#if a predator preys on him- well he's tainted

[dark-and-kawaii]

༺ 𝐿𝑜𝓈𝓈 𝒪𝒻 𝒜𝓃 𝐻𝑒𝒾𝓇 ༻

Raphael

Summary: Raphael returns to his boudoir only to discover that you’ve lost his child, and it wasn’t from natural causes. His rage spirals when he finds it was due to a fellow follower of his…

Notes: I suck at summaries But I loved how this turned out so I hope you do as well!!!

Pairings: Raphael × f!Tav/Reader

• Hurt I Angst I Miscarriage | Ascended Raphael | Raphael Gets His Revenge

Ao3

As Raphael returned to his domain, an unsettling sight awaited him in the heart of his boudoir. There, amidst the opulence, was Haarlep, his personal incubus, cradling you in their arms within the large bath. Raphael's eyes scanned the water, a macabre blend of red and clear, tainted by the presence of blood. His gaze then shifted to his beloved little mouse, your hair clinging to your face, your skin glistening with sweat, and your breath laborious as your eyes remained closed.

But it was the sight of the tiny wrapped figure beside you on the bath’s edge, drenched in blood, that sent Raphael's rage spiraling to new heights. He didn't need to uncover it; he knew within his very core that his heir, his precious child, had been stolen away. With such a great loss, for the first time in centuries, his heart felt heavy.

"What happened?!" Raphael's voice seethed with malice, his clenched fist emphasizing his anger. Haarlep, usually insolent but now treading carefully, moved away from you and gently positioned you against the steps of the bath, ensuring some comfort. Approaching Raphael, Haarlep’s concealed their voice in a whisper so that you couldn’t hear, "It would seem that your dear tav has gone and lost your little pup-," Haarlep began, only to be interrupted by a warning glare from Raphael, “The lady of the house has miscarried," The incubus finally confessed.

Raphael's rage intensified, his words laced with venom, "I see that, you insolent creature! How did this come to pass?!" Aware of the consequences should they misstep, Haarlep treaded carefully, knowing their fate might just mirror Hope's in the basement.

In a snap, Haarlep summoned a cup, presenting it to Raphael. "Korilla brought this to my attention. A glass of deceit, a venom ever so sweet. It's tainted with juniper." Seizing the cup, Raphael brought it to his nose, confirming the presence of the insidious poison. It dawned on him that an intruder had violated his sanctuary, contaminating his precious little mouse, with this abhorrent act. Even as a devil, he recoiled at the thought of snuffing out the life within a mother's womb. This transgressor would pay a heavy price, both their soul and flesh, as Raphael vowed to exact a merciless retribution upon them.

It only took a couple of hours, but Raphael manages to track down the culprit, Korilla, once a cherished follower, always by his side. Yet, for reasons unknown, she had chosen to betray him in the most vile of ways… As Korilla returned to his domain, Raphael awaited her, leaning casually against a pillar, his arms crossed in a display of controlled dominance. His face, seemingly normal, concealed the depths of his wrath. When she finally approached, he began to circle her like a predator sizing up its prey, his gaze never wavering.

“Tell me, dear Korilla, how was your day?”

Her voice was filled with falsehoods, twisting a tale to make it seem as if though she were gathering clients for him.

"Ah, ah," Raphael interjected, his tone laced with a sadistic delight. "The truth is far greater than that feeble lie of yours." His features twisted with a mix of disgust and fury, his nose scrunching in disdain. And in a snap of his fingers, the very cup from which you had sipped appeared before them.

"Justify this to me! Why I stumbled upon what is undeniably my possession, nestled within the grasp of Haarlep, grieving for the loss of my own flesh and blood? The stillbirth, wrapped in a cloth stained with the taint of blood!” He condemned her for the atrocious deed, declaring, "You invaded my sanctuary, forcefully snatching away my child from the very womb that belongs to me!”

Korilla stood her ground, her calm demeanor unwavering. "I did this for your own sake," she asserted. "That mortal was tainting your path to becoming the next ruler of the Nine Hells. I'm sorry, but it needed to be done."

“You thought you were acting in my best interest, did you?" Raphael's scowl shifts to a smile, "Your feeble attempt to protect me has only sealed your fate."

Korilla trembled, her once defiant spirit now reduced to a mere flicker of fear. She had underestimated the power and ferocity of Raphael's love for you, and now she would pay the price for her treachery. But even in the face of imminent punishment, a spark of hope ignited within her, "Raphael, you cannot blame me for this," Korilla pleaded, her voice trembling with a mixture of fear and desperation. "I did what I believed was necessary to protect you, to protect House Hope.

Flames consumed him, "Your time has come to an end, Korilla,” Raphael growled, his voice resonating with a deep, otherworldly tone. "But fear not, for your sister shall keep you company as I flay you and adorn my abode with your entrails.”

As his true form emerged. He transformed into a monstrous fiend with wings unfurling from his back, a tail lashing behind him, and a wild mane of fire cascading around his head. His once simple horns morphed into a complex crown of infernal bone, framing his snouted face. Two additional faces erupted from his cheekbones, giving him a total of four menacing, orange eyes. His entire being radiated with the glow of infernal flame, and fearsome tusks jutted forth from each of his mouths.

Raphael approached, his towering figure casting a haunting shadow over Korilla. His claws extended, glinting ominously in the flickering light. He reached out, his talons grazing her trembling skin, causing her to shudder in fear and anticipation. With each touch, a searing pain coursed through her body, a mere taste of the agony that awaited her.

[teal-fiend]

prey delivery service

summary: a pred being rude because his prey delivery was late to arrive

The clock ticked past midnight, and the predator’s patience ran thin. He reclined on his leather couch, fingers drumming irritably on the armrest as he glared at his phone screen, waiting for the delivery that was already half an hour late.

“Unbelievable,” he muttered, sending another angry text to his personal assistant. She’d promised everything would be in order, that the ‘food’ would be there in five minutes. But here he was, stomach growling, craving the feel of something fresh (very fresh) and warm inside him.

Just as he was about to let out a growl of frustration, the door finally opened, and in walked a pair of delivery men, flanking a nervous young man. 

The predator’s gaze swept over him, sizing him up with narrowed eyes, hunger-tainted. He was perfect, plump, and there was something deliciously soft about him. This would do nicely. 

“Finally,” The predator sighed, sounding as if he’d just endured the worst day of his life. “You know, if you’re going to offer this kind of service, you could at least be on time.”

The young man gulped, wide-eyed as the delivery men guided him further into the room, like guiding cattle towards the slaughterhouse. The assistant rushed in a few seconds behind them, and began to apologise, explaining there had been a delay with traffic, but the predator waved her off.

“Just get him over here,” he snapped, gesturing to the trembling young man. “I’m not sitting around listening to excuses. You know how my stomach gets if I’m not fed on time.”

Oddly on cue, his stomach intruded with a thick, angry growl. A few people jumped at that sound. The predator grimaced, and put a hand over it. 

The delivery men guided the young man closer, positioning him within reach, but the predator didn’t move, he merely glared up at them. “Well?” he barked, arms crossed. “I’m waiting.”

The delivery men exchanged a hesitant glance, and one of them leaned down to coax the prey forward - it was supposed to offer itself up to the predator - but the prey wasn’t having it. 

“Uhm, what’s going on?” The prey stutters. The predator’s gaze whips over to his assistant, who shrugs. He looks towards the delivery men, who have a similarly vacant expression.

The predator tutted, rolling his eyes at the awkward situation. 

“Honestly, you’re telling me he didn’t know what he was signed up for? This is ridiculous.”

Finally, the young man met the predator’s gaze, swallowing hard, fear etched across his face. The predator’s expression softened just enough to appear less intimidating, though impatience still simmered under his skin. 

“You were sent here as my meal. I am going to eat you.”

“W-what?!”

Before wasting any more time, he reached up, pulling the man closer, and gave a smug, satisfied hum as he opened his mouth and began to devour.

Each swallow was deliberate, the predator taking his time to savour every inch, pausing to breathe and let his stomach expand as it grew tauter. His belly began to bulge like it had many times during its career. It strained against his shirt buttons, which were stretched to their limit by the time he finished. He licked his lips, content as he gave his belly a proprietary pat.

But then, a twinge of discomfort pinched him as he adjusted in his seat, and he scowled at his assistant. “Unbutton me,” he snapped, exasperated. She stepped forward, carefully but quickly undoing the buttons over his prey-filled stomach until he could breathe easier. The relief was palpable, but he gave her a disdainful look as if it were her fault for not foreseeing that slight discomfort.

“Finally,” he said loudly, reclining back and giving his belly a smug rub. “You know, this would’ve been much easier if he’d been here on time. Now my stomach’s all worked up, thanks to you lot.” He shot the assistant a cold glare.

“Yes, sir,” she replied, keeping her tone even as she packed up and prepared to leave.

The predator huffed and closed his eyes, settling back with a groan. “Well, see that it doesn’t happen again. I don’t care what it takes; I expect my meal on time.”

As the last of the staff shuffled out, he relaxed fully, sinking into the chair, his fingers idly squeezing at his gut. The deep, tight fullness soothed him, and slowly, he drifted into sleep, Grumbling incoherently about tardiness and incompetence. 

His sleepy brain was still fired up as he lay, edging towards sleep - How hard was it to keep a predator of his stature properly fed, relaxed, and—ideally—never left waiting?

And that prey… Well, he tasted fine, but the prep was completely unacceptable.

The predator planned on telling his assistant to make sure his prey has been well-prepared next time—no shivering or backing away. The predator did not want to deal with nerves while he was trying to enjoy a meal. 

After all, someone of his calibre deserved nothing less than absolute perfection, a full belly and none of the waiting. The predator fell asleep Entirely satisfied with himself.

[jollmaster]

finally: asile!AU, Alastor, wicked deer

biography

° son of a white french creole woman and dark-skinned creole man with ethiopian roots

° inherited his mother's red-haired appearance

° from father Alastor inherited only tall height and musical ear

° mother gave him born when she was barely eighteen, widowed at twenty-two and wasn't the best mother in the world, but they loved each other

° spent his life in a rather difficult era, which included racial segregation (Alastor could have been persecuted if he had visible black roots), World War I (mother was afraid he would be taken away to war), the spanish flu epidemic (mom died during the epidemic), Prohibition and the Great Depression

° Alastor is a quadroon

° throughout his life he had to hide his ancestry because of Jim Crow laws

° as a result, he dissociated himself from the black community and, perversely interpreting a subconscious desire to "clean" himself, lynched black people suspected of crimes

° was shot in the woods by the widow of one of his victims

° in Hell, Alastor drank demon blood to bind himself to the underworld (blood magic is used extensively in this universe)

° also ate a demon's liver and tongue

° highly tainted, better adapted to the underworld and well versed in blood magic

° there are only a few mortals who can tolerate such meat-eating, and Alastor is one of them

° deer's appearance is a symbolic reflection of the change from hunter to prey status; predator's features are a consequence of defilement and demon blood

° the demon who helped him with this ritual was Rosie

fun facts

° periodically Alastor sheds antlers :D

° one pair of them he uses as a coat rack

° another antlers performs the same function in Rosie's home

° got Niffty a job in a cannibal town before he disappeared for seven years

° spent seven years in mortal world, but came back with no regrets

° uses the N-word

° wears spinal corset

° very good at couples dances; his mother worked part-time as a gigolette for a while and taught son how to dance in case he needed quick cash or having a nice time

° around the same time, Alastor developed a slight misandry because he sometimes had to protect mom from pesky suitors

° speaks good Creole French (also thanks mom)

° illegitimate child

° jokes that he died at Jesus Christ's age

° often skips overlord meetings

° overlords generally don't like him because he's upstart and opinionated

° platonically married to Rosie

° there was no ceremony, they just decided they'd be husband and wife

° Alastor likes Rosie to bite his neck and ears (and bites her, too), and won't let anyone else touch neck and ears but her

thanks @yorking1 for request! 💕

[twig-gy]

i loathe having to put a cut but there are no trigger tags for this so. eye licking. memories of eye trauma. nasa things. it’s meant to be described in a disgusting manner though idk if i succeeded (don’t tell me :3333)

Soul clutches Heart close.

Crusted blood runs tear tracks down his face. Soul thinks of pulling the tines out, covered in pieces of his eye. Soul thinks of fluid bursting, running down his trident.

Soul thinks of prying apart his eyelids, memorizing that stare. For the last time.

Heart’s asleep, as far as he can tell.

He brings Heart’s face to his, again, stares at where Soul gouged his eyes out. When he’s tired of that, the empty eyesockets, bits of eye still stuck there along with blood, the holes, still weeping slowly - he tilts Heart’s head down and his up. Lips to eyelid.

He doesn’t notice what he’s thinking to do. He leans into Heart, ensnared in his gravity, the gravity of - something. Something he doesn’t know. Something he can’t.

He wants to taste it.

Soul starts at the thought, which goes straight to his head and dizzies him. This is sick. This is so, so sick.

The iron, the salt, the eye, squishy in his teeth, predator to prey…

He wants to taste it.

He wants to taste it. Nausea twists in his stomach and it bleeds into the desire or maybe it’s the same thing- and Soul grits his teeth.

Would it really be so disgusting?

Heart wouldn’t know.

He wouldn’t.

Soul presses a kiss to Heart’s left eyesocket. The blood dots his lips. It isn’t enough.

He hesitantly opens his mouth. It really sinks in, what he’s doing, when his tongue touches Heart’s skin.

It’s so soft… and it deforms easily around his intrusion, blood spilling into his mouth. He swallows it down and thinks he’s choking. He sticks his tongue in further and thinks he couldn’t stop if he wanted to.

He chews up the bits of Heart’s eye remaining - squishy, as he had thought. Tangy. Soul gags.

He pulls away for a breath. Blinks as if he had been stuck in a daze.

What did he just do?

Heart’s taste lingers in his mouth. Saliva runs down that eyesocket.

Along with his lipstick.

Stained.

What did he just do?

He lays Heart on top of his bed, arranging the blankets around him, and sits on the edge of his bed. Notably, he does not make to clean out Heart’s eyesocket. Properly. He steals little glances at it as if any more will taint him. Which, it might.

Heart’s meant to have his lipstick on him. It looks so pretty, when it’s him. When his eyesocket is glistening, evidence of Soul’s- well, a bit more than a lapse. Fuck, Heart looks beautiful like this.

“{Fuck.}”

[unanswered-stars]

Gwyn Week 2024 Day 1: Friends & Family - Daughter of Autumn

Gwyn has spent her whole life wondering about her father. A nameless faceless fae from one Calanmai night. That is until a fateful meeting with a stranger in the dark.

To my Azris family do not fret you will be well and truly fed.

Yes this is a tad late but in the three days I spent editing this I completely reworked the structure and this went from a fluffy 4.2k to a hefty 11.2k so have fun folks!

Read on ao3 here

Snippet below

The warmth of pale fingers grazing against her own as she reached for the blade was enough to make her whole body feel as though it were ablaze.

The male jerked his hand back and cocked his head to the side, eyes narrowing, a predator assessing their prey.

“What is your name girl?” The male was watching her, assessing her as though she were a puzzle to be solved.

“I…” those amber eyes met hers again and she lost all ability to speak.

“Who are your people?” The male’s eyes softened as he looked at her waiting for a response.

If Gwyn had been able to focus on anything aside from the deafening clang of her quickening heartbeat she may have noticed that the male’s hands were shaking ever so slightly, the scent of fear tainting the air around him.

Sing a little ditty if you want on or off the tag train

@chunkypossum @futurehunt @fieldofdaisiies @hieragalbatorixdottir @the-darkestminds @jules-writes-stories @chairofchaos @talibunny30 @theartofmischief @gwynweekofficial

[rubyeyes-rubyscales]

"Is something the matter dear..~?"

At the mouth of cave, a creature with the upper half of a gorgeous man with perfect, milky white skin, snowy-colored hair that reached past his midriff, and alluring ruby-red eyes, and the lower half of a serpent with reddish-black scales rested on a large flat rock, basking in the sun.

Hearing the rustling of leaves nearby, he opened his eyes slowly and demurely and looked up, a lazy smile spreading across soft and rosy lips.

"Ah, is my meal here..?" He chuckled low, pulling himself up to coil on the rock, looking down at the little trespasser who was oh-so brave enough to cross into his part of the wilderness.

"Only kidding, please calm yourself." He sighed, lying back down and leaning over the edge of the rock with a look of complete boredom with perhaps a hint of amusement.

"Well? Is there something you need?" He hissed out between sharp fangs, equally sharp eyes narrowing on the cute prey who stepped into his home.

He blinked with confusion at the newcomers answer, amusement becoming more prominent in those usually dull ruby eyes.

"You want to know about me? Well, I suppose I'll indulge since you seem to have just.. no idea of this place.."

He smiled as though he were planning some kind of plot in the back of his mind.

"My name is Shibusawa Tatsuhiko, darling. I protect all who live in my territory, which is where you are right now. I am.. What you could call a protector. I keep the humans away. Did that satisfy your curiosity?"

Okay so, Shibusawa in @tainted-mutt 's AU is a Naga and somewhat protects the hybrids who stumble upon him. He's a bit shifty, but it's from many years of being isolated and far from any social interactions. His snake half is a sort of russet color with lighter brownish-red belly scales.

In this AU he's around twenty-four, so he's aged down. He's also venomous, just to make this a bit more fun. He genuinely doesn't understand social cues so if anyone tries flirting with him, have fun because he is oblivious!

He's honestly sort of creepy in an unsettling way, which makes sense since snakes are predators. He sees smaller hybrids as "prey" but means in a slightly endearing way. He doesn't eat other hybrids. Not often, at least.

Links:

MORE TO BE ADDED

Angst Posts:

Lore Posts:

Tags:

The snake speaks.. 🐍 (IC posts and interactions)

The soul sends a sign 💀 (OOC posts)

Hello little prey~ 🐭 (Answering anons)

A precious human.. ❤ (Interactions with @mythical-enthusiast )

MORE TO BE ADDED

OOC blog is @asillyprettything hope you like this silly

[indiweb]

승한 、 TESTING HIS THIN PATIENCE. ⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀╰⠀ft. needy boyf!yoon keeho.

cuidado ⋆ she!her pns. fem!reader. jealous kyo. [.3k]

+ love 'sie : req from @kizoken , my twin. mi linda ♡

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀﹙ 피원하모니 ﹚

" YOU'RE TOO PRETTY FOR THEM , BABY. "

distasteful eyes lingered , like bees to pollen. insects to crumbs. predators to prey. if one could , he’d swat them away. watchers afar observed your presence much too long for jealous!keeho’s liking. a sour taste in his mouth ; termites rotting his gums.

eyebrows twitched and tongues scraped the tops of mouths , a brewing fire wisping away at his internals. though , if you were to see him yourself , jealous!keeho knew all you’d do is treat him like a child for his actions.

you were merely conversating amongst peers who likewise played volleyball , laughter rippling the waves of the ocean and ricocheting jealous!keeho’s perked ears. sorrows sulked and bodies rose , the man alas making way towards you across the shoreline.

── snaked , limbs barricaded your figure , your hands overlapping the flexed muscles of your boyfriend. delicate breaths fanned like a mid-spring breeze , hairs peeking much of blooming lavender blossoms. skinship tainted the flesh across your neck , sulking into his touch whilst continuing your conversation with your mates.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀his touch , like flower petals in a warm bath. nothing could attain how his simple presence influenced your mood. swingling grins spread and laughter boisterized , a settled contentment easing the man.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀" come tan with me. " paltry commands cued your goodbye’s , arm wrapping your shoulders whilst you proceeded to tease the man of his evident covetousness.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀deny , deny , deny ; his attempt at convincing. however , you knew the man far too well to be persuaded.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀" you’re just so cute , of course he’d flirt with you. " his pouts were met with pecked kisses and smiles carved into flesh. bodies tumbled and limbs entangled , legs straddling waists like a prey mantis to her lover. thick digits molded the skim of your hips , swirling circles against your skin.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀" and yet , where am i right now? " loomed tones spiraled the man’s back , passion-infused kisses trapping your lips all the while you likewise giggled against his skin. confidence built your relationship , keeho knowing where home was and you knowing your person.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀you wouldn’t trade it for the world , and neither would he. the warmth of each others embrace far too suffocating to be released. like a lily in a pond , you drowned yourself in his love just as much as did he. presumptions adhered and quarrels drowned.

⠀⠀⠀⠀⠀the suns beaming rays never felt better than when lying against the chest of your lover , heart beats melodic orchestras thumping your head.

SINCERELY , YOURS TRULY Ξ ©SEUNITAS, 2024

[sharonisthebettercarter]

Thinking about what you said, I think it's highly probable Madelyn Stillwell raped Homelander when he was 14 or 15.

That's around the age he got stuck at, right?

I think fandom is probably right about her doing it as more of a means to control him than anything, but I think you're probably right about this making it worse and meaning she did much more than has been shown to us on screen.

Regardless, I think this would have to be the case and I would say is even implied, but you are absolutely right that it shouldn't matter why someone decides to be a child molester.

They're still a child molester and whatever reasoning they have, the act is still vile and inexcusable. There even being debate on that in fandom just seems like grooming apologism and abuse dismissal because of favoritism towards Madelyn.

But the results and actions are ultimately the same in the end. It's also implementing a clause to make it mutually exclusionary when it could very well be both.

In the final scene, she swears to him that she loves him but is afraid of him and Homelander thanks her for finally being honest with him before killing her.

What if she was being honest or at least believed her own words when she said she loved him?

And the other scenes between them never struck me as a one time deal or the first time something like them happened. He does look off put in some ways and not quite uncomfortable, but almost like he's regressing when he's with her. Like she maybe used to do that sort of stuff more frequently and hasn't lately.

The scene where they're finally together struck me as more regression too. He immediately apologized to her and she consoled him like it was something that has happened before and she was used to it from him. Even the words she used and the way she said it and the way things were.

"My special sweet boy." "You did good." "That was so lovely."

Do people really believe this or similar can't have happened before with the things she says? To me, they indicate the exact opposite of that thought.

The scene looked almost like it was his first time, and obviously not hers. But the only way that really makes sense is if he is experiencing a moment of regression, possibly to his actual first time with her.

The scene feels like mother and son incest after years of abuse where she's deliberately causing his regression and enjoying the power it gives her over him.

She's a predator and this to me is made pretty clear if not explicit.

OOOH~<3! my darling anon, i wish i could fucking kiss you<3!

you just put into a word exactly why i could never get behind the homewell ship or the homewell type elements being used in other ships in fics that were supposedly trying to *heal* him. easy way to get me to check out for a fic because you *CANNOT* use elements from someone's trauma and abuse, legit full on *exploit* them, and *then* dare to call it or frame it as *healing* and expect it all to be hunky dory, that is just not how that shit works. (at least speaking in terms of medical accuracy/no wonder this shit is so triggery for me, this ain't supposed to be fuckin' disney--)

obliviously or dismissively predatory, so not even in the fun way...

and i want to be clear here, because this isn't me trying to tell people to not like the ship or elements or stop making content for them or whatever the fuck else. i don't care if people have or indulge in toxic guilty pleasure ships or stories here and there (literally have my own), but i always think we should be self aware of our own shit (plus ranting is sometimes good for the soul~<3) and it really *really* shows some people just are not in this case.

i *also* know people don't always mean to set up that way, part of it is a major problem with society (i will get to that~) and the only way for people to be aware is to be *made* aware, butt~

"--you think love is to prey, but i'm sorry i don't pray that way!"

"once i ran to you, now i run from you, this tainted love you've given--"

1000% correct. madelyn, regardless of what happened *off screen* between her and homelander, what we *did* see of her is enough to confirm her as a *predator*, and this was *before* diabolical added to the story behind them. she is extremely predatory as a character, set behind a narcissistic 'mother knows best' filter and a lot of it has nothing to do with homelander.

look no further than starlight~<3

this woman attempted to get a victim of rape to have 'discretion' about what happened to her, TO HER FACE. and every step of the way, tried to bully starlight into 'line' for the company. literally using narcissistic abuse--guilt tripping and shame, questioning her core values, fucking gaslighting (all things we see homelander copy oh deary me what an *odd* cowinkidink!! I WONDER WHERE HE LEARNED IT FROM.)--among others with a 'motherly' frame and 'it's just constructive criticism' (BITCH NO IT AIN'T!!) to manipulate her into doing what vought wanted/what was best for the *company*, NOT for annie.

hell, i'd wager she fucking hired starlight *specifically* because they thought she'd be an *easy* target.

she was *vulnerable*, nearly alone in that big city. her only relative/support system was an extremely religious mother who was *pushing her* to push through any pain or abuse and still wear a smile *for vought* and *for her* because of *fame* and *fortune*, framed as *for annie* when no it def wasn't. (i do like that starlight's mum actually becomes self aware of this and tries to amend the trust she broke, but i digress)

her tapes and everything they showed us about starlight showed us a wide eyed, bright eyed girl who was *hopeful*--but also naive... and as much as it pains me, that would have made her more susceptible to vought's machinations.

and i think the main reason annie didn't completely fall down the vought victims rabbit hole is in part due her truly good nature<3, but also because she met *hughie* (side note, notice how every time hughie and starlight have a falling out or separate from each other, they both start to get *worse*. butcher also tends to swoop in--)

it doesn't get talked about enough, but butcher pulls the same kind of bullshit with hughie (honestly probably why i could never quite feel right about butchie, do still like it but i do prefer it if butcher catches some guilty complexes causa hughie lmao), another good kid who's just had something monumentally traumatic happen to him and is in a super fucking vulnerable place where he'd be easy to manipulate for whatever it is butcher has planned.

he scoped him out and *saw* that, something to *use* to his advantage. and recruited him as such. like a gotdamn predator.

the wrench in his plans (as well as madelyn's) came in *hughie meeting annie* because they *gave* each other a solid support system because they were both good people, dealing with trauma, who found each other~<3 (always a hardcore hughielight shipper)

and butcher even *knows* this, he *knows* annie actually *honestly* and actually HELPS hughie and ruins his plots for him, so of course that mofo is gonna keep trying to ruin everything and break them up. if madelyn had ever discovered hughie, she probably would have done the same shit if in her own faux 'concerned mother' way.

BUTT... you are absolutely right in saying that fandom is highly dismissive or even apologist of what madelyn did to homelander (like they are with fuckin' everything that happened to him honestly) and it doesn't matter what reason she had to abuse him, what should be looked at is the fact of the matter.

did she abuse him? yes or no

the answer is yes, period. asking if she was actually attracted to him or just wanted control becomes a moot point after that, she *still* fucking groomed him. people can go ahead and debate the other factors, but the least they could do is acknowledge the first bit and not use the others to try and deny or 'lessen' the gravity of what she did.

i blame part of this on ableism and victim blaming, but also with how dismissive people *still* are when it comes to male victims of just about anything. christ, we still have people in fandom who have watched the show and *refuse*, not hyperbole, they downright *REFUSE* to acknowledge that homelander could have *any* semblance of victimhood whatsoever. despite the fact that he was literally tortured as a child and fucking groomed and we are given glimpses of these facts on screen, they'll deny any form of nuance and paint it as completely black or white, because he became... pretty much the only thing that fate allowed him to become.

that's not limited to this site even, it's prevalent pretty much in any part of the boys fandom across the web. (which is ironic given the series exists to challenge this sort of thinking)

but how often do we still see cases of a male *child* being sexually assaulted by an adult woman and the fucking judge going, "wElL sHe'S cAnDy So He PrObAbLy LiKeD iT"?

thankfully, not as often anymore. but if i'm honest? TOO FUCKING MANY (once is fucking too many) and the thought is still INSANELY pervasive. and again, it leads back to the question.

did she abuse him? yes or no

it doesn't fucking matter if the kid 'liked it' or not, MA'AM, THIS IS A FUCKING CHILD--

*children can NOT consent*

or in homelander's case, an emotionally stunted extremely mentally ill person. and ALSO a child at one point.

*likewise, mentally ill/special needs/disabled people and informed consent is an issue all its own. all of these are among the most vulnerable to abuse and the least likely to get justice for it*

if madelyn had been a man, nobody would question this. (who am i kidding, i'd like to think that but i am well aware there are apologists of all kinds that would not give a shit and be equally gross about it.)

and you are def right, it *feels* 1000% like *regression* in the scenes he's with her. and now that you mention it, the scene where they're together?? oh, fuck me. anon... that is *dark* and it fucking hurts but you may be right.

it *was* absolutely the first time *we* as an audience saw them together, and i think that may skew the perception about. there *was* absolutely an effort to regain control over him in that instance. but the things she said and the way it plays out... no

plainly, just no... it *does not* feel like the very first time that has happened... it feels like something that is *rare* between them. but definitely something that's happened *before*, and perhaps something she maintains as *rare* specifically to keep a hold on him. (could this be one reason for the diabolical episode?? to further implicate this?)

and even his use of doppelganger hinted at this cause think of it.

a 'madelyn' that is *just* for him, *only* the parts of her that... gave him attention, the bits he *liked*. what she more than likely fed to him as *scraps* to keep him crawling back for more. but because it was never genuine, the confusion from the ratio with abuse was thrown off, and the entire illusion that it ever meant anything was shattered prior (along with stormfront manipulating him), well...

"i give you all a boy could give you, take my tears and that's not nearly--"

down to his hatred and jealousy of teddy. we have to imagine what things were like before she had him but i get the feeling homelander got a lot more attention before then. it was well over 20 years and people honestly think in all that time *nothing* else happened??? things were 'normal' and then boom, *random* mommy kink??? hell, even the kid was maybe just as much a means to 'reset' the balance and help her maintain control as he was for future profit for vought.

OW.

yes. madelyn is a predator. homelander is her groomed victim. and i don't think it gets mentioned enough in this discourse, but one of the biggest reasons predators prey on the vulnerable or even want to make a fucking victim of someone is *because* of the power trip it gives them over that person. (hell, homelander fucking does this *specifically* because it has been done to him his entire life!)

and *even former abuse victims* may not realize it when they pull this sort of shit. i'm not gonna dive into that because it is a fucking *depressing* can of tapeworms, but let's just say i've been there, i know people who've been there, and i know people who know people who've been there. so this shit is a big fucking problem for people when we don't notice it and massively persistent circle jerk of perpetuation.

but it's still fucking predation, it doesn't make a difference if it's done by someone with power/control kink, narcissistic disorder or 'mommy/daddy dearest' vibes, pedophilic disorder, etc. it still fucking harmful and victimizes someone (especially when they are unaware/cannot consent to the powerplay OH FUCK--)

goddammit... i just realized the problem lmao... PISS. POOR. BDSM ETIQUETTE. GOTDAMN.

and trauma management i guess.

basically, people tag dom/sub or top/bottom when they should be tagging a 'control' or 'abuse kink'. dom/sub play relies on the informed consent of both parties while 'control' relies on the lack there of (informed consent) from the 'sub'. and in homelander's case, this shit is particularly bad. (readers need to be given informed consent too!! always tag yo shit y'all!!)

which to be fair, ain't exactly the fault of the ship itself, but more so the lack of awareness/common dismissal on it. it's really hella normalized/often advertised as 'just a quirky lil guy with a mommy kink' when that's not even remotely the only thing at play here and it goes way deeper and darker than that. you toss in homelander's other traumas and it's just... it's a goddamn mess.

and now i understand why i am so incredibly grossed out by fics that push homelander through more of this nonsense (or worse) with a new person (any person) and never bother addressing the trauma he has *directly* related to this shit. (because my traumas directly deal in the control shit yayyyyyyyyyyyyy~... UGH--)

well.

call me a pussy if you must (i am a pussy and a cunt and a dick and an asshole, i wear it shamelessly~<3) but i just ain't all that interested in fics that only exchange *handlers* for homelander instead of actually help him (when that's what they'll claim to want to do). seriously, lining him up with another 'madelyn' of all things just leaves me wishing he could *get away* from his shiny new abuser (because that is what she was, and would ideally be the inevitable outcome anyhow!)

homelander needs at least *one* honest *friend* who genuinely doesn't want anything from him to help him unblur the lines of informed consent that madelyn intentionally muddled *before* he can even make informed consent when it comes to this shit, especially if we wanna *actually* heal that boi (all he's had is more people capitalizing on it over and over if not just people with no clue of the minefield they were navigating)

he'd need to be able to experience true *independence* and *agency* before he decided they were things he actually wanted to put in someone else's hands or 'give up', so to speak, both of which would come *after* healing.

and if i'm indulging in toxicity with him, i'ma make him *get back at his abusers*~<3, give him a chance at some revenge porn for once and make it so much worse for *them*, not the guy who literally never had a chance or got to breathe his own breath (and def tagged properly of course).

but of all the whack ass takes i could see in the sea of fandoms, ANYONE in that position over this boi (or any character in similar situation) as he is *unhealed* is *NOT* his ally and doesn't give an honest shit about him, it's 100% all about *control* over him (which i know is a huge kink for tons of people and hypernormalized in society, especially heteronormativity, but again, trauma central for me so it'd be really fuckin' nice if people learned the difference and also started tagging this shit~<3)

fun for some, but not for me.

i've always generally preferred push/pull powerplay that purposely leaves the question of 'control' open/eventually balances it and helps empower and individualize both characters to be the best versions of themselves, i want them to learn and grow together. positive masculinity/femininity and emotional maturity are way more of a turn on for me and i want these bois and gurls and inbetweens to graduate to *men* and *women* and fairly *reasonable adults* when i write them, while preserving their core personalities and the things that make them *them*.

i also don't view 'bottomhood' as 'punishment'/something to use to deliberately rob a person of control/self determination (as much as we may joke about it, and also that is just rape with a pretty veil that at least deserves to be properly tagged) and i normally focus on empowering them just as much if not more than my tops so it's just damn weird to me to see that kind of mentality get popularized on any character and leik.

gotdamn, first off, what the shit, and second, i realize getting to the places i wanna go reasonably and responsibly takes hard work and pretty intricate writing but please lawd satan tell me i ain't the only one to feel this way, PLEASE!?

but very good point about it possibly being both/more than one element here. control is more likely to be *one* reason, but not *the* only reason and it could very well be a factor of both attraction and need to/getting off on the idea of controlling him (which still stems back to attraction, honestly, even if she didn't feel it towards him the sense of him being a child, it would still mean she feels it towards him in the sense of him being vulnerable which is just as awful, honestly.)

and i do think his stunted emotional maturity is 100% indicative that something *very* specific happened to him around that age (*maybe* she waited till after the debut??), but among all the other trauma, that is actually a question worth asking. why *then* and not any of the other times? he's got no shortage of trauma for his brain to pick from, so what the hell happened then?

as far as it feeling like incest? lil bit, yeah (if pseudo, which obviously we know it's not but i do think the vibe there is actually intended), suffice to say that madelyn is to homelander what billy's father was to him...

and y'know... i gotta admit, knowing this i am surprised we don't see all that much of butcher being shipped with his father because that and homewell are pretty much the same thing on opposite spectrums.

UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH--

have fun y'all, as always butt leik... have fun responsibly--gawddammit i never thought i'd be *that* old fart but i guess i am... well i can still be fun about it... tipsy bartender is fun lmao<3<3<3 (altho these subjects are decidedly less fun... *sigh of the long suffering*...)

[1987vampire]

a hazy dream | Brian Thomas

Fandom: Creepypasta / Marble hornets Word Count: 2.5k Warnings: sleep sex, reader is trans!male but it's only mentioned like one time when Brian calls you pretty boy. Fem body parts. smut frfr. just sm sweet smut A/N: Set in the poly!proxies universe like always. I posted this on my AO3 a few days ago and forgot to put it on here, too. You have full permission to crucify me. Cashapp: $Orpheus89 if ur feelin a lil brazy Extra:

Brian was practically exhausted by the time he came home, boots just barely dragging against the floor as he climbed up the multiple flights of stairs, his normally silent walk just barely heard by the other residents. His regular yellow hoodie was stained brown in some spots, dried blood and mud caked on the fabric. The same could be said for his jeans, and unfortunately for his gun, too. The fuckers had put up more of a fight than expected.

It was mostly silent in their portion of the house, but still, he found himself doing check-ins on the others. Sally was curled up in her princess-themed bed, ratty doll pressed against her chest as she snored more like a grown man than a child. Toby had his laptop blaring some YouTube videos he didn’t recognize nor care to, but the boy was dead to the world as well despite how loud it was. Tim, surprisingly, was also with Toby, body half-curled around him from behind, face pressed into Toby’s band t-shirt and hand half-holding onto a crochet hook, the yarn trailing off to a mess on the floor, another blanket, maybe?

That only left one. Brian kicked open the final door, the shared bedroom between him and Tim, and there you were. He felt himself physically deflate at the sight of you. You were fast asleep in one of his shirts, a faded-out band tee from when he was in college, your fist wrapped around the fabric like you had been clutching it to your chest. Your legs were exposed, bottom half only covered by a pair of red lace panties, a pair Tim had bought for you, if he remembered correctly, and god, did you look good enough to eat right now, and eat he just might. You shifted in your sleep like you somehow realized he was there, a predator in the night, but prey just for you – just for the group y’all had made.

You pressed your face further into one of their pillows, hips shifting so even more of you was on display, the curve of your ass, the fat of your stomach, the moonlight shifting through the windows making you seem almost angelic, like you weren’t also a killer just like them. He took a step forward, ready for the kill, but then he paused again, a shuddering breath crawling out of his chest and escaping before he could catch it. Oh, how he loved you. Oh, how it was even easier to realize when you were soft like this, when you were out for the taking, unaware of the danger, unaware of the love he had for you.

He took another step, this time stopping to kick off his muddy boots, pushing them aside so he wouldn’t trip on them later. Then came his pants, his boxers sweaty but free from the debris of the day. His hoodie and shirt were off in one fluid motion once his holsters were unbuckled. At least he was smart enough to click on his safety before chucking his gun away.

You were still so oblivious, nose twitching but otherwise unaware. When he finally made it to the bed, it was almost like a reward, dirty, tainted hands pressing against soft skin, still clean, still pure. He let his hand crawl up the expanse of your leg, calloused palm against your ankle, up your calf, up your thigh, finding purchase on your hip. He sighed, leaning down, pressing his mouth to your ankle and following the same pattern with his mouth. You shifted at that, a soft grunt escaping you followed by a sigh and you pressed more into the bed and more into his hold at the same time.

He lifted again, hand still on your hip, and then the other gently pushed you until you were on your back. You shuffled and then stilled, and Brian’s heart was full, as full as it could be for such a man. He pressed his free hand to your cheek, caressing, a soft smile taking over his face as you nuzzled into his hold. “So, so pretty,” he whispered, following it with a press of his lips to your forehead.

You moved at that, as his hand on your hip began to stroke your thigh, and he pressed another kiss to your cheek this time. You let out a soft groan, blinking past bleary vision at the man above you. “Mmm, Brian?” Your voice was still thick with sleep, confusion laced on top of it.

“Hey, pretty boy,” Brian murmured, watching with fond eyes as you nuzzled into his hand again, hips shifting slightly as the stimulation began to hit you.

You reached a hand up, pawing at his bare back, not sure what you wanted but sure that you wanted the touch at least. “You’re back?”

“Yeah, I’m back.” He made a tutting noise as you tried to push yourself up, leading you so you were laid back down again. “Missed you.”

You were clearly still half out of it, blinking up at him slowly, brain not comprehending what was in front of you. “Missed you too, baby.” He smiled again, this time leaning down to press a kiss to your lips, one that you reciprocated as much as you could. He yawned after, mouth opening wide like a lion, sharp canines on display. You tugged at him then, hand on his back pulling him just the slightest bit forward. “C’mere. You need to sleep.”

“Maybe in a second,” he replied, thumbs dipping into the bottom of your panties. You could feel the fire inside you spark, a shiver running down your spine at the implication. “You okay with this,” he questioned as he moved a bit closer to the space you were already internally begging him to get to.

You let out an affirmation, following it with another yawn, letting yourself turn to putty in his hands. He continued to just let his hands run over you, silent devotion in the silence of the room. The rain was picking up. He turned to see the window just barely cracked, small dribbles of the rain trailing down the wall as it gathered on the sill and spilled over. It made everything seem even hazier, your head dazed from sleep and his touch, and you were in bliss. He was right behind you, letting his shoulders drop, Hoodie almost pushing to take over control as he relaxed, but he wanted this, wanted this moment with you, wanted to hear his name fall from your lips, his rough hands on soft skin, him and you fully. As much as he loved the other boys, and he loved sharing you and Tim, it was rare to have moments like these anymore.

You sighed, letting your eyes fall half-closed, his touch lulling you almost into sleep, even as it felt like your skin was lit with flames everywhere he touched. He abandoned your thighs in favor of pushing your shirt up, watching as the cold air sent your skin prickling with goosebumps. You shivered, and he couldn’t help the soft shush he let out in response. “You’ll be warmer, soon, don’t worry, baby,” he whispered. It felt impossible to be any louder at the moment, like it would ruin everything, break the spell that had settled over the room. “I just wanna see you.” Hands pressing against now exposed skin, his breathing growing heavier, the heat in both his boxers and your panties seemed almost unbearable, but he continued to ignore it, instead leaning down and capturing one of your nipples in his mouth, pride filling his chest at the way you keened, arching into his touch.

“Brian,” you whimpered.

“I know, baby, I know.” He settled on just letting your shirt rest pushed up to your collarbones instead of taking it all the way off, hands already moving to dip into your panties, pulling them down. You shuffled just enough to help him pull them all the way off. He tossed them without a care, glancing over as they landed on his discarded hoodie, bright red on muddied yellow. He moved, settling between your thighs instead, kneeling and ready to worship. Fingers pressed to where you so desperately needed him, almost immediately finding your clit, letting out a delighted sound at the feeling of how wet you already were. Fuck, you were practically coating your thighs with the slick substance. He settled a slow rhythm, circling the bud, so slow that it made you want to whine out again, not enough to push you to the edge, only enough to have you clenching around nothing, getting wetter and wetter with anticipation and need.

“Aren’t you just the prettiest little thing?” You hadn’t realized that Brian had leaned down until his face was almost against your heat, you could feel his breath fanning against your soaked skin, and you finally cried out, shifting your hips, inviting him closer. He chuckled and relented, leaning forward slowly, and before you could help yourself, you were practically screaming, fisting at the sheets as Brian ate you out like a man starved. Earlier hesitations were gone with a flick of his tongue and a suck of his lips. You wanted to sob at the immediate overstimulation, the teasing that switched in an instant.

No words fell from your lips, just a confusing stutter of syllables and cries, especially as he moved to stuff two fingers inside of you, your body giving no resistance from how slick you were. His mouth wrapped around your clit, and his fingers pumped in and out of you at a steady pace, and then suddenly, you were cumming, and you were cumming hard. One of your hands fisted into his hair, the other tight in the sheets, and you were seeing stars. The orgasm came in slow waves, each bit of it drawn out with a slow movement of his fingers inside of you, a slight curl to press against your sweet spot during the final moments. You let a tear slip at that finally, slumping back into the mattress.

Brian lifted himself back up, the stupidest grin on his face, proud. Then, his mouth was on yours again, back to the slow, passionate, needy taste all over again. He pressed forward, tongue and teeth added to the mix, and you were on cloud nine, half out of it as you pulled at him, gripping his arm with all the meager strength you could muster. “I’m going to fuck you now,” he murmured as he finally pushed down his boxers, erection springing free, red and leaking and aching. He felt like he might die if he wasn’t able to finally press into the wet heat you so lovingly offered. You groaned, low in the back of your throat, more pleading than you meant for it to be. You shifted your hips, inviting him closer; he was quick to take the offer. He ran the head of his cock over your entrance, collecting the slick, and then he was pushing in, and you were seeing stars again, both of you moaning as he pressed in until he was fully inside in one fluid motion. He panted above you, pulling out the slightest bit before rocking back in. Your lips were parted, eyes closed as you let yourself fully enjoy the feeling. You didn’t think you would ever get used to this.

His hands found your hips, fingers digging into the soft flesh. “I love you so much,” he whispered as he pulled out until he was almost gone and then pressed back in, slow and devotional. You tried to find a response, tried to force words past your hung open lips, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to, instead pressing a hand to his chest and tapping your fingers three times against him – just like Hoodie had done for you. I love you.

He sighed, setting a slow and steady rhythm, and he leaned down, pressing his mouth to anything he could reach, your chest, your shoulders, your arms, your cheek, until finally he pressed his mouth to yours again. You were holding him so tight, like you were afraid he would let go, that your hazy mind had been making this all up, like you weren’t sure someone like him could be so real. You wanted to cry again, and you did, a few tears slipping past as you tapped him three times again, pausing and doing it again and again, and the words were falling out of his mouth in tandem.

“I love you. I love you. I love you.”

He breathed you in, pressed his lips to your open throat, marking you with teeth and tongue. If he could, he would devour you whole, mark you until everyone that ever saw you knew who you belonged to. No, no belong wasn’t the correct word. You never belonged to them, you and he were parts of a whole, the five of you fit together like missing pieces, making something that seemed unreal at times. You had given yourself willingly, and so had they, fell from one day to the next, ready for anything with arms wide open as long as the others were right there. And they always were.

You finally spoke, the words cracked and pushed through a sob. “I’m gonna cum,” you cried out, hold finally tightening on him, like you were ripped from the fog you were in as you felt the cords of pleasure tightening until they were almost painful, desire wrapping you in its loving hold.

“Cum for me, baby,” he purred out. “Let me feel you.”

And you did, back arching and mouth parting as you practically screamed, fat tears rolling down your cheeks before you could even think to try and stop them. You moaned, sobbing right after as he pushed you through your orgasm, himself quick to follow as your walls fluttered around him. He groaned, rocking into you slowly, letting the both of you come down slowly, dragging out the ecstasy as long as he could. You whined, the sound taut in the back of your throat, and he shushed you, peppering your face with kisses, especially over the tears.

“You did so good,” he cooed, exhaustion finally settling into his bones. “So good, darlin’. Like you were made for me.” He pressed a kiss to your forehead then, sighing as he pulled out. You whined again at the loss, but he silenced it with a kiss to your lips before sitting back. “I’ll be right back. Let me go grab something to clean us up.”

Your hand shot forward, gripping his arm tighter than you had all night, eyes flying open. “Don’t leave me.”

“I won’t be gone for more than a second, baby.” Still, you whimpered, and he felt his heart drop. “Do you want to come with me, or do you want to just clean up in the morning.”

“Morning. In the morning.”

And how could he ever deny you when you begged like that. He sighed and nodded, letting you pull him down onto the bed with you, your body curling around him instantly. “You know I’m gross right now,” he mumbled half-heartedly, his eyes already drooping closed.

“Don’t care,” you grumbled back. “Love you.”

“I love you too, y/n. More than you’d ever know.”

[variety-fangirl]

could you do like an enemies with benefits w/ rafe please

Won't Admit It / Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

Summary: Mentions of JJ sparks jealousy in Rafe, your enemy and fuck buddy, that prompt him to show you who you really belong to.

Warnings: 18+ NO MINORS SHOO smut (unprotected PinV, jealousy fucking, rough, spanking, choking, degradation and praise kink, male receiving oral, fingering, mouth fucking, some overstimulation play), enemies/fuck buddies, possessive/jealous Rafe.

Author's note: Of course :D Thank you so much for requesting and I hope this turned out the way you wanted and liked it! Basically, porn with a little bit of plot for explanation, enjoy my loves. Liking, reblogging, and commenting really help me out! Thank you :)

Word count: 1.6k

"You think that shit is funny, hmm?" Rafe spits angrily as he slams your bedroom door shut, you were thankful your parents weren't home to question what was happening, they would not be happy with how Rafe was speaking to you. Rolling your eyes as you cross your arms, leaning against the cool wall behind you. Rafe paced back and forth as he ran his hand through his messy hair in annoyance, you always managed to get under his skin without trying and he hated that. "And you care why?" you question, rolling your head lazily to look at the bookcase beside you. Rafe's head spun to look in your direction, so quickly that you thought it would pop off, but unfortunately, it didn't. Rafe stormed toward you with angry intent, his hand instantly wrapping around your throat with enough pressure to almost stop your air supply.

Rafe hated that he didn't want to hurt you, he simply just wanted to make a point. Not that he would ever admit that out loud to you or himself. He used his free hand to force you to meet his eye, a burning gaze of hate and desire staring back at you. "You know our agreement, your mine to fuck only. Or is one cock not enough for you, slut? Throwing yourself at JJ all night just to get my attention, pathetic." Rafe's mouth was mere inches from your own, his alcohol-tainted breath fanning across your face. There was something tempting and dangerous about teasing Rafe, pushing him to fill your deepest desires because of his jealous and possessive nature. It forced him to claim you as his, show you who you belonged to despite no label. Everyone knew you belonged to him, there was no questioning it and so men stayed away from you. Well, your friends were the only ones who didn't know.

"Seems not, eh? Maybe I'm tired of being someone's dirty little secret and being with someone who'd fuck me like I actually belong to them because I'm actually theirs," you smirked as you pushed your back off the wall to walk away. But you didn't get far because Rafe's hand was back around your neck, pushing your back against the wall once again as his lips collided with yours. You could feel all the emotions Rafe was pouring into the kiss, anger, frustration, jealousy, and lust that was fuelling his actions. Without breaking the kiss, Rafe picked you up with ease and wrapped your legs around his waist. Your arms instinctively snaked around his head, tangling your fingers into the hair at the back of his head. Rafe groaned into the kiss as your hips ground against his crotch and fingers pulled at his hair, just the way he liked.

Rafe carried you to your bed as his hands worked on removing your shirt, your own hands reaching to pull his off also. It was hectic and passionate, the way you both raced to strip the other of your clothing and before either knew it, you were both bare for the other. "You're mine." He growled against your lips. Your back harshly landed on the bed, your body bouncing slightly at the contact and then you were pinned beneath Rafe. Like a predator about to devour his prey, chaotic lust swirling in his blue eyes as he stared down at you. Watching with panting breaths as he kissed his way down your body until he reached where you wanted him most. "Look at how wet you are, you dirty slut." Rafe comments as two of his fingers dip into your wet waiting hole, a moan escaping as he pumped slowly.

"Who makes you this wet?" Rafe demanded as his eyes peer up at you, his head dipping in preparation to attack your pussy. You look down at him and smirk, "JJ does." you tease, knowing full well it would piss him right off. Rafe's eyes widen with anger, his hand once again around your neck as he hovers over you. You simply stare at him with a smirk, unphased by his action. "By the time I'm down with you, you won't remember who that pogue is. I'll make sure you'll only be screaming my name." He growled as his fingers pumped in and out quickly, hitting your g-spot over and over again, causing your eyes to roll back in your head. But as you could feel yourself getting close, your pussy clenching around his fingers, Rafe pulled away.

Your eyes shot open to stare questioningly at him, about to yell. "What? You think you can pull that bullshit of saying another man's name and still get to cum? No chance baby." Rafe removes his fingers and moves to stand next to your bed, ushering for you to follow him. You sat on the edge of the bed with a drenched pussy that itched for release, but nevertheless, you would do as he said. Rafe collected your hair into a ponytail in his fist whilst grabbing your chin with his other so you would look up at him. "You're going to show me how sorry you are, and if you're a good girl for me, then maybe I'll let you come." You could feel yourself get wetter at his words if that was even possible but you did, biting your lip at how turned on a simple sentence made you. Rafe directed your face to his awaiting hard erection, his face was neutral but his eyes gave him away with how expressive they were for what was about to happen.

Using your hand, you directed his leaking tip into your awaiting mouth, your mouth watering at the taste of him. Rafe hissed at the overwhelming sensation of his cock entering your mouth, your tongue wrapping around him gently. Moaning, you took him as far as you could until he was hitting the back of your throat. "That's it, such a good girl." Rafe began fucking your mouth gently to begin with, until you tapped the side of his thigh, the signal you gave when you wanted him to take control and fuck your mouth. Rafe groaned happily and immediately picked up his speed, relentlessly fucking your mouth. You relaxed your throat and mouth as much as they would allow, succumbing yourself to his pleasure as he wished. And as you looked up at the sight in front of you, Rafe's head was thrown back and his mouth hung open as he used your hair in his fist to hold your head still so he fuck your mouth better.

You could feel him getting close and you fully prepared for him to cum in your mouth but was surprised when he pulled you off him. Gasping as he pulled you up and pushed you onto the bed, his cock at your entrance. Rafe forced you to stare into his eyes as he entered you slowly, loving the way your mouth opened and eyes widened at the sensation of him filling you whole. Rafe was addicted to your reactions as he fucked and pleasured you, he knew full damn well that he was the only one who could make you feel this way, that one else would compare. Because he felt the same when you did too, neither planning to admit their want for the other because of being on opposing sides. You both moan as he begins thrusting slowly, to begin with, so you could get used to his size.

As Rafe began to thrust harder, hitting your g-spot all over again, pushing you to the edge already. "That's it baby, cum all over my cock. Come for me, now." Rafe commanded with a groan, your clenching overwhelming him with pleasure that he could have cum then and there but was determined to show you who you belonged to once and for all. You gasp and screamed as you threw your head back and closed your eyes as the pleasure overtook your body, until you exploded in euphoric bliss. Rafe fucked you through your orgasm, not letting up for a second, determined to prolong your pleasure as long as possible. Even when you came down from your high, Rafe didn't give you a moment to recover as he put you on all fours and re-entered you.

You scream in pleasure, the pain and pleasure of being overstimulated too good. The new angle brought a whole new level of pleasurable sensations that tingled through your body, his cock hitting deeper inside you. You stuff your mouth into the pillow to quiet your screams and loud moans, in case someone walked past outside or your neighbours got annoyed. But Rafe didn't seem to like that and pulled your head back so you couldn't cover your mouth and purposely slam into you roughly so you would scream loudly. "Do not be quiet, everyone needs to know who's making you feel so good," Rafe demanded, his palm colliding with the plump skin of your asscheek, causing you to whimper. Another slap was placed against the other cheek harshly, heightening the feeling of him fucking you deeply to a whole new level.

You could feel yourself getting close again, breathless moans escaping you as you clenched around his cock. "That's it, baby, cum around my cock again." You could feel the stuttering of his hips, letting you know he was close too. Rafe's fingers reached around and rubbed quick circles on your clit as he continued to fuck you harshly. You came so hard that you saw stars in your visions, moans and screams ripping from you. Rafe followed quickly behind you, moaning loudly as he emptied himself inside your pussy, fucking you both through your highs until neither could anymore. Rafe collapsed next to you on the bed, both laying still as you both try to catch your breaths. You lay on your stomach, eyes closed with exhaustion, feeling the gentle tingles of Rafe's fingers tracing patterns on your back. Opening your eyes slowly you catch Rafe smiling as he stares at you, something that was rare to find with him, but at that moment, you smile back thankfully.

[ichor-for-the-incubus]

Corruption || Part 1

Basically a story written in first person. Highly inspired by alter-humanity stuff related to perceiving myself as an incubus. But hey perhaps others will find interest in this as well. Additionally writing is always a nice way to get out some... interesting feelings. I'm starting this at a more suggestive area and slowly going to let the story spiral out into being incredibly sexual and depraved.

Side note: The genitalia of the MC will change on and off in this in a sorta mind-fuckey way based on him being an incubus and is done by the narrator on purpose. It's kinda similar to if a trans guy were to put on/take off a prosthetic but more so done with magic. This will be a thing that remains the same throughout the entirety of the series. Default and when topping he typically will have a dick. For bottoming (still domming) he has bottom growth and a cunt.

Content Warning: Religious speech, corruption, face fucking/blow-job, power bottom, degradation, primal predator/prey language,

I want to corrupt a young priest- a man who just swore himself to god and came out of Seminary. A kind and devout pastor, who has yet to be taken and coerced by lust and gluttony for power in his position of the head of a congregation. It is only right and just for me as an incubus to corrupt him in the most pleasurable and freeing way. He would not know it, but I would be saving him from an even worse fate- the hands of a callous and controlling god wrapped around his throat. I mourn for all the souls who would never get a taste of true euphoria. But he… he still has a chance, and perhaps he could take his congregation with him, if luck so allows. He's far too trusting, too kind, too open to the ideas of others. If it weren't me, someone else would get to him first.

Upon entering the church one faithful night I found myself walking up to his side. As much as one may hope their holy structures may keep the demons at bay- the sins of those before them have tainted the buildings purity, there are no seals unbroken. I can keep the form of a human well, I dressed myself up and put on a desperate, lost look. I was battling through horrific times and experiences, I was dealing with so many sinful thoughts and found it hard to keep myself from indulgence. I told him I had turned away from God in a foolish bout of teenage rebellion some years ago, and now had come to find how empty and lost I was without him. The lies came with great ease- the same lies I had spoken since my birth. The false allegiance to a being I held nothing but contempt towards.

He listens to my sorry tale, he comforts me and asks me if I have a place to go, and I tell him with no uncertainty that I no longer have anyone there for me or anything of my own. I am alone in this cold desolate world due to my own foolishness and vanity. "Worry not child, I will give you aid, you will be cared for and given a place to stay, however small it may be," his words do not fall on deaf ears. "First I must make sure of something for the sake of your own comfort, my child. The only place we do have that you may be able to stay until you get on your feet is one of the rooms in my home. My house is within the grounds of the church and as such is open to those such as yourself- you need not pay any rent to stay and I will not by any means go into your space without permission or reason," he explained, taking a step back. He seemed pleased when I nodded my head in acceptance of his proposition.

"Thank you father! Surely there is something I can do to make up for your generosity, some way I can service the lord for moving me to come and speak with you when I'm in such a sorry state myself," I swooned, looking to the pastor. I dared not let him see my eyes trail to where I could see the faint outlines of his figure. I had to be patient, it takes time for a hunter to catch their prey. I would be given no satisfaction if he didn't come begging for my body himself.

"I suppose there is one thing you could help me with for the time being," the beautiful man walked over to me, placing a hand on my shoulder. He had not an ounce of awareness of what creature he was entertaining. I looked over to him, my eyes widening with faux hope.

"What is it father? I would do anything if it would make things easier for you, I dare not impede upon you more than I ought to," my words were sincere. I did truly plan to carry out any task he were to assign me. There would always be ways to get closer to him if I were given such tasks.

"I need to finish up tidying the area, the evening service ended a few hours ago and all the staff have gone home. I typically clean this old building myself, I don't want to burden others but, since you have insisted on wanting to aid me, I don't see why I should deny you," he lead me to a backroom and guided me through the basics of how to start cleaning up the tables and pews- his church was open to many people, and the sick were by no means rejected. It was vital to clean the space to make sure it would continue to be safe for others. I listened carefully and did my best after he left my side to begin. I grabbed a bucket out from under a sink and filled it with soapy water, making my way back into the main room. Soon I was washing the pews, my eyes flicking over temporarlity to the young priest as he left to yet another back room. Soon he was by my side, cleaning not far away from me as well. His robe had been removed, likely so that he would be able to perform his duties with far more ease. He never noticed the way I dressed him down with my sinful eyes. His ass was so perfectly shaped and his pants by no means hid it. His shirt though modest gave me far more than when he wore that unmanageable thing.

I went back to my work, but as I turned a corner behind another row of pews I "accidentally" fell, the water in the bucket soaking through my thin clothes and causing me to slip onto the floor. The father, ever so diligent, made his way over to me. I could sense the heat rise to his face as he noticed what had happened. The clothes that had previously hid everything so well now were sheer. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to cause such a mess," I scrambled to pick up the bucket, desperately trying to wipe up the water with my rag.

"Be still my child," he helped me back to my feet. "There are towels in the back, but it seems from what you have told me, there is not much in the way of clothes for you… as I said my home is on the grounds. I can lend you some clothes though they may not fit properly."

"You are far too kind, Father," I smiled softly. He showed me where the towels were and led me out of the building with him after he had cleaned up my spill. He led me to his home and showed me the room in which I would be staying- luckily it had its own bathroom as well.

"I'll leave you some clothes for when you get back out of the shower as well, I don't think it could be too comfortable to have that all on your skin," he sighed softly. I nodded, taking off my shirt and unbuckling my belt. He looked taken aback.

"Oh come on Father, you have no need to worry, we are both men after-all. Here it will be better if you take my clothes to put them in the wash rather than me leaving them on your floor to ruin it," I spoke softly, a false innocence put him at ease. I stripped fully and handed him my old clothes taking the towel around me and heading to the bathroom. He was so pure… so beautifully naïve, and yet I could tell he looked at my dick just as much as he did my ass when I turned my back. I wanted to take him and make him know what I knew. My plans had begun… and I already had a good roadmap for tonight. Soon, I will meet him in his dreams.

/////// NIGHT ///////

He was back at the church, cleaning dutifully as usual when he heard the clatter and unpleasant thud and metallic clang. The young priest turned to the source of the noise, seeing me drenched in the soapy water that had overturned. I shook my head, my discomfort evident on my face. "Ugh I can't stand when things get sopping wet like this…" I mumbled to myself. I slowly peeled off the thin clothes that stuck to my skin. The priest paused, his face flushing even more than it had in reality. But this was his dream, his mind, and a part of him knew it wasn't fully real. He didn't stop me as I stripped myself entirely, shuddering as if I were cold. "Father, I apologize for making a mess of things…" I trailed off, slowly steadying myself to my feet. My body was on full display for him, there was no way to hide anything whatsoever. But this was a dream in his eyes, and it would be made into his desire. He saw me as innocent and not as I was, so I showed no signs of awareness of how inappropriate my state was.

"Ah… you," he paused, struggling to gather his bearings. I walked over to him and clung to his body, shuddering as I did so. Of course it made sense I was cold, and it was by no means a strange thing to him either. "Oh, you're shaking," he put a hand on my shoulder and I soon felt another hands on my back steadying me. It was the perfect opportunity. I looked up to him, my eyes filled with a look of that of prey.

"I'm sorry father, I didn't mean to…I really didn't," I pressed my soft body against his. I feigned trying to absorb his warmth and in the process soon felt something pressing hard against my stomach. "Oh… I'm sorry… I didn't mean to cause you so many problems," I frowned. "It's my own fault for tempting you, I should have considered what my foolish behavior would cause."

"No, it's not your fault child, bodies react to things in strange ways," he shook his head, stroking my hair. I could feel his heart thundering in his chest. Such a innocent man…

"No, Father, it is my fault, it's only right I make things better," I slid to my knees on the ground, making quick work with my hands to undo his belt. He flushed again, about to stop me, but he was still somewhat aware it was a dream. Certainly it wouldn't hurt for him to let it happen. After all, he hadn't made me, it wasn't his own sin. But that was just the excuse he made to himself as my hand wrapped around his shaft and his pants and boxers had fallen to the floor. I slowly brought my head down, softly pressing my tongue against his tip and teasing him.

"If you so insist..." His breath hitched as he tried not to force himself into my mouth, a clear look of desperation on his face. I slowly took him into my mouth, being careful not to let my teeth touch him, my tongue dancing on his throbbing sheath. The taste of him filled my mouth and the lust that came from his body filled my hunger. I continued my work, slowly taking him further into my mouth, pressing my head down on his length before pulling back until my tongue was back to teasing his tip. He became more and more desperate. I looked up at him, tempting him to force me down on his cock and face fuck me. He seemed to be holding back for now. I went back to sucking him off, this time deepthroating him as I felt him get closer and closer. I moved a hand down to the floor to steady myself and massaged his balls with my free hand. Soon I pulled my mouth off of his cock again with a pop, pausing to catch my breath. I returned to worshipping his cock, dragging my tongue up his length and teasing him more. Soon he looked barely able to hold himself back and as I slowly took him into my mouth and started to bob my head again, he slammed my head down all the way, unable to stop himself from fucking my mouth for the last stretch of time before he came down my throat. I shuddered, my own need clear in my own body. I swallowed his seed, shuddering again as he finally let go of my head and I was able to pull away. "I'm sorry," he let out in in airy breath. "I don't know what came over me, I was far too forceful to you."

"I don't mind it... but... I'm sorry I'm far too embarrassed to admit it..." I trailed off. My feigned ignorance came back and I slowly stood up, his eyes fell on my body. My throbbing clit-dick and dripping cunt were enough to make my need clear.

"I see, I apologize I should have considered things further," he frowned. I nodded, walking over to one of the pews and bending over it, stretching my cunt open and glancing back at him, shuddering.

"Please.... sir, I need you to help me, I can't stand being so empty when you're so able to make me full~" I mumbled. "And it may help you more, it's only fair I let you use me for being so insolent." I could tell his ability to hold back was diminishing. And my body was far too tempting for him. Yet he seemed not to be willing to go as far as he could. I shuddered as I felt is hand slide between me, his clumsy fingers brushing against my clit. "Am I not appealing enough for you? Or are you embarrassed by how poor you are with your hands and body?" I teased. I could sense how frustrated he was, how much he was struggling to decide how much further he would allow things to go... even in his dreams. He pressed a finger into me, slowly feeling around. He clearly had no experience, his awkwardness was pathetic. But I would play along, he wasn't ready for me to take control and use him as I wished.

"You're tempting me... so much, but I cannot give in... I was wrong to want to take advantage of you as much as I have already," and yet he was pressing another finger into me, and even with his clumsiness, I couldn't deny the pleasure it gave. His other hand went to my clit, and he seemed to be far better in his treatment of that. He pushed back the skin and rubbed my tip, causing me to let out a soft moan.

"You're doing so good~ Won't you play with me a little more, defile me the way you seemed to wish? You already turned me away from god to worship you, it's only fair you do the same," my words fell on deaf ears. His stroke both inside of my cunt and on the tip of my clit were painfully slow and drawn out. Before I could ever reach my end he had pulled away and wiped his hands on his own clothes, seeming to gather his bearings.

"This is wrong... I truly have sinned," as he spoke those words I found myself back in my bed, cast out of his dream. I knew it would be only a short time before he would awake.

I made my way out of my room, and passed to his own. He would not be able to know I was there, I knew well how to conceal myself. He awoke in his bed and looked down at his hands before laying his head in them.

"How could I let my lust so consume me..." he murmured to himself. He let his hands fall before he clasped them together and broke into a prayer- begging that his god may forgive how much he had desired to have me service him and show myself off that he had seen it in a dream. How shameful it was that he saw me with a cunt out of his desire to breed the effeminate man who had came into his care. He had no idea I was truly the one at fault, and he never had to know either.

He was already beginning to fall from grace, and I had barely entered his life. Perhaps he had been more sinful from the start, or weaker to the whims of his own lust than men I had corrupted before. I made my way back to my own room and to the bathroom. I was far too hard and worked up to think.

I was still filled with a desperate need to get off. He had no way to know his struggle was what brought me to my own orgasm in his home. I came to the idea of what he may become in the final stages. I wanted to ruin him and make myself his new god, and nothing would get in my way. This was only the beginning.

[buried-in-the-archives]

I've been in my feels a bit this week, so here's a little emotional damage via Jon|Daisy

Daisy hated Jon. She hated him the moment she laid eyes upon him, a predators gaze looking back. Meek, but she knew the hunger in his eyes very well. 

He had tainted her partner. She could smell the change, and almost hear the tune that played in that horrid temple. A velvety call,  one Basira seemed open to; blunting the song of blood. 

Daisy focused on the sharp discordant notes of violence, singing to her sweetly, promising to deliver her satisfaction. Her duty to rid the world of twisted things. To feel them go limp and lifeless beneath her. She could be spared from looking at a living thing, a breathing thing, a feeling thing if it were dead. The song of blood would drown out her inner voice screaming, “They were a person once! We knew them!”

She had imagined chasing Jon down a hundred different paths, cornering him. Her teeth were sharp, ripping into his throat with ease. It had made her mouth water. 

She thinks this over as she looks at the man, slumped pathetically over his desk, neck twisted at an odd angle.

His eyes are wide and unfocused, drooling slightly as his mouth forms around stolen words. 

She doesn't hate him. Not anymore. 

She feels a warmth in her chest where incandescent rage once sat.

When Jon is awake; that hungry gaze looks at her kindly, accepting what she is. They have both shared the pain of being predator and prey.

She'll retreat to his office after Basira gazes longingly at her edges, trying to will the beast she once was back into existence. Basira is dismayed to find her vision lacking. 

Daisy wants to tell her about the elation to feel her soul regaining form and strength, and the fear that grows daily as her body continues to wither - the result of an unwitting bargain struck - only one can be nourished now, and she knows not which form of death she fears most. 

Looking to Jon, gaunt and sunken - she fears that they may both fade away clinging to the miniscule scraps of humanity they clutch so tightly. No one else seems to see it. No one else seems to care. 

Neither is what they should be nor what they so desperately want to be. 

They hold each other on cold nights, shunned and forgotten. Jon had joked that they should file themselves away in the discredited section - smile faltering when Basira nodded. That was exactly where his cot would lay. 

They hold each other as they whimper, hold tightening as they meet in a shared dream. “At least we're not alone”, she looks kindly at her friend, a hazy shape with a thousand eyes. He used to fill her  with terror but now….now she can rest. 

[hebuiltfive]

Thundertober Day One: Father

Thundertober is here!! This the first time I'm doing a monthly prompt challenge (I hope I'm doing all of this right) so I am both excited and nervous. I'll be posting them over on AO3 too, if you prefer reading over there. Hope you enjoy!

Warnings for: implied child abuse, needles and just general angst because this is the Hood we're talking about here. The Hood's current plan for his niece means he has to deal with some unwanted memories of a certain parental figure. Tagging: @thunder-tober @skymaiden32

In the grand scheme of life, very little had changed in the years since he’d left this residence. There were minute, subtle details, such as the cobwebs collecting between opened doorways or mould growing in patches on parts of the ceilings, but generally the house still managed to evoke that same suffocatingly claustrophobic feeling that he’d learned to loathe.

He wouldn’t have been surprised if he saw a ghost flitting down one of the corridors, howling like a lone wolf for the good old days that were long gone. He couldn’t relate, not only for his lack of belief in the paranormal — he’d never bought into those kinds of superstitions — but also from his lack of having any of the good old days.

His past, in this house, was tainted by sour memories of a father who had never truly cared for him. Bitterness was a familiar flavour, an acquired taste that he’d grown used to over the years. If Belah Gaat was ever to become a ghost, — unlikely as this may have been in his opinion — his history with the terraced house would leave him haunting the property for eternity just out of spite because, for almost half a century, he had been the one haunted by the very nature of that building he now stood in again.

In many ways, the human brain was an impressive feat. Very few people would disagree with that line of thought. The way humanity was able to think and process and plan wasn’t necessarily exclusive to the homines sapientes brain but it was undeniably unique compared to many other animals.

For example, take a lion who was stalking his prey, watching their target from the sidelines, and using their surroundings, perhaps somewhere as cliché as the Savanna, to their advantage. Shrubs and bushes would be utilised to provide ample hiding spots for the predator. Their eyes never leave their target — perhaps today the lion has his heart set on a juicy looking antelope — right up until the opportune moment to strike. The lion stalks and ambushes, but that level of cunning that humanity had developed was lacking. Ambushes were not carefully laid plans.

In this sense, spiders were the closest Belah could think of when it came to similarities with the human mind. Though they would wait for their prey to fall into their cleverly crafted web, arachnids had shown evidence of luring their target into their traps, striking once they were well and truly stuck.

That was precisely what he was doing in back that godforsaken house.

Belah had never wanted to return to the crumbling remnants of his family home, but he had a message that needed to be sent. It was a message that he’d been repeating over and over for years now, only the recipient hadn’t cared to listen. He’d make her listen this time, because this time he was pulling out the big guns.

Tanusha had been trained well, as much as that pained him to admit. He'd barely heard her enter the former residence, but the creak from the rusted hinges gave her away. Still, it wasn’t as loud as he’d expected her to have been. He’d offer her praise for that if he wasn’t so determined to break her.

The dust-covered floors drowned out the echo of her footsteps. Couple that with her talent for stealth, and he soon lost any trace of where she could have gone. Though the house wasn’t large by any means, Tanusha had an acute ability to creep up on people. He couldn’t have that today.

Today he was in charge of the surprises.

Belah couldn’t deny how much Tanusha’s skills irked him. They felt like a slap to the face, not only because he couldn’t claim to be the mastermind who had helped her nurture all her talents but also due to her constantly refusing to work for him. Oh, to master her skillset, her mind, her abilities… Belah would have given anything, but time and time and time again had his niece denied him her services. Time and time and time again had she put her other family above her own flesh and blood. It was growing tiresome. Today, he swore, would be the last day she denied him.

They were family and he was going to show her just what that meant, even if it required him having to venture into some of the darker moments of his past that he would have much rather forgotten.

He had to get her to see.

Family was important. Loyalty was more so. The endless beatings, the constant emotional degradation Belah had received at the hands and from the mouth of his father would have been enough for him to have turned his back on him long, long before his father’s unfortunate demise, but he never did. Despite the torture his father had put him through for all those years, Belah had listened to his father when he spoke of what family meant and he never once betrayed him by being disloyal. Belah wouldn’t have even called his father’s murder (officially not committed at his own hands) as a betrayal. That, he’d claim, was a mercy.

Kyrano had once known that loyalty too. His brother had once held loyalty in high regard just as Belah did. The claims of loyalty he made now were foolish and hollow. There was no greater test of one’s piety than in how they treated their family and Kyrano’s allegiance to the Tracy family and not to him symbolised his brother’s disloyalty in swathes.

Family stayed true to one another no matter what, at least that was what Belah had so often preached. It fell on deaf ears with Kyrano and then, in turn, with his niece. How annoying it was that she took after her father so much. Tanusha’s potential had she only been trained and nurtured under his house, under his rules…

Today, he’d teach her the true meaning of loyalty. What it meant to be family. If he had to dredge up some uncomfortable moments from his own past, so be it.

He sensed her presence behind him before she could sneak up on him.

Belah had hoped his appearance would come as a surprise to her and, by the look on his niece’s face that he spied from the broken vanity mirror in front of him, his plan had succeeded. For months now Belah had led Tanusha on one wild goose chase after another. His aim had been simple: to instil such little optimism in finding him at any location so when she finally did find him, at this very specific location, she would caught off guard.

His lips twisted into a crooked grin.

His plan had paid off.

“Tanusha, my dear, what a wonderful surprise.”

He turned to face her, arms outstretching in a welcome that was anything but sincere.

Her gloved fists rose instantly, but he knew she wouldn’t strike just yet. Curiosity, he hoped, would get the better of her. He could tell by the look in her eyes. They were so similar to his own. Belah often wondered how much she despised that fact.

“What are you doing here?” There was no patience in her voice, no urgency, but he could practically feel the agitation seeping from her. Whatever her plan had been, his appearance had thrown it out of the window.

“Now, now. I should think a ‘thank you’ is in order.”

“A thank you?” Tanusha practically spat. “I can’t think of a reason to ever thank you.”

Dust from the remains of the house had fallen and collected on one of his sleeve cuffs. He simply wiped the flecks away with two swipes of his hand. “So impolite. Here I thought my dear brother had taught you better than that.”

It was obvious that he was trying to get a rise out of her, trying to test the waters to see how far he could push her until she broke, but she still took the bait. Tanusha straightened her spine, adding an inch or two to her height at the mere mention of Kyrano.

The reaction made his smile morph to a smirk.

“You don’t get to talk about my father.”

“Why not? We are brothers.”

“By blood, maybe, but I think he’s made it very clear — we’ve both made it very clear — that we want nothing to do with you.”

“Ah, yes. Chosen family and all that.” Belah could barely contain his smarminess, taking a couple of steps towards his niece.

To his surprise, she didn’t back up.

“I’m going to ask you again; what are you doing here?”

Belah simply shrugged. “I thought I’d put an end to this cat and mouse game.”

“No.” Tanusha sounded doubtless, so sure that she knew the reason behind this particular move. Whther she truly felt that way or whether it was an attempt to try and throw him off guard, Belah couldn’t tell. “You’d never turn yourself in,” she continued. “Not after months of being on the run, which, by the way, is coming to an end soon. The GDF are tracking my location and they’ll be here—”

Belah sighed indignantly and gestured to the room they were standing in.

“This room you’re standing in is very significant, Tanusha. Tell me why.”

She blinked at him, stunned at his sudden morph into a lecturer.

When she didn’t reply, he repeated, “Tell me why.”

“I don’t care about who’s room this, and I don’t see how it’s relevant—”

“Your grandfather’s.”

Oh, how he delighted in watching Tanusha’s face drop!

“You never met the man,” Belah continued, now unable to hide his triumph in his tone, “but he was to me in many ways I am to you.”

Tanusha had grown paler. He wasn’t sure if it was from the first bombshell he’d dropped or the second.

Either way, he wasn’t about to let up yet.

“Does it shock you, Tanusha?”

When his niece didn’t offer a response, Belah continued. “My father was good at many things. He was an astute businessman, a man who excelled because of his drive and passion, but the one thing he was never good at being was a father.”

Tanusha remained silent, taking in the room with a different set of eyes know. She had grown more curious at this relic of her heritage, no matter how decayed and decrepit it had become.

“Do you know why I brought you here?”

“For a pity party?”

Belah managed to hide his irritation well, shoving his immediate response to her rude comment to the side so he didn’t ruin his plans. He had spent so long crafting them after all, it would have been a waste to throw it all away now that she was here.

“No. I brought you here to remind you of what family is. What it means. My father failed to love me, failed to care for me, yet I still remained by his side, loyal until the end. It is something you and your own father have seemingly lost in translation somewhere along the line.”

Tanusha sighed as though she were exasperated. “Is this some sort of ploy to get me to work for you again because, if it is, uncle, it isn’t going to work.”

That sickly smile that promised nothing but evil returned to his lips. “I knew words were never going to win you back, but I had to make the first impression worthwhile. Hold her.”

The command had been aimed to his henchman behind her who had done a fantastic job at getting the drop on his niece. It was no easy feat, but Belah wouldn’t ever congratulate the man for doing the job he’d been paid to do.

Tanusha failed to dodge his henchman’s lunge for her, keeping her in place with a firm grip whilst Belah advanced. Whilst she tried to free herself, she hadn’t taken notice of her uncle, not until she felt the sharp prick in her neck. Questioning eyes found his and he merely shrugged.

“It’s a light sedative so we can move you somewhere more… pleasant than this for the rest of our discussion. You didn’t really think I’d allow you to keep me talking until your friends arrived, did you?”

He could see her lose her vision, lose her grip on her senses as the drug pulled her under.

“I will get you to see, just as my father made me see, Tanusha, and then you’ll understand. Then, you’ll choose to join me. Then, we can be unstoppable.”

[peachymilkandcream]

Hi. Could you write something like

a kidnapped evelyn in the basement with her many babies/children that levi forced her to have

I like your writing 👾

No Escape|Levi x Evelyn AU

(A/N: Thank you so much 👾Anon! It always makes my day when someone says they like my writing. This one is kind of inspired off a true crime story I read but not as fucked. Hope you enjoy!)

WARNINGS: implied noncon/dubcon, manipulation, kidnapping, forced marriage, forced pregnancy, mind breaking, misogyny, domestic violence, violence, staged suicide, etc.

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

Levi watched time and time again as men paraded through asking for the chance to be with his beloved. While she had done the right thing and rejected him each time solidified that she wasn't safe to be left out in the public. One of these days a man would actually succeed and his bride to be would be lost forever. Even if he did kill the man eventually there was a risk of him tainting Evelyn before Levi could train her into the wife he wanted.

That, boy, Reiner Braun was the latest predator daring to challenge Levi for his prey. As if he stood a chance, the child had a crush, one that would be stamped out indefinitely since he wasn't old enough, but fear still made beads of sweat form on his neck since Evelyn could wait until he was older, taller, more grown, and have him steal her away forever.

Out of all he had the nicer personality as well, the others arrogant thinking that they were hot shit who were anywhere near on her level. Naïve fools, only he would ever be good enough for her. Only he was worthy.

Unlike all the other Evelyn wasn't rejecting this one as well as he thought. Even though he hadn't confessed his feelings it was obvious where he stood and she still allowed him to breathe the same air as her. If he didn't keep a close eye she was going to turn into a little whore.

"Oh he's a child Levi, with a little crush. I can't just be mean to him and say he can never speak to me again, plus he's a fellow Scout, I'm not as coldhearted as you."

"He's disrespecting you by even entertaining the idea of you in a romantic light. It's disgusting."

Her carefree smile suddenly vanished, a look of annoyance coming to her face. He hated that look. "Levi we've talked about this before. I'm my own person. I thought after I left in the Underground you understood that."

"You mean after I saved you from a short life of rape and death."

Levi always liked her fire, but never when it was turned on him like right now. "How dare you. I don't care for your comments, and until you apologize I'm leaving."

He scoffs. "Don't be difficult. Since they died I know you can't sleep without me."

"Then I guess I'm in for some sleepless nights."

As she walked out a sense of fury burned in him, he'd been disrespected once before, never again.

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

Evelyn kept to her word that she would not share his bed until he apologized, since she hadn't learned just yet what her place was in this world. She'd learn. Her place was his wife and mother of his children, even if he couldn't obtain that legally. In spirit they would be married, he even bought the rings today to prove it.

The poor and sweet fool trusted him too much, so stupid to know just what he had planned for her. So when he dropped a few pills into her drink she didn't even question the slight taste or cloudiness to the water. Even going so far as to let Levi lay her down on his couch so she could rest.

"Rest well my sweet. You'll need it."

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

Evelyn awoke to the aching soreness between her legs, and a small puddle of blood. Her time of the month wasn't due yet and didn't explain her torn clothing.

Or Levi's smug grin as he stood in front of her.

"What is this Levi? Where am I?"

"Somewhere safe, from grief, or pain."

"Let me go this instant."

"Shhh..." He comforted. "Stress won't help you get pregnant."

"What!? Have you lost your damn mind Levi? I demand you let me go."

"No no my pet, if anything I'm more sane than I've ever been. Do you know how long I've loved you? How long I've adored you from the shadows only to be written off and discarded?" He steps forward, gripping her hair tightly. "No longer. You will respect me, as your husband."

A wad of spit on his cheek earns her a slap across the face. "Listen to me, you'll do as I say or I will fucking kill you, understand!?"

Evelyn had never seen him this aggressive before, he was terrifying, and she believed every word of what he said.

"Alright Levi, alright. I won't talk back again."

That calmed him down, running his hands through his hair and giving a smile. "Good, I knew you were the one, so passive and perfect for me. Don't worry my dear." He caresses her cheek gently.

"You'll come to love me."

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

Levi's routine had become coming home from work and retreating to his basement to visit his little family. Wife, and many children. Ov er the years Evelyn had blessed him with many sons and daughters he could call his own. His perfect life wrapped up in one room.

He was truly blessed.

[soncfthewitch]

closed starter for @iviaw

The humid air of the Louisiana bayou was thick and heavy, a palpable weight pressing against Toby's skin and invading his lungs with a damp mustiness. A blanket of nacreous mist hung low over the dark waters as if the night exhaled a slow, lazy breath. Dissonant symphonies of nocturnal creatures echoed through the tangle of cypress trees, punctuated by the distant hooting of an owl and the haunting howl of a lone coyote. The mingling scents of wet earth, rotting leaves, and the sweet perfume of night-blooming jasmine irresistibly wild.

Amidst this symphony of night sounds, a different rhythm disturbed the nocturnal serenity. The frantic drumming of a heart-pumping fear-tainted blood echoed in Toby's ears. His hand, hot and unyielding as iron, closed around the trembling form of his prey, pressing the vampire against the rough bark of a gnarled tree. The creature's flesh was like spoiled silk beneath his palm, while the brittle snap-crackle of breaking bones was a discordant melody that sent a thrill of satisfaction coursing through him. Even here, in this murky, untamed corner of creation, the age-old dance of predator and prey played out in its grimly beautiful cadence.

"I do tire, you see, of the country pleasantries," Toby began, his voice a low, rich timbre that brushed against the night air like velvet over gravel. His tone was tinged in a cultivated British accent, a relic from a past life that seemed far removed from the bayou's untamed wilds. "Always asking, always chattering. One does find it rather wearisome. Yet, I've come to understand that fire...fire can be quite a persuasive instrument."

A literal spark in his palm echoed the flicker of mischief that danced in his eye. Gently, carefully, as if he were handling a newborn chick, he tightened his grip around the vampire's pale neck. The heat radiating from his hand intensified, growing incrementally hotter. Wisps of smoke began to unfurl from the contact point, curling upwards and quickly dissipating into the night. The sweet, acrid odor of burning flesh began to permeate the air, mixing with the bayou’s earthy perfume in a grotesque olfactory cocktail.

"My dear boy," Toby began, maintaining his firm grip as he looked into the vampire's terrified eyes. "I am well aware that you do not possess the artifact I seek. However, you reek of its magic. It's as if you've been rolling about in a field of lavender; the scent is so palpable." He paused, allowing the weight of his words to sink in. "Now, would you kindly be so good as to inform me of its whereabouts?"

[chibsandchill]

Effervescent

Chapter 4: Don't feed the hungry viperwolves

Tsu'tey x OC

Effervescent masterlist

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

Trudy's SAMSON rotorcraft thundered over the Pandoran landscape, heavy winds from the rotor blades disturbing animals and plants alike. A black speck of alien technology soaring over an untouched primeval landscape, a blob of destruction tainting an image of perfected peace and prosperity. Alva would wipe it off if she ever got the chance.

They swoop over tall trees, seas of grass and crystal clear waters, and cloud-wreathed mesas. Huge waterfalls cut the edges of grass-covered platoons and below churned water into thick layers of off-white foam and gentle sprays of mist. Trudy flew so close to one of them that Alva could stretch her hand out and feel the water flowing through her fingers.

Trooper Wainfleet leaned against his door gun as his small eyes scouted the sky for predators for he knew, just as well as the others bar Jake, that even the smallest of ikran held enough force to easily force them down. He wore both an exo-pack so that he could breathe, as the aircraft had both sides open, and body-armor, not that it would help him any. Alva thought him to be puny and unattractive, another splotch of wrong in her painting.

"Freedom at last," Alva mumbled with a wide grin, hand clutching a dozen or so of seeds. When Trudy leveled out her aircraft over a large stretch of forest and plains, Alva let them slip through her loose fingers. She hoped that wherever they fell they would thrive, just as she would. "Goodbye cage. Hello freedom."

As soon as the last of the hard shelled seed fell, Alva plopped down on the edge of the aircraft floor. Her long legs hung over the edge and cut through the air with vigorous kicks. A tingle spread from the very tips of her toes and up her spine as she looked down.

Trudy banks to follow a shallow stream where a pack of ayangtsìk – hammerheads in English, named so after the hammer-shaped head �� crowded together by the shore, a lone blue yerik waiting patiently behind them. A plethora of other animals grazed, flew and swum around them, everything from the shimmering scales of excotic colored fish-like creatures, great winged birds with razor-sharp feathers and teeth as long as her arms, to small felines with spotted and striped blue and purple fur and pouches hanging low beneath their bellies.

The stream turned into a river and they followed it until a long line of six-legged aysalioang galloped across the shallow waters. Alva spotted them just a few seconds before Trudy did and reached over to pinch Norm in the arm. His jaw dropped when he saw the creatures, gaping and gasping.

"Sturmbeest herd, one o'clock." Trudy called through the comms.

Grace leaned out the aircraft. "Looks like a bull, six cows and a juvenile!"

"The bull has that red on the dorsal armor?" Norm asked, excitement rolling off of him in waves. Grace nodded with a smile.

The herd of buffalo-like creatures disappeared into the forest and Trudy's flying eventually led them to a huge lake with luscious forests surrounding it. Just like many of the waterholes around the wasteland Alva grew up in, an incredible amount of animals had come together to feast on the water; predators and prey alike. All colors of the rainbow made flesh merged together in packs and herds and groups and schools until barely any land was left for any others.

Startled by the sudden appearance of the aircraft, hundreds of ayfkio took flight. Some of them skimmed the blue waters, undeterred by the predators that lurked beneath the surface as they chased their own reflections and that of their kin, while others flew alongside the aircraft. The upper half of the aerial creatures was a stunning purple, the belly a dull yellow (along with the thin, stick-like arms), and the four wings a mixture of pinks, purple and blue mottling together on the leathery hide – each of them carrying a distinct pattern unique to them.

Alva cooed at them and offered her hand to them palm side up. One of the leading birds – the leader, she assumed – crooned at her, a mere flick of a blue-tinted wing brought it right up to her in the blink of an eye. Before Grace could protest, Alva leaned out further, making the offer of contact even clearer. The fkio's four eyes blinked in unison, a test perhaps for the animals of Pandora never closed all four eyes at once unless for sleep, and when her hand stayed unshaken and unmoved it nestled itself under her hand, hard head bumping into the soft flesh there.

She gasped.

"Alva be careful!" Grace shouted over the wind.

"They won't hurt me!" Alva shouted back, white teeth gleaming in the sun. "See?"

"Just because one of them is friendly doesn't mean all of them are! Are you going to behave like this with everything you see? What if you see a pack of hungry aynantang? Are you going to stick your hand out and pet them too?!"

Alva giggled, and the fkio flew off to rejoin its flock. "Silly, silly, Grace. I'm not stupid," she chided the older woman. "I won't try to pet the hungry aynantang. I'll feed them instead!"

The aircraft swerved to the side and the pack was left behind as the gentle lake turned into a steep waterfall and a mist-covered gorge. Trudy steers them into it, nose-diving headfirst hundreds of feet into the fall. Norm screamed.

"Yo, Chacón! Get some!" Wainfleet hollered.

Water hit their faces like bullets but Alva's grin stayed even as they rapidly approached the bottom of the gorge. Large boulders grew out of white foam, a constant stream of cool water throwing itself upon it. At the last second Trudy pulls the aircraft up and they narrowly avoid crashing.

"Can we go again?" Alva asked. "What a rush!"

Norm looked alarmingly green, fingers pale as they held onto one of the bars. Round eyes wide with shock, he shook his head. "No, no, no more."

Their pilot chuckled and veered away from the waterfall. With practiced ease, Trudy navigated the thick jungle and Wainfleet guarded them with his door-gun. Jake, for all his efforts, was dozing off from his position of being sandwiched in between Grace and Norm, though how he managed was a wonder to Alva as both of the scientists debated loudly and with an abundance of enthusiasm. Safe from the mind-numbing chatter in her pressurized cockpit, Trudy flew over the trees until only the great ayhelutral cast shadows upon the craft. The large trees towered above all else with just the massive bases reaching hundreds of feet taller than the terran redwood of old.

One day, I will make a kelutral my home, Alva thought as they flew past another one, but I will always sleep under the stars, as was our way.

Half an hour passed in the blink of an eye and Trudy guided the aircraft down to land in a small meadow. Lively, blue pxeyerik hopped away from the descending SAMSON, their blue backsides disappearing in thick bushes. The tall grass bent and shivered as it was beaten down in waves from the rotor-wash. Before the aircraft touched ground, Alva leapt from it, bent her head to avoid the rotor blades, before landing in a steady crouch. She dug her toes in the ground, smiling at the newfound sensation. A tingle spread from where the dug up dirt touched her skin and up until it buzzed behind her eyes.

Mere seconds after her, Jake tore the doorgun off the pintle mount and jumped off. He stumbled, arms waving wild at his sides before he recovered. Wainfleet followed him with his own gun held firm in steady hands, and together they circled the perimeter of the landing area. Slowly, Jake Sully turned into Jake the Marine, acting as if he had never left Venezuela.

Grace and Norm waited until it sat firm on ground until they jumped out, Grace running up to the cockpit to tell Trudy to shut the engine off.

"We're gonna stay awhile," she told the pilot through their mic.

Trudy shut it down, though it took awhile for Alva to be able to hear anything but the loud whirring of the blades, or choke on sudden bundles of hair pushed in her mouth. Jake, Grace and Norm all wore sand-colored clothing, though where the scientists carried utility belts with vials, readers and other useful equipment, Jake had been outfitted with a large knife on his thigh, a backpack with necessities and the doorgun.

Grace adjusted her belt. "Norm, your pack." She reminded the hairbrained Avatar driver. Wainfleet joined the four of them after finishing his round, but Grace shook her head and motioned for him to hang back. "Stay with the ship. One idiot with a gun is enough."

Jake frowned at the comment but grinned once he saw Alva forming small, delicate bunny ears behind Grace in an effort to cheer him up. She smiled bright and wide at him and waved.

"You da man, Doc," Wainfleet easily agreed with a laugh. "Y'all have fun out there!"

"You too, Wainfleet," Alva called back, "remember that viperwolves climb!"

It wasn't until they started moving into the forest that her brain caught up to the fact that she was out. Warbonnet ferns covered the forest floor and squid fruit trees hung by the base of the trees. As far as the eye could see were colors upon colors layered onto the green base. Pink chalice plants and green leaf pitchers stood side by side, and empty thistle buds crowded together with both cat ears and banshee of Paradises which lurked beneath low hanging branches and leaves and large, thick bushes. Each step unveiled another exotic plant, a new color or new shape. Light wrestled down through the tops of the trees, showering the undergrowth with warmth.

Jake moved ahead of them with his gun held high.

'There's no such thing as an ex-marine, Alva', his voice whispered in her mind. She didn't understand it when he told her, not really, but seeing this skittish, haunted version of him forced her to see the truth. Every shadow became an enemy to which he flinched and raised his gun, every call an enemy rallying for their cause.

Behind him Grace moved with ease, and despite his hyper-alert state, Alva couldn't quite resist pressing the tips of her fingers into the soft flesh of his waist, easily dancing away from the barrel of the gun as he pivoted around to face her. Stuck between her friend and the Marine, Jake managed a half-smile, though his eyes were miles lighter.

They moved through the landscape, past flowing vein pods, and reclined flaska reclinata. Norm yelped in shock when he got slapped on the thigh by a twisted lily he had wandered too close to.

Suddenly Jake spun on his feet and pointed his gun high. It was a group of cooing aysyaksyuk – monkey-like creatures with four large eyes, and six nimble limbs. A bright clash of blue and yellow made them a striking specimen, and Alva cooed back at the leader who had stopped to stare at the soldier.

"Prolemuris. They're not aggressive." Grace pushed his gun down. "Relax, Marine. You're making me nervous."

"They were cute," Alva said. Glowing tendrils reached out for her, and she almost reached back when Grace moved up front and they started moving again. Frowning at the abandoned plant, she vowed to come back and shower it with her attention.

"What do you need guns for anyways?" She continued once she caught up with the group. "It's not like they'll do anything to 'em."

Grace's face twisted in displeasure. "For protection. Orders from big brother himself."

Alva hummed. "The only enemies out here are once we've made ourselves. Though, if Jakey behaves himself that shouldn't be a problem."

"You'll have to ask him. He's determined to make everything living and non-living an enemy, and at this rate he's succeeding."

"The bill comes due." Alva said. "Eywa will protect the balance."

Jake was now pushed to the back of the group and looked far better off for it, but when they wander upon a broken down wooden hut Grace jogs ahead. The beginnings of a playground stood abandoned in the little man-made meadow, large wooden poles and old wheels covered in vines and grass. The thatch roof had several large holes in it, but the humble gazebo held up.

"So, how will they know we're here?" Norm dared to ask.

"I'm sure they're watching us right now." Grace said.

Alva skipped up to Grace, laying a light hand on the older woman's shoulder with a comforting smile. Then she tore up ahead, nimble feet rushing up the stairs and into the school. Though built long ago, the floor and tables were sturdy.

"This was our school." Grace told Jake and Norm when they joined them. "Now it's just... storage."

Grace dropped off some of the equipment on her belt by the yellow containers. Old samples poured into green vials and bottles further marked the far-fall from a school the building had become. Alva gingerly stepped around discarded ABC bricks and molded books and papers covered in childish scrawls.

"The kids were so bright." She picked up a book and placed it on the shelf with the others. "They picked up English faster than I could teach it. We'll take a couple of these PH monitors and a soil probe."

Jake explored the room with little care for the life and memories trampled under his foot.

"It's in that little yellow case back there. The old microscope." Grace continued instructing Norm.

A flutter of pages made him squat and grab a fallen DR.Seuss 'The Lorax' book from the floor. "Here." He gave it to Grace.

"Oh yeah. I love this one. The stingbats knocked them down." She chuckled.

Alva left them to join Jake in the back room, among the hanging telephones displaying the Solar system, posters with both human and Na'vi anatomy and a blackboard with numbers and shapes written by a firm hand; Grace most likely.

Jake moved to push the telephone when Alva pushed his hand down, finger pressed against her lip, shushing him, and with another pointing to the roosting ayriti.

"They're harmless." She whispered to him. "Trust me, I have a pack of 'em eating out of my hand back at Hell's Gate."

"They allow pets?" Jake asked.

"'Course not."

Grace's voice was barely discernible through the thin walls as she whispered. "I guess I always hope somebody will come back and read them."

"Why don't they come back?" Norm asked.

Jake and Alva's exploring brought them back into the main room with Grace and Norm, an identical blackboard (though bigger) covered a big portion of the wall there. Bullet holes covered the end of it, old splotches of dark crimson almost blending in with the brown.

"The Omaticaya learned as much about us as they needed to." She responded.

Jake's fingers skimmed the surface of the torn wood. "What happened here?" He pressed, but through the look he shared with Alva, she knew that he already knew the answer.

Clouded eyes turned sharp as a razor. "Are you going to help us with this gear? We've got a lot to do." Grace turned around to start piling things into his backpack and attaching things to her belt. "Come on, Marine, we haven't got all day."

They left the school in somber silence after that. Grace kept her distance from the rest, but Alva was shaking with joy at being out from the base so she cared not and kept dancing over plants and crawling under fallen trees. It was indeed her happy humming of old childhood nursery rhymes that kept the group from falling into complete silence.

Where they walked now was far more vast than the dense forest they landed in, though no less busy with plantlife. Small, thin trees grew at the base of grander ones, but even they were far taller than any of them.

"Keep moving, Norm." Jake said to Norm as he fell behind.

"Keep up!" Grace scolded from far ahead.

"Aye, Aye, Captain." Alva cheered from the middle.

Five or ten minutes of brisk walking later they arrived at Grace's latest science hotspot; a series of roots covered in a thick layer of dirt and moss. They connected together in a way that reminded Alva of octopuses – spindly limbs snaking from a big head. Norm and Grace sat down by the root while Jake kept watch over their surroundings.

"See, right here where roots of the two trees interact," Grace guided Norm.

Bored by their science talks, Alva climbed up a nearby tree, long agile limbs easily pulling her up the thick branches with feline-like grace. She cheered, for there was no better feeling than the rush she got while climbing – adrenaline rushing through her body and her head clear of both clouds and mud. Climbing the tall buildings of Hell's Gate paled in comparison to this (like conquering a small hill compared to a mountain), the rough bark against her palms, the sweetest melody of wildlife, and the sun warming her cheeks being her version of paradise.

To a song only she could hear she danced across the branches, leapt to nearby trees, pirouetted and pivoted, twisted, turned, jumped and fell. Each step a show of devotion. She cared not that the softness of her feet scratched against the coarse bark, only that she followed the little critters to wherever they were leading her to.

Suddenly as she was offering a syaksyuk the handful of berries and nuts she had gathered, Jake walked by. Alva followed him, jogging over to the next tree where she dropped into a crouch. When he was close enough she wrapped her tail around the branch and dropped down to face him.

"Where are you going?" She asked.

"Jesus Christ, Alva!" Jake exclaimed, startled by the upside-down Avatar. "I'm checking over here for threats."

"Can I join you? They're talking science and I don't know that language."

Jake grinned. "Us air-heads gotta stay together, huh?"

"Uhuh." She hummed in agreement.

"Come on then," he gestured for her to come down, to which she unraveled her tail from the branch and fell, landing perfectly on her feet. "You gotta stay close to me, though."

"Got it. So what are we doing?"

"Still securing the perimeter from threats."

Impossibly large eyes grew larger. "Are we exploring?"

"No. We're securing the perimeter so Grace and Norm can get their samples without being eaten by a dino."

"I think we should explore," she grabbed his hand. "Let's go over here!"

Alva led him around the corner of a thick tree and into the orange covered glade she spied earlier. Ayloreyu of different sizes and varying shades of orange lined with pink stripes covered the entirety of the area. Alva thought they were named well, for beautiful spirals they were indeed.

"Helicoradians," she whispered to him. "Check this out."

She released his hand, wiping it on her skirt. Alva strode into the clusters of zooplantae, eager to show Jake why she loved them so. Looking over her shoulder, she let her fingers trail the upper spiral of one, grinning when it coiled and retracted into the ground with a loud thump. Jake gasped.

"C'mon, have some fun, Jake," she urged him, "Grace is all the way over there. She'll never know."

Alva twirled around the field, outstretched hands making several of the plants disappear. Jake cast a glance at Grace and Norm but joined her, cautiously reaching out to one of the loreyu. When it retracted he laughed and eagerly reached for another, and another, and another.

Until the last of the loreyu all coiled in unison, revealing an agitated angtsìk. Low slung head with massive bone protrusions on each side of the head, the angtsìk gave the impression of a hammerhead shark, but the large armored platings covering its body reminded her more of a rhino. It trumpeted at Jake, who stood frozen.

Alva gasped and ran to one of the trees, climbing so far up that it wouldn't be able to reach her even if it stood on its hindlegs. She coiled her tail around the branch she was perched upon so that she could lean forward.

Lost on the tip of her tongue was her hollering at him to join her, for the yell was far too likely to set the angtsìk into charging and trample Jake before he managed to pull his uncoordinated mess of limbs up the tree.

No, Jake the Marine had to stand alone and no amount of enemies in Venezuela could prepare him for this foe.

When baleful eyes met his he raised the gun high. Jake stood tall but his face betrayed his fear. The hammerhead lunged forward, smashing its three meter wide head into the trees around it.

"Don't shoot! Don't shoot!" Grace screamed into the mic. "You'll only piss him off!"

Alva looked down to see her and Norm hiding behind the trunk of a fallen tree, out of the angtsìk's sight.

"It's already pissed off." Jake didn't lower his gun, voice shaking.

"Jake, that armor's too thick. Trust me."

Another bellow and Jake pulled back, aiming his gun at the sky instead. The angtsìk moved closer, grunting and bashing its head into its surroundings, pulling trees clean out of the ground without much effort. It pawed at the ground.

"It's a territorial threat display." Grace said. "Do not run or he'll charge."

"So, what do I do, dance with it?" He asked in disbelief.

"Just... hold your ground."

Time seemed to slow as the angtsìk lowered its head and charged. The ground shook with each step, but none of it mattered as Jake ran towards the animal, screaming at the top of his lungs with his arms spread wide.

Just before he was swept up by the great animal, it stopped. It bleated weakly and seemed to fold in on itself – brightly colored crest pressed tight against the back of its neck. It bleated again and started backing away from Jake, who was laughing.

"Oh, yeah? Who's bad? That's right!" He yelled at the retreating angtsìk. "Yeah, that's what I'm talking about, bitch."

Moving darkness behind Jake pulled her attention away from the confrontation. It moved up from behind the roots and into the opening there. It stalked forward revealing bright orange eyes, ten flared quills sprouting from armored plates and a thick armored tail.

"Palulukan," she breathed, fingers worried into the collar of her shirt, eyes wide and jaw slack with awe.

The angtsìk turned around and ran back to its pack.

"Yeah? Yeah, you got nothing. You keep running! Get your punk ass back to mommy! That's right motherf-"

The fleshy flaps of its mouth peeled back to reveal over nine inches of razor sharp teeth. It snarled and Jake turned around just as the palulukan leapt over him, the rest of his words dying on his tongue. The ground shook as over three tons of pure muscle landed between him and the ayangtsìk.

The ayangtsìk formed a circle around their weak, roaring at the predator. The palulukan stood on the second set of legs, roaring in rage as its prey got away. It turned to Jake instead. Dark black skin pulled taut over defined, lithe muscle, it was as strikingly beautiful as it was horrifying.

Alva dropped down to the branch under her present one, tail straining to hold up her weight as she leaned forward to see.

"So, what about this one? Run? Don't run? What?" He raised his gun to the palulukan.

She dropped down on the ground with a barely heard thud. There would be a hunt, this she knew. There was a reason the Na'vi feared this ferocious beast, each part of it evolved to be the perfect apex predator.

"Run! Run! Definitely run!" Grace screamed at him.

Jake didn't hesitate as he bolted into the forest with the palulukan nipping at his heels. Both of them disappeared into the thicket of the forest, the sound of roars, snarls and snapping of powerful jaws loud several minutes after they left.

It was then that Alva revealed herself to the rest of the company. She barely looked at them as she walked past, following the path of the destruction left behind.

"Nature calls," she told them before she too disappeared. 

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