai tea bag + lil but of brown sugar + apple cider packet + 16 oz. mug of hot but not quite boiling water

it will not Fix You but like. maybe. maybe.

[missingdragonflies]

BRAIN PACE 

Breaking News: Your mind and body don’t get along!

Is everything happening in your head so fast and so many times that the actions get compromised? You procrastinate? 

Your brain is constantly showing off to all your other limbs and organs how fast it is, that everything else gets disheartened. It’s time to show the show off who is boss. 

A theory: half of our issues (at least productivity issues) could be solved if we face and modulate our brain’s pace. 

For example, when we manage to get onto a project, and get into the mood to do it (it takes six months to a year to get here sometimes), our brain then gets into overdrive. You are knocking it out on the laptop, breaking it down in the shower, losing sleep or not sleeping and then some. It’s out of control and takes over. 

Then we slump. Procrastinate. The rest of the limbs and organs are out for revenge. What could you possibly do if we don’t move? We protest. Whenever we can.

The thoughts, ideas, all cascade downwards to die. You stop. Exhausted. You are paralysed. 

Of course you are. Your mind and body aren’t friends. They are competing and you side your mind in this squabble between your two children. 

I am proposing a sweet unison. Don’t mistake this for your brain’s dictatorship moments when you have achieved something. I am proposing a constant. Something perhaps athletes know about or have figured. I don’t know. 

Aren’t you tired of fluctuating between thinking about the next project to not doing anything about it. Just spurts of being on a high, intense productivity. 

We aren’t stupid. We know the excitement the action brings. We also know the snug pillow and a hot coffee in bed. How then, do we also know the feeling of mentally doing things and sometimes multiple times without moving a limb. Verbatim - we have had conversations with clients. Perhaps taking up more time compared to actually doing it. Visually - we can see the deck, the video, down to the track. We can hear it. All sorted out in our heads. And the mind keeps blaming the body. You do too. Lazy. Useless. 

I am saying, let’s try controlling the mind. While we task our bodies, we hardly ever task the mind. “Calm down” and “Stop thinking” is as good as saying, “Run,” “Jump.”

While you may be lazy, your mind is getting boisterous, threatening the rest of your body. You think a thought and then an essay, you journal it in your head. Words flow non-stop. You can’t always write it down. Your mind hisses, ‘if you don’t it’s gone. You useless shit. Don’t do anything. You will never be a writer.”

You don’t enjoy your lounging, you don’t write. 

Our mind will always work faster than the body. Sure. One sprints, the other marathons. The problem: our mind and body are out of sync. We mess up most conversations, make all these errors, skip words because our brain pace is getting ahead of us. Even now as I write, it is. Perhaps the brain is also out to throw some punches for the lack of action. 

In the end, the soul suffers. 

Here is how this might work; at least for productivity. The next time you are writing, reading, or talking to that vendor in your head, you pause and romanticise whatever it is you are doing. Lather, rinse, repeat. Music on the tube. Smell the air. And when that little birdie in your head pecks and tells you ‘the idea will disappear, the flow will go, you are so angry, this will be the end of your career,’ say I CONTROL YOU. Both of you. If I can make this body run, I can make this mind pause. 

I will face this track and jot things down when I am ready, so you better save it for that. Brew some more, keep it in a pressure cooker, and when I am ready for all the goodness, I will pop it open. 

Your thoughts, your ideas, your pace. You are in control. Remember, “not ready right now, in a minute.” No threats. No tantrums.  

I thought of the brain pace and aligning it to all my other organs while in the shower. The idea was in my head, while I could physically do nothing about it expect wear it out, over play it or rush my shower for fear of losing my journal entry for the day. 

None of that happened. 

I took a much longer shower. Didn’t think about it as much as I could. Distracted myself. More words flew out. 

Pace your mind. Rush your body. No favouritism. 

Regards,

Your Soul