#but all the hard to reach be human feet regions

[norsesuggestions]

Even more meadow!

My muncipitality keeps up with their "turning lawn into meadows" project

(and also a related, but less work intense project of just letting the lawn grow longer before cutting it)

Pictured above, the lawn in the previously short cut park. It is fun to see how all the flowers one can see the short versions of in the cut lawn, looks when they have grown up

[naisilla]

Summary: You get curious as to if Aatrox has a cock

Pairing: Aatrox x Feminine Reader

Warning: NSFW, Unedited, Slight non-con.

No context to the relationship so for simplicity sake I'll make it the Summoner AU.

Aatrox’s size would cast a shadow wherever he was, he was a mountain, a stature of muscle that roiled under red leathery skin. He was a sight to behold as a god-like warrior, and you often found your eyes wandering over his form. He was once a human, even after ascending and then being corrupted into the darkin he is now, he still kept an anthropoid form. So does that mean he still had a…

You’re eyes once again fall back onto the pelvic region of the darkin noting how his v line leading to his groin was sharp like an ironed edge. Aatrox wore no clothes, such an unkillable gladiator did not require cloth to protect his vessel. He stood completely bare yet barely looked nude as his groin was flat. Nothing is exposed and in need of censoring. So what? did his dick just evaporate? Seemingly it must’ve, right?

Lost in thought you found your heart sinking once you realised the Darkin had noticed you staring. His glowing red eyes harshly glared down upon you. “My eyes are up here mortal” his gruff and guttural voice barked making you shake where you stood. You could feel your chest cave in on itself as the giant marched over towards your tiny cowering form. The darkin leaned over you, his lips curled back into a sneer “What is it that you want mortal your ogling agitates me”. You can feel your cheeks shamefully heat up as you direct your gaze to the floor focusing on the armored talons that stand before your feet clicking at the floor impatiently. 

His demonic hand instantly grips your jaw as his claws force you to look directly up at him. “I am not foolish mortal I’ve lived through millennia and I know what such wandering eyes are thinking”. You feel the claws that scrape your jaw slide around to the back of your neck in a swift motion as he grabs a hold of the scruff of your top lifting you to his face, breathing a huff of hot air. “You lustful minx”. 

Aatrox drops you and you hit the ground with a thud the impact knocking the wind from your lungs. You roll over trying to recover from the hit but aren't given the chance as the darkin kneels over you trapping you between his legs. You stare up startled when you notice the sound of flesh being split in a wet tear and to your horror you spot a slit stretch open on his groin as something protrudes from within.

You weren’t sure what to expect, you could only imagine what the darkin could be packing but it wasn't as monstrous as the phallus that swelled above you. 

It was muscular, the base transitioning from dark to bright red at the tip with glowing veins that carried a current of pulsing light through the shaft. 

Tentatively you raised your arm in front of you and gawked when you concluded that its length matched that of your forearm. You glance up at Aatrox, trembling beneath him. His tongue clicked in annoyance at your inaction. “Well?” he prompted, angling his hips so that his cock prodded your face. 

You swallow down the lump in your throat and reach out to grasp the girth unsurpsrised that your fingers couldnt fully wrap around it leaving a couple of inches gap between your digits. Feeling compelled you try to stretch your lips over its head, feeling the sides of your mouth split with the strain. You can’t get it all the way in because of how large and swollen it is. You choke and gag on it anyway, tears pricking the sides of your eyes. Your soft hands grasp the shaft while you work the head with your tongue, your drool slicking down the length coaxing your fingers as they ran up and down the taut thickness.

Aatrox leers down as your tiny and frail body trys so hard to fit it in your throat despite it truly never fitting. He’s abnormally quiet when his large hands grip your head, forcefully sliding you along his cock creating hefty, sloppy sounds. You stare up at the Darkin with trembling nerves as he uses his cock to flatten your tongue along the floor of your mouth so he can fully stretch you out.

Thats when he begins to pick up the pace and ferocity now jamming his length down your throat and you gag, your hands fly to his hips as you desperately try to push yourself off of him and his advances. But its no use, you stood no chance against Aatrox and he was going to use your throat regardless of your need to breathe.

Your helpless body convulsed and retched at being violated so roughly as your gullet retched at what was only a tiny portion of his giant cock. Aatrox growled the rumbling of his voice frightening you at the beast you have awoken. He finally speaks again “tsk you’re taking too long. I am going to ruin your puny body mortal” Aatrox then grabs you, tearing away you clothes effortlessly and handles you with one of his massive hands away from his cock with a wet pop. A long slick thread of spit stretches away from it as he then maneuvers you and hovers you over his cock.

You gulp in trepidation a part of you wanted this but you still feared of how unprepared you were for this. You stare up at him bewildered “w-wait you're not going to prepare me first!?” Your voice quivered. As he prods his cocks head flush against your wet hole gripping the base of his dick as he tests your resistance to it. You whimper as he crushes the head hard against your entrance the force barely restraining from sliding it in. Aatrox pants ruggedly and a sick grin carves itself on his face. “You could never be prepared enough for this.” 

The Darkin then crams it in you, he rushes getting it inside of you as he could feel it growing even more when he marveled over how small your body looks like this against him. It's enough to break you and you let out a silent scream as you feel your hole crushing the darkin cock inside you. 

Aatrox grabs you by your hips and forces you to sink further and further onto his cock as he spears you with it making it fit nice and snug inside of you all the while it threatens to split you open.

You grab onto aatroxs arm to brace yourself as he continues to abuse your hole grunting and growling like a feral beast. His stamina is unending as you feel yourself lose track of time while aatrox uses you like a toy. The ferocity and guttural sounds he'd make were picking up louder and faster and you could feel him building up.

After a few more irregular sharp thrusts you could feel his cum flood in thick ropes. One load, two loads, three loads, four loads, the fifth load began to drip out while the darkin continued pumping more. You could only hang there speared onto his cock as cum dripped down you legs like melting cream. 

Your core now felt sore with blunt aching, Aatrox would grab you from under your arms and lift you off of him having to tug a little as his cock dragged on your overstimulated walls. He drops you to the ground again more softly compared to last time and towers over you once again pumping out the last of him cum to dribble onto your face as you stare up blankly and broken....

First smut ever, cant be bothered to edit atm. Not sure how to feel about this debut post but this is my account dedicated to much more dark and mature themes sooo...

[beebopurr]

Uh, this is pretty long. I hope you like it!

———-

The prior lighthouse keeper warned April of the storms that raged the region.

Impenetrable weaves of clouds enfolding the sky, freezing volleys that shot through bone, frenzied waters made into maws and mountains. The storms were the main reason the lighthouse was one of the few in America that still manned a keeper. Cursed things, she was told, born from a cursed anger.

But when April saw a blue light flash from the southern coast of the island, she moved.

Outside, the world was narrowed to a 10 ft. beam of a flashlight. Rain pelted April’s face, mottling her glasses. Her boots slapped into ankle high pools that swallowed the footpath. The wind hadn’t quite picked up though, thankfully.

As April made her way down the crest of the island to the shore, she looked out for the blue light. It never flashed.

When she finally reached the beach, April heard more than saw the crashing of the angry waves. She swept her flashlight across the water’s edge for any sign of a ship. The light didn’t look like it could’ve come from anything bigger than a fishing boat. She began traveling along the coast. The island was small enough for her to search the entire stretch even under limited vision.

There. Gripped onto the fringes of the beach was a form that could’ve barely qualified the size of a rowboat.

Oh god.

April rushed forward. Were they out in the storm in that thing? Or did they come from a bigger ship, maybe to get help? She needed to––

April stopped her tracks.

Her gaze was held by dark, forward facing eyes.

They were breathing heavily. The movement pulled tight against the fish nets that ensnared their entire figure. And it was a figure. Long limbs, vertical torso, and a head perched on wide shoulders.

They were scaled. Green with yellow stripes, as far as April could tell under the weak lighting. A giant blue shell, like a turtle’s, enveloped their back, and their chest looked made up of hard armor. On their face, two red crescents stretched through the eyes. They were missing an arm.

For eternal moments, all April and the creature did was stare.

———-

The keeper was going to run. She was breathing heavily, her face scared.

The nets weren’t heavy, but locked under her gaze they crushed Leo like a thousand stones. He felt his pulse match the beating of the rain. The keeper took a step back from him.

She stopped. Leo’s breath stopped with her. The keeper’s face did something complicated; lips thinned, a crease pinched between her brows, eyes shut. Leo couldn’t decipher it.

When she looked at him again, the keeper didn’t run.

Humans that didn’t run from the unknown were dangerous. Either they were stupid, crazy, or saw something to gain. But when Leo looked at her hard gaze, her hands were low and open.

She took a slow step toward him. Leo clenched the sharp rock hidden behind his back. His head was the closest to her, with the water lapping at his feet.

Leo could bare his teeth at the keeper. He knew their human resemblance were unnerving. Snapping at her might run her off; but it might also just stall her.

Leo couldn’t afford back-and-forth struggling. By now, his brothers were looking for him. Worried about why he didn’t come home during the storm. If they found him now, tied at the feet of the new lighthouse keeper, there’d be no world where they’d stay out of sight and unknown. It’d be Leo’s fault for being careless and getting caught in the fish nets.

The keeper took another step, and slowly put her free hand into a pocket. She pulled out what Leo recognized as a switchblade. She held the knife loosely, aimed towards the clouds.

If the keeper got closer, Leo wouldn’t be able to bash her head in quick enough if she lunged at his neck. It would’ve been a different story if he had two arms. The new lighthouse keeper looked small, but she was tough if she got to the coast through the storm on her own. Though, If she truly meant harm, then Leo shouldn’t do anything at all.

Him and his brothers couldn’t hide from her forever on this tiny island. If the keeper was dangerous, then it was better that was learned now with Leo alone, than with any of his brothers.

When the keeper took another step closer, Leo didn’t react.

Steadily, she made her way close enough to kneel next to him. She looked at Leo, his face, as if asking for permission. And maybe she was. Leo lowered his head back to the wet pebbles and bared his neck towards her.

She placed her flashlight on the ground, and with her free hand reached for the heaviest knots that coiled around Leo’s throat. She pulled a handful taut, creating a gap. Carefully, the blade was inserted under the netting, and, sharp edge facing herself, the keeper pulled.

A series of snaps cracked through the air, and Leo felt the netting around his shoulders go slack. He took a breath.

The keeper moved down his chest and methodically repeated the same motions, cutting with sharp side pointed towards herself. She did this twice more around his legs, and when Leo moved to pull the rest of the rope off him she stepped back. He finally got his feet under him.

The water lapped at Leo’s feet, he threw the netting away from it. The cove where him and his brothers lived was safe from flooding, holding old warm blankets they scavenged from sailors and the lighthouse.

One of his brothers was there, probably Mikey, as  ancillary to check if Leo got back on own. By now, Raph and Donnie would still be looking for him. Leo would need to spin a tale for them, something about getting a bit tied up and briefly having to take shelter. Keep them from worrying. He looked at the waves. For a second, he just stared.

Leo turned around. The keeper matched his gaze, looking at his face. And there was that peculiar expression again. Something softer than fear. Whatever it was, Leo believed it was sincere.

The keeper opened her mouth, it was hard to hear her through the storm and waves. “You got anywhere to go? Somewhere safe?”

Leo didn’t answer. He stared at her.

“I, uh, I don’t know how much you can understand me, but I’ve got a place at the lighthouse. You could stay with me.”

Unwittingly, Leo’s gaze drifted up towards the shining beacon of the lighthouse, its unwavering light revolving through the rain. He couldn’t remember the last time he took shelter there from a storm. But he remembered the warm scaleless hands, the rough voice that deepened during the dramatic parts of the bedtime story.

Leo looked back at the keeper. She wasn’t like him. 

She didn’t run away though. She cut the ropes off Leo. Her eyes were green, he just noticed.

The keeper mimicked Leo’s glance towards the lighthouse behind her and hesitantly pointed towards it, “Yeah, the lighthouse. You wanna come?”

When she began walking towards the footpath that was flooded with puddles, Leo followed her.

I AM NOT LITERATE ENOUGH TO PROPERLY EXPRESS JUST HOW FUCKING COOL THIS IS

I've re-read it multiple times already it's so good... you get it.

The way the only reasons he could think of for her not to run away are a. She's dumb, b. She's crazy, or c. She wants something from him, is driving me nuts you literally hit the nail on the head

[cupidlovemail]

( genshin impact ) xiao x reader

reader :: gender-neutral

genre :: fluff

word count :: 1.4k

warnings :: none!

characters :: xiao

details :: xiao takes you sightseeing around liyue (:

The entire expanse of Liyue stretches out beneath your feet, the ponds resembling puddles and the trees little more than dark dots in the night. The marsh stretched for what seemed like forever before it melted away into towering stone peaks and cliffs leading toward the neighbouring region of Mondstadt.

“Don’t fall.” 

You tilt your head back in greeting to the voice behind you. Xiao, appearing out of thin air like he normally does, approaches the railing on the balcony of Wangshu Inn and leans his back against it. The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a few moments. You look up at the stars twinkling above your head, forming so many constellations that you couldn’t dream of memorizing them all. A small flock of birds fly beneath your feet to remind you just how high up you really are. You finally break the quiet, letting out a sign that causes Xiao to dip his head towards you slightly.

“Do you ever wish you could fly, Xiao?”

He’s quiet for a moment, subtly adjusting his posture. He wondered if he should lie to you. This wasn’t the first time he had found you on the railing of the Inn, your legs over the edge and your head tipped up towards the sky. It wouldn’t hurt to indulge you in your interests and feign interest towards something you’re passionate about. You, however, would see right through him. He had tried before to alter his words to suit what you wanted to hear and each time you told him not to restrain himself.

“If I ask you something I want to know what you honestly think, not what you think will make me happy!” You had told him one night after insisting to make him dinner. He knew you had spent all day gathering ingredients and studying the recipe only for it to end up burning on the stove. Xiao had insisted on eating it anyway, claiming that quality was not a concern for an Adeptus. He was right, there were very few foods he enjoyed and none of them were necessary for his survival. Regardless, he had accepted your offer simply to make you happy. You lingered behind him as he began to eat, checking for any change in his facial expression.

“How is it?”

“It’s… good.” Xiao answered, not wanting to hurt your feelings. In reality, the dish was quite hard to chew and had a strong, bitter taste to it. He grit his teeth and tried to bear it, however, not one to cause a fuss. That was until he heard you stifling a laugh and turned to face you, your hand covering your mouth.

“If it's really that bad you don’t have to eat it!” You exclaim, picking the plate up off the table and preparing to discard it.

“No!” Xiao stood up before he even realized what he was doing, reaching one arm out towards you. “I’ll finish it.”

“Xiao, there’s no need to lie to me. If you don’t like something you should tell me, it wouldn’t hurt my feelings. I want your honest thoughts, please don’t tell me what you think I want to hear.”

He was stumped at this, from all of his time living amongst humans he had assumed he was doing the right thing. There were countless times he had seen mortals bite down their own feelings in order to compromise for their partners, something he tried to replicate when spending time with you. This outlook seemed much more reasonable, however, and he nodded his head.

Snapping back to the present, Xiao realized that you were now leaning back far enough to look at his face. He quickly turned away, feeling somewhat embarrassed that he had begun to reminisce about something so mundane. Very unfitting for an Adeptus, he thought.

“No. I’ve never considered it.” He answered honestly.

“I have. Isn’t it beautiful up here? Sometimes I wish I could stand on the highest peaks in Liyue and look down.” You sigh, shutting your eyes to daydream about the possibilities.

“I have an idea,” Xiao says after thinking for a second, a small smile on his face. “But you need to trust me.”

“Always.” You reach out to grab his hand and he helps you climb back over the railing. He leads you to the middle of the balcony, one arm wrapping around your waist while also never loosening his grip on your hand.

“Ready?” He asks and you nod. Your eyes flutter shut you feel the wind begin to pick up around you, blowing through your hair. It almost felt like you could be blown over at any time if it wasn’t for Xiao holding onto you. Your head began to pound, your ears were ringing, and you squeezed your eyes harder to try and stop them from watering. Just as your knees were about to buckle, all of your sensations disappeared as if they hadn’t been there at all.

You timidly open your eyes, revealing the thick clouds above the rocks at your feet. You let out a gasp and nearly stumble backwards, thankful again for Xiao holding onto you.

“Where are we?” You ask, your mouth falling open as you take in the sights. The world below you was so far away that you had to squint in order to make anything out. Birds flew below, their wings resembling shadows instead of feathers. You could almost make out rivers flowing into waterfalls, collecting into one large pond between the mountaintops.

“Qingyun Peak.” Xiao answers, “Is this high enough?”

“Xiao, this is incredible! You’re incredible!” You exclaim, throwing your arms around him as a thank you. Being so far from civilization made him comfortable enough to return the gesture, a small smile never leaving his lips. He watched as you spun around to take everything in. Your eyes were sparkling like the stars and your quiet murmurings filled the air. 

“Don’t get too close to the edge.” He said, stretching out his arm to continue holding your hand.

“I just want to look, don’t worry.”

“I always will.” Xiao nearly whispered, not wanting to interrupt your joy. While he sometimes struggled with adapting to human customs, one thing he wholeheartedly understood was the desire to make you happy. You could ask anything of him and he would do it. And now, watching you giddy with delight over the view from the mountain, he felt his heart beat faster than it had in his entire lifetime.

Maybe this was okay. He always tried to distance himself from people, promising to keep them safe from his karma. You were different, however. You never hesitated to be around him even when he acted cold. You never stopped inviting him places even when he brushed you off. You never stopped caring even when he tried to convince you it wasn’t worth it. Looking at you now, Xiao couldn’t be happier that someone was willing to do so much when he never originally reciprocated. He wanted to do everything he could to make it up for you. Even though it went against everything in his being he strived to be vulnerable with you. He wanted you to trust him - both with your protection and with your feelings.

He could see the tiredness in your eyes by the time you approached him again. It was well after midnight when he had found you at the Inn, no doubt waiting up for him as you normally did. Xiao would always tell you to go to sleep without him, he still had a job to do and hated making you wait. You would shake your head and smile at him, making up some excuse about how you couldn’t sleep until he was safe. He almost had to suppress the urge to roll his eyes the first time you said it. He thought you were just being cheesy, something he saw so many other mortal couples doing to try and express their feelings. It wasn’t until recently that he began to understand your words. When Xiao found himself acting recklessly, your voice would flash in his mind. He would put more care into his actions, never wanting to see the look on your face if he came back wounded. While mortals viewed death vastly differently than Adepti, Xiao now had a reason to fear it.

“Thank you so much, Xiao.” You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face into his shoulder and sighing. “I really appreciate everything you do for me.”

“Anytime.”

Anyone else hearing this response would assume that he was being cold, however you knew him better than that. You knew that he would truly do anything he could for you. You knew that he would protect you no matter the circumstances.

You knew he would always be there for you.

taglist :: @iamblushingatyou​ @chiisananingen​

please ask to be added/removed! thank you so much for the support (:

[imagine-darksiders]

Finding Inglenook

Chapter 1: An Unhappy Reuinion.

Darksiders: Abaddon X Reader

Tags: Enemies to friends, Unrequited crush, One-sided admiration, Post-resurrection, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Protective Abaddon, Explicit language, blood, injury, threat, combat.

----

As a rule of thumb, the back alleys of Haven City are a region that are best granted a wide berth, although, one could argue that the same principle could be said of any back alley. Even after Humanity's unexpected but much appreciated resurrection, the majority of humans still retain their relative distrust of the dark, narrow crevices that cut between the towering skyscrapers and winding streets of the city they died in.

As you meander slowly through the alleyways yourself one cold, winter evening at dusk, you begin to realise that the majority of humans are right to avoid these in-betweens, these through-roads.

Of all the potential shortcuts you could have explored on your way back to your newly-built home near Haven's outskirts, it would be your shoddy luck that you'd stumble upon a squalid and unscrupulous arcade that had – once upon a time – served as the side entrance to a bustling shopping centre. Now, however, there stands nothing more than a derelict thoroughfare for Haven's less than savoury residents.

Shards of glass from discarded bottles crunch under your shoes, the smell of booze saturates the air like a miasma, inescapable no matter which direction you face. The bad air is trapped down here between the buildings where the low sun rays can't reach, much in the same way you are.

“Oh, you've got to be kidding me,” you whine under your breath as you squeeze between a pair of staggering men, doing your utmost not to let your thick hoodie brush against their sweat-stained shirts.

They, like the other several dozen people that have formed a rambunctious crowd across the middle of the arcade, are far too busy whooping and jeering to notice you slip by.

With your head tipped towards the ground and your hood pulled low over your eyes, you can't see what they're hollering at, but from the sounds of grunting, snarling, and the telltale crash of knuckles striking against flesh, you'd bet your last rations you've walked right into a fighting ring.

It's the only likely source of such rowdy excitement. Hardly the kind of place where the 'Horsemen fraterniser' ought to be seen alone without one of the dreaded Four guarding your flank...

Swallowing back a nervous lump, you tug on your hoodie's drawstrings and duck your head, sidling your way through the crowd, desperate to escape to the other side where you'll be home free, provided you can find your way out of this maze of backroads.

Nose scrunched up to defend against the invasive smell of freshly-spilled vomit, you keep your gaze fixed unwaveringly on the sea of boots shuffling along the ground around you, picking your way carefully through them and trying not to think about how furious War would be if he were to ever find out you strayed away from the relative safety of the streets.

All of a sudden, you're torn from your worries by someone knocking into your shoulder, hard enough to send you stumbling sideways into another person before you manage to right yourself, thoroughly startled.

“Hey!” comes a slurred shout from behind you, nearly lost amongst the noise of the crowd.

'Oh no...'

Your heart shoots up to sit on your tongue when somebody – you suppose whoever you've just bumped into - grabs your shoulder and jerks you to a rough halt.

You don't dare turn around to see who has snagged you by the hoodie. The only thing plaguing your mind is the thought that you've been recognised, and now you're about to get a fist to the back of the head for any number of reasons.

As it turns out however, this altercation only seems to have come about thanks to your bungling feet, not your face.

“Watch where you're fucking going, bitch!” that same voice snarls, and before you can even attempt to simply pull yourself out of their grasp and carry on, you feel an unforgiving fist connect with your spine like a battering ram, knocking the wind right out of you as you start to fall.

Stunned, you lose your footing and topple forwards between another pair of strangers who leap aside to let you land jarringly on your hands and knees, feeling flesh tear open on the rough concrete beneath your palms.

Through gritted teeth, you exhale a slow, uneven breath instead of all the uncouth words you want to spit out onto the ground like venom.

You're really beginning to regret not turning around as soon as you stepped into this Creator-forsaken alley.

The crowd around you hardly seems to have noticed your stumble, still caterwauling as you draw your head up... only to find the path ahead of you unobstructed.

Seconds later, you realise why.

You've fallen at the edge of an open space, with the crowd itself forming a ring of people that serves as the threshold for a makeshift, fighting arena.

At its centre stand two figures.

The first and largest has their back to you, and they're the one that draws your attention, yet it isn't their size that holds your gaze, though that in itself is exponential.

No. It's the bedraggled and begrimed wings that dangle limply from the figure's spine, dragging along the ground near a pair of leather boots.

Your eyelids burst open in surprise.

It wouldn't take a scholar to know the creature at first glance.

But what the Hell would an Angel be doing in a place like this?

Your unspoken question is swiftly answered when your eyes drop to the second figure, flitting like a gnat from side to side in front of the angel's impressive bulk, fists raised and purpled with bruises.

You recognise her as well, by name if not by species.

Ivy Harris – Just another human, like you, but with a temper that's as perilous as her tongue. She lives at the end of your street, and she is not shy about her outspoken, visceral hatred of all the other species who have come to share the realm of Earth.

Some humans just... can't get past what was done to them during the End War.

Ivy is one such person.

You always guessed that she was a severely troubled young teen, especially given the trauma of waking up to find that her entire world had fallen apart around her, but to try and take on an angel in hand-to-hand combat?

She must be utterly and thoroughly mad.

Or at least, that's what you assume, until she darts forwards and the angel makes a sloppy strafe to the left, far too slow to avoid the curled fist that socks them squarely in the jaw. Their head snaps up towards the sky, and the crowd around you roars triumphantly at the stolen blow.

Rather than cheer alongside them, you can only stare in bafflement, incredulous than an angel would allow such a wild swing to land. They hadn't even raised their fists to defend themselves.

On hands and knees, you let your jaw hang ajar, gaping up at Ivy as she circles the angel, slowly drawing him around to face you.

Sweat drips from her brows and into her lashes, prompting a rapid shake of her head to clear her vision.

“Had enough yet? Huh? Pigeon?” She spits the insult alongside a globule of saliva near the angel's boots before wiping at her mouth with the back of a wrist. “You think you can just do what you did and get away with it? You fucking wank-splat! I'll cave your ugly skull in and turn it into a fucking plant pot!”

A charming girl, really.

You have to wonder what on Earth this angel did that could piss her off enough that she'd hurl such creative insults and threats his way. More pressingly than that however, you wonder whether you should tell Azrael about this.

Or, perhaps Usiel.

You know the commander is operating in the shipping district, and from the size of this new angel, they could very well be a member of his troop gone astray, if they're even here of their own free-will at all.

You've learned a lot about the theological and physical doctrine of angels, predominantly taught to you via an over-eager Azrael, or through the odd lecture from Jamaerah, the Scribe. One of the takeaways you got from such discussions is that an angel's wings are an extension of their very soul, something you only started paying attention to after you learned the fact.

Jamaerah seldom leaves his station at the Crystal Spire's extensive library, and as such, his wings never really grew from the vestigial state they were when he was a fledgling, many eons ago.

Azrael has always leaned more heavily on his magical abilities rather than take up a weapon in battle. And as a result, his sweeping wingspan grew large and wide over time, losing their bulk but gaining great length in his primary feathers, each of which boasts a soft, blue sigil that reflects his most frequented spells.

This angel however, the one slowly turning to keep Ivy in their sights, looks to have lost every trace of life in their wings at all. It's heart-breaking to look at, now that you're aware of how closely those wings are tied to an angel's health and well-being.

You couldn't fathom why any of the proud beings of Heaven would let their wings fall into such disrepair.

Thin, wispy feathers have been stained almost entirely brown by the unmistakable, rusty tint of long-dried blood, leaving just the barest glimpse of ebony to peek through in sparse intervals, and even that is an unusual coloration to see, far afield from the hue of a typical angel's feathers.

They wings are wide, and you imagine they must have once been very impressive, but now, you can actually see the glistening pink of tendons through the meagre feathers that have somehow managed to cling to the bone of the ulna.

“If only your blows struck half as deeply as your words,” the strange angel thrums in a gravelly voice that pricks your ears for a reason you can't quite wrap your head around, “Perhaps you might actually leave some lasting damage...”

Ivy's response is to thrust her hands into the air, both middle fingers lifted proudly towards the sky.

It would be the perfect opportunity for the angel to get in his own strike, and in fact, you actually wince on behalf of Ivy. But as the seconds pass and she returns to her fighting stance, you realise that the angel has just allowed that moment to pass them by... something unheard of for the strategically gifted species.

What the Hell is going on?

Sitting back on your haunches, you ignore the wayward foot that treads on the back of your calf and instead crane your neck to catch a glimpse of the angel's face as Ivy finally circles to stand in front of you. Perhaps if you can take away a defining feature or two, you could describe them to Usiel so that he can shed some light upon why they might be here, or how an angel might fall from grace to land in one of Haven City's seediest back alleys in the first place.

But it's at that moment that you finally lay eyes on the angel, and all thoughts of solving this mystery fly out of the proverbial window.

Once you look upon the face of what had only moments ago been obscured by Ivy's spry figure, any and all traces of pity or compassion that have gradually been swirling behind your ribcage promptly evaporate in the blink of an eye.

Sweeping in to take their place comes a rancid, bitter hatred and the foul chill of shock that twists your face into a horrified and open-mouthed expression, all within the span of a single second.

The face that looks back at you – or rather, back at Ivy – is one that you recognise, but also one that you'd hoped never to see again, not for the rest of your life, and well beyond that.

Everyone in the alley falls silent, though you're almost sure people are still hollering. It's the ringing in your ears that has drowned out any other noises surrounding you.

You want to throw up. You want to run. You want to call for War and hope the Horseman is somehow, miraculously within earshot.

You must have gasped, or made some kind of sound, though you don't hear yourself make it, because at that moment, a single, pale eye tears itself from Ivy and swivels down to land on your face. The other eye remains obscured behind an all too familiar plate of solid gold and onyx that serves as a circular patch, fused into the angel's skin but doing little to hide the scars that stretch halfway up his forehead.

You know from Death's many stories that there isn't an eye beneath that patch, just an empty hole that's as dark as the weapon which stole half of the angel's vision millions of years ago.

Your blood turns to ice in your veins as his remaining eye finally locks onto yours and grows wide, perfectly reflecting the same kind of shock you must be displaying on your own face.

Slowly, your mouth drops open of its own accord, and before you can realise what you're about to utter, you've already croaked the name of humanity's most hated angel.

“Abaddon?”

At this point, asking his name is entirely redundant. You'd recognise that face anywhere.

Abaddon – former leader of the Hellguard. Destroyer.

The very angel who owes his continued existence to you, and you alone.

You watch the recognition flash across the ex-General's face, and then you watch his mouth fall open and form the shape of a single word, spoken in a hushed, gravelly murmur, yet somehow it rings as loud as a thunder clap in your eardrums.

“Y/n?”

With the utterance of your name, the noise of the crowd comes surging back to you all at once, and with it, a sudden rush of adrenaline that kicks your brain into gear and sends you scrambling upright onto your feet.

You hear his voice – that awful voice – calling your name again, much louder this time, almost a shout that's half drowned out by the people around him, but you're already turning on your heel and shoving your way back through the ocean of people, this time being far less precious about who you bump into or blunder past.

Another call of your name, accompanied by boos and jeers from the crowd, who're more than likely upset that their evening's entertainment has been put on pause.

Someone elbows you in the ribs as you knock into them, yet you only give a muted grunt and twist your head over a shoulder whilst you run, feeling your heart lurch in alarm as you see Abaddon staring down at you from over the throng of humans.

He'd always been enormous, from what you recall, even when he wasn't trapped in the form of a fire-breathing dragon who attempted to swipe both you and War out of Ruin's saddle that fateful day so many months ago.

You're reminded of the angel's gargantuan stature now. While he's not quite the height or width of a maker, he certainly stands several feel taller than War, and at least two metres higher than your own head.

A thin line of blood trickles from the angel's nose, but that's all you catch a glimpse of before you burst through the back of the crowd and hurtle forwards into a dead sprint, your shoes kicking up stones and grit in your haste to retreat.

As suddenly as you arrived, you vanish back down the alley you'd only just ventured through, with the eyes of a ghost burning holes in the base of your skull.

[dapperdragon-ao3]

“...most adorable little space gremlin,” Spencer finished saying. He was exactly where Carlton had expected to find him: half-sitting on Juliet’s desk, wasting her time.

Well, not entirely. Somehow she’d mastered the skill of managing him while continuing to work. She chuckled now, hand still moving across a report.

Spencer looked up at Carlton with a grin. “And there he is now. Do you miss your people up in the mothership? Do you miss being able to take off that nasty human skin-”

“Spencer,” said Carlton, gesturing to the conference room. “A word.”

Then he set off walking and didn’t look back.

When he reached the conference room, he busied himself with closing the blinds while Spencer finally found his way in, closing the door behind him. Carlton pushed past him to close the blinds on the door as well.

Uneasily, Spencer joked, “What, finally decided to kill me? Odd place to do it, but if anyone can pull it off-”

“Spencer,” Carlton said, looming over him. He focused on the psychic, demanding full attention; he needed to say it, to get it over with. “I know that you...”

He felt... light. Restless. Laughter, careful lightheartedness edging around a deep insecurity. Damn it; alien sensations, echoes of movements, he was ‘reading’ Spencer. He couldn’t think straight.

“...you know I what?” Spencer asked uncomfortably in the silence, with a slight laugh.

Carlton felt an intense awareness, rapidity of thought, moments flashing in crystalline perfection. He felt break-ins, jokes, lies, an inability to keep still--a deep, profound love for Guster--

--and he didn’t feel any psychic powers.

Carlton stared at Spencer, who shuffled his feet. When he tried--although he didn’t know how he tried--Carlton could sense Spencer’s mind, intense and sharp, the way his thoughts flicked to Carlton’s reddish neck, to the shape of an Advil bottle bulging from his jacket pocket, to the way he stood--the way he had walked--favoring one side. Swiftly piecing together a small truth with a whip-sharp intellect that only came once a generation.

Spencer winced and held the side of his torso, the same side Carlton had favored. Then he pretended to look curious, and he said, “I can sense that you’re in a great deal of pain in the... this part... region.” He reached out to indicate Carlton’s bruises only to have his hands swatted away. He continued, in that infuriatingly calm sarcasm of his, “Might I help with some reiki? I know a particular method of soothing the aura by which-”

“You’re a fake,” Carlton said, disbelievingly.

It made sense, that’s the infuriating part. Spencer wasn’t a psychic, he was a brilliant child who had never needed to work hard a day in his life. He was exactly what he looked like he was: someone who had a copy of the cheat sheet and therefore never took anything seriously.

“No, no, these are scientifically proven methods of astral soothing.” LIE.

“I can’t believe this. After everything I- you’re a fake, like I was saying all along. You’re a genius, which means you can do literally anything you want to do, but you’re squandering it all just to mock those of us who have normal brains.”

Spencer sighed, as though Carlton had expressed something incredibly stupid. “I am a psychic, Lassie.” LIE. “I think the sooner you grow to accept-”

“You can’t lie to me anymore,” Carlton growled. “I don’t believe this. I can’t believe-” He stopped himself. Calmed his rage, stood up straight. “No. You know what? This is on me, really. I should have known better.” His laugh was dry and angry, teeth clenched. “I can’t believe I spent a single moment entertaining the faint possibility that you could ever be capable of helping me.”

He pushed Spencer out of the way--felt a sudden flood at the contact, concern, surprise, curiosity, fear--and left the conference room.

He should have realized that the existence of supernatural powers was not itself proof that Spencer had them. He should have known he’d been right to be skeptical. Spencer had eidetic memory, a rapidfire intellect, and a propensity for breaking-and-entering, not psychic powers.

Carlton was on his own.

[pokemonbiologyirlthetabletop]

Nidoran, Nidorina, Nidorino, Nidoqueen, & Nidoking

Nidoran♀ (#29) & Nidoran♂ (#30)

Nidorex infans feminae (Nidoran♀) Nidorex infans masculus (Nidoran♂)

General Information: Nidoran, the Poison Pin Pokémon. Nidoran are a small herbivorous species that are famous for their intense sexual dimorphism. This dimorphism impacts their base stats and their movepools.

Watch out, the horns on their heads are filled with a nasty venom!

The females are more sensitive to scent and changes in the weather, while males seem to have more acute hearing. This seems to be of benefit to each other as the different sexes specialize differently, allowing for the herd as a whole to better detect trouble.

The females average at 1’4 feet (0.4 M) and 15.4 pounds (7kg). The males average at 1’8 feet (0.5 M) and 19.8 pounds (9 kg).

Habitat: Nidoran can be found all over South Asia and the surrounding region, with a general preference for grassland habitats but not urban environments. They will live with their parents in their respective caves and large burrows until maturity.

Life Cycles: Nidorans are born every couple of years to litters of 2-4 calves to overly protective and doting parents. Nidorans rarely leave the security of their parents until they have evolved into Nidorina/Nidorino. Between both parents, there is a 75% first-year survival rate amongst Nidorans, with most deaths being a result of large predators like Ariados, random accidents, disease, and humans.

Nidorans are almost always too weak/young to reproduce in the wild, but even in captivity where they can reach higher levels, Nidorans seldom reproduce because of social reasons within the herd. Wild Nidos are typically at least three years old before they reproduce, at which point they are almost certainly at least a Nidorin@ if not a Nidoqueen/Nidoking.

Behavior: Nidos are hypersocial animals that form small to medium sized herds with each other. Nidorans in particular are playful and curious.  

Diet: Nidorans mostly eat berries, fruits, insects, and nuts.

Conservation: Threatened. While Nidos are broadly quite capable of fending off poachers, their real issue is habitat loss.

Relationship with Humans: Nidoran make infrequent starter Pokémon in the South Asian (and surrounding regions) world. They are reasonably docile, good to train, and when raised by humans from a young age are quite agreeable companions. Outside of South Asia though, it is incredibly unlikely that anyone has a Nidoran or their evolved forms outside of foreign breeding programs.

Nidorans are commonly depicted in media as the go-to analogy for mix-gender twins and romantic lovers. They can be seen on many valentine’s day cards and twin birthday cards!

Classification: Nidorans are classified in the genus Nidorex. They are in the same Family as Aggrons and Rhydons.

Note: While rhinoceros-ish in appearance, the Nidos are not true rhinos and do not fully substitute for them in their respective Asian ecosystems. Their similarities are superficial at best, and they may in fact live alongside true rhinos.

Nidorina (#31) & Nidorino (#32)

Nidorex medius feminae (Nidorina)

Nidorex medius masculus (Nidorino)

General Information: Nidorin@s are the evolved form of Nidoran.

Nidorinas average at 2’7 feet (0.8 M) and 44.1 pounds (20 kg). Nidorinos average at 2’11 (0.9 M) and 43 pounds (19.5 kg).

Habitat: Nidorin@s can be found in South Asia and its surrounding environment.

Life Cycles: Nidorin@s make excellent parents. Nidorinas will carefully chew leaves, grasses, berries, and nuts for their babies until they’re a fine pulp.

Nidorina/Nidorino will live upwards of 40 years in captivity. However, Nidorina experience breeding difficulties in captivity stemming from their nervous and anxious personalities. Because of this, many breeders resort to Dittos, though some have mastered the fine art and hard science of Nido breeding.

When Nidos are socially and developmentally ready to mate at around 3 years old, they will have headbutting contests to win over mates—and this goes both ways! Females participate in headbutting contests just as much as the males do! The winners of these contests (often more than 1 in large enough herds) will be the ones who mate that year.

Behavior: Nidorin@s are anxious and nervous creatures, though excellent parents. Mothers will chew food for their young, and fathers will aggressively protect their babies from harm. Nidorinos in particular are known for being finicky and temperamental, however this is only a problem with poor upbringing. In the wild they are finicky and temperamental because they have to survive, their anxiety is a benefit to them, but in captivity their anxiety becomes a hinderance to their ability to socialize and play well with others, so please treat your Nido with love, care, and compassion toward their anxious natures from the start!

Many Nidos will spend a significant amount of time searching for Moon Stones to evolve.

Diet: Fruits, berries, leaves, nuts, and sometimes cobras! Strangely, this doesn’t seem to pit them in competition with Yongooses too often.

Conservation: Threatened

Relationship with Humans: Nidorin@s are fairly standard sorts of Pokémon to have. They make great companions, many folks have them as their starter, and they’re incredibly gentle with children—and protective of them! Really, a Nidorina or Nidorino is a great choice to have in the household, so long as they are treated with the love and care that they deserve. In Eastern media, they are regularly part of the protagonist’s team line-up (or one of their other Evolutionary forms).

In the children’s cartoon Tuesdays with Turtwig, there is a friend Nidorino who has a lot of anxiety and finds himself headbutting things without thinking, and shenanigans and life lessons ensue as Turtwig helps his friend solve his problems.

Nidorin@s are known for eating cobras (or Ekans/Arbok), giving them another utility amongst human society.

Classification: Nidorin@ is believed to be diverging point between themselves and the Rhyhorn line.

Evolution: Evolve from Nidoran at level 16.

Nidoqueen (#33) & Nidoking (#34)

Nidorex nidorex feminae (Nidoqueen) Nidorex nidorex masculus (Nidoking)

General Information: Nidoqueens and Nidokings are both dangerous Pokémon that are incredibly protective of their young. Their claws can release a painful acid, and the spines on their backs inject venom—though the individual is capable of choosing when and if this venom is injected, especially around its children. Both are capable of immense destruction with their tails and claws.

Habitat: They live through South Asia and neighboring regions, but NOT in urban environments. They tend to live in “burrows” though these are more like caves.

Life Cycles: Contrary to popular belief, Nidoqueens can actually reproduce, they’re just super extremely finicky and captive breeding programs are practically rocket science just to get Nidoqueens to breed. So, most don’t. Because of this, most captive-breeding programs get newborns from Nidoking x Ditto pairings.

Nidoqueens and Nidokings are usually five or six (or older!) years old when they evolve. They do not engage with the headbutting contests of the Nidorin@s, instead they engage in their own courtship rituals with mates of their choice. In general, it’s the Nidokings competing for the affections of the Nidoqueens, but both regularly cross-mate with other Pokémon species, so it becomes more than competitions of strength, but also competitions of winning the individual over. Nidos are unique individuals who value different things! Romances are not all on the male’s efforts!

Nidos live for upwards of 40 years in captivity. They only mate every 2-4 years, depending on environmental circumstances and the individual.

Behavior: Wild (or poorly raised) Nidokings are known to go on rampages when protecting their herd or their territory. Nidoqueens tend to be more level-headed, and use this milder temperament to ease the aggression of their Nidoking counterparts. Both are gentle parents, who use their thick, diamond-hard armor to protect their offspring from threats.

Diet: Fruits, berries, branches, nuts, and snakes. They have also been known to hunt Ariadoses… whether it’s for sport or for eating, is hard to say.

Conservation: Threatened.

Relationship with Humans: Nidoqueens and Nidokings make excellent companions, though they do require a competent trainer to raise them well. They are quintessential “parents” in media, alongside a few others such as Leavanny, Kangaskhan, and Drampa.

In the wild, Nidokings and Nidoqueens are a terrifying presence to behold, and are the cause of death for many poachers and illegal loggers annually.

Many daycares and kindergartens in South Asia have a Nidoqueen or Nidoking amongst its Pokémon staff and inhabitants, very much because of their gentleness and protective natures. While potentially dangerous, they are no danger to the children, and there is little concern over their presence. Because they are starter Pokémon, they are a completely normal sight to see in amongst the general population. They are especially useful amongst the Rangers and Task Force members of South Asia, who value their dependability, strength, and ferocity when dealing with dangerous situations.

In Tuesdays with Turtwig, the Nidorino friend has two parents, Nidoqueen and Nidoking, who are seen occasionally.

Classification: It is unclear whether the Aggron or Rhyhorn lineages are more closely related, but both seem to have diverged within the last 6-8 million years.  

~~~~~~~~

Hey guess what, if you like my stuff, this is my website where you can find other Pokémon I've written on and more information about the game that I’m slowly making! Check it out! I write books sometimes too.

[doctorrex02]

Colorosaurus

With its curious appearance and distinctive dorsal sail, Colorosaurus (which means blushing reptile) is a small sauropod that inhabits the forest and the coastal regions of Eden. Measuring 1.9 meters tall (6.2 feet) from toes to head, and 3 meters long (9 feet), it’s quite small in comparison with some of its bigger relatives and an easy prey for most of the giant predators. To fight this, Colorosaurus moves around in enormous herds of dozens or, in some special cases, hundreds of individuals. They’ve also developed a primitive but effective system of communication. Their beaks can create potent click-like sounds, and depending on the force of the click produced and frequency on which they’re emitted they can communicate basic messages. Another tool that helps this species to communicate are their sails. Much like modern humans today with our cheeks, Colorosaurus’s sails are filled with blood vessels. If threatened, these animals can pump blood towards their sails, which then turn a bright red, signaling any other Colorosaurus about nearby danger.

Usually, Colorosaurus’s herds spend the day foraging on the forest floor for conifer hard fruits or digging up roots with their claws. Their strong beaks are specialized in biting on hard foods. If applied enough force, they’re even able to crack open the strongest coconut. This makes Colorosaurus especially important for the conifer forest ecosystem. Given their large numbers and ability to eat the hard fruits of the conifers (like pinecones), they’re the main seed distributor for these forests.

Although their strong beak wouldn’t have any trouble breaking bone or penetrating skin, Colorosaurus’s first response to danger is running away. If cornered, the animal’s last response is to start screaming on a high pitch note, which can become incredibly painful to hear, even to the Colorosaurus itself, it also pumps more blood towards their sail while moving erratically their whip like tail on every direction.

The Colorosaurus scream, however, doesn’t have a threat purpose, on the contrary, it’s an invitation to any other predator that can hear it. This scream can travel a long distance, and upon hearing it, carnivores in the area recognize the sound of a prey. If the Colorosaurus is lucky and manages to entertain its pursuers long enough, there’s a chance a bigger predator may show up and start a fight over the prey, giving the Colorosaurus a chance to escape.

The only creature able to counter this tactic is the elusive Kajinurus, which will encase the Colorosaurus in a thick cloud of fog that will avoid any sound exiting the area, so it can have a meal all to itself.

During the mating season, the herds will begin a long and dangerous migration towards a specific island near the eastern coast of Eden. Slowly, the herds will start to congregate and temporally fuse, until there are thousands upon thousands of Colorosaurus walking in the same direction, pretty much like modern wildebeest and zebras do. Usually, a lot of predators travel alongside the big herds, waiting for the opportunity to catch any unsuspecting individual.

Once they’ve reached the coastline and get close enough to the island, they begin the most difficult and dangerous part of their journey. They need to swim about 1.5 kilometers of sea water (1 mile approximately) to reach the island’s coast. It is at this point where the biggest threat towards the Colorosaurus appears. Like clock works, Aiguillesaurus, a kind of mosasaur, congregates near the coast in big numbers, waiting for its prey to get into the water. The Colorosaurus are left defenseless, only the fastest and luckiest swimmers manage to get to the island.

Despite being vulnerable to the mosasaurs, Colorosaurus have the numbers on their side, so, eventually, the predators will become full.

Once they’ve arrived to the island, males will began to compete with one another, showing off their sails, filling them with blood and screaming as loud as possible. The first one to back down loses, and the winner gets to mate.

Once they’ve mated, most of the Colorosaurus will remain on the island for as long as it can sustain them, after that, the females will lay their eggs on the ground, and then burry them, leaving them to fend for themselves. The large herds then swim back to the mainland in search of food.

As for the small ones, they hatch in synchrony with one another, much like modern sea turtles or crocodiles, these little creatures make squeaky like sounds to trigger a mass hatching event. With the only natural predators on the island being pterosaurs patrolling the beach, these younglings spend quite the peaceful life in the forest until it’s finally time for the next mating season. Juvenile Colorosaurus will exit the safety of the forest and join one of the great herds into the mainland, and the cycle will repeat itself every year, returning to the very same island where they were born. Sadly, very few of them will ever return here.

It is because of these species and their particular life cycle that this island receives its name, Isla Colorado.

[hopefulkidshark]

What would happen if a hippo bite you....

A hippos jaw has a 1800 PSI bite force. Hippos are capable of producing around 1,800 psi ( 8,100 Newtons) with their bite. In theory, they have a strong enough bite to snap a crocodile in half if needed. In comparison to other land animals, hippos have the strongest bite of them all.

Their bite is almost three times stronger than that of a lion. One bite from a hippo can possibly cut a human body in half. They're found naturally in various parts sub-Saharan Africa, particularly in East and Southern Africa, living in or near rivers and other water sources

There’s a good reason a fully grown hippopotamus can fit a large portion of a fully grown adult in its mouth. Hippos can grow up to 16.5 feet long (5 meters), 5.2 feet tall (1.6 meters) and weigh up to 4.5 tons (4 metric tonnes), according to National Geographic

They sport enormous mouths and can open their strong jaws to 150 degrees.

Their teeth might be the most frightening thing of all. Their molars are used for eating plants, but their sharp canines, which might reach 20 inches (51 centimeters), are for defense and fighting. Their bite is almost three times stronger than that of a lion. One bite from a hippo can possibly cut a human body in half.

They’re found naturally in various parts sub-Saharan Africa, particularly in East and Southern Africa, living in or near rivers and other water sources. (And they are an invasive species in Colombia thanks to escapees from drug lord Pablo Escobar’s menagerie).

Hippos are very territorial and might aggressively attack any animal encroaching on their territory, including hyenas, lions and crocodiles

Hippos and humans

They also kill people. That we know for sure. Many internet sources say around 500 a year, but an exact figure is still uncertain because some attacks and deaths come in very remote regions and don’t get reported.

How painful is a hippo bite? Are Hippos Dangerous? The size, temper and biteforce to kill … Hippos also have an incredible bite force of around 1800 pounds per square inch (PSI). This is almost three times that of a lion (650 PSI) and about 15 times the average human bite force of 126 PSI. In short, hippos bite really really hard.

What bites harder a hippo or crocodile?

Hippos have a very powerful bite at 1,800PSI. Their teeth are long and sharp, measuring up to 1.5ft. Crocodiles have the most powerful bite measured of any terrestrial creature, smashing down on enemies at 3,700PSI with 4-inch teeth. Crocodiles win in terms of bite power, but their teeth just don't measure up.Mar 7, 2023

ultraviolence

[landscapedesignfirm]

4 Varieties of Privet Invasive Species

Privet is a shrub brought to North America by European settlers around the mid-1800s, who planted them as ornamental plants. While many subspecies of privets exist, the 4 main ones found in Pennsylvania are Chinese privet, European privet, Japanese privet, and border privet. Over time, plant health care experts have identified these as privet invasive species. The damage caused by these plants includes crowding out native plants and reducing biodiversity.

Types of Privet Invasive Species

These 4 specific varieties of privet mentioned above have all been added to the Pennsylvania Department of Agriculture’s Noxious Weeds list. As such, these privet invasive species will no longer be available for purchase in nurseries and other flower shops, and homeowners are encouraged to replace any of these species on their properties with different plants. Here is what you need to know about these 4 species.

Chinese Privet

Chinese privet is native to China, Taiwan, and Vietnam. The fast-growing shrub can grow up to 15 feet in height, forming dense thickets. The leaves are around 1-3 inches long and glossy dark green, and the leaves appear early in spring before the white flowers appear in mid-to-late summer (June through August). The fruits are black drupes with hard shells containing one seed each. These ripen in the fall and persist on the plant throughout winter until removed by birds or other animals.

European Privet

European privet is native to central and southern Europe. This species, with glossy dark green leaves, can grow anywhere from 12-15 feet tall. In the spring, European privet produces white flowers, and in the fall, black fruits poisonous to humans. In addition, the flowers have a strong, pungent fragrance that many people find unpleasant.

Japanese Privet

Japanese privet is native to central and southern Japan. This species is an evergreen shrub, a small tree that can grow anywhere from 7-16 feet tall with a spread of 10-15 feet. The leaves are broad and glossy dark green above, with a paler glaucous to yellow-green color below, and have a thick, leathery texture. White flowers appear in the early summer followed by purple-black fruits in early winter.

Border Privet

The border privet is native to Japan, Korea, and northeastern China. Border privet is a deciduous shrub that grows to 9-10 feet tall with glossy leaves that can be 1/2 to 2 inches long. The white flowers appear in early summer, and black fruits follow in late summer or fall.

What Makes Privets an Invasive Species?

These species of privet are found throughout landscapes in Pennsylvania, but because the plant is not native to this region, privets have no natural predators or competitors. Due to this lack of natural predators, privets can more easily outcompete native vegetation for sunlight, nutrients, and water.

Privets reproduce sexually (by seeds) and asexually (by sprouting new shoots from their roots). This allows them to spread quickly through disturbed soil created by fires, forest clearings, erosion, or abandoned agricultural land.

Finally, privet trees proliferate quickly, often reaching maturity within five years after germination. Many other plants take 10-20 years before reaching maturity.

Damage Caused by Privets

The damage caused by privets is widespread in the United States. These species cause damage to landscapes and native ecosystems, preventing native plants from growing and reducing populations of pollinators such as butterflies and honeybees.

Treating & Managing Privets

Treating and managing privets is best done by professionals with specialized equipment.

Individual, small privets can be pulled by hand and can be done year-round. An important note is that roots must be removed entirely from the ground to prevent resprouting. Larger stems require specialized equipment that a plant health care expert can access.

Mowing can be an effective treatment and control method, but an herbicide application to the cut surfaces must follow. In addition, the time after cutting to apply herbicide changes based on whether the herbicide is oil- or water-based.

Foliar herbicide treatments are also highly effective for treating landscapes with privets, especially with low to moderate plant densities. These treatments are ideal during mid-May to early fall.

Basal bark treatments are effective against privets and can be applied throughout the year.

As always, these control and treatment options require specialized, extensive knowledge of plant health care techniques. So, call a plant health care expert if you need help with privets in your landscape.

Contact Burkholder PHC for Invasive Plant Treatment & Removal

These 4 varieties of privets are invasive species, and can overtake landscapes, with their dense thickets preventing native plant species from growing. To keep your landscape healthy and able to thrive, we recommend a professional evaluation to help remove and control any adverse effects. Our evaluation is free, and the proper treatments can help improve the health of your landscape. Contact Burkholder PHC today for a free consultation.

Blog is originally published at: https://www.burkholderphc.com/privet-invasive-species/

It is republished with the permission from the author.

[missionhimalayatrek]

Conquering the Apex: Island Peak Climbing Adventure

Nepal's Island Peak, also known as Imja Tse, stands as a majestic sentinel amidst the towering peaks of the Himalayas, beckoning climbers to its summit. Join us as we embark on an exhilarating journey to conquer the apex of Island Peak, where breathtaking views and unparalleled experiences await.

Chapter 1: The Ascent Begins Our journey commences in Kathmandu, where we gather our gear, meet our guides, and prepare for the adventure ahead. With excitement coursing through our veins, we embark on a scenic flight to Lukla, the gateway to the Everest region, where our trekking adventure begins. As we make our way through quaint Sherpa villages and lush rhododendron forests, the imposing silhouette of Island Peak looms ever closer, a testament to the challenge and adventure that awaits.

Chapter 2: Trekking to Base Camp As we trek deeper into the heart of the Himalayas, we traverse rocky terrain and high mountain passes, acclimatizing to the altitude and immersing ourselves in the stunning beauty of our surroundings. Along the way, we encounter friendly locals, who offer warm smiles and traditional hospitality and share stories of life in the mountains. With each step, the anticipation of reaching Island Peak's summit grows, driving us onward toward our goal.

Chapter 3: Summit Day The day we've been waiting for has arrived – summit day. With determination in our hearts and ice axes in hand, we set out from high camp in the pre-dawn hours, our breath visible in the crisp mountain air. As we navigate crevassed glaciers and icy slopes, our guides lead the way, ensuring our safety and providing encouragement every step of the way. As the sun rises over the horizon, painting the sky in hues of pink and gold, we inch closer to the summit, our spirits soaring with each passing moment. Finally, after hours of hard work and perseverance, we stand atop the summit of Island Peak, the world at our feet and the sky stretching out before us in all its majesty.

Chapter 4: Reflections and Celebrations As we descend from the summit, our hearts filled with a sense of accomplishment and awe, we take a moment to reflect on the journey that brought us here. From the challenges of the climb to the beauty of the landscapes we've encountered along the way, every moment has been a testament to the power of the human spirit and the majesty of the mountains. Back at base camp, we celebrate our achievements with laughter, hugs, and shared stories, knowing that the memories we've made will last a lifetime.

Conclusion: The Island Peak climbing adventure is more than just a physical challenge – it's a journey of self-discovery, camaraderie, and the triumph of the human spirit. As we bid farewell to the towering peaks of the Himalayas and make our way back to civilization, we carry with us the memories of our time on Island Peak, knowing that we've conquered the apex and reached new heights both literally and figuratively.

[sweetish-original-story]

Chapter 17

The sound of chopping and sizzling was almost as loud as the scent of the healthy, seedy breakfast Dulce was prepping for his baby birdy. He knew doing this every morning is spoiling the poor thing, but he just couldn't help but want to provide for the little thing. It certainly gave him some purpose the past few years, made him feel like he mattered to someone, at least. When he left home things were hard. He already looked different, and that already made things difficult. If not for the fact that one of his cousins already gifted him property to sell out of, and live in if need be, he'd have been in much worse circumstances than he had been.

The chopping grows louder and faster as he silently reminiscence on his circumstances. Bubo peeped at its mom in a concerned tone as it recognized the change in attitude. His mothers illness is affecting him again, and Bubo was prepping himself to fly onto his favorite perch, the safest place in the house, as to not get caught by the ricochet of his outburst.

Dulce was a good man. A hard worker. Detail oriented and strong. He had been shamed out of his home for not wanting to fulfill a role that was not meant for him, or for anyone with a brain. They tried to convince him it was for a greater purpose, tried to keep him I'll and dumb and small, so he would never grow curious. But he was curious. And clever. The chopping speeds up.

It wasn't fair. All those good souls he let crumble to dust. All that work, being fed lie after lie. He was told he was creating medicine for the war, to heal the scars their allies had created as a "necessary sacrifice" only to find out they were the ones helping create the very poison that doomed them.

And then, as a killing blow, he finds out his elders were praying for more. And yet it's HE who is punished?

There is a long silence as Bubo fluffs his feathers and prepares to take flight. The chopping resumes. All Dulce ever does is give love and light to the world like his Gods told him to and all his own people have ever done was use him and his family as tools for a purpose that was tainted by-

If Bubo hadn't dealt with this his whole life, he'd have been flattened by the hot frying pan that came flying out of nowhere. Beebirds are fast flyers after all, and nobody is quicker than him. He ziped up to the perch in the ceiling and healed his tiny little breath as his mom succumbed to his illness once again.

The walls shook with each hard blow to the concrete. The rock vaporized under Dulce's fist as he momentarily lost his sense of humanity, leaving piles of rock and dust and tiny treats that fell to the ground from the impact. From the outside, his neighbors patiently waited for his outburst to end. They all knew what he was going through, and though they didn't understand what went down, this oasis of angels knew the war was nothing but horror for his people, and it seems anyone in his region who survived the final day either went into hiding, dove into vices or turned into this.

Beasts. Beasts of burden, beasts of war, their very own undertakers. Howls and screams erupted from his home as the worst parts clawed deep into Dulce's mind. Into his skin. Into his lungs. He couldn't breathe. He couldn't move. He couldn't think. He was being attacked, but he couldn't find who was doing it to him. Shadows surrounded him in army uniforms. One particular shadow in the shape of his priestess slowly reached for his neck as the others held his feet and thighs in place. No. Not again. This is not happening again. He knows what to do.

Bubo closed his eyes as he watched his ill mother pick up the first attempt at breakfast, still burning in the flames, with his bare hands, allowing his arms to alight in a roaring flame. The fire has always protected him. If he had fire, he had power. He had strength. He had his family, his real family. Fire. Fire. Fire. Fire. Fire. Bubo had to stop this. Dulce lunged at the evil priestess, beating it into ashen pieces on the ground. Suddenly a loud screech filled his eardrums and knocked him out of his hallucination.

When Dulce came to, he noticed there were 17 new holes in his poor perfect kitchen, and

His brand new coat rack was in dismay. It would cost more to fix it than to get a new one. He can never have nice things. He also noticed he was on fire. He should probably handle that.

After dousing the flames in the sink and cleaning up his clumsy mess, he whistled to his baby boy to call him over. Bubo happily flew into his mom's hands as he was showered with apologies and kisses. When he was tiny it was scary, but luckily Bubo knows his mom would never EVER hurt him on purpose, and if he does, he gets to have berries and treats and fruit all day long until he gets fat and has to go to Doctor.

It's hard taking care of his big, bald, ugly mother, but he will find a cure no matter what. No matter what it takes. Bubo is the main character of this story, a hero, and even with the world on his shoulders he will never give up. He wasn't built for hardship but by Gods he will go the distance, and this nightmare will be nothing more than a memory.

Miles away, Sammy, a total side character who doesn't matter to the story in the least as much as Bubo, turns her treadmill onto maximum overdrive, while playing her favorite album from the platinum collection by Tiffany Arrows as loud as the speakers will play them. After five minutes, she also turns on the TV.

[vintageviewmaster]

Brand: View-Master Packet Title: Holland Booklet Title: Guidebook to Holland Booklet Subtitle: N/A Date: Undated

Booklet Introduction Description: HOLLAND Half the people of Holland dwell below the level of the sea. For almost ten centuries the sturdy Dutch have been creating their land--stealing it from the sea and the lakes and marshes. Although a small kingdom, Holland possesses great world ports and important trade centers. It is the land of tulips, dikes, and wooden shoes. Wide rivers and canals wind through green lowlands. Farms and pastures stretch for miles without a hill. Windmills, their giant cloth sails picking up every trace of breeze, guard the polders.

A FEW FACTS AND FIGURES The official name of Holland is Kingdom of the Netherlands. Netherlands means low country. The people call themselves Nederlanders, but are usually called the Dutch by the English-speaking countries. Holland is a constitutional and hereditary monarchy. The king or queen is the head of government, but the executive power is in the hands of the cabinet ministers. Queen Juliana is the reigning queen. The capital city is Amsterdam; the seat of the government is The Hague. Holland is the gateway to central Europe by the way of the Rhine River. It is the third largest shipbuilding country. The North Sea Canal is the deepest and widest canal in the world, and has the largest ocean locks. The 1,150-foot-long Prince Bernhard locks at Tiel has the world's largest inland locks. KLM (Royal Dutch Airlines), established in 1919, is the world's oldest operating airline. The chief industries of Holland are farming, manufacturing, mining, and fishing. The average farm is 25 acres.

GEOGRAPHICALLY SPEAKING Half of Holland is a single delta made from the silt of the Rhine, Maas, and Scheldt Rivers. These rivers have often shifted their channels. The Dutch have built many dams to keep them in their course. That is why so many of the cities, such as Amsterdam and Rotterdam end in "dam." Holland's area is constantly changing; the sea washing it away, the Dutch reclaiming it. It is an estimated 15,765 square miles; rivers, lakes, and canals make up one-fourth of this area. Several islands lie off the coast in the North Sea. Polders, land recovered from lake, sea, or swamp, cover most of western Holland. This flat region lies mostly below sea level, and is protected from inundation by dunes and dikes. A large part of the remainder is composed of sandy regions and rarely rises above 100 feet, except near the German border, where a few wooded hills reach an elevation of 1,057 feet.

THE HUMAN SIDE Holland, with more than 700 people per square mile, is one of the most densely populated nations on earth. According to the 1959 census the population was 11.3 million. Most of the Dutch are of Germanic origin. The language spoken is a modern version of the early Germanic people called Franks. The Dutch are an independent and democratic race; the fight for economic survival has made them hard-working and serious. They take special pride in their respectability, dignity, cleanliness, and homes. Although the traditional dress is still worn in a few places, most of the Dutch wear clothes similar to those in the United States. But the people in the country and in the fishing villages still wear klompen, or Dutch shoes.

IT ALL STARTED LONG AGO Julius Caesar invaded the region of Holland in 57 B.C. In turn, it was ruled by the Roman Empire, Franks, France, and Spain. The Dutch revolted against Spain in 1568, gaining their freedom in 1648. During the 1600's Holland became the shipping and commercial center of Europe, and Amsterdam was the Continent's leading financial city. Several overseas regions were conquered, the Dutch East India Company was founded, and Dutch colonists settled what is now New York. Napoleon invaded Holland in 1795, and again it belonged to France. After Napoleon's downfall, Holland, Belgium, and Luxembourg were united under King William I. Belgium declared her freedom in 1830, and Luxembourg in 1890, when 10-year-old Wilhelmina was made ruler. Wilhelmina was not crowned until 1898, when she was 18. Holland remained neutral during World War I. Germany invaded Holland in the early days of World War II, occupying it until 1945. Holland suffered two severe man-made floods during World War II. One by the Dutch in a futile defense against Germany; the other by the Germans in an unsuccessful attempt to stop the Allies. At the end of World War II, two-fifths of Holland's manufacturing plants lay in shambles, agriculture and trade were at a standstill. The hard-working Dutch rebuilt their country. Today the industrial output, farm production, and shipping fleet is greater than ever before.

[saratogaroadwrites]

For King and Country (94/122)

For King and Country | saratogaroad rating: T total wordcount:  280,466 characters: Evan Pettiwhisker Tildrum, Roland Crane, Aranella, Batu, Tani, Lofty, Leander Aristidies, Bracken Meadows relationships: Roland Crane & Evan Pettiwhisker Tildrum, Aranella & Evan Pettiwhisker Tildrum, Roland Crane & Aranella, Batu & Tani, Batu & Evan, Tani & Evan, Evan Pettiwhisker Tildrum & Lofty, Rolander other tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Canon-Typical Violence, Mother-Son Relationship, Father-Son Relationship, Place Slowly Becomes Home People Slowly Become Family, Found Family, For Want of A Nail warnings: none

Pulled from his world by mysterious powers, former president Roland Crane finds himself caught in the middle of a coup meant to take the life of the young King Evan Pettiwhisker Tildrum. Joining forces with Aranella, the pair of them set out to aid Evan in making his dream of a kingdom where everyone can live happily ever after a reality.

But the road to peace is a long and treacherous one and there is no promise of success in a world where darkness spreads ever thicker with each passing day. If they are to stand a chance, they must stand together, for king and for country.

(A retelling.)

=

Stilton was an unassuming man. Reed thin and average in height, with the familiar Dellian coloring that had been so common among the humans that called the region home, he was dressed warmly but understatedly. There were no bright colors, no oddities in his dress, nothing that would have drawn attention to him.

As spies went, that was a good skill to have. It was almost a shame his temperament threw the whole thing clean out the window.

“Thank you for coming, Stilton,” Evan said, lowering himself to sit on the couch across from the chair that Stilton had awkwardly claimed some moments earlier. Aranella shifted her weight on the balls of her heels as she stood guard behind her King, hands clasped just in front of her. Stilton eyed her, then quickly dropped his gaze. “I do apologize for calling you here on such short notice.”

“You needn’t apologize, your Majesty,” Stilton said with a tight smile that didn’t reach his eyes. He looked around the room once more, took in Batu and Leander and Tani watching him, and swallowed hard. His hands clenched tightly around the bandanna he held in his lap. “I am glad to serve my King in any way that he requires. What is it that you need, Sire?”

“Just to ask you a few questions, that’s all,” Evan replied, “But please, you needn’t be so formal with me. We’re all friends here.” He smiled. “Tea?”

Stilton blinked. He chanced a look up, as if looking for a trap, but found only Aranella instead. She raised an eyebrow at him and he quickly looked away. Somewhere behind her, Tani snorted but held her tongue. They had him surrounded. If he tried anything, well. They certainly had him under control. Lofty brushed against her ankles as he paced back and forth at her feet, out of Stilton’s sight.

“N-no, thank you, your Majesty.” Stilton adjusted his collar. “Questions?”

“Ah, yes. You see.” Evan leaned forward and began to prepare himself a mug of tea. Aranella’s eye twitched as he plunked two cubes of sugar too many into the porcelain mug. “It has been recently brought to my attention that people have been feeling as if they are being watching within the castle. Consul Aristides and I did some checking and felt much the same.” He glanced up. “You have been working in the castle for some time now, Stilton. Have you had these same feelings?”

“I. Perhaps?” Stilton swallowed hard, fingers twitching. Batu shifted from his guard position at the door, nodding as she caught his eye. He’d seen it too. “I…haven’t really felt anything out of the ordinary. Where have they been having these feelings, sire?”

“Around and about, mostly,” Evan replied, tail tip twitching. “We found these—” He sat back and pulled the old, withered husk of a Prying Eye out from the depths of his arms band. Aranella watched as Stilton swallowed so hard his Adam’s apple visibly bobbled. Nervous, was he? Good. “In some of the corridors. Consul Aristides tells me that they are a type of Scrying Magic known as a Prying Eye. Have you seen them before?”

“I. No, no. No, I have not and—” Stilton’s voice rose in pitch, cracking to the point that he had to clear his throat, adjusting his collar with a finger. “Pardon me. Bit of a frog in the throat.”

“Of course. This weather has been a bit much,” Evan smiled politely. “Are you sure you would not like some tea? It is a very soothing honey blend—quite sweet.” He leaned in as if sharing a secret. “I’m really rather fond of my sweets, you know.”

No one could hold out for long against Evan. A smile flickered across Stilton’s face.

“Perhaps just a cup. Thank you very much.”

“Of course.” Evan set the husk down on the table between them and busied his hands with preparing another mug of tea. “I hope you won’t find me too forward in asking this, Stilton, but are you alright?” He looked up through his fringe. “You seem a bit nervous.”

“O-oh,” Stilton startled, “No, no, your Majesty. I’m not nervous. Why would I be nervous?”

“Hmm…no reason,” Evan smiled gently, reaching for the tea pot. With steady hands, he poured one mug of tea and then the other, setting the pot down and reaching for his mug. “Well, perhaps there is one reason.” He sat back, shoulders straight and regal as he rested his mug in his lap. “Are you the one who has been placing the Prying Eyes around the castle, Stilton?”

The entire room went still, but no one was more still than Stilton. A burst of pride warmed Aranella’s heart as she watched the man go rigid, his smile looking as if it were about to splinter, his eyes darting from one head to the next. The trouble he was in dawned on him in a slow, spreading dread across his face. He stared at Evan, a bead of sweat slipping down his temple. They had him. They had him and he knew it!

When Evan had first come to her and asked for a chance to talk to Stilton, to hear what he had to say for himself before lashing out, she still hadn’t been convinced it was the best idea. An agent of Dell would never talk to them. Jack had sung like a canary in fear, but without that fear? Why would Stilton say anything at all.

But now, watching his face…she had to admit that Evan was right. He’d taken a page out of Roland’s book without even knowing it and been right.

Maybe there really was something to this merciful approach after all.

“I-I—begging your pardon, your Majesty, but I do not know what you are speaking of and—”

“Stilton, please.” Evan tilted his head. “You have been seen sneaking around in the corridors where the Prying Eyes have been found, and have been nervous ever since Minister Bracken asked about scrying magic. Please.” He leaned forward. “I am not angry with you, I promise. I just wish to understand what is going on! I cannot help my people if I do not know what is wrong.”

Stilton stared at Evan, eyes wide and mouth dropped open. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn’t this. Evan waited, and the only sign of his impatience was Lofty beginning to pace back and forth, out of sight by Aranella’s feet. Silence fell over the room before, finally, Stilton gave a shuddering exhale.

“I.” He looked from head to head. Aranella schooled her face into stern disapproval but didn’t have to look to know Batu was glaring. Stilton quickly looked down at his hands. “Yes. Yes, I set the Prying Eyes.”

A sigh rippled through the room.

“How many?” Leander asked. “And where?”

“All over,” Stilton replied. “Not in the baths, or the royal hall, but. Everywhere else. At least a hundred of them. Closer to two hundred.” His hands twisted the bandanna in his lap. “…I was ordered to do so.”

“By King Mausinger?”

“No. You—you don’t understand.” Stilton said, “I am loyal to my King, his humble servant! Had he ordered me to, of course I would have. But he did not, and Chancellor Vermine…”

He shuddered in spite of the crackling hearth behind him.

“Chancellor Vermine has done something?” Evan asked.

“He has done many things,” Stilton said, swallowing hard. “He is not a man you wish to cross. He told me you were a horrible, awful person, and I…well, one does not doubt the King’s right hand!” He twisted his bandanna. “But the longer I stayed here, the more I realized he was wrong, and I. You see, when he ordered me to come to Evermore, he.”

His hands were shaking. Evan reached over and pushed the mug of tea a little closer to him. Stilton nodded in thanks and took the mug. Aranella watched the tea ripple before he was able to get some hold on himself.

“He said that I was to keep watch over you, over any allies you made, and report back to him with all the information I could gather. He has been.” He took a sip of the tea. “I do not know what he has been doing with the information I have sent him. Forming plans, I suppose.”

“How have you been sending those reports?” Aranella asked, “There’s been no traffic between Evermore and Dell for months now!”

“There’s a two way scrying pool in my things,” he said, “Chan—” he choked on the title, “Vermine. He has the other side. Don’t know where he keeps his end.”

“You have experience with the magic, then?” Leander asked, “Scrying Pools require some training to use.”

Stilton nodded. “My mother was a Mage. She taught me everything I know. I don’t have much talent, but it’s. Well.” He looked into his tea. “It’s enough to get by.”

“And the Eyes?” Tani asked, “Where’d you get those?”

“Vermine gave me a couple,” he said, “but the rest I got from one of the Hydropolitan Mages,” Stilton said, causing Leander to hiss in surprise. “I told her I’d been tasked with security in the stockhouses, warding off any pirates out for a snack, and—well, she offered them.” He shrugged up to his ears. “Was really very nice about it.”

“Of course she was.” Leander sighed, chuckling ruefully. “She would have had no reason not to be.”

After all, Aranella thought, all the people within the Union had no reason to distrust one another. Evan sighed quietly and nodded.

“We will return them to her, then,” he said quietly, then said to Stilton in a gentle tone, “Thank you for telling me the truth, Stilton. Again, I am sorry to put you in such a position.”

“Your Majesty?”

Evan shook his head. He blew on the still steaming contents of his mug for a second and then said quietly, “You were doing what you were ordered by a man trusted by your King. The order may as well have come from King Mausinger himself, and to turn on him by explaining all of this to us…it cannot have been easy.” He lifted his head. “And it sounds to me as if you are perhaps a little afraid of the Chancellor as well.”

“I. Perhaps that is true, sire,” Stilton nodded. Aranella watched as the tension in his shoulders began to bleed away. Evan really did have a way with people. “Perhaps we should all be. He has the King’s utmost trust.” He said, “If Chancellor Vermine says something, King Mausinger will always listen. It is almost as if he has some…manner of control over the King.”

Aranella looked over and met Leander’s gaze. Some manner of control? Well now. That sounded awfully familiar. She turned back in time to see Stilton drain the rest of his tea.

“Well. I suppose that doesn’t matter now. Thank you for the tea, sire. I’ll report to the block now.”

Evan looked up again. “…What are you talking about? What block?”

“The. Chopping block, sire?” Stilton said, confused. “Off with my head and all that for a traitor to your kingdom?” When Evan drew back, Stilton seemed even more confused. “You mean…you aren’t going to kill me?”

“Of course not!” Evan exclaimed. Another burst of pride warmed Aranella’s heart better than any fire or cup of tea ever could have. “We do not do such things here, Stilton. I cannot say you will not be punished, but killed?” He shook his head vehemently. “Never!”

Stilton went limp with relief. Burying his head in his hands for a moment, he gave an odd, half-bow from where he sat. Propriety prickled at Aranella’s spine. She held still, watching as he managed to straighten up.

“Thank you, sire,” he breathed, “You are…truly a merciful King. Please—if there is.” He took a breath. “I realize how little this must mean from one willing to turn on his liege, but please. If there is anything I can do, ask.”

“For now?” Evan’s fingers tapped along his mug. “Act as you always have. Continue to send your reports to Chancellor Vermine. Give him no reason to suspect anything has changed.”

“…Sire?”

Evan shook his head. “It is a complicated matter, Stilton. I am sorry to put you through such a trial, but we cannot have either Chancellor Vermine or King Mausinger suspect anything is amiss. So please—go about your duties, and let us know if anything changes.”

“I.” Stilton blinked. “I…yes. Yes, sire, I shall. Thank you very much!”

With a gentle smile and a wave of his hand, Evan dismissed Stilton. He wobbled out of the room; two of Batu’s men headed after him as he made his way down the corridor, nodding to their Boss as Batu shut the door once Stilton was gone.

“Ye sure ‘bout this, lad?” He rumbled, “Mercy leaves the rat alive to turn ‘round and bite us again.”

“I’m certain,” Evan said, tapping his fingers along the mug. “He was so frightened, Batu. I could smell it. Chancellor Vermine terrifies him.”

“But why?” Tani asked, coming over and plunking herself down into a seat. She reached for one of the cookies on the tray with the tea. “What kind of guy is this Vermine anyway?”

“He always seemed the quiet, unassuming sort,” Aranella said pensively. Despite working in nearly the same circle their paths had so rarely crossed. She could hardly remember what he had done as Mausinger’s top aide at the time. He had terrified more than a few of the maids and servants, but she had never heard him yell. It was odd. She shook her head. “But I suppose it is always the quiet ones you have to be worried about. If Vermine is at the root of this, that changes things."

“Yes,” Evan agreed, plunking his chin into the palm of his hand. “Do you think it’s possible that he has some control over Mausinger somehow?” He looked over to Leander. “Some sort of Darkness, like Doloran perhaps?”

“Perhaps,” Leander agreed, walking over until he could cross his arms on the back of an armchair, leaning his chin onto his crossed wrists. “Though we should perhaps consider that this Chancellor Vermine is also corrupted.” He looked at Aranella and said, “How long has he been working with Mausinger?”

“Years,” Aranella said, letting Lofty bounce past her before she sat beside Evan. “He was there when I first became a Ward of the Crown. Why do you…”

Wait. She narrowed her eyes. He couldn’t mean…

“You don’t think that Vermine was corrupted years ago and has been slowly turning Mausinger as well, do you?”

Leander spread his hands. “We are all well aware that Doloran is capable of acting quite patiently. If, for some reason, he became unable to corrupt King Leonhard or his heir, he would have had find another way to claim Ding Dong Dell’s Kingsbond. Forcing the line of succession to change would be one such way. He need only find a way to achieve such things. A coup would certainly be effective.”

“And…doing it in such a ruthless manner would all but guarantee that at least half of Dell’s people would be unhappy with their new ruler.” Evan said quietly, staring into his tea. Heart aching for him, Aranella reached out and rubbed gentle circles on his back. He trembled under her palm. “Which would then make things so much easier for him whenever Mausinger did manage to get his Kingsbond.”

“Precisely.” Leander said, “Oakenhart would find him worthy if he overcame the trial, but their bond would never be as strong. Given enough time and reason, it would fray. And with what Stilton has just told us…” He sighed heavily and removed his glasses. “We must consider the likely possibility that Doloran will succeed whether or not we find a way to warn Mausinger of the threat.”

“Pah.” Batu huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. “Couldn’t happen to a better swab.” He snorted, reaching over and plucking a cookie off of the tray. He contemplated it for a moment, then snapped his treat in half. “Sounds to me like Doloran’s gotten too far ‘head of us. Ye still think we can stop ‘im, Evan lad?”

“I…” Evan stared into his half empty mug. “…I want to hope so, I truly do, but….” He sighed quietly. “…Perhaps it is time we start preparing for the worst. I just—” He set his mug down and sat back, arms crossed over his chest. “I just wish we had some way to know what was going on in there!”

“What about that scrying thingy that Stilton mentioned?” Tani asked, “Could we use that?”

“Scrying pools have a very limited range,” Leander said, “And two-way ones even more so. I doubt we would see more than the two feet directly above the other end if we simply used Stilton’s.” He opened his mouth, then stopped himself. Everyone, from Lofty to Batu, looked at him. Slowly he shook his head. “…But perhaps…”

“Leander?”

Leander shook himself. “This is but a theory, but perhaps Queen Nerea would be able to use that two-way scrying pool as a way to amplify a spell that would allow us to see into Dell. Tell me—” He looked between Aranella and Evan, “Does Dell have any still water? Wells, or fountains?”

“There’s two pools of the stuff in the throne room,” Aranella said, “Would that do?”

“Quite well.” He turned to Evan and smiled. “By your leave, your Majesty, I shall return by morning with news.”

“Of course,” Evan nodded, but Leander was gone before he could say anything else. He vanished in a whirl of magic and sea air, leaving Tani snickering around her cookie.

“Starting to think he’s more worried about Roland than you, Evan,” She said, a knowing gleam in her eye. “Maybe we should shove them in a room together when he gets back.”

A laugh rippled through the room, warm and good-natured in its teasing nature. Evan’s tail gave a happy little wave.

“Maybe we should!”

Aranella had to smile; tense as things were now, there was a note of hope in the air that even she could sense. It set her frayed nerves at ease.

Somehow, she could tell everything was going to be alright.

[darkeclipse22]

Angelmoor lies in a mountainous region, covered in both steep cliffs, rich woodland, and thick snow. They are a kingdom of many backgrounds, but all can trace it back to one moment in history. The discovery of the riches in the mountains and underground. 

Because of this discovery, the main export of Angelmoor is that of stone and minerals. They also have advanced power systems thanks to the large amounts of redstone under their feet.

However, due to their rocky home full of hollows and caves, they live in fear of monsters. As such, many have taken a lax vow of silence, knowing that too much noise draws the monsters to them faster….all except the Miners, why while they are seen as annoying, are asli respected for their lack of fear.

Agriculture and Livestock 

The geography of Anglemoor's region makes it hard to keep any large livestock, but in their sheltered area they manage to care for Cows, Chickens, Pigs, and Goats. All of these animals have been bred to survive their harsh environment, and flourish as companions and sources of food. Wolves and Draft horses also find their place as beasts of burden and friendship, their loyalty as strong as the north winds. Agriculture wise, they grow Rye and oats for both people and animals, root vegetables that are hardy to cold such as potatoes, carrots, onion, garlic, turnips and radishes, leafy greens such as cabbage and lettuce, and have managed to grow small beds of warm climate crops in the industrial district, such as tomatoes, peppers, and certain berries. Greenhouse's manage to grow Coffee in ample amounts, mainly because many have a reliance on caffeine for their sanity.

Architecture

Their buildings are made of mostly stone and wood, with accents of precious ores and minerals. Many buildings' windows are stained due to ample access to dyes in the earth. Greenhouse's and factories are common sights, as well as many food stands selling hot meals to passerbys, as even summer is mild and slightly chilly.

Population

Many non-humans make their home in Angelmoor, From Usagi, the bunny people, Neko's, werewolves, Kitsune, and humans. They are all evenly met in population, though many non-humans stick to the mines and mining districts, where their respective strengths are highly sought and valued….

Jobs

Like any other country or realm, there are many different jobs and careers. Potion Makers, Guards, Craftsman, Cooks, scribes and record keepers ....But the most important profession is that of Miners. They brave the depths of the rocky mountains and the mobs that reside there. They dig on, through cave ins and monsters, in search of stone as well as precious gems. They provide both materials for building and fuel, as well as trade. And in times of danger, when walls can no longer hold back the dark, they ascend to fight in the light of the sun.

Potion Makers

Works closely with the miners, as they need both materials from the mines for their work, and the miners need certain potions to complete their quotas safely. They live in the most sheltered area of the kingdom, and do their work and research from there as well. They have no separate living district, but live in small board houses or apartment-like homes. Many greenhouses dot their area, growing important plants such as nether wart, Mushrooms, and melons. They make especially large amounts of Night vision, Healing, Regeneration, and Strength potions.

Miners

Highly respected due to the danger in their line of work, and not much fazes them. Most are skilled fighters and have excellent endurance and agility. They aren't all consistent height or background, but it's known to be a colorful group of people. From highly agile miners to those that can bench 500 pounds with ease, there's a little bit of everything. Those who are tall can reach their quarty easier, and those who are small can fit through small openings, leading them to extraordinary discovery. Keen eyes however, are a must. And they take great pains to protect them. Goggles, special potions, and supplements are a regular sight on any miner, and if their eyes go, so do they.

Craftsmen

Turns all raw materials into tradable goods or usable items. Angelmoor is known for its incredible Craftsmen, and are revered for their skill. With that said, it isn't for the impatient or unsteady, as they can't make mistakes. If they do, they must start over.

Mining District

The mining district consists of both the housing for miners, amenities, and the industrial district.

Residential Area: Houses the near 3000 (Not in game, only lore) miners, and also has schools for families with children. It is also the location of the Copper Cauldron, a place where most miners eat after their shift. It gives one free meal to all miners consisting of a soup cup, bread, dessert and a drink.

Miner Amenities

Consists of shops and board houses, as well as theaters, restaurants and a museum. It also holds many classes held by friends and family to teach both the young and old different trades.

Industrial District

Is the location where all raw ore, stone, sand, gravel, and other materials is processed and turned into needed items such as weapons, armor, glass works, and even furniture and dishware. Many master craftsmen call this area home and find a use for their calloused fingers and knowledge, while novices train hard under their teachers to find their place.

Cute little RP lore i thought up~

[sukirichi]

true gift

A god like Naoya is about to see how his little mortal is hiding a true gift.

REQUEST.  deity au + virgin sacrifice for naoya + reader with worship kink

CONTENT/WARNINGS. virginity loss, naoya isn’t nice, mentions of blood,  murder, abduction, praise kink, slight degradation, fingering, overstimulation, slight breeding kink, creampie, orgasm denial, mentions of slavery, face fucking, reader is willingly consenting to pain, reader is a masochist, naoya is a sadist 

NOTES. ah...it feels so natural to write naoya...also can someone send me some good erotic hentai panels, yay <3

Today is the day – the one you’ve been prepared for ever since you’ve forced to make acquaintance with the blinding darkness and smell of rust.

What time is it? Is it morning, night...maybe somewhere in the middle?

There’s no telling, not when you’ve been staring at the pitch black darkness for what seems like forever. It’s been too long, so long, that you’ve forgotten what the world looks like. It’s like one day you’re helping your family tend to the farms when rough hands grabbed at you, and you’re shoved in a cold, dark cellar before you could even say good bye.

Oddly enough, the servants – or at least that’s what you assume they are, since they’ve been nothing but tight lipped and inherently obedient to a faceless figure – have taken extreme care of you.

Twice a day, they’d open the cellar, the sound of keys rustling and nearly muted footsteps like music into your ears. The slight sliver of light passing through from the outside is immediately concealed within a split second, a black smooth material wrapped around your eyes before they strip you off. Normally, you’d complain and fight back, but you’ve lost all the will to even defend yourself at this point.

You’ve given up a long time ago, and life’s been a lot more tolerable ever since.

Today isn’t any different. Maybe it was hours ago, two servants had came in to wash away the grime and dirt from your body before you felt something combing through your hair. Then, you felt it. A smooth, cold blade running up and down every inch of your body, rendering you immobile in fear even breathing could cut you open.

It didn’t. If anything, you felt a lot smoother, lighter, and freer.

“Is she bare?” an old, croaky feminine voice echoed in the small room, equally wrinkled hands removing the strap of your bra off before she lathers a rose-scented cream all over your body. “Naoya-sama prefers his slaves hair-free, you know that. Not even stubble is allowed, do you understand? Keep shaving her until she’s spotless.”

Naoya-sama.

So that’s where you were. It all made sense now.

For as long as you could remember, that name’s been spoken with terror, the slight tremble of voices and darkened eyes pooled with fear never absent in the presence of his name. You’ve never seen him, but you know enough to understand that he’s a prominent figure especially in your little village. He’s not human, but he’s not exactly a god either – at least, not one that people would willingly worship.

You’ve heard telltales on how his beauty alone had women dropping to their feet, the malice in those eyes of his enough to make even the strongest warriors stick to his side in fear of what he’s capable of.

He’s as old as time and as strong as the steady flow of the river you and your people have always bathed in. It doesn’t make sense that someone as fearsome as he was is living at the mountains where nothing but quiet, peaceful people rejoiced, but the more you think about it, of course he’d prefer his people submissive, heads always ducked in fear and shaking in terror.

This whole time, you thought you’d been sold off to a neighbouring clan head because your clan didn’t have enough funds to pay for the latest trade.

In a way, you’d feel a lot luckier if the former had happened instead, because there’s really no proper way of making sound of the fact you’re sacrificed to your own deity, Naoya Zen’in, after not completing your offerings to him for ten whole moons.

It’s bad, horribly so, and you should be shaking, should be crying, should be wishing for death instead, so then why are you deferential? You don’t complain when two rough hands pull you from the ground and keep your arms tight in shackles at your lower back, vision still obscured by this cloth as you’re guided somewhere – someplace that all the sacrificed women for your deity are received.

Your feet are sloppy and smacking against the hardwood floor, heart pulsing in your tongue for all the wrong reasons. Faintly, you can smell a rose-scented candle and water splashing, but it doesn’t register until you’re immersed under it.

You gasp, hair flattening onto your skin while you look around blindly, struggling to clutch onto something as your feet keep slipping into the tub.

You’ve never been into a tub before; much less recognize the soft, paper-like objects floating into the water with you. Head swaying side to side until water is sprayed everywhere, a firm hand keeps your head in place just as a pumice stone is scrubbed into your skin. It’s not painful, but the rough scraping sensation feels sensitive from your skin that hasn’t been exposed to normal, breathing air for who knows how long.

“Stop moving,” that same elderly voice commanded, and her assistants, most likely, move quickly into extending your limbs until you’re sprawled out everywhere. “We are to make you perfect, presentable, lavishing in front of our deity himself.”

“B-but —”

“You have no right to speak!” You’re left stunned as your cheek bruises red, lips wet from the water as you pant. The sting on your skin becomes more pronounced, but you dare not speak, opting to keep your lips shut instead. The elderly woman takes notice of your behaviour, humming before she makes you stand up, that same blade swiping down your exposed regions. “You learn fast and submit well. I think we have a worthy sacrifice for tonight.”

“She is gorgeous too, my Lady.”

“She should be,” comes a retort, your jaw clenched as you keep still. She forces your legs further apart until you’re embarrassingly exposed, the rose petals in the water sticking into some corners of your skin. “If she was not, she’d be dead already. It’s her pretty face that’s keeping her alive at this point.”

Everything is a blur after that.

One moment, they’re shaving you, the next you’re thrown from one body to another. They perform all sorts of things – towel drying your hair, exfoliating your skin, plucking your eyebrows to perfection before applying a shimmer to your cheeks and something sticky and glossy to your lips, then finally you feel the warmth of silk robes you could never afford even if you work yourself to death caressing your body.

After that, you’re locked inside a much bigger room, the blindfold falling off your face slowly.

You blink in surprise.

The room isn’t that dark, but dim enough, and your heart beats louder in your chest when you see the size of the room. It’s ten times bigger than your village meeting point, a large tatami bed sat in the middle. From one side, a window is open, allowing you to see the white illumination of the moonlight that looks hauntingly romantic.

Candles are lit on either sides of the room, and your gaze lands on odd whip-like weapons placed proudly on the walls.

Your legs are wobbly as you stand, life just coming back into your unused muscles. Making your way towards it, you reach out to touch this...weapon that’s still somewhat coated with the stench of blood. It’s immaculately clean and the leather is shiny, though it’s clear this has been used for far more gruesome situations before.

I think we have a worthy sacrifice for tonight.

You recoil your hand that’s a breath away from coming into contact with it, terror plaguing deep into your bones as you take a step back.

You’re a sacrifice, an offering, sacrifice, sacrifice, sacrifice – you’re brought here to die, and your god would kill you himself. Others may have considered it an honour to have died from the mercy of his hands, your oh-so divine lord who’s brought prosperity and wealth into your land, but you turn away, breathing hard as you make a break for the door.

But you never made it.

Your back lands into someone’s chest, a slight gasp falling from your lips before you’re pummelled into the ground, strong hands pinning your arms above your head. Eyes widening, you come face to face with your deity, his fox-eyes lined with dark kohl sharpening his already predatory features, ears pierced with tiny skulls and black dots.

His knee nudges your leg open and you groan, the sound making his eyes dart at you in warning before he smirks upon seeing you make no move to get away from him.

“As I’ve heard,” his deep voice cuts through the eerie silence of the room, the night so mute not even birds or insects cricketed at the presence of your deity’s need to have you for himself. “You are a compliant little lamb sent to the slaughter,” you shiver as his fingers run to caress the side of your face, his free hand undoing the knots that keeps your modesty. Naoya hums deep in his throat when the cloth falls to the sides, revealing perky nipples that pushed closer and closer to his awaiting lips at each heavy breath you took.

“You are stunning,” he praises, using a thumb to graze over the hardened bud. It’s barely a touch, but you’re sensitive, wholly new to this that you whimper. The sound is humiliating and utterly pathetic, your teeth coming down to capture your lips.

This displeases him entirely and Naoya taps your lips open, glaring at your wide, fearful yet aroused gaze. “You do not ever conceal such shameful sounds when I’m above you, do you understand?” You nod shakily, freeing your lip from its confines. Naoya snickers, chest puffing up with pleasure before he leans back to his calves, pushing the rest of your robe to the side until you’re completely exposed to him.

Your breathing grows more laboured when Naoya spreads your legs open, smirking as you whimper at the stretch of having your knees flattened by your sides. Legs placed on top of his knees, your elevated posture gives him more access to your bare pussy, his gaze zeroing in on the gleaming arousal that’s beginning to form on your lips.

“So fucking wet,” he comments, using both his thumbs to pry your pussy apart. You moan at the sensation of him pressing down on a part of you that you don’t know existed, and Naoya laughs, the sound sinister yet erotic. “You’re a virgin.”

It’s not a question – it’s a statement he takes pride in, especially because he knows he’s the chosen one to take something precious away from you.

“I’ve always loved virgins,” Naoya’s hands roam all across your body, slowly, sensually, passionately, the rough, calloused hands running under your legs to hitch them up behind his broad back, to cup your soft ass before he cups your pussy, groaning into your neck when he feels you leak and he’s barely touching you to begin with. It makes his ego swell when your hands wrap around his neck; he hates being touched by mere, lowly mortals like you, but you are undeniably gorgeous and so wanting of him that he allows you just this once. “Always so sensitive – do you want to be good for your deity? Hm?”

“Y-yes!” you cry out, eyes snapping shut when he suddenly inserts a finger in.

The feeling is foreign yet not totally unwelcomed, but you grimace anyway at the slight sting his digits bring. Naoya pumps his fingers in and out of your pussy to coax your arousal to drip further into the sheets like a waterfall, your nails digging into his robes while he watches you with a smirk. He laughs when your eyes widen at the second finger pushing in, thumb rubbing over your clit until your legs tremble around him.

“Virgins are always so gorgeous once they finally learn of pleasure,” he scoffs to himself.

You look at him straight in the eye, mouth falling open while small gasps fall through at the speed he’s pushing into you at.

Something begins to form in your lower bally until your body grows utterly warm, something...something close about to snap when he pulls his fingers out of you, throwing his head back in laughter when you cry for the first time that night.

Naoya stares at the way your gaze darts from his cum-soaked fingers back to your drenched core, brows raised cockily before he stands up, his figure looming over you. “What? Got something to say?” you only whimper in response, closing your legs as you try to provide answers to the brooding confusion punching at the back of your skull.

The sound of faint rustling brings you back to life, your eyes snapping to witness your god undressing himself, the robes falling from his shoulders too wonderfully that the mere sight of him has you clenching around nothing.

Fat cock standing tall and proud, tip red and glistening with pre-cum and a body carved by fellow gods himself, the rumours were right.

He is beautiful, and it’s no lie that his slaves aren’t really slaves to begin with, not when all of them have been so eager to please him, just to have a taste of this divine being that stands before you. Naoya easily reads your face; from the slightly parted lips, thighs rubbing together and hands looming dangerously to your core – you look so needy it’s actually fucking pathetic.

He’s slow in his movements, languid and taking his time because he’s got time and more in this world that he never cares about wasting something he has a plethora of.

Naoya makes himself at home above you again, basking in the way you’re struggling to breathe even without his hands on you. It doesn’t take long before he pushes two of his fingers inside your mouth, clenching his jaw when you open your mouth submissively, innocent eyes blinking up at him as you take your juices into your mouth.

You’re a natural at this, he observes, tongue expertly swirling around his digits until you’ve licked it clean. Naoya pats your cheek affectionately, his own way of applauding you for your work.

Under him, you grow shy and abashed, arms covering your bare breasts because he’s a god, why should he be pleased with you?

Naoya doesn’t give you enough time to think before he’s hauling you upwards, your shoulders shoved back onto the ground. You kneel below him in prayer and he tugs at your hair, forcing you to look at him, or rather his cock that’s slipping past your lips. You gag when he pushes his length all the way inside, the tip of it hitting the back of your throat.

Naoya sighs at finally being taken in – you should be grateful he even fingered you – his hands guiding your head to bob up and down him.

You do well at pleasing him even through the tears, clutching at his thighs while you suck in his length and swirl your tongue around the prominent veins. Naoya watches with hooded eyes as your cheeks hollow just to take his whole length in – and again, you’re a natural – so eager to please him too when you keep pushing and pushing, his cock repeatedly hitting the back of your throat.

His muscles ripple above you while he lets out a long, drawn out groan, nails scratching your scalp. You feel him twitch inside you and that’s when he takes over, snapping his hips ruthlessly until you’re left gagging and sucking his cock helplessly.

Your saliva is dribbling at the edges of your mouth, looking so fucked out and whore-like while he pushes himself to the edge. He doesn’t care that you’re choking and your eyes are zooming out of focus from not being able to breathe. He doesn’t care that you could die from asphyxiation, he doesn’t care because you’re his sacrifice – if you can’t even do this simple thing, then how else could you prove you’re worthy to live?

You know this too because you force yourself to breathe through your nose instead, wanting to show that you are worthy, that you can please and take him however he pleases you to.

Naoya isn’t stupid, he can see what you’re doing and can read your mind even in his lust-driven state. Nothing edges him more than a good, submissive whore. Now that he knows you’re willing to do anything without complaints, Naoya pulls his cock out just seconds away from orgasm, pushing you back into the mat with a grunt.

“You’re so fucking good for me,” he hisses and pushes both your legs to the side, your body bent and pussy left open for him.

Naoya groans as he slides himself inside you. You’re wet enough that he slides in easily, but your virgin cunt is still too tight and new to this that you scream around him, subconsciously clenching around him harder.

“You’d do anything for me, yeah?” he challenges, cupping your face while he rams into you hard, uncaring that your walls are beyond abused and a ring of blood is already coating his cock. This isn’t the first time he’s taken someone’s purity, but this is the first time he’s had someone look gratified that he’s hurting them, fuelling him to fuck harder into you despite the steady stream of tears down your face. “Look at you – so obedient,” he pinches your nipples and rolls them between fingers, growling at the way your pained moan sounds more like an encouragement for him to go harder. “You want to please me so bad you don’t care I’m hurting you? Are you so eager to worship me that you won’t even stop me?”

“N-no, my lord,” you manage through the pain, regulating your breathing as you completely break down in tears. Naoya is hitting a spot deep inside you that makes your insides feel like they’re about to burst, and he takes note of this, pinching your clit just to get you to clamp down on him. “Please – use me however you want – please.”

Naoya smirks, pressing your knees flat on the ground before he hovers above you, forearms planted beside your head. At any other given moment, he prefers to fuck his sacrifices with their face planted on the ground because he can’t bear to see how disgusting they are, but you – you’re so damn beautiful it puts his fellow gods to shame.

Now yours is a face he’d like to keep looking at, so he roughly grabs your cheeks and squeezes them with his fingers, kissing your puckered lips and nipping at them.

You taste heavenly too; his servants did a good job of choosing honey as a gloss. Naoya greedily licks your lips until he’s shoving his tongue inside your mouth the same way his dick is ramming inside your walls, tight, puffy lips wrapped happily around his base.

You’re moaning inside his mouth as he squeezes your breast painfully. Never in your whole life have you thought that pain would feel so good, enticing you to moan louder when the sting finally subsides, replaced with the mind-numbing sensation of his thick length rubbing against every ridge of your walls. Naoya pulls his face away from you, his cum and your saliva sticky on your face and he chuckles, the sound stuttered and breathy, brows drawn together.

He looks down to watch the way you accommodate him; this is by far the tightest and wettest cunt he’s ever fucked – ever will fuck �� that he doesn’t think he’ll be satisfied with any random whore’s pussy anymore.

Naoya frowns as anger bubbles up inside him, hatred making his cock swell inside you because how dare you make him wish he won’t take anyone again.

He wants more – want to kill more people, want to fuck more virgins, want to have more blood showering his skin until he’s bathed in glory and gore, but even though you’re the one he’s destroying, he’s slipping on the edge, too lost and hypnotized at the way your tight walls suck him in. Your moans don’t help either; they’re breathy and whiny, so defeated yet so eager to have more that Naoya grips your hips tight enough he might’ve cracked a femur from his godly strength.

Your scream this time is that of pain and loss, grappling on the sheets while white bursts through your eyes. Your orgasm comes crashing down on you overwhelmingly and you fall limp to the sheets, your translucent cum soaking his cock along with the previous blood, but Naoya doesn’t stop.

He keeps slamming into you until you’re mute from oversensitivity, hands cold with sweat and eyes empty while he uses you as his own fuck toy.

He gets there eventually, the room painted with his groans followed by a feral snarl, the rhythm of his thrusts turning sloppy and unbalanced. Naoya stills inside you after burying himself to the hilt, his crotch angrily rubbing at your pelvic bone as he cums. You whimper at the feeling of his warm seed spilling inside you in thick spurts. Naoya pulls out with a slight wince, scoffing at the mess you’ve made on his precious dick, but he’s forced to soften a little when he sees both your cum spilling out your hole in a messy puddle, the liquid coating your ass.

Meek as always, you don’t move a muscle when Naoya spreads your legs open, inching his face close enough to watch the way your pussy stutters and legs tremble in front of him.

You’re absolutely ruined – the puffy lips spread out and hole still pushing out the remnants of his cum. He doesn’t bother pushing them back in, uncaring if he’ll get you pregnant or not because it’s not like matters to him. You are nothing but another body to fuck and dispose of under the river once he’s satisfied with you, but he surprises both you and him when Naoya suddenly pushes two fingers inside of you, his eyes dark as he insists on keeping his seed right where they should be nurtured.

Now that he’s sure that will make your belly grow and provide him with a half-mortal heir, Naoya retrieves his robes and walks out the room, the slamming of the door shut similar to an impending doom of an imminent death.

But not yours.

You’ve fulfilled your duty as the death curse bearer of your clan; the greatest and most formidable weapon they’ve been carving to perfection the moment you’re born. The cracks in your bones and bruises on your body immediately heal as you turn to your side, chanting under your breath a hushed whisper of the words of your ancestors who’ve perfectly planned the death of the Zen’in God who’s made his people suffer for thousands of years.

They would be proud of you.

And as a body crashes outside the door followed by the frantic screams of his confused servants, you smile to yourself, falling into a deep sleep upon using your true gift.