#and then the membrane forms a bubble around them and lets them in

[maelstrom007]

The Newcomer

From @ghouljams cod fae!au, Mal gets bugged by someone new.

Mal sat on the floor of their shop, large stone mortar and pestle between their legs as they ground madder roots for dyeing. Their mind was carefully blank, constructing the most neutral emotional state as possible, so as not to impart any one particular intent on the dye goods. In a lot of cases, Mal had to harvest and process things prior to knowing what they would actually be used for. This meant they’d had plenty of practice over the years in imparting as neutral an intent as possible on the goods they kept stocked.

The sound of the madder root slowly grinding into a powder against the aged stone was a familiar one, and Mal could pick out exactly when the powder was good enough by sound alone, going gradually from the popping and crushing of whole roots to the gentle hiss of smooth powder between ancient stones. But it wasn’t there yet. 

Mal felt a presence brush against the open curtains outside their shop, before there was a gentle knock at the door. They were in the zone though, mind blissfully blank, and felt no urgency to get the door. Afterall, the madder wasn’t finished yet. Large chunks still remained interspersed amongst the finer powder, which just wouldn’t do. 

By the time they were done, enough time had passed to cause the shadows to noticeably shift in the shop. They only felt a little bad at the prospect of having lost a customer, afterall their commission log stayed quite full these days. Cleaning up, Mal poured the fresh madder into its glass jar and found a spot for it on the large, over cluttered shelves along the wall of the shop. Preserved and processed dye plants from all over the world found their cozy home among these shelves. 

They felt the gentle brush of a presence against the wards of their shop once again, making them jump slightly. It felt familiar, like the one from earlier in the day, but that seemed unreasonable. Who would have waited this long? Witch could let herself in, and this felt different from that codependent pair, Love and Ghost. 

When Mal opened the door, they saw a handsome fae idly playing with the fabric of the exterior shop curtains. At the sound of the door he whipped around, as if caught with his hand in the cookie jar, and smiled sheepishly. 

“Sorry about that, the craftsmanship is just amazing I couldn’t help myself. Did you make these?” 

“I did,” Mal said, “are you the one from earlier?”

“Oh yeah, I didn’t mind waiting though, you seemed busy.”

Huh. “Are you looking to come in?” 

His smile brightened, “If you don’t mind. I’ve heard such good things about your work.” 

“You’re welcome in, for this transaction,” Mal said, opening the door wider and feeling the ward surround him like a bubble as he slipped inside. He looked around the shop with wonder, full to the brim with textiles, fiber, dyestuffs, and more. Seemingly forgetting they were there, he strolled around the shop gently touching and admiring everything on display. 

Eventually Mal’s patience wore out. They cleared their throat, losing their train of thought for a second when he swiftly turned his head, giving them his full attention. His eyes were a warm brown, almost yellowish in the afternoon light, and his gaze felt heavy with. . .something.

Quickly recovering, they said, “So, did you have something you were looking for?” Mal really wanted to say ‘What do you want’, but decades spent getting coached by friends on ‘social niceties’ taught them that that would seem ‘rude’. He joined Mal at the high counter top that doubled as a crafting and consultation station, resting his elbows against it and settling in. His eyes were even more brilliant up close. 

He sighed through his nose, pursing his lips in thought before saying, “No, not really.”

Mal’s eyebrows furrowed, “What?”

He shrugged, “There’s not really anything I’m looking for right now.”

“Then why did you come in? Don’t you have something you want? A new obscura, protective wear?” 

“Nope,” he said, popping the ‘p’. A small smile bloomed on his face, seemingly amused at their confusion. 

“Then why are you here?” 

He swung his arms open wide, once again taking in the splendor of the shop, “Like I said, I’ve heard such good things about you and your work, and I've peered into your shop once or twice while I've been out and about. I just had to come in and. . .”

Once again he dropped down onto his elbows, leaning over the counter slightly. His eyes quickly flickered up and down, before staring straight into their eyes, “. . .see what all the fuss is about.” 

Mal hummed, oblivious to the once over and took a look at the clock, “Well, I hope your perusal was satisfactory, the shop is closing soon. For future reference it would be helpful to have some kind of idea when you come in.” 

As the clock struck the hour, the ward that had bubbled around the newcomer constricted slightly and his eyes briefly flashed with shock and alarm. It wasn’t a dangerous pressure (yet), but it was uncomfortable and seemed to be pressing most towards the direction of the door. 

He flashed Mal a dashing smile as he walked backwards towards the door, aided by the ward to keep him from knocking anything over, “I’ll be seeing you around then.” 

He winked, and the door shut behind him with a satisfying click.

[lingering-42-long]

Gentle touch

König x female reader

As much as I love Simon ghost Riley I also really love König. He’s such an anxious big guy. I wanted to do a Story on him and hopefully I’ll do more in the future. I was also feeling kind of mopey so I wanted to write something comforting. I wanted to try my hand at first person. Enjoy!

Warnings: woman’s menstrual cycle, blood, self-insecurities, mountain man freaking out, simping over his girl, fluff

I woke up around 3:46 am in pain, my lower region felt like a serrated hot knife was stabbing it relentlessly. I groaned as I tried to roll over to stop the pain in someway shape or form. Nothing was helping. I looked over my sleeping mountain of a man. König, The tall Austrian was passed out next to me, Curled up around pillows and blankets as he cocoon himself from the world. Another stabbing pain injected its self into mean as I winced and clutched at my stomach area. I ground and pull the sheets back and silently cursing as I saw a huge dark red blood stain on the blue sheets that I had just bought not two months ago.

I hobbled my way into the bathroom as I began to start a nice hot bath to help relieve my cramps. I decided to add some bath salts and bubbles to at least help with the healing. Everything was so tense my body was shaking due to the pain. Taking off my shirt and spoiled pants I dipped into the hot water and relaxed with a sigh. It was nice to finally be able to relieve some of the pain, though it was still there, the hot water was helping.

Meanwhile… (König’s 3rd person pov)

König woke up shortly after (y/n) had gone into the bathroom. He was a little parched and wanted some water to quench his thirst.

He noticed the bathroom light was on but thought little about it, (y/n) must be in there. He did not want to disturb her.

He pulled the sheets back and saw something dark on her side. Looking at the spot more closely he saw it was a large patch of blood. König gasped and quickly got out of bed to the washroom. “Liebling!!! I saw blood, are you hurt?!?!” Panic rose in his chest ad the thought of you injured made him sick.

( (Y/n)’s 1st person pov)

“Liebling!!! I saw blood, are you hurt?!?!” I heard my sweet boyfriend’s muffled call on the other side of the door.

“Yes I’m fine just in pain” I winced as the imaginary knife stabbed me once more. “Owww” I moaned as I tried to reposition myself in the warm water.

“Mein Schatz…. May I come in?” He asked

“If you want too” I groaned.

The door slowly opened as König began to take in the situation. He saw me in the tub looking like I was getting gutted and the bloody mess of clothes that laid by the toilet. “Scheisse.” he murmured and knelt by the tub next to me. “Ve need to get you to the hospital vight now!”

“No no that won’t be necessary.” I winced

“But your bleeding!” Fear and sheer panic was on his face. I cupped the side of his cheek and smiled tiredly, “It’s ok honey. This is normal.”

“How is this normal?!” His eyes widened.

“At least let me see.”

“No. Absolutely no” I vigorously shook my head.

“Liebe, I need to see! Your hurt! I don’t even know where your bleeding from.” He was trying to coax me out of the hot, soapy water. “I know where.” I grumbled and sank back into the water.

“Do you not trust me?” König looked sad now. He felt like shit not knowing what was wrong.

“Hunny, do you know what a menstrual cycle is?”

“Hardly. I am familiar with the term. The woman sometimes get them.”

“Ok, women usually get them every month, and we… shed our uterus membrane as a way of cleaning ourselves.

My man just sat there blinking.

“It’s painful, it feels like birthing jellyfish.”

König winced, “but the blood?”

“A woman can loose as much as 44.36 ml (3 tbsp)”

“Scheisse! It looks so much more on the bed” he winced

I groaned, “I forgot about it… could you do me a few favors?” I asked.

“Certainly! Anything for you.” König smiled a bit as he was finally glad he could help. The man could barely sit still for no more than two minutes. “ Could you first change the sheets on the bed and put fresh new ones and take the sheets that are spoiled and put them in the wash machine? Then could you get me a glass of water and my ibuprofen? The The bottle is clear with the big words ibuprofen written on the side in the medicine cabinet. Also can you get me fresh Sleepwear? All of these are spoiled and can you get me a pad? You can set it with the clothes as well.” As I was speaking I could tell König was taking a mental note of everything.

“Ok Liebling, I vill be right back. Stay there.” He leaned over and kissed my head. I gave him a tired smile. “Thank you. You have no idea what this means to me.”

“Please, mein Täubchen, I am more than happy to tend to your needs” He got up to get the things done.

“Oh one more thing… sorry” I blushed slightly.

“Ja?” He turned around and looked at me.

“Could you get a hot water bottle going for me. They’re in the medicine cabinet as well. They’re red you can’t miss them they’re on the bottom shelf. Fill the kettle up with water and once it’s boiling put the water in the water bottle. Could you also wrap it in a towel? They get too hot sometimes.”

“Ja of corse.” He nodded and walked out. I sighed and did what I could to relax.

I listened to the noises around me. I could hear König shuffling around our flat, doing the various tasks that I requested. I could hear him shuffle around the bedroom stripping the beds, and then I could also hear him opening up the drawer to my dresser, and picking out pajamas. I heard him walking to the kitchen, and also I could hear the washing machine turn on, followed by a few minutes of quiet, then the kettle singing; König turning off the sound and quite presumably pouring the hot water into the bottle. Sure enough, shortly after that, I heard a sharp cry “Scheisse!”

I winced. He probably pored to fast and burned his hand. I felt really bad for making him do all of this at now 4 in the morning.

It was about 30 or so minutes later when he finally came back with a glass of water, a pill, a hot water bottle, new clothes, and a pad.

“Sorry it took me so long the water got my hand.”

I sighed “I’m so sorry for making you do this you should be in bed, it’s my shit not yours.”

“Vhat?! Nein! Don’t say that!” König handed me the glass and pill. “I wanted to do this for you. Your in pain. I hate seeing you in pain. I will do anything at any time, to make sure your ok.” He sat next to the tub and smiled at me “Your the best thing that has ever happened to me, how could I not take care of Sie.”

This was most this man had spoken in a wile. He was a quiet soul but in the privacy of his home, he could be quiet the chatter box.

I had tears forming at my eyes and I sniffed. “Oh don’t cry meine Liebe.” He stroked my chin “Ich liebe dich zu sehr, um dich weinen zu sehen.” I nodded and swallowed the pill with the water. “I’m sorry my hormones are all over the place… could you help up.”

He offered his arms and hands for me to grab on. As I took them, he carefully hoisted me up to my feet. I twinge of pink, dusted his cheeks as he avoided looking at my body. “Ummm h-here is Y-your Towel.” König’s shy, bashful self came out as he handed me a towel. “I’ll be in the bedroom.” He quickly left me for my privacy. I would have laughed at his shyness if I wasn’t still in pain.

I came out a few minutes later in my pjs and found him sitting on the edge of our bed fidgeting with the strings on his sleeping pants. “Hey big guy” I smiled as I laid down next to his sitting form. This broke him out of his trance and he stared at me. “Hello Schön.” König glanced at me, now one lamp was on so the room was lit better to see each other.

“It still hurts” I groaned and closed my eyes.

“Vat can I do?” He asked not sure if there was anything he could do more to take my pain away.

“Could you rub down here? Please? If not it will be ok.”

“Y-you vant me to r-rub were?” His eyes opened wider as he seemed nervous.

“Right here, under the stomach, where my ovaries are. Massaging really helps. If your too uncomfortable with it-“

“ nein, nein, I can do it.” His face was a deep shade of crimson. As he placed his hands awkwardly on me just above my hips. “O-ok where?”

“OK hold me as if you’re keeping my hips down in sex.” Poor König gave me the ‘deer in the headlights’ look. “Like this.” I just did his thumbs to sit on top of where my ovaries and uterus would be and his other four fingers on the sides of my hip. “There. Like that. Now you can use your thumb to rub in circles, not to deep, right where they are.”

Slowly, König began to massage the areas, carful not to hurt me. “Like this?” He asked, unsure.

“Yes baby just like that. Don’t stop” I groaned in pleasure as I closed my eyes. König smiled a little at this. Happy that his hands could be put to good use in this situation, and he was not going to lie, seeing me lay like this with his hands on me felt… erotic. König shook his head, now was not the time.

After some time the Ibuprofen finally kicked in and I was feeling a lot better. The pain subsided to a dull throb. Now it was around 5 o’clock am. The sun would be rising soon so there was no point in trying to go back to sleep. I just laid there on the bed sideways, with König now massaging my back. He was humming a tune which meant he was content. “I love you” I said out of the blue. I felt a gentle squeeze on my shoulder “Ich liebe dich mehr” I rolled over to face him and smiled, “Can we go cuddle on the couch till the sun comes up?”

“Oh I vood like that” he nodded and without second thought, picked me up like a baby, and carried me to the living room.

He sat down and I snuggled in his lap. He carefully grabbed one of the blankets on the couch and spread it over us, as I was fiddling with the TV remote finding some thing to watch. I fell a kiss on the head and his arm rubbing my shoulder as we settled down to watch some Christmas bake off show.

[moss-bride]

You make me want to believe in love. Chapter: 15

Scp 035 x Reader

The three do this in rotation shifts. Someone is to keep an eye on him at all times. A lord in the house is what they need and she fills those shoes like the step-sisters did Cinderella. As in ill fitting but forcing the foot in.

And in her nightingale watch she drags the TV to his room just for fun. If she's gonna be stuck here, might as well watch her shows. Her popcorn finishes and she grabs it to settle on the couch and ignore the burning stare of the presence inside the shell. Snuggling a blanket.

On the floor at the foot of his bed she lets the channels lights flicker over his cocoon. “It's time to teach you what good television is.”

She makes it to the Spanish section and lands on a famous telenovela named ‘Teresa.’ she queals her excitement.

The episode playing is mid season when Teresa finds out her ex boyfriend (who she broke up with in favor of her highschool professor to escape poverty, don't ask) has become a rich successful doctor and her professor/boyfriend is now poor.

It's messy and a perfect drama watch.

Her mother had clicked off it whenever it came on TV back when it aired because she said that the main star of the show (Teresa) was a loose and immoral woman that she didn't want her daughter to look up to.

Look at her now! She may not be as manipulative as the titular star but she is a thousand times worse.

She drinks heavily in the coming days, sword at her side and gun on her hip. Looking out over the gate from the window of his study and taking a swig.

Her body is lathered with goopy medicine on her burned skin by the palace maesters of healing.

It's an odorless paste that is thankfully less greasy than human lotions. She is told to run it on all skin exposed to Anguish daily and layer think bandages on half her body. The result is her crawling the halls in mummy garb glaring at anything that moves.

Hate burns at the back of her throat and it is the slow creeping of acidic vomit. For herself and everything in existence.

As for him…

The stream of black had stopped and slowly hardened around him. Their entire form is hidden by a shell. Cocooning in an attempt at protection.

She takes a swig of beer and slouches on the chair. Muttering to herself. Then stumbles towards the bed, standing over it.

The slimy pit of them living inside the wet, a faint light emanating amongst the sludge. Perfect for a prop at universal pictures theme park. The new “aliens” production. She swears that there is even a glimpse of their frowning pallid mask.

Giorgia had smacked her hand away when she attempted to touch it last time. Without the maid in the room she creeps closer to the bed.

It's flaky but strong. She pokes at the cocoon,

It lurches in reaction and she snatches her hand back in disgust. “I almost didn't come back.” it is the first words she has said to this thing that is the curdled form of her tormentor.

“You hear me? Could have left you to die for good this time.” she sneers. “But I didn't. Don't know why I -” she cuts herself off and downs a heavy gulp. Slumping against the pole of his four poster bed. Listening to the maid bustle next door.

It's them and her in this room. No anxious Giorgia suspicious at her moves. A mistake on her part.

She zeros in on the door, waiting for an interruption that doesn't come. With no witness she crawls onto the bed. The black silk sheets sticking to her salve.

Splaying one leg over the cocoon, it collapses at her weight by four inches, bubbling and writhing until she can feel the barest form of limbs through the membrane trying to push her off.

A shoulder. A head. A neck. Not much else. On top of it her hands rove and dig into the mesh, stopping when she locates it. The frame of an endoskeleton.

She traces a bandaged hand on the column of his throat. Never noticed how swan-like it is, an elegant stretch that perfectly fits her palm.

In her drunken madness she can't resist. She pushes down. The form of a gasping throat under her hand. Struggling as she tightens her grip, pushes harder with her legs, splayed over his body. The creature that is him within the shell wiggles, sensing on a subconscious level her intent.

Anguish sends her a mental image with the last bit of strength. Her body swinging from a noose. Letting out a jagged bark of a laugh. How funny.

It seems he is partially aware of the comings and goings outside the shell.

She releases her hold and falls back. Staring at the ceiling listlessly.

Her bottle spills on the carpet red fading to black.

Maybe this place has finally claimed her. Slowly becoming one of those lost souls on the street that can barely utter a sentence. They had called that affliction a pestilence.

‘I hold your life in my hands 035. Can you feel it?’

Beside her she feels a drumming, a steady beating thump emanates from them. Turns out he does possess a heart. Or an alien semblance of one. Lungsacks perhaps.

Instead of bursting from its rest, it sat there, silent and mostly dormant. As soon as she leaned her face close, breath brushing the flakes, she observed his signature liquid that oozed from the eye and mouth holes, corrosive and dangerous to touch.

Her hands are too swollen to feel but she frantically thumbs a ridge. “You want to have everything? The king's throne, the universe at your feet? Prove it. Get out.”

His fury was like a living thing, a darkness that grew within him. The pressure built until it spilled forth as he layed helpless in his cocoon

When she addressed him, he didn’t answer with words, but he did acknowledge her presence, and his response was in the form of a mental image, spine-chilling and morbid. As its response echoes through the room, the darkness seems to swallow her whole, leaving her alone to confront the chilling reality of her unconscious companion..

She bursts into laughter. Choking gasps of air. Tossing to the side she buries her head on the decorative pillows. Nothing is funny.

If he was conscious he'd go into a long droning speech about the manner of existence and the perspective of shells on a forgotten beach. Which she'd promptly tune out.

TV playing, her mind continues to wander.

She snoops around the room, looking through his closet and drawers. It's all so tidy and comfy.

Black curtains with crystals trims and a scent of sandalwood

There is a huge window. The one he often stands and looks down at her from the courtyard. The dark sun beams down at her and the sky actually seems charming rather than eyestraining

This book he has in his room must be well loved if he separated it from the ones in his study. She opens a page and sees that the paper is yellowed with age and fragile

‘Sonetti completi di Cecco Angiolieri’

It's written with a flourish of a practiced poet and she knows that that is what this man is.

Most of them are of a man desperately pleading for a woman who spurned his love. Complaining about his wife or his mistress in the same breath. Very smooth and in line with the expectations of men in the 13th century

“Here you were making fun of me for being a romantic! Hypocrite.” She reads the work aloud to this sack of misery beside her. Reserving her snide comments to when he would emerge.

I claim misery as my child,

and I call it my mother too;

I was conceived out of heavy grief,

and my wet-nurse was melancholy,

and my swaddling clothes were a sheet

whose common name is trouble;

from the top of my head to the soles of my feet

there was nothing in me that could be called good.

Then, when I was grown, a wife was given to me

for my refreshment; she talked

from the early morning until the sky was full of stars;

and her talking was like a thousand guitars:

when such a wife dies, if her husband remarries

he has no more brains than a boat of gravy.*

Clicking her teeth and wishing this Cecco guy would get a healthier hobby like gambling. After a while she decides that this book is pretty appropriate material for Anguish

Giorgia interrupts them. Setting down a basket fool of rags and potions to rub on her dearest lord. “What are you doing?”

She turns the page. “I'm just reading to our patient.”

“ Our Lord did not invite you to share his bed. Get. Off.” she’d give anything for the ability to roll her eyes. She stands and sits on a chair instead. Closing the book, she glares at the maid.

Giorgia had been at her wits end but her unchanging mask speaks of another reason.

She gives in and asks. “What is it?” already knowing the answer

“It's White’s messenger again.” Diligence keeps sending them to their doors, expecting that they'll listen to them talk

She waves them away with a scowl. “Until Anguish is healed we will remain on lockdown mode..” she's had to repeat the line at nauseum since the party. It's a headache to say day after day.

Giorgia's stare is long and she returns it with equal force.

“Just continue to make sure no one gets in.”

The people of Anguish’s palace are tense. To be reliving the moment of their masters near death has made them a humorless bunch. The black lord's healing takes its toll and seeps energy from his house. The aether mentioned before is focused to his room at the top of his princessy tall tower. Where he lays waiting for his true loves first kiss to wake him up from the dastardly spell of an evil queen.

Black has his own miniature force of soldiers. A simple platoon. Giorgia told her that the others have vast nations at their disposal and it makes her a bit paranoid.

The servants bring her papers and invitations and cards as if she's the master of the house. Her and Giorgia share the mantle uneasily, deciding the work evenly amongst themselves.

The woman doesn't speak a word to her beyond what is necessary. All the rapport they shared is gone. Whatever.

As she regained her footing, she felt a heavy, throbbing pain in her leg. The sedative had worn off, leaving her in a world of raw agony. She tried to move her leg, and it obeyed with a sting of thousands of ants.

A bath would be great. Maybe a chance to rest her bone tired body.

She enters her room and tosses her clothes onto the bed, scattering the mountains of papers, the forms and requests from the underclass. She had attempted her best to read them last night and found that they possessed the same legibility as chicken scratches. She can't read a thing on them. (Others are mailed in leaking…. Grape juice smelling substance. Scared to even begin questioning what this is. But by the way Sforza reacted when she told him (with blatant disgust) it is not good )

Enough of it! She's taking a skin searing hot shower to melt away her thoughts.

The ominous floating sphere that serves as a shower head pours over her hair and she could moan.

She takes off the bandages and sinks into the pool of water. Picking at the scabs and the blister sacks that taunt her with her body's fragility.

She hasn't visited Galileo. Sforza had interrogated her on how she escaped and where the humans went. Trying their hand at burrowing into her head to try and fetch the information with Giorgia serving as his backup and watching her movements.

But to cut things short, with everything going on, the Lord's injury, the non-stop messages, etc, putting her in a cell until she spills isn't going to help.

She carefully scrubs with a sigh. Letting her head fall back as the wonderful refreshing feeling calms her achy skin. Clearing away the earlier migraine.

When she opens her eyes there waiting on the other side of the bath is lord white.

“Jesus Christ!” She leaps to get her clothes and protect her dignity sinking into the water. “What the fuck are you doing here!?”

“You did not respond to my letter. What else is a soul to do.”

She moves to the far corner and hunkers down. “How did you get in?!”

“A passageway only I am privy to.” She should have Sforza follow them and block it. Can't afford anymore winding rats to sneak in and finish them off.

Her body runs hot. Yelling at them to get out which they ignore. “But we must speak, dear.”

“I'll answer you, just let me wash and get some clothes on!”

They wave an elegant hand. ‘go on’

“Look away.” she's not trying to flash them her tits or other goods

White looks quite offended but obeys. Turning their head slightly to a wall opposite to her.

“You must understand I cannot reveal myself to be involved with Negredo. I am the last remnant of the order from the days of old. The sole protector of the king. This plan is older than you can even begin to conceive. Red and Yellow talk now of descending here at prying Anguish from you.”

She scrubs her armpits. “I get it. You could blow your cover. Pass me the soap by your feet please?”

They do so. “You have revealed your hand.” They sternly lecture. “Right now Red plots to dispose of you and Yellow has visited his knights to release his frustrations.”

“Then I will remain vigilant and wish Dyo a safe recovery on my behalf.” there is no flowery poetry or emotional prose they display for their injured ally. The terrible force and duplicity that is the inner circle of the Lord's of Allagadda proves duplicitous by the day. A snake eating its tail.

“When Anguish rejoins, all will act as if this bump never happened. You have been in Red's eye since your arrival and is likely writing to his beloved Ambassador.”

She orders. “Where is the passage you came through? Show all of them to me.”

Her authority has no effect. “I'll leave the task of future discovery to you.” White slips out as suddenly as they came. Out the corner of the bathroom, entering a different subspace, a blip in vision that the human brain can't register. Hate it when they do that.

“Giorgia!” she shouts as loud as she can. She hears her at the door. Knocking growing to banging. She shivers and crosses her arms again, sinking further into the water.

Sforza pounds at the door. “Are you well?” the handle jiggles. Then it's beaten at.

White somehow keeps the door clothes through the sheer force of an invisible hand.

Sforza and two other guards manage to burst through the door. Clutching them to her chest as she's finally able to breathe without being under their heavy gaze. She lunges for her clothing. Still dripping wet the pants and shirt become soggy as they absorb the water on her body.

The nerve of that thing! Anguish had told her Diligence was the less lascivious of the Lords and she had naively believed them!

On the bed beside her.

He remained still, waiting to see what the agent would do next. He had for centuries reveled in his inhuman nature. He has known himself to be cunning, ruthless, and brutal. Enjoying destroying the lives of his hosts and sowing seeds of chaos throughout history. He was there at the French revolution. The great fires of London. A courtier to the introduction of Mansa Musa.

They should be grateful he chose them. He doesn't spare them a thought if he could help it.

But... She made him question everything he thought he knew about humans. Or just her.

Needlessly, valiantly, stunningly, stupid. Laying beside him a thin shell apart.

[undead-merman]

Day Five: Married At Sea

Contains forced marriage, obsessive behavior, dubcon, mentions of death. 

The salt saturated air filled his lungs as he gently held himself up on that rock you loved so very much. It was a good rock, smooth, warm from the sun, high enough to sit on without getting wet during both tides. You always had such brilliant ideas, has such wonderful taste, and you, who was just so perfect, was there on the rock with him as the noon sun shined down on the two of you. His fingers intertwined with yours as the heavenly rays warmed him. 

He shifted then twitched in surprise when you raised your hand to shield yourself, only to laugh when he found out his glamoured scales got sunlight in your eye. His gaze softened just looking over you. Your clothes woven from seaweed were drying yet still clung to your body. Your legs splayed out with the skin soaking up some much-needed sun. Hair was thick with salt spray, but it added to the breathtaking wind blown look you had at the moment. And with how stiff your hair was meant he got to brush it out when you returned to your nest. 

He was the luckiest man in the world, surely. He was with his soul mate and every day was a blessing getting to spend it with you. Simeon let out a contented sigh, reached over and pulled your head against his chest to place a gentle kiss on your scalp. Even your hair was hot, so he let his lips linger to soak in the heat, you could feel his lips part into a smile. 

But while this was enjoyable he craved something more, something deeper than whet you already had, even though that seemed impossible. There was always a boundary between you both, love between both land and sea swelling with adoration, obsession, he could hardly contain himself when you were living on land, and yet even now that you wake up next to each other there's still a film between you that he could not stand. Small but enough to want to pick at his flesh and scales in anxious frustration. 

“Simeon?” Your voice bubbled up from underneath him, melodic and sweet, but he stopped when you repeated yourself. He titled his head down, and his hands were wrapped around you rather tightly. He loosened his grip but, of course, he did not pull away. 

“Apologies my love. I was lost in thought.” His tone saccharine and his eyes just like honey, melting when they look at you. 

You shrug it off. You know better than to fuss. You settle back down as he looks down. He shifts his weight so he can wrap his tail around your side. His tail fin rests on your legs, cold even in the sunlight. Oh, how he wishes to be one with you. 

How joyous it would be, to feel your warm soft flesh on his bones. To know each other's thoughts and love for one another. Yes, that's what he was missing. That was the membrane between you both he wished to snap and crawl out of to wrap around your still quivering form. 

Humans had a rite, a celebration, for just such a desire. A joining of souls that would forever have you as one. Marriage. The name alone was enough to make his heart race with jubilation. 

"Dear, what is Marriage like?" His head tilts like a confused pup.

You know of his obsession. It's why you're out here and not at home enjoying a nice cozy bed, why you're out here soaking in the sun while you can. He's taken you and kept you all for himself. You're not sure why he's asking, but you can only imagine that he's fantasizing about it. So you keep it simple, making sure not to add any flair to intrigue him more than it already seems like he is.

Even with the most basic description he absorbs every detail, even when you mention the high divorce rate. He stares, wide-eyed and unblinking with genuine enthusiasm, hanging on to every word you utter. It certainly not nerve wracking when he asks out of nowhere, no, not at all.

He ponders a way to have a ceremony like that. He’s sure that you would want your family to attend, maybe he could charm them. That way they wouldn’t cause any trouble. Though if they were anything like you, they might be immune to his lullaby. A shame, he would have loved to ask for their blessing. A shame he couldn’t invite them. 

Maybe it could be a private ceremony? Just between you two. His caudal fins flared at the idea. How would he replicate such an experience? His tail gently slapped against your legs. Anxiety twisted in your gut, you know what that gesture means. 

-

Simeon had been gone for most day for a while now. You're not sure to count that as a blessing or not. In the early days you might have thought about running, getting out of this hellhole where all you could do is putz around and mess around with the little toys he’s left for you to occupy your time with. 

And god, you hate to say it, but you miss him. It was a sick mess, you knew what this isolation was doing to you, and yet you couldn’t help how your heart deeply ached with bitter isolation. You’d take the days when you’d scream and sob over being left alone in the cold like this, in this damned dripping cave expanse.

“Sorry I’m late darling.” the water parted over a head of black hair to reveal your captor, his glamour melted away with excitement. He swam up, offering some food for the night while gripping the rock’s ledge with barely contained glee. Your appetite quickly melted away. 

“Once you are finished eating, I wanted to show you something. I’ve had this planned for a while now.” he dragged himself from the briny depths and settled next to you with a blissful smile. He looked over at you and that smile faded. “What’s wrong? Are you not hungry?” his hand found your head, palm feeling for a fever. He didn’t get upset when you pulled away. He never got mad at you for some damned reason. 

A blissful smile stretched across his face, his feral teeth on display contrasting such a warm expression, though you know this is what he really is, something terrifying behind warped intentions. “Were you lonely without me?” His tail slapped the ground like a dog’s tail. “Oh darling, you are so sweet. I promise it’s for good reason.” he gently picked up your chin and rubbed his cheeks against your own, scenting you. 

When you push away your food for a second time he only lets his worry linger for a moment more before his excitement takes over. He takes your hand and slips back into the water. He urges you more and more into the water with his adoring eyes never leaving you. It reminds you of the night he finally stole you away from everything. A disgusting sense of déjà vu. You were on the precipice of something terrible, something you know you won’t be able to turn away from. 

But what else could you do? It’s not as if you could run. Things, things were just easier this way. As you step into the water you feel something leave you. Pride perhaps, but it leaves you feeling hollow, bitterly so. 

-

You hack violently, spewing seawater from your lungs as you're pull onto shore. Falling to your hands and knees, you hack and spit until there's not even air left. Collapsing to your hands and knees, you continue to cough and spit until there's nothing left, not even air. You even had to blow seaweed that was lodged up your nose. His hand was on your back gently patting and rubbing circles, no help whatsoever. 

When you finally get your thoughts straight and manged to rub the blurriness from your eyes. You find a smaller tunnel, only just big enough for you to stand in, decorated from floor to ceiling with shells. They shone with trillions of colors gleaming from the light that just barely managed to filter in from the moonlight. Jewels and big and beautiful as can be, some cut in a way that reflect the light and cast the room in even more colors somehow, a stain glass effect on the rocky damp tunnel. Yet skull and bones however are the main focus of it all. You couldn’t even begin to count the vast amount of skulls. Some animal, some human, some even siren like. All of them picked clean of any flesh or mess like they had been left in the sun to bleach. 

Simeon looked over to you, waiting for your reaction with bated breath. Hope. Something you'd lost a while ago. You offer him a smile despite dying a little inside. 

"I went and listened to stories about humans and their marriages. I'm not sure if I got it completely. But-" He brings your hand to his lips and presses a kiss onto your knuckle. “It’s a celebration for us. Us and no one else. I love you.” 

He leaned back, his fingers delving into what appeared to be a freshly harvested human rib cage, grotesquely fashioned into a macabre offering tray. He fished out a stitched-together outfit, clearly crafted from dozens of white cloth, some you suspect from the very sailors he talked about a week ago. It stunk, reeked of iron and mildew and ominously tinged with faint traces of red. You couldn't help but shudder at the unnerving level of precision that came from his obsession. He offered you the abominable frankenstein-like outfit. You hesitated. This was sinister, even for him. Was he truly, and horrifyingly, attempting to bind you in some kind of fucked up pretend version of matrimony, cooked up from delusions of love in his sick little head? 

Plucking out a large silver ring he slid it onto your finger, the middle not the ring finger. It is a large lapis lazuli fitted inside, with intrigue carvings of other lighter and darker gemstones of varying hues of blue. “I love you. I wish to be one with you in both body and soul. I cannot begin to imagine a world without you, my life before meeting you seems so empty and lonely, I never want to experience anything without you again.” 

The ring felt like a cuff, a shackle that weighed a million tons. Yet, what could you do? Even if you protested or yelled, he’d simply wait for you to grow tired and ask again, and again, and again until you finally agreed. He was an expert at wearing down your will, and he didn’t even need to use his song. “Let us become one. Your body and mine, not even nature itself will know the difference.” His fingers snake in into your outfit. 

You settle down against a rock and let his hands drift over your skin. He’s so cold, his finger pads lack of warmth have you pinching with each knew intimate area they come to. Soon they make acquaintance with your thighs touching gently asking for permission with how light they are. You groan, leaning back more to allow him in, deeper. So he followed. 

He took one leg and began to kiss your ankle, disrobing you as he switches back and forth to each one. Soft lips against your talus and trailing up to your - focusing on where the tendons of your leg sit. He rubs his cheek all along the still moist flesh, scenting you more and more as his eyes close from the bliss of having you so close. Then, once he finds your groin, he gives you a tender kiss on your inner thigh before indulging you in the deep pleasures of his tongue. 

Hard adoring licks as if he’s a dying of thirst and your lewd fluids will save him. He’s unrelenting, focusing on your pleasure and nothing else, breath ghosting over your pelvis from his nose while his mouth is busy. You can feel the coil of pleasure in your lower abdomen compressing, getting tighter and tiger with each menstruation of his tongue. He simply did not let up, he drove you high and higher up the skull lined wall as you tried to pull away just to find some footing. His arms wrapped around the back of your knees and yanked you closer, his nose pressed into your pubes as his flaming glaze melts you with its desperate intensity. 

You wrap your legs around his head, toes curling as you find your explosive orgasm. Your moaning turned into yelling as his mouth continues to overstimulate you as you ride out your orgasm. He drinks in everything you give him. He only pulls away as you sink back down, your bones became weak and pliable, easy for him to bed as he wished. 

Simeon dragged himself over your collapsed form, trapping you between his arms and tail, his skin slated slightly, thorns poking out like overgrown roses, and long duel cock of shades of blue twitching with anticipation, they dribble down against your bellybutton as his mouth and tongue find yours. 

You didn’t feel inside your body during that moment, you could feel your block breath, yet everything felt numb. If he wanted to become one, who were you to oppose this? He was loving you. So you brought him into an embrace, holding him as hard as you could against your chest, as if trying to mesh him inside your own flesh.

[honourablejester]

Numenera Setting Notes: Points of Interest Part III

Finishing up the Beyond, down in the salty weirdness near the Divided Seas and the Cold Desert of Maltheunis. There is a general theme of salt and blood and strangeness down here, which I am definitely vibing with.

Part III: The Beyond Part II (Numenera: Discovery)

Errid Kaloum, near the Divided Seas, because it’s a huge weird salt flat with fertile ‘islands’ sticking up through it due to geothermal activity. These islands have fresh water and natural desalinisation from the extrusive mineral structures. Among its weird features are the Floating Circle, which is a 300ft diameter circle in the middle of the salt flats that lets anything that weighs less than 300lbs to hover while within it (and anything that weighs less than 3lbs goes zooming off into space). It’s an ancient skydiver training platform or something similar, and it’s fantastic. There’s also a castle made of light on one of the islands which may or may not be trans-dimensional, as it’s full of abykos, which appear to be transdimensional ghost creatures.

Our Order of the Lady of the Salt Way, in the Sere Marica, the saltier of the two Divided Seas. And by salty, I mean extremely salty. Possibly Dead Sea levels? And this holy order worships that salt, on the word of a woman named Saint Eseld four generations ago. They have an unnamed monastery island in the Salted Marshes that produces a lot of salt byproducts for sale, and whose devotees crust themselves in salt, both in their hair and on their skin. There’s rumours that something is done with salt and their bodies after death, too. The current leader of the order is an ex-aeon priest who stabbed her own eyes out when she first saw a vision of a woman in the salt, years ago, believing it a test of her faith, and came around to her new faith when they took care of her. I just. I really really like spooky maritime things, salt and bones and visions and blood. I like it.

Salachia, also in the Sere Marica. Specifically, 1500ft down in the Sere Marica. A domed, wheel-shaped underwater city covered by a porous membrane that allows gases but not water or solids to pass through. The buildings appear to be huge nautilus shells in a ring around one vast nautilus shell that forms the city centre, with markets, schools, civic buildings, etc. The outer surface of the city is covered in tiny crystalline creatures called chiffons that make the whole thing seem to shimmer and writhe, and they feed on carbon dioxide. They’re what’s providing the oxygen exchange here in lieu of plants. They also can operate as symbiotic breaking masks. The city is hooked up to the surface by a bubble tube. But the population is currently dwindling, and this has more knock-on effects that you’d think, because it needs to maintain a certain population level to generate enough CO2 to keep the chiffon population up as well, or the whole city might cross a failure line and lose atmosphere. So they’re currently trying to get people to enter and stay in the city by, possibly, any means necessary. That’s a fascinating little moral and biological conundrum there. Also, you can never go wrong with a domed underwater shell city.

The Weal of Baz, on the shores of the freshwater Navae Marica, the other of the two Divided Seas. It’s a town hidden by holograms in a cliff face that was built by an ancient AI called Baz to provide a safe harbour for intelligent machines. Baz might be dead now, but some of the machines sheltering in his town are over a million years old. And they’re all cranky. They hate and/or are petrified of organic beings, and really don’t want them around, although occasionally they’ll trust one enough to give them a pass into the Weal. The town has a massive solar generator called the dragon that helps keep everyone powered, and it’s sometimes worshipped as a god. And, again, you can’t go wrong with a machine refuge, I’ll always take that!

The Amorphous Fields, to the south of the Divided Seas. Because it’s 200 miles of vast heaving morphing landscape that may or may not be the semi-solid crust over a vast subterranean organic soup that also may or may not be alive. Because, again, joy to the weird landscapes. It’s primarily inhabited by floating predatory soup jellyfish called ligoshi, and a few villages worth of absolute nutters of stubborn humans. There’s an organic green tower in the middle, a 1000ft spire of organic tissue, with a metal ‘halo’ floating around it (an observation platform?) full of numenera. It’s weird, and I love that it exists. (There’s also a fantastically dry little note in the ‘Weird of the Amorphous Fields’ sidebar, which just acknowledges that ‘Arguably, the whole place is pretty weird’. Fantastic!)

Vebar, near the Amorphous Fields, because it’s a hanging subterranean city that clings to the roof of a cavern. Its buildings hang downwards from the ceiling, and the streets are either above it, as tunnels, or between the buildings, as bridges and walkways. It’s lit by hanging artificial lights, and it’s people farm fungi down on the floor of the cavern, which is also lit artificially, so the farms and the city act sort of as each other’s ‘night sky’, the constellations above and below. And. Everyone knows me and functional subterranean cities/cultures. I ADORE this place.

Seshar, as a semi-collapsed kingdom built around an ancient prior-world canal system. It looks so cool on the map:

I know, I know, the whole Martian canal thing, but you can’t go wrong with mysterious 50ft deep ancient storm drains/canal systems that allow civilisation, agriculture and trade to bloom in what is actually an extension of the nearby cold desert. Also the capital city of Nebalich is run by a king and queen who are explicitly described as ‘short, stout and unattractive by conventional standards’, but are ‘two of the most loved rulers in the Beyond’. Which is a nice touch. Love our short stout kings and queens.

The Fields of Frozen Flowers, in Maltheunis, the Cold Desert. Three salty lakes down near the massive glacial formation of the Southern Wall, they form ‘frozen flowers’ of ice and bacteria when conditions on the surface of the lakes are exactly right. And there’s a whole mythology that’s built up around these ‘flowers’ as symbols of love, each unique and perfect and so delicate that the touch of a warm hand lifting them from the water will destroy them. Also getting to them across the thin ice of the briny lakes (full of lethal bitey fish, because of course) is a quest in itself, and the lakes are full of the bodies of suitors that sought to prove their devotion by fetching a frozen flower for their love. Also dark stories of loves who sent them to get one so that they’d become a frozen corpse. But there’s this bit: “So many young lovers are lost to love’s watery garden that there is a myth of bodies building up below the surface, creating a bridge to walk on. There are other myths, too, of the dead men rising from beneath the surface, their hands now frozen enough to carry the flowers all the way to their beloveds.” It’s romantic and ghoulish and I adore it. This icy garden lake in the ass crack of the frozen beyond that is a mecca to betrayed and beautiful and extreme love. And, of course, there’s a cottage tourism industry in the area because of it. Because of course there is. Humans, you know?

The southern end of the map does seem to be generally just a little bit ghoulish, and that is perfectly fine by me! Let’s wander these strange lands of salt and ice and weird shifting bio-soup, I’m down with that! Heh.

Next time we’ll move over to the Ninth World Guidebook and head out beyond the core region of the Steadfast and the Beyond, into the Frozen South and some other areas.

[greatkittydream]

The creature from the dungeon 5

“Thinking” ‘talking’ (righters input) Important/ very noticeable

​

Jacob pov

​

“Me and squeaks were just Two more Island hops away from getting to that cabin. coconut while a fun flavor gets old after a while. Another thing I don't like in large amounts. coconut crabs they ate Amelia Earhart. why do I bring this up oh you know I'm just stuck in a tree with bus sized coconut crabs currently laying eggs on the beach.”

​

Looking down from where he was holding squeaks in himself in a palm tree, coconut crabs this size of the hermit crabs from Fallout 4 were currently laying eggs into the sand.

​

Normally Jacob would be astounded by the size of these crabs except coconut crabs are notorious for eating everything. and he's not exactly happy about the situation.

​

Or the fact that they let out grumbles that sound like V8 engine. I mean you and your unofficially adopted child, sibling, thing. Are just chillaxing on the beach and then all the sudden boom giant fucken coconut crab.

​

Needless to say he's not happy about the situation, squeaks for once is not happy to be on my back, or in my arms in this situation. I think she's finally starting to understand I'm not fucking invincible.

​

That or she just doesn't want to get crab juice over her, these things are so slimy. Covered in a mucous membrane to keep water over their body I can even see the water bubbles forming around their mouth to where mucus is keeping water for them to breathe on land.

​

“As much as Crustaceans are incredible animals that have been around for millions of years they are fucking disgusting at times. Oh what's this, A territorial dispute over nesting grounds, can't wait to see these two bitches fight like a pair of drunk redneck wifes at NASCAR.”

​

Watching the crabs lock their massive claws together while running up onto each other's body with their legs. it appeared they are trying to push the other into the ocean.

​

"An interesting territorial dispute method".

​

After about an hour of Nesting ground disputes and laying eggs it seemed they were finally ready to head back into the ocean.

​

**SWOSH BOOM**

**SWOSH BOOM**

**SWOSH BOOM**

**SWOSH BOOM**

​

In a flash of bright light several speeding objects hit into the large coconut crabs and exploded. sinking further into the tree looking over to where the objects came from the cabin was open.

​

Another elf was there except this one was a bit more tan and having tribal lines along her body. In her hand is a flame in the fading shape of a bow as it went out. Next to her was a tiger of some kind standing on hind legs digitigrade.

​

Emerging from the two from inside the cabin is a dwarf with a large coat on with thick fur. In his hand was an axe that seems to be glowing in some spots. Walking up to the water the dwarf slammed it down into the ocean creating a large ice Bridge was formed all the way up to the island where Jacob was.

​

They began jogging across the newly formed ice Bridge. Jacob had hidden himself further into the palm tree. Squeak gripped onto his clothes tighter, keeping as quiet as possible.

​

When They got up to the island he was on they were rather distracted Gathering the recently laid eggs. The elf has taken to watch staring out into the ocean as the tiger was picking out certain ones. The dwarf meanwhile was creating many barriers between them and the ocean out of ice.“

​

"Okay Jacob these are the first people you've seen since the bad Touch men. Squeaks seem scared of these people then again they just launch fire arrows at giant crabs and explode them. So I'm scared too doesn't mean they're bad people.”

“Okay they seem to know what they're doing. They're obviously here for a job collecting eggs. And they seem to have an air of professionalism around them rather than arrogance. so probably not bad touch people then. Maybe they can help me and squeaks get out of this place. Or I get brutally mold to death by a fucking tiger.”

​

Jacob weighed the pros and cons of each idea in his head. He could approach them and potentially get salvation. Or he could get mugged like he was in Britain and stabbed 32 times by a tiger.

​

Whale normally he would not approach these… Fine fellows he's kind of desperate it's obvious to him that he has no experience in traversing whatever this place is. Still denying it's a dungeon to himself. And he'd rather get squeaks out of here sooner than later.

​

“well here goes nothing, God if you're listening please don't let me die and especially not squeaks I like the little girl.”

​

With that he put squeaks into the tree and patted her head and put his finger up to his lips. And he pushed away from the tree leaping down.

\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_

POV Allen

Allen never considered himself especially talented in the Arts of magic. He had a few gifts in determining Certain Magical items. It's what landed him this job discovering which magical beast eggs could be taken and raised and which would Rebel too much against potential Masters.

Growing up as a druid in the forest gave him a certain respect for nature. Beast folk culture tends to be based around respecting it, doubly so when you're a druid. Given the knowledge he was gifted from a young age and his party's ability to access the paradise level fairly easily. They could make in and out taking greater crab eggs which could be turned into familiars or pets.

They make their usual run once every year during the laying season; they would pick out eggs which could be turned into companions, guards, whatever they were used for. He didn't really care if it's not his problem if the idiots didn't know how to properly train them.

​

??: Will you please hurry up I don't want to stay here any longer than necessary.

Allan turned his head to look towards the woman who just spoke to him.

Allan: And I'm going as quickly as I can but this takes time. We have six eggs already and to make that the money we spent on damage Buffs getting to this level we need to get eight.

With a quick Flash in his hand he quickly determined the egg in his current possession could make for a pet.

Allan: Well now we have seven just one more to go and we can leave if you're happy not making money.

​

With a huf mercy turned her head back towards the beach. As much as she was impatient he understood her worry they had about 10 more minutes before they're damaged boost was up and they would be practically helpless.

​

Edgar, their short nature friend, had taken to leaning against the tree. With all the flaws Edgard had being a follower of the god of greed, being partially lazy, and a lack of respect in general. He was still a good friend he wouldn't trade for the world at least he's honest more than he can say for half the people he knows.

​

**Husssh THUMP**

​

“something landed behind me just now”.

​

Looking up he saw a look of pure horror on his friends face, Mercy looks as if she's seen a ghost.

^(Mercy: don't, move.)

​

Was uttered in a voice so quiet he could barely hear it. we still had our damage boost whatever's making her act like this could not be good.

​

Allan used his magic sense to find out what was around him; he couldn't find anything out of the normal at first. Then he noticed it. When searching for someone or something using Magic it will give off magic in a wave which can be intercepted or tracked to find the location of something.

​

He found nothing behind him, just the normal magic waves. until he noticed directly behind him was slightly less than the air around it not by much but just enough to where if he paid attention he'd notice if just barely.(Yes you can sense magic like you can track radio waves using radar)

​

His heart started beating harder and his ears started to feel with the ringing. his mouth became terribly dry and he felt like he could feel everything touching him. Taking a swallow trying to think of creatures which could be behind him at the moment. His mind popped up with a blank all he knew is that he was scared.

​

After what felt like an eternity he finally had enough courage to turn around and look slowly turning. as to not alarm what was ever behind him just when his eye reached around the corner he saw it.

​

At first he thought it was an pale elf but the more came into view the more horror came to his realization.

​

​

**“It was a fucking human”**

​

​

He was tempted to jump away. But his rational mind said no it's a good thing the rest of his party realized it hadn't attacked yet. assuming they all came to the same conclusion as him. This was a trigger boss they hadn't done anything to trigger its attention and it's more than likely just inspecting them to see if they did without its notice.

​

​

Standing up slowly and turning his waist at the same time to meet the creature to get as much information as he could to increase his chances of survival as much as he could.

Standing up to his full height he noticed he was just an inch taller than

“it’s probably 5'11 then”.

Edgar was behind the creature, he was leaned against the tree behind where the human fell. Looking over to his friend he noticed the other look of greed in his face. breathing in quickly as he realized what his friend was thinking. Being sure not to give any outwardly shocked Expressions as to not potentially trigger the human.

Monster parts sold for different values based on properties and the level of the monster itself human parts sold for ludicrous amounts. Watching his friends slowly take out a dagger. He wanted to scream at him to stop what he was doing that he was going to get himself killed but he couldn't.

He was too scared to looking into the face of the creature. It may as well been looking into an abyss although there was no actual Shadow it felt as if it's entire face was covered in a mazma of Darkness. With only its eyes staring at him. Deap haunting blue Eyes as if staring into the abyss of the ocean.

​

It could kill him at any moment. It was just waiting for him to give the excuse. The worst part of all though was just standing still staring at him.

Staring into his eyes. into his soul this was the most crushing experience of his life. his legs were shaky he wanted to give out he could feel his heart beating he could hear it.

The creature was opening its mouth, his mind raced a mile a minute.

“was it about to attack, Was it yawning, was this some territorial warning”!

Before he could think of anything else he heard it.

​

**CUT**

​

Looking behind the human he remembered his friend was just behind it now with some hair in his hand, some of it's locks, turning around with a speed which was frightening the creature stared down at Edgar.

He froze, this may be the first time he thought he ever bit off more than he could chew. trigger monsters typically any perceived damage was fought against. They were as good as dead right now and he was writing up his will and his mind lamenting all of his unfulfilled wishes.

The human simply stared at Edgar for a minute before walking towards the water while staring at them the entire time. Taking the chance to leave he and his party simply grabbed what they could insert back pedaling towards the exit.

\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_

Jacob's POV

‘was I just molested’

After watching the party leave through the cabin after that perverted dwarf took some of his hair he felt violated, even if they were willing to give assistance he would never go with them after that. especially with not a child around

“fucking degenerates”.

‘Squeaks we're leaving, it's not safe here’.

With those weirdos leaving and seeing a perfectly good opportunity to cross an ice Bridge he figured he kills two Birds one stone. And not to mention he didn't want them coming back with friends potentially. He won't be getting Ask to squeal like a pig by a bunch of fantasy rednecks thank you very much.

Walking up to the base of the tree holding out his arms, squeaks jumped into them. Pulling her into his chest as he began walking across the ice Bridge. trying to distract himself he focused on the distinct rubber sound his shoes made as they walked across the ice.

As a Southern Man Ice was his one weakness he remember the first time he tried to walk across a thick ice patch when he was 13 he fell in just about broke every bone in his body. not literally he did get the air knocked out of him though. But that's good enough for him to walk slow as shit though.

By the time he made it to the cabin the majority of the ice had melted. Walking up to its steps he took in the design and what's made out of oak logs. Not thinking much of it, putting his hand onto the door and pulling it open.

He saw a fireplace and a bear rug on the floor. It had a very homey feel to it. Setting squeaks down on the floor and making his way towards the other exit. He pushed it open. He was met with a roar of the wind and a harsh storm of snow. Pulling the door shut as hard as he could his eye was twitching.

Jacob: ‘fucken, going from a Tropical Paradise to a tundra hell something straight out of the long dark, Why God’.

Squeaks: ‘FUCKEN’

Jacob turned his head towards his unofficially adopted sister/daughter whatever their relationship is.

Jacob: ‘And now I can't curse like a sailor because you're going to be influenced by me well that's just great’

\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_

Reds POV???: #### For your crimes against the great state you are hereby sentenced to death by hanging. you are a merciless killer. A Savage leader of Marauders have done not but kill and pillage you are not fit for leadership.

​

Looking all around he could only see vague Shadows of people holding up similar to his. his body was currently being dragged towards a noose. Kicking and screaming with all his might he could feel his breath Quicken. he then noticed that he had a body of flesh again.

​

Before he could focus too much on that his neck was placed on the Noose before he was hung.

​

launching straight up with a back fist towards the air he looked around and noticed that he was at his campsite with his friend. looking down at his body it was no longer that a flesh but back to its regular pale bone.

​

looking back over to his friend before laying back down trying to get some rest despite not needing it. He doesn't know why he was plagued with nightmares and what crimes he did. To deserve it he just hopes he'll find out eventually.

\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_\_

Okay so this came out way later than expected and shorter and there's a reason for that. I got into my first fender bender. practicing driving in a parking lot, some guy come speeding in and boom hits our bumper. he calls the police blaming us I don't have a fucken license so I'm getting taken to court. anyways I'm sorry this took two extra days to come out and with shorter than intended. but I hope it will at least satisfy you sorry.

[kbgw1234]

Went to the bughunter and the narcissist cookbook in Columbus and hands down it was my favorite show I’ve ever been to, and it was a great first concert to go to by my self

I’m 4’10” so standing shows are usually hell, I either get their early enough to get first row and then have to have the balls to keep it for the entire show or I have to make my own fun in the back of the room

Thankfully I got dead center front row, no one had a better view than me, I knew going into it that I would have access to the bar for water but I was fine with that as long as it didn’t get to hot

Oh dear god did this not go according to plan

So bughunter comes on and he plays and I fucking love every song, even though admittedly I’d only heard them once or twice, but once he starts playing it’s like I magically know the words like I’ve heard it a million times before, they feel like home in a weird way.

But then he stops playing, and I can feel the heat start to get me, I now in the safety of my home can say there were a couple of times in show I felt a little woozy. Which explains my behavior when this random fucking guy noticed I’d been staring at him for a while, well not him but their water, I jokingly tell them this, and with out a thought they offer me a sip, assuring me there was only water and lime in it. And let me tell you that sip was the best water I’ve ever had, better than any 2 am glass, better than fresh ice on a hike. Was it a bad idea to drink from a strangers cup? Yes absolutely. Would I do it again? No probably not. Do I have any regrets? No because this was the thing that made me realize how badly I needed water, but again I can’t lose my spot, so my dehydrated brain comes up with a plan, ask this random guy to hold my spot so I can run out while the crowd is not so packed,slam some water and run back, for some reason trusting people to adhere to the dibs rule

The first part goes off with out a hitch, I run drink some delicious water in cups way to small(for what the place lacked in air conditioning it attempted to make up for it with serve yourself water) and right as I’m heading up for my third cup, the wheels fall off the plan

Because I forgot time was a thing. I forgot that when this tour says 10-15 they mean 10-15. And suddenly the narcissist cookbook, the band that dragged me through my post birthday depression and my finals season anxiety, is playing good morning sunshine, a song I’ve had to stop playing bc I was driving a car and driving and crying is a bad mix.

In an instant the crowd smooshes back into its usual solid form and I’m all the way in the back. I’m debating just making my own fun in the back but no, I need to get back up there. I’m going to do it. At this point I hadn’t even pushed through the membrane of 6’3” guys who line the crowd, to but my height into perspective, I was actually actually scared of getting hit with an elbow to the face on accident so to avoid injury I had to move quick. I spend good morning sunshine behind this wall, always looking for an opening, and then as he’s getting ready for my ass is a dump truck I see it, a couple leaves the row ahead and I go for it. Pushing past people a head of me to get to that bubble. I can now see the guy who’s holding my spot and some of the band

Eventually the band stops to tune a bit and water guy turns around and sees me and pulls me forward, giving me my dead center spot back which is where I spend the rest of the night

I scream sing every song I know and love the ones I don’t

About half way through the set they play their nightly cover which ironically is “let it go” and I swear to god it actually got colder in the room

Anyway that night was awesome, no regrets and I’d do it again in a heart beat

[caniwkaeup]

4th writing exercise for the creative writing club. prompt: "write to the music."

BUBBLES POP

"it's dark.

there are people floating in front of me. millions of them. in bubbles, i can see them doing some menial task, talking with their friends, dancing, eating, falling in love, and everything else.

i am omnipresent, but not omnipotent.

i have the power to pop any bubble and end anyone's memory.

but i don't want to do that. i want something else, to be in the bubble myself- dancing, eating, falling in love.

where is my bubble?

when the lights turn on, another omnipresent person comes into view. her hand is raised toward me, her face apologetic.

she, too, has no bubble. in a pained voice, i open my mouth, "please give it back."

water drips from her finger. a lifetime of hesitation before a similarly pained response, "how?"

i don't know how to react. but something is scratching in the back of my mind, a voice begging me to connect. i need her.

i reach my hand out. "you were upset." i touch her hand.

then, there's a thin membrane forming around her, and then me, and it converges in the middle.

before i know it, we're both floating."

-

note: my favorite.

one must tear down their own walls to be let into others'. people have a hard shell, but a soft core.

loneliness is a topic worth writing a billion things about. fortunately, i enjoy happy endings.

hope in the human race spills over into faith, which turns into love, forgiveness, and everything more.

[muraenida]

@mostrohost​ sent: "Teeth." Azul warns softly, the tip of one of his tentacles lightly tapping Floyd's forehead and gently pushing the eel's head back. Several of his other limbs continue their lazy exploration, curling up around and mapping the length of Floyd's tail. Some of what he feels is familiar - Floyd still tastes like the sweet-sour tang of poison, of brine and the cold of the sea. But he's put on more muscle since the last time they've nestled down like this. His fingers trace the rise of Floyd's dorsal fin, avoiding the spines and minding the thin membrane towards the end. Another tentacle loops around Floyd's hips, then further down - suckers gently latching on and lightly squeezing before releasing a moment later; the effect being similar to a full body massage that traveled from Floyd's shoulders down to the tip of his tail."You ate not too long ago, you know." Azul shifts back against the coral, bringing Floyd down with him as he gets comfortable. "The cake, the snacks, the fritters my mother sent you - really." He sighs out a steam of bubbles from his gills. "I can't be that tasty." Still, it is Floyd's birthday. He can be forgiving, this time. "When did you get so big? Your tail's just a little shorter than my tentacles now." Human bodies didn't accurately portray a mer's age, he knew; but somehow the knowledge that Floyd was tall as a human never quite translated to how big he was as an eel. And Floyd was still growing. A slightly terrifying thought, to be honest. "Happy birthday, Floyd." Azul lightly ran a finger over the part in Floyd's hairline, nail tenderly tracing his scalp.

Floyd’s muscles tingle pleasantly as he relaxes under Azul’s massage, each exploring touch of his tentacles perfectly placed. He lets it happen without much of a response, lying comfortably in Azul’s arms and lazily watching his many limbs stroke his skin. This is exactly what he wanted when he voiced his birthday wish: to be held and caressed like this, fully embraced by Azul in his true form while he, too, is in his natural shape and thus unbothered by the lack of warmth between then. There’s just nothing like being hugged by a creature with so many arms. (Except being hugged by Jade, perhaps.)

It’s not entirely conscious when Floyd starts to nibble at the careless arm brushing against his lips a moment too long, but he grins when Azul scolds him for it, not the least bit remorseful about his little fauxpas. He giggles.      “You’re the tastiest friend that I have,” he says and playfully pulls Azul’s arm back to hug it against his chest. He doesn’t bite again, though, deciding not to push his luck lest Azul gets mopey and decides to end their little cuddle session prematurely.

     “Mmh,” Floyd makes happily, remembering the food Azul’s mother sent them for their birthday. He had plenty, that’s true, but, “I could eat again,” he announces. He wiggles his tail just a little bit at the mention of its length, stretching it to full size. It’s funny to him how small Azul is in his human form, when he’s so massive in reality. Maybe that’s why humans tend to underestimate him even more than the silly mers down in the Coral Sea. If only they knew.

This thought just about melts out of Floyd’s head when Azul runs a hand over his scalp and he smiles contentedly. Looking up at him he brings a hand to the side of his face and further to the back of his neck. With a gentle pull he urges him to get closer and lean down so he can steal a kiss - and perhaps nibble a little more..

[shepherds-of-haven]

Ahhh thanks so much for doing this @kingdom-dance and @aylaaescar! I'll give my overall reactions here:

Blade: Capricorn

I think this is incredibly accurate for Blade, especially this part:

They are incredibly pragmatic. Capricorns are rule followers with a highly developed moral compass. From a young age, it is impressed upon them that their whole sense of worth and meaning is based on their ability to hunker down and force their way to the finish line. Their drive to succeed is a reflection of their fear of failure. The most stressful time in a Capricorn’s life is when they question their own authority. When a Capricorn is in a position of power, they are most stable. When they’re put in a position where they have to cater to someone else’s agenda, they can become a little unhinged.

Capricorns collect responsibility. And they always seem to take it all on. Capricorns need to be the one to fix everything. Responsibility is their natural state. They have a “can do” attitude. Capricorns are both the martyrs and the champions. They are the guardians and the judges. The team captains. The chief of chiefs. The general. The leader. But even as they lead the charge, Capricorns can feel like the loneliest people in the world. They wish to be completely self-sufficient, because they are so scared of depending on others.

For Mimir, however, I think it's less applicable lol.

Trouble and Ayla: Cancer

I can also see the accuracy in this, especially this bit for Trouble:

The self-awareness of a Cancer is like the tides–constantly moving in and out of focus. Their personalities are layered. Cancers have many moods, some of which are contradictory, but they also have a deep, core self that persists.

Their emotions are like an exposed nerve. Cancers can feel everything. They’re like a tuning fork that vibrates at the slightest provocation. They tend to carry deep grudges because they can’t forget the emotional sting of even a slight.”

And this part for Ayla!

They are frequently haunted by grief. It’s hard for them to share their pain with others, and they are often afraid to be vulnerable because they carry a fear that people will use their weaknesses against them. Cancers have learned to hide their pain to avoid burdening anyone else.

Briony and Tallys: Pisces

Hmm, this one is a tough one. I think the permeability and hard-to-pin-down quality of Pisces is particularly fitting for Briony: even I have trouble conveying her personality at times, because while on the surface she seems to be bubbly, perky, cheerful, friendly, and warm, like the "Happy One," there are definitely aspects to her--the volatility, temper, ferocity, fear, avoidant behaviors, and darkness--that shift and show their edges from time to time, but it's extremely dependent on the situation and the environment she's in. So this part is extremely apt for her!

Describing a Pisces’ personality can be difficult because Pisces tend to evade distinction. Their behavior changes significantly based on who they’re around. Pisces are just permeable membranes that pensively let things flow through them. They are cerebral sea sponges. They are boundless, diluting themselves with larger personalities to avoid having to form coherent identities.

For Tallys, I'm not as sure. I do think she's "inward-facing" and that it's difficult to understand her full personality from the outside, but I don't tend to see her as malleable or romantic as how Pisces are described!

Shery: Aquarius

I find it hard to see Shery in the overall description of Aquarius, but if anyone has a different perspective, I'd certainly be happy to hear it!

Riel: Virgo

This overall description is pretty accurate for Riel, though his house doesn't look like a Tasmanian Devil's house, and he certainly does not prioritize helping others over his own comfort! 😂

Chase and Croelle: Libra

Yes, I agree with you, I think Croelle is a Scorpio based on the description, as I don't think anything in Libra really fits him! I laughed out loud when reading this with Chase in mind, though:

Libras are difficult to really understand because they seem so contradictory. They’re simultaneously extroverted and introverted, strategic and spontaneous, focused and intuitive. This variability makes it difficult to pin down their true character. They are an entire constellation of personalities.

Lol, yes...

Red: Scorpio

I don't really see much of Red in this description, but I see a lot of Riel! I don't think Red is as interested in the power dynamics and social knowledge of what's going on inside of other people's minds except in an academic sense. He's emotionally and socially intelligent, but only in an incidental sense, not out of any particular passion for it!

Halek: Sagittarius

This bit seems true of Halek:

Sagittarians are the ultimate empiricists. They will always choose principles over feelings and will often question who they are. They move from job to job, philosophy to philosophy, belief to belief. They are explorers of the human condition and are unafraid of change. Sagittarians feel like the world is their playground. They love to explore the unknown. At their core, they want to understand how the world works.

But less so with Naolin, who I guess is also a Sagittarius, lol!

Lavinet and Prihine: Aries

Pretty much dead-on!

Caine: Gemini

Also seems very accurate!

I'm curious to know what everyone else thinks, especially for the people who know about zodiac signs (unlike me, who knows nothing): how accurate or inaccurate do these seem to you? Do any of the characters give off total ____ vibes?

Again, thank you so much @kingdom-dance for plugging in this info! 🥰

what would the characters birthdays be in the real world/modern au? i know they have their birthdays in the blest calendar, but i just want a real day to celebrate my favs irl!! <3

Aw, anon! 💖 As you said, the Shepherds’ “real” birthdays are in the codex calendar in the game, but for you, I’ll dig through my 10+ year notes to find what I put for their modern!AU birthdays (before I went down the deep rabbit-hole of ✨ worldbuilding ✨)!

Note: these will not always line up with their Blest equivalent months and birthdays, so please no one try and compare them because it’s not going to work, lol. 

Blade: January 5

Trouble: Early to mid July (anywhere from July 5th-23rd is good for him, he technically doesn't really know when his exact birthday is anyway. My earliest notes on him still use Zellea as his birth month lol, so let's say like July 11)

Tallys: February 20

Shery: February 13

Riel: September 15

Chase: October 13

Red: November 1

Ayla: June 26

Halek: December 12

Briony: March 7

Lavinet: April 9

Caine: May 30

Prihine: March 23

Croelle: October 6

Mimir: December 30

[attic-club-sandwich]

To Ascend Again

Summary: After falling from the Celestial Realm, the seven brothers must rely on each other emotionally to cope with the loss of their sister, Lilith. Meanwhile, they are also trying to adjust to their new forms and heal both the physical and emotional wounds caused by the Celestial War. Their bonds become stronger than ever since the fall, and they learn to rise again from the calamity that befell them.

Genre: Angst/Hurt

cw: mentions of blood, mild descriptions of gore. Swearing.

A/N: Here is chapter 2, I hope you guys enjoy! Remember that all feedback is appreciated and reblogs are extra appreciated!

Chapter 1

Chapter 2: The Reunion

Mammon’s eyes shot open wide as he gasped for air. He was laying face down in the middle of a giant, stone structure, which he assumed to be some sort of colosseum. It was completely dark, except for the moonlight shining through the opening of the dome above him. His head was pounding and he could barely think. He could smell blood, which made fear begin to bubble in his chest. What the fuck happened? Where are my brothers? Where’s Lilith?

He sputtered and coughed as he rolled himself over onto his side. The cold ground sent shivers through his body and goosebumps began to form on his tan skin. He looked down at himself and noticed he was completely nude except for what was left of the frayed material of what was once the intricate, white and gold sarong he wore in the Celestial Realm. He also noticed delicate, white lines now spreading down his bare torso and coming to an end just below his navel. Dammit. I’ve got to find the others… he gritted his teeth as he sat up, bones aching and sending shockwaves of pain through his body. Mammon groaned as he ran his hand through his hair. He gasped when he felt an unfamiliar sensation from the sides of his head. “W-What the…?” he choked out as he felt the newly acquired horns poking out from his white hair. They were short and thin, but he could feel the tightly coiled shape of them as they twisted up into a single, sharp point. He began to breathe heavily as he whipped his head around to see what fate his once beautiful, white wings had suffered. They sprouted from his lower back, and very much resembled wings of a bat. They were black in color, with a thin membrane of skin being connected by white boney-like appendages. No feathers in sight. His wings drooped behind him on the ground as he began to weep. 

His tears dropped onto the ground below him. He was almost too caught up in his own emotions to hear a second sob from somewhere behind him. Mammon’s head spun around to see his brother, Leviathan, in a similar state. “L-Levi!” he called out as he jumped to his feet. He hissed when he felt a wave of pain hit him but he persevered. He stumbled over to his younger brother. Taking in his appearance, he saw the now branched, coral like horns that protruded from Levi’s temples. Scales were now imprinted along the right side of his neck and he now possessed a long, winding, scaly tail. Levi grabbed Mammon’s arm, bringing his attention back on the current situation. “M-Mammon,w-where are w-we?” he choked out between sobs. “What’s h-happned t-to us?” Mammon winced. There was so much pain in Levi’s voice, and he hated it. 

He hated it so much. 

But he wanted to be strong for his brother.

 “I believe…we’re in hell.” 

***

The future Demon Lord and his butler made their way back to the colosseum. They’ve managed to gather all of the brothers but two of them so far. They’ve only searched the outskirts of the colosseum, as that’s where most of them were found, lying unconscious and in a very similar state to Lucifer. They only had one area left to check. “My Lord, I think I can see someone over there.” Barbatos said, motioning up ahead. 

Diavolo squinted, scanning the opening of the colosseum. He could definitely make out at least two figures sitting in the middle. “Very good, Barbatos. Let’s go.” As they made their way into the entrance of the colosseum, the two figures instantly whipped around to meet their gaze. Their eyes were glowing, one a golden blue, the other a deep amber-orange. “Now, now. There’s nothing to worry about, we’re here to help you.” Diavolo said, gently. Mammon and Leviathan held each other close as the two demons approached. “W-Who the hell are you?” Mammon hissed. “I’m Diavolo, son of the Demon King. I’m here to take you two back to the castle.” Diavolo gazed down at Mammon. His white hair, now blood stained where his horns protruded. The other, with indigo hair and an intense orange stare as his serpent-like tail flicked with warning. “And what exactly are ya planning on doing with us at this ‘Castle’?” Mammon questioned, suspicion edging in his voice. Diavolo couldn’t help but chuckle. “Why, based on your current state I would say you two are in need of some help. My friend Barbatos here is an excellent healer.” Barbatos bowed his head, hoping to gain the trust of the two fallen angels. Mammon dropped his gaze, the adrenaline of the situation coming down. He really should just accept the help. The pain was becoming unbearable as he leaned into Levi’s side. 

“Here, take this.” Diavolo shedded his jacket and offered it to Mammon for him to cover up. Mammon took it graciously and wrapped it around his shoulders. “Alright, fine. We’ll go with you…but only if you tell me where my other brothers are. And Lilith… She's our sister.” Diavolo’s face took on a grim expression. “I think you should come with me first before I disclose those details. But I assure you, your other brothers are safe.” he hesitated before continuing his statement. “...As well as your sister.”  Mammon swallowed hard. What was that supposed to mean?

They made their way back to the castle, slowly. Diavolo carrying Mammon with Barbatos and Leviathan in tow behind him. Both boys were now unconscious, the pain finally getting the best of them. As soon as they entered the castle doors, a booming voice sounded from the throne room. “DIAVOLO!” The young demon lord flinched as he and Barbatos quickly made their way through the long hallway and up one of the several staircases that winded and twisted above them. Diavolo hated ignoring his fathers shouting, but he needed to take care of the current matter at hand. “Quickly, we must get to the infirmary.” Barbatos murmured. Finally, they reached the infirmary where all of the other brothers lay in their respective beds, some of them beginning to stir awake. Diavolo carefully laid Mammon in his place, retrieving his jacket again and shrugging it back over his shoulders. “I’m sorry, for I must go tend to my father.” Diavolo whispered to Barbatos. The butler nodded. “Of course, My Lord. I’ll take care of the brothers.” Diavolo quickly made his way out of the room. Barbatos draped a blanket over top of Mammon and began to get to work on his and Levi’s wounds. 

***

“Oi! Watch what you’re touching, demon!”

“Mammon stop moving.” 

“For fuck sake Mammon quit whining.” 

“...I’m hungry.”

Lucifer’s head was still pounding when he woke. Was that Mammon? Of course it was, he could recognize his aggravating complaints anywhere. And were those voices the twins? His eyes began to flutter open and he turned his head over to where the noise was coming from. His vision was still a bit blurry, but he could see that Barbatos was leaning over his brother, attempting to stitch one of Mammon’s many cuts that covered his body. “Mmm…Mammon. Enough.” Lucifer mumbled as he attempted to sit up. Everyone stopped what they were doing to stare at their eldest brother. “Lucifer, please don’t move!” Barbatos shouted. All of a sudden, 2 small black forms were holding him down onto the bed. “W-What the hell?!” he gasped, but he didn’t have the energy to fight them off. The little creatures appeared to be demons, but took on a very different form than what Barbatos and Diavolo did. “Those are called ‘Little D’s’ apparently. They’re kind of cute though.” said a voice next to him. He looked over to see Asmodeus, who was sitting cross legged on his bed and sipping something from a mug. Lucifer noticed that his brother also dawned a set of horns, and 2 sets of small wings on his back. 

Asmo could feel Lucifer’s stare on him, so he kept his eyes on the little demons as they bounced away. Only one stayed behind to tuck a blanket around Lucifer’s bare shoulders. “Asmo…everyone’s here?” he asked, tugging the blanket further around himself. 

Asmo nodded, finally looking at his brother. “Yes, we’re all safe. All except, well…” he trailed off. Lucifer let out a sigh. His brother didn’t have to finish to know where his thoughts were heading. Lilith. Before Lucifer could reply, Diavolo entered the room. “Hello boys, how are we feeling this evening?” he said, cheerfully. Mammon rolled his eyes. “How do ya think? Your butler currently has a needle in my ass.” Diavolo crossed his arms and let out a loud chuckle. “My apologies, it seems I've come in at an unpleasant time.” Lucifer sighed, rubbing his forehead. “Don’t apologize, Diavolo, he’s just an idiot.” Diavolo smiled softly and made his way over to Lucifer, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. “Lucifer, there’s something I need to discuss with you privately.” Lucifer blinked at the red haired demon. Remember. Absolute loyalty. “Of course.” 

The other brothers were looking their way, obviously trying to eavesdrop on the conversation. “When we found you…and after the incident with your wings…” he whispered. Lucifer flinched. He was actively trying to forget about his embarassing outburst. “After you passed out…we found something. Or rather…someone.” Diavolo said quietly. Lucifer’s eyes widened. “W-What are you talking about?” The future demon king hesitated. “I could show you, if you’d like. I just don’t want to push you too soon.” Lucifer locked eyes with the demon. His voice grew louder. “Tell me what’s going on right now.” Diavolo didn’t even flinch at the sternness of Lucifer’s voice. “Come on in, Satan.” All eyes shot to the doorway of the infirmary. A small child with blonde hair entered. He had long, winding S-shaped horns and a black, spikey tail which faded into a bright green at the tip. 

“Uh, Lucifer…who the hell is this?”

Chap. 3 : The Avatar of Wrath

[snakeboistan]

Just Out Of Reach

My exams are finally over so have some touch-starved!Nagisa 

Pairing: Nagisa x 3-E

AO3 LINK

Shiota Nagisa was a loner. He always had been for as long as he could remember.

When he was in elementary school, he was the weird kid - the strange girl-boy that hardly talked and no one could understand. His male classmates thought that he was too girly to take part in their games or join their conversations and whilst his female classmates didn’t mind his appearance that much, they knew better than to associate with him lest they too fall victim to the taunts and sneers that followed him everywhere, or the relentless bullying that inconvenienced him every breaktime. However, he didn’t mind - friends were a luxury he couldn’t afford anyway (his mother didn’t approve of him spending time out of the apartment, away from her). He would have his own fun by sitting himself down in his school’s library and bury his head in a book, getting lost in worlds that weren’t mean, or cold, or judgemental. Or he’d sit on a bench in the school playground, homemade lunch in hand, and observe his peers hug and high five and laugh together, whilst ignoring the strange pang of something that would curl in his stomach, wanting more than ever for something he could never have.

 Even during his first year of Junior High, when he met the red haired genius of a delinquent called Karma, he didn’t let himself indulge in what normal friends would do. Sure, he felt comfortable around the first friend he’d ever had (though the unnatural comfort was often overshadowed by the awe and admiration that he was allowed in the company of someone as brilliant as Akabane Karma) but Karma had his own walls, his own issues and lack of trust, so there was always that unspoken distance between them, that slight tenseness that lingered between every (very) rare arm that was slung over his shoulder. Though they walked side by side, it was never hand in hand. Though they spent every free minute together there were never any fist bumps or high fives or hugs (Nagisa wondered if Karma even knew what hugs were). Karma kept to himself and so did he - they both had boundaries that the other respected.

 Until, Karma left. And he was alone again. 

 And as much as he said that he didn’t mind it - as much as he told himself that he was used to it ever since he woke up that one day and his father was nowhere to be found, the shouts and screams of his parents having their nth argument ringing in his ears even though his house was pitch quiet for once - it hurt. So when he was sent to E-Class with his head hung low and the voices of his former classes whispering their disgust trailing after him, he looked at the grenade in his hand and knew that he had nothing left to lose.

  (So why did Koro-Sensei save him? And why did it feel so good? )

  (And why did that mucus-like membrane shrouding him make his chest heat up with a feeling he’s never felt before?)

  It was during their lunch break when it happened.

 Nagisa was sitting by cross-legged at the base of a tree, reading an article about an upcoming superhero flick, whilst a group of his classmates were throwing, hitting and bouncing a ball in a game that Yada had called ‘don’t let the ball touch the ground’ but Kimura dubbed ‘the floor is lava for the ball and not us’ (he’ll let the jury decide which title was better) when he heard some rustling above him followed by groans.

 “Okajima,” Maehara whined, “you hit it too high.”

 “I’m sorry okay,” Okajima said, “I didn’t mean to get it stuck in some branch.”

 “Don’t worry,” Yada smiled at him, “I’m sure that we can get it down if we stand on each others shoulders or something.”

 “I don’t know,” Kataoka frowned. She looked up, making sure to cover her eyes from the sun, at the cursed branch, “it’s pretty high up. It’s safer for us to go and get a ladder.”

 “No need,” Nagisa said. Unbeknownst to them, the moment Nagisa had gotten whiff of what had happened, he jumped up and, as silent as a serpent, leaped nimbly from branch to branch until he reached the one with the ball. He carefully plucked it from where it was nestled in a groove before making his way back down again, all just before Kataoka spoke. He threw it into her hands.

 “What the- how the hell did you even do that?” Maehara’s jaw was dropped, frantically looking between the ball and the branch it was (he swore) a second ago.

 “How did no one even see him?” Okajima whispered.

 “Thank you, Nagisa,” Kurahashi beamed with the intensity of a thousand suns and threw her arms around him in one of her famous bear hugs, laughing in that usual bubbly way she always does. Nagisa freezes mid-flinch, almost petrified at the sudden contact. An unfamiliar warmth starts to spread across his chest. It was nice and almost comforting, drowning him with bright yellows and gentle goldens - making him feel like he was special. It took everything in him to not melt into it, a keening noise stuck at the base of his throat.

 When his mother touches him, he feels the sharp talons of her nails digging into his skin. When she pecks his cheek or forehead, he has to stop himself from wincing at the way cyanide seems to burn him where her lips leave. In all honesty, he’d rather the sharp slaps and objects flying at him, at least those forms of pain where only physical and didn’t leave a confusing sense of dichotomy where his emotions that craved for the positive contact to linger battled where his fight-or-flight survival instincts screamed at him to scrub every single atom of her off of him. Touch was something he could neither afford nor understand. 

 If he wanted warmth, he’d wrap himself up in scarves and throw on soft jumpers; if he wanted to feel safe, he’d make sure to do everything he can to not trigger his mother into another eruption; if he wanted contact then he’d find his old plushies buried deep in the confines of his closet and embrace them in hopes that it would be enough. For him, the closest he’s ever gotten to feeling that void in his chest was when words of affirmation would wash over him (it’s no secret to anyone that compliments can render him unable to function)(but can you blame him when compliments to him are as rare as painite?).

 When Kurahashi let go of him to go regale Yada with stories from a nature documentary she watched the night prior, he’s still stock still, dumbstruck, from that momentary embrace. He wanted her to come back so that he could feel it again. He wanted to feel her arms around his body like a safe little cocoon. He wanted to submit to that sunshine-like comfort and never get out of it. He craved that warmth so much it hurt him - why did it hurt so much?

 It made him feel so wanted . And lov-

 Is this why people hold hands all the time? 

 Later that night, he crushed one of his stuffed animals against his chest as he wrapped his arms around his body. He wondered why his pillowcase had wet stains on it when he woke up the next day.

 (He ignored the answer that gnawed him at the back of his mind)

  The second time he felt it was during a ‘completely necessary class bonding sleepover extravaganza’ (as Fuwa had put it) at the Nakamura household. With the blonde’s parents out of the country to visit her older brother, she had her entire house to herself - a house that was miraculously large enough to house twenty-seven teenage assassins in training (as well the phones that contained ‘Mobile Ritsu’).

“I still don’t understand why we can’t watch anime,” Fuwa pouted from her position on the kitchen island, her One-Piece-themed-socks-clad feet kicking up and down as she took another spoonful from the bowl of snickerdoodle cookie dough she had nicked from Hara and swallowed it, “it’s practically a staple for every good sleepover.”

 “Because, Fuwa,” Nakamura drawled in reply, her own hands busy pouring popcorn into bowls, “none of us want to see you go full otaku during our relaxing evening.”

 “It’s nothing against you Fuwa,” Nagisa had cut in quickly, having had made eye-contact with Isogai and Hara as the three of them were washing and drying the baking equipment they were using (“‘You know we have a dishwasher right?” Nakamura had called in amusement) and their combined parental instincts had deemed it necessary to extinguish anything that could potentially start something (and knowing this class, mountains can be made out of molehills as quickly as Koro-Sensei can fly from continent to continent), “it’s just that we think it might be a good idea to have more variety tonight. Next time we have a class movie night, you can choose anything you want.”

 “I’m holding you to that, Shiota,” Fuwa pointed her spoon at him with narrowed eyes before sliding herself off the table and sauntering off towards the living room.

 “She’s not going to get sick, eating all of that raw cookie dough, is she?” Nakamura asked, staring at the doorway.

 Hara smiled at her, “don’t worry, we made the dough edible.” She gave Nagisa a head pat with a slightly soapy hand, “you can finish with that bowl you’re drying and help me bring these trays to the living room, ‘kay Nagisa?”

 Nagisa nodded bashfully, trying to hide the redness that blossomed over his cheeks in reaction to Hara’s hand making contact with his scalp.

  "What do you mean 'we should watch a horror movie'?" Isogai asked his friend.

 "Exactly that class prez," Maehara grinned at the brunette, "you can't have a sleepover without a few screams."

 "Nor can you have one without anime but here we are," Fuwa grumbled to herself.

 "But what if people get scared?" Isogai asked, as always being the Ikeman he is and thinking about others. Bless him.

 "That's the point," Nakamura chirped, "it's the perfect bonding exercise. Nothing can bring together a group of rag-tag misfits like fear."

 "But-"

 "Don't worry," Nakamura said, "we have Karma and Hazama with us. I can assure that whatever we see on the television will be nowhere nearly as scary as them."

 "True that," the class sighed as the two students in question gave eerie, self-satisfied smirks.

 "Not to mention that we're all assassins in training," Okano said, "no evil spirit or crazy murderer would stand a chance against us."

 "And if they do, we can just sacrifice Terasaka to them," Hazama piped up, not even looking up from her book.

 "HEY! WHAT THE HELL?!"

 "Yeah, Hazama," Karma smirked, "as if they would even want him."

 "OI AKABANE, WHAT'S YOUR DEAL?!"

 "Hey, Nagisa," Kayano turned to her friend as Karma stuck his tongue out at Terasaka, "what kind of horror movies do you like?"

 “I don’t know,” Nagisa replied, idly tracing the outlines of the cartoon sushi pieces that patterned his pyjama bottoms, “I’ve never watched any horror movies so I wouldn’t know what is good.”

 Maehara grinned at them from under the hood of his Pikachu onesie, “Then have no fear, Nagisa. As a movie connoisseur-”

 “I thought that title was reserved for me?” Mimura raised his hand with an arched eyebrow.

 “-I would be more than happy to educate you, my young padawan-”

 “-I’m pretty sure he’s older than you,” Okano pointed out.

 “On the art of Horror Movie Binge-athons,” Maehara declared, ignoring the interruptions and pointing at the blunette in a very Fuwa-esque way.

 So that was how Nagisa found himself on one of the couches, two scream-fests later, sandwiched between Karma and Sugino, watching the end credits of The Ring. From his perch, he watched in interest at the horror-struck faces of his classmates below.

 “Dude,” Kimura breathed out in fear when the screen turned black, a shaky hand attempting to comfort a very visibly distressed Okajima, who had the athlete in a bone-crushing hug from behind as he hid behind him, “I am never going to answer a phone again.”

 After a full ten seconds of silence, the smartphone that was lying in front of him lit up, and the Sonic theme song ‘Gotta Go Fast’ cut through the air like a knife. Kimura jumped about a foot in the air, screaming, whilst the others around him did the same. Muramatsu and Yoshida, clung tighter onto Hazama, yelling about how they were too young to die whilst Okajima and Okano began praying to the gods.

 “Karma, stop it,” Nagisa sighed without even looking at the redhead next to him. When Karma smirked and ended the call on his phone, thus terminating the ringing, he turned and raised an unamused eyebrow at a snickering Nakamura who was filming the entire scene on her own phone. The blonde winked at him and raised a peace sign.

 “I know what we should watch next,” Yoshida said after a while and took the remote. He began to scroll through the movie suggestions on the screen, “Coraline.”

 “Isn’t ‘Coraline’ a kids’ movie?” Kataoka furrowed her eyebrows as she eyed the cartoonish movie poster on the television.

 Coraline was not a kids’ movie. It was a horrific abomination of nightmare fuel dolled up with pretty colours and a talking cat. At least with the other films they had watched that night, he was able to stand - jump scares don’t really work on someone that’s constantly on edge and no CGI generated creature of the supernatural could terrify him as the very real harpy that he shares a roof with. At most he stiffens up or just trains his eyes onto the kernels of popcorn that get sent flying whenever Okajima gets particularly frightened. He usually just tries to deconstruct the story from a logical standpoint, making sure to point out to himself the plot-holes to enhance the fact that it’s nothing more than fiction (instead of making these comments out loud like Sugaya and end up having a brigade of throw pillows assaulted onto him). However watching The Other Mother, who spoke with a honey-sweet tone but had that distinct aura of ‘threat threat threat’ made him feel more chills than watching the disfigured Samara Morgan crawl out of a television and murder people and whilst the revelation of her true colours weren’t completely unpredictable, it didn’t and the fear and acid crawling up his stomach.

  ‘You may come out... when you've learned to be a loving daughter!’

  ‘How dare you disobey your mother!’

 It was after watching that vile woman drag Coraline into that dark chamber and locking her inside it when he couldn’t take it. His frozen facade and almost petrified posture just broke. He lurched, fumbling for the blanket draped over his legs and pulled it up so that he could cover his head and buried himself under it. With his knees drawn up under the covers, he focused on controlling his breathing and trying to steady his shaking hands and starting-to-blur eyes in an attempt to push away the unpleasant flashbacks hissing around in his head like a viper. Suddenly out of nowhere, he felt a hand gently circle his wrist. He tensed, heart rate speeding up in a panic, before his skin registered the familiar feel of polyester - the material of Sugino’s red sweatbands (wait, does he even wear them to sleep? ). When he had physically relaxed, the- Sugino’s hand slowly and carefully - giving him ample time to pull away - moved his own and away from his legs and then interlocked his fingers between his. The skin on skin contact at the base of his fingers had caused the same warmth he had felt with Kurahashi spreading across his entire arm, stopping at his chest and swirling around like a mixture of comfort and elation, like he had just drank a cup of steaming milk tea. He steadily curled his own fingers downwards, letting the tips press down against the baseball-lover’s knuckles. The only response he got was a tight squeeze in return - not hard enough to sting but still grounding in a sense.

 Okay.

 He was okay, he can do this.

 It was during the climax of the film, when Coraline confronts that button-for-eyes-wearing she-devil, when Nagisa abandoned all inhibitions and pulled on the hand intertwined with his own, simultaneously pulling Sugino down and bringing himself up so that he could wrap his arms around the black-haired boy. His uncharacteristic actions even shocked himself but all of his usual anxiety’s of forcing his problems on others were pushed back by the voice in his head saying ‘safe safe safe get closer closer ’. With his eyes squeezed shut so tight they almost hurt, he felt something wet roll down his cheek and so he tightened the hold he had on his best friend. Sugino reciprocated, one of his own hands gently cupping the back of his head, fingers burying past silken blue hair, so that he could very lightly bring the other’s face closer and tuck it underneath his chin. Now normally, Nagisa would have combusted with embarrassment at being so close to another student, especially in such a public setting like this, but right now he felt like nothing more than some primal urge begging him to soak in as much of that embrace as possible. To be selfish for once and just stay as close as he can even if it means he dies there. To let himself be vulnerable for a change. The movie, those memories they all washed away and he felt nothing but safe….

  The next morning he woke up with his head on someone’s shoulder, a fluffy blanket raised upto his chin. He blinked the haziness out of his eyes to find himself in front of inky locks.

 “You alright there, Nagisa?” Sugino looked at him with a smile. Oh he was already up. That’s new.

 Nagisa’s eyes widened, his face erupting with redness as the events of the previous night replayed in his inner-theatre like those epic fail compilations Karma likes to laugh at. He jumped back to the other end of the couch, as far away from Sugino as possible.

 “Oh god, Sugino, I am so sorry,” Nagisa whispered as loudly as he could without waking up his still snoozing classmates, “what happened last night was so weird and I put you in such an awkward position and I’m super sorry I swear that will never happen again and you must’ve been so embarrassed honestly you should've just pushed me off when I fell asleep I really wouldn’t have minded this was so weird and-”

 “Nagisa, chill,” Sugino moved closer and placed a hand on the rambling boy’s shoulder, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards with slight amusement, “it’s cool. It’s normal for people to get scared during horror movies - it’s kind of the reason why they were made, you know. Besides if you looked really distressed and if I couldn’t do anything to help you then why are we even friends.”

 “Yeah but-”

 “No buts,” Sugino cut in, “you’re always ready to help others so don’t be surprised to find otu that others want to help you.”

 Nagisa sighed. He looked up at the other boy with a slight blush, “well, um, thank you. For that. It was really nice of you.”

 Sugino’s hand squeezed on his shoulder and he felt that familiar thrill shoot down his arm as the taller smiled, “no problem, Nagisa.”

 (“Next time we decide to do a bonding activity,” Fuwa says during breakfast as she’s munching through a honey dripping pancake, “we should all go camping.”

 Collectively the class shuddered, their minds being filled with visions of Fuwa holding up a chainsaw on full speed and running around like a mad woman, of fire enveloping a forest and demolishing a once peaceful campsite and dark grey mushroom clouds puffing out like an ashy eruption, “no thank you.”)

  For some reason he finds himself in these sort of situations more and more. Like when he feels himself clinging closer to Okano when she bridal carries him up the mountain after he had injured his leg during a training exercise (which is interesting because normally being in such an unmasculine position would make his insecurities flare up like crazy); or when his arms tighten around Karma so much that it feels like their bodies are going to fuse together when the red head piggy-back carries him during a race; or when he just sighs in contentment when Maehara slings him over his shoulder instead of flailing around like he usually would when the brown-eyed boy declared that he was studying too hard and ‘offered’ to take him karaoke singing with everyone else.

 In the back of his mind, he feels like the amount of affectionate touches he receives have almost quadrupled in size -  there hasn’t been a day where he hasn’t gotten either a head pat, friendly noogie or side hug. There was even a tickling incident that led to his male classmates dogpiling him (because in 3-E the A in PDA can also mean aggression).

 No one comments on it though.

 It’s almost like Irina-Sensei’s comment about the students of 3-E having ‘some creepy hive mind’ is actually true.

 (That comment actually lead to the class planning via group chat to speak in monotonic unison in front of her for an entire half an hour just to mess with her. It worked.)

  “I still don’t understand why you people like drinking this leaf juice,” Fuwa scrunched her nose at the ceramic cup in her hand. Due to the pleasant weather, Kanzaki, Kayano and Okuda decided to have a tea party and Nagisa being the tea lover that he was was more than happy to accept their invitation.

 “Hey,” Kayano glared at her, making a shooing gesture with one of her hands, “Group four only.”

 “Kayano,” Nagisa said firmly, “she can stay if she wants.”

 “But she’s disrespecting the tea.”

 Nagisa shook his head and sighed whilst Kanzaki giggled into her cup.

 “Listen Fuwa,” Kayano rounded on the female otaku, “whilst I stand by the statement that pudding is the closest thing to perfection humanity has ever created and I would sell this entire class for a lifetime supply of pudding cups without a second thought (“Say what now?” Nagisa backtracked), a cup of nice warm tea can truly heal your soul. It’s science.”

 “That is true,” Okuda piped up, gently pushing her glasses up, “a cup of hot anything in your hands mimics human warmth which is said to have calming properties. So it basically means that warm drinks can mimic the need for human care and touch.”

 ‘ Well ,’ Nagisa blinked, thinking back to the mountain of tea bags that reside in his bedroom’s dustbin, ‘ that explains a lot. ’

 “So if you guys ever feel too single,” Fuwa laughed and gave them double finger guns, “you know what to do.”

 Whilst the rest of his company gave responding giggles, Nagisa felt a tug on his elbow and let it go limp to allow the greenette sitting next to him to tug it downwards. When he felt her link her pinky with his he turned to look at her to see a sunny beam directed straight at him.

 And he smiles back.

 Because he’s not alone anymore.

[bigsharkdaddy]

You all forcing my hand over here SO HERE WE GO...

King can be considered much closer in physiology to a shark than to a human. His father was a shark shapeshifter (shark was his primary form but he could become any fish he desired, as well as human) and his mother a human, but since his father was a god... it’s no surprise it was his side of the gene pool that had the overhand. This is why King is so obviously a shark. It’s why he will always identify more with them than with humans.

And because you are all horrible, I guess that means you want explanation on the status of what’s between his legs. I’ve already touched on the subject when I talked about his fins here, but I know I glossed it over. Because it was not the point of the headcanon.

If you read the fin headcanon, you’ll see me mentioning his pelvic fins. They sit on his lower belly, let’s say the outer edge sort of lines up with the classic V of a well-toned body. They’re not very noticable because they are the same shade of greyish white that his stomach is, and he keeps them flat against his body due to their inconvenient location (right where the waistband of pants would sit). He can’t wear belts due to them, but thankfully he has a royally blessed ass to keep pants up. Yes, we’re going with it.

Continuing under the cut.

So, to understand King’s genitals, let me first teach you about sharks. Sharks have a cloaca, yes, like the bird memes. That means they have one opening that works for everything that needs to leave their body. This goes for both female and male sharks. However, male sharks have something that’s known as claspers. Sounds weird, and it kind of is.

Claspers shown on the left. Arrow points to the location of the cloaca.

Essentially these can indeed be compared to dicks. Both have a channel for sperm, but officially claspers are extensions of the pelvic fins. As a male shark matures, they grow in size along with the rest of the animal, and they calcify somewhat. These are not only soft-tissue appendages, but also have cartilage in them. Claspers are also a kind of extra part of the cloaca. When necessary, the sperm gets moved from the cloaca into the claspers. Note that due to King’s different physical shape than a shark, his cloaca sits slightly lower, right below the pubic arch.

Now, I know you’re all nasties who wanna get on that, but know that at the end of claspers are spurs that will keep him inside a female. Not super comfortable. And usually the male bites onto the female’s pectoral fin to stay in place. It’s not a nice, loving scene.

Spurs shown on the right.

Now, why does he have two? When a shark mates, he grabs onto the female’s fin, I already told you that. But that makes him line up along her on one side, and thus they usually only use the clasper on that side of the body.

Yes, it is very much possible for King to use both claspers, and they work the same, but when it comes to it... he just rather doesn’t. No particular reason. Just doesn’t like it much. I’d say his are both around 17 inches long, and as mentioned in the fin headcanon, he typically wears them laying comfortably back between his legs. Have I made the joke that he tucks? I have.

Also an important detail is that King doesn’t just release sperm, but he releases something called ‘spermatophores‘, which essentially comes down to small balls of sperm rather than a stream. These are about the size of a walnut, in a thin membrane like a bubble with the sperm inside it. I recommend swallowing the entire thing before it bursts in your mouth because it tastes EXTREMELY salty.

I HOPE THAT’S ENOUGH OR YOU ALL.

TL;DR: King has a set of ‘claspers’ that are essentially two penises, and hidden behind them, sitting right between his pelvic fins, is his cloaca.

[professormembranexreader]

Membrane x Fem! Reader x Clembrane (OOO BABY A TRIPLE)

TW: Toxic Relationships, Mental Illness, Roleplay, Degradation, BDSM

(Y/N)'s POV

It was weird, what we had. It wasn't the norm, but things couldn't be too normal when there is a failed clone of a man along with said man living in the same household.

The norm was very different in the Membrane home. Instead of a nuclear family system,  Membrane allowed Clem to be a second father to his children. Meaning I was unofficially married to both of them. When one was busy, the other was there to spend time with me. Not to mention it meant the kids had more chances to play with their dads.

In reality, the only con was the cooking situation. Both of them were cooking disasters. One made toast with a blowtorch and the other made semi-edible pudding appear out of nowhere. Needless to say, neither were allowed in the kitchen. Due to that, I did all the cooking. Which lead to a good thing about the situation. Every meal, we would eat as a family. And it was comforting to know that no matter what I made, it would be better than anyone else could do.

But I still had my doubts. I try to be a good wife for my husbands. I spend time with the kids with them, I cook for them, I occasionally clean... but it never feels good enough. No matter how much I kid myself, Clem isn't human, and Membrane cares about science more than he cares about me.

It wasn't the norm, that's for sure. But it was our norm. And the closest we could get to a real family. After all this talk, I should probably say where they are. Membrane was going to be coming home any minute now and Clem was currently outside with the kids. I didn't feel like joining them, so I was preparing dinner.

Lately, Membrane has been bringing home his work attitude—not the friendly goofball I fell in love with. He was distant, and more reserved. Outgoing, still, but he was different. He didn't treat me like a wife—more like that of a coworker he was having an affair with.

Distantly, the door slammed. He was home.

"How was work tod-" he cut me off before I could finish.

"Office. Now." His smooth baritone voice whispered. I set down the potato I was peeling and followed him to his office. He only ever ordered me around like that for sex.

My eyelids drooped. I wasn't feeling it right now, but maybe I would once we got into it. It may happen. Even if I had the strength to say no, he wouldn't take it as an answer. I slowly trudged my way to his office.

He was waiting for me. He cleared off his desk and shoved me on it. It hurt.

"You want that promotion?" He asked. So this was our roleplay this time. It took everything in me to shake my head yes. He yanked me off the desk and forced me onto my knees.

"Then you better get to work." I unbuttoned his pants, unzipping them as well. His cock's outline bulged through his underwear and top. It was stuck standing vertically via the waistband. I pulled his boxers down and it landed right next to my mouth.

I took a deep breath and sighed outwardly before running my tongue across his length. After a few licks, he grew impatient and forced me to suck on his dick.

He groaned as I began to hum against him. "Estás como una puta, ¿sabes?" He said. It hurt, but I didn't let it faze me. I just continued to suck and hollow out my cheeks. "Apuesto que te encanta el sabor de mi semen." He moaned out.

Each dirty comment both dampened my mood and my panties. While I hated it, it never failed to get me wet. I began to whine on his dick. The vibration sent him over the edge and caused him to cum in my mouth without warning. The saltiness caught me off guard; I almost gagged.

He wiped some semen off of my lips and kissed me, tasting himself. In this motion he lifted me and carried me up by my thighs and started to go to the bedroom. Despite my safety being secure, I held onto him for my life. We broke the kiss and panted, gasping for air. He continued to carry me to the bedroom as he laid kisses upon my neck.

He pushed the door open and threw me onto the bed. I went ahead and took off my clothes as he did the same. Once we were down to our underwear, he got on top of me and pinned my hands above my head.

He dragged his tongue across my neck, making me shudder in anticipation.  "Me dejas regresar el favor, mi amor." He whispered into my neck. "Quiero."

"Then go ahead." I breathed. He released my hands and shifted his head towards my sex. He spread my legs like butter. He stuck out his tongue and licked up and down my vagina before entering. I felt him from inside me. Tasting me. Teasing me. He shifted my hips and prodded even further. My hands clutched his hair as he pleasured me. The constant sensation of his tongue pulsing within me drove me crazy in the best of ways. I tried my best to stifle my moans and whimpers, but was only partially successful. It was enough for the kids not to hear at least.

It wasn't long before I lost myself to him. I felt my eyes cross as a knot in my stomach began to unravel. And just like that, I came on his face. He lapped up what he could hungrily. After he decided he was done, he lifted himself up and looked me in my eyes.

"Te cogeré muy fuerte, verás estrellas para meses." My face was already flushed, but it somehow got redder at the saucy Spanish.

He smirked, put a condom on, and began to position his cock to line up with me. I was still coming down from my high when, using his hand, he lifted me up by my ass and sheathed himself in me. He paused momentarily to let me adjust, but after that, he was ruthless. He began at a brisk pace, pumping inside me like there was no tomorrow. Maybe he wanted it to be over with. Maybe he was just doing this to get off. But it didn't matter. In the moment all that mattered was us. My nails clawed his back, leaving long red trails down his shoulder blades. He continued to thrust while I tried to keep quiet. If we were lucky, Clem was rebuilding the "spaceship" the kids found and no one would hear.

The act continued until he managed to hit my G-spot. I bit down sharply on my lip and tasted blood. He got the hint and re adjusted his position so that he would be focused on that point. Recklessly, he slammed into me. Over. And over. And over. The familiar knot reappeared and was dangerously close to coming undone.

"Babe- I'm close!" I choked out between moans. He grunted a small "mhmm" and kept thrusting. It quickly turned sloppy as he picked up the pace. A few moments later, I came once more. Seconds later, I felt the condom fill inside me. It was still weird how much cum he actually produces.

Carefully he pulled out and tossed the used condom in the trash. I was still splayed out on the bed as he began to pull his clothes back on.

"Where are you going?" I asked in a moment of clarity. He looked at my trembling form and continued to walk away.

My heart broke as I heard his heavy footsteps echo through the halls. I covered myself with the bedsheets and softly began to sob. I felt used. Abandoned. Neglected. Tears stained the sheets as I heard another set of footsteps near the door.

"Have you come back here to taunt me?" I barked. I pulled the sheets up to cover my breasts as the door began to open. It was Clem. I reached out for him and he came rushing to me.

"What's wROng, (Y/N)?" He asked. (I'm gonna get sick of writing his voice I'm already telling you.)

"He just left me here, Clem." I sputtered. "He fucked me and then he LEFT!"

Clem put a comforting hand on my back and began to rub circles. He let me cry openly into his broad chest as I mumbled about what had happened.

"I didn't even want to do it in the first place! I was just cooking dinner and he said-"

"Shhhhh. (Y/N). YoU nEEd to cAlm dOWn." He didn't looked me in the eye when I finally stopped crying. I tried to meet his gaze, but he kept avoiding me.

"Please don't ignore me, Clem." I mumbled, barely above a whisper.

He took my head in his rounded hands and said in the softest voice he could, "(Y/N). I wOuld nEVer lEAve yOU."

I looked up to him with pleading eyes. "Never?

"NEVeR." He said. I smiled as one last tears rolled down my cheek.

I embraced him the best I could. "Thank you, Clem," I began. "Thank you so much."

He returned the hug and placed his head on top of mine. I heard him whisper several sweet nothings as I began to drift off to sleep.

He pulled away slightly, before I tugged him closer. "Stay with me. Please." I begged. I didn't want to be left again. I didn't think I could handle it.

I scooted over and made room for him on the bed. I gently patted next to me in hopes that he would lay down next to me.

He hesitated, but decided to do it. He laid down next to me and we started spooning. I heard a surprised gasp from Clem when he pulled my closer underneath the sheets.

"(Y/N)!" He whisper shouted.

"Yes, Clem?"

"YoU'Re nAked!!!" I couldn't help but laugh at his childish nature. I turned towards him and pressed myself closer.

"Yes, Clem. I am naked." I laughed. He was so precious and pure. If the the neighbor boy really did make him, he managed to get the best parts of Membrane in there.

"ShOUld I bE nAked??" He asked. Once again, a giggle bubbles up from my throat.

"Only if you want to, Clem. Only if you want to." I said, reaching out and writing something on a sticky note.

"I'm gOing to kEEp mY clOthes On, thAnk yOu vERy muCH." He said, turning up his nonexistent nose to the idea of dressing himself down.

I turned back at him. "Then you don't have to." I snuggled closer to him. He was practically a nonhuman heater.

Smiling, I placed a kiss on his chin as I got comfortable. I smiled. This is what our relationship should be, Miguel. This is what I need it to be.

And though I may not have it with you right now, I'm happy to have it in with Clem.

Outside POV

Miguel cleaned up the half prepared dinner and ordered Foodio to come out of retirement and make something once more, to which he eagerly accepted. For the remainder of time before the food was ready, he simply worked.

Gaz eyed her dad suspiciously as he ate. She was smart enough to know what happened. And she was smart enough to know he should have stayed.

Once Dib left to go back to terrorizing Zim, she confronted her father about it. The argument between the man and his child got heated. Gaz finally convinced him to check on (Y/N).

Trudging up the stairs, he opened the door to see (Y/N) and Clem cuddling and sleeping together. On the nightstand, there was a post-it note with (Y/N)'s handwriting on it.

"I miss the times like this, Miguel. We need to come back to this."

That night Membrane got into bed with them. It wasn't much, but it was the start of him trying to be there.

[spiritualsymbiosis]

@tetsuwan-atom​:

...Well there's the first worrying sign. The computer screen wasn't even on, the machine wasn't even on. This whole time she hadn't been doing any work? Just... doing stuff on her phone. Who the heck thought it was a good idea to give Digimon phones anyway, there were better ways of monitoring people. Now he's going to have to step in, but he seemed to feel that traditional methods people would use in this situation wouldn't sit right with him. Geez, she was the epitome of sexy, you just had to be careful around her, the way she played with that bubblegum was hot in itself, how she formed such a bubble, bringing it in later. What is it about bubble gum that makes someone attractive?

He noted how while she turned to face him, she wasn't really making eye contact. Figures. The whole scene looked like she would rather be somewhere else, doing something else.. and who could blame her? He would be bored shitless out of his mind if he had to do this on a regular basis. There was good reason why he was better out in the field, because he could physically get stuff done. Even now the memories of hand-typing reports was like prison, try to stay awake, don't fall asleep, catch up on paperwork, all that kind of garbage. So he could in some way relate to her plight, though he had to wonder how she was so blatantly casual in looking stuff up on her phone despite him being there.

Small talk was probably the start of it, but he could see things more pressing already. He had forgotten that really the only other alternative at this stage was agriculture until the program developed a few more legs. Someone like her really wasn't suited to that kind of work anyway. Right now though, he couldn't just let her sit by like this, it wasn't healthy, it was only going to bring problems down the track.. like what was to happen once she was finished? Go back to her old ways? Maybe it was time to help her.

"My name's Bowen, I'm one of the supervisors here in this Division. I.. was wondering if you and I can have a bit of a chat.. walk and talk sort of thing?"

....Jesus that came out bad, but he was trying to be kind, giving her a welcoming smile. This office was damn stuffy anyway, better to get to know her out in the fresh air.

After all, you can't really help someone without getting to know them first.

The thumb that tirelessly scrolled through her feed came to a dead stop, she had caught up now to the last post she had made last night--had she really gone through 10 hours of content in less than ten minutes? Her phone found itself being placed down upon her arm as she leaned forward, perhaps unannounced to her that she was now pushing her breasts forward. Eyes focused on the other as he spoke, but words would smack her in her face as she didn’t register any of what he was saying. However, she picked up on a few words, at least letting those sink into her membrane. Walk? Talk? She’d love to get out of this class for sure.

↳ 悪魔 “ Are you even old enough to walk yet ? ” 悪魔 ↵

He did walk over here--she knew nothing about human anatomy and how they worked. She knew they were useless until about two when they started walking and feeding themselves, and she heard that they weren’t even fully developed until they were 25 years of age, at least brain wise. This little boy probably had his balls dropped by now. How old was he? By Lucemon this would kill her, learning what they were. 

Now that she thought about it, this boy was older than the snot nose brats that defeated the Dark Lords; how did this happen? A free hand would pull on her shirt to open it up, fingers pulling on the fabrics of her bra to open and expose her nipple--to those looking above her at least--and place her phone in her bra. Standing, shed turn to grab her purse and throw the thin strap over her shoulder. 

↳ 悪魔 “ Alright, but if you cop a feel, it’s only fair I warn you no law will protect you from my slapping the shit out of you. ” 悪魔 ↵

Even though she’d be lying had she not wanted him to at least try. Not a single man in this dump had tried to come on to her. Was it because of her file? Was it because her lower forms were animals? 

[lorei-writes]

Fairy Tales for Bedtime

The King of Liars

Shingen x MC Fantasy AU (Fairy Tale-ish) Choose Your Own Ending*

Ahh, it’s finally done! I don’t even know what to say, other than I’m so happy. I can barely see now, because I wanted to edit it instantly after I finished writing it and then post it. Allow me to invite you into a fantasy setting of yet another type. You won’t regret it.

*- Fluff or Angst

Word Estimate: 4.5k

Content Warnings: kidnapping, food (main); none (Dream ending); death (Nightmare Ending)

Sweet wind played with her hair, clementine mist extending its reach over to the terrace, dispersing through air like ink droplets submerged in water. Her hands resting atop the railing, her feet rose above the ground – she could have sworn Shingen had to hold back a gasp, her upper body tilting forward as if she was about to fall. She stopped, however, only gazing into the depths below them, starts seemingly calling out to her. “They’re beautiful,” she whispered, the gentle hum of the sky cushioning her voice. “Would you want to see them from up close?” Soles of her shoes clacked against the tiles, her skirt swirling as she turned to face him. “Could you do that?” One foot on the railing, Shingen pushed himself up. Without losing his balance, he leaned forward and offered her his hand, the words she wanted to hear leaving his lips. “I don’t know.” Yes, of course.

Long, long ago, when seas of grass heaved undisturbed by human influence, it was still believed that summer solstice held a special kind of power. It was celebrated as such, flames higher than trees attempting to touch the night sky while laughter flew abundantly over rivers, flower crowns being carried downstream. As day touched the night, humans seemed to awaken, pushing past the borders of the unsafe darkness, their voices daring to pierce through the harmonious buzzing of the forests. For an untrained ear, it would seem silence didn’t exist then, that it was banished outside the borders of the human realm and replaced by joy… Yet it lurked somewhere else, somewhere where the slightest mistake could be paid with the greatest of prices.

She stared into the well, silver moonlight being reflected at her from below. She breathed in deeply. Air seemed to electrify, prompted by her chants. “Mirror, mirror from below, Tell me tales I shouldn’t know, Show me days that are to come, Mirror, mirror, hear my call.” The water bubbled, a whirlwind appearing in the very centre of it, colours beginning to separate on its surface. She leaned it closer, her eyes shining with curiosity, images of the future forming to answer her pleas. Her lungs begged for the air, not even a breath being invited into them as she strived to stay perfectly still. Just a little longer, just until she saw it, and then she’d be able to let it go, to let time flow the way it’s supposed to…

A leaf flew past her head, swirling in the air before being sucked into the well, her eyelids twitching as she failed to stop them from moving. Her eyes opened wider as terror overtook her. She sprung back, her clothing already twisting, pulling her towards the water. She tore it – to no avail, her entire body being swallowed with force she couldn’t oppose. In her descent, she turned around, lush greenery emerging from the silver water, sliding up the walls of the well as if to cushion her fall. A scream died in her throat, consumed by everlasting silence that seemed to have taken a permanent residence within her.

The world around her morphed, initially fading into darkness and then erupting into a sea of vivid streaks. Trees hung suspended in the air, endless ocean of azure spreading far below her, carnivorous clouds rushing underneath the surface of the water. Sun chasing them around, they took shelter in reefs of long branches extending from above, phasing through the jewels growing in place of leaves. The reality slowly making itself known to her, she began to panic, her hands combing through the air in a desperate attempt to find anything to grasp onto. Her heart stopped – the sky exploded in pink mist, its edges spilling in various ripples around her.

“A human? Poor soul,” a voice vibrated through her.

Initially stunned, few things escaped her attention, her body only later catching onto the change in its position. Buzzing in her ears drowning out all sounds, she hid her face behind her arms, her eyes suddenly beginning to burn. She coughed – and just as it started, it was over, her head spinning as she snapped it to look up. She shouted, her body jolting back, strong hands keeping her in an embrace. “You don’t want to fall? Keep on doing that,” the person laughed, huge irises in shade of lime green piercing though her. Instect-like wings fluttered behind their back, colours of the sunrise being seemingly enchanted in the thin membrane spreading between each resemblant of a bone part. “Azla!” another voice called. “King said not to bring any new spoils back. Just let her fall.” “The clouds aren’t hungry,” they whined. “What a pleasant time, really.” “I’ll gladly listen to your problems later, please, pour your heart out.” Her arms trembled, her gaze travelling from her captor to the man, confusion flooding her senses. A pointy nose almost brushed against her cheek, ultramarine hair falling onto her face. “You’re kinda cute. You make me want to eat you.” “Please, do,” the person holding her replied. “Now.” She winced, yet no harm came her way, wind beginning to hum in her ears anew.

The travel was fast, fast enough to be both deafening and blinding, pushing her further into a state of deep confusion. Lost and certain only of the fact that the rules had been broken, she did not even attempt to look around, the watercolour-like mists with acidic smell being sufficiently dooming for her mind. The world could have very well frozen, time nearly stopping as she struggled to stay in touch with reality, her heart racing – and only beginning to pick up its pace after they landed. An ivory palace emerged from a forest of vermilion roots, wide trunk extending deep into the navy sky below them, shining starts losing themselves in orange reefs of branches during their never-ending chase. Undisturbed by any predatory moons, they adapted different tactics, some staying in constellations while others opted for a solitary hunt, burning bright as to provide the light for the palace, membranous windows allowing for it to sneak inside. Her captors setting her down, she trembled, soles of her shoes clacking against the glass ground. She focused, willing her mind to take a step forward – yet she stayed still, her body refusing to obey any of her commands. A hand fell onto her shoulder. “Backwards, take your time,” Azla demanded. “I...I can’t,” she forced out, a knot tying itself inside of her throat. The fairy groaned in reply, pinching the bridge of their nose as their gaze focused on the ground. “Feet, pretty please, carry the guest to our King, thank you, have a nice time and enjoy your day.”

Charmed, she rushed forward, barely managing to hold her back upright, each step bringing her closer to collapse. Exempt from her will, her legs acted on their own, speeding past the castle guards and then through the halls, azure carpets eventually disappearing as ornaments became sparser, wood replacing the ivory. Golden window frames turning to metal, gusts of wind snuck inside, each floor being less resemblant of a rich palace than the previous one – until she finally reached the very top of the estate, the last corridor leading directly to what seemed to be a wall taken out of a completely different building. Rather frugal and solid, balks rested firmly atop each other, a door standing in her way. Fearing her feet may not stop, she leaned forward to knock and press the handle, as not to let herself get hurt.

Her body passed the doorstep, her legs instantly collapsing under her weight, no longer supported by magic. Her lungs burning after the run, she breathed in deeply, too tired to notice the pair of grey eyes staring at her from over the table. “What do we have here?” the human-looking person hummed, causing her to snap her head up. Scared, she tried to get out, the door closing behind her back. “An angel? Please, allow me to soothe your worry, you are completely safe now.” “Who are you?” “I am the one in control of the entire realm, the king… Although just for you, I’d suggest using ‘Shingen’ instead,” he explained, offering her a hand. She accepted it, still too shaken to question an existence of another human in the land of the fairies, much less his position or role – and only once she was standing by herself again, did she notice the hem of his sleeve rolling up, burnt sienna marks creeping up the man’s forearm, something deep within his skin shining like copper.

***

The days passed, her existence being contained to the borders of the king’s quarters. Initially assuming she’d meet her end there shortly, she opted to stay by herself, the solitude of the room assigned to her providing her with an odd sense of comfort. Much to her surprise, however, nobody came, only the low humming daring to sneak inside during each meal time, the king himself setting a tray in front of her door. At first, she guessed it would be poisoned… Yet there was little difference in dying from starvation or as a result of a scheme, if anything the latter being preferable in its length. Desperate, she gathered her courage to taste the food.

It was safe, although perhaps a bit too savoury for her liking, some vegetables being additionally somewhat overcooked. She accepted it regardless, her stomach ceasing to growl for the first time in days – and her mouth watered as she reached for the cake, the pastry being perfect in its taste. Encouraged, she gathered the dishes and set them outside, still too cautious to let herself be lured out for longer.

The pattern repeated for few weeks, her senses slowly beginning to adapt to the unusual movement of the sun and the eternal day. Feeling she might be prepared to learn of what was to happen to her, she got up from her bed and walked to the door, ready to open it… A knock came from the other side. “Can we talk?” Shingen asked. “Y-Yeah,” she stuttered.

Following her host, she walked down the corridor, taking careful note of the paintings hanging over the walls, the frames being seemingly out of place. Having seated himself in one of the armchairs, Shingen gestured at her to rest too. He rolled up his sleeves, symmetrical markings spreading up his skin – her eyes widened. “I thought you were a human…” she spoke absent-mindedly. “Have I ever said that? Few humans have managed to live here before, yet I am not one of them.”A faint smile appeared over his face, as if he tried to comfort her. “I… I see. What will happen to me?” “Plenty and precisely nothing.” “I think I don’t understand.” “The well will open in a year and one day, counting from the day of your arrival. I will arrange new quarters for you.” “That’s… That’s not necessary!” she exclaimed, rising her hands in a protective gesture. “I am fine living here.” “Oh, I insist. This year will most likely be a long one for you,” he hummed, something shining deep within his eyes. She did not look close then, though, completely convinced that opposing his command would cost her dearly. As such, she retreated into her room once more.

However, no change happened, Shingen only inviting her to explore his quarters, his private room excluded. She asked for explanation, yet got no reply, her reach slowly expanding until she had seen all parts of the castle at least once. During one such trip, when she ventured out onto the terrace to watch the sentient stars, a fairy landed by her side. “Boo!” Azla exclaimed, his wings fluttering happily as she jumped. “Azla!” Botchka scolded him, soon finding himself by their side. He turned towards her. “My lady, please punish this...Person of the greatest intellect,” he ground through his teeth, causing her to laugh. “Apologies accepted. Or should I say, ‘perish’? I have noticed some of you seem to speak in opposites… But it is different with the king. I don’t think I have it quite figured out…” she trailed off, hoping they’d provide her with enough information to resolve her confusion. “Fairies must speak only truth and king is the only one able to make it sound like an utter and complete lie,” Botchka answered without a hint of hesitation, reaching to entwine his fingers with Azla’s. “For example: I absolutely hate this great, scholarly personality.” “I won’t make a cat poop in your shoes for that,” they muttered, unmoved by the confession.

The woman nodded in reply. “So it’s that simple? I wonder then…”

***

Her suspicions having been confirmed, she chose to learn more, asking the king whether he’d mind if she joined him during the meals. He disagreed, which she assumed was a sign she should try regardless, preparing the table for the both of them. She glanced curiously at him. No reaction. As such, she brought out the stew and the dessert, soon reaching for the bowls to fill them – and yet, one disappeared straight out of her hand, Shingen suddenly materialising in his spot and cutting himself a hefty slice of cake. Content, he sat down, already digging into the crust as she laughed: “This isn’t really a balanced diet.” “I presume you’re right, my angel. After all, I consume human food for the nutritional value alone… Yet I can’t seem to stop myself.” Not quite, my angel. I don’t consume human food for nutritional reasons… Although I could have spared that piece of cake, she tried to understand. “Fairies eat different things? Then why bother with human stuff?” “I’d rather save that story for another time,” Shingen stated, smiling a polite smile. I’d prefer not to share the reason as to why. The woman nodded in reply, her brows knitting together. Her face relaxing a moment later, she rose her gaze and looked at him, the corners of her mouth curling up. At least she was beginning to adapt.

It seemed each day their talks lasted longer, soon exceeding past the meals, the empty plates listening in to the joyous laughter and words of explanation, sometimes hours past their serving time, the king only taking note of them once the next meal came. The dining table soon losing its role of being the bridge between them, it was released from its duty, the pair moving to the living room – and when that ceased to suffice too, they opted to stroll around the castle, her eyes gleaming with curiosity as he revealed the secrets of the fairy realm to her.

Sweet wind played with her hair, clementine mist extending its reach over to the terrace, dispersing through air like ink droplets submerged in water. Her hands resting atop the railing, her feet rose above the ground – she could have sworn Shingen had to hold back a gasp, her upper body tilting forward as if she was about to fall. She stopped, however, only gazing into the depths below them, starts seemingly calling out to her. “They’re beautiful,” she whispered, the gentle hum of the sky cushioning her voice. “Would you want to see them from up close?” Soles of her shoes clacked against the tiles, her skirt swirling as she turned to face him. “Could you do that?” One foot on the railing, Shingen pushed himself up. Without losing his balance, he leaned forward and offered her his hand, the words she wanted to hear leaving his lips. “I don’t know.” Yes, of course. She accepted the invitation, soft breeze nuzzling against her ankles as sudden warmth spread through her body, causing her to feel lighter. His fingers closed around hers, her eyes meeting his – and she followed his gaze, few shining steps appearing in front of her. Mesmerised, she climbed them, soon standing by Shingen’s side, holding onto his arm as not to fall.

Words were unreliable, all things he could have told her being too heinous as lies, the sweetest thought having to turn into poison if it were to leave his mouth. As such, he did not dare speak, instead guiding her with his eyes, her breathing hitching at every stolen glance. Carefully, Shingen took a step forward, the initial fall stopping as platform emerged below his feet. Shingen looked up, his lips parting, but he hesitated to talk. “Yes, please,” she whispered in reply, his hands finding themselves onto her waist as he lifted her. Perhaps it was just a habit, perhaps she forgot herself, her arms crossing behind his neck – and she could not avert her gaze, her body pressed to his, her tiptoes hoovering just above the ground. Her blood started to rush, familiar tenderness sneaking into the grey irises for a split second – yet it was over so very soon, black lashes falling to hide it away as Shingen set her down. With a gesture of a hand, he urged her to go forward, the next platform being only a step away. Silently, she did as instructed, entwining her fingers with his once more. Slowly, they descended to the very border of the night sky.

She saw the light – only a moment more, Shingen setting the last platform in place. The woman swallowed thickly, releasing a deep breath out of her lungs a second later, unwilling to let her fears hold her back.  His hand resting atop her arm, she looked from Shingen to the very sky below them, air being ocean-like in its structure, licking the edges of their step – only to evaporate in pleasant breezes, carrying up smells of fruit, flowers and summer days. Notified of their presence, a myriad of stars swam their way, crowding at the edges of their shelter, sparkly tails following them through the depths. The woman crouched town – and much to her surprise, the king knelt by her side, dipping his hands into the fabric of the sky. Seemingly playful, celestial bodies swarmed to them, as if begging to be invited into his palm, few that got inside buzzing against his skin excitedly. He trapped them inside with his other hand.

The king straightened his back, the droplets at his fingers bursting into the scent of sandal tree. “I… I wouldn’t dare to ask you to hold your hands out,” he let out. Blush spreading over her cheeks, she did as he asked – and he opened his fingers, the smallest universe she had ever seen falling into her grasp. She gasped, her eyes shining brightly. She looked up at him. “On any other day, I’d like to have it back… But since tomorrow is the last day of your stay here, I suppose I’d like for it to be the one thing to remind you of the fairy realm.” Her eyes crinkled. “Liar. I’d rather take something else,” she chuckled, leaning forward… He touched his finger to her lips, an odd sense of hurt dimming his eyes. “No,” he grunted, the markings on his forearms lighting up, his face growing paler. The sky crept onto the platform.  Shingen rose to his feet fast, pulling her up by her hand. “We could stay a little longer, on some other day. On any other day.” We must go. She did not understand the rest.

They ran up the platforms, each step being shakier than the previous one – until they reached the terrace, Shingen collapsing to his knees, his back pressing against the railing as he clutched onto his chest. She dropped next to him, pressing onto his shoulders to get a better look at his face, liquid copper flowing below the skin of his hands. “Shingen?” “I’m fine.” It hurts. “How bad?” “Not at all.” It can’t be described. “What should I do?” “Stay.” Leave me to myself. “I can’t. I will take you to your room, okay?” “No.” Yes.

Her shoulders supporting his weight, they hurried back inside, the corridors seemingly shortening themselves as to let them reach his quarters sooner. She pushed the door to his personal room open, helping him to sit on the bed. “Any medicine?” “Left drawer.” “Right!” she thought aloud, already rushing to open it and search through its contents. She almost froze, a solitary bottle of human medicine staring at her – yet she did not let herself waste any time, instantly turning around with it in her hand. She unscrewed the lid, pouring the liquid into it and soon pressing it against his lips. Shingen drunk hurriedly.

The king fell onto his back, copper shining withing the markings growing calmer to eventually completely subside and resume peaceful slumber. “Why do you have human medicine?” she asked. “Why, indeed…” Shingen panted, his face relaxing. “I want to know.” “I will tell you on the last day of your stay.” I won’t ever be able to tell you. The woman frowned, her feet carrying her towards the corridor. “Well then,” she huffed. “I will make you.” The door closed behind her back.

Her night wasn’t a peaceful one, no dreams daring to come her way as she tossed from side to side. Uncertain whether she felt more concern or anger, she got up, the clock having struck a quarter past midnight. She shook her head, letting the thought of rest go freely. Hoping to at least calm her mind, she got up, her feet carrying her to the very terrace they… What exactly had they done the prior night? Explored? Spoke? She laughed to herself – how truly odd was this world, submerged in deep navy yet also bright, sunken in light. She could not even classify it in any clear category, her mind failing her at understanding the nature and what happened to her alike. Wings fluttered behind her. She turned around.

Azla and Botchka landed, gazing at each other in solemn silence. Puzzled, she irked a quizzical brow at them. “Is something a matter?” she asked. “No.” Yes, Botchka replied. “We certainly did not want to talk.” “It’s only that we felt obliged to,” Azla gulped. The woman leaned against railing, her fingers growing white as she clutched on it. “Well, I’m all ears.” The fairies glanced at each other once more. “Do not listen to us at all.” Listen to all we say very carefully. “We can repeat ourselves.” We won’t repeat it. “The well opens precisely one day after the solstice,” Azla stated, turning their attention towards their partner. “The well opens precisely one day before the solstice.” The woman frowned, her eyes growing wider in fear. “It opens today.” “It hasn’t already.” It already has. She gritted her teeth, her heart beginning to beat faster. “Thanks, I think I must talk with somebody now,” she blurted out, breaking into a run.

She understood, fairies lie – yet she also knew Shingen was very well capable of suggesting where the deception began. Fearing he may send her away without giving her the chance to talk one last time, she knocked onto his door, opening it before he could react. Her heart sunk – he was there, lying in bed and basked in the light that somehow felt dark, his skin pale as his face twisted in pain, his hands grasping onto the sheets. She ran up to the drawer, her fingers curling around the familiar medicine bottle.

Empty.

Dream:

Content Warnings: none

Slowly, she sat down by his side, her fingers pushing damp from sweat hair out of his face. “You’re burning up,” she noted bitterly, her lips brushing against his forehead. “You have been unwell all this time. And you’ve never told anybody, have you?” “It’s only solstice,” he rasped. “Huh?” “It’s only solstice. It makes our worlds touch… And then… Humans were not meant to live in this realm –” A cough tore through his chest. “But you’re not a human,” she noted, letting her fingers stroke his cheek. She shook her head. “And all you say are lies. How am I to trust any of that?” “Not fully, not yet… The solstice… The solstice allows for truths to be said without a punishment.” Her lips pressed into a thin line, she nodded. She reached to hold his hand in hers. “I want to trust you,” she whispered. “So I will… And if this world is hurting you… Come. Come with me.” “I can’t.” “Why?” “If I’m not here… If something goes wrong… The well may close before you pass. I don’t know what will happen to you then.” To his surprise, she stayed calm, emotion draining away from her voice. “Then what should I do to get back?” “Stay still… And recite your spell, starting from the last verse…”

Silence fell thick between them, the woman eventually moving to stand up. “Thank you. Thank you for everything,” she uttered, seemingly accepting his wish. Slowly, she stepped into the centre of the room, her eyes fixated onto the last drop of medicine in the bottle. Her chest rose as she breathed in deeply, her eyes electrifying. “Mirror, mirror, hear my call, Show me days that are to come, Tell me tales I shouldn’t know, Mirror, mirror – ” Strong winds broke out, drowning out her words, her clothing beginning to twist as an overwhelming force began to swallow her. The king smiled – in his defeat that happened to be a lesser victory…

Shingen blinked fast, the pain in his chest lessening as his hands grew transparent. Her voice vibrated through his mind, sending chills down his spine. “ – save my love,” she spoke, the incantation being complete.

***

Buzzing in his head grew stronger, each breath filling his lungs with an unfamiliar substance – something he both craved and couldn’t identify. Shingen opened his eyes slowly, black sky, so unlike anything he had ever seen before, spreading above his head. He blinked fast, the events of the night reawakening themselves in his mind – he shot up, frantically looking from side to side until his gaze fell over her body. Fearing the worst, he rushed to her, his knees failing him.

Gently, he turned her onto her back, cradling her head as not to cause any harm – and he leaned down, hoping that she was still alive. Her breath tickling his cheek, he sunk back down, waves of relief flooding him on the inside. “The stars…” she mumbled, seemingly awoken from her slumber. “Yes, my angel? What about the stars?” “I could never tire of watching them,” she giggled weakly, tiredness sounding off in her voice. “And yet they can’t measure up to even a fraction of your beauty.” “Cruel, aren’t you?” Shingen propped himself on his elbow and gazed down at her, the faint gleam in his eyes proving her wrong. “It is the truth.” Her hand cupped his cheek, the fever she felt seemingly only a moment ago having disappeared completely. “Then… Would you mind giving me the one thing I wanted then?” she asked, although the answer was already known, they lips being mere inches apart. She gasped as they collided, her wish coming true– and she couldn’t have helped thinking it was dearer than the universe he had granted her then.

Nightmare:

Content Warnings: implied impending major character death.

Slowly, she sat down by his side. “You’re ill and you haven’t told anybody, have you?” she spoke in an empty voice, her hands clutching onto the empty bottle. “It will pass,” he rasped. It won’t, she understood. “If… If it’s terminal… Can I help you?” she uttered, looking away as not to let him see her despair. A shadow of surprise swept over his face – and then he realised, she did not know he could tell truth for once, during that one special day a year. “No.” Yes. “I wish I would never hear those words… Could you erase them with a song?” “A song?” she hummed. “Any song?” “From the human realm… I was always curious… What do you sing to get into my domain?”

She laughed bitterly, her head shaking as she swept her hair forward. “Mirror, mirror from below, Tell me tales I shouldn’t know, Show me days that are to come, Mirror, mirror, hear my call,” she started, her voice breaking a few times. A moment of pause. “It… It does go on like so,” she sobbed – and it shattered his heart, as he knew she was convinced it could be the end. “Mirror, mirror, hear my call, show me days that are to come, tell me tales I shouldn’t know, mirror mirror from below – ”

Silence consumed her voice. She grasped onto her throat, unaware of what she had done – and then she looked at him, her lips parting to say “no” as his turned into an apologetic smile. “I lied to you one last time,” the king admitted. The universe around her twisted, collapsed onto itself… She was gone.

Tag list: @datenoriko, @nad-zeta, @tsubaki3192, @missjudge-me, @ikemencrossedmyth, @nuttytani, @thesirenwashere, @milas-imaginarium, @kisara-16, @yukas-clover, @alerialumina , @cheese-ception , @iamryxx, @cottonfluffballofdoom, @ozziegrl71, @silhouette-of-a-dream If you want to be tagged under my future works, let me know (any way works)! ^^ Also, if you have some preferences (for example: you’d rather not be tagged under some series, etc.), please, tell me.  If you don’t want to be tagged anymore - please, do not feel bad about it, just say so :)