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aron-caer · 4 years ago

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As you traverse the library, your eyes come across a small, leather-bound journal. Within is an account of an author's journey into the woods, and discovering an abandoned town. There his friends discover a torrid tale of birthright and blood, wrapped in the succulent flesh of prey...

Part One: A Grizzly Murder in a Tranquil Forest Village.

The unmarked car made its way up the paved road, a glorified driveway to the mansion at the top. The forest on either side was oppressive, the shadows darker than they should be. The chief constable driving ignored the feeling of being watched, focusing on his mission.

Crime scene tape blocked off the front door. The corpse of an old woman lay on top of a gurney, the sheet covering her soaked through with blood. The constable was unfazed by the gore under the sheet, so much of the woman was missing…

According to the officers on site, she was the last to be wheeled out. Several bodies, identified as the board members of the Grob-Shlecht Lumber Company, had been murdered in an animalistic fashion. Their corpses were found in the ballroom, along with their wives, all equally mutilated.

Preliminary reports from the medical examiner on sight confirm they were mauled and partially eaten by several animals. Officers were investigating the manor and the surrounding forest, but they wouldn’t find anything. The forest goes on for miles and was impossible to explore with only a small village constabulary.

They do find something, a few days later, hidden beneath a wild rose bush.

The constable drove back to his private office, using an old cellular phone to contact what remained of the families. Turned out the owner of the estate was holding a ball in celebration of her granddaughter's twenty-first birthday. Not only were the board members invited, but so too were their eldest sons.

They were not found amongst the bodies.

The constable sat in his office, looking over the evidence collected thus far. He ignored the majority of scientific documents and reports, focusing on one piece of physical evidence: a leather-bound collection of pages written in a sharp cursive script with deep red ink. It appeared to be the journal of the live-in gardener, an account of the few months leading up to the incident. What was strange is that it is written in third person, as if depicting a tale rather than a personal narrative.

The constable decided to read it, to see if it could provide any vital evidence to this case…

~~~

Allow me to spin you a tale of a quiet little town, full of folk tales and legends. It was a place slightly out of time, not a nightclub or strip mall to be seen. It was a town born from the wealth found in lumber, though it was slowly fading. Restrictions were being enforced upon the quantities harvested to protect the endangered wildlife in the area.

Above it all was a lavish mansion set back amidst a dense forest of oak and fir. It was home to an old family, made wealthy through the lumber industry. There were many rumors spoken from ale loosened lips: a missing heir, a wife made forgotten by the cruelty of a bitter matriarch, leaving only a daughter to carry on the bloodline. On a moonlit night, that same daughter stormed onto the balcony of her bedroom, tears running down her cheeks.

She was quite the luscious creature, adorned in a slate-grey sweater dress and warm leggings. Her skin was deliciously pale, a smooth layer of opulence softening hidden muscles into alluring curves. Long blond hair was pulled into a high and angry tail behind her, fully exposing a dainty countenance. Her eyes, a frigid blue, glistened painfully in the moonlight.

'What could possibly be going through her mind?' wondered the gardener. At that moment he was below her, watering the roses he tended so lovingly. He knew he should not disturb her. However, his curiosity was bolstered by young male desires.

If only he knew how such temptation would lead to his downfall.

Part Two: Unwanted Birthday Wishes

How could she do this?

How? After raising me? Was it all a lie?

How? After teaching me so much about the arts? Was it all simply to groom me?

How can she say that she never loved me?

Sitting in a chair, I lay my head on the balcony railing, my tears staining the smooth wood. I'm trying not to panic, trying not to break down from the crushing weight of what my grandmother has just told me. I refuse to give her the satisfaction, not with my 21st birthday on the horizon.

I need to get out of the house before I do something stupid.

As if in answer to my prayers, a ladder suddenly appears from below, startling me. It shudders from a familiar figure climbing up, as this isn't the first time he has done this. Still, my heart is pounding from the sudden fright.

"James, you scared the crap out of me," I say harshly down at him, but not too loud in case my grandmother has her bedroom window open.

James Woodsman is the family gardener, who always ends the night by watering the rose bushes that surround the mansion. He is a handsome young man who has only just recently taken over for his father, who retired. We grew up together.

My fright-induced heartbeat becomes a flutter of shy desire as he climbs into view, lean muscle and short black hair. His green eyes are deep and peaceful, and thoughts of my still intact virginity burn in the back of my mind.

He would be a good person to give it to…

My shameful fantasies are broken by recent memory, my grandmother’s cold voice breaking my heart all over again.

“I kept you sheltered, kept you pure, because suitors do not want a used up harlot…”

I shake my head, trying to eject the bloody rage coursing through my mind, only to see crimson petals inches from my face. James is at the top of the ladder, offering me a rose. He is looking at me with confusion, and I blush.

“I’m sorry for scaring you, I just thought you could use some cheering up?”

James's voice is a tender tenor, very pleasant to my ears. I take the rose, opening my lips to say thank you. My hand must have pulled it from his too quickly because he winces as the thorns cut into his finger tip

That's when it happens.

My nostrils flare, filling with the scent of his blood. It is sweet to me, my mind simmering with thoughts of richness and heat. I swallow my rapidly building saliva and try to talk but all I can do is stare at the welling drop gleaming faintly in the low light of the half-moon. It isn’t until James pops the digit into his mouth that I snap out of my trance.

“Th-thank you….I just need to get out of the house for a while; it doesn’t feel like home anymore.”

James tilts his head but doesn’t ask for more information. He was brought up to be a loyal servant, never asking questions, never prying into secrets. Thanks to my grandmother, I now know that there are many secrets in my family.

He pulls the finger out of his mouth. I see it has stopped bleeding. Why am I disappointed by that fact?

“Well, I could leave the ladder. I heard from a boy in the general store that there will be another rave in the tavern cellar tonight. I’d go, but it's been a long day.”

As he speaks, I see him pull his keys out of the pocket of his work vest and leave them hanging from the ladder.

“Maybe one night when I’m off, we could go into town? A new bistro opened up recently, maybe we could try it?”

I don’t know why I do it, my mind perhaps overwhelmed by the excitement of freedom. Leaning in, my lips press hard onto his. The kiss is short, a new and sudden experience that will never be forgotten. He doesn’t have time to kiss back before I pull away.

I blush even harder.

“I would like that…but let's not tell my grandmother, She’d be pissed.”

Now it's time for James's face to change, going much more pale than me at the mention of my grandmother. He makes his way quickly down the ladder, and I rush into my bedroom to get changed. Minutes later, wearing a tight, red dress to contrast my eyes and black sneakers for comfort, I slide down the ladder with James's keys in hand, and am in his car before I have a chance to change my mind.

I don't care if I get in trouble, I need to do something bad for once, the more forbidden, the better.

Part Three: Her Cast off Maidenhead

The boy at the store was right. Down in the cellar, surrounded by old oak kegs, a small lake of bodies writhe to electronic music. I've never been to a rave, only seen it in movies. I am glad there aren't any drugs — in my broken state I would not be able to resist.

What draws me in, compels me so utterly, is the closeness. Within moments I am lost to the sway of hips, the touch of hands over my body. I've never had sex; I hope and pray to God that it is as deep and intimate as what I am feeling now.

I have felt arousal before, first experienced when I was younger, exploring out of curiosity. That was nothing compared with what my body is feeling now. My inner thighs are wet, my nipples hard, and electricity is making every inch of me tingle.

It doesn't take long before unfamiliar hands seek me out.

I've… pinched before, but the sharp sensation pales in comparison to when another does it. Rough hands penetrate the thin fabric of my dress, even through my bra. My moans are lost to the music, just another note in an endless song.

I have only ever known my fingers, bringing me to sharp and sudden orgasm. Never have I felt another's touch, much less the feel of a leg sliding between my shivering thighs. It is slender, a woman's thigh, clad in soft denim, and still the rubbing through my panties sends my body into convulsions.

Even now, my body is not allowed to break the rhythmic motions of the music.

I find my arms moving without volition, wrapping around the neck and shoulder of another. It is all I can do to not fall to my knees. My body moves on instinct, my lips kissing soft skin, feeling soft muscle, rich and bloody. I want more, more than just touch. I want to... feast.

My jaw opens, teeth ready to bite…

Only to be suddenly pulled away.

I feel stone, cold and damp against my back, my eyes regaining their focus. I see a man, tall and lean. He wears a shirt, left open to reveal a layer of thick chest hair. His dark hair is shoulder length, covering his neck.

"You are not ready, little pup…"

His voice is deep, a growl formed into words.

“Your teeth aren’t sharp enough..."

He lifts my legs, and I wrap around his strong waist without thinking.

"But if you need to sink your teeth in..."

Hands grip my waist, and I wrap my arms around his neck.

“You can bite to stifle your screams as I put you in your place.“

After all my heartbreak, from those who I looked up to and loved, my body has nothing left to stop this man from breaking me. I accept him inside, losing all that remains of my maidenhead. I do indeed bite, sinking into the muscle of his shoulder, too tough for me to even draw blood.

“That's it, little pup. Know your place.”

I do. I take every thrust inside me. It feels good, even though it hurts. It feels raw, it feels wrong, and I want more. I bite harder, dig my fingers into his back. He...He growls into my ear and it drives me to a place my fingers could never reach. He does not finish inside me but marks my skin with his salt.

Swirls of flashing lights bleed together with the euphoria found in innocence lost. Yet, as unconsciousness takes me, I wonder…

What will take its place?

~~~

What indeed? That heated moment with a stranger had awakened something within the woman. It was something old and hungry, a birthright that had been kept secret. Now, it twisted her dreams, calling out with images instead of words...

She was in the forest outside her grandmother's home. Waist deep in foliage, she lifted her head. Nostrils flared, taking in the scent of dew-soaked leaves, and something more metallic. All around her, glittering in the darkening shadows, feral eyes glowed with predatory iridescence.

Ravenous jaws hung open, spilling forth steam in a choir of heavy panting. The mist of their breaths roiled around her, obscuring the forest in swirling fog. The woman breathed it in, tasting that delicious richness she had always craved.

Suddenly, rows of sharp teeth lashed out from the fog, seeking to clamp down upon her throat.

Awakening, she sat up sharply and her head impacted against the low roof of the gardener's compact car. After several moments of cursing, she drove the vehicle away, watched by a tall figure leaning against a nearby lamp post.

The man smiled, his body still tingling from being inside the woman. He slipped a hand into his pocket, pulling out the pair of panties he had taken during their meeting. He pressed it to his face, inhaling deeply. He needed to remember her scent, in case he had to hunt her again, to keep her out of trouble…

Just like he had promised.

Would you like to read more?

#dark beauty #monsterlove #wolves #paranormal #horror #little red riding hood

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aron-caer · 5 years ago

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Here is an excerpt from my story "Beloved Dolor" It is the first in a series of stories for my strange and wonderful world. If you would like to purchase the full story, it can be found on Amazon!

https://www.amazon.com/dp/B088DD7FS1

The city of Arxora was a bustle of life that was full of secrets, governed by the Aronite Order, it was a city of faith and peace held together by little white lies. Veronika grew up in this city, tried to find all its secrets as an investigative journalist. Yet it was only in the past few starcycles that she had discovered the greatest secrets. As she walked her eyes caught the many different forms of dress, ranging from overtly clad to overly covered. This was for many reasons, the most important of which to keep with the status quo. For in this city, the normal and abnormal thrived.

Humans who worshipped the light, immortals who feared it. Secret spiritual beasts, beast-kind who either showed themselves proudly or hid the embrace of shadows on their skin. All coexist in tensioned acceptance, under the guise of visual ignorance. All of which hid the true secrets that only chosen few had realized.

And Veronika Chambers was cursed to be one of those few.

To everyone else, an alleyway was just an alleyway, but Veronika spotted a small bloom peeking along the upper wall of one of the buildings that formed it. A black rose that shimmered violet in the sunlight, the Dolor Rose. Walking into the alley she followed the vine that the rose sprouted from, all the way to a chain of blooms that formed the shape of a doorway against the dull brick.

"Shaduul."

Veronika shuddered at the tingle of her life force draining from her, a small trickle of weakness at the corners of her perception as her own shadow began to warp at her command. It was a feeling she knew intimately, sending new pangs of sadness against her heart as the umbral mass to the form of an owl that somehow perched on one of the bricks set into the wall.

A black nebula etched into feathers and down, small novas surge with turquoise light as they shift and dance. Blue-green suns but in their sockets, looking to her for its purpose. The woman refuses to look into them, with how much they resemble the eyes of another.

“Open the way home,” The owl trilled happily in affirmative, taking flight and beginning a circling pattern within the alleyway. The shadow owl suddenly dove to impact against the wall, erupting into a cloud of interstellar smoke as a door began to shape itself from within the frame of roses.

"What do you want Tholanar?"

The figure stood a few feet from her, taller than Veronika, and adorned in a heavy hooded trench coat. The hood had a slit in the middle, fitting around a single black horn. Two colored eyes were somehow visible as they looked at her with contempt, one a dark chocolate, the other a deep cerulean. A scarf hid his flesh from the sun, and his body twitched at the utterance of his name as he removed it to reveal a short equine muzzle.

“ We need to talk, Veronika,” his voice was smooth, a very faint but lurid hiss served as undertone, a clear sign of Ceadra lineage. “ The Court is going to-”

“I don’t care what the Court wants, they made it clear that I had nothing to do with Mentior and did not want me involved, apparently 5 loops means nothing to them.” She looked up at the sound of a click, the door that was now present opening on its own. The owl hopped gleefully on the steps leading upward. A part of her knew that this is what she truly needs.

Veronika sighed, looking away from the happy shadow owl to face Tholanar,” The Court has forbidden me from coming back.” All pure-blood Ceadra like Tholanar were crafted to be handsome, his body lythe with dense musculature beneath his coat. Tholanar removed his scarf, revealing short equine snout.

“I know, they told me when they offered me the position of Headmaster.” Veronika gave him a look of utter disgust, yet she refused to move. ”That...makes sense, you were Elijah’s son. However, your sol-mother would have wanted otherwise.” Veronika smiles slightly at the sight of the stallion wincing at her words, anger flashing in his eyes as a hand reaches up to rub against his temple.

“That…imp…is dead, and isn’t going to protect you anymore. Now I’ve got to clean up Hir mess before the Court will allow me to take control of the Academy.”

The pupils of his eyes suddenly twist into reptilian slits, causing Veronika to look away. "Oh no you don't," with supernatural speed the vampiric creature closed the distance between them, one hand gripped the woman's rear as the thick hoof-like nails of his other dug into her cheek and chin. His strength, comparable to the strongest of human capabilities, forced her face back to look into his gayze. Jacinth fire now burns within his slitted pupils, attempting to magically force dominance upon her will.

"Open your mind to me..." Tholanar's words lose their hate, becoming sickly sweet and full of eerie song. Yet Veronika was ready for him, a faint turquoise light shimmering beneath the white of her blouse. “Bassalaste,” an opalescent shimmer flowed across her eyes, solidifying into an opaque crystalline pink that protected her from his gayze.

"You will not make me forget Hir, Tholonar." Veronika hisses the words, looking into the male's eyes without fear. The male growls in response, an animalistic sound that belies more than just anger. Veronika takes note of this, her mind growing sharp amidst danger as she begins to notice other things.

“How long has it been since you’ve fed?”

The equine’s eyes squinted at the words, failing to hide how the fangs that were unique to the lazmya subspecies were fighting to stay folded within his maw. "I can smell lust dripping from you, feel its heat on your skin," Veronika gasped when the hand at her rear moved to her front, pressing into the still moist panties beneath. "I can satisfy that desire, I can help you forget all that she ever was to you and free you from all that pain…"

"All you need to do is give in to me…"

Closing her eyes, she imagined The touch of her companion again. As the woman felt Tholanar's cold breath against her neck, tears began to well up at the realization that Shi would watch her be molested by this monster. “Is that what you told her? Every time she lusted, every time she desired but was kept starving for your own selfishness?”

Veronika's fingers move to guide the hand at her cheek down to the curve beneath her blouse, allowing him to cup her modest breast. Tholanar let out a pleased whinny, tenderly squeezing with trembling fingers in a struggle to give in to his own eagerness to indulge. As she responded to his words, she pressed her hips against his, seeking to keep his guard down.

"Yes..." Veronika's hand moved out of sight, and Tholanar groaned as he felt her fingers fumble with the button of the stallion’s pants. "I am very wet," she smiled as her pelvis ground her wetness against his probing fingers. This is her plan, to take advantage of all Ceadra's greater weakness, a constant hunger.

She bared her neck to the Immortal, letting him see the pulsing of her blood beneath her light olive skin. Only when she felt the burn of his scrutiny on her throat, the stiff throbbing in his pants, does she make her move. Resting the back of her head on his shoulder, Veronika's voice became cold, and the marks on her skin began the glow again.

"My wetness comes from thoughts of Hir, touching me, not you." The fog of many pangs of hunger slowed the hybrid's mind. In expecting her to comply, she easily slips from his grasp. "My blood boils at the thought that she would step aside if you commanded her, after everything you did to break her mind!"

“Vacaray Mofka!"

Three crystalline feathers emerged between the knuckles of the woman’s closed fist, which swings around to slice into the flesh of Tholanar’s cheek. Hot tears fall from gleaming skin as she spoke with bile in her throat, "As Powerful as Shi was, Shi would obediently wait her turn to be used, just for the false hope of you one day showing the smallest spark of the love you once had!"

With an avian screech of rage, Veronika put all her pain, her hate, and her grief into a single uppercut to the equine’s jaw. "Even if you could make it all go away, someone has to remember everything you did to Hir!"

Triumphant relief filled Veronika as her conclusions were not unfounded, the Ceadra staggered back as near-black blood gushed from the wounds. Normally such an attack would be considered a minor injury, but Tholanar must not have fed in days for his regenerative powers to be non-existent. The male coughed up blood as he tried to pull the bladed feathers free, only to have the barbs of the feather extend and hook, causing more pain than he was able to ignore.

"Now go tell the Court that if they want me, they can come get me themselves.” Veronika looked down at the immortal, watching with cold contempt as he whimpered like a beaten dog. Yet it is all she can do to keep her body from collapsing, all her remaining power going to keep the feather-blades fully manifested.

She looked to the open doorway again, leading to home, to sleep. Yet it isn't what she wanted, she wants to feel Hir again. Veronika knew that waiting for her up those stairs was painful memories and nightmares of what is now gone forever. She was not going to get what she wanted by going through that door, she wasn't going to get it anywhere.

However, anywhere was better than where she was now. The owl waited patiently, her guardian, her gatekeeper, the manifestation of her bloodline that had long since been forgotten by the world. Veronika walked through the door, which closed behind her before vanishing into the shadows trapped within the many rose blossoms.

#dark beauty #monsterlove #romance #dark #tentacles #lust #dream #hybrid #shadow magic

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aron-caer · 5 years ago

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Elanora's Song

Aron's light burns across the ocean, salty steam rising up from it's surface to cover the three ships as they rapidly traversed the treacherous waters. Now was the time to act, as the sun's brightest light kept them safe from the darkness held deep within the sea. Elanora feels the seafoam mist soak into the cream-colored fur that covered her body, and the thin gown that now clung to her slender curves.

To everyone on the ship, Elanora appeared as a Bastia, or beast-kind, with lapine features. Scars cover most of her body, including the upper half of her elegant face. Though she had once been blind, the gift of the Mother Dark has given back her sight, two beautiful violet eyes looking out from the bow of the Wraith.

"Apigaurd!"

Just before the steam broke and allowed the burning rays to scorch Elanora's fur, a complex honeycomb of black rose up to protect her. The lapine gasped as thick but nimble fingers tipped with thick nails grasped her shoulders, the thumbs running sensually up the back of her neck. She turned in their grasp, looking up at the handsome stallion who's thumbs now pressed dominantly into her throat.

Elijah could have berated her for being so reckless, instead the taller black equine leaned down to kiss his lover deeply. Their tongues dancing between each other's mouths, Elanora gripped the cloth of his tunic as the sun finally set. The male shuddered at the feel of her ebony forked tongue sliding down his throat, moaning instead of gagging from such strange teasing.

Though Elijah's equine frame looked more nimble than strong, Elanora came off the ground as if she were nothing in his grasp. He did not lift her by the throat, instead the shield he had conjured had transformed into tentacles that wrapped around her waist and brought her up to eye level with him. Their lips finally parted, the lapine's strange tongue slithering back into her mouth slowly so her lover could watch.

" Are you sure about this?" Elijah asked once the tongue finally left his short and handsome snout. Elanora nodded, looking over her shoulder as the last light of the sun finally faded in the west. The stars became visible in the midnight blue sky, and to the east, the moon began to rise.

"Yes...the Void moon will carry my voice and change the world forever."

The moon was completely black though light still emanated from it. All around them Elanora could feel the touch of the Void, strengthened by the moon bereft of cleansing light. Within the ocean surrounding the three ships, ungodly serpents waited hungrily.

"The Void will try to stop us."

"Yes, I know, that is why you will need some of my strength, so you can help protect us."

Elijah's ears reddened with blush, looking around at all the other shadow-touched Bastia around them on the deck of the Wraith. "H-here? Now?" His brusque tenor voice trembled in his throat. Elanora smiled, her violet eyes beginning to glow as she shrugged a shoulder off her gown.

"Yes my solmate," the nail of her index lengthened, becoming a sharp point as she dragged it across the fur of her shoulder. Elanora gasped as glowing purple blood began to ooze from the wound, the sight and smell of it causing Elijah's eyes to ignite. Jacinth light glowed from the pupils of his chocolate brown eyes, though he had fed today, the sight of his beloved's life essence made him hunger in many ways.

“Partake in my blessing, so you might use the power of our new master to strengthen those who can keep us safe.” Elijah tried to resist, his hands moving down to press against her belly and push her away. But now the tentacles he had conjured were under her control, it always was. Elanora delights in her lover’s whinny of surprise as more tendrils wrapped around him, their bodies soon pressing together in a dark and playful embrace.

Elijah had yet to learn how to resist his Ceadric urges, having awoken from death as a vorasp only days before. Now he was fighting desires both old and new, including the deepest want of having his lumate on display. His only fear was that Elanora would shun him if she knew how much he secretly enjoyed others watching her.

“Oh my love….I have always known, I did not need to bind to your shadow to know how your eyes watched not just me, but others watching me.” Elijah gasped as he felt tentacles caress along his trousers, teasing his arousal within. Her words would be the final grain of sand in the hourglass, ceiling his doom.

As a mortal being turned vampiric creature, he did not have the sharp cuspids required to sink into Elanora’s flesh. The cut into her neck would be his entry point, his equine snout clamping down as he takes great pleasure in hearing her moan from his act of hunger. Her fingers lace into his mane of feathery black hair, pushing him harder against her neck as her strange purple blood filled his mouth.

Every passionate gulp of blood sent surges of sensation through Elijah’s body. The mark of shadows that once gave him power, black lines in the texture of rope tied around his forearms and neck, now glowed with violet light. He could feel the eyes of other Shadow-touched around him, which urged him to drink heavier for their fascination.

Elanora did not falter, did not weaken, the dark and beautiful moon gave power to those of her kind, that of the Noxal. Voidborn, Dark walkers, condemned, souls corrupted by the void who somehow find freedom from the dark afterlife of suffering meant for sinners. Yet there were those who were forcefully corrupted, dragged down into the abyss instead of tempted to enter it’s embrace. Those broken souls would become the Mother Dark’s children, the Fae.

And it was time to call them home.

Elanora staunches the flow of her life essence, giving Elijah a way to pull himself away by removing the source of one of his hungers. The equine snorted, his hard bite quickly turning to soft kisses as lust now took control. His fingers pulled at the shoulders of Elanora’s gown, soon peeling it off her slender curves.

She now stood naked before the crowd, the scars of burns long healed now easy to see across her form. Yet age had smoothed them into her enticing curves, and had shifted from faint pink to an otherworldly ebony. This showed the surge of dark power now coursing through the lapine’s body, violet eyes now blazing like strange suns within their sockets as she spoke in not only her voice, but into the minds of all those aboard the Wraith.

“Now go! Use the shadows to defend against the darkness below. Let my Solmate lend you our strength.”

Her words urged Elijah from his hungry transe, giving her one last kiss as he ran down below decks with the others. Elanora walks to the stern of the Wraith, looking out to the faint line of land on the horizon. Her scars began to glow with violet energy, and she spread her arms wide as her voice danced from her lips in eldritch song.

Mother, dark and ageless

Carry me on wings of second birth

Unto those who you have shown new worth

Hear my declaration

An anthem for all souls broken and lost

The lapine rose off the desk, floating in the air as black tentacles rose up from the scars all over her body, slowly reaching out into the darkness as an inky ooze flowed over her cream colored fur.

I rise above my fearful heart

And call the ones that darkness left behind

Breathe my plea across the winds

Invite those who wish to break their chains

As her words echoed into the night, her eyes coils see faint pin pricks of purple light in the distance. They were the hearts of Fae whom she had met on her journey, calling back to her as her song reaches them across the Void that connects them all. THe blackness fully covered her form, and she transformed into her new, true self.

Her elegant curves and beautiful lapine face remained, her long silver hair melting into thin tendrils that writhed in the wind. Her long legs disappeared, replaced by a ‘skirt’ of tentacles of varying sizes that flowed and danced with her body in sensual motions. Her voice became richer and more sultry as she sang out across planes of existence, sure that even the Mother Dark will hear her pleas.

Ignite the fire

In your heart

Come take a one-way journey

Defy the Viper

In your soul, you are not ordinary

There is no place for you here

Raise the anchor

Come aboard all captives of the darkness

This Wraith Ship

Will go to a new world

Let us go!

Elanora hears dark rumblings beneath, and she looks down to see the silhouettes of slithering monsters beneath the waves. They batter against the defences brought up against them, surges of purple light telling her that Her lover was sharing their strength. THe lights in the distance started to wink out, black portals on the deck to allow her distance friends and acquaintances to step through.

She could feel their fear, see it in their eyes as they answered her call. Elanora recognized many faces, the little girl who was drowned in a well, the lover who desired to love someone against his culture and was buried alive. She even saw faces she had never seen, Fae who heard of her and revered her as some dark messiah chosen to set them free.

Cast off for our journey

Join me as we sail the blackened seas

Unto unknown adventure—Fly with Me

Do not be undaunted

Come on board and leave your shackles behind

Many of the Noxal Fae looked confused and fearful, those who knew her closest came to her side when she landed on the deck to greet them. The little girl held her like a child desperate to embrace her mother, the lover looked out at the other ships as if recognizing a feeling. To those who showed reluctance, her voice took on stronger care.

Desperate to hide, redeem your freedom

For those who are rejected by the light

Forged and branded by our shame

All our broken pieces we now reclaim

Some would join her side, while others remained in fear. More Noxal appeared around them, floating like spirits of the dead as they sought to haunt the ship that would become their way to freedom. Elanora’s song was joined by those who joined her, with the others speaking back against her words.

Ignite the fire

In your hearts

Together on this journey

(There's trepidation in the air)

Deny the Viper

For your souls, are just extraordinary

He has no place for you here

(Living condemned, we seek new life)

Free, unanchored

All aboard as I cry against the darkness

This Wraith Ship

Sets off to our new world

Yet as Elanora sang, she could feel the trapped hearts within each Noxal brighten. A joy begins to swell within her heart as 40 beings join her sides, tempered by some who still refuse her kindness. While some fade back into the darkness, others venture to each of the three ships, joining their crew as they fight against the dark serpents below. Some use their powers to speed the ships along, finally taking them beyond the vision of their old home as they forge ahead to new beginnings.

Elanora dances on the deck, spurned by the hearts of lost souls now joined with her in song. She lets her voice ring out into the darkness, and the Fae who joined her sang back. When she sings the chorus again, they all sing with her.

Ignite the fire

In our souls

We take a one-way journey

(There's revolution in the air)

Slay the Viper

In our hearts, we are extraordinary

She has a place for you here

(Living condemned, given new life)

Raise the anchor

All aboard as we cry against the darkness

Our Wraith Ship

Goes on to change the world

Here we go!

Elanora looks out from the bow, her eyes burning bright as the dark moon continues to rise. In the face of evil, and after all the suffering she witnessed, Elanora now looks forward to a new future. Together with her dark brothers and sisters, They venture off to an unknown fate that had to be better than the past they were once destined to.

#dark beauty #tentacles #monsterlove #fantasy

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aron-caer · 5 years ago

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Another Saturday, another piece of my puzzle, hope you enjoy!

Small bare feet padded quickly on polished wood floors, excited breaths echoed faintly against black marbled grey stone walls. Giggles mingled with strange mutterings as the the little girl danced through the shadows, cut by the setting sun pouring through the windows. Her words enchanted them, causing them to grow opaque. Veronika did this to slow hir down, to give the girl a chance to win the game.

Long raven hair shimmered with midnight indigo as it flowed behind the little girl, a few inches above the hem of her pale blue nightgown. She could feel the very core of the mansion rumble, as if every crafted brick trembled with anticipation. A heavy bell tolled, and Veronika gasps with surprise as the little girl nestled herself in one of the shadows.

"Shaduula protensa!" Turquoise light emerged from beneath her gown, her small and delicate body becoming a pointalistic tapestry of blue-green stars. Their pattern took on the form of feathers embraced by trails of cosmic dust, the way they swirled across her skin created the illusion of dancing amidst an interstellar current. The shadows she hid within took on the shape of giant wings, folding around her body as the last bell of sunset rang.

Aron's light was always brightest at dawn and dusk, the golden luminance of the sun gradually became a blinding white radiance that reduced the shadows between the windows into minuscule lines of shade. Veronika's wings kept her safe, those thin lines of blackness held her enchantments.

#shadow magic #writing #fantasy #magic #shadows #shadow manipulation

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aron-caer · 5 years ago

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The concept of fear, love, and trust.

As I craft with written word these dark and passionate charecters, I remind myself of a strange facination I have.

My wife does not have the level of facination I have. I am glad for that, as it serves to ground me to reality. There is a deep connection between fear and love, just as there is a bond between pain and pleasure.

The only way you would get hurt is if you do not trust your lover, or if your lover does not trust himself.

You are in the middle of passionate love making, you feel your lovers hand against your throat. You do not feel him or her squeeze, just grip you as a show of dominance and need. They could easily strangle you, make the last thing you see their eyes looking into you with utter animal passion. Do you trust them? Would you pull away? Or do you press into it, let them get a better hold so they can love you harder knowing your lover would never do anything to hurt you....unless you beg for it.

#dark beauty #love #love + fear #trust #passion

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aron-caer · 5 years ago

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Here is a little snippet of what I am working in, enjoy!

The library.

Shelves lined the walls, filled with volumes ranging from tomes of knowledge and history, to sultry fiction. ~Such literary diversity is not seen in public institutions, the minds who grow within these walls are free to explore and find their true selves within the words of others.~ Veronika remembers such words during the first tour of the Academy, remembers how her eyes could not help but wander down to watch the excited wiggle of Hir teardrop shaped tail.

A sudden warning screech prompts Veronika out of her fantasies, turning to see eyes glowing in the darkness. Burning vermillion glares at her with hunger and hatred, as arcs of strange black-green lightning burst forth from the figure’s hands. The woman’s knees tremble as her owl reacts faster than she could, a wall of black feathers rises up to take the hit.

A faint turquoise light shimmering beneath the white of her blouse, the use of stronger magics revealing her mark of shadows. Small points of blue-green light formed a small constellation of stars along her cheeks, traveling down the sides of her neck. Veronika knows those eyes, understands that hunger, and she sneers as she speaks his name through clenched teeth.

“Tholanar…”

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aron-caer · 5 years ago

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commission for low-keyfur on FA

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aron-caer · 5 years ago

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Here is a snippet of writing I got done this morning

The shadow owl’s eyes burned turquoise, filled with her innermost feelings.

She could not look it in the eyes.

“Take this to Lord Cavallo.” Veronika would say, tapping the envelope. The owl leans down, picking it up with its beak before taking flight. Its massive wings cause no disruption in the air as it circles the room, finally diving into the darkest corner of the space.

There is a sudden screech of pain, an otherworldly sound echoing from the darkness around her. The shadow owl bursts from beneath one of the chairs on the other side of the Headmaster’s desk, knocking it over. The horrid smell of burning shadow matter fills the room, and Veronika can see strange green embers falling from her conjured messenger.

It perches itself on her desk again, its head flopping to one side, nearly decapitated. Veronika can see the smoldering remains of her document, the word ‘library’ carved into the avian’s chest. The woman gave a sound of frustration, her throat letting out a strange screech of her own.

“No. I won’t let that asshole get to me. If he wants to meet with me personally, that’s fine by me.”

Printing out a fresh document, Veronika takes a moment to smooth out her attire. She makes sure her black pencil skirt and suit jacket were straight, tugging on the white stockings that match her blouse. As she checks the garters beneath her skirt, Her mind wanders to how much Shi enjoyed watching her dress. Biting her lower lip, she gives one of the garters a snap in an attempt to relive the moment.

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aron-caer · 5 years ago

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Hello everyone, I thought I would start posting my concepts for my world, little bits of lore that I created in order to make my stories all the more intriguing to me. I personally do not like holes in my writing, even if I am making a simple tentacle story, everything the tentacles do must make sense to me.

So here is my first bit of lore, the Void. This is something I have created, inspired by multiple religious ideals, fictional concepts, and my own dark and twisted mind. If you have any questions, do not be afraid to ask, as it will serve to improve my work. If you would like to use any of my lore to create characters for yourself, feel free to ask.

Most of us have a concept of hell and heaven, even an idea of a middle ground between the two. This world is no different, with clearly defined positions within the afterlife governed by deific beings. In this concept article I will be discussing and fleshing out the Void, along with its manifested being, Dominus.

The Void is a manifestation of nothingness: the absence of light, life, and sensation. Anyone doomed to suffer this afterlife would forever experience all desire and sensation drained from them. Think of the concept of a phantom limb, where a person could still 'feel' a severed limb. Imagine not only your entire body, but also thought and need is a phantom of its true self.

Imagine that, almost being able to complete a thought, only to have it torn away. To want to touch another's hand, only to only feel the wind of its touch pass by. To feel the pangs of lost love, always out of reach.

This is the nature of the Void, to have all of your greatest joys, your darkest desires kept from you. All of this is drained from you, devoured by the entity that is the Void. The great Serpent of Darkness, Dominus.

Dominus is living corruption, Always seeking to escape into the world, to defile and corrupt all things created by Aron, the God of light, and Bast, the goddess of nature. All so they could become his food. Just as all things are connected to the light and the natural world, so too are they connected to the Void. It is why all things cast a shadow when in light, for the Void hates the light, and hides behind things.

If darkness remains long enough undisturbed on the world, such as a dark cave or an overgrown jungle, it becomes a crack from which these trapped and tortured souls could leech through. These Voidlings require life energy to physically manifest, otherwise they remain trapped in the dark space. When enough life force is collected, they will tend to manifest in a form based on the living creatures drained.

So be careful when traveling through a dark forest, or dark cavern, or even a heavily shaded alleyway in an old city. You may feel your heartbeat quicken as your body grows slowly weaker than it should. You may see the silhouette of a dog, hear the skittering of spiders, or even the heavy hungry breathing of another person in your ear.

Worst of all, you may hear a voice, see eyes in the dark, for voidlings possess the same desire as their horrid master, to corrupt and devour. They may offer you the gift of power, to use the dark energy of the Void to satisfy your deepest desires. Those who give in, who choose to become one with the darkness, will become Wraiths.

Wraiths are beings of eternal hunger, able to devour the souls of the living to increase their power. The price for this power is to further lose their mortality, as the memories, personality, and flaws of the mortals taken, further driving them to madness. Such powerful creatures are not invincible, As there are many ways to banish, cleanse, and control Wraiths and lesser Voidlings.

That I will discuss in other exploration into my world. until then, I hope you have enjoyed this glimpse into my mind.

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