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xxfaithlynxx · 20 days ago

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Paralyzed and Healing

airing: Sylus x f!(Named)OC; Rafayel x f!(Named)OC; Xavier x f!(Named)OC; Zayne x f!(Named)OC

ENJOY the next installment of OBoE: Part 2! This chapter name was shockingly difficult to figure out, so I just took words and viola, bobs your uncle. If I figure out something later, I'll change it. For now, this works.

Songs: (Mostly) Paralyzed- NF

Word Count: 6489 Words. 😮 (I'm sorry, but I'm not lol)

NOT PROOFREAD!

Please DON'T steal or plagiarize my work. Much appreciated! As always. ҉ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ҉

Chapter 11:

The chrome of the pole felt sleek, warm beneath my palms as I slid my back down it, arms bent and gripping the pole loosely, slowly lowering myself to a crouch before it, spreading my knees as my heeled feet pressed together at the heels. I blinked as the strobe flickered across my face, momentarily blinded to the patrons with their feral eyes glued to me as I moved to the beat of the song.

I could see Belamy at a booth directly in front of me, his eyes boring into mine with virile intent. I watched as a long onyx tongue slid over his bottom lip, before the right side of his mouth lifted into a devastating smirk as his head followed my slithering movements as I stood and wrapped myself around the pole once again, lifting my left leg to wrap a knee around it while I bent at the waist to grasp the ankle that was still rooted to the ground.

“What do you think, Asmodeus… she is quite fetching, is she not?” Belamy’s voice rang through the pounding music, overheard by everyone within the vicinity. My kohl smeared eyes switched to the man seated beside Bel, a lean looking man with a gruff expression. No hair to speak of as he leaned forward, sharp protrusions bubbled his lips outward, mimicking that of sharp teeth bent at disturbing angles. His eyes were like looking into a black hole, the purest black, but nothing like the chasms that Belamy showed on occasion. His shoulders were wide, atop each stood another head, on the left stood a feral looking lion’s head, while on the right was a mangled looking goat. From my angle, looking down at them, I could see folded black membranous bat like wings arched off of his shoulder blades, and wrapped around his lean waist, was a menacing looking scaled tail, much like that of what one would see on a dragon, while his legs resembled that of, possibly, a kangaroo. He was an amalgamation of creatures, resulting in a grotesque form that of which I had to tear my eyes away as he simply stared at me.

“Come now, my brother. What could possibly be so appealing as a human female.” Asmodeus’ voice was chilling, sending ripples of despair aching through my body, causing my dance to falter as I tripped over my own feet. “You see? Useless beings, the lot of them.”

“Oh, Asmodeus. They are appealing… in their own way. This one, for me, in particular. I will agree with you on one point, their kind are indeed… useless.” His eyes met mine, narrowed and glinting with danger as he said the last word. The gathered beings that sat around the two elder demons laughed, chortled and an assortment of other noises I could only assume was laughter. “You may leave, pet. I have no more need of you tonight.” Bel waved a dismissive hand in the air, and I felt the weight of a shackle closing around my ankle as I begrudgingly walked off the stage.

“Come now, pet. Why are you reminiscing on moments passed when your precious reality is so close?” I opened my eyes to find myself not in the dressing room of whatever Hellish club that had been, but in the gilded cage. Sighing, I let my head fall forward, my chin colliding with my sternum. Thank God… just a dream. “Can you not see your freedom?” His voice, that soft angelic voice pulled me with the promise of actually being able to see the reality I craved. Breathing steadily through my nose, I eased my head back up, coming face to face with Bel from the other side of the dented gold bars. His smile, too big. His teeth, too many. His eyes seemed burrowed deeper into his skull. He looked ghoulish, and yet still like the visage of the form he’d chosen when he took me to Charon. Bulky, silky black hair that fell down his back, thick muscles cording down his arms and the part of his legs that were visible.

Slowly, he gestured above me with a crooked but beefy looking finger. Within my seated position, I angled my head against the bars behind my head, desperately trying to see what he was pointing at.

When the edge of my vision saw what he’d been pointing at, I felt a deluge of loss and fear weave through my nerves, nesting within my chest as I sucked in a breath. In what looked like a cloud, nestled above my imprisoned soul within this plane of white and silver I could see four men seated around a single bed. What looked like a shadow laying over the soft green blankets seemed familiar, but my mind couldn’t place where I’d seen the person before. “Who are they?” I asked, softly. Eyes glued to the shimmery looking image above.

“Beyond your reach. Much like you are beyond theirs.”

I felt a heat burn at the corners of my eyes and reached up to brush a finger beneath my eye. Bringing my hand back to look at the clear crystalline pearl of liquid sitting atop the edge of my finger. Why was I crying? Why does my heart hurt? I pressed my palm over my chest, fingers curling against my flesh as I felt that feeling of loss surge through me again. Why was I feeling like this? What was the reason? My head turned back to peak through the bars at the diminishing image above. Were they the reason? Why are they so familiar?

“Do you know who they are?”

It was a flicker of emotion, but I saw it. Belamy had been shocked by my question. He tilted his head, his long raven hair falling over one shoulder. “Well, well, well. That is for me to know, my dear, and you to…,” He paused and looked up, “and, well, for you to eventually either learn or forget.”

I eased over to his side of the cage, curling my fingers around the bars, “Please, do I know them?” I could feel an urgency growing inside the ache within my heart. A desperation that I didn’t understand, but somehow… felt necessary. I needed to know. “Please, Belamy… please.” It wasn’t the first time since I’d been with him that I’d had to beg for something, but this time, seemed more perilous than the other times. This seemed more life or death.

He had half turned before stopping, “I have to hand it to you, it does something to me when I hear you beg like that, but darling, this is something for you to figure out. If you do not, well… let us just say, you will be far more mine than you are now.” His eyes glittered as they circled over the cage. What did he mean by that? Would I lose the last remnants of my shield?

I watched as he turned his back to me, and I collapsed against the bars. Feeling every ounce of my strength evaporate from my limbs. What did he mean? Rolling on to my back, I looked up through the bars to the vast expanse of whatever space lay above me. How do you remember something when you don’t know what it is you forgot?

Does it truly matter?

I blinked as a wave of nausea hit my gut, making me roll on to my side, arms curling around my middle.

Do you matter?

I gaged as the nausea slid up my spine, into the back of my throat. That ugly cold feeling roiling at the back of my mouth.

Did you try to get back to them? No.

A shock of pain in my lower spine causing me to cry out, as my body curled further into the fetal position, legs pulling up as growing waves of pain moved through my body. Who are them?

If you do not remember, you do not deserve to know!

I grit my teeth together as the voice reverbed through the cage, vibrating the metal around me. I want to remember! I cried out in my mind, unable to move my jaw from the lock the pain had on it.

You lack what they need.

You lack what everyone needs.

You lack what you need.

I felt the whimper escape through my teeth as a feeling of dread began circling my thoughts. The men circling that bed, with the whisp of a human laying atop it. Had that been me? Did I really look like that? Those men looked torn, but about what?

They’re deciding whether to simply let you go and walk away or stay… and watch you waste away before their eyes.

A sudden wave of disbelief washed over me. “They’d never give up on me.” Where had that come from?

Are you sure? In truth, I wasn’t. The bravado that, that abrupt mouth vomit had brought with it died on my tongue. I wasn’t sure of anything anymore.

You have found yourself lacking.

The voice, as well as the pain began to ebb away, leaving me a crumpled mess of twitching limbs, gritted teeth and falling tears on the floor of my gilded cage. What was it that I lacked?

҉ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ҉

“Just open the door, pet. That is all you have to do.” My eyes strained to focus as his melodic voice continued to waft into my ears. He’d been begging for, who knows how long since the conversation in my head happened. Crouched beyond the bars of my golden cage. I hadn’t moved in that time. Eyes open, but unseeing. Limbs numb as the pressure of the cage’s base grounded me as best as it could. I feel paralyzed… shouldn’t I be feeling something? Anything? Why am I here? Why have I been kept here? Why can’t I go back… back where? I could feel the heat behind my eyes, but no tears came. Not anymore. I didn’t feel anything, not since the voice, my voice found me lacking. It’s always been my voice… nattering away at the edges of my mind. Was she the real me?

I heard a sigh from outside the cage, “Have you truly given up, poppet?” I’d never thought that voice, usually so toneless and without emotion- could sound forlorn. Anguished even.

I’m so cold…

When had I become this numb?

How far gone am I?

My tongue feels heavy…

My mind is cracking…

I’m so lost…

I’m so ashamed…

They, whoever they are, should just let me go…

Walk away from me…

Never look back…

Just like the rest…

I’ve been so scared to live…

I’m still scared… and yet…

I’m terrified to die.

The heat behind my eyes burned, as I finally allowed myself to close them, feeling the scorching moisture overflow from beneath my lashes. Had I truly given up? Was this what that was?

Where had I gone so wrong?

What did I do wrong?

Flashes of color erupted behind my lids. Small microbursts of shattered color that exploded within me as a strangled sob escaped my mouth, the first noise I’d made in what felt like so long.

Plumes of soft pinks and blues. Moving together like heavy clouds. Darkened around the edges of the plush with reds and golds, beginning to pulse together as another, louder, sob escaped me. My shoulders, elbows and back ached as I finally moved, bringing my hands up to cover my face as finally I felt the tears that had been locked away inside me begin to pour from between my lids, coating my lashes as the my soul felt something for the first time in what felt like forever.

Muted greens and hazels burst like fireworks before the thick cumulonimbus clouds I’d imagined these colors to have formed, the dancing trails of the greens coiling and curling behind my eyelids, small white flowers seemed to encompass the streams of color. Keeping my eyes closed, I found myself feeling the ache of that chill beginning to recede, replaced by an overwhelming warmth.

The space around the clouds began to shimmer with blues and whites, the lighter colors bursting into shooting stars. Twisting amongst the rest of the colors in a whirling pool of azure galaxies and small white flowers. Their movements drifting, sensations of this new warmth spreading through my body. The images of each color, flowers and shooting star swirling through my mind, beckoning for me. Was this what death was supposed to be like? If it was, I didn’t want it. With every whorl of those colors, it felt like my soul was being stretched and torn apart.

“What are you doing, little one?” I could just barely hear Belamy as he said those words. There was an edge to his voice, and I swore I heard the clinking of claws hitting metal. “How are you doing that?” He sounded like he was right above me now, so close and yet… he sounded so far away. “You shouldn’t be able to do this, my pet… tell me, now. How are you doing that!”

I felt the rumble of the cage as he slammed himself into the bars, making me wince as the pain ravaged through my mind. I wanted to say, ‘I don’t know,’ but my jaw was locked tight, trying to keep myself together, and keep from screaming. I knew if I even remotely unlocked my jaw now, the bloodcurdling sound of my soul would be able to be heard, be in this void or another.

Stay strong, don’t lose control. The words came to my mind unbidden. It sounded like something someone had said to me before, resonating within me, with their foreign yet all too familiar low baritone. But who? Stay focused, kitten. Wait, were those words being said to me right now? But how? We’re here now, my sweet girl.

Stay with us, little pearl! We aren’t letting you go, not now, not ever. That was a different voice, slightly higher pitched than the first. It reminded me suddenly of flowing water. Teal pools of clear water and the seabed. That’s it, my little guppy. You need to remember….

Deep breaths, my love. Keep thinking of those colors… I felt a whine creep up my throat and curled into myself some more as, yet another voice chimed through the agony that seemed to be wreaking havoc through my mind. I know it hurts, baby… You need to remember us. Remember… us? Who was us?

A cacophony of slams and growls from outside the cage momentarily drew my attention away from my pain before another throb of agony coursed through me, another wave of those mixed colors. What was happening! Make it stop! Please! Between the pain and Belamy’s furious growls, I could feel myself beginning to fall apart. I can’t do this!

We need you here, little starlight. We can’t live without you. Another voice? You need to face it, sweetheart…. The colors burst to life behind my eyes again, seeming to come closer. I could feel my fingers beginning to dig into the skin of my sides, realizing late that at one point, I’d moved to hug myself, my jaw getting sore from having held it tightly shut for so long.

I can’t do this! Please, don’t make me! A roar from outside the cage deafened the voices slightly as another bone rattling slam erupted against the gold bars. Releasing my fingers from my sides, I reach up to cover my ears. I… can’t.

A resounding Yes, you can! echoed within my mind, all of their voices layered as they yelled the same thing. You can, Era! Was that my name? Fight it! I could feel my head beginning to shake, I didn’t want to fight anymore… I felt like I’d been fighting for so long. I just wanted to rest….

A soft caress seemed to wash across my heart, Come back to us, and you can. I winced as it felt like that green wind carrying those white flowers brushed against my skin. Beckoning me, gripping my heart. My soul. Why does it hurt so much…. I questioned, feeling the cage tilt on its axis as Belamy kept up his rampage. I could hear him growling and roaring, but the words were indiscernible. My body was shaking from exertion, muscle tight and aching.

Don’t reject us, you darling girl… We love you. Don’t run away from that! An image of a face rippled into my mind. Silver-white hair, ruby red eyes. A straight nose. A wide mouth with plump lips. Angled and strong jaw. My heart fluttered, not painfully, but happily. Who was this to make my heart flutter like a bird’s wings in my aching chest?

We need you, just as much as you need us! Another face to another voice. Hair as blonde as spun silk glowed in my mind, eyes the deepest shade of ocean blue. A soft smile, showing straight white teeth and an outstretched hand. Please, don’t give up. That voice, why did it sound so crestfallen?

Slowly, between the bouts of constricting pain, I realized that all of the voices held a note of sadness to them. Why were they sad? They shouldn’t be sad. “Tell me how you are doing that, you little bitch!” I flinched as Belamy’s voice rose to levels I’d never heard before. I was so used to his voice being so soft, angelic even. Now, it sounded harsh, and grating. Hissing wet syllables through an over-abundance of clenched teeth.

Listen to us, sweetie. I felt what equalled a warm palm pressing against my cheek, and then the brush of lips across my forehead. We know it hurts… but we need you to try. The urgency in his voice as he said those two words sent a chill down my already spasming spine. I tried to focus on what they were, had been saying. They need me. Why? No one needed me, not now, not ever.

A disgruntled overlap of breathy groans sounded in my head, and a chorus of, Stop that sounded between my ears. The pain was beginning to become unbearable. My joints burned, feeling wet from the tension. I whimpered as another wave of nausea bludgeoned my stomach. What will it take for you to believe us? Another face. Deep purple waves of hair falling over his forehead, reminding me momentarily of a sea anemone. Striking multicolored eyes in sunset shades of pinks and blues.

I felt my jaw tick as I felt the pain bellow within my chest, sending yet another debilitating ache through each sinew of muscle and tendon. Prove it. Was all my mind could produce in that moment, feeling like I was coming apart at the seams, shattering on a ledge of despair and mournful laments of moments passed. As the silence in my mind spread, I felt the emptiness swell, and the pain exploded to an entirely new degree. Suddenly, another inferno enveloped me, like fingers wrapping around my heart. My mouth fell open on that wail of pain, followed by strained whimpers as I felt their warmth begin to consume me. It felt like I’d stepped not only too close to a fire, but into one. We will drag you back if we have to, darling.

Emerald and gold glinted at me through the inferno. Shocks of raven hair, falling across one blood shot eye. The strain in his voice was clear. No matter how much you think you don’t belong… you do. You’re so wrong, you do! I could feel a familiarity growing beside the aching heat within my breast. I did know them, didn’t I?

Forcing myself to see beyond the pain, beyond the bellowing demon outside my cage. I found myself standing in a shallow pool of mirror like silver water. A perfect inverted replica of myself stood looking up at me from beneath my feet. Lifting my weary gaze from the water’s surface, I canted my head from side to side, looking around. Why here? A shimmer caught my attention from the corner of my left eye, and I spun, rippling the surface of the water as I did. A dazzling mound of black dirt appeared from the thick white fog that surrounded me, atop that dirt stood a massive weeping willow. Its bows stretched so high, I had to tip my head back to see the tops, just barely visible through the mist. It’s massive open crown, curved bows of wispy ground-sweeping, with dozens of long, slender leaves brushing the surface of the water, an invisible breeze shifting the tendrils aside just enough to barely see the thick dark and twisted trunk beyond. Why here?

I felt a lump form in my throat as several images echoed in the expanse of this void, or abyss. Four men, all with smiles on their faces, talking with me, laughing with me. Flickers of more intimate moments with each of them in turn. Bodies entwined in a puzzle of limbs and breaths. Sweat soaked skin and soft sounds of pleasure. It was difficult to look away, but the images soon changed. Dissolving into other things. Were these memories?

I’d felt like lead bricks had replaced my feet, but as the images began shifting and flowing freely, the weight of my feet began to lighten. Flashes of myself as a young child, sitting on a bench next to a playground, as he knelt in front of me. Tears streaming down my face as he placed a band-aid across my knee before he got up and sat beside me on the bench. I know him…. My gaze shifted to another portrayal, another slightly older version of myself, the same boy, just older as well. A little on the lanky side but already showing signs of growing into a stunning young man. As I approached, I tilted my head to the side, getting a good look at his eyes before the image faded. Green as emeralds, mixed with pale gold. That’s the same….

I turned as another movement formed, another version of myself, more how I was now. Sitting on an open beach, legs pulled against my chest as my eyes held one of those fifty-yard stares with the ocean. A tall figure slowly approaches from the right, kneeling down beside me. His shock of wavy purple hair dangling across his forehead as he spoke gently to me. When the image shifted and showed us walking side by side, his hands in his pockets while my own were wrapped around my middle, I caught sight of his eyes. Sea blue and anemone pink, weaving together like the waves of the ocean. What? Another wave familiarity sunk through me, before the image faded just as the last had. I swung around, but there were none.

Turning back to face the looming strands of the willow bows, reaching far across the surface of the mirror like water, I reached out and began to push aside the wispy leaves and their green, almost vine like stems. As I slowly approached the base of the tree, more memories, images of my life flashed, I couldn’t help but notice that all of them were good memories. There was nothing bad here, or at least that’s what it seemed like.

Off to the right, a soft memory of moving into a tall six level building, after the welcome ceremony from the Association appeared from around the willow leaves. The weight of the box nearly buckling my knees as I tried to lift it alone into my new home, only to come face to face with the bluest eyes I’d ever seen, far bluer than my own, a soft smile and that woven silk like blonde hair. He’d grabbed the box from my arms and offered to help me get it the rest of the way.

I found myself smiling, the thoughts of these men. Their indescribable personalities. I do know them…. Another solid memory suddenly flashed directly in front me, bringing me pause as I watched myself walking across an intersection, thoughts of coffee and sweet confectionaries distracting my mind from who was walking out of the door to the café. A tall, mountain of a man with silver white hair, striking ruby colored eyes, and a panty dropping smirk that could level an entire city block’s worth of female residents, and quite possibly men as well. I do know them.

As the image of the silver haired man and myself faded on us talking outside that café, what stood before me took my breath away. Along the brambled roots of the willow, arching out from the surface of the mocha-colored dirt, stood four men.

I swallowed around a dry mouth and a lump that had abruptly formed in my throat. They’re here? How?

I rushed toward them, not really understanding why, but the solidarity of the immense trust I felt went beyond the feeling of the potential unknown. I kept repeating the mantra in my head.

I knew them! I knew them! I know them!

Seeing their faces as I reached out to them, brought a deluge of memories and feelings crashing into my mind, my heart, my soul. The smile faltered on my face as I realized, I had everything now. The feelings, the memories, the thoughts of them.

Everything, except their names.

Without a doubt, I knew them. I reached out to the raven-haired man with vibrant emeralds for eyes, cupping his cheek and feeling him lean into my palm. My best friend… I know you, I’ve known you for so long. Moving my tear-filled eyes, I looked to the next, the one with purple hair, I pressed a hand to the spot above his heart, feeling the heat that radiated there. I smiled at him, and he returned it, covering my hand with his. My lemurian… my mate. Then came the silken haired blonde with galaxies in his eyes. His cheeks pink as a tear descended his cheek. I extended a hand, and he took it, our fingers twining together. My light in the darkness… my star. And finally, came the man I’d seen in that last memory, the one who I’d bumped into at that café. His devastatingly beautiful crimson eyes bore into me like a sword to the chest, the invisible breeze casting the white hair further across his forehead. And you… my other half, my beloved monster.

I have everything… except your names! Why can’t I remember the most important parts!

Their smiles began to droop as I felt a ripple effect within my chest, a slow spread of sharp tingles and needle like pricks over my skin. Whispers of words I’d heard and believed for so long, words causing me to drift my gaze down to the mirror of water at my feet.

The voice, a mixture of a putrid form of my own, and the serene angelic version of Belamy’s tore through my senses. “Do you really believe they will take you back? You, the broken, the pathetic, needy, degenerate that you are? The fat little girl who was desperate for food, for shelter? For love? How could anyone love you.” I shivered as my eyes caught sight of my image in the water. Slouched shoulders, blotchy and scarred skin, oily shoulder length light ash colored hair, frumpy swollen looking fingers tipped with bitten and torn fingernails and cuticles, chubby arms, an overly swollen looking belly that hung low over my hips, bowed and chunky legs with cankles and callouses. A broken sound escaped my throat at the sight.

I could feel their eyes on me, watching me curiously. Do they see me like this? Was this how I really looked? I tried to recall how each of them made me feel, but only the image below stared back. I felt another shiver run through me, this one of revulsion. Was this how everyone saw me?

The four men standing before me all at once had their brows pulling together. Could they hear me thinking about how disgusting I felt? Could they see the vulgar, grotesque being I was? See the very image of how years of neglect and self hate had made me out to be? Why would they want me, when…. an image of Melina, the other Hunter, her gorgeous long pink hair, her soft copper-colored eyes, her perfect skin. Why want this… when they could have her? She was the epitome of perfection… wasn’t she?

A soft, deep voice began to speak from above me. When I looked up, I was met with the color of rubies. “Perfection is relative, kitten. What you are… was never meant to be perfect. You are you, and to us, “he gestured with one of his enormous hands, “that is perfection.” He reached up to glide his knuckles over my cheek, “You, and of all your little quirks, flaws, and your overwhelmingly abundant powers, your very thoughts will be all we ever need. All we will ever want!” He smiled at me, rotating his hand to cup my cheek as I felt the heat of tears sting my eyes, “We never wanted you for how you looked, that kind of perfection doesn’t exist… what we wanted, what we want… is you,” He tipped his head, his hair falling further over his right eye, his carmine eyes glittered dangerously as he inched toward me, “You, not your looks, but you- this soul- has been refined over and over, the impurities of your former lives have been carved and shined.” I could feel his breath against the corner of my mouth as he continued, “It was never about the perfect jewel, we wanted- want what’s inside.” He brushed his lips against the corner of my own, “We all fell for what beats within your chest, Era. Your heart is my precious ruby,” He pulled back, turning me slowly so my back pressed flush against his chest as he wrapped me in his arms. With one arm he gestured to the others one by one. “You are the pearl, the flower, and the star that calls for each one of us.”

They’d all converged around me, their eyes locked on my own, soft expressions of adoration and affection flooded each of their eyes. Each description of what I was to each of them had my head beginning to pound, for their sakes and my own… I needed to remember their names, and I knew they couldn’t simply give them to me. I could feel Belamy trying to vie for my attention on the other side of whatever this void was, whatever place I’d created to escape the pain and the malice. The pounding at the edge of my mind beginning to grate on my already frayed nerves. My raven-haired man stepped forward, and knelt down, dropping himself just below my eyelevel.

“You stole my heart long ago, Era.” His perfect brows angled in a worried line as he gave me a small smile, “You shouldn’t have to feel the burden of what others say, to or about you.” He glanced around at the others, “You can lean on us, all of us. Whenever you need. There is no shame in letting us in.”

Era… that was my name. I felt my heart thump hard against my ribs. His words resonated within me, but how can I do that, when I’ve basically let my demons win? Because this is what it was… sure he had a name, he and I had a past… but I’d let him in, I’d let him win. How does someone like me win against not only an inner demon, but a real demon? I felt a hand cup my cheek, and my blurred vision focused again on the raven-haired one, “You can start by not giving up. Your powers supersede ours; they supersede his, my darling. You are more capable and stronger than you think. You can win.”

Right, my powers. How do I manifest my powers without a physical form? We were in my mind, weren’t we? I felt a sense of panic rise within my stomach, and felt like my lungs were suddenly beginning to be squeezed. The purple haired one stepped towards me now, his head tilted slightly as he smiled at me, “Do you remember what I told you on that beach that night?”

I thought about that for a second, the tightness in my chest easing, did I?

He sighed affectionately, “I told you that for every hardship you face, for every plight and every negative mouth breather you meet, there will always be someone there to counter that balance.” He reached out and cupped my other cheek, the opposite that the doctor… doctor… still held his hand against. “You need to face what you haven’t been able to. You need to even the balance and believe that you can win. We are all just small fish in a big pond, trying to survive… at least, that’s what I think anyway.” The lemurian artist… lemurian… his words resonated within me as well.

I felt the man behind me take a deep breath, his chest pressing firmly against my back as his arms tightened around my middle. “—is right,” Had he said a name then? It sounded like it was underwater, garbled, and indiscernible. “There will always be a bigger fish… but that doesn’t mean being small can’t be important.” Bigger fish…? He’s a dragon… dragon…, he hoards things he considers treasures and practices an almost innate control, over himself and others.

Movement from my left caught my attention as the silky blonde stepped forward, taking my left hand between both of his. His long slender fingers wrapping easily around mine. Encasing my hand and wrist between his. “You, so easily see your own flaws, Era, but are quick to stand up for anyone else’s, you’ve wrapped yourself in a shell of self loathing even though there isn’t anything to loathe.” His gorgeous blue eyes blinked, and I felt myself become enraptured in them. They glittered like there were a thousand tiny stars held inside them. A curious expression passed over his face as he looked down at our entwined hands, slowly I followed his gaze and couldn’t help but think that he would be amazing at playing piano with hands like his. Haven’t I heard him play? He was my neighbor… neighbor.

They were right, of course, they were all right.

Thinking back on my life, how left behind and lost I’d felt, how I watched from the sidelines as the people around me continued with their lives. I’d thought I hit rock bottom when my parents separated, or when I was homeless, or when I had to decide how to see the next morning.

I’d thought there was nothing left, so I’d wandered until I found the sea, imagining a life where I wasn’t around, only to meet the lemurian, my gaze moved to the indigo haired man, he’d convinced me to move forward, offered me a job. But he’d also given me a sense of purpose, so when I made something more of myself when I made it into the association. When I’d met him, my eyes flickered up to the blonde again, when he chose to be my partner, under his own power and not having been forced or coerced, I’d felt something akin to belonging.

In all that time, between my parents, the streets, the training and courses to become a Hunter- I’d tried to ignore what others said, about me, about my life- but it was hard, subconsciously I knew it would affect me, but I’d fought to keep moving forward. I’d done all of that on my own. In some ways, I knew I would always be affected by it, and thinking about it now… would I be who I am, would I be who I’d become without all of it? The answer echoed around me in a unanimous no. We can’t change what’s happened in the past, but we can choose what we do, what and who we will be now and in the future.

My life had led me here. As my eyes moved between each of these men, I realized how each of them had affected me, how each of them had changed my mindsets since meeting them, since falling in love with them, and feeling their love in return. I had changed, because that’s what always happened, no matter what. Whether it felt good or not, change was inevitable. Change opens doorways and paths to new and extraordinary things, some can be uncomfortable, others exhilarating—but all are necessary, no matter how one chose to walk, each branch still connected, some how, some way.

The thrum of pain at the edges of my mind had subsided, and I could feel a growing sense of something else, something that had given pause to the rampage of the demon in that other plane. I felt each hand that these men had on me tighten, and they each smiled at me. Even if their names didn’t return to me, I would keep those expressions close to me, the lives they shared with me close to my heart, wrapped around my soul.

I could win, I just needed to believe I could. Like I did when I entered the Association, like I did when I fought my first Wanderer. Like I did when I fell for the four wonderful men that I’d met along the way, the ones who’d brought me out of my shell, out of my scared reveries of the past.

“We are here for you. No matter what.” It had sounded like all of them spoke at once, an amalgamation of all of their voices, pinging around the drooping vine like bows of the willow.

Closing my eyes, I focused on their words, on their belief. When I opened my eyes again, I could still feel them, but I was back in my cage. Still laying on the floor, curled into a ball. But the pain was gone, and so was the bellows and anger from outside the bars. I could still sense him, but what I felt wasn’t anger. It was fear, and desperation.

҉ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ̶ ҉

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moss-bride · 8 months ago

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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.

#x reader #ao3 fanfic #fanfic #scp fandom #scp 035 #scp foundation #alagadda

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undead-merman · 1 year ago

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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.

#obey me #obey me simeon #yandere simeon #tw: dubcon #siren simeon #yandere

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honourablejester · 1 year ago

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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.

#numenera #ttrpgs #worldbuilding #setting notes #fun with landscapes #ice and salt and blood #i like it down here

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greatkittydream · 11 months ago

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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**

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.

#the creature from the dungeon #humans are deathworlders #hfy

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kbgw1234 · 2 years ago

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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

#narcissist cookbook #bug hunter

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caniwkaeup · 5 months ago

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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.

#existential #creative writing #writing prompt

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lingering-42-long · 2 years ago

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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.

#könig x reader #könig #x reader #cod x you #cod x reader #fluff

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attic-club-sandwich · 2 years ago

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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

#obey me #obey me writing #obey me fanfiction #obey me fics #obey me! one master to rule them all #obey me shall we date #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me beelzebub #obey me belphegor #my posts #cass writes #to ascend again

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snakeboistan · 4 years ago

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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.

#assassination classroom #My writing

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bigsharkdaddy · 4 years ago

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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.

#headcanon.#usfw

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professormembranexreader · 4 years ago

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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.

#writing #membrane #professor membrane #professor membrane x reader

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spiritualsymbiosis · 4 years ago

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@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?

#character ;; LILITHMON #↳ [ bowen chuuno ] ;; inter-galactic time traveler

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writing-the-end · 4 years ago

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LoL Chapter 54- Dream’s End

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU, designs, ideas belongs to @theguardiansofredland)

A battle beyond the physical realm leaves an ally wounded, and the hermits fight over whether they should bother saving them at all- revealing a dark history of a fellow member.

Warning: Battle scene, some gore (not heavily descriptive)

_________________________________________

But rather than the hermits going down, Dolios crashes into the floor. Knocking him right out of this world.

And into the dream world. Standing behind Dolios, slowly sliding to his knees, Apatia is falling into the dream realm as well. His shoulders are slumped, eyes heavy lidded. Nothing looks different about the guildmaster, except for the fiery determination hiding behind sleepy eyes. “I’ll hold him off. He’s too angered to just put to sleep. I have to hold him back. Get out. Now.”

Ren steps forward, reaching out to help Apatia up. But the kipling shoos him away. “What about you, my dude?”

“I think it’s time Dolios sees what his own councilmember can really do.” Apatia offers a weak, tired smile. “If anyone has to go down, at least its just the lazy bum.”

Apatia falls into his sleep, collapsed with a light snore in the ruins of Dolios’s corrupted crystals. Dolios writhes in his sleep, attempting to force himself from the slumber Apatia has placed him in. But the kipling’s magic is strong. And now, Dolios is in Apatia’s realm.

“We have to get going.” Tango breathes, nudging Mumbo to his feet. Mumbo struggles to carry Grian’s weight, and reluctantly he lets Beef take the still weak, hardly living hermit in his arms.

“We’re really going to leave him here?” Stress waves to the two councilmembers on the floor. They don’t even know what’s happening, deep in the realm of sleep. “He saved us.”

“But he told us to leave.” Doc adds, forcing Beef to start walking.

TFC pauses. “Hypno, you deal in dream magic, right?” Hypno nods. “Can you scry us into what’s going on? I agree, we should put distance between us and Dolios. But I don’t think we should abandon Apatia. Yet.”

All the hermits grumble, but it’s a compromise they can live with. Beef takes the lead, carefully carrying Grian up the stairs and into the main dungeons. The hermits pile into a cell, huddled close and eyes glued to Grian. Ren uses his magic to make the cell appear empty, and that even sound won’t be heard through the illusionary barrier.

Light casts across the hermits as Hypno casts his circle, and the hypnotic pattern of his arcana swirls, spinning and growing until it becomes pure white. Like flying through clouds, Hypno guides his scry into the dreams of the two below. And from the white mist, a battle appears.

Dolios has completely lost all sense of calm and charisma. His hair is wild and untamed, as is his eyes, as the black mist and smoke of dark magic curls and ripples along his arms, dancing along the red sleeves and gold trim. His grin and sharp glare is met by a cold, hard stare from Apatia across the way.

He doesn’t smile, but his brows are furrowed with determination. A wayward lock, straying from his long, straight hair, falls to the bridge of his nose. Despite the blue hair, nothing breaks Apatia’s attention towards Dolios. He throws his cape aside, and from the fog and cloud of the dream realm, a halberd appears. Apatia reaches his hand out, and grips the weapon.

“Apatia, I should have known.” Dolios’s voice echoes in the dream realm, but stops at the barrier between vision and reality. “Though I expected you to be too lazy to bother getting in my way.”

“Got tired of your bullshit.” Apatia growls. “You’re in my realm now, Dolios. Anything that happens here will affect your corporeal body.”

“Good. Because I can’t wait to rip you apart. You may have the upper hand, but you know my power. And since you’ve let my targets run free, you’ll have to take their place.” Without warning, Dolios attacks. A barrage of corrupted magic, from flame to festering, fire and swarms of bugs barraging Apatia. But the guildmaster hardly seems concerned. He disappears into the mist, where even the blaze can’t burn it away, and reappears behind Dolios.

He swings his halberd, all his weight and force behind the iron weapon. Dolios blocks the attack, stumbling backwards. The dark magic fights with the mist of the dream realm, white fog and black ash dueling for control. Dolios raises a hand, pressing it on his cheek. When his finger comes away, a trail of red mars his fingers.

His own blood should have warned him to be more cautious, to face his opponent carefully. But the red ochre, mixing with the darkness that trails along his hands like snakes, only fuels Dolios’s mania. The bloody cheek creases and crests, eyes forced to squint at the diabolical grin on the magistrate’s face.

And when he attacks, it’s without remorse or restraint. All signs of the graceful, charismatic leader of Lairyon are gone. In the dream realm, Dolios’s reality is bared for all to see. Eyes wild and crazed, bloodthirsty and hungry to kill. Hungry for power. His pearly whiteteeth, white as bone, gleam and glisten like a beast’s, sharp as the cold smile he wears.

Apatia was prepared to fight Dolios, the cold, calm, calculating magistrate. But this isn’t Magistrate Dolios. This is the dark mage, hardly even human. Not even a monster. Just pure chaos. His movements are erratic, unpredictable. His magic even more so. There is no plan, no play. Only to kill, and eviscerate all memory of Apatia from the face of the earth.

The hermits can only watch in fear as Apatia takes on the onslaught. Burned, bashed, thrown aside. But despite all the pain, he still stands up and continues to fight. Dolios’s dark magic glings to this purple and azure cape, to his pale skin and navy hair, attempting to drain the kipling of his magic, to claim him as a husk. If anything, it was the dark magic that controlled Dolios, not vice versa.

Like tentacles of darkness, dark magic whips across the realm of magic. Apatia slices them apart, dispersing the ashen mist among the dream realm. He uses his environment to his advantage. Disappearing in and out, only to appear and land a blow on Dolios before retreating. Sometimes he gets away unharmed, other times he’s not so lucky.

Apatia contorts the dream realm to his will, but his upper hand is starting to lose strength. Dolios is learning the laws of the dream realm. And turning them against it’s very creator. Apatia turns the mist heavy, a fog so dense even the hermits struggle to see the battle within. In turn, Dolios burns the fog away with blinding light, harsh and static. For an instant, Iskall swears he can see gilded wings appear against Dolios’s back, but the light forces them all to turn their gaze away or risk burning their eyes.

In the midst of the blazing light, a crack echoes through the endless fog of the dream realm. When the hermits are able to see again, only one combatant remains standing.

Dolios stalks towards his quarry, leaving behind a wake of darkness as the magic grows, nearly encompassing all of him. It’s impossible to see the color of his robes, but unmistakable is the unhinged expression on his face. At his feet, Apatia struggles to rise, one arm wrapped around his waist. Blood stains the cloudy dream realm, turning the endless cloud a dark red. “You were always the weakest link. I should’ve done this from the beginning.”

Apatia reaches out in one last desperate attempt to grasp his halberd, but bloodstained fingers slip from the wood as Dolios plucks the weapon from the ground. “But you didn’t.”

“You’re right, I didn’t. But now, you’ll be a perfect example to the others why you don’t cross me. No one, not even the Council, is immune to my wrath.” A dark, dangerous glint appears in Dolios’s eyes, a glimmer matched only by the bloodstained metal of the poled weapon. “I believe I recall you saying that anything that happens here affects our corporeal bodies, correct?”

Without waiting for an answer, Dolios swings the blade. Some hermits avert their eyes, unable to watch, while others force themselves to witness yet another act of the magistrate’s own cruelty.

And cruel it was. He did not land a killing blow. No, Dolios would not give Apatia the satisfaction of a quick death. Rather, the halberd cut right through the thick membrane of Apatia’s dorsal. A clean, painful cleave. Dolios is unbothered by the blood splattered across his face, his clothes, his hands. The dark wizard steps over the writhing form of a man he once called ally. “My dream has become your nightmare, Apatia. Now it’s time to wake up, and face the consequences of your actions.”

The scrying screen disappears, so abrupt that the hermits are left in waning silence. Trying to remember who they were, where they were. The only one who was not totally enraptured in the fight before them was Grian, though that was mostly because he was still fighting for his life.

“Dolios just-” Cleo starts to talk, before Joe reaches over and claps his hands over her mouth. She looks about ready to bite his fingers off, but the sound of robes shuffling and boots stomping keeps her, or any hermit, from even breathing.

No one dares to move as the offputting laughter that bubbles from Dolios’s lips crosses the cell they hid within. He’s mumbling to himself, laughing in a way that begins as a nervous chuckle before growing into a booming cackle. The ramblings of a madman continue, though fading, until the sound of a door slams closed way in the distance. Even then, the hermits wait a few beats longer.

TFC emerges first, and doesn’t hesitate to turn back towards the spiral staircase. Following immediately behind him, Wels sheathes both his sword and shield, even removing his gauntlets. Some follow along, confused but guided by their guildmaster, others remain behind, just wishing to leave as fast as possible.

So when Wels returns with the others, and in his arms was the bloodied body of Apatia. A trail of red follows every step the paladin takes, and the metal of his armor is caked in gore.

Most hermits follow TFC and Wels without pause. They just want to leave. But Tango gives pause, as does Doc. “We’re only slowing ourselves down, why the hell are we taking him along? He’s probably halfway dead already, and-”

Their guildmaster turns around, and even Doc flinches when he is met with a stone cold stare. “We can argue when we’re back on Eremita. But he’s coming along.”

Without another question, the hermits comply. TFC has never been one to pull rank. He never rules absolutely, much preferring the input of his fellow hermits before making a decision, or even positing it for them to vote. But now? Now there was no questions, no if, ands, or buts. Cub opens a portal, allowing Beef to carry Grian through first, followed by Wels with Apatia.

Eremita is quiet again, but in a different way from when Apatia first arrived. It’s a tense silence as the two victims of Dolios’s magic are carried into the infirmary. Apatia, now ex-councilmember and enemy to the hermits, and Grian, the hermits' own healer.

Wels pulls out the meager infirmary supplies they had left. Between being Lairyon’s most wanted, and their own dependence on Grian’s angelic healing magic, they are poorly stocked. The paladin unrolls the wrappings, biting his lip and shaking his head. It’s not enough.

“Ren, do you think you can wake Grian and mimic his magic?” Wels presses against the bloody wound on Apatia, trying to staunch the blood. He’s used to battle wounds, but this even makes his stomach sick. This wasn’t a wound from a fight. This was Dolios taking a trophy.

Without hesitation, Ren turns around and places his hand on Grian. The angel is silent and still, but his chest rises and falls, if shallow. Color continues to grow across his body, saturating his skin and clothes with each breath of life.

Another hand appears, grabbing Ren’s and holding it down. Raising his gaze, he’s met by fiery red eyes. Tango’s hair burns bright and hot, causing beads of sweat to form at the hairline of Ren’s forehead. “And why should he? Apatia did this to himself for ever siding with Dolios. He’s getting what he deserved.”

Ren shrinks back, but Tango keeps his hand firm over his. TFC winces, but presses his shoulders back and meets the red eyes. “He’s the reason we have Grian in the first place. He’s the reason we were able to escape with almost no injuries.”

“But how does that compare to the thousands of lives he let Dolios take while he sat on his ass and napped in his office? What about my guild that he let Dolios destroy, and for years lead everyone to believe it was bandits? What about all of Gildara, every last soul in that town? What about Iris and Mica, all of the Asklepions? One right doesn’t negate all his previous-”

“Because it’s what’s right!” Wels’s voice rises above Tango’s filling the entire infirmary. Metal armor clatters as Wels sands, eyes staring- one clouded- down Tango. There’s a certain glimmer in Wels’s gaze, one Tango has never seen before.

“Don’t you have any empathy, Tango?” TFC adds, his voice sharp and grating. It makes Tango let go of Ren’s hand, allowing the werewolf hybrid to begin healing Apatia. Tango has never, ever heard TFC raise his voice- even when he was corrupted by Dolios’s own crystal, he didn’t shout. “This man is trying to change, trying to fix his mistakes, but you won’t even let him live to do so.”

“How do we know he’ll even do that?” Doc growls, finally raising his voice and appearing from the shadows. “When has a monster like him ever decided to do things right, and stick to it?”

“I did.” Silence follows, and all gazes are turned to Wels. “I changed. Became a better man. Or am I still the monster you know as Helsknight?”

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