#black crystal bride

[blackcrystalbride]

The Black Crystal Bride [64-65]

First time drawing the king. 3rd panel was fun to draw for sure

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Read The Black Crystal Bride on ComicFury! Also available on Webtoons!

[toyastales]

Giorgio Armani Prive

[thegivenchythree]

Rodarte f/w 2023

[letterstokareokay]

I’ve never felt more alone.

[beomcoups]

here's to forever (the athlete)

summary: today is the day you finally marry your best friend

genre: fluff, suggestive, 18+ warnings: mentions of sex (hoshi wants to pump some babies into you), mentions of pregnancy words: 0.9k AN: Thank you, @horanghater, for looking over this for me. Every year on the anniversary of the OG fic, I always end up writing another part about their lives since they met. I'm becoming a real yearner. Anyhoo, I decided to go ahead and make a series master list because I am sure more will come, lol. -series masterlist

“I love you.” You rub Soonyoung’s hand with your thumb as he holds back tears, standing before the officiant, his football coach. You just married the love of your life and best friend in front of your family and friends on a large farm in the country. You exchanged heartfelt vows in front of one hundred people on the estate, with the birds singing in the sky and the geese swimming happily in the lake. So far, this day has been nothing short of magical, with those six little words sealing the deal. “You may now kiss the bride.”

Soonyoung pulls the veil over your face and kisses you with a fervent need that sets your nerves on fire. Everyone and everything disappears for a second, but it doesn’t matter; you got your dream guy. Your fingers intertwine with his as you finally break apart, met by the thunderous applause of your guests who watched you become one with your now husband, their approval and joy palpable in the atmosphere. Soonyoung waves your hands triumphantly in the air as you walk down the aisle, flashing your wedding rings with pride for everyone to see. You haven’t seen him this proud since he won his first Super Bowl. Two and a half years later, with two more championship rings added to his collection, his eyes have never shined brighter. Soonyoung leads you away from your guests, taking you down a short path to the lake's edge. When you looked at venues, you found this place while looking through Pinterest, falling in love with the green pastures of the farm and the shining crystal-like waters. Soonyoung didn’t care where you married as long as you were his wife by the end of it. But when you took a trip out here and looked at the place in person, you both knew this was where it was meant to be. With the sun shining through the ivory clouds, it was almost as if your dads were looking down and giving their blessing.  

“We did it, babe,” you revel at the scene. “It’s you and me officially.” 

“Darlin’, you and I were official from the day we met. You just didn’t know it yet.” 

You chuckle and lean into him because, honestly, he is right. You were interested in him the first time you met; you were in denial then. You always swore you wouldn’t be one of those journalists who mixes business with pleasure, yet here you are, marrying the said pleasure. Life works out funny that way. 

“You look so pretty, baby,” he murmurs as he pulls you close. “I can’t wait to get out of here and pump some babies into you.”

“Same here, baby,” you kiss his lips. “We might be a little late on the baby part, though.”

Soonyoung looks at you curiously as you reach into the secret pocket of your wedding dress. You had it sown in secret when it was tailored initially to keep your lipstick in if you needed to freshen up or had anything else in mind. But a couple of weeks ago, when you went for your routine check-up, you found out you were ten weeks pregnant. You and Soonyoung talked about kids, and you both want them; this will be earlier than you both planned. It explained why you felt lethargic lately and the smell of anything nauseated you. You weren’t sure how to tell him, so you carried it around just in case the opportunity arose. Now is the time. 

Holding up the ultrasound, you hand him the black-and-white photo of the baby growing inside of you. He studies the picture, then looks at you and your stomach, the dots connecting in his brain. You nod, confirming what he is thinking: you will be having his first child. 

“Aww baby,” he whispers. “You’re pregnant.” 

“Mmhmm,” you nod as you wipe his tears away. 

He kisses you again, this time sweeter, more tenderer, and full of emotion that he can’t convey in words. You naturally melt into him, feeling safe and secure that the future you two have will be bright. Soonyoung has always said he loved you more than anything, but that’s not true. You love him more. He made you believe in love again, protected you when you needed it, and showed up when you needed him the most. You never felt scared to share your thoughts with him, and even if he didn’t understand, he listened and tried anyway. He never tried to take your spotlight. He respected you and made sure others did, too. Soonyoung brings an array of colors to your mundane world that you hope never goes away. God, you love him so much that it hurts.  

“Well, it makes sense why you weren’t drinking the champagne last night,” he muses. “You love champagne.”

“Y-yeah,” you sniffle. 

A comfortable silence falls between you two, taking in the moment as you watch two geese embrace one another. If someone had told you over three years ago that you would be marrying thee Kwon Soonyoung and having his child, you would have laughed in their face. But clearly, the universe has a sense of humor. 

“I want to keep this between us,” you say suddenly. “It’s our first child, and I want to hold on to this a little bit longer before family, friends, and the media get a hold of it. You already know how it goes.”

“Of course, baby,” he readily agrees. “Whatever you want.”

He kisses your forehead, leading you back to the photographers so you can start taking pictures. Your makeup artist brushes up your makeup, and unbeknownst to you, Soonyoung gazes at you from afar, watching you with so much pride and love in his heart. The sun shines brighter as if it’s reflecting the future you will have with each other. 

Here is to forever.

[thyme-in-a-bubble]

a list of some autumnal movies/series 🍂

i am nothing if not an organised little goblin who can not stop themself from making a good list. this is just in case you want something with that fall vibe but can't think of any. just close your eyes and point somewhere on this little list, or even put the numbers in a generator and go with whatever the result is ♡

winter | spring | summer

🥧 ‧₊˚ ⋅ movies ⋅˚₊‧

nosferatu (1922) 

sabrina (1954)

the creature from the black lagoon (1954)

psycho (1960)

rosemary’s baby (1968)

the rocky horror picture show (1975)

halloween franchise (1978-)

friday the 13th franchise (1980-)

an american werewolf in london (1981)

dark crystal (1982)

a nightmare on elm street (1984)

ghostbusters (1984-)

ronja rövardotter (1984)

clue (1985)

princess bride (1987)

the witches of eastwick (1987)

elvira mistress of the dark (1988)

dead poets society (1989)

when harry met sally (1989)

ghost (1990)

the witches (1990)

death becomes her (1992)

hocus pocus (1993)

addams family values (1993)

interview with a vampie (1994)

the craft (1996)

the first wifes club (1996)

the scream franchise (1996-)

halloweentown (1998)

practical magic (1998)

you’ve got mail (1998)

the blair witch project (1999)

sleepy hollow (1999)

chocolat (2000)

amelie (2001)

the lord of the rings franchise (2001-2003)

scooby doo (2002)

school of rock (2003)

mona lisa smile (2003)

peter pan (2003)

pirates of the caribbean franchise (2003-2017)

north & south (2004)

pride and prejudice (2005)

the descent (2005)

just like heaven (2005)

the devil wears prada (2006)

the lake house (2006)

penelope (2006)

el orfanato (2007)

juno (2007)

ratatouille (2007)

bridge to terabithia (2007)

the edge of love (2008)

twilight (2008)

the curious case of benjamin button (2008)

julie & julia (2009)

jennifer’s body (2009)

dorian gray (2009)

coraline (2009)

true grit (2010)

the cabin in the woods (2011)

jane eyre (2011)

wuthering heights (2011)

perks of being a wallflower (2012)

the odd life of timothy green (2012)

hotel transylvania (2012-)

the conjuring franchise (2013-)

what we do in the shadows (2014)

the riot club (2014)

as above so below (2014)

john wick (2014-)

the age of adaline (2015)

the witch (2015)

far from the madding crowd (2015)

the edge of seventeen (2016)

paterson (2016)

20th century woman (2016)

the love witch (2016)

mary shelly (2017)

murder on the orient express (2017)

get out (2017)

a quiet place (2018 + 2020)

the guernsey literary and potato peel pie society (2018)

on the basis of sex (2018)

knives out (2019)

ready or not (2019)

the lighthouse (2019)

little women (2019)

the gentlemen (2019)

emma (2020)

ammonite (2020)

the dig (2021)

fear street trilogy (2021)

good luck to you, leo grande (2022)

the batman (2022)

fresh (2022)

bodies bodies bodies (2022)

mr malcom's list (2022)

totally killer (2023)

slay (2024)

🧦 ‧₊˚ ⋅ series ⋅˚₊‧

moomin (1990-1992)

twin peaks (1990-1991)

x files (1993-2018)

buffy the vampire slayer (1997-2003)

gilmore girls (2000-2007)

supernatural (2005-2020)

vampire diaries (2009-2017) / the originals (2013-2018) / legacies (2018-2022)

downton abbey (2010-2015)

the walking dead (2010-2022)

once upon a time (2011-2018)

american horror story (2011-)

teen wolf (2011-2017)

peaky blinders (2013-2022)

outlander (2014-)

how to get away with murder (2014-2020)

the magicians (2015-2020)

izombie (2015-2019)

poldark (2015-2019)

critical role (2015-)

stranger things (2016-)

ghost files / buzzfeed unsolved (2016-)

lucifer (2016-2021)

shadowhunters (2016-2019)

anne with an e (2017-2019)

the good fight (2017-2022)

riverdale (2017-2023)

manifest (2018-2023)

killing eve (2018-2022)

succession (2018-2023)

you (2018-)

a discovery of witches (2018-2022)

the chilling adventures of sabrina (2018-2020)

dickinson (2019-2021)

virgin river (2019-)

carnival row (2019-2023)

the witcher (2019-)

the umbrella academy (2019-2024)

sanditon (2019-2023)

good omens (2019-2025)

the haunting of bly manor (2020)

i’ll be gone in the dark (2020)

queens gambit (2020)

the great (2020-2023)

shadow and bone (2021-2023)

the nevers (2021-2023)

wednesday (2022-)

interview with the vampire (2022-)

vikings valhalla (2022-2024)

lessons in chemistry (2023)

my lady jane (2024-)

[dollwrites]

‘𝐭𝐢𝐥 𝐝𝐞𝐚𝐭𝐡 𝐝𝐨 𝐰𝐞 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐭 — 𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐢 𝐳𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐲𝐜𝐤

𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀 ∣ smut ( minors dni ), dub con, fem!bride!reader, kidnapping / forced domestication, loss of virginity, mentions of murder, blood and threats against reader, objectification / mild degradation, size kink, forced breeding kink / creampie, all characters featured are 18+

𝗶𝗺𝗽𝗼𝗿𝘁𝗮𝗻𝘁 ∣ do not repost or translate. please reblog && leave feedback. thanks for reading < 3

𝗻𝗼𝘄 𝗽𝗹𝗮𝘆𝗶𝗻𝗴 ∣ sex doll by nathan james

your instructions were all very clear, and very specific, but you found yourself struck speechless when he appeared. lightning scattered webs of silver across the night sky, thunder shook the entire mansion, and then he was standing there, on the balcony, just outside the crystal doors. your breath caught in your throat as he stares inside, dark eyes zeroed in on you, and one hand reaches for the latch. a gust of wind catches the unlocked glass and flings it inwards towards you, banging against the wall— the hinges creak, but hold. you flinch, startled, and stumble back, but he’s inside and across the room to stand before you in the blink of an eye, without so much as time to allow a droplet of rain from his inky tendrils to fall beforehand.

“I recognize you.”

he must; the pearly white chiffon of your gown was tattered and stained a muted rust— dried blood. what had become of your veil or your shoes were unbeknownst to you, forgotten when you hid underneath the altar and clamped a hand over your mouth to not alert the mass murderer of your presence whilst he slaughtered the entire wedding party.

of course, he’d been privy all along, and simply bent over to peek inside at you once he was finished. black eyes were devoid of any remorse, but he didn’t try to reach and pull you out, or kill you. he simply stared for a moment or two, probably listening to the sound of you sobbing and begging him not to hurt you, and then straightened without so much as a whisper, and left.

it wasn’t until after you’d crawled out and witnessed the carnage that you’d been taken.

you hardly hear it— the savage thumping of your nervous heart much too loud in your ears, as is the way you suck in a desperate gulp. “I— I—“ think, dammit. but, where had your thoughts gone? had they, along with your ability to breathe, been stolen?

“Who left you in here?” the assassin’s expression wasn’t soft, but it was understanding. as if he knew that someone as meek as you would have trouble being this close to him. yet, still expectant of answer. “You didn’t make it to my bedroom by yourself.”

“Your f—father.” you don’t recognize your voice when it leaves your lips, it’s much too soft a whisper. then again, there was no need for you to be any louder than that; he was so close that you could smell the fresh rain in his hair. “He says…” the words Silva used were embarrassing and horrible, but you were told to recite them verbatim. and so you do. “He says that since you didn’t finish the job, he kept your compensation. The only payment you’re allowed is…” your voice was starting to shake.

“You.” Illumi finishes for you, staring down with an unreadable, abysmal gaze, and his head slowly tilts, as if he’s starting to understand, or, perhaps, ponder the possibilities. “Hm.”

you’re relieved for some reason, when he turns away and struts to the other side of the room. you feel like you can breathe for a moment while his back is turned.

but only for a single moment.

because that oxygen is wrenched away from you the second he peels out of his wet shirt, allowing it to fall in a damp heap on the floor. “W— what are you—“ your cheeks were hot, but you felt as though your feet were frozen solid to the floor, unable to move even an inch, you watched him undress. your eyes grazed over the dips in his abdomen when he turns, partially, to face you. each pad of muscle is blanketed artfully in ivory flesh with ribbons of rain dribbling from the raven tips that cascade over his shoulders and tickle his belly. “What are you doing?”

“Undressing.” he said, incredibly simply. you could see that much. but, you were more concerned that he was doing it right in front of you. his hands fall to his waistband, and he makes short work of it, allowing his trousers to join the other garments. this is when you look away, when he’s stark naked. you want to hide behind both hands, but you’re much too in shock to command your muscles to move. “You’ll be expected to get used to my naked body if you’re going to be my pet.” you feel a tight, cold grip around your wrist and the need to jerk back overwhelms you, but he’s stronger and holds you there. when did he cross the room to come back to you? it didn’t matter; it seemed like when Illumi moved, he did so on clouds. he was silent and quick. guiding your trembling fingers to his abdomen, he presses your palm flat. you can feel the solid muscle that’s been built over years of harsh training beneath his skin.

“P—pet…” you whisper, hopelessly.

“If you prefer bride, I can call you that.” Illumi offers, flippant, and drags your hand down to his sex. the suddenness in which he forces your fingers to envelop the girth of his soft cock elicits a whimpered protest, one that has him twitching against your fingers. “It makes no difference to me. Property is property.” for a while, Illumi allows your fist to rest there, giving you time to familiarize with the sensation of him in your palm. he didn’t even force you to watch— not minding that you kept your eyes closed tight and your chin tucked into your chest. “How should I have you first?” inquiring aloud, Illumi takes hold of your fingers and glides them up the length of his cock, pressing the tips against the sensitive slit, and snorts through his nose in approval, before pushing your hand back down to his base, guiding you into a steady, stroking rhythm that had him hardening against your palm. “Should I put you on your knees and have you worship my cock? Etch prayers into it with your tongue?”

your cheeks were even hotter now, teeth sinking into your plush, lower lip as you shied away from his words. you knew he was watching your reaction, and he must’ve read it instantly. “I’d have to teach you, I suppose,” he replies, as if mildly disappointed, “and I’m in no mood to tutor right now. he lets out a soft sigh, releasing your hand, “it would be easier to put you on your back.” your hand slows to a stop, eyes opening wide when you realize his intentions, and his now rock hard cock throbs in your fist. both of his hands came up to frame your face now, tilting it up, forcing you to stare into his obsidian gaze. “I didn’t tell you to stop stroking.” he croons, and the atmosphere around you felt like it weighed a ton, bearing down on your shoulders. you were locked in his stare, with his lips moving inches away from yours, but you found the will to pump him again, your couplet trembling. “It would be very stupid for you to disobey me,” he purrs, and takes a daunting step closer, forcing you to back up. and another, and then another. “I’m glad you know that, at least.”

he had grown in your hand, and now his cock was thick and solid, and it took both hands to wrap around him. Illumi took a final step towards you, and when you stumbled back this time, the backs of your knees hit the foot of the bed and bent; you clamored backwards on to it. there was a split second where you worried that Illumi’s cock would slip from your hands, but he was right there, climbing atop the mattress and atop you, before you had time to think. his hands never even slipped from your cheeks, until his knees pried a gap between your legs that he could fit into.

“Hold your legs open.”

grateful that you could stop stroking, your hands fled to grab on to your thighs, spreading them apart with shame written over your features. you couldn’t look at him any longer, and turn your head against the pillow.

Illumi blinks, one brow quirking, before flipping the skirt of your gown up on to your belly, exposing your panties. you were embarrassed to admit that you could feel the wet patch that had grown against the cotton even before he pressed the cold pads of his first, two fingers against it. you whimper, and writhe. “Wet already?” he asks, rubbing against the fabric until you tremble and start to inch up the mattress, desperate to get away from the sensation, but one hand grabs your ankle and jerks you back down to him in a swift, rough motion. your dress scrunches up around your waist. “Stay put.”

you know better than to fight against it, even when he wrenches your panties down, but your heart is revving like an engine, your breath hard to catch. you’re so afraid that this man, this murderer, is going to damage your body simply because he can. that he’ll hurt you in the most intimate ways possible, and there would be no one to save you from his cruelty.

“Look at it.”

you could feel the broad, pink tip, prodding against your virgin netherlips and you gasp for air, but turn your head slowly back towards him. you didn’t want to look. you didn’t want to see your assault happen. but you do because you don’t have another choice. “P—please…”

Illumi doesn’t push himself inside just yet. holding tight at the base of his cock, his hips only hardly jut forward, applying enough pressure for your folds to spread. then, he starts in a nonchalant, but certain voice. “I’m going to fuck your little pussy deep, and hard.” you didn’t even realize you were shaking your head, but you stared at his size, nervously. you couldn’t imagine that thing fitting in your body, but he continues, as if solidifying his threats. “You’ll feel every, single inch. You can scream as loud as you want, cry as much as you want, but you keep your legs wide and accept me. Keep your eyes open and watch me fuck you. If you don’t, your stay here will shorten tremendously. Nod if you understand.”

you can’t look up at his face, eyes glued to the manhood ready to split you in half, and you swallow hard around the lump in your throat, before you give him half a nod. you can do this, you tried to tell yourself. it’ll only hurt for a second.

when he forces it inside, you lose your breath completely, yelping when, inch by inch, the thick cock disappears. there’s a sharp, sudden pressure in your depths, and you know this must be the severing of your innocence. “If you get any blood on my sheets, I’ll wrap them around your neck and squeeze.” he mutters, low and threatening. you knew he wasn’t lying.

you mewl, and your nails sink into your own, fleshy thighs to grip tighter. you don’t want to break any of his rules. Illumi moans, for the first time, when he’s completely nested to the hilt, one hand reaching for your neck. he doesn’t squeeze, thankfully, but he grips it to pin you against the bed, while the other gropes your breast through the ivory bust. he’s still staring, watching how you flinch and whine as you struggle to accommodate him. “You’re a tight, little thing.” he doesn’t sound particularly happy or disappointed by the fact, but he punctuates the statement with a strong rock of his hips, slamming himself home. your back arches, and you cry out, mouth hanging slack, at just how much force was behind each slow, deep thrust.

he hadn’t been bluffing.

you could feel every, thick inch as your walls stretch and spasm around him, flittering wildly against the pulsing veins that bulge and scrape against your sensitivity. his bulbous tip pummels knotted nerves relentlessly until you feel tears well up in your eyes. whether it’s pain or pleasure, you can’t tell the difference.

Illumi starts to look, and sound, more human with each thrust— his lids sag low, his jaw works, and he snorts through his nose. you could even see a faint twinkle of perspiration against his temple. he’s hunched forward, hovering above, pressing his forehead to yours. his wet hair draping over you like a black curtain, engulfing you in his scent, making it hard to see anything except what he wanted you to. which was him, decimating you. “You look pathetic, bleary eyed and whiny,” he started, his breath in warm puffs against the cold tears on your cheeks. each word seems is separated by the sensation of him pounding into you, the sound of his body slapping against yours, and your own slick squelching hideously. “But you’re still taking it.” he almost sounds… impressed? “Your little pussy is stretched to her limit, but she’s still milking me. Who could’ve known? Behind those tears, there’s a cock-starved, little fuck doll?”

it was humiliating, degrading, but for some reason— you only clenched around him tighter. you only felt yourself get wetter when his hand careens upwards to grasp your face, keeping it steady as he bullied your guts. your mouth hung open, and just as you’d been given permission to, you let out a lilting shriek. your legs were starting to shake. but, you could also tell that something was building inside of Illumi, too.

it didn’t take a genius to figure out what it was.

realizing he had no intentions of pulling out, you squirm, and your hands fall between your bodies to press against his taut abdomen, whimpering a breathy, “Please— don’t— not… inside…”

but Illumi didn’t stop. he didn’t pull out. he rammed into you just as hard, and your breasts jiggle against the sagging neckline of your dress. you croak, hoarse, and stare up at him, squinting against his cruelty. “You’re my bride, aren’t you?” he croons, dark eyes expecting ( and receiving ) a submissive, yet reluctant nod. “Then act like it. Beg me to breed you.”

sniffling, your nails barely scrape at his flesh, and you gurgle a soft and pathetic, wet eyes full of protest, “P—please… breed me… Cum in me… please, Illumi—“

Illumi groans in approval, a wicked smile spreading across his tiers when he comes undone. both of his hands wrap around your throat now, and he buries himself as deep as he can force to pump you full of his warm release. even as you snub and squirm and gurgle, you can feel how full you are of him, and it’s a sickening feeling.

he’s released you a few moments later, favoring his side of the massive bed, and you remain on your back, legs open and quivering, core feeling hollowed out and sore, for a while before he murmurs, “You’ll need to tend to my wet clothes, and do away with that tattered dress, before you can rest.”

blinking, you take a couple of breaths before slowly closing your legs. the muscles are aching, and you have to do everything at a snail’s pace, including pulling yourself off the mattress. when your feet hit the cold, hard floor, your knees want to buckle. you’re wobbly at best, one hand gripping your lower belly as you let out a whispered cry discomfort. the bridal gown hangs askew on your body, now stained with more than just blood and sweat, and you stumble, awkward on your own, two legs, over to the pile of wet clothes. gathering them all up, you hug them close to your chest and turn to look at him, meek and bashful. how hopeless you must appear to him in this moment. “What do I… what do I do with them?”

Illumi looks at you, unblinking, and runs his fingers through his hair as he props up on his elbow. he’s shameless in the way he’s splayed, nude across the bed, his soft cock draped over his thigh. “The butler will meet you at the door, he’ll show you the laundry and where to bathe and dress.” he tilts his head, watching you stumble, still disoriented and uncertain, towards the door. you can’t really see it in the dark, but there’s a faint fondness in the depth of his eyes. “Hurry back, too.”

curious, you nibble on your lower lip and push the door open. just as he’d said, a tall man clad in a crisp suit is waiting on the other side. there’s a glimmer of distaste for how filthy you are as he sees you, but it’s gone in an instant as he grabs hold of your elbow, none too gentle. you look over your shoulder at Illumi, and blurt out before the man can drag you away, “Aren’t you worried I might r— run away or something?”

the worst part about Illumi’s smile is that his eyes turned icy and diabolical when his lips curved upwards; the two counterparts didn’t match. “And go to whom?” he asks, taunting, before adding simply because he could: “I killed everyone that knew or cared about you already, remember?”

[eu-nicola]

the family [part 1]

sinopsis: In Italy 1850 Lucien a former priest gets involved in a game of seduction with his girlfriend's younger sister; what begins as flirting becomes a destructive obsession

warnings: love triangle, forbidden relationship, tension

word counter: 3720

author's note: english is not my first language, the tags are not correct so don't tell me anything cause I ALREADY KNOW, then I'm going to correct

It was a summer afternoon in Italy, in 1825. The sun was sliding lazily over the green hills and terracotta roofs, illuminating the elegant palazzo that stood on the outskirts of Florence, home of the Ricci family. Lucien arrived accompanied by a black carriage and a pair of suitcases that seemed to contain everything he owned. With the past still fresh in his mind, he got out of the carriage with a calmness that did not reflect the tumult inside him. He had left the life of a priest a couple of years ago, seeking redemption and new experiences. But in Giuliana, his fiancée, Lucien had found something unexpected: a discreet love that seemed to offer him a second chance at peace.

Giuliana greeted him with a radiant smile at the foot of the entrance stairs. Dressed in a soft sky blue that highlighted her eyes, she radiated elegance and simplicity.

—Lucien, my love! “I am so glad you have arrived,” she said, extending a gloved hand and looking at him with the reserved affection of a bride.

“You don’t know how much I have been waiting for this moment,” he replied, leaning down to kiss her fingers softly.

Giuliana smiled, her cheeks flushing slightly, but her gaze soon turned to the door.

“I want to introduce you to my family. They are very excited to meet you.”

Lucien followed Giuliana into the palazzo, as they walked through a hall filled with ancient frescoes and the scent of freshly polished wax and fresh flowers. Upon reaching the large room, his gaze fell on every detail: the portraits of ancestors hanging on the walls, the chandeliers filled with crystals, the mahogany furniture, all witnesses to the wealth and prestige of the Ricci family.

Around a tea table sat Giuliana's parents and her younger sister, Isabella. Seeing Lucien, the father stood up and greeted him with a firm nod, while Giuliana's mother gave him a polite smile.

"Lucien, dear, allow me to introduce you to my parents," Giuliana said with a smile, feeling proud to have him at her side.

"It's an honor to finally meet you," Lucien said, bowing respectfully to them.

After the formal greetings, Lucien turned his attention to the young woman sitting next to Giuliana. Unlike her sister, who possessed the serenity of a well-bred woman, Isabella exuded an almost wild vitality, even if she tried to hide it under the manners that the situation demanded. Her hair fell in dark waves around her shoulders, and her eyes—a shade between amber and honey—watched him with curiosity and a slight smile that she tried to hide. Isabella looked to be about nineteen, and there was something in her bearing that reminded her of a wild animal, trapped in a fine suit and impeccable hairdo.

“Isabella, my younger sister,” Giuliana announced. “Isabella, this is Lucien.”

“Nice to meet you, Lucien,” Isabella said, her voice soft but with a hint of irony, a spark that immediately caught Lucien’s attention.

Lucien noticed how Isabella examined him closely. Unlike the others, her eyes did not reflect the courtesy that good manners required; there was an intensity in them that she did not bother to hide, as if she wanted to see him as he was, without filters or appearances.

“The pleasure is mine, Isabella,” he replied, bowing slightly and keeping his gaze fixed on her for a few seconds longer than necessary.

As the minutes ticked by and tea was served, Lucien tried to concentrate on the conversations about family business and the upcoming festivities Giuliana had planned in honor of his arrival. But something inside him kept him from paying full attention; whenever he could, his gaze returned to Isabella, who seemed to have no intention of hiding the effect she had on him.

During tea, Isabella made some irreverent comments that provoked awkward laughter at the table. His mother gave him a disapproving look, but Lucien couldn't help but find a freshness in those comments that surprised him. Giuliana, always calm, tried to divert attention to more appropriate topics, but Isabella seemed to enjoy her reactions, as if she found pleasure in testing the limits of everyone's patience.

As the afternoon drew to a close, as the Ricci family showed Lucien around the gardens and showed him the orchard they maintained at the back of the palazzo, he lingered beside Isabella. Isabella had been quiet during the walk, observing the flowers and fountains with a thoughtful expression, until she noticed Lucien's gaze following her.

"Are you surprised to find me silent?" she asked, shooting him a glance.

"Perhaps a little," Lucien replied, choosing his words carefully. He didn't want to be too obvious, but he couldn't deny that curiosity consumed him.

"You shouldn't let my words fool you," she replied, locking eyes with him. "Maybe I'm just a mirage in a garden."

Lucien smiled. There was something about Isabella that was magnetic to him, something he'd never felt with Giuliana, though he tried hard to remind himself that he was there as her fiancé. Isabella, however, had a way of looking at him that made him feel naked, as if she saw beyond his facade of a reformed gentleman.

“A mirage that, however, seems very real at the moment,” he said, unable to resist returning her gaze.

Isabella lowered her gaze, but a lopsided smile appeared on her lips. The tension between them was palpable, as if the air between them had become thick and charged with unspoken promises. For Lucien, this was something new, a spark of life and risk that drew him irremediably.

Isabella had always been a vivid contrast to her sister Giuliana, like shadow and light, or fire and water. While Giuliana was calm and serene, dedicated to pleasing her parents and honoring her family, Isabella was a burning flame, always ready to be fanned by any small breath of adventure. Although they shared the same education in the arts, language, and sciences proper to young ladies of her status, Isabella had grown up with a restlessness that her parents never managed to appease, as if something inside her always yearned for more.

Since she was little, she had stood out for her inclination towards daring ideas, and although she knew how to present herself as a perfect lady in front of everyone, those who knew her well knew that she was unpredictable, capable of disappearing without warning and getting lost in the nearby forest or in the streets of the town. Isabella did not obey rules in the same way that Giuliana did; she knew the rules, yes, but she preferred to break them rather than follow them.

As a child, she had been found more than once hiding in the stables, trying to ride the horses on her own without the help of a groom. Unlike Giuliana, who would never have questioned her mother's instructions on what was appropriate for a lady, Isabella had always been direct and shameless, defying every expectation. Even now, as a woman, she had not lost her tendency to behave in a brazen manner, always on the edge of what was allowed.

During family dinners, Isabella would often provoke her parents, sometimes with little jokes, other times with questions that she knew would make her mother uncomfortable. Although Giuliana would often try to intervene with a disapproving look, Isabella would always return an amused smile, as if the conflict was just a game she had invented to entertain herself.

The next day, Lucien watched her again as they ate breakfast together. Isabella had arrived a little late, apologizing with a smile that didn't seem apologetic at all. Her parents didn't say anything, though her mother gave her a disapproving look. Lucien noticed that Isabella seemed to enjoy every chance she got to make her parents uncomfortable. She took a seat next to Giuliana and gave Lucien a fleeting glance before focusing her attention on her tea. However, when she thought no one was looking at her, he noticed how her expression changed, becoming more open, less restrained.

"Did you have a good rest, Lucien?" Isabella asked in a casual tone, but with a hint of irony that didn't go unnoticed by him.

"That's right, thank you," he replied, smiling slightly. "The house is really cozy."

"And even more so if you have the freedom to explore its corners," she added, giving him a sidelong glance. Or to disappear whenever you want.

Giuliana frowned slightly, as if she sensed the underlying tone in his words, but said nothing. Lucien, however, understood the provocation. With Isabella, it seemed that every word was double-edged, every smile. Over the next few days, Lucien watched her more closely, fascinated by that duality of hers. There was something about the way Isabella moved, how she constantly sought to escape the gaze of her parents, the expectations imposed by her surname.

One such evening, while Giuliana was helping her mother with the preparations for dinner, Lucien decided to take a walk around the palazzo. It was a beautiful evening, with the sky covered in golden and pink hues, and the wind carried with it the scent of jasmine and wet grass. He was walking aimlessly through the gardens, admiring the fountains and classical statues, when he heard a light laugh coming from the hedges. At first, he thought it was some maid of the house; However, when he peeked out a little, he saw the figure of Isabella, who, without noticing his presence, was busy picking small wild flowers that had sprouted between the stones of a path.

Lucien watched her in silence, captivated by her naturalness, by the way she let herself be carried away by the moment. She looked carefree and full of life, as if this garden were her own secret refuge. Lucien felt the urge to come closer, to share this moment, even if only as an invisible observer.

Isabella, however, noticed him before he could do anything.

“Oh, Lucien,” she said with a playful smile, her eyes shining at the sight of him. “Do you like spying?”

Lucien blushed slightly, although he tried to hide it.

“Not at all, but it seems that fate insists on putting you in my path,” he replied, maintaining his composure and sketching a slight smile.

“Fate?” she replied, arching an eyebrow. I'd never heard him apologize so blatantly, though I suppose there's something to be said for interrupting someone else's moment.

Isabella gave him a mocking look, but deep down Lucien felt she was testing him, as if she wanted to see how he would react. Undaunted, he moved a little closer, until only a couple of steps separated them. Isabella didn't back away; on the contrary, she looked him straight in the eye, not losing a drop of her confidence.

“I didn’t mean to interrupt,” he said, adopting a softer tone. “I thought you would be inside, helping your sister.”

“Giuliana is the one with the virtue of patience,” she replied with a touch of irony. “I prefer to be here, rather than sit and listen to my mother talk about what a lady should and shouldn’t do.”

There was a brief silence, and Lucien felt the air around him grow thicker. Isabella’s proximity, her scent of wildflowers and her gaze awakened in him a longing he couldn’t deny. He knew it was inappropriate, that his role was that of a faithful and devoted fiancé, but in Isabella’s presence, all that determination felt like a thin thread about to snap.

“You don’t like that life?” he dared to ask, unable to contain his curiosity.

Isabella looked at him for a moment, as if considering whether to answer him honestly.

“Not entirely.” It’s a nice life, of course, but it’s not the one I want for myself,” he finally answered. “Giuliana can have all that; she’s perfect for that world. I…” he looked down at the flowers in his hand. “I want something different.”

“And what is it that you want?” Lucien asked, not taking his eyes off her.

Isabella looked up, and for a second, her expression was serious, without a trace of the mockery or disdain she often used. There was a deep sadness in her eyes, a kind of melancholy that Lucien had not seen in her until that moment.

“Freedom, perhaps,” she murmured. “The freedom to live without so many rules, without having to answer to anyone but myself. Sometimes I feel like I’m like one of these birds,” she added, pointing to a bird flying above them, “trapped in a golden cage.”

Lucien felt a pang in his chest as he listened to her. He had expected some light response, some witty comment, but instead Isabella had let her guard down, if only for an instant, showing him a vulnerability that touched him. For a moment, he was tempted to tell her that he understood her, that he shared that desire to escape, even if it wasn’t exactly the same.

Isabella turned to him suddenly, an intensity in her gaze that almost made him recoil.

“Tell me, Lucien,” she said in a whisper, “do you ever feel like this? Like you’re trapped in a place that’s not yours?”

The question surprised him, and although his instincts told him to keep his distance, something in her eyes pushed him to be honest.

“Yes, sometimes,” he admitted, without taking his eyes off her. “Though, unlike you, I don’t think I have anyone to blame but myself.”

Isabella watched him intently, as if she were weighing his every word, trying to decipher what he wasn't saying.

Suddenly, Isabella smiled, a smile that was a mix of complicity and defiance.

"Maybe you can escape, Lucien. Maybe there's something, someone, who can make you remember what it feels like to be free."

The implication in her words was so obvious that Lucien felt a heat rise to his face. But instead of backing away, he leaned a little closer to her, keeping his gaze fixed on Isabella's eyes. He could feel her breathing, and every fiber of his being asked him to break all the rules, to give in to that impulse that whispered to him to take her by the hand, to cross that invisible line that he himself had drawn.

"And you, Isabella?" he murmured, in a tone that sounded more intimate than he intended. "Do you think there's someone who can give you that freedom you so desire?"

Isabella looked at him intently, and for a moment, it seemed she was going to respond. But instead, she simply smiled and stepped away from him, taking a few steps back.

“Perhaps,” she said, her tone both light and deep. “But if there is someone capable of that, they will have to be very bold.”

Without saying anything else, she turned and began walking back toward the palazzo, leaving Lucien alone in the garden, lost in his thoughts and in the echo of her words. She knew there was something dangerous about that attraction, that every time they met, they came closer to a point of no return. And yet, Lucien couldn’t ignore the growing desire that drove him to want more, to find out how far he could go in this game that Isabella seemed to have started.

This little game continued on Giuliana’s birthday which was cause for celebration, the night of the ball, the palazzo was filled with light and music, with the chandeliers shining over the crowd dancing in the main hall. The guests, in their evening gowns and sparkling jewelry, moved gracefully to the tune of a delicate melody that filled the air. Lucien stood next to Giuliana, fulfilling the role of the perfect fiancé as he surveyed the guests, exchanging polite greetings and responding with a discreet smile.

Every time his gaze swept the room, his eyes unwittingly sought out Isabella.

She, on the other hand, seemed perfectly oblivious to him, laughing and chatting with a few family friends and maintaining an expression of innocent amusement. Isabella wore an emerald silk dress, which fell in delicate layers and moved with each step she took. Lucien noticed that the color highlighted her eyes and made her seem an even more ethereal figure. Despite his effort to stay focused on Giuliana, Lucien couldn't help but look towards her, trying to find some sign, some gesture that would welcome him to seek her out.

Finally, Isabella surprised him. Barely sparing him a glance, she slipped away from the crowd, leaving her companions with an improvised excuse and disappearing through one of the side doors that led to the gardens. Lucien felt his pulse quicken, and even though he knew he shouldn’t follow her, his body moved before he could stop himself. He waited a few seconds, bidding farewell to Giuliana under the excuse of needing some fresh air, and, making sure no one was watching, he headed towards the garden following Isabella’s footsteps.

He found her in a secluded corner of the garden, surrounded by rose bushes that filled the air with a sweet scent. She was standing under the moonlight, watching the stars as if he wasn’t there, as if his presence didn’t matter. Lucien looked at her for a moment, captivated by the image: Isabella, in her silk dress, illuminated by the silver light and the night air gently playing with her hair. Finally, he dared to approach.

“Escaping the party?” —he murmured in a low tone, trying to maintain his composure, although his words sounded more intimate than he intended.

She turned her head slowly and gave him a smile that seemed to know much more than he wanted to admit.

“Escaping is something that gives me a certain pleasure,” she replied in a carefree tone, her eyes reflecting the light of the stars. “Though, if I'm being honest, I didn't expect anyone to follow me.”

“Maybe I was looking for a moment of peace,” he replied, moving a little closer. “But seeing you here, I thought that maybe peace wasn’t what I really needed tonight.”

Isabella stared at him, and for a moment that seemed like an eternity, she said nothing. Then, she smiled mischievously and extended her hand towards him, as if she were making a tacit invitation to cross the line that they had both been skirting since they met.

“So, what do you need tonight, Lucien?” she asked, her voice low, almost a whisper.

Lucien looked at her hand, and although he knew that accepting meant entering into a game of no return, he took her hand firmly. Feeling her skin, warm and soft, he felt an electric shock run through his body, a spark that ignited all his senses. Isabella intertwined her fingers with his, and without saying anything, she began to guide him through the garden, away from the music, the lights, and any prying eyes.

After walking a bit, they reached an even more hidden corner, near a marble fountain that stood imposingly in the middle of the garden. There, far from any interruptions, Isabella stopped and turned to look at him, her eyes shining with an intensity that seemed to challenge him.

“I suppose my sister would never understand why I prefer to be here instead of in the ballroom,” she said softly, without letting go of his hand.

“Giuliana has a very different spirit than you,” Lucien replied, with a sincerity that came out almost without thinking. “You are…” he paused, searching for the right words, although they all seemed insufficient. “different.”

Isabella smiled with a glint of mischief in her eyes, aware of the effect her words had on him.

“Is that a compliment?” she asked, leaning slightly towards him, shortening the distance between them.

Lucien noticed how his breath mixed with hers, and, without thinking, he slid his hand to her waist, pulling her gently. In any other situation, it would have been inappropriate, but in this corner, under the cover of night, there were no restrictions or formalities. Isabella did not resist; on the contrary, she moved a little closer, allowing their bodies to brush against each other, the space between them to become almost nonexistent.

“What do you think?” he murmured, his lips almost brushing hers.

Isabella kept her gaze fixed on him, her dark eyes reflecting a mix of desire and defiance.

“I think you've been playing at being someone you're not for too long,” she whispered, and, without giving him time to respond, she leaned in and brushed her lips against his in a soft kiss, barely a touch, but intense enough for both of them to feel the heat between them.

Lucien felt every fiber of his being ignite at that kiss, and, casting aside all doubt, he pulled her to him, deepening the kiss. Isabella responded immediately, with the same restrained passion, the same silent desire they had both suppressed for so long. Their lips moved urgently, as if that kiss was a need they couldn’t ignore, as if it was the answer to a question that had been left unresolved since the first moment they met.

They finally broke apart, breathing heavily, and Lucien looked at her, trying to process what had just happened. He knew it was crazy, that this moment could change everything, but he couldn’t ignore the fire burning inside him, the desire Isabella had awakened in him.

Isabella smiled, a mischievous glint in her eyes, as if she had gotten exactly what she wanted.

“I’m afraid if you keep crossing the line, Lucien, there will be no turning back,” she said in a soft tone, but filled with an unspoken promise.

“What if I don’t want to turn back?” he asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Isabella looked at him for a moment, and then, instead of answering, she took his hand and brought it to her chest, right over her heart. Lucien felt her heartbeat accelerate, and in that moment, he understood that what they shared was something neither of them could ignore. Lucien knew there was no escape now.

[mychlapci]

Planetfucker scenario? I'll try my best! If this is a hit, I'll write a (weird-birth-stuff) part 2! :D

AU where at the very start of the war, when Orion first acquired the Matrix, tensions were so high that he could not reasonably abandon his Autobots to spend Primus knows how many cycles on Earth appeasing the Unmaker… After many lengthy debates with the high council and his closest confidants, shockingly Prowl volunteered to go in his stead.

Prowl, young but pragmatic, argues that it's for the best. The Autobots need a leader, which Prowl is not. What he is is knowledgeable, quick witted, and level headed. He's perfectly capable of impersonating a Prime for the union rituals. Maybe he underestimated the task, or maybe he simply doesn't trust anyone else to do it right. 

Optimus protests at first, but eventually concedes… and Prowl is sent to Earth in his stead. 

He makes a stunning bride, clad from helm to peds in traditional crystal jewelry. Prime dresses Prowl himself, hanging glimmering heirloom jewels from his doorwings and stringing beaded necklaces around his neck and waist as he guiltily laments his decision to let Prowl shoulder one of his sworn duties. He accompanies Prowl all the way to Earth, bidding his friend goodbye, goodluck, and thanks before returning to Cybertron.

Upon arrival, Prowl finds himself standing at the maw of a grand cavern hidden deep within a mountainous region of Earth. The air emanating from inside is warm and humid. He enters cautiously, descending a winding path to the heart of the cave system.

The further he walks, the more he swears he can sense the walls around him pulsing in a faint but constant rhythm… The Unmaker knows he’s here.

He traverses a series of neverending tunnels, relying on his senses and pure instinct to lead him through the maze-like system. The further he walks, the more oppressive the heat and humidity becomes, the walls seem to narrow and close in around him. Black creeps into the corners of his vision, and a thick fog of static clouds his processor the closer he draws to Unicorn's core. He's barely aware of the gradual charge steadily building in his array until he feels slick seeping from the seams of his panel. 

Hours, or maybe days pass. By the time he reaches the core, he's enveloped in nauseating heat, swaying with every step as his vision swims in and out of focus. The walls pulse around him in a steady rhythm, lulling him deeper into a haze. 

Dim biolights cast the small central chamber in a warm red glow, every surface inside is made of plush organic matter. At the center of the Unmaker’s core is an engorged mass of flesh and tangled tendrils, eggs shifting visibly beneath its surface, with something resembling a valve at its center. 

Prowl’s whole frame feels feverish, his breath coming out in ragged pants as a sweet, heady scent assails his senses. His panels snap open, lubricant gushing down his trembling thighs and his spike already fully pressurized. He collapses over the mound before he can stop himself. 

His head is pounding as he pants and moans against the soft organic matter. He can't think, but he knows what to do. The countless crystals which adorn his frame gleam beneath the pulsating biolights around him, chiming and jingling with every quiver of his doorwings, reflecting a kaleidoscope of shifting red and pink lights all around the chamber. 

His bleary optics are transfixed on the pretty lights as he feebly ruts his spike into the slick, hot valve of the Unmaker. He doesn't last very long… but here, mere seconds feel like an eternity. And he doesn't stop after the first overload. He pumps load after load of transfluid into Unicron's greedy valve, sobbing and shaking as his spike is milked in time with the rhythm of the pulsing lights around him. 

Eventually, he collapses over the plush bed of tendrils and fleah, his battle computer offline and higher functions failing him as the rhythmic throb of the lights and walls flood his senses. 

Prowl’s half-hard spike is still buried in the Unmaker’s valve. He’s on the verge of unconsciousness when he feels a thin, slimy tendril coiling around his leg. Then another, caressing his jaw, slimy and sluggish as it slides over his face like a long, deft tongue. The cavern around him rumbles, a pleased purr emanating from the Unmaker as it maps out Prowl's features. More join, caressing his frame and playing with the pretty jewels that adorn it. 

When the first tentacle finds his valve, Prowl nearly short circuits. His inner callips eagerly cycle around the digit, coaxing it further inside as his anterior node throbs with charge. Two more join the first, pumping in and out of his valve, twisting together and writhing within him before pulling apart and shamelessly spreading him wide open. Prowl whines weakly at the sensation, mind numbing static smothering any discomfort and leaving only dull aching pleasure in its wake. 

A new tendril emerges from the nest beneath him, thick and slimy as it slides against the curve of his aft. It lines up with his gaping hole, easing its way inside with no difficulty. Prowl squeals as it hits his ceiling node with the first slow, deep thrust. 

Unicron sets a steady pace, pounding Prowl's sloppy valve in a maddening rhythm. Prowl jerks and bucks his hips with every drag against his calipers, grinding his spike against the Unmaker’s valve as he squirms and wriggles in its hold. He's held in place by countless tendrils, they coil around his limbs and wriggle against his plating. One finds its way to his mouth, sliding against his glossa before finally fucking his throat in earnest.

Prowl’s vaguely aware of the mass beneath him shifting, the massive clutch of eggs inside moving and deprleting as the thick tentacle in his valve forces its way deeper, bullying the seal of his gestation tank until it finally gives.

His vision goes white, his cries muffled by the tendril in his mouth as the one in his valve suddenly expands. 

Prowl’s calipers are spread wide around the first of many eggs as they're pumped into his gestation tank one after another. For what feels like an eternity, he lays twitching, writhing, and in a near constant state of overload as his sloppy valve swallows Unicron’s clutch. His midriff swells and distends as his spike drools transfluid in a near constant stream, leaking all over the Unmaker's remaining eggs which the tendril promptly pumps into his valve to incubate. 

By the time Unicron is finished, Prowl’s a twitching, drooling mess. All he can do is whine and twitch against the bed of flesh beneath him, engulfed in a mass of writhing tentacles which leaves no spot on his frame untouched…

When Prowl finally emerges from the caves, he has no concept of how much time has passed. He gradually regains cognition, only to realize how much his frame has changed. The seams of his plating are caked with strange sweet slime, his hips are wider… And most obviously, his stomach is horribly distended, awkwardly impeding his gait. 

All he can do is slowly waddle out into the open, the few crystals which still hang from his doorwings jingling with every trundle.

He rests his weary frame atop a flat slab of rock as he absentmindedly activates a locater beacon. Though his mind is mostly clear now, he can't fight the overwhelming urge to return to Cybertron to birth his mate’s brood…

-🦴

ohhHh buddy this was a fucking banger. extremely funny confession, i haven’t even considered Unicron getting his brides pregnant yet ahsjjskhshhk

I love everything about this, the way entering Unicron only makes Prowl more and more hazy and horny, the way time passes slowly and sludge-like and his processor feels so overwhelmed with sensation, Unicron’s valve beckoning him forth, tendrils slipping egg after egg into Prowl until he’s overloading constantly without a break….

mhmmm Prowl comes back to Cybertron bearing the spawn of his new conjux, and Optimus can't help but think about how it was him who was supposed to be in Prowl's role right now, birthing Unicron's brood....

[demelzathemer]

My Heart Is a Haunted House

𝘊����𝘢𝘳𝘭𝘦𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘈𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦, 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘨𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘱𝘴𝘦𝘴, 𝘗𝘢𝘺𝘯𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥 + 𝘗𝘢𝘭𝘢𝘴𝘢𝘬𝘪, 𝘳𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘛

@dbdpromptober Day 14: Sorrow (words: 1308)

(I did it!! After five days and four rewrites, we've reached Tears to Shed. Idk why the cat king chapters are hardest to write but end up being the ones I'm most proud of)

Payneland Corpse Bride AU

First Previous

𝓘𝓯 𝓘 𝓽𝓸𝓾𝓬𝓱 𝓪 𝓫𝓾𝓻𝓷𝓲𝓷𝓰 𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓵𝓮 𝓘 𝓬𝓪𝓷 𝓯𝓮𝓮𝓵 𝓷𝓸 𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓷

𝓘𝓯 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓬𝓾𝓽 𝓶𝓮 𝔀𝓲𝓽𝓱 𝓪 𝓴𝓷𝓲𝓯𝓮 𝓲𝓽'𝓼 𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓼𝓪𝓶𝓮

𝓐𝓷𝓭 𝓘 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓱𝓮𝓻 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓻𝓽 𝓲𝓼 𝓫𝓮𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓰

𝓐𝓷𝓭 𝓘 𝓴𝓷𝓸𝔀 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓘 𝓪𝓶 𝓭𝓮𝓪𝓭

𝓨𝓮𝓽 𝓽𝓱𝓮 𝓹𝓪𝓲𝓷 𝓱𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓘 𝓯𝓮𝓮𝓵

𝓣𝓻𝔂 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓽𝓮𝓵𝓵 𝓶𝓮 𝓲𝓽'𝓼 𝓷𝓸𝓽 𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓵

𝓘𝓽 𝓼𝓮𝓮𝓶𝓼 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽 𝓘 𝓼𝓽𝓲𝓵𝓵 𝓱𝓪𝓿𝓮 𝓪 𝓽𝓮𝓪𝓻 𝓽𝓸 𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓭

The Cat’s whiskers quivered. The wind has changed and it brought along a taste of magic. A spell has been used.

He hopped down from his spot on top of a high wall where he’d been lounging. His senses told him that Edwin had returned.

The bell jingled when a door was opened and then slammed shut. Fast footsteps made their way in a hurry. The Cat’s ear twitched. So he’d come back alone.

He picked up his pace into a trot and followed with his tail up. The cobblestone molded itself apart and shut behind Edwin, the streets splitting into multiple ways and curling into itself. The Underworld could become what the residents wanted, and what it was doing for Edwin was melting into a maze so dense no one could find him.

The Cat reached him a minute later. The alley was a dead end, pale light from the sky cut off by a tall wall, leaving a deep shadow behind. Edwin was pacing back and forth, his hands in tight fists by his sides.

Silently the Cat jumped up to sit atop a propped up coffin and elevated himself on Edwin’s level. He swung his tail once as an acknowledgment.

“He lied to me,” Edwin huffed. “He did not go to see his parents, he just left me there and walked away and when I followed, he- he-”

Edwin tugged at his hair in frustration, his whole body sharp, taunt lines. His restless hands didn’t know how to settle and he turned around again, his steps frantic.

A clicking of claws on stone and curious croak announced that Monty had finally found them as well. He hopped closer, but had to dive out of the way of Edwin’s upset stomps.

“Who is it?” The Cat asked.

“Crystal,” Edwin’s voice was strangled.

“How surprising,” the Cat drawled, voice dripping sarcasm. “Of course, it’s that messy psychic wannabe. The living can be so near-sighted.”

“He was never going to marry me,” Edwin said, his words loud and precise. “Why would he, when he has a living girl waiting for him?”

“He’s a fool. You deserve so much better, love. Don’t waste your emotions on someone like that,” the Cat yawned, rows of sharp teeth showing. “If he can’t see how amazing you are, it’s his loss, really.”

Edwin stopped, staring hard into the distance. His brows furrowed, but the tight press of his lips eased, parting helplessly.

The Cat knew that face. It was Edwin willing himself not to cry by sheer willpower alone.

“No,” he breathed. “Charles is… so good. Dare I say, the best person I’ve ever met. And that is why…”

That’s why it hurts twice as much. The Cat sighed. He’d known Edwin long enough to finish the quiet parts for him.

“That Charlie boy was suspicious from the start. I mean, who proposes out of the blue? No one knew you were even in there,” the Cat shrugged. His sleek black tail swished a long arc from side to side.

“I cannot figure out how he did it, but the truth is that he found me. If that doesn’t mean anything, it’s the cruelest joke from the universe,” Edwin said firmly.

The Cat rolled his eyes. The self-loathing rolling off of Edwin’s tongue made his skin crawl and fur standing on end.

“Look, some things are just not meant to be,” he said harshly.

“That doesn’t mean that you don’t matter.”

He hopped down and trotted over to Edwin, headbutting his leg. “Would you like to pet me? It’s the best remedy for upset feelings.”

Edwin stood still. The Cat rubbed his warm body on his legs, purring up a storm. He noticed the first salty drop that hit the pavement. Monty dared to approach again and snapped his beak, bobbing up and down for attention.

Neither of them got it. Edwin wiped his face furiously and whirled around, walking away. He tucked himself into a low alcove on the wall, back against it and legs up.

“Why would I ever think he could love me?!”

Edwin cried out. He scowled like the tears wetting his cheeks had somehow betrayed him. He dislocated his skeleton hand from the elbow and stared at it.

“No one could love me. I’m a rotting corpse!” He hissed, hurling the arm away in disgust.

“I’m a bloody, decaying body,” Edwin repeated. His voice was full of hatred but grief was glinting in his red-rimmed eyes.

Monty flapped his wings as he skipped where Edwin’s rejected arm lay abandoned. He pinched his beak around a distal phalanx and started to slowly drag it back towards him.

“What does that matter? Living is just a temporary state,” the Cat pointed out, watching him from afar. “That boy is terribly dumb to think the girl is a better choice, when she’ll be flesh and bones as well in no time.”

“That is the point!” Edwin pierced the Cat with a furious look. “He did not choose her over me, because there was never me. I was never real to him. Whatever we did, whatever we had, he can brush it all off because it never happened.”

The way he gasped was almost a sob. He tilted his chin up, all the anger gone, leaving him raw and broken. His upturned gaze betrayed the thought that was at the back of his throat, hurting, consuming him with misery.

It was real to me.

The Cat knew. He’d seen it on Edwin’s face last night. For seventy years he’d waited and waited for that moment when Charles would find him. And then he did. And Edwin, tired and lonely and lovesick, just let it all go.

Against any better judgment, he had let himself love and believe in it.

It was written all over his face, the silent awe and fervent adoration. He’d never looked at Cat or anyone else like he looked at Charles that night. For a bright, brilliant moment right there he’d trusted, truly, deeply, even if it was foolish.

That Charles would choose him. That Charles would finally be the one who could love him.

The Cat walked over to Edwin and pushed his head under his arm, forcing himself on his lap. Edwin gave in without a fight and just let his hand rest on top of soft fur. The Cat pressed his forehead against Edwin’s rib cage, where his dead heart was enclosed, unbeating yet still able to hope, love and be broken.

“Please, won’t you just go? I want to be alone,” Edwin whispered.

“Of course, dove. But I’d prefer it if you didn’t brood all alone here, out in the cold,” the Cat said.

“I can’t feel cold,” Edwin reminded tiredly. He was staring straight ahead, eyes glossed over.

Monty hopped closer, having brought his arm back. He tilted his head, worried as well, then flapped his wings twice. Edwin didn’t look at him when he mechanically reached for his arm and slotted it back into its joint.

Monty let out a soft caw and nudged his hand once with his smooth beak.

The alcove had a small fountain mounted on the wall in the shape of a skull, water trickling out of its mouth. Above it, an oval copper mirror gave off a faint gleam. Edwin stood up and put his good hand over the cool metal.

“I’m finding the study now,” he said quietly.

The surface under his fingertips rippled like quicksilver. At the end of the road, where he was staring at, the stones in a wall arranged themselves out of the way, uncovering a dark wooden door. It was carved with intricate decorations, topped with a round brass doorknob.

“I’ll see you later,” the Cat called after Edwin and watched as he walked away, sealing himself inside his office.

[blackcrystalbride]

The Black Crystal Bride [66-67]

Gramorr invites you to a Canterlot Wedding!

Previous

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First

Read The Black Crystal Bride on ComicFury! Also available on Webtoons!

[izaizdead]

🩸 welcome to my blog 🩸

🩸hi welcome to my page my name is isabela but I go by isa🩸

🩸15 🩸

🩸hispanic🩸

🩸alt🩸

🩸 music genres i listen to: nu metal, death metal, alternative rock, goth, indie, hyperpop, etc 🩸

🩸fav artists/bands: lana del rey, mazzy star, cigarettes after sex, chase atlantic, radiohead, hole, nirvana, kittie, jack off jill, koRn, slipknot, my chemical romance, pierce the veil, the cure, type o negative, cannibal corpse 🩸

🩸hobbies: reading, journaling, drawing, listening to music, playing my instrument, shopping, collecting vinyls/cds, etc. 🩸

🩸i love: trad goth makeup, y2k fashion, baggy jeans, flared jeans, scene fashion, kandi bracelets, fishnets, eyeliner, mascara, lip gloss, converse, black nail polish, dyed hair, leopard print, piercings, tattoos, guitars, skateboards, crystals, the moon, rainy weather, cats, snakes 🩸

🩸 fav movies: jennifer’s body, girl interrupted, i tonya, black swan, ginger snaps, the virgin suicides, the craft, thirteen, fight club, twilight, coraline, corpse bride, scream, bride of chucky, saw 🩸

🩸fav shows: the end of the f***ing world, euphoria, i am not okay with this, mtv downtown, daria 🩸

[passionateseadruid]

Snake King’s Bride 8

Holiday havoc part 2

Notes:

Warning! This chapter has talk of sensitive topics such as very dubious consent! Read at your own risk!

You felt… numb.

Why did it have to happen this way. Here you were laying in the aftermath of last night, laying in a pool of your own tears. Claw marks littered the headboard. His scent engulfed you. And after everything he’d left you to deal with the aftermath on your own.

"What's the point of any of this? Why don't we just go down to Vegas and fucking elope? He's already ruined my life. He's taken my best friend and family away from me. And now… now he's taken the one thing I had left."

"Ma'am?" A voice came from the open door. It was Styx, they looked concerned, and very very nervous.

"Styx!" You pulled the cover up to your neck. They sighed and walked into the closet and after a few seconds they walked out with a huge robe. They gently sit next to you and pulled the robe around you. "You don't have to." You insisted.

"Please don't make this difficult ma'am."

"You really shouldn't. I'm sure Lucifer doesn't pay you nearly enough to deal with his bullshit." You smiled half joking, at least trying to make yourself feel better.

"He doesn't pay me at all." They mumbled turning towards the door, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

"What?"

"It's... complicated. I can't work anywhere else. So in exchange for eternal service he gifts me the comfiest clothes and feeds me the finest foods and keeps a very expensive roof over my head." They explained.

"More like an unpayable debt over your head." You mumbled and scoffed it off.

"His highness has asked that I accompany you to the shopping center today to pick out presents for his party next week. The gift from Mr. Fizzarolli came in last night. I'm a bit confused why it was already wrapped inside but I'll not push it." Styx bowed and lead you into the closet.

"Thanks. Hey do you know who I have to get gifts for? I assume I have to get one for Charlie. Should I get one for Renesme and Nina? Do I get one for you?"

"You have one for Lucifer. You'll need one for Princess Charlie, each of the other 6 deadly sins, you'll probably want one for Mr. Fizzarolli, Miss Bee's boyfriend will not be joining us this year, and the rest of the sins do not have dates for the evening. It should just be you and Mr. Fizzarolli."

"Alright! Let's get going!" You walked out of the closet. You dressed in a black jumper and a dark gray and light gray striped shirt underneath.

Styx took your hand and they grabbed their necklace. A portal opened before you and you two stepped through and into a desolate corner of the mall.

"Wow." You smiled at them excitedly. 

"Yeah um, His- his majesty gave me a magic crystal to teleport around Hell."

"Speaking of Lucifer how long have you been working for him."

"Oh goodness. Since Princess Charlie was young. I was practically the one who raised her. Lilith was to busy singing and flirting and fighting with His Highness. She'd insist that the princess shouldn't be around him because he's self destructive but she wouldn't put in the work to raise her daughter."

"So... speaking of Lilith. She is or was human right?"

"Correct."

"So Charlie is half human. Did she..."

Styx seemed to pick up on what you were trying to ask. "Princess Charlie was a menace during her adolescent years. She threw a box of feminine products at her father. Then she started going out with the son of her fathers former closest friend to spite him. She also went through the emo phase after the two of them broke up." They laughed.

You smiled at them. "It's nice to see you so emotional for once instead of so stoic."

You two walked around the mall trying to find things for your friends (and the other people you were obligated to buy gifts for). First you went to a jewelry store and bought pink and purple ‘hers and hers’ flower necklaces for Renesme and Nina. You may not know them all that well but you do know that the two of them love each other. You ended up getting some rose gold designer sunglasses for Fizz. Nina walked around getting gifts for the other sins for you. You didn't care what Styx got for the Sins. You were more focused on what to get for Pluto and Styx. You decided to play it safe and Pluto a paper $100 gift card to any store in hell. If it’s not clear you’re just giving her a 100 bucks.

"Hey Styx since we're here what would you like."

"Oh! Ma'am, you don't have to get me anything."

"Please? I really want to get you something as a way to thank you for all the nice work you do."

"Ma'am that's… really not necessary." They stared at you as you gave them the puppy dog eyes. "Fine, if you don't mind I'd really like some knitting needles and yarn. I could make you something in return." They smiled.

"Styx…" you put your hands on their shoulders. "I'm not Lucifer. This isn't a transactional thing. Do whatever you want with them but please remember that this is your gift not mine." You gently smiled and took their hand.

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As the party started and guests started to poor in you smoothed out your dress. It was mainly white but it cinched up in places around the skirt to show of the red petticoat underneath. The bodice was a Queen Anne neckline and there was some red accents on the sleeves.

First to show was unsurprisingly Satan as he was the closest Sin to the pride ring and to the King of Hell in general. Then surprisingly Ozzie and Fizz showed up next. After that Bee dragged Belphy through the door, her legs under Bee’s arms, kinda like sadness and Joy from Inside Out. And then Mammon showed up. And finally Levi made a grand entrance.

"Okay everyone is here, I'm going to go get some food." Before you could listen to Lucifer’s protests you had rushed to the living room where the reception was being held. As you looked through the snack bar you felt someone bump into you someone tall.

"Sorry." Your eyes went wide. There is only one person who'd apologize in hell. You turned around and say Charlie smiling at you. "Hey! I didn't see you in the Foyer. Dad said you ran off to get a snack. Merry Sinsmas." She walked away.

You weren't expecting Charlie to be at the party.

"This is bad." You froze.

"Hm? what do you mean?" Fizz asked. You could hardly understand him with the fudge he was stuffing into his mouth though.

You pulled him away from the living and into the butlers pantry. You let him go and slammed the door to get some privacy and started to rub the anxiety out of your temples.

"Woah! Hey! Look you're cute but I don't swing that way."

"Please for one second could we not joke about this. I'm less than 30 minutes away from dying at the hands of my Naughter." You whisper yelled. Moving from your temples to the crick in your neck. You could feel your pulse beating irregularly.

"What?"

"My Naughter. Because she's Not my Daughter."

"Yet." He shoved the last bit of fudge from his plate into his mouth. "While I'm in here you don't mind if I raid your guys chip stash do you?"

"Go ahead. It's his anyway. I don't care what you do with it." You leaned forward onto one of the bottom cabinets. He stretched his robotic arms up and sifted through the upper cabinets.

"They might not be yours yet but after tonight they probably will be. Tonight is the night that Charlie will finally come to see you as a new parental figure. Either that or she'll straight up kill you for disrespecting her dad." You felt your pulse pick up as sweat dripped down your neck. You wanted to run, wanted to scream, wanted to cry. "Mmh mmh! These are delicious! Sorry, Mammon doesn't let me snack even when I'm off his dime. Ozzie on the other hand practically mother birds food down my throat."

"Have your fill. At least one of the last things I'll see is my friend being truly happy. Doing what he wants to do."

Fizz stopped munching down the chips and looked you in the eyes. "Listen. The little princess might be upset but she's known for being the sweetest most forgiving being in Hell. I'm sure if you just explained to her that he kidnapped you-."

"And kinda forced himself on me." You admitted, cutting Fizz off.

"He did what?" His eyes were like saucers.

"Well… kinda? I mean… it's complicated. We were at a party with my family and then I got mad at him because he was traumatizing my niece and nephews and then I wanted to break off this engagement and I thought maybe I could get away while I was on earth. Then he appeared through my fireplace and was absolutely ready to murder my family so I made a deal with him that if he didn't hurt my family he could do whatever he wanted to me."x

"Firstly, that explains what Ozzie meant when he said something off handedly about you and the king getting frisky. Secondly, Red that's blackmail. There is no black and white to this situation. There is a clear and present danger in your life." He squeezed your shoulders and used his contact name for you.

"Yeah and right now it's name is Charlie Morningstar. She's going to kill me."

"Look everything’s going to be fine. I'll talk to Ozzie after the party about seeing if you can stay with us for a while. I'm here for you, everything is going to be okay." Fizz hugged you. You found yourself falling into his warm embrace, and for the first time in hell… you cried. You wrapped your arms around his skinny body so tight it felt like he was going to pop. You were safe. If only for a moment.

////////////////////////////////////////

"Froggy! Where are you?" A voice called.

"Shit!" Fizz whispered in a sacred tone. "It's Ozzie. Dry your tears and stay in here okay?" Fizz opened the door right as Asmodeus was opening it from the other side. "Hi Oz."

"I thought you already came out of the closet?" Oz teased. "Hey lil hen!" He looked over to you, and took Fizz's hand.

"That's new." You remarked and followed behind them.

"Well female ducks are called Hens." Oz smiled at you.

…

"Oo! Looks like we're just in time for the end of the presents." Oz informed you both. They must've started early because you know that you and Fizz weren't in the pantry for half an hour.

"Aw. A wreath for the hotel! How thoughtful." Charlie smiled at your gift.

"Honey come here I want to hug you once I see what you got me."

"I'm good where I am." You said with a slight tremble in your voice. Charlie frowned and Furrowed her brow.

Lucifer opened the box and his face fell when he saw what it was. "You got me a white dildo, bedazzled with the words go fuck yourself written on it." And Go Fuck Yourself is in all capital letters too.

"Yep." You felt like you were going to pass out.

"That's disgusting." Charlie glared at you.

"To be fair I was going to get him a single sock instead but I couldn’t find anywhere that sold one sock and I didn't want to throw away money and throw away a sock."

"Can you please have a little more class than that? You're going to be the queen of Hell soon."

"Oh yes because if Hell's known for anything it's there upstanding citizens."

"Those are my people!"

"No, they're not! Your people are currently being treated like chew toys for the amusement of the rich. Your people are being abused and unfairly paid, sometimes not even being paid, while you and your father are profiting from their pain. Your people are the Imps and the Hellhound, and all the other Hellborn. Why is it that everyone in this room out ranks me in terms or raw power and/or social status and yet, I'm the only one who has actually done something for the Imps. So I restate what's on this dildo here. Both of you can go FUCK yourselves! After all the pain I’ve been through for the past 4 months, I’ve had enough! Good night and I hope you have a Merry Fucking Sinsmas!"

[thatdeathwitch]

About King Hades (Haides)

Haides is the god of the dead and King of the Underworld. Even if He rules over the dead he is not death itself, that would be Thanatos as he is the god of non-violent death or gentle death. King Haides also presides over funeral rites and defends the right of the dead to due burial. Because of that and He’s connotations the the earth, he is also considered as the god of the hidden wealth of the earth, from the fertile soil with nourished the seed-grain, to the mined wealth of gold, silver and other metals.

King Haides is the son of Kronos, god of time and the King of the Titanes and Rhea, the Titaness mother of the gods and goddess of female fertility, motherhood and generation*. In the myths, Haides desired a bride and when He asked one to King Zeus, He offered Persephone to Him.

Symbols and Correspondences:

- Main symbol: Royal sceptre, cornucopia, keys, Kerberos

- Sacred plants/trees: Asphodel, mint, white poplar, cypress

- Colours: Black, maroon colours, white, earth colours (mostly greens and browns)

- Animals: Dogs, Screech-owl

- Crystals: Black tourmaline, black onyx, black obsidian, jade

Devotional acts:

Offerings ideas: flowers or herbs associated with him, skulls, pomegranate, art of Himself and things He’s associated with, candles, feathers, crystals, incenses (myrrh, franckincens, mint), milk, honey, red wine, black coffee.

Devotional acts: visit graveyards, honour the dead, meditate with Him, read His myths, write Him letters or notes, sing, dance, take walks on nature, appreciate the changes that the seasons bring us, wear jewellery on His honor, honouring Persephone.

Recommended readings for a better understanding:

- Hesiod, Theogony. It describes the entire cosmology and creation of the gods, including the birth of Haides.

- Homeric hymn to Demeter. It describes the rape of Persephone. It’s probably one of His most known episodes. It also describes the division of the cosmos between Haides, Zeus and Poseidon.

- Plato, Gorgias. Specifically 523a as it also describes the appointment of the judges of the dead and the division of the cosmos.

- Plato, Republic. Specifically 10.614–10.621 as it explains the myth of Er. This myth describes the path of the dead in the afterlife.

[tisamustdie]

Intro post!! (๑°ㅁ°๑)‼✧

Hiii! My name's Tisa, I'm 16 and I'm from Serbia! (๑'ᴗ')ゞ

I love listening to music, baking, walking, writing and reading! I've been trying to get back into painting and drawing but I always forget to practice ☆(ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*

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My favourite school subjects are literature, psychology and art. I'd love to work as a therapist (even though my passion is writing) (^_^♪)

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Some music I like are bands like My Chemical Romance (literally every single post here is about MCR), Pierce the Veil, Sleeping With Sirens, old Panic! At the Disco, Fall Out Boy, Kittie, Jack Off Jill, Hole, Frank Iero's solo work, Gerard Way's solo work, The Used, Fit For Rivals, Die So Fluid, Black Veil Brides, Flyleaf, Green Day and a LOT more ꉂ(ˊᗜˋ*)♡

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My (current) favourite song is Sleep or The Foundations of Decay by MCR (let's ignore the fact that I have a dozen more favourite songs by MCR) or ".stitches." by Frank Iero, and my favorite album of all time is Three Cheers for Sweet Revenge or Stomachaches! ٩( ᐛ )و

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Other things I like are Sally Face (I've been obsessed with it since 6th grade), Dan and Phil, literature, a random poet from my hometown, beef soup, cheap super sweet perfumes, my room, super long video essays, Edgar Allan Poe, comics (I haven't read many, I'm really trying to get into them more) snails, my headphones and backup wired earbuds, baking cookies, pins and badges, stupid socks, band shirts and romanticism in art and literature! (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

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My pronouns are she/they, I'm bi (⁠＠⁠_⁠＠⁠;⁠)

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I hate math and anything to do with it, Val Velocity (this is a Val Velocity hate blog people), getting up early and Thomas Pynchon (I've read one book of his for an extracurricular literature class, hated it and I've been vocally hating him since then, even though I haven't read anything else by him) ︵⁠ヽ⁠(⁠`⁠Д⁠´⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠︵

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I'm super shy and won't approach anyone, be it irl or online, so if anyone by any miraculous chance wants to be my friend please text first (∩´﹏`∩)

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I'm an INFP, and for my astrology baddies I'm a Sagittarius Sun, Sagittarius Moon and Cancer rising! I wanna get into astrology and crystals and all that but idk where to start lol ヘ⁠(⁠￣⁠ω⁠￣⁠ヘ⁠)

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And also!!! This is me (⁠ﾉﾟ⁠0ﾟ⁠)⁠ﾉ⁠

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(yeah, I put two songs because i simply CANNOT choose inbetween them)

(and my insta is @/krvavapesma ^_⁠^)

[dinosaurwithablog]

I just came across this photo of the goth wedding cake that I made for my son and his bride. It made me happy to see it so I thought that I'd post it. They wanted a red cake with black accents. I added the blackberries and the crows and bats because I liked the way that they looked. The creepy hands coming out between the layers are bookmarks that I found online. I used isomalt to make the crystal like formations. I was having a great time making this cake, but it needed a little something else. That's when I added the feathers. The inside of this cake was tie dyed red, purple, and black, with red frosting and raspberries in between the layers. Everything was edible except the feathers and the creepy hands. It was delicious 😋 I was very happy with the way the cake came together. I had never made such an important cake before. It was fun to make. The happy couple loved the cake!! So did I!!! ❤️❤️👰🤵‍♂️❤️❤️