#she's currently just the torso and the sprout

[scrawnytreedemon]

Red Pikmin DONE!!! Her name is Karolina, and she is a FIGHTER ✊✊✊ Keeps losing her damn flower because of it, lol.

Looks puffier on camera than IRL. I'm so, so very happy with her; she's very firm, very sturdy, very cuddleable <333

I'll get around to the Blue eventually... But I need to rest my fucking wrist. And my mind. Crochet takes alot of repetition + concerntration 😭😭

[reblog-house]

An Alien Find

Characters: Gem, Pearl

Wc: 987

Written for @flashfictionfridayofficial prompt 251, “Out There”

Ao3: Here!

When Gem settled on the mountain with her dwarf friend, Impulse, it wasn’t just because of its advantageous position, far away from civilization and with a river on the skirts of the mountain.

The landscape across from her… there was no word for it other than alien.

No, not magical. She knew magic better than most and it didn’t look like that. Hills that twisted and rolled. Platforms of soil, forming natural underpasses. Trees of colors she never would have imagined possible. Purple, blue, pines of yellow and orange. Crystal flowers. Vines that supported their own weight, growing up in the air. And over one of the hills…

A mushroom. Towering over nearly everything. Teal. Like two heads of a bird, sprouting from an orange stem. Nothing about it felt… earthly.

And next to it, a flower, the only thing that stood taller than the mushroom. Its petals reached out like tentacles into the skies. Its roots shaped the soil around it like a magnet, green tubes that left the ground. From afar, you could confuse them for moss-ridden bridges.

But not everything was natural, and that interested her just as much. Builds sprawled over the landscape. Grey, but not stone. And a tower, though it was unfair to just call it that. It stood as tall as the flower and mushroom. Multiple layers of different colors and shapes. Rings floated around it. 

And they were empty. 

So far, Impulse and her hadn’t seen anyone around. No one who could’ve built or lived in those buildings. And yet, they weren’t crumbling from disrepair.

Neither had crossed the river yet, fearing what could reside there, all the same.

They still chose that spot to live in because sometimes, the views were worth the risk.

And anyway, their distance was changing today! She thought she saw some movement, as she was setting up base — a bigger one, not the small treehouse she was currently living in. It was nice, but obviously temporary. She was an elf. Sure, she may have been exiled for befriending a dwarf and also her many crimes of treason with said dwarf and some beheadings here and there, but she still had standards. And those standards were a big castle with a dungeon where she could display the heads of her enemies.

And so, she filled herself with courage and buckled her sword. 

One could never be too careful.

Impulse was too busy doing dwarf things underground and she wanted to do this on her own. Still, she called out to him, just in case, and when he didn’t respond, she shrugged. She was intimidating enough on her own. And if the being wasn’t intimidated by her at first, they would quickly learn to adapt.

She slipped on her wooden glider wings, something she and Impulse designed for quick get-aways, and with a running start, jumped off the mountain.

The closer she got, the more she was hit with how gorgeous it all looked. 

She descended gracefully in front of the buildings and closed her wings. She unsheathed her blade.

Slowly, she approached the main building’s gates. 

The crushing of grass behind her made her swivel, sword outstretched, her braid whipping from the movement. 

“Oi, mate! Careful with that thing, you almost hit me!”

Gem’s eyes widened and her arm lingered uncertain as she processed the message and what she was looking at.

A woman was standing there. Human, by the look of things, but you could never be too certain. Tall, long brown hair, a sloped nose, friendly looking eyes, and some very strange clothes. Forest green… not quite breeches, that extended over her torso, covering a black shirt. And on her head, the strangest thing of all, a helmet without face protection. Orange, and with a texture she couldn’t recognize. Actually, her boots seemed to be of a similar material.

Gem took a step back, certain with her sword. “Who are you?” she asked with a threat in her voice.

The other got the memo and stepped back too, arms still in front of her. “Wh— I should be asking you! You burst into my home and threaten me?”

That got Gem to finally lower her sword. “This is your home?”

The lady looked around with mild panic and then deflated. “Yes.” Then, her eyes shone, body re-energized. “Oh, you must be one of the new neighbours! You’re human, right?”

She looked too eager, asking that.

“Uh…”

“Oh, are you not?”

Gem pointed at her ears and the woman nodded absently.

“Right… So, not human?”

“... No?”

Okay, whatever that lady was, she definitely was not a human, like she’d thought. They’d have to keep a close eye on her.

“And your friend? The short one?”

“A dwarf.”

The definitely-not-human lady took a second and then pouted. “Okay.”

“What, you looking for humans?”

“W-well, of course I am looking for my people!”

Right, so that’s how they were doing things. Gem decided to play along.

“I see!” She looked over the constructions. “And they aren’t in one of those buildings?”

The stranger shook her head. “No, I don’t know what happened. I’m trying to study what happened to the– to my people. They were all here and one day, they disappeared. I figured if you two were humans too… you may have an idea of what happened.”

“Sorry, no.” Gem genuinely was sorry. “I was too busy trying to commit regicide.”

“Oh.” Their eyes met. “And that is?”

Gem brushed it off with her hand. “Don’t worry about it.”

“Okay…” The woman sounded unconvinced. “Oh, you asked for my name. I’m Pearlescent Moon. Pearl, for short.”

“Nice to meet you, Pearl.” Gem stretched out a hand. “Gemini Tay. Gem.”

Pearl looked at the hand for a long moment, frowning, then met her gaze. “Um, nice to meet you too, Gem! I’ll have to meet your ‘dwarf’ friend next!”

Yes, she would definitely have to.

[datoneboardedguy]

Insomniac’s MJ Scream x Male Spider-Man Reader (LEMON!)

(DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN THIS CHARACTER ANY OTHER MARVEL IP’S!)

Author Note: I just played through Spider-man 2 it’s really great game btw.. & it’s apparently a secret spiritual successor to the old Treyarch Spider-Man Web Of Shadows game & I just had to do a fetish lemon on it!

In this version of the story when Venom started converting MJ into their Symbiote Union they saw into MJ’s mind & implanted a vision of the Null meteor & the need to find it into MJ’s head as MJ was first turned into Scream, after she was cured she tells Peter about the mysterious rock & together with Miles they would devise a plan to steal it from Venom & destroy it although this time as MJ grabbed the Meteorite she sees symbiote tendrils sprout out from it to latch onto her hands & she hears “Did you really think that we would let you sneak up on us?..” in her head & realises that it’s a trap & tried to reach for her Sonic Tazer Gun but it gets slapped away by tendril & she now has no way out as the tendrils made their way up her left arm & started wrapping around her torso melting away clothes underneath, more tendrils sprouted from the ground, walls & ceiling to completely coat her body into a symbiote cocoon. Soon enough her will to resist lost against the temptation of the Symbiote & her mind, body, soul completely merged with the Symbiote Hive Mind. Then her body changed back into Scream with a massive *SCREEECH!*

Miles POV:

I’m about to run out of webs & as I spun my last web I immediately started to get overrun with Symbiotes when I triggered my Venom Blast as a last resort “UGH YAAA*BOOOM!*AAAH!” it brought me enough time to attempt to contact MJ to check on her progress. “MJ, you have the meteorite yet?” *STATIC!* “Hello? MJ you still with us?!” *STATIC!* *SCREEECH!* I turn around to see the source of that screech only to be met by a towering slim figure “No..” then I’m swarmed by the symbiotes around me.

Peter’s POV:

Venom has me tied up in his tendrils as rises to approach me he’s interrupted by a familiar alien voice, “Leave him, ..he’s OUR’S!” I then see MJ has turned back into Scream! “MJ, NO!” I’m then gagged by one of Venom’s Tendrils “HMMM!..” “& This time ..we’ll personally show Pete what he’s truly missing!..” “..Good!” Venom says before he grows Symbiote Bat-Wings & flies off into the night to finish infecting the world.

As Scream starts to approach me I desperately tried & failed to break out of my slimy tendril bonds. She’s now standing just inches in front of me on her tall red tendrils & says seductively “Just so you know Miles was thrilled to embrace our Bond & is currently sharing their Bond with the Haley girl. Now it’s time for you to permanently rejoin our Bond Honey!..” then the black tendril gagging my mouth ripped off my mask she proceeds to slowly licks my face as i desperately pleaded “MJ, you gotta fight it! You’re not yourself!” “Oh honey, that’s where you’re wrong. We’ve never been more of ourselves than ever! ..& YOU’LL be back to your true self too now pucker up web head!” “NOO-HMMm!..” I shouted as I’m interrupted by MJ slithering her long snake like tongue into my mouth & turning into slime that starts down my throat, then my nostrils are invaded with slime as she wraps her arms around my neck to pull me deeper into the kiss then her body symbiote merges with the slime tendrils that are wrapped around my body turning it red & yellow to match her symbiote colours then she turns the tendrils into a symbiote cocoon around us both.

At this point I’m feeling the symbiote slime spreading to & completely coating my brain & every went black then I wake up in orange void with MJ standing in front of me completely naked, she gives me sly smirk when she says very seductively “Welcome to our hive honey!..” She approaches me into a deep loving kissing embrace & we started making passionately making out with each other as she turns into scream then we both slowly sink into the black slime floor as we’re making love, at this point I’ve completely given in to the symbiote corruption.

My mind starts to fully merge with the Symbiote Hive Mind & we permanently rebond with our Symbiote, emerging from the cocoon as Peter’s Venom! We & our new lovers Scream continue to have rapid passionate sex until we both simultaneously climaxed with alien collective moans *RAAAAAARGH!!..* we’re now one with the the world!..

The End!..

[monstersohmy]

Cryptids and Human Sexuality: A Study by Dr. Nina Ferris (or Nina’s Monster Diaries)

Chapter One: The Beach

Pairing: various humanoid sea creatures x f! OC (pic at the end)

Rating: 18+ only (minors dni!)

Warnings: dubcon-ish, p in v, it's monster smut soooo . . .

A/N: About the dubcon. Nina is doing research and fully expects to get fucked by so many monsters. Sometimes she'll wake up sore with no memory. Sometimes she'll come to in the middle. Nina is into all of that.

-----

The light of the moon and stars were bright enough that Nina could see the pages of the slender book with no other light. So, she lay on the beach, notebook and pen nearby,  and read until sleep took over. It didn’t take long; the book was a profoundly boring study written by a colleague who hadn't done new research in years.

Nina woke stomach down in the sand with shorts around her knees and an aching cunt. Immediately, she grabbed the notebook and began documenting. She hadn’t expected it to happen the first night. 

There were stories about this beach, and she’d come to investigate them for the book that was being written: an extensive study of cryptid legends and their origins. Specifically those of a more . . . scandalous nature. 

Tales of this particular beach told of all manner of people – to their horror or ecstasy - ravished by creatures from the sea. Sometimes being dragged beyond the waves to be used by others who could not come ashore, never to be seen again.

Curious, Nina returned to the beach the next night and settled in with her tedious colleague’s equally tedious book that would take her away to sleep. At some point in the night, she partially woke and, in that half-dream state, felt something cool and moist coiled around her legs, holding them open. Roughly textured hands pinned her wrists to the shore. A nimble appendage stroked her clit while another explored her ass. Still others coiled around her breasts, tips teasing the nipples. 

And at her apex: a distinctly humanoid torso leading up to a charmingly pale blue face with a devious smile. Wide black eyes. Short tentacles swept back from his head like thick cords of hair. Plunging a throbbing cock into her pussy. 

Whimpers and whines filled the air while this dream creature’s tentacles squeezed tighter and pushed its prey’s limbs further apart. Tendrils of pleasure sprouted Nina’s core, creeping further with every thrust until they bloomed, releasing an orgasm so deep and long and rolling that it could ruin a person. The dream creature soon followed, slamming hard, spilling cold into her heat..

It was the weirdest, most tantalising dream – possibly a dream? – Nina had ever had.

In the morning, she woke to find her shorts and tank ripped open to leave her totally exposed to the sun, sand, and waves. Red circles decorated her body. Again, that ache. 

It seemed the tales may be true. 

The next night Nina lay on the beach naked, notebook nearby, and waited.

When the silvery light was brightest, he arrived. Scaled and taloned, he slowly emerged from the lapping waves, pulling his body away from the sea. Nina sat up, alert. 

This was no dream. 

She rose and went to the breakline, notebook in hand and started taking notes and sketching. Iridescent scales glittering in shades of teal and gold. Delicate, blue-veined fins cascaded along his head; they must look beautiful rippling in the currents. Well-muscled arms and torso transitioned to the lower body of a fish with a wide and powerful fin at the end. 

A merman. 

This merman wasn’t struggling; just waiting calmly as the tide receded. Once the break had stopped lapping at his fin, the fish tail began to separate and form legs. 

Nina reeled away and fell back against the sand, notebook flung aside as he stood on two legs and walked toward her. She should run, knowing that was the right response. But, she was held still. Not by trance or concern for the study. He was beautiful and she wanted him. Hoped he wanted her. 

“So, you’re the curious little human who has brought such pleasure to the deeps these last days.” His voice crashed like the waves behind him. “I wonder if you would also entertain me.”

Nina opened her legs and he fell to his knees between them. Taloned hands feathered her nipples until they pebbled. She brought her hands to his scaled shoulders and slid them down along his chest and sides, gasping at each new inch of him under her fingers until they found what he had for her: long and thick and ridged. 

Gently, talons skated up her arms, pinning her wrists to the shore above her head. His mouth went to her ear as she breathed hard.

“Do you want this?” 

“Yes,” Nina whimpered. “Please, yes.”

The merman slowly pushed in, paying attention to her sounds and making every effort not to hurt her. Nina gasped at the feel of his cock stretching her walls further than ever. Once he bottomed out, he waited until she nodded before pushing in again. She looked at him differently. Not with fear or feral lust. WIth wonder and a sweet smile. 

She brought her lips to his cheek, brushing them against the scales. He pressed his forehead to hers and increased the pace, listening to her song, noting the way she moved. 

Nina clutched his shoulder and shoved hard, guiding this merman to lay on his back in the sand while she straddled him. He was fascinated by the control she took. Taloned hands grasped her breasts as she frantically bounced on his cock, chasing that release and finding it loudly, head thrown back as her cries filled the night. 

The merman’s hands fell to this unexpected woman’s hips and held her still while he thrusted up, relentlessly seeking his own climax until, growling, he came ice cold and salty inside her.  

She fell forward, panting against his chest and he extended the usual offer.

“Would you like to come with me? To the sea?”

Nina shot up, pushing her hands against his chest, eyes wild with panic.

“Can I come back?” she asked. The question was barely a whisper.

“If you desire,” he rippled. “Most don’t.”

“Are they– do–,” Nina faltered. “Do they drown?”

“No, they don’t drown. We have ways of ensuring that doesn’t happen,”  he laughed. “They simply feel there’s no reason to come back. With the stories they’ve told us, why would anyone want to return to the shore?” 

Nina wanted to go. Truly wanted to follow this golden merman who shimmered like the moon on the sea to his home beneath it. But, there was so much work to be done for the book. The offer was extremely enticing. Just not now.

“Not yet,” she said with a glimmer in her eye. “There are quite a number of stories and legends that need investigation.”

“I’m sure there are,” the merman chuckled like waves lapping against rocks, intrigued by this fearless woman. “Should you change your mind, come back on a full moon and wait for the tide. I’ll look for you.”

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

Meet Dr. Nina Ferris:

[rattling-reverberations]

Only Around You

Angstober day 14

Warnings: Implications of sex, religious themes, implications of religious trauma, parental neglect, starvation, murder, specifically genocide, arson, cults, HawkScar (Hawkmoth x Scar)

The pages of Hawkmoth's book flipped one by one as his eyes scanned the pages, re-reading every story he's already melted into his mind. Even though his eyes were failing him, he could still remember the text as clear as it was on the first day he was gifted the book.

He currently laid on his too small bed in his too small house that was more of a shed than anything else. His upper torso was bare, covered by the thin sheets that barely kept him warm at night. He had half a mind to go and grab his overcoat, but was too engrossed in what he was currently doing.

His collar bones and neck were covered in marks from the bitter lying next to him. While Hawkmoth was content on his stomach, head propped up by his arms, Scar was gazing up at the mildew covered ceiling. His body was covered in marks, but only those pertaining to his namesake.

"You could always come back to the main base," Scar offered, plucking some of the chipped paint off the wall. "It's a lot more sanitary. And there's not glass on the floor. You don't have to worry about safety hazards."

Hawkmoth hummed in response. "Can't do that yet. I haven't fulfilled my promise to the Locust Mother. I need to stay here for a few more days."

Scar rolled over onto his side, resting up on his elbows. "Tell me more about the Locust Mother. You worship her like a god, and yet, I have not heard of her. You joined the Fracsidus so easily. Isn't that sacrilegious?"

The mage shut his book with a swift and gentle movement and set it to the side. "That's a loaded question, sir," he answered with a sly tug at his lips. He crawled over at sat on Scar's lap, laying a hand over his leader's bare chest. "In order to tell you that, I need to read you a fairy tale about an angel."

"Once upon a time, there lived a woman in a poor town. She had two kids, Mary and Gabriel. But dear old mommy didn't want either of them, but as the duty of motherhood demanded, she was forced to take care of them. So, she kept them locked within her house that was quickly falling into disrepair.

"Their town hadn't gifted the local deity in over seven years and was dealing with a devastating famine. Not even the wealthy could afford proper food. So, Gabriel took it upon himself to go against mother's wishes. He left the house to ask the deity for food. When he didn't return, imagine the people's surprise when the fields started to grow food again.

"Just one blood sacrifice wasn't enough for the deity, and after a week, all the crops withered again except for one apple tree. All but one of the apples had rotted and fallen off. No one dared to touch that tree, as it was cursed by the deity's blood moon.

"But Mary got hungry. So hungry, she could barely move. But she made her way to the tree, leaving the house when mommy told her not to. When she reached for the apple, she felt the pull of the blood moon. Their deity spoke to her, begging her to come to the field.

"Mary was nothing if not loyal to her deity, listening to every story and trying to read every book even though her eyes failed her, and she couldn't comprehend the words. She listened to the deity and made her way to where it had asked.

"From the ground sprouted a gnarled and crooked tree, crawling with locusts. As it grew, its body shifted into that of a woman, a Locust Mother. She extended her many arms to her most devoted follower and lifted them from their mortal shell.

"No longer would Mary be the one receiving their god's message, but now they would deliver it. Like the Archangel Gabriel, he donned the new identity they didn't know they needed. Finally able to live the life they desired. But the Locust Mother would not grant Gabriel her gift just yet.

"You are feeble, child,' she said. 'You must gain strength and return to me. Then, and only then, will you be given my blessing.' And so, for the next ten years, the Archangel would reach his full potential. He traded starvation for medicine, weakness for strength, and his old name for one that fit.

"When the day came for him to return, he held out his hands to the Locust Mother, showing her how he went from a body that bordered on the line of a skeleton, to a person who was no longer starving. Holding out his hands, he received the blessing of her story book.

"With this book came a portion of her power. At his fingertips, he held the ability to command the swarms of locusts, moths, spiders, and every other species of the Mother's horde.

"In his revenge against the town that deemed him unworthy and unloved, he gave them a few weeks to repent by delivering the Locust Mother a blood sacrifice. He demanded the body of his birth mother, a trade to the maternal monster that had taken him in when she failed.

"Their city burned to the ground, when the people heard what was going on. Gabriel has whispered amongst the people the lies they had been fed by the rich. And so, as the Archangel stood amongst the flames, he summoned maggots and roaches and other insects to help him bury the people in the field for the Locust Mother."

Hawkmoth reveled in the horrified look on Scar's face. Only once an era was anyone able to see it. Such a twisted look of abject terror. "Well, dear leader," Hawkmoth cooed. "Did that answer your question as to why I follow the Locust Mother? She gave me what I needed, and in turn, I need the knowledge of the Fracsidus on Threnodians to get closer to her."

"I tell you this because I trust you. I can only tell this story around you, dear leader."

[vulpenthefox]

The Dreaming

It's been a long day.

A long day of rest, recovery, and fighting infection. My paw bleeds a thin white, sickness trapped in a bulging, purple digit. But the day of nothing, finally, is over.

I close my eyes, Luna welcoming me, in my true form, into the dreaming.

My white fur coats a humanoid shape, and I feel the flaps of my gills. Yellow-tinged, feathered wings sprout from my back, both aiding in flight and swimming. My furred tail of a fox is long, reaching past my knees.

I drift through the in-between, a place between my dreams I have dubbed "The Night Sea." A dark place, one beyond color with crystaline orbs that float on its currents; I gently push my wings through the emptyness of the vast sea.

I swim past the orbs, viewing each one. The first is a memory of myself, in this life, young. Playing with the animals. How naiive I was, at that time not knowing of the Night Sea, nor awoken to my truest nature.

The next orb is a memory from my siren years; I see myself, conversing with the shape some may deem monsterus; from the torso up, human, but below similar to a hydra. Several serpentine heads sprout from where the torso begins- six, to be precise. Oh, and the fact that she is the size of a greek warship. I watch for a moment in the Night Sea as i converse with Scylla, laughing and exchanging stories.

The last one I come across seems to find its way to me almost every night, no matter how hard I try to push it away; A small orb, with a blue hue. I sigh as it plays out.

Me, as a small arctic fox is trailing a pack of wolves; I would often follow them as they hunted, and scavange thier scraps for my family like a vulture. Not glamorus, sure, but it got us through the winters such as this.

I was having fun. Jumping, playful as I went back to my den with the food, excited to show my family. That's when I saw it.

A pale, naked monkey. It held a long stick with something shiny at the end. I looked at it, and tilted my head, and then-

BANG!

I wake up. I'm safe, I'm human- physically, at least. But I can still feel my paws, my ears, my tail... my chest. It hurts, like someone drove a cold, steel dagger not just into but through my heart.

I check the time. 2:07 AM.

I sigh. I need to get some rest, if I can.

Time to try to return to The Dreaming.

[gameguy20100]

Furry situation.

Juleka sat in class bored.

She didn't mind school, but some classes got spectacularly dull. Especially with Ms Mendeleiev who clearly wasn't into their current subject. If it wasn't chemicals this lady just didn't want to know.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a twisting in her stomach. Like she was about to vomit.

"Uh, Mrs Mendeleiev" Juleka mumbled with her hand up.

" Speak properly girl!" The teacher snapped.

"I'm. I'm " Juleka tried to say but her anxiety never reacted well to being yelled at.

"Oh for crying out loud! If you need the bathroom just go!"

Juleka didn't need to be told twice.

While she didn't puke, she did still feel weird. Her body was itching all over, she took off her glove to take a look and gasped.

Orange fur was sprouting from the arm she wore her Miraculous on. Ladybug said there would be side effects, but this was a surprise.

It was getting worse, it spread to her hand and her nails lengthened into razor sharp claws. That annoyed her. Doing the art on her nails always took forever and she loved how they looked.

As it spread to her chest she felt her bones warp and contort. It didn't hurt, but that made it weirder if anything.

The fur rapidly covered her torso and spread to her other arm. She had lost her breasts and felt her muscle get denser. Causing her to panic.

"Hey Julie." Said a sweet and familiar voice from outside. " You OK in there?"

Oh fuck. Not Rose! Not now!

"I'm fine." Juleka replied but her voice was distorted by the changes to her vocal cords.

"You don't sound fine." Rose argued. "I'm coming in"

"No wait don't!" Juleka screamed. But it was too late.

Rose jumped and held in a scream at Juleka’s twisted form.

After she had a drink it was easier to discuss it.

" So. I'm dating a were tiger." Rose joked but it didn't help.

Now naked and covered in fur from head to toe Juleka tried to shrink into herself but with her enhanced bulk that was impossible.

"You’re still beautiful honey. At least you got a cool animal. I'd be turning into a pig! Imagine that." Rose said and started giggling at the idea.

Juleka smiled, or at least tried too. Her facial muscles had warped completely. And she could feel her jaw twisting.

Standing up was also out of the question. Her legs were now digigrade, but she rolled on her side as the tail shot out the base of her spine.

Now on all fours, Juleka winced expecting to go become a blood thirsty beast. That didn't happen.

" That still you Juleka?" Rose asked, backed into a corner. The puur seemed like a yes."Oh you're beautiful!" Rose said after she calmed down. And proceeded to scratch Juleka behind the ears. As well as her entire face.

"It's OK. We'll fix this. We'll find Ladybug and she will fix you."

Juleka purred and rubbed her head against Roses chest.

"So, um Juleka. Before we do that." Rose’s fave went red and she rubbed her neck.

Juleka stopped and wondered what Rose was getting at.

"I've always wanted to ride a tiger. They're so cool! Could I?"

If Juleka could roll her eyes and giggle she would. Instead she purred and dipped her head, which Rose took as a yes. Sitting just behind the shoulder blades of her new form Rose then cheered and ordered Juleka out of the bathroom.

"Onwards! My beautiful mount!" Rose cried at the top of her voice. And the two ran around the city not caring at all who saw them.

[nemeseos-noctua]

Heyyy, uhh, sorry if I'm annoying you, but I wanted to ask if u could maybe make hcs of some genshin boys comforting you after someone made fun of u because of ur skin color (it sounds weird, ik, but I would like to show it to my friend then cuz ppl keep making fun of her skin color and she feels really insecure about her skin so, if u make this, she'll probably feel better :) ) and again, sorry if I'm annoying.

𝐅𝐄𝐀𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: childe, zhongli, kazuha (separate) x gn!reader

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: mockery towards skin, insults, childe's true name, liyue archon quest spoilers

𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒: i don't know what genshin characters you wanted, but i'll just add some of the comfort characters!

honestly? he'd be seething.

how dare someone insult you because of the color of your skin? even though he wasn't the best person, that was absolutely detestable.

childe does not tolerate any sort of disrespect to those he loves. and you? you are no exception.

"Excuse me—?!" Childe stepped forward almost instantly once an insult sprouted from that person's lips. His fingers tightened, preparing to materialize his hydro swords, that piece of filth was lucky you were there to hold the Harbinger back.

"Childe, don't." You stared down at the ground, glaring at it as if it were the most interesting thing in the world. You had no time for a fight, and neither did you have the confidence to defend yourself.

This is uncomfortable. Rubbing your palms up and down your arms, the ginger was quick to notice your habits of insecurities. Guiding you away into the swarming crowd of Liyue Harbor, deep blue eyes spared one last look at the person who insulted you, imprinting their appearance into his irises.

"Darling, don't listen to them," Childe spoke up almost instantly. Never, he thinks, never ever let anyone tell you anything like that.

You don't respond. How could you not? Mirrors were windows to your fears, people were judging, and you, you were nothing. Nothing in this grand, grand world.

It's not your fault. Your mind argues, and yet, you could not bring yourself to agree. Perhaps if you had been the standard, or been prettier, or anything else that wasn't... you.

Maybe you'd be better then.

And Childe—your beloved partner, could only watch in horror as you spiraled down despair. This is not okay, he knows, and yet, he is afraid.

He's afraid because he does not know what to say. To him, you are the most beautiful thing in the world—a flower that blooms in winter, a firefly amongst the darkness.

Regardless of his own fears, Ajax takes your hand in his. He laces his gloved fingers together with yours, the calluses of his palms being masked behind fabric.

And he squeezes lightly. He squeezes your hand once, twice, thrice. He squeezes with each syllable that "I love you" has, he holds you gently yet firmly, as if you were about to slip into the currents of your raging mind.

Rounding a corner, Childe brings you into a secluded alleyway. It's cold, too cold.

But then it was warm. It was warm because the familiar scent of Childe's (sometimes too strong) cologne filled your senses.

Soon after, a breath tickled the shell of your ear.

"Love."

Childe's voice was unusually tender for a battle-worn man. To others, he was a villainous Harbinger who brought nothing but despair and debt, an omen of doom, if you will.

He holds you tighter to his torso, his back leaned against a wall as he supports you with his own strength.

"You're beautiful, I promise."

It's curt and concise. Childe was usually one to spew blunt words, like 'die!' or 'this is going to hurt!' to his enemies, but with you, it seemed as though he could be a bard.

He knows such words will not be enough to convince you, but he hopes it will be of little help—just for now.

And as you bury your head into his scent, the Harbinger's eyes glint dangerously under the minimal light.

He wonders if that person will still be talking after some hits.

from here on out, childe compliments you to no end.

you thought it was bad before? well, now the ginger is fluent in 50 different ways to say you're beautiful. every morning, he wakes you up with a, "mornin', beautiful!" and leaves with a "see you, darling!". you will never EVER catch a break.

also, what happened to the person who insulted you?

...

hm.

unlike childe (who charged headfirst into battle), zhongli would rather shield you from such words

as a former archon, zhongli is a protector. he protected the land he loves, and therefore, he will protect you, the person he loves.

he's furious, no doubt about it. but to him, you come first. before anything, before everything. he has long given up his title as the god of contracts, but when it comes to you, he swears on his name and his life.

so he grips your wrist, giving that good-for-nothing scum a forced smile and polite goodbye before walking off, your hand in his.

zhongli can tolerate disrespect, in fact, he finds it amusing if it is directed towards himself. but the look on your face as you seemed to crawl under your appearance was enough of an indicator that you, the light of his life, was not okay.

zhongli hates it. he hates that look of hurt on your face and he hates the way he's powerless in situations like these. if it were possible, he'd cradle you in his arms like a wingless bird and tell you it's alright, it's okay, you're going to be fine.

but he can't. he knows you won't listen, and he knows those hateful comments won't stop.

"[name]," zhongli speaks quietly, his voice rumbling like the sea lapping against the shore. he closes the door of your shared abode behind him. here, there is just the two of you, a safe haven for all those who need it.

"please, please don't listen to them. they don't know what they're talking about."

his voice wavers, and he pulls you close. he trembles, yet no tears are shed.

he's angry, but sad. he's frustrated, but calm. he's everything and nothing, powerless yet powerful.

this feeling is complicated, and in his many years of life, he has never felt like this. such seething rage, like a tsunami building up. it's a domino effect, he thinks. whatever happens to you happens to him.

he cradles you, but not like a wingless bird. he cradles you like an injured warrior, a war hero, even.

"i am sorry i could not do anything to help you..." he whispers once he thinks you're asleep.

zhongli hums mindless tunes and tells you plenty of stories. comfort does not have to come with retaliation, and neither does it need fluffy heartfelt words.

comfort, to zhongli, is being there. so when you wake up with those puffy eyes, he will be waiting for you with a cold washcloth and herbal tea.

zhongli is there. he is unmovable, like stone. he is there for you, and will always be.

kazuha has never been one for violence of any kind

to him, wielding a blade is meant strictly for saving, not slaying. he is gentle like a lake, yet deadly like a river. one misstep and there will be no going back, especially during the rain

he prefers taking your mind off of the negative. the scent of the wind and the beats of your heart is especially somber, he notices. and so, though he was not there personally to witness insults being thrown, he is aware of the damage.

to him, you are like a paradise. a serene forest, where the deeper you go, the louder your heartbeat is.

today, though, there were no crickets chirping. no birds flying and no deers prancing. today, everything was silent.

kazuha appreciated silence, but not from you.

he treads carefully, worried you'll break at any moment. just for today, you are a delicate butterfly. he will hoist you up to fly, even if it is only for a few fleeting moments.

"Can't sleep?" Kazuha looks over at you kindly. One of his legs were sitting up while the other laid flat down. Leaning on the edge of the ship with just his hands to support him, you questioned the samurai's boldness.

"No," you mumbled. Even now, with the mask of the moon, you could not bear to look at the male. You felt like a stranger in your own skin, a hollow shell of your body.

"Come, sit next to me." He pats the empty space by his side. "I just came up with a new verse for a haiku. Would you like to hear it?"

You nod, and he smiles in return.

"You are filled with doubt," Kazuha says, looking up at the moon. You notice his ash-blonde hair is pearl white under the night, but that is not all that captures your attention.

"Of the magic inside you."

His gloved hand reaches for your shoulder, pulling you closer to him so your arms touch.

"But it's all I see."

This time, his voice dips into a whisper, a sound as light and fair as the wind.

He noticed your drooping eyes, and it is then he realizes that your cheeks are tear-stained.

"Goodnight, my love. Sweet dreams."

A butterfly lands on your forehead. You realize it's strangely soft for a fluttering insect.

he holds you close, afraid you'll succumb to the darkest depths of your mind

tracing mindless words into your skin, he peppers delicate kisses all across your face. he wonders if you'll feel better if he tells you how gorgeous you are to your face, or if you'd prefer subtle hints

the wind was especially harsh that day. don't be surprised if that person who insulted you is afraid to see your face, kazuha interfered just a little bit

- constellations

[airashisakura]

Pregnancy Diaries

Chapter 1 - Ball of Fur

Rating : General audience

Relationships : Uchiha Sasuke & Haruno Sakura

Summary : Sasuke wakes up one fine morning and finds Sakura missing.

FFN Ao3

This lovely art was a birthday gift from @something-like-air Also thanks to @ayuumaku for drawing this cute and beautiful art💖

The light peeking through the curtains of the rented room stirred the raven haired shinobi out from his slumber. He groaned and refused to get up from half-awake state as his lone hand traveled to the other side of the bed to clutch his wife and hide his face in the nook of her shoulder.

Every morning he inhaled her saccharine scent that invigorated him to face a new day. The day itself was bright and sunny, just like her smile. It had become a habit for Sasuke to snuggle before all his senses kicked in to continue for the coming day. But today, his hands were kissed good morning by an empty sheet. He sprang up from his sleepy state, partly bewildered and partly scared.

After Sakura became part of his journey, they had been camping mostly under open skies and after regular intervals they would settle in at an inn - to refill their basic supplies and to indulge in intimate acts after they set out again. But this morning routine was never missed. Even in woods and in unknown terrains, Sasuke somehow made sure to indulge himself in this pleasure. And now back from a few weeks, they'd been sleeping in warm bed and futons more often. It had become crucial too! Although Sakura didn't mind and persuaded Sasuke not to, Sasuke couldn't stop fretting over spending nights in the middle of nowhere when his wife was about 9 weeks pregnant and combating early symptoms of pregnancy like unexplainable tiredness, random headaches, and unusual abdominal cramps and backaches.

And here he is... His pregnant wife was missing from the bed. His concern about her health pushed him out of his torpid state. He knocked on the door of the washroom since her morning sickness was getting worse day by day. Sakura wasn't there either. And now missing from the room they stayed at the night with no note of her leaving abruptly. Sasuke tried sensing her chakra, but it was of no use. It brought two possibilities in his mind - either she had some urgent errands to run in the village, or she was in trouble. Uchiha Sasuke had never felt his fingers running cold, but he was confident that if it had been the latter one, Sakura would have left some clues. He trusted his wife's skills and intellect. He dressed up quickly in his full shinobi attire, and he rushed outside to inspect more.

Sasuke was planning to look thoroughly around the whole village. He knew very well that Sakura could take care of anyone who might try to hurt her, but her current condition worried him. He was about to leave the inn when he considered asking about her whereabouts at the reception desk, where an old lady sat sipping tea, complaining about her old-age.

Sasuke furrowed his brow at the thought of initiating a conversation with people. That was something Sakura was good at, and she usually took the responsibility wherever they went. Well, Damn you Sakura!

"Excuse me?" Sasuke tapped on the counter to get the lady's attention.

The lady looked suspiciously at him from above the rim of her round glasses.

"Have you seen a woman around my age?" Sasuke was trying to be more distinctive while describing his wife. "Pink hair and green eyes."

The suspicion in the lady's face grew dark. "What business do you have with her?" She retorted back.

What! I was with her when we checked in yesterday! Sasuke let out a frustrated sigh. "I am her husband."

"Oh?" The woman began to complain again about her old age and regressing memory.

Sasuke was losing it now. He had no idea where Sakura was or what even happened to her! He was regretting this useless interaction when the lady screeched at top of her voice.

"Sakura-chan is so good and beautiful."

Sasuke raised his eyebrows, but more and more anger built up as the lady hadn't told if she had seen his wife or not!

"Come with me, boy." The old lady got off from the seat as she muttered and cursed about her backache.

Sasuke bluntly followed her with his usual aloof expression. The old lady started walking towards the stairs. Sasuke was perplexed to find out that Sakura was still somewhere in the inn, yet relieved as he ticked off all the dangerous possibilities he'd been able to conjure. They crossed the first floor where their allotted room was, then she took the stairs to the second floor. The old lady's sluggish movements and the beats of her walking stick against the wooden stairs were testing his patience.

This is terrible, Sasuke cursed inwardly as he realized how impatient he could grow when he couldn't feel Sakura's skin or her chakra. Although the latter wasn't Sakura's fault, he was one to suggest hiding their chakras after she got pregnant to prevent any enemy ambush.

Finally, Sasuke's patience was rewarded when the old lady pointed towards her. Sakura was sitting cross-legged on the floor in the balcony of an unrented room. She was in her regular civilian dress, carrying the Uchiha sigil at her back. The very evidence that Sasuke had rebuilt his family. But the scars of losing it all over were still fresh after all these years.

Yesterday, when they had checked in, they'd been asked to rent this room, but Sakura dismissed the offer since having an attached balcony would have added extra charges.

But what business does she have here!

"You're really lucky. Take good care of her."The old lady smiled with the few teeth she had.

Sasuke nodded gratefully before the lady walked away, leaving them alone.

Sasuke walked towards her. As he scooted near her, he saw Sakura. Her dilated pupils were beautifully set within her orbs, plump pink lips parted in astonishment, her cheeks resting on her palms with curiosity even rivaling that of a child. Sasuke's gaze followed with her to the source of her amazement.

A cat? He noticed the cat had an abnormally large belly. Now, he was done with deducing things!

"Sakura?"

"This cat is pregnant!"Sakura spoke with a little thrill in her voice.

"What are you doing here? And why didn't you leave a note?" His frustration came upon her, but he accused himself of being insensitive when Sakura turned to face him with a small pout forming on her lips.

Has she become more beautiful? Sasuke's heart thumped in his chest.

"Sorry, Sasuke-kun. I felt nauseous so I got out of bed and then I heard this poor thing yowling."She pointed towards the cat. She carefully patted on the female feline's round distended belly and continued, "I couldn't find out then from where the sound was coming. So I asked the old lady at reception about this in the morning and she brought me here. This cat might have somehow climbed up here but couldn't get down later."

Sasuke listened to her long explanation as he noticed she brought some food with her to feed the cat.

"And a note?"

"Well, I forgot to write one." She sheepishly admitted, scratching the back of her neck.

Sasuke glared at her. Sakura made her puppy face to cool down his wrath. Nevertheless, he gave up on his anger and sat beside her.

Sakura got again into her business of observing and caressing the cat. Sasuke noticed every feature of her alluring face that twinkled with happiness as she explained that the cat was going to deliver in a day or two. And other things he ignored, as usual, when he stared at her.

"Sasuke-kun, did you see that?" Sakura's voice spiked in excitement again, bringing Sasuke from his wandering state. He was reluctant to remove his eyes from her, but she coaxed him to look at the cat.

"See?" Sakura merrily pointed to a part of the cat's belly, which was momentarily raised by a little bump before leveling up again with the belly.

Sasuke literally had no idea what had just happened, but Sakura could make out by his face that he was scared like anything.

Sakura chuckled as she explained, "You see, one of the babies inside her kicked." And now her laugh diminished to a gentle smile settling on her lips as his cheeks turned crimson.

Sasuke's gaze followed towards her belly, which is still taut with no physical sign of new life sprouting inside her. But he remembered Sakura telling him that in the coming months it was going to expand and would be more visible.

Sakura held him by his wrist and placed his palm on her lower abdomen. "You know, this little one will also move and kick from the coming months." The shade of her cheeks deepened and Sasuke gawked.

"Would that hurt?" Sasuke asked her.

Sakura giggled. "Sometimes, it would. It depends on the baby's position in the womb." She explained as well as she could in medical terms. The perks of being a medic-nin!

"But it would be great to feel the baby move," she sighed dreamily.

It was still difficult for him to imagine that months later he would be a father. An unknown relationship that would come to existence - a new member of his family. This reminded him of the family he once had. He once thought nothing could revive the feelings of the family that he lost, yet here he was with the one who would gift him a new life. A new life carrying both of their parts.

"Ne Sasuke-kun, can we stay for a few more days till I see her kittens?" She understood that she accompanied Sasuke in his journey, promising that she wouldn't be a reason to halt him, but the newly surging maternal hormones urged her to.

"Aah," he paused and added, "We will shift to this room."

"Eh? Sasuke-kun, you don't…" Before she could complete her sentence, Sasuke pulled her closer and kissed gently on her forehead.

Sakura adjusted her position as she wrapped her arms around his torso and rested her head on his chest as Sasuke dipped his head in the crook of her neck, enjoying the closeness that he had missed that morning.

*******

Again, after two mornings, Sasuke found himself in bed alone when he woke up, but he knew now where Sakura was. He lazily dragged himself to the balcony where Sakura was seated on the floor. Sasuke sat beside her, looking towards the new wooly creatures, snuggling close to their mother. The cat had delivered a litter of kittens a day before and she was now busy in feeding her newborns.

After the cat was done, Sakura patted her and set a kitten on her lap. She scratched the head of the little being with fingers while she said, "I won't hold you here any longer. The kittens are well, so we can move now."

But something caught Sasuke's attention. He looked carefully towards the kitten that was on Sakura's lap. A pair of innocent emerald eyes stared back at him. Its body was covered with white fur except the head, which had shining black fur. Sasuke felt unexpected familiarity within that unfamiliar creature.

Could it be? Sasuke thought. An Uchiha with green eyes?

"Sasuke-kun?" Sakura nudged him out of his thoughts.

Sasuke blinked back and responded, "Aah."

Yes to Sakura's question and a yes to his own thought. He didn't think it wouldn be bad if his child got Sakura's eyes.

Sakura gave him a questioning look. Sasuke tapped on her forehead and stood up, saying, "Let's get going then."

Sakura blushed at his gesture.

She ruffled the mama cat's fur, earning a purr from her. Sasuke lent his hand as Sakura carefully got off from the floor, the other hand resting on her belly.

Sakura flinched in pain as she stood. "Ouch, my back hurts," she whined, rubbing her lower back.

"Hn. Just like that old lady."

Sakura narrowed her eyes on her insult, but she laughed it off.

Never had either of them thought someone's arrival could provide them with extra happiness they had never asked for!

Chapter 2

[minty-mumbles]

Sunkissed Scales

Summary: The last thing Time expected to do today was meet a Siren that got caught up in the fishing nets. Unfortunately for him, that was exactly what happened.

Or

I make a Pirate AU, and Wind is literally the only character who isn't a pirate. I live for chaos.

Read it on AO3 here

~~~

Time was used to loud commotions on his ship. His small crew of seven were as good as family, but goddess, could their arguments be loud sometimes. Normally, the noise went away quickly.

Conflict didn’t tend to linger, and even those who held the most animosity for each other, like Legend and Warriors, knew better than to let a grudge stand. Out at sea, there was nowhere to go to escape each other. On top of that, sailing was not easy. It could be dangerous at times. They needed to be able to work together like a well oiled machine at a moments’ notice.

Even if a big argument did crop up, Time was usually confident that his second mate, Twilight, would be able to sort them out. The man was good at calming hot tempers and staying the hands of those who would draw weapons.

But Twilight’s skills with negotiation were rarely needed, like Time said. True arguments are rare.

So when screaming broke out above deck, Time knew he should probably be concerned. He had been in his cabin, reading a letter from his wife that he had picked up at the last port. He had just gotten through the first page of the letter when a shriek rang out. Time waited for a moment to see if Twilight or even Warriors would be able to smooth the situation over.

Unfortunately for his good mood, the shrieking did not go away.

And they did not sound like happy shrieks.

Several loud voices joined in the commotion. Time couldn’t pick out individual words, or even who specifically was yelling, but the panic and anger in the voices was clear.

Okay, this was sounding a lot less like there was an argument, or like it was just the boys having fun and messing around. It was starting to sound a lot more like someone was hurt.

Time threw down his letter, and swiftly exited the room.

When he reached the deck, chaos awaited him. Twilight and Warriors were indeed trying to calm down their fellow crewmates. They weren’t being overly successful. Four had squirreled himself away up the rigging. He seemed to be content to watch the disarray from a safe distance, where he wasn’t likely to be trampled. Wild was right next to him, munching on an apple, enjoying the chaos. (Time really needed to talk to him about where he kept getting apples in the middle of the ocean.)

And there in the center of it all were Legend, Sky, and Hyrule. Legend was yelling, flushed with anger in a way Time had never seen from him before. Sky and Hyrule were both standing protectively in front of the fishing net, which was hanging above the deck. They were seemingly shielding it from the irate veteran.

However, what drew his eye, or rather, his ear, immediately was none of that chaos. It was the screaming coming from said net.

Time paused, taking a moment to assess the situation before rushing in. Dealing with this would take a delicate touch.

Curled up in the net, currently screeching his head off, was a Siren.

Sirens were infamous creatures of the sea. There were plenty of myths and legends surrounding their kind, but most sailors could agree that actually seeing one was usually a bad sign. Their voices were powerful, and when they put their minds to it, their songs could enchant sailors into dreams filled with their victim’s deepest desire, so they would never wish to leave.

Time knew that most of his crew had never seen a Siren before. They had talked about it, though. Some of the crew, including Wild, Four, Warriors, Hyrule, and Twilight, had neutral opinions regarding the creatures. None of them had met one before, so had no reason to form opinions, besides being generally wary.

Sky was one of those that adhered to the old belief that Sirens were creatures sent by the Goddess Hylia to look after seas, much like she had sent the Koroks to tend to the forests of Hyrule.

Legend, however, had remained silent, giving off such angry energy that no one had dared to ask him his opinion on the subject, and the conversation moved on quickly. Time suspected he had had a bad encounter with a siren before. A very bad one, that he had not moved on from.

Time had not contributed to that particular conversion, and he couldn’t blame Legend for his sullenness on the topic, not when he himself had been much the same when he was younger.

Time strode forward quickly, calling for peace and for those quarreling to cease, just for a moment. They obeyed. Four and Wild came down from the rigging, with Warriors and Twilight backing off. Hyrule nervously shifted away from where he was standing.

Legend was reluctant to back down until Time put a calming hand on his shoulder. Sky didn’t move from where he was standing protectively in front of the net until Legend did, but eventually, everyone was relatively calm. Even the Siren had quieted down, staring intently around at all of them. His eyes gleamed, tracking all of their movements carefully, but refusing to meet any of their eyes.

Time took a second to assess the Siren in turn, taking in his appearance. He looked young, although perhaps he was entering he teen years. He was much too small to be fully grown, at any rate.

There was no way someone could mistake this creature as anything other than a Siren. For the chest up, he looked mostly Hylian, save for the fins sprouting from the side of his head, which were a bit too big for him. He probably needed to grow into them.

He was blonde, which wasn’t uncommon in Hyrule. Most of Time’s own crew had blond hair, but this siren’s locks put them all to shame. Even wet, the color was not dulled, and it gleamed like gold under the midday sun. The boy had sunkissed tan skin, from spending his life in the shallows that that they were currently sailing through. For the most part, he looked like any boy you might see in a seaside town.

However, his chest was where that illusion got shattered. Along his ribs, gills were pressed firmly closed against the salty air. Creeping along the sides of his torso, following the lines of his gills, the Siren’s scales glimmered blue in the sun, occasionally flashing an iridescent green. At the Siren’s waist, the scales wrapped completely around his body, and where legs would be on any normal Hylian, instead there was a long powerful tail.

At first glance, Time thought his scales were rippled with white, but upon closer inspection, he could see that the white stripes were actually scars. Many of them, covering not only his tail, but also his torso. There was even a rather large one criss crossing over his gills, and several small nicks on his ear fins.

He wore very little, only an orange sash wrapped around his hips, and a simple necklace with a chunk of pink coral on it. A pair of binoculars were attached to his sash.

The most concerning thing was the blood dripping from him onto the deck. For a moment, Time wondered if Legend had gotten to the creature before Sky or Hyrule could stop him. But he could see that it was the net causing him harm. It was wrapped around his tail, cutting into his fins.

Time wanted to groan and bury his face in his hands. Thankfully, he resisted the urge. He needed to show a calm face for his crew. First thing to sort out…

He turned to Legend, who was still silently seething under Time’s hand. “What happened?” His tone wasn’t demanding, but it was obvious it wasn’t a request. Legend didn’t seem reluctant to tell him though.

“I was just hauling up the net, and that,” he shot a glare at the Siren, who met his gaze steadily, “was trapped in the net. I was trying to take care of the problem before he could kill us all, but someone stopped me.” Here, he shot a look of ire at Sky and Hyrule.

Before Time could respond to that, Sky snapped back. “You can’t just kill him. He’s a creation of the goddess. If we do, she might cast divine judgment on us. We might as well release him. We’re taking a risk either way.”

Hyrule also offered their own opinion. “You can't just attack him because he could kill us, Legend. If you acted that way all the time, you would have to kill all of us.” Time raised an eyebrow in surprise at that. Hyrule rarely went against anything Legend said, even if they disagreed with their mentor, simply out of respect. But, Time supposed, Hyrule’s fairy blood made them familiar with people wanting to kill them just for their ancestry.

Time considered, but ultimately knew he would not condemn this boy to death because of Legend’s hatred of Sirens.

“Cut him down.” Time demanded, drawing his knife and handing it off to Hyrule. He kept his watchful eye on the young siren. He may be willing to set him free, but he would not tolerate him trying to hurt one of his crew.

Legend held out an arm to stop Hyrule before they could draw close to the creature. “That,” Legend hissed, “is a Siren. He could ensnare us all in his spell at any time, and none of us would be able to do anything about it.” True anger and hurt was seeping into his tone now, “He could trap us in illusions, show us our deepest desires, and none of us would even know until we wake up. If we wake up.”

Time let Legend say his piece, but ultimately, as Captain, he had final say. “And yet, he hasn’t done so. I have dealt with sirens before,” This earned him shocked looks from his entire crew, which he ignored. “It is better to cut him free rather than risk being cursed. Sirens do not just lull people to sleep with songs of desire. They can also command the sea, and they only get more powerful as they age. This one probably doesn't pose much of a threat to us. But I’d bet anything his guardian will.”

Time nodded at Hyrule. “Do it.”

Hyrule nodded, keeping an eye on the trussed up siren in the net as they stepped forward. The Siren, his eyes wide and defiant, watched Hyrule step forwards. When he saw the knife the sailor held, the Siren started thrashing.

Time sighed. He had sent Hyrule to do the job of cutting the siren free because they were the least intimidating person in the entire crew. Hyrule was also very unassuming, unlike many on Time’s small crew. They were the least likely to frighten the young siren right away.

(Well, maybe Hyrule wasn’t the least physically intimidating, thought Time, with a quick glance in the smithy’s direction. But, well... to be honest, Time wasn’t even sure the Smithy was even tall enough to do the job of cutting the Siren free.)

On top of that, Hyrule always seemed to give off a calming energy. This, Time knew, was due to their fairy heritage. He wasn’t sure if the calming effect would work on the Siren, as he was a magical creature himself, but every advantage would help them.

Unfortunately, although the Siren had been relatively calm at first sight of Hyrule approaching, the sight of the knife they held had pushed him into panic.

Hyrule shakily wiped their sweaty palms on their pants, and set to work.

It was slow going. Hyrule was obviously skittish, and fearful of the creature. They startled back at every movement he made. Thankfully, the Siren had stopped thrashing around once he realized that Hyrule was indeed setting him free, and was not gutting him with the knife they carried.

After a few minutes, with only minimal progress made, Time relented, and motioned Warriors forward to help Hyrule. With the two of them working together, it was only a few minutes before the net was cut and the Siren slithered to the floor.

He didn’t immediately throw himself over the side of the ship, which Time didn’t know whether to be thankful for or not.

On one hand, if the Siren left now, he would probably be grateful to the crew for setting him free and not killing him, and that would be that. No curses involved.

On the other hand, the boy was still bleeding. Already a puddle was forming under him on deck. He needed medical attention.

Hyrule, seeing the same, took a tentative step forward. He was obviously still a little shaken by the creature. (Despite being magical themself, Hyrule rarely encountered magical creatures besides other fairies that hadn’t automatically tried to kill them. Time could understand their hesitation.) They had put aside their discomfort at the sight of someone in need of help, the healer in them overriding their caution.

Instead of Legend, it was Time who stopped them this time. “Wait. Let me go first.”

“Uhhh, are you sure that's a good idea?” Warriors cautioned. ”You can be kind of intimidating on a good day. We don’t want him to panic. Even more.”

Time tilted his head to show he heard, but started forward anyways. The Siren hissed at his approach, scrambling back against the railings, Time could see now that the wounds on his tail were deep. The Siren likely wouldn’t be able to swim without great discomfort or pain for a good while. This was worse than Time thought.

As Time drew closer, the Siren flared his fins, baring his unnaturally long teeth. A guttural hiss escaped him, but Time didn't back down.

He kept an even pace, drawing closer slowly.

Time could see the moment the Siren actually got a good look at his face, and laid eyes on the markings there. His demeanor immediately went from fearful and defiant to eager and astonished. A single word slipped out of his mouth, spoken in the guttural songs of the deep.

“Kin.”

And indeed, the Siren was right. The blue V on his forehead marked him as a Siren-Friend. And the red marks under his eye, the ones he saw reflected back at him from the cheek of the young guppy, marked Time as good as kin to him.

While the Siren examined Time’s face, Time took the time to do the same. In the tattoos on his body, Time could read the status of this child. Humans usually would not be privy to the markings’ meanings. Humans also should not usually be able to innately understand Tempest Tongue, the language of Sirens.

Most humans, however, had not been possessed by the spirit of an ancient Siren that was trapped forever more inside a mask.

Time was just special like that.

This guppy was remarkably well decorated for one his age. Normally a Siren his age would only have their family markings, but this one had much more than that. Not that Time should be surprised. This Siren was descended from the very same, immensely powerful, Siren that Time himself had known.

The two red marks under his eye showed this affiliation. The rest of his family would have the same mark. Around his left wrist were tattooed thick black bands, the marks of a warrior. They announced to the world that this boy had bested enemies more powerful and fearsome than him, and that he was skilled in combat.

Up that same arm, symbols speaking of his deeds were placed. There was an hourglass on his shoulder. The gold sand inside the tattoo was slowly trickling downwards. Time was shocked to see the tattoo moving, but shook it off. That the Siren’s tattoos were moving was not the most shocking thing he’d seen today. Siren’s were proficient in magic, after all. Lower down on the boy’s arm, some sort of wand was pictured, with multicolored music notes slowly floating around it.

The crest of Hylia featured prominently across the Siren’s chest, the Triforce gleaming gold. This proclaimed the wearer’s loyalty to the Goddess, and such a tattoo wasn’t only worn by Sirens. Many of Time’s crew wore similar marks on their own bodies. Underneath that, the symbol of the Goddess Farore was worn proudly, in the traditional green.

Along with the permanent marks on him, he had doodles swirled around his back, drawn with a water resistant paint. Little pictures of fish and seagulls littered his back, while a line of hermit crabs marched down the boy’s right arm. The lines were unsteady, obviously drawn by a young child’s hand, even younger than the child before them.

Time’s eyes wandered back to the Siren’s, and was shocked to see that, for the first time, the boy would meet his eyes. He seemed to be pleased with what he had found in his own examination of Time, and was much more relaxed.

The Siren breathed out a relieved sigh. The only thing he did before slumping into Time’s arms, unconscious, was to breathe out the same word from earlier, this time in common Hylian.

“Kin.”

~~~

Several months later, Time once again heard screaming from above deck.

It sounded much less panicked than those screams half a year later. He stood and stretched out his legs. He had been plotting their new course for free hours now, and might as well take a break. He strolled out of the room.

Up on the deck, the scene he was met with was reminiscent of the one he had found the day they met Wind.

Most of the crew had paused in their work to take in the spectacle. Legend was the one screaming, but there was no true anger in his gaze this time. Hyrule was again trying to hold him back, but was made weak by the laughter they couldn’t hold back.

And there, draped over the railing of the ship, was the newest addition to the crew.

(Well, Time thought privately, it was less like he was an addition, and more like he had just refused to leave the ship for long, even once he was healed.)

Taking in the veteran’s soaked appearance, it was obvious what had happened, even if Legend's screeches of “If you splash me one more time, I’m going to find a way to drown you, gills be damned!” didn’t tip him off.

He smiled, leaning against the mast of the ship. He took an apple from Wild, content to eat it and watch the show.

[comfyswitcherblanketfort]

Hello, sweetheart! I have a prompt for you ❤️ Geralt has chronic pains since the mutations. Sometimes he can't get up, because everything hurts so much. Sometimes he does not eat for days (weeks...), because he cannot go out hunting. As the years have passed, he has managed to mask the pain on his face. Nobody needs to know. His brothers have already looked for a cure, but the potions only ease the pain for a few hours. +

+ When Jaskier started following the witcher on the path, whenever the pain became unbearable, Geralt told him that he had picked up a contract. A contract that would perhaps take days. And then he went into the forest as far away as possible, so that no one would be able to hear his cries of pain.+

+Jaskier knew he was lying. But he just didn't know what he was lying about. Until one day, tired of this situation (he's his best friend, for God's sake!), Jaskier decides to go after Geralt and find out what's going on. You can change anything you want ❤️

BAAAAAAABBBBEEEE 

listen I lived the chronic pain life for a while and if someone would have just told me to shut the fuck up and confront the problem things would have been WAY easier lmao 

Warnings: Lots of swearing. ye ole self-depreciation. chronic pain.

__________

His back had ached for the last six decades; this sort of twisting torment was nothing new. His second round of trials had induced horrible spasms and, according to Vessimir, Geralt had broken the restraints usually used for young witchers and damn near writhed off the table before the sorcerers had restrained him. He hadn’t had a good night’s sleep in sixty years because of it.

Eskel and Lambert had sourced out different potions and spells over the years, sometimes putting him under Axi just so he can sleep despite his body, but with the extra mutations came heightened adaptability. If he took any potion too frequently it stopped working, used any spell too often it would barely touch him. While this made his job much easier, and much safer, he was in a never-ending nightmare of shooting and radiating stabbing pain emanating from various points in his spine. It was worse than any stab wound or monster bite he’d ever endured on the bad days, a dull throb on the good days. 

Traveling with Jaskier was surprisingly helpful in this aspect. He made it easier to get rooms with real beds and didn’t care that Geralt’s limbs draped over him in the only comfortable sleeping position he could find most nights. He insisted on getting Geralt hot baths he would never be offered on his own and once blackmailed someone into letting Geralt into a sauna. Of course, Geralt had never told him, there was no point, but having an advocate when he couldn’t, or wouldn’t, defend himself was nice. 

However, as with most things in Geralt’s life, things eventually went to shit. A fall off a two-story roof chasing a vampire the week before had depleted the few potions Eskel had scrounged up for him last they spoke and, bed or no bed, there was no way Geralt could stay with the bard and pretend he was fine. The longer he tried the more explosive his behavior, and well that wasn’t fair was it?

He had gotten up early, before the pain had time to settle in the pit of his stomach and make him nauseous, to head off to the foothills. Giving Jaskier a lie about a contract a town over and meeting up later, he headed to collect Roach and disappear. 

Mounting was a miserable affair, even with a hay bail to help him up. His leg nearly gave out from what felt like one of Yennefer’s electric shocks running the length of the limb before he had the bulk of his weight over the saddle. But once he was on, he was relatively fine. Not trotting fine, but comfortable enough to go at a steady pace out of town without groaning or screwing up his face in agony. It wouldn’t do to scare the townsfolk if he wanted to come back and collect his bard. 

He let Roach meander as far as she wanted off the road running parallel to a stream, letting her choose where they’d be camping for the night once they were far enough from civilization. 

He hated doing this, letting his guard down and in the wilderness no less, but he was holding himself upright on the pommel by the time Roach found a sandy bank next to the stream. He practically fell out of the saddle, unbuckling the girth and giving its bulk just enough of a tug to let it fall off the mare’s back. Even the little effort put into untacking was agony, but he needed his bedroll off the saddle and Roach needed a break. He collected the wood he would need for a fire before he let himself rest, knowing that as soon as he stopped moving the muscles would tighten and cramp up, making it impossible to move until morning. 

He was peeling his shirt off ever so gingerly when he heard a twig snap. Dropping the garment back over his shoulders he gingerly turned to peer into the woods in the sound’s direction. If something or someone came upon him now he was at their mercy unless he could muster enough energy for a sign. 

“A contract, huh?” Jaskier stepped out of the treeline with his arms crossed and a surprisingly parental look of disappointment on his face.

Geralt relaxed a little, plastering the mask of calm on his face as he got back to tugging his shirt over his head, “You followed me?”

Jaskier deflated, dropping his bag and lute next to Roach’s tack as he moved to help Geralt out of his clothes, “I knew you were hiding something from me, but this? Geralt? How long have you been injured?”

The witcher laughed, wincing at the dull ache through his entire torso from the previous effort of keeping himself in the saddle, “Half a century? Give or take.”

“What?” Jaskier sounded offended, why was he offended?

Geralt just grunted, clenching his jaw to keep from yelling as he stood and waded into the stream of snowmelt. All the air left his lungs when he lowered himself into the freezing water, but as it lapped over his back and sometimes even his shoulders he felt a small bit of relief. Being able to lean back a bit and be supported by the current was almost intoxicating after all his muscles had nearly turned to stone over the course of the week.

Jaskier was now standing at the bank with his arms crossed and a look of fury on his face, “I’m your best fucking friend- don’t look at me like that we’re using the ‘f’ word today- and you tried to hide a debilitating long-term injury? Geralt what the fuck?”

“I didn’t want to bother you.” Geralt huffed, doing his best not to get angry. He hurt and he was vulnerable and Jaskier was using the ‘f’ word and getting his hopes up.

“Oh shove it up your arse. You make everything else my problem, why not this?” Jaskier was on the verge of yelling and Geralt still couldn’t figure out why. 

Geralt stared forward in silence, calmly noting his hands shaking from the cold, or maybe it was the pain, he didn’t really know. 

Jaskier swore and turned to rummage through their things, arranging and rearranging things as he waited for Geralt to get out. 

However, Geralt didn’t want to get out. He wanted to be left alone to be miserable in peace. He wanted to have one fucking day where he didn’t have shooting pain running through most of his body. Long ago he’d given up hope of a day free of pain, now he just wished for an aching sensation rather than this bullshit. He also found he was liking the water. It wasn't as cold as it first was and his breath was coming easier. 

Jaskier rolled up his trousers and waded out to the middle of the stream where he sat, “C’mon Geralt, you can’t stay here all night. You’ll die.”

Geralt frowned up at him, “I like it in here. Hurts less.”

“Dumb Fuck, you’re turning blue. Out. Now.” Jaskier held a hand out and Geralt found raising his arm was nearly impossible. He got it about halfway to the bard’s palm before he stalled out, shaking and staring at his hand in horror. 

“I- Jask I can’t-”

Jaskier sighed, “You’re damn near hypothermic, here.” He reached down and hauled the witcher out of the stream, ignoring his grunts of pain as he walked him back to the fire he’d started. Jaskier went about stripping his soaked pants off, toweling him off with his old shirt, and redressing him all while glaring at him. Jaskier made him sip some boiled water before he bundled the both of them in one bedroll, wrapping himself around the still shivering witcher as completely as possible.

“Th-thank you.” Geralt gasped as Jaskier angrily shoved his arm beneath Geralt’s lower back, the warmth alone was lovely but something about the way his spine laid over the extra bulk was even better.

“You’re welcome.” Jaskier growled, head tucked into Geralt’s chest, “I’m still furious with you. It’s been over a decade and you didn’t think to tell me?” 

Geralt swallowed back tears as he felt some of the tension ease in his back, “No one else really cares…”

Jaskier tilted his chin up to look at the witcher like he was sprouting a horn out of his forehead, “The fuck do you think I’m doing here? You think I enjoy being run out of towns and almost dying every other day? Shit, Geralt, you’re smart but sometimes you’re fucking thick.”

If it wouldn’t have hurt Geralt would have playfully smacked his shoulder, but moving any part of his body was a risk at the moment, “Thought you liked the adventure.”

“No, dumbass. I care about you. A lot.” Jaskier settled his head back down over Geralt’s chest, “In the morning I’m taking you to a healer. Or a sorcerer or mage or anyone who will give us answers.”

“Julek…”

“Shut the fuck up and sleep. Cute nicknames won’t get you out of this one. I’m still furious.”

[vagabondreamer]

After the Fall (5)

Pairing: Lucifer x Angel! Fem! MC

Word Count: 2.3k

Series Summary: Angel! Fem! MC is part of an exchange program that sends her to the Devildom for a year.

Chapter Summary: MC finds out what Lucifer's been hiding.

CW: panic attacks, attempted murder, PTSD

Author’s Note: Sorry it's been a hot minute; school has been keeping me busy.

***

Your fingers felt like they were going to fall off and your eyes burned from not blinking. The room was so dark you weren’t sure how long you had been in here. The bright screen was your only source of light, and it was no wonder Levi was so pale. You looked over at him, he was hunched over his controller, his eyes glued to the tv.

“MC are you not even trying?” He exclaimed, a tint of anger in his voice. You looked back at the screen, a giant ‘K.O.’ flashing before your eyes.

“They don’t have these games back home.” This felt like your hundredth loss against him. “You’re just way too good.”

He blushed at the small compliment - not used to the praise. You looked at your DDD to see the time, it was already 3 in the morning.

“Geez! I need to get to bed.”

“Already?” He pouted, not wanting you to go to your room yet.

“Let’s do this again.”

“Fine.” He grumbled, but the small smile on his face was enough to show he wasn’t mad.

You said goodnight to him and his fish - you learned the name was Henry based off of his favorite fantasy novel - and walked out the door into the hallway. It was pitch black, you couldn’t see a thing. Standing still, you tried to let your eyes adjust to the darkness. Barely, you could see the railing of the stairs, and some decorative paintings on the wall. You started walking towards your room when you heard a small voice coming from far behind you. Didn’t Satan say this house was haunted? Surely, you thought he was just trying to scare you. Again, you started walking towards your room - hoping to not run into whatever was making that noise.

“I know you, I walked with you once upon a dream.”

The voice was stronger, more distinct sounding. You recognized that it was the same lullaby from a week ago. You recalled that there was a set of hidden stairs, that Lucifer forbade you from going up. Debating whether or not you should risk it, you turned around and headed down the hall. The darkness didn’t help, you couldn’t remember how to get to those stairs - last time, you had found it by chance.

“And I know it's true that visions are seldom all they seem.”

There it was again! You followed the sound, trusting your ears rather than your sight. It was strange how clear the voice was, considering that you had to walk through several doors and halls to get to the base of the stairs.

“But if I know you, I know what you’ll do.”

If Lucifer ever found out - no - he would never find out. And if he did? So, what. You were tired of obeying him - who was he to you? A nobody. Slowly, you ascended up the spiral staircase. The voice was masculine, yet soft, almost sleepy sounding.

“You'll love me at once, the way you did once upon a dream.”

Reaching the top of the stairs, you see a door that is barred up. Peering in, you see a man laying down, lazily humming the rest of the tune. His head turns, feeling your presence.

“Hmph. They went along with the exchange program, I see.”

His aura was strong - purple and luminous - he was a powerful demon. He must’ve read yours as well.

“Who are you?”

“Belphegor. Who are you?”

“MC. What are you doing here?”

“Lucifer locked me up.” You couldn’t believe what you were hearing - you absolutely knew Lucifer was mean, but to lock up his own family? That was beyond evil. “You have to help me out of here.”

You took a step back from the bars, taking a moment to think about the situation you landed yourself in. It was no wonder Lucifer didn’t want you up here, but was it justified? From what you had gathered, he was mean but not without reason, right? He insulted you, but only because you were acting like a brat. He was also the same man that saved you, and he was highly respected by Michael - even as a demon.

“Why did he lock you up?”

“I didn’t agree with the exchange program.”

Was that really the only reason? Something as simple as disagreeing could end up in imprisonment? Belphie must’ve seen the look on your face - a war raging inside your mind.

“He’s horrible, you know?” You looked up at him. “He locked up his own brother, and he dismissed Lilith’s death like it meant nothing!”

“Lilith.” You repeated to yourself. You were told she was the start of the Great Celestial War.

“Now that I think about it, I don’t remember you at all.” He eyed you carefully.

“I wasn’t created until after the war. I’m Lucifer’s replacement, basically.”

This statement caught his interest.

“So, you’re powerful; I think you can get through this magic.”

Touching the bars, you felt a powerful magic radiating off of the metal. Lucifer must’ve put a spell on the door, to ensure he’d never escape. He was right, you were a powerful angel, this shouldn’t be an issue, but you were still hesitant.

“What are you going to do once you’re out?”

“I just want to talk to him.” If that was really all he wanted to do then you were ready to let him out.

You closed your eyes, and took a deep breath in, hands still gripping the metal. It had been weeks since you last transformed into an angel, ever since your failure you had been hesitant to even try. Slowly, your white wings sprouted from your back and your magic flowed through your fingertips. The bars began to glow, and gradually disintegrated from existence. A smile spread across his face, and he stepped out for the first time in who knows how long. You transformed back to your normal state.

“Thank you.” He opened his arms, you gladly accepted his hug. You had begun to appreciate how touchy-feely most of the brothers were. His grip, however, was a bit too hard for your liking. You stopped hugging him back, this time placing your hands against his waist trying to push off - but his grip was relentless.

“What are you doing?” It was getting harder to breathe; your ribs felt like they were being crushed.

“I’m doing the world a favor, Lucifer’s replacement.”

He hadn’t bothered addressing you by your name - it suddenly clicked in your head. Lucifer was part of the blame for his sister’s death, and to him you were just another Lucifer in the making. You pushed him and tried to transform but you had exhausted yourself trying to break him out. The trauma from weeks ago was just beginning to heal, and now you were reliving it. You could hardly breathe, but now it was becoming even more erratic - you were having a panic attack.

“Please -” The words were barely coming out. “Lucifer.”

The room was spinning, and darkness crept in.

***

When you woke up, you were in an unfamiliar room. The bed was spacious, a huge chandelier hung down in the center, and soft music could be heard. You take a deep breath in - you notice the smell - notes of sandalwood wafting in the air. Trying to sit up, a sharp pain erupts in your ribs. Glancing down, your torso is wrapped up - unexpectedly, the memories flash in your mind. You released Belphie, and he tried to kill you. How the hell did you make it?

“MC, you’re awake.” Lucifer walked in, holding a tray of food. “How are you feeling?”

His face held a concerned look, but he was hard to read. There’s no doubt he was upset, he told you not to go up the stairs and yet you disobeyed orders.

“Where’s Belphie?” Lucifer sighed, and put the tray down on the nightstand.

“Why’d you let him go?”

“Did you hurt him?”

The both of you were getting nowhere. Too many unanswered questions and so much distress, you couldn’t take it anymore. You moved to get out of bed, Lucifer tried to help but you slapped his hand away. Standing, you looked him straight in the eyes.

“What is going on here?” Lucifer stood his ground.

“You’re prying. This isn’t any of your business.”

“I almost died. I think it is my business.”

“You didn’t die twice because of me. A thank you would be nice.”

You couldn’t believe him.

“I didn’t ask you to save me.” That was a lie, and he knew it. Your eyes watered up. “I’m capable. You might not see it, Michael might not see it, but I know I am!”

You walked to the door before the tears could spill down your cheeks. You were tired of feeling weak in front of him.

“MC.” You stopped without turning around, waiting for him to continue. “I think you’re plenty capable, but I don’t regret helping you.”

Wiping the tears away, you turned to look at him. He was seated on his bed, elbows rested on his legs, looking down pensively. You walked to him, standing directly in front of his form. The sleeves on his dress shirt were rolled up, and the top buttons were undone revealing his collarbone. The locks of his hair were messy, like he had been consistently running his hands through it. Subconsciously, you raised your hand and began to smooth out his hair, putting each strand back in its rightful place. He looked up at you, curiously. His eyes were sunken, the darkness underneath visible to you from your proximity.

“I’m sorry," you whispered.

Ever since your arrival, you had become another burden to Lucifer. Before coming to the Devildom, you had a preconceived notion that he was the reincarnation of all things evil, but it didn’t take long to realize how complex the man in front of you really was. Your internal battle with yourself didn’t help, and you were taking it out on him. And now, with Belphie’s appearance, there’s no doubt in your mind that Lucifer would never forgive you.

“I just wish you’d understand I have your best interest at heart.”

“I guess it takes a near death experience to see that,” you joked. “Thanks. For both times.”

You fixed the last strand out of place, framing it against his temple. Your fingers lingered, tracing down to where his jaw curves. It was as if an electric current ran from him to you.

“You’re welcome. Both times.” He went to grab your hand, but you removed it yourself.

“Does everyone know what happened?”

“Yes. You’ve been out for a few days, and everything’s been taken care of.”

“Everything?”

“School, home, here. Everything.” He got up from his position, leaving you little time to take a step back, his chest is nearly touching yours. “I’m not letting you get hurt again.”

He placed his hand on your shoulder, and in that moment you felt so small. You vowed right there and then to be less of a burden to Lucifer. You had already caused so much damage, now you were going to make things right.

“Michael wants to speak to you.”

“What? You’ve spoken with Michael?” Oh, crap.

“No, Simeon has. Michael requested you take a brief trip back home after you wake up.”

“Oh.”

“I’ll open a portal, if you’re ready?”

“You can open a portal?”

“Yes, can’t you?”

“No…” Guess Michael decided you weren’t good enough for that ability. “I’m ready.”

Lucifer performed his spell, which allowed a little portal to open up. You thanked Lucifer once again, and stepped in; a bright, white light blinded you. The portal had transported you to right in front of Michael’s office. You gave two knocks before being called in.

“MC. Who knew it only took sending you to the Devildom for you to finally learn how to knock.” You laughed dryly. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I -”

“What happened?”

“Well -”

“Don’t answer. I already know.” Ah, so you were here to be reprimanded. “Why are you causing so much trouble? Did I not tell you that you represent the Celestial Realm?”

“Yes sir, but -”

“I don’t want to hear any excuses. It’s embarrassing that I even have to do this.” You bite your lip, too afraid to make him angrier. “You’re going to go down there and apologize to Lord Diavolo and Lucifer. And you’re going to stop causing trouble, do I make myself clear?”

You opted to nod your head, not trusting your own voice. As quick as you had gotten there, you were sent away just as quickly. The portal reopened back in Lucifer’s room, he was standing there waiting for your arrival. You wanted nothing more than to be alone.

“What did he say?”

“He said I need to apologize to you and Lord Diavolo, but can I please do that later? I just - I need to get out of here.”

“MC…” He reached out to you.

“No, I’m serious - I feel like I can’t breathe.” It was happening again. You could hear your own heartbeat in your ears, and you saw the room spinning. Why was this happening?

“MC!” Lucifer held the sides of your face. “Okay, you’re okay. Let’s get some fresh air.”

His words were going in one ear and straight out the other. He held you in his arms, and you could feel him moving, but your dizziness made it hard to decipher what was going on. It wasn’t until he sat down, you were still being held by him, that you became aware of your surroundings. Somewhere deep in the forest lay a small lake, and a singular bench. The air was fresh, and the serenity filled your soul.

“I come here when it feels like everything is falling apart.”

After the Fall Tag List @ptv-hades @everyday-girl9041-blog

[bbmyungho]

wager- joshua

member/group: joshua/seventeen

genre: fluff, hogwarts!au, hufflepuff!reader, slytherin!joshua, other members of svt thrown in for good measure :))

a/n: i saw @luvshuas posting about wanting to read hogwarts aus and i thought i’d write them one 🥺 i hope you like it, i love your blog!! (also, super sorry it took me so long to write and post 👉👈)

“Come on, we’re almost there!” Seungkwan ushered me through the halls, panting as I tried to fasten my tie properly around my neck while we rushed to get to potions in time. We practically drifted around the final corner, right in time to stumble into Snape on his way to close the classroom door.

“Oh, how nice of you to join us, Mr. Boo. You too, l/n.” He sneered at us as we entered the class, shuffling down under his outreached arm and seeing all of the seats next to each other filled. I looked at my friend like I’d just been issued a death sentence, his sympathetic gaze already meeting mine. “Oh, what a pity; you two decided to muck about while the rest of us actually bothered to show up on time so there are no seats left next to each other. Hmm.” Snape hummed in bemusement at our misfortune, beady eyes peering around the room before settling back on us.

“Seungkwan, you can join Mr. Yoon in the back, and y/n... you can join Mr. Hong over to your left there.”

I shuffled meekly over to my seat, barely able to look at the admittedly extremely attractive Slytherin boy smiling at me as I approached.

“Hi, I’m Josh.”

“y/n.” I smiled shyly, picking out my potions supplies and waiting for Snape to give us the go ahead to begin our brewing.

“Nice to meet you, y/n. Do you play quidditch?” Josh was laying his head down on his arms now, staring up at me with big doe eyes while I fought the urge to run away back to my comfortable Seungkwan.

“Uh, no. Do- you?”

“Yes, I’m the keeper.” He smiled up at me. “What do you do? Anything outside of classes?” He asked.

“I volunteer in the library sometimes. Keeping track of records and whatnot.” He nodded, presumably satisfied with my answer at last as he turned his attention to the professor now droning on about procedure. I took solace in these few moments of comfortable silence, exchanging a look with Seungkwan at the end of the mini lecture before Josh recalled my attention to him.

“I’ll go get the ingredients we need from the cabinet if you’ll start up with what we have here.” He suggested, reaching over to take the beakers from my side of the table. I caught a whiff of his cologne, fresh and sweet, like honeysuckle, making my cheeks heat up involuntarily at the close proximity to a boy I barely even knew.

“Yeah, sure.” I nodded, watching his back retreat before getting to work.

~

“Y/n!” I was pulled harshly back into reality from whatever daydream I’d been indulged in upon hearing my name, my heart clenching at the sight of some of the first year Hufflepuffs cornered by a Gryffindor boy: Marcus... something. I’d heard he was a bit of a troublemaker.

“Hey, what’s going on, guys?” I approached the group cautiously, the Gryffindor looking rather annoyed at my intrusion on his fun with my house’s first years. They looked like they were having anything but, one of the girls named Hannah bent over with her hands on her knees catching her breath. She looked like she’d just run a marathon, pretty much all of them did.

“We’re just playing a game.” He smiled, an unusual sneer more than anything; either way, it quickly disappeared as his eyes followed the Hufflepuff students away from the two of us. “Reckon you want in?”

Before I could react at all, he turned his wand on me, rushing something out before a loud pop sounded below me and I felt a sting in my leg. I hopped up on one foot, trying to dodge the firecrackers he’d manifested around my feet as I debated whether or not it was worth it to whip out my own wand and maybe turn him into a toad.

I didn’t have a chance before I heard a loud “D’Angelo!” shouted behind me, both of our heads whipping around to see Joshua and the Gryffindor prefect, Seungcheol, approaching; Seungcheol, usually quite smiley and known for being pretty “chill,” actually looked cross. “What exactly do you think you’re doing here?” He scolded. Marcus shoved his wand back into his robes, giving me a death glare before marching off with Seungcheol scolding him the whole way out of sight.

“Hey, you okay? What happened?” Josh’s gaze and tone were both gentle now, his bangs blowing close to his pretty brown eyes in the breeze.

“Yeah, I’m fine. He was picking on some of our first years, but I didn’t want to draw my wand on him or anything so... Uh, thanks for bringing Seungcheol over.” I said, dusting the embers of Marcus’s enchantment off of my legs.

“Oh no problem, we were just walking to the Great Hall. How are your kids?” He asked.

“They’re fine, I’m sure. I don’t know how long he’d been picking on them like that, but they probably just ran back to the common room or something.” I smiled at him, running a hand through my hair as I straightened. “I’m sorry I interrupted your trip to the Great Hall.”

“Don’t worry about it, we can always reconvene later,” he hesitated before adding, “would you maybe like to join me since I lost Cheol?”

I flushed scarlet at his words, quite caught off guard: sure, he was nice and all, but we weren’t really friends. The most I’d heard out of him until potions the other day was a little bit of conversation here and there between him and his friends in passing.

“Uh, actually, I think I’ll go check on the first years, make sure they’re okay. Thank you though.”

“Oh, isn’t the Hufflepuff common room in the kitchens? How about we just walk together til then; we’d be going the same direction, right?” He cocked his head and god if I didn’t think he was pretty before, now I thought he was adorable.

“Oh yeah. Right. Uh, in that case, sure.” I blushed deeper if possible, Josh holding out his hand to beckon me forward ahead of him.

~

“Who was that?” My friend, Momo, didn’t miss a beat in questioning me once the door to the common room closed behind us; we’d arrived at around the same time, and Joshua had bid us a quick farewell when he was sure I was back safe.

“Oh, his name’s Josh. We were paired up in potions the other day and I guess we’re sort of friends now?” I said, greeting Seungkwan with a simple pat to the head before making my way up to my dorm.

“Friends? That’s it? What was he doing here then?!”

“Relax, he just walked me back.” I began to fiddle with my hands as I tried to brush off Momo’s (loud) words, which were earning us a fair amount of attention from the quieter patrons of the common room. Although, I couldn’t quite settle the flutter of butterflies in my stomach or the comfortable heat rushing to my cheeks. 

“Aww, you’re blushing! You’re definitely in to him!” She squealed, wrapping her arms around my torso and jumping happily. 

“No I’m not! I- we barely know each other! We’ve talked like twice, and he’s a Slytherin! We’d never work!��� 

“He’s sweet, though, right?” She teased, poking my cheek as I flushed further. “He’s obviously cute! Come on, what’s holding you back?”

“I- just- ugh, can you just leave it alone?” I whined, covering my now very red cheeks with my hands as she smiled. She just shrugged and finally walked off, leaving me to walk into my dorm alone and flop down onto the bed with a frustrated sigh. 

I didn’t like Joshua. Sure, he was handsome and charming and helpful and just about everything I’d find attractive in just about anyone, but we barely knew each other, and we were from polar opposite houses! I was burdened by Momo’s words for the rest of the night, not speaking much at dinner as my eyes searched the dining hall for a certain dark haired Slytherin. 

~

“Alright everyone! For this project, I’ll need you to form groups of two; choose wisely! I’ll give you all a moment to form your groups and find a spot to settle in.” Professor Sprout smiled brightly over the sea of students currently present in our joint herbology class with the Slytherins, everyone now scampering to find their friends and pair up as quickly as possible. 

I turned excitedly to see Seungkwan already giving me a knowing look, smiling and patting the space next to him as I strode over happily. My heart dropped, however, when none other than Momo sat herself down in the seat previously meant for me, whispering something to Seungkwan before they both looked at me, their eyes flitting over teasingly to a group of boys that had yet to settle in. God no, please no-

“Hey y/n, do you have a partner yet?” I turned to see Josh smiling at me expectantly, my heart fluttering as I took in his hair and his lips and damn it maybe I was starting to come to terms with my crush on Joshua- “Uh, y/n?”

I realized I hadn’t replied to him yet in all of this time I’d been ogling him, his eyebrows furrowed in a hint of concern as my mouth fell open and closed quickly. “Oh, uh, yeah- I mean, no, no I don’t have a partner yet.” I smiled sheepishly, Josh’s own smile widening. “Would you, maybe, wanna work together?”

“I was gonna ask you, actually.” He said, motioning me towards the first open station we saw. I smiled and nodded, tossing a glare over my shoulder at Momo and Seungkwan silently cheering me on in the background before we sat down and Joshua’s presence fully stole my attention.

~ 

“y/n!” I startled at the sudden calling of my name in the previously perfect silence of the library, looking up from my records work to see Joshua emerging from the shelves.

“Hi, Josh. Do you need anything?” I asked, taking note of the books he had stacked in his arms.

“Just wanted to check these two out, please.” He said, placing them gently next to the records book in front of me. I smiled and took down the serial numbers and his name quickly, handing the books back to him as quickly as possible so I could finish up my work for the day. It hit me like a lightning bolt when his hand brushed mine as he accepted each of the books back, a glimmer in his eye when I looked at him inquisitively. “Have you read them?”

“Oh, no, not those. Uh, interesting choice of books.” I squirmed awkwardly under the weight of the mundane conversation, mentally facepalming at my inability to think of literally anything else to say.

“They’re for a charms report,” he smiled, “are you coming to the Hufflepuff vs. Slytherin match on Saturday by any chance?”

“Oh, I don’t know, I might just stay in and do some homework, maybe take care of some of my chores that I’ve been putting off-“

“Oh, come on, live a little. Or have you already come to terms with your house’s loss?” He taunted. I rolled my eyes.

“Badgers eat snakes, dear, I think we’ll be just fine.” I teased back. He laughed, a sound I wouldn’t have minded hearing more often, of course, and leaned forward onto the desk.

“How about we make a wager: if Slytherin wins, I get to take you on a date.” My breath hitched in my throat, causing me to choke and my chest to explode into a quiet coughing fit that probably only fanned the flame under Joshua.

“Where did that come from?” I asked frantically.

“Where did your confidence go?” He asked. “What do you say?”

“What if we win?”

“Hmmm, unlikely, but... I’ll wear Hufflepuff robes the whole day Monday. I’ll even see if I can talk the whole team into it.” He said. I mulled over his words quietly, scanning over the pages of records I was taking down while I thought. 

“Okay, then. It’s a deal. I’ll see you Saturday.” I said, offering a shy glance up at him as I tried to keep the raging blush on my cheeks to a minimum. 

“Can’t wait. We’ll set a time and place after the match.” He said, strutting off happily with his books in hand. I bit my lip, fighting to repress the smile that threatened to turn up my lips when I heard a quiet “yes!” echo through the halls outside of the doors before they closed. 

~

“I’m glad you came with us, y/n! It’s been a while since we got you to come to a game!” Jihyo smiled brightly, Momo bouncing along next to her happily as she nodded along.

“Yeah, well, I just thought I’d get out instead of spending my weekend in the dorms. Honestly, it’s nice, getting all excited about watching a match again.” I said, rubbing the back of my neck and looking away towards the towering hoops.

“Yeah, they’ve picked up a new appreciation for the game just recently, actually.” Momo teased, nudging Jihyo and, subsequently, me. I glared at her while Jihyo just looked at us in confusion, leading us to a few empty seats where we’d get a good view of the game.

We sat down right in time to watch the players fly out in procession, Jihyo cheering as her boyfriend Daniel, one of the chasers for the Slytherin team, flew by. I couldn’t help but smile a little at the thought of me getting to cheer Joshua on when he flew out for a game. I did, actually, my breath catching a little in my chest when I saw him fly by with his dark green robes flapping around him, his hair blowing beautifully in the wind and skin gleaming in the sun. I felt my heart quicken when I observed him, now floating in front of the hoop, scanning the crowd for confirmation of my attendance.

It really was nice getting excited for a game, participating in the festivities... having a player searching for you in the crowd, listening specifically for your cheers over the rest. I waved at Josh when his eyes fell in my general direction, his lips quirking up into a lopsided grin when (I’m assuming) he saw me before his attention returned to the match just about to start.

I didn’t know much about the rules anymore, but I did remember enough to know that Joshua was very good and he was trying very hard to win. Whenever he made a good play, he’d look down at me and smile, once even mouthing something to me that I assumed was about taking me out. I felt bad, but I couldn’t help but feel a little downtrodden when my own house made a good play. Was that blasphemous?

Whatever it was, it was what I felt, and I could tell that Joshua was feeling it, too, whenever he’d look down on me with a little pout on his face and make me laugh. As the match got more intense, I leaned forward, the sounds of cheering fans and Momo’s occasional teasing drowning out as I zoned in fully, hoping and praying that Joshua could keep it up, that Jeonghan would catch the snitch.

The buzzer sounded. It was announced that Slytherin had just obtained the snitch. I was completely deaf to the crowd as I sprang from my seat, whooping and cheering while Momo gazed on happily and Jihyo clapped half heartedly along with me in confusion. Joshua’s smile in that moment could’ve made flowers grow, his eyes falling upon my smiling face as he joined the rest of the team for a victory lap around the arena.

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Vampr Erik Origin: Part Two

okay so I wanted to quickly get this out to basically wrap up the origin half of my new vampire Erik series Faerie and Vampr  that I am starting.

Origin Part One

Let’s start with a little background on vampires:

In order to create a vampire, a human must be drained of their blood by a vampire and the blood lost needs to be replaced by some of the vampire's blood. The vampire and human must then sleep in the ground (this is presumably the point where they technically die) until the newborn rises as a vampire the following night. The newborn and the maker will subsequently have a maker-progeny bond, unless the maker deserts or releases their progeny.

If the head, or the heart are missing at the time of death, the person in question will not wake in transition; but simply stay dead. Currently, it is unknown what will happen to a person who lost other organs, such as a liver, or kidneys, and woke up in transition. Most fatal injuries, such as snapped necks, slit throats, stab wounds, and shattered bones from falls will be healed before the fledgling vampire awakens in transition. Furthermore, the person must be mortally wounded or ill to the point that conventional means cannot save their lives. I 

A newborn's existence depends upon their abilities, which are taught to them by their maker. These abilities take time to learn and develop. As vampires age, they become more adept at controlling their abilities. According to the history of the creation of vampires, two-thirds of newborns die during their first year without the guidance of their makers.

Newborn vampires will be thirsty and will need to feed to survive. Although newborns have some control of their abilities, they are mostly controlled by their impulses and can cause serious harm and accidental deaths to humans around them. In addition, newborns cannot resist blood at all, as resistance develops with age. The biggest difference is the fact that a vampire gains extreme strength, and has much agility and reflexes. This is more than a match for almost every human alive, and serves the vampire well for hunting and feeding. Of course, like humans, some vampires are just naturally stronger than others. 

Also, if a human who is strong is turned into a vampire, then that human strength is added to the vampire strength, creating a very powerful vampire. This is why many vampire leaders will sire huge men; they make incredible bodyguards even against a Slayer. As a vampire grows older, it’s demon side becomes more and more powerful. Vampires do not age, their bodies are, for the most part, just reanimated preserved corpses, and do they, through supernatural means, stay the same forever. There are some exceptions, for example, vampires still appear to grow hair...though perhaps at a much-reduced rate. 

A vampire can suffer terrible injuries and heal from them easily. Since they can only be killed by a few select things, they can suffer injuries a human could not heal from, like a broken spine. Gunshots, swords, and any injuries caused by weapons that aren’t wood can’t kill a vampire, only cause pain. Certain vampire poisons and magic do exist though, which will permanently hurt, or kill a vampire. In 1610, a powerful witch named Antonia Gavilán de Logroño cast a spell that summoned all vampires within a 20 mile radius to expose themselves to sunlight. This caused a number of vampires to die and caused vampires to be very fearful of necromancy.

Another example of the supernatural preservation is that vampires don’t need to take oxygen to live. They can, however, force air in and out of their lungs, which allows them to do things like smoke, or perhaps cool air into their chest if they get too warm. They do not have a beating heart like humans do. Although this is true, through some supernatural means they still seem to have blood flow. Without a blood flow, a vampire can’t bleed, or react to drugs, which they clearly do. They can’t however become pregnant or produce waste. 

Vampires are recognizable from their fangs, which are located behind the maxillary lateral incisors (as opposed to the canines, as per vampire mythology). Fangs can be extended and retracted by choice, and are controlled by the movements of certain facial muscles. However, fangs protrude automatically when vampires are feeding, angry, excited, sexually aroused (colloquially referred to as a "fang boner"), need to fight, or see blood. Fangs can also be removed, but grow back after three months. Without fangs, vampires cannot feed on live victims unless the victim is already wounded….

——————————-

Erik’s eyes shot wide open in a flash. Darkness surrounded him and his large, muscular body was resting on a hard surface. He could hear the springtails, beetles, centipedes, and ants that make their home in the soil, crawling around. The katydids and crickets were chirping much louder in his ears now. He could smell the odor of dry blood and decay in the earth from the deceased. His body no longer aches and he felt like he had the strength of an entire army. 

The last thing he remembered was waking up on a makeshift bed surrounded by burning ritual candles enchanted with herbs, oils, and crystals chosen for their metaphysical and magical properties. He could recall a voice, a captivating voice speaking Jamaican patois in his ear. Now that he forced himself to remember while lying beneath the cold, damp earth, she said she was Mama Dalma; Tia Dalma. The powerful voodoo priestess Erik heard many stories about in his youth. 

Like flashes, Erik could vividly see her coming down on him speedily and sinking her teeth into his neck, draining him of his blood. What was she? She said that she would give him the power of immortality, superhuman strength, and healing capabilities. Did that include drinking blood too? From what Erik could tell from his razor-sharp senses is that it’s nightfall. His hands reach above him, feeling around since he could only see pitch black. He noticed wood beneath his fingertips. Erik pushed with ease, although the top flew off and landed somewhere far within the distance. He sits up, finally breathing in the night air. 

Erik stares at his hands in bewilderment before looking around him. Erik could see the full moon peeking through the branches of the oak trees. As his eyes moved he could make out a sprawling wooden shack surrounded by a damp, gloomy world. It’s a steamy bayou and the forest within this area looked like a spooky cypress where fireflies flickered in the heavy air. The swamp water surrounding the shack was eerily still. The sprawling shack clings to the branches of a tree within the swamp. This had to be Tia Dalma’s home. 

...Yuh can stay here on muh table and die slowly...or I can give yuh immortality….

Her words rang true in his ears. Tia Dalma saved his life. Erik was about to die by the hands of white men who seeked revenge for burning down their homes and killing their families. He now remembers tasting the mixture of saltwater and freshwater, also known as brackish water in his mouth after being tossed inside the swamp by the white men. The gators would have devoured him in minutes if it wasn’t for him being pulled from the swamp. He figured Tia must have killed those men and rescued him. 

Standing slowly, Erik tested his ability to move by stepping out of what appears to be a wooden coffin and into the shoveled-out ditch. He clearly recovered from the multiple stab wounds to his abdomen. His cream colored linen blend shirt with a collar was still covering his torso even though it was ripped. Erik delicately touches the skin of his much smoother chest, his head lowering to follow his movements with fascination. His blood still stained the shirt that is also covered in dirt and grass stains. Lifting his shirt up, he examined his abdomen, the muscles crunching the more he bends his back to get a good look. 

There are no wounds. The jagged knife used on him to create deep gashes was apparently gone. All that’s left is smooth skin and an eight pack so rock hard that if a mortal punched him their phalanges down to their carpals would be fractured beyond repair. Erik breathes irregularly and his eyes are wide with astonishment. He quickly touched his face and head, his hands moving rapidly with shock. His face is back to normal before the white men kicked, punched, and pistol-whipped him. 

“Wut kind of magic is dis’?” He spoke with a staggering voice. While staring at his hands, a drop of blood landed on his skin. Startled, Erik touches his nose, bringing it down to examine. He’s bleeding. After that realization an insatiable need to eat overpowered him. It hit him so fast and strong that it made his body weaken and stumble. He grabbed at his throat as more blood dripped from his nostrils. Erik lets out agonized gasps that turned into deep growls. His fingers damn near clawed at his throat. He felt like he was going to die if he didn’t eat something, anything.

“Wah yuh still doin’ down dere?” 

Erik turned with great speed towards the direction of the vivid voice. Standing above him, was Tia Dalma herself. She’s wearing the same sheer, black gown Erik remembers, her long, slender dreadlocks framing her face and a sneaky smile was plastered on her black painted lips. 

“Wut happened to me? Did I die?” Erik says while looking up at Tia Dalma with his inky black irises outlined crimson twinkling in the evening night. 

“If yuh climb out of deh, Mama will tell yuh everything,” Tia Dalma steps back, “Come mi child.” 

Erik grabs hold of a few vines sprouting from the soil-covered wall before climbing up with superhuman agility, his body standing before Tia Dalma in a matter of seconds. The speed still amazed him. It felt like everything around him was moving at a slow pace. Tia locked eyes with Erik before circling him. She was especially proud of herself. She finally has a progeny after 175 years of immortality. Tia smelled Erik’s dreadlocks and squeezed his muscles while circling his beautiful frame. 

“I give yuh more life, Erik Stevens. Yuh will walk deh earth unstoppable, like mi,” Tia caresses Erik’s cheek with her sharp, long black nail. He looked her up and down before his eyes moved to the finger on his cheek. He gently brings his hand up, grabbing her finger and bringing it away from his face. 

“Wut am I?” He spoke carefully with squinted eyes. 

“Yuh a Vampr, Erik, a creature of deh night, deh undead.” 

“Ondèd? Mwen? Ondèd?” He walks away, his head moving up, down, and side to side with curiosity and confusion. Mama Dalma watched like a proud mother with her arms crossed, allowing Erik to get a feel of things before she started teaching him. The sooner the better since he’s a newborn. Erik could see with perfect clarity in the darkness of the night, to the point of being able to detect bodily heat emanations. The keenness was comparable on many levels to a bat or owl but ten times more. 

Erik starts moving extremely quick, testing out his new abilities. He would run to the left and stop, then turn and do the same thing, creating diagonal patterns with his movements. This speed made it impossible for him to be detected. The more he moved, the more excited he became. He was like a curious child, wanting to explore what else he was capable of doing. Erik ran towards an oak tree, wrapped his arms around it, and without even trying, he uprooted the entire tree before dropping it. The oak tree landed on the ground heavily, causing it to shake like an earthquake. This startled the animals, leading to a few deer and owls fleeing. 

“Just rampin around huh?” Tia Dalma laughs before walking up to Erik. His eyes are wide and his nostrils flared. All he wanted to do was move. Staying still only agitated him. Mama Dalma grabs his arm, yanking him towards her with her strength superior to Erik’s since she is much older. 

“Ah, yuh have deh bleeds,” Tia wipes Erik’s nose with her fingers, “Deh is what happens when yuh need to eat.” She checked his ears, and sure enough, he’s bleeding from there as well. Erik raises a single brow in question, clearly not understanding a word she was saying. 

“Out and bad, yuh will have deh chance to play, but for now, mi have to teach yuh about what it is to be a vampr. Listen to mi, Erik,” She spoke sternly while grabbing his chin harshly, “Yuh have to feed. Deh is mi first lesson. Feedin’. Come.” 

Tia Dalma grabs Erik’s hand and the both of them zoom off into the night. 

___________________

A white young lady named Isabella Guidry was playing her violin on the open porch of her family's plantation home. The Guidry plantation had about thirty field slaves before they were all freed because of the abolition of slavery. The only negros left we’re the house negros who prepared meals, cleaned, and baby sat. Isabella had just turned 21 years old and she was in preparation to be wed to a veteran named Alex Bellefleur who served as First Lieutenant in the 28th Louisiana Infantry. She suddenly stopped playing her violin when she heard her mother calling for her. 

“Isabella! Come in darling! Yvette has to do ya hair! Ya have to teach the new debutants in da morning!” 

“Coming, mama!” Isabella places her violin back in its case before securing it. She fluffed out her full forest green skirt that reached the ground, the bustle providing fullness in the back. The cream-colored corset top with cotton bell sleeves cinched her waist giving her an hourglass appearance. She stepped inside of the grand plantation home, the eldest house negro named Mabel approaching her cautiously. Mabel was wearing an apron over her withering cotton dress, her silver hair sprouting from underneath her sun bonnet. 

“Miss Isabella, ya needin’ any help?” Mabel asks.

“Just take my violin, please,” Isabella spoke dismissively, “Da last time one of ya broke my precious violin...DONT break this one,” Isabella spoke harshly. 

“Yes ma’am,” Mabel grabs the violin case from Isabella carefully before turning to leave with a limp in her leg.

“Why are ya walking like that, Mabel?” Isabella studied Mabel’s legs.

“Nothin’ just tired is all,” Mabel smiles despite her pain before turning the corner to leave.

“Isabella!” 

Her green eyes looked up to find her mother standing at the top of the stairs dressed in a black gown with a full skirt, her jet black hair pulled to the back of her head in a neat bun, and pearls dangling from her slender neck. She was clutching a handkerchief and before Isabella could ask why her mother began coughing into it. 

“Get up here, Bella. Yvette will put barley curls in ya hair and roll dem up. She’s waiting in ya room.” 

Her mother turns away abruptly, her heels clicking against the hardwood floor before disappearing into her bedroom. Isabella climbs the stairs to her room, worry filling her belly for her mother. When she finally made it to her room, Yvette was waiting for her patiently by her Astoria Grand Vanity. Yvette is a mulatto slave who Isabella’s father treated differently from the others because she’s his secret daughter. Her father slept with a house slave named Edna and impregnated her. Isabella’s mother found out and sold Edna to another plantation; the Compton plantation in St. Tammany Parish. 

“Evenin’ Miss Isabella,” Yvette spoke with her beguiling voice. She has smooth tawny skin, loose curly, sandy brown ringlets framing her face while the rest was hidden beneath a red and khaki tigon, which was simply the French New Orleans version of an African head wrap. She wore a brown southern belle dress with lace drop shoulder sleeves, a low neckline, and a voluminous skirt. Isabella hates that this is her half sister and the fact that she gets to dress so nicely. 

“Who gave ya dat dress?” Isabella asks with an attitude and jealous eyes. 

“I made it, Miss Isabella,” Yvette blinks her chocolate brown eyes away, “I have to do ya hair.”

“I know, barely curls,” Isabella takes a seat at her vanity, her eyes sharp on Yvette. Yvette could feel her burning holes through her head with her furious eyes while she took down Isabella’s black hair. Yvette grabs a brush to smooth it down, “Well? Wut are ya waitin’ on?! Do my hair!” 

“Yes, Miss Isabella,” Yvette moved at a faster pace before grabbing a clip to pin up some of Isabella’s dark strands. 

“I hate ya,” Isabella didn’t hesitate to say, “Ya brought down my family, ya negro tramp.” 

Yvette bites her tongue. She had a lot that she wanted to say to Isabella but she would only end up killed. It wasn’t her fault that her father slept with her mother, Edna, around the same time Isabella’s mother was pregnant. Yvette didn’t ask to be here. She couldn’t control the fact that she was half white, even though she despised that side of her because of how they treated blacks. Yvette will always feel disgusted about that part of her. While Yvette began working on Isabella’s hair, wetting a few strands, a scream rang out from her mother’s room. It went on a few more times, the sound so scary it made Isabella’s fingers tremble. Yvette was in the middle of wrapping Isabella’s damp hair around a piece of soft rag to form the curls when she stopped, a startled expression on her face. 

“What da hell?” Isabella stands, “mama?” She called. Her father wasn’t home yet from an outing with her fiancé, Alex, and the rest of the men for drinks, preferably hard apple cider and rum. It was unnaturally quiet. A pin dropping would probably echo throughout the room from how silent it was. Isabella lets out a panting breath before standing from her vanity. Yvette began to quickly clean Isabella’s vanity, her hands shaky. She heard tales about Ricardo Dupoux and his revolt burning down plantations throughout Louisiana. She didn’t want to be around for it to happen. 

“Go see what dat noise is!” Isabella ordered. Yvette pauses, giving Isabella a dirty look. 

“Did I stutter, nigger?! Go see what dat is! NOW!” Isabella yells with a trembling finger pointed to the door. 

Yvette drops the items in her hand onto the vanity before gathering the bottom of her dress to walk away. Before she could even make it to the door it was torn from its hinges. Yvette runs to the other side of the room, tripping over the bottom of her dress, and falling to the floor while Isabella screams, falling back against her bed. Standing at the door, both bodies covered in blood, is a black man and a black woman. Their eyes are round with pitch black irises, mouths wide open and sharp fangs protruding automatically to threaten. Their faces from the nose down are covered in blood and some of it stained their clothes. The woman, however, barely wore any fabric, her small breasts with hardened nipples and her hairy mound clearly visible. 

“WHO ARE YA?!!! WHAT DID YA DO TO MY MAMA?!!!” Isabella yells with fear. Yvette was hugging herself in a corner, tears filling her eyes as she prayed in Haitian creole. 

“Chè Bondye, tanpri, mwen pa vle mouri,” She sobbed while praying. 

“No use in cryin’ child, hush yuh mouth,” Mama Dalma spoke with an evil tongue, “hole yuh cahna, gurl,” She insulted Isabella, putting her in her place when she kept yelling about how they are a bunch of niggers and how her father will find them and kill them. 

Erik tasted his first victim and it was glorious. It was like an unimaginable, indescribable sweet heavenly nectar. It’s like being able to perpetually exist off nothing but sweet desserts without any negative health repercussions. The taste of Isabella’s mother's blood reminded him of fresh gala apples. It satisfied his hunger but it didn’t give him that feeling he yearned for, a feeling close to an orgasm. A feeling close to his dick chubbing up in his brown knickers. As he stared at Isabella with predatory eyes, he could hear her heart racing, and smell her fear, a scent that Erik relished. While he was draining Isabella’s mother dry he could hear Isabella’s heartbeat through the thick walls. His new powers as the undead allowed him to see Isabella’s blood and brain activity as well. 

“Mwen pa ka tann pou tiye sa a,” Erik spoke with a deep, gravelly voice before licking blood from his chin with his thick pink tongue. Mama Dalma gave him a seductive look, her clit jumping below her tightly coiled pubic hair. Yvette shudders from his words. He said he couldn’t wait to kill Isabella. Yvette wondered if he would say the same about her. 

“Eat mi child,” Mama Dalma says with a wave of her hand, granting Erik permission to drain Isabella dry. Mama Dalama couldn’t keep her eyes off of Erik’s blood-covered lips and fangs. Isabella tried to run with a high-pitched scream filling the room but Erik already detected her escape, running up on her at a whizzing speed that ripped through the air, grabbing her by the back of her frail neck and slamming her face first on the hardwood floor. Erik twisted her neck painfully before sinking his fangs deep into her pulsating jugular vein. Since he’s new, he drank from Isabella with so much excitement to taste her blood that Tia had to stand by him to instruct him. 

“Patience, Erik, slow down,” Mama Dalma moves some of his dreads from his face, “Feel her heartbeat...yuh feel that? Yuh hear it slowing up? Deh is what yuh want to look for. When yuh feedin’ yuh must never take deh last breath or it will draw yuh in and yuh will drop out. If yuh plan on feeding yuh have to learn how to do it without killing dem, yuh know?” 

Isabella’s cries grew fainter and fainter. Yvette was staring her in the eyes, watching the life drain from her body. Tears of fear fell from Yvette’s eyes and a hand came up to cover her mouth so she wouldn’t scream. She didn’t understand what she was witnessing before her eyes. 

“Good job, Big up yourself,” Mama Dalma congratulates Erik on properly feeding from his victim, “Now, yuh may finish her off.” 

Erik didn’t need to be told twice. He sank his fangs deeper, ripping the flesh from her neck, and in a matter of seconds, Isabella was lifeless. Erik retracted his fangs before dropping her body to the floor with a loud thud. Her blood was much better than her mother’s, it tasted like cinnamon apples. He could easily tell Isabella and her mother apart from their bodily odor, down to their blood types.

“Now, appreciate yuh prey,” Mama Dalma smashes Isabella’s head like a watermelon with her bare foot, “Deh are food, and only food.” She reminds a newborn Erik. 

“More,” Erik says while the blood of his victims electrified his body. 

“There’s one more,” Mama Dalma points her sharp black claw nail at Yvette, “She’s a pretty one too...I bet she tastes better,” Mama Dalma says with a honeyed voice. 

The echo-sensitivity of Erik’s hearing is what made him notice Yvette. When his eyes landed on hers and his nose sniffed the air she openly cried, her hands flailing and pretty face stained with tears. His sheer speed made it impossible for Yvette to escape. Erik picks Yvette up by her neck and slams her against the wall, grabbing her chin to aggressively turn her head so that he could have access to her neck, or, another area…

“Mwen...Mwen...bèl, Mwen,” His eyes are glued to the copious amount of cleavage she has spilling over the top of her dress. Her skin was translucent to him and he could see her veins and arteries contracting and pushing blood throughout her. Then, Erik could hear her heart like ritual drums pounding his ears. She smelled so...good. Her scent was like Heliotropes with their vivid purple beauty that reminded Erik of cherry pie. 

“Tanpri, pa touye m’. Mwen ansent!!!” She pleaded and shook with fear, “Mwen gen yon ti bebe k ap grandi andedan mwen!!” She couldn’t look Erik in his killer eyes. 

Erik retracted his fangs, his eyes tearing away from Yvette’s cleavage with great restraint. He lets go of Yvette walking away to control himself. Yvette slides down the wall to the floor clutching her belly. She trembled as she cried. Erik clenched his fists, trying his best to control his breathing and his temptations to drain her dry. 

“Erik? Wuh are yuh doing?!!!” Mama Dalma spoke with rage, speeding over to Erik and standing in front of him, “Yuh stopped...why did Yuh do deh?!” Mama Dalma was hysterical. 

“Not dis one,” Erik spoke with a low trembling voice, “She’s pregnant.” 

Mama Dalma tilted her head up at Erik before grabbing his chin roughly, causing her sharp nails to sink into the flesh of his cheeks, drawing blood,“Yuh came here to feed, right? Wat a gwaan? Yuh killed the other two just fine. Yuh can’t have remorse, it’s not in our nature.” 

“I can’t do it,” Erik moves his head away from Mama Dalma’s grip, “There has to be another way, I can’t-I can’t kill her.” 

Mama Dalma’s eyes were scornful on Erik. He didn’t cower under her gaze because he knew she wouldn’t kill him, she needed him, that much Erik could tell. 

Mama Dalma closes her eyes with a shake of her head, “Yuh queff dem whites...Yuh need to glamour this one then, wipe her memory.” 

Erik’s eyes narrowed with confusion. 

“It's a form of hypnosis. Come, I’ll show Yuh.” 

Both Mama Dalma and Erik dash to Yvette causing her to scream. Erik places a hand over her mouth to calm her but it wasn’t working. Mama Dalma rolls her eyes with frustration, preferring to kill her but Erik did need to learn how to glamour his victims. 

“Alright, now, stare into her eyes.” 

Erik locks eyes with Yvette. 

“Keep eye contact...yes...now, yuh will feel yourself invading her mind...when yuh feel that connection, hold it with all Yuh might. Now...use your voice to compel her to do wuh yuh want her to do...now try.” 

Erik felt tethered to Yvette’s mind. It was hard to hold on but Erik pushed himself to keep Yvette under his control. He liked the challenge and if this was going to be his life he needed to do it right the first time. That was the perfectionist in him, even as Ricardo Dupoux. 

“...I’m going to release ya mouth now….” Erik spoke calmly and carefully. Yvette didn’t make a sound as Erik’s hand left her mouth. She stared at him with a dazed expression like she was in a dream-like state. 

“Tell me, what’s ya name, girl?” Erik asks. 

“Yvette,” She spoke with reverie.

“Yvette...ya very lucky tonight. Ya get to leave dis plantation and never look back. Ya can find ya family, and be free with ya babies,” Erik smiles with his blood stained lips and deep charming dimples causing Yvette to smile. 

“I can finally see my mama?” even in a stupor, Yvette couldn’t fight the tears of joy falling from her eyes. 

“Yeah, ya can go to ya mama. Ya won’t remember wut happened here tonight, ya never even saw me, or her,” Erik reaches out to stroke Yvette’s face. She leaned into his touch while staring at him like she was stuck in a daydream. 

“Now, I’m gonna let ya go now, girl. Forget this plantation, just keep going and don’t look back, ya hear me?” 

“Yes sir.”

“Good girl, now, go on, love, leave and never, ever look back.” Erik stressed while holding the eye contact he had with her. Yvette blinked her pretty chocolate brown eyes at him like she was under a love spell, “Say, yes sir so I know you understand what I’m telling ya to do.” 

“Yes sir,” Yvette says with a nod of her head. Erik left her in suspended animation while Yvette lifted from the floor, gathering the front of her dress, and walking out of the room. She was gone. 

“Yuh gonna tell mi wuh happened back dere?” 

Erik turned to Mama Dalma and she was on him in a flash, slamming him to the floor hard and breaking the floorboards beneath him. His fangs extended and he hissed at her with his dark eyes unblinking on her. Mama Dalma’s hands are a blur as she holds Erik down with his arms above his head. She hissed in his face harder, her fangs inches away from biting a hole through his pouty bottom lip. 

“Yuh enjoy misbehaving I see. Let me tell yuh something,” She spoke with venom, “I am Yuh maker, I created yuh, and I can take Yuh life away,” She snaps her fingers before dragging her hand down his body to his crotch, squeezing his erection hard,  “Just...like...deh, do yuh understand? I command yuh, I have a link to Yuh body and when I call on yuh...yuh come to mama,” She whispered before pushing off of him with great speed, standing above him. 

“Retract yuh fangs,” She says. Erik glared at her on that floor, disobeying her yet again. 

“As yuh maker, I COMMAND YUH TO RETRACT YUH FANGS...NOW!” Her voice boomed. 

Erik retracted them without any more trouble. 

“Good boy,” She says, “Now get up. I’m not finished feedin’.” 

_______________

There are rows of Cajun homes within New Orleans that belonged to many white people. Some were plantations, others were of regular architecture. Mama Dalma and Erik have been feeding all night and it would be dawn soon in a couple of hours. Since Tia has already killed the men that attempted to kill Erik, Erik seeked revenge on their families. They couldn’t walk into the homes unless they were invited which is what got them inside of the Guidry plantation. An elder house negro named Mabel invited them inside when Mama Dalma persuaded her. As soon as Mama Dalma and Erik stepped into the home, Mama Dalma killed Mabel by draining her blood through her throat. 

Mama Dalma made Erik glamor each white person that owned the homes so they could invite them inside to kill them. Bloody footprints made a trail up the road to each and every home. Children, mothers, and fathers all lay in a bloody pile for the flies to swarm them. It was sensual and addictive to feed from his victims. He didn’t feel sexual attraction towards them, especially the racists whites all over New Orleans, but the tastier the blood, the harder his dick became. His mortal life was becoming an afterthought, especially with what happened at the Guidry plantation. He couldn’t bring himself to kill Yvette, even as a newborn, because she was pregnant. Her fear and her words made him think about Justine Dupoux; his wife, and his two little girls, Rose Fabiola Dupoux and Felicie Ines Dupoux. 

With Dawn approaching, Mama Dalma and Erik are simply walking through the bayou, dried blood on their skin from head to toe. Mama Dalma tells Erik the story of how she was created. A mob of pirates came looking for her to kill her because of a curse she placed on them. They hunted her down and each of them took turns raping and stabbing her to death. She was coughing up her own blood in her shack in Cuba similar to the one she has in New Orleans. Just minutes later, a handsome vampr with smooth bronze skin, a broad and hooked nose, thick curly hair, and a tall, slender frame cane upon her. He said he had traveled from the Eastern Desert that extends from the Nile Valley all the way to the Red Sea Coast. He was stunned by Mama Dalma’s bravery and beauty, so he granted her the gift of immortality. 

Erik impressed Mama Dalma for his thirst for things. She, however, knew that Erik was going to be trouble since he’s not used to taking orders from anyone. Within their walk in the remaining hours of darkness, Mama Dalma taught Erik all about the world of a vampire and its history from what her maker shared with her. As for Erik’s new powers, he was beside himself with the pleasure of it all. He will live forever, he is strong and unstoppable, and he can hypnotize people at will. One downside to it all was that he was going to miss the feeling of the sun on his skin, releasing endorphins such as serotonin; proven to improve mood, and energy, and increase feelings of calm and focus. Another downside stood before his eyes right now. Erik didn’t mean to come here. 

Hiding in the trees, Erik stares at his old home. It was a beautiful forest retreat surrounded by green. He remembers building this home from the ground up. Focusing his eyes, Erik can see an oil lamp ignited in the small window of the living room. Just beyond the glass, Justine could be seen praying with Erik’s mother, Fabiola. He could hear them calling on the spirits for help to bring Erik back to them. Rose and Felicie are sound asleep in their beds. Erik can hear their soft breaths. He couldn’t stop thinking about all the times he would enter that home, kicking off his riding boots and sneaking up on his wife while she sewed their daughters clothing, placing a delicate kiss to her neck before trailing those kisses down to his wife’s copious cleavage. He could almost feel her curves against his solid frame. Then, the smell of his daughter's hair; a lavender scent. They were always so happy to see him. 

“Come on, we’ve stayed long enough,” Mama Dalma says with a hand to Erik’s shoulder, “A vampire's life is a life of discretion.”

“Discretion?” Erik looks down at Mama Dalma as his eyes become glossy before they leaked bloody tears, “Why must we hide, Mama Dalma? We are da powerful, we are da immortal, we should walk fearless in da open,” Erik spoke with a raucous voice. He didn’t like that he had to leave his family behind. Stopping here to see his home one final time was a grave mistake. 

“Deh cannot be, mi child,” Mama Dalma wipes away Erik’s bloody tears with her fingers, slipping them into her mouth to clean off, “Mortals must never know bout’ us for deh sake of our kind-

“So I can never know my family?!!!” Erik’s voice was thick with emotion.

“Not unless yuh plan on killing all of dem. Yuh have to cut out, Erik,” She steps closer to him, her eyes more serious, “Yuh must be dead to deh world.” 

“I can’t accept dat,” He steps away. 

“As yuh maker, I command yuh to leave yuh family behind.” 

Erik’s body felt like it was being controlled just from those words alone. Mama Dalma starts walking away, and Erik has no other choice but to follow her while bloody tears stained his cheeks. 

“Yuh will do nothing but feed and feed until yuh are satisfied. We are savages, it is time for yuh to understand deh...I am sick of repeating myself wit yuh,” Mama Dalma scolds, “Now, let us go to ground until tomorrow night, I’m craving infant blood,” Mama Dalma wickedly laughs while twirling around in a state of euphoria, her hands playing in her dreadlocks, “I know where deh newborn nursery is at Charity Hospital!! Nice, plump babies!!!” 

Tia Dalma is the epitome of vampiric evil and malice, all because of her abusive, cold-hearted, and manipulative maker named Abasi. Abasi and Tia traveled all over from South America, Africa, Europe, and North America.Together, Abasi using Tia’s abilities to seduce and entice men and women, he lured them into his clutches, thereby raping and murdering countless men and women then mutilating their bodies. Abasi created a sadistic vampire. Erik has yet to see what Mama Dalma is capable of and she couldn’t wait to transform him into a male version of herself, just as cruel, limitless, sadistic, and torturous. 

____________________

It is the year 1891, three years after Erik Stevens was made vampr. Mama Dalma and Erik often traveled to the French Quarter, also known as Vieux Carré and Barrio Francés. Anglophone Americans and Francophone Creoles would meet and do business in both French and English. It was a big tourist destination. There are multi-story Creole townhouses with businesses occupying ground floors and living quarters above. There were railroad tracks, warehouses, and industries built near the riverfront. Some wealthy Quarter residents relocated to Esplanade Avenue and North Rampart Street when things became overcrowded. Here, Mama Dalma and Erik felt most alive at night. It’s been a while since Erik came to the French Quarter. 

The old Lalaurie mansion that was burned down by a mob in 1834 and remodeled in 1838 is used as a public school for girls. Evening parades with drunken civilians who engaged in sex and violence thrilled Mama Dalma and Erik. There is a luxury hotel that Mama Dalma and Erik often decide to bombard and take the riches from the wealthy whites after draining them. Erik especially loved to steal three piece lounge suits and polished shoes for himself from local shops. He looked dapper with the slim fit, always wearing his jackets partially undone to reveal the high buttoning waistcoats and watch-chain. He didn’t bother buttoning his shirt since he preferred it to be open to show off his defined pectorals and sculpted eight pack. He still dawned the Vodou jewelry he adored so much.

Mama Dalma is a confident woman who screams sex. She often wore long, sheer gowns that gave you a view of her nudity. She wore heavy jewelry like Erik and dark makeup that made her inky black eyes pop. She was determined to fuck Erik, waiting patiently for him to finally accept his new life. It took him over a year to freely accept being a vampire. He never talked about his family again which made Mama Dalma very happy, especially if he was going to be her lover. It was his compelling eyes, his remarkable body, his voice, the way he fed on his victims, how his dick would thicken and leave an enormous bulge that she wanted nothing more but to ride, suck, and nibble on with her fangs. She noticed the way women; white and black, looked at him. She noticed a lot of traits in his new vampire body. Erik is calculating, disobedient because he didn’t like to be told what to do and when to do it, seductive, calm and methodical unless pushed towards a lethal violence with surprising strength for a newborn. 

One evening, Mama Dalma and Erik visit a brothel, posing as a wealthy black couple. The prostitutes of the brothel were a mixture of races; French Creoles, Spanish, Haitian Creoles, African Americans, White Americans, and the list goes on. It’s been three years since Erik had sex with a woman. He would often lure and seduce them to kill them or feed but not to have sex. Seeing all of the half naked women offering themselves to him stirred something within him that he hadn’t felt since his wife. He could never see them again so there was no use in denying himself of what he craved besides drinking blood. Mama Dalma sensed his struggle and decided to let Erik have some fun while she watched, that is, until she intervenes.

 Erik chose a beautiful African American girl named Althea who physically reminded him of his wife; short, curves in all the right places, and lips so round and full he wondered how good they tasted. She wore tight, barely curls in her hair and Victorian lingerie with a corset in a peach color. She looked timid, constantly staring at her bare feet to avoid Erik’s piercing black eyes. Just simply extending his hand for her to grasp made her gasp. When Erik took her to a room draped in red velvet with fancy suede red furniture lit by an electric lantern, he informed her that Mama Dalma simply wanted to watch them have sex. This poor girl Althea didn’t know what was coming to her. Mama Dalma took a seat in a corner, removing her long coat and revealing her sheer gown underneath. 

“I’ve never done dis before...having a woman watch me,” Althea whispered nervously. 

“Just act like she’s not even there, girl,” Erik kisses down Althea’s neck, “Ya like da way I kiss?” 

“Yes,” Althea gasps when Erik’s tongue snakes down her neck to her cleavage, “Ya sure love to lick my skin, Sir,” Althea laughs nervously. She couldn’t keep her eyes off of Mama Dalma. 

“Ya smell just like honey,” Erik drags his nose along Althea’s skin, “I bet ya taste like honey too, girl...right here,” Erik says while rubbing her pussy lips through her lingerie. 

“Please,” Althea lays back in the bed, “ya so handsome, I need ya to fuck me.” 

Mama Dalma brings her hand down between her legs, resting her fingers over her curly pubic hair. Wet wasn’t even the word to describe how slick her folds are. Watching Erik undress Althea made her fangs extend on its own. Luckily, she’s in the shadows and Althea can’t see. Erik used one had to rip Althea’s corset and lingerie from her body, causing her to moan from his aggressiveness. Althea has nice big, round breasts with dark chocolate areolas and nipples. Mama Dalma could only imagine how it must feel to sink her teeth into all that flesh. 

“Goddamn, girl,” Erik practically rips his shirt from his body followed by his waistcoat, trousers, and shoes. Althea couldn’t believe the body before her was real. She touched Erik with intriguing eyes filled with so much desire they began to water. 

“What a beautiful man,” Althea expresses, “What are ya?” 

“Ya Master,” Erik gives Althea a wicked smile, “And da one dat plans on making ya cum,” He licks his lips before leaning forward to suck on Althea’s nipples. 

Her heart rate banged in his ears and the constant pulse coming from her veins and arteries was driving him insane. He was extremely hungry and after three years of being a vampire his control became better. His fangs didn’t extend prematurely anymore, now, Erik could control it. Althea’s sweet moans made his fat dick cast iron hard. He quickly drags his lips down Althea’s body while she grabs a fist full of his long, slender dreadlocks. Erik wasted no time while bringing Althea’s legs up and out, causing her to whimper. The smell of her inner folds was what caused his fangs to extend. Althea heard it and lifted to try and see but Erik held her down with a single hand around her throat while he vigorously lapped at her pussy. Pussy. He forgot how amazing it tasted but with his heightened senses he had to be licking grains of sugar. 

“Oh, yes, oh God, yes,” Althea was gripping the sheets while struggling to breath from Erik’s strong hand around her neck, “Yes, Master, eat my pussy like dat.” 

Mama Dalma was rubbing her clit in a circular motion with her razor sharp eyes focused on the way Erik’s tongue would lick Althea’s pussy. That thick, pink tongue would flick Althea’s clit up and down and then he would occasionally move that muscle side to side up and down Althea’s inner folds. She was nice and engorged down there, her hips constantly jerking like she wanted to shower Erik with her liquid. The minute Erik’s full lips wrapped around Althea’s clit and labia, Mama Dalma slips three fingers into her pussy to stroke herself. Althea couldn’t handle it. Mama Dalma however would have taken that sweet torture like a champion. 

“Unh! Unh! I’m cumming! Master, I’m cumming!” 

Althea’s hips levitated off of the bed and Erik followed her movements with his lips still sucking on her clit. 

“Jesus,” Mama Dalma whispers, “Yuh tore deh girl up, Erik...her pussy is nice and wet now.” 

Erik’s lips slowly pulled off of Althea’s clit to place kisses along her inner thighs. He licked with a circular motion to make her shiver before sinking her teeth into her thigh. Althea screams, yanking Erik’s dreadlocks. Her entire body spasms beneath him, soft whimpers escaping her mouth. She didn’t understand what was going on. Erik retracted his fangs before licking her blood up that constantly leaked. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before kneeling between Althea’s legs with his dick in hand. Althea watched him clutch that long pipe before bringing her knees back further. 

“It’s so big,” She says with a stunned voice, her hands holding her pussy lips open now with desperation, “ya fucking me wit dat?” She was nervous and aroused at the same time. 

“All of dat,” he leans over Althea’s body, his dick in one hand and his other hand wrapped around her curly strands. Erik rubbed the wide tip of his dick against her clit before slowly entering Althea. She let out ragged breaths with her mouth unhinged. Erik licked and kissed all over Althea’s neck all while his hips were pistoning in and out of Althea’s pussy. The entire bed would moved, the brass headboard banging against the wall covered in elegant ornate French Victorian wallpaper that is a black and red color. 

“Fuck, dis pussy is so tight,” He whispers. 

“It’s so much dick, Master, so much dick!!!!” Althea pushes at Erik’s chest but he wasn’t going anywhere, “Jesus! it is filling me up!! unh, FUCK!”

“Ya better take all dis dick I’m giving ya girl,” He whispered to her, “Don’t run from me, I’ll hold ya down and fuck ya some more.” 

Mama Dalma moaned from his words before bringing her fingers to her mouth to taste herself. With her spit covered fingers she rubs her clit, bringing one leg up so she could have a better reach. She could only imagine the pleasure Althea was experiencing. The more Erik fucked her the more possessive Mama Dalma became. Althea was taking all that dick, dick that belonged to Mama Dalma. Erik’s stroke was dangerous. The muscles in his back rippled and flexed each time he entered Althea. 

“Ya making me cum again!” Althea twisted her head to the side, tears falling from her eyes, and moaning into the pillow beneath her, “UNH GOD!” 

Erik’s inky black irises dilated when he saw Althea’s jugular vein protrude from her neck. While stroking her, Erik takes a single finger to trace her vein before extending his fangs from simply flexing his jaw, startling her by coming down on her with speed, his teeth sinking right into her vein. Like a pipe bursting, Althea’s blood spilled into Erik’s mouth. His eyes rolled and the grip he had on her hair became painful and uncomfortable. Her screams turned into scared cries as her hands attempted to push him off of her. 

“Yes, feed, mi child!!! take her blood!!!” Mama Dalma felt overwhelming joy and lust instead of a building orgasm since she is the undead. Mama Dalma sucked the lubrication from her fingers before speeding over to the bed. She moves Erik’s dreadlocks out of the way so she could sink her teeth into Althea’s right breast. The fleshy area was like a cushion for Mama Dalma’s lips while she fed off of her. Althea could do nothing but cry. Erik continues to fuck her until his body tingled and the same overwhelming lust that Mama Dalma felt blasted through him. It was strange and intriguing to not ejaculate but still very powerful like an orgasm. It hit him so hard that the hand in Althea’s hair yanked some of her strands out. Blood began to soak the sheets and Althea’s body soon became lifeless. 

“FUCK,” Erik stares at Althea’s dead body. Her blood was so rich and sweet Erik couldn’t help but to lick and suck on his fingers. His dick was standing straight up and pointed out with deep veins and a tight sack. 

“I’m gonna suck and fuck deh sweet dick so good, Erik,” Mama Dalma grabs Erik’s dick, her fingers barely touching, “Oooh, it’s so damn thick.” 

“I bet ya been wanting to suck dis dick for a long time...wut took ya so long? Huh?” He says with a sly smirk. 

“Eva since I first laid eyes on yuh.”

Mama Dalma forces Erik to the bed with her superior strength. Erik’s fangs retracted instantly when Mama Dalma started stroking his dick. Erik hisses while taking his strong hand to rip Mama Dalma’s dress to shreds, revealing her toned body with small breasts. Mama Dalma lowered her head between Erik’s legs and with her superhuman strength and stamina, Mama Dalma tightened her jaws and bobbed her head expertly to fill her entire throat with his dick. She would suck him all the way down to the base and back up. 

“Fuck, kenbe souse m’tankou sa,” Erik closes his eyes, “sa kaka santi li tèlman bon,” He spoke gruffly between moans. He was telling Mama Dalma how good it felt and that she needed to keep sucking on him. Erik felt a pinprick on the side of his shaft that made him bite down on his pouty bottom lip, drawing blood. Mama Dalma was tasting the blood from the throbbing and protruding veins of his meaty length. Erik instantly healed from her bite. 

“Yuh are one sexy man, Erik, and yuh are mine. I always get wuh I want. I will take it by force if I have to. Deh dick is mine, yuh hear me? Alllllllllll Mine.” 

Mama Dalma couldn’t be stopped the more she gave Erik fellatio. Suck long, suck hard, and suck often. That’s exactly what she will do every chance she gets. With Erik’s newfound strength, his dick was practically impenetrable; unyielding; tremendously solidified. That pleasure stick will have Mama Dalma feeling intimacy stronger than she ever did in her early vampire life. It was different at first for Mama Dalma to be sexual but not in a reproductive way. Since discovering Erik, she felt the strongest sexual lust in her 175 years of being a vampire. Mama Dalma mounted Erik speedily, grabbing his dick at the base before lowering herself on him. 

None of the sex is quite as good as vampire sex, though, which can happen at the astonishing rhythm of 120 bpm while simultaneously devouring one’s neck and making your eyes roll back into your head. If they go from a base level, vampires create a hole in the neck where there wasn’t one before. It’s a devirginization—breaking the hymen, creating blood and then drinking the virginal blood. And there’s something sharp, the fang, which is probing and penetrating and moving into it which is pretty sexy. 

As she bounced on his dick Erik fed from her neck, tasting the very blood that heightened the feeling like ecstasy. His strong, powerful hips met hers in sort of a race to see who was in charge. Mama Dalma clawed at Erik’s chest with her sharp nails, creating deep claw marks that healed instantly. Her nimble body moved at a swift speed above Erik causing him to grip her hips to try and keep her in place. They were fucking so hard and fast that the bed banged against the floor loudly. The mind-blowing passion was most exhilarating while feeding. It’s not simply “feeding” but it’s sex, breathing, having the best dinner you’ve ever had, feeling the life force of another filling you and making your flagging essence re-surge with vitality. It bolstered your sense of well-being as well as gave life to your body, mind, and demon spirit. 

The sensation of feeding is akin to an orgasm, but even more powerfully so in some instances, particularly when properly hungry, which is why stopping can be an issue for vampires. That’s what Erik was experiencing. He lets out a guttural rasp, gasping for air until Mama Dalma finally stops. Erik sucked on her nipples and trailed kisses all over her flesh before forcing her head down so he could nibble on her lips with his fangs. Her moans were stuck in her throat the more Erik fed from her lips. She couldn’t get enough of it, and neither could he. 

_____________________

After three months of torture, kill, and sex, Erik became concerned for his family’s welfare when a pox epidemic broke out. Just when he was finally accepting his vampire life, Erik was soon reminded of his mortal family and how they must be struggling to survive. Maybe the faith of the Vodou Religion kept them stable but this epidemic was killing hundreds of people. After Mama Dalma and Erik had sex at their home in the shack, Mama Dalma went to ground earlier and that gave Erik an opportunity to check in on his family. He speeds over to his forest home, peeking through the trees to see how things were. It was dark inside, almost lifeless. Erik became afraid and made the risky choice to approach the home. Out in the clearing now, Erik walked towards the home, nervous and afraid for his family to see him like this. 

“Ricardo?! Ricardo se ke ou?!” 

It was Justine, standing on the porch wearing a poor Victorian style dress made from cotton with her hair wrapped in a tigon. She looked exhausted with dark circles under her eyes. She was 30-years-old now, and his daughters would be 8-years-old. Fabiola’s birthday had just passed in August, she turned 56-years-old. All of the time had slipped away. Living as a vampire, time wasn’t important with the exception of when dawn was approaching. Justine had lost weight, her fullness that Erik loved no longer there. 

“Kote ou te ye?!!” She yells while running down the front steps to their home. She wrapped her arms around Erik’s neck, pulling him down into a tight, suffocating hug. Erik’s nose landed in her hair and it smelled earthy, floral, sweet, and relaxing. This was the scent he remembered. It took all of his will power not to sink his teeth into her neck. They stayed like that for some time while she weeped into his cotton shirt. 

“Ti fi Yo? Manman m?” Erik asks, pulling Justine away by her upper arms so that he could look at her. He asked where the girls and his mother were. Justine broke down crying again, her knees buckling. Erik held her tightly while a crease formed in his brow. 

“Ricardo, ou ta dwe retounen!!!! Poukisa ou kite nou!!!!” Justine attempted to push Erik over and over but he wasn’t moving. 

Hearing Justine refer to him as Ricardo felt strange. He almost forgot that was his birth name. 

“I had to leave...for ya safety...dem white men would have killed all of ya.” Erik squeezed her tightly to calm her down.

“Fabiola...li mouri.” Justine’s voice was barely audible when she told him the news. Erik felt like he was dying all over again. Fabiola was dead. 

“How?” He asks, holding back his tears. 

“Fever... a year ago... couldn’t save her...she died in her sleep,” Justine’s words halted as she began to cry again, “Her last dyin’ wish was to see ya again but ya never came back!” Justine looked at him like she was looking at a stranger, “Ya look so different, Ricardo.” 

“Da girls, Justine, I want to see dem,” Erik says. 

“Ya too late,” Justine fought for oxygen in his arms. 

Erik’s eyes grew wide and he stormed past Justine and into the house. There, lying in a coffin, was Rose Fabiola Dupoux and Felicie Ines Dupoux. They are dressed in cotton gowns, one purple and one pink with floral crowns and white dress shoes. Their coily hair is long and luscious, even in death. The last time he saw them they were five years old, running through the little garden in their yard, playing hide-n-seek. They were covered in pox that left nasty scars on their beautiful melanin skin. Erik couldn’t stop the bloody tears that began to flow. He walked up to their wooden coffins, his hands reaching out to touch them. Erik dropped to his knees, loud, uncontrollable sobs filling the room as his body shook. 

“I tried, Ricardo...dere was nothin’ I could do,” Justine kneeled by his side, resting her head against his shoulder, “Dese precious girls…I prayed to Papa Ghede for help but nothing worked. I’ve exhausted all of my tears…I accept dat dem girls have to go...Marie is dead, ya mother is dead...I had no one to turn to.”

Erik stands, walking up to each of his daughters to place a final kiss to their heads. He felt disgusting. If he wouldn’t have chosen this life, he would have been here for his daughters, he would have been here for mother, and he would have been here to comfort his grieving wife. He couldn’t begin to understand what Justine was going through. She assumed that Erik had perished when he left their home to go with Augusto. Justine clings to Erik so tightly she was afraid he would slip through her fingers. Erik tried to hide his face from her but Justine’s delicate fingers smoothed his dreads from his face so that she could give him a kiss. It’s been three years. 

“Ricardo, ya so cold,” She says before her eyes fell upon the bloody tears spilling from his eyes. Frightened, Justine practically leaps away from him before grabbing a shotgun that used to be Erik’s. She pointed it at Erik’s back with her shaky hands before cocking the gun.

“Who are ya?! Wut did ya do with my husband? Ya not Ricardo, ya are a demon!!!! A zombie!!!” Ricardo turns, his hands up in surrender. The blood tears made him look like a monster. 

“Justine, it’s me...it’s Ricardo,” Erik walks towards her, “I won’t hurt ya. I just wanted to check on ya to make sure everything was fine. I can’t stay, not like dis-

“DON’T COME ANY CLOSER!!!” Justine yells, “I WILL SHOOT YA!!!”

“Justine-

Pop! 

Justine shoots Erik in the chest. He stumbles back with disbelief that she just shot him before his eyes went down to stare at his wound. The bullet wound healed immediately causing the bullet fragments to fall on the floor. Justine drops the gun, screaming at the top of her lungs while running towards the door. 

“Justine! Wait!” Erik was right on her tail but his maker, Mama Dalma unexpectedly appeared at the door. She grabs Justine, pulling her towards her and holding her hostage with her hands, yanking the tigon from her head and grabbing her by her hair, pushing her down to her knees. Erik’s fangs extended, ready to attack Mama Dalma. Justine gawked at the sight of his fangs. She was ready to scream but Mama Dalma brought her to her feet speedily, wrapping a single hand around her neck. 

“If yuh so much as scream, I will rip yuh throat out,” She spoke between clenched teeth before showing Justine her fangs, “I don’t care if yuh are Ricardo’s wife or not, I will FUCKIN’ kill yuh.” Mama Dalma snarled in Justine’s face, scaring her half to death. Justine was paralyzed with fear. 

“Tia, let her go...now,” Erik says as anger stirred within him. 

“Yuh planned on leaving mi? Erik?” 

Panic surged through Justine, “Erik?! Who is Erik?!” 

“Yuh hear deh? She wants to know who Erik is…tell her, Erik, tell her who deh is,” The corners of her mouth quirked up into an evil smile, “TELL HER!!!!” 

“I’m Erik, Justine,” Erik spoke to Justine but his eyes were focused on Mama Dalma. 

“So, if yuh Erik, why would Yuh come back after I told Yuh not to? Dis isn’t yuh life anymore. When yuh left yuh home that night, yuh left Ricardo behind.”

“I-I don’t understand,” Justine’s stomach clenched. 

“Of course yuh wouldn’t understand, child, it’s alright, yuh won’t see Erik anymore after dis...Erik, yuh know wuh yuh have to do, right?”

“Tia-

“DO IT. It’s either deh, or I kill her.” 

“I can’t do dat to her-

“So killin’ her is better? Fine,” Tia was on Justine fast, Feeding on her viciously from her neck. Justine’s throat tightened and she could no longer scream. 

“STOP!” Erik speeds over to Mama Dalma only for her to push him off of the porch. Erik fell painfully against the ground. 

“AS YUH MAKER-

“ENOUGH!!!” Erik yelled so loud his voice could probably be heard a mile away, “Awrite, I’ll do it...I’ll glamor her.” 

Tia drops Justine carelessly, “See? Wasn’t so hard, was it?” 

Justine’s body felt numb and the blood froze in her veins. Erik approached her, his eyes locking with hers, holding her gaze before finally connecting with her brain. Justine was transfixed under Erik’s spell. He tried to hold back his tears but they disobeyed him. 

“Justine,” Erik strokes her face with his fingertips, “Ya never saw me, ya never saw her, I am dead, have been for da past three years. Ya will move on with ya life, start a new one hopefully because ya deserve it.”

“Yes,” Justine’s pensive eyed saddened Erik. 

“Now, I want ya to go on upstairs and get some rest. Rose and Felicie will be buried in da St. Louis Cemetery. Ya can go visit dem anytime ya want.” 

“I’d like that,” Justine says. 

“I know, baby,” Erik kisses her forehead. He brings his fingertip to one of his fangs, pricking it before bringing it down to the bite mark on her neck, rubbing his blood into the wound to heal it, “Everything will be just fine.” 

Erik stared at Justine one final time before she stood up, walking into the house and up the stairs. Erik’s temper sparked again when he noticed Mama Dalma smiling like the entire thing was a joke.

“If you would have killed her, I would have ripped ya fucking head off,” Erik says.

“With what strength more than mine? Yuh can be angry all yuh please but dis needed to be done. Now, yuh have no reason to come back here.” 

“Ya evil, ya have no remorse, I’m exactly like ya. Didn’t care to check on my family, I let my manman die, my babies die, Nothin’ will change dat.” Erik was defeated. 

“Like I told Yuh, yuh are a vampire now. Deh won’t EVER understand deh. Keep this up, and yuh will end up dead. If anotha vampire catches yuh acting weak deh will make an example out of yuh. It’s okay...I have a lot more to teach yuh. Now, let’s bury deh babies and leave for good. Deh is deh last time I’m telling yuh.” 

“Erik Stevens,” A single bloody tear fell from Erik’s eye. 

“When yuh bury deh babies, yuh burying Ricardo Dupoux. As yuh maker, I command yuh to never come back here, and never go back to deh cemetery. Do yuh hear mi, child?” 

Erik simply nods his head before walking into his old home to grab the coffins that held his deceased daughters. What this vampire life has in store for him Erik could only hope it would get better. 

[mickeymouse-moshpit]

street lights, people

A/N: Hello, kind readers of this fic that I have taken entirely too long to update. I’m so sorry for the wait! And I also have to apologize because there is a whole first part of this that is stored on my computer, which is currently in the mail for repairs. I will post that part as well once it’s back, just please hold on and know that 1) there’s definitely context to being on Fennec’s bike in it and 2) there will be spicy things in the next part. Anyway, uh, if there’s typos I’m very sorry, and enjoy!

Description: Fennec and peds!Reader go on a date

Warnings: Some brief verbal harassment, brief description of dissociating, a little angst if you squint hard enough, Fennec and peds!Reader doing their thing 

Rating: T

Word count: 2.7K

January 24th 

Read part one here

You followed her out and down the lined path, hands sitting in the pockets of your jacket to keep warm. She threaded her arm through yours, and led you down the street to a book shop of all places.

“I remembered you telling me about that new series you wanted to read, something about gay witches? And you’re always talking about how much you want to go to the bookstore but you never do. So, go browse. I want to see what your process looks like.”

“Th—that’s really thoughtful. I don’t know that I really have a true process, but yeah let’s go look!” You opened the door for her, a light going on inside you as you got your first waft of bookstore smell: the paper, the ink. You got the first wave of the noise: the low music playing in the background, the people there talking in hushed tones. You couldn’t make out any conversations happening, could barely hear that there were lyrics in the music. You stopped for a moment, scanning the layout of the room. Your eyes landed first on the display of bookmarks and postcards, making a mental note to get one or two of each to remember this little town so you could find it one day. But then your train of thought halted: could you come here alone?

Best not to dwell.

Your eyes resumed their scanning, noting the different sections. You wandered to the right, letting your gaze drift over the painting beside the door. It was line art of two bodies intertwined, splashed with color to resemble a galaxy where they met. The notecard below it gave the title and artist’s name. And a price. You were struck by how nice it would look on your art wall. But that was for another day.

You started your first pass through the stacks, letting your eyes skate over the spines of the books, pausing to read the note cards when they gave a recommendation from one of the workers. Your fingers started to take on a mind of their own, catching on books here and there, bringing them out for you to investigate. Every couple of them, you would open to the first page, let the author’s words try to entice you. You put most of them back, but a green paperback one with a bent cover stayed behind. You held it close as you continued on, pacing with no purpose at all. If someone didn’t know you, they would think you had a system, but really you were just letting yourself be on autopilot. That is, until you got to the section that housed the series you had read about and wanted.

“This is it!” You hoped your whisper would convey your excitement to Fennec. You had been watching book recommendation videos and this series had come up, promising both a love story and adventure. “I hope th—they do! They’ve got both!”

You plucked both the paperback and hardcover from the shelves, adding them to your little stash. Your small smile would not leave your face.

Fennec watched as you dragged yourself away from the section, mentally patting herself on the back for this idea. You looked so happy, at peace. If she was a part of that? She would consider herself both clever and immensely lucky. As she followed you back to one of the sections you had drifted through, she watched your perusing turn into a hunt. You furrowed your brow as you sank down to kneel and scan for what she wasn’t quite sure. She pulled two more books from the shelf.

“Have you read this one?” She held up a copy of a book called Circe.

“No, but someone at work was talking about it the other day.” She hoped you wouldn’t be disappointed, and wasn’t disappointed when you slid the book back into its place with a mischievous look. Fennec’s mind went straight into the gutter for a moment, imagining you in a very different situation but with the same look.

“Good, you’ll borrow my copy.” There was no arguing, it was a fact. She would.

You stood up again, still holding onto the other book. You were off again, and while she thought you clutching four books to your chest was possibly the cutest thing she had ever seen, you were going to drop one if you kept getting distracted. When you stopped again, she held her hands out.

“Here, let me carry them. You use your hands to browse.”

You nodded once and sank down again, grabbing one of the recommended titles and popping up again. You paused, before setting it on the pile Fennec was holding, warmth building in your face as she gave you one of her smiles.

You set off with one more stop in mind. The waiting room library at your office was lacking in chapter books as of late. You let your feet carry you to the children’s section.

“What are we doing here? I didn’t take you for the Warrior Cats type. “

“The selection of chapter books in my waiting room is looking a little sparse here lately. I want to see what the kids are into so I can update the wishlist.”

Fennec looked at you like you had suddenly turned purple with polka dots and sprouted antennae.

“I have a bookshelf in the waiting room, and I always make it clear to kids and parents that the books on it are meant to be read, cherished, read again, both while waiting and when they go home, with no expectation of return. The Little Golden Books usually do come back, just like most of the other books meant for the teeny-tinies. The chapter books get sparse and don’t tend to come back, but I like it that way. It means I’ve got another reader who gets to learn about the magic of words.”

“But where do the books come from?”

“Well, at first it was just me. There were some parents who made it very clear when I mentioned the shelf that they were perfectly capable of providing their kids with books and how dare I assume otherwise. There were others that you could tell were extremely grateful. There were also a few that had a problem with it but not for any good reason but I’m sure you know what kind of parents I’m getting at.”

She did.

“Then one day I was in the little shop in town and one of the little ones who had started on chapter books saw me and ran up, telling me all about how she had saved her allowance and she was able to get the sequel to the book she had gotten from me. The owner of the shop heard it, and when I went to buy the book I had picked out along with some chapter books for the waiting room, he told me he would let me start a wishlist and he would put it by the register for people to see and maybe buy one or two.”

“Do you usually get what you ask for?”

“It depends on the time of year. During the holidays people get more generous so it’s time to update the list. Hence the reading castle.” You gestured to the structure before you, an alcove that had a castle facade and was filled with still more books. “And the wall of chapter books.”

Before she could formulate a response, you had pulled out your phone and started making a list. Fennec watched you with an emotion she wasn’t sure how to name. The earnest way you took on your task had her pulling out her own phone while you weren’t watching to send a message to the garage group chat. When you had finished, you brushed a hand over her shoulder as you walked by.

You wandered to your last stop: the display at the front. You picked out a pack of bookmarks that were little magnetic trees before turning your attention to the display of postcards. You chose one that was a picture of the gazebo in the middle of town at night, surrounded by twinkle lights with “wish you were here” in small text at the bottom.

You walked up to the register and Fennec plopped your pile of finds on the counter.

“Did you find everything you were looking for?” The older salesperson behind the register had half a smirk on his face as he queried you. “I haven’t seen someone quite as methodical as you, even covered the section for children.”

You weren’t sure if the sarcastic tone was real or meant as a lighthearted joke, but either way you felt your cheeks warm again, and not in a good way. You wondered for a moment if the ground would open up and swallow you whole. You felt Fennec’s arm wrap its way around your torso again as the salesperson started ringing up the books.

“Being thorough is one of the best things about her. And this is just me, but I think it would be kind of nice if my kid’s pediatrician knew enough about what their media looked like to be able to talk to them at their level about things other than their health.”

“Oh so she’s a big kid is what you’re saying? What, does she play with dolls, or are toys more for the bedroom?” That definitely wasn’t meant in a kind way.

Fennec’s arm tightened around you before you got the chance to just slip away and out the door, as if she knew that was something you might do.

“I would stop talking about them if I were you.” Her voice was low, had taken on a dangerous edge that matched what others saw in her leather jacket.

He got the hint, hurrying up with the transaction. When the final total came up, you reached into your pocket, not really feeling anything for that moment or registering the number that flashed in your general direction. Before you could get your card liberated, Fennec was already sliding hers into the chip reader. You wanted to protest, wanted to tell her it was too much, but the interaction was a sea witch that had stolen your voice and you could only look on as the books and other small items were wrapped and put into a bag and Fennec was turning you in a circle to get you out of the shop.

You weren’t even aware that your feet had moved until you were in front of her bike and she had distributed the books into the two saddle bags. She faced you and put her hands on your shoulders.

“Are you okay?”

You looked at her, answering her question with the question mark that had seemingly etched itself on your face.

“Hello? Earth to Doc? Are you in there?” She gave your shoulders a little shake, before she wrapped you in her arms. You finally felt like you could take a deep breath again as you rested your head in the crook of her neck, letting the pressure she was providing ground you again.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered into the collar of her sweater.

“You have nothing to be sorry for. He should be sorry. If he hadn’t stopped talking, I would have made him sorry.”

“I wanted to stop you from paying, it was too much.”

“No. I wanted to do that, it was the plan from the beginning.”

“Really?” You pulled back slightly, peeking at her, searching her face but not having much luck in the low light.

“Yes really. Now, I had something else planned, do you want to know what it is so you can decide if you still want to do it?”

You considered it, but the phantom hollow in your chest and the way your arms and legs still didn’t feel like they belonged to you gave you your answer.

“I want to know, but not yet. Keep it secret, show me next time. I’ve got my own idea though. Will you take me home? I want to show you the Books.”

***

You didn’t want to let go of her, but you needed to if you were going to go inside where it was warm. So you did. When she had taken the books out and put them back in their bag, you headed for the three steps that led up to the door of your half of the duplex. You unlocked the door, nearly dropping the keys because your hands were so cold. You caught them before Fennec could tease you about it.

You clicked on the light in the entryway, lighting the way as she took a few steps inside again. You took the bag from her, and nodded to your left. Behind the stairs to the loft, there was a doorway. You walked through it and to the right, knowing the room in the darkness. You stepped on the clicker for the floor lamp, bathing the room in a soft glow. You walked over to the electric fireplace that added some extra heat to the room, switching it on.

You went back to where she was standing in the doorway, like she wasn’t quite sure what to do with her hands. You took them in yours and brought her in.

Her eyes widened as she took in the space.

The room screamed comfort. All four walls were covered by bookshelves that reached the ceiling, with two interruptions. The first was around the fireplace, if you could even call it that. There was a painting in front of it, but her eyes were too busy wandering to take it in just yet. Her gaze drifted to the window, where either you or the previous owners had built a seat large and plush enough to recline in. While that should have been the star of the room, it wasn’t.

In front of the fireplace was a massive sectional sofa. She was sure it had to have a pull out option you were taking advantage of because it looked more like a bed-sofa hybrid with the way the middle was seemingly filled to the brim with throw pillows and faux-fur blankets.

You stood watching her take it in, as she eventually started looking at the books lining the shelves, punctuated by the odd piece of memorabilia. There was such a variety, all alphabetized, with the only delineation by genre she could see being poetry and prose. As she browsed, you placed your books on the window seat, and from under it produced two stamps: one to mark the books as yours, and one to put a place for people who borrowed them to sign. Others always asked if it was to make sure they came back, but you always replied with no, it was to make sure people could see if they had borrowed them before. You put the books onto the rolling cart that already had a small pile to be put away. Some of them were new, some you had reread and needed to return.

Task complete, you perched on the back of the couch to watch her.

“I should start referring to you as a dragon. You’ve got quite the hoard, baby.” Her words were quiet, wrapped with kindness. “It’s impressive. Thank you for showing me this part of you.”

“I just really like them.” Your smile was growing as she got closer to you. You stood and wrapped yourself around her again. “Does that make you the maiden in need of rescue?”

“Oh, no, you can keep me here as long as you want. Besides, don’t you know the dragon needs saving too sometimes?”

“In that case…” You paused, stealing yourself. “Would you stay a while? I can make tea, we can read, if you’re okay with you could do that pressure thing again?”

“You mean will I hold you close, let you hide your face in my neck for a minute again? Let you whisper things you don’t think I’ll hear but I will anyway?”

You nodded once.

“In that case, I’ll do ‘that pressure thing’ for as long as you need me to. But you have to let me try out this couch nest thing because it looks amazing.”

“Of course, but the first rule of the dragon’s lair is this: no jackets.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

More author’s notes: if you’re curious about what series peds!Reader was looking for, it’s These Witches Don’t Burn and its sequel by Isabel Sterling. She wants Fennec to read Circe by Madeline Miller, and she bought The Song of Achilles, also by Madeline Miller

Tagging: @phoenixhalliwell @promiscuoussatan @maybege @jangofctts 

[from-the-clouds]

Hold Out - Marty Byrde x Reader

Masterlist

Summary: Reader has worked for Marty since the Byrde's first moved to the Ozarks, and finds him vulnerable and alone after a fight with Wendy.

Words: 1.8k

A/N: I warned ya’ll I’d write something for this show!! im currently obsessed, so please enjoy this. i have felt badly for marty since season 1, and feel like he just needs a love interest who's soft and gentle with him??? i have a whole world planned around these two if you'd like to see more. i know this is a very niche fandom but if you like this at all, please let me know! it was fun to write.

**********

She wasn’t sure what time it was when she stumbled into the clearing. Well past sundown, but not quite midnight. Her arms and legs stung where she’d been scratched by thorns and branches faltering through the forest. It’d been hours since she’d last heard from him. Each call that went unanswered made her more and more frantic. It was unlike him.

After searching all over town, all the spots she’d usually find him when he was hard to track down, she’d come up with nothing. And she had her phone pressed to her ear with Wendy’s number dialed in before she thought of one last place she hadn’t checked.

Gravel spit from the back of her tires as Y/N turned too quickly off the road and parked her car, throwing open the door and nearly sprinting through the woods to the small meadow.

She’d been going here since she was a little kid. It was her own little park she’d stumbled upon one day ambling around town. Very few locals knew about it, let alone any tourists. Tall grass and wildflowers nipped at her knees along with the mosquitoes, and stars glittered against the black abyss above, the moonlight reflecting off the lake. And despite the late hour, she could see everything, including Marty, standing with his back to her, toes over the edge of a rock that hung over the lake at least a hundred feet below.

Her heart lurched. “Marty,” Y/N said his name before she could stop herself, concerned for a moment she might startle him into the unthinkable. But when he didn’t so much as glance over his shoulder in response, she wondered if he’d even heard her.

Treading forward lightly, she paused a foot or two behind him, carefully reaching out. “Hey,” she said, fingers clasping around his wrist, above his expensive watch. He didn’t take the hint, didn’t budge, didn’t look at her, eyes still on the lake. It rippled placidly, lapping against the jagged rocks below them, but he was looking beyond its tranquil appearance, the emptiness beneath the surface that could swallow him whole, like he wanted it to.

Despite the chill of the evening, he was still dressed for work, in a button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up, the moon reflecting off his dress shoes. She stepped a little closer to the edge alongside him, just to see his profile.

A slight tug on his wrist prompted him to step backwards, and she released a breath she didn’t know she was holding. Marty’s chest began heaving, like he just realized where he was standing, his eyes shifting towards her like he finally noticed she was there.

“What are you doing out here?” she asked without thinking, and it was a stupid question, she knew.

He didn’t answer, and she didn’t expect him to. In the dark, she guided him away from the ledge, one hand between his shoulders. Marty tripped over himself, eyes red-rimmed and glazed over. He’d been drinking, or crying. Or maybe both.

He didn’t lose his cool. Even though it seemed they were always getting the short end of the stick, always scrambling to clean up a mess, ten steps behind where they should be. Despite this, he was always a force. Steady. But not now.

Of course she didn’t like being out of the loop. And he did a good job of communicating with her. So whatever this was, whatever could have caused this, she’d almost rather be ignorant to.

“How’d you find me?” was all he asked, and despite the distress on his face his voice was characteristically even. There was an old rotting picnic table they sat down at, with her next to him, looking over the lake, out at the pitch dark sky and the glimmering lights in the distance of a few boats still on the water.

“It took some time,” she said. “I looked everywhere.”

“You should be in bed,” he said flatly.

“Well I’m not,” she chewed on her lower lip, taking a deep breath, her chest catching on the ache in her heart.

“Did you need something?” he asked, his voice had the same frost she saw in the air when she exhaled, and she felt it clutch around her chest, her words coming out choked and stuttered.

“I- I didn’t want….the things I said the last time we talked...to be the last thing I ever said to you...”

“They wouldn’t have been,” he said, although not so convincingly. He still refused to look at her, his eyes never leaving the horizon.

“Are you sure?” she asked, feeling a bit more emboldened.  “Look, you don’t have to tell me what’s going on, or what you’re doing here. But I’m not stupid.”

He didn’t answer her, just leaned forward, elbow to his knee as he rubbed his temple between his thumb and forefinger. She could see clouds rolling in, the wind picking up. It was supposed to storm, and she didn’t want either of them to get caught up in bad weather.

“How’d you get here?” she asked. “I didn’t see your car on my way in.”

“I walked,” he said flatly. They were miles away from anything, let alone his house.

“Let me give you a ride home,” she said. All she wanted to do was help him. He’d helped her before, so many times, probably when he didn’t want to. So she knew she had to do this for him. She wanted to. Even if she couldn’t give him what he really needed.

“I can’t go home right now,” he muttered into his hand.

“Then stay at my place,” she said softly, she felt tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. She hated herself for feeling the way she did about him. Marty was a criminal. He’d made her one, too. But she was stuck on him, for some inexplicable reason. The only man who’d ever truly seen her. And right now, he looked so broken.

Surprisingly, he didn’t argue.

By the time they got to the car, she could hear the thunder rumbling in the distance, and the rain had started to come down.

The ride home went quickly. She was wet and shivering. Neither of them uttered a word and she was partly thankful for it, though with each moment of silence she felt more and more desperate to know what was wrong.

Marty had the decency to pull off his shoes at her front door, sitting on the couch in her living room while she put on some hot water for tea and changed into dry clothes. When she returned to her living room with the mug, towels and a blanket, she found him staring blankly ahead, one elbow resting on the edge of the couch.

He started when she pressed the mug into his free hand, and she frowned as she sat down next to him.

“Are you staying up with me?” he asked, turning to her as she tucked her legs underneath her on the middle cushion.

“If you want me to,” she said, leaning against the back of the couch.

Marty didn’t answer, he took a sip of his tea and then grimaced, abandoning it on the side table next to him. That meant yes. In his never ending quest to remain unreadable, she’d figured out a few things in the years she’d known him.

“Do you want to tell me what’s going on?” she prompted.

“I got into an argument with Wendy,” he said flatly.

In the time it’d taken her to drive him here, he seemed to have pulled himself together enough to be back on the defense, much more collected than before. “That’s all?” she asked, skeptical.

He shrugged. “You know everything else there is to know.”

And most of what he’d been through was enough to make anyone crack.

“I’m sorry,” she said softly. She knew things between him and Wendy had always been tense, but she always assumed it was just because of work. They didn’t seem to really love each other, but it was none of her business. It was probably better not to press.

“I’ve only ever wanted to get us out of this mess,” he said, shaking his head. “And she….well we both...have only gotten in deeper.”

“I know,” she said softly. Marty buried his head in his hands, hunching forward. Tentatively, she reached out, placing her hand at the base of his neck, then slowly working her thumb against the knots she could feel rippling underneath the skin of his shoulders. Marty exhaled, lifted his head up from his hands to look at her, finally.

His normally steely blues were rimmed red and glassy. Whether he’d been crying or not, the strain was evident on his face, somewhere between the dark circles that hung beneath his eyes and his sunken cheeks. Tense was an understatement, and the constant pressure the past few years had taken their toll. It’d been awhile since she’d been this close to him, and she could see the gray in his hair, sprouting up around his ears and along his hairline, the stubble on his jaw.

“Is there anything I can do?” she asked, near pleading, desperate to provide some sort of solace. She never felt the need to fill empty space with words, but she was scared for him. But at the same time, she felt she couldn’t be enough to comfort him.

He answered her with a sad smile. His hand rose to clasp her own, still resting at his shoulder. Gooseflesh rose on her arm as she was drawn closer, and if this were any other man, she’d expect him to kiss her.

Y/N reached out, wrapping her arms around his shoulders, pulling him close. It was impulsive, and she expected him to jolt away, at first. He was warm, his shirt still damp from the rain. His arms wrapped around her torso, she felt his steady breath on her neck, his head tucked under her chin.

“This is enough,” he whispered.

The rain came down steadily outside, thunder rumbling above, and she closed her eyes. She’d stay this way as long as he needed her. It was a long time, then, she only realized, when his breathing became light and even and she, too, drifted off.

When she woke up the next day, alone on her couch with a blanket draped carefully over her, she knew what to expect from Marty. He’d carry on like it never happened. Like she hadn’t let her lips brush over his temple, like he hadn’t whispered ‘thank you’ before he fell asleep in her arms. And she thought maybe it would be better off for her to believe it’d all been a dream.