#his complexion was deathly pale too

[neproxrezi]

random screenshot time: i yoinked Vyke's sliders a bit ago and then removed the burn mark and the ashen hair and the clouding from the eyes (he has brown eyes under the light blue clouding from being burnt up) (he also has a little bit of eyeliner and the longest eyelashes. i didn't do that. fromsoft did) and he's a handsome boye... i get it, lansseax

[princessanonymous]

When Night Comes

Platonic Yandere Vampire

Previous Part | Next Part

First Chapter

Trigger Warning : Murder(I mean this is a platonic yandere vampire fic so I think it's expected but still)

3. 𝓑𝓻𝓲𝓷𝓰𝓮𝓻 𝓸𝓯 𝓡𝓾𝓲𝓷𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷

(Y/n) rubbed her gloved hands together, a visible shiver running through her frame as the early signs of winter crept in. The tapestry of warm hues, created by the fallen leaves, hinted at the impending arrival of the cold season. Clutching her basket tightly, she navigated the forest floor, where the leaves crunched beneath her every step. Although she wore mittens that her mother had lovingly knitted, the biting wind still managed to sneak its way through, causing her to quicken her pace. She was used to walking down this path. The girl had passed through these trees more times than she could count. In fact, (Y/n) could confidently assert that she knew these woods as well as she knew the back of her hand, familiar with the choicest spots for fruits and the tastiest areas for legumes.

Her gaze dipped down to her basket, brimming with an abundant harvest of wild mushrooms. She liked picking mushrooms. While she held the expertise to distinguish between edible and toxic mushrooms, her mother had a habit of double-checking her finds before consumption. (Y/n) took pride in her knowledge, and it was something she didn't hesitate to boast about.

As she walked, her thoughts circled back to the clearing she had recently departed. She realized the mysterious nobleman hadn't stopped by today. She wondered why a person from such a high profile entertained himself with her. Despite the mystery surrounding his intentions, (Y/n) appreciated his presence. He seemed to genuinely enjoy her random rants and conversation. The only thing that she didn't quite appreciate about him was his insistence on the fact she shouldn't do these little tasks she considered trivial. In his eyes, she was "too young" to be working "so much," a notion she found utterly ridiculous. The invitation to live in his mansion had been extended a week ago, and his repeated offers, met with her continued refusal, had become somewhat tiresome.

The path neared its conclusion, and (Y/n) failed to hear the familiar sound of her father's ax slicing through wood, a task he undertook to prepare for the impending frigid months. As (Y/n) tilted her head to the side, she wondered if he had hurt his back again. He wasn't as young as he once was. This task was becoming too strenuous for her father.

She knocked at the door. Approaching home, she anticipated her mother's customary welcome, complete with a steaming bowl of stew. However, as she waited outside, there was no such greeting. Unsettled, (Y/n) tried the door, only to find it unlocked.

"Mom never leaves the door open," (Y/n) whispered out with a pit forming in her stomach. She didn't know why it made her feel so weird. Maybe her mother had simply forgotten to lock it. There was a first time for everything, right ?

"Mom? Dad?" she called out with uncertainty, stepping into the silence of the house.

The once-cozy family home lay in ruins, a chaotic scene of overturned chairs, shattered tables, and broken plates that appeared as if a merciless tornado had swept through their lives. Blood stained the floor in grotesque patterns, a sign to the carnage that had unfolded within. There was too much blood. Dad was laying there, unconscious— dead on the floor. His eyes were wide open, staring at her with horror etched in his features. His neck had been bent in an odd shape, blood pooling out of it at a rapid pace.

A few feet away, (Y/n)'s mother was held captive in the clutches of a man—a man she recognized as the Duke de Beauvoir. Her mother's eyes were vacant, her complexion deathly pale, and sharp, white fangs had punctured her neck, the source of her life's essence drained by this monster in human guise.

'Vampire,' her mind supplied the dreadful truth.

A creature taking the form of a man, feeding upon the lifeblood of mortals.

The beastly duke turned his gaze toward her, his once-blue eyes transformed into a deep, almost crimson violet. Blood, her mother's blood, trickled down his lips.

Every instinct within her screamed the same command: Run. And she obeyed, abandoning her basket and sprinting into the forest, a place she knew well. She darted among the trees, her footfalls almost stumbling over exposed roots and colliding with low-hanging branches. Her mind was on high alert, and her heart pounded fiercely. Eventually, she found refuge inside a massive oak tree, one with a sizable hollow in its trunk where she had often hidden as a child.

Footsteps drew closer, their ominous presence tormenting her. "Are we playing a game, child?" the voice of her parents' murderer called out in a singsong tone. "I will find you~."

(Y/n) bit down on her trembling lip, her hands muffling her sobs. It was a macabre irony that she was once again using this tree for hiding, but now it wasn't a game. She watched as he walked past the tree, seemingly unaware of her presence. Relief washed over her, but her respite was short-lived. He returned, kneeled, and peered down at her, his face twisted into a sinister smirk that revealed his elongated fangs.

Terrified, she couldn't suppress her scream, and he effortlessly yanked her out of her hiding place. As she fought back against his inhuman strength, she pleaded through sobs, "No! Let me go! Please—"

"Hush," the vampire whispered soothingly. "Your father is here now; I shall make it all better."

He smiled at her, and before she could fully comprehend his words, he sank his fangs into her neck. A harrowing shriek escaped her lips.

This was the end, she thought, the world fading around her. She would join her parents in the afterlife. Her vision blurred, and her body went limp against her will.

Eventually, her screams quieted, and the pain subsided. (Y/n) felt the vampire's arms carry her, her body unresponsive. Her breathing slowed, and her head spun. Everything began to fade to black.

[hydroj1ns]

foul legacy (feral)

cw: i wrote this with ftm reader in mind but gn! should be fine, use of "pussy/cunt", oviposition, breeding kink, monster fucking, somnophilia only a little at the end, minimal plot for p0rn, childe is a literal wild beast here

he can smell it, the scent of prey, sweet and savory. he drools at the thought of his first meal in days. stalking from the dark shadows of the woods, he prepares to pounce on you.

when he finally does, you're frozen on the ground for a solid minute, staring up at the monstrous display of teeth, glowing purple eyes, and deathly pale complexion, with saliva constantly dripping down on your face.

however, now that he's so close to you, he smells another scent, something masked under the one that attracted him earlier. this was something more... arousing.

so instead, he overwhelms you with pheromones, causing you to pass out. he takes you to his cave, in the deepest, darkest corner of the forest, where no human dares enter. where you'll be safe.

when you come to, you're immediately hit with the stench of raw meat. as your vision focuses, you can make out two gleaming purple orbs. then, you're greeted by the same rows of teeth on a ghost-white canvas you saw earlier. it notices your conscious state and begins to stalk towards you slowly, almost timidly.

as the creature inches closer, you can only inch backward, that is until your back hits the cold stone of the cavern. it closes the gap between you two so that your face is mere centimeters from its own, and you can feel its warm, damp breath on your face.

he is absolutely enamored by you. he can vaguely register the scent of fear being emitted from your body at the back of his mind, but it only serves to arouse him further. he's been staring hungrily at your body for the past hour, trying his best not to pounce on you while you were sleeping. he prefers live prey anyway. he starts growling, deep from his throat, which is thicker than your thigh. the sound makes you flinch, drawing a whimper from your own throat.

you manage to croak out, "w-what are you? why d-did you b-bring me here?"

he stares at you for a few moments before rumbling, "ma... maaa... mate...."

this was not what you expected. mate? mating? this wild beast wanted to mate with you. you cringe at the thought, horrified of being violated. but then you think. how else would you escape? then, you glance at his face, eyes still glowing unsettlingly. your eyes travel down his impossibly large body, seeming out of place in this low cave. the rippling muscles under pale lilac skin, wispy orange hair, dark veins everywhere. you think to yourself, well... surely his... would be large too? no. what were you thinking? but if it let you leave. surely it would be better than being eaten alive. you doubt whatever species this monster is would be compatible with humans anyway. also, its been a while since you'd been dicked down. this is a once-in-a-lifetime experience, you try to reassure yourself.

"fine. but afterward, you have to let me go. okay?" you crane your neck up to tell it. he only grunts lowly.

"make this quick," you say as you begin removing your pants. "and DON'T come in me."

"do you have any lube? oil?"

it seems to understand your question, and you yelp as giant claws grip your thighs, dragging you closer. it widens its jaws to reveal even more rows of teeth and an impossibly long tongue dripping globs of saliva. it bends its neck down so its face is directly in front of your hole. you realize what is going to happen next. "n-no! w-wait! ah! hhnnng... annhhh... s-sto-stop..."

it either doesn't understand you or doesn't care. he shoves his tongue in your hole, its thickness seeming to fill every crevice of your insides. you've never felt anything like this.

after a few minutes of prepping you, it pulls the muscle out, leaving you feeling empty, with precum and saliva dripping from your glistening cunt.

it wasn't over yet, though. leaning back a bit, he reveals his crotch area, where there is a slit. this was not what you expected. he begins caressing the folds gently, producing the largest cock you've ever seen. its purple-black head revealed itself slowly, then followed by more dark length, transitioning to a bright purple at the base.

for the first time during this exchange, the beast makes eye contact with you, and you seem to understand. you inch closer to it, shimmying into his spacious lap, front pressing against his cock. you begin to rub against it, spreading the excess fluid onto the length. its hot. you can feel its warmth on your skin.

impatient, he grabs your hips harshly, sure to leave marks. lining up your entrance with his head, he slams your body down on it, causing your eyes to roll to the back of your head and drawing a particularly loud moan from you, "a-Ah...! n-noooo... mmphh!" and immediately, you squirt all over the monster's abs.

resting your head against its hard chest and panting heavily, you feel it in your stomach, and sure enough, when you look down at your navel, you see the bulge. experimentally, you press your fingers against the distended skin there. not even a second after, you come, your orgasm sending vibrations through your whole body.

arching your back, you can only groan more. cock-drunk and foggy-minded, you begin bouncing up and down on the large cock, simultaneously pressing down on your stomach. the monster's eyes darken, trained on the appearing and disappearing bulge of your abdomen. it lets out a deep growl at this, and you're suddenly pressed against the cold floor of the cavern, thighs pushed up to the sides of your head. he thursts even further inside you, and you can feel the head push past your womb. this causes you to come again, body shaking violently under the beast.

"aa-angh... w-wait... i can't take any more... please st-stop!" he can't seem to hear. you feel the base of his cock expand, becoming impossibly wide just past your rim. it become round, then popping off the length. he pulls back until almost his entire length is withdrawn from your pussy. then suddenly, he begins thrusting back in, using his claws to pull you towards him. this causes the egg to be pushed deep inside you, its roundness pushing against your walls until it pops past the opening of your tight womb.

however, your throat is sore, and you have no more voice to scream.

this act is repeated five more times. harsh thrusts, eggs just passing your womb entrance, your nails scrapping at the ground uselessly.

by the time you have 6 eggs nestled in your stomach, the monster is panting alongside you, his head bobbing above your own. tired, you feel your eyelids dropping, and you slip under the blanket of sleep.

little do you know, he isn’t done. watching your slumbering form, he restarts his thrusting, this time gently, and shallowly, as to not crack the half dozen eggs inside you. he thrusts a final time into your womb, finally cumming and fertilizing the eggs. the load is massive. even with his enormous cock plugging your hole, thick globs of white fluid still manage to drip down your bottom.

not wanting to waste a drop, he uses his proximal knuckles to push the cum back into you. he pauses, feeling a beat against his finger. curious, the beast gently presses the pads of his pointer and middle finger against your throbbing, abused lips, careful not to scratch you with his claws. he rests there for a few moments, feeling the beats of your pussy against his fingers.

archons, he needed to do this again. breed you again. fill you up with more eggs, more of his come. to mark you as his, so that any creature or human that came across your full form would only be met with the possessive scent of your mate.

you are his mate. made to carry his offspring, made to be bred until you couldn’t walk, until you couldn’t leave him. his cock would be inside you when you slept, when you ate, every hour of the day.

maybe you would learn to love it, being filled with clutches of eggs, cum dripping down your thighs, claw marks and love bites littering your skin like wildflowers in a field.

yes, ajax would treat you well.

[rose-of-the-grave]

Crown

Pairing: Nesta x Eris

Hey, everyone! This is a follow up to Castle that I have had planned for a while ever since someone commented that they wanted a pt.2 so here it is! This is also my first time actually writing and posting smut so please be gentle, I hope you enjoy! As always I'm the author (please don't repost)

Also this is for day 7 of eris week! @erisweekofficial

Masterlist. Read on Ao3.

Warnings: 18+, smut, p in v, oral(f and m receiving), biting, blood, kissing, use of fuck?, eris is HL, 'touch her and die', protective eris, idk what else really

Word Count: 4215

Description: Following Eris becoming High Lord there is a lot to do, including a meeting with the inner circle and a ball to formally announce his best title. In between all of this shenanigans ensue.

Taglist: @sylveryfire

They stood there, lungs heaving, as it all came crashing down. He was the new High Lord. She was now Lady of the Autumn Court. There was so much to be done. There were reforms to be put in place, people to get rid of. Soon there would be visitors, ambassadors from other courts ready to feel out any weaknesses, to gain an alliance with the new High Lord.

But first, they would have to clean themselves off. Beron’s blood was splattered on their clothes and their altercation had left them both looking a bit disheveled. They were in no state for company.

Before either of them got the time to think, a servant entered the room. Her startled gasp at her High Lord lying on the ground, dead, while his son and daughter-in-law both stood together, a sword in her hand and blood covering both of them. Eris turned to face her and instantly she knew that he was his father’s heir.

Bowing low, “My lord.”

Without pause he commanded her to fetch his mother.

“What happens now?” Nesta asked, unsure of what procedure must be followed in this type of situation.

Eris let out a weary sigh. “Now we send out an announcement to all of the High Lords and send out invites to all Autumn Court nobility for a ball to formally introduce myself as the High Lord.” He was used to this sort of political game but the stakes just got raised with his new title. All eyes would be on him to see if he would follow in his father’s footsteps or make changes. Either way, he would make many enemies along the way.

“Eris?”

In the doorway stood the former Lady of the Autumn Court looking elegant as usual although there was still a deathly paleness to her complexion.

“Mother above! Is he…” Her hand flew to her mouth, shocked by the sight before her. She dared not say it out loud for fear that it would reverse it. The idea that her husband was finally deceased seemed too good to be true.

“Yes.” Nesta said, sword still in hand.

The only words she could hear in head was ‘I’m free’ over and over. After centuries of an unhappy marriage she finally allowed herself to think of a life without Beron. For so long it had only been a fleeting thought that she had only allowed herself to have once and never again. Until now, that is. Now she was free to do as wished. It was a dizzying thought.

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

A few days later the announcement that Eris was the new High Lord had been sent out, everyone was officially aware of Beron’s death. The invites for the ball had also been sent out. Although Nesta didn’t say anything she was slightly concerned that they would have visitors from the Night Court. She knew Rhys didn’t particularly trust either of them and would want to ensure that Eris would actually be an ally to them. Undoubtedly Feyre would do her best to convince him she should come as well despite her condition. If that happened then Azriel and Cassian would likely accompany them both.

She hadn’t seen Cassian since before the wedding and Nesta really didn’t want a repeat of that.

She leaned in the doorway of Eris’ new office where he sat examining papers. His head in one hand, hair messy from running his fingers through it, he looked exhausted and yet, also extremely hot. His fiery hair shone in the light coming from the fireplace.

“Hey.”

He looked up and over at where she stood in nothing but her pajamas.

“Why are you still up? I thought you went to bed.” Eris asked.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

“I’m almost done here, I can come by your room when I’m done.”

She shook her head, “I’ll wait.”

For the past several days he had been sleeping in her room. Both of them were far too stressed to engage in much conversation but they had managed to find solace in each other’s presence.

When they did finally go to bed the two of them nearly collapsed from exhaustion onto the bed, almost immediately falling asleep. As sleep claimed them their bodies drifted towards each other, their limbs intertwining.

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

“Rhysand has requested a meeting.”

Nesta looked over at him from where she was pulling on her clothes.

“Is he coming here?”

He shook his head. “No, in the Hewn City.”

There was a pause. Rhys would want to ensure that he was still an ally now that he was High Lord now. Feyre would be there, she thought. So would Cassian. Regardless, it was important that they put up a unified front.

“When do we leave?”

Eris grimaced, “One hour.”

They did indeed leave an hour later, dressed to impress. Eris wore Autumn Court colors, the red and gold complimenting his features. Nesta’s dress matched. It was black with red and gold designs, outlines of leaves. They looked like a match made in hell.

When they arrived they were escorted to a meeting room that was not unfamiliar to Eris, he had had a meeting there once before not too long ago. Keir was already there but the Inner Circle was not. Waiting, Nesta thought, to make an intimidating entrance. An effort to make her and Eris not important enough to show up on time.

Time ticked away, the three of them sitting without making a sound. Under the table Nesta felt a warm hand placed over hers. Her heartbeat slowed a bit, brought back out of her imagination.

The doors burst open, revealing Feyre and Rhysand flanked on either side by Azriel and Cassian. The four of them took a seat across from them. Eris gave her a hand a small squeeze before facing them. Rhys waved a hand, dismissing Keir. He started to protest but thought better of it, running off.

All four of them were dressed in Night Court black, Azriel and Cassian wore all of their siphons, the light blazing. Feyre was even more pregnant than before. She put on a good face, void of emotion, but Nesta could see the strain in her features. Rhys looked unbothered as usual, picking an invisible piece of lint off of his suit as Eris discussed the promises he had made if this should happen. He had been promised protection in case the Autumn Court did not agree with changes he might make.

There was a small pause that would have gone unnoticed by most but Nesta caught it.

“We will send Cassian with you.”

No. There’s no way he said that. Nesta quickly masked her surprise but she noticed how odd the others were acting. This wasn’t decided before coming here. Or at least it hadn’t been discussed. She noticed the small, near imperceptible tell on her sister’s face, Rhys had made this decision without her. Azriel looked calm on the surface but she had a feeling that he was also thrown for a loop. Cassian however she didn’t look at.

Instead she glanced at Eris by her side, the unsurprised look on his face. He had expected this, she realized.

The High Lord of the Autumn Court sneered at Cassian, “Very well.” The Illyrian didn’t look all too happy either and Nesta was wondering what she had done to deserve this.

They all stood, Cassian walking over to the door. Feyre approached her, a hesitant expression on her face. Rhysand’s eyes did not budge from them, his very gaze threatening her endless pain if she dared to even consider hurting her sister. She shot a glare his way before she gave Feyre a small hug. They weren’t close but she was still her little sister.

“Tell Elain I said hi.”

Feyre bowed her head slightly, “Of course. She misses you. We all do.”

Her sentiment was not shared with the rest of the Inner Court but Nesta appreciated it nonetheless.

The whole way back to the Autumn Court was quiet, full of snide remarks and disgruntled looks. Every casual gesture of Eris’ towards her almost seemed pointed towards Cassian. Yet somehow they managed to return home without any actual fighting.

“One of the servants will have a room made for you. I’m sure you won’t mind that it’s right next to the stables. Better than what you’re used to I’m sure.”

Cassian was about to retort when Eris continued with a devilish smirk, “In fact, in order to truly protect us against threats you had better stand outside our bedroom.”

Cassian coughed, looking away from Nesta, “Our?”

“Yes. We are married. Did your mother never tell you what married couples do?” He leaned in a bit, “They fuck.”

Nesta snorted. Cassian turned bright red, not meeting their gazes. When she married Eris he clearly hadn’t imagined that they would actually be together. In his mind she was a victim, marrying Eris because she didn’t feel worthy and Eris was terrible enough to take advantage of her. While his imaginings were not unfounded his savior complex was misplaced.

Nesta walked to her room, exhausted and hungry. She still hadn’t finished one of her books and had been forced to pause in the middle of a very interesting scene. Eris followed behind, Cassian further behind him. When they reached the room Eris entered behind her and slammed the door leaving Cassian out in the hall with nothing to do but stand there and guard.

Nesta shrugged off her dress and pulled on something far more comfortable, climbed up onto the bed and grabbed her book. She sat there watching Eris also dress a little more casually, admiring his body. The candlelight illuminated his hair, making it look like a living flame. She clenched her thighs, watching his muscles flex with every movement.

“I can feel you staring.” He teased.

“And? We’re married. I’m free to look as I please.”

He turned towards the bed, “I never told you to stop.”

Changing the subject, she said, “You knew he would suggest Cassian be sent with us.” It wasn’t a question.

His expression shifted, no longer playful. “I suspected he would. The spymaster would be too obvious, Morrigan would refuse, and he wouldn’t come himself. Make no mistake, I am well aware that he has spies in my court but if I can keep my eyes on their main source of information all the better.”

“Plus you enjoy messing with him.”

He smiled, his amber eyes twinkling with amusement. “Indeed.”

A deliciously wicked thought came to her. She bore Cassian no ill will, well, not much but she sure did love to annoy him. Especially after how he acted after the dance where she was supposed to entrigue Eris. Part of it was she wanted to ensure he realized that this was entirely her idea, she actually wanted to be with Eris although she hadn’t at first. Secondly she knew that this would be fun.

Reluctantly she put down her book, promising herself that she could read it after. She expected him to want to get right into it so he could demonstrate just how much they did indeed fuck to Cassian. Instead he started pulling her shirt up. Lifting her arms, he pulled it up and over revealing that she was wearing nothing underneath.

One of his hands went to her breast, cupping it. A finger teasing her nipple. The other went to her neck, pulling her in for a kiss. She moaned when he bit her lip, grinning into the slight pain of his canines just barely breaking the skin. Pulling away he started leaving open mouth kisses down her chest, his hand moving down to her other breast. Lifting up again he pressed delicate kisses to her breasts, just shy of her nipple, his hands off to the side supporting his weight. His mouth circled them, never actually touching her where she wanted.

“Eris, please.”

He grinned before finally sucking one of them, letting go with a light pop before moving to her other one. Shifting further downward he pushed her legs further apart, settling between them.

“So wet.” He murmured, thrusting in his finger. Adding a second one, he leaned in licking up her center, teasing her clit with the tip of his tongue. He sped up his hand motions, adding a third finger but never actually touching her where she wanted him to. Nesta twisted her body, trying to get him to touch her clit but simply moved away.

She whined, “Eris!”

“That’s right. Tell him who’s making you feel good.” He encouraged, thrusting his fingers faster, bringing her closer and closer to the edge before finally flicking her clit with the very tip of his tongue.

“Eris!” She shouted as she came. When she finally relaxed he shifted upwards, bringing his mouth to her ear, his lips just barely brushing her.

“That’s my good girl.”

She turned her head, kissing him, tasting herself on his lips.

“Take your clothes off.” Nesta commanded.

“Take them off yourself.” He dared her.

She huffed but pushed him up into a seated position, pulling his shirt off before tugging on his pants, pulling them down. His hard cock sprung out, released from the cloth. She pulled them all the way off before bringing both hands up to his thighs. He was big but she knew that already.

She licked up the length of him, fisting him in one hand. Her fingers weren’t even able to touch. Pressing a featherlight kiss to his tip, she slowly took him into her mouth. Bobbing her head up and down, trying to take more of his length. He thrust up into her mouth slightly, choking her a little. She looked up at him with watery eyes before sucking on him, hard, spurred on by his moans.

“Fuck!”

He pulled her off him despite her protests.

“I want to hear you moaning my name so everyone,” He says with a pointed glance towards the door, “Knows you’re mine.”

He flipped her under him, lining himself up with her entrance. He met her gaze, smirked before thrusting into her hard. She groaned, loudly. Outside Cassian was sitting, listening in. He had been instructed to not leave their side his entire time here but he didn’t think Rhys had anticipated them fucking like rabbits within his earshot. He grimaced, wishing to be anywhere but there.

“You’re doing so good for me.”

Eris’ gaze never wavered from Nesta’s face, thrusting into her, watching her eyes roll back a bit. The noises she made were music to his ears. Reaching her arms up she tugged him closer, latching onto his neck, sucking at the pale skin. He groaned when her teeth broke skin.

“My little bloodsucker.” He said fondly, caressing her hair that had previously been braided but was now coming undone into loose waves. Taking advantage of his loss of focus she leveraged her strength, turning them over so he was underneath her and she was riding him, both hands placed firmly on his toned stomach.

Eris leaned back, his arms crossed behind his head, watching her fuck herself on his cock, her breasts bouncing every time she thrust down onto him. He was mesmerized by her near-hypnotic movements, thrusting up into her at the same time she pushed down.

When her gaze finally met his, he caught a glimpse of something that almost gave him pause. Her eyes were beautiful blue gray normally but now they looked almost silver. Then she blinked and it disappeared.

Realizing that she was getting close he flipped her back under him, a hand creeping between their bodies to rub her clit. He could feel her getting close, clenching so hard on him that he nearly saw stars.

“Come on, that’s it. Tell me, who’s fucking you so well?” He watched as she arched her back, the bulge of his cock making a visible bump in her stomach. Pressing down lightly he could feel himself move inside of her.

She moaned, “You!.”

“Say my name.”

She moaned again, clenching hard before finally reaching her release at the same time as him.

“Eris!” She yelled at the top of her lungs, loud enough others in the castle could probably hear if they passed by their room. As they both came down he kept on lazily thrusting into her before slowly pulling out. Staring into her eyes he thought he saw a flash of silver again but then it was gone.

Remembering their original objective she decided to have some fun. Saying louder than normal, “God, you’re so big.”

Teasing her a bit, he asked, “Bigger than Cassian?”

“Way bigger than Cassian.”

From outside the room they heard a sharp cough and sounds of someone kicking something.

Grinning at her he asked,”Best you’ve ever had?”

“Now, now don’t get ahead of yourself.” She teased, shrugging, “I’ve had better.”

“Oh, yeah?” He pulled her to him, claiming her mouth with a kiss.

“Convinced yet?” He asked.

“Convince me again.” Smiling, he pulled her in for another kiss.

Finally he pulled away for a second to grab a warm, soaking wet cloth to clean her off.

“Ready for round two?” She asked suggestively.

He groaned, hanging his head. “I wish I could but I still have more paperwork I need to get done for tomorrow before the ball.”

Nesta pouted, her bottom lip jutting out a bit causing him to lean in, gently pulling at her lip with his teeth. “I’ll be back in an hour, I promise.”

She narrowed her eyes at him before sighing, “Fine, I guess I’ll just have to take care of myself then.”

He leaned in, cupping her pussy with one hand. “Who does this pussy belong to?”

She crossed her arms defiantly. “Me.”

“Wrong answer. This pussy is mine to touch, mine to lick, mine to fuck. You will not pleasure yourself until you get back.”

She whined a bit but decided to give him this one, for now. She was going to have fun toying with him. Besides she didn’t mind giving him control as long as it was hers to give. Nesta could do whatever the fuck she wanted and he knew that but it wouldn’t hurt to wait, she got off on it a bit if she was being honest.

“Fine.”

“Say it.”

“I won’t touch my…” At his pointed look she corrected herself, “Your pussy.”

“Good girl.”

He stood up, pulling on some clothes before walking to the door. When he opened it Cassian stood there, facing the wall opposite him, not acknowledging his presence. Eris could smell the rage coming off him in waves, making him smirk to himself.

“Were you listening to us? Pervert.” He shook his head, faking disappointment even though that had been the plan. Eris had seen how the Illyrian had looked at his wife during the meeting and on the way back to the Autumn Court even when Nesta hadn’t. He was still not over her and clearly needed to be reminded of his place.

“I’m not, I wasn’t…” He trailed off.

Eris met his gaze, staring at him, not a hint of amusement left on his face. “Look at my wife again like you want to fuck her and I will kill you.” He stepped closer, snarling, “Touch her and die.”

“Nesta doesn’t need you defending her honor.”

“No. No she doesn’t. But as her husband it is my privilege to do so. I will not hesitate to end you regardless of the repercussions. And if my wife wishes to take your life herself I will gladly stand back and watch.” With that, he stormed away.

In her bedroom Nesta climbed into bed, pulling her shirt back on and finally read her book. It was one that she had found in the library and it was surprisingly good. She would have to make note about sending it to Gwyn and Emerie, she had a feeling that both of them would like it as much as she had. Nesta missed them a lot. That was the one downside to living in the Autumn Court, she could no longer see them unless she visited.

By the time she finished the book it was nearing two hours since Eris had left. Not wanting to go to bed yet she got up, put on some pants and walked outside. At the sound of the door opening Cassian sprung up from where he had been sitting.

“Nesta…”

She cut him off. “I don’t feel like listening to anything you have to say at the moment.”

When she tried to walk away he followed. Now annoyed, she whirled around. “You don’t need to follow me like a dog. I can take care of myself just fine.”

He looked like he was about to protest and she commanded him, “Stay here. If you follow me I will gut you.”

Continuing on she barged into Eris’ study to find him tirelessly reading through papers.

“Nesta? What are you doing alone?” He asked, noticing her lack of company.

“I have a dagger, I can defend myself you know.” For some reason she hadn’t told him about her power. Most of the time she ignored it, forgetting it was there. Other times when her emotions heightened it would surge powerfully.

“I’m not saying you can’t. But it’s dangerous for you.” He stood up, walking over to her, “Not only are you my wife but you could potentially be the mother of my children. Children who might one day rule after me.” He held her close and kissed her forehead, “They will use you to get to me, the Illyrian is just a security measure.”

“Are you ready to come to bed?” She said, jerking her chin towards his desk.

He looked behind him with a weary look. “Very much so.” Grabbing her hand he walked with her back to their room. Cassian was still there, standing by the door. They entered the room silently, not saying anything.

Ditching their clothes they crawled into bed and curled up under the blankets, praying for a good night’s sleep. After all, the ball was the next day. They would need to be ready for what was in store.

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

Nesta sat on the bed, putting on her heels, watching Eris get dressed. They had already been delayed a bit after a repeat of last night, multiple times. Now she had other things to consider.

“This ball, everyone there is going to be watching us, watching you.” She mused.

“Yes.”

“Will your mother be coming? I haven’t seen her around since I killed Beron.”

He turned towards her, “She has left the Autumn Court. My father always suspected that she was unfaithful. As it so happens, he was correct.”

“So where is she now?”

He shook his head, “I have no idea. She wouldn’t tell me in case someone found out and used that information against us.”

Nesta stood up, her dress fully visible, every intricate detail on display. She wore a floor length gown, the color of blood, that had long sleeves and a plunging neckline that had the tiniest black diamond at the junction. On each of her wrists, at the very end of the sleeves were even more tiny diamonds. The skirt of her dress had a slit up to her hip that gave a glimpse of creamy skin with every step she took. Her hair was up in a braided updo with gold threaded through it, catching the light.

“You look like a goddess.”

Her power surged through her veins, reminding herself that she was indeed a goddess.

In awe he murmured, “Your eyes.”

Her silver eyes stared back at him. He raised a hand to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing the soft skin. Gazing into her eyes with an expression of reverence.

“They are so beautiful.” He held his palm to hers, letting her power feel his. Cold, icy silver death meeting a blazing golden warmth. They intertwined, visible tendrils of power twisting around their joined hands. The both stared in amazement, pulling away slightly before joining their other two hands, becoming a circuit of power. Feeling each others’ power surging through them, coursing through their veins, was a high they never wanted to come down from. Finally, they did, shaken from their spell when a noise was heard behind the door. People were arriving.

It was almost time to go.

“Are you ready?”

“Almost. Just one last thing.” Eris summoned a box that, upon opening, revealed a crown of woven gold that had formed into leaf details. Tiny black diamonds were encrusted on them, glinting in the candlelight. He held it up above her head, delicately placing it atop her brow. Her beauty could bring him to his knees.

Together they walked to the entrance of the ballroom, Cassian trailing behind. Any stragglers had already been shown in the halls empty. They stood before the main doors, hand in hand.

“Ready?” She asked.

“Yes, you?”

She squeezed his hand, “Born ready.”

Using his powers he pushed open the doors, revealing everybody waiting for their arrival.

In that moment they were no longer Nesta and Eris, they were Lady Death and the High Lord of the Autumn Court.

[cabe0512]

An Encounter with a Certain Witch, an excerpt of The Curse of Darkness - Chapter 1.

"Hello?" Hector awoke to the distant sounds of a woman's voice. "Is someone there?"

He slowly opened his eyes, to meet the tiny rays of sunshine spilling through the trees above him. His body was terribly wounded from the fight, his muscles ached as he tried to move. He yelped from the pain, enough to summon a woman slipping through the trees.

As Hector's eyesight was still a hazy blur, he couldn't make out the image of the woman right in front of him. But her slim complexion, a flowing cloak trailing behind her dark cloak, reminded him a lot of someone.

"... Lenore?" He murmured, but his guess was wrong.

Now the woman was right next to him and the details couldn't be any more clearer. Her body was covered in a leaf green cloak, with curly locks of pale gold hair escaping the long hood over their face.

She quite slowly touched his bloody torso with her pale hand; it was warm and soft, but the touch itself was to make Hector wince from the pain of his wounds. The woman was startled by his sudden reaction, but immediately brushed it aside.

"Forgive me," she whispered. Her voice might as well what angels might've sounded like, Hector mused. "Hold still," she said again.

The woman touched his chest again, but Hector tried to swallow the pain. She planted her fingers firmly at the skin, her touches were slim but tender, as light as a lovely pillow.

Hector should've been cautious of this woman, maybe even try to brush her off him. But it wasn't his wounds that tempered his hand. It was something else, an aura emanating in this woman, he couldn't see it but he could feel himself being more calm and safer in her presence.

Unusual, Hector thought. His mind was in a frantic pickle ever since leaving Styria behind. His journey has been marked with endless danger, every day is always a battle to survive. But here, he wearily dropped his vigilant guard and felt nurtured by her presence.

The witch began to utter a prayer. As she recited those sacred words, her hand was started glow a bright green light. Hector watched in both horror and intrigue as his wounds slowly began to sew itself shut until it became a faint scar, only for the scar itself to disappear into his skin as if a dagger wasn't lodged in there just moments ago.

She then removed her hood and it was enough to make Hector gasp. While her hair flowed down to her chest with flower petals adorning her locks, her face from the forehead to the eyes was marred with nasty scars and burn marks.

And her eyes themselves, a glassy ghostly white, saw deeply into the distance and nowhere else. Even with these deformities, her smile on her upon realizing his stability was the prettiest that Hector had ever seen.

Even in his years as a Forgemaster, there was no explanation for this kind of magic. For the first time in a long while, Hector was deathly afraid of this certain witch. Then again, she seemed to have no ill intent as the spell she cast on his wound completely healed it from the Pirate's grievous attack.

"Thank you..." Hector asked her, still in a delirious state. "Thank you but... who are you?"

Before the witch could answer his question, another woman burst out of the shrubbery. This one is a beautiful maiden around Hector's age, with hair of pale gold tied to a white ribbon behind her. Her cold purple eyes pierced through his soul when she stared at him, as if it was a wild mutt.

From stature alone, she looked eerily identical to the witch that healed him, like she would imagine what the green witch looked like if she weren't so burnt. They're twins, Hector deduced.

"Rosalie? There you are!" The other witch called out as soon as she saw them both in the corner. "Who is this man?"

"I found him here, Julia, but he is horribly wounded." Rosalie, as she was called, told her while she tended to the rest of Hector's wounds. "I managed to heal him, but his wounds are too great and too many. We have to bring him back to the cottage, please."

[radicheart]

@tales-of-two-draconia asked: At a local café in hell, the patrons and staff were happily enjoy the nice weather. Suddenly the air became deathly still and a foreboding aura seem to intensify as a figure walked by the window and to the door. The door opened slowly and there stood a tall, slender man with short light brown hair with the exception of his asymmetrical bang whose top layer was white while the underlayer was black and going down the bang was a singular red streak. It complemented his pale complexion, however his hands were black as night. His attire consisted of a white dress shirt under a red vest, then a high collared tail coat with angelic steel embroidering the collar and cuffs. His dark grey slacks were plain compared to his high heel boots, the heels of which were made of angelic steel. The thing that stood out was the angelic steel chains that wrapped around him and connected to three large locks on his back in the center of his spine. Why would someone like him have that on him? However, his most noticeable feature was his piercing emerald green eyes. They had a certain eerie glow to them. The man entered the establishment and approached the counter. No one moved a muscle.

Everyone else may be deathly still as this unknown figure entered the café, but not Alastor. He is sitting at a table off to the side, by himself, cup of coffee in one hand and a newspaper in the other. At first, he doesn't even look up, too absorbed in whatever he's reading to bother taking proper notice.

It's only when his ears twitch upon both the lack of ambient chatter and the clattering of chains that he tears his eyes away from the print on the page. He stares at the figure by the counter, unblinking and unmoving, watching him with a closed smile and mild curiosity.

Curious...

[buttersang]

HEYYY WHAT'S GOOD LIMBUS COMPANY BADDIESS

Good luck with the blog and everything limbus tumblr is cool, at least the ppl I've met. Always love to see fiction writers in the community too.

No clue what kind of fiction we're talking about so I'd like to request Funeral Yi Sang interacting with Funeral in any way I think that'd be cool :)

TY FOR THE REQUEST! I had no prior knowledge to funeral of the dead butterflies so thanks to you and a friend I did a research and observed as much as I can about the entity! And lobotomy corp, this sort of turned out to be a yi sang and reader (I totally didn't read this wrong I'm sorry..) but regardless I hope you like it !

trigger warning: dark themes

yi sang/ Clerk reader drabble

How long have you been here? time was an alienating concept..can't remember the last time you stared at the sun or gazed at the moon and stars, you've been looking at papers and documents all your life or for as long as you remember at least.. not like your memory functioned properly the blur gets worse with each breach that happened leaving you with the deep desire to disappear. but here you are reading through sickly words your mind can no longer comprehend...did it matter? who were you doing all this for? was there ever a person waiting for you. was there someone on the other side?

...the realization hit you like a truck, staring blankly at the white desk you seemed to spend most your time sitting on with all sorts of files scattered around it. the other clerks didn't seem to notice the piling panick seeping within you..probably lost in their own trance and suffering like the undead dragging their feet with them, despite it all they worked diligently like there is nowhere else in the world they rather be..employees they shall remain for eternity.

till the end of times..

you were unsure of what came upon you as you walked if not rushed to where the emergency pistol was at first frantic eyes stared at it waiting for answers. It molded into your hand perfectly. tailored to the grip.. strange comfort washed over as you held it and the devastating feeling of being in control if not for moment, must you wait for your demise like everyone else? in pain while teeth and claws teared your flesh when it can be as peaceful and instant as one singular bullet..fingers caressed the firearm with quiet thoughts being gentle on your soul for once. rising the gun for the cold muzzle to press against your head as you took a deep hitched breath followed with a couple more hysteric gasps signaling the tears streaming down your face with each sob filled with hopelessness. fear clawed against your skin trying to convince you that it was bad idea and you were just overwhelmed and needed to..rinse and repeat, rinse a repeat, rinse and repea— the horrifying alarm went off amplifying the urgency and danger that follows, you watched the clerks and workers begin to panick, some start to cry..it feels most alive when there's breach. deathly silent when it's not.

'Urgent , *XXXX* has escaped ! We need to—'

the announcement grew muffled in your ears your body refused to hear it. the hand holding the gun shaked erratically as the screeching voiced of an approaching entity got louder and louder your closed your eyes shut bracing yourself for a swift death but....nothing happened..? you didn't hear the sound of screams or cries. not the stomping foot steps or the fearful sounds of entities. cautiously your eyes opened meeting a figure standing beside you. bleary-eyes stared down at you as if it felt sorry for your state but if anything it was you who felt sorry for how lifeless those sable orbs looked at you. the man's complexion was pale akin to a ghost. you then realized his hand was on the gun you were holding , you didn't know what was going on so you just gave it away for him to hold, the man examined it briefly before putting it away and then he spoke "you wish for death to embrace you? despite the unknown." his question left you off gaurd but it's not like it wasn't obvious already what your intents was so you answered honestly,

yi sang hummed in acknowledgement with a distant expression before he walked away he didn't ask you to follow him but his eyes urged you to come along..so you both walked through empty corridors you looked around wondering where everyone was but he seemed unbothered. on his back was a black coffin engraved with white butterflies, so you asked, "What's with the coffin?" he seemed lost in his own thoughts till you striked the question and it didn't take a while for his lips to part, "It's where the souls rest..no more pain, no more fear." You liked the sound of that..no more fear..felt like music to your ears, you spent a pointless life slaving away for this corporation, and now you yearned to feel safe even if it's your last breath you had to take..

the path kept getting darker with each step you took until it was shrouded with in black, below your feet was a bed of white butterflies fluttering their wings as you walked through, it was beautiful..you smiled like you never have before running through the field of butterflies watching them scatter but remain in place, the man merely stared while you ran in cycles like a child, you were free...happy. After a while. you plopped down, catching your breathe and he joined you, placing the coffin down. this time, you noticed the faint smile on his face. You both stared at the void surrounding you, "...is it everything you wished for." his voice broke through the silence, unsure of what he meant, "is there nothing else?" Yi sang looked rather troubled and hesitantly shook his head..he brought a butterfly to your hand. a perfect veil of white with a dull yet steady light surrounding it.

"one shouldn't confine themselves with the feeble image of the afterlife...the beauty of death is as mundane as the silence that follows a funeral.." you didn't know how to explain how his voice was like a gentle wave passing through your soul, you don't remember laying down against him but you could no longer control your body no matter how hard you tried to move paralysed from the neck down, but he held you close for your worries to subside..maybe this was all a strange dream and you'll wake up in your desk any moment now so you enjoyed the embrace and mumbled, "would you ..be at my funeral.." oh.. words seemed to die at your throat as a mouthful of blood gushed out instead, you looked at him with wide panicked eyes as you gradually lost your senses, holding onto him tighter, he pressed a gentle hand against your face wiping the piled tears with his thumb. he soothed your scared gasps for air, your sight faded.. yet you could see his pained smiles and sad eyes, he pulled you close and whispered softly,

"yes..i will."

before it all went black..you didn't wake from the dreaming , you seemed to float endlessly in the void with no one to talk to or seek for comfort..not knowing that you've died a long time ago with your body sitting in that chair limbed and lifeless..along with whoever else that didn't survive the breach.

yi sang wiped the crimson off your face once you were gone before resting you inside the coffin and caressing your cold face..he kept his promise and stayed beside you till the funeral arrived and claimed your body, "Did resting their soul satisfy you? the way you couldn't rest your loved ones." The funeral's snarky tone caused the sinner to clench his jaw he didn't know how to answer that .. but it was true, he had to live with that guilt forever, with wings for a head you couldn't exactly tell what expression the funeral was making but its body language was dismissive, it had already got what it wanted so no point lounging around "maybe one day I'll free you as well."

I hope that was a good read. It was my first time getting to write yi sang in general, and I'm always open for more canon drabbles, not necessarily involving reader into it, I'm always open to whatever and I might write sinners headcanons maybe anyways kisses and hugs 🫂💕

[meepthemeeping]

Eskel X Coen fic quotes

Coen checked himself out in the mirror. He considered asking his group chat if the outfit was good, but he quickly felt too embarrassed to go through with it.

He'd been on dates before; he should know what looked nice. He wore a breezy button-up shirt and khaki pants… Coen laughed at his reflection. He hadn't been a teacher for years, yet he still dressed like one.

—-------------------------

Coen tried his best not to look at Eskel as he took off his shirt, but it was a struggle. To distract himself, he quickly turned his attention to the crows chasing each other around the field, their cawing filling the air. 

—------------------------

Coen blinked at the vast field stretching out before him.. Why hadn’t he thought to ask how big the farm was or how many birds there were?

He glanced back at his trunk, where only four bird feeders lay nestled among bags of birdseed. It was painfully clear that this wouldn't be enough.

After a long, contemplative pause, he asked, “Think they like wheat?”

Eskel, standing beside him, gave a smirk that made Coen’s heart flutter. “Why don’t we find out?” he replied, his eyes sparkling with a of amusement.

—-------------------

Eskel looked around the office, frowning. Gaetan was supposed to be here by now. Glancing down the hall, he noticed Guxart’s office door was ajar, with the light still on. Odd. There was no sound of movement, no rustling of papers, nothing.

A growing sense of unease propelled him forward. He stepped into the office. His heart skipped a beat when he saw Guxart slumped face down on the desk, completely still. 

“Shit,” Eskel muttered under his breath, rushing over to check for any sign of life. 

—--------------

Guxart lay in the hospital bed, his complexion deathly pale. He hadn’t regained consciousness since his heart started beating again. Eskel had barely managed to save his life…

Aiden sat beside Lambert, both of them eerily silent. Aiden's gaze was fixed on his stepdad, his eyes filled with exhaustion.

—-----------

“Are you sure Vesemir would be okay with that?” Aiden asked, his eyes fixed on Guxart, watching his chest slowly rise and fall.

“I’ll talk to him about it,” Eskel replied. Those two had known each other since their army days, so maybe it wouldn’t be too much of a stretch to have Vesemir ensure Guxart got enough rest to heal. He knew Aiden’s old man wouldn’t sit the fuck still, even if you paid him.

—------------

Aiden's hair was tied up in a messy bun, with loose strands sticking out everywhere, hinting he hadn’t bothered with it since yesterday. Dark circles shadowed his eyes. He wore an oversized, wrinkled sweater and ill-fitting jeans that looked like they came straight out of Lambert's closet, mismatched and hastily chosen.

No one commented on his appearance. Eskel had keen eye for recognizing downward spirals.

[harveybwabbit92]

[Audrey is talking with a strange tattooed woman she met in the ink world, The woman's name is Carol-Valley Maine and she's been trapped in the ink world for months...The two ladies get to talking (While Bendy crawls around Valley trying to look at her Tattoos) they get on the subject of fears .]

Audrey: So you're afraid of Airplanes?

Valley: Yep..

Audrey: Why?

Valley:...um

[Flash back in time to Valley as a little girl with her mother Irene on a sightseeing trip of a cornfield in the Midwest. ]

Irene, holding her daughters hand: This is what a cornfield looks like, honey

Valley, looking around in awe: Oh.

[A fast approaching buzzing of plane propellers is heard as a crop duster comes into view flying low and attacks Valley and Irene with machine gun fire. Irene and Valley and start running.]

Irene and Valley: AUGH!

[Cut back to the present; Audrey and Bendy are staring at her in shock.]

Audrey: Ok, that would definitely put the fear flying machines in me, among other things....

----

~::Small character bio About my oc Valley Maine under cut::~

Carol Valley Maine is a P.I. who is actually the grand daughter of Sammy Lawrence, who recently got a job as a voice actress/singer at Archgate animations, she was investigating Sammy's disappearance to see if he really did run off with Susie Campbell like her grandmother says or if something else had happened to him? Her hope was to get access to some of the old Drew studio employee records and archives. However she soon finds out the truth when Wilson figured out who she was and what she was doing there.

He tricked her under the guise of helping her and fed Valley to the Ink machine, but it didn't kill her, instead she woke up in the farmers Market very much alive and with strange tattoo like markings all over her body that give her odd powers over her inky surroundings.

How she did she get these powers?

Well, see when Valley's grandmother (Rosalynne) who was unknowing pregnant with Valley's mother (Irene) had accidentally consumed some of the demonic ink when she drank some of Sammy's coffee which he had spiked with ink, aside from feeling a little ill the ink would seemingly have no effects on Valley's grandma or her unborn baby... Even after Irene was born and growing into adulthood there was nothing out of the ordinary with her...

then Valley was born right off the bat the child was odd, what with her deathly pale complexion, dark almost black brown eyes and inky black hair. She didn't really resemble parents much which caused friction between them.

With her father believing her mother had an affair while her mother believed the hospital had switched babies on them, but as she grew up Valley's black hair fell out turning the same shade as her father's ginger hair, her complexion turned more olive and her eyes seemed to lightened to a mossy green like her mothers, putting her parents suspicions to rest... but that didn't mean the marriage was good, it was still very rocky.

Valley's father was very short-tempered and spoiled man when things didn't go his way he'd take it out on the family. one of these tantrums became so bad that Valley's mother suffered a complete breakdown sending her into a catatonic state and was shortly admitted to a mental facility while Valley was sent to live with her grandmother as the family didn't trust her father with her up bringing, Valley would grow up watching re-runs of old Bendy cartoons and eventually learning from her grandma about her family's heritage and her connection with Sammy Lawrence.

Now trapped in the Ink world she does her best to survive, avoiding the ink demon and helping people when she can, she even opened another P.I. office helping solve cases for for any Lost ones who aren't too far gone in madness, Porter is letting Valley crash in one of his safe houses they have sibling like relationship. She meets Bendy at some point and the little Imp seems very attached to her often following her around on cases or helping her do supply runs.

[Notes: Valley, her mother and her grandmother are named after songs. Her grandmother's name Rosalynne Summers comes from the "The last Rose of Summer" by Thomas Moore, Her mother's name Irene comes from "Goodnight Irene by Huddie 'Lead belly' Ledbetter". While Valley's real name Carol comes from "Carol of the bells" and her middle name comes from "Peace in the Valley" by Thomas A. Dorsey.]

[aller-geez]

Get to know: Rexar Fang

29 // he/him // Straight // Pasanta (Catalan urban legend)

Full name: Rexar Fang

Nickname: Rex

Date Of Birth: June 22nd

Big Three: Cancer 🌞 Libra 🌝 Scorpio ↗️

(under construction!!!!)

Physical Appearance —

Age: 29

Eye Color: Red centers with a grey outer ring

Hair Color: Grey with red bangs

Weight: 162 pounds

Height: 6’4

Race: Pasanta (a Catalan Urban Legend that describes them as huge terrifying canines with flames for eyes that comes into peoples homes at night and sits on their chest while they’re asleep, causing breathing problems as well as horrible nightmares)

Distinguishing Marks or Characteristics: Rexar has deep red freckles, and a pale complexion. He has two bridge piercings, both cheekbones (Anti-eyebrow), as well as a piercing in the center of his bottom lip. He constantly has a thin stream of smoke coming from both nostrils that smells of burning maple wood, and it relaxes whoever smells it. Some of his relatives use this trait for malicious things, however Rexar has no interest in killing.

Personality —

Greatest Strength: His pyromancer abilities

Greatest Weakness: his love for his girlfriend, Kriia may sometimes cloud his judgement, causing him to act irrationally.

Soft Spot: Kriia

Mannerisms: Friendly, and outgoing. Golden Retriever personality. Gets along with Remington, and even has somewhat a rivalry going with him. Extremely loving and devoted boyfriend to Kriia, who is pretty much in charge in their relationship.

Miscellaneous Trivia —

Rexar’s family all masquerade as simple Pyromancers, as revealing their true species could end up in their demise. They are very well known and extremely wealthy, leaving Rexar very well off in their huge estate.

In his free time, he is a Trap Metal artist who produces his own music, using one of the guest houses on his property as a studio that he records in as well as occasionally jamming with friends. He goes to local shows and events where he sometimes will preform.

Rexar is also widely known as an experienced marijuana grower. He has converted some of the acreage in his family’s huge estate they had left for him into grow buildings and fields where he grows and cultivates medical marijuana that gets sold to clubs all over, and locally on the street by his girlfriend.

Sneeze Content —

ALLERGIES

Any smoke that isn’t produced by his body

How severe are they?

Not extremely severe but they do cause near instant fits. These can be dangerous if they are unexpected, as every time he sneezes it produces some kind of flame. Stifles only produce sparks/embers, but full bodied sneezes have almost a flamethrower effect.

Do they get sick often?

He does have a crappy immune system, although no where near Remington’s. He can even sometimes deflect Remi’s germs due to his extreme body temperature.

How bad is it usually?

Part of his must have items for whenever sick is a fire extinguisher, as fires tend to happen frequently when Rexar is sick. He tends to get seemly deathly ill for only a day or two, but his body naturally sweats it out. If he is sick and his nose is too stuffy for any smoke to exit, it will divert to his mouth, with a small fraction leaking from his eyes, making them constantly water.

Do they stifle?

If out in public or otherwise somewhere flames wouldn’t be appreciated, he’ll stifle, as to only have to worry about any embers that may fall afterward.

How loud are their sneezes?

Not very loud. He tends to naturally quiet them due to the huge flames that decimate everything in front of him.

What do they sneeze into?

His hands usually, as they are by nature, flame retardant, although sometimes an unusually large sneeze or a longer than usual fit can result in some burns.

How often do they sneeze?

Isn’t usually a frequent sneezer, as the smoke that constantly flows from his nostrils seems to almost numb his sinuses.

How many times do they sneeze in a fit?

3 is almost always guaranteed. If he stops at 2, you know there’s a 3rd coming sometime soon after.

Do they have build-ups or are they sudden?

Both. Sometimes he’ll have warning with a short buildup, other times he’s caught completely off guard with no chance to stifle them.

Do they sneeze in public?

Not if they can help it, although some are bound to slip sometimes. He will automatically try to stifle them, however.

Some examples of their sneezes?

etCHXIEW!!

heT’CHXOO!!

H'uSSHhhiew!

et’tCHOO!!

Backstory —

(coming soon..)

Reference Sheet —

[g0ttal0ve101]

Confession

Note: RIAM ATTACK 💥💥 ok but seriously I haven’t written anything in weeks bc I’m deathly ill soooo here’s this to make up for it! TW: domestic abuse, kidnapping, obsessive behavior.

████████████████████

“You fucking anorexic whore!”

One more drink should cast the thought away for good this time. At least, that’s what Riley kept telling herself. Cup after cup, song after song, she found herself almost too drunk to even think straight. That was fine. It was better than thinking about him going off with another girl.

The booze took away from the pain of her bruise planted underneath her eye, but it didn’t help her escape from the looks she kept getting from the other guests at the party. She figured she must have looked awful — Many others would beg to differ. Even with that nasty purple wound on her pale complexion, she was one of the prettiest girls of Woodlyn High. With eyes that resembled a meadow after sweet spring rain and hair the color of ravenous flames, it was hard not to spare a glance or two. Although, Jordan didn’t seem to think that. And if he didn’t care to look at her, she knew that she wasn’t worth looking at.

“Hey.”

God, that voice was painfully familiar. Turning her head in the direction of the sound, she let out a soft groan. “Huh?”

There she saw Thomas Hall — The valedictorian of her grade and host of this party. He leaned over her like a hawk preying upon its next meal with a sick grin plastered on his face. She knew whatever was going to be said or done wasn’t going to be good. Trying desperately to think of a way out, she notably took in her surroundings again. He chuckled from the sight.

“You single?”

“Fuck off, Thomas…”

“No, seriously. Did Jordan break up with you?”

There was a pause for a brief moment or two. Putting the brim back to her lips and chugging down the rest of the alcohol contained within it, she prayed to God that she wouldn’t say something she’d ultimately regret.

It was almost inevitable once she opened her mouth. “For now, yeah…mmh, to go out with ‘nother bitch tonight. He’ll be back tomorrow…” Her words slurred together miserably as she became almost incomprehensible.

Thomas sat down beside her, presumably locking into the conversation. Only then did she see his three friends behind him; David Nixon, Freddy Brooks, and Charlie Allen. It seemed like her future was getting darker and darker as time progressed. It wasn’t a good idea to get involved with these guys. Once they have even a little piece of information to hold above your head, they’ll be able to control your every move. That must be what they’re trying to accomplish right now. Riley scoffed from the thought.

“Well, y’know…I’ve always had the hots for you, Riley.” Thomas hummed, grabbing her empty cup to pour stronger alcohol inside. She had almost forgotten she was sitting in the kitchen by herself where all the drinks were. However, she didn’t recognize this brand. It must be expensive. “My door’s always open.”

“Fuck you and your door.” She spat right back at him, snatching the cup from his hand and taking a hesitant sip. “I won’t fuck on a pussy ass momma’s boy. Skip me on that.”

That description he heard of himself made his smile widen. She rejected him. That made this even more fun. “Isn’t Jordan a momma’s boy? I figured you just had a type. Anyway though, wanna go bust him and that slut?”

Her eyes turned to saucers. “What…?”

“They’re fucking in her car right now.” The rasp in his voice grew thicker as he grew more eager for her reaction. “Don’t you wanna show them who’s in charge, Riley? Don’t you want him back?”

All those words rubbed her in all the right ways. If she were sober, she could’ve seen through his cunning tactics. However, she couldn’t even see straight anymore, so there was no way of indicating anything was astray. She believed him without a second of a doubt.

Standing up wasn’t so easy. Placing her weight on her feet and stumbling forward, she crashed into a chair immediately. It wasn’t until Thomas grabbed a hold of her that she managed to fix her posture.

“Get off me.” Riley snapped, shoving him away as harshly as she could in the moment. It felt like her body was moving in slow motion. The alcohol surely did numbers in her. Once she felt his hands on her again, she raised her voice. “I SAID GET THE FUCK OFF ME, YOU STUPID MANWHORE! GOD!”

His laughter indicated he got the reaction he wanted all along. It made her sick to her stomach to think about. The trek began shortly after without another word exchanged between them.

People. Lights. Music. Everything disorientated the drunk girl entirely. She made sure to keep her eyes on Thomas while navigating her way through the crowd, but every now and then she believed she spotted Jordan in the crowd and lost her focus. When that happened, Charlie continued to shove her forward. She was too tired to scold him. Besides, she knew that he was only doing that because he wanted Thomas’s approval.

“Where’s the car?” Her voice murmured as she nearly knocked into an innocent bystander. “Mmh…I don’t gotta nice knife on me…only this shitty pocket one.”

The back door opened. December air smacked against their faces as they stepped out onto the porch. Although it was so cold, Riley felt warmer and lighter than ever. The thought of killing this bitch became more prominent and exciting to the point she trembled a bit with each step. Bliss that overwhelmed her systems suddenly grew sour as Thomas turned to face her, clearly having some sort of ace up his sleeve. She was too drunk to care. All she wanted was to beat this girl’s ass for touching Jordan in ways Riley could never hope to.

“Okay, I’ll deal with the bodies after you’re done.” Thomas bubbled as the two of them started down the steps. It was only then that she noticed the other three guys weren't following along. It freaked her out a little but the alcohol in her system, again, drowned out the worries. “I mean, you’re gonna kill Jordan too, right?”

With a scoff, she flicked out the pocket knife. “No.”

That wasn’t the answer he was expecting. Raising an eyebrow and scanning the driveway area for her car, he pondered his thoughts out loud. “But he cheated on you and beat your ass. Don’t you think that's—?”

Sticking her index finger against his chest and getting in his face, she drunkenly blabbered. “Shut the hell up, Thomas! Having sex with some girl don’t mean shit! He still loves me! He still loves me...” Her voice trailed off as she desperately tried to convince herself that was the case. Thomas simply observed her behavior with a smug grin.

“No, he doesn’t. He doesn’t and that’s okay. I have a client who’ll be more than willing to show you the love you deserve.”

Her eyes darted toward him and in that second, she almost saw the look of empathy on his face. However, as quickly as that expression came, it went. David snatched her up from behind and shoved a cloth drenched in chloroform across her mouth and nose, tightly gripping her so she couldn’t squirm away. Thomas had thought she was pretty before but with that horrified expression, she looked absolutely stunning.

“It’s okay, don’t fight it! David’s not a pervert or anything. Well, at least not toward girls—!”

“Shut the fuck up before I knock you out next...” David grumbled, knowing damn well she might be acquainted with Lucian. (Which was more or less the reason why he was being so gentle with her.)

With a harsh shove to the back, Riley found herself being throttled into the backseat of a beat-up car. Only then did she understand that this was all a set up. Jordan wasn’t out here at all. In fact, he was probably at home with a bitch he found at the party already. Tears welled in her eyes from the thought. Although, it didn’t do her any good to cry.

████████████████████

By the time Riley regained consciousness, she had forgotten what happened. She figured she was in her own bed, falling behind on making breakfast for her little brother. For that reason alone, she got up despite her rough hangover and began stumbling around the dimly lit room to get changed. She reached for her dresser only to see her reflection staring right back at her — A mirror.

But she didn’t have any mirrors in her room.

“You’re awake.”

Riley let out a sharp gasp and nearly collapsed onto the piece of furniture, trying to decipher the dark figure standing by the door. The sound of its lock sealing echoed throughout the room.

Her immediate response was to grab the pocket knife from her jacket. However, when her hand went to tuck itself away and search for it, she found that her jacket was missing. Not only that, but so were her pants and shoes. Her heartbeat rang throughout her eardrums.

“A-Are you scared?” The voice grew soft and shaky. All the fear that she felt once before became a bit muffled whenever hearing the silhouette’s tone. “D…Don’t be scared. I hope T-Thomas didn’t hurt you…” Approaching her, Riley finally saw his face.

“Or he’d be breaking the deal.”

Beyond confused, Riley’s shoulders drooped and her eyebrows furrowed. “Sam…? Sam, is that you?”

Sam, one of Riley’s only friends, stood before her. Grasping onto his sweater and swallowing against the lump in his throat, he nodded sheepishly. “Yeah. Yeah, it’s m…me.”

There was a brief pause. Sam’s mind spiraled in circles as he tried to muster out the words he wanted to assure her with. Even knowing that this could be Sam’s doing, Riley waited patiently for him to get out what he needed to say. And for that reason, he couldn’t help but feel more attracted to her.

“I-I want y-yuh…you to be m…” Clenching his eyes shut and lowering his head, he couldn’t bear to look her in the eye. “…my girlfriend! Please be my girlfriend, Riley!”

Her eyes widened like saucers. This was the first time she had ever received a confession like this. The only reason she and Jordan were dating was because she begged him to be her boyfriend. That’s why whenever she saw Sam like this, she couldn’t help but see herself.

“Sam…”

“I put poison in Jordan’s drink last night. He’s in critical condition at the hospital.” His voice went monotone, thick and dull. All emotion he once had completely drained away. “I’m the only one with the antidote. If you don’t break up with him I-I’ll let him fucking die. I’ll let him die, Riley, and he’s gonna hurt.”

Even when saying such horrible things, Riley was astonished by the glint of pure obsession embedded in his irises. He loved her. Even if they hardly spoke before this, even if this was the first time she truly locked eye contact with him, he loved her more than Jordan ever did.

“…Okay.”

“Wh…What?” Sam’s voice shook as he snapped out of his state of delusion. He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. No, not even that — He couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

Riley was smiling ear to ear. She didn’t look hurt or upset or anything. Rather, she appeared to be in utter bliss from the threat. Laughter escaped her throat as she held herself tight. “Okay! I’ll break up with him and get with you. That’s fine. So, get the antidote to him.”

Blinking in utter disbelief, Sam took a step or two backward. “A-Are you ser—?”

“You have no idea how serious I am.” She hummed, closing her eyes and lowering her head. “I’d do anything for him. Anything at all. So if that means I have to break up with him to save him, I will. So, please. Please give him the antidote, Sam.”

That wasn’t the reaction he was expecting. Balling his hand into a fist instinctively, repulsion overwhelmed his system. “Do you really love him that much e-even after…all he’s done to you?”

“I do.” Riley murmured, almost ashamed. “Is that really such a bad thing? Everyone treats me like a whore because I let him do whatever he wants to me, but isn’t that what love is? To sacrifice and devote yourself to them? Wouldn’t you do the same?”

Sam blinked in disbelief for a moment or two before averting his gaze elsewhere. “I wouldn’t h-hit you, Rie.”

Those words sent a shock wave through her system. Even if he avoided her eyes, she stared through his soul and listened intently.

“I’d never hit you,” he continued while clenching at the ends of his sweater. “I’d never call you names, I’d n-never make you cry, I’d never abandon you, a…and I’d never let anyone hurt you! When was the last time he’s h…eld you, that he told you how p-p…pretty you are? Riley…Riley, that’s what love is!”

Tears rolled down her cheeks, although she wasn’t sure why. All she could do was laugh and wipe them away, knowing that what Sam had said was the truth. It hurt. But in the same breath, she was in pure bliss knowing that someone cared enough to answer her.

Wiping away her tears with the sleeve of his sweater, Sam leaned in close to her figure. “I want to show you th…that, Riley. Please let me treat you h-how he should’ve been treating you this entire t…ime.”

Riley couldn’t help but blush whenever he progressed toward her. If he kept it up, they’d be in kissing range sooner than later. She wasn’t opposed to the idea. Although, she was a bit nervous to be jumping from one man to the next.

Sparing a glance or two at his lips, she found her self control and took a step back. When seeing his stunned expression, he avoided his acid eyes at all costs. “Sam…”

Respecting her boundaries and laying off the pressure, he rewarded her with personal space and tried his hardest to keep the disappointment off his face. After all, he understood it wasn’t her fault. Jordan was the one to blame for her hesitance.

“Sorry. Sh-Sh…ouldn’t rush things.” Sam murmured, although his face told another story.

While she knew she wasn’t in danger, Riley couldn’t help but feel the heat against the back of her neck growing in size. Wanting to clarify her reasoning behind not indulging in his affection, she found herself stammering just as he does. “If Jordan ever found out…”

Jordan. Jordan, Jordan, Jordan. That’s all she ever wanted to talk about. Had he really captivated her heart that much? There weren't any redeeming qualities Sam could pick out for a reason as to why Riley would care for him so dearly; He had an average face, a horrible attitude, and no sense of loyalty whatsoever. So, why? Why did Riley love him so much?

Lost in thought, Riley remained quiet. It wasn’t until Sam grasped her face and caressed the wound underneath her eye that she snapped out of the delusion.

“You deserve so much more than that, Riley. Don’t you get it?” His voice was gentle and reassuring. Despite knowing that he wasn’t going to hurt her, she still couldn’t help but flinch from his words. “I’m sure you don’t. That’s why I’ll…I’ll…I’ll teach you.”

“T-Teach me?”

“It’s not as scary as it sounds.” Sam chuckled, releasing her from his grasp and gazing at his shaky hands. “As long as you trust me.”

[shiveringsoldier]

WIP fic about Merry paying Frodo a visit on the third anniversary of Weathertop

Merry winced as he got dressed. His battle-scarred arm had gone stiff, making movement difficult.

     For a few minutes he did a small, gentle exercise. It had helped in the past when his arm acted up, and it helped again this time.

     It was thanks to Frodo that he knew this exercise. Frodo had shown it to him after learning of the wound he had suffered, saying that it helped immensely when he felt muscle soreness in his shoulder.

     As he thought of Frodo, Merry realized it had been some while since they had seen one another. It seemed a pleasant autumn day, one suitable for traveling. Perhaps he would travel over to Bag End and pay Frodo a visit.

     Glancing at his calendar, Merry grew in determination to see his cousin. It was the sixth of October. Three years earlier, their company stopped for the night at Weathertop.

Smoke came from the chimney at Bag End. Merry took encouragement at the sight. It meant Frodo was up, at least.

     But he then saw something that made his heart sink.

     Before their journey, autumn was Frodo’s favorite time of year. He spent many autumn days in the markets browsing farmers’ wares, or foraging for mushrooms, or simply taking walks in the woods. And when at home, he kept the windows wide open to let in the cool air. Now those windows were tightly shut.

     He knocked on the door. “Frodo?” he said. “It’s Merry. May I come in?”

     There was no response.

     He waited a few seconds, then knocked again. “Frodo, I know you’re there. I’m coming in, all right?”

“What do you say we take a walk? Fresh air often helps with my arm.”

     Frodo shook his head. “I can’t. It’s too cold.”

     “Let’s try for a few minutes. Two years ago, we were on our way home. We traveled all day, not stopping until nightfall. You managed all-day travel. What’s a few minutes?”

     Frodo sighed, defeated. “All right. I’ll try.”

     As Frodo went to get a cloak, Merry added, “If you feel worse, just say the word and we’ll turn around. I won’t press you. I promise.”

A cool autumn breeze greeted the hobbits as they set foot outside. Frodo halted but worked up the strength to keep going.

     In the sunlight, Merry fully saw just how sickly Frodo looked. His complexion was deathly pale, his eyes glassy and unfocused. He already regretted pressing Frodo to do this.

     They were about halfway to the Party Tree when Frodo suddenly stopped. He looked even paler than before, and he took ragged breaths.

     Merry went closer to him, and before he could ask what was wrong, Frodo swayed, clutching weakly at Merry’s arm. Merry couldn’t support his weight as Frodo sank to the ground.

     Frodo was unconscious for only a few seconds, but he had beads of sweat on his forehead when he regained consciousness, and he looked paler still. “I’m sorry,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “I … I don’t know what came over me.”

     “It’s all right,” Merry said. He knew he should be the one to apologize. This wouldn’t have happened if he hadn’t talked Frodo into taking a walk. But that would have to wait. The tears he wanted to shed would do nothing to help. “Can you walk?”

     “I think so.”

     Merry helped him to his feet and locked arms with Frodo’s uninjured arm. Frodo may have had the strength to walk unassisted, but after that episode Merry had no interest in leaving that to chance.

     Frodo was shivering by the time they returned to Bag End. Merry sat him down in the parlor and grabbed a blanket from the linen closet.

     “Frodo, I’m sorry,” he said, trying to start a fire. “You were in no state for this. I should’ve known.”

     Frodo didn’t answer.

     Merry turned to look at him. Frodo had a distant look in his eyes, as if he was looking at something beyond the horizon. He had had the same look on the first anniversary.

     “It hurts,” Frodo said. He spoke so quietly that Merry thought he’d imagined it.

     “But you will feel better. Tomorrow you will feel better. That’s what happened before.”

     “But then I will get worse again. And I will keep getting worse. It will never heal—I will never heal.

     “It feels as if shards of ice are in my bones. There is no melting them.” He put his hand on his shoulder, but lightly, as if he feared that his own touch would pain him. “It’s so cold. I’m always cold. I will never be warm.”

     Frodo’s eyes remained dry as he spoke. Merry wondered if he had no tears left.

Merry put his hand on his cousin’s forehead, as he had three years earlier when he was freshly wounded. It was cool to the touch, but not cold. Something told him Frodo’s left hand would be another story, and he decided not to find out.

[animanganerd]

Everything Annoys Me And I’m (Too) Hot - Chapter 10

The Untamed / Mo Dao Zu Shi Fanfic

Ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47881336/chapters/124234165

All chapters: here x

Chapter 10 ❖ Cheating doesn’t count as a solution

During their stay at a hot spring inn, Wei Wuxian thought that a relaxing bath would be the perfect opportunity to strike up a casual conversation. He burst into Lan Xiaoli’s room without knocking and exclaimed, “XiaoXiao! Let’s check out the hot springs together!”

The room was so tiny that it already felt cramped with only two people in it. Lan Xiaoli stood with his back to Wei Wuxian and, startled by his dad’s sudden entrance, had only turned his head to face him. After a moment of awkward silence, he finally said, “I do not want to.”

Wei Wuxian’s enthusiasm evaporated in a flash. “What? Why?”

“I am too old to share a bath with you!” Lan Xiaoli declared in a firm voice.

“Too–” Wei Wuxian narrowed his eyes in suspicion. Being too old to say “Daddy” or to give kisses on the cheeks, that he could understand, albeit begrudgingly. But there was no such thing as being “too old” to share a bath. Lan Xiaoli still wasn’t facing him, so he grabbed the teen by the shoulder and forcefully turned him around.

Before Wei Wuxian could object, the sight of his boy caused the words of complaint to get stuck in his throat, and his heart dropped heavily. It was the first time in a while he got a good look at Lan Xiaoli, and the situation was much worse than expected.

Lan Xiaoli’s features no longer matched his youth; it seemed he’d aged drastically in just a few months. His cheeks were sunken and all colour had vanished from his face. His sallow complexion was accentuated by the deep dark shadows under his eyes and his deathly pale lips.

As he stood huddled in Wei Wuxian’s grip, Lan Xiaoli’s entire demeanour resembled that of a wild animal caught by a hunter – wary of the situation, uncertain whether to trust or attack the other party, as flight was no longer an option.

Wei Wuxian’s throat was suddenly so dry that he had difficulty swallowing. His eyes fell on Lan Xiaoli’s fist tightly clutching the robe in front of his chest.

“What are you hiding?” Wei Wuxian asked. It took a lot of strength to keep his voice steady. The tremble of his hand, however, was impossible to hide.

“I–,” Lan Xiaoli quickly averted his gaze, “Nothing!”

Right before Wei Wuxian had entered, Lan Xiaoli had been checking the mark on his chest in the mirror next to his bed. It remained unchanged. Though he had figured out that it was a symbol of pledge, which bound him to the curse, he still didn’t know how to get rid of it.

“Let go!” he said, pushing Wei Wuxian away with his free hand.

Wei Wuxian was taken aback for a second, but immediately grabbed Lan Xiaoli by his robes and tried to yank them open. They struggled for a moment, until Lan Xiaoli stumbled backwards onto his bed and Wei Wuxian gained the upper hand, revealing the other’s bare chest.

Much to his dismay, Wei Wuxian noticed that the rest of Lan Xiaoli’s body was as gaunt as his face, and upon spotting the array on his chest, Wei Wuxian’s eyes widened in horror.

It confirmed what he had feared the most.

Seeing Lan Xiaoli’s frail appearance and the dark mark on his chest, his naive hopes were shattered to dust. Of course this wasn’t normal teenage behaviour. Of course the boy had been hiding something! He should’ve trusted his gut feeling right from the start.

“What is this?” he rasped.

Lan Xiaoli still refused to look at him. “Nothing. Do not worry about it.”

“Fine,” Wei Wuxian dropped Lan Xiaoli’s lapels in frustration, “I’ll get Lan Zhan.” He turned on his heel, heading for the door, but was yanked to an abrupt halt. Lan Xiaoli had grasped his wrist to pull him back.

“Don’t,” Lan Xiaoli pleaded in a husky voice, panic written all over his face. “...I will tell you if you promise to keep him out of this.”

Wei Wuxian cocked an eyebrow. “What makes you think we can’t make you talk?”

Lan Xiaoli stared at him, tightening the grip around Wei Wuxian’s wrist, until he finally replied, “If you leave this room I will burn the scroll.”

“Scroll...? So you did find something in the library of Lianhua?” Wei Wuxian asked, forcefully freeing his arm from the boy’s grasp, followed by a dull ache.

“Promise me,” Lan Xiaoli demanded with pleading eyes.

Wei Wuxian unconsciously rubbed his wrist. “Is it related to your sudden gain of spiritual powers?”

Lan Xiaoli steadfastly repeated, “Promise.”

As much as Wei Wuxian hated keeping a secret from Lan Wangji, he knew this was his only chance to make the boy spill the truth. Thinking about it, he might even be able to solve the problem himself, and the scroll might contain the information he needed for the solution. After some consideration, he finally sighed.

“Okay,” he held three fingers up, “I promise I won’t get him involved. Now, am I right?”

The tension vanished from Lan Xiaoli’s face, but the relief was quickly replaced by gloom. He lowered his gaze again and nodded.

“A-Li, oh A-Li… Just what have you done?” Wei Wuxian rubbed the bridge of his nose. “Show me the scroll.”

Lan Xiaoli obediently got up from his bed, removed the scroll in question from its (very bad) hiding place and handed it to his dad.

After a quick read-through, Wei Wuxian slapped the back of his hand against the scroll, and said, “It says right here you have to pay with your soul for your desire! Why would you do that?!”

Lan Xiaoli was quiet for a while. His mouth opened, as if the words were already there, but needed a little push to come out. Tears welled up in his eyes, and he grasped onto his bed frame.

His voice quivered when he finally spoke. “I… I thought I would have decades… I had no idea it would take only a few months to reach this point.”

“It doesn’t state a time period, what makes you think you’d have decades?”

Weary, Lan Xiaoli closed his eyes, tears now rolling down his cheeks. His hands tightened around the frame.

“It says it takes the soul bit by bit… I thought it meant over time. I thought… I thought it would fully consume my soul after death, and prevent me from getting reborn. That I would still be able to at least live this lifetime.” Lan Xiaoli’s voice got shakier with every word that left his mouth. Embarrassed by his own stupidity, he gnawed on his lower lip.

Wei Wuxian gently slapped the scroll across Lan Xiaoli’s head. “I find it hard to believe you truly thought this much about it. Why for heaven’s sake would you even consider doing such a thing in the first place? We raised you better than this!”

Lan Xiaoli’s eyelashes trembled, as if he wanted to look up but didn’t dare to. “I just wanted to protect you,” he said in a voice so low it barely resembled a whisper.

Stunned, Wei Wuxian pointed at himself. “Protect me?”

Lan Xiaoli pressed his lips together and nodded.

Wei Wuxian was rendered speechless. The thought that Lan Xiaoli felt the need to protect him seized his heart. But why would the boy think that? Did he really come across as that weak? Was it because he let Lan Wangji do all the work most of the time?

The rims of his eyes had also turned red. A bit overwhelmed, he could only brandish the scroll in front of Lan Xiaoli’s face and snap, “You wanted to protect me by putting yourself in danger?!”

Lan Xiaoli snivelled. “I am sorry…,” He then suddenly locked eyes with Wei Wuxian. “Please do not tell father. I will figure this out, I promise!”

Wei Wuxian paused, then sighed again. The sight of Lan Xiaoli’s desperate, tear-smeared face extinguished the flames of anger within him and replaced them with resignation. What was done, was done, being angry wouldn’t change anything.

“I already promised, didn’t I? But it’s not you who’s gonna figure this out.” He placed a hand on Lan Xiaoli’s shoulder and squatted down to be at eye-level with him. With an earnest expression, he continued, “We will figure this out together, got it? Let me help you find a cure.”

Lan Xiaoli wordlessly stared at Wei Wuxian for a moment before he agreed. Despite a new wave of tears, he mustered a tired smile. “Only if it does not involve eating your food…”

During his childhood, his dad would always cook up incredibly disgusting meals which served as “medicine” against any sickness. It tasted gruesome, but strangely enough, it always worked.

Wei Wuxian chuckled and pinched Lan Xiaoli’s nose, while scrunching up his own.

Gathering information about the curse while travelling with someone who wasn’t supposed to get wind of their current predicament turned out to be a harder endeavour than expected.

Wei Wuxian made sure to seek out Night Hunts near cities with large libraries, as they were more likely to have a wider variety of literature on different topics. 

He would then send Lan Wangji out to defeat the evil spirits, monsters, demons and such. The fiercer the better. This would buy Wei Wuxian and Lan Xiaoli enough time to pour over all the books on curses they could get their hands on. But they had to be quick, for as soon as Lan Wangji had finished the Night Hunt, Wei Wuxian couldn’t come up with a good enough reason to remain in the city any longer than necessary.

They currently were in such a city with a vast local library. Wei Wuxian’s lips were curled as he leafed through a book, using his free hand as a chin rest.

Lan Xiaoli, whose own research had yielded no results, joined him. He knelt on the chair next to Wei Wuxian, leaning his forearms on the wooden table to get a better look at the book in his dad’s hands.

From Wei Wuxian’s expression, Lan Xiaoli could already tell that his investigation had been fruitless as well, yet he still asked, “Found something?”

Wei Wuxian replied with an exasperated sigh and shook his head. “No…”

He never would’ve thought that this curse was so unheard of. Initially, he didn’t even want to waste any time on research, trying to come up with more creative solutions, just as he’d done in his previous life. But none of his ideas proved effective.

First he’d tried a classic curse removal, but the curse had repelled him. He’d certainly be able to overcome the repulsion, but he was afraid that if he used too much force, Lan Xiaoli might get harmed in the process. Since he didn’t know what kind of curse they were dealing with, he dropped the idea.

Transferring the curse to himself wasn’t an option either. For one, the curse had formed a strong bond with Lan Xiaoli due to the pact, which wasn’t easily broken. For another, Wei Wuxian had to begrudgingly accept that his own body would be too weak to contain it anyway.

Hence, they had no choice but to resort to research. To make matters more complicated, the curse Lan Xiaoli had inflicted on himself seemed to be exceptionally rare. Even after weeks of searching, they hadn’t found the slightest bit of information on how to break the pact nor on the curse itself.

Defeated, Wei Wuxian let the book fall shut, and massaged his throbbing temples. This library, though vast, was yet another dead-end.

“Why’d you have to pick such a difficult curse? I don’t know how much longer we can keep this from Lan Zhan. He’s probably already getting suspicious.”

Lan Xiaoli lowered his gaze, gloom clouding his expression. “Sorry…”

For Lan Xiaoli, the curse itself wasn’t even the worst part of this debacle. On the contrary, the constant migraine had turned into a dull background ache, like white noise in the form of pain. What truly burdened his heart was the fact that he’d dragged his dad into this mess.

Seeing Lan Xiaoli’s glum face, Wei Wuxian placed a hand on his shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. His complaint was in no way meant as an accusation. With another sigh, he said, “Well, if he finds out, he finds out.”

A warm smile played on his lips, before his expression abruptly changed. Unwavering determination flashed in his eyes as he continued in a voice full of conviction, “Either way, no matter how long it takes, we will find a cure. There has to be one.”

Lan Xiaoli blankly stared at Wei Wuxian for a moment.

Even though his dad was so obviously frustrated, even though the worry had left traces on his face, no matter how desperate and lost everything seemed, he always managed to plant a seed of hope.

Lan Xiaoli’s heart filled with awe and admiration, and he returned the smile. “Thank you.”

But despite all the optimism and confidence, it didn't help. Several towns later, their search for an answer remained unsuccessful. Instead, the condition of both worsened.

On one of their trips from one village to another, everything was fine – or as fine as everyone could pretend it to be.

Trying to remove the curse had left marks on both Wei Wuxian’s body and soul.

Just like Lan Xiaoli, he couldn’t prevent the weariness from being reflected in his appearance, and it pained Lan Xiaoli to see that the shadows under Wei Wuxian’s eyes almost matched his own. But unlike Lan Xiaoli, it was rather difficult for Wei Wuxian to avoid Lan Wangji without arousing suspicion, especially since they spent day and night together.

Wei Wuxian had never been more grateful that Lan Wangji never demanded an explanation from him; which didn’t make him feel any less guilty for keeping this secret.

Since Wei Wuxian’s exhaustion didn’t go unnoticed by Lan Wangji, Lil’ Apple had become an integral part of their continuous journey again. It was usually Wei Wuxian who rode the spotted donkey, with Lan Wangji holding the reins, closely followed by Lan Xiaoli.

Mentally and physically exhausted by the heavy burden, Wei Wuxian felt a little dizzy and had to hold onto Lil’ Apple for support.

He couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that they still hadn’t found a cure for the curse in weeks, nor that it would take him, of all people, so long to figure one out. With the constant frustration swirling in his mind, he suddenly felt a dull ache in his stomach. He broke into a cold sweat and  clutched his belly as his vision started to dim gradually.

Just as they were about to enter a short stretch of forest, Lan Xiaoli and Lan Wangji heard a muffled thud behind them. Surprised, they whipped their heads around, only to find Wei Wuxian lying prone on the ground. Both their hearts dropped, and they simultaneously called out.

“Wei Ying!”

“Dad!”

Lan Xiaoli ran over to pick him up, but Lan Wangji beat him to it. He blocked Lan Xiaoli’s helping hand and lifted Wei Wuxian off the ground.

Lan Wangji didn’t know what was going on, but he knew whatever caused Wei Wuxian to faint couldn’t be trivial. He already had a slight suspicion that Wei Wuxian’s condition was related to Lan Xiaoli, and to keep potential harm away from Wei Wuxian, he didn’t want the teen to touch him.

At least that’s how he tried to make sense of his inner turmoil.

All things considered, he couldn’t help but feel a little bitter that the other two were obviously hiding something from him. Seeing Wei Wuxian like this, that bitterness now created massive waves of anger, doubt, helplessness, confusion and so much more inside his heart, collapsing into each other before they grew anew. 

Yet, the pain he felt wasn’t reflected in his ever-expressionless face.

With long and fast strides, Lan Wangji carried Wei Wuxian to the nearest town at the other end of the forest, followed by Lan Xiaoli, who could barely keep up despite riding Lil’ Apple.

At the local tea house, Lan Wangji booked only one room. As long as Wei Wuxian was unconscious, he wanted the three of them to stay together.

The room was divided by a screen into a dining area and a resting area. After Lan Wangji had checked Wei Wuxian’s condition and tucked him into one of the beds, he took a seat pillow from the dining area to sit next to the bed, and started to meditate with his eyes closed.

Lan Xiaoli stood in front of Lan Wangji, nervously fiddling with his fingers. “Father…”

He felt the urgent need to justify himself, but it was no use. Lan Wangji had not spoken to him since Wei Wuxian had fainted, and Lan Xiaoli knew that once Lan Wangji entered meditation, he would shut out everything and everyone until he was ready to listen. All Lan Xiaoli could do now was wait for Wei Wuxian to wake up.

To pass the time, Lan Xiaoli went outside to test the limits of his spiritual energy. He wanted to see how much time and energy it took for the curse’s side-effects to kick in, and if there was any way he could curb them.

In his current state, it didn’t take much for the curse to strike. Since his spiritual powers were circulating non-stop through his body, he had a constant migraine, which he was already used to. But as soon as he poured some energy into his sword to use it, a sharp pain lanced through his brain, as if his head was split in two. The pain was so severe that Lan Xiaoli dropped his sword to press his hands against his temples. Drops of cold sweat dripped down his face.

With such a strong reaction to this little burst of energy, there was no way Lan Xiaoli could continue to go on Night Hunts.

But Lan Xiaoli was determined to fight the curse. Over the next few days he tried different uses of his spiritual energy, making a note of what kind of pain they caused and to what extent. And every day after practice, he made sure to check on his dads.

When Lan Xiaoli once again went to check on Wei Wuxian a couple of days later, he found that the latter wasn’t in bed anymore – which could only mean one thing!

Overjoyed, Lan Xiaoli tossed his sword aside and dashed around the screen that separated the room in two. His smile immediately froze and his heart almost stopped at the scene before him.

Lan Wangji sat at the table in lotus position, meditating, nothing new. What truly shocked Lan Xiaoli was Wei Wuxian, who was kneeling on a pillow opposite Lan Wangji with a sulky expression, his head bowed and his hands on his knees. He had never looked more like a boy in trouble, about to be punished.

The first thing Lan Wangji had done when Wei Wuxian had regained consciousness was to check his pulse. After he’d made sure that Wei Wuxian was unharmed, Lan Wangji let him wordlessly feel his discontent. He wasn’t so much upset that Wei Wuxian had kept a secret, but rather that he’d let it affect his health.

Wei Wuxian wanted to explain right away, but the moment he opened his mouth, Lan Wangji closed his eyes as if he’d entered meditation. This was a clear sign that he’d refuse to listen to Wei Wuxian until Lan Xiaoli returned.

Walking in on this scene, Lan Xiaoli knew they were waiting for him, and seeing Wei Wuxian like this, he instantly understood they had royally fucked up. He stiffly stepped past Wei Wuxian and let himself down on the empty pillow that had already been laid out for him.

After a long while of silence, Lan Wangji finally opened his eyes and asked in a calm tone, “What is going on?”

An overwhelming heaviness promptly descended upon Lan Xiaoli’s heart. There was no point in hiding the truth anymore, but neither him nor Wei Wuxian dared to speak first.

Their heads still inclined, the two of them looked at each other, communicating through their eyes only.

Wei Wuxian subtly nodded into Lan Wangji’s direction, indicating for Lan Xiaoli to speak, but Lan Xiaoli responded with a slight shake of his head. He didn’t know where to begin, nor how to explain himself.

Fortunately, Wei Wuxian offered to explain on his behalf. He pointed with his eyes to himself, then stared expectantly at Lan Xiaoli, who hesitantly nodded in return.

After getting Lan Xiaoli’s approval, Wei Wuxian turned back to Lan Wangji and started, “Do you remember the library with the maid-eating demon?”

He told Lan Wangji everything, from the scroll Lan Xiaoli had found, the curse and the pact, to their futile attempts to break it.

Lan Wangji patiently listened until Wei Wuxian had finished, then looked Lan Xiaoli squarely in the eye and asked in a low voice, “Why?”

The unmistakable pain in Lan Wangji’s voice tugged at Lan Xiaoli’s heartstrings. Lan Wangji’s intense gaze bore into Lan Xiaoli with an icy and unyielding intensity that seemed to pierce his very soul. It was impossible for him to maintain eye contact.

Wei Wuxian opened his mouth to reply again, but was interrupted by Lan Wangji, who not once lifted his gaze from Lan Xiaoli. “I asked him, not you.”

Wei Wuxian immediately shut up.

The two men waited for Lan Xiaoli to speak, but his burning eyes were fixated on the hands he rested on his thighs. It took him several attempts to formulate what he wanted to say, but whenever he opened his mouth, no sound would come out. His tongue seemed weighed down by his guilty conscience, and his voice seemed stuck in his throat. Sweat beads formed on his forehead. His fingers fiercely wrung the robes that covered his lap until he finally worked up the courage to explain.

“I have… I have been training so hard… every day, for years, without any results!” His throat was dry and his voice hoarse, but he continued, “I never got any better, no matter how much I practised, no matter what advice I got! It just doesn’t make any sense! Why doesn’t it work for me?! So what if I used a bit of help?”

As the truth gushed out of his mouth, his emotions overflowed as well. Anger welled up in his chest, overruling his shame. He lifted his reddened eyes to face Lan Wangji. “I was so tired of feeling so useless, so worthless! Always watching from the sidelines! I wanted to help, wanted to… fight alongside you! Wanted to be able to protect the people I love! I really… truly… didn’t want to disappoint you any longer!”

Lan Xiaoli grew angrier with each word until he’d jumped up from his seat, as if the anger had stung him like a bee. He was angry at the situation, angry at his misfortune, but most of all, angry at himself.

After his rant, Lan Xiaoli was panting heavily, each breath burning in his sore throat. He needed something to drink, but he didn’t dare move. He stared at Lan Wangji with a conflicted expression, awaiting his response.

Lan Wangji’s eyes hadn’t followed him when Lan Xiaoli had jumped to his feet. Once more, he’d listened patiently and when it was his turn to speak, he said, “Ten years and I have never been disappointed once,” he paused for a short moment to lock eyes with Lan Xiaoli again. “Until now.”

Lan Xiaoli’s heart cracked.

Lan Wangji spoke in a calm tone, yet it was obvious that he was mad. He removed his gaze from Lan Xiaoli as if he no longer could bear seeing him. “Leave.”

Lan Xiaoli fiercely bit down on his lip to hold back the hot tears that were about to fall. He cupped his hands in obeisance and respectfully bowed to his dads before he stormed off. Outside, he let himself drop onto the gravel, ignoring the dull pain in his knees from the impact. At this point, Lan Xiaoli knew he had to collect punishment without Lan Wangji having to tell him.

Lan Xiaoli furiously rubbed his eyes, as if he didn’t deserve to cry. Didn’t deserve to feel hurt. Pain, he deserved, yes. But as the massive failure he was, he had no right to be upset at his father’s reaction, so he swallowed it all down.

Inside, Lan Wangji shook his head, heart-broken, while Wei Wuxian continued to stare awkwardly at his hands. He was fully aware of the fact that Lan Wangji was not only disappointed in Lan Xiaoli, but in him as well. Therefore, he was too ashamed to face Lan Wangji.

“Why did you keep this from me?” Lan Wangji broke the silence at last.

Wei Wuxian hesitated, but then replied honestly, “He… made me promise.”

Lan Wangji’s unblinking gaze was fixed on him. “Your promise to him weighs more than your promise to me?”

These words hit Wei Wuxian hard. Not knowing what to say, he just pursed his lips. 

“It is related to dark energy,” Lan Wangji continued.

Wei Wuxian raised his head in irritation and shot a glaring look at the other man. “I did not help him,” he immediately retorted, annoyed that Lan Wangji still believed he’d helped Lan Xiaoli to resort to such extreme measures.

Lan Wangji nodded. “I believe you. You will still receive punishment,” he paused briefly, “tonight.”

With just one word, Wei Wuxian’s mood changed from gloomy and sullen to giddy and excited. He knew it was the good kind of punishment, and his lips curved into a wide, suggestive grin. Afraid that Lan Wangji might withdraw his forgiveness if he showed no remorse, Wei Wuxian quickly lowered his head and tried to restrain his smile.

After he’d stated his verdict, Lan Wangji got up and left. He wanted to visit the town’s library to do his own research. No matter how hurt and disappointed he was, the well-being of those closest to him always came first. Heading out, he passed Lan Xiaoli and made sure to correct the teen’s posture with the hilt of his sword before leaving.

Lan Xiaoli had been so deep in thought, that the sudden feeling of a hard object jabbing him in the back startled him. He unconsciously straightened his posture and turned his head to find the source of the touch. When he saw it was his father, his spine stiffened at once and he promptly averted his eyes in embarrassment. After such a grave revelation, he could’ve at least tried to maintain a proper posture…

Once more a disappointment. Once more a failure.

Could he do anything right?

[a-canceled-stamp]

Your “Bill and Nye die. Poor science guy.” wip title made me laugh 😂😂 I need to know what is happening with that! Curious about Dick’s bad call too 👀

Wellll, the ‘poor science guy’ one is going to be more of a drabble than anything else. It’s basically an idea that popped up a few months ago and that I haven’t been able to forget.

Basically, Tim has two pet fish, who he’s named Bill and Nye (honestly, it’s probably an inside joke he has with one of his bat-siblings but who’s to say who). Tim is, you guessed it, the science guy, who unfortunately has to experience the pain of having his two pets pass away after a really challenging week. As he’s alone at Drake Manor, he calls Dick in his moment of dispair, but since there’s a gala at Wayne Manor and Dick (for some reason) left his phone with Damian, he’s the one who picks up.

After being grilled about why he sounds like he’s about to cry (he’s not), he cracks and tells Damian what happened. He expects to be ridiculed. Instead, Damian is…pleasant, for once. Comforting even, in a very Damian sort of way. I just want them to be supportive of one another, for once :’(

I don’t have anything share-worthy from that wip, BUT I can share a snippet from ‘Dick’s bad call’ cause I might be finished with it soon. It takes place barely a month after Jason’s death. Dick is working as a detective in Blüdhaven, distancing himself from Bruce and running away from the pain of being reminded that his little brother is dead (as you do). He’s on his way home when dispatch sends out a 10-80 over the radio.

(Traffic accident. Major injuries reported.)

This snipped is from when he's at the scene and sees someone in the backseat of the crashed car. Someone with a mop of raven hair, who, at first glance, looks painfully familiar.

In the next second, he’s by the backseat door, and the flashlight trembles as he shines it through the window.

It’s a boy. Black hair, ashen complexion made worse in the pale light of the torch. His face is partially hidden as his temple rests against the window, smudging red onto the glass.

Dick feels like he's choking. Blood roars in his ears, mingling with the static sound of rain, and he tries to speak but can’t, his jaw stiff and numb.

He lets the light trail down the boy’s body – what he can see at least. The boy is dressed formally – in clothes he never would’ve been caught dead wearing. He’s holding a phone limply in his lap, the screen cracked and black, reflecting in the flashlight.

Dick redirects the light again and nearly jumps out of his own skin when the boy – when the child – moves. He raises his head slightly, enough for Dick to see his eyelashes flutter against the brightness of the flashlight, to see the grimace of pain flash across his face. The rain pouring down the window distorts his features and makes the moving shadows on his cheeks look like tears, but Dick still sees the blood covering the side of his face, his skin deathly pale in contrast.

And it’s not him. He’s skinny – too skinny – and his nose is the wrong shape, as is the curve of the corners of his mouth. His hair isn't as curly, and he doesn’t have the scar on his eyebrow, because it’s not him, of course, it’s not him.

Still, Dick can’t stop the way his heart is pounding against his ribs, the way his legs feel like they’re going to give way underneath him.

He needs to get him out of there.

Thanks for the ask!

[dragonmasterhiccup]

When Hiccup and Toothless arrived, Danny was fast asleep. Her arm had been placed in the same splint as before, when it had been burned, and her leg was slightly elevated so her wound wasn’t rubbing against the bed. Even though she was asleep, she still looked exhausted, which wasn’t surprising considering everything she had went through in the past day and a half.

‘She seems to be doing better, but it’s too early to tell for sure. Her complexion is still unhealthily pale, but better than before, and I am not seeing any signs of infection from either her arm or her leg.’

With that being said, Gothi looked up at Hiccup and frowned before walking him on the side of his head with her staff.

‘Now what in Thor’s name happened?! You bring her to me like this not once, but twice in the span of three months! I should have you know that she’s lucky she’s not joining you in the missing leg club! Please, tell me, do you want me to have a bed built in here just for her, because this is severely out of hand!’

‘And do you have any idea how long this is going to take for her to come back from?! This is not only a burden on her, but on me; I only have one bed and it seems to me she’s going to be occupying it for the foreseeable future, which wouldn’t be and issue, I have no problem caring for the girl, but we are in the height of winter Chief, other Berkians can get deathly sick, and they will have no place to rest up if need be.’

He read Gothi's assessment, hand to his chin, and nodded, deep in thought.

He was abruptly pulled out of his thoughts when he got whacked by Gothi's staff. "Wha-Hey! Ow!" Thankfully he managed to keep his voice down, he didn't want to wake Danny up.

He rubbed the side of his head, a little agitated, and tried to keep the volume of his voice low as he spoke. "What happened? She decided to up and leave in the night, and got attacked by raiders, that's what happened! I tried to tell her to get more combat training, to build up some skills to better protect herself, and she refused, many times! She's stubborn, and when the hunters took her months ago it didn't seem to stop her from insisting she can do whatever she wants!"

He paused, closing his eyes and taking a deep breath. He sounded more sad than angry now. "I tried to protect her, Gothi. I promise, I did. I went looking as soon as I knew she was gone, I just...got there too late."

He looked at the elder Berkian, apologetic. "I'll see about getting you a new bed, I should have done it last time Danny was here, I hadn't realized...I thought you had a room in the back, and that was where yours was. I'll do what I can to help, I promise."

He glanced over at Danny. "I don't think she'll be trying anything reckless anytime soon, this has really shaken her up." He looked back at Gothi. "I'll get what we've already discussed to you as soon as possible, but be sure to let me know how else I can help, and if there's anything particular you need."

[rhythymicwriting]

Appetizer from "Cursed Winds in Bamboo Grass"

The room was cold, the air thick with malice. Cotton filled desperate lungs. Eyes refused to close, as if stapled open. She stared back at the visage, her blood like concrete in her veins. “And besides, I’m dead.” He said blankly. “I died cuz you questioned me, you know. Don’t you feel any responsibility?” She couldn't answer, guilt and fear clogging her throat. “And I suffered a long time cuz of you too, right? You got anything to say to that?” She sputtered, “I…I…” She really didn’t. He laughed. “No reason to clam up, you damn murderer.” The cheery smile on his face completely contrasted the brutality of his words. “No! I… I did… the most I could…!” She tried. Who was she justifying her actions too? Him… or to her?

“And this is how it turned out?” Shadow seemed to cover his eyes. She couldn’t bring herself to meet them anymore. “I protected everyone.” “But I died.” He spat. “Kai died, too.” “But…” She tried. It was getting her nowhere. “Just stop it already, Joe!! Please!” He was quiet for a second. When his voice returned, the tone was darker, threatening. “You wanna look away?” Her heart raced faster, already empty lungs fighting a frightening pressure. In a heartbeat, his face was right in hers, an unnatural smile almost literally ripping his face in two. His teeth were gritted in that horrifying grin as he screeched, “LOOK ME IN THE EYE.” It was awfully ironic, really, that he’d say that. He had no eyes to look into. Sara shot upright, hands flying to her pounding chest. She desperately gasped for air. Head aching, she attempted to gather her bearings. The room was unfamiliar. Like a hotel, a queen size mattress was centered against the wall. Grey sheets lay over her lap, matching pillows crushed behind her. Beside the bed stood a small side table beneath a warm wall light and beside that stood a completely unnecessary floor lamp of the same warm color. A large mirror hung on the wall between two armchairs.

Sara stood and drifted to the mirror, locking eyes with a mess of a woman. Her hair was strewn about wildly. Her skin was pale and sickly, the bags around her eyes less of bags and more of chasms. Cool sweat gave her already poor complexion a deathly shimmer and stuck her bangs to her cheeks. The choppy face-frame haircut only made her look more like roadkill when it stuck to her like that. Humiliated, she turned her attention to the task at hand. The Death Game. If she wanted to survive this, she couldn’t afford to admire her half dead self in the mirror, she had to get moving. “Sara…” She froze. Subtle movement drew her eye to the bed. The stain was small at first, but it quickly spread outward like ripples in a pool. The fabric grew dark and the color shifted, rapidly becoming stomach churning red. Sara jumped out of her skin when the wall light suddenly went out. “How long are you going to run…?” As the voice murmured to her, blood ran slowly down the stand of the floor lamp, as if spilling through the shade. Her eyes intensely followed the stream as it trailed down to the floor. She almost didn’t notice the pool that formed around her own feet, only realizing when it reached the foot of the bed. Again, she jumped. This time, handprints appearing on the lamp’s shade. “Die with me, Sara.” Sara watched in horror as her reflection in the mirror began to change. In place of her own ginger hair sprouted wild and flirty brown locks, matted together with dirt and blood. It was clipped away from hollow eyes with a shining golden clasp. Her horrified eyes morphed into much more sinister hollows, what were once eternally smiling now eternally gone. As she stared, she became conscious of other figures in the room with her, seating themselves beside the mirror. Before a tasteful pillow sat a mass of unruly grey hair, forming a sort of crown around the severed head. Sara’s voice was no more than a tortured whisper. “Professor Mishima…” Facing away from her sat the full figure of a man, his red apron stained even darker with the liquid that ran from his wrists. His head was hung, as if he refused to see her. Even more pained than before, Sara couldn’t voice more than the ‘k.’ “Kai…” Again her eyes returned to the mirror, the visage she saw there felt so real. It couldn’t be. She knew it couldn’t. But, God, it really felt like it was. She mustered every ounce of strength she could find. It wasn’t much. “You… You’re not Joe!” Sara cried. “This is just a dream…!” “So cold, man.” He replied. What she said couldn’t possibly be colder than his tone. “Aren’t we best friends?” “Shut up…!!” Sara screamed. She threw her fist into the mirror, hoping to silence the man herself. The glass shattered beneath her hand, his tormenting smile splitting into fragments. Pain shot through her arm and her mouth hung agape. She wanted to cry out, but her voice was gone. Sara could only babble, small gasps escaping her. “I…It hurts…” She mumbled. “Someone…help…” “I’ll make you more comfortable.” The voice drawled. Firm fingers wrapped mercilessly around her throat, the visage no longer confined to the reflection. “Stop…I can’t breathe…Joe,” Sara pleaded. The visage only grinned wider, her pleas reaching the wrong ears. “St…op…!!” “Sara…Get a grip, Sara!”

Excerpt from my new book "Cursed Winds in Bamboo Grass." Chapter one is now available on both Archive of Our Own and Wattpad.