#i spent an uNHOLY amount of time looking for someone who resembled him

[unfortunately-lovestruck]

Hey there! I was just curious is havenfall was live action who would be the perfect cast for the love interests in your opinion?! :)

Unknown

Eva Marcille

Diego Barrueco

Aman Ahluwalia

Terra Juana

Marianne Caron

Corentin Huard

Unfortunately, I don’t watch enough shows or movies to give you actual actors, however, I did find models that I believe look the part. The links will take you to their Instagram or Twitter if you’re interested.

I will stress that all these choices are based solely off of looks, and acting/personality is in no way, shape, or form a factor. I hope you agree with my picks and like the edit!

[lunarsaga]

EPISODE 1: Here Comes Trouble

[[HERE WE GO, BITCHES! Fanfic and Fanart combine to make some unholy mix of Time Consumption that will not leave me alone.

THE LUNAR SAGA, EPISODE 1, START!

Note: the text in the panels doesn't match the actual written portion of the fic ^^; I tried my best but I didn't wanna redraw all of this... ]]

===============

Kagome had been gone longer than she usually was, and Inuyasha was getting impatient.

They’d finally gotten their first lead on Naraku since his disappearance—that he was heading in the direction of the Ox and Tiger (Kagome called it “noh-rth-eest”?)—this was no time for her to be going back to her world! He tried to tell her that when she left, but she insisted that she was going home to bring back something that would help them.

She’d been gone for almost ten days now! What could possibly be taking so long?!

The half demon sat beside the well, seething as he waited for something to happen. He’d been at this pretty much constantly since the day after she left. He had half a mind to follow her down the well to her world and drag her back here; he’d done it before, he could do it again.

“Don’t you dare follow me!” Kagome had said before she left, “I might be gone a while, but I promise it’ll be worth it!”

“Ain’t worth it if we lose track of Naraku because you’re taking so long,” he growled to no one in particular. Obviously, he got no response from the dry well, so he stood up and raised his voice: “HURRY THE HELL UP, KAGOME!”

“Inuyasha?”

Inuyasha jumped from surprise when he saw Kagome hop up out of the well. She sat on the edge, smiling just softly. A little embarrassed that he was yelling at the well, Inuyasha folded his arms and cleared his throat.

“It’s about time you got back, Kagome,” he said. “What took you so damn long?!”

Kagome sighed, still smiling as she set her feet on the ground and stepped closer to him. “I told you, I had to get something. It took a second, but I said it’d be worth it, didn’t I?”

“I hope you’re right,” he snorted, “Because if Naraku gets away cos you took too long over there—”

He didn’t get to finish his thought. He hadn’t been paying attention to the well at all; usually, he wouldn’t have needed to. This time, he would definitely regret it. From the depths of the well came a voice he’d never heard before:

“HEADS UP!”

He didn’t even have time to wonder who the hell’s voice it was. Seconds later, something heavy flew out of the well and smacked him square in the face.

“WHAT THE HELL?!”

Kagome laughed nervously, holding her hands up, “Uh… that would be her.”

Anger boiling and holding his freshly bruised nose, Inuyasha shouted back at her: “WHO?!”

“Keep your pants on!” Came that same voice again. Inuyasha turned his attention back to the well as someone he’d never seen before pushed herself out of the well.

She dressed strangely—that was a given, she seemed to be from Kagome’s time—and carried a large, oddly-shaped bag on her back. She had thick waves of black hair, much longer than Kagome’s, but pretty much the same shade of jet black. Not only that, she seemed to resemble Kagome in a lot of ways, even if she looked much older. They had the same shape of face, the same nose, and the same round, brown eyes—although, if he looked close enough, he could see a strange pattern in this girl’s irises: little flecks of pale gold, asymmetrically surrounding her pupils.

Inuyasha was immediately on edge, his hand going instinctively for his sword hilt. Kagome saw, and shook her head, setting her hand on his arm.

“Relax, Inuyasha,” She said, “This is who I went back to get.”

“Sorry, did my bag getcha?” The girl asked as she hopped out of the well.

“Inuyasha,” Kagome continued, gesturing to the older girl, “Allow me to introduce you to my older sister. This is Luna.”

For a second, it didn’t set in. Inuyasha blinked once… twice… “Your… sister? You have a sister?!”

“She sure does,” the girl—Luna—stood tall, grinning and holding out her hand. As she did, she said something he didn’t understand. It sounded like weird gibberish. When she saw his face, she laughed and smacked her palm to her forehead. “Right, sorry. Still getting used to speaking Japanese more than I do English.”

Once again confused, Inuyasha just stared at her. “In-glesh?”

Luna nodded. “It’s the common language where I live.”

“Inuyasha, Luna lives in a different place than the rest of our family,” Kagome explained, “She lives in a country that’s across the ocean, called America.”

“A-mare-i-kah…” Inuyasha tried to say. “Sounds weird.”

“Oh it is, definitely.” Luna laughed, going to pick up her bag.

“Is that what took you so long?” Inuyasha asked Kagome, “You had to wait for her to travel across the ocean?”

“Didn’t take as long as you’d think, had to visit mom and gramps and Sota, too.” It was weird how casual this girl was about everything. “But I can explain why I’m here and where I’m from once we get to where we’re going, right?”

“Right,” Kagome agreed, smiling as she led her sister back toward Kaede’s village. “You gotta meet everyone else, too!”

“Looking forward to it.”

Inuyasha wasn’t sure how to process what the hell just happened. It was a lot of information in a very short amount of time, most of which he didn’t understand, and all of which he didn’t really like. He wasn’t sure how to feel about a new person joining their group, nevermind that he never knew Kagome had more family than the ones he’d met before. And the fact that she threw a heavy bag at his face certainly didn’t help. (Well… it was an accident, but still. It hurt.)

Well… at least Kagome was back, and the most important thing was that they could get on with their search for Naraku.

~ ~ ~

Alright, time to back up a little bit.

Now, there may have been a reason why Kagome didn’t really mention her sister. Part of it might have been that it would be hard to explain that her sister lived on another continent, but another part might have been that it would be even harder to explain why. And the reason it would be so hard to explain—for Kagome specifically—would be because of their father.

Now, the Higurashi family had quite a long history of shrine keepers, priests, and priestesses, dating back several hundred years. Along with that lineage came a propensity for spiritual magic and a connection to the supernatural, as well as the metaphysical, and Keiichirou Higarashi—father to Kagome, Luna, and Sota— was no exception. However, he had bigger dreams than shrine-keeping.

A bit of a rebel, Keiichirou spent some time in America during High School as a part of an exchange program. It was there, through the family that hosted him, that he found a world that he never would have imagined.

The underground world of Supernatural Monster Hunters.

He spent his high school years in America learning all about it: how to fight and protect people against different monsters, some of them like the ones his father told him stories of growing up. When he returned home, he declared that he’d found his calling, and when he could finally afford to, he would move to America to follow it.

His father worried about the fate of the Higurashi Shrine if his only child were to abandon their family’s legacy. Keiichirou wouldn’t back down, but found when he returned home, that the Hunting world extended even to Japan—not quite to the extent that it was in the States, but he could still find a middle ground between what he wanted and what his father did.

And in the interim, he fell in love and married a wonderful woman named Mei, who accepted his weird, secret world wholeheartedly.

The Higurashis’ first child was born on the first day of November, during a very full Harvest Moon. When she opened her eyes for the first time, the doctor immediately diagnosed her with partial Heterochromia; her hazel-brown eyes were speckled with gold just around her irises, making it look like she had little crescent moons in her eyes. Keiichirou chose her name for these reasons; he’d heard it when he was in America, a name that meant “moon”. Luna.

It was seven years until their next child came into the world: Kagome, named for the eight-pointed star Mei saw on her chest after she was born. Keiichirou was excited when he heard about that; he said that both of his girls had special gifts, and hoped they would one day do amazing things with them.

But another six years passed… and things weren’t so happy in the Higurashi house. Keiichirou had already started teaching Luna about the Supernatural world, where Mei thought she was too young. Keiichirou had grown weary over the years, still longing to go back to America, where the Hunter culture was strongest.

When Luna was thirteen, Kagome six, and Sota only a newborn, their parents separated.

Luna was old enough at that point, that her parents let her decide where she wanted to be. Enthralled by the idea of being a Hunter, she wanted to follow her father, even if it meant leaving the rest of her family.

Travel between the two countries was difficult; Luna was lucky if she saw her little sister and brother once a year. But they kept in touch as much as they could: by letter, by email, and a phone call every once in a while.

Then, just four years after he and Luna left Japan, Keiichirou passed away very suddenly of an illness. Despite her family’s insistence that she come back and live in Japan, Luna remained in her father’s house. She knew, by then, that she was too far into the Hunter world to leave; not to mention that she had Alice (an old family friend, let’s say for now), who had been helping take care of her anyway. So she stayed in America, as five more years went by.

She hadn’t talked to her sister in months, when she got a call from her out of the blue:

“Hey Luna, um… So, I’ve got quite the story to tell you…”

~ ~ ~

So here she was, Luna Higurashi, a 22-year-old American Monster Hunter, standing 500-ish years in the past, explaining herself to a half-dog-demon, a kitsune, a nekomata, a Demon Slayer, and a Buddhist Monk. All of whom were extremely surprised to find that Kagome had a sister.

“Nice to get to meet you all,” She said, “Kagome told me all about your adventures. She brought me here to help you get rid of that Naraku guy.”

“Kagome never told us she had a sister!” The little kitsune—Shippo—piped up first.

“So I’ve heard,” Luna chuckled, crossing her arms.

Sango, the Demon Slayer, looked rather interested in the guitar case Luna was carrying on her back. “You mentioned you were a Slayer too? That must be an impressive weapon you’re carrying.”

“Huh? Oh, no,” Luna shook her head, tugging on the strap. “This is just my guitar. It’s a musical instrument—all my weapons are in my duffel bag.”

While her attention was on Sango, Luna failed to notice the monk approaching her until he took her hand in his. “A demon slayer and a musician! To think Kagome never told us she had such a beautiful and accomplished sister.”

Luna just stared at him, but she could feel the tension rising from the Slayer next to her. It was like standing next to a crackling thunderstorm with lightning bolts ready to strike. But she had nothing to worry about, Luna wasn’t about to fall for it.

“Never did mention me, huh?” She reversed the gentle grip Miroku had on her hand, grabbed his wrist, and twisted it sideways; a warning. “But she did tell me about you. And if you value your hands, you’ll keep them to yourself.”

Miroku laughed nervously, “Ahahaha—ow! Th-there’s no need to be rash! I meant nothing by it!”

The thunderstorm was gone. Sango was smirking as Luna let the monk go. “Oh, I like her.”

Kagome sighed, shook her head and smiled. “Welcome to the group, sis.”

[howlingwind]

JASPER SHIRAZI, who strongly resembles ARIA SHAHGHASEMI, has been spotted in Pandæmonium. The CISMALE is a TWENTY TWO year old NEPHALEM, and has been in Pandæmonium for ONE YEAR. I hear they’re SENSITIVE & POETIC and TROUBLED & SELF-LOATHING. If you’re lucky you may catch them around NYU & SEVEN DEVILS as a STUDENT (CREATIVE WRITING MAJOR) & OCCASIONAL PERFORMER.

product of the unholy union between a grigori angel and a crossroads demon, the grigori made a deal--- their angel sword in exchange for a powerful offspring. the demon agreed, and the deal, like all deals, was sealed with a kiss. but it didn’t stop there...

after birth, jasper was used to replace a newborn in nicu, to be raised by loving parents who would keep him safe until it was time for him to fulfill whatever twisted plan his biological parents had for him.

growing up, there was nothing too unusual. perhaps a few childhood tantrums that left the walls shaking or the ground trembling, but with no one aware of what he was, those things were written off and forgotten about.

he was a fairly quiet, introverted child. he liked drawing, and writing, and had a gift when it came to stringed instruments. be it guitar, violin, bass, chello, setar, lute... jasper picked it up within hours, and a deep passion for music began to grow, as did his parents’ support.

by twelve, he was fully engrossed in music. listening, writing, playing, singing, and idolizing claire rose.

one night out in the skate park with his friends at just thirteen, he was approached by two figures shrouded in darkness. frozen with fear, all he could do was listen as they whispered to him from the shadows. they explained what he was, where he’d come from, just how powerful he could be. they tempted him with the idea of having the world in the palm of his hand, just waiting for him to squeeze. he rejected their visions for him however, and in a sudden outburst of anger, he made them explode.

horrified by what had just transpired, he vowed to never use his powers again, but he knew they would just continue looking for him, so he ran from home to protect his friends and family. he took all the money he’d saved up, and bought himself the first bus ticket out of town.

he was found shortly after by the devil himself, lucifer, working at an arby’s in atlanta, georgia. “running away?” the devil asked when he stepped up to the counter. “i would have expected something more exciting from a nephalem. even if you are a child.” completely unprepared for this, jasper stared at him, wide-eyed, lips dry. all he managed was to murmur, “sir, this is an arby’s.”

lucifer politely encouraged him to take his break, and when they stepped outside, all jasper could think to do was beg for his life. he explained how he didn’t want his powers, resented the angel and demon that created him, and only wanted to live his life in peace. the devil, weighing his options, ultimately decided the boy was worth more to him alive than dead. he explained how he would put an end to the pursuit, claiming to have ended the boy himself, then (magically, not physically) etched enochian cloaking sigils into the boy’s ribs. the only way any angel or demon would ever know of his existence now was if he were to use his powers --- and of course, now that he’d done a favor for jasper, he’d be due a favor in return whenever he decided to cash in.

relief washing over him, jasper returned home, and only a few months later he got to talking with claire (they met and talked a lot on myspace ok? ok) and when his fourteenth birthday rolled around, it was spent jamming with her and their new band.

as their band got popular, he fell into the same bad habits as some of the other members. drinking, drugs, more random hookups than he could count (all mostly to drown out his jealousy over someone else doing the same). none of it ever became an addiction for him though, and as he grew more mature he slowly stepped away from that, trying to help and support his friends in getting their life together. 

still occasionally smokes weed though because he has insane amounts of stress and anxiety over who and what he is, and the deal he made that’s still looming over him. especially now that he literally lives blocks away from lucifer’s club.

when paramour went on hiatus, he finally enrolled in classes at nyu, even though he got started a couple years late.

mostly a songwriter and guitarist with paramour. sings on his own time.

never used his powers again since the deal he made with lucifer. 

a big geek for music (especially punk and rock, but all kinds really), star wars, naruto, harry potter, and skating. and supernatural but that show legit creeps him out because now he’s convinced it’s written by actual hunters and that certain species were harmed in the making of the show.

his wardrobe is 99% black or gray and more than half of his shirts are graphic-tees. 

vans and converse are the only two shoe brands, he doesn’t know what a nike is.

spends way too much time playing ps2 games but he’ll turn on a tony hawk or wwe game mostly for the soundtrack.

his curls are natural ok literally all he does is shampoo and comb it, he doesn’t even condition smh.

hung dong for a music video once and it wasn’t even a paramour music video, it was an ex girlfriend’s cover of heathens by twenty one pilots and he had one of those horse masks over his head.

yes i had to get that in there ok i had the thought and it’s 3:30 in the morning and i was not gonna forget it lol

[dyketectivecomics]

Retrieval, Ch. 9

Read on AO3 or below:

@squiddybeifong its been a long time pardner. (also a note, that uhhh, this one hasn't been edited for italics n such yet, so def preferable to read on ao3, but like.... i cant stop y'all from choosing one over the other lmao. just know that this is Longer Than Usual for ME) 

...

Despite his growing concern, Constantine knew better than to disturb Zatanna and Raven from their meditative state, even though it had already been well over three hours of standstill with no signs of return. They each remained perfectly still and stoic, no matter what obstacles they may have been facing inside of Raven's mind at any given moment.

Of course, there was always the possibility that they could find their collective consciousness trapped endlessly inside of the confines of ill-gotten memories or repressed nightmares. But he was certain, if nothing else, they would find a way to send him a sign of that struggle, and of a need for help, should it come to that.

So for now, he sipped a bitterly steeped tea, and flipped between vinyls of The Clash and Fleetwood. And for the second in painfully short amount of time, he found himself hoping against every instinct that told him otherwise, that his girls were safe.

...

The stench hit, long before anything else in this new memory. The unholy combination of burning flesh mingling with excrement. Zatanna could feel bile rising in her throat, but closed her eyes, and carefully swallowed instead.

She'd already spent so much of this time screaming uncontrollably. Now, a more rational side of her mind began taking over, that logical shut down of the terror that was incredibly unhelpful in a moment of crisis.

After all, this wasn't actually Hell, she found herself reasoning. This was just a memory of it. Nothing would hurt her here.

But everything was going to hurt the little girl that she had followed down this particularly unpleasant rabbit hole.

When she remembered that, pushing past the blinding light and the mind-numbing terror within her, she could feel Raven's presence fully then. And the magician opened her eyes to see the girl's tiny body, curled in on itself in fear. It was instinct, then, running over to the girl and trying to pick her up. A desperate attempt to shield her from the torment that undoubtedly surrounded them.

Only to watch in horror as her own arms passed right through the girl, like those of a ghost.

She tried in vain, to turn the girl around by her shoulders, to grab her face to look into her eyes, anything to get her to focus away from what she was a witness to now.

"Raven, it's not real. It's a memory," she tried to remind the empath, to no avail. The girl's wide, amethyst eyes stared unblinkingly through the magician, and at the carnage beyond.

It was something that Zatanna was strangely familiar with. It was, after all, a kind of rite of passage for a mystic to visit Hell once or twice in a lifetime, if not to be doomed to spending an eternity there. Only if one upset the karmic balance of the universe too much, of course. Zatanna knew that she'd come close to that edge a few times in her life. But never close enough to warrant a lingering stay, never enough to earn eternal damnation.

Not yet, at least. And she certainly hoped to keep things that way.

Of course, she never was brought unwillingly to witness the worst that the Underworld had to offer. That was another reason for this hesitation to turn around, and to fully comprehend the horrors she had tried to save this girl from all of those years ago.

Steeling her nerves, she muttered one more reassurance, "It's not real, just a memory," and turned to see what Raven had seen.

And most of all, to understand.

In the midst of a cliche of fire and brimstone, and as far as her eyes could see, this part of Hell was a little different from the others which she had been witness to in the past. While much of Hell had changed with the modern age, of introducing psychological torture and inducing metaphysical pain upon its new residents to accommodate to changing philosophies and fears, this area bore witness to the most classic cases of torture.

Zatanna tried not to let her eyes linger in any one area too long, viewing with as much detachment as possible. Bodies were being bent into unnatural shapes, before being torn apart with hideous glee lighting up the torturers' faces. Blood and sinew and bile dotted the landscape, rivers of sewage and masses of limbs. The screams, the laughter, the stench all assaulted her senses with renewed vigor, all mingled together in a violent cacophony of displeasure.

And suddenly, she longed once more for the mind games that were played upon the potentially repentant, as she recalled John calling them.

Here, in this particular Hell, there was no hope for redemption, no prayer of peace. There was only slaughter. And here, Zatanna wished once more she could take it all away again.

There were many different kinds of Hell, of course. But being subjected to witness one so violent, seemed nearly as cruel a fate as to endure it for oneself.

Turning away, she focused attention once more on her daughter.

The magician reminded herself, though Raven did not look it at the moment, and while she possibly didn't feel it, she was much older. She was wiser, stronger than the five year old that had tumbled down to this land of depravity. And now more than ever, she needed reminding of that.

"Nevar, esaelp, llet em uoy era ereh," she softly commanded, whispered more like a wish than a request.

Her eyes flashed with momentary awareness, that emotionally turbulent amethyst clearing back into rich navy. But it was blinked away just as quickly, as her eyes fluttered and she shook her head.

"M- mommy?" she looked around hesitantly as she called out, eyes frantic and welling with tears now. "Where- Is there someone...?"

Recognizing that the girl's presence came back even stronger in that moment, Zatanna sighed in relief. She may have been reliving this hell all over again, but she wasn't lost in the memory. Not yet. Not completely.

"Raven, I hope- no, I know you can hear me. I promise I'm not going to leave you. Ouy t'now eb enola ni siht."

A promise, which in this case, acts almost as a self-imposed curse. But then again, all promises, even without added magic, were cursed in one way or another.

Outside of their periphery, as Raven continued to call out for help that wasn't coming, red hot tendrils of fire morphed seamlessly into something resembling hands. They slinked along the ground until they reached the duo, and purposely started to wrap around the girl, unnoticed as she sat transfixed once more by the torment around her.

Zatanna tried calling out to the girl, to warn her of the impending danger around her now. But her cries fell on deaf ears, as those hands tightened around the demoness' small body and dragged her through a small gap that opened up in the ground behind her.

And though she knew it was useless, Zatanna found herself reaching again for Raven's small, outstretched hand, ghosting through it again as she tumbled down after her daughter, and into the darkness.

Only for that same pitch to turn alarmingly bright, when she opened her eyes against a completely different scene before her.

An officespace that could have belonged to any number of buildings in any number of cities, were it not for the completely blank white walls that seemed to stretch infinitely around them in all directions. Painfully white tiles dotted the ceiling and floor, which provided little context to the dimensions of the space. A single doorway, leading to a busy hallway provided no help whatsoever, and she could feel as it only served to raise Raven's level of anxiety as people flitted angrily through.

"Never mind, this is the Bad Place," Zatanna muttered to herself. She certainly wasn't suddenly longing again for the more straightforward torture that had played before them only moments ago, but she could sense the awful anxiety on all sides that must have absolutely assaulted the girl's senses.

Here inside this room, if it could truly be called that, a woman sat at a completely mundane desk with a few rows of filing cabinets behind her. She leaned far back in her chair, feet propped atop the desk with an air of disinterest as she loosely played with curling brown locks and flipped through files.

What Zee finally realized could only be human souls continued fluttering in and out of the adjacent hallway, more than a few tearing out their hair or mumbling under breath about missing forms or incorrectly filed documents. The woman paid them no mind as they only appeared to grow more frantic with each passing moment. One sat at a desk in the room across that hall, sobbing hysterically as she tried to white-out a page over and over, only for increasingly glittery ink to reappear at the top just as she finished with the bottom half. Another appeared to be unsuccessfully trying to deliver coffee, only for it to spill anew upon himself or others with each new cup.

They all disappeared as the woman at the desk flicked her wrist for the door to shut. More than she appeared to be. Likely a demon, then.

With that subtle click of the door, the room became unnaturally quiet, only Raven's quick breaths filling the space. The papers at the demon's desk rustled a bit as she switched between them, addressing, but not looking at, the girl.

"Hmm, let's see what we have here. A Daughter of Darkness. Pride of Lucifer. Spawn of Tr-"

"Who are you?" Raven asked, evidently working up enough courage to address the demon head-on.

"The name's Rybizen. You can call me Ry, cousin."

"Cousin?"

Zee could feel an odd calm that filled the room. The faintest hints of hope tickled at the periphery, and she found herself latching onto that feeling like a life preserver. Unfamiliar familiarity, the small kind of reprieve that must have saved Raven's sanity during this first trip down.

"Sure. Cousins," Ry said decidedly as she kicked her feet off of the desk and shuffled the papers back together, placing them back into the file as she continued, "We're all related here through some kind of convoluted fork-up in our family tree."

She flung open a drawer to the cabinet behind her then, letting it drift endlessly open for a second or two before stopping it. Raven's head swiveled comically to follow it's journey into an impossible eternity behind her, before watching it retract back into the cabinet at twice the speed it had been thrown open with.

"This whole forking place is a Looney Toon, I swear," Zee muttered again, rolling her eyes and crossing her arms over her chest before turning attention back to the scene before her.

"There's no precedent for it, but it seems your father- or perhaps one of your brothers even, it's too close to tell- Someone wanted an audience with you." She rested her elbows at the desk, steepling her hands in thought as she looked over the girl for the first time. Raven stiffened in her chair at the sight of her glowing eyes, like dull coals that sat smoldering as they took in every part of the child before her.

Unlike how Zatanna remembered she would come to look by the end of her journey, at this moment the girl looked fairly well kempt. Her clothes were only partially singed from their descent before, and her bob was only slightly frizzed, nothing at all like the mess she recalled Constantine claimed she had looked upon his accidental summons.

But then again, the occultist was known to exaggerate when it suited his needs.

"And given your status, halfling," Ry said, interrupting the magician's nostalgia, "I don't think you're in much of a position to deny them."

"I... I do not-"

Just as the girl tried to protest, the phone rang on Rybizen's desk, cutting her off. The demon listened carefully to the voice on the other line, eyes shifting back between the girl and her papers, humming agreements or dissents before finally hanging up the line.

"Speak of the devils," the demon smiled wryly before adding under her breath, "-Always did wanna say that, with some irony- That was your brother. And you, my dear, will be seeing him right now."

Before Raven could even open her mouth to protest again, Ry flicked her wrist another time, sending the girl's chair tumbling backward, and the girl herself was flung back into yet another opening, a pitch black hole opening inside of those blinding white tiles that dotted the floor. And Zatanna found herself once again, tumbling after the child as she screamed for help once more.

...

It was when they started to approach the six hour mark, that Constantine started to seriously consider calling in back up. But the question remained, who could possibly be qualified for this sort of ordeal? Zatanna was already the best mortal equipped to handle such a task. Raven had been slowly inching towards surpassing them for quite some time now.

No, there'd be no trying to plead uselessly with Fate. No calling in the Dark for aid that could simply not be adequately provided. And no matter how much John wished he could have followed them in, he knew it wouldn't do to harbor any regrets now.

Not when, as he check both of their pulses, he began to worry as it registered almost too faintly.

But perhaps, in times like this, he could count on at least one old fling to help him out of his growing worry.

Though he knew Zatanna never thought much of the Nightmare Nurse, he was sure Raven wouldn't mind a little help from Auntie Asa.

He set right to work, making the necessary call for backup.

...

Raven remembered it all now. Those days of mundanity that lead up to this awful and unexpected field trip into Hell. The voices of her father and brothers, like tiny, nagging whispers that encouraged her to gather the right ingredients, and coached her through the right incantations. That nagging sense in other parts of her head that told her curiosity would better be satisfied by simply asking Arella or Azar these questions that plagued at her psyche.

All of that instantaneous regret when she realized that all she really seemed to do was fall from one trap into another with each passing moment in this horrible place.

Yes, she remembered thinking in those moments, about being all of five years old and falling so much. Of how little she had been aware of her sense of self and that first fleeting acceptance and understanding, that her actions truly did have consequences. And in between that, wondering exactly who and what these voices were to bring her here to such a horrid place.

She wondered why, despite all of the suffering she could feel around her, why it tickled such a delighted part of her soul to witness it. As if it understood the justice that was being carried through, that most of that suffering around her was earned, and right, despite how horrible it all was.

And she remembered how much that scared her, more than anything she actually saw as it unfolded before her.

And now, at this particular crossroads, she remembered meeting with that first brother. His name spoken too quickly for her to catch onto, especially given the whiplash that occurred as her descent was brought to an abrupt halt, and she was distracted by the alarming change in appearance.

While the demon, her 'Cousin Ry', before had chosen a more human-like form to blend more easily with her human subjects, evidently this brother had done away with even the slightest pretense of offering these souls the uncanny and disquieting comfort. A grotesque cliche of gnarled horns adorned his head, all crimson red skin and glowing yellow eyes that kept Raven's full attention as he prattled on about their siblings 'joining them soon'.

"A shame that Father stayed behind to lay waste to that insipid dimension. It's expanses would hardly cover half of an average hospitable planet! It'd be a waste to send even a meager army of ghouls to torment those inhabitants, much less a demon like him!" he snickered to himself as he prattled on, circling around the girl like a tiger eyeing its prey. "But who am I, to question the ways of Trigon the Terrible!? I suppose, it may be understandable, given the more... personal reasons for such an attack-"

"You... you mean Azarath," Raven gasped in realization. "You mean Azarath is-"

"Being utterly laid to waste? Yes. You would do well to keep up, Sister-"

"Oh, don't torment her so, Brother dearest," a new voice called from just beyond the ring, "The whole reason he was able to steal her away was because she's so painfully young and dull. You would do well to remember that."

"Oh, Belial the Bully! Here to put all the Sons of Trigon in their place!" another chimed in.

A sea of disturbingly familiar voices soon flooded the space, each one raised higher, louder over the rest at they tried to get in the last word. Some of the devils started shoving one another, trying to take what each perceived to be the best thrones in the circle, and growing more violent in their scramble with each push and accompanying threat.

In her minds eye, in a memory within this memory, more and more clearly those last fleeting moments on Azarath before she had been pulled away began to take shape.

She remembered a form rising from the runes she had drawn, a flash as acolytes closest to her were vaporized. That awful gleeful grin that greeted her in welcome.

As those monsters continued their arguing and as their anger fed more and more deeply into her own fragile state, she could feel her emotions becoming undone again.

She could feel that demon lurking just beneath the surface. After being so tightly kept under wraps, so few years of learning to keep it at bay, yet so much training being undone in one awful, horrible moment of weakness.

"Stop. I- I want to remember something else," she whispered, shutting her eyes tightly. A momentary awareness, that this wasn't her reality, wasn't her present. "I want my- my mom. I need-"

She paused. Because it certainly wasn't Arella who sprung to her mind then.

Sapphire eyes that shone brighter than the San Francisco bay. Straight black hair, that always absolutely glittered in the magic of stage lights. A warm smile that could melt the iciest of Gotham winters. And a voice, a strong mezzo-soprano that could cut through the worst of nightmares, that was already a verse through an all too familiar tune.

"Blackbird singing in the dead of night," it continued faintly, voice low and cracking. Raven finally felt its owner's presence reached hesitantly forward to touch the girl's shoulder again. And though the hesitancy she could feel from it now, told her that it should have ghosted right through her, she was pleasantly surprised to feel the warmth of a loving hand against her skin. And the voice continued the verse, her voice much stronger at the reassurance.

"Take these sunken eyes and learn to see."

She leaned forward to embrace the girl, this memory of her, fully into a hug now. The possibility that disturbing the memory would cause untold damage be damned, she knew this was what her daughter needed of her right now.

"All your life..."

As Raven felt her mother's love and concern, she heard her own small voice join the magician's. The song, a lullaby that had carried them both together through so many a tumultuous night. Their voices lilted together in time, in familiar harmony, alto and soprano. Magic and emotion. Mother and daughter.

"You were only waiting for this moment to be free."

As Raven's arms wrapped around the sorceress' body, and held her tight with impossible strength. She knew she had her mother back. And she was grateful all at once for her presence.

"I tried to tell you, Blackbird," Zatanna laughed with tears pricking at the corners of her eyes, "I tried to tell you, that you're not alone here."

"I know. But..." Raven brushed away the tears that were starting to form in her own eyes, quick and careless. "But there's still so much I'm missing here. Azarath's last moments, and my brothers and-"

"And we can get to that in time," Zee reassured her, gripping the young woman tight in her arms and pressing a kiss to her crown, "But please, Raven. Even you have limits. Let's revisit something pleasant. And then-" she turned the empath by her shoulders to look at her sternly, "Then we dive into these memories together, capisce?"

The young mage only laughed, squeezing and opening her eyes again to clear the memory before them. And once again, the world around them shifted.

"I believe you are already familiar with this gallery of moments?" Raven chimed, her tone lightly accusatory as their feet touched back down onto the floor of a Wayne Manor hallway. "Go ahead and take your pick, Mom."

...

"They've been under for ten bloody hours, Asa. I really don't know what else I can tell you," Constantine sighed, rubbing a frustrated hand over his face.

"Their auras are strong, their pulses are fine-" she started, an air of boredom and annoyance slipped through her voice that John was more than privy to.

"It's too long to be so lost like that!"

"And I'm telling you, they're fine. Gods knows, you've spent longer in much worse magical comas. Be grateful that this was a voluntarily induced one, instead of some awful accident-"

"That's the thing. I'm worried they may have run into an accident in there and-"

"Do you want my formal diagnosis, John? Or do you just want an excuse to insert yourself where you don't belong?" the Nightmare Nurse said, crossing her arms over her chest with some finality, and stance changing from bored, to something just subtly more aggressive.

This made the exorcist finally pause, and really consider where his concern was coming from.

"I just... I want to know my daughter is okay. I want Zee to be safe, and," he sighed, "Asa, please. Just give me something I can do, instead of sitting here with twiddling my thumbs and praying for a miracle."

"Didn't know you were the praying type," she said snidely. His pleading look was all that was needed before she opened her mouth to make any more comments. She cleared her throat before changing gears and taking a seat on his couch. "Why don't you fix me something to drink? And I can tell you all about the drama that you've been missing out between all of the creatures of the night that you three have been neglecting."

"Y'know," he chuckled lowly, putting his hands in the air in relent, "That might just be exactly the distraction I need." He moved leisurely to the kitchen, trying to let an internal debate of whether caffeine or alcohol would be best appreciated drown out the worry that continued to nag at the edges of his thoughts.

Zatanna and Raven's bodies were safe. Their minds, as far as they could tell, were in tact. What was supposed to be a simple procedure was taking longer than expected, but all appeared well.

Well enough, for the moment.

[cerberus253]

The Long Aldrich Fanfiction Nobody Asked For (Aldi x Reader(F))

READ IT BEFORE TUMBLR TAKES IT DOWN

Table of Content (If ya just want “certain” parts):

- Set Up, “Only moments ago you were found out” - Meeting Aldi, “Almost like waiting for that request,” - Foreplay, “Aldrich beautifully chuckles.” - Cunnilingus, “Oh yes, my dearest scruple of nourishment!” - Intercourse, “Aldrich licked his lips as he watched you” - Blow Job, “Aldrich leaned back and layed down” - Resolution, “Thou looks as if finished.”

Only moments ago you were found out to be slinking in the once market streets for whatever you could scavenge. Unlike the average resident of Anor Londo, you cannot solely survive on little to nothing, for you are a rare delicacy in these parts of the forbidden land. As far to your knowledge, you are the only living human for miles, and from the reactions of the elite, it is worse than rare. From what you have witnessed, everyone kills everyone who is foreign to these parts, however, when you were kidnapped, murder was not the goal. Death would have been a quick and easy extermination, but you felt something dreadful was being planned for you by how careful they were not to mortally wound your body. You struggled and grabbed anything you could use to fend yourself, but the undead were far too strong and knocked you unresponsive.

Regaining consciousness, you could not see. Your hands were bound behind your back and you had a ringing in your ears. With ungraceful movement, you stir by accident and alert your captors. They placed you on your feet and forced you to walk. By the sound of shuffling, you guessed you were surrounded. You had no idea where they are headed, but it must have been far away from the market because you were freezing cold from the amount of time spent outside. It was eerily quiet, even for this desolate kingdom.

Finally, you sensed the entering of some building. By the sounds bouncing within, it was lofty and elevated, which meant one thing: stairs. You already have a habit of falling down stairs and it has not happened for months, but this lucky streak might end. Using this as an excuse to be annoying, you state the fact to the soldiers, to which they ignored. Eventually you did manage to trip on some steps, and because you were bound, you could barely help yourself to get up. A few more scenes of this the soldiers finally gave up and carried your grinning self the rest of the way up.

The tower was absurdly tall. You felt the air around you grow thin and drop temperature even more. The armored knights did not put you down, for there were more of your worst enemy, until you were directly in front of the door.

Almost like to return the favor, they dropped you on your back with a loud ‘thud.’ Forced to get up on your own, it felt warmer in this newfound building. Pyromancy is a familiar ability, so maybe that had something to do with the sudden temperature change. Prayers are heard from the distance in the echoing halls, and large beast sounding feet are heard mucking about, coming closer. If it was not for the blindness, you would not of been scared of a monster acknowledging you, for you have become so used to terrifying creatures they have become normal, all the way to the point where you are fascinated by the array and colorful variants of beasties; you have even become friends with a couple of them! This one, however, came far too close for comfort. You felt the musky and heavy breathing from this animal’s gaping maw. It must have recently eaten something because you were about ready to vomit by the pure stench of flesh. Luckily, it was just curious about you, and the soldiers had you move forward across the vocal filled structure.

The knights stop you in front of a large wall, which then revealed to be a door once opened. Whatever room you are about to enter was no ordinary living space. You could hear the jumbling and disgusting squish of who knows what, but your best guess was pure bone and flesh because it reeked of it, even worse than the previously met creature’s. The smell was so vile that your eyes watered. A few seconds later, you are unable to smell anything. You could breathe clearly from it, but apparently the stench was so bad it fried your sense of smell. Despite the vast danger that will highly happen, you were oddly, and silently, impressed.

Sloshing through the unknown muck, the captors drag you some feet into the room, forced you on your knees, and then left, closing the door behind them. Silence. Silence was never a good sign. You learned through your years in the monster infested streets that being scared only hinders a person from thinking correctly. Unknown if taught or developed through denial, you make light of a horrible situation. You talk to yourself, beginning with a large sigh,

“So, uh, may I have this blindfold off now? I would like to see this room. You know, to see if it’s as wonderful as it smells.” Despite the unsmellable miasma, you were still curious on seeing the carnage in the room. Anatomy has always interested you, even though you would mourn for an animal being murdered in your sights. Waiting for any noise to occur, you shift your position to something more comfortable and relaxing, for you are terrified, but you know you can deceive yourself from that feeling by sitting criss cross with a forced smile on your face. Whatever comes for you, you want its guard down.

“Hello-o?” spoken in a sing-song voice from your lips. “I would love to meet whoever I have been presented to. I bet you’re really nice!” You knew for a fact this thing was not going to be nice, yet you smiled like the sun.

Almost like waiting for that request, you heard something on the far end of the room. It swashed and churned the flesh on the floor with back prickling success, like it was made from the innards. The commotion made the thing sound immense, yet graceful, for it made a slithering sounding pattern, even though you could also make out the glopping noises of it sticking to the floor. You heard the oozing, the sucking and spurting of muck and the clattering of bones like a wind chime, patiently moving closer to your presence. It stops, and you waited for a follow up response, but there was none.

“Hello! My name is [YNH] and it is wonderful to meet you! Can you get this blindfold off? I would like to see things, please! I wanna check this room out.” Any normal person would stutter and be selective of their words in a situation like this, but staying calm is your top priority and being in denial about the apparent danger is the only way you know how.

There was no answer from the beast.

“So, uh, how about this weather, huh? Freezing. Hope your muckiness doesn’t freeze on you. Boy, wouldn’t that be annoying.” More awkward silence ensues.

“May I see you? I would love to see you! I bet you’re wonderful to look upon.” You question why you say such things during inappropriate situations, but you are most likely going to die, so might as well.

You feel a presence closer to your visage, and by judgement, it is inches from you. Heart racing and ready for unimaginable pain, you regard the sensation of something brushing the sides of your head, and to your surprise the creature took off the blinding material.

“My my, I began to wonder about my next meal's arrival. I did hope it was something delectable, but I never knew it wouldst be so...cheerfully naive,” it finally responded with a tilted expression. Although gurgled and hearing of strain, the voice sounded reagent and light, teetering on the male and female threshold of vocals.

You gaze upon a semi-human creature. The top half is of a taught pale skinned human with long snow white locks. A helm that resembled the setting sun covers half of his lean face, covering his eyes and nose but revealing cracked, yet glossy, violet lips. Royal attire of dark purple and gold hung loosely about his skeletal figure, ending in a long, split ended dress of fiber strands that puff out like a bird’s feathers. Below that mostly normal looking torso sprouted an unholy amalgamation of flesh, muck, grime, and remains, all forming together to shape an elongated tail. You could have sworn you have seen some pulsation.

Noticing you are staring at him wide eyed, he begins to speak again,

“I must give thee praise for thine attempted courage, but false emotions dost not deceiveth the Saint of the Deep. I can smelleth thy fear and it is as delicious as flesh itself,” he says with a smile. Feeling his eyes bore into you as you struggle to keep up your act, you just shrug and smile ‘I guess.’

The masked creature circles you as if curious on what is before him. You watch quizzically and try to read him, but you are only as inquisitive as he is. He crosses his arms with a scowl.

“You okay? What, do I have something on me? Do I not have enough meat on my bones for you, sir?” You really have to stop nudging others like this, it is just tempting them to eat you.

He leans in closer again, placing the back of his hand against your face, tilting his head and yours in the process. You felt a rush of blood go from your heart to your cheeks, but that was only from surprise and fear, right? After a few seconds of what felt like forever of physical contact, he jerked his branch like fingers away from you and pulled himself aback. You were becoming light headed but managed to stay put. Since when was the last time someone made passive physical contact with you? You were shocked and wanted it again, but right now is not the time for such foolishness. Pay attention and see when you can wriggle free from this disastrous situation.

While being distracted with your thoughts, his hands quickly wrapped around your neck. ‘Dammit!’ You thought. ‘Only if my hands were free I could dig my thumbs into his trachea!’ However, you noticed that yes there was pressure, he was not choking you, but rather... feeling for something?

His lips part with a small gasp,

“By the divines, thoust can not be... This is wonderful!” He pushes two fingers where your neck meets your chin, feeling your pulse. His aggressive prodding made you hear and feel your own beating heart struggle to push blood to your head, making it difficult to breath. Enjoying the scene, he cocks his head in amusement and grins,

“In all my years I never thought a single one of you wouldst be in existence still.” The Saint lightly traces your jawline with a single finger, watching you shutter. If he has not interacted with a living human being, then everyone around here must have had a second death in a most gruesome manner, and it seems he was that second death. However insane, his diction and manners say you might be able to talk yourself out of this. Make a deal to bring more food to him? Offer him a bigger treat? Whatever the case, you need to get out of here.

Before you had the time to react, he grabbed the back of your head and slammed it sideways into the grime. He waited for you to struggle and realize you were not going anywhere before he leaned his skeletal rib cage upon your back, positioning his cold lips right against your ear and whispered in a hungrily seductive tone,

“Dost thou hast any idea how long I, Aldrich, hast waited for pure blood, hot with fresh youth, spilling into my mouth? To sink my teeth into that soft skin, tasting every drop of essence in thy frail corpse? Peeling thy veins and arteries as you moan and scream in agony for me?”

With these words spoken, you feel your heart pounding in your throat. Just dying was one thing, but slow death is a curse that fills a slot of one of your greatest fears. Breathing heavily, you held back any wincing and tried your hardest to keep calm. Fear swirled unending in your head, inhibiting the lack of tracks for your train of thought. Aldrich could smash your head in right now, he would break your bones and keep you alive long enough to watch him enjoy your corpse. Despite your horror, your lack of normality within what you call a brain slurs the alarming danger with curiosity and attraction. What? Why? You are into unnatural things that are not others’ cup of tea, but nothing too grotesque. Anatomy and physiology are a personal interest, and you are skin deprived, but could these two characteristics really somehow create an unholy offspring of the ability to get off to dread and gore? Have you become that lonely and numb to violence that you blackened your bar of interest with taboo subjects?

You heat up and sweat with terror and that unnatural longing. Aldrich senses this and demands more apprehensiveness from you, running his boney hand down to your hip, squeezing and piercing your flesh. The warm blood from your body quickly drains from the wounds and you can feel his claws massaging the inside of them. With this bleeding and his heavy breath against your cheek, you want to beg to be touched, but what an ego-centrical thing to ask from a creature that eats people for breakfast. Why would he do something like that? You are just a flesh bag, nothing more nor less to Aldrich.

You accidentally let out a faint mixture of noise of a wince and moan. Oops.

“Ah, so my scarlet swan can singeth. Pray, my dear, continue. The more thou continue, the longer thou wilt live.” His voice wraps around your brain and you listen to the song of the siren. Who knows if he can see the expression on your face, which is that of frustration-- not for the situation you are in, but disappointment that you are into this.

Aldrich scratches into your back with rhythmic circular motions, going up from your hip to the side of your ribs, then curving onto your back and going south to your sides. You struggle in preventing yourself from gyrating to the movements.

With a moan, he speaks again,

“Oh, by the stars, thy warmth is such a specialty for me. I forgot how much I longed for this moment. I simply cannot wait until I-” He cuts himself off, and then proceeds to lift himself off of you, however still pinning your head to the ground. You perk your ears up in hopes you catch a sound of a hero, but alas none.

“But if I continue forth with it, however always being with me forever, I wilt never be able to see nor toucheth thee ever again. I want more than anything to eat and consume so thou wilt never be able to leave, but…” He trails off, talking to himself and sounding worried. “Oh, what a terrible position to be in.”

“A-Are you confused?” You stupidly ask in a cracked tone. Maybe forming a personal connection will convince him to let you go, but at this point if you prevent him from eating you, do you want to leave? He seems interesting as a person, and there is an artistic elegance about him that you want to study… But what are you thinking? This will not happen, no matter how strong your fantasy is.

The devourer turns you over onto your back, still having his right hand pinning, but square on your chest. Completely forgetting to check how bad your wounds are, you are mesmerized by the angle of Aldrich presented to you. He is looking off to the side with his smooth chin between his pointer and thumb. With a calm and collective pose, he breaths steadily. The slight breeze in the room loosens his silky hair and has it fall gently from his sharp shoulders; it seems to gleem in the moonlight, as well as his crowned mask. The room is dark, but moonlight pools in, bouncing off of every moist surface and turning the translucent drapes into ghosts. You can see small white and grey particles floating around as well, which is most likely dead skin flying. The atmosphere within the chamber intensifies the beauty that is Aldrich to you. ‘Fascinating,’ you think to yourself as you study him from head to torso. You want to see the rest of him, but with the position you are in, you cannot. Disappointing.

You still know you are in danger, but your heart is pumping for a different reason. Referencing of how he is, you know he will never consent, but disturbingly you long to hug him and feel his body like he did to you. Hopefully he has a heart you can listen to, following every beat it makes and its changes when you touch him specifically. The mere thought of kissing and biting him makes you weak and moist. And those lips, those violet dead lips-- ‘GAH!!! What the Hell am I thinking?! Knock it off you shit!’ Thinking angrily at those atrocious passions, you bury that inevitable explosion. ‘Don’t worry, me. Once I’m out or when I die it will end. The nothingness will come back and you won’t have these deep dark feelings anymore. Feeling nothing is better than self loathing.’ That last thought made you sad and unable to look upon Aldrich with fascination anymore, only the expression of longing for something you never had.

“Something must hast distracted thee, for thou dost not stare at me with those soulful eyes of wonder nay longer, and the drum in thy chest hath decreased.” Aldrich startled you when he spoke, and you were able to lock eyes with approximately where his would be. In a saddened expression, you dismiss him,

“It’s nothing. Just stupid mental stuff.”

“Now now, stress wrinkles the skin and we dost not require anything such, especially me.”

“Psh.” you sullenly hissed.

“Nay need to gift attitude, child,” he sharply responded. Feeling embarrassed and afraid you might get on Aldrich’s bad side, you generalize what is on your mind.

“It’s just loneliness, that’s all.” You shake your head as you speak, trying to be casual.

“I see. How strange that thy mind wanders to that place instead of focusing on the situation thou art in now. Normally victims art scared stiff, but thy...hm. Impressive.”

While you shrug in apathy, he leans in closer to you. Immediately your heart wants to burst out of your chest, and you accidentally smile and blush, darting your eyes back and forth between him and empty space. His delicate lips form a smile, and strangely it felt more personal than aggressive.

“I want to feast upon thee, but thither is something I feel I wilt miss. Something that even becoming a part of me will never fill.” Seeming like he realized what this now looks like, he pulls himself back again,

“However, I am still deciding, so dost not raise thy hopes just yet. I wouldst like to ’observe’ thee a bit more.” While stating this, he dragged his sharp finger down your torso, all the way to your naval, and you were no longer pushed against the ground. You could try to get up casually and then book it somewhere, far away from this monster, but your stupid affections are keeping you put.

Now that Aldrich has backed away a little, he is now towering over you, giving a clear view of below his hips. The fibered dress looks scratchy, but you would do anything to feel it, to cuddle and stroke the raven black strands. And the tail, that tail. It is immense compared to his body and greatly juxtaposes the human half, but despite the ugliness and filth it harbors, it is fancy. The goop shimmers like running water in the sunlight and the bones are protruding in such a way they look like decoration. Giant ribs stick up from the back to form an inverse cage, almost like spikes. Between these bones are rotting tendons that hang about like silk decor. Boils and skulls poke out from the muck but are positioned like dark spotted patterns going along his form. And everything is speckled with black tattered feathers and tarps, like a destroyed royal hall. You want to observe it further, but now is not the time.

Aldrich beautifully chuckles. However still sounding distorted, your lust for him just makes that flaw even more alluring.

“Thou stare at me with begging eyes, but they art not of freedom, art they? Nay, thou lengthy for something else. Something putrid in the eyes of common folk, but absolute heaven for thyself.” As he says this, he runs his hands up your stomach, across your breast, and cradles your face in his frail hands. Aldrich smeared the blood from your wounds across your body and painted your cheeks with it. Your face flushes with blood beneath your skin when he leaned into you for the fifth time, but he did not stop just inches from your face. He lathers your warm pink lips with the deep redness of your blood and kisses you passionately.

Filled with blood and saliva, you taste the fusion of the Devourer and you in your mouth. It took you a few seconds to realize what is happening, but once you did, you immediately accepted it. Closing your eyes,  you kiss him back.You breath heavily and moan with satisfaction, and he bites your lip to make you drain even more. His silky lips overtake yours as you struggle to be just as aggressive. Becoming lost in the moment and ignoring the danger, you slide your blood soaked tongue into his mouth, licking his. A smile crosses Aldrich’s face and without missing a beat he pushes your tongue back, making his enter your mouth, taking in everything he can and almost reaching your throat. You want to touch him, dig your fingers into his thin skin or run them through his smooth hair. By keeping your hands bound behind, he is still torturing you, whether he realizes it or not.

Aldrich detaches his mouth from yours and begins to kiss your neck, ultimately leading to biting so he can lick the drawn blood. As much as you were enjoying this, you are worried about him puncturing your throat, but the thought dissipated from mind when he dragged his hands down to your breast, squeezing them. He pecks you bloodied kisses down to your collar.

“I demand to witness more of thine illustrious living corpse, and take in all the warm heat thou hast keep locked away.” As Aldrich speaks his words with lustful breath, he tears your clothing off, having no cares if he rips parts of flesh along with it. He takes in the beauty that you radiate. ‘Oh God, yes,’ you thought. ‘Do more, do anything more to me to have me beg for your touch!’ It is odd that everything is happening so fast with someone--something--that you just met, but oh lord, who cares! This beautiful beastie is elegant to be around; hearing anything escape his lips sings a lullaby to your soul, and certainly he is no stranger to appalling interests. If your unfiltered and awkward talk did not drive him away, then there would be little to nothing standing in your way to winning him over now.

Aldrich snuggles his face into your chest so he can listen and feel your heart beating for him. He cradles your breasts and pleasures your delicate tits as you move and embrace his heavy life force against your skin. You moan and nudge more and more, feeling yourself become saturated by the minute. Thinking Aldrich sensed this, he slowly drags his hand southward, grazing your side and tracing your hip. You feel the rough touch of his fingers reach underneath your trousers, lifting up your panties. Heavy sighs are released from your throat the closer he got to your clitoris. His blood soaked fingers mixes with your pleasure fluids, placing his fingers on the inner vulva and rising them to your little plump bulb of pleasure. Quickly you suck air into your lungs, to which Aldrich giggled at your surprised reaction. He lifts his head to meet your pulse and sucks on your neck. Your body moves along with the rhythm of his motions against your clit, occasionally rubbing your breast against his distinct collar bone. The harder and faster you breath, he does the same with his fingers. The rush of energy jolts through your body as he squishes the clit in between two of his bones and switching to circular motions against it occasionally. Finally, you feel it. Your body jerks with anticipation and you verbalize your thoughts, “Oh please, yes!” Upon hearing this, Aldrich uses a single finger to flick and touch your clitoris as fast and hard as he can so you may feel the most pleasurable rush. With a heavy and loud moan, you arch your back once climax hits. Aldrich slows his movements and pulls his face away from your neck, a string of thick blood drips from his smiling lips, which, to your surprise, looks more lovely dressed with you.

You lean in for a kiss, to which he welcomes. He frees his arms and hands and places them on the ground above you. Where you two done? No. No no! You wanted to lavish in this moment for a while longer. Without opening your eyes, you speak in a meek voice,

“More, please… I want more...”

You felt embarrassed about asking to go further than accepting what you have already been given, but you wanted it; you did not ask, you demanded, albeit poorly. Come on, this is your first time. Do not be hard on yourself!

Opening one eye, you see Aldrich��s magnificently grotesque tail swishing back and forth slowly and gracefully in the tar-like fluid. He had a smile across his cracked porcelain mouth.

“Oh yes, my dearest scruple of nourishment! I was not planning on being done just yet, for I hast not been entirely satisfied.”

Aldrich moves back and lifts your pelvis up, slowly pulling off the rest of your attire. A cool gust of air touches your crotch and you can feel the sticky fluids pull away. You watch as he splits the strands and lick his fingers, then throwing your pants to the side. He props you up and unties your bonds, continuing to transfer his palms to hug your thighs. You gently place your hands on his and Aldrich shutters, still fascinated by how thermal you are in comparison and how calmly you are touching him. Staring longingly, you run your fingers through his hair. It is as soft as you thought it was. Aldrich pushes you back so you may lay down, then proceeds to move his face closer to your genitalia.

He kisses your clitoris to give you the sense of how his lips feel down there. After he senses you wince in delight, he belligerently pushes his tongue against the entirety of your crotch, kneading his tongue across it. As this happens, you let out a musical groan of pleasure. He licks and flicks in such an aggressive and loving manner, just the way you knew you would enjoy it. It may not be literal devouring of flesh, but he smooshes his mouth and tongue upon you in mimicry. He makes no jerking motions as his tongue massages you, wriggling and writhing in smooth patterns inside, touching every sweet spot he can reach. Every little touch made from his tongue and lips you overhear the wet and sticky sound of departure. You listen to him swallowing your discharge created from the previous endeavors, along with the blood that soaks the both of you.

After a while, Aldrich focused his oral movements singularly on your clitoris, but he was not finished with the other. Locating your vaginal opening again, he glosses two fingers over it teasingly. Salivating his digits, he pushes them deep within you, puncturing your walls. The pain was sharper than menstruation cramps, but it was bearable, especially with your sense of tenacity with adornment.You lay there with closed eyes, focusing on the amorous vitality those slender fingers are granting you. With all his pressure inducement, he pushes you back and forth, your curves and chest shaking along with the rhythm. Every time he pulls you he grips your pelvic bone. Looking up, he sees your content face and watches your body move along with him.

Pulling out to daub your vulva, he absolutely enjoys teasing you. Seeing you so happy, he lifts his hand, waiting and watching. Growing worried, you lean up and, almost immediately, fear crept in again. Did you do something wrong? Did somehow someone stab Aldrich? ‘No,’ you thought, ‘something like that wouldn’t have happened so quickly.’ Checking to see if he is still there, you are greeted with a sly smile and a light giggle.

“Dost not fret, I am still here.”

You smile and shake your head, relaxing.

Aldrich pushes his fingers in again and shakes you more violently now. He wants more sound from your throat and sustenance from your body, and thus you do what he requests. You reach the same point again, but the build up was much more intense. You clenched the ground and gasped for air, and before you knew it, the milky white fluid of squirting released itself from your cervix.

Stunned by how much came out, you look at Aldrich for judgement. He only glanced at his hand, which is now mixed with blood and ejaculation fluids, turning pink a little. As you sweat profusely, he ingests his soft hot meal. It almost looks like he is staring at you, but you never can tell with that golden crest on his face.

So much has happened in the last hour with being around this man. At first you thought you were dinner, and now you have just become the consenting play thing for a monster. After two climaxes, you think you are done. With the accumulation loss of blood, water, and energy all around, you just want to lay down and rest for a while. Could you go again? I guess you will have to wait and see if Aldrich does something to cause that puffy lust again.

Contenting sighs relieve from your beloved monster. As he rolls over onto his back, he puts his hands behind his head and stares at you with his rose stained mouth. You lay on your side and clasp your hands together to rest your cheek upon. Observing him intensely, you notice squirming movements underneath his lower plumage. At first you did not recognize what was happening, but then once the cylinder-esque organ arrived, it dawned on you he is manipulating his mucky lower half to copy that of an inhuman cock. This mimicry is fat and thick, pulsating with the grime it is made out of. The tip is sharp yet rounded and its circumference increases as it meets the body, however, it forms what looks like to be a plump knot at the base. Tiny bumps of various sizes line around the attachment point and gradually forms then fades up the dorsal of his shaft. Two small parallel fin strands run up from his knot to his head under his ventral half. Lastly, like a faded beacon, his tip has a mauve tint, standing out and looking lovingly sickly.

Aldrich licked his lips as he watched you stare and decide what to do with his gift. Growing impatient, he moves his hand down to run it between his fingers in an urge to have you come closer. Of course it works and you crawl towards him. He adoringly brushes his finger against your hot cheek once you are in close range.

“I’m...going to screw up.” You honestly did not want to bring down the mood, but you felt like you had to warn him so he is not so disappointed in you; it felt wrong to mask this thought.

“Tush tush, mine own dearest,” he speaks as he lifts himself from his back. Aldrich helps you on top of him. He is not too wide, but your feet barely touch the ground, so you settle with planting them on protruding bones. Cupping your backside, he hoists you up, and you take his cock and feel for your opening. Once found, you gently slide it into your tight pussy, and because this is your first time at intercourse, you struggle to fit him in all the way, but you would be damned if you did not have this creature inside of you, so you bare the pain. Feeling every inch of him push and rub against your vagina was like heaven, especially when his head forced itself against the highest point of your uterus, making you squirm. You never had anything like this enter you, and so when your opening attempted to pucker but was stopped, you really felt the massivity of his dick.

Aldrich whispers in your ear,

“All thou needth is to follow the primordial urge thou hast did bury within thy breast, and I am sure thee shalt please me.” Upon hearing this, you bury your face into his rigid chest, trying to find a heartbeat, but there was none to find. He is a dead corpse, just like the rest of them.

Grabbing onto his apparel and pushing your feet against the carbon steps, you begin to rotate your stuffed hips. At first it was painful, but as you self lubricate, the pain subsides and you relish in the love making. Aldrich clenches obsessively to your butt and encourages you to go faster. Gradually you speed up, savoring every stroke your soft vaginal walls make against his stiffness. Your breast and stomach follow and squish the softness of your body onto him, pleasing your hard tits.

With raspy breaths, you gaze to your left to see your monster’s exposed neck. You see his sinewy tendons bulge against his faded skin and you hear and feel his high gasps of pleasure behind your shoulder. All those lines, ridges, and muscles attached and working to form his neck anatomy captivates you. Your lips want to kiss it, your tongue wants to taste it, and your throat wants to consume it. Before you could stop yourself, though why would you want to, you open your mouth to as wide as it can expand and bare your teeth. With as much bite force you can muster, you sink your canines into his tissue. Aldrich, surprised by this action, winces. He digs his claws into you and loudly squeeks, cracking his voice. Not knowing your own strength and scared by the new noise produced from him, you pull yourself back and continuously plead that you are sorry. You did not want him hating you and you knew you would screw up. Oh why does nobody listen to you?!

“I didn’t mean to I swear! I was just--I was just going along with--following what you said about the primordial urge and I just--I’m sorry--!”

“More.”

“...” Your brain is trying to process his answer while you have a dumbfounded expression. So you did not screw up?

“Just...do it again?” asking to make sure you knew what is being requested.

“Do it. Bite me. Drink the drops of sorrow of mine flesh and alloweth to drip down thy throat in pleasure.”

You pause for a moment, then wrap your arms around his neck and shoulders to have a solid grip. Biting down yet again, he groans and squeaks in delight of your hot mouth piercing him. The more he whimpers, the more feminine and raspy his chord’s production become. Usually you would find this noise pitiful and saddening, but this time it excites you and you bite harder, ripping skin away and running your tongue against raw flesh. You move your hand down to right beneath your gut, feeling his thick shaft inside, violently thrusting. With one arm around your back, he pushes you against him like wanting your particles to mix with his, but alas this only leads to more moaning, biting, and the spreading of ruby red blood across each other’s corpses.

Aldrich penetrates your skin as he becomes increasingly ready to ejaculate. He breathes harder and squeezes you greedily, only letting up when he releases inside of you, his throat creating the most beautiful noise of innocent cries. Once tolled, the sensation of lukewarm cum rushes inside of you, overfilling your uterus. You look down and see it seeping out, drooling onto his shaft. Slowly you pull yourself off of Aldrich, watching his semen ooze out and stick to anything in close proximity. Thick filaments stretch from his soaked cock and your saturated pussy as you detach from him. As you sit down, you squeeze his black fluids out of you with occasional thick clumps where some of his rotting flesh came off while cumming. Aldrich mashes his face into yours, kissing, and touching, you again to display his gratification from you.

“Thou hath felt absolutely extraordinary! I take absolute rapture from stuffing thee with my dead seed. Oh what ecstasy!” With every sentence ended, he purrs and kisses you again and again, all the while you cup his face ever so delicately and sweep your thumbs against his cheeks. Every time he kisses you giggle, having him struggle to dance his lips with yours.

“Thank you, thank you!” you laugh.

“I am...so joyous thou decided to stay here and alloweth each other to satisfy the other.”

As Aldrich said this, you could not help but feel he sounded vulnerable. Is he lonely? Does he feel separated from the world? Supposedly he only kept you alive because he wanted to experience your uniqueness longer, but judging how kind he was during the sensual moments and what he just said, which included the both of you and not just him, it sounded like this creature might be exposing his soft side, even if just a bit. The thought released butterflies in your stomach and you could not help but squish his cheeks with the tips of your fingers and rotate them, giving him the smushed lips of adorableness, and rub your nose and forehead against his with loving laughter. He was confused at first, but Aldrich accepted the weird physical affection you gave and laughed along with you.

“Thou art mine now; Mine forevermore. No one shall toucheth nor harm thee while I am still drawing breath, my scarlet swan. I will own thee and thou wilt love me for all eternity, and thus I shalt giveth whatever thee dreams.”

“Yes, I will. I will love you, mon cher,” you reply sweetly.

Aldrich leaned back and lied down with a fulfilled sigh. He laid his arms and hands above his head, relaxing on the floor.

Feeling not only you need to repay him for giving you multiple orgasms, but you are also not done playing with him just yet.

As you watch him lay there, breathing slowly, his chest rising and falling gracefully, your eyes gradually draw down to his crotch. His cock is moistened with his mockery of semen, and because they both are of a deep abyss like blackness, the only difference you can see are the textures: One is a little bumpy looking while the other is smooth as glass. Such beauty in what others believe is unholy to look upon. You graze your fingers against his hips, twitching nerves with every movement made by you. Looking up at him, he is still not facing you, however his breathing has become slightly faster. Aldrich’s cock is so firm against your light touch with the backs of your fingers, feeling all the fake veins submerging out. You touch and squish every crevice at your own pace, watching him progressively dance his torso. Once you have felt him up, you place your middle finger right on the top of his head, making circular motions with the tip of your finger, moving loose skin to make a little crater around his opening. As you do this, he lets out a little noise of smiling giddiness, to which you respond with the same. Underneath your finger some remaining cum squirts out, having you go to squishing his sensitive head with your middle, pointer, and thumb. You bring your hands down to his knot, wrapping your entire hand around his shaft. Starting off slowly, you move along his cock, pinching his head between your thumb and pointer finger. Aldrich practically sounds like you when he was massaging your clitoris, heavy and weak.

Rubbing your pussy against him as you move back, you lean over so your stomach is barely hovering over his body, resting on your elbows. You are scared but excited to try this, and so you begin with giving him a nice strong heavy lick on his head. He has an old umami taste about him as you lick up, down, and around his pulsating pleasure stick. You kiss and graze your teeth against it, having him sound like you when he fucked you with his tongue, high pitched and wincing for more. With every smooch and lick, his semen runs into your mouth and down your throat, having a bitter meaty aftertaste. Aldrich moves his hands down to grab at your hair, motioning you to suck him off, but you refuse just to tease him, continuing to cradle his cock and kiss it energetically.

Moaning and undulating your subtle breast upon him, your mouth makes its way to his head, covering his shaft with spit. You bunny kiss the tip and press your tongue against the opening. Looking up, you spot Aldrich moving in pattern with you, his rib cage pressing up against his pale skin, sticking out with every topped motion. Watching the skin move like rough latex from the bones push you closer into taking the mouthful.

Opening your mouth just enough so your rosey lips slip around him, you slowly stuff him into your mouth, lightly biting down to orally hug him. You are unable to take him entirely, but that is made up with poking him with your tough tongue, making shapes, and massaging your hands against whatever of his gooey cock still exposed. Pulling back, gagging with spit, then pushing him back in, with hot drool and post cum seeping out from under your lips, humming with delight all the way, you hear Aldrich’s sexual groans. With each occasional voice crack made from his tight pipes, you move faster, becoming more assertive and sucking him like a lollipop. His taste may be rancid, but the both your happiness is far too great to stop for some bad meat.

“Yes! Please do not stop. Faster, my dear!”

You sink your nails into his hips of gush, making him twitch with satisfaction. Aldrich’s breathing heightens and you feel him thicken and throb in your mouth. Realizing he is about to climax, you quickly bring your wet lips to his tip and push your thumbs into his veins and tendons.

Before you know it, dualizing with his squeakish howl, you feel this lumpy and disgusting tang suddenly burst into your mouth. Startled, you quickly pull your head back, semen and chunks spilling from your oral cavity. Wine colored thick liquids spurt from his cock. Despite the horrific taste, you still leaned ahead and drank him down. You were definitely going to be sick after this, but let us just focus on the now and burn that bridge when you cross it. As you sip him, Aldrich holds your cheek and strokes your crown like an owner to his obedient pet. He looks down towards you and you look up at him, only to shy your eyes away because you just end up giggling and smiling, being unable to finish your self entitled task. However, when this happens, all he does is beam and pet you.

Finally you grow tired of his taste and sit up, soaked with blood, spit, sweat, and cum all over your mouth, dripping down your neck.

“Thou looks as if finished. Lucky for thy tired little head, I believe I am done as well.”

“Heh, yeah,” you respond, yawning.

Aldrich hoists your plump body up so your shoulders meet. He wipes your neck and chin clean with his apparel, then holds you close and lies down on his side. You gladly accept his post sex cuddles and close your eyes, burying your face into the crook of his neck like he is a stuffed animal.

“I may not consume thee after all, now having a reason to keepeth thy heart’s alive and beating. Thou wilt satisfy me in different ways, I am sure.” Aldrich’s throat vibrates as his cooing echos through you. You have never really said this to anyone before, but maybe you can say this now and not regret it later,

“I love you.”

He squeezes you tighter.

“Good. Thou shalt love me forevermore, even after death. Maybe then, once thou hast died, I wilt mix thy particles with mine so thee shall never leave me.” Aldrich kisses your head.

What a strange way of flirting, this guy has, but it does not scare you away. You felt you can trust him because for some nobody such as yourself to change a devourer’s mind from seeing you as food to looking at you as an actually human being seems like a difficult task for anyone.

“However, I am starved. Thou hast been outside these walls, does thee knoweth of any wonderful spots to snack?”

“Yeah, a few.” Aldrich never stops thinking about eating, does he?

“Sublime! We shalt dine together as loving mates, my dearest.” As he says this, he rocks and kisses you as the both of you lay there in the rotten muck of the royal chamber of Anor Londo, just listening to each other breathe.

--- OH GOD WHAT HAVE I DONE NEVER AGAIN

[sunevial]

The Sorceress and the Sergeant

Why does this exist? @missvulpix212 is why. Blame her for this because it was her idea to commission me to write her a thing and I took the job for some reason (but hey, I’m now offering writing commissions so that’s a thing). Now...how to explain this...

rubs temples

Okay, so, you know my Followers fanfic. Well, one of the characters by the name of Old Priestess likes to write fictionalized accounts of her colleagues in horrible trashy romance situations and then sells them. The Sorceress and the Sergeant is a fictionalized account/probable AU of the relationship between the Witch and the Lieutenant and is absolutely no way canon to my Followers fic.

So, uh, enjoy?

The dimly lit hallways were silent for once, the stressed single mothers and frantic college students somehow all asleep at this godforsaken hour. Fumbling with a key ring sporting more baubles than keys, Marjory clicked the lock open and rammed her shoulder into her apartment door as quietly as she possibly could, forcing the sticky thing to move for once in its unhappy existence. She glanced around the inside, checking the darkened corners for movement or unwelcome visitors, before dragging her partner inside and shutting the door firmly behind them both. Only then did she risk turning on her little side table lamp.

“Sorceress, this really isn’t necessary,” Ollie protested, leaning his back up against the doorframe and giving her the most neutral stare she had ever seen him pull off with those ice blue eyes. “You know I am more than capable of regrowing my own skin and muscle tissue.”

Not bothering to roll her eyes, she tossed her earthy green pea coat onto one of her fold out chairs and pointed to a couch that had seen one too many games of Mario Kart in its day. “It’ll heal faster if I help. So, please sit down and take off your shirt. I need to see the wound,” she said, grabbing a step stool and setting it down in her little kitchen. Rolling up her sleeves, she hopped onto the little box and threw open a cabinet, rummaging through the endless stacks of incense and oddly shaped crystals for the bag hidden somewhere in the endless mess.

With an ever so mischievous smirk crossing his face, he kicked off his shoes and plopped down on the worn sofa. He shrugged off his dark gray hoodie, wincing only ever so slightly as it brushed the massive burn along his left shoulder. “Are you sure that’s all you want to see?” he asked with a smile, tossing the ruined sweatshirt off to the side and inspecting the t-shirt now partially fused to his skin.

“Yes, I’m very sure,” she squeaked, her voice going just high enough to hurt even her own eardrums. Her free hand fiddled with a bit of the sweater dress hugging her body. She could feel the blood rising from the bottom of her stocking feet to the top of her rusty red hair, pooling in her cheeks and making the room go from being like inside an icebox to being unbearably warm.

“According to what I know of mortals, your cheeks say otherwise.”

A tiny shriek escaped her lips, one she immediately pushed down into the depths of her throat. Muttering several curses under her breath, she reached for the black ribbon tied around her head in a fashionable bow and pulled it tight against her skull. Ollie wasn’t the first man in her life to poke fun at how easy it was to make her turn the color of a firetruck, not by a long shot;. he just happened to be the one being in this universe who could make her sputter and curl up into a ball of embarrassment nearly on command, and he definitely not use this knowledge responsibly.

Snatching up a small velvet bag, Marjory dumped out a single spool of black ribbon. Resembling the one in her hair in every manner, it seemed to exist only in two dimensions at any one time. Soul ribbon: a material that could save a life as easy as it could take it, the signature weapon and healing instrument of those who served a certain god who oversaw the endless cycle of life and death. It was a tremendous honor to just have a single strand, much less the ability to manipulate nearly endless amounts of it to her will.

After a bit more searching, she fished out a small glass bottle of shimmering red liquid. Holding it above her head, the glittering bits caught rays of light and scattered them onto the white tiles lining the kitchen wall. She smiled a little as she shook it up, still proud of the fact she had been able to craft a true healing potion with the magic she had been given. As soon as the thought crossed her mind, she brushed it away and stepped off of her box. No, focus; she had a job to do. Sighing, she walked back into the living room just as Ollie peeled the t-shirt over his head.

The smell hit her first, acrid and reminiscent of eldritch horror and hellfire mixed into some unholy union. It looked just about as nice as it smelled, the flesh a sickly green and charred black wherever it wasn’t oozing a substance that she could not identify but was definitely not blood. Biting back the bile rising in her throat, she unraveled a length of ribbon and snapped it with a pair of scissors. “Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad?” she asked, pulling and stretching at the mystical fabric it until it was wide enough to be used as a bandage.

“Because it’s not,” he replied, pushing his long raven hair off of the exposed wound. “As far as acid spitting abominations go, that one was weak at best, considering the most menacing form it could take was a Chinese ursine.”

“It’s called a panda, Ollie,” she said, dabbing a little of the potion onto the piece of ribbon. “One that threw you into an air conditioning unit and gave you a massive third degree chemical burn. That’s not nothing, you know! I’d have to be in the hospital for weeks if I got something like that, not to mention all the skin grafts and blood transfusions and physical therapy for the damage to the muscle structure.”

“I am here precisely because of the fact that grievous injury is much more harmful to you than it is to me,” he said, tapping a chin against his neatly trimmed beard. Before she could blink, two silver wings sprouted out of his back and unfurled against the thin wall separating her from her overly religious neighbors who already didn’t appreciate having a pagan woman next door. “I am your Sergeant, Sorceress. Your guardian. My job is to protect you. That includes getting hurt in your place so you can do your job.”

“It’s Marjory,” she said, taking the medicated bandage and slowly binding up the wound. “And even so, I don’t like seeing you like this.”

“I knew all too well what serving a god of death would entail, Marjory, better than you did when I came to fetch you,” he replied, his voice low and soft but placing a little more emphasis on her name. Shifting a little under the bandage, he gazed at the black ribbon for a long stretch of time. The silence hung in the air between them like a comforting blanket. “I have been protecting mortals like yourself long before you were so much a thought to your parents and will continue to do so long after you move on to wherever it is your soul is destined for. You need not waste your worry on me.”

“But you…you’re important to me,” she said in an equally low voice, winding the wrap under his arm. Her fingers lightly brushed against his exposed skin, soft despite being littered with scars from countless skirmishes against forces she couldn’t name. She tried to keep her gray eyes on patching up her injured partner, but her gaze kept wandering across his chest and down his torso. No longer hidden under relatively shapeless clothing, he was much thinner than she expected, built with the speed and grace of a swan in mind. The heat rose to her cheeks again. “And I worry about the people who are important to me, Ollie.”  

He caught her traitorous gaze and smirked, leaning back as much as he could while she deftly tied up his shoulder. “So I was correct in my assumptions.” Before she could sputter out a defense, he held up his good hand and put it on her shoulder, smiling sympathetically even as his gaze was as cool as his eyes. “You have a good heart. A good, kind, bleeding heart who wants to help the hurt and sick.”

“I wouldn’t be in med school if I didn’t,” she said with a chuckle, her words shaking a little as she tied off the wrap with a small bow.

“But turning that heart on me is dangerous, Marjory,” he continued, keeping his gaze and tone eerily even. “You know that Ollie is just a pet name our other colleagues have given me. You know that if I was ever human, that was long in the past. And you know what I am capable of doing to others…what I am capable of doing to you.” His words trailed off to nearly nothing before he sighed. “It’s best if you keep a heart like that closed around someone like me.”

Marjory held his gaze, memories flashing before her eyes of that first day in the alleyway. She remembered the same steely look in his eyes as he pinned her against the brick wall and pressed a the sharp edge of a knife into her throat, any remorse or guilt for his actions hidden behind years of experience and a touch of obedience to their boss. She remembered beginning to bleed out when ghostly magic erupted from her fingertips, clinging to the wound gouged into her neck and stitching her up as if she had always been able to call upon the endless webs of energy sustaining the world. She remembered his genuine smile as he offered her his hand, saying she had passed the test with flying colors.

She remembered the training sessions, his gentle touch on her arms and legs as he showed her how to more accurately conjure her magics to heal and to help. She remembered the casual teasing and the playful banter between them both as they spent nights traversing rooftops and the realms of the dead. She remembered the nights of teaching him how to sew and understand references to youtube videos and the long conversations over coffee about how strange being human really was as the two of them laughed for hours on end about everything and nothing at all.

“That’s not an option, Ouriel,” she said with a weak smile, laying a hand on his arm as his real name slipped from her lips. “I know who you are and what you can do…and I’m not scared if that ends up hurting me.”

Ever so slowly, he stood up from the couch, reminding her on just how much taller he was than her. He gently took his hand off her shoulder and cupped it over her cheek, resting his palm against her warm skin and turning her head so they looked each other in the eyes. “Is that a challenge?” he asked, the corners of his mouth breaking into a smirk unlike any she had seen before. Chaos danced his irises, flickering no longer with the harsh winds of a blizzard but the gentle winds of an October afternoon. He curled his fingers under her chin, lightly brushing just the tips against her neck.

Her whole body quivered as her cheeks burned with a fire she didn’t know existed in her, one that burned up her body with a bright flickering flame that she knew would not die for anything less than a sleepless night for them both. She didn’t dare look away, instead taking both of her hands and slowly crossing them at the wrist. Letting out a long shaky breath, she pushed herself up onto her tiptoes as the heat spread to her chest and down her stomach. “Go ahead…do your worst.”

A true smile crossed his lips as his other hand reached behind her ear and pulled the ribbon out of her hair, freeing her curls from their prison. As if she weighed nothing at all, he brought her face up to his and sank his lips against hers. It was cold, cold like a comforting autumn breeze, cold like the first snowfall, cold like polished steel, cold but so incredibly warm at the same time. She closed her eyes, letting ice freeze the fire in her body as she fell into his embrace, feeling soft fabric wind its way around her wrists as they sank into darkness together.

[wannawrite]

sweet crazy love [ pt.1 ]

who?: Wanna One’s Ong Seongwoo genre: 🌸🌺 type: bullet point - bc fic would be too long so I broke this into smaller parts  TW: blood, biting, fights, mention of PTSD, depression and psychiatry, supernatural experimentation - poison 

blog navigator. part one / two 

part two

vamp! AU

experiments don’t always work out.... and when they don’t, they go to the psychiatrist 

that sounds dark already ^ it gets better, I promise! please do not read if this is triggering!!! thank you for requesting this anon, aha you asked twice/two anons, so cute sorry I’m never on here anymore :( this week was rough and next week, I have tests all week until CNY.

- Admin L 

disclaimer: pictures used do not belong to me and credit goes to their original owners. 

everything written here is purely fictional. 

you never found out why there was always this boy who would glare at you with the most menacing eyes from across the hall 

 behind his locker in the hallway 

in the cafeteria  

across the hall when your paths crossed

from his seat in a classroom, you were merely walking by 

his eyes held such fire and flames it seemed like they were going to roast you alive 

sadly, you never got a name or a reason 

all you knew was how his face looked like and he was downright gorgeous 

even when he looked like he had -4 hours of sleep every day without fail, with those purple and bruised eye bags forming under his inky black orbs 

he always seemed to be thirsty, running his tongue over plump lips, a finger toying with his bottom lip, yearning for a drink 

but you never knew what 

honestly, it did bug you from time to time since he kept glaring but never confronted you on anything 

besides, whenever you moved to talk to him, he would only vanish into thin air, as if he was never there in the first place 

however, he would be seen drinking chocolate milk with his best friends a while later 

you just figured you probably punched his nose in kindergarten, never apologised, he never forgave you and that’s why he held such a huge grudge against you 

he also tried to avoid you at all costs, at least it was good that there were no joint classes 

how childish, you often thought. It’s high school, he should grow up a little 

if he is mad at me, shouldn’t he at least try to talk it out instead of just glaring at me all the time? I can’t exactly read his damn mind 

well,,, he could 

the years wore on like that, as in, you ignoring his icy stares and trying not to be bothered by them. Seongwoo continued to slink in the shadows, keeping a low profile 

in fact, he became a prominent factor in your life. Your friends even nicknamed him. 

you wondered how this mysterious brooding bad boy constantly hung out with Hwang Minhyun, the school’s beloved prince 

in fact, that guy was the only best friend Minhyun seemed to have from high school 

you rarely saw that guy at school functions, maybe once or twice at the homecoming game but never at dances or anniversaries. You figured he wasn’t one for those 

Senior year changed a couple of things...

you had a study period in the study hall with him. Curiosity piqued in you

but contrary to your expectations, the mystery boy seemed to dwell in darker ends of the study hall, plugging into his own music and diligently taking his own notes in black ink 

he paid no attention to the world around him, absorbed in his textbooks 

you started to realise as the days passed, he seemed more beat up than the previous day 

physically 

the bruises framing his eyes darker and he seemed exhausted of all energy. 

He wore long-sleeved sweaters, you wondered what he was hiding 

your classmate seemed more quiet, sticking only to himself, he seemed more wary of others 

however, that only lasted for a week before he returned to his usual self, chatting with his friends and sipping more strange looking juice boxes that didn’t resemble his typical chocolate milk

but who were you to judge? And since when did you ever pay so much attention to detail? 

were you intrigued by him? 

you shuddered and spun away, forcing yourself to tune in to other, more relevant things 

finally, graduation rolled around the corner

Ong Seongwoo 

you caught his name from the roll call don’t judge

he was just too SECRETIVE otherwise 

even with his name, there wasn’t much you deduced from the school gossip realm 

he just drank peculiar coloured juices to ‘keep his skin youthful and preserve his clear skin’ 

Seongwoo N E V E R left the safety of a building into the sun without slathering on an unholy amount of specialised sunscreen 

if he had PE that day, he would bring two different types of nutritional juice and only shares his f&b with Minhyun 

no one dared to get close to him 

or rather, he was just too problematic to get close to 

it appeared he only appreciated his friends he had known since diaper days and that everyone else had to go through a selection to enter his circle 

okay so graduation 

it’s one of the most exciting days in your life and you couldn’t be gladder to graduate with a 4.0GPA 

also, you’re determined to fix things with Seongwoo on the very last day of school, might as well right? 

right after the valedictorian’s - minhyun - speech, you scan the hall to find Seongwoo as the closing speech is given by your principal 

he’s there in his seat 

the speech ends, you’re out of your chair, moving through the crowd of students throwing caps to where he was seated 

but he isn’t there,,, not anymore at least 

the girl beside him said he just took off, along with Minhyun 

before you can register what happened, your feet take your along a corridor, maybe down a couple of flights of stairs 

right to the old lacrosse locker room which was under construction works 

why the hell would you walk here? you don’t even know where it is by memory 

perhaps because you could hear two roaring voices, one calm and collected while the other panicked and raging 

‘calm down, you need to get your shit together Seongwoo. Breathe!’ Minhyun instructs, a growl in his tone 

pressing an ear against the door, all you hear are strangled cries from Seongwoo 

you wonder if you should call the police 

‘CONTROL YOURSELF SEONGWOO!’ 

yup, that doesn’t sound shady at all

‘the side effects have been getting worse....’ you hear Minhyun mutter to himself, a rustle of plastic or paper following suit 

the shower runs, someone seems to be spamming the knobs. All grows quiet.

you don’t even realise you’re holding your breath until you release it

 now 

you burst into the room, ignoring the red warning tape, ripping it away to fall at your feet. Your phone was already ringing, the police on the other side 

The room was empty, despite all the yelling you heard, making your heart complete somersaults as realisation sets in 

were you imagining things? 

hammers knock nails into your head as you try to comprehend whatever had happened 

there’s nowhere to hide, yet no other door to escape out of, you can’t believe two of your batch mates have just vanished into thin air 

choking out a chuckle of disbelief, shaking fingers turn the call off, one hand covers your mouth as you slowly back away from the two graduation gowns and caps were strewn on the floor, blood staining both of them 

well...no one knows exactly what happened that day because when the cleaner discovered it, it was too late to identify anyone by then 

only you knew the real answers 

but honestly, time wore on and you became much busier in college, whatever happened to your batch mates wasn’t your concern anymore 

you just couldn’t afford any time to care or ponder about it 

yes, you wondered and dreamed about the possibilities but most of your time was spent studying hard, medicine majors can’t afford sleep 

all you wanted to work as since you were little was a psychiatrist especially since your father was a scientist, specialising in biological sciences 

you wanted to follow in his footsteps and join the scientist life 

your father often joked that you and him would be the greatest scientists in the world someday, him as a biologist and you as a psychiatrist 

and that was your real motivation, you genuinely wanted to achieve that seemingly far-fetched dream 

your parents were supportive, your professor sort of favoured you, your college was Ivy League...what else could you want? 

life was perfect 

until one day...a Friday morning, which meant morning coffee and cake run with your roommates

that day, it also meant encountering people you never once thought you would see again 

Hwang Minhyun and Ong Seongwoo 

they clearly didn’t resemble the pesky 18-year-olds you remembered but they looked like elegant, poised and well-refined college upperclassmen

certainly, they dressed the part 

Minhyun was wearing a sleek black turtleneck sweater paired with camel coloured slacks, draped over his chair was a classy caramel and tartan blend of a Burberry trench 

his coffee was Americano, his shoes embossed with the Louboutin stamp and a pair of thin circular framed spectacles rested on the bridge of his nose 

wow

is that really Hwang Minhyun? 

you kinda saw his style coming anyway lol 

but then, is that Ong Seongwoo sitting across from him? 

Seongwoo had changed 

okay he still kept his bad boy, had -2 hours of sleep for 3 decades look but there was a different aura around him now 

he looked...dare you say it, attractively stylish 

his dark hair was swept into boyish bangs, just passing his eyebrows, it looked thick and silky. 

Seongwoo wore an oversized grey flannel which he tucked into dark wash skinny jeans with rips at the knees.

To finish the look, he wore a pair of polished white sneakers 

yes, I’m talking about the look from ‘Beautiful’ photos mhm

in his grip, was a familiar packet; he still drank the same juice since high school 

some things just don’t change  

cute 

WAIT NO NOT CUTE REMEMBER HE’S THE BOY WHO HATED YOUR GUTS AND YOU STILL DON’T KNOW WHY

AND HE ALSO MYSTERIOUSLY DISAPPEARED THROUGH THE RENOVATING LOCKER ROOM ON GRADUATION DAY 

SHADY 

QUICK LOOK AWAY BEFORE HE SEES YOU

hastily, you place your order and join your friends at the table, trying to blend yourself in with the bubbling chatter, a distraction from the two people seated by the window 

...awkward...

mhm but you had really exciting news to break to your friends 

‘you’re awfully quiet today,’ your best friend pointed out. ‘Are you hiding something?’ 

yes 

‘nah...I just have news to break to you guys,’ you said, trying to seem nonchalant 

but it is true that you have amazing news to break!!! 

‘tell us!’ your friends chorus excitedly, eager to find out 

on the opposite side of the cafe, both Minhyun and Seongwoo have taken notice of your presence 

Minhyun chuckles. ‘Remember when we were 118, our graduation? You freaking out and succumbing to the side effects? Good times.’ 

‘good times my ass, I lost my graduation gown and cap!’ Seongwoo whines. ‘My mum was making a collection of all our graduation gowns. I think she’s still holding a grudge at me.’ 

Minhyun cleared his throat and lowered his voice. ‘Your family still doesn’t know about...it...right?’ 

Seongwoo shakes his head and his friend sighs. 

‘you know how much I hate it! Why can’t you just go to the authorities about this! It’s putting your life in danger and I hate seeing you hurt all the time!’ Minhyun sighs. He pinches the bridge of his nose and takes a long sip of his coffee

Seongwoo wrinkled his nose. ‘You know what will happen if I don’t show up for even one session. It’s happened before.’ 

Seongwoo finds himself tuning into your conversation instead of engaging with his friend 

okay let’s be honest, he’s never really liked you 

‘you need real help, Seongwoo. You really think drinking all these plasma juice boxes are going to make a difference? Are all these helping you one bit?’ 

‘I can’t take blood bags because of the injections you know it,’ Seongwoo retorted. He was only half-heartedly paying attention to his friend and he was straining his supernatural hearing to listen to your conversation 

‘Exactly! Stop the process, take real blood so your body can survive and I’ll get help from a psychiatrist. Seongwoo, this can make everything better.’ 

‘I’m going to be an interning at Dr. Im’s clinic!’ you announced happily, gaining gasps and congratulations from your friends. 

huh...good for them. Looks like they’re following their father’s footsteps into science and medicine. Notable. 

he gave you a side glance, noticing how much more good-looking you had become 

hmm 

Seongwoo felt colour slowing draining from his face. He quickly stabbed a straw into yet another plasma juice box 

was he angry? was he disappointed? was he glad? he didn’t know either

perhaps just slightly stupefied, stunned......

he never imagined Doctor’s so-called ‘work’ would continue, would ever become anything 

a pair of fangs began to protrude, his temper began to flare 

what? how many more of us are they going to take? no, I must stop them

‘Seongwoo helloooooo’ 

I have to protect my family at all costs 

‘SEONGWOO!’

the impact of Minhyun’s fist on the table made Seongwoo snap out of his angry thoughts. It also caused time to freeze as curious customers peered round to have a glance 

the table now had a small crack forming in its wood 

blushing, Minhyun briefly apologised, downed the remainder of his coffee in a shot before grabbing Seongwoo’s arm and dragging him out 

what a scene, you thought

 deep down you wondered when you would see them next 

probably on campus somewhere,,, but with your new internship and all, you would be increasingly busy 

there just wasn’t time to think about those kinds of irrelevant subjects

there was no time to waste on thoughts of Ong Seongwoo 

crazy 

I’m going crazy right now 

week two of the internship was definitely not treating you the best 

sorry, this part may not be so accurate 

 all you did for week one was sit at the reception, drop by the lab a couple of times, restock medication and occasionally, bring coffee in for Dr Im

honestly, you wanted to see patients or watch a session but those were all private and personal 

it was just you and the medicines for a bit :\ 

suddenly, Dr Im marches into the supply closet, court shoes, sparkling white coat and all. She smiles, handing you a clipboard and a form

‘There’s a new client today coming for consultation. I spoke to him and surprisingly, he agreed to let my dear trainee sit in. As long as you sign this protection of personal data form, you’re welcome to join this time,’ she explains 

OH MY GOSH 

what you’ve always wanted :”) 

WHY ISN’T IT 8PM YET 

why did he have to book the latest time slot what the hell there wasn’t anyone in the 5.30pm one how dare you make me wait 12 hours 

but you get yourself a coffee and tell yourself to suck it up 

at precisely 8pm, two well-dressed and tall men walk into the posh and pristine office 

you don’t realise who it is until you emerge from the medicine storage room just in time to see one of the guys remove his black mask

Ong Seongwoo 

>:(

luckily, he doesn’t seem to notice you yet. He and - supposedly - Minhyun turn in the direction of the waiting area 

they look out of place in their dark coats and masks. It’s a stark contrast from the white and grey interior, maybe a vase of pinky-white lilies sitting on a counter 

or a few paintings of scenery in sand coloured frames 

someone like Ong Seongwoo doesn’t belong here 

you wonder what problems he could even face.....

the second Seongwoo stepped into the room and sensed your presence, he wanted to turn around and storm right out 

getting help was Minhyun’s idea and when he said he knew of a psychiatrist that was fine with the supernatural, he placed his life in Minhyun’s hands 

clearly, it was the wrong choice

but he had to keep cool and wait for his best friend’s real intentions to be made clear 

his best friend was sacrificing him to Doctor, he had no doubt about that right now 

you were Doctor’s child and also training in the field of science and medicine

...Minhyun had a lot of explaining to do later on 

the shock was written all over Seongwoo’s face when you sat next to Dr Im during the consult, taking notes and all 

so, the intern was you 

throughout the session, you genuinely wondered why Seongwoo would be here 

there was a section that you were asked to step out for a second and your best guess that it was an extremely sensitive matter 

somehow,,, you wanted to help Seongwoo 

isn’t that why you were a doctor anyway? 

even if he despised you, you wanted to help him so badly 

he left unscathed, that was astonishing to him too

when interrogated, Minhyun seemed to have 0 knowledge of your existence and that you were related to Doctor 

‘I-I’m so s-sorry. I really had no clue,’ he choked out, holding back a sob 

Seongwoo brushed it off, believing and forgiving his best friend 

‘how are things with Jaehwan? More roommate trouble?’ 

‘ugh, don’t remind me. He keeps teasing me about my crush on our neighbour.’ 

laughter resounded on the drive back to their dorms 

all was back to normal 

but both your lives wouldn’t be 

Doctor: 1.45am. Usual place. Don’t be late 

‘Dr Im, if you don’t mind me asking, what was your diagnosis?’ you questioned carefully, afraid of setting off an explosion of fuming fireworks

Dr Im sighed, she pressed her hand to her forehead. ‘He’s a difficult one if I’m honest. However, my brain is telling me it’s PTSD or depression, worse case scenario and it could be both.’ 

I’m not an expert on both even though I did research so I’m sorry if there are any inaccuracies, I tried to exclude it for the majority of the work

you kept silent, the information unable to fully sink into your mind.

Ong Seongwoo? PTSD? Depression? 

was it related to whatever happened at graduation? Was he struggling then? Is he losing hope now? 

 he was never my friend, your mind indicates, why am I so worried? Why am I freaking out over this? He’s hated me all this while, yet I’m so concerned

I’m becoming a lunatic 

‘Dr Im,’ you call out meekly 

‘hmm?’ She hums in response, still scribbling words down on her writing pad 

you swallow hard, throat closing at the thought of saying your next words

‘you’ll do your best to help him right? Seongwoo would be okay? Would he?’ 

her pen pauses for a prolonged period as if that question required an extensive amount of consideration to answer 

Dr Im nibbles on her bottom lip, nervously, you note 

‘yes. Seongwoo will be just fine.’ 

Doctor: No blood, just plasma. 

......to be continued

[bera-chan]

Parallels

i had a dream not to long ago. now this is significant because this is the only dream ive had in the past 15 years. or at least the only one in that long i can remember.

i remember every single detail.

Details so I don’t forget.

Main character is a humanoid alien, (or human when space travel is normal.)

Comes in contact with another advanced race, that immediately attacks. Main character and team crash land on a mostly water planet where the air is thick, and acidic.

There is life on the planet, humanoid and aquatic like creatures that can survive both on “land” and underwater.

The main character is captured. This planet doesn’t have space flight, and hasn’t had alien contact.

Planets culture is a mix of steampunk, and smoothed over retro. Just not as flashy.

The main character is sick for an undetermined amount of time due to the acidic natures of the world, but wakes up having adjusted to it. Something about the effects of the world are more mental than physical. As a scientist, he knows you don’t develop an immunity to acid.

He wakes up inside a large room. The ceiling a thousand feet up. The room a few hundred feet wide. One entire wall is covered in a thick black or purple curtain.

The air is thick.

He pulls part of it to the side so he can see whats there, and the entirety of the wall is made of glass. With thick darkness on the other side.

A sensor tool on his forearm, while clouded with static readings, tells him the entirety of the area on the other side is water. His instincts tell him that something is very wrong with what hes seeing.

He finds a door, and spends a few moments looking through it, to see what is out there on this world. And he sees the mundane. a variety of human like and aquatic like beings going about there daily routine. He sees childred playing and getting into mischief. He only sees part of the outside of the building hes in, but children are trying to explore it.

He thinks he can pass as a local, even for a little bit.

He does. For about a minute. Apart from his clothing, what gave him away as something they didn’t know was that he had walked out of a building no one was permitted to enter. Or leave. No one had ever seen anyone come out of this structure. It was revered as both sacred, and unholy. Something terrifying. Death, imprisonment, or exile were the only punishments connected with entiering the structure. It is everyones shock that gave him about a minute to walk away.

Hes sundenly chased by what he assumes are the local authorities. He runs away.

He notices random similarities between here and his own home world. Hes running through an every day looking airport terminal.

He doesn’t have much time to think on it. Hes caputured.

He understands their language.

Barely any time passes when he is told that he has been released.

A tall woman, whos aquatic nature resembles a solid black octopus. No legs, just tentacles, connected to a human waist, arms, neck and head. Shes wearing a dress. Its thick, and dark toned, just like most of her tentacle arms. Her ebony skin, while probably considered dark is almost pale compared to her dress and aquatic side.

“I know where you come from” she says, “so why don’t you come with me”

With little choice, he follows. Almost entranced by this creature.

He can tell she is someone of power, just from her words, and how the others avoid staring at her. Like their eyes will burn forever if they gaze on her.

They return to the room he woke up in before. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust, but he follows her still. To his surprise they stop at a large normal looking hottub. And even more surprised, and albiet a bit flustered when this woman starts stripping and then eases herself into the tub.

Beckoned to join her, so they can talk, she says. He does the same, and slides himself into the water.

Its hot, but light. Lighter than the air. Hes confused. He feels the water, but at the same time, doesn’t.

she asks a number of questions. “where do you come from” “

she asks these, but her face shows that she already knows the answers somehow.

She says she has a need for him. Something only he can do.

She doesn’t say what, but only that they’ve tried for a very long time. Whatever it is was, or is, a painstaking process that has shown zero progress, and has resulted in the loss of much. Financially, and the loss of life.

“but, because you are here things can finally change. you can bridge the gap between our failure and success.”

Hes afraid to ask, his instinct tells him it has something to do with what is on the other side of the glass.

“it will still take time, but a few months to a year is trivial compared to the lifetimes spent on it” she says excitedly. He sees her lick her lips in anticipation. Despite the warmth, he shivers.

He hasn’t had a chance to talk at all. Just answering her questions one after the other.

“what are you building” he manages to ask

She responds, with her eyes widening with barely restrained enthusiasm, and a grin that could destroy worlds with its intensity, “A bridge.”

That’s all the information he’s able to get, as she rushes him out to some sort of placement. “we don’t need you until the final stage” she explains.

Days and weeks pass, and he has been working a mundane job that was given to him to quell any boredom. And possibly his curiosity about the world and this bridge. He knows that they’ve been studying him the entire time. He wakes up with his arm itchy, and a small microscopic pinprick. His tool on his forearm allows him to see where. Because its still with him, he assumes they don’t know what it is or does. Or at least havnt tried removing it.

They are studying his blood.

He thinks he understands the curiosity involved. Hes some random alien here. If he had the tools, hed be studying theirs, too.

They could at least ask him.

At night, when he can; he returns to the room he originally woke in. the glass wall bothers him. Something in his gut is screaming out that needs to be heard. Something in his head screaming back ‘im trying, im trying.’

He investigates the wall as much as he can. One night, he finds a stair case. It goes to the roof, maybe.

He treks upwards for hours, longer than he though realistic for how high the roof of the building is. This giant wall of a building.

When hes outside during the day, the entire possibly eastern side of the city is surrounded by this building. Hes never seen the other side.

Maybe he will tonight once hes at the top.

The air gets thicker the higher up he goes. He can feel the acidity increasing as well.

His forearm tool alerting him that the pressure and acid are beyond lethal doses now.

He doesn’t feel dead though.

He reaches the top, finding a door. He opens it up slowly. Fearful of what he might see on the other side. What kind of watery world might exist.

Theres nothing at all.

Theres no water.

No grass.

No life.

He doesn’t understand. The glass wall shows an infinite abyss beyond its protective glass. He saw the dark water through it. His tool confirmed it.

But theres nothing on the other side at all.

“I don’t like it much out here. Its far to bleak.”

He turns around, and not really to his surprise he sees the powerful octopus lady.

“I don’t understand” he says asking more than saying. “how can this nothingness be here, when down there on the other side of the glass it shows that infinite ocean?”

She grins knowingly.

“which one is real?” he ask.

His stomach knots up when she grins and responds, “both are.”

She walks across the roof, towards another door. She passes him, almost laughing as she gestures for him to follow. “what is glass most used for?”

“windows,” he says after a moment. Following her quick pace.

They go down another set of stairs, but the air doesn’t change. Its dark, he feels like itll consume him.

“there is a place we wish to go, but have not been able to reach. There is a great infinite chasm, that impedes our way. You are the key to finishing the bridge that can grant us our salvation from this world. That blackness you see on the other side of the glass. Its not water, but the chasm we are trying to cross. This entire building, this dam, is a window. And we are trying to reach the window on the other side.”

Hes barely able to make sense of this. This is beyond his knowledge of science. This isn’t part physics at all.

They reach the bottom. It’s a small room by comparison to the other. But there is no curtain covering the glass wall. Instead, there is a hole.  

He still doesn’t understand. He can still see the watery blackness through the hole. Why isnt this entire room flooded.

He feels something though, coming out of it. Or he feels a lack of something when he steps closer.

Theres no acidity coming from it.

He steps away from it. It he can feel his nerves flaring up. Everything is starting to hurt until it reaches a point where hes gasping on his knees in pain. His body unable to adapt like it had when he first arrived here.

The woman picks him up, sheiding him some from the invisible flames.

“for some reason, it only hurts you” she says amused. “What lies beyond there is the atmosphere you used to live in. it seems your body cant re-adapt to it without possibly killing you.”

Hes barely able to hear her through his panting. She keeps saying things he just doesn’t understand.

“good luck little man. Its time for you to bridge the gap, and free us”

She turns around, re-exposing him to the pain, and without warning tosses him through the hole.

Pain floods his body the moment the darkness envelops him.

Hes falling.

And falling

Through the pain, all he can think is that death is near. Falling closer and closer to his end.

Unless the air kills him first. The pain the atmosphere is causing him is just as infinite as the darkness.

Time is lost.

Falling forever.

Death cant come soon enough now.

Hes slowing down. But he still doesn’t see the bottom.

The pain is lessening. Hes grateful.

He stops falling. But doesn’t move. The trauma leaving him twitching on the ground.

The air doesn’t hurt him anymore. He can breathe. It feels like the air he was always used to before his crash on this world.

He stands slowly, a bit nauseous. And looks around. Hes surprised when he sees the glass wall, and the hole he was pushed through right in front of him. He had fallen only a few feet. There is no-one on the other side though. The woman gone.

He reaches towards the hole, but isn’t able to pass through it. like the glass is there, blocking him.

He looks down, what is he standing on? He touches the ground. Its warm. Smooth. A sheer surface.

He turns from the hole, and holding up his forearm tool, activates a light attachment.

The darkness is still thick, but he can see a bit in front of him. Walking forward, he finds a doorway. He walks through it, and finds a massive antechamber. Pale orange light illuminating its entirety.

Hes immediately horrified. All along its walls were cages and pods. All different from each other in design, shape, and size. Each one with a being inside. Each frozen in place, in a stasis. Or dead.

Thousands, hundreds of thousands of lives.