#even though it's pure nightmare fuel

[sleepsonfutons]

Back on my Furby bullshit care of the discord crew!! This time I bring you the Corinthian aka Corby~

But that's not all (/ ☆ A☆)/~~

Beware the EXTRA Cursed™️teef version!

Ah yes, you came through for the 100-octane nightmare fuel! Welcome~(❁´◡`❁)

As thanks for coming through, here's a lil story inspired by the folks on Discord who posited that Cori would absolutely love this lil terror and keep it as a pet!

Dream had been looking for his nightmare for the better part of a day when he finally found him yet again in the Waking. Since his remaking the Corinthian had been far more docile, as far as any nightmare might be anyway, so it came as a shock for his nightmare to have wandered so far again. While he hadn't expressly forbidden his creation from leaving the Dreaming, he was still wary to let the Corinthian wander among the dreamers again...given what had happened with his last incarnation. Still he was willing to hold judgment until he saw just what his nightmare was up to. With a flick of his wrist and a spray of sand, Dream stepped forth from his realm into the Waking, straight into the middle of a bustling lakeside park. The sound of various conversations filled the air alongside the squeals of children splashing in the shallows off the sandy beach beyond the line of picnic tables shaded by oversized patio umbrellas. Casting his eyes about Dream immediately picked out his golden-hued creation...and the youthful form of his nephew, Jed. Ahh, an indulgence in his sweet tooth and a visit, Dream thought. He smiled at the scene and the still unexpectedly caring side of his nightmare on display until he noted the alarmed looks the pair were receiving from the surrounding humans. His small smile faltered as he began picking out snippets of what was said by the people who hastened away from his nightmare and nephew like they were cursed.

"Did you see that?!" "What the fuck is that!?" "I thought those things were creepy enough without all these outrageous mods!" "I'm going to have nightmares for months!! That's straight-up nightmare fuel!?" It was the last whispered comment that urged Dream to cross the intervening space in an instant. That mortals would so plainly perceive one of his creations was not to be bor- However, arriving at the table, the King of Nightmares though he may be, Dream, himself, had to pause as he took in the abomination that sat on the table between his nephew and the Corinthian. Begrudgingly he admitted to none but himself that he would have to take notes as the surrounding dreamers' assessment of the...creature...was not inaccurate. It certainly would not look odd among his creations, though, he had to wonder where this monstrosity came from or what had seen to its creation. His nightmare however barely paused in his consumption of his cone as he acknowledged Dream's sudden appearance. "Finally caught up then? I'd wondered when you'd turn up to call me back, my Lord." The Corinthian smirked up at him between licks of his ice cream. "As you can see, I'm just enjoying a cone with my pal. Isn't that right, Jed?" "Mmmmhm," Jed replied, oblivious to the horror of those around and seemingly unaffected by the creature on the table as he continued to eat his cone with a smile. Dream sighed and, flipping the long tails of his coat out of the way, sat down next to his nightmare. "I am not here to call you back as it were. If you had been up to aught that you should not, I would, however, as Jed is enjoying himself and all is well," Dream paused and looked at the disturbing tri-mouthed creature pointedly, "there is no such need." Tracking Dream's gaze, the Corinthian grinned to the point of splitting his face and though his glasses concealed his eye mouths, Dream knew they were mirrored the same manic delight. "Ah, my pet! It's the cutest thing you've ever seen now isn't it?" The nightmare's eyes would be twinkling with mischief if he had standard-issue eyeballs, but revealed itself in the scrunch of his nose instead. "I can see it's not one of yours given your reaction to it. I'd almost wondered if you'd created it as a gift for me, your favorite. 'Course that'd be too bold for you. Can't be showing favoritism now can you?" Dream decidedly did not squirm at that apt assessment, for the Corinthian was indeed his 'favorite' as such things went. He was without a doubt his masterpiece after all. "Certainly not. Still, I would have you explain where you found this...not nightmare." The Corinthian shrugged and bit into his cone, all the ice cream now gone. "Not much to tell. When I stepped through into the Waking and hopped in a car to go pick up Jed, there it was. Sitting pretty in the passenger seat wearing its seat belt all proper to boot. Given the striking resemblance between us though..." Trailing off, the nightmare licked his fingers free of crumbs and ice cream now that he'd finished his cool treat. "I suppose it could be an aspect of me? Though, you giving me the 'power' of creation seems a stretch." The Nightmare King simply nodded as he held the toothy gaze of the furry creature until it stuck three small, pink tongues out at him in a flash before returning to an eerily vacuous countenance. "Hmmm, it certainly is of you and despite my not directly forming it, it is of me as well." Nightmare licked his lips and turned a hungry smirk upon his Corinthian. "It is ours, my little nightmare." This last practically purred as he traced the blonde's jaw, even as Jed made a gagging sound at the obvious flirting between his uncle and 'uncle' Cori.

[fratricideknight]

a/b/o is a hot, slash-enabling romance trope TO YOU. to me, it's dystopian body horror.

[shapard]

Feather of Fate🕊️

Lucifer x seraphim!fem!reader

Soulmate arc

Michael is an Asshole

Near death experience

An Angel cries

Chapter 3 < Chapter 4 > Chapter 5

Lucifer was on edge. 

What is Michael doing here? 

Why Michael of all? The one that hates him more than anything. 

Michael was standing in his home destroying the peace Charlie and you had.

The peace you enjoyed so much that he wanted to keep. 

For the sake of you two.

His inner demon wanted to rip Michael limp from limp.

Its craving to use Michael’s blood to paint the town in pure gold with his blood.

Lucifers feather rustle out of anger.

“You would never pay me a visit Michael. We both know that.” After all it was his Fault.

Michael and Gabriel gave him the Idea to begin with.

And in the end they were the one who let him fall into this personal nightmare.

In hell. 

Lucifer almost lost his life because of them.

Meanwhile confusing was written all over your face. 

Brother? 

Michael? The Arch angel? 

Your brain was working on overload. 

Slowly it started to click. You completely dismissed the thought that Lucifer is an arch Angel.

An offspring from God himself. 

The Soulmate bond let you feel Lucifers rage, and his urge to protect you and his daughter.

It pushes you to stay put and to have faith in him. 

Lucifer was still in a protecting pose to protect you.

He didn’t even realize when he was in front of you.

In a blink of an eye, he saw himself protecting you with his wings. Making them larger and covering you.

What was wrong with him?

Was it because you grew close in these last days, or was there more?

Has he caught feelings for you?

It made sense. Common logic.

His train of thoughts were Interrupted by Michaels speech.

“You’re clever as ever. But I do have to disappoint you. I’m not here for you, but rather for that seraphim behind you.” Michael’s gaze moved from Lucifer towards you. 

His pure blue eyes bored into you, you felt almost naked under his stare.

You fiddled with the hem of your dress hoping it will help with your anxiety that started to build up in your system.

You heard an animalistic growl coming from Lucifer. 

“You better get the fuck away Michael.” 

It is terrifying. Lucifer is terrifying. You should be scared, but you aren’t. 

You found this utterly attractive. 

Lucifers horns were showing in all their might and all you could do was looking at them in awe. 

Michael was still staring at you, Ignoring Lucifers threat.

It fueled Lucifers Anger even more, the lights started to flicker in the hotel. 

Sweat pearled down from Charlie’s face.

She’s never seen her father that pissed before. Not even with Alastor nor Adam.

His eyes showing nothing but crimson red. But he remained calm in front of his older Brother. 

It would’ve scared Michael if he was a mere lower-class Angel or a demon in Hell. 

But he was the Arch Angel Michael, nothing scared him except his father God and Gabriel. 

He started to smirk showing his pearl white teeth, and it settled off you.

Lucifer and Michael looked so similar, same hairstyle, same face.

There was a huge difference between these two though. Michael was cold, his aura was dark and with nothing but anger and Ignorance.

Meanwhile Lucifers Aura was warm, like a hot bath that was pure relaxation. His aura was white and pure.

Maybe it was the bond. But you see a foul soul when there's one.

But one thing they had in common, and that's their pride.

You don’t have a good feeling about this.

He wants something, but what?

What can be so special in here that an Arch Angel comes down here and confronts his brother?

What makes you so special that Michael would come down here?

Michael's predatory gaze was following your every movement making you want to run or plead for your life. 

Lucifer widened his wings shielding you from the other Arch Angel.

You sigh in relief; you don’t want to spend any second longer with Michael's stare.

Not with the way he was looking at you.

Like a treat he could eat for breakfast.

“You should leave.” Lucifer’s eyes never left Michael’s.

All what he did was starting to laugh at Lucifer, “Aww, Little Lucifer protecting a fallen Angel How cute.”

In the next moment Michaels wings spread and he flapped them to create a hurricane like wind blow.

Wind blew softly in your face, Lucifers wings helped that you didn’t fly away from the force. 

With a crash Nifty flew into the alcohol bar, leaving a mess with broken bottles. Husk frowned, “Oh great.”

The whole crew hid behind the staircase to take cover from the Arch Angel.

Michael whistled. “You seem to grow a liking towards that girl.” He pointed at him then at you, “what happened with Lilith? Cheating on her?” Lucifer gritted his teeth and took a step forward. 

He wants to crush Michael skull on this hellish floor. Drawing an abstract painting in pure Gold on a red canvas.

“That’s none of your business.” Michael gasps at him, holding his mouth with his hand. Acting all shocked. 

You could swear Lucifer was ready to bounce on him.

His devil tail flicked dangerously from side to side.

That’s what Michaels want. 

He wants to see Lucifer loses control and letting his guard down. 

He wants to piss his little Brother off. And Lucifer fell for it. His pride is taking over not thinking correctly.

Your feet carried you towards Lucifer, grabbing his shoulder to stop him. “Luci, don’t. That’s what he wants.” 

He didn’t look your way but stopped in his track. 

This disappointed Michael.

Deep.

Usually this works, it always worked. Why not now?

He came here to have fun with you and Lucifer, but you ruined it for him.

“You are listening now to a random bitch?” 

This was the last straw for Lucifer. No one talks to you like that.

Lucifer flew up to get more speed when he flew back down to kick Michael in the stomach. That send Michael flying towards the nearest house.

Leaving nothing but ruins from the building.

Coughing he looked where Lucifer was, nowhere to be seen.

Confused he threw stones in every direction trying to hit Lucifer. 

Lucifer laughed at this useless attempt. “That’s what you’re doing now? Throwing stones? Who's the Bitch now?”

His heart started to race out of fear.

He whipped his head frantic searching for his enemy. 

A howling laugh vibrated through hell and a crash followed it. 

Lucifer punched Michael hard into the floor letting Michael see black for a minute. 

The earth shook under the force making you slump down at the sudden ground movement. 

Michael spit out one of his Paper white teeth, it was covered in golden blood.

Michael realized that Lucifer got stronger and could easily get rid of him.

But that can’t be true, that’s not fair.

“Fuck.” He screamed as he heard Lucifers laugh from joy.

Michael panicked; he still couldn’t see Lucifer anywhere.

He was scared to death. 

Sweat covered his injured now dirty white skin. His golden head piece had a slight crack in it. 

How can I get away from here? 

Then he remembers.  

you. 

You were his compass right now and Michael can use you.

Use you to cause mental damage to Lucifer.

Lucifer stepped out of the dark, stalking slowly forward like a predator to their prey.

Michael crawled back. His hand slipped on a small rock making him fall on his back. 

Lucifer took the opportunity and charged forward. Michael dodged his attack just in time, flying towards your direction in 200km/h. 

Searching for Lucifer in the distance, you saw someone flying towards you.

Your eyes widen in excitement, thinking it is Lucifer. 

You walked slowly towards him, only to see that this is not your Lucifer. 

This Aura, so dark and it was scary.

It was Michael. 

You started to run to the opposite direction, you knew he would catch you easily if he wants to.

But you won’t give up without a fight.

Michael’s hair was all a mess, he looked like a maniac who lost control.

Blood all over his white attire and dirt all over him. 

He grabbed your wrist lifting you up in the air. 

You screamed, kicking your feet all around you. 

For the first time in decades, you seem scared of heights.

Not having wings comes with fear from heights. Not being available to fly when you fell. Getting crushed by gravity wasn’t exactly how you planned on dying. 

Your scream was quickly caught the attention from Lucifer, out of panic he teleported his way to you. 

His tail swayed dangerous from side to side as he looked at the disgusting mutt of a brother holding you up with your wrist. 

Pain and fear were written all over your demeanor and for the first time in this battle he felt scared.

Scared that he’ll do something to you.

Scared that if he interferes, you’ll die.

Michael Shaked you a bit to piss off Lucifer more. As if you were a mere piece of meat laid on display in an auction house.

Meanwhile he swung you around your sleeve of your dress slipped down revealing the apple mark on your wrist. 

As fast as you could, you tried to pull the sleeve back up, but Michael stopped you. 

Michael raised an eyebrow at you, what was your plan?

He took a glance at the thing you tried to hide, and oh did he never forget that mark. 

You share the same mark like him.

Like Lucifer. 

“Really? That’s all the fuss why you’re doing all of this?” You looked away in shame. 

Michael was to say at least very confused. You were ashamed of being Lucifers soulmate? He would be too, but you clearly enjoy his presence way too much to hate this. 

Then it clicks, “Ohhh, he doesn’t even know.” You bitt your lip, showing Michael that his speculation was Indeed right. 

Lucifer was standing there at his friendlier form, observing the scenery above him. 

He doesn’t know what? 

You knew this would happen at one point. 

You hid it very well the couple days, even though your heart was aching for that man. To tell him the truth.

But you were afraid. Will he reject you? Or does he even enjoy your presence, when he finds out the soulmate bond makes him feel that.

Michael pulled you in front of his face, you two were so close that you could feel his breath on your lips.

“You’re not better than your mother. To keep a secret that huge and so small,” His hand stroked your mark, it started to burn in your wrist making you scream in terror. 

It felt like someone was burning a piece of iron into your cold skin making your blood underneath boil. 

You felt hot and lightheaded.

You wiggled your whole body, trying to get out of Michaels grasp. 

The tears that fell out of your eye collides on Lucifers face; his clawed fist clenched hard the claws shoving into his palm drawing blood. 

Michael ripped a piece off your long-sleeved dress showing your mark towards Lucifer. 

Lucifers eyes widen, no that couldn’t be. 

He searched in your eyes the answer, but you looked away, ashamed. 

And it hurts him. Why didn’t you tell him? 

He unconsciously rubbed his mark on his wrist which started to itch since Michael touched yours.

Now everything made sense for him. 

Why he felt that kind of euphoric, why he felt so in love. Why his heart ached for you every time you’re not there.

That’s why he was so attracted to you. 

And you lied to him. God knows how long. 

He is mad at you, but he won’t lose you out of his anger. 

You were his last chance, his nemesis. 

He must get rid of Michael before he can deal with you. 

Meanwhile you struggled in Michael death grip on your wrist. Your hand felt numb with no blood getting pumped in it.

“I can’t kill you Y/n. But I can cause you pain which will hurt him even more.” His eyes shifted towards Lucifer smiling from ear to ear. 

His laugh that rippled through his ribcage made you cringe.

 His hands let you fall out of his grip. Before you could relax, thinking he would let you go. He grabbed your hair making you wince. 

He pulled out a little dagger and pressed it against your neck. “Let’s see if your blood is still golden.” 

Lucifer flew as fast as he could towards you stretching his arm towards Michael and you. Michaels words echoing in Lucifers brain. Let’s see if your blood is still golden.

But it was too late.

His knife slashed a cut on your neck, golden blood started to gush out and you started to choke on your own blood. 

“No!” 

It was hard to breath, every time you tried to take the oxygen in your lungs, blood filled them which made you cough and choke every time. 

Michael let you go, disgusted that your blood spilled on his cloths. 

He removed his golden strand out of his face smiling widely at Lucifer. 

“Next time I make sure to you two will never see each other. Farewell.” With that he teleported away leaving a mess in hell behind him.

Lucifer punched into the cement where Michael was standing. 

His heart stopped when he heard you choking from your own blood. 

Ache

Rushing to your side he pressed on your wound tight. “Please, please don’t die.” 

All you could feel was pain, and the warmth of Lucifer by your side. 

And there it was again, the warmth of his powers flowing into your system. 

it was calming. Making you almost forget the pain you’re in. 

Lucifer was on the edge of crying. 

Forgetting that you didn’t tell him that you were his soulmate. 

All he could think about is that you were slowly dying.

He feels useless.

Charlie watched the scene, feeling bad for her dad.

He told her that he has a soulmate, someone who is his other half.

But since he fell, he’d never see them. 

It was sad to see his depressed expression when he thought about it.

But now he found out in the middle of the battlefield that he found her. And now he may lose someone precious. His other half. The reason he still had faith.

She looks at her father saying a mantra all over and over again. 

Please don’t die, please, please Y/n don’t leave me. Please.

He felt alone like he did when Lilith left him, but this is not the same. 

You’ll never come back. Leaving him with an empty void in his heart that cannot be filled. 

He survived the void that Lilith left in him. 

But not you, his soulmate that helped him without even knowing. 

Every night he thought of you. Not even in a sexual way. 

He held the duck he made for you tight to his body to feel comforted in some kind of way. 

And it all makes sense. But it may be too late.

Here you were, slowly dying in his hands. Passed out from your blood lost. 

His tears dropped down on your lips making you feel the salty sweet substance. 

An Angel cries.

Your neck wound started to close making him sigh in relief.

you have lost a lot of blood, and it was still life threatening but the bleeding was stopped.

You have a chance to survive this.

He stroked your cheek softly removing the dirt that was on your face. 

He pressed his forehead on yours in a comforting way.

“Please wake up.”

A/n: 👀 Soooo, how y'all doing? Thank you to all who are writing so sweet comments<3

Hope you enjoyed this chapter❤️

💫

@ayanazoldyck @marydragneell @lunaryasha @cherry-cola-100 @lxkeee @latersgates-steven @fandom-crashlanding @cupidsgift

[gotham-daydreams]

Lmao posting pure nightmare fuel without even a “hi, how are you?” after an entire month is one way to announce your return on Tumblr

How would reader be treated after they’re kidnapped?

LMAO YEAH- I fear that'll become somewhat common... I apologize! Though really, I hope y'all have been okay and I'm sorry for dying off the face of the planet as per usual... :']

Though, as for your question... it's a little complicated! Especially with how things end up going.

Some members of the family will definitely try to be more 'light' and understanding - as in most will let you get away with saying and doing some things here and there as long as you don't flat out leave or anything.

Sure, their feelings will get hurt if you insult them or get pissed at them in general (and rightfully so), but they'll take it as long as you stay. They are very, very desperate.

I can't say things will be good for... many reasons outside of the obvious, and that will become more clear once Chapter 4 is posted, and I mean very, very clear (you won't be able to miss it, trust me)- but they'll still try.. mostly because they're pathetic and very desperate like that LMAO

'Try' as in some will act like nothing happened, and try to pull the 'happy family' act which will work as well as you think. They'll be softer, more 'accepting' of any and all venomous words you'll throw at them (as in they'll just tolerate it), but they'll try to not do anything to make you more pissed off, and truly try to be a good family- which might piss you off more depending on who ya are, and their attempts are still more self indulgent more than anything as they are yanderes. Nothing they do is truly for your own good, comfort, or pleasure. It's all about them and trying to lessen the guilt they feel, along with fulfill that sense of obligation and so on-

Basically, don't trust it, it is very self indulgent no matter what, even if you also technically get something good out of it. Though at least you get something... better than nothing, right?

Just don't let them know that, they'll definitely try to do that more. The more you think of the good, the more (they're hoping) you'll associate it with them (even subconsciously), and... well...

It's all down hill from here, folks!

Nevertheless, expect some sparks of life here and there, I'm sorta back but sort of not- though I am trying to get back into the swing of things, especially with some personal projects i have in mind that (in my opinion) are much bigger than the Not [ ] Series, and much more thought out. Believe me, that thing is only a taste of what's to come :]

[starrylothcat]

Release

🔥NSFW🔥Wolffe x Fem!JediReader One-Shot

Summary: You and Commander Wolffe share an intimate moment. 1400 words.

Warnings: NSFW 18+. Minors DNI. Pure smut, with feelings.

Author’s Note: I love Wolffe. I love soft Wolffe. That is all. Please enjoy and drop me a line!

Right now, you weren’t in control, and you loved it. Wolffe had you practically bent in half on the edge of the bed, your knees thrown above his shoulders as he relentlessly struck a deeper and deeper part of you with every roll of his hips. Tears pricked at the sides of your eyes from the intensity, your mind completely clouded with desire, with him. You watched as his usual stoic facade crumbled, his good eye locked with yours as you both climbed closer to release. His large, warm hands grasped at your legs, his thrusts becoming more uncontrolled with every cry of his name that left your swollen lips.

On the battlefield you were powerful, decisive, The General. The responsibility of being a Jedi laid so heavy on your soul, you took these moments when you could forget, just for a little bit, whenever you could. In these minutes with Wolffe, you were just you. He was just him. You weren’t Commander and General. You weren’t at war, your lives at risk every single second of every single day. You could indulge in what you weren’t allowed to have, but maybe could if the circumstances were different.

Wolffe knew he wouldn’t last much longer as he watched you begin to completely fall apart beneath him, something only he could do to you, something only he had the privilege. Seeing his General splayed out, completely and utterly vulnerable, offering yourself to him without hesitation, made him crave you even more. It also made those screaming thoughts in his head that this was wrong, against every regulation he could think of, a little quieter.

Wolffe lowered your legs from his shoulders, pressing his torso down on to yours as your ankles locked around his waist, instinctually bringing him as close as possible to you. His forearms caged your head, every muscle in his body quivering, his cock driving deeper still in to you, causing you to see stars. You cried out and grasped his shoulders, your body writhing beneath his.

Wolffe brought his lips to your ear, hoarsely whispering how beautiful you were like this, telling you to let go, that he had you. How you were his, and no one else’s. Your breasts and thighs had already been thoroughly marked by his teeth, driving home the fact that you were indeed his and only he made you feel this way.

You nodded, barely forming thoughts as he brought one of his large, calloused hands down to your pelvis and began rubbing a thick finger deliciously against your clit, your body on the verge of imploding.

At any time you could easily overpower him, but you never did. You let him take charge, giving him some semblance of control in these moments, whereas in the battlefield there were none. He could lose you at any second, his worst nightmare was not being able to protect you, failing at his duty as Commander, even though he knew you didn’t need his protection.

But at least right now he could have you, care for you in the only way he knew how. Help release the burdens you both carried.

Wolffe let out his own guttural moan as your nails dug in to his shoulders, holding on for dear life. Your back arched off the bed as you got closer to your release, his practiced finger working magic on your swollen clit. Wolffe was getting close too, your unbelievably hot and tight cunt trembling around his cock. He couldn’t help but stare at you, your cheeks flushed and your hair coming undone, sweat dripping down the side of your head from the exertion, your lips parted as more cries left your throat. You sometimes had the same look in the heat of battle, the look that originally fueled his desire for you. It was never enough, though. He constantly wanted more.

Wolffe brought his head down to yours, biting down in to the flesh of your neck as another whine was ripped from your throat. “Wolffe, I’m so close…please…”

“Cum for me, mesh’la. ” Wolffe’s words were slurred against your neck, his eyes now squeezed shut at the building sensation in his lower abdomen. “Look at me, I want you to look at me when you cum, that’s an order from your Commander.” Wolffe was begging now, he had to see your face. He had to see how he made you feel, it had to be worth it, all the secrecy and sneaking around, not fully knowing where this relationship might go or how long it would last, or even could.

Finally, with a final tight circle of his finger, your orgasm violently crashed over you. You could barely keep your eyes open as you grasped at his cropped hair, your body completely coming undone as his strong thrusts coursed intense pleasure throughout your body. You choked out his name over and over, your head thrown back against the pillow in ecstasy.

Wolffe’s dark eye didn’t leave your face, your exploding orgasm causing your core to clench around him. The rush of your juices and your incoherent words caused his thrusts to become erratic as his own powerful orgasm suddenly rushed through his body.

Wolffe let out a growling, gasping moan of your name, his hips not slowing down as he continued to watch your face intently, savoring every sensation, every subtle movement of your lips, your eyelids fluttering as your eyes rolled back in to your head.

You weren’t his General. He wasn’t your Commander. You were everything he wasn’t supposed to have and didn't deserve. Wolffe was a smart man, and he knew this was more than just carnal pleasure. You understood him more than anyone ever had. You were an anchor, a shining beacon that kept him grounded. Your smile, your touch, your power. You trusted him, saw him as an equal. He loved you.

After one final press of his hips, Wolffe collapsed on your body, touching his forehead to yours, trying to find his breath as he slowly pulled out of you. Your chests heaved together as you reveled in each other’s presence. You both knew you couldn’t stay like this much longer but were savoring every second.

The moment you both left your personal quarters the masks would be put back on, the Jedi General and the gruff Commander, proud to serve the Republic, and nothing more.

Your breathing began to return to normal and you let out a satisfied sigh, bringing a hand up to his face, gently tracing his scar. You ghosted over his cybernetic eye, continuing down the side of his devastatingly handsome face. He leaned in to your touch, as you looked at him with what he could only presume as love. That secret word that you have not said out loud, but hung heavy on both your tongues after every intimate encounter. Something that you and Wolffe assumed would always be out of reach, his life completely dedicated to the Republic and yours to the Jedi Code. But that changed. You opened him up to the possibility of more than just being bred for war. He opened you up to the possibility of non-selfish attachment, realizing you needed him as much as he needed you. Wolffe wanted to finally say it, but instead brought his lips to yours in a kiss so tender you felt your heart ache. You were the only one who got to see him like this, the gruff Commander absolutely at your mercy. Wolffe did everything with purpose, and you didn’t mistake what he was trying to tell you.

I love you.

You cradled his face in your hands, kissing him back with the same gentleness he was showing you, hoping he’d understand.

I will always love you. I will always protect you. I will always be yours.

The urgent beeping of your comlink cut through the heavy silence of the intimate moment, lost somewhere in the jumble of robes and armor thrown carelessly by the door of your quarters. Your time was up. Wolffe pulled away from you, his face searching yours, still on top of you. “We have to go, Wolffe.” Your voice was shaking. “They are expecting us at the debrief.” Wolffe grunted, wanting to say something, to acknowledge the moment you had just shared, to say hell with the debrief. Your comlink beeped again, something you couldn’t ignore a second time, and he knew it. It was time to become General and Commander again, you couldn’t escape your fates. Wolffe rolled off of you, and you both dressed slowly, not ready to once again put on your professional guise, not wanting your time together to be over.

You clasped your belt, hooking your lightsaber to your side and adjusted your robes as Wolffe tucked his helmet under his arm. His serious and composed demeanor returning, but you could tell he was hesitating, staring at you with intensity, sensing he wanted to say something. You were about to ask what was wrong, but Wolffe suddenly reached for your forearm, yanking you back in to him, his helmet clattering to the floor. Wolffe growled and grasped the sides of your face, bringing you in for a desperate kiss. His lips moved fervently against yours as he finally uttered the forbidden words that had been burning a hole in his chest since you first invited him to your quarters, giving yourself to him.

I love you.

Your heart soared as you urgently whispered it back with ease, feeling lighter with every admission as his lips continued to devour yours, holding on to him so tightly you thought you might crack his plastoid armor. Everything but him faded away. He was giving his heart, his life to you. It was all he had to offer. You gasped the words again and again over his lips, letting him know there was no question in your mind about him, about what you had.

Wolffe pulled his lips from yours, letting you both breathe, not wanting this to end when it was seemingly just beginning. But it had to, at least for now. Duty called, as it always had and always will. His heart was pounding out of his armor. You looked at him, so lovingly and radiant he was once again at a loss for words, feeling as if he didn’t deserve this. But there you were, admitting the same long-hidden feelings that have been growing under the surface ever since you joined his squad.

Wolffe stepped back and let his hands fall from your face, one finger brushing over your lips as he did so, a promise for later. Nothing in this Galaxy was certain. But you were. And that’s all he needed.

Author’s Note: Never ending thanks to @wanderer-six for beta reading and being feral over this man with me 😚

[yanderes-galore]

Oh yay! Undertale! Can you write a yan concept for Nightmare Sans? ^^

Poor you... He's going to be horrible....

Yandere! Nightmare Sans Concept

Pairing: Romantic/Platonic

Possible Trigger Warnings: Gender-Neutral Darling, Obsession, Manipulation, Stalking, Sadism, Poor mental health/Talk of mental issues (Implied depression), Toxic behavior, Violence, Blood, Murder, Social and physical isolation, Kidnapping, Dark themes, Slight gore/Grotesque descriptions, Forced companionship/relationship (It's vague).

Nightmare would be difficult to deal with and get away from.

To you, he's the equivalent of an eldritch deity.

You can't kill him and your hate would only fuel him.

I mean, think about it.

Nightmare can traverse universes/timelines when he senses negative thoughts.

Cutting him doesn't kill him.

In fact, not much can hurt him.

The scariest example is probably an obsession who has little knowledge of the timelines and AUs.

That way you have no idea what Nightmare is... who he is... or what he wants from you.

You can get a similar result if you were aware of the multiverse, yet you might be more equipped.

Either way, Nightmare is drawn towards negative emotions.

As his obsession, perhaps you were going through a rough patch?

The good news about Nightmare is there's a low chance to get him as a yandere.

This is because in order to gain his attention, you have to have some pretty negative stuff brewing in you.

Nightmare would be the type of yandere to prey on weakness.

Nightmare would be more drawn to an obsession having poor mental health due to their environment.

The moment he's drawn to you?

Things only seem to get worse, unfortunately.

He'd be one of the more toxic yanderes.

Granted, they all are... but he's a special kind of evil.

When he senses weakness in his obsession, he pounces.

At first, he watches you.

He scouts you out, watching how you act, feeding off your negativity...

Then soon he starts meeting you, usually late at night where he blends in best.

I hope none of you were expecting him to be very... caring.

Nightmare would mess with your head, farming your negativity as though he's starving for it.

He acts as a manifestation of your poor mental health.

He isolates you socially by whispering bad thoughts.

He makes you think your friends hate you, that no one else cares.

All of it is lies, but those in a bad mental state are easy to manipulate for him.

His goal is to keep you to himself.

His "affection" is just a way to use you.

Considering what you have to go through to meet him, you're like a food source to him.

Nightmare is a monster in every sense of the word.

He watches you from afar, glowing blue eyes watching you with a certain hunger.

He loves your suffering... he feeds into it and off it.

Nightmare is good at manipulation, feigning care and compassion to lure you in closer.

As I said before, Nightmare would grow your negative thoughts.

Do you think everyone hates you? Well... he makes those thoughts louder.

They do, they always have... not one soul in your little world liked you or loved you....

But then he turns it around.

No one likes you but him.

Nightmare, as scary as he is, is your only friend and companion.

He plays the part, all a ploy to lure you in like an anglerfish.

He finds it cute when you believe every word he says.

You're in such a bad state you'd believe anything.

Who knows, you probably think he's some hallucination.

In reality, he's very real.

Nightmare would convince you to cut off all your friends and family.

He feeds you false promises of love, even sealing the deal with soft touches.

They aren't genuine, no, Nightmare views you possessively.

His feelings are more akin to a monster feasting on prey, or ownership.

His obsession isn't entirely out of pure love, if any love at all.

Every touch is calculated, every word planned.

You're going to be led into a sticky web of lies with him.

Nightmare plans to pull you deeper into the black inky thoughts you have.

If you think about it, he really is like a physical form of your current mental state.

He only ever seems to make things worse, too.

Nightmare would prevent any attempt to get better.

Therapy? Why even bother going?

You have him, don't you?

Please... he doesn't need you attracting his brother...

He's already taken claim to you, Dream would only ruin things.

Nightmare would keep isolating you and breaking you down until you're all alone.

Your negativity tastes wonderful to him.

By the time he feels you're all his... you can barely leave your bed.

You don't trust anyone, you don't know if you'll ever get better...

The only entity accompanying your thoughts is Nightmare, the ink black monster who never leaves you be.

Nightmare isolating you is important to him.

That way, even if you knew what he was doing, you can't leave.

Where else is there to go if all your bridges have been burned?

Exactly, nowhere.

Nowhere but back to him.

By the time you're ready to give up... he wraps you up in his arms, tentacle-like appendages dragging you tighter against him.

He promises to be merciful... to take you away from this place.

His words are more carefully placed lies.

This is the same monster who has definitely killed for you.

Any friends or family members who pry too much or get too close...?

Nightmare silently hunts them down, an appendage from his inky body impaling them in a bloody mess.

It brings him glee to know this will only make things worse for you.

The blood is quickly cleaned from himself whenever he "intervenes".

These acts have managed to give you the illusion of your friends and family really abandoning you.

Nightmare is a twisted individual, which is expected of his character.

His twisted behavior doesn't end when he lies to your face, saying he'll protect you if you just follow him.

He comments about you being unhappy in your life.

Don't you wish for something else?

Don't you want to leave?

Nightmare fakes the role of some guardian for you.

When you eventually agree, since you have nowhere to go, his grin turns sinister.

By the time you realize the true nature of Nightmare, he's already got you in his grip.

You can't tear yourself out of his grasp.

His grip is too sticky, forcing you to remain still as he teleports out of your world in a puddle.

Imagine if this was your first multiverse experience.

It's such a complex thing... and you only stumble upon it because Nightmare whisked you away.

No one's going to help you, you both know that.

His grip is unrelenting as he rambles about how much he supposedly "cares" about you.

He promises that you will have a new life... one different than your old one...

You'll live a new life by his side, forever...

But he never said your new life would be better than your old one.

[jemichi90]

On flowers and the Fuelweaver

🌹 Because I started thinking about Metheus and the Fuelweaver (as discussed in this mega post), I realized something about Charlie's stageplay.

🌹 Until now, I considered the line about the King making flowers bloom more of a figurative expression of the beauty that Charlie saw in Maxwell's magic when it was new and exciting.

🌹 But since Charlie is now two people in one body – with Metheus likely being the other half, the ”Mirror” – this means that some of their fragmented memories are going to get mixed up. The fact that the details don't add up, is something that Maxwell also comments on, if he's watching the play in the audience.

🌹 And since I consider the Ancient Fuelweaver the predecessor of Maxwell from the same era as Metheus (because the Fuelweaver is the one that calls Metheus by name and there is that shared rose theme - likely from BEFORE the Ancients, but that's also talked about in the mega post) with very clear parallels with Maxwell and Charlie, it hit me that there is someone that can make plants grow and flowers (of a kind) bloom with his magic – the reanimated skeleton on the surface. Which means that this specific memory likely belonged to Metheus.

🌹 The same bones and heart are used to reanimate the skeleton, whether that's on the surface, in the caves, or as the character we know as the Ancient Fuelweaver in the ruins. I sincerely believe that each version is the very same character, but his consciousness is only present when he's near the gate. I previously touched on the topic of Them being a parasitic hivemind entity. Maxwell was connected to Them when he was on the Throne and he still struggles to tell apart which thoughts were his and which were Theirs. He could see what they were thinking, and They could see what was on his mind, likely using his connections and knowledge to find new victims (among other things They needed to make sure that the seal on the Gateway would be broken and They'd be free once more). And it was likely the same for the Ancient Fuelweaver, until his entire mind was absorbed into the hivemind. And They are still only partially free and the majority of the entity is trapped on the other side of the Gate (for now) with whatever remains of his mind.

🌹 There isn't much left of the Fuelweaver's body, just bones animated by nightmare fuel and nothing else. The body can only access its own mind when it's close to the Gate where the hivemind is located. I believe this will also be Maxwell's fate if he doesn't stop using the nightmare fuel...

🌹 In any case, the reanimated skeleton on the surface may not remember anything and is acting purely on instinct. But I think the fact that he's not hostile, and makes flowers bloom wherever he goes, tells us a lot about the person the Fuelweaver used to be, before he got corrupted.

🌹 In the caves he's closer to the Gate and is acting much more aggressive. He's also making noises, but they fail to form proper words, but clearly that version is at least somewhat more aware of who he is and what's going on. I can only hope that his mind gets to rest in peace when the body isn't active...

🌹 Going back to the flowers though. It's pretty clear that Maxwell liked adding flowers too. All of his creations; the statues, the clockworks, and even the door to Adventure Mode are surrounded by flowers! It hasn't been confirmed whether he could make them bloom by magic or if he had to plant them like everyone else, but one thing is for sure; pretty much all of them were corrupted. The flowers you see around his creations are Evil Flowers.

🌹 I saw a line that felt relevant among the skin items. These gloves may belong to Wanda, but the quote fits in general. "Hands touched by shadows can only spread darkness." Maxwell's hands are certainly touched by shadows...

🌹 Maxwell himself has a number of quotes that imply that he thinks exactly that and fears that he'll just end up hurting anyone that gets too close (to be fair, this has certainly been the case).

[aller-geez]

You’re Safe Here ˚♡˚₊‧⁺˖

Okay seriously though…. I will not sit here and try to pretend that this fic wasn’t entirely for myself cause wow the whole thing is just self indulgent fluff….

Disgustingly sick Remi with the most sweet and pure caretaking from his mate. About 8k words with a bit more snz…… plus a little more mess than I usually write. Also has Levi help Remi hold back at one point 😏

CW: There’s also one sentence in this about nausea, but nothing past that.

@thekinkyleopard owns Levi as always! 🩶

Remi's peaceful slumber was abruptly shattered by a heinous nightmare, vivid and horrifying as they ever were. The wolf's cry echoed through the darkness of his dream, but its haunting howl also pierced the veil of reality, shaking the walls of their bedroom as he jolted awake in a cold sweat. His heart pounded in his chest like a jackhammer and every nerve in his body was on high alert, fueled by a surge of adrenaline that made his breath come in ragged gasps.

Frantically scanning the familiar surroundings, Remi's green eyes were wide with terror as he tried to shake off the lingering effects of the nightmare. But there was an unfamiliar tightness in his chest and throat, raw and constricting, making it difficult to catch his breath. Before he could calm himself down, his mate's hand squeezed his thigh in a gesture of comfort, but it only served to startle him even more.

With a yelp, the wolf nearly leapt out of bed, trembling as the remnants of the nightmare lingered in his mind. It was a constant battle, trying to keep the terrifying memories at bay, but they always managed to claw their way back into his consciousness, taunting him with their brutality.

“Remington!— Acushla! Hey! It’s just me!” Levi waved his hands in front of his mate’s face, trying to get the others attention.

Quickly, Remi was pulled back to reality by the leopard’s soothing voice. Before he could express his appreciation to the feline, however, the tightness in his chest demanded the spotlight, and his appreciative sigh was choked off by uncharacteristically breathless coughs that rattled within the wolf’s clearly irritated lungs.

Groaning loudly in annoyance over the way his body ached and his head throbbed, Remi forcefully fell back against the mountain of pillows behind him. After a second, he finally turned his head towards his mate, who cautiously smiled at him from the other side of the bed where he was nested in his soft snow leopard print blanket, with a thick, yellow hardcover book in his lap. A half full cup of coffee sat on his nightstand, and the lamp next to him had been dimmed as much as it could, splashing a calming yellow light across that side of the room.

“What’re you doing?” Remi asked through squinted eyes, his voice laden with a subtle hoarseness to it.

Taken off guard by the question, Levi cocked an eyebrow, looking from the book in his hand, then back to Remi and then back to the book again, confused.

“Whatdya mean, Rem? Clearly I’m stealing the Declaration of Independence; isn’t it obvious?” The feline giggled coyly, but the wolf was unamused, rolling his emerald green eyes with a more serious expression over a playful one.

Truth was, he felt like something someone would scrape from a storm drain or a gutter; just soggy and cold and overall just— icky. He didn’t mean to take it out on Levi, and he knew the leopard didn’t deserve it. But his fuse was so short currently, he couldn’t help it.

“No but really.. it’s this amazing book I picked up at the book store a couple days ago with a bunch of different Erotica short stories! At first, it didn’t even sound like something I would like personally, but I started reading it last night and I couldn’t believe —“

Cutting the leopard off mid sentence, the wolf muffled a grunt into his pillow, the pulse of an intense migraine throbbing through his temples. He reached back towards the now silent leopard seated next to him and gently patted the other’s thin thigh through the comforter that was wrapped up around them both.

“I love you, Levi, but—“ Remi’s voice cracked, and he had to forcefully swallow the sticky saliva that coated the inside of his mouth before continuing, though the hoarseness in his tone was clearly heard now. “—but I just— need 5 minutes without any talking..”

Grimacing outwardly, he brought a hand up to his face and pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and index finger, squeezing his eyes shut. It felt like someone had dropped a cinder block on the top of his head then proceeded to beat him with a shovel, and he was suddenly aware of the pressure within his eyes as his heartbeat pulsed painfully behind his eyelids. The congestion that decided to invade his sinuses the night before had definitely decided to set up shop, making breathing through his nose an imaginary concept. His ears were even clogged, which didn’t help the intensity of the pain within his skull.

Why did he always get such little warnings when it came to his immune system? He would be perfectly healthy the beginning of one day, and within 24 hours he was completely incapacitated by illness.

Without turning his head back and seeing Levi, he could just feel the offense taken by his blunt words. He knew he needed to correct himself and clarify with his mate, however, the energy it took to even confirm with his body about how absolutely shitty he felt was enough to lull the wolf back to sleep for a moment, dozing off with his mouth agape and a thin line of drool escaping his clearly chapped lips, falling onto the pillow below.

The smaller male scoffed almost silently, adjusting the book on his lap and tossing the wolf an insulted glare. “Sure, good morning to you, too, dick.”

Levi shook his head with a frustrated sigh, craning his neck upward a little to try and see his mate’s face, trying to gauge what he was even doing to need silence. When he noticed Remi asleep again, the leopard rolled his icy blue eyes with a huff, before returning to his book.

“Damn, Rude,” he whispered to himself with a crinkle of his freckled nose.

If you didn’t count the loud, ragged mouth breathing, the sub conscious sniffles his body preformed to keep the mess within his sinus cavity from escaping as much as it possibly could while he was asleep, or the occasional unintelligible word muttered in a hoarse, almost grotesque voice, 20 minutes of near silence passed as the smaller male continued to read his book, getting fully enveloped in the story he was reading.

Just as he was coming up on an important part in the plot, he felt Remi’s unconscious body shift next to him, and he managed a quick glance up to his mate, who was completely still again, although now positioned on his back. His broad chest rose and fell rhythmically, although more labored and frantic than usual.

Without giving credit to the sheen of sweat that coated his tanned skin, causing the damp sheet to stick to his bare back, Levi paid the wolf no more mind, desperate to read his book. He picked the book up this time, holding it out in front of his face while his eyes scanned the words on the page until he read something familiar, causing the white haired male to squeak happily before burying his nose back into the text again.

Not even a few minutes pass before Remi’s previously motionless body shifted next to him again; his defined nose quivered involuntarily against the moonlight that was pouring through the bedroom window and glinting off of the single watery line of snot that threatened to drip down the raven haired male’s upper lip.

Quickly placing his thumb firmly under the last word he had read as to not lose his place, the leopard reluctantly ripped his attention from his book again to shoot another glance toward his mate. He had been too invested in the book he still tightly clutched in his hand that his mate’s usual tells had gone unheard and unnoticed, and the cat was caught off guard by the familiar pre sneeze face that twisted the other’s features.

Suddenly, one good inhale caused Remi’s large chest swelled so full it looked as if he might burst, followed by a barely audible whimper, before his lanky frame snapped forward aggressively into a fully upright position.

“hh'IETSH’UE! Hihhh—Hihh’EXTSH’ue! HI’DTSCHIEW!” The wolf sneezed harshly down towards his own lap, decorating the surface of the blanket with thick droplets of mess. His nose ran profusely, causing him to try to frantically snort back the thick wall of congestion without much success as the pink hue that dusted his fevered cheeks became even more intense.

His strategy only resulted in a ticklish coughing fit that rattled deep within his chest cavity, and lasted a little longer than either of the two would have liked, earning a concerned frown from the leopard as he set his book down on the nightstand and reached out one of his pale hands to gently rub circles in his mates damp, muscular back.

“Ghnnhh..” the wolf moaned quietly with his head in his hands, melting into the other’s touch and sniffling unproductively.

Every muscle in his body screamed at him, and the pressure within his skull was almost unbearable after such a rough wake up. Wincing again, Remi brought one of his large hands up to grip his temples between his thumb and index finger, squeezing his eyes shut to try and relieve some of the pressure in some way.

Levi tilted his head as he studied his ailing mate, getting closer to the wolf on the bed and starting to massage up and down the other’s back more intensely, this time with both hands. As the other’s deliberate pressure was increased on his aching muscles, Remi sighed in contentment, turning into jelly within the cat’s expert hands.

“What can I do for you, acushla? Let me help you.” The leopard whispered as quietly as possible to avoid aggravating the other’s headache.

“Hhhnm?” Remi willed his eyes open to glance back at Levi, and the usually bright green glow of his irises was now dim and unsaturated, while dark purple circles painted the flushed flesh under his eyes.

“Oh— Ndo, that’s okay.. Th-Th-hehhh- thandk you, kihhh— ihh- ih’TTSSHH! hih’iiiSSHHH’uu!!” Remi tucked his face into his shoulder to direct the sneezes away from the other, following them up with a thick, waterlogged snuffle and a pained sigh.

“Bless you baby.. do you have a headache? You want me to get you some ibuprofen?” Levi asked gently, already shuffling his body to get up to grab the bottle of medicine.

“Thandks.. and yeah, I guess I could take sobe..” The wolf sighed and admitted defeat, dragging his wrist under his nose and leaving a wet trail up his forearm. With another thick sniffle and a grimace, Remi shuddered, suddenly feeling the air hitting his still damp skin and causing goosebumps to rise all over his body.

“Cad you see if we have ady tissues left, too?” He asked rather pathetically, leaning back against the headboard and pulling the comforter that was lazily draped over his waist up under his chin,  curling up his comically long body so he was in a tight ball around himself.

Levi nodded towards the wolf with an endearing smile, getting up and making his way to the door.

“Of course baby.”

After a second, the leopard returned with a large bottle of ibuprofen paired with a cold bottle of water from the fridge, and gently plopped it into Remi’s lap with a smile.

“Here’s this, and—“ with a sheepish expression, Levi pulled out a fresh roll of paper towels from behind his back and offered it to the wolf. “We ran out of tissues, but I can get more in a little bit.. until then, this is all we had..”

With a single defeated chuckle, Remi took the roll from the other’s outstretched hands, shaking his head as he ripped off a few of the first sheets and folded them twice, then three times before tenting them over his nose. With a loud, productive gurgle, he blew his nose into the paper before exhaling a sigh as he balled it up in his hand, absolutely drenched through. The rough paper towel was harsh against his poor reddened nostrils, only furthering the chapped, irritated skin there. With a ragged inhale, he tried to catch his breath enough to open the bottle of ibuprofen in his lap, but when he was distracted by another onslaught of chesty coughs, Levi’s optimistic expression quickly faded into concern and he sat on the edge of the bed close to his mate, taking the large bottle of medicine from his weakened grasp.

Remi didn’t protest like he usually would; instead he just watched the cat with a pitiful look on his downtrodden features, which made Levi more concerned than anything.

Dumping out 4 ibuprofen into his ivory palm, the cat offered them to Remi with a gentle rumble from low in his throat that sounded like a purr, and a small smile.

He had to remind himself inwardly that his mate always did better when he didn’t lose himself in worry over him, and instead just tried to be optimistic. The wolf always had been bad about absorbing the cats emotions, and he needed to be there for Remi right now, not stress him out more.

Remi reached out to take the ibuprofen almost like a zombie, his expression blank as he took the pills from Levi’s hand, and the leopard could easily feel the heat radiating off of Remi’s hands. Reaching into the wolf’s lap, the cat snatched the unopened bottle of water, cracking the cap off and holding it out to his mate, who took it in an equally uncharacteristic manner as he had taken the pills.

As Remi took a gulp of the cool water, it suddenly occurred to him how dehydrated he was. Without much thought, he lifted the bottle of water so it was almost completely vertical and began to chug the contents as if his life depended on it, only popping his lips from the rim after a moment in order to gasp for air, and sputter a few stray coughs towards his knees breathlessly. Thankfully, at least a couple good gulps still remained in the bottle afterward, and once he caught his breath, he filled his large mouth with the last bit of his water, before tossing back the four pills that he held in his sweaty palm. Once Levi had watched the other take the pills, he tousled the wolf’s hair lovingly as he stood up again.

“I’ll get you another water bottle, and I want to see how high your fever is..” The smile that he plastered on his face was clearly forced, his head reeling with concern for the state of his mate, but Remi was too out of it to call him out for it.

“Okay, thandk you..” Remi croaked out, only his eyes following Levi as he walked out of the door.

He scurried to the kitchen that was only down a short hallway, stopping at the drawer at the very end that was deemed the “miscellaneous drawer” and for some reason was the spot they had decided the thermometer lived. He fished out the instrument from the depths of the drawer and closed it quickly, holding it up with the screen towards him and pressing the button to confirm it still worked. When the numbers lit up across the led screen, he silently cheered to himself before turning towards the rest of the kitchen. As the leopard pulled open the fridge and pulled out another fresh bottle of water, he was startled by another spontaneous fit that was uncharacteristically loud for his mate.

“HEHH’DZSCHh’iEEw! Hihhh- HHHH- hHEH’TZSCHh’UE! Hd’IZTSsHHhhh’ih! HAH—! hiiih’AETTCHHuh!” The wolf sneezed loudly, scrambling to snatch another sheet of paper towel off of the roll and clamp it to his nose and mouth, however the first two escaped before he had a moment to process his impending actions. A river of ick began to pour from his raw nose despite his incessant sniffling ,and tears that welled up in his dull eyes threatened to follow suit. Desperately, Remi stuffed the soiled paper towel under his nose and pressed it there firmly to catch any leakage.

When Levi returned to their room and laid eyes on the pathetic creature that was his mate, curled up under a big comforter, crazy bed head, a soggy crumpled up paper towel pressed to his nose that beamed a crimson hue now, dark circles under his half lidded eyes that were puffy and damp with tears, he swore he felt his heart melt within his chest.

“Here baby, here’s more water, and you know the drill with this..” The leopard smiled with his faux optimism, holding the thermometer up and wiggling it back and forth between his fingers.

Remi snuffled wetly against the makeshift tissue with a nod, removing it from under his nose and lowering his hand until it sat in his lap obediently.

“Sorry if I get sdot odn you, I cadt help it. Mby nose wodnt stop rudding.” He warned with a flat tone, and as if to enunciate his point , a single bead of clear snot suddenly threatened to drip down his upper lip.

“Don’t worry, Acushla. You never have to worry about that kind of stuff, okay?” The cat smiled down at his mate before leaning down slightly and kissing the top of his head. When he pulled back, the wolf managed a slow nod in acknowledgment with a preemptive snort, and opened his mouth for Levi, his tongue slightly raised.

With expert dexterity, the leopard tucked the uncapped thermometer under the other’s tongue just as he closed his mouth. Well, almost closed his mouth. He had to breathe still, right?

Sitting on the edge of the bed again while he waited for the thermometer to beep, Levi began carding his fingers through the damp strands of raven colored hair that even for Remi, looked messy. The wolf leaned his head back slightly, a pleasured groan leaving him as the instrument between his lips continued to get a reading, beeping periodically as it climbed higher and higher.

After a few seconds, Levi could feel his mate suddenly stiffen under him, his ragged breathing now slow and more deliberate.

“L-Levi—“ Remington tried, and the cat’s thin fingers stopped slipping through his hair as he leaned forward to hear him better.

“Yes, baby?”

“I hhh-… I h-have to.. sdehhh- Hihh—! ..sdeeze—!“

The leopard’s icy blue eyes flew to the thermometer perched between the other’s chapped lips, sucking his teeth loudly in response.

“Come on Rem, hold it back for a few more seconds so the thermometer can finish.. I know you can hold it off for just a few seconds..” He coaxed, removing one hand from Remi’s hair and placing a single pale finger under the wolf’s quivering nostrils, pressing it firmly against his septum despite the small pool of wetness that already resided there.

Remi gasped as the sensation that burned within his irritated nose seemed to take offense to Levi’s control, and roared quickly back into an overwhelming force that buzzed so intensely that the wolf began to stumble over his own breath snagging in his throat. The canines ragged breathing sounded almost strangled; breathless. “Hhhh—.. Hhhiihh—“

“Good job baby, only a few more seconds..”

The concentration it took to swallow back the inevitable fit was almost too much for the wolf, however just as he was about to break and succumb to his urges, the thermometer beeped loudly to signify it was finished. Quickly in one fluid motion, Levi removed his finger from under his mate’s nose and snatched the instrument from his lips, before drawing it back towards his face to read it.

Suddenly uninhibited now, Remi couldn’t dream of holding back the forceful, desperate fit that exploded from him, and not a moment too soon.

“Hah'ISSchuu! Hh— hiiih’IITTSSSHUU! tch’ISSH! Heh— hiiiihh—ITSCCCHH’ah! Sdddrff, haah—! hdt’ishhhh! Hihh’ISSHh! Hh— ihH’ktdSHhh!!!” The sheer force of the sneezes that tore through him left his usually strong, able body trembling, a shudder rolling through him as he blew his nose again, soaking yet another makeshift tissue before tossing it to the side. His shaky hands already fumbled with the roll of napkins to tear off another sheet, stuffing the dry paper against his sensitive nostrils that were the equivalent of a broken faucet. Finally turning his head to face Levi again, he snuffled against the paper towel and looked up at the other much like a kicked puppy.

“S’Whats the dabage?” Remi asked, his voice not much more than a whisper and muffled by the mulched paper in front of his mouth.

“104.3…” The leopard sighed with concern, managing a glance towards Remi, who simply nodded when hearing the results.

“If you were human we would be at the ER right now so your brain wouldn’t liquify but—“ With a soft chuckle and a loving smile, Levi reached out to gently pat the top of his mate’s head in reassurance. “It’s nothing some medicine and rest won’t clear up.” He smiled genuinely, a small sparkle of optimism reflecting with his blue eyes.

This small gesture from the other meant more to Remi than his mate knew, and a small smirk slowly appeared across his face.

“Does this mbeand you’ll lay id bed with mbe all day, thend?” The wolf asked hoarsely before managing a chuckle that wasn’t choked out by coughs.

Levi couldn’t help but grin, a wave of relief crashing over him as he was captivated by Remi’s smile; albeit small, it was still more of a smile than he’d expressed since he woke up.

“Of course my love, I would LOVE to spend the day in bed with you.” He answered genuinely before placing another chaste kiss against the top of wolf’s head. “But there’s one thing I want you to do first..”

Quickly, Remi’s smirk disappeared, and he looked down at the bed as he dabbed gently at his leaking nose, the appendage threatening to leak past the rough paper towel that was meant to contain it.

“Bmaybe… depends…” Remi huffed with a more annoyed tone to his already shot voice.

Levi giggled softly at his mate’s theatrics, shaking his head. Leave it to Remington to be a stubborn ass even in the throws of severe illness.

“It’s nothing bad!” The leopard cried, causing Remi to recoil from the volume of the cat’s voice, and Levi clasped a hand to his mouth selfconsciously.

“Sorry— it’s not bad.. I just want you to take a nice, cool bath so you can be clean and comfortable and maybe it’ll bring your fever down a bit..” The leopard finished, avoiding making eye contact with the other for a second, but when he was met only by silence, he turned back to glance at his mate with confusion.

“I dod’t kndow if I cand—“ Remi finally replied sheepishly, one of his hands absentmindedly playing with a loose string that hung off of their comforter on front of him. He already felt as if his head were in a fish bowl, and his limbs felt so weak that he didn’t even trust them to support his weight for more than a few steps, much less wash himself.

“Oh, n-no! I meant— You should let me help you take a bath.. I know you don’t like me having to do all of that stuff but it’s my pleasure, Rem! I just want to do what I can to make you feel even a little bit better, and I think you’ll be so much more comfortable if you’re clean, and I put new blankets and sheets on the bed.. Please?” Levi could feel himself word vomiting, but once the flood gates opened, there was no reeling it in.

At first, the wolf opened his mouth to decline the others kind offer, but watching him get so worked up trying to convince him was enough for him in that moment.

“—okay.” Remi finally croaked out, and it took Levi so off guard that he continued to argue his point, not fully processing the word that had come from the others mouth.

“I swear, you’ll get rid of all that crap in your lungs! I have some Vicks bath stuff that I think will help you and you’ll already be in the water so you don’t even need to bring the tiss— err… paper towels!” The leopard continued frantically, waving his arms about as he spoke.

Remi couldn’t hold back the slightly strangled chuckle that rumbled through his throat. “Kittend— Levi, baby.. I said okay..” he reached one of his baseball mitt sized hands out to place it on the cat’s forearm trying to ground him, his flushed skin just radiating heat a few inches from its surface.

“O-oh— okay, well I didn’t expect you to agree!” Levi beamed so wide that he was forced to close his eyes, and if Remi was honest, that was all he ever needed to recover. The cats smile was bright and infectious and the octaves that it caused the wolf’s  heart to sing could be heard no where else in the world. He would spend days lost in the baby blue pools if he could. But he would gladly accept the feline’s kind offer, if it made Levi happy.

“Wait here, I’ll go get everything ready for you, okay?” The smaller male chirped as he pulled the door open, scurrying down the hallway towards their bathroom as the wolf shook his head with a smirk, and a few more ticklish coughs.

It only took a few minutes for Levi to draw the bath, toss a fresh towel and a fresh comfortable outfit for Remi to change to into the drier in the hallway, drop two of the Vicks tablets into the bath water, and light a few small aromatherapy candles that were placed along the side of the bathtub. Lastly, he dimmed the bathroom lights to create an ambiance that wouldn’t be too much for the ailing wolf. Pausing in the doorway for a moment to admire his work, the cat clapped his hands together with pride before dashing back down the hallway into their room.

Even though it had only been a few minutes, Remi was already fast asleep leaned back against the headboard, his mouth hanging open as he breathed loudly.

Levi approached his mate slowly and quietly, and once he was close enough, he reached out to gently muse the wolf’s hair and kiss him on his warm forehead a few times.

“Hey babyyy… your bath is ready~” Levi mewled softly into his ear.

Peeling open his emerald eyes, Remi blinked slowly before looking back at Levi, his determination obviously dwindling. “Are you sure you wadnt to do this? If i’mb this gross ndow, I cad prombise you it’ll be way worse ind a Vicks bath..” the wolf warned, a little embarrassed for his mate to even see him at this level of disgusting.

“Come on, Rem.. we’ve been together too long for me to get grossed out by anything that comes out of you, alright? You’re Safe Here with me. Here, take my hand, I’ll steady you.” The leopard grinned with understanding as one ivory hand was extended towards his mate, which the wolf reluctantly took as he stood up next to the bed, and Levi tossed his mate’s muscular arm over his shoulder to brace him while they shuffled towards the bathroom together.

Once they had crossed the threshold inside the bathroom door, Remi scuttled to the toilet to sit heavily on the closed lid, his head spinning from the short walk to their bathroom. For a moment, he was silenced by overwhelming nausea, having to hold his breath as saliva pooled into his mouth, but once he was able to breathe for a second with his eyes closed, the churning of his stomach finally stopped. He breathed a sigh of relief, which just turned into the same thing all the others had, and he coughed harshly several times into his fist.

“Here, baby, if this is too much for you we can wait until you’re a little better, okay? I don’t want you to pass out..” The leopard asked cautiously as he ran one of his hands up and down the wolf’s back.

“Ndo, ndo, I’mb good..” The larger man sniffed sharply, trying to clear the obstruction from his nasal passages, still to obviously no avail. “Oh, Sorry— you probably deed these off of mbe, huh?” Remi asked in a haze, tugging at the hem of his sweat pant that were still very visibly damp from his sweat.

“Rem— lemme help you, alright?” Levi placed his palm on one of the wolf’s toned biceps to stop his efforts and the canine jumped slightly, startled from the physical contact. It took Remi a second to understand; an expression that resembled that creepy friend of Alistar’s had taken over the raven haired males features, his face completely blank and his eyes almost vacant looking as he stared at the leopard for a second, the wheels in his head turning.

“I’ll help you get undressed, Rem— I don’t want you to hurt yourself..” Levi assured the confused wolf, who finally seemed to understand what was being said to him and released his grip on the fabric of his sweats. He then ever so slowly stood from the top of the toilet, his knees visibly shaking from the effort as he stood there.

Quickly but carefully, Levi peeled the damp sweats off of his mate, and then his underwear as the larger male leaned on the cat’s shoulders for support. All of the wet clothing was tossed onto the bathroom sink one by one until the wolf stood there naked, shivering madly.

“Okay baby, I’ll help you get in, too, okay?” He smiled genuinely as he finally stood to match the wolf’s height and Remi wrapped his arm around his mates neck for stability. Slowly, the smaller male helped the wolf lowered himself into the lukewarm water of the bathtub until the water almost completely enveloped his large body.

At first he didn’t even notice the difference in the Vicks bath water, the thick wall of congestion behind his eyes seemly impenetrable. But after a few moments of relaxing his aching muscles in the warm water all the way up to his chin, the intense scent of eucalyptus and mint that Vicks gave off slowly began to creep into his nose. In an instant, the pressure within his sinuses began to decrease, but the adjustment of the wet cement within his nose reignited the tickle that had laid dormant since his last overwhelming fit.

“Oh— oh god?” Remi asked outwardly, sounding almost panicked as a thick string of snot dripped down his face from one nostril, and the other threatened to do the same. Mortified, the wolf tried to snort back the obstruction while pressing the heel of his palm back against the bridge of his nose, but by this point, the dam had broken and there was nothing that would stop the mess from flowing from his overly sore nose at this point.

And oh god it fucking tickled so badly..

“L-Levi.. cehh— cad I have a tihh— tissue? Toilet p-paper, sombethigg—?” Remi asked frantically, waving one hand at the leopard while he pinched his nostrils closed with the other hand, his dim green eyes squinting through tears.

In a panic, the leopard scanned the bathroom for something he could give to Remi, but the toilet paper dispenser sat in the corner behind the toilet with a sad, empty tube on it. “Sorry babe.. I told you I have to go run some errands when it’s a more appropriate time..” the leopard tried to defend himself, but Remi was preoccupied with keeping his breathing steady, his eyes squeezed shut and thumb and index finger squeezing the raw, pink flesh of his nose.

“you want me to get the paper towels from the room?“

The wolf couldn’t even open his eyes to answer his mate’s question; he was only able to nod frantically, his breath snagging harshly in his throat a few times despite all of his efforts.

Quickly, Levi hopped up from his spot on the side of the bathtub, and dashed down the hallway into their room. His bright blue eyes scanned the messy room trying to locate the roll of paper towels he had given Remi as quickly as he could, but when he finally managed to find them stuffed under one of the wolf’s hundreds of pillows, he was too late.

“Hd’IZTSsHHhh’ih! HEhH’eEZSCHhh’iiEW! HEHH’DZSCHh’iEEw! Hih—hiihhh— hh—“ the last sneeze caught, leaving the raven haired male gasping as the tickle began to back off and climb back into his sinuses, refusing to give him the much needed release. A soft, pitiful whimper could be heard from the bathroom as the wolf scrambled to clean his face of any of the thick ropes of snot that had just embarrassingly exploded from his throbbing face before Levi came back into the room. He swiped his wet forearm against the dripping mess that was his poor nose, and Remi couldn’t help but grimace in disgust at the size of the trail that was left on his skin afterward, quickly using the water around him to rinse it off.

When Levi finally returned to the bathroom again, his expression displayed only empathy as he ripped off a few sheets of the mulched paper and as gently as he could, he cleaned up the wolf’s face before holding the sheets gently over Remi’s bright red nose.

“Blow for me? I promise, I’ll get you those lotion tissues in a few hours to save your poor nose.” The leopard flashed a compassionate smile down at his mate, who although under no normal circumstances would he willingly let the cat help him blow his nose, but his head swam and he was beginning to feel rather lightheaded and delirious from the fever that still burned across his cheeks and forehead brightly, even from underneath his thick black mane of hair. These were not normal circumstances.

Complying without a single snarky comment, Remi forcefully blew his nose into the wad of paper towels in the others hand, completely soaking it in one breath.

“That’s it, Rem—“ Levi mewled his encouragement, gently wiping his mates nose again afterward as to not irritate the red and raw skin with such a rough material.

“Hghnnn..” the wolf shuddered violently as he leaned against the back of the tub.

“Okay, let’s hurry up and get you clean so I can get you back in bed, yeah?” Levi asked with a small giggle, tossing the sodden paper into the trash. Reaching to the side to pull out a blue bottle of shampoo, the cat squirted a small amount of the viscous liquid into his palms and rubbed them together before gently beginning to work the shampoo into his mate’s thick raven colored hair.

The wolf felt as if he was put into a trance. With a soft hum, Remi closed his eyes and let Levi run his long, thin fingers across every inch of his scalp as he lathered up all of the shampoo, nearly willing him to sleep again.

Once the cat was satisfied, he took the shower head off of the wall it usually sat on, and when he reached over his mate to turn the water on, he couldn’t help but steal a glance at the wolf. He breathed a gentle laugh at how content the other looked, admiring the man for a moment before returning to business.

Warm water began to flow gently from the handheld shower head, and Levi made quick work of rinsing all of the soap from the wolf’s hair before hanging it up on the wall again. By this time, Remi was barely conscious, his head resting back against the lip of the bathtub with a half lidded haze clouding over his features. He would help lift his own limbs when he was instructed to so Levi could gently wash his tanned skin, but that was about all of the help he was able to give.

Finally, after what seemed like an entire lifetime, Remi was clean and rinsed off completely. Leaning over his mate again, Levi pulled the cover off of the drain in the bottom of the bathtub and the water began to loudly get sucked away from between the wolf’s feet.

“Okay my love, let’s get you dried off and back in bed, okay? Can you stand up while I go get your towel and change of clothes?” The leopard asked seriously, afraid leaving the wolf alone for 5 seconds would mean certain death for the canine.

Slowly becoming slightly more lucid, Remi managed a slow nod before lifting his arms to the sides of the large tub and using all of his remaining strength to will his body to a standing position while Levi dashed off to pull the warm towel and the comfortable clothes from the drier that he had prepared for the wolf.

When he managed to come back into the bathroom again, he was greeted by a naked Remi who stood shivering aggressively on the tile in front of the tub. “Here baby, this should feel a little better..” Levi tossed one of the towels over Remi’s head as he approached and the canine moaned happily, his shaky hands coming up to grasp the towel and pull it tighter around his torso. Levi had another warm towel that he used to tenderly dry his mates legs, before having him sit on the top of the toilet. The leopard continued to dry the rest of the other’s body very gently until the only thing left wet was his dark, thick hair.

As his mate compassionately took care of him, the wolf continued to become more and more like himself again, and by time Levi was ready to help him get into the clean clothing he was brought, Remi was far more alert and present. Relief washed over the leopard to see the other in seemingly better spirits.

Rising to his feet a little faster than he should have, Remi had to pause for a second and brace himself with one hand against the doorframe. Recovering with a slow shake of his head, the wolf took the pair of socks and clean underwear from his mates hand and proceeded to clumsily pull them onto his lanky body. Once finished, he glanced back at Levi with a bigger smirk than before, almost like he hadn’t just been nearly comatose in the bathtub a few short minutes ago.

“I’ll let you help mbe put these odn though..” the wolf chuckled, stumbling backward a bit and sitting back down on the top of the toilet seat rather roughly.

Levi couldn't help but chuckle softly at Remi's playful remark, his heart swelling with relief and adoration. He understood that the wolf's attempt at humor was a way to mask his vulnerability, to lighten the weight of their situation.

With a soft smile, the smaller man nodded and approached his mate with the sweatpants in one hand, and the tshirt thrown over his shoulder. He kneeled down in front of the wolf, and gently guided Remi's feet into the openings, carefully pulling the fabric up his toned, trembling legs. Each movement was slow and deliberate, ensuring that he didn't cause any discomfort to the weak wolf.

As Levi slid the shirt over Remi’s head, his fingers brushed against Remi's hot, flushed skin, causing a shiver to run up the wolf's spine. Once the shirt was pulled down over the wolf’s head and adjusted around his torso, Levi stepped back to admire his handy work with a grin.

“Perfect!” Levi squealed, to which Remi couldn’t help but blush.

Finally reaching for the hairdryer and turning it on, its familiar whir filling the room as he positioned himself behind Remi. The wolf's damp hair cascaded down his neck in disarray, strands clinging stubbornly to his flushed skin. Levi combed through the small tangles with his fingers before using the hairdryer to blow warm air through the thick raven colored strands, drying each section of Remi's hair with delicate patience as the wolf sat more still than the leopard had ever seen him.

Finally, after what felt like hours, Levi finished drying Remi's hair and set the hairdryer aside. With a gentle hand, he turned Remi's face to the side and pressed a tender kiss to his fevered cheek. The wolf let out a soft sigh, feeling the warmth of his mate's lips against his skin. It was moments like these that made him feel truly loved and cared for, reminding him how lucky he was to have the leopard in his life; let alone being actually LOVED by such a compassionate, outstanding man, when Remi was so… well, Remi.

“Alright, let’s get you to bed,” Levi said softly, helping Remi off the toilet seat and leading him over to their bed. As they walked slowly through the hall, Remi stumbled slightly, his weakened body still struggling to find its balance. But with Levi's supportive arm around him, he managed to make it over to their bed without falling.

As they approached the bed, Levi noticed that the sheets were still damp from where Remi had been lying earlier. He knew he had to change them before they could snuggle up together.

“Shit, hold on babe. Lemme change these first, okay?” the leopard asked, to which the wolf nodded slowly as he rubbed at his nose with a soft clicking noise and sniffled . With a sense of urgency, he quickly pulls off the old linens in a flurry, balling up the fabric and tossing it in the laundry hamper in the corner. The leopard then rifles through the closet, selecting a fresh set of sheets in a cool grey hue that he knows Remi loves. As he makes the bed, Levi smooths out every wrinkle and tucks the edges in neatly, wanting to create a comfortable haven for his recovering mate.

With the bed ready, Levi helps Remi over and eases him down onto the mattress.

With a contented sigh, the wolf sunk into the pillows and closed his eyes in pure bliss. He couldn't help a small smile to tug at the corners of his mouth at how considerate Levi was being, taking care of him even in this small way. He honestly didn’t deserve the leopard by his side.

Climbing into bed next to his mate, Levi and pulled the covers up over their bodies. He wrapped a freckled arm around Remi's waist and pulled him close until their bodies were pressed together tightly.

For the first time, Remi buried his face into the crook of the smaller man’s armpit, his lanky frame awkwardly tangling into his mates.

“Thanks.. for everything.,” Remi murmured against Levi's chest, avoiding eye contact with the other as he fidgeted with a button on the leopard’s shirt.

Levi sighed softly with a small smile and shook his head. “It’s my pleasure, Acushla. I’d move mountains for you… So making you feel a little better when you’re sick is the least I can do, alright? I fucking love you, Remington Connors— in ways I don’t think you’ll ever understand.” The leopard stated matter of factly, like it was already something well known to everyone except Remington, before kissing his mate’s warm forehead passionately. His lips lingered against the wolf’s flesh for a few moments before finally pulling back to flash a genuine smile.

Nuzzling into the warmth and comfort of the leopard's embrace, Remi returned his mate’s smile before snuffling softly against his wrist. “I fucking love you too, Levi Anderson.” Remi attempted to reply with determination, although he was very clearly fighting his heavy eyelids from closing.

“Get some rest baby.. don’t worry, you’re safe here with me.” The leopard whispered quietly against the other’s temple. Content in each other’s arms, they both fell asleep, their breathing synchronized as they lay intertwined with one another.

Thanks so much for reading! If you’re so inclined, I really appreciate getting feedback, so let me know if there’s something you liked, or even something I can improve on next time! 𖧧 ࣪ . ִֶָ ๋

[writingforatwistedworld]

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, religion, obsession, violence, war (if you look really closely)

Jade Leech/Malleus Draconia-Voicelines about you, the Overseer

Cheering to yourself you looked at the screen, confirming that you just purchased the new voicelines that you were only able to purchase during this event. To say that this event was stressful was an understatement. Heck, even the app seemed like it wanted to prevent you from earning all the materials and exchanging them for the lines of text, the App crashing and freezing whenever there was the slightest inconvenience. It was also very different from what you were used to in this game. Usually it was always light content and a few sprinkles of Angst for entertainment but this time it was like someone took the game and decided to turn it into something that could only be described with “nightmare fuel if real”. With the usual content creators of the game being unusually quiet, if not to say absolutely silent, about it there were no guides to look up, no one seemingly caring to explore the new lore presented. Tapping the screen you finally accessed the voicelines, curious about what they had to say about the individual which was at the center of said event, the Overseer

What is your impression of the Overseer?

A kind yet cunning individual. The sea which wouldn't have been in awe of someone without any reason... Well, I can't deny that I myself am also very curious about them. Goodness, I even dare to say that I feel something akin to jealousy towards the two eels of the sea witch. Why that is? Well, even though these two were following her order they were at the end of the day still following the endless wisdom of the Overseer and whatever their genius plan was. Hah... what I would do to be in their position...

The view of your homeland, what is your opinion on that?

“Thankfully I can say that I am rather satisfied with how we view the Overseer. If we were to have mostly a religious view of them I doubt we would be able to have such a critical view like they do. A thing that is also quite known about them is their free mind. Whereas others were bound by traditions and morale they were able to think beyond those boundaries. It's said that exactly this made the sea witch create her garden. Alovely hobby, wouldn't you agree?”

What would you do if you were ever to meet them?

“I would immediately try to prove my worth to them. I am aware that this might sound rather off-putting to some but I can assure you that I am doing this purely out of admiration which they earned. Everything about them practically screams to be a good leader and schemes. There is nothing more I wish for than to help them with their contracts just as I do right now with Azul. But if there were some kind of annoyance trying to get between them and me... Hmmm... I am not sure if I were able to hold myself together....”

What is your impression of the Overseer?

“Oh, that is a question I did not expect... All I can say is that there is no being higher than them. Even the God of death, the Underworld bowed before them. From what I know the Fairy of Thorns always looked up to them during the war, orienting herself on their might like a sailor would on the stars. It is quite unbelievable but when we take into consideration that they are a God then this is much easier to understand. Sadly, there has not been any sign of them ever planning to descend or anything akin to that. My Grandmother even told me that even my own Grandchildren are not guaranteed of ever meeting them. What a pity...”

The view of your homeland, what is your opinion on that?

“Thankfully I am able to say that I am very proud of it. Many other places see the Overseer at least as a person of high importance, which is not even close to what they deserve, but we know that they are in truth the ruler above all, a God. Simply saying that their actions make them deserve respect is blasphemy. After all, a God is the owner of a world and they are our God. That alone tells us that they do not need to earn respect. They simply deserve it by existing. If anyone would ever dare to talk back go to them the Valley would gladly grind the opposing power to dust. There is nothing in this world more holy than them. Child of man, now that we are already on the subject, if you ever were to visit my home, would you like to attend a church mass with me? They always have something to themselves that makes you feel closer to them.”

What would you do if you ever met them?

“Child of man, as ironic as it may sound, but I am nothing more than a dutiful servant waiting for their masters call. To hope that I were ever to meet them is something I am unable to imagine even in my deepest dreams. But if it were to happen? Hmm... I can not say for certain but I think I would try to be as normal as possible to them. I myself am feared for my power so it might be somewhat soothing if they were to be viewed with eyes that express warm respect rather than fear. But I would never be able to forget that we all are nothing but small threats in their endless woven web. They have a plan, fate as some call it, for us all. We all can just be happy to feel their presence even the slightest bit in our lives.”

[bloodymary83]

“Batman: Death of a Family” by Jim Starlin Would actually make a really good Splatterpunk book.

Spoiler and Trigger Warnings this book is intended for 18+ audiences only reader discretion is advised. Graphic depictions of violence, gore, self harm, mental illness, emotional abuse, child abuse, and adult situations are in this comic.

Not only is the artwork pure nightmare fuel.

If we take out the fact that the characters are the internationally beloved Batman and Joker it drops your expectations of what the story should be and conveys true horror. There’s this guy in an asylum who has stalked and harassed an orphaned billionaire for an over a decade now. The stalker is completely obsessed with the billionaire. His cell is filled with newspaper clippings, magazine articles, personal drawings and a weird shrine with a teddy bear covered in lipstick stains named after the billionaire that the stalker talks to and sleeps with at night. The stalker has concluded that the only reason his billionaire is ignoring him is because he is spending too much time with his family, so the logical conclusion is to get rid of his family. The stalker decides he must prove that he knows the billionaire better than his family and that the billionaire doesn’t show his “real self” to the public and is really wearing a mask around everyone. The stalker wants to show the billionaire his “true self’ in return, so he has an unlicensed plastic surgeon cut his face off and fashion it into a mask for the stalker to wear. The stalker then escapes from the asylum and goes about his plan to make a “Love Letter” for the billionaire. He kidnaps the billionaire’s fiancée, children, friends and surrogate father one by one individually, physically and psychologically torturing them. The stalker failed to have his severed face mask leathered or preserved in any way. During his sessions with each victim his face slowly begins to rot, insects have infested his face, and he has developed a horrid infection, spraying bl**d, puss, spit and bits of decade flesh onto each victim while speaking to them. The stalker then proceeds to enact his love letter by setting an elaborate dinner for the billionaire. Each of the kidnaped victims are set as guest at the dinner table with bandaged faces, a silver covered dish in front of them. The stalker now dressed in an expensive suit, is busily applying lipstick to his severed face mask because he wants to look “good” for his billionaire. Once the billionaire arrives the stalker physically overpowers him even though the stalker is extremely thin with atrophied muscles and a sever staff infection, while the billionaire is in good physical condition with the body of an athlete. The Stalker ties up the billionaire and sets him at the head of the table he calls the billionaire “Darling” and tells the billionaire that he is a king, and the stalker is his humble jester. The stalker proceeds to explain how the billionaire doesn’t need his family just him and that he feels like the billionaire’s family if interfering with their one-on-one time. The billionaire tells the stalker he is insane and means nothing to him, that he never wants to see him again, to leave him and his family alone (the whole classic victim spell that everyone screams at their stalker)! When the billionaire’s family starts to wake up the stalker pulls back the silver platters to reveal all his family’s faces have been cut off and served on plates of ice…eventually the billionaire is able to overcome the extremely thin, mentally ill, gangrenous, stalker with atrophied muscles.) I’m not sure why the billionaire couldn’t before honestly, I guess because of plot development.) The billionaire then goes on to free his family and is relieved to see they all still have their faces. The bandages and faces were only FX effects. The stalker is carted off back to the Asylum and the story should end on a happy note but, just like real life there is no happy ending. The billionaire’s family now acts distant towards him a wedge has been driven between him and the people he loves most ultimately giving the stalker exactly what he wanted in the end.

[evolutionsvoid]

The Arimakki threat remains a challenge to contain, as their infectious members continue to find ways to breach any barriers put in their way. They burrow through the earth, scurry across the land and flutter through the air, always foiling the cleansers who seek to keep their horrid presence sealed away. Their numbers are many, their determination indomitable. The Arimakki are committed to spreading their kind and infesting the land. Yet, their behavior seems odd in some places, and one big question was raised when the coastal communities noted their homes being Arimakki free. While the rise of colonies can seem random, it was soon noticed that no hives were springing up along the coast. As investigations went deeper, it was even found that the colonies appeared to avoid major water bodies. Pools of humors and bodily fluids were certainly enjoyed by the Arimakki, yet places of pure water failed to grab their attention. The places alongside the ocean seemed free of the infestation, as none of these parasites ever really ventured in that direction. This soon resulted in the belief that the presence of water warded off Arimakki, and that this would be the element that could keep them at bay. Folks whose lands were consumed by the fever fled to places of water, hoping to be free of the boiling terrors. There was certainly excitement going around at the time, as it seemed like there was now a weapon that could truly contain the infection. That was until stories from the whaling ships started to make landfall, and a new horror was brought to this world. 

Those who hunted leviathans at sea started to report sightings of a strange new creature found in the waters. Something pale and wormy, yet adorned in fleshy plumes like a revolting bird. The tales speak of the sea boiling and hissing as this great beast swam, its vile body exuding a sickening heat. Only after a specimen was killed and hauled to shore, did the world accept this grim truth. The specimen was dubbed "Arimakki Umi," though the sea folk kept to calling it a "Reviliathan." It is a large parasite that worms its way through the ocean, boiling the waters around it with its Feverish Sweat. When it rises to the surface, the sea boils and bubbles. Five hose-like tendrils whip wildly from its head, releasing clouds of this burning sweat that can consume entire ships. When in battle, it writhes and flaps its horrible wings to churn the waters, making it chaos for those floating upon it. Boats that try to bring it down must kill it quickly, as when in trouble, they will breach the surface and flop their immense bodies atop the vessel. Their wings and boiling fluids smother the ship and crew, dooming all aboard to a deadly searing embrace. Some whaling crews have succeeded in slaying these leviathans and have attempted to harvest some kind of reward from its flesh. Oils, blubber and Feverish Sweat is collected in abundance, but nothing is edible. It was found that the oils and fat could be turned into fuel, but tales speak of terrifying nights plagued by nightmares and wild hallucinations whenever someone slept beneath the glow of a Arimakki fueled lantern. The flame that burns is "unnatural" and those who try to see by its light claim to see pale writhing things in the corners of their eyes, and grotesque faces leering from the edge of darkness. In most cases, the Umi are simply killed and left to rot, with the hopes of slaying these beasts before they can spread. 

When news of an ocean dwelling Arimakki became widely known, many feared that it was all over. It wouldn't be long before these leviathans swam to every corner of the globe, spreading their eggs to every continent and land mass. The Vile Red Tree would soon consume this world, and there was nothing that could be done to stop it. Yet, when folks began to take a closer look at these encounters, a strange pattern emerged. 

All reports of an Arimakki Umi sighting always occurred in shallow coastal waters. So far, not a single ship recorded an encounter with them in the open ocean. And these same sightings kept the Umi to very specific waters, with their range seeming oddly small for such a vast area. Information from the Academy and local sea folk points to these very regions as places where the ocean water is the warmest. It seemed like the Umi cared not for the cold ocean water, which seemed to bizarre for an aquatic species. With this new discovery in mind, whaling crews did their own experiments during a hunt and found that Umi weren't just uncomfortable in cold water, but they actually feared it. A ship tried to drive a Reviliathan away from the coast and into the open ocean, and the beast grew frantic and panicked whenever its body felt the bite of a cold current. They thrash and spit, seemingly losing their minds when coming in contact with the cold depths of the sea. The whalers say that the Umi don't live in the coastal waters, they cling to them. The cold dark bowels of the ocean are to avoided, to be feared. They dare not cross the open ocean, lest they wander too far from the comforting warmth of the tropics. So it seems that while these Arimakki can attack and destroy coastal ships, they are not the massive threat as they were once thought to be. They cannot spread their kind, they cannot make more colonies in other lands, because it appears they despise the very water they live in. While it does give hope and relief, it does also raise questions about the Arimakki as a whole. As an "invading force," it seems like an incredible flaw to their design. How are they supposed to spread if they cannot overcome this obvious hurdle? Why does a simple thing like water perplex them so? What is it in the cold darkness that they fear, that drives them deeper into their warm, rotten burrows?

------------------------------------------------

"Arimakki Umi"

Wasn't planning on chucking one of these things into the ocean, but then came across a rather bizarre map monster that I was surprised I hadn't seen before. Like we see plenty of sea boars, odd whales and weird owl faced seal eaters, but this funky fellow? Almost nothin! A crime! It screamed "Arimakki" to me, so thus here we are!

[bogginswritings]

Sleepless Nights for the Damned || Percival de Rolo x fem!reader

I'm sorry for my absence. I didn't write anything here in the last like 9 months. Writers block and school were killing me. I hope this can make up for it a little bit, but don't expect too much. I practically forced this out. (I love Percy smsm)

Pairing: Percy de Rolo x fem!reader/oc

Summary: The nights were the hardest for Percy. When his mind could wander because his hands aren't preoccupied with anything. He was lucky now, though. He had her.

Warning(s): Mentions of past trauma, Percy's backstory, angst and comfort, panic attacks (Percy)

(idk who posted the GIF, I'm sorry)

Percy wasn’t entirely sure what he looked like anymore. 

He had mirrors, of course, but the reflection didn't always look familiar. He didn’t really know what he was supposed to look like, anymore. Would he have looked like this if his childhood would keep going as it did; happy and joyful? Would the dark circles not be under his eyes? Would he not have the white hair, but rather the brown locks he always had?

He didn't know. But it seemed common, to no longer recognize himself. Wandering alone for years in the need of vengeance, a routine of eating rotten bread from trash cans and stealing apples on the market just so his stomach wouldn't complain; one could say this changes a man.

Percy met a group, and he came up with the name Vox Machina. While this was somewhat stable, he was far from happy. He wasn't even entirely sure why, because he had great and caring friends now. His stomach was always full with food that hadn't already gone bad for at least two days. Sure, the jobs they did to earn some coin wasn't always 'ethical’, per se; but it kept them going just fine. Percy wasn't happy, but he was content. As content as he could get, anyway, for the desire of revenge still lingered and nightmares took over his sleep.

Sometimes he’d kill the Briarwoods in said nightmares,  though maybe those should be considered dreams, he didn't know where they came from. Even during the day he thought about it, a gnawing feeling of pure anger taking over his entire being. He had episodes like this, they’ve become more frequent, though Percy was not entirely sure where they came from. Sure, he was so pissed no word in the English language was enough to describe it, but he didn’t think that a feeling of rage would consume his entire being.

No friend could make this better. No one was there at night to comfort him. They didn't understand. He couldn't blame them, he never told them. It wasn't fair to put a weight like that on their shoulders, to trauma dump when they all have so much to deal with already.

Percy felt hopeless, to be quite honest. Especially when he woke up in a cold sweat and had no one to go to. When he had a bad dream as a kid he would just slide in with his parents, now he waited in bed hoping to fall asleep again or at least have his body get the rest. Sometimes he was just extremely mad when he woke up in the middle of the night, and he’d get to his workshop to tinker.

It was always the same, and it felt like a routine. Just like it was routine for Vex to check Trinket’s teeth and Grog to clean his weapons. However, this was a routine he didn’t participate in voluntarily and he couldn’t get out of.

Once again his eyes snapped open, his breathing heavy. It felt like he had to lift up a brick from his chest with every breath in. Percy shot up, sitting upright to try and shake off that horrible feeling. The feeling he was going to pass out from a lack of air. The feeling he was dying. He tried to stay quiet, but a whimper slipped past his lips. He did his best to muffle it, to be silent. Usually he wouldn’t have to worry about it too much, but usually he was alone in his bed. He didn’t share it with someone.

His body got a shock from another stifled sob. Percy could feel this was going to be a bad ride, one he had to let wash over him. Wave after wave until the storm calmed and it passed. They seemed to be more frequent and during the day it fueled his being more and more with wrath and a desire to kill the Briarwoods. Percy didn’t just want to kill them, he wanted to hurt them. He needed them to feel all the sadness and anger he has felt and-

He tried to take a deep breath, to not spiral into there. Right now he just had an intense feeling of fear and panic he didn’t know how to control.

A gentle touch on his shoulder, the weight on the bed next to him dipping. “Darling?” her gentle voice rang through his ears. He couldn't register everything quickly, but she'd sat up too; one hand resting on his thigh whilst the one his shoulder started rubbing circles.

This was the first time Percy had woken her up with it. Though, to be fair, they had only started sleeping in one bed for a week or so. He knew he probably should have warned her beforehand that this could happen- would happen, but everytime he tried an itch in his throat stopped him. God, he felt like such an asshole waking her up, and that only added up to the bad feeling of guilt he had.

“I-” he swallowed, his eyes darted around the room to find something to focus on, “I’m sorry.”

“Look at me, Percy,” Her voice was soothing, “Focus on me.” He did. It took a while, her words still getting processed in his brain, but he did. Her heart broke when she saw his wobbling lips,  “Good, take a deep breath with me.”

Percy tried, he really did, but it just wouldn't. It caused him to fall into more of a panic, his breathing turning rigid. She asked him for something so simple and he couldn't do it. “I-I can’t- I can't-” Her hand moved away from his thigh, but before Percy could start crying because ‘she was definitely leaving’, it came back on his chest. “I’m here. Can you lift my hand?” She asked, and she took deep, loud drags of air to demonstrate. It took a while, but he managed to lift it slightly. And then some more. “Good job,” Her hand moved lower, resting on his abdomen, “And now? I need you to breathe through your stomach.” Percy remembered she did it with herself sometimes too, a hand on her belly before they went into battle. He understood why now, because once he managed to lift her hand it actually felt like air was going inside his lungs for the first time in the last- what, five minutes? It took a little while before it became a rhythm to breathe like that, but it helped.

The hand on his shoulder had moved to hold his face, he didn’t know when that happened, but he only noticed it just now. The feeling was nice. “Better?” She asked, and he nodded, “Good.” She gave him a kind smile, and Percy just didn’t know what he did to deserve her. She knew exactly what to do, and she didn’t even know what this was about. If the woman was honest, though, she expected it to be about the dragon at first. An intense experience they went through. But they’ve been through worse, and it didn’t seem to have bothered the man before. Nonetheless, she caressed his cheek and held him. Percy never had someone comfort him like this, but he knew he liked it. “We can get out of bed for a bit, get that busy mind of yours on something else for a while?”

“I’d like that.”

And so here they were, at the table of the shared household of Vox Machina. Two mugs of tea stood in between them, still steaming and too hot to drink. They didn’t say anything, Percy was too lost in thought and she waited for him to figure it out. “I’m sorry.” It broke the silence after a while. The woman gave him a look, not one that ridiculed him; rather one that asked why he would say that, “You shouldn’t be.”

“But I am, I’ve woken you up. I should at least have had the decency to warn you about it.”

“Does it happen often?” She asked, worry etched into her voice. She always assumed the dark circles under his eyes were from late nights in his workshop, like the others. He was a workaholic after all. She didn't think there was more behind it. She felt horrible for not asking him, to make sure. “It does,” Percy said, “I should’ve said something, I’m sorry this is pushed onto you.”

“Stop apologizing,” she dipped her finger into the tea, deciding it was cooled down enough to drink, “That’s what partners are for, if you don’t get that comfort then what kinda relationship do you have. Would you have gotten mad at me?” He shook his head, even though he knew it was rhetorical, “Exactly.” She took a sip, Percy following soon after, “If you ever need to talk about it, I’m here for you. And if you don’t that is okay, too. I’ll still be right by your side.”

“I want to talk about it- I do, I tried.”

“Take your time, Percy,” she reassured, “We aren’t in a hurry. When you’re ready I’ll be here.”

He nodded, sending her an appreciative smile, “I promise I will be. Later.”

“Later,” she affirmed, and they drank the rest of their mugs in silence.

…

“I just remembered we have that dinner at Uriel’s,” They were back in bed, the woman playing with Percy’s hair as his head was tucked under her chin. They didn’t cuddle often, but this felt nice, “You excited?” She felt him nod, “Though I’d be more excited if Grog remembered his manners.” She snorted at his response, but she couldn’t find it in her to disagree.

“I can’t wait to have a change of scenery. Fancy foods,” she gushed, “and fancy drinks.”

“It’ll be good for us, to get some respect as Vox Machina,” Percy said, “It could get us better jobs.” She hummed in acknowledgement. That would be nice. She kissed the top of his head, “We should probably sleep then, to look presentable and all.”

“I always look presentable.”

The woman snorted, “You sure do, goodnight.”

“Goodnight.”

That night was the first in a while where Percy felt safe.

Alrightie, hope you enjoyed!

[2n2n]

Little Nightmares....

been enjoying the games Little Nightmares 1&2! Would like to... type some thoughts about LN2. Spoilers for the Little Nightmares series!! Mono & Six's situation... it's a kind of thing I really like!

The more I dwell on the Pale City, & Mono's psyche, the more endearing it all becomes.

First of all.... basic overview and such. he is such an interesting boy. The kind I really like! Described as an 'uncommonly single-minded child. When he sets himself to a task, he rarely gives up before it's completed' believing 'the world outside hates him, and wants him to fail'.... but maybe my favorite way of phrasing him comes from a dev in an interview saying, 'So you can treat him as a shy boy, or someone who doesn't want to reveal his personality'.

at the reveal of Mono as the Thin Man & thus perpetrator of the Pale City & an endless time loop, these traits become ... menacing! He's single-minded! He doesn't give up! He believes he's hated & has to persevere! He's hiding something about himself! I love when someone being 'shy' does not necessarily come from something you can be entirely sympathetic about. I think it is sweet that Mono does not want Six to hate him, fears it, but of course, it is manipulative to obfuscate himself in order to achieve that. We don't quite know how self-aware he is of loops, however! He may only have a vague, bleary, undefined, abstract sense of 'something about me, I have to hide'. Honesty may not be a choice available for him, and the truth manifests even to himself, possibly, as nonspecific anxiety, pure imperative to be secretive.

I really like that 'Mono' is probably just a reference to 'Monophobia' or the fear of being alone ... Unlike protectiveness, or love, fear of being alone would be a relatively selfish motivation (not saying these all don't co-exist in Mono, just saying the Signal Tower likely is seeking something more selfish or toxic). I tend to imagine an entity like the Signal Tower exists to expand & feed off of & broadcast out this sort of feeling, this desperation for control, this warped perspective of a hateful & violent world, enhancing it. It likely is seeking a host as indomitable as Mono, someone who only ever increases their intensity of emotion to get what they want. The perfect endless fuel!! I think Mono has a determination in him that FEW other humans have. I think if he were more easily made hopeless, the world would be better off, HAHA. It's not his fault that he's so persistent it makes him some kinda ideal vessel, though! His heart is kind of pure, like that. It's also fearful and animal.

Lots possible, all tantalizing! Poor Mono, and also poor Six, who can't understand the kind of beguiling going on as she is befriended & rescued over & over, if Mono might not even understand it as beguiling either. It's a bit of a doomed dynamic... well, you can't have any dynamic operating on necessary secrecy, or confusion. It has to explode. She'll have to see him eventually, and Mono will have to see himself....

It's really hard to imagine what the reveal of Mono being the Thin Man feels like to Six, as she drops him (after a long, lingering gaze at his face). I don't think many really dwell on her perspective. I think it's a kind of loss, for her. It's a bone-chilling degree of betrayal, it sets everything they have endured together as... being some sort of deranged performance or puppet-show. What meaning is there in Mono 'saving' her, if everything he is 'saving' her from is something he has orchestrated? If this entire hellscape is of his design (and she cannot begin to know how consciously/willfully), if the Thin Man is Mono, what meaningful protection did he ever offer? What was this world like before Mono's psyche corrupted it? Was it even so dangerous, before?

Even at the beginning of the game, it seems Six has been doodling the Pale Man on her prison wall, haunted by unknown, vague memories. Mono helping take her to the City, isn't so kind, if he's the monster waiting for her at its heart. Probably, both of them equally seek answers, clarity... but as a reveal to endure, it is skewed against Mono's favor, as, in some sense, the one in power. One must sympathize with Six being unable to deal with or understand why any of this is happening.

Six is strung between two self-hating states of Mono-- each with contrasting views of what 'saving' or 'protecting' her means. They fight each other for the territory of protecting Six! I really liked a dev in an interview saying bluntly, 'Six doesn't need to be protected'.

I really like the idea of a savior complex essentially forcing the world to corroborate the need for saving, by making it inhospitable and violent. The Pale City was not like this before Mono.

Anyway, curiously,

Even the Thin Man does not hurt her. I often see him described as vengeful or hating (like some sort of incel lol), but I honestly do not believe this is true. I believe he is sad, and hurt, but resolute that this pain will not stop him from what he is trying to do, which is save Six from her fate, and probably, save himself from loneliness.

She's kept contained in a room, with toys & sweet music... and actually, even Six's original music box-- when first met in the Hunter's Cabin-- contains the Signal Tower/Thin Man's eye insignia, making even it feel like a gift from Mono's psyche, somehow, comforting her in every iteration of this loop. When you think of the world around them, and the Maw ahead... you can understand what the Thin Man, Mono, was trying to do. It's a deformed and disfigured world. The Signal Tower is the safest sanctum there could be. Is this the worst outcome possible, for Six? How did she really feel about it, while living it? We don't really get to know. There are some implications that Mono destroying that escapism was deeply upsetting to her. Whether the Thin Man imprisoning her, or Mono destroying that prison, is the 'worst part', we just don't know .... both seem pretty painful, and worse if they are both the same person. All of it robs her of any agency, autonomy, choice. It's Mono's will being imposed upon her, without explanation.

I think this is well-conveyed in Mono's hi/hey! turning into a booming, domineering, authoritative, painful shout, menacing her from all angles, repeatedly busting open closed doors she is hidden behind, dragging an axe across the floor before her, & swinging it at her sense of comfort. You couldn't really get a more potent visualized metaphor for what Mono is doing to Six. Confusing, hurtful, scary....

Meanwhile, just before that confrontation: Six's soul walks with Mono along the streets of the Pale City while she is trapped within the tower, with a strange whimsy! She balances playfully on a raised platform next to Mono. Why? She's certainly not that whimsical inside of the Maw!!! DOES she like being trapped in the Signal Tower??? baby we really don't know, but I have to take into consideration how unusual it is for Six.

Really do not understand (or sympathize with !?!?!) a common perception that Six is 'ungrateful'... I think with her limited knowledge and view, it's all accosting & disorienting. There isn't reassurance, that anything happening to her is in earnest. I believe it is in earnest, of course, I believe Mono would like to be her hero, and save her from future pain & contortion (the Maw) (maybe the whole world)... but he's so busy fighting himself about how to do it, and of course, he can't articulate anything. We don't know how much he even has the mental capacity to....

well... *closes book* thus ends post #1 .... about Little Nightmares 2.... and in closing, I would really like Six and Mono to figure out how to kiss. I think it could shake things up out there.

[ssahopelessly]

gonna need this in a fic now ma'am (respectfully)

https://www.tumblr.com/ssahopelessly/720685489891540993/hey-everyone-not-that-it-matters-but-i-gotta

Link referenced here! And without further ado…

Pushed Back

Synopsis: Reader has a fear of Spencer’s forehead and it finally comes out.

Warnings: the 100-30 rule, couple cuddles, fear for loss of future, anxiety, angst, guilt, talks of physical appearance, reference to S5, reference to Mean Girls (2004), reference to S12 prison arc, talks of aging, crying / let me know any I missed!

Word Count: 2.1k

Masterlist

It was as close to a normal night as we could come by lately. While Spencer had found the new contingency to his work at the bureau restraining at times, I was just happy to know that for at least 30 nights, he would be home, safe and sound with me. And tonight was thankfully one of those nights.

It was still a work night for him though, as the local college had agreed to let him host a series of speaking engagements for the month. A crash course on Criminal Psychology and the Implications of Danger in a Digital World. A series he had given before but one he was still thrilled to speak on. Somehow though, he had found himself absolutely tired by the time he stepped into our home, immediately crawling onto the couch before even taking off his suit jacket for the evening. For as uncomfortable as I thought he would be, the pure bliss and state of relaxation smoothed over his face calmed any of my anxieties and as he laid between my legs, his back to my chest, I couldn’t help but run my fingers through his hair, combing it away from his face so maybe he could fall into sleep without a whisp tickling his skin. “I know what you’re doing.” He soon mumbled out, settling further into my body.

“What is that?” My hands didn’t stop, but his eyes soon opened to look up in an effort to try and find me.

“You’re trying to get me to fall asleep.” A smile spread over my lips at my Tired Genius Boyfriend and the way he seemed to keep up with my antics.

“Is it working?”

“Almost.” I couldn’t help but hear the hum he let out, one of his hands blindly reaching for one of my mine. With the only hand I had left, I let a finger start curling a small strand around itself, thinking how soft his hair felt then. It was one of the moments I wanted to keep forever. To stay there on that couch with him, safe and sound between my legs in a state of rest. One of the moments I would call upon the next 100 nights where he would be gone and cell phone unresponsive at night due to a case. But just as the hair slipped between my fingers, I could almost feel our future slip away. I tried to hide away the anxious train of thoughts that would start, and so far he seemed none the wiser. I let my finger twirl that strand as I tried to slow the thoughts, but I had been locked out from the conductor's box.

I tried not to think of how he hated the 100-30 policy but it was my saving grace. How every time his phone would ring, it felt one more ring closer to the end of it all. How I had once been scared of our future but now knew it was the one thing I was ready to fight for after so many had tried already to take it from us. How I wanted to see us grow old together, surrounded by the lives we built for the other. How at one point, I was scared the oldest I would see him age to was 35 and he would be forever stuck as he was in those terrible mugshots. One of the mugshots having been a thing made of my absolute fears and nightmares. The most epitomal nightmare fuel. “What are you thinking?”

“Hm?” I realised then, as his voice had tore through my anxieties and stopped that train, ripping daylight into that endless forest, that my hands had ceased fiddling, and if he was falling asleep, it was no more due to the sudden stop of my motions.

“That hand stopped while this hand,” he squeezed my one hand he hadn’t let go of, “has been straining my fingers for the last 37 seconds.” His amber eyes tried to look up at me then, albeit still upside down, but still at me. And while normally I would find comfort in them, I was scared to look in them. Scared he might see a brewing guilt in my iris. Somehow, he twisted his body from me and up so that he could sit next to me, all before moving my legs to drape over his lap. It was his turn now to move calming strokes over my skin, or in this case, a ghost of a feather touch to one of my ankles. It would’ve been as cold as his skin if not for the way the simplest touch always sent a current of electricity through the cells that dwelled at the sight. “What is it?” He cut through the dark again, his voice a calming clarity to the storm. But as they tried to rage on, I could only remember one thing. That stupid mugshot.

And then I realised how vain it must’ve sounded. How after all this time he might reconsider everything if I let this one sentence out. I was overthinking again. “You won’t hate me for saying this right?”

“What? You thought about dying my gray hairs again?” I tried not to laugh but gosh dang it if I hadn’t already let slip my silly concerns for the superficial points of our lives. “Tell me.”

“Years ago…” the eyes that only offered me comfort in the most chaotic of moments still held their own. His bottom lip had slipped slightly under his top as he waited for my words. Reaching for the hand not on my ankle, I began playing with our fingers again. “I used to have the biggest fear of your forehead.” The absolute smile that plastered itself to his lips took over his expression, his eyes crinkling in the corner as he somehow found something to be amused by in my statement.

“My forehead?” He asked through a breath, trying to suppress his laughter but it was already infectious, a chuckle slipping from my lips before the anxieties returned. “What’s wrong with my forehead?” He asked incredulously.

“Forget it.” Spencer tried to pull me closer then and try as I might, I was not as strong as him. He had successfully pulled me into his chest so I was not only forced to look up at him amidst my confession, but we were also now in a 180 of the position this had all started with. The back of his middle finger ran up my cheek bone in a soothing motion as his eyes continued to bore into me.

“Tell me? Please?” The hand that didn't let go of mine had pulled it to his lips so he could kiss it whilst whispering, “What’s wrong with my forehead.”

“There’s nothing wrong with your forehead!” I tried to explain without digging into my anxieties.

“Are you just scared of the brain it’s protecting?”

“You can’t be serious-“ I had started to roll my eyes, attempting to push him off of me. I still wasn’t nearly as strong.

“Then tell me!” He squeezed my hand then, trying to reassure me that anything I could say was worth his concern too.

“I was scared of a lot of things.” I had started, trying to ease into it. Moving my eyes away from his, I found a spot on the ceiling to focus on while our fingers fiddled with the other again. “I have this thing with receding hairlines, that dates back to middle school really.”

“Are you saying I have a receding hairline?”

“Hush.” He placed a gentle kiss to my forehead, and I tried once more to say what I wanted. But my eyes got caught on a photo of us from years ago. It was months after I had started at the bureau, and just after he got off the crutches and cane, he had somehow let me convince him to get a haircut. His hair was so short back then. But his style at the time perfectly covered the subject at hand. “You know in Mean Girls, the movie?”

“Sure?” It was a classic and I had tried many times to get him to watch it, but he always had more fun stopping the movie to either point out inaccuracies or discuss how certain elements of torment and bullying in a school environment could actually have devastating effects on the adolescent psyche.

“Well, Regina George at one point is taunting Cady, telling her to tell her boyfriend and Cady’s crush that his hair looks sexy pushed back.” I watched as his jaw opened, waiting for his response to spill out as his mind tried to remember the events.

“Okay?” Was all he seemed able to say.

“Well… for a time… your hair was not sexy pushed back.”

“Wait- for a time?” Body rolling myself over, I took to sitting criss crossed between his legs now, both of us leveled with the other. That way, no look we could offer could be misconstrued or not seen. That way, he could see me as I got to the next part. “What do you mean?”

“Years ago, sometime around prison, I really hated your forehead. Not for a receding hairline, not even for your beautiful brain.” Our hands were still except for his thumb rubbing comforting circles into the surface. “I hated your forehead for the wrinkles that had started to form. For the reminder that our youth was behind us and we were older and-“ the words were spilling out and it was only with the sudden tears that had started to form and pressure to my airway that I had stopped.

“And?” He tried to prompt me with a sense of hope in his eyes. Concern was also there, but I would never stop seeing the hope.

“And for the fear it showed me. Fear that we wouldn’t get to grow older. That-“ The moment a tear broke loose, Spencer didn’t let it travel far, the pad of his thumb immediately wiping it away. “That our lives could’ve ended in that courtroom. That you would grow old behind those prison bars and I wouldn’t be there to marvel or adore those silly little lines that started forming on your forehead. That somehow, the universe that never seemed to let you rest had succeeded in taking you from me.” My words caught in my throat again as sobs had started to rack my body. Spencer was quick to pull me into his chest, this time giving my tears a place to land against the heathered material. A soothing hand moved up and down my back and the sense of it all reminded me once how my parents would try to calm me. They had lost their magic touch before I had grown to know his, but this was something Spencer would always be great at.

My breathing started to match his movements and soon enough the cries had stopped as my face remained nestled against his neck. My hands had slipped under the jacket though, finding their home joined together on the small of his back. I gave his body one squeeze before a hand had slipped under my chin, gently trying to bring it out so my attention may be redirected toward him. With an ever gentle kiss to my forehead, Spencer ran his thumb along my cheekbone again, a slight moisture having gathered in his stare. “The universe could never take me from you. I wouldn’t allow it.” I wanted to argue. To tell him he could not make a deal with universal fate but something told me it would be a fruitless effort. “I’m not in prison anymore.”

“I know.” Was what I said instead, finding the strength once again to look into his eyes. “And I’m not scared of your forehead anymore.” Running my fingers through his hair, I smiled at the sight. “I don’t even hate it.”

“Tell me,” he started before using one of his own hands to push his hair away from his hairline. “Does my hair look sexy pushed back?” It was his best impression of the quote earlier, said with almost the same breathiness and cadence to match. I smiled then as my hands moved to the sides of his head, bringing his forehead closer to me so I could kiss the surface. My lips lingered in an effort to whisper a wordless proclamation of love before his hands found mine again, his head rising so he could look at me one last time.

“Yes. Your hair looks sexy pushed back.” I couldn’t help the laughter that filled my lungs and forced its way out, soon inhaled into his lungs and taking over him. Arms moving to secure around me, he pulled me into a hug before somehow wrestling our bodies to lay with the other on the couch.

I could’ve stayed in that moment forever. With Spencer safe around me, knowing the universe could not come for us on that couch. Not that night.

-

Thank you for reading!

Originally writter: June 20, 2023

I would leave a link to my asks box but it seems to be broken. 😔

[suitetarts]

reasons to be honest

Astarion x Original Female Character, Dark Urge Tav (Good) Angst, Comfort, Kissing, Fluff (Link to AO3) After Astarion’s confession, Delilah is conflicted but still very in love–which she hasn’t quite admitted to yet. Unfortunately for sober her, she is a sad drunk on a mission after the celebrations in Moonrise Tower. Angst-fueled barbs and comforting words ensue.

Another one shot with my Tav, Delilah. This one happens to make no reference to her features or gender, just that she's a drow with mommy issues. You can go to the AO3 series for the other fic I have for her, or click here.

“Another… please.”

The red tiefling boy hesitates as Delilah’s head rolls awkwardly to the side, the previous shots of liquor clearly hitting her hard. Her piercing red eyes dart to his unmoving hands and then meet his own in a cold glare. With a squeal, he grabs a new liquor bottle from Ketheric’s stores and begins to pour once more.

Another child, a bluish tiefling with tight curls, collecting bottles from the small goblin hovels hidden throughout the first floor of Moonrise, comes marching over to chastise. “Drow Lady, oi! That’s enough!”

“Mmm? I saved your sorry little hides ‘nd you’re cutting me off?” Delilah exhales out of her nose indignantly, easily swiping the nearly full bottle from the boy’s hands.

“Oi oi oi! But that’s s’posed to be mine to sell on the road,” the blue tiefling cries.

The darkness within her, the other parasite on her psyche that pulls her to violence, begs her to reverse her grip on the bottle and crack it open, spilling red across the floor in a viscous new style of carpet. Delilah lets out a puff of air and pushes the thought away with a spot of effort. As she walks away with a stagger, she raises her free hand to wave the children good night.

The various hallways and great meeting spaces that were host to a battle between her companions and the Absolute cultists only a few hours ago is now just a bloody path of stones, one that she hopes will lead her to her bedroll. These cursed lands had truly been a nightmare in every sense of the word. Delilah is hopeful that being one step closer to their goals will allow her some peace and rest. However, she knows that defeating Myrkul’s Chosen can’t possibly help the matters of the heart that tear her from a good night’s sleep.

As the liquid inside the bottle hits her lips, she winces. Blood red and horrendously strong like it was distilled from pure malice. Whoever had decided to keep this in their stores either had something powerfully flavorful to mix it with or hated themselves. Delilah ponders if there is anything in this tower that would be sweet enough to cover the taste, blushes, and takes a decidedly large and bitter sip.

She curses under her breath as she finds herself walking the ramparts of Moonrise, her mind wandering back to Astarion despite the severity of all their other issues surrounding the tadpoles. Delilah continued to mull over their talk the other night and had been unintentionally distant, even though she knew that there was still so much more to say. The discussion replays in her mind once more. Astarion had, at least initially, lied about it all. He had manipulated her so comprehensively, body and soul. He told her such sweet things, some that she recognized as flirtatious tricks, but others that she had come to actually believe. He laid with her nearly every night not because he wanted to, but to control her. The bastard had admitted to her face that the only part of his plan that failed is, essentially, he harbored guilt about doing it after catching feelings.

And even after hurting her so profoundly, Delilah had reassured him. The typical shrill tone with which he joked or complained or flirted during their adventures was absent, replaced with a lower, more melancholy genuineness that she couldn’t help but comfort. She said that she deeply cared for him, that she would stay by his side as he created boundaries for himself. The two had a productive yet brief discussion and she never lied, not a single sweet word or supportive touch. 

All despite her heart cracking down the middle, threatening to shatter. 

Delilah staggers, reaching to the cold stony walls of the tower for support. Her fingers grip the edge of one of the stones and she could imagine it was Astarion’s collarbones. Her nails dig into the sandy mortar for a moment as her temper flares, before guilt and sympathy eases the tension in her joints. She feels justified in her frustration, but he doesn’t deserve her anger. His situation is beyond complicated and she truly is trying to understand it from his perspective. She goes through the situation again, as accurately as she can manage:

After being kidnapped and implanted with ticking time bomb mind flayer parasites, a hot and powerful drow sorceress (with a tendency to murder without warning or reason!) prances around in the wilds of the Storm Coast with a group of equally powerful strangers, including a famous monster hunter and a fierce alien warrior. The sorceress comes across a vampire spawn that has done little else besides use his body to ensnare meals for his master and suffer indescribable abuse for multiple mortal lifetimes. It makes perfect sense that he would use the tools at his disposal to secure his safety with a band of questionable characters. It makes sense to deceive one of these powerful fools into a relationship. It makes sense to target her as the leader of the group. It makes sense to manipulate her until she is no longer useful. It makes sense to try his damnedest to not actually feel anything for her, because gods forbid she’s worthy of real love. It makes sense. It makes sense.

Delilah sighs into the darkness. Perhaps this was not the most favorable interpretation to Astarion’s reasons for pursuing her the way he did. He had admitted that he’d fallen for her, that he wanted them to be real. It was her who felt an implication in his words that he wanted them to be real moving forward and that everything before was never real.

A chill runs through her as she takes another sip of liquor and she decides to focus on finding her way to camp. She rounds the same door twice before going the correct path and finding a host of friendly faces. Lae’zel, Aylin, and Isobel are near the door, with the former two animatedly discussing fighting techniques while the cleric takes the opportunity to rest and enjoy the peaceful evening with her lover. Delilah stops for a moment to listen in before moving further into camp, where Wyll and Karlach speak in a more somber tone around the fire. She almost goes to join them, but Karlach’s heat and ire at the Chosen of Bane the group had seen right before the battle with Ketheric is palpable in the air. Perhaps it's selfish, but she doesn’t want to be angry for Karlach's sake. Not when she’s already feeling so anxious and irritated about her own stupid problems.

Owlbert barrels past Delilah with Scratch hot on his feathered tail, passing close enough to her that she dodges clumsily and begins to trip. Her hands are sent to break her fall but instead catch on the bleached white linen of Astarion’s shirt.

He clicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth before speaking with a coy grin. “Darling, I knew you’d fallen for me but I didn’t realize you were going to take it literally.”

A fierce blush overtakes her, bringing a pink tint to her gray complexion. Her tongue rolls awkwardly in her mouth as she tries to cover herself, “I– I didn’t mean to fall. But thank you.”

“You’re completely trashed,” Astarion observes with amused surprise as he attempts to help restore Delilah’s balance. He steadies her forearms before tentatively letting go. Her red eyes, so similar to his own, beam up at him as she only slightly wobbles. His lips pull into one of those sweet half smiles that he only gives to her. “Adorable.”

“Y’think I’m adorable?”

“We’ve been over this. You’re very attractive.”

Delilah narrows her eyes and snickers, doing her best to rub her hands together like a villain in a street play while still holding onto the bottle of liquor. “Again.” He rolls his eyes and begins to lead her towards her tent.

“This–” Astarion emphasizes as he easily snatches the liquor from her loose grip. “–is for not returning the compliment.”

While Astarion has it hoisted in the air, he inches his nose closer before reeling at the strong vapors of the alcohol. She does not opt to carry herself with the typical pride of a female drow, instead choosing to whine and reach for the bottle. The two are evenly matched on height, but he's a master at using his tricks to keep any item just barely too far away.

“Tut tut tut. You know how this works dear.”

She stamps her foot down playfully. “I’ve told you a million times, ‘Starion. You’re–” 

He cuts her off with a press of his index finger to her lips. “Ah-starion. If you please,” he asks with a shiteating grin. “Do continue.”

Delilah pulls her mouth to a straight line as she groans in her throat, but her eyes betray the annoyed facade she’s trying to convince him of. They’re smiling. She starts again, “I’ve told you a million times, Ahhh-starion. You’re perfectly gorgeous.”

He preens with satisfaction, tossing his hand through his hair for dramatic flair. “Thank you love, you’re quite perfect yourself.”

Delilah hums and turns away, in part to watch her feet as they approach her tent and also to avoid him seeing her as she repeats his words in her head. Her? Perfect? After all the nasty and selfish thoughts she’s had tonight, and every other night since he finally opened up to her? Hardly. Not to mention that falling for some charlatan with a pretty face and a sad life who tells her what she wants to hear is all far too unbecoming for a drow of her nobility and breeding. Her mother would literally kill her three times over for even an ounce of this behavior. It's frankly a miracle that a mistake like her made it to adulthood. And then there’s the whole thing with nearly uncontrollable murderous urges that, only a few weeks prior, had almost cost him his life?! Perfect.

Astarion notices Delilah’s withdrawal and leans forward to see her chin quivering and her eyes brimming with tears.

“Hey, hey, wait.” His voice drops its usual mirthful cadence. She stops, still facing away from him. “What’s wrong? Did I say something to upset you?”

“I’m not perfect,” she whispers just loud enough for him to hear. Delilah kneels at the rugs outside her tent, clumsily reaching behind her ass to take off her shoes. “Also, I think I’m mad… but I dunno.” 

“Mad at what?”

“At you.”

Astarion freezes for a split second before nodding his head in begrudged acceptance. He sets the bottle down and kneels next to her, leaning forward to make eye contact. “Better to be mad than leaving me, which frankly, is what I expected when I confessed what I had done to you. I deserve your anger.”

“No, you don’t,” she says, doing her best to maintain eye contact as the liquor and tears threaten to make her crumble. “Everything you did makes sense.”

He clears his throat, giving himself a moment to gather his response. “I had my reasons, but that doesn’t mean the things I did were right .”

Delilah’s throat contorts as she tries to suppress a sob. All at once, the proximity of the others makes her panic and she quickly retreats into the darkness of her tent. When Astarion doesn’t immediately follow her, she kicks the flap. He peeks in to find her sitting cross legged at the far end, her eyes darting between him and a pillow just out of arm's reach of her.

Nervously drumming against the stiff canvas tent flap as he holds it open, Astarion sighs. “Darling, I’m not sure you’ll be pleased that we’ve had this conversation when you’re so drunk. Maybe this should wait.”

She wipes her eyes with the collar of her shirt. “I don’ care, sit.”

As he crawls in on his hands and knees, his fingers splaying out as his palm leans into the plush of her bedding, she closes her eyes to steel herself. Of their many encounters prior to Astarion’s confession, most of those had been spent here. She was no stranger to the ways of pleasure, but he had brought her to rapture in ways she had never imagined were possible. She had thought of those nightly trysts as an escape from reality, an easy and fun passion to help them both get away from the looming despair of the tadpoles. Just the thought of how Astarion must recollect those evenings makes her own memories turn sour and rotten.

He mirrors her cross legged sit from across the tent, laying the pillow in his lap so that he can fidget with the tassels and flange. He is uncharacteristically quiet.

Was he expecting a scolding, for her to hit him, or some other form of anger, even cruelty? Delilah looks down at her feet. “D’you think I’m gonna yell at you?”

“No,” Astarion says quickly. He plucks at the silver threads of her pillow. “Maybe.”

“I’d never–” she starts, before seeing a fang poke out of his smile and one of his eyebrows shoot up questioningly. “Well, not never, but not about this. ‘Nd I’m not really mad at you. I dunno. You just hurt me–a lot–when y’said you lied to me.” The words seem innocent and childish as she speaks them to her toes. After a pause, she adds, “For months.”

Astarion draws his shoulders forward until his nose almost touches his knees, almost as if he’s trying to make his body as uncomfortable as he feels. “I know, I’m sorry my love.” He looks up at her through his white lashes, a move that could fit right into his flirtatious fop routine if not for the sincerity dripping from his words. “You have every right to be mad.”

“Stop that,” Delilah begs, a smile breaking across her face as she lets out a short sad whimper.

He pulls his back straight once more, looking down before looking back up at her. “Stop what?”

“Stop apologizing and being so nice to me,” she sighs around a smile. But the smile quickly fades. She continues, “And complicated. I dunno.”

“I’m supposed to cut back on the complaints about the niceties you give to me, but you tell me to stop? I thought you wanted me to be all empathetic and sweet to every body,” he says with an air of their usual banter. The pair sit in silence for a moment as the tension once again rises, like a taut bow string waiting for the call to loose. 

“What do you mean… ‘complicated’?” Astarion asks, without hardly using any air to carry his words, staring at the pillow flange’s thread between his fingertips as he unweaves it. She knows that he knows what she’s talking about, in general terms. Delilah huffs as she lays down on her side facing away from him, unable to explain this with even the possibility of eye contact.

“I had a lot of fun when we did, y’know, horizontal stuff. I thought you did too,” she starts nervously, holding onto her shoulders as she curls in on herself. “But now… Gods, I’m so gross. I took advantage of you. And you–”

“Stop. You didn’t take advantage of me.” His voice sounds strangled behind her. She can hear him padding closer to her, slowly. “Please, look at me.”

She curls further into herself. “But you didn’t want to fuck me.”

“Stop it, Del. Stop,” Astarion says sternly, pulling her back flush to the ground. He reaches over to hold both of her shoulders in place as he steadies himself on his knees to her side. His eyes unintentionally drift towards her neck, and she recalls this position, with him leaning his chest over hers, is much like that first night when he fed from her neck. His throat bobs, swallowing his sanguine hunger, and returns his eyes to watch hers. “I tried to explain the other night, but– Please understand me when I tell you that everything I did was what I wanted. My intentions weren’t, uh, always the most proper. But! I did want to fuck you. I want to fuck you now. It's just… not that simple.”

Delilah’s skin is hot underneath Astarion’s intense gaze and salacious words, especially the way his hands grip tighter at the idea of taking her at this very moment. She could almost be satisfied with this explanation if sex was truly all that mattered to her. Luckily for them both, it was not.

“Did you ever want to kiss me?” She breathes the question, her eyes softening under the heat of his presence. 

He scoffs, releasing her shoulders to kneel beside her. He snakes a hand along both sides of her jaw and tenderly pulls her head up as he leans down to kiss her. Her hands fly up to his ears, her fingertips dragging through his curls. He brings her in closer, their teeth just barely feeling the pressure of the kiss, before he pulls away to hover over her face. He lets out a breath as he answers simply, “Yes. Any time you ask.”

“Even at first?”

“Even the most cold-hearted bastard wouldn’t look at a pretty thing like you and not want to kiss her,” Astarion says honestly, although a hint of his flirtatious tone seeps through. 

Delilah tucks her chin into her shoulder, the blush creeping down from her cheeks to her neck and threatening to envelop her whole. She deflects to save herself from burning up. “That better not be a canned line.”

“Well…” His voice cracks and the smile on his lips falters, before he searches her face for some evidence of forgiveness. She still looks like putty in his hands, flushed and pliable. His eyebrows pull together, from pity or guilt or a combination of, as he answers her. “It doesn’t matter, da– Del. It’s true.” He leans back down for a chaste kiss before pulling his hands away from her and returning to a comfortable sitting position.

As he pulled away from the kisses, she did her best to give him a sweet smile but it didn’t quite make it to her eyes. He sighs, laying within reach of her onto his side with his head propped up by his arm. “I’m sure you’re not having an easy time trusting me lately, but… Honestly, it's true.”

She sympathized with his mild frustration. He was saying and doing all of the right things, and they were true, so why was she still upset?

Rhetorical question: she knew.

“Astarion?” She turned to face him with her elbows together and hands gripped at her chest.

“Yeah?”

“I… I think I love you,” she whispers. By the tension between them and the blank look on his face, she feels that the air has been sucked out of the tent. She feels light and breathless, floaty even, at finally putting words to her inner turmoil, and so she continues. “Even though you’re a liar. And I think I’ve loved you for a while now.”

Astarion lets out a large breath, rolling onto his back. As he fearfully studies the roof of the tent, Delilah wonders if he’s reliving some terribly sad memories of others who told him the same thing, others that were doomed to fall prey to Cazador. She wonders if it's the opposite, that he’s never been allowed to keep anyone long enough for them to love him. Or simply that he doesn’t feel the same and doesn’t want to hurt her even more. No matter what his reason is, she reaches a hand out to lay in the empty space between their bodies. An offering that she allows him to take or refuse, regardless of how much she wants to pull him closer.

“Del, I– I’m not sure what to say, but I–”

“If you don’t love me back, or you don’t know how, or whatever…” As she continues, the words trip and catch on the emotion pouring through and threatens to burst from her very soul. “Don’t tell me the truth. I can’t, I’ll… But please, don’t lie either. No more lies.”

Astarion rolls back onto his side to look at her, to look at what he’s done to her. One of his hands finds hers in the no-man’s land between them, as the other snakes through to hold the other against her sternum. “No more lies,” he repeats, earning a nod from his crying lover. “I’m so sorry. I’m going to work on, well, me, and as I do, I will become better. Stronger. For the both of us.”

Delilah curls inwards around their conjoined hands, breathing warm but fading sobs onto the cool skin of his arm. “Are we… Are we going to be okay?”

“Unless you or the tadpoles have other plans.”

“Is that a ‘yes’?”

He pauses, uncomfortable still with the concept of optimism. Promises of good tidings she made to him were generally met with a bitter snap from a man who over centuries had the ability to feel hope beaten out of him. But, in this moment, he softens at her, as he always has, and says, “Yes.”

They lay in silence for a few too many moments, just holding each other's hands and sharing a peaceful moment of mutual understanding. Delilah begins to lose the fight against her heavy eyelids. The anger, embarrassment, and heartache all seemed so trivial as she laid there with him on the brink of consciousness. He was right; they would be okay. 

The last thing Delilah remembers is her grip loosening on his hand at her chest, but the lingering sensation of his cool skin on hers. When her trance breaks, she finds herself parched under a haphazard pile of blankets with a certain elf still resting at her side. She gently lays some of the warmest ones on top of Astarion before she leaves to nurse her hangover, just barely missing the way his eyes peek open mischievously. She misses the way he hesitates to follow her, instead choosing to snuggle into her warmth like a reptile to a sunny rock, trying to keep her heat to himself as the stones beneath the bedding already begin to sap it cold and dry.

[aliciavance4228]

Here Are Some Things From Greek Mythology That Are Purely Nightmare Fuel

Note: Long post because Greek Mythology is completely fucked up.

-Many of the monsters:

The Lernaean Hydra (a serpent with nine heads, that can continually regrow severed heads).

The Chimera (a hideous amalgamation of a lion, a goat and a dragon)

Cerberus (a vicious three-headed dog that in some myths had a back covered in living serpents).

Orthrus (Cerberus's two-headed, serpent-tailed little brother), and various other creatures definitely count.

Perhaps the worst is Typhon — father of the above along with the Mother of All Monsters, Echidna — Typhon is described by some writers as being as tall as the sky itself, and having a hundred dragon-like heads, all of which screamed and breathed fire. It's not hard to see why almost all the gods had a collective fear when he appeared, and fled Greece, leaving Zeus to face the creature by himself.

And then there's creatures like Scylla and, even worse, Charybdis, once beautiful women turned into eldritch things of pure horror. Scylla we at least know is horrifying to observe, looking like a giant, beautiful women from the waist up, with a scaled tail below, and the heads of six rabid wolves snapping at her waist.

Medusa, whose face was apparently so frightening that anyone who saw her turned into stone. Much like Scylla and Charybdis above, she also used to be a beautiful woman before the Gods transformed her, except when she was a monster from the beginning.

-Prometheus' fate of being chained to a rock and having an eagle peck out his liver each day. He endured it for hundreds of years before being released.

-Similarly, the fate Chiron faced before he sold his immortality: living forever, with the maddening poison of the Hydra eternally burning through his veins.

-The fate of mortals unfortunate enough to piss off the gods:

Actaeon, a man who accidentally walked in on a bathing Artemis, who turned him into a deer and had him killed by his own dogs.

Erysichthon, who chopped down one of Demeter's trees, was infected with eternal hunger and eventually ate himself.

Phineas, son of Poseidon, was randomly gifted with the ability to perceive past and future. This access to knowledge threatened the gods so Zeus struck him blind and further punished him with starvation by being attacked by Harpies every time he tried to eat. It’s a good thing that Jason came along and, with the aid of the Argonauts, was able to kill the Harpies so Phineas could eat again- some depictions have him so starved that he’s horrifically thin.

So, you're friends with Aphrodite, and she want to marry you, eldest son of Nereus, old man of the sea. That's good, right? Well, dad says no. You tell your girlfriend that, and even though it's not your fault, she turns you into a polyp.

-Ephilatus and Otus tried invading Olympus. They eternally drown in the center of a waterfall, tied by snakes to a pillar, while Fate watches them as an owl. Ouch!

-Some of the evil people whom Theseus defeated:

Procrustes, who tied his victims to a bed and either stretched them on a rack or chopped off body parts if they did not fit.

Sinis who bent down two pine trees with his great strength, tied the hands of passer-bys to the tips of the two trees, and then let go.

Sciron, another bandit, was tame by comparison, but still pretty terrifying—living on a cliff overlooking the sea, he posed as a kindly old man and asked travelers to help him wash his feet. If they accepted, he'd wait for them to kneel...then he'd kick them off the cliff. Depending on the version, they'd either fall to their deaths or be devoured by a giant turtle that lurked in the waves below. Either way, Sciron very clearly did this for fun.

Phaea, who terrorized Crommyon, had a gigantic man-eating sow for a pet that accompanied her on her raids on the eponymous town. Sure, Theseus killed her, but the fact that this old lady had a big-ass pig for a pet should say something about her personality.

-The Minotaur's young victims were imprisoned in the labyrinth and force to run for their lives until the beast catches and devours them or they drop dead of exhaustion, hunger and thirst. It's like the first teen slasher flick.

-The future Olympians were able to live and grow in Cronus' stomach. How exactly? Squick indeed.

-Antaeus the giant, who was building a temple using human skulls.

-A non-mortal prisoner of Tartarus was Arke, Iris' lesser known sister. It was said that during the Titanomachy, Arke had betrayed the Olympians in favor of the Titans and became their messenger. When the Olympians won the war, Zeus not only cast her into Tartarus along with the Titans, he also tore her wings off for good measure.

-Princess Elera was impregnated by Zeus abd then hidden. She gave birth to a giant named Tityos... and died during chilbirth.

It is written that once he came of age he tried to force himself on Leto. Fortunately, Artemis and Apollo heard their mother's cries of distress and killed Tityos by raining arrows upon him. As his afterlife punishment he gets sent off to Tartarus to be forever eaten alive by eagles not unlike Prometheus but without anyone freeing him.

-King Diomedes, who fed humans to his flesh-eating horses. In a Karmic Death and/or Ironic Death twist, he himself was fed to them.

-Oedipus; Imagine marrying your own mother and unknowingly having intercourse with her! Horrible! Then, to top it all off, Oedipus gouged his own eyes out after he discovered all of this. Honestly guys put the blame on Freud for all the "Joe Mama" jokes.

-The rape of Callisto. She was raped (once she realized who her attacker really was and what he was going to do she fought), by Zeus disguised as his daughter Artemis. Callisto was a follower of Artemis and one of the goddess’s favorite companions.In other words, Callisto was raped by a god in the form of her best friend. Callisto is cast out, turned into a bear, separated from her son for 15 years, and upon seeing him after those 15 years, is almost killed by him. (In some versions they are only spared by one killing the other or killing each other by Zeus literally invoking Mama Bear in turning the son into a bear cub, upon which all fighting ceases).

-Athena's birth. The clanging produced when Metis forged Athena's armor gave Zeus a massive headache, and he was willing to do anything to stop the headache...ANYTHING, including go to one of his least favorite people in the world, Hephaestus, and have him split his skull wide open. Then, Athena burst out of Zeus' bleeding skull, fully grown and armored, and letting out a battle cry.

-Her mother, Metis, was fated to give birth to a son more powerful than Zeus. So he turns her into a fly and swallows her whole.

-The Graeae. Dear Gods, the Graeae! Spooky old witches who only had one eye and one tooth among them. They shared both items among themselves and even fought over both! Even worse, some versions say that they were half-human and half-swan.

-Medea. Where to start? First, she killed her brother and threw his diced up corpse into the sea bit by bit to make sure she and her boytoy Jason escaped her father, the king of Colchis. When Jason dumped her for a princess, she then decided to murder the princess with a cloak that instantly turns the wearer into a fireball. She also kills Jasons' future father-in-law, and finished this up by killing the kids that the couple had together. She makes her get-away by flying into the sky on a chariot driven by Dragons. Finally, Medea manages to make peace with her father afterwards by killing her uncle, who had deposed the father as king. She is Nightmare Fuel for anyone who goes through messy divorces with psychopaths.

-Lycaon. He (or his sons, depending on the version) knew full well that Zeus makes a habit of dropping by in disguise to see if kings and hosts behave as they should, so when the big guy did show up, they suspected he might actually be Zeus. So what do they do to put him to the test? Why, kill a child from the next village over and serve him up as food. So Zeus turns them into the first werewolves, in some versions even noting that nothing about their behavior changed.

-The myth of Hades and Persephone has many interpretations, but the original, ancient tale is pure horror at its finest from both the perspective of Demeter and Persephone. Persephone is out picking flowers with her friends and strays from the group when she spots a narcissus, which is really a trap laid out by Hades to ensnare her. When Persephone plucks the flower Hades bursts out of the earth in his chariot and pulls her in while she is vainly attempting to fight him off and screaming for help, but they plunge to the earth before anyone can come to the goddess's aid. Hades arrives in his kingdom with his justifiably terrified bride-to-be and drops the bomb that they're getting married on her while the poor girl is still trying to process the fact that she was just snatched from her home, her beloved mother and everything else she's ever known, and is about become her abductor's wife and queen of his kingdom.

-Hera was a notoriously jealous goddess. While Zeus's infidelities were hardly admirable, her responses to them were nothing short of horrifying. She would wreak cruel vengeance against the women he slept with, including those who didn't know their lover's true identity and even women her husband raped. Not only that, she's incredibly malicious to his children, even though it's obviously not their fault they were fathered by the King of the Gods.

-In the Dionysiaca, we have Typhon spelling out to Zeus all the lovely things he plans on doing to the Olympians when he takes over.These include, but are not limited to...

Chaining up Poseidon with the same chains that Iapetus is bound by.

Sending a bigger, stronger eagle (possibly Typhon's own offspring) to peck out Hephaestus' liver to avenge Prometheus.

Trapping Hermes in a jar forever.

Forcibly marrying off Artemis, Leto and Athena and letting their husbands rape them.

Forcing Hera to marry him (Typhon) specifically.

-Think about what poor Leto had to go through when Hera found out she was pregnant with Zeus' twins—Hera basically tells Leto she's banned from giving birth literally anywhere on Earth, starts spying on her as she desperately searches for someplace to give birth and in some versions sends a freaking dragon to chase Leto as she wanders. And just when Leto finally found a haven (sometimes provided by Poseidon at Zeus' behest) to give birth, a massive storm happens and the Goddess of Childbirth (sometimes Hera, sometimes her daughter) refuses to help her, leaving poor Leto to desperately cling to her patch of land and give birth, hoping that the storm doesn't wash her away. Fortunately, she succeeds.

-Hades has a helmet that makes him invisible and according to some even intangible (meaning he can go through walls while wearing it). While he IS one of the nicer ones, that does beg the question... How does someone know that he's down where his job is and not, uh, right behind you?