#orginal story

[spookyteeth]

more oc posts... getting back into my little oc world called star bound again.. real ones remember that.. sigh i need to draw gerard way again

im watching you @papamoldy

[tentaclemilkprincess]

Can I request Eldritch horror purring while making love to their partner?

First time in the woods with your. purring eldritch horror bf

(Art by Diana Franco)

((( 18+)))

You were used to nonchalant guys—boys who your friends promised had crushes on you, only for them to not even look your way.

Even when you fantasised, mind clouded by hot, passionate visions—being taken doggy style by your professor or pressed into a wall by some mysterious man on the street—there always lay a veil of disinterest It was as if they didn’t care to see your face, hear your moans, or listen to what your pretty lips gasped open, jaw slack, eyes rolling to the depths of your mind.

But not with him, not with it.

Its oversized figure towered over you like an ancient god—body all bones, wet flesh clinging to the beast’s core, and eyes that bore beyond your soul. For all its size, it was surprisingly… gentle. When its fingers traced down from your waist to your inner thighs, there was a strange feeling of misplaced reverence, like you were the idol it had chosen to bow before. Even each individual tendril (growing from the roots of its mind and covering its face as if it must be done, like an act of love and protection) carefully stroked you through your soaked panties, with each touch feeling like worship. You could almost taste its impatience—its scorching need and endless desire—and feel the thrum beneath its storm-colored skin.

“What a masochist,” you thought, before relenting and whispering encouragement to the unknowable entity you loved.

It gently flapped its wings in excitement, disturbing the natural fauna around you—you’d forgotten your surroundings (a clearing in the woods), unable to know and uncaring if it was due to your preoccupied mind or some side effect of venom your boyfriend secreted.

It tried to be quiet, to be human and contained, because isn’t that what it means to be human? To wear a tie that chokes you for the sake of normality. But it couldn't help it. As it forced its big, pulsing member into your wet, warm depths for the first time, how could you expect it to stay silent?

You felt it before you heard it—even though the beast was trying to be slow, to not take you too hard. Yet it changed your internal landscape with the never-ending feeling of its long, thick cock filling you, making it impossible to holdhold onto any semblance of reality. A low vibration rattled against you, rippling across your skin and deep into your core. Laying on your back, the vibrations pulsed against your taut, red nipples-blushing with need and desire -and against your dripping pussy.

It felt like love, each thrust carrying the weight of its symphony of devotion. Every deep, intense motion filled you more completely, tearing away every barrier between you and it until only raw need remained, stripped of all pretense.

You felt like a god, like a creature like an untamed animal. Here, now being fucked hard and rough against the earth to the softening sound of your boyfriends gentle purring - it felt like love.

[lilacxquartz]

your body is my temple (and i will worship you);

incubus male oc x human fem!reader

w.c: 2.1k

summary: you and midnight take it to the next level and satisfy a mutual curiosity.

themes: smut, demon x human, porn with plot, size difference, one shot, reader insert, oc/ original character, biting, first person pov

~~~

Slowly but surely, it has been getting easier with having Midnight around. I became used to his presence over time, no matter how unsettling he seemed to be.

As it turned out, demons weren’t too different from humans after all.

At least not by that much.

For the most part, he tried to approach me in a way that he thought to be human in nature. That was my interpretation at least. He tried minimise my fear by getting to know me personally, taking interest in what I like as a means to find a common ground so that we could both get along.

This was going well. Or as well as it possibly could have been given the circumstances because who truly expects an incubus to show up in their life, just like that? Still, just for him alone, I fitted my apartment with blackout curtains so that he could move around comfortably as he pleased.

Slowly, I became used to his presence and before long, we were finally comfortable with one another.

Which led Midnight to want more than what we already had.

(Considering that he was an incubus, I was mostly just surprised that he didn’t bring it up sooner.)

Just as I finished up on my dinner, he followed me back to the bedroom with a certain sort of glint in his eye.

Personally, I wanted to get some more reading done but I could already tell that Midnight had more than just relaxation in mind.

“How interesting,” he observed as his pointed fingers trailed along my flesh, “I don’t have to kiss you for you to stop feeling afraid anymore.”

I nodded, thinking that he had a point. Usually, I would shudder at his touch because Midnight, regardless of how gentle he acted, was still a demon��a monster—there was nothing calming about him at all.

With a featherlight touch, he brushed his fingers down to my chin, pointing my jaw up at him, murmuring on and off in a slur, “You are so… intoxicating… when you’re not afraid.”

Midnight then leaned over me, making my back land flat against my mattress. His body hovered over mine as he dipped his face down with breath like ashen fire, smoking against my skin; daring me to reciprocate.

“I can’t resist, at least not forever,” he admitted, pressing his body right up against mine. The shadows that enveloped his body in void-like fire didn’t do much to his excitement as I could feel it, pushing up right against me with want and even need.

Sinking somehow even further into the mattress, I retracted myself with a cautious tone behind my words, “But, you’re not a forceful incubus …are you?”

Midnight froze in his pursuit, retracting ever so slightly as he lifted his lips off of mine. His blank eyes screwing shut as though he pushed any dark thought back into the murky depths of his mind.

(The part that he didn’t dare let surface, for your own sake.)

“I’m not,” he soothed.

I exhaled a deep breath and tried to get up from bed, but he still kept me locked in; caging my frame with his arms as his palms sank into the mattress.

“But it’s just… certain things,” he began, his voice almost growling as he spoke, “from the way that you breathe to the way your skin goosebumps when it brushes against mine, I’m starting to understand fate a little better, is all,” he paused before continuing, “don’t you feel at least… a little bit similar?”

Admittedly, I did feel something. I just wasn’t sure what. I harboured some sort of curiosity given that he was an incubus and at times, my mind explored such a possibility. To experience something more intense, perhaps even dangerous; the very thing that his kind was known for.

As my mind internally conflicted with itself, he tried to comfort me even if he didn’t let me go, “It’s not your fault, I know. It’s not even personal; humans were designed to fear the unknown.”

“It’s just…” I trailed off as I truly began to consider it. I wasn’t against it, that wasn’t the issue. It was the logistical side of things that threw me off; his height and therefore his potential size was an issue.

He tilted his head off to the side, giving me a moment to think.

“It’s just,” I continued from where I left off, “wouldn’t it hurt if we were to…?”

Midnight eased into a slowly relaxing smile, the glimpse of sharp teeth playing into his expression. Slowly, his body relaxed as he began to understand exactly why I felt so on the fence about things, “I’d work you into it, of course, but also, incubi and even succubi have evolved with human anatomy in mind. It can hurt, but it won’t kill you.”

My eyes flickered off to the ceiling, avoiding his gaze. Despite him lacking irises, I somehow always knew when he was making eye contact with me.

“Let me help you ease into it,” he offered, sweeping his hands around my body; his touch so rough yet so gentle at the same time as worshipping my very own skin.

His hands then moved down as he worked me into it, my eyes widening as his protruding claws grazed against my inner thigh. Black pointed nails spearing from his greyed fingertips.

Pausing, Midnight retracted his hand and balled it into a fist to reel in the claws and assume the length of normal fingernails.

“…My mistake,” he murmured, almost seeming embarrassed.

“W-weird…” I whispered in response, my voice dripping with fascination.

He didn’t reply however, choosing to push the with the task in mind instead. Peeling my sweat shorts down, he dipped his index finger into my sex before retracting it ever so slightly.

“I’ll work you into it,” he promised as he continued to stare at me, as though searching for a certain type of reaction, “I won’t hurt you… too much.”

My thighs squeezed involuntarily as he slid his digit back and forth while his thumb rubbed circles over my clit, lulling me into a gradually relaxed state. It took a couple of minutes at best, but soon enough I was flushed, my cheeks burning with anticipation as he leaned in over me.

Pulling his hand away from me, he moved ever so slightly back to rest both hands against my hips before brushing down to meet parallel with my knees. Curiously, he tented up my legs with a steady grip, hovering his body over mine, positioning the tip of his cock right against my entrance.

Noticing my unease, Midnight continued to take things slowly with as much reassurance as possible, “Relax with me.”

I tried to nod, feeling him ease slowly into my core, wincing as he gradually filled me out completely. I writhed just a little bit underneath his slowly flattening body, his length completely enveloped by my walls in all directions as he finally moved in as far deep as he could possibly go.

Midnight released a low guttural moan in a satisfied tone, seeming pleased as he took a hot minute to fully appreciate the sensation.

“Feeling okay?” he asked as he checked in.

“K-kinda,” I replied in a slightly strained tone.

With a tight nod, he pushed himself back ever so slightly to take the pressure off of you just a little bit, “We’ll go as slow as we need to, then.”

“O-okay,” I murmured in response, feeling him slowly retract his hips and then steadily push back inside.

His movements felt almost calculated as he rolled his hips against mine. With each thrust, no matter how gentle; my breath fluttered upon his impact, my eyes close to watering from the building intensity.

My whines turned into cries as I adjusted to his size, my legs widening as I struggled to take him in. My back arching as a means to accommodate him. As a means of seeking comfort, my fingers desperately clawed at the sheets, grabbing heaped bunches of linen as my toes curled on queue.

It was gradual, but he picked up the pace over time as it became easier for him to both move inside of me as well as my body finally starting to relax, somehow. In a way, I was actually extremely turned on and my heat, so slick and glistening wet, gave away just how I truly felt. My body softened at his touch, allowing him to adopt a quicker pace.

I gasped again as he positioned himself closer over me, continuing to keep me confined within his arms. His arms relaxed over the bed, keeping himself comfortably propped up against his elbows while his head dipped over mine, his lips so desperate to connect with my own.

Instinctively, I wrapped my arms around his neck in an attempt to pull him closer, seeking comfort within his touch which he then leaned into, taking up the pace a notch in response; so feverishly keen.

Midnight grunted as he now pounded into me, rutting his hips at an almost feral pace as I whined in slight protest. To counter my complaints, he finally kissed me to ease the discomfort, spilling whatever magic he held onto inside, slowly tranquilising—numbing the soreness, soothing the unrelenting pain inflicted by his touch.

“Still doing good?” he whispered into my lips, despite not slowing down at all.

“I-I’m good,” I confirmed, just barely hearing him over the heavy breathing and the sound of slapping skin, “I’m good, I’m good…”

Midnight smiled as he revealed his razor sharp teeth that reflected in the spilling moonlight, planting his lips right against my own as his tongue couldn’t help but invade and explore, taking the lead within my mouth as I just barely wrestled it back. Getting too ahead of himself, he couldn’t help but pluck a taste either, sinking his teeth into my lips.

However, upon feeling my body protest to such a sudden and sharp pain, he reeled himself back ever so slightly, offering only a half apologetic whisper, “Sorry ‘bout that.”

His breathing grew gradually heavier as he struggled to retain his composure; his body shaking as I struggled to maintain a secure hold around him. His hips almost trembled—quaked rather as his pace became rougher, his groans morphed into growls as he truly lost himself in my body. I could feel as he subtly accelerated and as his teeth grazed on occasion over my shoulder, grazing against such soft tissue in comparison to his hardened skin. He wasn’t truly apologetic, but he did mutter out hasty apologies whenever I squirmed in heated protest.

I held on either way, feeling as his claws spilled from his fingertips—piercing the bed in a lapse of dwindling control. His body almost vibrated as he purred in deep satisfaction, continuing to slam his monstrous length into my cunt.

“Almost,” he promised as he fucked himself into me, “almost, almost—!”

With a steady push that followed after his words, I could feel as his cock throbbed and twitched inside of me, releasing a surge of warmth within my walls in an almost demanding release. I gasped as he slammed himself inside a final time, painfully emptying himself into me with such pressure and overflowing passion that it couldn’t help but spill onto the bedding as he slowly pulled himself out of my spent body.

I shook ever so slightly as my legs quivered, feeling as Midnight soothed me with another kiss before completely rolling off of me, “To numb the pain.”

I nodded as I did my best to recover, panting as I did so, recollecting my breath while my body glistened with sweat. It took a while, but slowly my body relaxed a second time; my legs squeezing shut once more as my hips wound down.

“Don’t worry about the mess,” Midnight said, “I’ll be your bed for tonight.”

I didn’t protest too much, if at all as I felt him pull my body over his own. He was surprisingly comfortable and perfectly warm; the shadows that wisped from his body tickled against my skin in a gentle warmth, providing a soothing effect to lessen the remaining tension that I still held onto.

Feeling my eyelids droop shut, I couldn’t stay awake for a second longer anymore and drifted off to what seemed to be a much needed sleep.

All the while thinking that perhaps that giving into Midnight was the light I needed, because maybe, just maybe, fate wasn’t wrong in bonding me with him after all.

~~~

more original works • and if fanfics are your thing 🖤

[anomal-studios]

ITS: Book cover

Summary: 16 year old Elíseo Sanchez struggles to get by after a tragic loss shook his entire world at the age of 11.

One night, he awakens in a manson of ice, greeted by a creature who claims to have been friends with his late father, a toy maker.

Everything goes great until Eliseo stumbles a dark secret about this so called “friend”.

[dreamyvill]

On purpose

Synopsis~Things happen for a reason, of our own will or because of the will of others

Minors beware of your own media consumption

Previous part next part

During collage when he played football and I was a cheerleader we had our first kiss together, which obviously turned into somthing more and more and more. We couldn’t really put our fingers on what we were whenever I’d want to label it he’d start treating me like a regular friend as if we didn’t know what each other tasted like, the sweet spots everywhere you’d have one.

Everything was rocky but smooth but it all came to ahead when Joe really went after his dream of declaring for the draft, we lived together and sometimes I wouldn’t see him for days at a time and he saw no issue always brushing me off as “needing me to be understanding” which started fights because after a while their was no understanding when we didn’t even talk. What was there to understand? Trying to talk about the distance only made things worse, arguments started to get more hostile and loud before he just plain out called me jealous because I didn’t have a purpose in life.

It hurt beyond anything I had experienced before, maybe it was just young love as my momma called it but even now as a grown woman thinking about it makes my eyes well up with tears. After that we broke up as soon as our lease was up and we both moved on we’d never had intertwined circles of friends so it was easy, I focused on school for a major I didn’t want to go into I fell into a deep depression all lone.

I would rot in my apartment or throw myself into working in a wear house that paid that bills, not really having a purpose I’d just float on about my life graduating becoming a kindergarten school teacher before I realized that wasn’t a life. How empty I was is plain embarrassing to admit for a twenty five year old before I finally found it.

I had a way with words and a mouth that could go faster than a gazelle running away from a lion so I became a lawyer specializing in the high profile financial stuff kinda like suits but real and with less malpractice. Going about my fabulous day reading over the news like I do for any morning before a knock sounded on my office doors.

My boss Mrs. Angel Greene strutting in with her red bottoms clacking with her.

“Good morning, I have something I personally want you to handle. Be you!” She said flashing a natural smile before leaving. Picking up the folder I saw a name at the headed contact section and my head started to spin.

Joe

-

This is just somthing I might start writing if you guys like it enough. Thank you for reading comments, likes and really any love is appreciated.

[thepenultimateword]

Love Thy Enemy Part 6

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

For all Callista's talk of winning Vorrin over, it was surprising that she returned to ignoring his existence. Pins and Switch even informed him that his designated visit to her chambers had been canceled for the week. Usually, Vorrin would've been thrilled, but considering the circumstances... How was he supposed to gain the empress's trust if they didn't see each other?

"Is she busy again?" Vorrin asked as he took a bite of strawberry scone. He kept his tone bland and stared with what he hoped looked like disinterest at the wall.

"I hear she's taking a trip to the border cities," Pins mumbled, sewing needle held between his lips as he turned the half-finished embroidery in his hands. "Probably takes a lot of prep work."

Vorrin had felt rather guilty about his outburst the other day, and remembering Switch's comment about waste, he'd asked the manservants if it was possible to repair the torn shirt. The short answer was no. Nothing could get the shirt exactly back to its original state. The longer answer, with more cloth and designs to hide the stitches, the outfit could be salvaged. So here the pair were, with more work thrust upon them, though Vorrin couldn't say he wasn't grateful for the company.

Vorrin set down the scone, turning full attention to the manservant. "The border cities? Why?"

"I only caught pieces from the soldiers while fetching your dinner the other night, but I think an emissary from Avarose is meeting her there."

"An emissary?"

"She has been out of the country for almost a year now. Maybe she needs an update from Prince Suthand on the state of the kingdom?"

"An update can be sent in a letter."

"You know more about politics than us," Switch said, stacking up some of the empty breakfast plates. "Why do you think she's going?"

Vorrin pondered it a moment. Callista was calculated, and she knew her hold on Totholan was tentative. She wouldn't leave the capital unless she thought it was absolutely necessary.

Perhaps she wanted to check on the strength of the border troops. But she could outsource that to a general couldn't she?" And then there was the emissary. That would be political. But why would she need a representative from her own kingdom? And why didn't they meet her here instead of the other way around?

"I don't understand anything she does," Vorrin said finally, picking back up his scone. He only managed to nibble it a little further before asking, "When will she return?"

Switch raised a brow. "You're certainly eager to see the empress again."

"I wouldn't say eager. Simply...interested."

"Well, she hasn't left yet," Pins said. "She might still come to say goodbye."

As if Vorrin was worried about not receiving a proper farewell. He was her consort, not her lover. He forced a smile anyway. "Maybe."

Pins smiled brightly back and turned the finished tunic around for him to see. "How's this?"

A spattering of golden stars and a large sun now hid the repaired tear. They glimmered against the white fabric like the celestial bodies they were imitating.

"It’s beautiful,” Vorrin said, “it’s a wonder you were hired as a manservant rather than a tailor’s apprentice.”

Pins flushed appreciatively and lowered his eyes to the ground. “I used to do the repairs to the servants' uniforms, back before I was officially hired. My mum said I had a gift. But…apprenticeships don’t pay in money, just room and board, and my family couldn’t really live on one income so…” His face fell a bit, but as he lifted his head again, it abruptly brightened. “When I was offered this position, it paid twice the amount as a regular manservant, and I still get to do sewing, so better off for me, I say.”

Vorrin fought the frown dragging down the corners of his mouth. He knew what it was like to come from humble beginnings. Living day to day on whatever scraps he could get. Going hungry. Survival topping every other thought or desire. The main reason he'd joined the King's army as a boy was for the pay. Squires received a gold piece every month, and the stipend only grew the longer he stayed alive. Not to mention the free board in the barracks. As he’d risen in the ranks, he’d created a comfortable place for himself. Luckily, or maybe unluckily, he hadn't had any family to rely on him, so he’d only had to worry about himself. He could only imagine the pressure of supporting a family at such a young age.

“Is your mother in Totholan?”

“No, she stayed back home. But I send her half my earnings whenever any of the soldiers travel back to Avarose with the Empress's letters.”

“Which they skim,” Switch muttered.

“It’s fine,” Pins said, forcing one of his bright smiles, “I just think of it as a delivery fee.”

This time Vorrin did frown. “That is not fine. They recieve their own wages, they don’t need any of yours.” He doubted it was something Empress Callista would allow either. “I’ll speak to the Empress about it.”

Switch audibly choked.

Pins shot to his feet. “Oh, no! You don’t have to— It’s much too small a matter to bring so high as the Empress.”

Yes, Vorrin understood it was unconventional. King Duras would have imprisoned a servant for wasting his time with such a request, that is if he even allowed it to reach the level of audience, and with the state of the kingdom, Empress Callista probably would brush it off too, but…

“If she cares about me, she’ll care about you,” Vorrin said firmly.

“I don’t want her to think I’m complaining or gossiping about the soldiers. Especially not to you."

"Because you don't want to be blamed for my poisonous attitude toward all things Avarosian?"

Pins pressed his lips together, his lack of denial an admittance all its own.

“If it bothers you, I won’t tell her it’s you.”

"I...well..." Pins slowly folded the tunic over his arm and moved gingerly across the room to tuck it away in the wardrobe. "I guess its ok. If it comes up that is. And as long as it doesn't inconvenience her. If she seems put out, tell her to forget it. And don't make it seem too urgent." He cleared his throat and plucked out a new outfit, lithely changing the topic. "How about this?"

It was another set of robes, this one a couple layers, the bottom a silky vibrant gold and the top a poofed, gauzy white that muted the underlying fabric, almost like looking through fogged glass. Glimmering gold strings hung loosed off the sleeves, ready to hold each one in perfectly puffed sections."

Vorrin grimaced. Where did the empress even get all these clothes from? Had she sent for them as soon as she’d taken him hostage or had she planned for this ending in advance? From what he'd seen Pins and Switch wear, robes were not uncommon for Avarosian men, but the fancy ones in his wardrobe were on another level. Either high-class styles were different, or the empress had some tastes. Maybe a bit of both.

"Well, I was hoping to attend the training grounds today," Vorrin said. "That is if there is a soldier to escort me today."

One of the things he and the empress had agreed upon in their last conversation was that Vorrin should have more freedoms. The training grounds to practice his sparring and more visits into the city were at the top of his requests. Surprisingly, both had been granted, on the condition that he was watched at all times.

"Oh!" Pins put the garment set back and sifted around the wardrobe for something else. "Then this?"

The new outfit was two pieces, a bottom and a top, so that was at least closer to Vorrin's regular style.

The top was a black compressed shirt with the sleeves cut off mid-shoulder and silver-threaded embroidery stretching from the shirt's high throat to the middle of the chest, giving the appearance of a layered necklace. The bottoms...were a skirt. Blue. Long. Plain except for the embroidered hem in matching silver.

"Er...I can't exercise in that," Vorrin said. It was the more diplomatic reply.

"This is a sparring outfit," Pins said. "An expensive one, but still equipped for actual sparring."

"I don't see how I'm supposed to fight in that." Vorrin stepped closer and flicked the hem of the skirt. "It's too long. And constricting. I'm not going to be able to move without tripping, ripping it, or showing everyone everything."

"It's not a skirt if that's what you're worried about," Switch said, setting the stacked dishes on the breakfast tray. The young man was as sharp as ever. He marched up the proffered outfit and grabbed the hem by one side, pulling it up to show the wide trouser legs beneath. "The overskirt is for show. It's split so it doesn't get in the way. Think of it as robes for fighting. Most of the military has switched to more obvious trousers, but most generals still wear this style. I don't know if you've noticed."

Vorrin couldn't say that he had. He didn't really pay attention to what his opponents were wearing in battle, and since becoming Empress Callista's consort, he'd been mostly confined. He assumed he'd seen mostly low-level soldiers since then, but it was also possible he'd missed it, either being in too much of an angry fog to notice or assuming they were robes like any other.

"The outfit's fine," Vorrin said crisply.

"Good!" Pins said. "Then let's get you ready!"

"I'll send for a soldier to escort you," Switch said. A shadow of a grimace crossed his face, but just as quickly it was gone. Replaced by his usual straight expression. "It might take a little while, so I should go now."

"We can go together," Pins offered.

"No, no." Switch drew himself up proudly. "I'm fully capable of finding someone. And it will be more efficient this way."

With a short bow toward Vorrin, he was out the door.

Pins had Vorrin dressed within a half hour. The bottoms were much more comfortable than he'd expected. His hair had taken on a simple style today, tied up into a tail. However, Pins still managed to make the simplicity elegant by using a silver hair ring instead of a regular hair tie.

The bedroom door burst open. Switch stormed in red-faced and hair-mussed, slender hands barely catching the door before its handle could hit the wall.

"I found someone," he said, easing the door shut before sitting hard in one of the dining sets.

"What happened?" Vorrin and Pins said together.

"Nothing. Like I said. It just takes a while to find soldiers who aren't busy."

"Switch, you're shaking," Vorrin said, his voice falling into the firm tone of his old station.

Switch looked down at his trembling hands with a surprised expression.

Switch clenched them. "I'm not scared or anything. I'm just mad."

"What happened?" Vorrin pressed again, this time summoning the authority Switch responded to.

"It's just soldiers being soldiers," the manservant spat. "Being crass and difficult and idiotic as usual. I swear, this is why I dropped out of the military. They're all so stupid. But of course, they can't let it go. I'm a traitor because I didn't fight in the war and even more so because I serve a Totholi consort." Switch's tone grew sharp and sarcastic. "Apparently, it's very unpatriotic of me to be at the beck and call of a Totholi general. Oh, and I think I'm better than them because of my cushy safe job and better pay and face-to-face meetings with the Empress."

At that last part, Switch let out a little gasp and pinned his lips tightly shut.

Another time, Vorrin would have seized that slip-up. He knew that Empress Callista was getting information on his behavior from someone. His manservants had been the most likely suspects, and this confirmed it. However, this was not the time.

"I didn't know you were military," Vorrin said instead.

"Was." Switch looked steadily at the ground a couple feet ahead, clenching his fists harder so the knuckles turned white. Vorrin knew that look. He kept dry anger at the forefront of his emotions, but he was probably fighting off tears. "I only squired for a year. I hate soldiers."

"Is that why you sometimes have a hard time with me?"

Switch flushed a little and a long pause stretched over the room. "Maybe. I don't know. I guess sometimes I see the resemblance. But you're not like them. I know that. Even if you are aggravating." He cleared his throat abruptly. "Sorry."

"Did the oh-so-proper and strict Switch make a joke?" Vorrin said with a mock gasp.

Switch rolled his eyes, but a small smile crept up his face. "Don't tell anyone."

"They're just being jerks because they're jealous," Pins piped in.

Vorrin nodded. "As a once stupid soldier, I have to agree. For men like them, there is a pecking order, and they're worried you're on top. And they hate that, so they're trying to convince you that you're not."

"But I don't want to be a part of their stupid pecking order at all," Switch said.

“Then you need to find the biggest instigator and give them a good punch in the nose.”

“You are a soldier.”

Vorrin shrugged. “It’ll at least show them you’re not going to take their rubbish.”

“But it’s so unrefined…”

“And they are? They’re a bunch of insecure bottom feeders with too much space in their skulls. I’m telling you, the only thing people like that respect is brute force.”

“I’m really beginning to doubt your strategic ability as Totholan’s best general.”

Vorrin chuckled. “Well, I can always punch one for you. I doubt they’re allowed to hit me back.”

Switch let out a long sigh, though it wasn’t entirely exasperated. He scrubbed his tearless face. "I’ll think about it. Pretty sure letting the royal consort get into fights isn’t a much better look. Anyway, the escort is waiting outside when you're ready."

Vorrin stood, stretching his arms over his head. “Time for me to go then. Guess I better show this little guppy who’s really in charge. ”

“Don’t.”

“Don’t worry, Switch. I know how to handle grunts.”

“Seriously don’t.”

Vorrin only grinned, flexing one of his bare arms before sweeping out the door.

As he stepped out into the hall, the soldier leaning against the outside wall stood up straight. He was about what Vorrin had expected: young, a little below average height, and built just enough to have real muscle but still feel uncomfortable in his own skin. Vorrin could see the inexperience in his shifting posture.

“Good morning, Royal Consort,” the soldier said offering a short bow. Obviously, his feelings on a Totholi consort were much different when face-to-face with him. “My name is Raoden. I’ll be escorting you.”

“Yeah, I’m not remembering that,” Vorrin said, stepping past the man without a second glance and starting toward the training ground. “How about I call you Button?”

“Well, er…”

“Perfect. Come on."

The soldier scrambled after him, needing to use his full stride to keep pace at Vorrin's side. As they reached the end of the hall, he angled toward the right, the direction to the main entrance of the arena.

Vorrin turned left.

"Um, I think the training grounds are--"

"I know how to get there," Vorrin said.

He strode the full length of the hall, turning left and then left again. He barely glanced at the other soldiers and servants they passed along the way, only stopping when he reached a worn, narrow door the same grey as the stone around it.

"Royal Consort--"

Vorrin was already pushing inside.

"Hello, boys!"

The whole room scrambled to their feet. A couple of men fell off their beds. One hit his head on the bunk above him as he rushed to stand.

“So this is where you all go to slack off.”

One of the soldiers without his shirt or shoes squirmed. “We’re off duty, your…Royal Consort…sir.”

“Of course. Don't mind me.” He mosied down the aisle, looking idly around with each step, gaze skimming past the soldiers enough that they dropped their heads to avoid eye contact. “I just wanted a look at my old quarters before Button here escorts me to the armory. Well, close enough. These were the squire quarters. You're all full-fledged soldiers, aren't you?"

"Er...most of us," Button interceded from behind. When Vorrin glanced back at him, the man stood by the entrance, looking desperate to lead Vorrin back out. "Military rankings work differently in Avarose. Um...should we perhaps..."

"Really? That's interesting." Vorrin sat himself down on one of the now-empty bunks. He crossed his ankle over his knee and leaned back on one hand. "How is it done in Avarose?"

Button looked around the room, but no one else spoke up. "Royal Consort Vorrin, I really think..."

Vorrin raised his brows. "Yes?"

"Uh...well, in Totholan there are three titled ranks, right? Page, squire, and knight? Though of course some knights can reach the higher rank of Knight General or the highest rank, like yourself, Grand Master."

Vorrin shook his head. "King Duras was the Grand Master. I'm just a general."

Button blinked and glanced toward his comrades and back. "Respectfully, sir...that wasn't what we were told in our briefing. That's why the Empress specifically--" He abruptly cut off and cleared his throat. "My point was Totholi military is more simplistic."

One of the soldiers snickered but stopped before Vorrin could identify who it was.

"Whereas Avarosian military is sort of...complicated."

Vorrin leaned his chin into his hand. "Oh?"

"There are ranks within ranks. Sort of like your knights, but with much more variety." He lifted one end of the wide scarlet sash wrapped around his middle. Looking at the colors may help. The lowest rank is yellow. Children in training wear the palest shade and it deepens as they move up. Green is the next rank, usually utilized as messengers or apprentices to higher-ranked soldiers. Blue is reserved for military medics. Red is for ordained soldiers, again the palest shades are always reserved for those with the least experience. Generals wear black. The sovereign wears white. But only on the battlefield.

Vorrin closed his eyes a moment, tentatively summoning a memory. He could still picture that day perfectly. Empress Callista standing over him, half of her hair escaped from its braid, the long tails of her "white" sash whipping in the wind. In reality, it had only been white in small patches; the majority of it was dyed red with blood. The point of her blade pressed carefully into his throat. He'd swallowed. She'd grinned.

Vorrin's eyes shot back open. He pushed himself back to his feet, shoving the memory's emotions deep down and instead surveying the soldiers once again.

"It seems every one of you carries a red sash. I'm surprised."

"Sir?"

"It took thirty minutes for my manservant to acquire one of you. You do realize that a request from my servants is a request from me?"

Button bowed his head. "Yes, Royal Consort."

"Tell me, how long did you spend arguing, drawing straws, and over me instead of doing your duty."

Button sank so far between his shoulders he resembled a turtle. "Too long, Royal Consort."

A part of Vorrin wanted to punish them further for Switch's sake. But Button had admitted his fault without excuse. Vorrin had to give the man credit for that. Many of the men looked equally chastened. No need to press further when a reprimand was being received.

"I suggest being a little quicker next time," he finished.

"Yes, Royal--"

"You're not in charge of us, Tolothi," another soldier interrupted. The man was all wiry muscle and unruly hair. Vorrin noted that his sash was vermillion whereas many of the other's were crimson.

Vorrin stalked up to the man, gazing down at him from under half-lowered lids. "Am I not?"

"You're a pet."

"Argin," one of the crimson soldiers hissed warningly.

"A dog may be pampered and protected," Argin continued, meeting Vorrin's eyes. " but that doesn't make it less a dog. And a dog holds no authority no matter who it belongs to."

Vorrin only smiled. "You sleep in a bunk bed. I sleep beside the Empress. Maybe I am a dog, but between the two of us, I wonder who has more authority. I suppose if you're really concerned I could ask the Empress what she thinks."

Argin paled a fraction and clenched his teeth hard enough to crack. He ducked away from Vorrin's gaze. "Aren't you supposed to be practicing sparring or something?"

"You're right. Thank you, Kitty."

The man flushed equal parts embarrassment and anger.

"Come along, Raoden."

Button looked a little shocked at the usage of his real name, but he quickly fell in step, following Vorrin through the door at the back of the room into another room of bunks, this one empty. The Knights' old quarters. They passed rows and rows of beds before exiting another door into the armory.

Unlike the barracks, this room had been completely reorganized. Probably so it could hold all the weapons that the Avarosian army had brought with them.

Vorrin ran his hand down the row of spears lined along the wall. "Any limits on which weapons I'm allowed to use?"

"I don't think Empress Callista established a rule." Button looked around the room nervously. "Maybe nothing too sharp?"

Vorrin tsked. "Do you have so little faith in yourself that I need a handicap?"

"When it comes to you, sir, yes."

"Really? You don't think you could stop me if I was armed? A little concerned for the person who is supposed to keep me from escaping.

Button swallowed. "I don't know, sir. But I know it took the Empress to defeat you, and I couldn't win against the Empress." He gathered himself taller. "However, Royal Consort, I don't think you plan on running. Even if I fell, there are at least a hundred guards between here and the end of the palace grounds. They would catch you immediately."

Button's tone begged Vorrin not to try anything. He almost seemed to be trying to convince himself as much as Vorrin. He was right though. Vorrin suspected that having a watch was more about preventing him from stealing weapons than stopping an escape attempt.

"I'll stick with the quarterstaff then," Vorrin said, plucking the long wooden pole off the wall. "I only want to practice some movements today anyway."

Button nodded, relieved, and they exited the armory into the training grounds. A light breeze wafted the smell of the dusty earth, and the musty hay of the training dummies to his nose. Vorrin closed his eyes, breathing in the familiar scents. It had been a long time.

The quarterstaff felt a little strange in his hands. Though his hands instinctively gripped the right places, the weapon no longer fit the same against his too-smooth palms.

Vorrin spun the staff a couple times before trying a stab. He stumbled a little and gritted his teeth. He'd overextended.

His immediate reaction was a surge of rage, but he exhaled the emotion slowly. This is fine. Just go back to the basics.

He fell into a defensive stance. Block, parry, stab. Block, parry, stab. He moved slowly, perfecting each movement as he went. After about four times, he picked up speed, throwing in a few dodging movements and thrusting out the pole in low and high attacks.

Button yawned from the sidelines.

Vorrin half-wanted to ask the guard to spar with him, but he doubted that was allowed. Maybe he should asked for two guards next time, one to spar with and another to watch him. Better yet, maybe he could begin bargaining for the release of his soldiers. Not at all at once, but one or two at a time. He missed their familiar company. Not to mention, he’d need them if this uprising was going to work.

Having enough of the repetitive movements, Vorrin imagined an invisible enemy before him. He’d done this all the time as a boy when the other pages refused to be his sparring partner. Having Captain Kenric for a mentor had remedied that, but he’d still found solace in solo sparring once in a while.

He lowered into a defensive stance, holding the quarterstaff diagonal from his body. He circled slowly, searching for weak spots, knowing his enemy was doing the same. Abruptly, he thrust the staff forward. The enemy dodged, swinging back at him violently. He barely stepped back in time, throwing the staff sideways to block the blow. He gritted his teeth and widened his stance further against the imaginary weight. He shoved forward hard, knocking the figment backward. He stalked forward, raising his elbows in preparation for the finishing jab. He thrust the weapon forward, and...

A very visible, very real sword collided with the end of his staff.

Vorrin inhaled sharply, retreating back a couple steps and instinctively throwing out his quarterstaff in front of him. It took a couple moments for him to make sense of the red-and-gold-clad figure in front of him.

Empress Callista glanced at the weapon then casually back to his face with a widening grin. She slid her sword back into its sheath. “Hello, dear."

Vorrin exhaled slowly, doing his best to hide the tension ebbing from his muscles. He'd felt like a hair-trigger ready to fire. "What are you doing here?"

"What, I can't visit my consort? you weren't in your quarters; I was told I could find you here." Her eyes roved back to the weapon. "It's been a while since I've seen you in action. Serious as ever I see."

Vorrin furrowed his brow. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Some people spar for fun, you know. But you have that same look you have in battle. Fighting isn't a game to you, is it?"

Where did she get off acting like she knew anything about him?

"I spar for fun," he said a little sharper than intended. "But there's nothing fun about swinging a stick around by yourself. Besides, if I'm going to regain all my skills, I can't afford to be lax."

Empress Callista let out a little amused breath. "Well then, we'll need to spar together sometime."

Vorrin's face warmed. "I wasn't implying that I wanted--"

"I like the outfit," she interrupted. "Very classic."

“Well, it was in my wardrobe.”

Empress Callista gasped in mock offense. “Are you suggesting that I gave you those clothes just because I wanted to see them on you?”

“Is that not true?”

“Well, maybe.” She winked, her smile landing somewhere firmly between flirtatious and wicked. However, the sly curve quickly straightened into a more serious expression. “I didn’t know what you looked like until the first time we faced each other in battle. I had no idea what would suit you, so we brought lots.”

“You didn’t think we had clothes here?” Vorrin said.

“Dressing you in our styles was intentional."

"And now?"

"It still is. But your comfort is also important, so we'll find a compromise."

Vorrin let the butt of the quarterstaff rest against the ground. He leaned into it like a walking stick. "Dressing me like an Avarosian isn't going to win over the people. They're just going to be mad that I'm betraying our culture."

"Maybe. But it does show them who you belong to." Her gaze darkened. "And it's not just for your people. Mine need reminders too."

Vorrin's insides went cold. Empress Callista was so confident, so domineering in every action and word, he'd never considered that her people might have as many disagreements with this plan as he did. He was safe...wasn't he?"

"Anyway, darling," she said, shattering the frozen feeling encasing him, "as much as I love our little tiffs, I came to wish you farewell. I'm heading to the border this afternoon."

Vorrin remembered what Pins had said about the Empress saying goodbye. He sincerely hoped that neither manservant had shared his interest in her departure. "You don't need to do that. My servants would have told me."

"Ah. Of course." She cleared her throat and gathered herself up a little straighter. "It's a two-week trip--5 days to the border and another 5 back. I would have felt strange saying nothing at all."

Vorrin didn't quite know how to respond, so he stayed silent.

The empress cleared her throat again. Wait a minute. Did she actually feel awkward right now?

“Is there anything you need before I go?” she said

"I need your soldiers to stop terrorizing my manservants."

The empress's forehead furrowed. Not confusion, or doubt. More...disciplinary. The look of a parent when they're told their child has been caught teaching curse words.

"Explain."

"Pins gets his wages partially stolen whenever he sends money back home to his mother. And Switch gets harassed when he makes requests on my behalf. It has to do with serving a Totholi, which, I would like to remind them, is literally his job."

Empress Callista raised her brows. "Switch and Pins?"

"That's what I call them."

She didn't push it further.

Vorrin continued on. "They're in positions of power and servants to the Empire. They're abusing those positions for personal gain. If it were my men they'd be cleaning everyone's armor for the next week. Or be working directly with me until they wised up."

Vorrin caught movement out of the corner of his eye. Perhaps his voice had risen too loud because Button shifted uncomfortably from his post at the arena's edge. His eyes flicked their way, briefly connecting with Vorrin's. The young man's shoulders leaped a little, and he hastily averted his gaze to the empty space ahead of him.

The young man had been properly chastened earlier, but Vorrin wanted him to bring this information back to the others.

"They can't be allowed to act this way, can they?" he said, letting his anger raise his voice even louder.

"No," the empress said firmly. "Their behavior is unacceptable. Unfortunately, I don't have control of every action the people in my employ make. However, I will be alerting my generals and captains of the issue. They should provide some correction. Let me know if it continues."

Vorrin nodded. Despite the many things that bothered him about the empress, the one thing he could count on was that she was fair. King Duras had allowed, even encouraged, a toxic dynamic in his army. One where power and physical strength reigned as dictators. It had taken a long while for Vorrin to clean up once he became Knight General, so he couldn't help but appreciate the empress's standards.

She tipped her head to catch his gaze. "I assure you, Vorrin. The trust I have in my army is critical to me. I allow error, and I allow redemption, but those I deem untrustworthy have no place with me.

"I know. Thank you." The words came out before Vorrin knew what he was saying. To his surprise, he actually meant them.

"Anyway," he said, diverting the attention from his last words. "Why are you going to the border?"

Empress Callista smiled thinly. "There's confidential information I don't want to be written in a letter. At least not one that passes many hands. Not only that, but I'm going to be surveying the area for construction."

"Construction?"

"For the new capital. With the kingdoms merging, I can't stay here. Avarose would be outraged. But I can't return as if nothing happened either, or I risk losing my foothold. We need a neutralized city equally distant between both locations."

"Idosa won't be the capital anymore?" Vorrin didn't know why he hadn't thought about that sooner. Technically, Idosa had ceased being the capital the moment Empress Callista won the war. Yet, everything remained so much the same, the castle, the stationing of the guard, the mannerisms of the city... He'd never imagined this type of reform.

"Don't act so sullen. This will be a massive change for all of us. Streles has been the Avarosian capital for centuries. I'm anticipating a heated argument with every noble and advisor I have over the next few months."

"And me?"

It wasn't a very articulate question, but the empress seemed to understand.

"You'll come with me, of course. Not only to the new capital but to Avarose as well. The new city will take time to build, so we may travel back and forth for some time."

"I could stay here." That was something consorts did, right? Have their own homes? At least, King Duras had gifted his mistresses residences within and without the city. Then again, many of them were not official consorts. Still, it wasn't as if Callista needed him outside Idosa. If she gave him this place, he could fix it. It wouldn't be exactly as it was, but it could be close.

Even as he tried to convince himself of nobler intentions, the truth gnawed at him. He was scared. Outside of battle and expeditions for the King, he'd never lived anywhere else. He'd grown up here. He'd become something here.

Empress Callista shook her head, a little sympathy peeking through her steady expression. "You're my token. A representation of our countries' union. You'll always be with me."

Always?

Vorrin's lungs suddenly felt tight. Like he'd been shoved into a space--a cage--too tight for his body.

The empress's hands found his face, stroking his cheekbones with her thumbs. "It's alright, love. I will take care of you."

As if that was what worried him. Like he was a child who needed consoling about moving away from his friends. As if this was just about him and not everyone in Idosa--no Tothalan! And him a helpless bird with clipped wings.

No. No, don't think about that.

He released a shuddering breath.

He could stop this. None of this had to happen if he completed his mission. Calm. Calm. He just had to endure a while.

Vorrin stepped back out of her reach and looked down at her gold-button travel boots.

"Good luck, on your journey."

Empress Callista's hands dropped to her side, but she stepped forward, regaining the ground between them. "If you need anything, if you have any trouble, send for me. I'll return."

"Ah, so you expect trouble," Vorrin joked, not quite able to summon the humor into his smile.

She gently took his chin, raising his face to her eyes before withdrawing again. Her eyes appeared almost molten in the sunlight.

"I will be back before you know it."

Vorrin wasn't sure if that was meant as a comfort or a warning, maybe both. It made him feel strange.

He took two long steps back this time, properly distancing himself.

"Well, goodbye then. Bring me back something nice." With that, he turned his back on her, striding back to Button. "I'd like to go back to my room now."

Vorrin allowed the soldier to lead him through the proper exit this time. As they left, he felt the empress's eyes following him.

He did not look back.

Taglist:

@whatiswhump, @aprilraine, @ilovescarletwitch, @conniedensazation, @feedthebirds, @bloodinkandashes

[pretty-purple-pages]

𝓲𝓽'𝓼 𝔂𝓸𝓾 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓶𝓮, 𝓽𝓱𝓪𝓽'𝓼 𝓶𝔂 𝔀𝓱𝓸𝓵𝓮 𝔀𝓸𝓻𝓵𝓭

synopsis: grayson davenport hawthorne is sick. luckily his beloved girlfriend is there to help him.

pairing: grayson x reader (implied f!)

content (genre and warnings): reader's gender is not specified but 'girlfriend' is used once, fluff 100% fluff, banter, sickfic, grayson folds for reader, just grayson getting the love he deserves

word count: 0.5 k

"Gray?", you called out sleepily, half awake, but fully aware of the warm, shirtless body beside you. Grayson's hand was firmly wrapped around your waist, pulling your back even closer to his chest, if that was possible.

"You feel hot", you continued, propping on your elbows to look at his face properly. His normally perfect hair was dishevelled, but he still managed to look perfect. The kind of perfection which gave you butterflies.

"I know you find me hot, darling, but it isn't a reason to break our peaceful slumber in the middle of the night, is it?", Grayson answered, half annoyed, half amused, his voice even deeper than usual. He opened his eyes to look at you properly, running his hand through his hair.

"Not like that!", you gasped, as your cheeks burned red. "I'm saying, I think you have a fever."

"What?", your boyfriend asked with pure confusion painted all over his face. He looked absolutely adorable; it was an extremely rare sight.

"A Hawthorne doesn't get sick", he scoffed, as if you had told a dad joke. He was now fully awake and fully annoyed.

"Being a Hawthorne doesn't mean you're immune to diseases", you countered, exasperated, which was justified due to his utterly ridiculous statement. "Unless your sadistic psychopathic grandpa altered your genes to make you immune. Wouldn't be surprising, actually."

Grayson threw you a look and you rolled your eyes. You put your palm flat on his forehead and flinched back.

"You're burning!", you said, concerned, lines etching on your forehead. You stood up and rummaged through the bed-side table, and retrieved a thermometer with a victorious smile.

"Here", you tossed it to him. "Take your temperature, I'll be right back with some medicine."

You quickly ran and brought the paracetamol with a glass of water. He protested, but swallowed it once you glared at him. Yes, the all feared Grayson Hawthorne folded at your one glance.

"Now rest up", you ordered, getting into bed beside him, sitting up against the headboard. He took your hand and patted his head. You sighed, moving his head onto your lap, running your fingers through his hair, just how he liked it.

"Who would think that Grayson Davenport Hawthorne cannot sleep without his girlfriend playing with his hair", you giggled and he blushed from embarrassment. Oh, how you wanted to snap a picture right there and then, and then trade it with Jameson or Xander for some "Hawthorne gossip".

"Oh shut it", he mumbled as he snuggled closer to you, drifting asleep.

©reyna-obsessed | Not to be reposted, translated or copied on any platform

tags: @reminiscentreader @shuhuaspookie @loife1m @that-multi-fandom-hijabi @moondust-on-the-hijabi

[intistone]

dropping my gay idiots who commit crimes here for a bit

[sunflower-trails]

Sometimes i think about the books I wanna/am writing, and worry im not putting enough diversity in them. This is in multiple forms; race, body type, disabilities, etc, etc. Then I remember that I have a lot of them down, but don't think about it often. I mean, i think the disability thing is the main issue for me (which is funny bc I am disabled myself lol.)

But, like,

Alton Company: Main character (Fox) is an athletically-built straight young woman of an unknown mixed race

The Call of Divinity: Main character (Divine) is a underweight, aroace, autistic, white teen boy.

FairyTale: Main character (Maisy) is a chubby black girl, who is undecided in her sexuality bc she literally 8yo.

Mind you! This doesn't account at all for bg or side characters!! I really just need to work on my disability rep (I think, lol)!!

[faces-of-gh0stmutt]

“When you’re strange, no one remembers your name.”

Some art of my Oc for the movie The Lost Boys(1987). Her name is Melody or just “Ladybird”. She is nicknamed after the nursery rhyme “Ladybird, Ladybird fly away home.”

I tried to keep my crunchy style while mixing in the paper elements. I enjoy it a lot, it gives off that punk vibe the movie is so fantastic with.

Not to mention I played her in a TTRPG once just rebranded as a changeling.

(Also feel free and please ask stuff about her. I love talking bout my little guys.)

[flamingophobia]

Gnaw on me lover. Kiss the gash on my neck and call it romance. Feed on my organs and call it lust. I am your animal. Bring me to slaughter. It will only make me love you more.

[introvertllux]

Chrono Heart (Future Trunks X Black!OC)

*I DO NOT OWN/CLAIM TO OWN ANYTHING IN RELATION TO DBZ. I ONLY CLAIM THE ORIGINAL STORY IDEA AND BLACK!OC IN THIS STORY!*

Chapter 1: The Relic and the Reawakening

The remnants of Dr. Gero’s lab were a graveyard of twisted metal and shattered dreams, a monument to the hubris of a man who played god with circuits and steel. Hidden beneath this forsaken ruin, a capsule hissed open, and from its depths, a figure emerged—Axa. With skin like polished ebony, eyes that shimmered with the golden light of a thousand captured stars, and hair that cascaded down in an untamed torrent, she was a sight to behold—beauty crafted by ambition, innocence shaped by design.

:readmore:

She stood, hesitantly, in the dim light of her metallic tomb, a stark contrast to the vividness of her form. Her limbs moved with an elegance that was almost haunting, yet her expression held the innocence of a child looking out upon the world for the first time.

Unbidden, Axa's body propelled her through the labyrinth of the city, every calculation in her head leading her to an encounter she did not understand. It was as if an invisible hand guided her to a serene park, where the familiar silhouette of Android 18 stood, lost in the simplicity of feeding ducks at the pond—a moment of peace in a life so often marked by conflict.

Axa’s presence cast a shadow over the tranquility, and 18 turned, her eyes widening in shock and recognition. "Axa? Is it really you?" she gasped, the breadcrumbs slipping from her fingers.

Their reunion was explosive—a symphony of fists and flashes of shared history. As they sparred, 18, amidst parries and takedowns, called out to the essence of the girl she once knew.

"Remember when we sparred with 16 in the orchard, the cherry blossoms falling around us like snow?" she grunted, dodging a swift punch. "Or the time we snuck into the city, 17 dared us to ride the rollercoaster and you laughed until you cried?"

Each word struck Axa deeper than any physical blow could, unlocking the sealed doors of her memory. "And that night, the four of us lay in the grass, making shapes out of stars, dreaming of freedom," 18 continued, her voice laced with nostalgia, even as she blocked a kick. "But then you were gone. Gero said you were defective, but you were just... you were just Axa. You were just a little girl, and I... we, I should have done something."

Tears spilled from Axa's eyes, liquid diamonds trailing down her face, an alien sensation that stopped her cold. Her hands came up to her face, fingers trembling as she touched the moisture with wonder. "What... what is this?" she whispered, her voice breaking.

"It's crying, Axa," 18 replied with a bittersweet chuckle, the fight draining from her. "It happens when you're sad... or happy... or even when you laugh so hard, you can't stop. It means you're alive."

Axa's golden gaze, now dulled by confusion and sorrow, met 18's. "I don't... I don't understand," she said, a lost child wrapped in the shell of a machine.

"I know," 18 said, stepping forward to wrap an arm around her. "I forgot to search for you when I found my own life. But now I’m here, and I'll help you. Let me show you the life I've built. You’ll fit right in. Krillin, my husband, Marron, our daughter—they'll love you."

The promise of a family warmed something inside Axa, a spark of belonging that she didn't know she needed.

_____________________________________________________________

The scene shifted to the familial home, where the spark was met with a torrent of fear and misunderstanding.

The home that once held warmth and laughter was now a battlefield of words and emotions. The cozy living room, with its family photos and children's drawings, became the arena. Krillin's face was flushed with a mix of protective fear and incandescent rage. "18, how in the world could you think this was okay? Bringing her into our home without even a word to me?" His voice shook the very foundations of their sanctuary, a volume reserved for life-and-death battles, not familial disputes.

"You're not getting it, Krillin!" 18 shot back, her own voice a force to be reckoned with. "You think I can't see danger? I know danger. I've been danger. But she—" 18 jabbed a finger towards Axa, "—is just lost. We owe her this!"

Marron, with the blissful ignorance of childhood, had wandered over to Axa, offering a small stuffed dinosaur with a smile. "Do you wanna play with Mr. Dino?" she had asked, her voice a sing-song note in the dissonant symphony of the adults' conflict.

Krillin's eyes darted from Marron to Axa, and with a speed that betrayed his martial prowess, he scooped Marron into his arms. "Marron, sweetie, why don't you go play in your room, okay?" His words were gentle with his daughter, but when his gaze swung back to Axa, they were steel blades. "Stay away from her," he snapped at Axa. "We don't know you, what you're capable of—what if you're programmed to…to…"

His words trailed off, but the accusation hung heavily in the air, an invisible smog choking the room. Axa, who stood like a statue wrought from onyx, felt each word strike her. Her hands, which moments ago had explored the texture of the child's toy, now hung limply at her sides. The shine in her golden eyes dulled, a gloss of pain over the brightness.

"Krillin," 18's voice cracked like a whip, her anger transforming into something fierce and protective. "Listen to yourself! She’s not a threat! How can you judge her like this?"

The silence that followed was suffocating. Axa's soft, disbelieving sobs were the only sound, a heartbreaking melody that seemed to wrap around the room. She blinked rapidly, her human-like innocence clashing with her android perfection as she attempted to process the whirlwind of rejection and anger.

"I… I don't want to be a problem," Axa stammered out, her voice a mere whisper but slicing through the tension. "I didn't mean to cause trouble. I'm sorry."

Krillin, his face softening for a moment at Axa's words, struggled with the turmoil inside him. His duty to protect his family warring with the empathy he had learned from his wife. "18, I…," he started, but the words tangled, a mess of emotion and duty.

"No," 18 interrupted, her eyes glistening with unshed tears of frustration. "No, Krillin. She's not just some android. She's Axa. Remember that. She's not the past; she’s someone who needs us now."

In the quiet that followed, the trio stood, the balance of their world shifted, as they each considered the weight of what it meant to be family, to be human, or something akin to it. Axa, still caught in the eye of the storm, dared to hope for a harbor in this tempest—a place where she could anchor her heart.

The turmoil in the room reached a crescendo, a tidal wave of emotion that crashed over Axa with overwhelming force. As Krillin and Android 18's argument continued, Axa's mind began to fracture under the strain. She clutched at her temples, her golden eyes flickering erratically as memories—long suppressed—surged to the surface.

She was small again, diminutive and human, watching through the bars of a crib as giants in white coats and stern faces argued loudly above her. The cacophony of their voices was terrifying, a discordant symphony that crescendoed into an unbearable din. Words like "potential" and "failure" were thrown back and forth, volleying over her head like some high-stakes game she could not comprehend.

Her breath hitched, a robotic mimicry of a panic attack, and her body began to seize up. Her limbs locked in place, and the glow in her eyes sputtered like a dying star. "System… overload…" she managed to gasp out before collapsing like a puppet with its strings cut, her form going limp and unresponsive on the floor.

"18, we need to do something!" Krillin's voice was now tinged with fear for Axa, the protective instinct he felt for all living beings—especially those under his roof—kicking in.

18 knelt beside Axa, her fingers hovering over the android's inert body. Her heart, though not flesh and blood, ached with a mix of fear and protectiveness. "Dammit," she cursed softly, her usual composure fraying at the edges.

Krillin ran a hand through his hair, his eyes darting from his wife to the still figure on the floor. "Maybe… we should take her to see Bulma. She's dealt with… this kind of thing before."

Android 18's eyes narrowed at the suggestion. "Bulma has a good heart, but she's got that scientist's curiosity. She'll want to dissect every part of Axa's programming," she said, her voice a growl of resistance. "And Vegeta…" she trailed off, a scowl creasing her features at the thought of the Saiyan prince's unpredictable nature.

Krillin nodded slowly, understanding his wife's concerns. "We don't have to tell everyone, just Bulma. She'll know what to do," he insisted, his tone imploring. "Vegeta won't lay a finger on her—I'll deal with him if I have to."

The two locked eyes, a silent conversation passing between them. It was a gamble, but Axa needed help that they couldn't give. With a heavy heart, 18 agreed. "Fine. But we're not leaving her side. Not for a second."

Carefully, they gathered Axa's motionless form, her weight a testament to the gravity of their situation. Together, they stepped into the cool evening air, the weight of Axa's fate a heavy shroud upon their shoulders as they made their way to Capsule Corporation, and into the uncertain future that awaited them.

______________________________________________________________

More on Axa (Pronounced: Axe-e-ah or Ahh-x-ah)

*Apologies for inconsistent art styles. I utilized Art breeder. Unfortunately I don't see many resources to help create black!Ocs in consistent styles and diverse poses out there. If you know of any please let me know! As you continue reading the story imagine her in the DBZ art style. Thank you!*

____________________________________________________________

Taglist!

@thejadetrios @shytothemaxx @variousfandom @konekomews @physicallyherementallysomewhere @ikittybakugou345 @jasxnoamii @enderempresss16 @elliethewitch @carzychameleon @feitanii @hollownight @dragonloverdrawer @moonlight445sblog @yelan-butterpeatea @ringsofpersonti @weeb-boy261 @jkr820 @somehowexist @scrumptiouss007 @emajohn40 @justicetheghost @thirstyhoebutbetteryehsjsg @rasaberrygray @etherialblackrose @random-insomnia15 @deviousmunchkin @galaxys-stuff @bluehibiscusgarden @kunoichis-world @x-bakudeku-x @spectoralstrudel @i-wanna-fuck-monsters @interobanginyourmom @twdhtgawm @kkeidawrites

[ranathebatcat]

I'm obsessed with this couple in my head and you will suffer with me

The tale of Nebula and Eclipse;

A mug, dusty and grim, clinked onto a charred table

They sat in silence among the rubble and remains,

The sky line set ablaze,

This beginning starts at the dread

The tale of lovers, once enemies, alone together in the end

Fingers touched, the only thing left alive was their dying love

Hands squeezed tight, through their gloves

The sky was rose, the night torn away

Just endless, endless, burning day

They met in this warm tan walls,

The Angel stinged everything,

Burning away nightfall

And all within the castles walls

They struggled to their feet and began to move

The Sun Chaser would be here soon

[sarahwriterx]

【Ｄａｉｓｙ】

She is a plague Doctor, she wants to save everyone and being the protagonist in the story; but she can't. Daisy is selfish and not kind, takes whatever she wants in any ways, this makes her a antihero.

[theodditylacey]

oc list and requests ﹒୨𝑒 ﾟ ˖

keith steyes

Pinterest

17 yrs old, blonde, surfer, skater, plays acoustic guitar, loves beaded necklaces, and markets

charlie townsville

Pinterest

18 yrs old, brunette, wears wire-framed glasses, into classic lit and is obsessed with grandpa sweaters

joe solberg

Pinterest

16 years old, works in his family pizza shop, basic in an endearing way, golden retriever type of guy and loves nike sambas

simone visage

Pinterest

19 years old, smokes cigarettes, wears leather jackets, a city girl, insanely cool, into records, fiona apple fan and reads feminist theory

noel visage

Pinterest

16 years old, simone’s younger brother, awkward in a cute way, black hair, thick framed glasses, gangly and tall, super smart, science and math guy, and sweet

requests

you can request scenarios with these characters and i will write for them <3

example:

what it would be like dating charlie

simone helps you in a club bathroom

noel assists you with your homework

also please make sure to specify what type of relationship the oc has to the reader

you can also ask for interactions between characters as they are all in the same literary universe

currently taking no nsfw requests <3

more ocs coming soon!

tagging moots: @daystarpoet, @toooster, @soft-likethesunset, @sofiavaa, @cultclassic111,

@tuliplover222, @forestgromlin, @auntiejohn,

@glxsyymads, @wish-i-were-heather,

@thisfeelslike-iykyk, @rins-batcave, @hearts4ruby, @azzie-mazzie, @hxress23, @scelesticgalimatias

[ra1n-b0w]

Bunny-Hybrid with Owner! Reader // First Meeting Headcannons

I forgot to say this at the start of my posting, but I will be making full stories with these characters. I'm just introducing them and making profiles, so in the future, people can have a reference to look at. And to also help me store their info somewhere.

First meetings // gender neutral reader// hybrid original characters // small lore about the universe // living together

OC Profile

●You've been feeling rather stressed out at work, and you always come home to an empty house every day. It's a monotone routine every day. You brought this issue up with friends, and they told you that the best solution would be getting a companion, or in other words, a hybrid.

●You personally didn't like the idea. The idea of having a hybrid is an issue that has divided people for a long time. Some support it, and others see it as something that shouldn't happen at all. You were always on the fence about it, but maybe it would be best to get one.

●You go into the shelter and are met with a woman who then guides you into a room. It was a room where the two of you will discuss what type of companion you would like. Did you want a dog hybrid? Maybe a cat hybrid? How about a bunny hybrid? Maybe a hybrid that isn't popular with the masses?

●You decided to take the bunny hybrid. You always wanted a pet bunny, but you didn't know you would get it in another form.

●The woman excuses herself, and in a few moments, she's back with a man. He stands at average height with a lean figure. His sun-kissed skin complements his honey, blond hair, and brown chocolate eyes. He looked like any other human, but once your eyes looked up you’ll see his floppy bunny ears. He looked at you with wide eyes.

"Who is this?" The hybrid asks as his honey colored ears twitch in curiosity. He cupped his hands close to his chest and moved closer to the woman. He was clearly scared about what was going to happen.

"He wants to take you home, Mylo!" The woman exclaims, hoping to make the bunny feel better,"C'mon! Don't stand there, say hi."

"H-Hello..." Mylo shyly greets you as he takes a small step towards you.

●The first meeting wasn't the best, but you couldn't blame Mylo. You would be scared, too, if you were in his situation.

●Given that Mylo didn't decline your offer, it meant that you could take him home. You filled out the paperwork with the woman as Mylo curiously looked at all the papers he couldn't read. After all of that, you could finally take Mylo back home.

●The first few weeks were rather awkward since you were getting used to your new companion. Mylo was also getting used to it.

●Mylo would hide away from you and keep himself occupied within his room. He would only come out when you left for work or when you went to go run an errand. He didn't feel fully comfortable being near you.

●You didn't force Mylo to talk or to be with you. You held out hope that within due time, he would slowly get used to you. You couldn't blame him either for the way he felt. You've heard stories of hybrids being abused within their adopted homes. You just hoped that Mylo would find out that he was safe with you.

●It took about a month before you noticed a change. Mylo started to sit next to you on the couch and during dinner. He even started talking to you! It was a small step, but you felt so proud.

●When Mylo started to interact with you, he didn't notice how gentle you actually were. Your voice was filled with love and care. Your touch was soft and comforting. He couldn't believe that this was what he was missing out on for a month.

●During the second month, Mylo was the definition of a cuddly bunny. He pounced on you when you came back home, holding you in a tight hug. He showered you with compliments. He stuck by your side at all times. Mylo wanted to show you all the love that he withheld from you.

●Within due time, the two of you were inseparable. You started to take Mylo on trips so he could see the world, you shared your favorite things with him, and you even let him sleep in your bed at night. It was clear that the two of you loved each other very much.

●Mylo now had a place to permanently call home thanks to you taking him in, and now your house felt more like a home with the help of Mylo's presence. The two of you found home within each other.