#and executioner would be a black cat.//

[the-pasts-revival]

what would executioner and evelyn be as animals?

“ I would be a puppy!!! Theyre so adorable!!! ”

“ ....Cat. ”

[nialovessatoru]

Baptized in Fear

accused witch! reader x king’s investigator! geto

mdni!

content: 1600’s historical au, smut, explicit sexual descriptions, misogyny (not from geto), mentions of witch trials, religion, death, violence, false accusations, geto has a strong sense of justice

word count: 2.7k

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you don’t know what their last straw was.

was it when you corrected that one man about the berries being highly poisonous?

was it when you told a few drunkards to leave that poor lady alone?

or was it maybe when said lady turned on you a few days later, claiming you had bewitched her husband?

it didn’t matter, in here, not with the cold, humid, hard stone you were sitting on in the dark cell with only a single, barred window to allow a glimpse of light inside.

you sat numbly, awaiting a trial you knew would fail you the same way it has any woman before you.

it’s not that you weren’t scared at all, but what was the point of fear, if there was no hope?

you may aswell just resign and not give anyone the satisfaction of breaking you down mentally before they did it physically.

the sound of boots clinking against the hard, stone floor echoed down the corridor. the steps didn’t sound like the heavy stomps of the guards, or the hurried shuffles of a priest coming to pray and spray you with holy water, as if you were a misbehaving cat.

these steps were deliberate and confident. whoever this man was, he moved like he was in control. which, you supposed, he probably was, if he was walking to your cell at this hour.

you didn’t look up when his keys unlocked the door, didn’t look up as he stepped inside, only lifting your head when his oddly soft and alluring, albeit firm and decisive voice broke the silence. “you are the young woman they call satan’s underling.”

it was hard to distinguish his figure in the dark cell with no daylight shining through, only scarcely lit by the candle in his hand. you only make out his long black hair, framing what seemed to be a handsome face from what you could make out and his tall statue, looming over your form on the floor. you spotted what looked like a badge of some sort, seemingly indicating a higher rank. it didn’t intimidate you, your fate was already sealed. you merely responded with a low hum.

“so they say.”

“indeed.”

there was a pause, in which you concluded, he must he some sort of official. higher ranked than any guard, lesser than the priest, although his presence seemed as if it were able to command even the bringer of the lord’s words.

you didn’t beg, or cry, or curse at him, only asked if he believed in them.

“i’ve met them. you’re not one.

the real devils are not amongst the women striving to survive, they’re the men tying them down. the same ones calling themselves a devoted follower of our lord, while they burn down the women they vowed to protect.”

his words resonated deeply with you, making you pause. he said it with such assuredness and a sense of righteousness, sounded so disgusted by the men he was talking about. you wondered if that’s why he was here. if he came to serve justice.

“so what are you then? the executioner or a savior?”

his lips curled slightly, not quite a smirk, more of a tired smile.

“neither. but you’re free to see me as you will.”

“did you come to assess if i shall be subject to being burned at stake, being drowned as the town cheers or merely public harassment and shame?” there it was, your voice sharpening slightly, tinged with sarcasm and full of mockery. the same tone that made them call you wicked.

“i came”, he didn’t. didn’t even flinch or raise a brow in disdain at your defiance. his voice was steady, measured, contempt shining through with each word uttered, “to ask why the accusations are conveniently always beautiful women not obliging men, and in fact, why the guilty are never said debauched men themselves.”

leaning down, he cut the ropes on your wrists with a knife and helped you up, despite your reluctance. his warm hands were a welcome comfort to your frigid body.

“i’ll get you out. follow me, before the real devil’s apprentices demand for you to do the same.”

you did. maybe he was lying, maybe he was just as much of a scum as the men he seemed to loathe. but you didn’t have anything to lose. though, something (perhaps it was the little naive splinter of hope left in you) told you he was being sincere and it ignited a familiar spark of curiosity.

“will you tell me who you are?”

outside, with the moonlight illuminating the village, you were finally able to properly see his features, which made you hold your breath for a moment. he was gorgeous. turning to look at you with his lips in a small smile, purple eyes crinkled lightly with it. fair, flawless skin framed by dark, silky strands of hair, tied into a half bun.

“Geto Suguru. investigator for the crown. i am looking into the rising number of witch trials in this area.”

the number was indeed rising rapidly. you believed you were the third case in your immediate neighbourhood in merely two weeks.

“how many have you saved?”

you could see his gaze shift to the floor, expression bitter as his fist clenched.

“not nearly enough. the people tend to disregard justice in the name of fear or the anticipation of a grande spectacle. they dare sully the name of the lord for their heinous crimes and never face consequences. such blasphemy and blatant evil all because they cannot fathom a free, unrestrained woman.”

his jaw was clenched, even after silence had settled over both of you, while he was leading you— somehwere you noticed, you hadn’t cared to ask in the small glimmer of hope that wherever it was, you would be safe there. you understood his contempt better than anyone. but you were wary. he was a man. one in power just like them. there was no guarantee that he was sincere, even if you desperately wanted him to be. defiant as you were, you could easily try to push him to reveal his true colors.

“you speak boldly for a man in their pocket.”

“i am in no one’s pocket.”, he paused slightly, voice firmer, but not unkind, resuming walking, “i answer only to the crown. and even then… not unconditionally.”

your lips parted to retort something but the words died on your tongue when he continued.

“the law is futile and corrupt, if it fails to protect all of its subjects, as is any ruler enforcing it. i strive to protect the ones i can to the best of my abilities. and one day, the monsters shall be punished and the people freed.”

you both reached a carriage and he opened the door for you.

“so no, i am not in their pocket. i would not fit in.”

despite your instincts telling you to be wary, your doubts slowly dissolved. any man who wanted to chain you down, simply would have done that. there was no need for these carefully crafted lies, this act. and he was unlocking the chains, not tightening them. giving you freedom to get into the carriage or run and be on your own.

so you got in.

not because you trusted him, but because you wanted to believe him. needed someone to share your hatred and anger at the injustices that make this world rot to its core.

his home was larger than any you had seen before, warmed by a fire and sparsely furnished, clean and practical.

at first, he didn’t say anything, only removed his coat and watched you with a certain softness in his gaze. it wasn’t quite pity, more like understanding what it was like to disguise your pain as pride.

after a few minutes of having left into another room, he came back and told you that he had prepared a bath and some clean clothes for you. but you kept standing there, staring at him for a moment.

he took your hand in his, not grabbing it or squeezing it, only laying it loosely in his warm one as if to reassure you.

“you can rest here. i promise you, no one will harm you. i will not do anything, should you not wish for me to.” with that, he let your hand drop to your side again and you forced a small nod, heading to his bathroom.

you came back outside, dressed in the thin linen cloth, clinging to your damp skin, hair still dripping.

he looked up from where he was sat at the fire and motioned for you to sit wherever you wanted to. you picked the spot on the chaise lounge next to him. both of your curious eyes fixed on eachother, yours guarded, his unwavering and tinged with softness.

“what is it you want from me?”

“nothing.”, he tilted his head at you, looking over your form, fixing onto the spot where your thighs almost touched. “not unless you want something from me.”

“and if i do?”

his eyes snapped back to yours, filled with something intense, but reluctant.

“you only need to ask.”

as you moved closer to him, your thighs touching his, the linen clothes that were too big for you slipped from your shoulder, and you let it.

his hand came up, brushing the skin of your shoulder so light, it was barely even a touch. it left a trail of fire under your skin, over your neck and collarbone, resting there when you leaned in, face only inches from his.

“say it.”, he whispered, voice low, “if you want this.”

you didn’t. only took his hand in yours and brought it to your breast, pressing his palm against the soft flesh while looking into his eyes.

you could hear his breath hitch as he slowly trailed his fingers over your nipple, sending surges of pleasure through you, but he shook his head, leaning closer, his breath ghosting your lips. “i need you to use your words, beautiful.”

“i want you.” you began, making him breath in your words as you already brushed his lips with yours in a soft kiss. “touch me, geto.”

and he did, allowing his hand to finally squeeze your breast, his other hand hoisted you into his lap by your hip. “it’s suguru.”

grinding down in his lap, feeling his hardening cock against your core through the thin layers of clothes, you repeated his name. the sound of your breathy voice whispering his name into the hungry kisses you shared, drove him crazy.

involuntarily he bucked his hips up into yours, you could feel the delicious friction of his large cock against your needy cunt and grinded down against him harder.

his hands roamed over your figure and stripped the rest of the linen cloth off of your form, your own hands were fumbling with his clothes.

he layed you down on your back and removed his clothes, your breath hitched and thighs clenched together when you saw that his form was indeed broad and not only due to his attire, his muscles defined, skin littered with scars, a few small ones and two big ones over his chest.

and then there was his lower half, his erect cock thick and long, the tip flushed with arousal and coated in precum, which he used to stroke his length for a few times before climbing over you.

instead of his cock, however, you felt two fingers collect your slick, rubbing it along your folds and then sinking in, making you gasp, while he groaned, “you’re so tight…”

his fingers started thrusting into you slowly, curling just right, making you moan his name, “s-suguru”

he murmured against your collarbone between kisses, “i know. just relax.”

your back arched off the chaise when he pulled his fingers out to rub your clit, mouth falling open in silent moans.

he kept circling it even after the first high had passed, making your legs twitch slightly, “tell me you want me.”

and you did, hands clasping his bicep as he kept the rhythm of his ministrations up, threatening to push you over the edge again, “i- i want you— ah— please, suguru.”

he chuckled and removed his hand from your cunt and instead you felt his the tip cock sliding into your wet cunt, stretching you out.

he groaned, “you’re so tight..”, lose strands of his silky black hair hanging down from his face, your hands tangled in them on the back of his head as he nestled the entire length of his cock inside of you.

a shaky moan escaped your lips when he bottoms out and sunk back into your cunt. he repeated the movement over and over in an agonisingly slow but deep manner, each thrust knocked the breath out of your lungs. one particularly deep thrust made your hands involuntarily pull on his hair, to which he increased the pace, his hands held your hips in place as his cock slid right back inside your cunt with obscene squelching noises from your arousal.

after few more thrusts you could already feel yourself clenching around him again and he pressed a palm flat over your stomach, “fuck… do you feel me? feel how deep i am inside of you?”, his hands applies the slightest pressure, “right here.” and it made you see stars as you fell apart on his cock with a soft cry, your pussy spasmed and clenched around his still pistoning cock.

he followed right after you, pulling out just in time to release his warm, sticky cum over your thighs.

he let you catch your breath, peppering kisses over your cheek while you did.

eventually he cleaned you up and carried you into his bed.

you laid in his bed, limbs tangled under his sheets, embracing eachother for a while.

his hand was gently stroking your back when he broke the silence first. “i’ll clear your name.” his voice was quiet but certain, “you’ll be free again.”

you stayed in his hold, it sounded too good to be true. “they’ll find new reasons.”

he was silent for a moment, the hand that was stroking the skin of your back stilled.

“you could stay with me.”

you lifted your head go look at him, mouth agape, but he spoke before you could.

“my living quarters are large enough, you’d have your own space. i won’t ask anything of you.”

his hand found your cheek, cradling it in his palm. “you wouldn’t need to hide. you’d barely even have to see me if you don’t want to.”

you allowed yourself to lean into his palm. “why would you do that for me?” he’d done more than enough already.

“because you shouldn’t have to live in fear and poverty.”

about to retort that you didn’t want his kindness due to pity for you, when he already added, more firmly, “it’s not because i feel sorry for you. i admire you. for keeping your head held high and not mincing your words even when the situation was hopeless. you’re strong. stronger than any of them could ever dream to be.”

your breath catches in your throat at how sincere he sounds.

“you frighten them because they can’t own you. and i want you to know that i have no intention of trying. the choice will always be yours when you’re with me.”

the defenses in your heart lowered the slightest bit, not because you believed in safety or salvation, but because you believed him.

and you yearned for what he offered. even if you barely knew eachother and maybe never would, even if this is the closest you’ll ever get to freedom, still formally under a man, even if you’d forever be restricted in certain ways, you knew he was the only option you had to even come close to freedom or fairness or control.

so you nodded slowly.

“i’ll consider it.”

and if— when you stayed, you’d embrace every privilege he granted you, use every opportunity to speak your mind, make your own choices and voice your anger, unashamed and fearless

for all the women who never could.

and he’d let you.

grieve and seethe with you for every woman he wouldn’t be able to save.

and if the world would end up burning you regardless, at least you wouldn’t be alone.

divider by @uzmacchiato

[mellowwillowy]

Hi I'm not sure if you do sub yan..but here's my req sub male yan with pregnancy/lactation kink..fem dom

Almost Anything is on the table, I was using AMAB intersex reader for this but decided to set it as GN in the end. Yan! Sub Golden Retriever energy x GN Black Cat! Reader energy

“Please…” the man beneath you whined as he humped against your thigh, mouth drooling for a taste of your breast, “I really need them…”

You ruffled his messy red hair playfully, dark shades of purple lipstick marks all over his fucked up face and body. “Do you?”

His cock twitched at your remarks, his head nodded in eagerness as he brought your hand to his face, tongue grazing your manicured fingernails, “Need em’ real bad to the point I’ll just cum from latching them…”

You hummed at him, eyes trained on his naked body that was bruised in purple shades of your lipstick and blood clots.

“Do you?”

“Yes, my Master!” He looked up to you unblinking.

Your hand went to unzip the turtleneck shirt you were wearing, allowing his eyes to feast on your bare body. Just before he could dive in to have a mouthful of your breast, your hand yanked his head backward by his messy red hair, "Where's your manner?"

Lucius chewed on his lower lip before he begged again, this time tears pooling in his amethyst eyes, "My Master, please..." He blinked away his tears, "Let this lowly mutt indulge himself for a moment and he shall return the gratitude thrice fold."

Your ribboned tail swished, eyebrows raised as you waited for him to say more. And he did. He squirmed beneath you, his knees sore from the kneeling position that he had been set for what seemed to be hours, mouth dry from pleas before he delivered an ultimatum,

"I will let my Master massacre the mutts I lead."

At that your lip curled into a smirk, your hand let go of his head and he took his chance to dive in, tongue feeling your hardened nipple while the other was twisted and pinched by his fingers.

You sighed lovingly as your heels dug into his thigh and cock, pressing it harder and deeper as you felt his breath grow raggier and unsteady with each second passing.

He'd love to taste the milk out of your breast, to feel how your breasts swelled inside it and enlarge them from their original sizes. Alas, it would be impossible unless he could put your guard down and sneak magic into your autonomy.

But as for now, the mutt was completely content with salivating over his executioner's breasts, dirtying their heel's sole with his cum. Oh he would enjoy licking them clean.

[semisolidmind]

So, in your college au, assuming catnap does end up murdering y/n, why? for what reason would the prototype ask for y/n's execution?, also how would dogday and the others feel? does dogday ever find out who murdered y/n or if he was even murdered? are they just reported missing? does catnap get away with it?, and if he doesn't and dogday ends up finding out, what's his reaction towards his brother's actions? Sorry if this was long I got questions and they need answers😭

ive been thinking about it, and i think that the prototype (which is a demonic entity in this au) wouldn't really have a good reason to command catnap kill y/n.

y/n is good to catnap. you'll see after i finally draw him, but cat is skinny. mans forgets to feed himself, and the red smoke drug throws his mindfulness and metabolism all outta wack. y/n, good friend that they are, reminds catnap to eat. they'll bring him food that they make. they let him "steal" food from their plate at lunch time. (dogday, being a good brother, does these things too, but it's kinda his job so it doesn't make as big of an impact).

the "angel" is keeping his executioner functioning when he can't, so the prototype shouldn't have a reason to want them dead. unless, perhaps, he thought that they were making the executioner soft. that's not the case (he does his job just fine regardless of any growing attachments), but if it were and catnap was slacking...

the prototype would take over. he'd have his acolytes send catnap a very high dosage of the red smoke drug, allowing the demon to take hold of him fully. catnap would black out.

the next morning, he startles awake in bed to the sound of his brother's cry of anguish. he goes into the kitchen to see dogday clutching his phone to one ear, hunched over and crying. the canid can't speak through his tears for a long while. catnap stands awkwardly, waiting for him to speak as the dread creeps up his spine.

catnap's heart stops with dogday's stuttered admission of what has him so upset; y/n is dead. the police found them this morning.

the feline says nothing, does nothing, but feels the sting in his eyes, tears on his face, and the impact of his brother's arms solidly embracing him.

why...why would the prototype do this? there was no reason to kill the angel, they hadn't done anything wrong, they weren't in the way, hadn't crossed him, there shouldn't have...

he doesn't understand.

when he goes to the bathroom later to freshen up, catnap notices the small flecks of blood under his claws. he feels like throwing up.

but he doesn't. he washes the blood away, and leaves the bathroom.

catnap remains as silent as he always has. he says nothing when he and dogday are inevitably questioned by the police (as two people who were close to y/n), the grief (and the prototype's voice) rendering him unable to even write out a response. they let him go, accepting his alibi. he was home all evening, of course.

he attends the funeral in a daze. he stands and watches the casket be lowered into the ground, far away from his body. he can still feel the fog of the prototype's influence hovering in the back of his mind.

for the first time in a long time, catnap's faith in his god is shaken.

———

dogday is never the same after y/n's death. the light in his eyes is gone. after the funeral, he isolates himself, only leaving to attend class and complete errands. he barely speaks to his friends, though they continue to visit him and offer their support.

eventually, each of the critters is murdered by catnap at the behest of the prototype. these murders are completed by a much colder and less caring catnap, who, after y/n's death, has no mercy left to spare (the prototype takes advantage of his vessels' grief to take further control of him).

dogday's reaction to each death becomes angrier and angrier.

he's wanted to find the killer ever since the string of murders started, but now he's searching with a single-minded purpose.

he gets better at wielding a pistol, better at wielding a hunting knife...he takes self defense and fighting classes. dogday slowly turns himself into a weapon.

dogday finally figures out where the cult is hiding. an abandoned mine system in a nature reserve a short drive away from town, converted into a "holy site" and the place where the cult sacrifices their victims. he drives out there to confront their executioner.

when he finds out that it's catnap, his own little brother...it's too late for sentimentality. his friends are gone. the love of his life is gone. countless others have lost their lives to this... this thing wearing his brother's skin.

at this point, the prototype has almost fully possessed catnap. the transference into the felines' body is almost complete, and during this time he is most vulnerable...but still incredibly powerful.

the fight between the dog and cat is climactic and bloody. a clash of claws, knives, and a struggle for dogday's gun. the forest floor beneath the struggle is spattered with blood, both men covered in open wounds.

it's a close battle, but catnap, despite being nearly fully under the prototype's influence, breaks the hold long enough to allow himself to be killed.

it's the least he can do, after all the trouble he's caused.

dogday pulls the trigger. a clean shot through the heart. killing catnap kills the prototype.

dogday glares down at the body that once housed his little brother. there is nothing of him in the battered corpse before him now... aside from the small, satisfied smile on his muzzle.

dogday finally allows himself to break down. he sobs over the many great losses he's suffered. but...but he has to get out of there. the cult members will be there any minute, and he can't be there when they do. he calls from a campsite phone booth to report catnap's body, and leaves it in the woods.

dogday does his best to recover.

months pass. with their god dead, activity from the cult peters out.

[iluminatka16]

The Bat And The Cat

Tags: Konrad Curze x f!oc, chaotic fluff, cuddling, two menacies to society in too close proximity to each other, air jail

Warnings: mention of torture and suggestion of SA

Summary: The two most stubborn people in the galaxy have a nightmare and need some comfort. Or - how (not) to wake up a primarch.

Word count: 1808

English isn't my first language so sorry for any mistakes.

A gentle application of force was enough to make the skin on her abdomen break. In the slums, knives were blunt and often worn out, so the whole process was much more painful. Although she was Perpetual, she still felt pain when someone brought her guts out into the open. She was sitting strapped to a chair when blood gushed from her abdomen, the gritty texture of the leftover fat in her emaciated body visible as day. However, that wasn't the worst of it. In front of her, on the floor, lay the silhouette of a man. His inhumanly handsome and, to many, terrifying face was contorted into a tired grimace. His long black hair was scattered across the floor, and his dark eyes stared into the void. However, she didn't dare look down below, where there was a yawning wound on his neck that separated his head from the rest of his body. She stared silently at the man's body as her executioner continued to cut off his skin and flesh piece by piece. Piece by piece.

Falka rose abruptly, panting. Sweat ran down her forehead, and her heart pounded as if it was about to jump out of her chest. With a trembling hand, she touched her cheek, tracing a wet mark on her skin with her finger. She must have cried in her sleep. She wiped her face with one hand in an attempt to calm down, and with the other she reached down to her abdomen, touching the countless scars that covered it. There was no trace of the wound. Falka sighed quietly. She turned onto her stomach, drawing the pillow to her body. She tried to fall asleep, but she could not get rid of the unpleasant feeling that, like an icy fist, clenched on her heart. She was still angry and raw after their earlier argument, she had no desire to see his face. However, the feeling of unease did not leave her even as she tried to suffocate herself with a fluffy mass, pressing her face into the pillow. After several minutes of trashing, she finally rose furiously to sit down, clasping her hands on the satin material. Cursing under her breath, she stood up and put her slippers on her bare feet. Fucking ship. If it weren't for the fact that they were currently traveling through the Warp, she would have opened a portal and escaped the fucking metal can. As far away from him, his sons and all those memories as possible.

Falka opened the door to her quarters and stepped out into the hallway. She looked crazy to say the least - clad only in a nightgown, she moved through the halls like a phantom. She quickly found herself in front of Konrad's quarters, or better put, chamber. For someone who prided himself on a frugal lifestyle, Curze liked his bedroom to be decorated with splendor. Beds on the Nostramo for the poorest were a luxury, as were many other aspects of daily life. Falka swallowed bitterly at the memory of the musty mat on the floor, which might as well not have been there, that she shared with the woman what gave birth to her, or the later cold floor she was forced to sleep on for most of her teenage years. Their childhood in the shithole had twisted them in various ways, in Konrad's case one of it was an obsession with keeping his bedroom as if he were to house his older brother, Fulgrim.

Not that she was complaining. After all, she spent most of her nights there instead in her quarters.

She passed two Night Lords standing outside the entrance. They didn't question her. Of course they didn't. She had been in Konrad's life too long not to know any of his sons. Even if not by name. She noiselessly opened the door, noting in her mind that if she stopped being angry with Curze she was to tell him about the fact that he should do something about those hinges because they don't make any sound, which is dangerous, and then entered the room. She expected Konrad to hear her footsteps, that when she approached his bed she would find dark eyes pointed accusingly at her and a question about what possessed her at this hour. Fucking bastard.

To her shock, only silence greeted her, punctuated by the quiet, barely audible, buzzing of the ship. Falka felt the blood drain from her face. She walked closer to the bed, fearing she would see the worst. But panic was quickly replaced by relief and involuntary annoyance when a quiet whine came to her ears, and she could see Konrad trashing on the bed. He was mumbling something under his breath, his hands clenched on the sheet, tearing it in several pieces. He was having a nightmare, just like she had a few minutes earlier. Falka knew better than to wake him up when he was like this. Especially when he was in a bad mood before going to bed. The scar on her arm regularly reminded her of this. Having no other choice and perhaps feeling a slight need to teach him a lesson, Falka grabbed one of the pillows on the chair, swung and threw it straight at his face. It bounced off him, snapping him out of his sleep. Konrad growled like an animal visibly shocked by what had happened, his hand instinctively hurling the pillow to the other side of the room.

"What the..." he began, panting. Then his gaze fell on Falka. "What are you just.... YOU LITTLE BITCH, HOW DARE YOU..."

Konrad grabbed the quilt with his hands and uncovered himself. His eyes, as if in a frenzy, passed around the room, trying to understand what was happening. He tried to get up, but was stopped by the small hands on his shoulders. Falka thought she was going to start crying again when she felt the warmth of his skin, indicative of his condition quite far from death. Not that she would have been able to hold him for long - Konrad was more than 3 ft taller than her and somehow twenty times stronger. But it was enough of an element of surprise that she approached him so boldly, doing something most people would have had their guts ripped out for. Not that throwing a pillow at the primarch's pretty face was any less of a crime by any measure.

Without waiting for his sleep-blinded mind to process the information, Falka merely crawled into his lap. Her body clung to his chest, and she closed her eyes, allowing herself to listen to the beating of his twin hearts. He was terrified or upset about something. But he was alive. And that was the most important thing. This arrogant, sarcastic asshole was alive. His breathing now quickened, his body tense as the muscles under his skin moved. Falka was so lost in a sense of relief that she ignored Konrad's hostile demeanor and the curses rained down on her. If he wants to pull her away he will do so without a problem. Now she had no intention of moving from her favorite cushion.

She was snapped out of her reverie by a hand pressed against her head. His fingers moved through her ginger strands, untangling one of the tangles that had formed there during her nightly trashing. And slowly, Konrad sank back onto the pillow again, cradling her to his chest.

"Madwoman." He muttered. "What, you aren't angry with me anymore?" His voice, though filled with sarcasm, had no real venom in it.

Falka shifted slightly, searching for the most comfortable spot and muttering quietly. Then she felt Konrad's hand move from her head, to her neck. She was ready to bite him if he got the idea of strangling her, but instead she only felt his fingers finding her pulse point and pressing gently. When he received confirmation that the girl in his arms was indeed alive, Falka could hear the frantic beating of his heartbeat slowly change to a steady one, indicating that he had calmed down. She didn't know why, but at the gesture there was a warmth in her chest that pride wouldn't let her name.

"I had a nightmare." Falka muttered after a moment of silence. She expected the mocking scoff that Konrad liked to use when he was still raw after their arguments. But instead she felt his hand move from her neck to her back and start stroking the skin there. "From that night, when the pimp of the woman who gave birth to me discovered that I could regenerate myself and gave me to my first and last client."

Falka felt Konrad's body tighten. The memory of these people upset him even 300 years after the events. The hand on her back stopped to press her against his chest, trying to protect her from the world. The other, on the other hand, reached for the quilt and forced it over them, covering them with it.

"I still regret that he died so quickly when I skinned him alive." Konrad whispered, her voice this time devoid of sarcasm, turning more into a... purr? It was a rumbling sound from his throat, a tone of voice reserved only for her when she needed comfort or they were relaxed.

For a few seconds, Falka wondered if she should tell him that he had died in that dream, but refrained. Konrad was paranoid and might begin to think that the dream was not a symptom of PTSD after all, but a vision of the future where he would be killed and she tortured.

"And you? You were screaming like a little girl when I found you" Falka asked, sliding her hand over the skin of his arm. She was snapped out of her blissful moment by a light smack to the back of her head. "Ouch, you asshole!"

"Liar."

"I'm telling the truth and I can demonstrate."

"You're the one who's about to scream if you don't calm down."

Falka was about to respond with something clever, but at that moment strong hands pulled her off his chest. For a moment he held her in the air on top of him, wanting to make fun of her low height and how easily he could lift her. The disrespect… Falka with annoyance began to wince, trying to kick him, but the next second she lay safely immobilized between his arms as he rolled to his side and pressed her against him.

"You're choking me!" Falka wheezed out, struggling.

In response, Konrad merely pulled her closer and tucked her head under his chin.

"Good. Suffer.”

___

Uff, and my first fic on tumblr is published. Don't come for me for using wrong tags, I'm still learning haha.

[scarlet-fangs]

For the protective prompts: "You’d defy the gods, only for me?” "! would destroy the gods for you." 🤍🦢

Thank you for the ask my darling friend, I hope you will like this 🦇🖤 I’ve wanted to write for a while some forbidden romance thing for Felix, and this is perfect for it! This is some kind of Black Swan related because it fits perfectly with their dynamics. The music they listen to is from my Black Swan Spotify playlist (under the black swan tag!) Some warnings are very much needed – But it’s Felix after all so it has to be expected: Cullen bashing, Size kink, some nswf talks, mention of blood (kink) Felix’s very lovely hands…

Fic under the cut

Ever since I met him while driving my younger sister to the Cullens, they’ve been trying to keep me away from him. “He’s a monster, Black Swan! He kills people, Black Swan! He feeds of humans, Black Swan!” Who cares that he’s scary-looking and kills people? He’s tall and hot! He’s my mate! He complimented me about my patch jacket!

Carlisle was a little bit nicer about it than the rest of them. He felt maybe that it was his fault, because before Felix even said anything it was his “son” Edward who revealed the secret to me. On our second meeting, Felix himself admitted that he would not have told it to me this soon, he would have made things smoother even if I seemed to enjoy the vampire part. It was quite intriguing to him; how much I was fascinated by his fangs and the terrifying gleam his skin had in the sun, but it relieved him when I didn’t run away. When I did not pull back from his touch.

He had quite the reputation, my mate, and the Cullens, especially Edward and Alice made sure I was aware of it, how cruel and brutal he was, how he was not called the executioner for nothing. But it did not scare me, because I knew even if he was that, he wasn’t only that, my Felix was so much more! So I texted him every time I had the time, called him at night if he was available, we could stay on the phone for hours, even if his voice did not sound exactly the same it was still enough for me. All of this was rather easy to hide from the Cullens, Alice wasn’t really focused on Felix in Italy, rather on a decision of him visiting Forks, with what it would entails for Bella. Because if Aro trusted my fate in Felix’s hands, it was clearly not the same kind of trust placed in the Cullens. So like in Romeo and Juliet that Bella liked so much, Felix and I had to hide, the Cullens even managing to make me miss one of his visits thanks to Bella’s help. I was really bitter, they caught us chatting one time in Seattle and now were watching us even more closely. They would even check my home once in a while, pretending to pick up Bella that was oh so conveniently spending the afternoon at my place, to smell if there was trace of Felix’s scent. But I was his, and he would not give up on me that easily. In facts, he would not give up on me at all, he told me one night over the phone. And I’d learned that he was quite stubborn, my Felix, when he wanted something.

I had come home late from work, that night. The Cullens weren’t there, they were visiting the Denali Coven, and Bella was visiting Renée to celebrate Phil’s birthday. She felt guilty about having to give up her human life, so she tried to make everyone happy as much as she could. It was nice, to not have them on my back this week. I quickly prepared and ate dinner, and took a shower, putting on a more comfortable attire. I’ve always liked some fresh air in the house, so I tend to keep some windows open. I was doing some cleaning downstairs when I heard some noise from my bedroom. I thought that it was maybe the neighbor’s cat that came again through the window by climbing the tree, he already did it twice. I liked having him around, the little ball of black fur and soft meows, even if I liked it more when he would enter the house by the windows downstairs. I climbed the stairs, really to scold the kitty when I entered my room and realize it was not a black kitty that I would be scolding, but a hulking vampire.

“Felix! What are you doing here?!” “I was expecting a little more enthusiasm from you little love.”

“You’re lucky the Cullens aren’t in town! They don’t want me to see you! They’d try to fight you if they knew you were here, sneaking in my bedroom like that!”

« These Cullens, they are nothing for me. You shouldn’t worry about them tesorina. They should be the ones afraid to put themselves between us. As if those vegetarian vampires could defy me! I’d defy gods if I had to protect you.

"You’d defy the gods, only for me?”  I looked at you, so softly.

“Oh darling, but I would destroy the gods for you” Felix answered, oh so sure of himself. And he was strong, very strong my mate, I knew he’d win a fight even against a god. My handsome mate…

“I lost you, didn’t I?” Felix said, having recognized that look on my face. “No!” I looked very much embarrassed, he knew damn well how to tease me and get a reaction from me. It did not make me love him less… I could only love him more, my darling Felix, that currently had a smug smile on his face.

“So what do you suggest?” “We could ignore everything that isn’t us, and I could spend the night in your bed…” “Felix!” “You belong in my arms little one, nowhere else. And if anyone decides against it, they’ll see the true definition of anger…” Felix answered me, menaces laced in his tone, so sure of himself. He looked particularly imposing, hulking figure with the backlighting of my bedroom.

He fits so well here, my Felix, with the band posters hung on the walls, the shelves full of dark movies and alternative music, leather jacket reflecting the dim lights, his shiny silver rings on his big hands…

“You’re staring at my hands again, don’t you? Do you know how they could look better? With my fingers buried inside you, my hand glistening coated in your…” “Felix please! Not that I wouldn’t enjoy it but…“ Now I’m very embarrassed, and I’m sure it’s very visible.

My reaction makes him laugh, and it’s the most beautiful sound in the world, and it completely makes up for my embarrassment.

“I’m only teasing you amore mio. I know you said you wanted to wait, and I will respect your desire. Always. I’m up for anything with you as long as it’s within the boundaries you’ve set.”

Felix gets closer to me, slowly, and wraps his strong arms around me. He totally dwarfs me, and it’s no secret that we both are very into it, another proof that we were made for the other.

“Cuddles and metal?” “Cuddles and metal. But can you… take off your leather jacket please?” “Sure, if it makes my little darling happy…” With a smirk, he takes his time to remove his leather jacket, placing it on the back of my chair on top of mine. He’s only wearing an Iron Maiden tank top underneath, the logo a bit faded telling he’d own it for a while, that shows off all of his perfect muscles. Damn, to think that this man is all mine… He turns on the stereo, and then join me on the bed, the mattress digging with his heavy weight. He makes himself comfortable, setting up a few of my pillows behind his back, and then he opens his arms. I don’t need anything else, and nearly jump on him, making myself comfortable on his lap, his arms wrapping around my waist, pulling me closer against him. I softly trace the muscles on his arms, looking at the scars that cover his skin. Most were from his fights as a vampire, but he told me while that some were from his human life, being a gladiator must have been a nightmare for he was a slave without a choice in the matter.

“This song makes me think of you, now every time I hear it, I see your face.” Felix’s voice shake me out of those dark thoughts. I focus on the song, and recognize Wasp.

Her eyes reflect like the rain on the pavement I take control, she explodes, sink into her depths I'm the tremble in her voice when she attempts to speak Fixate on the frailty

“Motionless in White sure has good love songs. I must admit that every time I hear Wasp or Eternally Yours, I think of you.” It makes the both of us smile, the songs fitting us oh so perfectly, especially the lewd lyrics of Wasp. Felix has always been… quite explicit.

 So come to me No sense of restraint So come for me I will wait endlessly

I will break you carefully So take me harmfully You fit so perfect I will wait

I let my fingers trace the scars on his arms again, I know how fond of physical contact my Felix is. I must admit that I am too… He grabs the remote of my stereo, and lowers the sound of the music to a cozier one.

“Lost in the shadows?”   I giggle. “What’s wrong with the Lost Boys? It’s a good vampire movie. I’m still bitter at the fate of the boys… Besides, you’ve got the vibes” It makes him laugh, but we both know I’m not wrong. He’s kind of got the look and music taste, and some of the brutality when it comes to protecting whom he loves. And he would look very hot and sexy covered in blood too…

“You’re imagining me covered in blood, aren’t you?” “How do you even…” “I know you, little love” “Too much, you know me too much…” “I could never know too much about you, not even after a few decades, centuries, never.”

It makes me smile, and I curl up further in his embrace. It’s getting late.

“We should listen to something softer to help you sleep…” “First, I’m not even  dressed for bed yet, and second, ,what’s heavy about L’assasymphonie?” “It’s about a man who can’t sleep and is drowning in despair because of his demons. Not really the type of songs that put you to sleep.” “Do you realized I used to fall asleep blasting Maiden when I was younger?” “Yes, and now you enjoy softer songs before going to bed. This is much better, get in your night attire now.” Felix has changed the music to eyes without a face by Billy Idol, and I must admit it’s a good choice. This man knows me too well. I strip of my black jeans, and take off my shirt. I put on a Black Veil Brides tee, one that’s a size too big and go back to bed. I slip under the covers, and realize Felix had taken off a few layers too so I would be more comfortable. He brings me close to him, his arms wrapping around my waist once again, pressing me against his muscular body.

“Sleep now, tesorina. I’ll keep you safe.” Felix whisper in my ear. “Goodnight my love”, I whisper back. No matter what these idiots Cullens say, nothing will stop me from wanting this, fighting to get this, my Felix. I belong in his embrace and nowhere else.

[mushroompollution]

Absolution

On the other side of that door, they find themselves in the middle of a harrowing sight. Bodies all around. Screaming. Roaring flames. Air choked with smoke and ash. A hallway painted red with blood.

The Tragedy of Sablier.

Oz has seen this so many times now. But those were illusions, dreams, and memories.

This is different.

This is real.

Gilbert explains that though they really are in the past, they can't interact with anything there, or be seen by any of the poor victims. They make their way through the bloodied halls, trying their best not to think too much about the scene around them.

After all, there's nothing they can do for those people.

They just need to find Glen.

The jingle of a bell makes Oz gasp. Elliot is the only one who doesn't recognize that tell-tale sound of the Cheshire Cat. Oz breaks into a sprint, following that jingle, and the others follow.

They race through a doorway, and the sight causes a collective gasp as the group watches from a balcony. Below, Vincent seems somewhere far away, crying to himself as his Chain, Demios the Executioner, rampages above him.

They all watch in horror as Glen dodges attack after attack from her spiny blades, racing forward to drive that black-bladed sword straight through Vincent's chest.

Gilbert screams for his brother, but it's Oz who goes leaping from that balcony first, with Elliot right behind. Oz swings his scythe at Glen, and though he's easily countered, he buys some time for Vincent's brothers to rush to his side.

But as Gilbert puts a hand on his shoulder, Vincent shoves him away violently. He scrambles frantically to his feet, and away from the two trying to help.

"Don't touch me!!" he gasps. "Enough... I've had enough! Please!! I don't want to do this anymore!!"

"Vincent, calm down!!" Elliot cries.

"What's wrong with you?!" Gilbert begs. He sees a flash of light in the corner of his eye and shoves Elliot backwards as he leaps to tackle Vincent out of the way of a blast from Jabberwock as Glen and Oz's fight continues behind them.

Vincent reaches a hand out toward their fight, begging and pleading and crying for his Master to erase him.

As he cries, Gilbert looks down at his brother in shock.

Erase him...?

"Is that. What you've been trying to do all along?" Gilbert asks, grabbing his brother by the arm.

"Yes!!" Vincent wails. His voice sounds so desperate, hollow and empty. "That's the only way. If I hadn't opened that gate-- If I never existed-- Then Gil, you--"

"Don't be stupid!!" Gil shouts. "I thought I made it clear! If you alter the past, and erase the existence of my little brother, then I wouldn't be the big brother who protected you anymore!!"

But Vincent pulls away from him, scrambling to his feet again. "Shut up--!!"

"Maybe some other version of me would be happy, but that wouldn't be ME!! Just someone else who looks like me, but is that really what you want?! To protect a complete stranger?!"

But Gilbert is knocked back as Demios slashes the ground at his feet.

On the other side of the chamber, Glen sends Oz flying into a wall, where he sinks down, dazed.

"It's no use," Glen spits at the others as he approaches Oz. "Vincent has given up. No matter how many pretty words of encouragement you throw, to him, they're nothing but blades of rejection."

Gilbert gasps as he watches Glen approach the fallen Oz. He calls out for him, but there's no way he can get to his side in time.

But as Glen draws back his sword to end things, Alice throws herself between them.

Glen's starry eyes go wide. In that moment, it isn't Alice he sees standing there, but her mother. His sister.

Lacie.

He manages to stop his attack at the last second as Alice stares him down, unflinching. She orders him to lower his sword, but Glen can't move.

Seeing Alice in danger, the Cheshire Cat seems to appear from nowhere. He leaps high into the sky, which pulls Glen back to reality. He swings his blade at the Cat, but Cheshire easily avoids the blow. He dashes in, sweeping Alice off her feet, then retreats with her in his arms, though she kicks and yells for Oz.

Mostly recovered from the attack that had knocked the wind from him, Oz tries to run after them, only for Jabberwock to suddenly fill the air before him.

Glen can't waste time here anymore.

Gilbert throws himself at Vincent to protect him from the firey blast that fills the chamber. Elliot manages to jump into an adjacent room at the last second.

But as the smoke clears, Gilbert is horrified to watch Oz collapse. Panicked, he runs from Vincent's side, leaving his brother lying in a heap on the ground.

Of course.

All those nice words he had hurled at Vincent had meant nothing. In the end, he would always leave his brother's side for Oz, wouldn't he?

Vincent doesn't bother trying to get up. Maybe if he just lies there, they'll forget about him. Leave him there, to disappear into the past.

The sound of footsteps prove it won't be that easy. He opens his eyes, looking up to see Noise standing over him...

The sound of a gunshot rings out through the chamber. Blood bursts from Vincent's thigh.

Gilbert calls out for his brother, horrified to see Noise pointing a handgun at Vincent. But Demios appears before him and Oz, blocking his brother from his sight.

He can hear Vincent begging her to kill him. He sees Noise seeming to struggle, sees her left hand grabbing her right. She seems at war with herself, two souls fighting inside her as Vincent begs and begs to die.

"SHUT THE HELL UP!!!" Elliot's shout draws everyone's attention.

Despite all his ranting and raving about self-sacrifice, he runs straight at his brother, ignoring the rampaging Executioner. One blow from the Chain sends both him and Noise flying, but Elliot gets right back up. He wipes the blood from his chin, and steeles his blue eyes.

Vincent begs him to stop, but he refuses, marching through the flurry of Demios' uncontrollable rampage. As he draws closer, those blades slice through the air right at his throat.

He doesn't flinch.

At the last second, the echo of a promise brings the deadly attack to a halt.

"I know you killed my father! I know you killed Fred, and our uncle!" Elliot announces. Vincent stares up at him from the floor, wide-eyed. "But I killed Claude, and Ernest. And my own mother. We both have our reasons, and we could argue about them all day! But!! I've forgiven myself. I would be a goddamn hypocrite to not offer you a second chance too!!"

"Th-that's different--!! You were--"

"SHUT UP!!" Elliot roars. "It doesn't matter if I was controlled by Humpty Dumpty or not!! She's still gone because of me! And she was a SAINT!! Leo told me why you killed my father!! He told me about all the disgusting things that man had his hands in!!! He told me that YOU saved his life. My life. Gilbert's life!!!

Wasn't it YOU who told me to judge the world through my own eyes?!! Well I've seen what you've done, and who you are!!! And I've decided!!!! I can't forgive myself for what I did to our family until I've forgiven you too. You don't even have to apologize, because I've already made up my mind. I forgive you!!!!!"

Elliot drops to his knees before his panicked brother. He grabs Vincent by the collar, forcing him to look him in the eye. To see the sincerity in those blue skies.

Forgiveness?

Vincent had never wanted forgiveness. He had always thought the things he'd done could never warrant such a thought.

"You keep saying you have no future, and that's bullshit. You can ALWAYS start over!! If you really don't think our world can forgive you, then Leo and I can help you find another. There's an entire multiverse that's never heard the name Vincent Nightray before. And if you want to come home, then I know Leo would be happy to have you by his side.

So Vince, PLEASE!!!! Don't give up on me. Don't leave us like this. I've lost too many brothers already."

Not only could Elliot forgive him. But after all that, he could call an outsider like Vincent his own brother...

Demios disappears and Vincent sobs into his little brother's shoulder, a loud, childish wail as he realizes.

Maybe that was all he ever really wanted, was forgiveness.

[mjolnirswriststrap]

Executioner | Renaissance AU

Summary: Natasha is the king’s executioner. What plot? Just smut.

Natasha x f!reader

Warnings: 18+ only! Read at your own risk, panties definitely came off in this one, beheadings.

Masterlist

You knew you shouldn’t have been in that tavern after curfew. Some of the local women whispered about meeting to discuss steps to improve living conditions in your village. You thought it was worth trying. The king had no intentions on helping the starving women and children. The draft had taken every able bodied man, leaving your people devastated. None of you expected the kings men to burst in. You wouldn’t have gone if you knew what you’d be charged with.

You can’t see anything as burlap sack was roughly crammed onto your head. Desensitization wasn’t a new tactic, pigs for slaughter were treated this way. If you can’t see how close death is, you’re less likely to freak out. You stood there shackled to a girl on both sides of you, shaking in fear, using your last moments to pray. If you tilted your head just right you could see out of the bottom of the sack. A pool of red creeps towards your toes, and you hear the swing of a blade yet again. The only thing louder at the moment is the scream of the girl ahead of you, she knows she’s next. Your arm is jerked forward as the shackle is unlocked, separating you from the crying girl.

You close your eyes as you begin to pray, what king would do this to his people? You didn’t do anything wrong, the village only wants food and clothes for the winter. You knew why he didn’t favor your village; you didn’t export any goods. No crops, linen, or cattle were given to the castle. The women needed everything just to keep their children and elderly alive.

The blade makes contact with the wooden bench yet again, and you begin to shake. You won’t cry, you won’t let them have the satisfaction. They can take your life but they can’t have your soul. You had no reaction as the sack was pulled from your head. Your eyes squint to adjust to the sun. Standing in front of you is a tall man, so broad he shields you from the crowd of onlookers. He starts fiddling with your shackle and you look around him, seeing that you’re on a high wooden platform in the middle of the capital. Hundreds of subjects crowded around, waiting for the next beheading.

You catch a glimpse of red hair behind the man, but he jerks you forward before you can get a better look. You pad forward, and the crowds chatter becomes clearer “treasonous bitch!” “Witch” “this will teach you!” ”long live King Stark!”. You couldn’t help but to laugh out loud. They really thought the king cared for them. They could be on this chopping block next, they’re too deluded to see it. You start giggling louder, and louder and it draws the attention of the red haired woman.

“Don’t make this any harder than it has to be.” You tilt your head to the side and see a short woman, black robes covering her, a large hood pulled halfway up. “I am being prosecuted for being a woman. This is already harder than it has to be.”. How sick, the king making a woman execute other women. You looked into her eyes, knowing they’d be the last thing you ever saw. She was beautiful beyond measure, fair skin, full lips and large green eyes stared back at you. The woman is frozen in place, never having had a stand off with a person she was about to execute. You lean down, the blood of the innocent girl tickled your cheek. Closing your eyes you inhale the scent of rust and mud. Taking a deep breath you wait for your execution, unwavering.

It never comes, a loud explosion shakes town square. You’re thrown from the chopping block, landing on the hard dirt. Screams erupt and you feel feet trample over you. A large man steps right on the hand balancing you, causing you to scream out in pain. You coddle your sore fingers like a cat licking its wounds. You crawl under the wooden structure used as a stage. Hiding from the crowd who were willingly going to chop your head off moments earlier. You look up between the cracks and see the red head woman scanning the crowd, searching for you. “Tell the kings guard she’s gone. The explosion gave her cover for escape.” She whispers to a man in all metal armor.

The crowd has finally dispersed and all you can hear is the dripping of blood, the woman’s deep sighs as she paces the platform above you. You’re too scared to make a sound, knowing your cover could be blown at any moment. You feel a tickle at the edge of your hairline, you quickly swipe at what’s bothering you. A spider crawls up your hand causing you to wince, shaking it off. Your eyes dart upward, in hopes she didn’t notice. Except you can’t see her anywhere between the cracks. You lean forward to get a better advantage point and still, the platform is void of any person. Sitting back down on your feet you take a deep breath, maybe you’re finally in the clear.

A blade is pressed to your neck before you can exhale. A hand snakes its way around your waist, traveling upward along your front, securing your arm and neck in a tight lock. “Thought you could escape?” She breathes in your ear. Your heartbeat fastens, “Please, you don’t understand, I’m innocent. I’ve done nothing wrong.” You plead as she tightens her grip on you. “That’s what they all say. But not everyone was found gathered under a full moon, whispering about a kings downfall.” You furrow your brow, full moon? You’d never gathered with anyone under a full moon, you were no witch.

She pushes you forward, your face hitting the ground, billowing up a cloud of dirt. “You’re mistaken miss, we met to discuss rations, create a plan on how to survive the winter, I would never knowingly gather under a full moon.” You wiggle as she straddles your ass, pushing against her as she shackles your hands behind your back. “I thought I was being executed for conspiracy not witchcraft.” You writhe more underneath her, grasping her wrist, you hold her there as you plead for her mercy. “Please, I am not what you think. I’ll go far away, you’ll never see or hear of me again. I’ll never return. I swear it upon the Lord.”

The woman stares at her wrist in your hand. Your words completely muffled to her. She looks at your rode up gown, lace garters around each of your legs. She pulls herself away, kneeling beside you. You start shaking in fear of what is to come next. She places a hand on the back of your thigh, slowly feeling her way to between your legs. “If you want me to let you go free, you’re going to have to earn it, witch.” The woman laughs to herself. You squeeze your eyes shut as you realize what she means. “What do you want from me?” You cry out. The woman flips you over onto your back, she leans down looking you right in the eye.

“Make it worth my while, and I’ll escort you to the city limits myself.” She smirked on top of you. You look into her eyes, she was too beautiful to be this wicked. Something happened to make her this way, you’d never know. Your survival instincts kicked in before you could protest. Pressing your lips to hers you eagerly run your tongue against her bottom lip. She takes the opportunity to feel your breast, massaging them behind thick dress linen. You pull away as a strange feeling builds inside of you, you’d never been with a woman so you didn’t think you’d get anything out of this. But the feeling of her hands on you, ignited a flame deep inside, causing a throb to wreck your clit.

“You like that?” She asks with hooded eyes, pinching your nipples in the process. You sharply gasp, the feeling of wetness pooling between your thighs. Your back arches off the ground as she slips her hand under your dress, the feeling of her hand on your bare skin, burning. She feels her way up to your right nipple, pinching it unbearably hard, you yelp. “Answer me, witch.” She says. “Yes, ms?”

“Natasha, not that it matters.”.

Natasha lifts herself to her knees, looking down at you, your dress pulled up, thrown over your shoulder as your chest is exposed. “So pathetic, begging to run away like that. So small underneath this thick fabric,” she places a finger on your navel, drawing a line down, running it between the folds surrounding your clit; stopping when the tip of her finger slips inside of you. “So wet, and I’ve barely touched you”.

You bite your lip so hard you taste blood, you couldn’t help it as she gently stroked her finger in and out of you. You raise your hips off the ground practically begging for more, “Please Natasha, I’ll do anything, just uncuff me.”. The red head throws her head back laughing while she adds another digit, going deeper than before “I don’t need to do that to get what I want.” You press your head into the ground as you adjust to her thick fingers, the burning stretch and the slow pace causing your legs to shake, a wet soothing feeling stopped the shaking as soon as it began, you looked down to see Natasha staring up at you, her tongue moving in slow circles around your clit. “Don’t stop.” You plead.

As if she was getting off on torturing you, she stopped instantly, pulling her hand from you. “I don’t want you getting the wrong idea,” Natasha says, pulling her black robe over her head. “This isn’t for your pleasure, it’s for mine.” She says, freeing the ties around her waist. Her undercoat falls down, exposing a hairless pussy. She throws one leg over your waist, diagonally straddling you. “I had to make you want it, no one wants to ride a sleeping bull.”. She spreads her lips, pressing herself into you, the feeling completely foreign, everything she’d done up till now, a man already had the privilege of doing before.

Natasha rolls her hips, perfectly gliding against your clit. It felt like a warm kiss, wet and desperate. You whine, wishing you could touch her, hold onto something for leverage. You couldn’t move as she fucked you, you’re completely helpless besides being able to wrap a leg around her waist. It did nothing to move you, it only made her grind harder against you.

A strangled moan leaves your lips as she starts rocking against you with a new pace, it was gonna make you cum if she kept going. A rubber band inside of you was being stretched past its limit and was about to snap back. At this point you thought, she has to be reading your mind. She slowed down, throwing her head back as she barely lifted herself, just to slam herself back down. She did this over and over again till you were sore, you needed release.

Natasha wasn’t thinking about your release as she crawled up your body, sitting on your chest. “If you make me feel real, real good. I’ll even get you to the next town, deal?” You nod your head before thinking. She quickly grabs a handful of your hair, “What did I say? Speak when spoken to, witch.” “Deal.”

She strokes your face, admiring your features before she makes a mess of them. Soft eyes search hers for answers, but nothing would prepare you for how gentle she was. Natasha lifted her hips, ghosting her center past your lips, causing you to crane your neck to reach for her. She was practically dripping into your mouth as you reached your tongue to take a practice swipe. She was so soft, like rose petals that tasted like ‘more’; you wanted more.

You tilt your chin forward latching your lips around her core, creating a suction while your rolled her clit around the tip of your tongue. “Fuck yes, keep doing that.” Natasha praises you from above. She miraculously keeps herself still, not abusing your face like she did your bottom half. You liked the way she sounded, light and raspy, searching for a breath. It kept you going while you explored her every inch. You lapped up wetness as it dripped from her hole, rimming the hole with the tip of your tongue.

Her body reacted the best to your flat tongue, licking long thick stripes over her clit. It made Natasha jerk her body forward, causing your nose to stimulate her even more. “You’re doing so good baby, just a little longer.” You couldn’t help but use the praise as fuel to keep going. The sight of Natasha writhing in pleasure makes you needy. You feverishly rub her clit as you breathe hot breath onto her.

Natasha grips your hair as she finally takes hold of the situation, she grinds her hips down, fully pressing herself on your tongue. You can’t keep up as she tries to climax. Her hips going at a pace your jaw isn’t accustomed to. You close your eyes as you feel her jerk forward, slowing herself down, she writhes on your face.

You gasp for air as she stands, throwing her robe back over her head. You lift yourself to your knees, letting gravity pull your dress down. You do nothing but await your release from the chains that bind you. You did what she asked, you just wanted to be freed, you needed no escort to the edge of town or the next village. “Please, uncuff me now, Natasha?” She gave you a pitiful look as she tied the straps to her undergarments.

“Oh honey, did you really think I was gonna let you go free?” She walked towards you, bending over to match your eye line. “You’re dead as far as the king knows, a crowd never lets a criminal get away. You just got lucky with the explosion.” Confusion clouded your brain, what was she going to do, if not turn you in? “What?” You say, knowing whatever she had in mind was better than execution.

“You’re coming home with me, witch.”

[ardenssolis]

@ouroborius said (inbox):

Oh, what was that? A tug? That was strange... oh, wait- another tug? Weird- and another one! If Ozymandias would look at the source of the tugging, it would be from a strange black shadow that had reached up to bat at one of the loose decorations adoring the Pharaoh's clothes. The shadow, upon inspection, seems to be a cat! He looks up at Ozymandias with a small blink, and then goes back to playfully batting at the dangling decoration he had been pestering seconds before. - Sanson's cat, Tobias, has approached the Pharaoh!

OZYMANDIAS BLINKED, GLANCING DOWN curiously after the third tug to his pants. His thoughts automatically went towards one of the sphinx cubs wanting his attention, but what greeted him was not those galaxy furred feline, but instead, one that he hadn’t seen for some time now. Wasn’t this cat, Sanson’s? Did that also mean the Executioner was present within the building again? It would be a lie to say that Ozymandias had not missed the Assassin, although it wasn’t as if he was in the business of admitting such things. Smiling, he bent down so he wasn’t towering over them, a hand held out for the cat to sniff before he dared reach out to brush his gloved fingers through that beautiful fur. ❝It is good to see you again, Tobias. You seem to be just as energetic and curious as I recall.❞ They were not rambunctious like the cubs, to be expected as they were not as young as them, however, he could remember the days they would peer at him with those wide eyes from behind various objects in the building.

     The thought amused him.

     He couldn’t help but laugh softly.

[blackskorpi0n]

—OC QUESTIONNAIRE tysm @sikoi for the tag ♡♡♡

NAME: Nadia Solovyova

NICKNAME: Nads, Executioner/Палач, Black Death

GENDER: she/they/ sometimes him

STAR SIGN: Scorpio

HEIGHT: 5'10'

ORIENTATION: bisexy

NATIONALITY/ETHNICITY: Afro-Cuban, grew up in Russia

FAVORITE FRUIT: anything citrus

FAVORITE SEASON: Winter

FAVORITE FLOWER: Tiger lillies

FAVORITE SCENT:  Anything that's wooden or leather

COFFEE, TEA, or HOT CHOCOLATE: All of them but she does like a good ginger tea

AVERAGE HOURS OF SLEEP: 4 to 6 :///

DOGS or CATS: She has both as pets, a pitbull and a black cat

DREAM TRIP: she has been everywhere

NUMBER OF BLANKETS: 4, she has various blankets all over the house

RANDOM FACT: She used to do ballet in her childhood, so sometimes she would go to the dance studio and do ballet as a pastime

tagging: (no pressure ♡@phasebun @koibish @veone @birdietrait @rottengurlz @yngblkarawak @skaterboisims @simmingonthelow @salemsimss @saturngalore @pozerjacket and anyone else)

[rediscovering-webkinz]

My Webkinz

Plushies + info

sadly, this collection will be split up into a few reblogs

LICORICE - He's a boy stormy dragon and my blog's mascot! He's extremely adventurous and very curious about the world around him!

CHERRY - She's a girl pink poodle and my first ever Webkinz. She's missing an eye and has a few injuries but she's a tough little gal! She loves everything in pink, obviously, and is quite the girly girl.

OREO - A girl black and white cat who sees the world in black and white. She's quite fussy and a bit much at times, but her friends love her all the same! Another of the few childhood Webkinz I could afford to hold onto.

SNOWBALL - A girl Persian cat. The last of my childhood Webkinz, sadly :( While you might think Snowball would be a refined and sophisticated young lady, she's quite the opposite! Always rough and tumble and looking to get up to something.

CASSANDRA - Notably, a girl lioness. She's named after one of my OCs, like many of my Webkinz, and is therefore really just the Webkinz version of her. A little sadistic, a little aloof, she's really got it all. She's also in a relationship with Exe and Kieran! (See below, or something)

ETHAN - A boy googles. Lil' 'Kinz, to be exact. Also named after my OC. He's aspiring to be a doctor, though a bit difficult now that every illness has been cured in Webkinz World, and is a huge nerd for aliens! He's dating Tanner (see below)

DAHLIA - A girl rabbit, another OC named Webkinz, and this time she's trans! While Dahlia might be a bit cocky when you first meet her, deep down she's a very sweet girl and despite having a loving family and girlfriend sometimes still feels very lonely after a very rough life. She's dating Marcie (see below)

MARCIE - A girl hippo, this time named after my dear friend's OC, another trans gal! Marcie loves ballet and everything pink, and while sometimes she worries she's not "girly" enough to get to like those things she always has Dahlia to remind her she's allowed to live however she pleases. She's also quite the artist!

KIERAN - A boy reindeer, once again named after a friend's OC. A bit of a masochist, a bit of a mystery. He isn't very sociable but he does enjoy the company of his partners, Cassandra and Exe (see above and below)

EXE - A boy opossum, once again an OC named Webkinz, this one mine! Exe is short for Executioner! A sadomasochist and absolute wife guy, he'd do pretty much anything for Cassandra. While he does enjoy Kieran being around, he really could care less if he was gone.

BILLY - A boy leopard, finally we're out of the OC named Webkinz hole... For now... Billy wears pants because he is very fashionable, he's also a drama queen, and likes guys. That last one isn't very important though, because he can't find a boyfriend anyways.

WREN - A girl lamb, this little gal is named after my girlfriend, because she's also cute and lovable :) Just an absolutely sweetheart who wants the best for the people she cares about.

POPSICLE - A boy icy mist leopard, named by my lovely girlfriend. He's quite the old soul and is always looking to give people a little of his wisdom, even if they aren't looking for it. He loves cuddling up in a nice fluffy blanket and sitting in front of a nice warm fire at night.

ROSALINE - A girl Siamese cat. Rosaline is quite the fancy little creature, she likes only the finest furniture, foods, and clothes will not settle for less. Her taste in art is immaculate and she does happen to adore Marcie's works.

JUDAS - A boy Himalayan cat. A messy little guy, Judas has quite the bad habit of leaving chaos everywhere he goes. He loves the cold and is always excited when it snows, especially when it's deep enough to make snowmen and snow angels!

RUTH - A girl duck, named after my main OC's own pet duck! Ruth is an absolute sweetheart who's always there to lend to hand to those who need it. She's quite the welcoming person and will always try to make your day a little better!

ELIJAH - A boy endangered cougar, named after my girlfriend's main OC. He's a big fan of parties, staying out late, and getting wasted, though the others prefer that he Not. He always believes life should be lived the fullest and by god is he going to live.

BINX - A boy signature penguin, named by my girlfriend. He's a very strict and stern individual, though he thinks he has to be to set a good example for his little brother, Bongo (see below)

BONGO - A boy penguin. He's Binx's little brother and a bit of a nerd at that. He loves to have his beak in a book reading about any and everything he can!

MIPSY - A girl clover cat. She loves nature, the color green, and having lots and lots of money! Gardening isn't cheap or easy, after all, and by golly does she love to garden! This little gal has quite the green thumb and is very proud of it.

SNUGGLES - A boy whimsy dragon, named by my friend. As a whimsy dragon, Snuggles is quite the whimsical little guy. He loves stained glass everything, sweet treats, and flying through the clouds! You might even see him trying to make friends with the birds, though that never really works out for him.

PENNY - A girl black cat. Penny is a lover of sweaters, Halloween, and warm hugs! She absolutely loves pumpkin pie and is always itching to get dressed up in fun little costumes!

MARSHALL - A boy midnight monster. Marshall is a softie, sure, but that's only because he's a hardened veteran who's seen the horrors of war and wishes to only instill kindness onto this world ever since. He's a righteous man who does his best to do the right thing, even when it's difficult.

CERBERUS - A boy black poodle, named by my friend. Another diva, really, and he's not afraid to walk around with his nose in the air to prove it. He's always got to hop on the hottest new trend and the moment it's over he's sure to let you know that what you're wearing is sooo last Thursday.

PRISCILLA - A girl golden pegasus. Priscilla is quite soft spoken and easily blends into the background if you aren't looking for her, despite her eye catching appearance. She doesn't like being the center of attention, and she'll absolutely cry if you try to make her it.

BURTON - A boy gorilla. Burton is another old soul, though maybe this time he really is old. No one's certain, since gorillas don't exactly show their age, especially when they're stuffed! He prefers being by himself, though sometimes the company of others is nice... Only when he wants it, though.

TRANSVAAL - A boy lion, named by my friend. A bit of a dope, Transvaal means no harm to anyone, and really without someone there to get him his food, he's pretty much a vegetarian since it's easier than getting meat... Most of the time.

DANTE - A boy black stallion. Dante is a racer, and he will win every time, even if he has to cheat or use underhanded tricks to get the gold. To him, second place is just first loser. It's either first or nothing.

RICCO - A boy raccoon, named by my girlfriend. A little trash panda, and Ricco lives by that name. Lazy as he can be and quite the little heathen who'll dig through trash any day of the week. At least he washes himself quite often as he hates smelling like garbage more than smelling it.

TANNER - A boy velvet elephant, named after an OC once more. Tanner is a massive nerd for fitness and looking tough and loves to show off how strong he is. He's also a massive softie for his sweet little nerdy boyfriend, Ethan, and would do anything to protect him. Dahlia is his beloved cousin who he helped raise. Try not to think about their family tree.

[maverickscorner]

Faber suae fortunae

Or (Quintus and) Maider's love story towards freedom.

Warning! Some heavy themes mentioned below!

Chapter 16 - Prelude

Tenax

I’m about to face the hardest day of my life, and the only thing I can think of is that I won’t see it clearly, and therefore I won’t be able to fully control it.

I’m an idiot. I won’t be able to control it at all.

To hell with the blurred vision from the black eye and all the beatings I’ve taken. Tomorrow Maider, my Maider, will be in the Flavian Amphitheater, risking her life in front of fucking lions.

And I won’t be able to do anything but watch.

This is killing me.

Sometimes the anxiety and worry choke me, cutting off my breath, along with my cracked ribs.

The guilt is overwhelming. I wish they’d kill me, if it only meant letting Maider go.

But I fear that with me dead, Domitian would no longer have anything to play with.

I should hate him, but instead, I also hate myself.

For my appearance, among the other things. Because that’s what has determined my fate since I was a child. That decided I should be abused. My blue eyes have only attracted cruel, unscrupulous men.

I’ve always known I was more attractive than average, for better or worse. And since I escaped that pervert of a master, I’ve tried to hide it in every way possible. I remember being fifteen, looking at myself in a bucket of water, and smearing dirt on my face to hide it.

As I grew older, I stopped doing that. But I kept hiding my appearance, my body. I had a lot of money, yet I dressed in poor clothes, made of plain cloth. All the same color, the same fabric. I was Tenax, but I still had Quintus’ fragility.

I hate myself for my cynicism, for the ambition that made me hard and violent.

I hated Quintus for so long that I forgot his strength. And the fact that I was him, in the end.

But Maider…

Maider made me remember.

Little by little, day by day, she managed to break down the wall I had built around myself.

To make peace with my essence. With my childhood self.

God, how I love her.

I found myself again, thanks to her.

For once, I wasn’t the one leading, but I let myself be led.

Led by a girl strong but also fragile, determined but also uncertain, with courage to spare and unmatched sweetness.

A girl who looked into my eyes and chose to love me, instead of taking advantage of me.

And it was the best gift anyone has ever given me.

It must be time. The sun filters through the grates of my cell. They’re coming to take me to the arena. I imagine they’ll wash me as best they can, bandage my back, and put some piece of cloth on me.

The soldiers enter the cell in large numbers. They free me from the chains, and I fall back: my arms are numb and my wrists are raw and chafed. They mock me, one of them spits on me. I want to respond, but I’m too weak. They grab me by the arms and drag me away. In the corridor, I strain to see if I can catch sight of Maider on the other side.

The guards are dragging her out of the cell: her wrists are bound.

I gather all the energy I have.

—Maider!— I shout, struggling, my voice hoarse.

She hears my voice and sees me.

—Tenax!

—Don’t worry, everything's going to be fine! I love you!

She’s crying. She’s terrified, but she nods.

—I love you too! Come back to me!

I nod.

If the gods dare send me to the underworld today, I swear I’ll kill them one by one and then come back up.

***

Maider

I hate lions.

Don’t get me wrong, I love animals.

Dogs, cats, chickens, sheeps, and horses.

But I’ve never seen lions, and they terrify me.

And the fact that the emperor himself has chosen them as the executioners of my death sentence makes my legs tremble.

It makes my whole body tremble, to be honest.

I know I should be brave. For me and for Quintus. But I’m not, I’m dying of fear.

My stomach twists inside itself, the abdominal cramps take my breath away. And then the panic, the dull panic tightens my lungs and throat. I can’t breathe.

Then I think of Quintus.

He’s not far from me, naked, his body bruised and bloodied. As soon as I saw him, I felt nausea rise and my heart stop. All those bruises, cuts, and the whip marks… I clench my fists.

Rage is a faithful companion.

Quintus has protected me since the first day he saw me. I’ve never had anything here in Rome, but in my mind, I’ve always thought I still had him. My protector, my confidant, my accomplice.

The man I love.

Yes, the man I love is chained a few cells away from me, and I can’t even get close and hold him in my arms. I want to speak to him, but the Praetorians wouldn’t take it well: I decide to remain silent.

I know Quintus is strong and determined, but also vulnerable. I know he’s just as scared as I am.

And so I have to be strong too. We must try to protect each other, and that won’t happen if I keep feeling sorry for myself.

Quintus has always protected me. Now I’ll protect him too.

Cala’s plan is for that too. If I play my part well, maybe we'll have a chance.

The Praetorians come down to the dungeons.

It’s time.

I imagine they need to prepare me for the games.

I’m terrified, but I clench my fists until my flesh breaks. I have to be strong.

For Quintus. But also for me, for Cala, Nica, Aura, Claudia, the children.

For all of them.

The Praetorians stop at Quintus’ cell. Some come towards mine. They mock me, jeering that I’ll soon be lion food. They open the cell, tie my wrists, and release the chain that was around my ankle.

When they take me out, I hear Quintus call my name.

—Maider!— he shouts. His voice is hoarse and weak.

I see him, and tears well up in my eyes. I hate seeing him suffer.

—Tenax!

—Don’t worry, everything's going to be fine! I love you!— he says as they push him away.

I can’t hold back a sob, but I shout:

—I love you too! Come back to me!

I see him nod firmly. I see the fire burning in his eyes.

I pull myself together and straighten my back.

If I’m sure of one thing, it’s that Rome won’t have us today.

We are the makers of our own destiny.

We are fabri suae fortunae.

***

Hi! It's Eli. The games are about to begin, brace yourself ❤️

Leave a comment if you liked this short chapter. Thank you so much, I love you all ❤️

[archivist-crow]

Johannes Cuntius (Pentsch Vampire - c. 1580) - Silesian vampire who behaved like a poltergeist and incubus.

The case was recorded by Henry More in An Antidote Against Atheism (1653).

Johannes Cuntius was an alderman who, at age 60, was kicked by one of his horses. He fell ill. Upon his deathbed, he proclaimed that his sins were too grievous to be pardoned by God, and that he had made a pact with the devil. When he died, his eldest son observed a black cat run to his body and violently scratch his face. A great tempest arose and did not subside until he was buried. Friends of Cuntius prevailed in persuading the local church to bury him on the right side of the altar, an exceptionally hallowed spot.

Cuntius was dead only one or two days when rumors circulated around the village that an incubus in his form was forcing itself upon women. Sexual molestations continued after burial, as well as poltergeistlike disturbances. Trampling noises resounded throughout his house at night, so severe that the entire house shook. Objects were flung about. Sleeping persons were beaten. Dogs barked all over town. Strange footprints, unknown to man or beast, appeared around the house.

The list of more disturbances was long. The Cuntius specter demanded conjugal rights with his widow and molested other women. It strangled old men, galloped around the house like a horse, wrestled with people, vomited fire, spotted the church's altar cloth with blood, bashed the heads of dogs against the ground, turned milk into blood, drank up supplies of milk, sucked cows dry, threw goats about, devoured chickens, and pulled up fence posts. Terrible smells and the sensation of foul, icy breath permeated the Cuntius house.

Signs of vampirism were visible around the grave: Mouse-size holes were found going all the way down to the coffin. If they were filled, they reappeared. The villagers at last had the body of Cuntius dug up. According to Montague Summers in The Vampire in Europe:

His Skin was tender and florid, his Joynts not at all stiff, but limber and moveable, and a staff being put into his hand, he grasped it with His fingers very fast; his eyes also of themselves would be one time open, and another time shut; they opened a vein in his Leg, and the blood sprang out as fresh as in the living; his Nose was entire and full, not sharp, as in those that are ghastly sick, or quite dead: and yet Cuntius his body had lien [sic] in the grave from Feb. 8 to July 20 which is almost half a year. ...

His body, when it was brought to the fire, proved as unwilling to be burnt, as before to be drawn; so that the Executioner was fain with hooks to pull him out, and cut him into pieces to make him burn. Which, while he did, the blood was found so pure and spiritous, that it spurted into his face as he cut him; but at last, not without the expense of two hundred and fifteen great billets, all was turned into ashes. Which they carefully sweeping up together... and casting them into the River, the Spectre never more appeared.

Text from The Encyclopedia of Vampires, Werewolves, and Other Monsters (Checkmark Books, 2005) by Rosemary Guiley

[neonblessing]

9.

⚠️ SPOILER ALERT! ⚠️ Click here to read Neon Blessing from the beginning!

“Look, you don’t have to give me a map. Just point me in the right direction.”

“Shiv, kid, I get it. You want revenge. But-”

“I don’t want revenge,” she said. She wasn’t certain if it was a lie.

“Then what do you want?”

“Answers.” Hell, she didn’t even know the finer points of what the two of them had stolen. The house had been full of valuable art, they’d passed a poorly-hidden wall safe on the way to the owner’s office, and they ignored it all in favor of the data drive that had sat atop a messy stack of papers. Ornarch hadn’t told them what was on there, just that it would go for a hundred thousand credits at a minimum, or a million from the right buyer. Most drives its size were just something convenient to hold, with the data itself stored on a chip a few nanometers thick. Whatever was on that drive had been complex enough that the whole damn drive was dedicated to memory. A sphinx glinted darkly on its surface, mirror finish set into matte black. There was something captivating about its sheer scale and the precision of its construction. Something a little sinister, too. Then he had shown up, and the rest of the night was a blurry nightmare of burning, screaming, and blood.

Kooler pursed his lips. “And once you have those answers, what are you going to do?”

“My job. Ornarch wants me to-”

Kooler’s eyes narrowed, and he tilted his head. “Isn’t your job breaking and entering? At least, I think that’s what you told me the first time we met. Forgive an old man’s memory for its failings, but I think I would have remembered hearing a teenager call themself an executioner.” He suddenly sounded very old, and very tired.

“Maybe I’ve changed. Why do you care?” It came out a little colder than she’d intended it to.

“Sorry, sorry. You’re right. None of my business.”

“So you won’t help me?”

“Staying neutral is how I stay alive. Everyone knows old Kooler keeps his mouth shut.”

“That’s a no?” Her heart sank. She’d known it was a long shot, but even still, Kooler was the closest thing she had to a lead.

Whatever he saw in her face gave him pause. “I… offered them ten thousand for the drive. I don’t even have half the hardware it would take to decrypt that… monster. I told them I wasn’t paying a credit more than that for a piece of software I couldn’t validate, no matter what rumors I’d heard. They took their business elsewhere. I don’t know where.”

“Rumors?”

“Have you been online since you stole it?” She hadn’t. “Half of the criminals in the Diluvian District are hunting after that sphinx drive. It’s anyone’s guess what’s on there, but Ebrelurge put a bounty out on it and then a few gang bosses joined the bidding war. As of this morning, the best offer is 1.6 million.”

Lord of birds. One point six fucking million?

He went on. “I don’t know where they went, but I know someone who might. Don’t go telling everyone I lent you a hand, but you’re- you’re a good kid. Just- hear them out when you see them. Don’t rush headlong into being a killer.”

“Yeah.”

Kooler pushed off the counter, sending his chair on a practiced arc towards a shelf of folders in one corner of the shop. He returned bearing a business card, a thin sheet of crisp white plastic stock with “Club RED – 1191-3962” embossed on it in brilliant crimson. The back side of the card was decorated with a staring eye in the same shade. “Kurtz–the owner of Club RED–knows me, and she’s got a panopt. Ask to see Odie. If it can’t help you, no one can.”

Shiv grinned. “Thanks, Kooler.”

“I’d say ‘any time,’ but really I’d rather not stick my neck out again.”

“With any luck, you won’t have to!”

The door squealed as she left.

First Page – Previous Page – Next Page

[life-winners-liveblog]

*taps mic* Hello? Can you hear me? (Except Martyn lol imagine going from the best listener to someone who is deaf)

Hi I just got here and am being very entertained by you guys

Gri I would try to help you work through your trauma but all efforts have been futile so far so instead take this leather jacket and sunglasses (to match timmy!), a sun holographic picture, as well as these cookies 🍪 (<- those are cookies shortbread is a biscuit)

Scott, be careful try not to burn yourself out, take these paints and easels, (fake) coral jewellery, a star/night sky holographic picture, and some poppies

Pearl, I would give you something, but someone is very mean and won't let me, so I'm sending you some sunflowers, a puppy and some bones, a moon holographic picture, and a clock

*If possible, I yank on Martyn's hair* *a note then appears with the following writing* Martyn, I don’t even care about the fact that you betrayed your Scott, it made sense for you, was a good ending moment and he didn't even mind (was probably his favourite version of events that could have happened). No, I'm mad at you because of how apathetic you are. I'm sorry that you find it "easy" to move on, but others feeling emotions about their past is not weak. It's human. You are quite literally my second-least favourite person and the other person has the same illness as you but worse. You get a pufferfish, a (toy) axe, a cake, and a holographic picture that seems to change images. Sometimes it shows the sea, sometimes it shows trees, sometimes Mars, sometimes a meteor, sometimes a black hole (ooc: etc etc just all the different Martyn winner interpretations lol I'm not writing all of them)

Jim-jam! Nice to see you! You get poppies, a wooden doll, a frog and bucket, and a holographic picture of a canary

Scar! It's been a while since anyone has sent you anything buddy so you get 3 more llamas, 15 more camels, 19 more pandas and 81 more jellie cats. Oh and a holographic picture of cacti

DL!Scott you fucker you are my least favourite you apathetic son of a bitch. You get the poison effect

SL!Jimmy you get cake for being the in-between person, as well as a ghost plushie and a holographic picture of a doggo (if you look closely there's a canary)

To the rest of the losers, I'll give them some weighted blankets. One for everyone :)

-Saph <3

LimL!Jimmy: This is still not Judge Judy and Executioner... But thank you...

~~~~~~

Grian: ugh... I don't know how other me can confortably wear this all day.

LimL!Jimmy: Grian why are you dressed like me?!?! Do this mean you want to join the Bad Boys??

Grian: Uhhhhh... not really? The whispers -

LimL!Jimmy: Why not?!? You could be an honorary Bad Boy!!!

Grian: ... Fine, whatever.

LimL!Jimmy: Yeah yeah yeah!

~~~~~

Pearl: Ooooh nice! Let's see, how does this holographic thing work?

Scott: Oh they sent me one of those as well! I think... you do it like... this!

Pearl: Mansplaining moment.

Scott: What!?!? I was just... you asked...and I...

Pearl: Calm down Scott, it was just a joke... why are you so jittery.

Scott: ...Maybe the whispers are right, I do need to relax a little.

~~~~~

Martyn: Well screw you too I guess, that hurt... and I never said that feeling about the past is weak, what I find weak is letting said emotions submerge you completely like Grian does, now I have seen how he was, I saw his passion but when I look at him now I see none of that, he is not weak because he misses Scar, who cares about that, he is weak because he wallows in his own self pity and misery constantly... He couldn't have done anything differently and he can't go back to change anything so why does he insist on acting like a wet wipe.

[mittensit]

Black Sulfur followers

just wanted to talk about some of the followers in my Black Sulfur AU!

So basically the hierarchy is-

Lamb Narinder - Jamar Disciples Healers - Missionaries -Witnesses Followers

Jamar: a tall, dark gray horse with brown eyes that's well liked by the Cult and the children adore him, as he's very good with them. He was saved by Lamb in Anchordeep, as the horse had been traveling through there for reasons he gently refused to explain. Extremely loyal to Lamb, but he's not a disciple as he claims he's undeserving of the halo, they had gotten stuck in Darkwood for several days. They rushed back to the Cult expecting to find it in shambles, only to discover that Jamar had taken control of the situation and kept it running smoothly. Since then he's taken on more responsibilities and tends to the Cult when Lamb is absent. While calm and smart, he does quarrel very often with Hoty. (Cultists gossip that it might be sexual tension but who knows nyohoho)

Hoty: an average sized, tan dog with brown eyes who is a mutt. Lamb's first follower, rescued in Darkwood from Leshy's followers. He became more devoted as time went by, and was made their first disciple. He tends to the flock to make sure everything is good, and deals with dissenters. He also trains new disciples. While attentative he does tend to fidget and move around a lot. Eventually he'll retire, leaving head disciplehood to another. Until then, he'll be around and tormenting Jamar by sassing him.

Anbre: a talented healer who is a tall, black stag with red eyes, an impressive rack with golden chains draped on them. He has sharp teeth, his unusual height and appearance the result of being born from a former Guardian (his father) and a Blood Guardian (his mother). Helped support Narinder while he relearned how to walk. While not necesarily having worshipped Heket, he had been in her Cult due to his parents being devoted to her. Was recruited by Lamb upon finding Anbre in a raided village attempting to save the inhabitants. Unfortunately none survived. Originally single, after Meryen joined the Cult he took an interest in her, and after several years of courting her, eventually marries her. Tragically it wasn't a long marriage, he passes away five years later due to having a weakened heart- an effect that happens to the offspring of former Guardians (had his parents had him while they still Guardians he would have had a long lifespan). He had informed Lamb to not revive him.

Meryen: a she-cat healer. Silver-blue fur and blue eyes. She's of medium height. Bounced from one Bishop cult to another as a traveling healer. She hated working for the Old Faith, but due to her Mother's insitance she stayed with the Old Faith until Lamb came upon her, having broken a leg and a wrist from being attacked by bandits in Anura. When Lamb found her she eagerly went with them, despite having a distaste for religion. Nursed Narinder back to full health and acts as a motherly figure toward him despite her dislike to children. She cares for him deeply and was beyond distraught when he killed himself out of spite, having trauma due to her witnessing her own father end his life (he could no longer handle being an executioner for the Old Faith). [He did execute Lambs and it haunted him.] Tends to smother him when she feels he's pushing himself too hard. Was in a depressive state after Anbre passes. She slowly recovers but it did take a toll on her body, shes weaker in the legs and hips, so she starts walking with a cane and in turn is smothered by Narinder.

Seren: a yellow, trans she-cat. She has light yellow tabby markings and a bad scar running down her face and across her left eye from fightinf during her travels. Wasn't born into the Cult nor was she a heretic- instead a traveler who roamed the island after her family and village, which was on the outskirts of Anura, was raided and destroyed by Heket's Cult. She dislikes religion, but when Lamb offered her a stable place to live, she jumped at the chance and was determined to become a disciple so that she could go through a magic change to her body. Has and will kill again, a talented fighter who lives for fighting. Happened to miss all of the Bishops being revived [she was on missions to prove her worth] and Lamb brainwashing their followers into believing the Bishops are just normal folks. She was confused and baffled to see the Bishops roaming around, and even more bewildered when the normal followers insisted that they were normal, but weird, animals. Took a liking to Leshy.

Arachne: a female black widow who was rescued in the outskirts of Silk Cradle, having fallen sick due to lack of medicine. She willingly went with Lamb. When Focalor joins the Cult she takes an immediate interest in him. The two flirt and eventually be married. Their daughter befriends NariLamb's future adopted daughter. Before meeting Focalor she was a bit closed off, unable to open up to others out of feeling alienated due to her being one of few arachnids in the cult.

And that's all for now!

... well more like I don't have access to my list of named/interesting followers. LMAO. Like my notebook is three feet away but me tired and want to sleep.

But later I'll update the list

Also Seren was originally named Jiar but I was like "wait if she's born outside the Cult why would she have a Cult name. Lamb isn't the type to rename followers unless they ask. And Seren would not want to be given a Cult name given her dislike of religion."

So the name Seren! Based on one of my favorite characters from my favorite book series The Paths of Lantistyne.

Also Anbre's design is based off of one of my favorite villains from the Old Gods of Appalachia podcast.

And Meryen's design is based off of Bluestar from Warrior Cats!