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the-midnight-blooms · 10 months ago

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LOVE WILL TEAR US APART | jwy

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Trope: Lovers to Enemies

The white roses you gifted me, once laid at my feet. You begged I walk on them for every step I took on earth was a punishment against my holy beauty. They are now drowned within the red sea called hatred. I loved you once, your name plastered to me like skin on bone; your every touch thriving through my blood. Every fibre of my being pulsed to you, bowed to you, moved to the beating of your heart. They laughed at me, mocked me even, for being so infatuated with you- and I screamed and swore that you descended from above. That you were deserving of every part of me and now I am as much to you as meagre copper pennies to a rich man. A fool I was for falling for you, a fool I am for being in love with you.

The stars pulled over the surface of the night, blanketing over the scape of the city- the defined curvature of hanok roofs ascending towards the sky as if its goal was to pierce the clouds. The hood of her dark robe billowed in the wind, as she stealthily, she tiptoed across the skyline of houses and buildings of Seoul-rolling aimlessly through the night, haunting the city as she walked by. The night's breath hitched as she perched upon a rooftop, legs dangling over the precipice, staring into the soul of her target. Her fingers drummed against the sheath strapped to her waist, a bejewelled dagger obscured in plain sight. The mansion was large, golden-bricked walls stretching out at least a mile encasing an equally gigantic garden-the scent of freshly mawn grass lingering in the air. The lights in the home had penetrated from the small glass windows, the house itself silent. A few servants sauntered across the large hallways blowing out a few candles, a majority of the masters of the home absent. But the main man of the night, she needed was sprawled across his burgundy leather chair in his bedroom- a book resting on his laps but paying little attention to the literature.

“Do you still want to prove your loyalty to the clan?” Her father's words drifted out to her from the other end of the room. It was as if a steadfast cherry tree blew harshly into her face, at once attacked by the rushing of its petals hitting hardly against her, her soul magnetised by its beauty despite the coarseness of its intentions. As if she could reach her hands out to grab it anyway, so desperate to hold this delicate plant as it would break the thousand curses the universe bestowed upon her.

She would do just about anything to prove her loyalty again, it had already taken her father so long to forgive her for her sedition the first time around. Drawing out her dagger, her the tip of her finger danced along the rim of the knife- it had been so long since she had played the role of the Grim Reaper. Playing with one's life in her hands provoked a sense of glory within that had been dormant for so long. Her target's eyes drew out of the window, she was confident that she was well blended within the night, she challenged his suspecting stare; a smirk pulling at her lips when he shook as his head and turned away- as if to convince himself he was going mad.

But how madly in love had she once been for him? A man who she glorified. Held up on a pedestal. A man whom she loved like breathing. So innate and easy.

Jung Wooyoung. If only she could feel her heart beat to his name again. If only she did not want to kill him for every memory of him that infiltrated her head. The memory of his name falling from her lips coming back to her like the moon did every time the sun dipped beneath the horizon.

On a night where their stars aligned so perfectly, esteemed patrons meandered into the large Keun home. The ballroom was bustling with activity, filled with guests in every nook and cranny. Waiters flooded into the room with tall glasses of champagne and appetisers, the fancy dresses, a cacophony of sounds emptied into the heavy atmosphere.

The distant melody of sombre ballroom tunes echoed within her household as her father entertained corrupt politicians and business men. She had managed to excuse herself from the dinner party that the Keun family held once a year to flaunt their wealth that manifested from the massacre of innocent civilians and moral decay. Though she disagreed with her father’s despotism over the city, at the end of the day she was powerless and succumbed to being his personal mercenary and political tool. Retreating to her balcony, a breath of relief fulfilled her as the cool wind of the night waltzed upon on the surface of her skin. With eyes glazing across the scape of the village, she noticed a figure sat upon the rooftops gazing in her direction.

Wooyoung had been truanting the hanok roofs on that one night, fuelled by nothing but sheer boredom when he stumbled across the territory that he was prohibited against ever entering. Despite this, there was something about the air in Keun territory that tugged at him, perhaps it was the adrenaline junkie within him instilling a sense of euphoria when his life was in danger. It will kill you one day, his mother always nagged but he couldn’t care less. There was nothing or no one to live for. That was until her met her. An angel, as so to speak. Looking out into the city- face etched with a pondering look crossed with exhaustion. Her hair pulled back by a glimmering silver clip, loose strands of hair falling over her shoulders. There was something about her that sparked an interest, an interest transcending further than her beauty. Her stature was familiar to him, as if he had seen that same figure blending into the stars-slipping in and out of the same nightclubs and brothels where astute men who led the country revelled in. Where his father had told him to raise his blade against the men threatening the Jung aristocracy, this enigmatic shadow had gotten there first. He had tried his hardest to follow this mercenary and uncover their identity- but whoever they were, they were clearly sharper leaving no trail of footsteps behind for him to follow. One night, he saw a slight shape to their physique and it was smaller than a man's at that. He found himself staring at a potential suspect, but a resident of the Keun home-an assassin? In fact, she could very well be Mr Keun's daughter. Wooyoung had heard that both families had birthed the heirs to their thrones at the same time and she looked as old as him.

Their eyes met across the night. He waved and she waved back- waving to nothing more than a shadow in a void carved from the depths of her insanity. Or so she thought. For this madman was so allured by her, he needed to see in all her glory. As if he was too a beacon of a dying star, his body drifted towards her- scaling from rooftop to rooftop, then over the garden wall. Her hand drew towards her mouth, she wasn’t hallucinating at all. Who was this man?

Climbing up the walls, his hands finally gripped onto her balcony railing, stumbling backwards. A contented smile settled on his face, so mesmerised by her beauty. Words struggled to leave her lips, he chased as her a child did to a butterfly. She sunk in his appearance, following the curved structure of his nose, fox-like eyes that bored into her own. He was beautiful, there was no denying that.

"Who are you? What are you doing here?"

“I thought maybe I had died and reached heaven.” Dipping her head, she scoffed. He made his way half way across the village, just to flirt? What was he doing on the rooftops to begin with? Scouting for other assassins targeting her family? Or was he one of them? Cautiously, her hands slowly drew towards the knife strapped to her thigh. “Didn’t know Mr Keun gave birth to a beautiful daughter.”

“Goodness, are you one of my father’s men? Shouldn’t you be patrolling the streets not the rooftops?” She interrogated. There was nothing dangerous about the sky itself, everybody knew the roofs were too unstable and slippery to be walking on. However, this man seemed to defy gravity-the same way she did- when he moved along them. His unfamiliarity struck her hard, she knew her father’s men inside out, wearing the guise of an obedient daughter by day and assailant by night. He grimaced, folding his arms across his chest as he leaned against the balcony.

“Far from it my dear, I’m your biggest enemy.” With furrowed eyebrows she stared back at him. Biggest enemy? “I’m Jung Wooyoung.” He clarified. The name itself was a taboo in her own home.

"What are doing here?" the softness in her tone had been substituted with a coldness that gave him a slight discomfort. Still, his eyes wandered over to her silver clip that glinted in the night.

"I was looking for the Grim Reaper. I seemed to have found him, or her-rather."

"That's rather a rude thing to say a lady, no?" Perking her head up, Wooyoung smirked-the distance between them gradually closing.

"Depends on perspective."

"So, what's your perspective Jung?" She challenged. Her father's instructions hauled her. 'You are not, and I mean not, allowed to use your knife under any circumstances unless you are covered by a mask. No man should know you are my greatest weapon.'

"That there's a knife strapped to your right thigh." Sneakily his hand hovered above her sheath. His warm breath tickling her face. When did this he get close to her? Did she not hide it well? Her heart pounded as he moved closer to her ear. "Did you not think I'd notice, my precious?" Feeling the weight of his hand dawn upon her thigh, presumably to grab the knife; she grabbed for it before he could blink-pushing his body against the metal balcony. Knife fixed tightly against his throat.

"Why are you here, Jung?" Her words careful and instructive. She had disobeyed her father's orders but it was better than Jung having the upper hand.

"You can't kill me," he snickered. Her knife waltzed over his Adam's apple in a threatening manner. "Ok maybe you can. I really only ever wanted to know who was stealing my jobs. Didn't think it was a gorgeous woman." Of course it had to be that the first beautiful man she met had to be a Jung. The antagonists of her father's story. The Jung's and the Keun's had been old aged rivals for as long as time existed. Rivers of blood drowned the streets in the midst of their rage and envy. From birth both families brought up willing to bequeath god's greatest curse on each other. She had not even as so much seen a face of a Jung, but she recalled her grandma's folk memory of Jung men inhabiting such intoxicating beauty that made one want to abandon all their morals and venerate them under the emblem of desire. She understood it all now, and for years to come to she'd understand it a lot better than that moment they stood beneath the stars gazing into each other before she took back her rationality from the hands of ardour- and shooed him with the flick of her wrist.

“Leave before you get killed. If as so much as a word about me leaves your mouth, I won't hesitate to kill you." To tell the truth, Wooyoung was right to some extent. She couldn't kill him- if she did her family would be the first of people the Jung's would point to and chaos would ensue. The only problem that lied now was he knew who she really was.

"Until next time, my angel."

"There will be no next time." Rolling her eyes, her arms crossed over chest and huffed. As he climbed over her balcony iron grip on the railing as a descended down. Leaning over, she watched him as he climbed back up, cheekily placing a peck on her cheek.

"I prefer you with your hair down." His hand reached around her hair, pulling at the expensive silver clip. Hastily, he climbed down the building again, covertly jumping down; disappearing into the night.

Damn you, Jung.

Later that week, she sauntered down the cobbled roads- woven basket in hand filled with the seasonal fruits that her mother had sent her to collect from Monday’s market. The vendors being close family friends always provided the freshest fruit and a suitable price at that, despite the Keun’s family renown wealthy background. Nevertheless the farmer’s had the protection of the Keun clan, a vow that had never gone unbroken in the two decades since it had been established. A soft hum filled the air as a recognition of a melody she had acquainted her ears to drilled in her head. A figure walked synchronously with her- neck craning only for a scowl to be complacent on her face.

“What are you doing here, Wooyoung? If anyone catches you with me, you’ll be as good as dead.”

“So then I’ll see you tonight, same time, same place as before my precious.” Her steps had faltered, sending her family’s enemy a menacing glare.

“Listen, stay on your turf and we’ll stay on ours. Like it always has been. What do you want, Jung?" Wooyoung’s hand slipped into the inside of his jacket pocket. In his hands held her expensive silver hair clip she had spent the whole week mourning the loss of-a devilish smirk playing on his lips.

“Give it back!” She hissed, reaching out for it, but Wooyoung drew his arm back extending it further away from her.

“Now now, my angel. You can have it back tonight.” He softly whispered in her ear, placing a yet another devious sweet kiss below her ear lobe. The connecting of his lips against her skin was so soft, she could just melt into his touch, goodness it felt like a sin to be so allured by his charms. That night, Wooyoung came in again- perched on her balcony patiently awaiting for her to open the doors. He handed back her silver clip as promised. His hands drifted to her hair, tugging at the white ribbon that held it together, falling over her shoulders in loose waves. Sliding his fingers over her soft locks he tucked a strand behind her ear. The nerve of that man, where did he summon the courage from?

“I told you I liked your hair down.”

“I’m supposed to listen to your every wish now? Leave Wooyoung, and don't come back." She snapped, Wooyoung chuckled, as if unfazed by her indifference to his intimate actions.

“I will once I get my thank you kiss.” Rolling her eyes, she gently pushed the man. Walking past him to place her jewellery box in her wardrobe.

“Can I have my ribbon back?” she questioned, shutting the door to her wardrobe, but remaining in front of it as to keep some distance between them.

“I think I’ll keep it. Then that way I can come back to you every night.”

“So you’ll steal something every time you’re here?”

“Yes, as long as I can to see your pretty face over and over again.”

“Wooyoung.” Her tone firm, meeting with him was already too risky. Falling in love was practically begging for a death sentence.

“Please. Just a chance. One.” He begged, almost getting on his knees. Her mind wrought with conflict, the opposing forces gnawing at her brain. One side was utmost obedience to the Keun name and her father. The other was the desire to love and be loved. To know what it felt like to hold someone, for a life as an assailant deprived her of that. She just wanted to know what real love felt like, was that so sinful of her?

And she had felt it all in the following years her and Wooyoung spent under the cover of the night. Soon, past midnight when she was so sure that her family was asleep- she snuck out of her own home and ventured into the streets of their city into his restricted abode - exploring the large hallways of the desolate Jung estate. One night, a slow classical tune meandered into his room, his arm so carefully ensnared around her waist. Head on his chest, they swayed side to side the stars gleaming down at them blinking in their wake. It was then when he proposed the idea of marriage; her blood ran cold, dreading the day he would ask her.

“We can propose it as a form of alliance to our parents, a truce.” He suggested, prying. Insisting like he was asking for opium. For their love was like a drug he could not get enough of.

“So many years our family have been wrought in this conflict, centuries even. Do you even think they’ll agree?”

“Aren’t you tired of this age old rivalry? I am, I am so sick of it. I don’t want to be running this city, I just want to grow old with you.” Their heads leant together, she breathed in his scent, not knowing it was going to be the last time she was ever going to ever feel this emotion again.

Unbeknownst to them both, and despite their esteemed positions within their clans, the tension between the Keun’s and Jung’s seemed to have strained significantly within the past few months. Their targets stopped being fraudulent associates to important members of the opposing gang, to which both lovers felt limbs staggering when they picked up their weapons. A member of the Keun clan was murdered, thus a life was taken from the Jung clan. An eye for an eye, hand for hand, soul for soul. Bloodthirsty corporals of the Keun’s had once again inundated the streets, their insatiable appetite for violence sewing fear into the citizens of Seoul. Conditions were worsening and once the couple had realised, their meetings had significantly minimised- both heirs had become bound to their empty manors.

“Curse you, and your whole family.” A screech erupted through the walls of the Keun home, her attention snapping away from her cousin-Ki- who was sat in the parlour discussing the details of her engagement. The older woman had finally settled down, after years of defying against marriage, claiming to have her heart set on one man. In the end he never proposed to her. Pressure from Ki's family subdued to accept a proposal from a young, wealthy business owner.

Out of curiosity, she neared the window onlooking the vast garden to find a familiar figure on his knees. Blood dripping viciously from his face, his agonising grunts were muted by the thick walls. Her father’s soldiers continued to attack him-fist connecting with his face with such a brutal force. A breath hitched in her throat as soon as the soldier moved out of the way, the man’s face clear as day through the glass. She launched out of the room, sprinting out to her garden towards the scene. In a flash, before the man could raise his hands again- she flung her body at Wooyoung, encasing him in her arms.

“Miss Keun-,” the guard's voice was interrupted by her father’s voice screaming her name over the lawn, the abrasive dissonance jarring in her ears as she felt his presence eventually looming over her.

“Get away from him.” He instructed through gritted teeth. Stubbornly, she shook her head no as tears streamed down her cheeks, wiping her sleeve across her lover’s face blood staining her silk dress.

“What are you doing here, Wooyoung?” She choked out. A guttural cough escaped his throat, blood spluttering out like a broken engine, lungs screaming for air feeling the burn of a thousand hot knives piercing his skin. Resting his head against her collarbone, he wheezed out of exhaustion her palm gently rubbing up and down his back.

Her father jerked her away from him, the warmth of Wooyoung's body dissipating from her as her skin fulfilled with goosebumps. Stumbling towards her house, she looked back searching for Wooyoung who had collapsed to the ground in the absence of her hold.

“Bring him to my office.” Mr Keun roared. Two soldiers obliged, immediately lifting Wooyoung up to drag him into his enemy’s estate. The door to the office, flung open the heat, which would have once soothed her skin, burned her alive. Her cousin, hot on her heels, entered the study with them encasing her from her father's wrath. Nothing could stop the hatred Mr Keun held for his daughter, the same girl who he raised betrayed their age old conflict. This was not supposed to happen. None of it. Not their relationship being exposed like this. Not Wooyoung being beaten bloody at the hands of her father and certainly not what was going to happen next.

The wooden door blew open again, her lover being thrown into the room. A gasp escaped her lips, she treaded forward as if to reach out to his loving embrace again but the simultaneous tug from her cousin and Wooyoung’s hard stare repelled her away.

“First of all, I’d like to apologise Wooyoung. I know you didn’t kill Mr Seo." Good Lord Mr Seo is dead? Her father's right-hand man? Perhaps in light of her relationship with Wooyoung she had become completely blind to the politics. "My men will pay, and I will compensate for any damages.” Her father’s perception of the word 'compensate' was particularly vague and held varied meaning. Compensate by paying the hospital bill? Compensate by taking a life? Compensate by having Wooyoung choose a member of a Keun clan to beat to death?

“I’ll take no compensation now, Keun, but I will one day. You’re in my debt.” Wooyoung declared, holding his head high. Her father nodded in agreement, drawing away from his desk-stalking towards his daughter. Raising his hands, he struck a blow against her flesh; the sting vibrated under the bubbling of her blood. A yelp escaped from her, eyes meeting Wooyoung’s who had barely flinched at the sight. Mr Keun bunched up her hair, wrenching at it violently.

“Secondly, what affiliation do you have with my daughter?” A silence held within the room. The pain of her father’s abuse engraved on her skin, acuminating at her but she could not help but to think what Wooyoung was going to say. Her eyes held desperation. Free from this torment, please. Give me the life you know I've always wanted.

“Your daughter threw herself at me like every other whore in this city. And who am I to disagree a beautiful face, after all I did not know who she was.” She could not help the tears that slid down her cheeks. A whore. After all those years of loving him, laying her heart at his feet, venerating him- she was just a whore. It was her fault. She should have known that at the end of the day, he was a Jung and she was a Keun. It would never work, their relationship was doomed to fail from the start.

“I would say a little more than a whore don’t you think? It seems you were quite close.”

“What use would I be to her, if my body was too damaged to keep her warm at night?” Profusely, she shook her head as her father stared down at her in disbelief.

"Wooyoung," she sobbed, "Tell them the truth." Oh how disappointed was her father in her now? Had she not been taught to obscure her emotions? Yet here she was, sobbing her heart out-begging for her lover to take back all that he had said. To renunciate their titles together, and live their peaceful life together in a cottage far by the sea and a big family like they had always wanted.

"Remember that you owe me now." Wooyoung turned, reaching for the door handle, exiting the room. Escaping from her father's hold, she rushed after him.

“Fuck you, Jung Wooyoung!" Tears rushed to the forefront of Wooyoung’s eyes, she grabbed his shirt collar-his body oscillating back and forth as she threw all the swears she knew pounding her fists against his unwavering stature. Sinking to the floor, her body wracked with sobs. He brushed her aside, ambling down the hallway with a blurred vision. "Come back, tell them how much you love me." She whispered in her palms.

“Take her to her room.” Mr Keun ordered to her Ki, who bowed to his command urging her cousin to get up from the floor. Few of the servants who had stopped to watch the scene unfold, hastily scurried back to their duties over their master's threatening gaze.

Confined to the four walls of her bedroom, her body sunk between the cotton pillows clouded by the softness welcoming her skin. A weariness tugged at her, Ki stroking her hair.

"How could he do that to me? He said, he loved me." Ki cooed at her cousin, slipping into the covers-holding the younger girl's body as close as she could.

"Tell me everything." Ki encouraged, listening closely and drinking in every word her cousin proclaimed from how they met, their nightly adventures sneaking out of their homes, to Wooyoung asking for her hand in marriage. "He did it to save his own skin, my love. Think about it-he established the debt your father has to him. Had he said he wanted to marry you, Uncle would have murdered him in cold blood right there and then. That would have been all the more reason for a war to break out between our families. He had the upper hand, he played the game and won." Then all she had been to Jung Wooyoung was a pawn to leverage an upper hand against her father. To elevate his position, to make himself more powerful. To ultimately be victorious in this age-old conflict.

Over the years it had taken her time to estrange herself from him, but it proved too difficult since the day he alienated himself from their love, taking the remnants of her soul with him. Regardless, she looked out for the rumours about him, clasping onto every little detail as if she was a beggar seeking morsel. Trespassing the skylines, watching him, yearning for him until all of the adoration transgressed into the same hatred that was embedded within both families.

“What I am about to ask of you, you may place all the heavens and hells curses on me.” Mr Keun declared one evening, as he called his daughter back to his office. He stopped, taking the time to survey his daughter’s features. To see if there was any reminiscence of rebellion or betrayal that still laid within her. “I want you to kill Jung Wooyoung.” The nights breath hitched in its from, the stars still as the words suspended in the thick, tense air. It was almost as if, Keun had penetrated his hand through her body, wrapped his hand around her heart, squeezing the thing as tight as he could for she felt a foreign sense of pain looming within her.

“Won’t that start a war? That could endanger us, we’d be the first people they would point at. Did you pay off your debt?” She rambled, Keun held out his hand-as if it would silence her internal conflict.

“You don’t worry about that. Put your blade through his heart, don’t make it quick. Let him suffer, it’ll make it all the more enjoyable.” He spoke sadistically, the wicked grin on his face terrifying her.

So here she sat, opposite his bedroom, swinging closer to his balcony. Slipping through the doors, her figure remained by the curtains eyeing as Wooyoung blew out at his candles-abandoning his book by the chair. Crawling into his bed, as soon as his head hit the pillow she carefully made her appearance into the room.

"You've never been able to sneak up on me, Miss Keun. What makes you think you can do it now?" He sat up in his bed, a slight look of annoyance resting across his features.

"Maybe it’s the fact that you're completely unarmed and practically asking for it. You could have at least gone to bed with a knife, would’ve made it a little fun.”

“I think it’s fun enough that the woman that I love has come to kill me.” Before Wooyoung knew it, the knife was at his throat against again. The same way it had been when he first met her, though the look in her eyes a million times more crazed than it had been to begin with.

“You don’t get to say that you love me, Jung. After all I was only just your whore.” She spat through gritted teeth. “How would you like to die? Heart or throat?” They said death was predetermined, mapped out for you the second you were born. Here she was, defying the rules of mortality by giving him a choice. As if he had given her a choice when he killed her in her own home, many months ago.

“To die by your hands would be a blessing.” She scoffed, removing her knife from his throat, straddling him so he could not move. Not that he would be able to escape her even if he ran- she was always faster than him.

She remembered the time where she had stolen his beloved dagger, dashing through these very hallways, Wooyoung panting up the steps she raced on hypnotised by her graceful movements. She ran so fast it was almost as if her feet barely touched the floor. An angel floating in the clouds of heaven. How and when did she become anything less to him?

“You didn’t love me, Wooyoung. I was nothing but a pawn to you.” She breathed out, tears rushing to the brim of her eyes. I hate him. I hate him. I hate him. He hurt me. “None of it was real, and so if your intention was to hurt me- you won.” The tear rolling down Wooyoung’s cheek charged a sense of resentment. How dare he cry when she was the one in pain?

“I did what I had to do. I may have been your lover, but before that I am the heir to the Jung clan.” For the last time, his hand drew towards her cheek- pressing his lips on her forehead. He smiled, those dimpled cheeks prodding at her morality.

He was denied his next breath when she mercilessly thrusted her dagger into his abdomen. Valves ripping as the blood bursted from its banks, gushing out of his wound like a waterfall. Her gloved hand slapped over his mouth, his muffled screams striking a chord.

“And before being your lover, I am the heir to the Keun clan.” Wooyoung eyes began to droop, her body trembling as his face paled. Kissing away his tears, their heads leaned together in the finality of his receding breaths. “I love you Wooyoung, but not so much that I won’t make you suffer for the pain you gave me.”

Slumping down onto the bed next to him, she cradled Wooyoung’s convulsing body in her arms, his cries echoing into her chest- tears soaking her cloak. His final breath hitched, into the night his last look was her face. Then his last thought was that when his soul awakened, he wanted nothing more than to see her face again- whether it be to plunge a knife through her own heart or live their life by the sea feeling the rushing of the waves lapping against the sand. Their children rushing around chasing each other as they watched. Hand in hand, arm in arm. After all, it was his love that teared them apart.

•••

DO NOT REPOST, TRANSLATE, REPURPOSE, OR PLAGISRISE ANY OF THE WORK HERE

‘keun’ meaning root

A/N: FIRST POST-FINALS UPDATE!!!! I can finally finish the angst series now 😍 I was supposed to release Mingi’s first but never let them know your next move I guess? I don’t know how to feel about this one, might be a bit crap and may update in the future. Anyways, hope you guys have been well <33

let me know if you’d like to be added to the tag list for any future fics I post!

#ateez #kpop #ateez angst #ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #wooyoung x reader #wooyoung #ateez fanfiction #ateez wooyoung #wooyoung x you #historical au #lovers to enemies

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oldxenomorph · 9 months ago

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heavy metals

pairing: reaper!nemesis/melinoe warnings: body horror, sexual content (sex with an eldritch machine, size difference, thigh riding, overstimulation), 18+ summary: nemesis returns after a century away from the crossroads, now a machine-goddess that serves the reaper emperor. her reunion with melinoë goes a step further, to make up for one hundred years of yearning.

The image lingered in her mind, replayed itself on a continuous loop, but she instead envisioned it was Melinoë’s ghostly hand touching her chest. Nemesis imagined that sickly green glow against the black metal, the slender bones shifting within and on command. She wished it was the faint teal of Melinoë’s lipstick on her neck; she would let Melinoë kiss her wherever she wanted, leave markings on her wherever she wanted. Retribution’s metal body covered in Nightmares’s kisses, kisses, kisses.

---

2392 CE

The end of the rain in Erebus brings with it the smell of petrichor. In the great megalopolises and urban sprawls, there is still that smell after the rains, but it’s different in the Crossroads. Earthen rainwater mixing with Hecate’s cauldron and Melinoë’s crops, the smell of garlic and wheat, nightshade and cattails, their oils drawn out by the biome itself. Erebus’s rain makes Nemesis smell like ozone, heavy and metallic, the result of making contact with her black hair and her red cloak that conceals her giant form. The biome extracts the scent of the outer void that clings to the goddess, from the many times she’s walked outside a ship, the vastness of her mother’s work all around her: dark matter, dark energy, gravity, the stars themselves, the arms of the galaxy wrapping around her.

Best to stay until the rains let up, Hecate had said. Nemesis hated the way the Titaness spoke to her. A cold and forced politeness, a frigid kind of formality. It was clear that the her presence was tolerated at most. We can’t have you return to your master soaked to the bone.

Like an old habit, Retribution Incarnate stood in the spot she used to guard, underneath a canopy of fabric and overgrown flora, wrapped upon her red cloak, her arms crossed underneath. The bowls of burning liquid were still there, a perpetual silver flame and silver fluid that hissed when the remnants of the rain made contact with it. Nemesis is eager to leave this place, she only came back to deliver a request to Hecate from Nyx. Although, the more she stands there, alone in her thoughts, she begins to believe that her mother (and the Emperor) had something else in mind with her visit. Nyx could have contacted Hecate whenever she wanted, why Nemesis for something that amounts to an errand? Something ferments in the air, gone sour; old tensions, memories, especially in this area.

Eventually, Nemesis makes up her mind to finally leave, taking a step out of the neglected tile circle towards the direction of the Crossroad’s exit.

“Nemesis?”

The familiar voice stops her. Retribution Incarnate turns around and sees Melinoë. She has not changed that much in a century; still wearing that saffron dress and pieces of armor made of a silver as dark and dazzling as the moon at night, her blonde hair still straight and just above her shoulders adorned with the pale crescent and the fire-licked laurels of her house, her frame still lithe and toned from all of her training and experience. Nemesis’s expression remains impassive, but inwards, seeing Melinoë again brings the sensation of cold needles sinking into her heart. It’s unexpected. She should have prepared herself to possibly see her again. She thought she timed this visit so she could avoid this. She should have left earlier.

Nemesis only gives Melinoë an unblinking stare that then drifts downward, noticing the glass bottle in the goddess’s hand. Bath salts.

“You’re leaving already? I was wondering if you’d like to join me in the Hot Springs. It’s been a while.”

“They’re not particularly special.” Nemesis’s voice is flanged, split from her old voice, all heavy and deeply distorted, like an old and corrupted audio file. In truth, she has not thought about the amenities of the Crossroads since she left. “The Ziggurat has many baths that are twice as nice and just as hot.”

“I’m sure, but the Hot Springs are different,” Melinoë reminds Nemesis, her feet that glow that burning coals bringing her a step closer to the towering goddess.

Retribution narrows her eyes, the golden illumination made more intense by her skepticism at the offer. “Why are you being nice to me all of a sudden, Princess? The last time we left things, you were angry.”

A century of being apart hangs between them, time rotting away like a bloated dead body. The time when Nemesis came back, all new, the Wrath of the Emperor, to return things to Hecate, to wrap up things left undone before leaving to serve Extinction. She distinctly remembers the sting of the look of shock and horror on Melinoë’s face, how she moved away from her whenever she tried to get near, the tone of her voice. Anger. Confusion. Fear. (Heartbreak.)

Why give up everything that you are to become a machine? Are you Indoctrinated? Is your mind even your own? How do I know that you are still you?

A machine-goddess. Reaper technology. The Emperor’s black ichor pumping through her system. Nemesis’s eyes were the only gold left within her, the gold of her mother’s eyes.

The relationship with her siblings was made even more distant, but she could deal with that. None of Nyx’s children were close to begin with, and her transformation did not change that. Eris took it the worst. Strife Incarnate was always afraid of Extinction and the Reapers, her existential dread masked by her attitude. (Always knew you would go work for Her Imperial Reaper-ness and Nyx, Nemmie. What? Didn’t want to take orders from old Hecate anymore? Didn’t want to be my sister anymore? Were you ever my sister in the first place? Do you make that ‘dial-up noise’ whenever you wake up?) But Melinoë’s reaction stunned Nemesis, she didn’t expect it. And yet, it just confirmed the Crossroads was no longer a place for her. Nemesis had long outgrown it and everyone that called it home. It was not her home.

Melinoë looks down at the bottle of salts in her hands, her slender fingers settling on the edges, her thumbs running around the lip of the cork. She averts her gaze, as though still unable to truly look at Nemesis, as though to protect her own memory. Nemesis’s hard gaze is unrelenting, waiting for her to speak.

“I was angry, Nem. But…. I had some time to think about it.” The chthonic goddess holds out the bottle as a kind of olive branch. “Join me? For old time’s sake at least.”

Nemesis doesn’t respond for a few seconds, the silence peppered with the sounds of the Crossroads: the bubbling of the cauldron, the rustling of reeds and cattails, the hissing of brazers burning. Then, a single word.

“Fine.”

---

2295 CE

The other Revenants helped Nemesis into the bath, their many sets of metal hands guiding her as she walked. Nemesis towered over them with her new height. Getting used to her new equilibrium, her new height, her new weight was proving to be the more difficult than the waiting. It felt like she was not entirely in control of her body, even though it moved as she commanded, synthetic tendons and cords obeying every signal from her brain. How was she supposed to protect her mother, if she could not walk?

Nemesis’s strange, yellow optics looked down at the pool, the water lit from within, steam rising against the blue light. Like all places within the Ziggurat, the room was dark, except for the pool and the technology in the machine-women that held her up. The darkness Nemesis was used to was sometimes cold and wet, sometimes it smelled of ash and incense and whatever bubbled in Hecate’s cauldron. She remembered Melinoë’s garden, lit by sickly green and silver braziers, her crops soaking up the rain in Erebus.

Hot, blue water. Not unlike the hot springs in the Crossroads. The pain made Nemesis see Melinoë in the steam, mismatched eyes and wet ashen blonde hair, the moisture revealing her hair’s true texture, the soft ringlets that framed her face.

When she took the next step, Nemesis landed on her foot in an awkward way and it sent pain shooting through her synthetic nerves. Revenants helped her adjust, their flanged and distorted voices reminded her to put her weight on them, let them do the heavy lifting, she must concentrate on recovery. A few more months, a few more surgeries, and then the conditioning, retraining her body, reshaping her mind; everything made in the image of the Emperor, her vision for Retribution Incarnate.

Her body felt so heavy.

Nemesis heard Melinoë’s voice as her cybernetic eyes flickered, glassy from the pain.

How long has it been since you last took off the armor?

Revenants helped her to the bath’s threshold, until Nemesis insisted that she could walk by herself. She left the arms of the machine-women, her body lumbering forwards. At one point it felt like she was going to tip over, but she regained her balance, even if it sent another wave of agony through her system. Slowly, Nemesis sank into the scalding hot water, the salts sizzling upon contact with the metal of her frame. The same salts Lilith used to help heal the Emperor-as-Shepard’s body after the Skyllian Blitz, or so it was said to her. They felt good, even better with the heat sinking into every small space between synthetic parts. The pain subsided, lowering itself to something dull and manageable for the time being.

When the pain went away, so did the vision of Melinoë.

Something within Retribution ached, made her heart thump against the metal cage of her chest. Nemesis was alone in the heat and the darkness, the Revenants that helped her having taken their leave, to give her privacy. Metal fingers gently touch the place where her heart was, the new biomechanical organ beating steadily; it was the thump of her own pulse, the yearning making it loud, making it hurt.

Nemesis’s eyes drifted downwards at her own reflection in the water, the ripples distorting her face. The changes to her face took also took some getting used to: the exposed metal jaw, her eyes that glowed with the same color of cybernetics as her mother’s primordial starlight eyes, the faint black veins underneath what remained of her skin.

Every time Nemesis looked at herself, she saw her mother. Nyx’s hair, Nyx’s eyes, Nyx’s lips. And every time Nemesis looked at herself, she saw the Emperor. In the structure of her face, the architecture of her body, in the hardness of her eyes, in the way she sets her mouth, in her lines and angles.

It is undeniable that Nyx shaped her in the Emperor’s image. When she first learned this, Nemesis believed she carried eight million years of her mother’s loneliness. But during this process, she learned, slowly, that it was not loneliness that prompted Nyx to shape her this way, but love. A daughter, beloved and brutal as the Emperor.

When she looked up from her reflection, Nemesis stared ahead into the darkness of the room and saw many sharp, wet, metallic smiles. The darkness swarmed just beyond the threshold of the pool, beyond the blue light.

---

The stone pathway to the hot springs remains the same since Nemesis left.

In the darkness just beyond where the light of the hot springs touches, Nemesis watches Melinoë get into the hot, glowing water. Her strange eyes study how the goddess’s bones move under her flesh, how they move in her ghostly arm. Her blonde hair was already beginning to dampen from the steam even before she dipped her head into the water, ringlets forming, strands sticking to her neck. Nemesis’s eyes follow the line of Melinoë’s shoulders, down her arms and the curves of her waist and hips.

The sound of water moving interrupts her trance-like stare, her cybernetic eyes flickering as she blinked. “The water’s fine, Nem.” Melinoë calls out. “You can come in.”

Underneath the red of the cloak, Nemesis’s chest rises with a slow inhale. The water did look enticing, the heat pulling at her, wanting to sink into her frame. She could always leave whenever she felt like it, nothing was keeping her here as no longer part of the Unseen. But she might as well join Melinoë. She did not come all this way for nothing.

Emerging from the shadows and into the the green-yellow light, Retribution’s hands part the redness to undo the pin that held the special crimson garment together. Melinoë turns around just as the last bit of the fabric slips away.

Nemesis’s body is all metal, pitch black, aside from the red lights of the Emperor’s technology, Reaper technology, and the upper half of her face. No other flesh remains, even internally where her vital organs had become replaced with biomechanical ones, specially made just for her. Thick synthetic sinew moves when she does, in addition to the various interlocking cybernetic parts, mechanisms, servos, and pistons inside and outside her frame. Hardly any part of her has the curves of organic life, she is angular and devastating. Woven throughout her shape are wires and cables made of the same black metal and inorganic material, slipped between her synthetic muscles, between the planes of metal on the broadest parts of her body; visible in her neck, her chest, her arms, her legs, nestled safely within her giant frame, like a network of heavy, solid arteries and veins. Down the middle of her broad back is a thick metal spine.

There is an elegance to Nemesis’s new, horrific body. Everything works together, in tandem, efficiently utilizing the Reaper technology, the new black material within her, and her own divine power. She removes the armor attachments that bulked up her already impressively large frame, setting them next to the red cloak and Stygius. Nemesis is an engine, a core, a fortress, a warhead.

She still has her long hair, beautiful, the color of Nyx’s. A midnight black, a night sky without stars. When Nemesis removes her headband, emblazoned with the Sign of Extinction, and pulls apart the ring holding the bun atop her head, her hair tumbles down, cascading down her shoulders and back, a curtain of blackness that matches her body. She sets her earrings next to her headband atop the folded up cloak.

Melinoë’s mismatched eyes look at Nemesis with awe. Retribution’s heavier and much taller body means she moves differently, her equilibrium has changed. It took her over a year to get used to it. Salts in the water react upon contact with Nemesis’s body as she lowers herself into the pool, activating, hissing and sizzling. The water is as she remembered, not to hot or too cold. Just right.

The two goddesses sit across from one another, the length of green pool separating them. Like being an ocean apart, but something in Nemesis didn’t mind it. She closes her eyes, feeling the warmth sink into her. Despite her body being made of metal, the hot springs made her keenly aware of the areas with the most strain. It had been a while since she indulged in such relaxation.

“I meant it when I said I had a lot of time to think, Nem.”

Nemesis opens her eyes and raises her head to look at Melinoë. For a while, she does’t respond, just stares at the the goddess across from her as she thinks. Her body radiates a thrum, a sound akin to that of a Reaper capital ship, low and deep, the immensity of Extinction compressed into her shape.

“Is this your way of apologizing to me?”

Melinoë furrows her brows at Nemesis’s reply.

“We’re not rivals anymore, Princess. And we’re not the same as we once were thousands of years ago.” The voice of Retribution Incarnate pronounces every word with intention, every syllable deliberate, spoken with a weight. “I thought you of all people would have understood, especially after Makaria was born. Not wanting history to repeat itself. Finding your true purpose. You would do anything to protect your family. This is how I protect mine.”

I am keeping my vow to Mother Nyx.

“I get that now, but at the time, it felt like you were abandoning us. One day you were gone and when I saw you again, I hardly recognized you. I saw that symbol on your headband and…. I don’t know, it scared me.” Now it is Melinoë’s turn to initiate the silence, the pause between responses. Her face changes, softens, looks regretful, vulnerable. “Funny. I was the first of the Unseen to make contact with her and I’m still scared of her. Even though she and her family have been nothing but kind to me.”

The flesh half of Nemesis’s lips forms a slight slant. In the past, she would have harped on Melinoë, she would said what she believed was the true root of goddess’s feelings out loud and bluntly, perhaps even bitterly. They would have argued again and things would remain as they were when Nemesis left. Part of her wants to push back, instead all she does is look at Melinoë with an irritated expression.

Fear of the Emperor is a convenient excuse, Nemesis thinks to herself. Yet, there is a truth to what she says. Melinoë has always been afraid of the Emperor and the Great Family, ever since she first made contact with them. Yet, Retribution wonders if she more afraid of the Reapers, the Emperor’s soul, the actual instruments of the cycle of extinction. She distinctly remembers the emphasis Melinoë put on the word ‘Indoctrination’ that day a century ago. It wasn’t just the fear of the Emperor or the Reapers that scared Melinoë. Something else haunted her.

Golden cybernetics notice the way the goddess’s green and red eyes look down at the hot water, how the heat makes her pale skin warmer with color, how her shoulders seem to be tight with tension. Nemesis’s gaze eases slightly when she sees how Melinoë has her hands clasped together. Flesh and magic intertwined, her fingers tangled together tightly. The younger goddess’s body language spoke the truth for her, it told Nemesis everything, even if her mouth could not form the words right now.

Retribution Incarnate glances at her own reflection in the water and sees her own truth, the reason why she made this decision. And it was her choice, made of her own free will, although her sisters would say this outcome was fated the moment Nyx gave birth to her.

A deep breath leaves Nemesis, biomechanical lungs expanding and contracting within her chest, pressing against her aching heart. She doesn’t know if she can endure another century like this, letting her yearning eat away at her, letting her memories of Melinoë consume her thoughts at all hours. They both have went through enough, made their own choices, learned to live with them and move on.

“I believe you,” she says, looking up just in time to catch Melinoë’s reaction of her eyes widening slightly in relief. “Next time, don’t take a century to tell me the truth. It’ll be better for the both of us.”

You deserve better.

For a while, Nemesis is silent as she looks into the water, eyes following the ripples that radiate from their bodies. Yearning pulls at her vocal chords, yearning compels her to finally speak. “When I was in recovery, I thought a lot about you. I thought a lot about moments like this. I missed the nectar you would bring me. I missed these invitations to the hot springs. Even missed our sparring, the things we used to do when I would sneak out of the Crossroads.” The heat of the springs brings her back to all the times her mind conjured up Melinoë’s appearance, all the memories that the Ziggurat and the Reaper technology pulled to the forefront of her brain during those years when she was drowning in agony, every time she went under for surgery, every time she stared into the dark of outer space. “I found my true purpose, but it still felt like something was missing.”

The playback in her head is interrupted when Nemesis felt the chthonic goddess link her arms around her neck, her face pressing against the column of metal and thick chords that holds up her head. Nemesis feels her pulse pounding her chest, in her cabled throat, it rings in her ears.

“I missed you too, Nemesis,” Melinoë says, her voice heavy with longing, “I don’t want another century to go by without you.”

This is the second time Nemesis is rendered speechless, stunned. A thousand things flood her brain. The feeling of Melinoë’s body pressing against hers, her voice, her face finding comfort in the crook of her neck, I missed you; she wants to wrap her arms around the goddess, she wants to press her lips against her cheek, she wants to squeeze her so tightly, she wants and wants and wants. Instead, Retribution carefully takes Melinoë’s ghostly hand, holding it in her own larger one of black metal. For a moment, Nemesis marvels at how well it fits into her own, how her fingers came together to rest in her palm. When that moment passes, she places the goddess’s hand over where her biomechanical heart, letting her feel its rhythmic beating against her ghostly fingertips.

“I've waited a long time for this, Melinoë.”

---

ABOUT A MONTH AGO.

Nemesis had not meant to turn the corner just as the Nyx left the Emperor’s office, but she quickly walked back, concealing her form behind the wall of black rock and resin. Certain spaces in the Ziggurat were tighter than others, not as vast or open as other levels. A century later, she was still getting used to navigating the building, understanding how it shifts; she followed the loudness of the thrum, sometimes the sounds the Emperor’s daughters made in the vents. They knew how to traverse the building’s entirely in a single day, but that was not surprising. This is their mother's domain, they come here after they are born to be named and blessed.

A tightening in her chest pulled at the machine-goddess as she listened to the voices of her mother and the Emperor. She glanced around the corner and watched them. Cybernetic eyes immediately landed on the way Nyx had lifted herself up to be at eye level with her wife, her hand resting on the Emperor’s chest, how her slender fingers moved over its black biomechanical structure, just barely slipping underneath that imperial black robe. Fingers that knew every texture and pattern, every ridge and groove. Her hand rested on the space over the great entity’s heart.

“I have a few more things to do,” the Emperor said, the coldness of her deep, machine voice possessing a warmth only for Nyx. In her red and black eyes, there was only love and adoration for the goddess; long, spidery fingers gently traced the line of Nyx’s jaw, before caressing her pale cheek. “Then I will join you.”

“Good. I will waiting.” Nyx’s ethereal, ancient voice is tinged with a playfulness that Nemesis has rarely heard, a tone that was clearly only for the Emperor. In her voice was a great love for the entity. Though Nemesis could not see her eyes, she imagined they had a look of affection, incandescent with devotion.

The Emperor leaned forward to eagerly kiss the Night, her scarred lips claiming the goddess’s with a passion, a hunger. Nyx’s hand moved upwards, following the architecture of the Emperor’s chest and neck until she was cradling her face. Large black tentacles began to wrap around the goddess’s waist.

It felt wrong watch her mother and the Emperor being intimate. Nemesis quickly looked away just as they kissed, moving back behind the corner. Her metal hand gently touched where her own biomechanical heart was and felt her own pounding heartbeat underneath her fingertips. The image lingered in her mind, replayed itself on a continuous loop, but she instead envisioned it was Melinoë’s ghostly hand touching her chest. Nemesis imagined that sickly green glow against the black metal, the slender bones shifting within and on command. She wished it was the faint teal of Melinoë’s lipstick on her neck; she would let Melinoë kiss her wherever she wanted, leave markings on her wherever she wanted. Retribution’s metal body covered in Nightmares’s kisses, kisses, kisses.

Nemesis set her jaw as the longing pulled at her.

It was a while before she emerged from around the corner and crossed the threshold, entering the Emperor’s office. When she entered, the entity was standing before a large projection of the Milky Way, her shape eclipsing the light of the galaxy. Nemesis lowered her head slightly in respect.

She watched the way the way the Emperor’s great tentacles moved in tandem to her walking, keeping the equilibrium of her great height and size. Nemesis’s mind wandered, even as the entity got closer, thinking about what she saw, what she was looking at. Maybe she could enhance her body to have tentacles like the Emperor. Somewhere deep in her mind and behind her cybernetic eyes, she envisioned herself with such enhancements with Melinoë in her lap, the goddess’s back arching, her name on those teal-smeared lips.

A sound akin to a laugh came from the Emperor, a deep and unsettling sound. It broke Retribution’s train of thought, derailed it into oblivion. Nemesis forgot that she was connected to the entity now, her thoughts must have been so loud. It was mildly embarrassing. A dark blush, the color of a deep bruise, formed underneath what remained of Nemesis’s skin, spreading and darkening the black veins.

“You truly are my daughter.”

The Emperor’s voice was the sound of annihilation, a teeth-rattling baritone, cold, unfeeling, immense. But Nemesis could hear something that was uncharacteristic of how it was normally presented. Maternal. The kind of voice she used for her daughters. Nemesis heard it whenever the Emperor had her arms full of new and young daughters or whenever the drones and queens curled around her.

A cold, pale hand reached forward to gently touch Retribution’s face. Nemesis looked up at the Emperor, taking in her presence at this closeness. Golden cybernetics gazed into those strange red and black eyes, the death cycles of stars, celestial bodies eaten in real time. Nyx made every splendid stellar formation just for her to devour. In the Emperor’s eyes, Nemesis saw the end of Earth, the death of Sol, the collision of the Milky Way and Andromeda, the darkness when every star is consumed, the end of the universe.

Extinction.

“The yearning you feel cannot last, Nemesis. It will eat you if nothing is done,” the Emperor said. She knew about her aching heart, how it never stopped hurting even long after her transformation. Retribution Incarnate looked up at the End of Everything with wide eyes, golden cybernetics vibrating with awe. “Your mother would not want you to wait, she did not make you to be a vessel of longing. I do not want you to wait.”

---

Nemesis presses deep, bruising kisses all along Melinoë’s neck, her chest, her stomach. If she could not mark her with lipstick, then she would mark her in other ways that would last much longer. She’s thought about what her kisses would look like underneath that saffron dress, barely concealed by its length. She’s thought about the way Melinoë’s gorget would conceal all the markings she’d leave behind, secrets only she would know about. Melinoë sank a hand into the machine-goddess’s damp hair as she arched her back slightly off the heated stone floor of the hot springs, pressing her body into those hard kisses.

It has been a while since Retribution Incarnate has touched flesh. She has forgotten how soft it is compared to metal. Melinoë’s body is supple and pliant in her hands. The sounds she makes when Nemesis’s kneads the softness of her breasts and her thighs will be played back in her head later. Her sighs of pleasure, her warmed flesh, the sensations that drive her to whisper the machine-goddess’s name, the gasps and whimpers when she is kissed or touched in a certain way, stimulations more potent than nectar, more intoxicating than ambrosia. Nemesis claims the inside of the goddess’s thighs, marking them with her hard kisses.

Melinoë sharply arches her back and a drawn out moan escapes her as the machine-goddess presses her heated tongue against her warmth. Black metal fingers squeeze the flesh of the chthonic goddess’s thighs again as Retribution begins to devour her, slowly, savoring flesh that’s meant be worshiped, adoration in the act of consumption, to taste her lover in full. Metal sinks deeper into the goddess, deeper into her desire, pulling out all semblance of speech and thought. Melinoë’s reactions fuel Nemesis: the moans that slip out of her lungs and leave her lips, the hand that tightens in her black hair, the way she presses herself against her mouth, needing more and more and more. But it was her name in Melinoë’s voice that made desire coil tightly in her insides.

Her name in difference cadences, whispered and moaned, staggered upon whimpers whenever she touches and kisses bundles of sensitive nerves, punctuated by gasps and sighs. Melinoë’s voice sounds like a song, one only for Nemesis. Especially when she climaxes the first time, repeating the name of Retribution over and over again, holding her head in place as her body contorted and writhed in pure pleasure.

Nemesis takes it all in, hums against where she’s most sensitive, the vibrations of her flanged voice causing Melinoë to whine.

Pulling herself up, golden cybernetics hungrily look over the the goddess underneath her. Desire grows within her, it feels like electricity and dark energy building up, coiling, writhing, tightening within her center, like a mass effect drive core just before it makes contact with a mass relay. Melinoë lays there, damp blonde hair sticking to the skin on her neck, barely covering the markings, the deep imprints of Nemesis’s kisses, her chest rising and falling with every deep breath, the flushed color that spread throughout her body, her mortal ancestry making her even warmer, hotter.

Retribution Incarnate holds her great body over Melinoë’s. The black metal of her shape blocks out the light of the springs, engulfing her in darkness, black hair spilling over her shoulders, further concealing the goddess underneath her. In the darkness of the space between their bodies, Nemesis’s cybernetic eyes, Reaper technology, and Melinoë’s ghostly arm provide the only illumination, gold and red like a twin-star system in a red nebula, and the sickly green light capturing the textures and intricacies of her body. An audible exhale leaves the machine-goddess as Melinoë touches her body, slender fingers made from flesh and magic moving over the sections of her chest, her shoulders, down her great arms.

Fingers that grip Retribution’s metal forearms, following their architecture, moving up to spread wide as they fill themselves with metal biceps and triceps, anatomy constructed by Reaper technology and cybernetic augmentation. “More, please. Nemesis.”

In a single motion, Nemesis pushes her thigh between Melinoë’s legs. The younger goddess’s lips immediately fall agape as the angles of the metal limb press against nerves still raw and sensitive, eliciting another whine. Half-flesh, half-metal lips immediately claim Melinoë’s bare ones; Nemesis kisses her hard, devours her again, and again, and again. An unrelenting kiss, one that Melinoë moans into as she begins to rock her hips, slowly, finding the place that brings her the most pleasure. The chthonic goddess uses Nemesis’s arms as support, holding onto her, even when she squeezes her thighs around the other’s, riding the waves of pleasure surging through her.

Nemesis finds herself moving her own hips, chasing that sensation within her. As much as she enjoys this, she’d rather have Melinoë on top of her, riding her. Through the haze of lust that swarms inside her skull, she makes a note to ask the Revenants how they engage in such acts, how they compensate, how they handle desire and sex. A deep hunger begins to grow inside the machine-goddess, something insatiable. If she could, she would have Melinoë every night, to satisfy the one hundred years of longing, every night of holding her soft body in her hands. Nemesis presses her thigh harder against the goddess as she leans down to kiss her neck, wanting such tenderness in her mouth, feeling the vibrations of Melinoë’s voice against her strange lips.

A groan leaves her. Heavily distorted, her voices splitting and reforming and splitting, pleasure lining her insides. The heat and electricity slid down her spine and into her shoulder blades, slipped into her hips, it makes her groan again. Melinoë grips Nemesis’s forearms tighter, her hips moving faster, her breath quickening, her sounds becoming more desperate as she reaches her peak.

It has been a while since Nemesis felt Melinoë’s strength. The chthonic goddess’s grip tightens around her metal arms as she comes again, her body squirming and arching, the back of her head pressing against the stones. Nemesis lowers her body slightly, her thighs pressing into Melinoë at a new angle, prolonging her orgasm as she holds onto the machine-goddess with all her might, as her legs clamp down around the limb that she was riding. She sounded so beautiful at the zenith of her pleasure, moaning, whimpering, gasping, clinging to Nemesis for stability. It makes that desire that’s been tightening in her core amplify the way raw pleasure takes the form of pressure that makes her entire system ache, makes it feel like her heart is going to explode in her chest. Nemesis feels herself climbing, all by watching Melinoë, all my being the source of her climax.

Nemesis doesn’t experience an orgasm the same way, but something akin to it happens within her body. That pressure, that tightness within her that made everything warm, that feeling of a mass of dark energy and electricity growing, spreading through her synthetic nerves, finally releases. Nemesis moans, her distorted voice rising in pitch as she feels her pleasure fire inside her like a railgun; she moans Melinoë’s name over and over again as she rides her climax, as she curls her metal fingers inwards into fists. She feels her orgasm between her legs, in her gut, in her chest, in her throat; it consumes her, it devours her, it swarms around her heart. Her zenith feels like a hole opening up in her head, a hole waiting to be filled with more Reaper technology and Melinoë’s love. Nemesis groans through the sensation, finding it to be both pleasurable and painful, all at once.

When Nemesis collapses, she makes sure she does so next to Melinoë. If she could, she would have fallen asleep right then and there. Her eyes flicker, heavily lidded, adjusting to the new sensation of both clarity and the absence of any meaningful thought.

The smaller, chthonic goddess sits up, placing her hand on Retribution’s metal frame that rises and falls with every deep breath, her face wearing a slightly worried expression. “Nemesis?” She pushes black strands of hair away from the machine-goddess’s face. “Are you alright?"

“I’m fine.” Nemesis exhales. “This was…. My first time doing this in this body.” Melinoë offers her a small smile, relieved.

Retribution lifts herself up slightly so she can turn onto her side. The stone floor felt nice against her body, especially against her synthetic muscles. It feels good enough to fall asleep. The skin around Nemesis’s eyes begins to strain, the heat beckons her to close her eyes. At this point, she has neither the strength nor the willpower to keep her eyes open. Melinoë lifts up the machine-goddess’s arm, crawling underneath it and positioning herself against her chest, fitting perfectly in her embrace. Part of Nemesis would like to stay this for a long time, perhaps even forever. Instinctively, she drapes her arm over the younger goddess’s frame, but not before pulling her closer.

“Eventually I’ll have to go back,” Nemesis says, her flanged voice producing only tired syllables.

“I know….” Melinoë touches the machine-goddess’s face with her ghostly hand. “Please stay, Nemesis. Just for a little while.”

Nemesis says nothing for a little while, succumbing to a micro-nap, only cracking open her eyes just long enough to formulate a reply. Golden light pours through the slits, their illumination directed only at the goddess that was also falling asleep. “Anything for you, Melinoë.”

#creative impulses #creation: writing #hades game #hades 2 #mass effect #melinoe hades #nemesis #nemesis hades #hades nemesis #nemesis x melinoe #melnem #you can tell i'm still trying to find nemesis's voice but! i did it!#nyx and the emperor are very proud of her #anyway time for me to pass out and snooze

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justins-1-justan · 2 years ago

Text

Doing spooky activities with total drama characters!

It's spooky season! ^=^

Dj!

Horror movies?

Hahahahah. No ♡

You both stay in and cuddle while watching the Simpsons Halloween specials while eating candy.

You also wear matching halloween pajamas!

The moon has long been in the sky this Halloween, younger trick or treaters had already gone home and the older ones which stayed were met by the cold autumn breeze. But bundled up in soft throw blankets, wrapped in each other's arms as the fire roars, is you and Dj. An old episode plays, you feel your eyelids grow heavy, you rest your head against DJ's shoulder as you slowly drift off to sleep.

Geoff.

You can probably already guess,

Of course you're both going to a Halloween party, if not throwing one yourselves!

Matching costumes!! This year you're the grim reaper and a ghost! Geoff is the ghost & you're the reaper ofc!

Laughter, music, and a cheerful energy paints the party. The flashing lights reflect in his blue eyes, he twirls you as the monster mash booms on the speakers. The two of you party all night, for a holiday that's supposed to be scary, it made such joyful memories.

Izzy!

You both scare the daylights out of trick or treaters.

Your job was to stand on the porch with the candy bowl, candy bowl which is filled with fun sized candy bars disguised as full sized ones.

Izzy's idea of course.

Meanwhile Izzy would hide in the bushes in her 'franken-izzy' costume waiting to jump out at trick or treaters.

You successfully made six kids, three teenagers, and one adult man cry. Congrats?

From your peripheral vision you can see a child in the horizon approaching, you stand in position on the porch. The child, dressed like a minion, steps onto the porch. Per Izzy's instructions you hand them the 'full sized' candy bar. They smile happily and thank you and then.... "BOOOO!!" Izzy yells out at the child. After causing the child to subsequently drop their candy, earning a glare from the child's parents, Izzy practically dies of laughter while holding onto your shoulder.

Scott.

Hehehahaha, he took you a grave yard.

Yep.

A grave yard.

The scheme is that you'll get so scared you'll fall into his arms.

.. Let's just say that doesn't go as planned.

The moon shines brightly down upon you and Scott walking hand in hand in this abandoned graveyard. Boredom creeping over you, an idea dawns. Holding back giggles, you loudly let out a piercing howl like scream, causing Scott to quickly jump and whip his head back towards you. He glares at you and let's go of your hand when he realizes you're fine, he continues the pace of walking you were formerly at, you quickly chase after him and grab his hand, giggling with murmurs of apologies.

Area fifty~one alien Cody~Clone from S3 EP15 & briefly S5 EP7!

Breaking him out of area 51 for the holiday wasn't as difficult as you would think!

After convincing the guards you were a trick or treater, they left to go grab something to give you, then you simply walked to where he was being held and busted him out.

Since he had been in a government facility for years, he's never seen a scary movie before! Oh no!

So you decided to take him to the local AMC and see the latest horror movie.

You bought him popcorn and a slushie.

The two of you sat in your seats, interlocking your hands as their movie starts. The first jump scare happens and instinctively, you grip his hand tighter. Only to hear him let out a whaling scream. You turn towards him and your face pales as your boyfriend's arm turn completely into green goop.

Bridgette!

You both go pumpkin carving!

She carves a sailboat meanwhile you carve a classic jack o' lantern.

More matching costumes!! She dresses as a mermaid meanwhile you're a prince/princess!

The smell of pumpkin surrounds the kitchen you are both sat on the floor of, you look up from carving your pumpkin to see Bridgette dead focus on carving the perfect pumpkin, to the point she doesn't notice the pumpkin guts on her cheek. Giggling to yourself you wait for the next time she's turning her pumpkin around to scoot closer to her. You wipe the pumpkin guts off of her cheek, she turns her attention towards you for a brief second and you take the opportunity to sweetly kiss her cheek. Successfully catching her off gaurd.

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creepricot · 28 days ago

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Corpus Matris

Coauthored with @nyxiamoon Summary: Sister Imperator and Cardinal Copia drive to a meeting of Satanists. Things get a bit unexpectedly handsy. Pairing: Cardinal Copia x Sister Imperator Rating: 18+ MINORS DNI Warning tags: parent/child incest, exhibitionism + semi-public sex, blowjobs and vaginal fingering Word count: 4,689 Read it on AO3!

White walled tires speed through the dark, breathing roaring life into a once spiritless highway. Sister Imperator, placed behind the wheel of a well-maintained Thunderbird, drives towards the nearby hamlet, her speedometer eagerly pushing beyond the posted limits. Seated next to her is her youngest as his gloved fingers drum away on the edges of the opened window in time with the radio; the breeze glides over the tops of gloved pristine leather as they drive. From beyond the wind whistling through the open windows, an all-too-familiar set of chords, “Don't Fear The Reaper” by Blue Oyster Cult, drifts over their ears, filling in the silence between them.

With the Ministry perpetually craving its hit of fresh blood, it beckons the Cardinal to quench its thirst once more. And so on this night, he and his mother are set to attend a meeting of like-minded devil worshippers, critical to filling the Ministry’s growling belly. While he may be exuding confidence in one loose, rhythm-abiding hand, the other incessantly fidgets with the sash tied around his waist, his self-assurance quickly eroding.

He’s absentmindedly watching the landmarks morph into a blur as the classic Thunderbird passes them by. The recorded guitar reaches a soft strum when he finds the courage to break the silence. “Are you… sure this is a good idea, Sister?”

“Of course it is, Cardinal. These Satanists are very excited to meet you.”

His lips purse momentarily, doubt twisting inside him like a knife. “Ah, yes, but…” He stares away from himself and out at the crescent moon, points curved upwards like it was grinning, mocking him. He’s still all too aware of the matte-red of his cassock glaring up at him, the moonlight only illuminating the fierceness of the outfit’s palette. Oh, how he yearned to return to the simpler time of matte-black.

“What if they don’t take us – me, seriously? In this get-up?”

“Well, I happen to think you look quite handsome in it, Cardi,” Sister muses, puffing her own chest out in a pride that the Cardinal lacked. “Besides, it’s a hell of a showstopper, don’t you think?”

From the corner of her eye, she notices the Cardinal’s fidgeting. One hand reaches for his thigh, giving it a reassuring pat. “You’re going to do just fine, dear.”

Her fingers graze a rather sensitive spot and Copia gulps hard, his breath catching in his throat.

“Ehh– uh…” He shifts in his seat as he clears his throat. “Please, Sister– both hands on the wheel?” he asks, smoothing out his cassock.

She smiles and obliges, but not before turning the volume up a touch more. The rest of the drive is spent listening to the radio and watching the road twist, turn, and wind, all while the road’s painted white lines disappear into nothingness under the car. Copia spaces out watching them; they were always so close, yet so far to matching the rhythm of the song.

Eventually the highway’s clean concrete morphs into a pothole-riddled residential road, houses and trees casting them into shadows. Soon the moon is entirely out of Copia’s view, its mocking gaze only visible through small patches of light that filters through the trees. Sister parks near the small, unassuming home that’s hosting tonight’s gathering of sinners. With a jinge of her keys, the music abruptly cuts off and Copia unbuckles his lap belt; he leans back over the open window and glances at himself in the side mirror, polishing down the points of his moustache, the minutiae of his physical details of the utmost importance.

Sister clears her throat, grabbing his attention again. “Well, Cardinal, before we go…” She pauses for a moment, thinking as she hums, “A kiss, for good luck?”

The Cardinal smirks bashfully, but leans in to land a quick– but still sweet– peck on the side of her cheek.

“Oh— tsk, that won’t do.” Sister shakes her head.

Copia frowns suddenly. “What?”

She rolls her eyes. “A kiss like that? I’d have hoped you would know how to give a proper one by now.”

He almost looks offended now, gesturing in confusion. “What was wrong with my kiss?”

“Sometimes a lady– your mother, after all– likes something more meaningful.” She bats her eyelashes at him, her red-painted lips curling into a coy smile. The Cardinal softly sighs; he reaches for her delicate hand, holding it in his gloved one, and gently presses his lips to the back of it. Her aging skin stretches itself thinly over veins, and small marks (some from age, others from scars of life experience) adorn the tops of her hands– but he finds every inch of it to be a beauty. Sister could say that Copia looks boyishly small when he looks up, and their eyes meet for a moment just before he releases her.

“Is that better?”

“Hmm,” she hums. “Not quite… but closer.” A vixen look returns to her smile, and she taps a glistening painted nail against her scarlet-tinted lips.

Copia looks slightly taken aback, his cheeks beginning to flush. “Sister…” he begins tentatively, his eyes darting away to nowhere in particular– but her gaze alone drags him back in. “I… we…” He clears his throat. “I don’t think I’ve kissed you on the mouth since I was a boy.”

Sister’s mouth forms a pout and her eyebrows raise in faux-sorrow. “Oh, won’t you humour me, dear?”

Copia’s own brows furrow for a moment, but quickly his lips pucker instead, leaning in until they meet with Sister’s. Unsurprisingly, they're soft and gentle… He begins to pull back, but her painted nails hook the neatly pressed fabric behind his neck, drawing him closer. Copia’s eyes flare as her lips began to part, pressing insistently against him, practically begging him for entrance. A fluttering and buzzing sensation fills his chest, and he can’t bring himself to shove her away; so he relaxes into it, softening his mouth to match hers. It's a kiss that has experience and been trained through much trial and error, but now has honed in on the perfect technique.

After a long moment he breaks away, settling himself back squarely into his seat. Sister’s eyes gleam as she hums a sweet, “Well done.” The Cardinal is practically breathless, his mind racing to process what was happening; it wasn’t that he’d never experienced passion such as this– he absolutely had, (and very proudly) more times than he could count– but with his own mother? His mind still struggles, and it’s all the more difficult with blood vehemently rushing to undesirable places in his body.

Sister glances into the rearview mirror, raising herself slightly in her seat and brushing any stray hairs from her face. Like mother, like son, Copia muses, breathing a sigh of relief. He turns, his hand reaching for the door handle when Sister coos, “One more?”

“Ah… Mama,” Copia titters. “I couldn’t, really.” Copia clears his throat, his eyes flicking towards the dashboard between them. He locks onto the small analog clock that is barely illuminated by the streetlights filtering through the windows. “I mean, aren’t we going to be late?”

Sister waves her hand. “Don’t you know that I always arrive early, Cardi? There’s no rush!” her voice lowers to nothing more than a hint of speech and a soft giggle. “We have time to spare.”

Sister slides herself closer to him. “Just one more won't hurt, would it?”

“I… I suppose not.”

He’s wary to keep his legs clamped together as he swivels them to the side, readjusting himself to close what little remains of the gap between them on the car’s bench seat. Sister watches her boy’s eyes flutter shut before closing her own, their lips meeting again and igniting a sweltering heat that grows in her core. He can nearly taste the hunger on her lips– and subsequently on her tongue; their noses carelessly bump together as Sister grabs at his shoulders, all the while still mindful enough to keep his clothing virginally ironed and fresh. A small whimper escapes Copia as his mother’s tongue invades his mouth, their breaths billowing into one. There’s a certain artificially cherry-sweet taste swirling into his mouth from his mother’s tongue– her lipstick must’ve been caught in the mess– and part of Copia wonders what she tastes in him.

Suddenly, his feet are crossing one another below their shared seat, carelessly knocking the interior of the car with the pointed tips of his shoes. The hollow knock gives pause to Sister who slowly breaks their kiss to scan her boy’s body, noting his positioning and the way his legs seem to stiffen as he catches his breath.

She cocks her head to the side. “Why so tense, baby?”

But then it catches her eye– and so effortlessly, too. With a clenched palm draped over his lap, an ever-apparent growth through the matte-red fabric of the Cardinal’s cassock demands attention, pushing through anyways. Copia’s cheeks are painfully flush, mouth open yet still withholding his speech– after all, how could someone ever explain this response to their mother, as if it were nothing?

Copia’s expecting a disappointed scoff, something that would make her politely recoil and distance herself for a moment, but Sister’s hand trails down to her son’s inner thigh, her palm pressuring— as he shudders a gasp— his veiled groin.

“Mama!” Copia inhales, almost as a warning. His body inadvertently rocks into her touch, but he quickly rebounds once he reestablishes his right mind.

”You like when I touch you like that?” Sister coos into his ear. She smiles, kissing him again before increasing the pressure of her palm, fingertips teasing stiffness through layers of fabric. “It doesn’t have to be all about me.”

“But, what about–?”

“The Satanists? I certainly don’t think it’s a good idea to go in there all worked up… do you?”

There’s a logical part of his brain still fighting this: his mother’s kisses, her tongue against his, her body pressed up against his that nearly drives him against the car’s interior, her voice a low whisper into his ear— spiking the hair on the back of his neck and raising goosebumps that flow across his body—, and her hand, despite being separated by the cassock fabric, resting on his hardened cock. He wants to respectfully nudge her away, to deal with this on his own, but where would he go? On the side of the road? In someone’s bushes? He’s the same boy for whom this woman spent years changing diapers for, and as much as he wishes to remind her of that, her fingers touch him as though she’d never been that woman at all. She’s following the curvature of his cock now, forcing the tension out from his legs and shoulders, willing his body to rest in her arms.

“That’s my Cardi…” she whispers, sliding her head underneath his as the Cardinal’s arm instinctively wraps around her shoulder, resting her face on his chest. When he slides back into the seat, glancing at himself in the car’s side mirror, he doesn’t recognize the man he once was mere minutes ago. All Copia knows is that he’s raising the ends of his cassock until it meets his waist, and sliding down the trousers until they rest below his knees. All he knows is that he’s utterly consumed by lust, and he can’t focus on anything else but the cool night air as it hits his cock for the first time, and his mother’s heavenly approving sigh.

”That’s it…” Sister murmurs, watching her fingers graze the base of her boy’s cock. “Let Mama take care of you.” She’s almost unsure of what she could touch— but it’s apparent by the way Copia twitches needingly in her hand that he wants all of it, any touch she would give him. He pushes his hips forward, daring to shallowly fuck himself into her grip.

”Wait—” He pauses during a shallow thrust. “I don’t want to get messy.”

She too pauses, eyes glancing around the pristine interior of the vehicle. “Well, dear, I don't think we brought any towels, but I suppose I could–”

“Use your tongue?” Copia blurts out, quickly covering his mouth as if he can't believe he'd said it aloud. Sister snaps her gaze to his, wide-eyed in surprise, but the corners of her lips were curling up, betraying the excitement that's shooting through her. His stomach turns into a fluttering, tangled knot and he looks down, instantly feeling shy.

“P-please… Mama…” he asks, much more respectfully this time.

She gives his thigh a firm squeeze, bringing his attention back to his leaking cock, as she brings her fingers to her mouth one by one, sucking the precum from them thoroughly. His dick twitches at the sight and he holds his breath as she slowly leans down, lowering her head to meet Copia at his crotch. After a moment of readjusting herself, she extends her tongue, licking a smooth, long stripe up his length, catching a string of pre that was threatening to stain his cassock. He releases a shuddering sigh, followed by soft moans as she traces each vein, each sticky trail until his cock is completely clean.

Slow circles of Sister’s tongue explore Copia’s head, spreading fresh precum over the entire tip. Copia’s chest rises, watching in a trance as his own beading fluid mixes with his mother’s saliva and quickly becomes lost in it. His hand is floating– quickly rising and falling– over top of her head, undecided on if he wants to follow her lead as he always has, or if he wants to guide her– just this time. Just as he’s about to rest his palm, Copia gasps as Sister’s head falls, wrapping his tip into the heat of her mouth.

He shouldn’t be shocked at her experience– and he isn’t– but the way Sister seems to know his sweet spots with such little effort is staggering. He can practically feel the blood rushing through his body, rushing into the cock that Sister eagerly sucked, small breaths catching on the skin surrounding his cock when it would meet her nose. But Sister suddenly pulls herself back, reeling her enthusiasm in as she realizes she’s getting too ahead of herself.

His flushed cock nearly bounces against his stomach as it's released from his mother’s loving mouth, tapping the edges of his cassock. Quickly, Sister catches it before any fluids could make an indefinite mark on the bright fabric. Her neck cranes to look up to him, a twinkle in her eyes, gently asking, “Good?”

"Ah…” Copia nods slowly, a grin spreading itself from cheek to cheek. “Si, si, benissimo," he whispers.

Sister hums, pleased with herself. She can feel the tension leave her boy’s muscles when she takes him again— deeper, edging to the back of her throat this time. His body begins its quick descending melt into the warm leatherette of the car seat as he pushes himself deeper into her mouth, ever so slowly and gently. He wouldn’t dare resist his mother, but nor would he overpower her either; he’s nothing more than jelly in her hands, and by the way Sister teases his cock with her tongue, she knows it too.

Refusing to mess with the neatness of her bun, Copia’s fingertips trail down her back, stopping momentarily as he feels the clasp of her bra. They traverse her clothed body– all the while Copia wishing he could caress her feverish skin directly– pausing at the height of her waist. Sister’s thighs are clamped together– tight. Her body gently rocks with the rhythm of her head’s bobbing, thrusting her thighs into something that wasn’t there– and Copia notices. Sister’s rubbing herself into the unfulfilling dullness of her own thigh, her contracting glutes pushing her clit against herself; he can see the desperation growing in her increasingly hurrying humps as she continues to take him deeper.

Toying with the band of her pencil skirt, Copia gently slides his thumb past it, appreciating the smooth glide of her silk panties. He dares to slip beneath the elastic, following the curve of her ample cheeks and giving a light squeeze. Sister groans around him as he touches her, slowing the pace of her grinding to allow his curious exploration. With a shaky breath, he dips further into the cleft of her ass and they both gasp softly as– even through the leather of his gloves– he feels the searing warmth of her folds melting around the tips of his fingers.

Copia clears his throat, muttering a soft, “Mama?”

She pauses, his tip ghosting over the edges of her tongue as she tilts her head to look up at him. Copia bites back a whimper at the sight of it— of her. Her eyes are half-lidded, gazing into his own with a look filled with doting love, lust, and contentment. Her cheeks are ruddy and glowing; her forehead is slightly damp already from exertion. Her normally perfect red lipstick is smudged; the rest of it is probably ringed around his pulsing cock by now. She is a vision and immaculate embodiment of desire. Composing himself— through what could only be described as having just witnessed a miracle— a gloved fingertip gently dips itself through the thick of her arousal, nudging gently against her hole, and the Cardinal asks,

“May I?”

Sister rocks her hips back against his touch and moans softly, a sigh of relief escaping her. “Please, Cardi… It's been so long…”

And with that he gives himself permission to enjoy this moment. His heart is racing as he presses inside her, testing her entrance at a slow pace, carefully adjusting to the pressure around his fingers as they push deeper into her. He finds a certain rhythm before he dares to introduce a second finger, and the wetness encapsulates them eagerly. Sister whines in delighted surprise as Copia’s knuckles meet the opening of her hole...

And Satanas, she’s tight.

They both groan again as Copia quickens his pace, a small squelch sounding after every thrust of his fingers sliding in and out of her; Sister quickly turns back to his leaking cock, sucking him into her mouth and bobbing her head once more. Every small whimper and moan she makes reverberates against his shaft, sending a lovely tingle down to his balls. Copia presses deeper, curls the digits, massaging the rough spot on her walls. Her breath quickens and Sister muffles a cry around his tip before taking him to the back of her throat again gratefully.

After a few moments of this exquisite exchange, she pulls back and catches her breath. “Cardi, dear.”

There’s urgency in his pause before he looks down at her.

“You're doing wonderfully,” she praises through a dreamy sigh. “But I do tend to get a little drier, at my age…”

He realizes that she means she needs more lubrication. Which they don't have. Except…

“Use your tongue, dear,” she says with a devilish smirk, mirroring his own words from earlier.

Copia's heart nearly skips a beat. Touching her voluptuous body was one thing; but, tasting her...

Slowly he extracts his hand from under her skirt, examining the subtle sheen coating his fingertips, her arousal webbing itself into thick strings between his fingers as they part from one other. He can smell the musk of her sex as he brings them closer to his lips, investigating for a moment before he slips them into his mouth. He groans sharply as his mother's flavor floods his senses, a gruelling sentiment of lust and shame immediately following— but he can’t stop sucking the ends of his gloves until he realizes he’s long swallowed whatever had remained of his mother’s sweetness.

The Cardinal coats his fingers generously with saliva before returning to her throbbing cleft, sinking back inside with ease. Sister stifles another gasp and moan as he presses deeper and with more intent; her son seems almost single minded now on making her cum. She resumes her ministrations on his cock, squeezing lightly at the base and massaging with her thumb as she hollows her cheeks and sucks him like a professional.

It almost takes her by surprise when Copia withdraws, only to focus his attention around her clit, drawing smooth circles and figure eights on the sensitive, swollen spot until her thighs begin to shake. She’s impressed with her boy’s performance: his ability to effortlessly keep her lubrication maintained, making sure that every time his palm slapped the skin of her cheeks to curl his finger in such a way that it made her body lurch so wonderfully in his grasp… Hell, she hasn’t felt that certain little quiver buzzing through her legs in ages, and she relishes in the sign of her hastily growing orgasm as her toes begin to curl in her shoes. Just when she begins to think it's too much, he plunges inside again; alternating like this until she begins to falter at her own task.

Copia lovingly smooths stray wisps of grey hair away from her eyes with his free hand. He's getting closer; he can feel it. His cock feels impossibly stiff, enveloped in the hot, sticky warmth of Sister's tongue and throat. Every now and then he feels it pulse and twitch, a strong pang of pleasure spreading through his body and making his balls clench in anticipation.

A scrape of a shoe on concrete snaps him immediately out of his reverie and he tenses. His eyes wildly scan the dark street for the source of the sound, or any flickering movements in the dark— any possible evidence of an onlooker. He’s almost in awe of his own naivete at leaving the window fully rolled down, exposing their transgressions to the night air. And there, between the hedges, a hooded figure appears; it surreptitiously crosses the lawn of the meeting place, heading for a cellar door along the side of the house. It seems in their own paranoia of being seen, they had completely missed the crimson-clad Cardinal panting in the passenger seat.

Imperator had frozen upon sensing the sudden tension that filled the car, her lips hovering above his tip; she was unable to see what was happening above the dashboard, but was waiting for her boy to relax into her touch again.

And, after quickly squirming in his seat, peering over his shoulder and through the rear view mirrors, he does. He shimmies himself lower, gluing his back to the seat, hoping to blend with the car’s interior itself. They were safe this time— or so he hoped… Could the pedestrian have noticed yet simply averted their gaze…? His mind wants to race, but Sister’s shallow breath hits his skin in such a tantalizing way, reminding the Cardinal that she was still there with her mouth ready to take him whole, and his cock still twitched, begging to finish deep inside her throat. He doesn’t have the time for reasoning when his body demands its release.

Copia’s hand blindly taps the door’s interior until it hits the edges of the window crank handle, hastily rolling it up until just a few inches remain for the cool night air to filter in. “Maybe we should—… Should we hurry it up?” Copia breathes.

Sister doesn't waste a moment with teasing this time. She sinks down onto his length immediately, pushing her own limits to brush the tips of his curling hairs against her lips and chin. Against his better judgement, Copia's hands fly to her head and his arches back against the seat, holding back a gasp as his fat tip reaches new searing depths of her constricting throat. She eases back up with a groan and flicks her tongue against the thick vein along his underside; if he wants to hurry it up, she has plenty of tricks to make her boy spill hard and fast.

After his eyes roll into place from the back of his skull, the Cardinal remembers his duty. He slicks up his gloved fingers once more with his tongue before returning them beneath her panties and fervently circling her swollen clit. Sister’s hips begin rocking again, chasing the delicious friction of that smooth leather, eager to reach her own long-awaited climax. Copia manages to slip his free hand between her arms to gently massage her clothed breast in his palm, finding the bead of a hard nipple and squeezing it between his fingers.

Her whines and hums tingle down his length, and he feels a telltale knot building in his abdomen, a warmth radiating through his core as his balls tense and draw up against his body. Through quiet, choked out gasps and hurried whispers he warns,

“Oh–! Cazzo– Mama… I–I'm cumming, Mam–ahh–!”

Copia's seed pumps warm and thick across her tongue and down his mother's throat, tangy and salty; Sister readily and exultantly swallows every drop as though she was taking unholy communion for the Dark Lord Himself. She slides her thumb up along his underside to make sure every bit has dispensed– nothing must remain to cause an uncomfortable wet spot in his trousers. Her boy must look his absolute best.

His hands have stilled in the haze of his climax, arms falling limp to his sides while he comes back down to reality. Imperator lightly pats his leg, gently directing, “Lift your hips, dear.” Even though his mind had been nearly drained of thoughts, he’s still an abiding mommy’s boy to the core, and she helps pull his pants back up, neatly tucking his softening dick back into them.

She sits back up, a small grunt sounding as she repositions herself squarely on the car’s bench. Sister leans forward, stretching her spine to reach the rearview mirror; squinting, she licks the tip of her thumb before sharpening the edges of her lipstick.

“Thank you for… helping me, Mama,” Copia mutters sheepishly, slowly retying his sash to ensure the certainty of his cassock’s symmetry. Copia watches her tentatively as her fingertips gently comb through her hair, any strands that he would have misplaced being pushed behind her ears.

She meets his gaze through the mirror, the lines of her face deepening as she flashes him a warm smile. “Anything for you, Cardi.”

Copia fixes his gaze on what he assumes is the cellar door– at least of what he can make from the amorphous shadows from across the street. The significance of time begins to dawn on him once more when he glances back at the clock between them; thanks to his mother, there’s still a few minutes to spare, even after they’d had their brief fornication.

“Do you think you’re okay to go in now?”

Sister turns to him, a lipstick-stained thumb still hovering beneath her lips. “I look presentable, no?”

“Oh, yes– you do! You look stunning! I mean, do you need me to… finish you too, or…?”

“Aw, baby…” Her tongue clicks. “Don’t you worry about me, all right? You were excellent, but I’m just as happy without finishing.” Her hand lightly clamps his thigh, giving it a small shake. “At least nobody will be able to tell that I’m still excited,” Imperator snorts, Copia following suit.

“Perhaps,” Sister’s voice dips into sincerity, “If you're feeling up to it…” She pauses for a moment as she mulls over her next words. “We could continue this later?” There’s a brief flicker of hope and genuine longing in her twinkling eyes, and the Cardinal’s heart surges with an overflow of affection that sends a delightful ripple of shivers across his body at the mere proposal alone. He leans over once more, melding their lips in a tender kiss.

“Si, Mama. You have my word.”

There's a sharp edge of confidence in him now, a determination that stifles any anxieties he once had about tonight's meeting. Exiting the car in the nick of time, they straighten out their clothes as the mellow sounds of crickets chirp softly in the distance. The Cardinal offers up his elbow for her to hang on as they make their way across the lawn towards the clandestine congregation.

#my writing #dead dove fic #dead dove do not eat #ghost band #ghost bc #cardinal copia #sister imperator #cardinal copia x sister imperator #ghost fanfic

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bell-swamp-fitzjames · 2 months ago

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Oops all Stewards! for Terror (2018) playlists

Happy fitzjams davechella everyone!! As always, here is today's playlists post! Gibson, Bridgens (& Peglar, I dont want to separate a set), Hoar, Aylmore, and Genge, my man genge. <3 This playlist event really fills my heart with joy & I've had unmitigated fun making these playlists. Armitage got released in mutineer camp & Jopson with the lieutenants, so check them out on my master post. Thank you to all who check any of these playlists out in any capacity, i love u all <3

I'm also happy to say that I will (hopefully) be debuting a little midweek treat, with oops all Beechey Boys! So look forward to that. <3 <3 <3

William Gibson [LINK]

Spy Thriller by Das Kabinette || You're A Cad by the bird and the bee || i know this: by rachel kann || The Abandoned Castle of My Soul by The Gothic Archies || In The Dark- 12" Single Version by Romeo Void || Living In Hell by Cobra Man || Who's My Eugene? - Edit by Tropical Fuck Storm || Driving by Ski Patrol || Isn't It A Pity by Galaxie 500 || Good Sex by Palehound || Bad Ritual Timber Timbre || Distortions by Clinic || When It's Over by The Soft Moon || Gold Teeth- Re-Issue by Little Wings || I Say That I Will Go by Nina Nastasia || A Complete History of Sexual Jealousy by Momus || Lost It To Trying by Son Lux, Lily & Madeleine || Numby 1 by Goldfrapp || The New Sane Scramble by Jana Hunter || One For The Catholic Boys by Simon Joyner

John Bridgens [LINK]

Lighthouses by Joe Pera Talks With You, Holland Patent Public Library || 24 Preludes, OP. 28: No. 15 in D-Flat Major "Raindrop"- Sostenuto by Frederic Chopin, Mao Fujita || Medieval Waters by Carter Burwell || A Country Dance by Joanna Sternberg || Kitty's Midnight Blessing by Otto Benson, Max Beirne Shafer || Fallen Down (Undertale Soundtrack) by Lizard in the Spring || Haunting Visages by Emily Axford || The Secret Marriage by Hans Eisler, Sting, Daniel Hope, Royal Stockholm Philharmonic Orchestra, Alexander Shelley || Sanctuary by Beach House || Tiger Tiger Crane by Colin Stetson || Try a Little Tenderness by Otis Redding || Kola- Lighthouse Version by amiina || Messiah, HWV 56, Pt. 1: No. 3 Aria. Every Valley Shall Be Exalted (Tenor) by George Frideric Handel || Lonely Sea (Stereo) by The Beach Boys || In Darkness, A Beacon of Light by Star Hopper || Burning Pipers Hut by Beltaine || Happiness by Molly Drake || Drifting Memory Station by Tuung || Hoc corpus by Cantori Gregoriani || A Quiet Life by Teho Teardo, Blixa Bargeld

Harry Peglar [LINK]

Lovers by Kiltro || Spanish Dance Troupe by Gorky's Zygotic Mynci || Warmest Part of the Winter by Voxtrot || Basket by Dan Mangan || When A Powerful Animal Comes by The Mountain Goats || Spaced Out Orbit by Thao & Mirah || Ask- 2011 Remaster by The Smiths || Homage by Feist, Timber Timbre || I Love Me After You by Mitski || Fatally Human by Tuung || Hellmouth by Choir Boy || Breathing- 2018 Remaster by Kate Bush || Phone Battery Dead by Tom Rosenthal || Worn / Wander by Vundabar || Reaper Man by Mother Mother || Plast Beach (feat. Mick Jones and Paul Simonon) by Gorillaz, Mick Jones, Paul Simonon || Messy- Sped Up by Lola Young || Stranger Than Paradise by Mook || What's Your Name? by Doechii || Space Hos by DANGERDOOM, MF DOOM, Danger Mouse

Edmund Hoar [LINK]

Let The World Turn by Death || Check Your Face by Okay Kaya || Strange World by La Luz || Hitchin' a Ride by Green Day || Outsiders by Franz Ferdinand || Psycho by Muse || Be Nice 'Cause by Backhand || Bourgeois de Ville by Mary Shelley || Static by Minimall || You Say I'm In Love by Banes World || Stayin' Alive by Tropical Fuck Storm || Screw It Up by Grandmas House || Mark on You by The Mountain Goats || Mediocrity Rules by Le Tigre || Midnight Dipper by Warmduscher || Cheater by Pom Poko || I'm That Guy by Agar Agar || Candy Apple Red by Annabella Chairlegs || Deunionize by Worker & Parasite || Feels Like I'm In Love- 2022 Remaster by Kelly Marie

Richard Aylmore [LINK]

The Moth & The Flame by Les Deux Love Orchestra || Five Minutes by Her || Arriving to Davida by Angel Rada, El Palmas || Familiar by Agnes Obel || Lavender by Lapcat || The Sinner by Isaac Delusion || Fever by Balthazar || Love's a Stranger by Warhaus || Witches! Witches! Rest Now In Fire by Get Well Soon || Ministry by Karen O, Danger Mouse

Genge! [LINK]

Daddy Long Legs by Midnight Sister || A.C.L. by The Symposium || Cooler by 420 Unlovable, Abby || Oulala by Vundabar || Dino Damage by Miniature Tigers || Ugly Human Heart Pt. 1 by Daniel Romano || Toca La Guitarra by Professor Caveman || Two Time by Jack Stauber's Micropop || Cease and Desist by Mike Krol || Jaws by Lemon Demon

#the terror #william gibson #john bridgens #genge #richard aylmore #edmund hoar #harry peglar #terror playlist heaven or hell #davechella

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love-at-first-blood · 1 year ago

Text

This meme is made by tech & support, most relevant in chapter 31

#memelord tech & support #reaper of the drifting moon #Love at First Blood #heo ranju #archive of our own #AO3

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enoe-of-noen · 10 months ago

Text

Significance

GN!Mc x Obey Me

A/n: I didn’t know who to put so, just imagine your fav character or something :/

The party had been too loud, it stung Mc’s ears. They desperately looked for an exit, avoiding crowds of demons. The room was suffocating, they couldn’t handle it.

They made their way onto a balcony and sighed as they looked up to the Devildom’s dark sky, the bright moon illuminating the ground below. They hummed at the sight, leaning on the railing. Suddenly, they heard footsteps and turned their head to see (character).

“Mc? What’re you doing out here?” He asked, Mc having no answer but a tired smile. “Needed some fresh air,” they replied, their eyes drifting back to the sky. It was an exhausting evening, they couldn’t wait to get home.

(Character) approached their side and stood next to them silently, following their gaze. It was calming, having his presence near. It was endearing. Such a highly acclaimed creature spending time with a simple mortal. It was baffling, really.

Whether he had been an old demon, an angel, a fallen angel, an immortal sorcerer, or a grim reaper, Mc was still a mere human. Weak and fragile compared to him. What were they to do?

“Mc,” his voice stopped their thoughts. The curiousness in his voice made their heart flutter as they turned their head. “Yes?”

“Are you alright? You seem..out of it.” His brows furrowed slightly as his voice was laced with concern. It made Mc chuckle lightly, only confusing (character) more. What was so funny?

“Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“About what?” He asked, eager for a response. It took a minute before Mc could find the right words.

“What am I to you?”

“Huh?”

“What am I to you?” Their gazes connected, sending a chill up the (character’s species) spine. It caught him off guard, processing what they were saying. The look in their eyes hid something underneath. A sadness perhaps? He immediately cleared his throat and spoke.

“A dear friend of mine. I couldn’t imagine my life without you,” he answered, hoping it was to their standards.

Mc simply hummed, looking over the balcony. “Was that not the correct answer?” He thought nervously, tilting his head to look at Mc. “That’s real nice of you, (character).” They smiled, making his heart skip a beat.

“Then…why do you still seem sad?” Despite their soft smile that took his breath away, their eyes told a different story. It didn’t surprise Mc, but how they wished he didn’t notice.

“(Character), you’re very special to me,” Mc turned to face them. (Character) raised a brow.

“I love you, with all my heart. Change…was hard at first. But getting to know you, to be near you, to talk with you, it showed me life is so much bigger than me. Even bigger than you. It hurts to be so insignificant in the grand scheme of things. It hurts to always be reminded that I’m just a mere human. It hurts…to be me.”

(Character) listened attentively, wanting to be there for his hu- no, Mc. He held their hand, squeezing it reassuringly. “..I know I shouldn’t feel this way about it. That I should accept it.” They teared up, clenching one of their fists.

“Mc..” he whispered. “What do you see in me?” Their pleading gaze struck him, his breath caught in his throat. Yet, he smiled softly, cupping their cheek.

“You shine, Mc. Your every accomplishment brings a smile to my face. The way you beam in the most difficult situations. I mean, what you deal with everyday is so much more than I imagine most humans deal with. Demons, angels, wizards, reapers, monsters alike. You are a strong person, Mc.”

Mc was on the brink of tears, their heart racing hearing word after word spill out of his mouth. It was as if it was second nature to him. They took a deep breath and sighed, a weight lifted from their shoulders. (Character) finally saw it, a calm smile on Mc’s face. And a bit of blush too. It made him chuckle.

Mc noticed and chuckled nervously themselves, walking away from (character). “The party is still going on, we should probably go back.” They scurried off, leaving (character) alone.

Left dumbfounded, he followed them back inside, sticking to their side until the night ended.

I had the idea at 3 am but got too tired to finish and I forgot in the morning.

#obey me #obey me mc #obey me drabble #drabble #obey me x mc #obey me shall we date #obey me!#obey me! shall we date?#om!swd?#omswd #omswd mc #obey me fluff #fluff #hurt/comfort #idk how to tag ever

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allyleetheo · 1 year ago

Text

Here is a list of Manwha's recommendations. They are sorted into genres, and do not contain any BL/GL.

I have a separate list for BL/GL manwha's.

I have not read any of these yet. (I'll be giving them ratings as I read them.)

Compiled by Lis (Blob / s.class.villainess on Tiktok)

You can search https://tinyurl.com/mwreclist for their complete list and ratings.

Note: This list is mostly not up to date with the episode counts, so most of the titles might have more chapters than listed.

total amount of titles: 439

Key:

🔁 - Complete works

ACTION

Medical Return (100 chapters)

Mercenary Enrollment (76 chapters)

ACTION / FANTASY

A Gate Opened on my First Day as a Politician (24 chapters)

Arcane Sniper (73 chapter of ons)

Crimson Karma (118 chapters)🔁

Damn Reincarnation (29 chapters)

Doctor's Rebirth (82 chapters)

Eleceed (210 chapters)

Ending Maker (31 chapters)

Estio (33 chapters)

F-class Destiny Hunter (59 chapters)

Heavenly Demon Instructor (42 chapters)

Heavenly Sword’s Grand Saga (28 chapters)

Hoarding in Hell (39 chapters)

I Stole The First Ranker’s Soul (41 chapters)

Kill the Hero (103 chapters)

Legendary Youngest Son of the Marquis House (43 chapters)

Leveling With The Gods (60 chapters)

Maxed Out Leveling (21 chapters)

Murim Login (52 chapters)

My Daughter is the Final Boss (83 chapters)

Nano Machine (101 chapters)

Omniscient Reader's Viewpoint (171 chapters)

Overbearing Tyrant (33 chapters)

Player Who Can't Level Up (95 chapters)

Ranker's Return (remake) (56 chapters)

Reaper of the Drifting Moon (25 chapters)

Reincarnation of the Suicidal Battle God (44 chapters)

Return of the 8th class Magician (29 chapters)

Return of the Mount Hua Sect (72 chapters)

Return Of The Shattered Constellation (42 chapters)

Second Life Ranker (116 chapters)

Seoul Station's Necromancer (41 chapters)

Solo Leveling (179 chapters)🔁

Solo Max-Level Newbie (42 chapters)

SSS-Class Gacha Hunter (45 chapters

SSS-Class Revival Hunter (94 chapters)

Standard of Reincarnation (22 chapters)

Star-Fostered Swordmaster (32 chapters)

Talent-Swallowing Magician (30 chapters)

The Advanced Player of The Tutorial Tower (107 chapters)

The Daughter of The Elemental King (105 chapters)

The Frozen Player Returns (50 chapters)

The Great Mage Returns After 4000 Years (119 chapters)

The Heavenly Demon Can’t Live a Normal Life (35 chapters)

The Hero Returns (38 chapters)

The Martial God who Regressed Back to Level 2 (50 chapters)

The Newbie is Too Strong (31 chapters)

The Novel's Extra (28 chapters)

The Returner's Magic Should Be Special (192 chapters)

The Return of The Disaster-Class Hero (48 chapters)

The S-classes That I Raised (105 chapters)

The Scholar’s Reincarnation (140 chapters)

The World After the Fall (12 chapters)

Tomb Raider King (308 chapters)

Trapped in a Webnovel as a Good for Nothing (140 chapters)

Trash of the Count's Family (85 chapters)

Tyrant of the Tower Defence Game (82 chapters)

Villain to Kill (61 chapters)

Worthless Regression (25 chapters)

FANTASY / ROMANCE

A Capable Maid (59 chapters)

A Good Day To Be A Dog (93 chapters)🔁

A Happy Ending for the Villains (16 chapters)

A Marriage Alliance for Revenge (43 chapters)

A Most Virtuous Villain (83 chapters)🔁

A Princess's Guide to Saving Dragons (18 chapters)

A Red Knight Does Not Blindly Follow Money (66 chapters)

A Single Round at Romance is Enough! (48 chapters)

A Stepmother’s Märchen (83 chapters)

A Symbiotic Relationship Between A Rabbit And A Black Panther (68 chapters)

A Tender Heart: The Story of How I Became a Duke’s Maid (110 chapters)🔁

A Transmigrator's Privilege (65 chapters)🔁

A Villain Demands to Be Loved (70 chapters)🔁

A Villainess Is a Good Match for a Tyrant (104 chapters)🔁

A Wicked Tale of Cinderella's Stepmom (109 chapters)

Abandoned Wife Has a New Husband (44 chapters)

Adelaide (85 chapters)🔁

Aileen's on Fire! (20 chapters)

An Unseemly Lady (35 chapters)

Aria of the Withered Branch (87 chapters)

Ashtarte (80 chapters)

As You Wish, Prince! (93 chapters)🔁

Baby Squirrel Is Good At Everything (21 chapters)

Becoming The Villain’s Family (43 chapters)

Becoming You (124 chapters)🔁

Beloved by the Male Lead's Nephew (32 chapters)

Beware of The Villainess! (93 chapters)🔁

Birth of a Goddess (199 chapters)

Bloody Sweet (86 chapters)🔁

Carefully Choosing a Husband (31 chapters)

Carrier Falcon Princess (79 chapters)

Cat in the Chrysalis (42 chapters)

Catherine's Key to a Happy Life (25 chapters)

Caught by the Villain (The Villain Discovered my Identity) (110 chapters)

Charlotte Has Five Disciples (124 chapters)

Cheerful Countess Sisters (68 chapters)

Chitra (141 chapters)

Cierra (23 chapters)

Cinderella Disappeared (20 chapters)

Cradle of Heaven (18 chapters)

Crows Like Shiny Things (49 chapters)

Daisy: How to Become the Duke’s Fiancée (98 chapters)

Dear Nemesis (65 chapters)

Death Is The Only Ending For The Villainess (91 chapters)

Disobey the Duke if You Dare (26 chapters)

Divorce me, Husband! (39 chapters)

Doctor Elise: The Royal Lady with the Lamp (143 chapters)🔁

Don't Hire My Brother Your Highness! (35 chapters)

Dream Lover Strategy Guide (57 chapters)🔁

Empress? Empress! (130 chapters)🔁

Evangeline's Sword (23 chapters)

Everything's Coming Up Roses (23 chapters)

Extras Don’t Want to be Overly Obsessed (56 chapters)

Falling For The Enemy (49 chapters)🔁

Falling into the Deep End (34 chapters)

Father, I Don’t Want This Marriage! (123 chapters)🔁

Flirting with The Villain's Dad (94 chapters)

Follow The Bread Crumbs (70 chapters)🔁

Forget My Husband, I'll Go Make Money (24 chapters)

For My Derelict Beloved (54 chapters)

For Stella (32 chapters)

Fortune-telling Lady (27 chapters)

From a Knight to a Lady (92 chapters)

Go Away Romeo (36 chapters)

Golden Time (47 chapters)

Happily Ever Afterwards (61 chapters)

Heroine's Shares for Sale (39 chapters)

How Did I Become the Princess? (44 chapters)

Honey, I’m Going On a Strike (54 chapters)

How to Be a Dark Hero’s Daughter (40 chapters)

How to Get My Husband on My Side (57 chapters)

How to Hide the Emperor's Child (78 chapters)

How to Prey on Your Master (72 chapters)

I Abdicate My Title of Empress (23 chapters)

I Adopted the Male Lead (90 chapters)🔁

I am the Precious Daughter of the Greatest Villain in the Fantasy World (45 chapters)

I Became the Tyrant’s Secretary (54 chapters)

I Became the Villainess in a Disastrous Novel (44 chapters)

I Became the Villain’s Mother (63 chapters)

I Became the Wife of the Male Lead (47 chapters)

I Bid You Adieu (101 chapters)

I Can't Keep Up With My Stallion Duke (38 chapters)

I Choose the Emperor Ending (115 chapters)🔁

I Didn’t Mean to Seduce the Male Lead (40 chapters)

I Don’t Love You Anymore (58 chapters)

I Don't Want to Play the Matchmaker! (37 chapters)

I Dream of Health, Wealth and a Long Life (84 chapters)

I Failed to Abandon the Villain (44 chapters)

I Found a Husband When I Picked Up the Male Lead (50 chapters)

I Have No Health (51 chapters)

I Listened to my Husband and Brought in a Lover (21 chapters)

I Raised a Black Dragon (74 chapters)

I Raised My Childhood Friend as a Tyrant (57 chapters)

I Shall Kill that Sweet Devil (79 chapters)

Isnelda (26 chapters)

I Stan The Prince (66 chapters)

I Tamed My Ex-husband's Mad Dog (37 chapters)

I Thought My Time Was Up! (30 chapters)

I Tried To Be Her Loyal Sword (34 chapters)

I Was Seduced by the Sick Male Lead (26 chapters)

I Was Tricked Into This Fake Marriage! (107 chapters)🔁

I Will Take Responsibility for the Welfare of the Male Lead (35 chapters)

I'm Not The Final Boss' Lover! (36 chapters)

I'm the One Who Died, but the Hero Went Crazy (32 chapters)

I've Been Proposed to by a Villain (62 chapters)

If You Touch My Little Brother, You’re All Dead (46 chapters)

Inso's Law (147 chapters)

Into the Light Once Again (48 chapters)

Is It a Fortune or Is It a Woe? (83 chapters)

It Looks Like I’ve Fallen into the World of a Reverse Harem Game (74 chapters)

It Seems I've Transmigrated Somewhere (29 chapters)

It Was All A Mistake (61 chapters)

It’s My Destiny To Be The Hero’s Saviour (33 chapters)

I’ll Be The Matriarch In This Life (64 chapters)

I’ll Just Live on as a Villainess (73 chapters)

I'll save this Damned Family! (110 chapters)

I’m a Martial Art Villainess but I’m the Strongest! (72 chapters)

I'm a Villainess, Can I Die? (28 chapters)

I'm Engaged to an Obsessive Male Lead (81 chapters)

I’m Only a Stepmother, But My Daughter is Just So Cute! (65 chapters)

I’m the Male Lead’s Girl Friend (63 chapters)🔁

I'm the One Who Died, but the Hero Went Crazy (23 chapters)

I'm the Queen in This Life (50 chapters)

Justice for the Villainess (43 chapters)

Just Leave Me Be (80 chapters)

Kill the Villainess (100 chapters)

Lady Beast (113 chapters)

Lady Crystal is a Man (30 chapters)

Let Me Die in Peace! (32 chapters)

Let’s Hide My Younger Brother First (40 chapters)

Leveling Up My Husband to the Max (97 chapters)

Lies Become You (18 chapters)

Like Wind on a Dry Branch (85 chapters)

Lillien of Turin (33 chapters)

Long After The Ending (60 chapters)🔁

Lydia's Great Escape (57 chapters)

Marriage and Sword (39 chapters)

May I kill You, Your Highness? (30 chapters)

Miss Not-So Sidekick (177 chapters)🔁

Miss Time (60 chapters)🔁

More Than You Know (28 chapters)

My Dear Aster (45 chapters)

My Farm by the Palace (65 chapters)

My Husband Hides His Beauty (80 chapters)

My Husband, My Sister, and I (26 chapters)

My Mysterious Nighttime Visitor (10 chapters)

My Red String of Fate (90 chapters)🔁

My Sister Picked Up the Male Lead (59 chapters)

My Warmonger Husband (46 chapters)

Necrobride (37 chapters)

No More Nice Sis (64 chapters)

No Outtakes (38 chapters)

Not Just Anyone Can Become a Villainess (68 chapters)

Nullitas: The Counterfeit Bride (55 chapters)

One Pair Lady (40 chapters)

Only Realised After Losing You (26 chapters)

Ophelia the Oracle Queen (12 chapters)

Please Don't Come To The Villainess’ Stationery Store! (36 chapters)

Please Give Me The Pacifier (41 chapters)

Please Marry Me Again, Husband! (36 chapters)

Preventing the Making of a Tyrant (46 chapters)

Princess of the Animals (16 chapters)

Protecting the Witch's Son (38 chapters)

Protect the Knight (53 chapters)

Queen Cecia’s Shorts (80 chapters)

Regina Rena: To the Unforgiven (24 chapters)

Reporting for Duty, Duchess! (48 chapters)

Revenge Wedding (84 chapters)🔁

Rewriting My Tragic Ending (34 chapters)

Rewriting the Villainess (62 chapters)🔁

Roxana (39 chapters)

Royal Marriage (49 chapters)

Run, Meil (50 chapters)🔁

Sacrificed (52 chapters)

Say Ah, the Golden Spoon Is Entering (40 chapters)

Saving My Sweetheart (A Way to Protect the Lovable You) (89 chapters)

Second Life of a Trash Princess (23 chapters)

Secret Lady (43 chapters)

Seven Years Later (36 chapters)

Savor the Taste (59 chapters)🔁

Side Characters Deserve Love too (127 chapters)

So I Married the Abandoned Prince (29 chapters)

Straight to the Red Carpet (40 chapters)

Swimming Lessons for a Mermaid (101 chapters)🔁

Taming the Emperor's Hound (31 chapters)

Taming the Corrupted (45 chapters)

Terrarium Adventure (19 chapters)

The 101st Heroine (71 chapters)🔁

The Accidental Heiress (45 chapters)

The Baby Isn't Yours (29 chapters)

The Beast Emperor and I (26 chapters)

The Beloved Little Princess (96 chapters)

The Black Haired Princess (107 chapters)🔁

The Boutique at 97th Sheldon Street (26 chapters)

The Crown Princess Audition (80 chapters)

The Demonic Contract (64 chapters)

The Destroyer Fell in Love With Me (71 chapters)

The Duchess with an Empty Soul (100 chapters)

The Duchess's 50 Tea Recipes (143 chapters)🔁

The Duke's 99th Bride (24 chapters)

The Duke's Bored Daughter is My Master (57 chapters)

The Duke's Teddy Bear (54 chapters)

The Dungeon’s Dying S-class Lady (24 chapters)

The Empire's Hidden Hope (21 chapters)

The First Night With the Duke (102 chapters)🔁

The Goddess of Healing (159 chapters)🔁

The Golden Forest (55 chapters)

The Golden-Haired Summoner (100 chapters)

The Grand Duchess of the North Was Secretly a Villainess (21 chapters)

The Handsome Male Lead Won't Let Me Log Out! (35 chapters)

The Heroine Is a Man (36 chapters)

The Lady and the Beast (72 chapters)

The Lady I Served Became a Master (79 chapters)

The Lady Tames the Swordmaster (70 chapters)

The Lady Wants to Rest (43 chapters)

The Lady’s Butler (90 chapters)

The Lady’s Law of Survival (61 chapters)

The Little Lady Tames the Leads (22 chapters)

The Little Landlady (22 chapters)

The Maid and the Vampire (76 chapters)🔁

The Matchmaking Baby Princess (51 chapters)

The Millionaire Divorcee (21 chapters)

The Night Without Shadows (60 chapters)

The Noble Pirate (22 chapters)

The Perks of Being a Villainess (45 chapters)

The Precious Sister of The Villainous Grand Duke (69 chapters)

The Princess is Evil (34 chapters)

The Princess's Doll Shop (33 chapters)

The Princess’s Double Life (42 chapters)

The Princess’s Spaceship (85 chapters)🔁

The Protection of Lariensa Gelinus (90 chapters)🔁

The Real Daughter Is Back (21 chapters)

The Reason Why Raeliana Ended up at the Duke’s Mansion (158 chapters)🔁

The Rebirth of A Tyrannical Empress (103 chapters)

The Remarried Empress (117 chapters)

The Runaway Lead Lives Next Door (41 chapters)

The Second Male Lead is Actually a Girl (16 chapters)

The Stairway of Time (110 chapters)🔁

The Strongest Characters in the World are Obsessed With Me (56 chapters)

The Tyrant Wants To Be Good (32 chapters)

The Tyrant's Sister (121 chapters)

The Tyrant’s Only Perfumer (44 chapters)

The Tyrant's Tranquilizer (37 chapters)

The Villainess Empress’s Attendant (20 chapters)

The Villainess Enters the Game! (18 chapters)

The Villainess Flips The Script! (91 chapters)

The Villainess is a Marionette (54 chapters)

The Villainess Lives Again (95 chapters)

The Villainess Reverses the Hourglass (105 chapters)

The Villainess’s Blind Date is too Perfect (29 chapters)

The Villainess's Road to Revenge (20 chapters)

The Villainous Princess Wants to Live in a Gingerbread House (54 chapters)

The Villain’s Daughter-in-Law has limited time (35 chapters)

The Villain’s Savior (87 chapters)🔁

The Viridescent Tiara (69 chapters)

The Wicked Woman's Daughter (38 chapters)

This Girl is a Little Wild (50 chapters)

This Villainess Wants A Divorce! (118 chapters)🔁

This Witch of Mine (58 chapters)🔁

To a Happy Ending for The Tragic Novel (20 chapters)

To Those Who Long for My Destruction (38 chapters)

Tricked into Becoming the Heroine's Stepmother (50 chapters)

Trophy Husband (55 chapters)🔁

Truthfully, They Only Remembered Her (76 chapters)

Under the Oak Tree (50 chapters)

Untouchable Lady (51 chapters)

Valia, Tribute to Shuden (20 chapters)

Villainess For Hire (32 chapters)

Villainess in Love (95 chapters)🔁

Villainess Maker (72 chapters)🔁

Virtues of the Villainess (82 chapters)🔁

Wake Up, Warrior (53 chapters)

Welcome to Sylvia's Garden (20 chapters)

What it Takes To Be A Villainess (163 chapters)🔁

What's Wrong with You, Duke? (133 chapters)🔁

When I Quit Being A Wicked Mother-in-law, Everyone Became Obsessed With Me (23 chapters)

When The Count's Illegitimate Daughter Gets Married (34 chapters)

When the Villainess Loves (70 chapters)

Why Are You Obsessed with Your Fake Wife? (34 chapters)

Wished You Were Dead (37 chapters)

Your Majesty, I will raise you well in this life (41 chapters)

Your Majesty, Please Spare Me This Time (73 chapters)

Your Throne (126 chapters)

SUPERNATURAL / ROMANCE

A Chance At Last (69 chapters)🔁

Act Like You Love Me! (126 chapters)

Bitten Contract (95 chapters)

Eaternal Nocturnal (60 chapters)

Goodbye, In-Law! (75 chapters)🔁

Marry My Husband (66 chapters)🔁

Operation: True Love (70 chapters)

Perfect Marriage Revenge (95 chapters)

Rewriting Our Love Story (62 chapters)🔁

The Time We Were Young (39 chapters)

Villain with a Crush (Pure Villain) (62 chapters)

ROMANCE

200% in Love (62 chapters)🔁

A Morning Kiss at Tiffany's (52 chapters)

A Business Proposal (106 chapters)🔁

A Step Closer to Your Heart (94 chapters)🔁

Before It's Too Late (41 chapters)

Charming You (72 chapters)🔁

Date First, Love Later (46 chapters)

Day by Day (74 chapters)🔁

Daytime Star (77 chapters)🔁

Faking It In Style (75 chapters)

His Devilish New Hire (73 chapters)

Idol House (71 chapters)🔁

Interview with the Crazy Rich (53 chapters)

Love Lies (83 chapters)🔁

Maid for Hire (43 chapters)

Match Made in Hell (45 chapters)

Maybe Meant to Be (79 chapters)

My Boss's Special Request (38 chapters)

My Ex, Client (47 chapters)🔁

My Far Too Tumultuous Marriage (35 chapters)

My Irresistible Ex (100 chapters)🔁

My Sweet Girl (98 chapters)🔁

Nice To Meet You (67 chapters)

One Step Away From Happiness (30 chapters)

Our Secret Alliance (71 chapters)

Painful, but Desirable (73 chapters)🔁

Positively Yours (80 chapters)🔁

Revelation of Youth (51 chapters)

Secretary Out-of-Order (20 chapters)

See You in My 19th Life (85 chapters)

Sixth Sense Kiss (51 chapters)

Substitute Boyfriend (55 chapters)

The Lady with a Mask (55 chapters)🔁

The Losing Streak (40 chapters)🔁

The Omniscient Point Of View Of An Unrequited Love (83 chapters)

The Pharmacy Where the Wolf Howls (77 chapters)🔁

The Second Lead Syndrome (38 chapters)

Two Steps Away (50 chapters)🔁

Unlovable Replacement (84 chapters)

Wedding Impossible (72 chapters)🔁

What's Wrong With Your Online Life? (31 chapters)

When the Day Comes (52 chapters)🔁

Wished You Were Dead (96 chapters)

Writer's Block of Romance (27 chapters)

OTHER

From Today On, I’m a Boy (68 chapters)🔁

Ice Lamp - The Chronicles of Kira (74 chapters)🔁

I Work at a Witch's Mansion (36 chapters)🔁

I Became a Doting Father (48 chapters)

Level-Up Doctor (29 chapters)

This Is The Law (44 chapters)

#manwha #webcomic #webtoon

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thorns-and-rosewings · 1 year ago

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And now here we are at part 9 of the Reaper King AU💀, I know it's been a while since I updated but unfortunately life has a habit of throwing wrenches into plans. Sorry about that...

TW: As usual, disturbing imagery and some sensitive topics being brought up.

-Bloodmoon is just pissed off beyond words which is extremely evident as he grabs Sun and fully prepares to mangle him-

Harper: FREEZE!

-The Bloodtwins barely stop a millimeter from Suns face and cast a very annoyed look back to the park ranger who just walked into a group of cryptids like it was nothing.

Bloodmoon: This is revenge! We want to kill them SOOO bad! Don't interrupt this!

Harper: I'm only interrupting because your dad called; he's coming to see what is going on... And to hold off any killing until he gets here.

-Bloodmoons look of irritation quickly evaporated into one of smugness and he let out some barking laughter as he looked down at the still bound forms of Sun and Moon before him.

Vamp: Ohhh dad's gonna handle you two himself!

Lycan: So you're already dead, hope you have your funeral plans laid out already!

-Moon growls hatefully at the gathering of supernatural creatures before him but his eyes narrow as he looks at Harper with particular malice.

Harper: No, I do my job. I try to keep people alive who come here, but if you're are stupid or just outright unlucky... Well... I gave warnings. Nothing else I can do.

Moon: So... you're working with these freaks?

Banshee: (Chuckles) You're dating our dad too.

Moon: Oh God...

Harper: (Laughs) And of course, that's a major reason why I don't care if stupid people die.

-Wendigo shifts around until he is essentially sitting in a 'cat loaf' position. The massive creature looking over at Bloodmoon and the younger monster kids close to him.

Wendigo: Did Dad hear the call from all the way on the other side of the mountain? I thought that's where he said he was hunting today.

Harper: I don't know if he heard it per say; all I know is that he said that his 'Dadcode Sense' was going off and he was coming to see whatever was going on for himself... I think he's got the most powerful parental instincts there ever were, so I wouldn't question it.

-Wendigo chuckles as this is seemingly agree upon by all of the creatures present.

-As absolutely bizarre as it is for both Sun and Moon to witness... They watch this group of horrifying miscreants, even BLOODMOON, get along. Chatting as casually as if there was nothing weird at all with the situation. Hell Bloody several times even playfully pats at the vampire and werewolf twins. His actions showing no hint of malice; as he truly viewed the entire lot as his family and treated them as such.

-Suns gaze continued drifting to all of the different monsters in front of him. And somehow Sun can see them each as the children they were before they transformed... He doesn't know HOW he is doing this, but the thought that all these kids had their humanity taken from them by Killcode and Bloodmoon somehow nearly makes him sick.

-He suddenly notices that the little blue flame atop Bloodmoons head has a pair of white eyes and is actually watching him. Upon noticing that Sun was looking back at her she floats off... Those white eyes fill with tears and grows larger, roughly the size of a 5 year old and she stands next to Bloodmoon and just... Clings to him... He pats the little girls head and glares malevolently at Sun all over again.

Harper: (Noticing Wisp seeming distressed) Wisp honey, are you alright?

Bloodmoon: The bastards tried to kidnap her. Yet another reason we want them DEAD!

Harper: (Whistles) Wow... Hope dying quickly wasn't your plan because once KC hears that, well... You earned it.

-These words get cruel snickering laughs from the other monsters present.

-Yet this laughter was cut short as the entire area seemed to suddenly become veiled in shadows. A particular patch of darkness started to creep across the ground. Eventually stopping in the very center of this gathering... And then from this seemingly living shadow a massive clawed hand emerged before slowly the rest of the body was pulled out of the darkness...

-Reaper Killcode stood in all of his horrifying glory.

-After a moment there's a movement on his back and it became noticable that The Baby was on his shoulders. Only now she looked far more like a baby animatronic, one that closely resembled a tiny version of KC at this point. She moves from where she had been clinging to him like a little sloth and looks to Harper and extends a tiny clawed hand. While saying 'Mama!'

-The baby's name is now Shinigami. Or Shini for short.

-She is the only one of the Monster Family that truly views Harper as her mom...

-Harper is like the totally chill step-mom who is very respectful of boundaries and has made a massive genuine effort to become friendly with each of KC's kids. So even if she doesn't have any parental status to the kids she is given a certain amount of respect and they all are on good terms with her.

-Even the Bloodtwins and that was a massive life ACHIEVEMENT...

-Harper takes Shinigami into her arms as KCs eyes land on the bound forms of Sun and Moon and he is immediately bombarded with the story from Lycan Vamp and the Bloodtwins. While Wisp didn't say anything she gave a motion that she wanted to be held and KC picked her up and settled her into the crook of his arm.

-Only once he got the entire story did KC slowly approach Sun and Moon while slowly pulling out one of his scythes.

KC: Well well well... Out of all the individuals I never expected, nor wanted to see again... You two were at the top of the list.

-There is a brief conversation, mostly with Moon just snapping at Killcode demanding to know how the hell a whole forest just randomly shows up in there world eight days after he sent Bloodmoon and KC through the portal.

-This reveals that not only did the Monster Family (Their default title) NOT know how their home moved dimensions, but also revealed that eight days in this dimension was actually eight years in the dimension they had been in.

-But before anything else could be stated, surprisingly it is Sun who asks a question...

Sun: Did you steal a bunch of kids from their families and turn them into monsters?

-The question clearly made the tension rise amongst the entire group in the area. With many sets of eyes narrowing at the sunny animatronic. But the most extreme reaction came from Wendigo, who not only shot upright from his loafing position, now bipedal and being the height of an adult bull moose standing on its hind legs... He slammed his fist into a nearby tree, practically making it explode into a mist of splinters... He made a movement to lunge for Sun in his anger. Only stopped by Killcode holding up a hand, preventing him from advancing any further.

Wendigo: Shut your damn mouth! Our father RESCUED all of us!! Don't you dare insult him!

Banshee: (Tightening the chains binding Sun and Moon) Dad can WE kill them? I'm gonna rip that one's jaw off!

KC: (Sighs) It's alright kids, ease it up... Mere words are not enough to upset me. In fact I'm going to do these two a favor and overlook the fact that he even said anything at all. Considering... They may be useful to us.

Bloodmoon: You're joking! You can't be serious!

KC: Bloodmoon, what are our laws?

Bloodmoon: What does that have to do with-

KC: (More forceful) What are the laws?!

Bloodmoon: Never kill kids, never kill someone who can't fight back and-

KC: And never kill anyone you are indebted too... And like it or not; we are indebted to these two.

Bloodmoon: WHAT?!

KC: Had they not sent us through that portal, we would not have everything we currently do... We would not have our family. And I would rather not envision what our lives would look like then...

...an uneasy silence falls over the Monster Family as they listen to their patriarch, but he brings his scythe up closer to his face and inspects the blade...

KC: However... You did just attempt to kidnap one of my daughters. Which would under normal circumstances... I would cut you down where you stand. So that debt is essentially... Null...

Moon: So what the fuck are you doing then? You looking for an excuse to kill us? An excuse to bend your own rules?

KC: No... But I have to acknowledge ALL of the facts. Ultimately you're not entitled to any mercy from me at this point. BUT... You Moon, could be useful to me and my family.

Moon: ....how?

KC: We have been fortunate to not have any grievous injuries that need specialized repairs... But such a day could come. Be it for Bloodmoon, myself... Or my daughter Shini. But should that day come, we'd need someone with the knowledge, resources and the skills to do aforementioned repairs.

Moon: .....

KC: So here is my offer. We agree to a mutual deal... Should we need your assistance, you provide it. But mostly the arrangement would be that you leave us alone and we leave you alone.

-KC suddenly moves his scythe until it is perfectly level with Suns neck...

KC: Of course, this offer expires in 10 seconds... 9... 8... 7-

Moon: Okay! Okay! Fine! We'll take the deal!

KC: Wise decision... (Puts his scythe away and motions for Banshee to release the two from her chains, which she does and the brothers quickly stand up) Now get out of my sight...

-Moon grabs Sun by the shoulder and drags his brother away, careful not to spare a single glance at any of the monsters, Bloodmoon or the Reaper...

...This was not going to be fun to explain to Solar...

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fallenasleepyetagain · 1 year ago

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Baby - Dream/Blue Fic

Media: Undertale AUs/UTMV

Genres: Established relationship, romance, domestic, cuddlin, talking about the future, talking about children, dialogue heavy (these bitches never shut up), human AU

Characters: Dream, Blue, King Nightmare (mentioned), Cross (mentioned), Reaper (mentioned. technically lol)

Pairing(s): Blue/Dream

CW/TW: Mentions of broken bones and near death experiences, talking about mortality and death, a single suggestive innuendo

Word Count: 1810 Words

“Dream…? Are you awake?” Blue asked softly, turning on his side to face the guardian that was in bed with him. He wasn’t sure why he had bothered asking, considering the sun wasn’t down and Dream didn’t pass out until the moon had broken over the horizon. It was almost impressive when it happened. Dream could go from being wide awake to passing out asleep in under a few seconds, sometimes mid sentence, mid conversation. It didn’t matter how hard he tried to stay up, his instincts just took over and made him pass out. He always got up at the crack of dawn as well, which Blue didn’t mind as long as he wasn’t woken up. Blue often wondered about it, had he always done that before all of the apple shit went down or what is a new development?

A question for another time, perhaps.

The bed squeaked under Dream as he turned over, groaning. Blue couldn’t help but rake his gaze up and down Dream’s chest. Dream wasn’t extremely muscular, not like Cross was, hoo-boy, what a hunk that royal guardsman was, but he was toned, and Blue loved pressing his lips against his upper chest and collarbone. He also loved looking at him, his eyes were always drawn to Dream, no matter the situation, or what he was wearing.

“Did you make me roll over just to perv on me?” Dream whispered, an eyebrow raised as he ran a hand through Blue’s brown curls.

“N-No!”

“Mmmhmmm.” Dream pulled Blue close by his hips, wrapping his arms around him. Blue melted into the touch. Dream was warm, and he could feel himself wanting to drift off into slumber. “Did ya’ just want to cuddle? You know I’m more than happy to do that for you.”

“No, well I mean, yes, cuddles always, but no?”

“...Is it yes or is it no, B? It can’t be both. That goes against the English language, I think.”

Blue huffed, reluctantly pushing away from Dream so they could be face to face. He met Dream’s golden eyes, and smiled. Dream was absolutely gorgeous, in every sense of the word. How had he gotten so lucky? What did he do to deserve someone so kind and so handsome? He reached his hand out, pushing a portion of Dream’s hair back into his silk bonnet.

“Thanks.”

“I wanted to ask you something.”

“If it’s philosophical I’m going to sleep.”

“It’s not!” Blue laughed, allowing Dream to intertwine their fingers. He averted his eyes, burying the bottom of his face into his scarf. “Would you…um.”

Dream pushed back Blue’s bangs, “I won’t judge, just get it out.”

“Would you ever want to have kids…?”

There was a bout of silence, Dream’s eyes widening as he sat up in bed. Blue followed him, heart pittering in his chest.

“Kids?” Dream asked, raising an eyebrow. He wasn’t upset, that much Blue could tell. He set the covers down by his hips, revealing his bare chest to the chill, night air. On the other hand, Blue kept the blanket wrapped around his shoulders.

“Mhm.” Blue shrunk away into his scarf, his fingers fidgeting with the end of it with his hands. “I’ve just…been thinking about it lately.”

“Having kids?”

“I guess so.” Blue met eyes with Dream, whose body language was completely relaxed. “You didn’t answer my question.”

Dream hummed, putting his arms back against the mattress, and leaning back. “Yeah…I, uh, I suppose I’ve never really thought about it before. Not even sure I can have kids. Does the immortality ‘n shit cancel it out or…? I mean, I couldn’t even get you pregnant even if I wanted to because-”

“I think you misunderstood me!” Blue sputtered, slamming a hand over Dream’s mouth. Blood rushed to his cheeks as he let go, flustered at Dream’s sly smile. Any smile of his was enough to send Blue’s heart into a frenzy, before Dream gestured with his hand to elaborate.

“I’m not talking about like, the, ahem, ‘logistics’ of it all. I mean like…raising kids. Would you ever be interested in raising a kid? Ever? Biological or otherwise.”

“Mmm…” Dream hummed, itching the side of his neck as he thought. “I mean maybe. Like I said, I never really thought about it, but I could probably be convinced. Obviously not right now, but maybe when Nightmare is off of our asses, we could for sure talk about it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I guess I’m not really passionate either way.” His hands pawed through Blue’s hair, playing with his frizzy curls. “I like interacting with kids, they’re funny as shit, but I don’t know if…I’d be able to raise one well, y’know what I mean?”

“But you’d be willing to think about it.”

“I would.” Dream pushed Blue’s bangs out of his eyes, getting slightly closer. “Why do you ask? Do you want kids?”

“I think so.” Blue murmured softly, falling back against his pillow, hands neatly folded on his stomach. Dream crashed back as well, laying on his side, his head being held up in his palm. “I-I mean…there’s a lot I want to do. I just don’t think I have the time to do it.”

“Of course you have time.”

“Eighty years.” Blue whispered, turning his head to face Dream. “Maybe less. We both know that’s not a lot. Plus, who knows when Reaper will decide my time is up…”

“He won’t take you because I’ll beat him up the moment he tries.” Dream said as he cracked his knuckles.

Blue cracked into a smile as he laughed, playfully hitting Dream’s shoulder. “No you will not!”

“How much are you willing to bet?”

“Quit it.”

“Fine.” He touched Blue’s cheek as his face fell back into its neutral state. “What do you want to do with your life?”

“Huh?” Blue paused, “Oh! Oh, um. I want to help people, protect them. But, I guess my worry is can I do that and raise a kid? A kid is an investment, well they’re a person, but you know what I mean, I’d hate to…neglect them in some way.”

Dream caressed Blue’s cheek, rubbing it with his thumb. “As if you could ever do that, accidentally or not.”

“It could happen.” Blue whispered, looking up at the ceiling. “Most people who do it don’t do it intentionally. And if I’m working to help other people all the time…”

“B, listen to me. You could never neglect anything, even if you tried. You wanna know why?”

“Why?”

“Because you are too full of love, you adore everything and anything around you. To even think about neglecting something, a kid, a pet, or whatever, would kill you. You could never.”

“You think so?”

“I know so. And I also know that you can do both because it's not like you’ll be raising a kid by yourself. I’ll be right there with you.” Dream spoke, pressing a kiss against his forehead. He opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated, instead deciding to bury his face into Blue’s shoulder. “You can do both. You can do anything you wanna. I’ll help you do it.”

Blue gently nuzzled their heads together, his body relaxing into Dream’s. “Thanks Dream…what about you?”

“What about me?”

“What do you want to do with your life?” Blue asked, running his thumb slowly over Dream’s arm. “Or, at least, this part of it.”

There was a moment of silence as Dream thought about it. He wrapped his arms around Blue’s waist, pulling him close. His hands slowly ran up and down Blue’s hips, slipping underneath his shirt to feel his skin. “Isn’t it obvious? I want to spend it with you.”

Once more, Blue found his cheeks coated in blush. He was surprised that he wasn’t always as red as a tomato. He shifted his own hands to rest on Dream’s torso, feeling his warmth. “Really? With me?”

“Yep. I want to be there to support you in whatever you do. Whether it’s…I dunno, being a hero, raising babies, I don’t care. What I want is to just…be there. With you.”

“Aww…” Blue murmured, pressing his lips against Dream’s cheeks. “Even when I’m old and wrinkly?”

“‘Course. Y’know, sometimes I…” Dream sighed, squeezing Blue’s hips. “Sometimes I wish I could, I dunno, grow old with you.”

“I know you do.” It took a moment of pulling to get Dream to detach from his waist, but he managed to hold his hand, his thumb pressing into the base of Dream’s palm. “But…let’s not think about that yet. We’ve still got time.”

“Right, right. Yeah. We do.”

“Would you prefer adoption or surrogacy?”

“Heh?”

“For a kid!”

“Oh!” Dream blew out some air, rubbing his thumb on Blue’s wrist as he thought. “I dunno. There are always kids looking to get adopted, but with our lack of documents that might be hard.”

Blue had forgotten. He would probably need records or something of his existence to adopt a child and both he and Dream didn’t have them due to their circumstances. He scowled at the ceiling, cursing the Multiverse and it’s weird bullshit.

“We could have a test tube baby. That’d get rid of all of the semantics considering we know people who know us and would be willing to do it, no questions asked.”

“We do?”

“Yeah. You remember when Cross broke your rib cage?”

“How could I forget?” Blue grimaced, putting his head into Dream’s shoulder. He didn't think he would ever forget, considering the massive scar left on his chest from the surgery that kept him alive.

“Well, those super high-tech guys who fixed you up could make us a test tube baby.”

“They could…” Blue murmured, “But why would they? They’re always busy with other super futuristic projects.”

“Seeing how the DNA of an immortal and a mortal combine would be a pretty interesting science experiment..”

“That’s true.” Blue looked up at Dream for the first time in a hot second, and smiled apologetically when he saw the exhausted look on Dream’s face. “Thanks for indulging me.”

“Always.”

“You can head to sleep now.” Blue said as he pressed a kiss to Dream’s forehead, snuggling closer into his body. Their arms wrapped around each other, sharing heat and closeness. “...Dream, you know, I-

“Uh, Dream?” Blue opened his eyes and a small smile grew on his face. Dream’s eyes were closed shut, his breathing rhythmic as he slept. Blue craned his neck to see outside the window, and he wasn’t at all surprised to see the top of the moon slowly rising over the horizon. He pressed another kiss to Dream’s face, relishing in everything the guardian had to offer. His own eyes slowly shut as drowsiness washed over him like a heavy blanket.

“I love you.” He whispered like a prayer into the night before falling asleep.

#fallen’s writing #utmv #Dream (UTMV)#Blue (UTMV)#Dream/Blue #dream sans #blue sans #blueberry sans #swap sans #drue #drueberry #dream x blue #blue x dream #UTAU #utmv fanfic #fanfiction

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