#the thirst for knowledge is strong so i made a tag for it

[rayne-dr0ps]

A Bit About This Blog

First of all:

Hello, my name is Rayne but online I also go by Signal, either name works to get my attention.

I like horror, tabletop games, horror and tabletop games, DC Comics, Ghostbusters, Critical Role, all that fun nerdy stuff.

I write. Fairly self explanatory, I’d say. I mostly write poetry but I also have an epic fantasy book series in the works and that’s honestly been taking up most of the majority of my free time. Maybe I’ll actually upload my stuff at some point, who knows.

I have a masterpost which you can find here

I may also occasionally post original works for my book series that I don’t feel like legitimately publishing with the series.

Thank you my darling, whoever you are, for reading. May this post give you some insight onto how this blog works and may this blog give you insight into how my mind works, should you come across it at any point in your travels please let me know.

-Sincerely, your lovely little weather pattern.

[sanctuary1988]

~ Flames Of Passion |15| Gwi

French: /the petals of love/

Pairing: Gwi x fem! noble! Reader

Summary: A heartless vampire falls in love for the first time in centuries of loneliness. Passion, secrets, betrayal and love drown the royal palace. Will your love for Gwi prevail through time or will it wither away like a fallen rose petal? Maybe love was his punishment, maybe love was your salvation. Or wasn't it a curse to you both? Because, who can beat a race against time? Who can love in the dark? Who can love without truth? After all, even the most beautiful flower will wither away and end in ashes of time, remembered only by the one who cherished her the most.

Warnings: DARLING, THIS WARNINGS MAY CONTAIN SPOILERS FOR THE CHAPTER. PROCEED AT YOUR OWN RISK!!! angst, feral Gwi, typical vampire stuff [biting, blood, killing, blood drinking], violence, burglary?, murder, blood, Chief Counsellor (he is a warning for himself), mentions of drugs/being drugged, fire, possessiveness, typical period misogyny, love, confession, kissing, battling of emotions, TENSION!, flower is described to be shorter than Gwi, historical! AU, royal! AU?, cannon copilant (let me know if I missed anything!)

Word Count: 4.5k words

A/N: I know this has been an awaited chapter for many lol so I did my best to finish it as soon as I could. I really hope you will enjoy it and also I loved writing this chapter so much because it has a dialogue I had planned for this series since chapter 2 🙈 lmao. ❤️❤️❤️

Tagging: @my-day6 | @yumisventingmachine | @yukihatesreoyo | @anonymous2828 | @solivagant444 | 🙈❤️*let me know if you liked to be tagged or if you want me to get you off my taglist!

Please let me know your thoughts in the comments! I'd love to hear from you, loves. Enjoy! 🫶🫶🫶

Dusk had settled. The moon hung low in the night sky as deep hues of purple and blue mingled together with the sparkly darkness of the night that painted the sky in its eternal shadow. 

Gwi walked to his underground palace. His hunger satiated, his robes stained with the blood of his victims. But now, as his thirst was satiated and his mind was calm he yearned for nothing else but to return to the palace of shadows where his rose lived among the darkness that was his sole existence. 

The flickering torches casted long shadows on the stone walls as he made his way through the labyrinthine corridors. His heart, usually cold and unfeeling, warmed at the thought of you. He pictured you in your room, brushing your hair or in the library engrossed in one of the many books his sanctuary of knowledge held within its walls. 

And yet the throne room was filled with a deafening silence; the only thing he could hear was his heart. He frowned, you had said you’d be waiting for him and expected for you to receive him but your absence made his heart sting with the disappointment of your broken promise. 

“Petal?”

The vampire called out for you but he only received his own echo as a response. He made his way to the library, his long strides eating up the distance in large strides. But you were not there. Your scent was not as strong as it should be if you were there just as you had promised. 

He hurried to your room, his steps frantic as he entered the large space with the tall cherry blossom tree standing proudly in the middle of the room. The air was soft with the smell of the pink flowers but he couldn’t see you, he couldn’t smell you. 

“Flower, are you here?”

But here was no response at all. He frowned. The room was empty. The bedding was neatly made, the small table where the vase with roses was untouched with some petals already falling onto the surface. His eyes fell upon your desk, where the rose he had given you lay, still vibrant and fresh. Next to it was a letter. A letter that bore your father’s seal. 

Gwi snatched the letter with the broken seal, his dark eyes running over the words inked into the paper. Each word, each threat was enough to make his heart burn with the flames of desperation. His eyes turned crimson in anger, his knuckles white as he crumbled the letter before it fell to the ground. 

The realisation that you had been taken against your will filled him with a fury he had never known. His normally composed demeanour shattered, leaving only the raw, primal anger of a man who had been robbed of his most precious treasure.

He turned around, his robes flying behind him as the vampire lord left his underground palace. His domain. His kingdom to retrieve his stolen flower. His beauty among the darkness of his world. 

Gwi’s steps were purposeful as he left his sanctuary, the cool night air kissed his sharp features as the nature of his existence resurfaced from the chains of his control. His eyes mirrored the colour of blood, his fangs elongated and there was a sudden thirst that took a hold of his mind. But it wasn't because of hunger. It was a thirst for revenge. 

The journey was a blur. His supernatural speed carried him through the city and the woods before he arrived at the mansion of one of the most powerful men in Joseon. The Chief Counsellor didn’t know that by taking the vampire’s petal he had just signed his death sentence. 

The guards at the entrance saw a dark figure emerging from the woods. The moon was not high enough to illuminate the dark path ahead. But the red glint in his eyes gave him away. Gwi approached the two guards, his hands around their throats before he lifted them off the ground, their feet kicking the air. He hissed at them before their necks snapped with a single movement of his wrists. The bodies crumbled to the dirty floor and he advanced, his walk commanding as he entered the mansion of the traitor he had nurtured under his throne of blood and darkness.

“My Lord, is there anything else I can do for you?”

The Chief Counsellor didn’t even look at Ji-ho, his loya albeit young servant before he was dismissing him for the night. 

“Don’t bother. Tomorrow we are leaving to meet with the Crown Prince. Make sure everything is in order.”

“Yes, My Lord.”

The boy bowed down before he walked backwards and left the room, sliding the door shut as he walked down the corridor with quick steps. The flickering candles cast long shadows on the walls. Ji-ho’s footsteps echoed softly down the dimly lit corridor, his mind occupied with the tasks the demanding noble man had put over his shoulders. As he rounded a corner, the sound of a commotion reached his ears and he couldn’t help but fasten his pace. Curiosity being his worst enemy. 

He looked over one of the corners of the nearest wall, his eyes widening in surprise as he saw a tall man dressed in noble robes effortlessly dispatching the guards who tried to block his path. The vampire's movements were swift and lethal, his strength undeniable.

Fear gripped Ji-ho's heart, he turned on his heel and sprinted back toward the Chief Counsellor's room, his breath coming in quick, panicked gasps. Along the way, he alerted more guards, his voice urgent and breathless.

“We must protect the lord! The vampire is here!”

The guards followed the young servant all to the Chief Counsellor’s room. The smell of panic rotted through the air, the clinking of the swords could be heard at the distance as well as the frantic steps of the guards sprinting to the old man’s study. 

Ji-ho slid open the doors without knocking, the Chief Counsellor looked up from his desk with a frown between his brows and frustration in his gaze. But as the guards swarmed into the room, he stood up and demanded an explanation from his servant. 

“What is the meaning of this?”

“My Lord… the vampire-”

But Ji-ho never got to finish that sentence as the doors to the study opened harshly and in came Gwi, his once white robes were now crimson with the blood of his obsession. The hallways were strewn with the bodies of those who had tried to stop him, their lifeless forms a testament to his wrath. He moved with a predator's grace, his senses heightened by the scent of blood and the urgency to find you.

“Get him!”

The Chief Counsellor ordered and the battle began. Gwi licked his lips before he fought the men who tried to keep you away from him. Each strike, each stab was proof of his maddening love. How dare your father take you from him? How dare he keep you to himself? 

How. 

Dare. 

He. 

Blood spilled over the floor and over the once beautiful ornates that decorated the room. The white tapestry was now tainted in crimson and the shouts and clanks of swords filled the room. One of the guards sent a direct attack to Gwi but he managed to dodge it yet the sword knocked over some candles, the flames quickly devouring the fabric that hung from the ceiling. 

It reeked of death as he drank the last drop of blood from the remaining guard before he dropped the body to the floor. His eyes were red with fury and the need, the urge to kill. With slow steps Gwi approached the Chief Counsellor. Ji-ho had tried to stop the vampire but his futile attempt ended with his blood on Gwi’s lips and his body on the ground already starting to get enveloped in the flames. 

“Where is she?”

Your father swallowed hard, trying to maintain his composure as he lifted his chin in defiance even when he knew he was already dead by the single glint in the vampire’s eyes. 

“Y-you’ll never find her.”

And yet, his voice trembled and stuttered despite his attempt to sound powerful and confident for the immortal being who now threatened to kill him with his gaze alone. But the monster smiled, a cold, dead smile that stretched over his handsome and sharp features while the cracking of the engulfing flames was the only thing he could hear. 

“I will find her. But the longer I take, the more painful your death is going to be.”

With a swift motion, Gwi grabbed the Chief Counsellor by the throat, lifting him off the ground. The older man struggled, his hands clawing at the vampire’s iron grip, but it was futile for his strength was far beyond anything a human could match.

“Where. Is. She?”

He demanded again. His deep voice a deathly whisper. Your father gasped for breath, his eyes widening with fear until he managed to choke out the words that were no longer enough to save his life. 

“I-in her room… down the h-hallway-”

Gwi’s crimson eyes reflected the flames that were consuming the room and most likely the entire mansion but those flames were also a reflection of the fire that burned his heart. With a snarl, he threw the Chief Counsellor aside. The man hit the ground with a sickening thud, unconscious or worse but Gwi couldn’t care. Not when the fire spread and the smoke thickened. Not when he had to find you. 

His heart pounded with a mix of rage and desperation as he sprinted down the corridor, his robes billowing behind him, the flames danced over the walls but his mind was focused on getting to you. With urgent steps he reached the bedroom at the end of the hallway, the double doors banged open against the adjacent walls as he opened them with his vampiric strength.

The moment his gaze laid on you, he felt his heart drop. His eyes returned to their usual deep brown colour as he dropped to his knees next to the silk bedding. His hands, so rough and tainted with so much blood cupped your face with delicate movements as if you were a glass doll he was afraid to break. 

“Petal, wake up.”

But you didn’t stir. You couldn’t. The drugs held you under their chains and left you dancing in the realm of nothingness, of sleep. Of darkness. A tightness gripped at his chest and his eyes stung with tears, whether they were due to the smoke or real fear for the life of his petal he didn’t know anymore.

“(y/n), please.”

He brushed a strand of hair out of your face, even in sleep you were still so beautiful. The very vision of beauty he had missed through his eternal life. He lifted you up, pressing your body against his chest but just as he was about to slide his other arm under your knees, the rackling of the chains rattled against the sound of his own heartbeat drumming in his ears. 

Gwi looked down at your wrist, his lips parted at the sight of the iron cuff that kept you tied to the room. To your past. To this house. To the life you had escaped when you had taken his hand that very day in the gardens. When he decided he wanted to keep you for himself. 

Gwi lay you back down on the bedding, his hands tingling with the need to keep you in his arms. But he needed to free you. 

His eyes painted crimson once more as his hands gripped the shackles. His knuckles turned white with the force as he gripped them tightly and with a grunt he broke the hot iron. Your skin was marred by the tightness and it pained him to see your pristine skin so hurt and damaged. 

“I’ll get you out of here.”

Gwi picked you up once more, one hand around your shoulders and the other under your knees before he stood up with you cradled in his arms, holding you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. Which you were. You were his treasure in his world of darkness. 

The flames had spread rapidly, the heat was becoming unbearable but he knew he had to get you out of that burning inferno. He moved swiftly, his heightened senses guiding him through the maze of corridors and fire. 

The smoke was thick, stinging his eyes and filling his lungs, but he pressed on, driven by a fierce determination to get you to safety. The mansion groaned under the weight of the fire, beams collapsing and walls crumbling but Gwi's steps were sure and purposeful.

Gwi carried you out of the burning mansion, his grip tightening around your smaller form as he pressed you against his chest. He could feel your shallow breaths against his neck, could hear the weak pulse of your heart through his enhanced senses. The beautiful blue dress you had once worn was now ashen and dirty. 

He knelt on the ground, the estate consuming in flames behind him as he looked down at you. Your red hairpin caught the moonlight and he sighed as he had you in his arms once more. 

“My sweet flower, you have to wake up. Open your eyes, for me. Please-”

One of his hands supported your back while the other cradled your face, his thumb caressing the apple of your cheek. He sighed, closing his eyes as his forehead rested against yours. Feeling a tsunami of emotions drown his heart. The desperation, the anger, the fear came crumbling down as he looked at you with such tenderness that belied the rampage that had gripped his soul and left the estate in a bloody bath of flames and ashes. 

“Let’s go home, flower.”

And with that, he picked you up once more, carrying you in his strong embrace through the forest and back to the underground palace. Where you belonged. In his dark domain. In his kingdom of the night. By his side. 

The sound of soft leaves rustling filled your ears. That was the first thing you were aware of before you were to open your eyes. There was a headache that nagged at the back of your skull, causing a groan to escape your lips. Your eyes opened and you stared at the ceiling of your bedroom. The scent of the cherry blossom reached your senses and you instantly calmed down. You knew where you were. You felt instantly safe when you recognised that you were back in the underground palace. 

With slow movements you sat up and noticed you were alone in the room. The only company you had were the shadows casted by the flickering candles around the large bedroom. 

But it didn’t make any sense. The last thing you remembered was going to your father’s estate upon his daring letter. You remembered all the rage you had felt as you read his words, all the frustration to the man who was supposed to protect you but in reality he only used you as his pawn in a game you never agreed to play. 

You remembered the tea he had given you, the dizziness that had wrapped your mind. And how he had looked at you in disdain before your world turned black. 

With a sigh, you looked around the bedroom and your eyes caught sight of the rose Gwi had given you the day he left. It was on your desk, the petals were withering away and an immense sadness pulled at the strings of your heart at the sight of the sad flower that had once been so beautiful. 

You pulled the covers from your body, noticing you were no longer wearing the blue hanbok but were now in a simple white gown, the skirts not as puffy as your usual dresses, the softness of the fabric was more delicate against your skin. And your hair was down, cascading behind your back as you stood up. 

The drug was still in your system and you stumbled, catching yourself against the full-length mirror in your room. You looked up and watched the reflection of yourself, feeling a burning desire that consumed your senses. You were alone in the bedroom. But you craved his presence. It could only have been Gwi who had taken you back to the underground palace. 

Your eyes filled with tears with the need that cursed through your veins and you forced yourself to part from the mirror, walking across the room and through the corridor that led to the throne room. 

Gwi sat on his throne, the candles around him sharpened his ethereal beauty. He heard your footsteps before you entered the spacious room. He smelled your delectable scent as you approached him more and more with each passing second. His heart quickened and his knuckles turned white as fisted his hands over his lap. 

“My Lord…”

Your voice was soft. Shy even. But he didn’t look at you. He couldn’t. Not now. Not when his mind screamed at him to be angry at you and his heart whispered at him to be relieved that you were fine and alive with him. 

From the corner of his eye he saw you move through the room, your steps hesitant and he could practically taste whatever herb your father had given you mingling with the scent that kept him addicted to you. 

“My Lord, please.”

His eyes met yours in a cruel dance of emotions. You swallowed as he met your gaze, for his eyes were as dark as ever but you saw no emotion whatsoever in his dark pools of eternal secrets. There was no storm of emotions in them, no warmth, only the coldness of his authority that drowned you in a freezing embrace of regret. 

“You disobeyed me.”

Gwi stood up and you took a step back. His towering height made you shrink within yourself. You had never seen him so cold and stern with you. Not like this. He began descending the steps that led to his throne slowly, like a predator waiting to pounce on his prey. 

“I told you to not leave the underground palace.”

His hissed words made you flinch and you continued to walk backwards as he approached you, instinctively trying to put some kind of distance between you and the barely contained anger that held his heart prisoner. 

“Are my orders nothing to you?”

You shook your head, gasping silently as your back collided with one of the columns in the large space. 

“No, My Lord.”

His eyes narrowed at your response, his sharp features hardening even further. His approach was deliberate, each step getting him closer and closer to you, the candlelight accentuated his fury simmering beneath the surface and you found yourself fisting the fabric of your white skirt that kissed the ground. 

“You defied me. You risked everything—your safety, your life—all because you refused to obey a simple command.”

You pressed yourself against the column, your heart pounding in your chest. The weight of his disappointment was crushing, and the fear that he might truly hate you for your disobedience was almost too much to bear. Your mind raced for an explanation, a way to make him understand, but words failed you under the intensity of his gaze.

Gwi halted just inches away from you, his towering figure casting a long shadow that enveloped you entirely. The air around you felt charged, thick with tension as if the very atmosphere was holding its breath.

“I-I was scared. I thought I could handle it, I thought-”

“You thought wrong.”

Tears filled your eyes at the harsh and deep voice in which he spoke to you. It made your heart clench in your chest with the knowledge that you had disappointed him. That you had angered him. 

“I’m sorry..”

You lowered your gaze, not being able to keep eye contact for much longer. He frowned down at you, taking a step closer that narrowed the space between you both even more that had you not been conflicted with your own emotions, your breath would have hitched in your throat at the proximity. Gwi's expression softened for a fleeting moment, the mask of anger slipping to reveal the turmoil within. But just as quickly, the hardness returned, and he took another step closer, his hand reaching out to grasp your chin firmly, forcing you to meet his gaze.

“Sorry?”

He laughed, a humourless laugh that made a shiver run down your spine. You looked into his eyes, even if you wanted to look away his grasp wouldn’t allow it as his fingers travelled from your chin to collar your neck instead, keeping you pressed against the wall behind your back.

“You think sorry is enough? That man you call your father has only ever used you for his own interests. I said I would protect you but you can’t just go wandering into the lion’s den and expect to walk out unharmed.”

His grip tightened slightly, and you could feel the tension radiating from him, the barely contained fury that threatened to boil over at any moment. But within that anger, you could also sense something deeper—a fear that ran so deep it twisted every thought, a fear of losing you.

“Forgive me, My Lord.”

“Silence.”

His command forced your lips shut. His voice was a mixture of something else. Something deeper. Darker. Something almost like a fierce desperation. 

“You don’t understand do you? You are the only thing in this cursed world that matters to me, and you throw yourself into danger as if your life means nothing.”

You swallowed, he felt the motion through his palm that still held your neck. The words hung in the air, leaving you waiting. Expecting for what he had to say when he had already bared his soul out to you. 

“I cannot lose you. Not to that man. Not to whatever fate we tangled ourselves in. I can’t.”

Gwi spoke through clenched teeth, his feelings a whirlwind of emotions within him that he couldn’t bring himself to part from you nor to step closer to the flame he so desperately wanted to burn in. 

There were many things left unsaid. Many emotions that you weren’t quick enough to grasp. But there was a certain warmth in his gaze that was there, for just a split second. A swirling of emotions, the battle between mind and heart. And you surrendered yourself against him. 

“Do you love me?”

The question left your lips in a soft whisper. And yet, it was loud enough to break the fog in his mind. His eyes softened, his lips parted as he stared down at you with so much sadness in his dark gaze that you couldn’t help the tear that rolled down your cheek. But his silence was like a dagger to your heart. 

“You have never said anything but your eyes tell a different story… Forgive me, I thought you loved me as well.”

You dropped your gaze, your hands released the tight fist you had on the white skirt of your dress as you felt the weight of his silence press down on you. You danced in the middle of his secrecy. Of his silent words that left his soul as his grip on your neck tightened ever so slight. 

“You speak as if you harbour such feelings for me.”

His voice was softer, more gentle. But it was that dark symphony of words that made your heart race and your mind spiral with emotions too complex to understand. 

“That’s because I do.”

You looked up once more, meeting his intense gaze that held a softness in such darkness you had never seen before. 

“You claimed me as your own; unknowingly you claimed my heart as well.”

Gwi shook his head, the words he was hearing were not meant to leave your lips. He wasn’t meant to feel his dead heart come back alive with such a declaration of devotions that went beyond your service to him. 

“You cannot love me.”

His words were laced with so much pain, whispered to the air as if he was confessing the biggest of sins. Silent tears rolled down your cheeks, your heart aching for the man that owned you in more ways than he should. 

“Why?”

A question so small yet filled with pain. You couldn’t stop looking up at him. Waiting for him to give you his heart as well. 

“Because you will end up hurt, petal. And the single thought of you being hurt pains me to no end.”

“Then don’t. Don’t hurt me. Do not break my heart.”

He knew the risks. He knew that loving you openly would endanger your life more than it already was with the mere knowledge of you living under his roof. But he couldn’t deny it anymore. He couldn’t resist the pull; not from hunger, not from obsession. The pull of his heart to yours. 

“Please.”

You barely uttered your plea before his lips smashed with yours. The intensity of it took your breath away, his lips moving against yours with a desperate urgency. His hand slid to the back of your neck, holding you in place as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing against yours as you stood on your tiptoes and kissed him back. 

You responded in kind, your hands clutching at his robes as you kissed him with equal fervour. The world around you seemed to disappear, leaving only the two of you locked in this moment of raw, unbridled passion.

Gwi's hand tightened on your neck, not in a painful way but with a possessive intensity that made your pulse quicken. His other hand slid down to your waist, pulling you even closer as if trying to meld your bodies together. The taste of him was addictive and you craved more, more, more. You whimpered softly as he broke the kiss, your lips were left tingling with the sensation of your passion. His eyes opened to gaze into your own as you both panted softly into each other’s mouths. 

“Love me. Love with me.”

You craned up your head, wanting nothing more than for him to take you. To mark you. To love you in such an intimate way. 

“I love for you, my petal.”

You moaned as he kissed you again, your hands cradling his face as he pressed you to him in suppressed emotions that spilled like a tidal wave. 

Gwi's lips moved down to your jaw, trailing kisses along the sensitive skin of your neck. His breath was hot against your skin, sending shivers down your spine as his hand slid from your waist to your lower back, pulling you even closer. The sheer need in his touch made your heart race, each kiss igniting a fire within you that burned brighter with every second.

A flame of love.

August/12/2024

A/N: Want to be tagged? Let me know in the comments!

Thoughts? O.O

My inbox is open, darlings! Or feel free to leave a comment! I'd love to hear your thoughts and inputs for the story! Take care, everyone 🫶

~ Masterpost

[winterfireblond]

¹WHAT IF? You and Alcina was already in a strong and long relationship even before the cadou implant, you just have to stay outside the village until Alcina got control of her new identity as the Countess and the first lord and with her new part from the gift (control of blood thirst, mutation and all) and continued your connection through exchange of letters with the help of Mother Miranda (yes she allowed it bcoz you're special 🤭) and the duke. Then you're ready to come and meet your lover again after sometime being in a long distance relationship and will be staying with her for good now. Years past, you both live in synchronously, peace, and full of love with some minor disturbance and incidents until on your 10th year (or more) together, some symptoms presents itself before you. Imbalance, fatigue, fainting spells and such made it's appearance to you. You have no word for it and you want to keep it from Alcina to prevent her from fussing over things, you think it's just because of lack of proper rest but deep down you knew something is wrong with your body, you already told mother Miranda about it but she got no knowledge about what you're feeling also. Days turns to month, you slowly keep you distance to your love because you later realize the inevitable will surely cause her a lot of distress and may hinder her from her mission to help Miranda (yes you knew a lot 'bout the shits between the two but you didn't interfere as long as your love is safe, healthy and living the best way possible).

You thought You're making a good job at pushing her away, but one day your symptoms got the best of you (or worst?) You fainted in the library, no one's around. And the lady is with Miranda for some experiments, and it is already a knowledge that you are not to disturb when you're reading (though you are kind, okay, somewhat a little patient than your love😆) In there, you can stay a whole day even until late at night, just maids will deliver your food, tea or snacks. But that day you mentioned that you're not in the mood for anything and will just call someone if ever you need something and so you are at your own. You fainted and no one knows, you are too good at hiding your weakening form even from your lover. You fall to the cold floor, you didn't even think about lighting the fireplace before stacking books you'll read to a nearby table you are surrounded by fallen books and you stayed that way until late into the night.

Your lover found you, out cold on the floor unresponsive to her light shaking of your form, heartbeat slow, breathing very shallow... (You can continue with the rest)

Angst or happy ending? Depends on you. This is just some ideas I got stock in my mind for some time now. Feel free to use it to your story just pls tag me if ever❤️🖤

[pheita]

OC Smash or Pass

I was tagged by @eternalwritingstudent ( I don't start to count how many times you tagged me during these last 2 weeks lol )

Thanks for my Sims obsession I have a nice pic of Arritit.

Age: 389 years (equalls roughly end 20's in human years)

Gender: female

Height:5'6"

Race: Ma'Bashan aka lust demon

Sexuality: pansexual with strong preferences for women

Info: As the youngest of five children to Akamratit and Ranhirin you would think she is a spoiled brat but the contrary is the truth. Tormented by the twin sisters directly above her in age since the earliers childhood years, life was always tough and got tougher when she understood her father's views about the past and the demon's position in the cosmos of the dimensions made the family outsiders of the community.

It was so strong the polyamorous nature of their kind went inexperienced since her parents had no other partners with no one wanting to deal with Akamratit, also ending in the children having rarely any friends and only the siblings relying on each other.

She became the family mage of her generation within the family, since she has the strongest magic. Technically, Sojan could have become it if he had been able to grab the basics of higher magic, so it fell into her hands.

Because of all this, she doesn't only has shaman knowledge but also studied math, basic architecture, botanics and many more if she didn't use her lil sis status to make Sojan cook for her.

Reasons to Smash

Arritit, or Ari in short, is caring in her ways which can be sometimes accompanied by swearing and name-calling, and loyal till the end as long as you don't betray her. Her hedonistic tendencies are always good for a surprises, and life surely will never be boring. Life is an adventure for her, and knowing her power made her sure enough to handle everything. Her thirst for knowledge can only be matched by her love to play stupid people and to burn down nasty monsters. Or her hunger for chocolate.

Reasons to Pass

Her self-esteem sometimes boarders on megalomania, and you only risk getting into a fight with her when you are sure there is nothing inflammable around. After Akamratit killed her fiancée decades ago, Ari's hedonism sometimes has self-destructive moments, and she is still damaged from her fiancée's death and never really got over it.

I tag @writernopal @writerfae @tabswrites @writingamongther0ses @incandescent-creativity

@indecentpause @ashen-crest @dreaminggoblin-yells

[myreia]

wip whenever

tagged by @galadae and @coldshrugs, thank you! 💖

tagging @bearlytolerant, @thevikingwoman, @impossible-rat-babies, @hylfystt, @allaganexarch, @birues & @roguelioness.

I'm lost in an Echo scene from Chapter 5, Aureia's family sucks. ✌️Stormblood spoilers-ish.

Laughter hums on Elgara’s lips and she returns to her paperwork with smooth, controlled movements. Kallias has always been easy to rile up. It is his greatest weakness—and it is easy to exploit.

“That possessive streak will be the end of you,” she says, tutting lightly. “Go about it then, if you’re so inclined. You don’t need my permission. I’m sure the legatuses would be overjoyed to hear of the death of the Warrior of Light. Perhaps if you offer them proof, they would even reward you.”

He snarls under his breath and bites his tongue, his riposte contained.

“Or does the thought give you pause? Do you fear, perhaps, that you aren’t strong enough? Is that why you’ve come here, crawling back to your mother, riddled with doubt and uncertainty?”

“I don’t doubt, I—”

Elgara sets her pen aside and rises from her chair, unfurling to her full height. She towers above her son, casting a long shadow across the observation deck’s floor. “Kira has something you don’t,” she says. “She has had it her whole life, it is what made her unique. Special. An asset. Your father and I sought to tap it, but we did not have the knowledge or the foresight to understand what we were dealing with. But Aulus mal Asina did. He was a visionary. And someone must continue his work.”

Red. Blue. Red. Blue.

The lights cycle, flashing over Elgara and Kallias, casting them into darkness. The solider inhales once more, her breath as sharp as ice. She presses herself against the door, gazing inwards, her form unnoticed in the shadows. A shiver ran down her spine at the mention of Aulus’ name. She recalls him, of course she does. She remembers his youth when she met him near two decades ago, bright-eyed and intense, speaking theories dismissed by his superiors as fanciful dreams at best and psychosis at worst. It was he who first spoke of Echoes and Resonants, of gifting the Garlean people the ability to control aether.

She recalls what he did to Krile. What he did to Fordola… and Zenos, too.  

How his life ended, screeching about data and souls with his dying breath on the floor of the Ala Mhigan palace. Forgotten and abandoned by the prince he had devoted himself to.

His research, as he called it, should have ended there.

Inside the observation room, Elgara approaches her son step by dreaded step. She may be no soldier, and yet she engulfs him. Outmatches him. Outwits him. Kallias is no small man, and yet compared to her imposing height he is so small. So insignificant.

���Don’t you see, Kal?” she says, her voice low and strangely soothing in its intensity. The voice of someone who can lull others into implicit trust by the sheer power of command and self-assurance. “Kira is a liability, but liabilities can be exploited. Her usefulness to Garlemald has not ended. You wish to kill her; I will not doubt your thirst for vengeance, it is more than understandable. But think on it. Kill her and we lose her forever.”

He grunts, the panicked sound strangled in his throat. “Have you forgotten what she’s done, mother? What she—”

“Shh.” She arrives before him and places a hand to his chin. It’s a gentle gesture; on anyone else it would be caring. But on her it is empty, a gesture of inspection and observation. “Capture her and our opportunities are thrown wide. We can reclaim what we have lost, you and I. Theorzen will be a name to be respected; no longer will it be spat upon like the rest.”

He closes his eyes, his expression still.

“You deserve more than the lot you have been given, Kallias. And she can gift you the strength you deserve to carry. The skills and talents that should have gone to you. A transference. A replication. A Resonant of your very own, one derived from the Warrior of Light. With it, you can have your vengeance. With it, you can outmatch even Zenos himself.”

His eyelids flutter and he grimaces, lip curling back. Then he crumples into her and clings, shoulders shuddering with the aftershock of silent tears. In this moment, there is no sign of the operative and the spy. In this moment, he is a child coming home.

It makes the soldier’s blood boil. Lost in her anger, she slips and cracks her forehead against the door, helmet banging against the glass. Her vision blurs red and her knees give out from under her. When she finally clears her vision, she finds herself huddles on the stairwell floor, looking in as Elgara enfolds her son into her embrace.

A spike of jealousy flares in the pit of her stomach. Unwanted. Unneeded. Unexplained.  

She curses her inability to do anything but observe.

Elgara cradles him, a hand resting against the back of his head, stroking his matted hair. “Bring your sister to me, Kal,” she croons. “Bring her to me and I can make it happen. I wish for it to happen. It should have been you all along.”

Kallias stills. His expression hardens, his lips pressed firm together. Slowly, one by one his fingers lift as he loosens his grip. The danger and the malice return, blazing bright in his red eyes. “No,” he breathes.

[streets-in-paradise]

Reality Check - BarclayPierce ( Andy x Nica)

Warnings: Inspired on this post and the lovely contributions from the community it received.

Summary: After trying and failing to help for so long, Andy knows his words are bassically worthless in the trial. Still, there is something else he can do in order to help Nica in her well deserved revenge against Tiffany.

Showing his love for her so her abuser could get the chance of watching his feelings being required freely and consensually.

Notes: I'm not familiar with the usamerican law, so this may not be very believable. However, in a show where a possessed doll can see a doctor i guess i'm free to take some liberties.

Tags: @barclaysangel @series-thoughts @rogertaylorismyking

Even if his words meant nothing in a world that would never stop taking him as crazy, Andy promised to Nica that he was going to be there for her and he wasn't backing off from his promises. Only being pulled out by the guards could have stopped him from pridefully supporting her in the most important moment of her life after being free from possession and the old murder charges against her.

The day she would bring Tiffany's doom without having to spill a single drop of blood, letting the court serve the justice that she deserved. He knew she would have been happier doing it by herself, given that he was the onlyone who fully understood her thirst for fucked up vengeance. Things took a different turn far away from his area of expertise. They wouldn't be able to torture Tiffany together like they once hoped, but he was going to watch Nica testify against her maniacal kidnapper with the same satisfaction he would have had seeing her pick his trustable flamethrower.

The courthouse had mixed reactions to their arrival. Rachel and the kids seemed happy to find out Nica wouldn't have to go through the process alone, but the surprise inclussion shocked some others.

Her abuser didn't see it coming, she had a hard time trying to understand what was he doing there and precisely alongside the witness she cared to most about. The onlyone she wanted to see, who she expected to find without any company. Her troubled confussion was such that her eyes had followed untill he took seat as if she would be trying to figure him out.

The story he had to tell was as insane as hers and if he wasn't there to speak … What else would be left to think in the obsessive mind of Tiffany Valentine? The sweet smile he gave to Nica as she was heading to make her statements was suspicious enough to awake an irrational rage. Lack of context didn't allow her to understand the accurate emotional meaning for that sense of complicity between them, but one thing was clear to her.

He seemed so in love and she loathed it.

Concerned only in being Nica's emotional support, Andy ignored the effect his presence had on her agressor's obsession. He was aware of being the luckiest in the arch nemesis lottery, but never had much chance of witnessing Tiffany's level of delusion by himself. Most of his knowledge about that came from comments of her three main victims.

A chance presented itself and it made him feel sick.

The defense lawyer got her work completely screwed by her client just as she was cornering Nica regarding the motives for the confession that exonerated her.

" Because I love you!" Tiffany had cheerfully screamed to the woman testifying against her for the whole courtroom to hear, pretty much as if she expected thankfullness for it.

The delusion was strong, way beyond his understanding. Andy was shocked and pissed off in equal amounts. After kidnapping her, sexually assaulting her and dismembering her so she could keep her controlled one year more, the bitch would still call that love hoping Nica would love her back.

It was all she cared about, perfectly willing to fuck up her case just to keep insisting as if her victim could ever feel anything but hate for her. Nica wasn't even shying away from showing reasonable disgust and hatred, but Tiffany won't care for real about what she had to say unless it would serve to feed her fantasy.

That bitch needed a reality check, a wake up call she wouldn't easily ignore. Maybe then she would feel trully broken and finally hit rock bottom.

If she only knew of their flourishing feelings, of their late night talks and morning kisses … of how Nica had willingly choosen him. Him, of all people, a man frequently underestimated in his romantic potential even by Chucky himself. The good enough for no one, the loner whose call in life was chazing that doll till the end of days. Him, and not her, the fake movie star with a fabulous lifestyle and glamorous looks whose only desire in life was having her.

There was still a key role for him to play in the vengeance, he could help the cause with something better than torture weaponry or a bomb testimony. His genuine love for Nica, what could make him hold enough power to ruin Tiffany's day just by being himself. Measuring his demeanour to avoid a scandall required of subtle gestures if he didn't want to get kicked out of the courtroom, but he wanted to show he was trully proud of Nica's strenght to endure the questioning of the lawyer and facing the abuser that still had a false sense of ownership over her.

As soon as they were done with her, he focused in lovefully reflecting that strenght through some comfort.

" You did it amazing! Nica, i'm so fucking impressed. " He whispered at her. " I wished I could stand up and clap."

Still going through the conflictive emotions of the trial, she gave him a half smile.

" Let's hope you are not the onlyone. "

Andy caressed her cheek and Nica followed the movement of his hand with her head, showing clear enjoyment of his touch. A simple, sweet moment before focusing back on the trial, but enough to make Tiffany's blood boil.

From there she could only obssess wondering if her intuitive fears were truth, if all her hard work to keep her only resulted in having to watch her land on Andy's arms. The mere idea sent her over the edge of a mental breakdown, she had to be stopped by the judge from keep screaming at him over and over to take his hands off Nica.

" What are you going to do about it? Chop off my arms? " He fearlessly taunted her, purposedly using the dark style of Chucky that he knew so well. " I would like to see you try. "

A call for order stopped Nica from contributing to his mockery, having arrived late to the same conclussion. Tiffany could keep ignoring her open declarations of hate, but the image of her answering positively to someone else's caresses was going to haunt her more than the fear of going to prison.

Her man have learned a few of her lessons in psycological torture and Nica couldn't be prouder.

The best was saved for last, on the moment of the verdict. The worst day on that bitch's life that they were going to ruin even more. Driven by the impure joy found in the sentence to death, Andy pulled Nica in for a passionate, almost delirous kiss that he iniciated without caring for the context. As Tiffany was storming out bitching at her lawyer she stumbled with the scene and the disgusted shock overcame everything else.

For an instant, she even forgot of the lethal punishment awaiting her.

At that precise instant, Andy raised one hand to flip off while the other was still grabbing Nica, who smirked devilishly against his lips.

An hysterical cackle from a very surprised Rachel Fairchild crowned the insanity of the moment. If it wasn't for the police custody, the humilliation would have pushed Tiffany to jump over Andy seeking to strangle him the way she considered Chucky should have done many years before.

" I DID NOTHING TO YOU!!" She yelled instead, recriminating him as if her breakup with Chucky would be enough to automatically exonerate her from any guilts he could personally attribute her and must had released her from his his radar. " WHY ARE YOU DOING THIS TO ME? ME!!! I KEPT HIM AWAY FROM YOU FOR OVER A DECADE, YOU DISGRACED LITTLE SHIT … AND THIS IS HOW YOU PAY ME?? TAKING NICA FROM ME?? WHY?"

Andy did the effort of looking unamused by her madness.

" Because I love her. " Was his simple reply, an ironical comeback twisting the same words he heard her say back when she interrupted the testimony. " … And i'm pretty sure she loves me back. "

They could tell by her far gone expression that she was trying to convince herself it was all lies.

" Of course i love you!" Nica followed, admitting a truth he knew while feeling ecstatic of killing her hope. " i'm crazy for him, thanks for setting us up!! Turns out I went from being the prisoner love doll of your sick dollhouse to have my own teddy bear. Wild, isn't it? Andy gives the best hugs, and i didn't even need to explain him about boundaries. He gets the consent part, so I indulge him. "

" See the bright side, Tiffany! At least you are gonna go knowing Nica is in better hands" Andy mocked her with ironical positivity. "… My hands, if the walls of my place could speak of the things we do whenever your children aren't there. They are staying with us, you know? Ohh right! Probably you don't know because they haven't visited you."

He smiled pridefully, then went to congrat Rachel and the kids, giving Nica her space to finish off her enemy. The things he overheard her say were so incredibly vile and deliciously hatefull that being impressed was not enough to describe how that made him feel.

Enamored, charmed, completely turned on, could be more accurate. ' … I'm going to roll this chair all over your fucking grave' was the last thing he got to listen, wishing he could have added that he would probably be standing in one knee proposing within the same action.

Tiffany was the one soon to be on death row, but Nica was going to be the death of him.

[dr-lizortecho]

Hi! Can you talk about why you ship Bonenzo? I love them so much and not just because they weren't a couple long enough for the writers to destroy them :) There's this cerebral component to their relationship that makes them unique among TVD ships for me---they're both extremely smart, like to learn new things, make references to ancient myths and history etc. that just sort of sets them apart from the other TVD ships - they're secretly nerdy lol, and I adore that. I also love how they're both guarded and somewhat jaded yet love SO passionately and fiercely. On another note...I also saw an ask about how Bonnie is different from Elena, and imo Bonnie is more comfortable as a learner/observer/thinker (I see her as becoming a professor/researcher!) while Elena is an instinctive feeler (and obviously smart too, but I'm saying she leads with her heart!) And so Bonnie is more guarded while Elena is more open and trusting/forgiving but also more impulsive and prone to doing something unexpected and then wishing she hadn't. This makes Bonnie...steadier, sort of? More loyal and consistent and fair. But she's also less trusting, less forgiving, less open etc. So I think they're both a great mix of strengths and flaws and not the same ones! One last thought - Elena is more used to being the center of attention, and I don't mean that to say she's as selfish as antis say she is---I just mean that she's just always been adored, a natural leader who ends up at the center of things, etc. Elena was the star and therefore Bonnie fell naturally into the supporting role, thinking more about helping Elena and others than herself. And to circle back to the beginning of this long ask, one reason I love Bonenzo is that he's the first person to be like 'but YOU'RE powerful and strong and can travel and shine and you're the center of my world and now it's time to play the lead role in your own show!" you know?! I totally understand why people ship Bamon, but he made it clear that Elena comes first to him---BONNIE is the first and generally only priority for Enzo during the admittedly short time we see them as a couple, and she deserves that! Meanwhile, he's been betrayed, abandoned etc so Bonnie's loyalty, consistency, and love are exactly what HE needs too :) All just my random thoughts and obviously I'd love to hear yours!

Hi! Can you talk about why you ship Bonenzo?

You hit it pretty much on the nose! They’re such a good match because they offer each other the things they both want/crave, and they balance each other and make each other better. Like all my favorite tvd pairings they push each other to grow and become more balanced and more mature through learning from each other and giving/getting love.

Not only that but they make each other bend their rigidities and become more open and welcoming and loving. Truly they show what live/support can offer someone who’s been traumatized and repeatedly hurt by the world around them (and the people in their lives).

I love them so much and not just because they weren't a couple long enough for the writers to destroy them :)

Yes! I see a lot of people who enjoy them tag in this little notion, as if the drama in a teen drama somehow breaks the dynamics that are well written. Because the writing might have went absolutely horrendous post s6- but Bonenzo was the gem amongst the ashes.

There's this cerebral component to their relationship that makes them unique among TVD ships for me---they're both extremely smart, like to learn new things, make references to ancient myths and history etc.

This! They’re both so smart and so inclined to furthering their minds and educations. We see Bonnie’s inclination towards learning from the start and watch it shift from just magic to an interest/excitement about the world at large. This is a big component in her relationship with Professor Shane and Silas- they draw in her thirst for knowledge and even on her desire for an intellectually challenged relationship. While Enzo is depicted as someone whose always used learning to further himself in the world (however little access he had growing up) and he searches for this in older women or more educated women, because he wants a relationship that includes learning and stretching and growing- while offering him security (all jokes aside about milf’s).

So they find not only similar passions and desires in each other- but a stability in their moving forward together. Which makes them both feel safe to fully explore and start to desire these things. Which is what sees Bonnie’s desires to travel solidify into more concrete plans, fully moving her from the ghost who pretended to travel the world to the woman fully alive and happy who is going to see the world.

BONNIE is the first and generally only priority for Enzo during the admittedly short time we see them as a couple, and she deserves that!

Exactly!!! Like one of the biggest reasons they work so well is for this reason. Because this is the type of live Enzo has been trying to give his whole life and the kind of love Bonnie has been seeking.

Meanwhile, he's been betrayed, abandoned etc so Bonnie's loyalty, consistency, and love are exactly what HE needs too

*nods along* yeah, exactly. They really just feel like they were written for each other. But not in the way that means they both aren’t fully fleshed out characters, because it took their coming together to make it fully obvious how much they made each other feel more balanced.

[i-did-not-mean-to]

Can someone please stop me?

So, today, I hurt myself by going back to the first chapters of the Silm...

Special thanks to a person I don't know the handle of yet and that I shall add later :D thanks for enabling me and talking to me about Things (and for your lovely art)

ah @the-red-butterfly (there's the handle of another great artist...yup, I collect them)

Words: 500

Warnings: slight sadness

How it feels to reread the first chapters of the Silmarillion 

Darkness falls like a veil; a messenger arrives in haste.

And so, it starts…

I stand motionless and paralysed – overlooking the dark sea that shall be nourished by my tears – for speechless, voiceless, wordless, I mourn the loss that kicked off an avalanche of sharp stones within my breast that shan’t ever stop tumbling noiselessly into the endless obscurity, ne’er redeemed by the light that shall be.

Finwë is dead, and memories assail me like blades – newly forged and sharp as ice – as I reminisce about our long travels in darkness and fear.

Finwë and his wives, Finwë and his children – beautiful, strong, talented – and their strife amongst each other; then later, Fëanor holding Maedhros aloft, his face aglow with pride, and young Fingolfin cradling Fingon as if he was made of something holier than could be found in all of Valinor.

My bare feet cramp against the smooth stone, digging into it as if to take root; I stand still, looking into a future barred to me.

The blessed realm shall be blessed no more as those children I have seen thrive like weeds – their joy and their unquenchable thirst for knowledge and skill – leave it to grow into rulers, parents, warriors, and outcasts in another land where their strengths and flaws shall expand endlessly until they throttle them, enmeshed in their most earnest endeavours.

Like the rivers of that broken realm, they shall flow apart, never to behold the face of their own brothers again for parting or conciliatory words; they shall learn the bite of the double-edged sword that lies in a promise and the weight of love unending as it grows into shackles bound tightly around their souls. 

Nonetheless, the sacrifice of their innocence shall bring forth deeds of renown and glory beyond what peace could ever engender.

Forever now, they shall be sundered from me and from that deep affection of mine that is exempt of blemishes but also devoid of the depths of their suffering that shall mould and sculpt them into the greatest and most terrifying of our kind.

And despite knowing this, all I can do is stare out to the sea; helplessly witnessing them raising cities and watching them fall to ruin, seeing them love and lose, fight and falter, trespass and repent.

Their blood – my blood – shall water the hungry soil of a world still in becoming, and I’ll cry – hoping that my tears might find their way into the lakes that shall bring them healing – for the wounds I cannot tend from across the water.

I stand and I shall stand until they’ve returned – one by one, bruised and battered – to the kin they’ve left behind.

“Eternity is a long time when you’re waiting,” a voice resounds behind me, but I don’t turn around, unable to avert my eyes from what must come to pass.

Finwë is dead; it has begun; and my long and lonely watch has started.

Let me tag my two book friends @lathalea and @legolasbadasss

And @eunoiaastralwings and @medusas-hairband who have expressed excitement about my reading the book...as you can see, it makes me very sad :(

[ot7always]

Kneel.

Word Count: 3.5k

Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

Genre: Established Relationship AU, smut (pwp)

Warnings: dom!Yoongi, sub!Reader, daddy kink, bondage, blindfolding, thigh-riding, gagging, hair-pulling, choking, degradation, praise, fingering, unprotected sex, rough sex, spanking, pussy-slapping, crying, orgasm control/denial, overstimulation, forced orgasms, creampie, aftercare, probably too many pet names

Rating: 18+

Summary: You should have known better. It wasn’t your place to keep disobeying him, but you just kept insisting, didn’t you?  

A/N: I literally wrote this entire thing yesterday fuelled only by thirst and the need to prove to myself and my wife @wwilloww that I can in fact write an entire pwp in one night. I hope it incites the same feelings in you as it did to me when I was writing it fhlkdfghd

Also this is entirely a certain someone’s fault that this exists, you know who you are. 

Tagging: @moonmintrails @dee-ehn @ezralia-writes @thatlongspringnight​

Masterlist

--

“You look so pretty like this, daddy.”

The sight before you was enough to take anyone’s breath away. It was common knowledge that Min Yoongi was an attractive man, but you never expected for him become even more stunning. You never expected to see him like this – bound, blindfolded, all for you.

“Anything, daddy?” you stared wide-eyed up into his face. Yes, he told you he would give you a special reward after hearing of your promotion. But this?

“Anything, princess.”

And so here you were, naked and straddling Yoongi’s clothed thigh, your sopping folds soiling the fabric. He was biting his lip so hard you were afraid he would draw blood, his head tossed back, bound hands behind the chair straining against the ropes. You made sure to avoid contact with the noticeable bulge in his pants as you grinded on him.

“Princess,” he panted, “I don’t even have to touch you and you’re already soaking through my pants?”

You moaned, tucking your face into the smooth skin of his neck and biting down softly. “Yes, daddy.” You muffled a whimper as he flexed the muscle of his thigh, the friction against your clit having you plaster yourself against him so you wouldn’t fall.

“You ask to tie me up and yet here you are, falling apart for me just like usual, huh?” he taunted, bouncing his leg enough that you whined. “Looks like a whore will always be a whore no matter what.”

“Daddy, I’m gonna cum,” you whimpered, speeding up the grinding of your hips on him, squeaking when he sped up his own motions in turn.

“No you’re not.”

“Please-”

“No. Slow down,” he ordered, going entirely still. When you only continued your actions, he growled.

“You think you’re safe just because you tied me up, hm? I would think twice if I were you,” he warned.

It was as if you didn’t hear him. You were chasing your own end, and he had no way to stop you. You let out a high-pitched whine right into his ears, the pleasure inside you rising and rising with each passing second.

You wouldn’t normally disobey him. The shiver that would pass through you at every utterance of “good girl” had you eating out of the palm of his hand. But all he had to stop you was his words, and the temptation to take what normally had to be given to you was too strong.

“Last chance, princess. I won’t let you off the hook so easily.”

You should have listened to him. You knew that. He agreed to this situation, but he didn’t agree to your disobedience. But his hands were bound, and you were certain you could make it up to him later.

Well – his hands were bound.

You squeaked in surprise when he stood up suddenly, his hands – his rope-free hands - gripping your wrists tightly.

“Kneel,” he snarled, baring his teeth as he pushed you away from him. You looked up at him in shock, your heart racing in your chest. Your knees dropped to the bedroom floor immediately, your eyes wide in anticipation. How did he get out?

He ripped the blindfold from his face, his hair wild, eyes frenzied as he locked them onto yours. When you saw the look he gave you – eyes narrowed, head tilted, slight smirk on his lips – you knew you were doomed.

“Don’t you dare look at me right now,” he barked, chuckling when your eyes immediately darted to his feet instead.

Maybe you could make this easier on yourself if you apologized. “Daddy, I-”

You were abruptly cut off when fabric was stuffed into your mouth, gagging slightly at the sudden intrusion. The blindfold.

“Daddy doesn’t want to hear you right now. He just wanted to make you feel good, but you just couldn’t listen, could you?”

At the lack of response, his ring-adorned hand darted out to squeeze lightly at your throat. Just a warning, for now. “Answer me.”

It was of course impossible to answer him properly with your mouth stuffed, but you knew he wanted to hear you anyway. The muffled “sorry, daddy” you hummed around the gag was unintelligible, but seemed to appease him as he removed himself from you.

You kept your gaze trained on the floor in front of you as he moved away from you, footsteps sounding from around the room before stopping behind you.

Your hands were wrenched behind your back, the same braided silk rope you used on him coming to tie your wrists together.

“You can’t tie ropes, you can’t follow instructions, so what can you do, princess?” he jeered, testing his knot. “Wiggle your fingers.”

After doing what he said, he pushed you forward until your face was pressed into the floor, your back arched as your drenched pussy was presented just for him.

You moaned and bucked your hips at the sensation of 3 fingers entering you fully without preparation, the cold metal of his rings inside you sending a delicious spike of pleasure up your spine.

“Even if you can’t do anything right, at least this warm, wet cunt will always be here waiting for me, right?”

You moaned your affirmation at his filthy words, your back arching even more to offer yourself to him fully.

“Look at you, you’re just asking to be fucked like the little whore you are.” He pulled his fingers out of you, messily wiping off your arousal onto the small of your back. You shivered at the sound of his pants unzipping, hearing the sound of his clothes hitting the floor somewhere on the other side of the room.

When he was fully undressed, he chuckled at the sight of you. Face pressed into the floor, back arched, ass up, legs spread – a meal just for him to devour.

He spanked you hard, grinning at the loud whine you gave in response. “You’re just gonna lay there and you’re gonna let daddy fuck you like the little slut you are. This hole is mine to fuck,” he growled, punctuating his statement with a hard spank to your pussy. “And daddy isn’t gonna stop unless you wiggle your fingers like before, do you understand?

You nodded furiously, a moan wrenched from you as his cock rougly rubbed through your wet folds. The breath was knocked out of you when he shoved himself into you harshly without further preparation, your walls immediately clenching tight around him.

He gave you no time to adjust, a brutal and rapid pace being set right away, your whines instant. The sudden stretch burned, but it burned so fucking good. He was merciless in his thrusting, the thought of Yoongi just using you to chase his own pleasure making your mind go blank.

Not long after, the slight pain and discomfort turned to mind-boggling pleasure, the flames of heat spreading throughout your entire body. He noticed the change immediately, your moans becoming more and more frequent, your muscles relaxing, your cunt clenching rhythmically around him.

“Yeah, you get off on being fucked like a filthy little whore, don’t you? You try to act so cute and innocent but your body tells me what a fucking slut you really are.”

You couldn’t help how quickly you became close to coming. You had already been just on the precipice earlier, and his rough treatment and vulgar words had you approaching again within minutes. Your walls spasmed wildly around him as you tipped closer and closer to the edge.

“I don’t think so,” he hummed, continuing his rough, deep thrusts. “Bad girls don’t get to cum.”

You made a loud noise of protest, his hips snapping against you, sending tears to your eyes as you tried to hold back your release.

“Cum and I stop,” he stated firmly, though he didn’t pause his own motions whatsoever. Almost as if he wanted you to fail.

You let out a sob at his mercilessness, every muscle tensing as you tried to keep yourself from getting lost to the pleasure. But when he changed the angle to brush against that spot inside you with every thrust, you couldn’t do it.

You bit down on the blindfold, crying out when the pleasure washed over you in waves, but your ecstasy was cut short when Yoongi pulled out from you right away. You groaned weakly at the loss of sensation, tears of dissatisfaction escaping as your body went limp.

You barely got a moment to breathe before a hand reached into your hair, harshly tugging your head up to look at him. You blinked rapidly, struggling to focus your gaze on him past the tears in your eyes.

His heart skipped a beat at the helpless, pleading expression decorating your tear-stained face, prepared to take whatever punishment he decided to give you. “Aw, princess,” he cooed, condescension lacing his tone. “Daddy makes you feel too good, huh?”

He smirked at the sight of you struggling to nod in his hold, your eyes hazy and distant. “But you know daddy has to punish you, right?” He felt a twinge of pride in his chest as you nodded again, eyes shuttering closed as you prepared yourself for what was to come.

He released his hold as he moved away from you, yanking your head back up and shoving a pillow beneath it when he returned. You hummed your thanks, trying your best to relax.

Despite the knowledge of what was to come, you jumped when the first blow landed to your ass, the pain harsher from his rings hitting you.

“Take 9 more like a good girl and I’ll give you exactly what you want, okay, princess?”

You let out a muffled “mhm,” broken off into a squeak when he quickly delivered another blow, the radiating warmth washing over you. A groan was forced out of you as he smacked the top of your left thigh, the pain there sharper, the sting more evident.

As much as the spanking hurt, there was just something about handing your body over for Yoongi to do as he wanted that made you feel safe. He wouldn’t ever do something you hadn’t already agreed on before, and he knew exactly where to draw the line.

Several blows rained down on you in quick succession, arousal rushing through you and sending new wetness to your cunt at. Your ass felt like it was on fire, every hit sending you further and further into your mind. It was as though nothing existed but you, Yoongi, and the pleasure-laced pain flooding your nervous system every time he brought his hand down. You whimpered with each strike, the sting only building and building.

You didn’t realize you were crying again until a hand stroked through your hair, the other hand wiping the wetness from your face.

“You took it so well, princess,” he said softly, brushing your hair back from your face. “Are you ready for more?”

You nodded without hesitation, the need to have him back inside you too strong.

“Good,” he grinned, pulling the blindfold out of your mouth and tossing it to the side. “Because I want to hear every little noise that comes from your mouth when I fuck this cunt senseless. I’ll make sure you won’t have enough brain cells to say a single word by the time I’m done with you.”

You didn’t have time to process his words before he shoved himself inside again, made easy by the amount of wetness that came from your spanking. You choked out a loud moan at the feeling of being so full, his cock dragging against your walls.

He groaned lowly at the feeling of your pussy gripping him tightly, clenching uncontrollably as he resumed the quick pace from earlier. “Your cunt just can’t ever get enough, can it? Daddy punishes you and all it can think about is getting cock.”

He snapped his hips into you harshly, hand winding into your hair to pull your face out of the pillow. The action sent a tingle down your spine, eyes fluttering shut.

“You should see yourself right now. For all your innocence, you’re just daddy’s cockslut at the end of the day, aren’t you?”

“Yes, daddy.”

The hand in your hair moved down your body to rub savagely at your clit, the sudden pleasure making you mewl. The bud was still sensitive from your previous orgasm, the pleasure sending a rush of pain through you as well.

“Daddy, too much,” you whined, wiggling your hips as though you could get away from him.

“Oh?” he replied, only increasing the speed of his hand and the force of his thrusts. “You wanted to cum so badly before, didn’t you? Take it,” he snarled, angling his hips to hit you deeper, the onslaught of so much sensation setting your mind abuzz.

You could only lay open-mouthed, noises escaping you uncontrollably as the pleasure and pain took over your body, breaths quickening. Your second orgasm reared on you almost embarrassingly fast, high-pitched cries leaving you as your pussy clamped down on Yoongi’s cock. He hissed at the tightness, but kept up his pace, fucking you through the pleasure that blanked your mind, your eyes open but unseeing.

Even as you came down from your high, Yoongi’s motions didn’t cease, the pleasure ebbing through your veins very quickly turning to pain. The pressure against your clit sent you reeling, your knees nearly giving out beneath you. If not for the hand that reached out to steady you, you were certain you would have fallen.

The combination of Yoongi’s cock dragging against your oversensitive walls and his hand still working away at your clit was like torture, pain overwhelming your senses.

“Daddy, it hurts,” you sobbed, raising your head to look back at him.

His hand roughly shoved your head back into the pillow, laughing at your incoherent whines.

“You know how to make it stop if you feel like you can’t handle it. I already told you, you’re gonna take this cock, and you’re gonna be fucking thanking me by the time I’m done with you.”

You felt hot and feverish, the feeling of the pillow against your cheek grounding you in the moment. It felt almost as if you were floating as he continued his ministrations, groaning as he paused momentarily to grind his cock deeply inside you. The torment lit your body aflame, pricks of pleasure hidden beneath its heat.

After what felt like an eternity, the pleasure seemingly fought off the pain, your moans growing louder and louder, walls clenching down hard.

“That’s it, princess,” he breathed, taking in the way you started moving your hips back to meet his thrusts. He growled at the fluttering of your walls around him. “Look at you, taking daddy’s cock so well.”

The praise sent a sense of euphoria washing over you, the knowledge that he was happy with you creating a blooming happiness within your chest. The all-consuming pleasure was building in you again, sparks prickling behind your eyelids. You hadn’t even realized you’d closed them.

“Daddy,” you cried, moving your bound hands to try to reach for him, needing anything to hold, anything to keep you in this moment.

“I’m here, princess,” he assured, lacing his fingers with your own. You squeezed him tightly as your orgasm came over you. If your last one was like the tide, this one hit you like a fucking tsunami. Your mouth was open, no sound coming out as you were battered by pleasure, the feeling dizzying. It felt almost as if your body didn’t belong to you anymore, your hand going limp within his, muscles failing you. Finally unable to hold up your own body, your knees gave out, Yoongi’s hands reaching to catch you.

When he leaned in to check on you, you gave a weak whimper at the sensation of his cock dragging against your walls, gasping at the sensation. Shivers went through you as he slowly pulled himself out and back in, everything feeling amplified, every little movement inside you creating flashes of white in your vision.

He groaned lowly as he continued to thrust lightly into you, your pussy relentlessly squeezing and releasing him, driving him wild. “Can you handle a little bit more for daddy?”

Every tiny movement felt immense, and you were unable to do anything but to lay lax in his hold, letting him maneuver you whichever way he wanted. But more than anything, you wanted him to get his pleasure, wanted him to use you to get it. You trusted him not to go too crazy. You nodded your consent, too winded to even try to formulate a proper response. But it seemed that he was happy with that, his cock speeding up slightly, thrusts shallow.

You whimpered at his movements, the pleasure that came with his every thrust drowning you in sensation. It had fresh tears rolling down your face, your walls fluttering uncontrollably as sparks of bliss only built and built and built.

“You feel so fucking good around me, princess,” he hissed, hands tightening their hold on your waist as he felt his release inching closer. You heard him as if through a funnel, barely taking in his words, moaning at just the sound of his voice.

He sped up slightly, movements sloppy as he used you to chase his own pleasure, moaning loudly. It was as though nothing in the world existed except for this euphoria. It felt like every cell in your body was shaking, the pleasure somehow impossibly building in you again. At a particularly deep thrust you whined, clamping down on his cock.

“You’re gonna cum again, aren’t you? God, you’re so good for me,” he grunted, biting into his lip as he neared the edge.

Determined to get you off one more time, he fought to continue his motions, moans choking out as he prevented himself from falling.

When total bliss hit you again, you went completely silent, letting it take over. Your hands twitched, pussy tightening enough to send Yoongi over the edge, spilling inside you with a roar. He panted as your cunt kept squeezing around him, rivulets of sweat dripping down his back. You hummed weakly at the feeling of warmth inside you, fighting to stay conscious after all that your body had been put through.

You barely felt it when Yoongi slipped out of you with a hiss, his hands gently lowering you to the floor as he worked to untie your wrists. You didn’t even move once you were freed, Yoongi’s hands massaging your wrists, examining them closely before setting them down.

You hardly reacted at the feeling of weightlessness that came when he moved you from the floor to the bed. You gave a low hum, relieved at the comfort of the soft mattress after kneeling on the floor for so long. A hand brushed away the hair stuck to your face, wiping at the wetness that was present there, before moving away from you.

He didn’t disappear for long before returning with a wettened towel. He’d always made sure to keep towels in the bedroom once he realized how much you needed his presence after a scene. He wiped tenderly between your legs before massaging cream into your ass and wrists.

“Are you awake, princess?” he asked softly once finished with his ministrations, noting the way you still hadn’t opened your eyes.

“Mhm,” you mumbled quietly, reaching out blindly to take his hand into yours.

“Will you drink some water for me?”

You blinked your eyes open, lids heavy. You were met by the sight of Yoongi, water bottle in hand, looking down at you in concern. He helped you to sit up, holding you steady as you drank.

“Yoongi,” you whispered upon finishing. An ugly feeling was rising in your gut, one that you wanted to put to rest right away.

“Hm?”

“Are you mad at me?” You bit your lip and fixed your eyes onto his face, scanning for any sign of disappointment or anger, relieved when you found none.

“Of course not,” he immediately answered, putting the water aside and pulling you to lay against his chest. He was surprised the thought even crossed your mind. Though, you didn’t tend to be a disobedient sub, and he supposed you weren’t used to being punished for it.

He felt the tension leave your body at his response, your clear worry sending a tinge of sadness through him. He rubbed lightly at your back, satisfied when your breaths started evening out. He turned off the lamp on the nightstand, shifting to lay both of you down comfortably. He smiled as he took in the tranquil expression on your face, leaning in to gently kiss your forehead.

“Sleep well, Y/N.”

[bowtothewitch]

Synopsis: I had this idea at 3am one week ago and couldn't get it out of my head. So, here you go, Beauty and The Beast AU!

Word Count: 1,206

Triggers Warnings: This first episode is focused on the curse, so a little bit of angst.

A/N: I have no excuse for this. 100% self indulgent fanfic. Click on the gif for HD quality. Also, english is not my first or even second language, so sorry for any eventual mistake. But I hope you guys enjoy it anyway!

Tag List: @jj-arms

"Agatha Harkness, are you a witch?" The matriarch's voice echoed through the walls of the castle's main hall, her question directed to the girl kneeling in the center of the circle made by several other women.

"Yes, I am!" She replied, writhing against the magical bonds that held her hands.

"And yet, you have betrayed your coven, stealing knowledge that goes beyond your understanding, putting us in danger of being discovered in front of the entire village!"

Agatha shook her head, "that was an accident, I swear! I couldn't control it, I-"

"Enough! I don't want to hear your excuses anymore! None of this would have happened if you hadn't tried to use black magic, breaking all of our rules!"

Before they even discovered that the book of the damned had disappeared from the library, it was already possible to feel the weight of black magic deep-rooted in the thick walls of the castle. It had started out subtle, like a shiver, a bad feeling on a full moon night.

Soon, however, it became unbearable, the air slowly being corrupted with each word that was read and turned into a spell. The bell of the west wing tower rang, alerting of the theft of the book and starting a search through the castle and its surroundings.

But Agatha had never been a fool. She could be called many things: prodigy, intelligent, and even rebellious, but never foolish. Some preventing spells avoided the book from being discovered in her possession, but it was not enough.

As much knowledge as she acquired, the witch was still very young, inexperienced, and black magic was not as simple as the one taught by her coven. Unlike that, it was a savage force, which was hardly controllable.

And then, one day, something broke inside the witch. On one of the visits to the village, more precisely. Agatha had a real fondness for flowers and always brought some back to the castle, even though the garden was already full of them. But this time, as she held a rose, one of the thorns pricked her finger and as soon as a drop of her blood dripped on the ground, her vision blurred and the voices that began as mere whispers in her mind began to scream, causing the witch to fall on the ground in despair. In the blink of an eye that glowed blue, several tents burned for no apparent reason, causing hysteria in people and chaos that would certainly last for many days. Now that paranoia had settled in the population, how long would it take before suspicions were raised against women who faithfully followed their widowed queen? There were already enough rumors about the hilltop castle and its inhabitants, and that was the spark ready to start a witch hunt.

And so it became undeniable that the culprit for practicing the darkest magic was Agatha. When her eyes opened again, she was back at home, being prepared for the trial.

But nothing had changed, including her thinking.

"I didn't break your rules, they just bended to my power," Agatha smiled arrogantly, feeling the eyes of all witches against her. Still, she kept her head up, never taking her eyes off the matriarch, who simply lowered her eyes, feeling her heart break. There was no alternative.

When silence was the only answer, everyone else understood what it meant. Soon the silence was filled with murmurs and the darkness was filled with the blue light that shone from each of their hands.

Agatha looked around, finally realizing what her penalty was. Death. Her blood ran cold, as tears filled her eyes, "please wait! I just wanted to learn! I have no control! Help me," when her pleas fell on deaf ears, her eyes turned to the matriarch, "mother, please , mot-"

And then everything became pain. It was sudden, the blinding light hitting her, making her body burn from the inside out, fire running through her veins. Agatha felt her throat burn with her screams, but she couldn't hear them, and her eyes only saw red.

But just like in the village, something happened. With one last cry, her body spasmed and the pain stopped. As if she were underwater, rising back to the surface, her senses became more and more clear. The murmurs had turned to grunts. The red and blue had turned to purple. And where she had previously felt paralyzing numbness, now only got stronger, breaking the bonds that bound her.

Looking around again, Agatha realized the reason quickly. Her body was absorbing the powers of the other witches, also taking their vital energy. She could have stopped, saved their lives, but the understanding was too satisfying for that.

Her eyes then met her mother's before the hall fell into darkness again, the sound of the bodies hitting the floor bringing her back to reality.

"Mom, please ... I can be good," her voice broke and Agatha didn't even try to stand up.

"No, you can't," tears fell from Evanora's eyes, "I failed you once, but I will not fail again."

"Are you going to finish what they started ?! Are you going to kill me ?!" She sobbed.

"I could never do that, Agatha. I am your mother," all there was in her voice was pain, "but I will not let anyone else suffer your wrath, your thirst for power has gone too far."

And once again the hall was filled with light, temporarily blinding Agatha. When her eyes adjusted, she could see her mother, hovering in front of her, her dress and hair fluttering with the strong wind suddenly coming from the window, holding a rose. The same rose from the fair.

"Agatha Harkness, I now judge your crimes as matriarch of our coven. You were consumed by the desire for power and it costed the lives of our sisters! Your punishment will be to remain here, in the castle grounds, hidden from the rest of the world and forgotten until someone you learn to love, someone that you'll be willing to sacrifice yourself for, and that returns your love, arrives; loving you even in your changed form. But remember: this must happen before the last petal of this rose falls, or the curse against you and the rest of the castle will be eternal!"

Before she could react, a blast of light took over the entire castle, the magic spreading quickly, faster and more dispersed than Agatha could absorb, transforming everyone it touched. The forest closed and rose, blocking all roads, while a transparent mantle covered the castle, hiding and isolating it, along with all of its inhabitants.

With one last look at her daughter, Evanora teleported herself behind the magic barrier, using all the magic left in her to seal the curse so that Agatha could not break it unless its conditions were met. Her heart was in pieces, but there was still hope for her daughter, she knew it was.

Within the castle walls, however, hope was the last thing Agatha felt as she looked at her black-marked hands, felt fangs growing in her mouth just like the horns on the top of her head.

For, after all, who could love a monster?

[readerinsertfanfiction]

I already DM’ed you about this @devi1s-snare (can’t tag you for some reason??), but you got the wrong inbox. If you want to request some fics go to @readerinsertfanfiction​, this blog! 

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Character: Comte de Saint Germain & Leonardo Da Vinci (separate)

Prompt: Bloodlust

The knowledge of the poison his fangs carried brought caution into his actions. To drink was to survive, but the change that came with a bite meant another end of a human life. It was a fine line and a decision that had to be constantly waged and made. One that came with a responsibility and a point of no return. It was a reason why some of his kind decided to turn away from humanity, not wishing to give into the temptation of longevity. Others saw it as a gift graced upon them, but believed that at all times it was of importance that a decision could be made and was their own. The difference in attitudes lead to the same conclusion, however. Both kept themselves away from humanity, or at least at a distance, so not to encourage the bloodlust that often appeared once affection was deepened. Yet, after the centuries lived he found that this distance maintained meant nothing to the heart that yearns. The pureblood found that, despite all of the restrictions in his actions, his emotion could not be helped and neither the continuous beating of his heart, or the thrall that pulsed through you.

Comte

He had once warned you that one day he would change you. When the two of you became one Comte had made the promise to wait until you were ready. Whether that would be at your deathbed, or some time before, the pureblood had promised that he would wait for your permission and your answer in patience.

And yet, despite all of his promises and his good sense, Comte had grown impatient, or rather his fangs had. Life was unpredictable and whilst your pulse was still strong Comte feared the day that it would suddenly be taken. That you would never decide before the time was up, for who knew when their life was supposed to end? Not even he knew.

Comte wasn’t afraid of loving you even if you lost your humanity. What he feared was you falling out of love with him after receiving a taste of immortality. It wouldn’t be the first time that feelings changed because of a shift in balance, that views and experienced clouded judgement when a new chapter started. It was for that reason that Comte wanted to make sure that you were aware of the transition that would take place once you changed. That you held no romanticised thoughts about the life of a vampire and the extended life force he could give you.

But his fangs prodded against his lips, and in a moment of loss Comte’s fangs had graced against your skin. Just a taste, no nip, nothing that could draw blood and inject the poison into you. Nothing that would change you as you were now, but enough to make you gasp as the thrall coursed through both your bodies. His in a thirst, yours in lust.

“Are you ready?” he questioned you, knowing himself to be unfair. How were you supposed to give an honest answer when you were so full of emotion? You, whose judgement was clouded at best, conscious gone and so any ability to make a sound decision. Secretly Comte was hoping to sink his fangs into your neck and turn you right here and then, but held himself back once more.

The way you wriggle and gasp in his arms, the pleading eyes turned towards him. You wanted more. He could give you more.

Once more Comte had to fight a surge of temptation as he reminded himself of the regret he would feel should he sink into you now. The regret the both of you would feel when the decision was made too hastily. The lamentation to follow once the realisation hit that there was no return possible.

Gently the man let you go as he covered his mouth. “My apologies, mon cherié. We should halt ourselves now or else we will regret.”

He said this to you, believing this to be the best course of action and the only right decision. Yet, his heart was already filling itself with the regret that he hadn’t acted upon his impulses instead. The regret that he was prolonging his own pain and terror and fueling his fear that one day he might be too late whilst he had all the time now.

Leonardo

It was when he kissed the pulse running across your neck that Leonardo felt the prodding of his fangs against his lips. The tip of the teeth that could, if it just nipped at you, turn you for eternity. A familiar prod, a feeling he had known since birth, but which had been harder to fight ever since you stepped into the light.

The pureblood had pulled away instantaneously when he felt his fangs grow, the thirst in the back of his throat burning as he found himself parched. Thirst was a familiar feeling to the man. Back in the days when blood wasn’t served in bottles and had to be hunted for Leonardo had often found himself thirsty and hungry. The days in which he spent his research seeking the extents and definition of humanity on corpses Leonardo had often deprived himself as well. It was a way for him to remind himself of what and who he was and the goals he had set out for himself. In the end he had found no solution in which he could preserve the kind that he had come to love so much but was so fleeting. In the end Leonardo had satisfied himself with the thought that humans were meant to wither, that you were meant to go away much too soon from his side.

But the pull he felt towards you, the pulse against his lips, the scent of your mortality, familiar, warm and loving. It was slowly driving him crazy. Slowly, it had turned into a method of torture and terror that he was inflicting upon himself the more time he spent with you. A feeling he came to loathe, despising his own nature, disgusted and repulsed by the need he felt and the despair he held against your fragile nature.

“I’m sorry, we will have to stop here,” Leonardo had apologised to you, firm arms pushing you away from him, as far as he could, preferably even further. He had given into his love for you, admitted that it was impossible to keep his distance both physically and emotionally. Leonardo knew what had set himself out on when the two of you decided to give into your love for one another. He knew the pain he would have to endure the more the two of you got to know each other whilst he firmly kept his promise not to turn you. Not because it was your choice, but because he refused so himself. For Leonardo believed your humanity to be the greatest gift of all that should be preserved.

Leonardo wasn’t sure how much longer he could hold himself off. There were so many risks in which he could be tempted, perhaps even forced into turning you. Thoughts and scenarios that the man didn’t like to think of. But in his long life Leonardo knew better than to ignore the anticipation of what the future could hold, for he knew that as beautiful humanity was to him it was also deeply flawed just like him.

The man could only hope that your love would run out sooner than his patience and determination for he knew that his love for you would not end anytime soon. That was his promise to you and the only certainty the man could give you.

[disconnected-dragon]

So I watched Eternals. Finally got around to typing my thoughts up.

The instant I saw Ikaris I thought "oh, knockoff Homelander from The Boys!" Because they can both fly and shoot lasers out of their eyes and have super strength and my untreated ADHD is weird about connections like that.....so when he turned out to actually be knockoff Homelander from The Boys, I was not shocked in the slightest. Go fly into the sun you bizarro creep.

Ezra Miller was good. Liked him. His costumes were mmm gender perfection. I didn't like how he basically made Jonestown over 20 generations and then just abandoned those people, leaving them with no survival skills or knowledge of the outside world at all, so they were probably picked off by wild animals or hunger or thirst. But I'm probably just thinking too hard abt this. Though I do wish tumblr would stop filling the tag with him a bit. I wanna talk about other characters, like--

Sprite wasn't robbed, they were mugged in broad daylight on a crowded intersection. They were a prime they/them transmasculine icon and they just make them evil and she/her them? And then try to be all like "ohhh I just wanna grow up" because "ahahaha, Peter Pan!" after comparing them to Tinker Bell, breaking the fucking metaphor BEFORE THEY EVEN MADE IT EXPLICIT?! And shoehorn this creepy age gap love relationship with Ikaris in when they're clearly sapphic coded-- I mean what else could could expect from Marvel, but still! C'mon! I can't have one nice thing in a movie unless it's named Dune and directed by Denis Villenuve, can't I?

Sirci was ok. I still don't know how to spell her name tho. It was nice to see an Asian American actress leading the movie, but-- tbh she was kinda bland. Her pushed romance with Ikaris sort of irked me, and she didn't seem to really be defined beyond her romances? Like she had Kit Harrington or knockoff Homelander from The Boys and she killed a god somewhere in between with her poorly defined powers. She fucking killed a god and I can't say anything about her. Great. Love that journey for us.

Mekkari my beloved. My HOH beloved. She's such a massive dork, with her collection of antiques and amulents and so many cute fangirl shit I love her. I wish we'd seen how she got that Jade Tablet instead of Ikaris and Sirci time. (Her relationship with Druig actually had more chemistry then Sirci/Ikaris but that's besides the point....) Also, she wasn't seen as a burden or lesser then because she was deaf, and the others signing to her-- ok this might be me misremembering, since I did watch this movie a few days ago, but I think the characters also made an effort to look her in the face and make eye contact with her. IDK I thought that was nice.

I like how Thena and Gilga's relationship wasn't explicitly romantic love. There were some undertones of romance, but it could be read as queerplatonic or parental. Gliga took care of Thena because he loved her like a friend, and she loved him like a friend. And then that platonic love was what motivated Thena to retake her mind and slay the Deviant. I like that. That was really cool. Speaking of the Deviant--

I wish we'd seen more of it. Why'd it get like that? Who made it like that? Was it the Red Guy God playing like 4D chess to test his Eternals, was it because humans' thinky energy had gotten so strong it warped it? Why did it look human, how was it able to mimic Mom Eternals'/Gilga's voice? Should I just read the zillionth run of comics? What's the point here?

Overall, it was a ehhhhh Marvel movie. I liked the characters, but it was sort of-- rushed? I think it would've worked better as a miniseries instead of a two hour movie, since it was trying to juggle all these things at once. The director seems like a nice lady, but she just tried to do a bit too much at one time I think.

The end credits scene with Harry Styles was a....trip tho.

So, just, TL;DR: Sprite deserved better. #LetSpriteUseThey/ThemPronouns.

[minghaocouture]

Fearless: Chapter 14 + Epilogue

Pairing: Werewolf! Jeon Wonwoo x Vampire! Reader Genre: Romance, Fantasy, Non-Idol AU WC: 2.5k+ Warning: Language, Mentions of blood, mentions of wounds, implied smut AU Lore: Vampire Coven Info/Wolf Pack Info/Lore Info Tag List: @moon-asia @uglychildd @skjdln @darkacrimson @woozisnoots @hwangjangmi @rjsmochii @fluffyhyeju​ @svtjuniverse @karmacqre​ @dwcljh​ @taeyeon-got-shmoney​ @2dmoonenback​ @moonchild9499​

Unable to tag: @Unbaeknownst @peachescherryheart A/N: So first off, don’t judge that Wonwoo edit too harshly lol, it’s my first attempt at editing and with 0 knowledge of what i’m doing >.> also I honestly can’t believe this is the last chapter. I was going to make a last chapter and then an epilogue but it fit well at the end of this chap so I just made them into one <3. Thank you guys so much for supporting me and reading this story!  

Chapter List: Chapter 1/Chapter 2/Chapter 3/Chapter 4/Chapter 5/Chapter 6/Chapter 7/Chapter 8/Chapter 9/Chapter 10/Chapter 11/Chapter 12/Chapter 13/Chapter 14

You weren’t sure how long you had been in this room. All you knew was that you were tired and hungry. Never before had the thirst been this strong, the feeling almost completely consumed your mind and you weren’t sure if it would ever go away. Cohesive thoughts seemed to escape you as your eyes stared out into the darkness of the room.

You were vaguely aware that you had been brought to the basement and that someone, you weren’t sure who, kept bringing you blood to drink, but everything else was a blur. The only thing you could recall was the limp form of Wonwoo on the ground and the feeling of the frenzy taking over you, a feeling that you couldn’t seem to shake. Being left completely in the dark about his status definitely wasn’t helping, for all you know...he did actually die that night. Yet you couldn’t even ask about him, the feeling of the frenzy seemed to always come back full force whenever someone else entered your room.

The sound of the heavy wooden door creaking open caught your attention, goosebumps pricking up on your flesh as you smelled the strong scent of fresh blood and felt a fresh wave of frenzy rush over you. It wasn’t different from when you were brought something to feed on, the blood this time smelt fresh as if it had just been spilt. The inability to control your actions, the pure primal instinct to feed or fight was all that you knew in that moment. You were on your feet in a second, dashing towards the new comer, and shoving them to the ground before they could even really enter the room. Your arms caging their head as you leaned down and attached your lips to their neck. There was no hesitation as you sunk your fangs into the supple skin and began to drink your fill.

Surprisingly there was no resistance from this new person, they didn’t try to push you away and their aura didn’t exude fear as they usually would. In fact, you felt an arm weakly wrap around your waist as you drained them of their precious blood. The feeling made you feel warm, and it was oddly familiar but you couldn’t quite put a finger on what it could be. 

“Well, that wasn’t the reaction I was hoping for, but they said you’d been really hungry.” The voice was familiar, but in your frenzy clouded mind it was so hard to think. Nothing stuck, not names, not faces, not voices. All you knew was food. The stranger let out a strangled chuckle, his hand rubbing gentle circles on the small of your back as he held you close. It was almost as if he was just...letting you drink your fill, letting you drain him as much as you needed without any kind of resistance.

As the fresh blood filled your system, it was almost as if your brain had been reset and everything was much too strong and too familiar now. Everything seemed to finally click once more as you came to your senses. Carefully yet quickly removing your fangs from your victim, you pushed yourself away just enough to be able to see his face.

He looked ragged, a large patch of gauze was carefully attached to the left side of his face and his hair was cut rather unevenly, most likely to make sure the wound of his face healed properly. His skin was almost an unhealthy clammy color and you were certain that you draining his blood had not helped him. He seemed to notice the look of recognition in your eyes and a small smile graced his face. Just from that one look the fog of your frenzy had completely vanished, as if it had never been there to begin with, and everything seemed to hit you all at once.

“Feeling better now?” 

Unable to find your voice for a moment, you simply dropped yourself back down and wrapped your arms around him as best you could from this position. You heard a small wince from below you as you buried your face into his neck once more, only this time it wasn’t so that you could feed. 

“You ass.” you muttered, doing your best to not accidentally hurt him again. “If you ever pull anything like that again, I’ll kill you myself you hear me.” 

“Of course, can’t die to any hands but yours. But…” the arm around your waist gripped you ever so tightly. “I would appreciate it if you got off...or I might actually end up dying today.”

With a speed you felt was quick even for a Vampire, you were off of him and helping him up and into the room you had previously been in. Laying him down on one of the leather couches before quickly turning on the lights, wincing yourself this time as the light blinded you for a moment. It was now that you noticed the blood that had seeped through his shirt, right where his bullet wound had been.

“You actual idiot!” You exclaimed, searching around for the first aid kits that are kept in each of the feeding rooms. You would think in a room as minimalistic as this one, it would be easy to find. “What were you thinking coming here while you were still injured! Sure, werewolf blood is disgusting but that doesn’t mean that you won’t get attacked!”

“You sure…” you heard a small grunt, glancing over your shoulder you noticed him attempting to sit up as he spoke. “You sure didn’t mind my ‘disgusting werewolf blood’ a minute ago.” 

You almost completely froze in your search as you realized, he was right. It wasn’t normal for the blood of a werewolf to taste as good as if it were a human’s blood. You vaguely wondered if that had to do with you...being his mate. There were a lot of questions to ask later, right now, making sure he survived the night was more of a priority. 

That thought was enough to get you moving again, finally locating the first aid kit and rushing over to take care of the freshly opened wound. Grabbing his shoulder, you pushed him to lay back down as you slowly lifted his shirt up so that you could get to the wound. 

“Did you actually just wake up and come straight here? Cause that would be stupid” Your tone was a bit harsh and contrasted with the gentle touch of your hands against his skin and you did your best to care for him. “Were you actually trying to get yourself killed, or something?” 

“I mean, that’s pretty much what I did.” He explained, chuckling lightly as he thought about how much trouble he was going to be in once it was discovered that he was missing. “I was worried about you.”

His words caused you to tense, eyes focusing in on properly rebandaging his abdomen. It felt like a stone had sunk into your gut as you worked, thankfully he wasn’t bleeding to harshly but it was still enough to cause you to worry.

“Save some of that worry for yourself. I’m not the one currently bleeding out on a couch.” You retorted quickly, doing your best to ignore the piercing gaze of his eyes as they followed you. After carefully taping off the bandages, you began to pull away to clean up a bit, only to be stopped by his hand gently wrapping around your wrist.

Taking a small breath to steady yourself, you finally lifted your gaze and connected eyes with the injured male. You hated how it seemed like he could see through you, like you were just an open book before him. You hated it, but it also made you feel oddly calm. It was just the effect he seemed to have on you.

“I’d rather be bleeding out here with you, than at home with Mingyu.” The tone his voice carried was an amused one, obviously joking, but kept enough weight for you to understand that his words held some truth to them.

“You shouldn’t want to bleed out at all.” You couldn’t find it in you to pull away from him, your wrist practically on fire where he touched. The same fire that you always felt with the two of you touched. It made you almost feel like you were a regular human. It made you think back to the conversation the two of you had right before the battle, about being mates. You hadn’t really gotten the chance to think too hard on the subject, but after seeing him injured. You knew that you didn’t want to see him like that again. So after a moment of silence between the two of you, you let out a small sigh.

“I want...ugh fuck...” the exclamation left your lips with a sense of irritation, you weren’t used to expressing yourself so openly. This was going to be much harder to admit

“I don’t think I can do that right now, if I’m being honest.” Taken off guard by the sudden humor from the male, you quickly pulled your wrist away. You knew that if you were human that your cheeks would be heating up with the tell tale signs of a blush and you were fairly certain Wonwoo was aware of that as well, if his light laugh was anything to go by.

“Hey, I’m sorry. Keep going.” he urged. You could tell he was trying to hold back his laughter not just so you would continue but so that he wouldn’t reopen his wound once more. 

Keeping your back to him, you crossed your arms over your chest and swallowed, hopefully swallowing your pride during the action so that you could continue with what you had been attempting to say. Your mouth felt dry and despite just having fed from Wonwoo, you felt impossibly hungry once again. 

“I want to try this mate thing.” You refused to turn around and face him, but you kept your voice firm to show that you weren’t wavering on your decision. “I can’t say I love you, but I know I care about you. Seeing you...like that made every part of me hurt, and being away from you, well it sucked okay. Especially since I wasn’t sure if you were even alive or not.” Trying to recall that night, all you remembered was being pulled away from him so that his pack could get him medical attention and then...everything was blank after that. You could recall screams, and being restrained, and then feeding but nothing was solid. You weren’t even sure of how long it had been.

“Well I am,” You heard his voice break through your rapid thoughts, bringing you back to the moment and out of the memories of that night. Just the sound of his voice seemed to be like a life preserver that you could hold onto, to keep you above the waters of your frenzy that had held a grip over you. “I’m alive, not perfectly fine yet. But I’m not dead and I’m not going to die anytime soon.” 

His words brought a comfort to your soul that you hadn’t been aware that you could feel, and a soft smile slid onto your face.

“Good, you better not. You’re not allowed to die until you look like your actual age.” You teased, finally turning back around to face him. You decided to push aside the darker thoughts that threatened to creep into your head. Letting yourself live in the moment, you had time. Not just to get to know Wonwoo but to possibly listen to the voice inside your head that was telling you that you couldn’t live without him anymore, and you were inclined to believe it. Not just because of the whole ‘mate’ thing, but because of how he had changed your life more in just a week than you had been able to change in almost a century. He was someone you wanted in your life now, and that was something you knew you had decided without the effects of the mate pull.

Taking a small bit of initiative, you bent down and gently pressed a kiss to the unbandaged side of his forehead. 

“Get some rest Wonwoo.”

“Stay with me?”

***

November 7th, 2021

“Geez guys can’t you lock the door or something!!” 

As the door slammed shut, you couldn’t stop yourself from letting out a loud awkward laugh. 

“I promise I locked it.” Wonwoo muttered, his face flushed red with embarrassment as being caught in the act by his roommate. Unfortunately neither of you had a really private place to spend time together, so this wasn’t the first time that this had happened. 

“Sure whatever you say wolf boy, I think you forgot again and just don’t wanna admit it,” You muttered, leaning down and pressing your lips firmly against his. Reveling in the feeling, kissing Wonwoo made you feel like you were floating. All of your nerve endings seemed to be set aflame when your lips met, which was probably why the two of you had been caught so many times. You just got so...lost in each other. 

Pulling away you examined his face, the marred flesh around his left eye made him look reminiscent of a character in an old cartoon you had watched. His now heterochromic eyes watched you as you stared down at him, lifting a hand to gently press against the permanent scar left over from the incident at the beginning of the year. Not only was the scar a permanent reminder of what had almost happened, but his eyesight as well. Sure it hadn’t been smooth sailing since then but...you were grateful that he hadn’t gotten put in danger like that again. 

“You’re staring again.” He muttered, his hand gently wrapped around the back of your neck before pulling you down into another kiss. It was his…’punishment’ for you, anytime he caught you staring for too long. It wasn’t much of a punishment but you sure weren’t going to tell him that. You loved his kisses. Honestly, you loved him but you decided it would be better to keep that information to yourself a little bit longer. You tried to pretend it was because you didn’t want to move too fast because of the Mate bond or whatever, but really you were still trying to get used to being vulnerable with others. It was something you struggled with, but Wonwoo knew this and was patient with you. He let you do things at your own pace. 

Gently pulling away again, you rested your forehead against his own with a soft smile on your lips.

“God, I love you.” his voice so soft that for a moment you thought you had imagined it. You felt your stomach clench slightly, the tell tale apprehension settling in once again. Letting his words settle in the air, you felt his hand gently caress your neck. “You don’t have to say it too. But I do, I love you.”

You may not have been ready to say the words out loud, but you hoped that he understood that you returned the feelings. You pushed those emotions into every kiss, every embrace. He was your and you were his. It was a relationship that you hadn’t been expecting but it was one that you never wanted to lose. 

[pheita]

100 Days of Writing Day 17 and 18

Since it is too warm over here to think any useful thought and I forgot to post for yesterday, I will go a different route today and not answer @the-wip-project​ prompts but instead have a little post for Arritit, who is Sojan’s younger sister. 

Arritit is the youngest sibling of Sojan and happen to be the strongest one regarding the magic, what made her become their generations' family mage. She is pretty open to anything sex related, what sometimes let Sojan appear prude. She used her femininity as a weapon more than once, and more than once she needed a real weapon because of her being a woman.  But underneath this strong, independent woman with a thirst for life lays a gentle heart who cares deeply for her family and friends. Her curiosity sometimes gets the better of her, and she will often do more than people expect to get her hands in knowledge. She is a playful person, who speaks her mind without a taboo.  Underneath, a short snippet about her and Sojan’s sibling relationship. Right before this scene Sojan spend the night in front of a cell because Lyran got into jail after hitting a rich asshole for being a predatory asshole towards a woman.  So also tagging @ashen-crest​ @adie-dee​ @cometworks​ @vivian-is-writing​ @viskafrer​ 

Lyran nodded weakly and turned around again. Sojan closed the door and was ready to get a few more hours of proper sleep when Arritit unexpectedly stood in his way. He gestured her with his hand to follow him. While he fell on the bed and his sleeping bag next to it, she closed the door. "What was that?" asked Arritit straight out. "An idiot who brought up bad memories with his behavior." "In more words, please." She sat down next to him at the level of his waist. "I don't know much, but he was once in the Golden Cage." "Fuck. But...", Arritit leaned backwards with a sigh, "... Fuck. How could anyone hide something like that so well?" "I don't know," Sojan yawned into his pillow, "I've only just found out too. He doesn't want to talk about it, and I don't blame him." "This isn't a brothel, this is a torture chamber. Damn!" With another heavy sigh, she lay down next to Sojan, put her arms around him and looked at him seriously. "How are you?" "I don't know. Right now, I'm too tired and too upset." "Should I be worried?" Sojan smirked a little. "No, it's enough that I worry about Lyran. Even if I don't know where it's all going." "You do know he's not Halrin?" The name of his deceased loved one struck him like a dagger. He had to take a few deep breaths in and out before he was sure his voice wouldn't leave him. "I know. Still, he won't stand a chance." "I'll find a way to have that changed. There has to be something." "Thank you." Arritit's giggle was the last thing he perceived, along with that he still felt her kiss him on the cheek, then he had fallen asleep.

[nikkywrites]

Cemetery of Power || Caffeine Challenge 30

Lila starts her ritual. A friend begs her to reconsider. Part two to this.

Used the dialogue prompt and picture sorta.

This is edited a fair bit. Some for flow’s sake, but I did tweak Lila’s spell/ritual and it changes a bit from there. No major shifts, but you may want to give this a glance over if you’re following in the transfer. This encapsulates the kind of changes that’ll happen to everything.

*****

Lila strides out of the bar, blade pressed against her side, bell dinging over her head like a toll for death. She walks around the side, to the cold, bricked, dark alley. Spray paint tags the wall, still wet, a swirl of colors that is abstract to any human that doesn’t know better, but more to those who do. It’s a doorstop for the portal she’d opened to get there.

It leads to the woods. Long grass curling around her ankles, hooked fingers from below trying to pull her in with old magic imbued and rotten. Spindly, tall trees reach for the sun, jagged branches thirsting for magic that no longer lives under it’s cover. Magic migrates, like flocking birds, to where it is easy to live, to where those who practice it reside. When the nest is left behind, empty, the twigs and dirt and sky thirst for what is now gone. These grounds were sacred, once. Lila was going to make sure that they were again, if just for a single moment.

The buildings were long gone, overtaken by nature as the centuries dragged on, but the magic they had been built with, tempered with, housed with, remains. It will take more then time and earth to remove that.

It thrums under her feet, desperate, pleading. Lila unsheathes the Soul Dagger she’d dealt Xia unfairly into relenting. It should corrupt her, leak poison into her blood that explodes her mind, taunting her with all her thoughts of death. Lila isn’t a Soul Keeper. She doesn’t have a drop of it in her past, in her ancestry. But the blade will cooperate nonetheless.

It knows what she is and what she’s going to do. It will listen. Cooperate. It’s going to do what it was made for, regardless that it’s not Xia wielding it anymore. Not a Soul Keeper. It knows this is important.

It takes souls. Cuts the bond between body and spirit. Is an astral blade forged by the Fates, eons and eons and eons ago.

There are few things older than a Soul Blade. This one, Lila knows, happens to have come from the Cutter of String. The final Fate, the lesser Fate, the one who held the shears.

She walks through the trees, pulling against the magic in the ground, in the dirt, in the trees. It obeys, with that blade in her possession. So few know of Fate’s connection with Soul Keepers. Lila knows.

She knows of it’s history while also knowing of the corpse that lays in the ground here. An old body, an old soul, old magic that powers the plants to this day, however dwindling it is. Secret knowledge. Deadly knowledge.

Kneeling, she digs her fingers into the soft earth, malleable with power. She hums a few notes of an old spell-song. She stakes the blade into the ground, to the hilt. Light spills from the edges and she drinks some in, allowing it to strengthen her throat. She begins the chant.

The tongue she uses is old. Ancient. Powerful. Forgotten. Monarchs had crumbled under the taste of a single syllable, a fraction of a word, of a sentence, of a declaration. Now, it burrows and grabs and tugs.

Bones rise from the dark dirt, shambling into a skeleton’s form. With words alone, she assembles one of the oldest skeletons, restoring it to it’s original form. To pristineness. To smooth white instead of craggled yellow-brown. When assembled, she stops. Slowly, reverently, she glides her finger along the clavicle, a sharp jutting point.

“Ward,” she breathes, running her gaze along the forgotten fragment of life. The skull tilts, in response, empty eye sockets turning towards her. “I’m sorry.”

For everything. What she’s done. What she’s doing.

Taking the dagger from the earth, she holds it in her hand. Resumes her chant, lets the power of her words shake the air. His bones vibrate. Her fist tightens and she severs the spine where it holds the skull. The bones sparkle into luminescent powder. She coaxes it into her palm. She blinks at the stinging in her eyes.

Closing her fist and pressing it to her heart, she says the part of the chant, the ritual, the spell, that’s actually draining. Important. The point of no return. Magic spears her. She opens her palm and blows the lackluster dust from her palm. The grinded remains of his bones, unneeded anymore.

It sparkles in the air, hangs still like a puppet on the end of a string. Blows away in conjured wind and becomes nothing that will ever be assembled again. Together.

Lila’s marrow burns.

“What are you doing?” A voice sounds behind her, a familiar one that is too late.

She doesn’t turn, instead aids the invading magic within her, infuses it into her breath, her being, her soul. As sacrifice, she trades three inches of her hair and a secret long passed. Her skin changes, rippling into a darker shade, adapting to a thicker epidermis, the skin of a boy who had changed magic. Who almost became a god. A true Ever. Unforgotten. Almost, almost.

Finally, she turns to her visitor, with the enchantment accepted and progressing. Changing her.

“You know what I’m doing,” she says, dual-voiced like a doubled edged sword, hers and something deeper.

Colin looks at her, pity in his eyes like a corpse from a noose. “You can’t do this.”

Her hair recedes into her skull, shorter, thicker, lighter. “You’re to late to stop me.”

“Stop trying to be him,” Colin says, a plea instead of an order because she’ll never listen to that. “You’ll never be him. He’ll take you.”

She stands, bones shifting under her skin, breaking and shattering, painful but welcome. “I’m not doing this for fun.” The feminine lilt is receding, a background echo to his deep tenor. “I’m adopting him so he won’t be lost. You can sense it. Traders are hungering for a piece of him. He was rotting. It’s too dangerous for him to lie dormant any longer. He’ll rot this forest.”

Colin steps forwards, hesitant, arms raised. “He will consume you. That tongue will only keep him bound for so long.”

His eyes, wide and green, are begging her. Please. Don’t. It’s hopeless. Already too late. He’s a part of her now and if she doesn’t get rid of him quick, things will stay that way. He will consume her. But she has to try. Too much is at stake for her not to.

“It’s not for forever. But no one can get their hands on him. Not even the company.” She fixes brown eyes that aren’t hers on her friend, steely and serious. “He’s too much. He could be used to destroy Nons. For eradication. War. It’s too much, Colin.”

Tears light his eyes. “The Garden is sealed. You won’t make it.”

The old soul bubbles within her own; a temporary extension, a temporary half. “Together we can do it. We have to try. It’s his best chance.”

His tears fall. His face collapses on itself in preemptive grief. “You won’t come back,” he whispers, voice breaking like she imagines his heart is. He steadies his breathing as her outward transformation completes. “Why is this your duty? Why does it have to be you?”

She doesn’t have any more time to spare him the answer. It’s not an easy one anyways. It has things she can’t tell him in it. Things she keeps only to herself. It’s a hard answer.

But the short of it is that no one else is capable. For reasons both in her control and not. She is Ward’s only chance at peace.

Taking a breath, first and new in this body, she stands over him. Taller, body thin and boney. Once, he had fostered all life, protected something doomed to death with his kindness, turned tides of extinction into tides of evolution. Much of magic would be dead and lost if he hadn’t sacrificed all he did. If he hadn’t created all he did. 

Unspoken, his name is just a series of letters to most, a category of spellwork to others, nothing in it’s entirety but something in fragments. To Lila, to long dead corpses, to something he bore that still remains, he is more. He belongs in the Garden, in the cage of ethereal vines that holds souls too powerful for Keepers to have and too powerful to sit in the earth he once breathed in. 

He is too much to let lie. Important in ways that don’t matter. Corrupted too much by time to be harmless and giving and true to what he was. He must be moved.

The forest would change. The Garden would change. Her and her magic would change. Stepping forwards, closer to Colin and not, her footprints sink below the mantle all the way to the core, to molten metal and chunks of forbidden, ancient magic.

His aura, even in death and new not-life, is strong. Pungent. Trees bow beneath it, grass abating, life waning. Magic leaving the forest to die. To look the same but be hollow under bark and grass and sky. Sighing, she takes a step forward in the forest and finishes her next at the gate of the Garden. The cemetery of power.

Immediately, all remaining bits of magic left behind withers. Gone ebbs the fiendish pull of the call for blood, for death, for skin. Centuries among humans had turned his kind healing into vicious corruption. His magic had rotted over time and started trying to self-live, to sustain itself on outward life.

It had tried not to fade into obscurity. It knew what it was. What it did. It knew it did not belong where it was.

Haunted woods haunted no more, Lila brandishes his power and skin like a fleet of trained men. Tearing at rust, at vegetation, at gates made of celestial, intangible steel, she demolishes the veil of protection and starts lying his soul to rest among all the dead, among world domineering strength, among vile healing and kind destruction.

She takes an old soul and heals the world.

*****

I’m still proud of this. Apparently originally I wasn’t sure about it, but I like this piece. I have no idea how the core of it came in an hour, but this is something I’m proud of. A little big, maybe, in the scope of it, but good.

Poor Colin. He’s just trying to be a good friend, but he doesn’t understand.

[og-danny-dorito]

Hancock SFW Headcanons To Satiate My Undying Thirst for This Raisin

this is dedicated to all of my 12 year old monster/humanoid obsessions, and to the ones which may follow such as this mans, John Hancock, the mayor of Goodneighbor. because I'll be damned if I see a ghoul and don't become immediately attracted to them. also these weren't requested, but @thatwolfnamednyla​ seemed interested so i'll tag them (i can remove the tag too if you want me to, just let me know).

<---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------->

S F W :

- ok so, I’m gonna start off with physical headcanons because it’s easier for me to base everything off of that 

- since most of the heights in the game are the same and they don’t really give any actual canon heights for them, I’d say that he’s about 5”5 because I love the imagine of a short man with a knife. like-

- yeah he’s definitely powerful and strong willed and mental the opposite of a short baby man, but like can you just imagine some dude walking up to you and having to look up at you because he’s small? Especially a high af ghoul man small boy? an artistic virtue

- that, and he’s generally the most crackhead out of all the companions 

- like he’s the guy to go to if you’re itching to bust out some chems and go shoot at random shit in the middle of the night cause he’s just that kinda dude 

- he lives for the thrill of things, and so obviously someone equally as crackhead as he is would fit him perfectly, but for the sake of actual relationship building I’d say that he’s better fit with a rational crackhead 

- like yeah, going out and getting yourself fucked up is great, but like not to the point of getting yourself so fucked up beyond repair, yknow? someone who takes a second and a half to think his crazy ass ideas through and THEN do it with him is the best person for the job as his metaphorical babysitter 

- and he really likes to be taken care of because he’s a sucker for that shit. I would say that he has a daddy/mommy kink but like these aren’t nsfw and so I’m not gonna bust out that nasty shit just yet 

- that said, being his partner doesn’t have very specific guidelines. being pansexual AND polyamorous allows him to love freely as he was genetically destined to anyway 

- seriously, he’s attracted to you if you say something nice to him and show a little bit of interest that’s just how it is. he doesnt really think of appearances unless he's only out for dick

- he doesn’t really have a specific type either??? but he finds timid and nervous people so fucking cute. like,,, if you keep apologizing because of small things he’ll ruffle your hair and start calling you ‘kid’ and ‘sweetie’ cause honestly it’s just so sweet to see you get all nervous and shy 

- it literally makes him want to fistfight someone in an abandoned parking lot for you and he can't help his protectionist ways

- like he likes to be taken care of yeah, but he ends up setting y’all in the ‘give some get some’ scenario where it’s more of a partnership 

- jokingly calls you ‘smoothskin’ even if your skin isn’t smooth like you’re scarred or something. it cracks him up because he does it in a smoker voice too but he already sounds like a smoker so he ends up coughing a little bit after in between laughs 

- biggest goofball on the planet 

- will literally play pranks on you because he finds it funny, like using makeshift pre-war whoopee cushion and shit like that. will also 100% love it if you prank him back. he doesn’t take much seriously and so any form of mild joking makes him genuinely happy 

- if you’re inclined to more permanent relationships however, this could become an issue. not the whole whoopee cushion thing the seriousness thing

- just because he does sleep with other people and lowkey tell you all the time about how “That raider was packin, and I don’t mean to be a whore but honestly like if he wanted some he could get some.”, it doesn’t mean he doesn’t love you. it’s just that it’s normal for him to be attracted to other people at the same time. it can be more than one person at once, which can sometimes be a problem if more traditional people not cool with it 

- confronting him about it either to confirm it negatively or positively depends on your preference. he didn’t really think of this as permanent in the first place, more of a friends with benefits situation where you also benefit each other with extreme emotional support, and so you wanting to make it serious will trigger his fear of commitment 

- therefore, if you’re not okay with it he may have a hard time adapting, but if he’s really grown on you then he can try to be better about it. he won’t make the one he loves uncomfortable without their permission, but he’ll try his best to explain it (the best that he can doesn't necessarily that he’ll do it well though) 

- if you’re alright with it then he will most likely bring up the topic of either threesomes/poly-somes and/or adding someone else to your romantic stuff or something like that if either of areyou is interested. communication is key in this sort of thing, and so he’ll almost always go to you before like trying to initiate anything with someone after talking with them and you about the situation 

- oh did I mention fear of commitment? Cause I’m about to get real angsty 

- MAN does he have an issue with it. not only that, but the reason he doesn’t really view this thing as permanent is because he’s fairly certain he’ll outlive you. he's terrified of loosing you one day and then not knowing what the he'll to do with himself for the rest of his life. he’s scared of being tied down it totally goes against his whole thing of freedom, and since he’s already conflicted about anarchy and order he literally avoids thinking about settling down with anyone or anything 

- he’s holding onto a past that brought him joy then, but could ruin him now. and the best way to deal with that is to try to get through it as best as you can and leave the past behind, but he still finds himself reminiscing about things that could’ve happened 

- it keeps him up sometimes, thinking about it. he’ll lay flat on his back in bed, staring at the ceiling for hours at a time just... thinking. and only when he’s lightly pressed about it will he say something, and even then it seems more like he’s struggling to find the words. It’s weird how he can talk to goodneighbor’s citizens like it’s nothing, but talking about himself gets him all choked up 

- he would very much like it if you just like, kissed his face or hold his hand sometimes. to him it speaks more than a thousand words, and if he’s really having a hard time it means everything for you to be there for him 

- that, and with the fact that you’re his best friend means that you’re his ride or die partner in crime 

- just sitting around and doing chems with you and getting all philosophical or doing dumb shit is pretty much all he needs to be satisfied with you, and he really likes hearing you talk about pre-war society 

- whether your views are negative or positive, he likes hearing about the way things used to work. he likes your stories about how you grew up and how you came to be who you are today, and a lot of the time he finds himself asking you about something he doesn’t know because you’re technically the ultimate source of knowledge on that stiff by this point 

- you’d have to assure him that you didn’t know everything and no, you had no idea what year that random object he found was made, but he likes it anyway. you pique his interest, and just sharing a few mindset traits with you makes him feel much more secure and like you’ve got something that matters to the both of you 

- that, and he thinks you’re the coolest motherfucker on the planet 

- he’d probably be more attracted to free spirits, those who hold a strong moral code and defend it like it’s their lifeline. obviously he has a wide range of romantic and causal interest guidelines, but that’s the key point there. Someone who stands for what they believe in and protects those around them 

- and NOW for my favorite part, miscellaneous headcanons ; 

he’s probably the most openly sexual out of all the companions besides Gage, but tbh gage isn't down to walk naked through commonwealth and he is so obviously he’s the most freaky 

he’s more himbo oriented, although with this chart done originally by @cockneydio​

I can tell you that he’s this 👌 close to being a feral himbo and is probably turned on by danger so you can already tell what kinda bitch he is 

he likes to give you his jacket when you’re cold or he just feels like it and it usually smells like cigarettes and gunpowder 

thinks that pastel colors and soft clothes are kind of cute on people for some reason 

is a sucker for pda, might die if you kiss on his neck or tell him he looks nice that day while you���re in public. Also super into just randomly slapping your ass because he finds it hilarious (slapping his ass in turn earns you a flirty comment and a mildly turned on raisin man) 

loves receiving gifts from you and equally as much giving them, which is commonly just cool little things he’s found and thought you would like 

makes cheesy pick up lines all the time and you can’t change my mind 

would die for pet names, given or received. like yes call him “honey” and “sugar” he will MELT he's just a big nerd

he's kinda self conscious about himself around you, but likes phsycial contact too much to deny himself of it so he's literally always attached to you and/or on top of you if he can help it

- hancock isn’t feral, but he sure does act like it sometimes. what he needs is someone who can balance him out and give him the space when he needs it, and who genuinely cares about he people around them regardless of who or what they are. just being there for him on the bad days means the world to him, and he wouldn’t give what y'all have up for all the caps and chems in the world