#that evolve into full on body horror

[creppersfunpalooza]

Nothing to Celebrate

(Rosé and Adonis writing drabble because i felt silly)

it’s not that bad because it’s before rosé’s whole transformation thing and all of the more serious stuff between them but uhmmm it still makes me want to tear at adonis soooo

CW/TW: Mentions of religion and religious themes (Catholicism), religious trauma, cult/shunning implications, invalidation, and a teensy bit of manipulation.

————————————————————————

“I just don’t get it.”

“Hm?” Roe looked up at Don, temporarily taking his attention off of the half-decorated tree.

“I mean, I don’t get why you’d wanna remind yourself of such horrible memories. It doesn’t exactly seem healthy, love.” He continued, scrunching his nose at the angel settled on the top. “And it’s not exactly… You know, real. What’s the point in celebrating it?”

Roe sighed and went back to wrapping the popcorn strings around the fir branches. “I don’t know. Call it silly if you want, but it’s comforting to me.” He hummed, still focused on the tree. “It’s about forgiveness and love. If someone was willing to die for my sins, then that means I was worth saving.”

“Yeah, but that didn’t happen. Sure, some guy claiming to be a prophet probably got himself executed, but it doesn’t actually mean anything. It’s just… I don’t know. It feels offensive.” He huffed, crossing his arms. “You want a god to love you, and I’m right here. Forgiveness and all. Look, I think it’s doing you more harm than good to put all this effort into something so pointless.” Don scowled.

He stared at Don incredulously. “Does this upset you that much? It’s not really a worship thing. It’s about what it means to me. It would be ridiculous for me to pray to a being I know doesn’t exist.” Roe murmured, setting down the garland and making his way over to Don, sitting next to him on the old couch. “I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings though. It wasn’t my intention.” He gently set his hand on Don’s shoulder, staring at him with a sweet expression. “I can take it down, if you want to. But I’d still like to celebrate some traditions with you. I understand if you don’t want to though.”

Don paused for a moment, but his scowl had long since faded. “I don’t know. I don’t want anything to do with the holiday. It’s stupid. I just wish you could see that.”

“Can I tell you something?”

“Sure. I’m done speaking anyways.”

“It was the only time of year they’d ever pretend that I was a normal person. It was nice to belong.” Roe lowered his voice. “It made me feel less alone, even if it was only a temporary thing.”

Don stared at him blankly. “And you still feel alone? Even with me?”

Roe sighed and held his tongue. “No, of course not, my dear.”

[polarspaz]

NikaEffect AU

While under the influence of Nika, Sanji gains some interesting powers, but the most notable ability he obtains is his "Allure" The best way I can explain it, is like how Bugs Bunny gets so many of his enemies to play along with his hijinks. He can't outright control people, but he can overwhelm them and make them act in ways they never would.

A good example of this is when Sanji transforms for the first time.

Sanji and Zoro are bickering in the kitchen and everything seems normal until Sanji's heart starts to feel funny. He panics, thinking it might have something to do with his Germa genetics, but that fear is abruptly smothered by overwhelming joy.

It's intoxicating, he feels beyond drunk, and Sanji can't stop the laughter that starts spilling from his lips. He looks up to see Zoro frozen stiff in front of him, his face etched in slight horror and Sanji suddenly feels mischievous. He darts forward before Zoro can react and kicks him through the galley doors and onto deck of the Sunny.

He slides out after the Swordsman, grinning ear to ear in sheer delight, ignoring the alarm of the rest of the crew before going after Zoro again with another kick. He's trying to spar with the other man, but his new boost in abilities is making the fight very one sided. It's not helping ease the distressing amount of power that's now burning inside him.

"Boring!" Is the only warning Zoro gets before Sanji grabs his arms and spins. It takes a moment for Zoro to understand what is happening, but the fight has evolved into some kind of dance. His feet and body are moving in perfect tune with Sanji, like they've practiced this a thousand times before, but Zoro's never danced like this in his entire life.

It should disturb him more, not being in control of his body, but the sheer elation and joy coming from Sanji softens the fear. There's no malice to this, in fact it's kind of of enjoyable, being swept in this sheer high that's permeating from Sanji. It reminds him of bathing in the warm sun.

They only stop when Luffy declares he wants to dance too, and instead of snapping at him, Sanji just smiles wider, drops Zoro like a lead weight, before grabbing the Captain with a delighted chuckle. "Anything for my Mon cher capitaine!"

Zoro can only watch dumbfounded as Sanji pulls a flower from his hair, placing it between his teeth, and starts dancing with Luffy up in the sky. It's crazy to watch, especially with how Sanji takes full advantage of Luffy's ability to stretch, but it also shows that Luffy seems to be under the same effect Zoro was. Luffy couldn't dance to save his life, but there he was, pulling off moves he couldn't even comprehend with pure ease.

+Sanji other abilities include super speed, which he usually uses to make ludicrous large, delicious meals in seconds. (Yes, he is making the food cook faster too) -He can also float/fly. -The Nika power can last up to thirty minutes or an hour. When it's gone, Sanji is completely, and utterly wasted. He's emotionally numb and his body won't even move, meaning Zoro usually has to carry his ass to bed every time this happens.

-Why does this happen? No one knows. They try to find some kind of commonality to these sudden transformations but there seems to be no connecting factor, and for some reason, poor Sanji gets it the worse.

[thebad-lydrawn-sanses]

Killer's/Horror's Species (Homo Venator Carcharodon // Human Hunter Shark)

  Upper Half: cartilage and muscle, mostly

  Mouth: large mouth full of very sharp teeth (lined in red for easy viewing)

  Caudal (Tail) Fin: vertical

  Top Fins: dorsal fins (2)

  Side Fins: pectoral fins (4)

  Bottom Fin: anal fin (1)

  Variation 1: stops growing once an adult

  Variation 2: continues growing once an adult

  Both: grow from birth like sharks

  Both: ages only slightly faster than humans

  Diet: evolved to primarily eat humans (can digest other things)

  Extra Notes: no swim bladders, no gills

Dust/Cross's Species (Tristis Apparentia Anguilliformes // Sad-Looking Eel)

  everything is covered in mucus

  Below Upper Body: stomach

  dorsal fin (1)

  anal fin (1)

  Hair: oddly shaped fin (mimics hair)

  Mouth: eel teefers

  Face and Hands: fine motor controls

  Face: every facial expressions is purposeful/voluntary except for the pupil direction

  Eyes: rolled back eyes are the default

  False Thumbs: dewclaws, not thumbs

  Hunting: grab food and shove into mouth

  Woman 1: it- it looks human??

  Woman 2: WHY DO YOU HAVE A FACE, SIR? CEASE

  Eel: <- mermaid ancestor

  Evolution: eels split into anti-social and humanoid due to humans

Main/Stereotypical/Common Mermaid (Homo Venator Bivalvia // Human Hunter Clam)

  a beautiful, conventionally attractive HOLY SHIT

  Stem of Lure: grabs shit

  Body: clam creature

  Body: clam with teeth

  after hatching

  maturity (will never stop growing)

  Lure: <- stagnant face, but eyes latch onto movement (if the clam is big enough it'll eat the whole ship)

  live pirate reaction

Pirate 2: TELL HER TO GO AWAY

Pirate 1: FOR THE LAST FUCKING TIME I'M NOT A MERM-

Killer: HOW ARE YOU EATING THROUGH YOUR UPPER MOUTH THAT IS ILLEGAL

[stellocchia]

I absolutely adore the fanon Nightmare Gang found family stuff but... If one of these suckers gets sick they're gonna struggle.

Like, okay, I don't think Nightmare can reasonably get sick. It would make no sense for any virus, bacteria, or parasite to have evolved to survive and thrive in a goop that literally only he posses. He's fine.

But he's also gonna be completely useless when it comes to looking after his team. He would fall for the good old paranoia-inducing mistake of googling the symptoms and finding only death-sentences. And then he's just gonna be miserable and mope until his boys are better.

Killer meanwhile, would logically get sick, but also he would definitely hide it. Like, he was still conditioned by Chara to be a killing machine, no way my guy would just share such a big vulnerability. The others would only find out once he's already in really bad shape and most of the time they wouldn't find out at all.

On the other hand, while I imagine he'd be adept at setting broken bones and the general basic field medicine (again, because of his past he probably had to learn the basics to survive and remain functional), his solution to deal with any actual illness would be "just ignore it until it goes away".

I'm pretty sure Horror is technically already dead, so I don't know if he can get sick... Though I'd say probably? I mean, his body doesn't seem all too different from that of other monsters. Regardless, when sick I say he'd go in full survival mode, build a nest somewhere and be completely unapproachable unless you want your hand chewed off.

On the other hand, being the only one with a living brother and with both of them living in really harsh conditions, he probably has had to handle sickness rather often. Of course, with the lack of resources back in his universe, he mostly had to go for the basics, so his solution is a warm broth and some wet pieces of cloth. At most hot water to disinfect wounds. He's still at least doing something.

Cross is basically like Killer. He doesn't want to appear weak (with a father like his I highly doubt weakness was allowed) so he hides any minor sickness. Though I do think he'd tell, like, Horror if things are getting really bad. If anything, ao he doesn't become a burden for the others during missions.

And, again, much like Killer, I think he definitely would know field medicine. He was trained as a Royal Guard after all, they must have taught him things like that. But actual sickness? Yeah, they probably had medics that handled it when it got too severe. He doesn't know jack shit. His solution is just going to Horror and hoping he's got it handled.

Dust would straight up gaslight himself into thinking he's not sick and that's just his body punishing him for his sins. He literally would not believe it's anything else until someone (again, most likely Horror) pointed it out to him.

And the worst part is that, once he knows, there's no fucking way he'd let anyone treat him for it. That self-loathing fucker would rather suffer through it in some pointless attempt at receiving some form of redemption. He's cooked. Horror would need to tie him to the bed just to force him to get some rest.

So, anyway, this is my propaganda to say let's get at least one Sans who is mentally healthy enough and knowledgeable enough to keep these guys from dying in here.

My vote is for Lust Sans. Just because I love him.

Though someone like Color could also unlock some very fun dynamics. And he may actually get Killer to stop hiding his symptoms like an idiot. And perhaps Cross too. Literally, those guys would lie about getting bit in a zombie apocalypse

[jooeyoo]

Full parts: Until death do us part

Pairing: Douma x femReader

Tags: mentions of blood, self mutilation, manipulation, kidnapping, obsession, gore, douma himself bffr.

Summary: He kidnaps you after finding you wounded, and keeps you around for his own amusement-until you can’t take it anymore.

“I told you, you weren’t going to leave. Ever”  

Her breath hitched as she ran through the ruins of a town she once called home. It was unrecognizable, a distant memory that would still escape her as she grew older, a reminder not all things last. A reminder of life’s misery. The hem of her kimono ripped as she ran as fast as she could, her legs beginning to sore, her heartbeat irregular, the tears in her eyes clouding her vision through the tall ivory flames into the night sky. The heat of the air radiated onto every living creature, the smoke was intoxicating and caused her to suddenly stop as she grew victim to a coughing fit. Her lashes flickered,  and shot wide at the sight of the blood all over her hands, and down her chest. That’s right...I had been..impaled

Her knees grew weak as she fell to the hard ground, the pain coming back to her now as she held onto the gaping wound. She spat as a pool of blood leaking out from the depths of her gut- she stared in horror. I’m going to die...I’m going to die in this god forsaken place

Her vision began to falter once more, blurred by the smoke and the antagonising feeling of pain in her stomach. Fatigue slowly began to creep onto her body, as the unavoidable darkness of the void crept into her vision of sight. Her limbs no longer felt her own.

All dreams and aspirations she had, gone

All the memories, pain, and happiness she had endured, had been reducing to nothing- to ash in just mere hours.

Everyone she knew..who had even survived..?

Did it really matter, she was going to die herself. She thought she was at peace with the idea of death, at peace with the idea that the world is never ending, never stopping, constantly evolving yet she couldn’t deny the pit that formed in her stomach. It was so much more uncomfortable than the pain she had now grown accustomed to. Her eyes shot back open, the pupils much more dilated- they shook at the very idea of dying. Where would she go? Would a God punish her for her sins, for her mistakes? Or embrace her, and tell her she did well? Or was there nothing at all, a void devoid of any joy or misery- simply nothingness. A place where no gods, or angels roamed- but only the darkness. Darkness

Her head snapped back behind her. The city had grown quiet, no screaming or yelling could be heard- no clanking of swords. Had the fight ended? Had those people succeeded in killing that monster? Or had it..won?

The question itself made her tremble with terror, she forced herself to her feet. She wouldn’t die like this- she wouldn’t allow it. But regardless of what she wanted, within mere moments of standing- she fell back down to her knees. Another pool of blood escaped her mouth, staining her lips.

I am going to die here

Her vision began to blur, as her head hit the ground.

At-least, I’d die with dignity

Her vision became black, her mind no longer conscious.

“Oh,..oh my” A cheerful tone crept up behind the girls unconscious body. The man’s looming presence shadowed over her, he held a human leg in one of his hands- his mouth stained with blood.

“It seems a lost little lamb escaped from the hoard..” The man tutted, a wide grin on his face that was supposed to mirror a friendly smile. “Though.” His voice suddenly became cold, blank, devoid of any emotion. He let the leg fall to the floor, with a thud. He leaned down to the girl, inspecting her face, and the wound in her stomach. “You’re almost dead.” The smile on his face, had evaporated within seconds- as did his cheerful tone. He tilted his head to the side, pondering.

“How did you..run all the way out here..with a wound like that..and with a small, weak..body like that..” The man slowly pulled a strand of hair away from the girls face, revealing his long nails.  “How sad..for a girl like you to slowly die like this...such a beautiful face gone to waste as well! How despicable of my comrades!” He hummed with glee, that friendly face returning to the surface. Oh, how he could just eat her all up!

Though, he was full right now..but he couldn’t let her go to waste! Not such beauty, no! How cruel he’d be to let such a girl die in such a way, he’d only allow her to be devoured by him, savoured him, saved by him!

What to do? He tapped his head before a teethy grin emerged.

What would be so wrong, about a souvenir?

YN awoke with a gaping feeling in her stomach, as she looked down- she was met with bandages that had been carefully placed. Her mind was still foggy, her vision barely stable. Her throat felt dry, and sore. If she had died, this was certainly no better. She quickly stood to her feet, to inspect her new surroundings.

“Hello..?” She noticed she was no longer in the entertainment district but a room devoid of any actual furniture, apart from the futon she had awoken on,

- but decorated with various artworks of locus’s.

“Oh, you poor thing.” She jumped at the sudden voice that had appeared behind her.

A voice ridden with amicability and cheerfulness but there was also a hint of pity. As she turned, she felt her eyes grow wider as a enormous glooming presence struck her in very core. She was met with a man, who towered over her, with eyes like rainbows and platinum blonde hair. His hand slowly reached her shoulder, purple nails slightly digging into her shoulder- his grip was firm, but not painful- but it was freezing cold. It sent shivers down her spine.

“You awoke so quickly! I expected you to be out for longer..”

His smile grew wider as it hit her.

“..You’re..you’re a demon!” Fear struck her core, as she took a step back away from him, trying to balance her footing.

“Oh dear! You caught me!” Before she could even reply, a frightening whiff of wind passed her, as he stood now behind her once again. His body still, pressed against hers, his head peered down into the crane of her neck. “Afraid? That I’ll gobble you up? Or maybe I’ll toy with your body first! Tear it limb..from limb..” The amicability in his voice remained, yet his eyes had grown wider and more erratic. His smile seemed more creepy now, than it did friendly. YN stood still, paralysed like a deer looking into headlights, into death. Her body was frozen to the core until a pair of sharp teeth grazed just the surface of her neck which caused her to suddenly turn around.

“Why haven’t you..?”

The man paused for a moment, pondering in thought. His smile never faded.

“It’s better to savour ones food, don’t you think so? To relinquish one’s desire to simply savour it more..to appreciate the beauty in all things living, first.” He hummed.

An innate sense of danger filled her to her core

He’s a madman

“The beauty..of all thing’s living..? You mean you’re just going to toy with me until you’ve had your fun? You’re sick!” She spat out- until she realised the words she said, her eyes briefly widening in shock.

The demon stood there, for a moment he felt like laughing. “I didn’t think you’d be so resilient.. you..seemed so weak and frale! Oh how cute! I must have hit the jackpot!” His charismatic and cheerful aura beamed throughout the room clashing with YN’s who beamed of disgust.

“You mean to say..you’re not going to kill me..?” Her voice grew meek, quiet, confused, disgusted.

“Oh not yet! Anymore, atleast! You seem fun! I’m so bored these days, you see.” His voice peered to the side, as he looked her up and down causing her to take another step back. In retort, a small laugh escaped his mouth as he covered his smile with his hand.

“You seem to be in so much shock! Aren’t you relieved?”

“I’d rather kill myself now, then to be your last meal!” She screamed back at him, eyeing the door but before she could even take a step towards it- he had appeared before her.

“Why don’t we start over..?” He pretended to be upset, by her words- yet his eyes did not mirror the sentiment.

“My name is Dōma! What’s yours?” He beamed, as if her answer would be the most interesting thing he’d ever hear. Though, a silence grew beyond the two. Their eyes peering into one another.  Dōma’s beamed with anticipation yet there was this..odd feeling to them..

Was it the colour of his eyes?

YN’s eyes were fierce, the fear long hidden within her now- as she had always been taught to do.

“It’s almost as if you’re trying to kill me with that look!

“I am.”

“..they say not to bite the hand that feeds you..I was the one to save you from that horrible wound” His voice grew cold, almost devoid of emotion.

“You shouldn’t have.” YN mirrored his tone.

“You shouldn’t say such things! You should appreciate life! Afterall, that’s all humans have..you all..inevitably die..” He closed the distance between the two, peering into her eyes, observing.

“I’d have preferred to live the miserable life I had lived then and dying from that horrible wound, than living within your presence to only be devoured by you.” She spat at him, though she couldn’t help but swallow the pool of saliva growing in her throat. No matter how hard she tried, his sheer aura sent shivers down her spine.

“A miserable life? You found no joy in your life..? How unfortunate” He mirrored a tone of pity

How strange he is

“Humans really are..pathetic things...aren’t they?” His face became completely devoid of any trace of emotion, she was taken aback by the expressionless look in his eye. As if she was peering into darkness itself.

“What…?”

“To understand the beauty of all things living, you must first peer into the darkness.. It’s there to help us understand it. Would life be beautiful if we never knew what sorrow and misery felt like?”

His face quickly changed back to his signature smile, he rested a hand on her head.

“Is this what you tell yourself as you indulge yourself in massacring people?”

She was taken aback by his laugh

“Oh, dear. I simply save them from a life they can no longer see the beauty in! Simply pathetic beings! Cant see what’s further than what’s in front of them”

“And you believe, you’re saving me from a life I ‘No longer see the beauty in’..? What about what I would like?” YN removed herself from his grasp.

His eyes beamed, curious. “What is it?”

“To leave, if you’re not going to kill me- I’m not staying.” She tried to usher him out of the way, by swatting her hand at him but he simply caught her wrist and pulled it back- which caused her to fall into his chest. His other hand quickly grasped her waist, firmly and sharply.

“I didn’t say you could leave”

Her eyes grew wider, peering into the redness of his shirt.

I can’t leave..?

My last moments are going to be toyed with by a demon that wears the face of a man

How ironic

In truth, YN had been one of the many young girls who worked in the entertainment district; having met a variety of men that left all types of memories that disgusted her to her core. This was not dying with dignity, but humiliation. Her mind froze for a moment, trying to find an ounce of something to hit the demon back with but she fell to silence. Perhaps if she bored him to death, he would kill her. Yet he did nothing, and simply stood there. Listening to her heartbeat that accelerated every growing moment- oh, how he wondered how that felt

To be so afraid, you freeze and your heart begins to beat out of your chest

Even if she tried to bore him to death, he’d find something to find interest in- she was eccentric! She was the opposite of what he thought her to be! How couldn’t he not want to know more?

Suddenly,  Dōma reached out to YN’s chin, forcing her to look up at him.

“How about a game?”

“A game?”

“Stay here, until you die of old age!”

Where..was here?

“It’s not like you have anything else, anyone else..your town, gone- along with any familiars”

Her eyes widened, she had failed to realise the gravity of her situation the previous night- everything..was in flames

Her hand subconsciously touched her wound

His hand moved to the side of her cheek, caressing the skin.

“Besides, what life is it serving men?” He whispered, the smile never faltering.

“..So..serve a demon instead..” She scoffed

“No, you’d have free will.” He beamed with amusement

“At paradise faith!”

“How is this a game..you’re asking me to..live out my life..here..? Why.” She stared at him, with confusion

“Because you intrigue me; it’s not often I’m met with a human who knows what I am, who isn’t begging for mercy” His voice became a chilling cold tone.

“If I started, would you?" She didn't need to say more, for him to understand the question.

He didn’t, he never did no matter how much she begged. Months passed, and she was met with laughs, snorts, rolling of the eyes- no matter how much she cried and begged for him to just simply get it over with. He never did. During her ‘fits’ as he liked to call them, he’d simply sit down, rest his elbow on a surface with his head on his palm. His eyes always beamed with curiosity, excitement as she screamed, and tears ran down her face. As if this was a play for him to enjoy. Then he’d hold her shaking body and tell her everything would be okay, as if he wasn’t the problem. She tried to steal one of his golden fan’s once, to maybe slice her throat with it. She was met with a hand around her throat- and nothing more. She tried to insult him, hurt his pride, his weird cult- nothing worked. He’d dismiss her like a child having a fit. He’d often converse with her, force her to speak her mind on whatever subject he had chosen- which is why he found her intriguing. He was so sure, when she was lost in thought in his questions that she’d forget what he was, where she was- which was her beauty; her unique perspective of the world, of emotions. He slowly started to think he understood them, although devoid of them. He was so sure, she would be the key to helping him understand such a complex tool- he didn’t want her to leave his side.

Had it become obsession?

The way he would dismiss his followers, if she so beckoned- how he found no joy in his meals any more apart from her crude reactions to the blood. How he thought of her every waking moment of the day. How he pondered on her opinions, thought them over- found the beauty in her speech. She wouldn’t be salvaged forever if he devoured her, because her beauty was in her liveness, in what she’s lived, how she lives and how she speaks. He simply and utterly didn’t want to do it. He only ever wanted to feel her warm breath against his ice cold skin. That made him feel alive. If only she ever allowed him to show her how much he truly did appreciate her; if she’d devote herself to him entirely. But she just wouldn’t, and it captivated him more- she did not see him as a messenger of God. But he saw her as a sign from something above, although he knew, nothing was there. He would devote himself to her, if she allowed it. He sought her touch, yet her hate grew by the time and he was so oblivious to it. Why cant she love me?

She inspired him to be more, he didn’t want to revel in the slaughter anymore, he didn’t feel alive anymore in the cruelty- but his heart beat when she spoke. He had never listened so attentively to someone before, so closely. Was it love?

He’d need to ask her about that next

Dōma walked attentively down to YN’s room, curious as to what she might respond with. He was trying to formulate an idea in his head

How exciting

Until

He was absolutely stricken with horror as he opened the shoji, to be met with a gruesome sight.

Fresh blood stained the floods, as her body laid beside it. The blood quickly nauseated all of his other senses, the smell was so sweet to him.

“Oh, Oh dear”

She was still alive, but barely.

He approached her quickly, setting her head on his lap as he looked at what she had done to herself. A gaping wound in both of her wrists stared back at him- she had lost so, so much blood

Dōma’s heart skipped a beat, it only ever beat

..for her

And for what?

He stared at her, her eyes had shut, covered by her hair, her lips had grown pale and cold and the life within her skin slowly decreased. He could fear her heartbeat becoming slower, and her body becoming colder.

What an odd..sentiment

His hands would have shook, if he was capable of it.

He felt something, something alien to him but he couldn’t describe it no matter how hard he tried.

The second time..

Someone he endeared took their live

He wouldn’t allow this repetitive cycle to continue

A quick slash to his wrist caused a waterfall of blood to emerge- trickling down to her mouth.

He could only hope he would chose her.

__

Mere hours later, YN awoke in  Dōma’s chambers. An insatiable hunger in her stomach almost brought her to puking. She couldn’t remember what had happened.. her name..? What was it ..? Where was she..?

“YN! I’m so glad you’re okay!” She was met with a familiar set of rainbow coloured eyes, who seemed to be genuinely happy.

She groaned, bringing her hand to her head- feeling an annoying headache form- which is when she realised.

The length of which her nails had grown, much sharper, much more predatory.

She stared back at  Dōma, who watched attentively.

She suddenly remembered, all of the blood, all of the pain.

She suddenly jumped up from his futon, and pulled up the hems of the sleeves of her kimono- to reveal no cuts. The pit in her stomach grew even wider, but not from hunger- rage and hate.

She ran to the mirror, her kimono loosely falling down at the shoulders- as she stared back at a monster that was not herself. Her hair, had turned to such a white colour- and her eyes- predatory, those of a killer. She opened her mouth, to reveal the set of sharp canines that now housed her mouth. She gasped, before a large hand snaked itself around her waist.  Dōma’s head rested in the nook of her neck. YN screamed. “How could you do this to me! I never asked for this! You’re so selfish that even when I decided to take my own life, by my own hands, by my own meanings. You interfere like the parasite that you are!” Her screaming only grew louder but he did not reply, he did not react. He simply held her body, as she tried to fight him off- but even now as a Demon, she was still weaker. “You’re a horrible void sucking monster! Let me go!” Her screaming had turned to cries, the tears had ran down her face, staining her now pale complexion. She thought herself a horrid monster- yet  Dōma found her beauty to still be exquisite. Her knees threatened to fall down to the ground, he held her weak and limp body up as she scream cried into the air. He reached out to  turn her, to face him- he held her face in his hands.

His signature smile reappeared but his eyes grew more intensely and bright than they ever did before.

“I told you, you weren’t going to leave. Ever”  

part 2

Hate

It was such a complex emotion.

It was something a person felt at the very depth of their core, of their soul. But what is hate? If not accompanied by rage? And what is rage? If not accompanied by pain and sorrow? But pain and sorrow, couldn’t be felt without joy and joy couldn’t be felt without love.

All emotions, that the man that sat before her, was completely and utterly vacant of.

Dōma sat cross legged, his chin resting on his palm- as he always did. He sat there as if there was nothing wrong, as if he wasn’t covered in blood- as if she wasn’t either. As if, there weren’t various slashes and cuts in the fabric of his clothes, and likewise her.

What was hate, if there was no cruelty? No violence? No urge to kill them?

Would hate, not then be meaningless?

She would make him pay for what he did to her- even if he didn’t care, even if he didn’t flinch, even if he secretly liked the attention. It made her feel better, and that was enough- for now.

YN stood there, her hair had grown to an immense length and her complexion had only become paler. She resembled the devil that sat before her, now.

Her own divine punisher, how cruel. She certainly didn’t believe in a God now..

Her dress, a white colour to resemble her hair- a gift from the man she despised.

Riches wouldn’t buy her heart, she wasn’t sure she had one any more, but that only made her hate herself more; as each day passed- she became more like Dōma.

More cruel, more ravenous, more despicable.

Each time, she looked in the mirror- all she could see was the similar hair coloured that now nested in her roots, the similar void in her eyes and the similar porcelain complexion. But he adored it. He wouldn’t let her forget how beautiful he thought she was now, how they were the same now, how they’ll be together forever.

It took time, to brush her long hair, now. She’d sit in front of the mirror, tears prickling the corners of her eyes until he would appear out of the shadows. He’d snake his arm around her and take the brush. How she despised him so, yet the man was so arrogant and stubborn- he always did get his way.

“I..despise you” YN finally mustered out.

She was met with a snort.

“Do you?” Dōma’s head tilted to the side, his eyes for a brief moment became completely blank yet his tone remained all the while mockful.

How sad, it was- for such beautiful colours, to be so dull, she thought.

“More than anything, in this life and the next.” Her voice shook, tears threatened to fall, all this time spent screaming, crying, scratching and hitting him over and over again. All it was, was a constant reminder of life’s misery.

And every time, the cycle was the same.

She’d yell, she’d scream

He’d ignore her, laugh at her

She’d hit him and he would hit back

She would cry, he would pretend to care

And he never did forget, to remind her that she was his.

Suddenly Dōma stood, all injuries he had obtained had already vanished into thin air but the blood still stained the floor, as did all that time ago..the memory still engraved into his mind.

YN stared at the floor, as she heard his body slowly reach hers. He cupped her face in his hands, another reminder of how small she was, how weak, how irrelevant she was in the world.

“You really shouldn’t say such false things, hm?” He smiled, a monster hid beneath the mask.

“..The sight of you makes me sick” Her voice was quiet, almost a whisper.

Dōma stayed silent for a moment, before he spoke

“I saved you, how could you say such mean things..?” His voice grew colder, as did the sensation in his hands, but neither could feel such things any more.

“You wanted to die?” His face slowly approached YN’s ear, as he pulled the hair out of the way. His breath hitting her skin and his teeth making an appearance as he spoke.

“Did you want me to lay your rotting corpse in the courtyard? For all to see? How pitiful you are?”

His voice, was devoid of anything at all. This was the afterlife, accompanied with darkness itself, the void itself- devoid of anything.

“It was so disappointing, that someone as intelligent like you..would believe there’s anything after this cruel life..” His eyes met hers.

“I don’t. But anywhere else is better if you’re not there.” She spat back at him, the hate as bright as ever in her eyes.

“Don’t say such things..YN” He masked a look of sadness

“I do enjoy how you always keep me on my feet, but would it kill you to smile?” He turned his head to the side, wrapping a hand around the crane of her neck and the other on her cheek. He treated her like a child, and to him, she probably was. YN approached him, their bodies against each other. She stared into those dull eyes of his, no matter how hard he tried- she would see past his fonts and his masks. She leaned up to him, leaving mere centimetres between the pairs lips- his eyes never faltered, never blinked and neither did hers. Yet his heart beat, and hers did not.

“I’ll smile when the sun fucking burns you”

Dōma giggled, his grasp tightening. “Oh, how romantic” He cheerfully smiled

“but”

“I’ve grown tired of this game, YN” She yelped as his hand rapidly met her jugular instead- squeezing it violently. He would pop her head out of her socket, if he so desired- but where’s the fun?

“You scream, and you kick- When will you love me?” He whispered, his gaze never leaving her eyes.

“Could you ever? I’ve began to wonder..”

“You once said, you’d love someone who’d devote themselves to you, and who understood you beyond compare..but you don’t love me, you never could- can you?” His grip tightened, the tears now began to fall. He wasn’t going to kill her, she knew. He would torture her before he killed her, he would make her life worse than it is- just as a reminder of what he is and who is. To remind her of her place. But it wasn’t out of bad volition- he’d care for her afterwards, like he always did when he went too far. When he showed her who truly was stronger, that he could stop her fits within seconds if he wanted to- but he didn’t- because he wanted to please her! Make her feel better! Isn’t that what you do in a relationship? They were in a relationship, after all. The fact she wouldn’t let him near her, didn’t bother him at all! After all, sex was a mundane activity, he was devoid of anything- he could only fantasize about the feeling that lust gives you, but he could never truly ever actually feel it. He could only mirror it, copy, mimic- at core, he was nothing at all.

Even the devil weeps, but he didn’t.

“I gave you a chance at life...to be what you want, who you want to be- to not serve men! I only asked of you to remain at my side. Yet the months go by, and..you continue this facade of hate.”

“Have I not been good? Have I not listened to your every wish since? I’ve tried to make it up to you, YN.”

All she could do was stare, in shock? In offence at his words? But the way he spoke, and the words he chose always did have impact- he was taught the art of speech from the youngest age- he met all kinds of people, all kinds of stories who sought the words of a God- and oh, did he provide.

Deep inside her heart, she couldn’t help but rethink her actions. Had she been cruel? Too cruel? He always did try. Was that not enough? And deep down, she did know- all she had was him.

Living a normal life now, with a husband and children was impossible, physically impossible.

Living anywhere else, a demon slayer would certainly catch whiff of her- she didn’t know how to live the life of prey, and predator. But Dōma, he had lived for years- he understood this life.

He understood the brutality of it all.

A second chance at life? Yet all she had done was scream and cry and reject it entirely

Had it truly been her fault, all along?

“You know, all you have is me- and it’s all you need.

I would give you the world, if you sought it- I would shape it to your liking, it would be your world. All you have to do..is one small..little thing.”

She felt weak, mentally and physically. Her mind no longer the vast wonders and thoughts she used to have, but blank like a puppet. His eyes almost seemed hypnotic now, and his smile..that devilish smile

And that confirmation, that reminder

That she did in fact, only have him- was enough to break her.

“One small..little thing?”

She repeated, almost robotic, the tears in her eyes still formed and they still poured down her face.

He hummed In response, as he approached her ear once again. His body leaned down to her level

“To love me..as I love you.”

His voice was almost angelic, yet any peering eyes would know it was a devil’s gamble.

A deal with the devil, rather. A deal with the most despicable of them all, but what other choice?

Behead herself, or walk into the sun? Did she have the willpower for that again? To know she would die for good? Did she really want to cease to exist? Who would remember her?

Dōma?

‘As I love you’

The words meant nothing to her, she knew they were false. He wasn’t capable of love, he admitted to her he felt utterly nothing. How wrong, she would be if she knew the truth of it all.

Of course, this wasn’t love, as anyone would describe it. But it was love, in some shape or form. If your heat beat, in excitement for someone- did it not mean something? When it would never beat at all?

“Devote yourself to me, as I’ve devoted myself to you, how romantic it’d be no?

If we both helped saving those poor innocent souls..”

He meant reviling in slaughter.

“You’d be my wife, at my side. All would envy you, as your beauty knows no bounds. No harm would ever come to you, you’d do as please. The world would be yours, you just have to..love me”

His words were like programming.

Perhaps this was his plan all along, to break her into two, to make her a doll devoid of anything at all. To suck the innocence out of her heart and mind- create a monster equal to him.

She wondered, if her life would be better. If she simply did, just say she loved him. Perhaps the hate would dissipate, perhaps he’d treat her better. Perhaps she wouldn’t be a toy any more, to play with and break apart at his will. A familiar pit in her stomach grew, fear. Fear of the unknown

Perhaps he wouldn’t keep her here, against her will- but was it even against her will any more? She had many opportunities to leave, forever. Yet she never did. Because she always knew, she only had him. What life, if bound by solitude?

But what life, if bound by the devils grasp?

That was the devils gamble

One hell or the other.

His eyes peered into hers, tilting her chin up with his index finger- her eyes slowly lifting to meet his gaze.

He was awaiting her answer, she knew. And she knew deep down, what her choice was. The only choice she ever had.

“Okay..” Was all she could muster out, a weak simple word.

“Okay, what?” There was that, absence of emotion once again.

“I…”

His smile, retuned though it took much more of a sinister look to it.

“will..love you..” A tear rolled down her face,  Dōma simply rubbed it into her skin.

“Until death do us part..” He hummed, with excitement.

What was hate, without love?

It would be meaningless.

Dōma placed a kiss on YN’s head, relishing the contact.

She knows she’s made a mistake. But, it doesn’t take that much to break someone apart, and put them back together to your liking. Her words never meant anything to him, her screaming and crying was simply background sound. A deal with the devil to even grasp a fraction of solitude- she could only envy his followers, a sweet release of death.

But she was so afraid of it. Her body felt utterly weak, as if it no longer belonged to her.  Dōma instantly took notice.

“You poor thing, let’s have you rest hm?” He gently guided her to lay down, her head on his lap. He hummed and stroked it. In a moment like this,  she would have thought him to be a kind man- as he desperately tries to make her believe, but she knew better. She had seen him, covered in blood that was alien to him and corpses surrounding him like trophies, as he feasted. All the smell, had attracted a lower demon, who had tried to start a turf war over her meal- Dōma had quickly ended the altercation, with a new head to gift Gyokko; as he told her.

Oh

She suddenly peered her eyes open, to remember the state she was in, covered in blood.

It had even stained her hair, she looked up to Dōma who was already looking at her- to be met with a familiar sight. Even now, he always reminded her of herself as his hair had taken the same gruesome look as well. “Tell me, what are you thinking?” He asked, gently- his smile warm though it was only a facade. “I can’t stand having your blood on me like this” She spoke quietly yet the disgust in her words remained. She slowly got up from his lap, feeling obviously groggy. “Oh dear! Aren’t husbands and wives supposed to share their bodily fluids?” He raised a finger up in question, but he was only teasing- he knew better. And her face only grew more disgusted at both the statement and the sentiment of ‘husband and wife’.

We aren’t even married.

“I’m going to bathe.”  She changed the subject yet before she could completely slip out of Dōma’s grasp, he grabbed onto her wrist. “Oh, but I’d like to come.” He smiled, innocently- but it wasn’t an innocent smile at all. In truth, YN wouldn’t have cared. Many before have seen her naked body,  Dōma has probably spied on her before, she didn’t care- yet she knew where this was going. He wanted to ‘seal the deal’. Even though, he had no pleasure in the activity, he wanted her to be pleased with his capacities to pleasure, he couldn’t have her looking for another demon now, could he? “I’d like some time to myself, Dōma” She explained, with a gentle voice- she would simply match his facade. The hate would, one day dissipate, wouldn’t it? Had he eternally punished her? Or was he her saving grace? She was at an internal fight.

“Oh, but you’re so tired! That was some fight!” He knew no bounds, so she accepted.

As he stood, his head once again met the crook of her neck, where his teeth lightly grazed the surface. “You know,” He paused. His breath hitting her skin.

“I really think..I do love you.”

It wasn’t love, it never will be.

final part

"“I would feed my heart to you, if you just asked, my love.”"

The thunder crackled throughout the black clouds and ashen sky, a mirky smell of humidity to accompany it. Every animal had already fled back to it’s designated den, and every little critter had hidden behind various rocks stones and trees. They all hid for a reason, they all hid from something.

That was mother nature, that was the way of life.

YN sat on the makeshift stone bench, watching the clouds get darker and angrier. How she understood those clouds all too well. There was always a sensation of peace, and calmness before a storm rolled in- she had sat all afternoon observing it. Yet, even through that serenity, there’s a slight whiff of something sinister. It’s hard to catch it, not all can sense it. But it’s there, lurking and forming. How it mirrored her heart so. She had became herself again, observant and thoughtful, curious and artistic. How it pleased the devil she housed with. He was so content, that she regained her beauty, her liveness- but especially that her love for him did not falter.

Though, even now she wondered if she truly loved him with all her heart, or if it was fear- fear of solitude, of death.

So, she chose to love him. In some shape of form, touching somebody’s body in the name of love, is still love. Doing favours and tasks, conversing and bathing- it was enough for him. After all, the only thing that mattered to him, was the conversing. She didn’t lose her humanity, tears would still prickle her eyes as she ate her meals- Dōma would simply laugh and tease her. But he wanted to understand, and she helped him. She helped him understand emotions he couldn’t fathom to comprehend. But one still escaped her, explaining love. She had tried, yet she didn’t comprehend it herself entirely. For Dōma, his love showed itself violently yet also gracefully. He had already killed in her name, on multiple occasions, but he’d also bathe her body so tenderly- as if his palms weren’t stained with the blood of thousands. She had grown accustomed to that sentiment. Allowing a killer to touch her, to stroke her hair, to whisper soft words in her ear- but was she not the same now? Was she not also a killer? She did it because she had to survive, like all creatures- but she had became his creature. All who knew this, knew she was his weakness.

A weakness he made, that he allowed- for the simple craving of what he could never have.

But that’s how it usually works, isn’t it?

Envious for something you cannot obtain, cannot have.

His eyes, always peered to hers. And that gentle smile, only ever faltered for her.

She had grown to accept Dōma, for being this way. It was strange, if someone said to her now- that he was a brutal killer, and a monster. She wouldn’t disagree, but she would still fight in his name; How strange it was, to spend so much time by someone’s side that you would still pick them over a warm heart, and not a cold one. But, being around coldness makes you used to it- the warmth begins to burn. And this was true vice versa, but Dōma didn’t think the heat burned, no. Instead, he fantasied about the touch. Like a moth attracted to a flame, her heart was his saving grace.

He truly did feel something for her.

Time had become irrelevant, she did not know how long she had been at the temple- she did not know how long she had known Dōma now. Yet, it did not matter, because old age would escape her now as it would him.

Together, for eternity, as he’d say

She took in a deep breath, the humidity entering her lungs. A solitary bird, flew over the court yard- and she couldn’t help to wonder what that felt like. To be free, to go wherever you want, to not be plagued with the mind of a thinker.

Dōma appeared from behind her, he bent over to her height to place a kiss on her cheek.

“I’ve been looking for you all over, my love.” He smiled.

She didn’t reply, instead she kept her gaze up at the sky. Dōma’s followed, the colours in his eyes seeming more dim than usual.

As he sat down, his hand travelled along her thigh, moving his thumb in a circular motion. YN’s eyes didn’t falter from the sky. She never knew what he wanted, he was a man, or more so devil, incapable of understanding.

“If I died, what would you do?” Suddenly, Dōma spoke. The question itself made YN’s eyes jump to his face, and without a surprise, she was met with utter nothingness.

“Why would you ask such a question?” Her voice was quiet and meek. Not because the subject of death itself bothered her but because she, in truth, was utterly afraid of what she would do. Her entire existence revolved around him. As a human, she had no family and no understanding of her place in the world- taught to simply serve men and nothing more. It was a skill of survival not of life. Yet, regardless of what he had done to her- forcing her to come to his sanctuary with him, breaking her apart for his own amusement and satisfaction- he had never touched her without her permission. He had never taken advantage of her, nor had he ever put her in any real danger apart from herself. If he hurt her, he made sure it was a lesson and not a beating. Though, she had hurt him too. It was simply how their love worked, there cannot be hate without love- and there cannot be hate without violence. If he died, she would have no meaning whatsover. She didn’t have friends. She didn’t relate to the cultists who believed in a God who didn’t exist, whom was dead. And if he was real, he certainly laughed at their pity and despair. She didn’t relate to them at all, because she was in fact not human any more. It was an aspect she often forgot, and her creator, before her- had been the one to teach her everything she knew. How could she not have some sort of pact with him? Regardless of the hate she had buried deep within her, regardless of the lies she told herself. That was life, that survival. And he didn’t care, because words, were just words. And actions, were just actions.

She swallowed.

“I don’t know.”

“Would you find someone else?” He asked, his gaze turning to hers. His eyes would always become so dull, and it never made her fail to realise, how utterly vacant he was.

“No.” She answered truthfully. Because, the raw and hard truth was, she couldn’t ever love someone again. Not because of some hidden morals but because he had destroyed the meaning. His love was so violent yet so tender at the same time, any other form would seem meaningless and empty to her. It wouldn’t be love to her anymore. All the screaming and all the blood would accompany all the nights spent with nails in her thighs and sweet little nothings in her ear. How, could she even possibly fathom to find, such a distasteful love ever again?

Yet she wouldn’t have it either way, and neither would he.

Dōma didn’t answer, he turned his gaze back to the sky. The question had spawned worry in YN.

Did he do it on purpose?

Or was he genuinely curious?

“Are you afraid of dying?” She finally mustered out, her hand rested itself on his- to which he stopped his movements.

“No.”

“Yet, I’m afraid of you dying.”

The statement didn’t surprise her, instead it filled with her an odd sense of false security. No matter how violent and toxic he was, he would protect her- but maybe just not from him.

Soon, the droplets of rain began to fall.

Without another word, Dōma had gently guided YN to her feet, and his hand met her lower back before he leaned down to her ear.

“If you did die, I’d kill myself to join you.”

Her heart had skipped a beat for a moment.

The statement itself didn’t shock her but the tone he had used. It had a certain animosity to it, it wasn’t devoid of emotion but it didn’t exactly have any either.

That was when that pit of fear begun to emerge in her stomach again.

Fear of the unknown.

She was right to have observed the storm rolling in, because something had changed.

But, as they entered the temple- she was suddenly remembered of his words long ago.

“Until death do us part.”

Did he mean that, literally?

Did he know something she didn’t?

Was he planning to kill her? Or was he ordered to? Or was he simply in a bad mood?

If he was going to kill her, she’d rather know than not. He could atleast have the decency to give her the mental preparation , though he always was a selfish man- even in bed. Which was quite ironic considering he didn’t even care for it but saw it as more of a hobby.

Lost in thought, she had failed to realise he had guided them to their bedroom. It was odd, considering prayer time was soon and the two would be expected to make an appearance.

Before she could speak, she was met with his cold lips against hers. It wasn’t rough, but it wasn’t exactly passionate either. It was hungry.

For Dōma, the heat that radiated off of her lips was almost intoxicating. They weren’t cold like his, her heart constantly beat, with fire and warmth. How she resembled him so, yet not at the same time. In truth, he had done this on purpose. He had orchestrated the entire thing. He already knew, who she was before he found her almost dead. After all, he was the one who impaled her.

But she didn’t know that, and she didn’t need to know.

The entire reasoning of it all was for a simple reason.

A life long partner.

Although he didn’t understand love and affection, he wasn’t oblivious to social cues. He knew nobody truly actually liked him. And his devoted followers loved him because they were told to.

But he could force someone to love him, couldn’t he? Afterall that was what that woman had told him, when he sought counselling on his troubles. Of course, her good advice now lays in the bowels of his stomach.

So, he had stalked for a partner.

The entertainment district, had truly never failed to amaze him. There were all kinds of people, and beautiful women- he just had to choose wisely- and he did at that. It was a rarity for him to have bad taste after all.

In truth, he knew everything about her before she even knew of his existence.

He knew she had no family, no ties to the outside world- that she was born into this work and never truly knew what love was. It was easy, he just had to make her believe this was love because he was incapable of showing it any other way.

He had found her to be quite exquisite, and he had already noticed that fire inside of her. The warmth that he had been looking for, for a century.

His mother was unable to give it to him, and another woman failed at it- she would be the last option. If she failed, he would kill himself entirely. He had decided.

He would die in a battle, he knew that.

Regardless, before he died- he wanted to know what love felt like. He was always so cold, he had become numb to it and although she was the same breed of monster he was now, she wasn’t so cold.

He knew he’d have to break her into two to make her love him

He knew, he’d have to lie and deceive her- but did he ever claim to not be the devil?

After all, he is cunning but also beautiful- and he once was an angel.

Perhaps this was a pointless fight, to be fighting for something that he will never truly obtain- but he’s had everything he’s ever wanted apart from that.

He didn’t care for walking in the sun or power

He revelled in slaughter because it made him feel something and likewise now, he could only fall under the spell she had put under him.

His hands travelled up her waist and down to her hip bone before he lightly bit at her bottom lip.

What would she say, if she knew?

She was so erratic, maybe she would kill herself. Afterall she tried it once before, who’s to say she wouldn’t again? She would leave him wouldn’t she? Why would she not? Everyone else had.

Everyone he had ever taken a liking to, would simply leave.

Perhaps he shouldn’t have turned her into a demon in the first place

Maybe he wasn’t deserving of love

“Dōma?”

Suddenly, his mind wandered back to reality. It was not often that he zoned out, after all, he was so perceptive- yet when it came to her, he became a man he didn’t even recognise.

He hadn’t even noticed, that he placed her onto the bed, and loomed over her. He had kissed her neck before abruptly stopping and his gaze becoming devoid of any emotion.

“What’s wrong?”

How funny it was, he thought. That she cared

His signature smile returned, as his slightly closed yet were still open enough to see those multicoloured eyes.

“Nothing at all, my love- since you’re here with me” He whispered, and placed another kiss on the crane of her neck before moving to her collarbone before he was met with a rather violent pull of his hair which led him for just a moment- to widen his eyes.

“First, you ask me such a ridiculous question, then this, and then you just suddenly gaze into nothing. Explain yourself.” Her voice had broke, she wasn’t upset but worried and dumbfounded.

He always kept her emotions in disarray.

Should he tell her?

Would it be proof of her love if he did?

That he had in fact orchestrated the entire thing?

One of his hands reached up to her cheek, as he stroked it lightly.

“Do you remember, how we met?” He asked, gently.

“When you..kidnapped me?” She scoffed, looking back at the memory it was foggy and blurry. A reminder of a previous life, a life where she still didn’t have any freedom.

“Hm, yes I suppose..for you..that’s how we met.” His tone became cold.

“..?..”

“That monster, that you had seen- it was me, my dear.”

“I was the one that caused the city to become ruin.”

She was met with horror as distant memories suddenly became anew.

She had shoved them to the back of her head, she hadn’t once thought about what she had seen.

Only the flames, were describable but not the other horrors.

The way the other girls were screaming and crying as pillars of wood fell and the smell of copper filled the halls. Mutated legs and arms scattered around the building like children’s toys.

And the sudden golden tinted fan that had her in her chest before she fell from the window.

It was in an effort to catch her.

Her mouth grew dry.

She had understood now, why their first encounter was so strange. He didn’t decide to keep her on a whim, he had decided long before. He had caused the city to burn, for her. In an effort to break her, to have her. To make her believe that he was her saviour, her god.

“..What..”

What, was the only word she could muster out as Dōma shadowed over her.

His eyes had a glint in them, they weren’t so dim. As if he was glad to have the lie between them finally revealed, as if they growing anew- as if this would be true love.

“I had seen you, quite a few months back- walking home after working.”

He smiled

“Oh, it was quite funny, you didn’t even see the poor girl I was feasting on..”

His canines shined under the small luminosity that housed the room

“But, you just caught my eye. You were so beautiful! And just so lost in your own mind, it was exactly what I was looking for! I had to know more.”

He bent down now, cheerfully and joyous as he placed a toothy kiss to her neck.

Goosebumps filled her body.

“You..stalked me.. and then burnt the entire fucking city to the ground?”

Her voice broke again, she was dumbfounded? Afraid?

Horrified was more the word for it.

“And I would burn the world, just for you.

You didn’t need that city, what good did it do? It only harmed you, my love.”

He pleaded his case.

“You were exactly what I was looking for, intelligent and creative yet you had this striking beauty to you, though the sadness and despair wasn’t something I had ignored either- I wanted to save you, you poor thing.” He whispered into her ear, yet the words meant nothing- it only fuelled the sickening feeling in her stomach.

“You..manipulated me..?” Her voice had grown quiet, tears now threatening the corners of her eyes.

“Oh, YN. You were always so exquisite when you cried.” Dōma approached his mouth to her left eye, before gently licking the corner.

It filled her with disgust.

“You..took everything away from me..and then denied me death just..for-..for-” YN couldn’t finish the sentence before a muffled sob escaped her mouth.

“Took everything away..? You never had anything in the first place..

I gave you everything you’d ever need” He stroked his thumb on her cheek.

She wanted to tell him to get out, to scream at him and to cry and sob.

After all this time, she had been so stupid

She had ignored the simple truth, because she had already known.

Yet, she couldn’t accept it, because she had nobody else.

The hate had dissipated, for the simple reason of lying to herself.

Dōma now telling her and affirming her suspensions all along, all in some sick and twisted way of proving his love to her made her realise, that what she had grown to love was a monster, and would only ever be a monster.

He didn’t just kidnap her, he destroyed everything in his path to make sure she had nothing else to return to. That he would be the only thing she would have, turning him into the same creature that he was, into the same monstrosity- was assurance.

He didn’t manipulate her in his mind, he simply bent the truth.

Stalking was such a big word, he had only just learnt every single detail about her before making his move. Was that normal? He wanted results, not failure.

Her muffled sobs brought a grin to his face, an erratic one. He always did like to see her cry, it reminded him that she still had her humanity- that she was still so different from him.

He approached her ear with a sweet shushing sound as if to soothe her.

“I even kept their bodies, in case you ever missed them”

“...you’re fucking sick” YN finally managed to muster out, with a cry to accompany it.

“If being in love with you makes me sick, then so be it!” He cheerfully smiled

“This isn’t love!” She tried to push him off, but he was stronger. He always was. He pinned both of her wrists down with one arm- his veins making an appearance.

“You don’t think I love you, YN?” Dōma masqueraded a look of sadness before a golden fan met his free his hand, with a swift movement, it opened.

“Do you want me to prove to you, that I do?”

His voice became devoid of any emotion.

Before YN could answer, or even comprehend his sudden act- she was met with a gush of blood hitting her face.

A small empty laugh filled her ears and as she looked, she realised he had slit his throat open- the fan was still impaled into his neck and was making it’s way through the bone deeper.

“I love you so much I’d be prepared to die for you, are you?”

Before she could react, the fan had already met her neck.

She whimpered as it slightly cut her skin- though he hadn’t cut her nearly as deep as he had cut himself.

His skin had already begin to heal.

“There shouldn’t be any lies between us, my love. If you died, I’d go utterly insane.”

“Please..get off of me.” She whimpered as her white hair and porcelain skin was now stained with his blood. Though, he himself didn’t care. Instead, he shoved another kiss on her lips. This time it was rough, a mixture of the taste of blood and saliva pooled the two’s mouths as he harshly bit at her lip. In an effort to make him stop even for just a moment, she bit him back yet this caused absolutely no reaction at all and seemed to just fuel his blood lust further.

He pretended to be a kind man when in truth, he was nothing but hell itself among mortals.

“What does it matter?” He finally breathed into her mouth.

“It was so long ago now, hm?” He stroked her hair, his own fingers stained with crimson red.

“It matters because you killed everyone that I knew! You burnt my home to ash!” She cried out

“Had you not said, you had lived a life of a misery?” He tilted his head, to which YN was met with silence in her own mind.

She had said that, hadn’t she.

“Did I not give you a somewhat better life? Regardless of my past actions? As they say, let’s not cry over spoiled milk, my dear.”

“..Why..”

Dōma reflected for a moment

“Does it matter?” He asked, emotionless.

It didn’t, she had concluded.

It didn’t matter, because regardless she was stuck here. She wouldn’t leave, she knew she wouldn’t. She was stuck within the devils grasp- and he wasn’t letting go.

Deep down, maybe she knew the answer. But it didn’t matter.

It never did, because in truth, she would most likely die from her hand- and him his own.

It was a story that was never bound to have a happy ending.

After all, their entire existence was against the codes of nature and so was this so called love.

“I would feed my heart to you, if you just asked, my love.”

She wished, she had killed herself that day.

[problemchildtm]

Heartbreak

Derek Morgan x Reader

A/n: I'm no writer but I wanted to give it a try. I've also never really been in love so take the love analogies with a grain of rice. Hope you enjoy! :)

Warnings: angst/fluff, mentions of grief and death, hardly proofread, I think that's it but let me know if I'm missing something

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

“You will never know true happiness until you have truly loved, and you will never understand what pain really is until you have lost it.” —Unknown

Derek Morgan was positive he knew what heartbreak felt like. Heartbreak and the BAU went together like the mood and the tides. He’s seen the effects firsthand. The anger, the depression, and everything else in between. Day after day, week after week he watches heartbreak and it never gets better.  

He can still remember his first experience with the phenomenon. He was hit the day his dad died. People always describe the feeling being as simple as its name. A physical crack in the chest cavity that contains the heart. In his case, it was more like the entire muscle being forcefully ripped out. The pain was immeasurable and all-encompassing. Every inch of his body ached to the point of exhaustion. Absolutely nothing could compare.  

Heartbreak is sourced in different ways: Breakups, deaths, rejections just to name a few. Derek never wanted to go through heartbreak in any capacity, so he’s cruised. There were no serious relationships or commitments outside the BAU, just to play it safe. Heartbreak can’t reach those who build extensive layers of armor around the vessel.

Everything was going well until he met you.

It was impossible for him to shut you out. Derek’s frequented the same gym for years. They had everything he needed and the change of scenery from the FBI was nice. He’s had the same routine for years yet the process abruptly stopped the second he laid eyes on you, sitting behind the front desk with the warmest smile he’s ever seen. From there he was a goner.

The occasional run-in turned into movie marathons on a rare off day before completely blossoming into a full-fledged romance. Derek’s never been one to believe in love at first sight. Hell, he hardly believed in love, so it was utterly confusing when the metaphorical hole in his heart started to swell at the thought of you. No matter what he did his mind always returned to you. The way you spoke to him, the way you cared for him after a rough case, the way you smelled, his thoughts were completely filled by you. 

The days were longer, the nights were kinder, and the job was more bearable. Soon, the constant fear and anxiety that plagued him evolved into comfort. He no longer feared heartbreak. He didn’t wonder who would be the next person to destroy his happiness because he knew you would never even dream of it. You who held him after a nightmare. You who always understood his schedule. You who distracted him from the horrors of his profession. You who loved him, you who he fell in love with. Suddenly, warmth flooded his chest accompanied by a staggering realization. Love isn’t a concept you convince yourself is there out of fear of being alone. It’s not just a word. And it’s not some other-worldly experience that takes over a life. Love is feeling at ease with someone. Love is being able to rely on someone without worrying about ulterior motives. Love is what he felt for you. 

Derek Morgan was positive he knew what love felt like and he felt it day after day by your side. 

[toomanyideasandfandoms]

Hello!

I have come to add my subpar ideas to the Death-Seeking Creator (which I will shorten to DSC for my own sanity) AU! Ignore them if you'd like!

Someone else mentioned the adrenaline junkie aspect, but what about other stuff that they've (maybe) evolved into, given their godhood likely having effects on their organic parts?

For example, what if dying is now the only way they can sleep?

I can see Teyvat or maybe even their own biology trying to keep them safe by altering them to need less sleep, as well as making them more alert and heightening their senses.

This, however, has gone a bit too far - they can't sleep anymore due to all the deaths they've suffered, body so keyed into survival mode that they can't physically find it in themselves to rest no matter how hard they try, and drugging them doesn't work anymore after Kaeya's sleep potion escapade.

The longer they're alive, the more and more unstable they become due to the restlessness, leading them to seek their next 'nap' even more desperately.

After like three weeks without a death, they just scream 'I can't take it anymore!' and self-delete with a sharp rock or whatever, only to then pop up somewhere else bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, having just experienced the equivalent of a full night of rest.

Or what if it's that they don't experience hunger instead, after who knows how many poisonings and attempts to eat being interrupted by the sudden appearance of an executioner?

Decadent, exquisite, utterly perfect meals are being laid out at their table once they've been 'accepted', only to touch absolutely none of it since they just can't feel hungry when they've been awake too long.

Yet as soon as they revive, they're practically starving, shoveling whatever slop is around into their face with the mindless urge to sate the bottomless pit in their stomach, half-mad with the returned urge.

This has led to them occasionally just showing up in the middle of the wilds post-mortis and joining a pack of friendly animals in eating a dead thing, much to the horror of the local populace and probably their 'acolytes'.

Bonus points if they offer said horrified onlookers a piece, like, 'want some? You can kill me after if you finish it all :)' just because they viscerally enjoy traumatizing their shitass betrayers.

But that's just my dogwater take. I can't make you do anything with it. Feel free to salvage parts of it and make something infinitely more useful.

Omg you devious devil I absolutely love all of this!!! Gold star for you!

While I haven't really thought about that particular aspect of DSC, I definitely can see some of this happening! Plus you are right to suggest that them being a god would mean they have no use for sleep or eating. Though I would believe that it's mainly their survival instincts, something they choose to ignore or even override once fully submerged into death seeking, that is to blame for this. Once they've been accepted they just refuse to do so because they want it to lead to another death (which wouldn't happen since they lost the need for it once isekaied).

Also that image you described of the creator eating a dead animal with a pack of animals is absolutely amazing. While it doesn't fit DSC too much I absolutely can see that for more of a wild animal creator au, one where they aren't being hunted but because of the fear of potentially being hunted they decided to become one with nature. Eventually ending up evolving into something more beastlike and even losing the ability to talk since it's not needed. Oho imagine the look of awe the characters would have seeing their creator becoming intuned with Teyvat.

[zhongrin]

To the kinich post

why can we kill baby monsters and not cats. Or dogs. Can we kill the foxes on Inazuma? The seals yes.

Hoyo is weirdly specific with that is a monsterlife lesser then a stereotype pet?

Or do cats symbolise something else in the game because of Venti being allergic?? (He is a fucking WHISP not even human he is just copying an appearence how the fuck does he have an allergy??? HE CONTROLS THE WIND HOW THE FUCK DOES THIS EVEN-)

We are the monsters here.

Have u seen the hilichurl just chilling around. The slimes playing? The evolved hilichurl watching the world? They use instruments. Slimes to fly. They know how to use instruments. Pyro slimes for explosion. Dendro to create shields (how the fuck i want that too) anemo to transport and fly.

They have a fucking language. Most are former people. We are just to ignorant and fearful to realize we've been killing sentient people who laugh and have fun and have their own traditions and-

*falls over and gets carried away by an exasperated husband* "...I know I shouldn't have given you a sight to the over darkness."

ok nvm i lied i didn't (can't) sleep bc of all the noises outside (yay /s) so here goesー

hskdjskdj no idea i mean game-design wise it makes sense sure, but lore wise??? idk why we're attacking these natlan ppl and their saurians, they look normal and are mostly just chilling in nature... why are we beating them up? lore wise? i don't think there's an explanation for it?? maybe they 'got too excited' like what the daily quests says and we're just calming them down?? lmao

and again if we approach it lore wise, it doesn't make sense for the traveler to continue killing the hilichurls either?? at this point they know what the hilichurls are. so yeah, it's all for the sake of gameplay orz

........

hnmmm. here's an idea...

cw. not proofread, word vomit, violence/light gore

you get isekai'd into teyvat. you're worshipped as the creator and all that pizzazz; we all know how it goes so i'm not going to explain further.

now imagine, one day you decide to stroll through the lands, accompanied by a few select people; perhaps the 'main team' you always use for exploration in-game. a few ways away, you see a camp of hilichurls. obviously you know what they actually are, and you got curious if you could do something for them, right? i mean, being the creator, an all powerful entity, you might even be able to reverse their curse? who knows? better try it out!

so you step closer to try and communicate with them.

but to your utter surprise, instead of doing so, you find your body moving on its own, hand raised to grab the nearest character's weapon, before swinging with the full intention to kill.

thud.

the blade decapitates the poor creature's head.

as it rolls on the ground and you stare at the gruesome sight in both horror and denial, bile rising from the back of your throat, your acolytes follow your example and proceeds to eradicate the entire camp.

your will is their command, after all.

you can't even scream. you can't find your voice. nit because of fear or sadness or frustrationー you just can't.

once they finish, they return to you, expecting praise and adoration, only to be greeted by tears and muffled sobs. they don't understand why you were crying; even before your descent to teyvat, haven't you been commanding them to do the same thing, countless times? they try to offer you the remnants of the hilichurls' bloodied masks and divine scrolls ー you've always liked receiving those! why are you crying harder? what did they do wrong?

you look like you were trying to say something, but they find the words leaving your mouth is of a language they have never heard before.

you thought you could find a home in the world you loved so much.

but you just feel..... lost.

[spoiler/explanation below]

eventually, you realize you were no 'creator' of this world at all.

you were just a string marionette of celestia's.

'the creator' had always been an illusion; an existence They created to pull the blanket over everyone's eyes. your existence's sole purpose is to control the archons, the dragon sovereigns, and the people of teyvat. like an ignorant shepherd leading the sheeps straight to the maw of the wolves.

you weren't some all knowing creator.

you weren't even a monster.

you were never yourself at all.

[wolfsrainrules]

A Quiet Night AU- A DC/ A Quiet Place fusion thought Long Post

Sooooo I was watching A Quiet Place (which I love deeply, it was such a DIFFERENT handle on horror movies, watching that in a theater was a RIDE) and I am neck deep in DC and had t h o u g h t s. Please keep in mind that I have only fandom knowledge of DC and am playing with the death angels (name of the Quiet Place creatures) make up for this au: 

To Start:

AU is an AOB verse, cause I wanted to play with what a situation like this would do to instincts and packs and I need everyone to do the thing we do with comics where we apply “Comic Book Logic” to why these death angels succeed in invading the Earth. Why the metas and supers didn’t get them out, because this verse would be taking place AFTER the world has been invaded, and the creatures have wiped out QUITE a large chunk of Earth’s population.  Read the VERY LONG ramble about this verse under the cut.

We have Alphas Jay and Cass, Omegas Tim and Dick, Damian is unpresented but approaching the time he would present properly, and he’s an Alpha-to-be. Alfred, Steph and Duke are Betas. 

The Death Angels: For those not in the know, they are large, kind of spider-like in movements, VERY fast, and fully armored. The armor stands up to bullets and knives, and explosions can toss them but don’t seem to do damage. They’re entirely blind, have claws and a mouth full of sharp teeth and their hearing is VERY sharp. Their head opens to expose soft insides that work like a super-ear, tracking sound, and that’s really the only vulnerable spot, and they can’t swim. That’s all canon to their verse. I’m playing with them a little, so that the planet they come from is laced so deeply with kryptonite they’ve adapted to sort of work on supers, as in they can’t use their powers on them. I’m upping that armor to be stronger than standard canon, as we do have metas running around and I want them to really only be vulnerable while hunting and exposing the ear to hunt. 

It means to kill them, you have to get close enough to be heard, to be HUNTED. You have to be clever. Usually with some kind of blade, as most other things (especially guns) are too loud, and even if it works it brings the hundreds of death angels in the area, every single one that heard it, your way and then your fucked. On top of all of that- if they close the plates of armor that shield their ‘ear’ bullets don’t penetrate it, and blades skitter off. You have to get to that soft unshielded ear to take them out. The hearing was picked up real quick by the Bats and they tried to use that.

On technicality, very high pitched feedback sounds can fuck with their hearing, and cause them pain, usually making he plates that cover the ear kind of��lock up? And then they stagger around, can’t track people or what’s around them, and the ‘ear’ stays exposed cause the plates of armor are locked in an open position, even if they’re jerking around like animatronics move trying to make the sound make sense and stop hurting.

I’m messing with that cause I want to make this more difficult lol. If you manage to mess with the main method of hearing, the death angels are evolved to slam the armor plating that covers their ‘ear’ closed, block out the sound, and shift to a low clicking-purr sound that vibrates their body and acts as a makeshift sonar type ability over the kind of echolocation they’d been using, reading the vibrations of it through their legs and basically triangulating prey and obstacles around them and it makes them more dangerous because it’s a response to being hurt and they do NOT appreciate it. 

In canon rain/waterfalls can hide you, if you keep the sound level under the sound of the water. I’m going to keep that, saying the rain hitting the ground hard enough can sort of hide people from that sonar too, if you move carefully. Caves are also a good place to hide- provided the death angels don't get inside. Which means the Bat-Cave is a kind of ‘safe’ space, far enough underground they can speak softly, and the equipment inside is safe to run, so long as they are careful with the clock-entrance. 

I babbled to wintersnight (@iphoenixrising) for a good while about this AU (@north-peach doesn’t like horror, she thinks the protags are all stupid and it drives her nuts so she missed this ramble lol)  but Winter followed my logic and encouraged me to actually post this somewhere lol

Leading into the Next Important Thing: 

Cities are death traps. All that confined space and the noise of it? The death angels came in like moths to a flame. Large groups of moving people trying to evacuate? Too much noise. Death angels stampede in and hit the group like a pack of wolves cornering prey. 

Gotham was one city of many that hit hard and fast. The Bats are good at what they do,  but they’re not omniscient no matter what anyone thinks. It was so fast. 

This verse would be covering the AFTER of the invasion of the death angels, AFTER they’ve swarmed the world, after so many have died. This verse would be the ‘post-apocalypse’ survival AFTER. 

Zeta-tubes are technically usable to get them out, and up to the Watchtower, but the sound of them activating is loud enough to pull the death angels, and the tube gets destroyed in their hunt for the sound. This also works in reverse- if you use them to come back down, the creatures will swarm towards whoever arrived, and the tubes still end up getting destroyed.

Coming back to the AOB concept: 

I love how all of what’s happening opens the chance to play with their instincts and protective territorial instincts. The urge to den down in a defensive position. To patrol their chunk of space, keep their pack alive and safe 

To fight. 

They were all scattered when the invasion happened, so they have to work their way back to the cave by foot, cars are too loud, and their grapleguns make enough sound to also be unusable when firing as well as anchoring down. They can’t open the hidden entrances for vehicles, it’s too loud and opens a way straight in, so they have to find other ways in. If they can get into the manor, the clock would be an option, it opens smooth and quiet, but the trade off is risking any sounds inside the cave traveling up the stairs and getting the location found. 

So most of the Bats running around Gotham are going to sneak into the hidden natural entrances into the cave systems and navigate back to the cave. Defenses and redirects are going to be set up to prevent death angels from getting in.

Which leads to my favorite part of this AU:

How this situation combines with AOB instincts in the Bats specifically. 

How clever the Bats are. 

I want to play with that. Wanna address how smart they are, their instincts going absolutely feral-survival-mode wild in this kind of life-or-death situation, with threats actually actively hunting them, zero chance of reasoning with them.

Wanna address the genetic memory of packs before cities were made being drawn out. Wanna look at how packs actually hunt when those instincts are stirred and it’s life-or-death, how the Bats work together. When an Alpha, Omega or Beta is pushed to the brink, pushed to feral, their pack, their territory all threated, all in actual danger by something that can and will hunt them back. I want to see their senses cranked up and used to track death angels down, hunt and kill them.

How terrifying it probably is to go into rut or heat in this kind of situation. Being hazy and vulnerable, instinct driven, unable to focus well, in a situation like this one. How, once the situation has settled correctly into their psyche and bones, it might change. The mess that is a presentation heat or rut in this kind of hell, because Damian is within the age of when it happens (between 13-16 is average in my head, this AU places Damian at 15 in my head, so he’s due for it). What it does to the pack of the person in heat or rut for them to be so vulnerable while something like this is happening.   

The protective pup-instincts triggered by an unpresented Damian. What the urge to shield the pack, keep it alive and safe, and protect pups might look like when combined with the hero-vigilante instincts in them, and finding pups who survived the invasion, but are abandoned or the last of their packs, with no one and nothing left. What the drive to protect and expand their packs, keep them alive and thriving might look like.

The territorial instincts playing out, in a hunted/hunting situation with- as Winter put it- “The backdrop of Gotham and how many traps they'd set since this is their territory and they know every rusty fire escape, crumbling Bailbondsmen, and gargoyle in this entire city.”

She understood where I was going with it lol. I adore how well they’d know Gotham, and exploring how that knowledge would play out in setting up traps and triggerable distractions for the death angels, to help in hunting and killing them. How it’d be fed by those territorial instincts of their city being invaded, their people killed, and their pack in so much danger. 

On top of all of that, I also like exploring how the pack leader (Omega Bruce) vs pack alpha (Jason) would react in a situation like this, and the give-and-take of compromise and keeping their pack safe in such a situation.

I imagine, when all this starts happening, the Bats are collectively scattered all over Gotham. When it happens, they try fighting first, but the creatures are fast and deadly. They figure out sound being what they use to track quickly, that they need to be quiet, and they’re trying to save who they can but… in a city, always moving, always going, full of crime and all the screams with only so few Bats and everywhere ELSE having the same issues at the same time?

They get forced to retreat and fallback. None of them are sure where the others are, who’s in active danger, they can’t talk to each other over comms, can’t make any sound too loud.

They just have to be dead quiet and make their way to the cave on foot, make jumps that they know they can land silently on buildings, watch for the death angels when they move, being so so very careful. Unable to check in and see if their packmates are alive or not. Bonds blocked on the job, to not distract their pack, and having to KEEP them that way, while headed for the cave, to not distract each other coming home. 

Oracle being in the Clocktower- frantically shutting down the clock so it doesn’t ring over the city and bring the creatures to her, shutting down any alarms or alerts that could be too loud from her equipment. Sending the news all over Gotham any way she can, as silent as she can, on how the creatures work, and how the survivors can use that knowledge to STAY alive. 

Being scared as she watches trackers, and prays, terrified any time they’re still too long that they may be hurt or dying. Praying she doesn’t see the trackers start moving a vehicle speeds, cause it means they’re going to get chased down by creatures OR a creature has grabbed them and soon the alerts for vitals will scream at her. 

Dick shows up at her tower to get her out with Damian on his heels, so they can get her to the cave, because a city destroyed by invasion is not really wheelchair accessible, much less getting all the way over to the cave silently while trying to get through the rubble. 

Now for my favorite boy:

Tim. Tim in this AU has lost his pack bonds while on Brucequest. He hasn’t accepted a place back in the pack, hurt and distrustful of if the others mean it, after having been pushed out of the pack in his eyes, rejected and unwanted. 

They’ve been trying to fix that, mending bridges and working hard to prove he not only has a place but is WANTED. Building bridges back out with him. By the time the invasion happens, he’s actually starting to believe them- he’s coming to the manor, interacting, trusting they’ll back him, save him, welcome him.  He’s coming around- but he still hasn’t accepted a pack bond yet. Not again.

Didn’t feel quite ready for it, so he doesn’t have a bond with any of the other Bats. He doesn’t know if they’re alive or dead, can’t sense the bond and know for sure, and they can’t check on HIM like that either. 

The panic of both sides of that equation is REAL. All of them have seen these creatures hunt and kill and destroy. And they don’t know if-

This event, this potential of loss on both sides is what makes Tim realize he is NOT willing to keep going without that bond in place. That he wants to feel them in his head again. He could have died or lost any of them, and never had the chance to be bonded to them as pack again, and-

He can’t do that again. He wants the bonds nestled in his chest, wound around his ribs and heart, thriving and anchored in his head. I may write the scene I have in my head out for Tim coming back to the cave last and just having a breakdown cause everyone is THERE, they’re alive. 

This AU is going to be tagged “Quiet Night AU” on my blog, so keep an eye out for more. 

And if you made it this far into this monster post,  PLEASE feel free to send asks in about this verse, I wanna think about/talk about it and share. My brain is turning over all kinds of snapshots of moments in this verse, and I’d love to hear what yall wanna see from it, what questions or scenes you have in mind. Just address in the Asks that it’s for the Quiet Night AU. Edit: I ended up writing the blurble with Tim making it back to the cave found HERE

[mycosmicbackyard]

My lovely daughters

I want to give you world with moon and stars from moment since the first of you arrived I wished to build my nest, to fight and strive, to journey through the farthest, miles afar

I want to give you solar flares of wealth, to rest within the comforts of your home, through cultures and in landscapes, travel, roam! With bodys, minds, emotion filled with health

I wanted you to know that I was yours that I would help you out in any way, that I would build foundations and to stay and I would fight the crisis and the wars

Though, decades gave me lessons of its growth, like time I grew, evolved and learned of life, and maybe I got bitter, perchance strife, for I am one, and cannot cover both

You’re different, opposites, like day and night, you're full of life, your will to be is strong, and I am grateful in my humbled sight; for maybe, you will find where you belong?

I cannot let you see my blackest thoughts, I cannot let you feel my darkest sights, for I have felt the tragic touch of loss, and I have traveled through the darkest nights

Protective, I may be, perhaps too much, I cannot let you be where i have been, it is not yours, Pandora's Box to touch to see the nights and horrors I have seen

But i will let you listen to Life's tale, which always is the opposite of both, for life, it carries Light and with its Veil; of Darkness is potentials of your growth

And secrets of my family, filled with shame, will die when I inhale of my last breath, cause deep within, I carry sacret flame, so all those lies will burn and reach for death

And you will feel your lives with freedom, love, within you rests the tales of Newborn Light, and I will be there, smiling from above, too see how you will live from deep delight.

[mi-i-zori]

When Silence is No More - 2

CoD - Astronauts!141

SUMMARY : A quick thought about the 141 being stationed on a space station and catching the eyes of a cosmic horror.

WARNINGS : A few lines mentioning blood and death in Simon’s part. This is intended to be a subtle kind of horror, so it might be unsettling.

I do not allow anyone to translate, re-use or re-publish my works, be it here or on any other platform, including AI.

CoD AUs - Masterlist

Main Masterlist

The song never stops. Covering their ears in the hopes of getting a few seconds of silence is useless. If anything, it only seems to get louder, as if they were trapping it inside of their heads instead.

It soon get mixed with a series of strange knocks on the windows. It soon evolves into banging, violent and loud, shaking their very bones painfully. It wakes them up at night, when the nightmares seem to quiet down.

They barely sleep anymore.

-

The silhouettes are getting clearer. Instead of playing hide and seek, they now linger behind the windows. Cooing. Whispering. Watching. Despite their best efforts, the strange, flashing lights burning behind them make it impossible to make out the details of their bodies. But the team knows they’re far from being the stranded humans they once tried to think they were once the knocking and banging echoed on the walls of the station. For they don’t seem to wear any protection against the ruthless void, and their eyes glow dangerously among the shadows. Catching them coaxes a sudden, ear-shattering screech from the cosmic depths, full of tortured wails and mad laughter. It rattles their minds and bones, lingering in every single one of their cells for hours afterwards.

The silhouettes, however, always disappear in the blink of an eye.

-

Kyle remembers every single one of his nightmares.

Most of the time, he sees groups of countless birds fly in an underwqter sky with fire licking at their wings, so quick and graceful, leaving burning embers in their wake. Around them, flames erupt from clouds of lightning. He floats among them, then gets carried away by silent, violent currents. Asteroids collide in his chest, and he feels the deep rumble of their fall echo in his bones, bounce around the walls of his body like shockwaves and bass. Colours resonate with the otherworldly sounds around him, pulsing in his eyes as silence turns everything back to a black and white monotony. The symphony is demonic, hellish even - but beautiful and mesmerizing all the same.

Then the dream shatters. Shards of glass escort him back to the waking world, mind shredded and numb.

And the banging continues.

-

Sometimes, Simon hears a voice behind him. Familiar, and clear as day. « Simon, » it calls out, « did you get any news of Tommy ? »

His mother sounds worried - scared, even. It takes him back to those times when he had to fish his brother out of muddy sidewalks, barely conscious due to the drugs flowing through his veins. Barely alive.

His broken, guttural groans still echo in his ears, and the memory becomes too real when Simon sees Tommy’s lifeless body float in the corridors of the station, littered in needle and bullet holes, leaking bubbles of blood against the white walls. Then his mother joins in the macabre scene, with his sister in law and nephew, replaying the disastrous day he lost them all, this time in the infinite cosmos. The sight is scorching, akin to the sun - it burns his mind, the ashes clogging his throat and lungs. Thick, dry and heavy.

They’re gone the second Simon blinks. But the visions keep haunting him now, and he once collapsed under the pain tearing through his guts. It was Kyle who found him, wandering aimlessly through the space station, unresponsive, with a living death clawing at his face.

« Thought you were dead, Sir, » he said once Simon came back to his senses. The man only grunted in response.

For a moment, it felt like he was.

-

More and more static covers the voices of their colleagues back on Earth. Price can barely decipher their words anymore - but they seem to hear him perfectly. It’s as if nothing was wrong on their side, as if they didn’t hear him ask to repeat themselves more and more often. The few words he manages to catch seem joyful, unbothered ; a stark contrast to the exhausted tension haunting his. They always end the calls with a broken « Catch you later, John ! » - leaving him to wonder if there will be a next time.

He tried shouting at them during the latest call, letting his frustration get the best of him. But nothing changed. Their voices remained full of enthusiasm and glitches, and the conversation stayed the same - except he barely understood a single word from his contact.

No matter how much Johnny tried to tweak and twist their wires and cogs, it was impossible to find the source of the malfunction. The systems detected nothing either.

After that, it didn’t take long for the comms to fully go down.

To realize how real the nightmares had always been.

[evilfloralfoolery]

Detestable Misery - Part 2/2

Man, I went hard on the caretaking here, y'all. I do hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing the thing. Heh.

This is some fluffy shit right here.

____________________________________

Indigo lolls his head back against the arm of the couch with a congested sigh.  No, he did not really wish for aid from anyone, particularly not this shockingly gentle brute. But admitting that this illness had practically devastated his reserves is even worse.

“Okay.”  Grimm pats his wrist like some manner of damsel in distress.  “Be right back.”  

Indigo has nearly dozed off within the ten minute span of Grimm’s departure and the other man kneels beside him, knuckles brushing his cheek.

“You okay to walk?”

Is he?  He catches Grimm’s gaze for a moment and shakes his head.  

“Don’t worry about it.”

A soft noise of unease escapes him as Grimm slips his arms beneath his body, lifting him from the couch as if he weighs nothing at all. The fabric shifting against his skin is a giddy sort of discomfort, but his need to regain at least some semblance of composure is far greater than his need to disclose the level of how much his fever may be adversely affecting him.  As if he has the stamina for such theaterics. 

The resistance against his own skin does not go unnoticed by Grimm, who does his best to shift Indigo into a comfortable position.

“It’s all good,” he says.  “I’ve got you.” 

Gods, there it is again . . .

Grimm’s steps are sure and even, jostling Indigo as little as possible, as if he is a precious and fragile thing, something to be cared for in the most scared of manners.  And it is the consummate professional who is at the mercy of this rough-mannered mercenary, one hand upon Grimm’s chest, the other other curled within his own lap.

He carries Indigo as close to the edge of the claw foot tub as he is able and sets him gently upon his feet, hands upon his waist to steady him.

“Let’s get these off.” 

His pajamas.  Yes, one would have to remove those in order to climb into the massive tub. Grimm holds his gaze, intent and warm, but full of nothing but attentive concern rather than the usually overtly sexual candor. 

Indigo nods once.  “Do as you must.”  

Grimm unbuttons his top, slides it from his shoulders and drapes it over the chair near the bathtub.  The pants and undergarments follow, tugged slowly over his hips and down his legs, placed upon the seat of the chair.

Indigo allows the other man to help him into the bath, guiding him down into the water with a slow leverage of weight and limbs.  Once Indigo is properly submerged, Grimm takes a seat beside the tub, allowing him to enjoy the warmth seeping into his chilled skin.  Surely his fever will spike in such warm water, but Indigo cannot be bothered at present.  He leans back against the slope of the tub and sighs, shifting his feet against the smooth porcelain.

“That good?”

“Wonderful,” Indigo replies. 

He runs a damp hand through his hair, finding it in unmanageable disarray.  Perhaps he had been sweating in his sleep a bit more than he had realized.

Ugh, what a sight he must be.

“Grimm,” he says.  “Would you mind fetching the brush near the sink?”

“Already got it.”  Grimm holds up said-brush.  “Can’t have you walking around looking like a damn ‘80s horror movie.” 

Indigo’s laugh evolves into a weak cough, his voice catching into a pathetic rendition of ragged silk. “I appreciate your concern.”

“Yeah, whatever.”  Grimm flips and catches the brush a few times without glancing at it, a lazy yet somehow attractive skill.  “How about you just sit there and let me handle it.” 

Indigo starts to argue, to contend that he can most certainly brush his own hair, but the words die in his throat before they can so much as consider passing his lips. “I would like that very much, thank you.”  

Grimm sets to work untangling the absolute disaster atop his head one lock at a time, using both his finger and the brush to detangle and rearrange it.  “You really need to wash this shit.” He squeezes Indigo’s shoulder. “I’m gonna do it.”

“Grimm, really.  You needn’t–”

“Shut up, Indy.” 

And so he does.

Again, Grimm is prepared, having procured a pitcher of sorts from gods only know where. He takes his time dampening Indigo’s long locks with a slow stream of water, carefully avoiding his eyes and face and begins to lather the shampoo through his hair with such gentle, rhythmic pressure that a soft groan escapes his lips.

“Good?” 

“Quite,” Indigo murmurs.  

“Lean back.” 

Grimm rinses the lather away with the pitcher near the window ledge, cradling Indigo’s head in one massive palm, not a single sud crossing his field of vision.  After applying the requisite conditioner, he moves to Indigo’s neck, his shoulders, fingers tracing a soapy path down his arms, working into his hands, lingering upon each finger.

“How long have you been like this?”

Indigo tilts his head back, the warm slope of the tub supporting him.  “A few days, I suppose.  I assumed it would be gone by this time, but it seems to have worsened. Nothing to be done for it, really.  It will simply have to run its course.”

Nothing but the soothing glide of Grimm’s hands over his body, cleansing every inch of him until the ache of his skin has grown complicit and treacherously responsive.  Surely his occasional soft groan will implicate him, or the roll of his eyes before they flutter shut with bliss.  To his credit, Grimm says nothing, but works with diligent thoroughness until Indigo grows limp within the confines of the tub, slipping low towards the water.

“Hey, now.”  Grimm’s voice near his ear.  “You can’t pass out here.”  

“I would if I were able to keep myself from drowning,” Indigo says.

Grimm chuckles.  “That’s not really my kink.”

A soft snort of a laugh escapes him and Indigo muffles it into a damp palm.  

“Time to rinse you off and get you out before the fever fucks up your brain,” Grimm says.

But Indigo has already grown delirious enough to be somewhat careless in spite of himself, a notion he keeps under wraps while Grimm rolls up his sleeves in preparation for extracting him from the warm confines of the water.  He manages to sit up on his own as Grimm lifts him to the edge of the tub where he balances precariously for a moment before he is swaddled in a towel and pulled to his feet.

“Easy,” Grimm says.  

Indigo clutches at his shirt for stability while Grimm pats him dry, combing his damp hair away from his face with one hand.  

“I got the flannel.”  He nods towards the chair where Indigo’s most hideous, yet comfortable pair of pajamas are folded upon the seat. 

“Gods, these are horrid,” Indigo says as he struggles into the soft material, allowing Grimm to basically dress him.

“Nah.”  Grimm fastens the last button. “They’re functional.” He gives the dark gray flannel sleeve a cheeky tug.  “And you’re still pretty.”  

“Hmmn,” Indigo says.  “Because that is my utmost concern.”

He wavers a bit and Grimm slips an arm around his waist to steady him. 

“Nope.” 

Before Indigo can protest, the other man has hefted him into his arms for proper management. 

“It’s fine,” Grimm assures him.  “You ain’t heavy.” 

“Clearly,” Indigo says, the word a drowsy slur.

He leans against Grimm’s chest as the other man carts him towards the bedroom, wincing as the tickle in sinuses seizes him anew.  “Oh, G-Grimm . . .I . . hhuh-hh!”  He ducks into the crook of an elbow with a wrenching, “Hhh–EKGSSCHuh! EKSSSCH! AESSSCHuuh!” 

To his credit, Grimm does not falter, but his grip upon Indigo’s body tightens as he navigates the length of the bedroom.

“Gods, I am so sorry, Grimm.  I do swear I am not doing this on purpose.”  

“I know you’re not,” Grimm says. A sly smile curves one side of his mouth and Indigo feels his face warm with something other than fever. “That’s some shit I’d do.”  

“Honestly, Grimm.”

“Yeah, what of it?”

He sets Indigo gently atop the mattress, pulling the blankets back and mounding a pillow beneath his shoulder.  He nuzzles Indigo’s ear with a warm hint of breath.  “Bless you anyway.”  

“Thank you,” Indigo says with a tired sigh.  

Grimm tucks him beneath the covers with such tender slowness that Indigo can barely look at those honey-brown eyes with his usual cool regard.  Instead, he offers Grimm a weary gaze with a half-hearted smile, resting his hand atop the other man’s knuckles.  Grimm flips his hand so that Indigo’s fingers nestle within his palm, his thumb dragging slow circles across the skin, prickling the hair upon Indigo’s arm to rapt attention.

“You need anything?”

“I . . .”  Indigo licks suddenly dry lips and clears his throat.  “I could use a bit of warmth.”

One dark eyebrow arches.  “Body heat?”

Indigo nods.  “Yes. Although, I understand if you do not wish to--” 

Grimm kicks off his shoes and nudges them beneath the bed and reaches for the buttons on his shirt.  “Mind if I take this damp bullshit off?”

“Of course not,” Indigo says.  

The man strips himself of his shirt, pausing to at least hang it on the back of the nearest chair along with his belt before making his way to the other side of the bed and slipping beneath the sheets.

“Come here,” he says.

Indigo is not one for commands, but this is an invitation, not a demand, and one that he gladly accepts.  He edges closer, fitting his body against the planes of Grimm’s chest, willing and compliant as the other man drapes an arm over his shoulders.  This kind of intimacy is rare and something he affords to no one, but his professionalism is set aside for the moment in favor of comfort.  Grimm’s warmth is compelling and soothing to his fevered body.  Indigo curls against him as tightly as he is able, the fresh handkerchief clutched between his fingers to muffle his indecent sniffling.

And the obnoxious twinge in his sinuses returns with an utter vengeance. 

*IihhEKKTSSH! EKKGTSCCHuh!” 

He curls into himself with a clenching shudder and muffles a horrifically wrenching “-AEKKGSSCH’u!”  into the pillow.

Arms ensnare him in a protective, bracing hold and draw him impossibly closer.

“Bless you,” Grimm murmurs into his still-damp hair. 

“Thank you,” Indigo says, his voice a hoarse whisper. 

A hand brushes his hair aside, hooks it behind his ear.  “You warm enough?”

He certainly is.

“Yes,” Indigo leans back further into Grimm's embrace. “You are very much like having a personal furnace.” 

Grimm chuckles.

Indigo allows himself to relax, a combination of quite a lot of Grimm and heavy blankets lulling him into a complacent warmth, despite his overly sensitive skin. 

“How you feelin’?”

He sniffles thickly and rests his head against Grimm's chest. “Dreadful.”

Again with the chuckling. “Just sleep. I'm not going anywhere.” 

As if he has some type of choice in the matter.  

“Thank you,” he says.  “For . . . caring for me in such a manner, Grimm.”

“Yeah, yeah.”  Grimm’s dismissal is light, even playful. “Sleep, goddamn it.” 

Indigo has already begun to drift into the abyss when Grimm turns out the light. Lips brush a gentle kiss atop his forehead and whatever Indigo might have cared to say is lost somewhere between the darkness of the room and the last remaining threads of his consciousness. 

Finis.

[carpenoctem-if]

Carpe Noctem - Intro Post

DEMO - tba

You are a nobody. A supposedly ordinary human in a world full of powerful beings. Your life is all in all pretty average if not bordering on mind-numbing, like watching paint dry... That is until you were kidnapped and tossed into one especially small carriage to be delivered somewhere only the ancients knew of.

From now on nothing will ever be the same and you need to adapt to the ever-changing outside world as fast as possible. All the while trying to decipher your past and with that your part in an every-growing political conflict that borders to develop into an all out war the world has yet to see.

General content warnings: Bigotry & prejudice, horror elements, interspecies awkwardness, explicit language, depictions of violence, injuries, blood and death, explicit sexual content (if selected), flashbacks of a dark past to unveil, sprinkled with some homophobia here and there & general an unfair treatment of people with disabilities.

FEATURES

-> customizable MC (name, pronouns, appearance, identity)

-> semi-set personality due to evolve (MCs reclusive upbringing forces you to start as someone that's not entirely comfortable with other people and as such you'll be able to choose coping mechanisms your MC will use to compensate such a deficit)

-> 5 characters to romance (3 in book 1, not sure if the other two will follow, they'll probably be fully romanceable in book 2)

-> POVs of the ROs included

-> an open-minded author that is inclined to change some NPCs to fully fledged ROs depending on the general opinion/wishes of readers

-> an emotional roller coaster, all in all nothing for ppl that want a light-hearted theme

-> later on you'll be able to choose part of your race (vampyres, merpeople, demons, shapeshifters, phoenixes -and many more) & with that you can determine and further develop your special skillset. Your heritage will reward you with quite different flavour texts for every possible race there is, so yes. It will matter greatly what you chose. And each of the available races will have disadvantages that could prove quite...fatal in certain situations.

romanceable characters:

the master [Alois|Alice|Alix] (m|f|n) 24 winters

An aloof demeanor at the first glance, A has a cold, strangely shrouded gaze. They're reclusive as fuck, so there isn't much the general population knows about them. Oh. And A is your esteemed master -as if any of you actually want this dynamic... A seems to hate you and your position even more, especially the hidden context it supplies to everyone they meet...

A has almond-shaped silver eyes that always seem distant and unfocused. They have defined cheek bones with mostly soft facial features and quite long, silver hair that is often tied to a simple ponytail. A wears fine dark clothing without other prominent features to despict their wealth.

Content warnings for A's route: denial of feelings aka one of the slowest burns imaginable, domestic violence, implied/referenced rape/non-con, anxiety attacks, self-harm, angst & hurt/comfort

the protector [Leto] (m|f|n) too many to count

Leto is a raven-like creature most would describe as monstrous-looking. They are rarely seen and the few moments they are, death is certain. For many commoners it's enough to see one of Leto's black feathers to warrant a swift escape.

Their past eludes them and you have to wonder - why does some antics of them seem kinda...familiar?

Content warnings for Leto's route: survivor-guilt, body dysphoria, angst, captivity & enslavement, torture, ptsd

the assassin [Zane|Zoey] (m|f) 28 winters

Z is everything their mother wanted them to be. Her own personal weapon. One she is now inclined to use for her vendetta against you.

They have dark brown hair with intelligent hazel green eyes that seem to observe their surroundings constantly. Z was raised with stories about you, stories you know nothing about. How can it be that they seem to know more of you and your family than you yourself?

Should it worry you that they sound extremely resolute in stating their sole purpose is to rid the world of your existance?

Content warnings for Z's route: enemies to frenemies to lovers, eating disorder, alcohol-addiction, a tendency of morbid jealousy, past emotional abuse & manipulation

??? [redacted]

??? [also redacted]

more info tba

Small note of the author:

Everything is slow burn in this - even the character customization, cause I want to add those moments seamlessly into the story.

I tend to take my time. You can expect me to heavily focus on the characters and their feelings, with a slight disregard to describing the environment and such. I work with minimalistic efforts to still give a sense of what I imagine everything to be but with the intention to leave fine details to the reader's own imagination.

I'll try to be considerate of everyone's preferences, especially in the more kinky parts of the story. There'll be versions for more assertive characters as well as more passive one's. Though I should add that the ROs all have their own set of bias that they prefer. However there will be growth throughout the story, including that.

The gravity of your choices will intensify throughout book 1, especially as you get to know the Circle and the Court and every other political hive of intrigue.

And yes. You can die. The ROs can die. Almost everyone will be able to at some point, I guess. Though I don't like the idea of writing a total distopia, don't expect me to change my mind regarding that one that easily.

More infos will be added over time. I'll post lore snippets of my sketchbook soon, like the worldmap, the general outlines of the Circle & the Court, the different races and such.

Asks are welcomed.

[m-jelly]

Hi, Miss Jelly!!! Sorry it took a while for me to reply, huhu. I'm the one who requested the Pacific Rim inspired one. It's totally alright, I understand! Basically, Pacific Rim is like the cadets, and soldiers control a big robot from the inside.

I'd really love one with an Earth based, and since they have suit armors and advanced tech already, it'll be awesome if the titans evolve into something alien like, you know? Hehe. I think it would be fun to have levi and the reader in a secret relationship, but since he's always head over heels for them, he'd be all smug , heart eyes and all when reader does badass things.

Honestly, that's all I ask hehe. Just have fun with writing it, Miss Jelly. You can add whatever you wish if you want. Just wanna see Levi adore reader so much 🥹. Thank you so much! 🫶🩷🎀

Lovable strength.

Levi x fem!reader

Future AU, romance, action, being a couple, fighting, armour, tech, love.

Earth is fighting off an invasion from the Titan alien race. At the front of an elite insane team is Captain Levi and his Lieutenant, you. While you're leading the charge, behind the scenes the two of you are deeply romantically involved with each other.

Tag list below the cut

"This land will be red with the blood of human scum! This is our planet! Our land! Those rats who hide will be dragged out, publicly executed and used for our amusement!" His voice rang and echoed over the war-torn land. A wide smirk spread over his cracked lips as his soldiers screamed in praise. He knew he had to continue. "My Titans!"

"Tch." Levi pressed his earpiece as he spoke to you, his lover, on a private channel. "Does he ever shut the fuck up?"

A sweet laugh came from you. "Come on now, my love, you know very well he won't stop."

He shifted in his full-bodied tight armour, the groves and joints moving with him. "He's a fucking dumbass. He has no clue we have him surrounded."

"That's why this is so funny."

He huffed as he felt frustrated. "I want to be with you."

"I can fix this."

"How?"

You hummed a laugh. "Watch, my love."

Levi watched the leader yapping on further, but something sparkled in the light of the sun. Levi shifted his head and tapped his helmet so he could see a bit better. "I'm watching."

His eyes widened when he saw a flash of colour go right past him. The leader stopped talking as a body, Levi loved exploring at every opportunity, flew right by the leader. No words came from the man, his eyes rolled back, his knees slammed to the floor and his head slid from his neck and dropped to the floor.

You had cut his head clean off.

Levi felt an uncontrollable rush of arousal inside him. It was like watching a killer angel in battle. As soon as you flew past and the Titans began to panic, your body twisted up in the air allowing you to look down. Little objects flew from you. Crackles and speaks snapped through the still air and a rain of explosions began.

Levi smirked. "I fucking love that woman." He rose to his feet. "Attack!"

The Titans who survived the blasts watched in pure horror as armoured soldiers launched up into the air showing they were surrounded. All soldiers wore armour and on their full-bodied armour stood proudly the symbol that terrified the Titans.

The wings of freedom.

The most insane, crazy, dangerous, skilled and suicidal humans were here and no one was getting out alive unless they wanted it. Screams of pure fear and horror ripped through the sky. Titans fell before they could even reach their massive mech machines. They had lost before the battle had even begun. Their leader was dead and their supplies were destroyed.

Their leader was wrong. Humans were a fearful race with a drive to survive and fight that was so strong that it was pure insanity.

A wide grin spread on your face, you enjoyed this too much and being able to fight for your planet alongside your lover was a dream. Your blades ripped and tore through Titans as they screamed and begged for mercy. There was no mercy for them, not after what they did, not after the slaves they took or the blood they farmed for their machines to run.

No one was getting out alive.

With a flick of your body, you fired your jets on your suit and launched forwards. Now with your blades on your back again, you ripped your guns off your thighs and began firing. As your agile body twisted and turned in the summer sun, victory was clearly on the horizon.

Little bots floated around you and Levi showing the powerful winged leaders who would bring victory to the human race. Projected to almost every screen on the planet, people watched as you and Levi used your jets on your suits to move and looked like you were dancing together around the battlefield.

The two of you met together before stopping your jets. You free fell together towards the ground. With eyes locked onto each other through your helmets, there was an unspoken love between the two of you. As the ground grew closer and your love stronger, you fired your jets, twisted your bodies and shot the last Titans together before landing on the stage where the leader once stood.

You panted next to Levi as you admired the land around you. You released a long sigh. "Well, do you wanna do the honours and raise the flag?"

Levi pulled the baton off his lower back and held it up high. "Thank you." He pressed the release button causing the baton to turn into a massive pole with a flag on the end. "Our wings of freedom win again." He slammed it into the ground so all could see.

You hummed a laugh. "That was hot." You laughed as he looked over at you. "Don't worry, we're on a private channel still. The things I'm going to do to you tonight."

"I can't wait." He released a long sigh. "You know, what you did was incredibly dangerous."

"I know."

"Well?"

You folded your arms. "Well, what? We needed to get rid of him. He was annoying you with all his yapping, so I took care of him for you. Besides, those Titans panic and disperse when their leaders are killed. They're nothing without them."

"You're right." He pouted. "I just...I worry about you."

You reached over and held his pinkie. "I understand."

"I love you."

You squeezed his pinkie. "I love you so much." You shifted on the spot. "Wanna find somewhere private and make out?"

Levi perked up. "Yes please!"

@ladycheesington @levisbrat25 @nyxiieluna @li-anne @galactict3a

@youre-ackermine @thebobaprincess @2moth-anon2 @cypidity

@nbinairyn @bts-spnlvr12 @darkstarlight82 @emilyyyy-08

@levistealeaf @pelicanpizza @hideandgopeep @notgoodforlife

@demonic-bird @searriously

[vixstarria]

Kinktober Day 13 - Mind control

For every day of the month of October I will be posting a little snippet following prompts listed in this post. Most of these will not be full fics, but rather short snippets, set-ups, and, in a few cases, copied bits and pieces of fics I have already published. But, if there is a lot of interest and feedback on any of the snippets, they might just evolve into full fics, so keep that in mind.

Disclaimer: This one's really not my cup of tea, soz, but here's a mindcontrol-adjacent preamble ficlet kinda thing.

The topic of Asmodea’s mortality could not be avoided that night, though they both tried to brush it back under the rug as quickly as they could.

“If only you could just turn me,” Asmodea said, wistfully. She leaned against the railing of their terrace, looking down into the night-shrouded streets below. “It would be so simple then.”

“I wouldn’t do that to you even if I could,” said Astarion, likewise staring off into the distance. The pain, the abject horror of his transformation. The helplessness. The sheer irreversibility of it all. He could never put her through it, not even if she asked.

A silence hung in the air for a while, and he thought she would drop the topic, but to his dismay she continued.

“Wouldn’t that be strange? Having me as your spawn? You’d say ‘jump’ and my body would have no choice but to react and obey. You could just order it to do anything, couldn’t you?”

Astarion wasn’t sure ‘strange’ was the right word, but a myriad of possibilities did immediately begin spinning in his mind.

“Well that’s not exactly how it w-” he began before abruptly cutting himself off, with a sigh and a roll of his eyes. “It doesn’t matter anyway. It will never happen, and even if it were to - I would give you my blood immediately to grant you your freedom.”

He now noticed that she was watching him, with a curious look on her face. He turned to lean back against the balustrade.

“But suppose you didn’t… What kind of master do you think you would be?”

“I wouldn’t. Be one.” He grit through his teeth. “…Darling, is there a point to this discussion?”

The look on her face was turning more and more wicked with each passing second.

“Do you want to play a little game..?”

Astarion didn’t say anything, but only narrowed his eyes at her. Her lips curled in a devilish smile.

“Why don't we pretend that you’re my lord and master, and I have no choice but to obey your every command,” she said in a velvety voice. She approached him, standing close and running a finger down his chest.

His immediate instinct was to protest, tell her it was a terrible idea, but… Was it..?

“What does my master desire?” she whispered in his ear, sending a shiver down his spine.

Despite himself, he felt blood rush towards his groin, his pants feeling too tight within seconds. He swallowed hard and leaned away, catching her chin with his fingers and tilting it to make her look him in the eyes. A few moments passed in a wordless exchange.

“Kneel,” he said hoarsely.

My Kinktober masterlist and prompts post

[dingodad]

who is ericka? 👀

ericka was a very brief but deeply contrived roleplay plot in which braxas, in what can only be described as attention seeking behaviour, stopped sleeping in slime for a week and started hallucinating that his body was being taken over by an angel. though because of the arbitrary constraints of the roleplay i was participating in i wasn't allowed to actually say the being that took over his account while braxas was revived as his dream self was an angel and instead i had to pretend she was like, the psychic spirit of braxas' ancestor which had attached to him or something. even though summoning angels is like a canon power homestuck characters can have. but whatever

it was not a particularly well thought out plotline and it petered out pretty quickly. (i think someone ended up taking braxas' spare body in a trade for like, his horns or his rare blood or something? this sort of shit was kind of always happening to him.) but the idea of pathetic braxas having an awesome shadow the hedgehog type alter ego was too good for me to not revisit

having been a stupid haired anime boy with ancient egyptian motifs there was always the lingering possibility that i do some yugioh shit to braxas. and since this is trolls that also inevitably means doing some Aliens type body horror shit to him. so in this version while doing routine tomb looting as part of his job braxas inhales some kind of Pharaoh's Curse and subsequently develops a growth in his skull that causes him to hallucinate that he's sharing a body with some ancient alien pharaoh. and then he gives birth to the ancient alien pharaoh out of his head

basically it seems like in the timeline where braxas doesn't either a) sort out his shit or b) play a game of sgrub and have the barriers in his mind traumatically disintegrated, his feminine aspect will find a way to literally manifest itself out of his brain and proceed to ruin his life by outcunting him in every conceivable way

because this ericka is basically a legendary collectible monster i thought it would be funny if she had to be Literally fed common monsters in order to grow. and does this mean that as she evolves into a super sexy SSSR she develops the full figure that deep down braxas wishes he might be able to have if he started to give a shit about looking after his body: yes of course