#vermin-footed

[merrysithmas]

god i hate cops

[mustelifiedmerchandise]

23?

23. Who are five of your favorite bands/musical artists? OH FUCK OKAY. IM ONLY INCLUDING ONE OF PATtSS PROJECTtSS SSO. UH. WINGNUTt NUTtRITtION RECEPTtACLE CLEANSSERSS UNION, SSTtRUTt POD OX, AJJ, (TtROLL) (NOUN), AND JUSSTt KNIICK.

[mari-beau]

Sometimes being environmentally friendly/conscious is out of people's price range.

[nebulaafterdark]

The Rats

Aegon ii Targaryen x Velaryon(Strong)!Reader

Summary: Aegon attempts to make peace with Rhaenyra after being forced to usurp her throne. Lucerys’ death complicates things.

18+ ONLY, MDNI. Targcest, smut, angst, violence. S2 SPOILERS

“I can’t be ‘Aegon the Magnanimous.’ No one knows what Magnanimous means.” Aegon drawls, slumped over in his throne. The hour is late and there are many places he’d rather be. Namely with his beloved wife, who he’s scarcely seen, since taking on his duties. Their children will already be asleep, but if they wrap things up here soon, he may have a few moments with Y/N before bed.

“Aegon the dragon cock.” One of the piss drunk men raises his cup to the king.

“That’s more like it,” Aegon claps his hands together.

The men hoot and holler at the name. Dissolving into laughter.

“Speaking of,” Aegon rises to his feet, “I must get back to my wife. I did not wed her to admire from afar.” Aegon tosses back the remainder of his wine, throwing his gauntlet down beside the throne. “Good evening, gentlemen.”

He wastes no time, taking the stairs two at a time up to his chambers. His queen is already abed, waiting up for him with a bit of light reading. “What story is that now, my dearest love?” Aegon asks, pulling off his boots.

“It’s a book about the plague.” Y/N bends it open at the spine, setting the bound pages on the bedside table.

“Seems a bit morbid.” Aegon frowns, “especially in these times, wouldn’t you say?”

“Do you have something better in mind, your grace?”

Aegon doesn’t miss the bitterness in her voice. “You are my equal, here of all places. Don’t do this to me, please. Do not ice me out, I cannot bear it.”

Y/N sighs, crossing both arms over her chest. “Helaena is frightened of the rats. I’ve been looking into their behaviors and customs.”

Aegon flops onto the mattress, unceremoniously. “The rats?”

Y/N nods, “to be honest, I’m not particularly fond of them either. Although, they are interesting.”

“No vermin shall touch you so long as I live, darling girl. The only thing nibbling your toes will be me.” He wiggles his foot against hers for emphasis.

Y/N huffs a laugh. Allowing the silence between them to hang heavy.

“I am sorry about your brother.” Aegon says, despite ordering his own brother, Aemond, away at the news and holding her through sobs, he’s yet to say the words. “I cannot stand your suffering. It’s made it nearly impossible to be away from you to perform my duties.”

Y/N brings his hand to her lips, kissing the knuckles.

“I want you to attend the petitions,” he decides. “At my side, in my lap, seated directly on my cock; whatever suits you.”

“Directly on your cock?” Y/N chortles, “your mother would have my head.”

“She will do no such thing, you are queen. You may do as you wish.”

“You spoil me,” that’s what everyone says anyway.

“You’re mine to spoil. They’re jealous is all.”

“Shall we practice then? For the hearings?”

“If you wish.” Aegon rolls onto his back, sliding both arms behind his head.

Y/N grins, devilishly as she slides off his clothes, allowing his cock to spring free. Her own nightgown and small clothes follow before she swings a leg over his hips and slides down his length.

“Seven hells,” Aegon groans.

His wife leans forward, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips.

“A tenth of my flock has been taken, your grace.” Aegon tells her, repeating one of the smallfolk’s concerns.

“Your what?” Y/N blinks at him.

“Sheep,” he continues, “a tenth of them gone, taken by your guard, just before winter. What say you, my queen?”

“Give them back.” Y/N sighs as his hands finally land on her hips, guiding her movements.

“That’s what I said,” Aegon hums, thrusting up to meet her.

“Did they listen?”

“No.” Aegon purses his lips, “they might need them to feed the dragons.”

“It’s much harder to concentrate this way, my king.”

“I know,” he coos, “but you’re doing so well.”

“The dragons,” Y/N pants, “have never required sheep from the smallfolk before.”

“We have never been to war.” Aegon says, through gritted teeth as she clenches around him.

“My mother will want revenge for Lucerys.”

“And I want this matter resolved peacefully.” Aegon assures her, “still I cannot give my brother up for the slaughter.”

“I don’t see how this can end peacefully now,” Y/N laments, feeling the coil in her belly tighten. “It will end in fire and blood.”

“What would you have me do?”

Y/N shakes her head, “We must stop Aemond from claiming Harrenhal at the least.”

“Consider it done.” Aegon beckons her down for a kiss.

The clatter of metal against the floor breaks them apart, “what was that?” Y/N’s eyes search the room.

“Twas only the wind, my dearest love.” Aegon smiles up at his wife.

The hairs on the back of her neck stand at attention. “No. Something is wrong.”

“I agree,” Aegon takes her nipple between his thumb and forefinger, rolling it to a taut peak. “You stopped moving.”

“Aegon,” she warns, “please.”

“Shhh,” he gentles her back to a steady grind. “I’m here. You are safe.”

Y/N offers a shaky smile. Still something seems amiss, though she can’t think much more about it with Aegon’s free hand toying with her pearl.

“Cum on my cock, then we will look into it, if you feel so inclined.”

Y/N nods, bouncing faster, harder. Trying to ignore the worry twisting at her gut.

Aegon’s bottom lip is caught between his teeth. “Fuck, I love you.”

“I love you.”

“More than anyone or anything, save for our children. I want you to remember that…always.”

Y/N nods, feeling herself teetering on the precipice. “I-” she wants to say it back, only her brain doesn’t seem to be working.

“Hush, sweetheart.” Aegon groans, because he knows. Rubbing his fingers harshly against her pearl to push her over the edge. Shaking and crying her release as she milks his cock. “Good girl.” Aegon fills her pulsing cunt with his spend.

She leans toward her husband, capturing his lips as they ride out their high. Once she has caught her breath Y/N rolls away, off of the bed, shuffling back into her nightgown.

Aegon follows her lead, redressing in his tunic and trousers. “Head to the children’s room, wait for me there. I’ll have the guards help me search the floor for any sign of…rats.”

Y/N wrings her hands, knowing how silly it sounds. “Thank you, Aegon.”

He closes the distance between them, pressing his lips to her forehead and cheek. “You’re more than welcome.” He watches her leave the room before heading in the opposite direction. Where is everyone? The keep is never so quiet, even at night.

Y/N scampers down the hallway to the nursery, it takes a moment for her mind to make sense of the scene before her. Helaena with a knife held to her throat by a strange man. His counterpart hovering over the children’s beds with a blade at the ready.

“What are you doing?” Y/N breathes, clutching a hand to her chest.

The man holding Helaena shoves her aside.

Y/N catches the woman in her arms, smoothing down her white tresses. Helaena clings to her. “It’s ok.”

The children sleep better together, they always have. Besides the maids prefer Aegon and Y/N’s children close to Aemond and Helaena’s for practical reasons, until they are older.

“Which of them are yours?” The first man demands.

“All of them,” Y/N lies. “All of them are mine.”

“You have but four children,” Cheese insists. “Here lie six, tell me which are yours and I will spare them.”

“If I don’t tell you and you’re wrong, my mother will have your head.” Y/N clenches her jaw. “For all I know of our true queen, this was not her request. So who’s was it?”

“A son for a son, that’s what’s fair.” Blood insists.

“What did they offer you? Gold?” Y/N wonders, “I’ll double it if you leave now.”

The men look to each other, undecided.

“Or you could take me instead. I’m worth more to my mother than any bounty.” Rhaenyra’s eldest child offers.

————————————————————————-

Aegon completes his sweep of their chambers, along with the rest of the royal floor. Nothing is amiss. He moves to the children’s quarters and finds Helaena, curled up on the floor. “What’s happened?”

Helaena takes her brother’s outstretched hand. “They wanted to kill the boy.”

The boy? “My boy?”

Helaena shakes her head, “mine.”

Aegon looks to his nephew, still sleeping soundly. “Where is Y/N?”

“They took her instead.”

“Where the hell is Cole?” Aegon demands. “Where in the seven hells is anyone?”

“I don’t know,” Helaena sobs.

Part 2

[girlboypersonthingy]

Hi again, I'm the awkward anon (lol)

So I had this scenario in mind and even though I'm new to this fandom, I haven't found anything similar.

So, reader (gn) is Lucifer's partner and is a fallen angel too, but not as powerful. During the final battle they fight with Adam, and just when he is about to eliminate them, Lucifer arrives and saves them and goes full demon mode.

You're obviously not obligated to write it, and please take your time!! Thank you🥰

AWKWARD ANON, YOU GENIUS 😍 I’m in love with this prompt oh my god. And thank you for being so polite, what a gentleman, what a lady, what a scholar. Enjoyyyy!

Notes: gn!reader, fallen angel!reader, reader has their wings still, reader is sort of a parental figure for Charlie

TW: blood, bruises, fighting, cussing

Lucifer x reader- To the Rescue 🎇

It had been a long, grueling battle so far and watching Sir Pentious disappear into nothing within just a split second brought tears to everyone’s eyes. “Ugh! Razzle, Dazzle!” Charlie summons her fuzzy companions who magically morph into giant, elegantly fierce dragons.

You stood beside the others as you watched Charlie and Vaggie charge forward towards Adam on Razzle and Dazzle, the entire group cheering them on before continuing the battle against the exorcists. Upon seeing Vaggie and Dazzle fall at the hands of Lute, your eyes then land on Charlie next, a cry of worry leaving your mouth as you watch Adam smack Charlie so hard she goes flying into the lights of the hotel sign. “Charlie!” Using your wings, you race to get to her, dodging other angels as you fly. You had no time to waste- sure Charlie is powerful but Adam is quite the equal match. If anything, you worry that he will conquer her if she fights him alone.

The moment you step foot on the roof of the hotel you take a moment to watch as Charlie stabs Adam with her weapon and swings it around, sending him crashing down as she glares at him. “That’s princess of hell to you, pig.” Despite the tense and scary situation, a proud smile grows on your face as you watch her. “I’m here. I’m with you.” Your words grab her attention and she smiles at you before you both raise your weapons up in defense.

“Ah! I see another traitor has come to die, huh?” Adam teases you as he gets back to his feet, a shit-eating grin on his face. “Long time, no see, babe. So this is what you’re up to since you fell? Hm, you seem to fit right in with these idiots.” As she suddenly charges forward, Adam quickly flies out of the way of Charlie’s attack and instead grabs a hold of her weapon, swinging her around by it and knocking her down again, this time tossing her weapon far aside where she couldn’t reach it. Before you could get between them, Adam hits Charlie hard across the face then raises his angelic weapon above her. Sprinting to Charlie’s side, you manage to stop him in his tracks by putting your weapon up against his, a loud clash of metal sounding between you two. After a few moments of struggling against each other, Adam uses so much force that it brings you to your knees and you watch as your weapon begins to bend and buckle under his. Pushing back against him, you manage to make him stumble back for a moment. Tossing your own weapon aside then grabbing a hold of his weapon with your bare hands and not letting go, you panic as you realize there’s no where else to go and no way you’re getting out of this alive. You just have to hold on and push back for as long as you can.

“NO! Adam, please. You don’t have to do this. You don’t have to kill these people. Please…It’s n-not too late-“

Within seconds, Adam has you knocked to the ground right beside Charlie with a brutal punch to the face. “You don’t know anything! I know it’s been a while since you were in heaven with us but things have changed, hun.” Weak and exhausted from the fight, you stay down beside Charlie, even reaching over to put a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “You really think these disgusting vermin can change? HAH! You are so stupid. Even more stupid than I thought you were before!” Adam crouches down to get a closer look at your bruised face covered in streams of gold blood.

You saw your chance and took it without hesitation, reaching forward to grab Adam by his clothes and slam him down to the ground. “I’m not stupid, you asshole!” The words come as a guttural scream from you as his back hits the hard ground. As fast as you can, you climb on top of him, straddling his waist as you begin landing blow after blow to his face. After only a few hits, his mask falls off and clatters to the ground beside him. “You’re disgusting! What kind of angel are you?!” And before you can get another punch in, he has you by the throat. His fingers dig in to your skin, his face now matching yours with patches of gold blood staining it. It made you feel somewhat proud to know that you made those marks on him.

You continue swinging on him but to no avail, he just won’t let up on your neck and your chest is starting to burn from the lack of oxygen. Finally, your hands find his, frantic fingers trying to pry his off of you as you gasp for air. “(Y/N)!” Charlie scrambles forward to try and stop Adam with a fierce expression on her face but it only takes him a second to remove one hand from your neck and latch it onto hers with deadly force. With your throat in one hand and Charlie’s throat in the other, Adam squeezes with all his strength, making your vision start to go dark and fuzzy. “A-Adam. P-please…” you squeak out, still trying to get his hand to loosen up. Your wings pop out again, trying to flap and get you away from him but he had such a strong hold on you. You suddenly worry that Charlie’s whines and choking beside you will be the last thing you ever hear.

“This fight was cute and all, but it’s time to die with the rest of them.” He uses his leverage on your neck to pull your face close to his. “Im glad you fell. You didn’t deserve to be up there with someone like me. You’re just a stupid little-“

Without another word, Adam was flung to the side by a hard punch from a suddenly appearing Lucifer. The blow had you swiftly dropping to your feet before Lucifer catches you, kneeling down as he cradles you and Charlie gently. “I’m so sorry I’m late, my darlings.” He looks back and forth between you and Charlie with apologetic and loving eyes. “Are my loves okay?” Charlie nods with a sweet smile towards her father while you give him a smirk and a wink. “Took you long enough.” You teasingly reply as Adam finally crawls his way back to the fight.

“Hmmph! Ugh…how man of you freaks do I have to fight?”

“Oh I’m the only one that matters. See, you messed with my daughter and my partner and now, I am going TO FUCK YOU!” You actually face palm as Charlie steps closer to her dad with an embarrassed look on her face. “It’s ’fuck you up’, dad…” “Wait, what did I say?”

As Luci and Adam fight and soar around in the red sky above you, Lucifer shape shifting and bullying Adam, you notice Charlie running to help Vaggie who was still fighting with Lute. Just as you began running to assist her, Adam hit the entire hotel with an extremely powerful blast, slicing the whole building into two. You trip backwards, thankfully avoiding the huge canyon that had formed in the middle of the hotel. All you can do is watch with fearful eyes as Charlie goes falling down into the deep pit, Lucifer chasing after her with impeccable speed. In just seconds, he catches her and circles around back to check on you.

“I got you.” “Dad, look out!” You flinch as Adam approaches but fortunately, the two demons with you were prepared and countered his attack, Charlie sending Adam crashing down to the hard asphalt. Lucifer then scoops you up and holds you and Charlie up in each of his arms as if you weigh nothing, then he flies all three of you into the air together. You couldn’t help but admire both of their passion, their anger and burning hate for Adam radiating off them. Charlie looks so much like her father and Lucifer looks so protective- both of them with glowing red eyes, horns fully protruded from their heads, tails wild and whipping behind them.

“You come at me and my family?! Don’t forget-“ In the blink of an eye, Lucifer has cautiously set both of you down before rushing to Adam. “You’re in my house, bitch!” Within seconds, Lucifer has reduced Adam to a golden bloody pulp as you watch, arms crossed and a vengeful smile on your face. “Whoa, whoa! Dad!” Charlie grabs her father’s shoulder and gains his attention. “He’s had enough…”

Lucifer complies with his daughter’s pleas and retreats back with you and the rest of the group as Adam crawls forward, whining and bitching about how cool he is and how he started all of mankind and blah blah blah. Lucifer’s hand slips into yours and his other finds Charlie’s hand. Just as you think you’ve heard enough of Adam’s bullshit ranting, he stops very abruptly and falls to the ground to reveal Nifty to be the one who finally took down Adam. Of course the entire group was shocked but relieved nonetheless.

“Oh, damn.” You can’t help but pity Lute as she begs Adam to get up and cries over his slowly dying body. “It’s over.” Charlie spits out as she stands beside a beaten up Vaggie. “Now take your little friends AND GO HOME! Please~” Lucifer growls out.

Lucifer watches as the exorcists retreat before he heads over to bring you and Charlie into a crushingly tight group hug. “I’m so glad my babies are okay. I love you both so much.” “I love you too, dad.” Charlie replies as she smiles, her eyes fluttering closed. “I love you, too, Luci.” He pulls away and sweeps your hair out of your face before letting out a soft sigh. “I can’t ever thank you enough for protecting my little girl.” All you can offer him is a smile and dreamy eyes. “She’s like a daughter to me. She’s our daughter. I love her just as much as you.” And this time, you initiate the group hug, cherishing the feeling of knowing both of them are safe and in your arms.

And Lucifer couldn’t be more happy and proud of his family. He’s so thankful to have both of you in his life now and he feels truly blessed to have you both safe with him again.

[nina-renmen]

Bloodied Love

Yandere Homelander x supe reader pt.1

Summary: He never expected to have a soulmate. His mark was never there, so what happens once it appears where you touched him? A girl like you, not even human. You fed off of his kind, but that dosn’t deter him from the horrors he has planned. You deprived him of your love, and now he won’t let go of you…even if he has to kill you.

Warnings: This is a Yandere fic so there will be blood, gore, ect. There will be nsfw themes and scenes in here as well as drugging and other things. Reader is not a human but she’s a water and air spirit called a Nokken. Reader has a hatred for humans

A mysterious dark figure has yet again saved the city once more. Could this be a new hero on the rise? Stay tuned for more-“ 

A [skin color] hand pressed the big red button on the dainty remote. Though her strength was controlled she almost crushed it. “Looks like someone’s getting famous.” Y/n looked away from the black screen and towards her friend. Her milky white eyes began shifting back into their natural [eye color] shade. “I guess.” Y/n mumbled. Her sharp claws slowly retracting. Almost like bear claws. “Dosn’t really matter when we have hero’s killing innocent civilians.” Y/n stated, standing up she towered over her friend, “You know Ivan…I’m not even sure if this hero thing is what I want.” 

The shorter male who at the time was drinking a glass of wine had choked on the bitter substance. His black soulmate mark seemed to jump as he shifted quickly. The dark red liquid running down his chin as he scrambled to wipe it away. “What?! How come?” Ivan asked, his honey brown eyes widened. “It’s not because of that accident right?! Because if that’s it you should know that it’s not knew-“ 

“Thats the problem…I-“ Y/n paused as her radio began to go off. Signaling an attack. Ivan tilted his head towards the door as he looked down at y/n’s outfit. “You’re still in your suit. Best get going.” He said in a fatherly tone. Y/n smile but scoffed in order to cover it up. She walked out the front door. Her body taking her towards the site immediately.

She could still feel his blood on her. The blood of her comrades she worked with, the blood of Ivan. The gaze of his blood still lingered in his mouth. There was nothing left, only his half eaten head that lie in the ground. A horrified expression laid on his dead face. She didn’t feel that urge anymore. That burning sensation that told her to eat, eat, eat. 

She knew she didn’t want to. He gave her no choice!! He was out for her blood! He was out for her abilities! She was just big game to him. A long cat and mouse game that she was oblivious to playing. A bounty on her head! He only wanted the money, he was like all the other rotten humans in this world! All the dirty, disgusting, vermin-

A single drop was able to knock her from her thoughts. And then the camera flashing began as she stood at the foot of the plane. American press were taking pictures of her. Fans screamed her name, but y/n’s smile had not reached her eyes. For she held no pleasure in standing before these people. Her mother country, Brazil had sent their number one hero to help America. A oncoming agreement came from the two countries and a treaty was made. America gives them resources and money and they gave up…..her. But that did not mean she would abandon her past. Even if she were to live here for a few years before going back home. 

“[Hero Name]! How does it feel to be on American soil?!” One of the interviewers asked, shoving their mics in her face. They don’t really care, they wanted the money. They all only wanted money. 

Y/n’s eyes trailed down to meet the woman’s eyes. A flash of nervousness appeared within her irises. Her green eyes meeting y/n’s milky white ones. Y/n tilted her head to the side, examining if she even wanted to speak with the woman. “It feels just like home.” Y/n finally spoke up, flashing a polite smile towards the smaller woman. She stood at a tall height of 5’8, her form taller than most women she knew, and yet smaller than most men. 

“[hero name]! Can you describe your powers of being a Nokken?!” Another reporter questioned. Y/n’s hand twitched but no one batted an eye. They probably didn’t even notice. “A magician never reveals her tricks.” Y/n said in a happy tone. That same eye catching smile was forever carved in her face. And yet again her eyes did not match. But of course no human cared. Humans were easily deceived, they were easily eaten- 

‘Dont think like that.’ Y/n thought to herself. And almost immediately the attention was finally directed off of her. “It’s homelander!” A random person states the obvious. Y/n attempted to slink away but a strong arm wrapped around her shoulder. ��Thank you for the love! But I wanted to welcome in the new hero everyone’s been raving about!” The blue eyed man exclaimed. Y/n made no attempt to look up at him, for she knew that if she did she might as well be provoked to hit him. And she doubted that would do anything. “Smile.” Homelander whispered but the muscles in y/n’s face remained locked in. A neutral expression on her face as she made eye contact with reporters. She wouldn’t be a fraud like the man above her was. 

“Thank you for the warm welcome but I best be going homelander. Maybe we’ll cross paths again.” Y/n says loud enough for the reporters to hear as y/n smiles and begins to be escorted out of the airport.

The cool air hit her. Rain drops fell from the sky, turning her once [skin color] skin into a sickly grey. Her hair turning into an inky black color. She was not only a water based supe but an air one as well. The combination brought on many fans and onlookers that wished to be her. Or dispise her. 

“You left in a hurry.” That same familiar voice echoed throughout the empty streets. People were off the roads due to the storm. Y/n looked over her shoulder, this time her milky white eyes meeting his bright blue ones. “Was I supposed to linger?” Y/n questioned, turning her body towards him. She stood tall, her form didn’t look weak. 

“Not necessarily, just….unusual.” He replied. “Usually supes stick around to talk to the number one hero in the world.” 

“In America.” Y/n replied, slightly cutting him off. 

“Pardon?” He questioned. The smile on his face was fake. It didn’t reach his eyes, it looked like a mask. A horrible one at that. 

“You are the number one hero in America. Who’s to say the world when you haven’t even stepped out of it before?” Y/n questioned. Homelander gave y/n an annoyed look. “Anyway Mr retriever, I best get going.”

”Mr retriever?” Homelands questioned, he took off one of his gloves in order to get the water out of it. 

“You look like one.” Y/n spoke as she patted his arm whilst walking past him. Homelandee furrowed his eyebrows. Who does this girl think she is? He’s number one- 

The blonde haired male could feel a burning sensation on his forearm. He glanced down, not thinking it’d be anything only for his eyes go linger the name, y/n l/n was imbedded into his arm. His eyebrows furrowed, whose name was this? As realization began to sink in that this was his soulmates name…where ever she was he’d find her.

[bitten-fruit]

Houndtooth | ⇦ Chapter 3 ⇨

Ghost x f!Reader - tags: slow burn, enemies to lovers, abduction, bodyguard, forced cooperation, smut

18+ mdni - cw: kidnapping - 3.4k words

𝐈𝐈𝐈. 𝐅𝐫𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐛𝐢𝐭𝐞

“I’ll freeze to death.”  

You utter, voice low and tense; your cadence despite your effort is sheepish, as though you’re exerting every effort to reassert yourself as brave and unflinching. A mask to veil the shivering little rabbit you must spend most of your life trying to conceal.   

Ghost isn’t fooled by your disguise, by your attempts to obfuscate your vulnerability – no, he can scent your panic, that frightened wee animal at the centre of you, hidden beneath the baiting curves of your flesh. He might be able to see its reflection glistening in your nervous eyes, once he’s able to rip that sack off your head.  

The thought tempts a vengeful smirk that tugs at his lips. One he wished you could see, if only to witness your quaint bravery be exsanguinated from you at the sight of his amusement. 

Still, you’re not wrong.  

The dry air of the midwinter night must be dipping below the double-digit negatives. A frigid cold that Ghost himself had scarcely noticed on his expedition to your estate – shielded by many layers; woollen fleece under windbreaker under thick, gore-tex parka, face kept warm by his balaclava, fingers protected from frostbite by waterproof gloves. 

It’s a short ride to exfil by snowmobile, less than ten minutes – but, in all likelihood, long enough that the exposure could kill you by the time he hauled you to the helicopter.  

Long enough that it might freeze the mucus of your throat and lungs into crystalline shards, might blacken and petrify your extremities, might have your exposed skin sloughing off in a few days' time.  

Ghost knows he must return you to base alive. But, alive is the only condition that is expected of him. No expectation of unharmed. So, he is left to place bets on whether you’ll survive the journey.  

He could make a sport of it.  

He plays with your possible fates as though they were marbles in the palm of his hand, rolling them between fingers and uncaring if he drops them. 

“You might,” he chides gruffly, finally offering you a response. “It’d be your own fault for wearing a fuckin’ tissue.”  

His glower scrutinises you as he releases his hand from the doorknob, whose rattling must have informed you that he intended to drag you outdoors. He keeps his other gripped around your bicep, wrenchingly tight, he anticipates, hopes, that his grasp might leave bruises on your soft skin. You, slippery vermin, seem liable to flee at any moment, so he justifies it to himself.  

He watches your chest rapidly rise and fall, gratuitously exposed décolletage shimmering with a thin coating of sweat, it glows silky in the moonlight that illuminates you.  

You, standing as still as you can muster, covered only by your peony pink lingerie and a black hood over your head, hands bound with thick black cable ties – look like a scene out of a snuff film.  

Maybe you’ll end up in one. 

He finds himself silently appreciative you don’t have the satisfaction of seeing how long his hedonistic glare lingers on your cleavage; on the tightening of the edges of your lacy cups, cutting into the swell of your breasts with each of your quaking breaths, allowing them to pillow out of the top.  

Still, a small derisive scoff escapes you through the fabric. “I didn’t anticipate an outing.”  

You facetious little shit. Almost makes him laugh. 

Fine.  

With a shrill rip of Velcro, he tears open one of the flaps of a pocket on his tactical vest, plucking out a loudly rustling emergency blanket; a foil shawl folded neatly into a rectangle the size of a playing card, tucked into a plastic pouch.  

You step onto your back foot in an anxious reflex at the noise, little rabbit, maybe you’re expecting the worst. He hopes you are. 

But he’s doing you a favour. He grimaces in revulsion at the acknowledgement of that fact. Resents that you might be thankful for it. Tells himself it’s for the good of the mission – nothing more, nothing less. Reminds himself how much he’d otherwise relish in watching your skin turn indigo, left exposed to be ruined by the fatal ice of your country’s stark winter.  

Unwrapping it promptly, he tosses the thin foil to unfurl it, before floating it behind you. He pulls it over your shoulders, watching you wince at the sensation of it brushing against your bare skin. With rough haste he grabs hold your bound wrists, tugging them upwards and shoving the edges of the foil into your grip. 

“Thanks,” you murmur, a disingenuous show of sarcastic gratitude, as you roll your shoulders to adjust its coverage, holding the emergency cape tightly in your bound hands. The fabric of your hood sucks inward against your nose and mouth as you draw in a lengthy breath.  

“Don’t thank me,” he grunts, as he finally unlocks and pulls open the gargantuan, ostentatious entrance to your mansion; a towering double door, two thick slabs of carved wood. The frigid gale immediately floods into the gaudy foyer, forcing him to squint, its iciness pricking shards at his eyes and threatening to freeze solid the water that lubricates them.  

“Rgh – fuck,” you groan through gritted teeth, faltering bravery quickly giving way to squeaking panic. Your entire body tenses at the sudden gust of ice, toes curling and head twisting away from the blast of ice.  

He spectates amusedly as you immediately pull the thin foil to better cover yourself, admires as you struggle to do so while your wrists are bound.  

He adds, “…only delaying the inevitable.”  

Your negligée billows in the invasive wind, exposing your skin even further to the frost; not to say that otherwise it would do much to protect you from it.  

He takes an impatient grip of the back of your neck, the impact of his palm on your nape loud enough to emit a smack. He burrows his fingers into the fleshy bands of your tendons, driving you ruthlessly you towards the exit. Holds you upright by the neck like trapped game as you stumble over your bare feet.  

“Move.”  

You didn’t expect to be gracious of the sack the dog had secured over your head.  

Your unstable breathing warms your cheeks, the hot vapour of your adrenaline pumping from your lungs is trapped in by the thick black cotton, preventing the membranes of your nostrils freezing solid.  

The vice like grip of your hunter has not faltered, dragging you by the neck down the winding stone steps of your estate – the slabs free of snow by virtue of the heated coils beneath them, a renovation you yourself had requested. Of course, your husband had obliged. 

But your abductor isn’t steering you down your driveway, it seems, as you are instead led off the path.  

A gasping shriek jumps from your throat as your feet touch the layer of powder, snow packing between your toes; the frost immediately burns the soles as though you tread over shattered glass.  

“Where are we going,” you question through a clenched jaw, chattering with the cold, having to push your weak voice out of your seizing diaphragm. 

As you had anticipated, he says nothing. 

Stays dead silent, the peculiar beast.  

You’re frightened of him. Suddenly unconfident in your attempts to read him.  

It’s typically your strongest talent, a perfectly honed skill – reading men.  

Every one of them like a children’s book, predilections and intentions so blatant that they may as well have been scribbled in crayon. They believe wholeheartedly that they are mysterious, too cunning to be understood, so mistaken in their conceit; expecting that you as a mere woman are simply unable to comprehend them. 

Yet you have made a craft of determining what makes each one tick. Disassembling them like the gears and screws of a clock, surveying their quirks and components through your looking glass.  

Once reduced to their basic constituents, their most primordial parts, they are all the same. Always want the same thing. Always boil down to the same creature.  

Dogs. 

You’ve gotten good at baiting them. Leashing them. Taming them.  

This one is guarded. Keeps his teeth bared, keeps you guessing when he might maul you.  

So far, the only quirk of this one that you been able to deduce is that he wants you to be scared of him. Doing his best to terrorise you with his threats while enacting none of them.  

If he wanted to hurt you, or rape you, or kill you, countless opportunities to do so have been presented to him. You’ve been offered up to him so freely you may as well have been gifted to him wrapped in a bow.  

And yet, he hasn’t unwrapped you.  

That’s where your scrutiny has failed you. Like static distorting a radio signal.  

He provides you no tells. Tips no hand.  

He continues to act as though he is yet to impart his worst upon you. Vague about his intentions with you, in spite of his wandering eye. At least that is consistent with what you would expect from any of the dogs you have so far encountered. Acts too good, too moral, too chaste to take you; yet still gropes and licks and fingers and fucks you with his wanton glower. All the same.  

His claws cut deep into the cartilage of your neck as though he might hang you from it, unaffected by your whimpers nor your looming hypothermia. You feel it sinking beneath your skin. Freezes your nerves, turns the blood in your arteries into icy sludge, sends your muscles into irrepressible spasms. Your lungs ache, forced to suck down the very air that will inevitably freeze them solid.  

You gasp as you feel your knees knock against something solid; the dull ring of thick metal. 

His talons release your neck, finally, though you find yourself immediately longing for the warmth of his grip – the nape of your neck prickling with gooseflesh as it’s bitten by the frigid cold. 

Quick to thwart your opportunity at freedom, he takes prompt hold of you, gloved hands shoving past your foil cape and tucking under your arms. You squeak as you are lifted, uncertain how high off the ground you might be, though grateful that your frozen feet are finally free from their bed of snow.  

You’re lowered, then, your feet and ankles quickly parted by whatever frosty metal is now beneath you – then he drops you, and you land on your pelvis with a sore thud, abruptly bestriding whatever vehicle it must be. A snowmobile, you suspect.  

You feel him mount the vehicle behind you, his form hulking even when you can’t see it. You feel his breathing through the fabric on the top of your head. Heaving thighs on either side of you, you’re nestled between them. He even tugs you back with an arm hooked around your stomach, so you’re pressed more firmly against him, prevented from wriggling free. A couple fewer layers of gear and his body heat might even bring you comfort.  

Through his touch alone he seems unbothered by your proximity, by the pressure of your ass against his crotch. Not lascivious, though not disquieted. Steals no grabs, no rogue touches of any of your more intimate parts – though you’re not daft enough to assume he would shy away from it.  

You can feel the fleshy mass behind his trousers despite the thickness of the weatherproof fabric. Formidable even soft.  

Perhaps you could tempt him.  

With just a shimmy, an innocent readjustment of your ass between his legs – you offer just a touch more pressure. You might bump against him while he rides through the snow, might feel that pliable weight turn rigid against your back.  

You admit that he doesn’t seem the type to offer you special treatment if you offered your cunt to him. He’s made it known that he thinks you’re a slut, after all. In your experience, though, it works in your favour most of the time. Where’s the harm in trying?

But you feel the fabric of your sack hood twitch and quiver as his head lowers beside yours, he growls into your ear; 

“That’s not gonna help you.”  

Fine. Whatever. 

Worth a shot. 

It sounded as though he had uttered it through a grin; a very slight, near imperceptible drip of amusement in his malicious tone.  

But, with your hands bound, near naked, and blinded, your survival is dependent on him. Rather, it's entirely up to him.  

So you play it cool.  

“I… I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you sheepishly respond, sweet and naïve, you get back into character. 

He huffs derisively, impatiently, perhaps. You let his arms envelop you as they reach for what must be the handles of the snowmobile in front of you, quickly deafened by the roar of the engine as he tugs on the throttle.  

Your body is abruptly forced backwards, tossed against him like a ragdoll as he suddenly accelerates - your fabric mask now provides you utterly no protection from the icy wind as it breaks through the weave. Your foil cape billows in the gale of his speed, rendering you entirely defenceless against the vicious knives of the cold as he speeds through the snow.   

Dropping your head, curling inwards on instinct, you find yourself nestling deeper into his shrouding form if only to shield yourself from the deathly cold he has purposefully exposed you to.  

After what feels like an agonising hour of having your bare skin dragged over a steel grater, you feel the snowmobile begin to decelerate, its roaring engine growing quieter and eventually grunting to a stop.   

You had thought you might be granted a reprieve from the painful gusting wind once the mobile finally came to a halt; but you’re still in a whirlwind of ice and glass, so disoriented you feel as though you’ve been spun on your heel and then cast out into the barren wilderness to find your own way.  

In the malevolent hurricane you lose your grip on your foil blanket, your only respite, it flies off into the ambiguous void of black forced upon you by your hood.  

But that mechanical thunder is unmistakable – an aircraft you were well acquainted with. A helicopter.  

A transport you frequented in your days of luxury, often to your warmer getaway home further south. To your Petit Trianon, another gift from your husband – one that acted as a clear means of getting rid of you for weeks at a time. Not that you complained. 

The begrudging protection of your hunter is stolen from you as he dismounts, leaving you utterly exposed to the blizzard, shivering with such intensity that your muscles burn with the acid they involuntarily excrete.  

But you’re quickly hauled off the vehicle, gloved grip under your arms once again, picked up with ease as you feel your body get tossed over his shoulder like a sack of flour. His thick arm hooks over your hip, you feel the veil of your babydoll flutter up and expose your bare ass to the icy gale - it humiliates you as if spanking you with its frozen hand.  

You hear the metallic rumble of a rolling door amidst the bellow of the rotating blades. 

“’Bout fuckin’ time.” The irate roar of a new man.  

You bounce on the shoulder in your stomach as you are carried within, listening as the door is slammed shut. After a few steps you are unceremoniously dropped onto a seat, a weak yelp escapes you at the pain of the impact.  

“Jesus fucking Christ, LT.” Yet another. Scottish.  

LT. Lieutenant? Military?  

Blind and defenceless, you stay seated but adjust yourself so that you sit upright, exerting every effort to catch your breath and steady your chattering bones. But despite effort, your body rolls around in its seat as the helicopter presumably begins its wobbly ascent.  

“What?” Your hunter growls.  

“Couldn’t give her a jacket?”  

“Why the fuck would I do that.”  

“It’s negative fifteen out there. Look at her, she’s just about blue.”  

“Mm. Maybe I should’ve given her the chance to pick out her favourite mink coat, eh?”  

You hear a huff of laughter from another man. “You just wanted to keep her in her knickers.” 

“Mh. Might loosen up her husband.”  

A chortle. “Could loosen up anybody.”  

Dogs. 

You stay silent and listen shrewdly.  

“Bravo Six to Gold Eagle Actual – double jackpot. We’re RTB.”  

Military, you are now certain. You can tell by the codeword gibberish without needing to understand it. You wish now that you had watched enough Western war movies to be able to translate it – but they’re all banned in Russia, of course.  

There’s a quiet murmur of a static-ridden voice emerging from a radio, but it is drowned out by the humming of the helicopter. 

“Fuck’d you do to Zakhaev?” Your hunter asks, throaty voice almost taunting. 

Your husband. Was he in the aircraft with you? Could you call for him?  

“Squealed like a pig when he came to. Knocked him out again.” The Scotsman. 

But, in spite of your effort to distinguish them, the unfamiliar voices quickly begin to blur together.  

“Tracks.”  

“Separate them before he wakes up.”  

“Why?” A new voice.  

“Can’t have him knowing that we’ve got her already. We need to surprise him with it.”  

“Kinda fucked up, Cap.”  

“Ts’all in a days work, Sergeant.”  

Captain. Sergeant. British Army? Airforce?  

There’s a few moments of silence, you shuffle disquietly in your seat. Oh, if only you could see what was happening. It was already hard enough to hear them over the roaring of the chopper. Deaf, dumb, and blind. 

“Christ, she’s a looker, though, isn’t she?” The Sergeant.  

A chuckle follows from the Scotsman. “Can’t even see her face, mate.”  

“Don’t need to.”  

“Never know. Could be all botched by filler and botox and shite. All those fuckin’ oligarchs are.”  

“Mm. Nah. I’ve seen the photos.”  

“Take a long hard look at ‘em, did ye?”  

“Definitely hard. Dunno about long.”  

A laugh. “You nasty fucker.”  

Dogs. 

You’re even further discomforted by the fact that your hunter knows you can understand every single word that these men are uttering around you. And, evidently, feels no need to inform his comrades that you know exactly what they are saying about you.  

He wants you to feel uncomfortable.  

He wants you nervous.  

You hear the thud of boots against the metal floor, uncertain of whose nor which direction they are coming from, though they approach you. You shrivel on instinct, curling in on yourself to hide your near-nudity from whichever of the lecherous men is standing before you. 

You jump, squeaking in fright as something heavy is tossed around your shoulders. Fabric. Wool, judging by the thickness and scratchiness of it; you use your bound hands to grab at the edges of it to blanket yourself, finally able to conceal your body from them.  

“Согрейтесь.” Warm yourself up.  

The Captain, if you remember his rumbling cadence correctly. 

“You’re too soft, Cap. She’s a prisoner of war not a fuckin’ damsel.” Your hunter.  

The man who had given you the blanket addresses him. “We need her alive, don’t we? I’m keeping her alive.”  

“Fuck’s sake. She’ll be fine.”  

The charitable one speaks to you again, voice low and close, as though he has bent down intending for only you to hear it.  

“Он ничего тебе не сделал, да?” He didn’t do anything to you, did he? 

“Oh, piss off. Who do you think I am?” Your abductor immediately disputes, having apparently overheard.   

You consider your options. Maybe this captain could take pity on you, if you played your cards right. You can deduce his type through his words and actions already. Nobleman. White knight. It’s a façade, of course. If he’s a captain as the others say, he has probably orchestrated this entire operation.  

Though, inexplicably, you decide honesty is your safest course. You want an ally out of your hunter.  

“Нет, он меня не трогал.” No, he didn’t touch me. 

“Told you.” Your hunter grunts.  

A laboured sigh follows from the captain. “I never know with you, Riley.”  

He scoffs disdainfully.  

Leaves an ugly silence.  

“I’m not an animal.”  

Next chapter ⇨

[captainpondlilly]

Okay! The Gilear plush has arrived. This is my best attempt at all of his lines. Two have been unintelligible to me, and several are pretty long and fast which made it hard to follow.

My search history is.. hospitals near me, foot stuck in object, head stuck in object

You're low, he's low, It's Gilear's day baby!*

A guy on the street kicked me in the nuts as hard he could

I don't like "lunchlad"

Help me to understand what I have done to deserve this

My horoscope says "today is a good day to die motherfucker"

I ate a quick cup of yogurt on the way over here to bolster my spirits after I changed, I'm ever so sorry

What do you mean "When" life gives you lemons

I went to apply for the guidance counselor position but I was usurped by a drug dealing werewolf named Jawbone

In my haste to put the armor on I buckled the leg plate and think I clipped the tip of my penis against one of the leg plates and Everytime I move it feels like it might fall off so I ASSURE you demon I have no pride to speak of!

In highschool I was voted "Most Likely To Get Pushed Out Of A Tree"

My car was repossessed by the ride share app that I was working for

It's actually a good thing that no one came to my birthday party because the bounce house flooded and was swept out to sea

I just discovered that *all* of my emails have been going to everyone's spam

Unfortunately I have been banned from that hot air balloon service not because of anything that happened to me in particular but the guys who run it just sort of know my whole deal

Mmm this yogurt tastes like *potatoes*

I asked the woman at Home Depot why my plants kept dying and she said it seemed like they were reaching away from the sun

I've found out recently that one of my shoes is so filled with mildew because a pipe in my bedroom is leaking and I've developed a fungal infection in my foot which I didn't know was possible for elves to get

I don't think that I've ever "Peaked" in that we started neutral and have been going downhill ever since

I am currently trapped in a storm drain. The bottom half of me is above the ground, the other is below

Another Own Goal for Gilear Faeth, yes

Everyone knows you eat 7 spiders in your sleep every year, but I have a bunch coming into me the backway

My sandcastle I'm afraid was destroyed, as I was about to finish it, the tide came in and with it a man holding a bazooka who shot me and killed me

I know you're not going to believe this but Ive just been kicked by a snake

I found out the hard way that people can legally reject status as an emergency contact

The title of my autobiography is going to be Gilear Faeth: Please Stop

On my way here I was carrying a large bowl of Italian wedding soup which shattered on the ground in front of me and several of the small pasta balls rolled through the cracks and alerted vermin to my presence. I've since learned after a trip to the hospital I am deathly allergic to the sting of millipedes which is a way of me saying I need someone to come down to the hospital and pay for this. There is a doctor holding a gun to my head and now that I think about it this clinic is in the back of a storage unit and I think have gone to the wrong place

he said and I quote "he'd stomp my goon ass" if I ever got on his bus again

Gorthalax it was very nice to meet you, you've made a cuckold of me

We're the throw up boys!*

I've been informed that the brownies I consumed were laced with cannabis and rat poison

I am completely unprepared for the perils ahead and am deeply frightened, I'll go get the coffee

A gorilla monster punched me so hard in the back of the head I died

Today I have been hit by 3 scooters

Everytime you squeeze my hand it breaks several small bones

My imaginary friend as a child ghosted me because he said I was too depressing

Do you want me to go back? I warn you, it will break me

Can I interest you in an herbal soda? You must understand I am an intern at a ponzi scheme*

When I go to sleep at night I dream of a world where I might be able to walk through a field without stepping on a rake or gopher hole

If anyone needs me... I will be surprised.

If it wasn't for bad luck, Id have no luck is both true and what was written upon the billboard I crashed through

I wonder if any of these will feature in Junior year 👀

*Thanks to @cappa-cappa for telling me the lines I wasn't able to make out!!

[world-of-aus]

Hi, Hello and Welcome To Today’s Gym Thought..

Feat. Criminal!Bucky

Momma I’m in love with a criminal???

The warehouse was abandoned, quiet, the only sound was the soft crunch of the occasional broken glass beneath your foot.  

Detective Walker is ahead of you gun drawn high as he makes his way through the warehouse, every corner he turns a silent prayer is on your lips that he’s not here despite the sources that had brought the two of you here. 

“Walker it’s a bust,” you try, “he’s not here, look at the place it’s empty.” 

The blonde turns advancing on you, you don’t back down meeting his glare. “The perfect grounds for vermin like him!” he hisses. “I am not leaving this place till every square inch has been checked, every crate turned over, every office examined, do you understand detective!”  

“I'm not your enemy here walker get your goddamn gun out of my face.” You grit gesturing to the gun he waves around wildly.  “Yeah, well you’re acting like it, why don’t you be useful for once and go check one of the damn offices, I got the floor.” 

You turn without another word, heading your chiefs warning of your partner from earlier, “don’t let him deter you from what the two of you are going in to do, he’s a hothead detective y/l/n – reactive, you need to stay cool, one of you needs to be the brains of this operation.” 

Taking the rusty stairs two at a time you make it up to the lone dusty office that overlooks the warehouse, you spot Walker creeping through the shadows, eyes and gun trained ahead. You lead with your gun as you step into the office, it's quiet, eerily dark. You descend further into the room, looking one way then another. You examine the crooks and crannies for anything, you find nothing, you let out a silent breath, he wasn’t here.  

A curse leaves your breath when you turn and find him. You’ve got your gun raised and pressed against this chest in record time, Walker's growl of your name piercing the stale air.  

The brunette gives you a pointed stare, “Answer him.”  

“I’m fine Walker, nothing up here, just a rat!” you grit, holding the man’s gaze before you the whites of his teeth shine in the moonlight gleaming through the broken glass. 

“Alright I'm heading out to the docks, stop messing around up there!” 

You want to roll your eyes, but they stay trained on the man before you, “What are you doing here!” you hiss when the warehouse falls quiet once more. 

His grin only grows, hands slowly coming up to cradle the gun you have pressed against his chest, he could easily disarm you if he wanted. “They said you were looking for me.” 

Your jaw clenches, “We are, and you’re not supposed to be here.” 

“Worried for me Lisichka?” 

You press the gun harder into his chest, he chuckles, “let’s get one thing straight here Barnes my job is always to get the right guy not a wrongfully convicted one, so no unfortunately I’m not worried for you, I’m worried about locking up the wrong guy.” 

He chuckles again before he does exactly what you knew he would, he’s got you disarmed and in his arms in a second. His front is flush to your back, lips by the hollow of your ear, “you know Lisichka, for someone not worried about me, you sure make my safety your top priority.” 

“Don’t think too much of it Barnes, I’m just doing my job.” 

His laughter ghosts over the skin of your neck, fingers trailing along your clothed skin as he circles you like a predator, he stops in front of you. “It’s endearing how much you care detective, though you know you don’t need too.” 

You roll your eyes, “I refuse to watch the wrong person be incarcerated because of revenge.” 

He touches your cheek, “Lisichka.” 

There’s a bang from downstairs Walker growling your name, “Y/l/n, get down here, we got another lead, bastards moving!” 

Your eyes flicker, from the door back to his, he’s grinning, “Go lisichka, we’ll be seeing each other soon.” 

Walkers screaming your name now, your feet carrying you out the door, and when you look back he’s gone – like a ghost. 

[arcadia-of-pluto]

Twist of Fate; Chapter Fifteen

Pairings; LADS OT4 x reader

Word count; 2.6k

Themes; isekai, eventual smut

Rating; 18+ for swearing and mature content

Notes; Last chapter for the weekend (I say weekend but it's only friday–) I'm really thinking about posting chapter sixteen, but I think I need to put more distance between my chapters I'm posting and what I'm currently working on, since twenty is real close to sixteen. I'll probably be working on chapter twenty this weekend and if I get to twenty-one, I might post sixteen! 🩷

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Masterlist

Melodious music serenades the luxurious banquet hall that’s illuminated by dreamy lighting.

Sylus calmly guides you across the dance floor, swaying to the song’s slow rhythm. He blocks the prying shadows around you both and when you look up, all you see is his face, which is quite infuriating because it’s a good face. It’s distracting.

“Y/n, you need to be smarter if you want to retaliate against me,” Sylus says with a small sigh. “Sorry, I’m not really used to these kinds of social gatherings,” You glance away from him with a small, sheepish smile and clumsily lift your heel off of his foot.

“Did you actually get information on the aether core?”

“You can choose not to believe me,” Sylus muses as you continue your dance. Catching a glimpse of a flashing red dot in the shadows, you use your hand that’s on his shoulder to push him in the opposite direction.

“But they wouldn’t leak such important information. Unless..” You trail off, trying to get him to talk about what you heard over the earpiece earlier, “It’s a trap.” “Exactly.” A smile tugs at the corner of Sylus’ lips, almost as if he’s proud of you for coming to that realization.

You look back up at him, a little concerned. “You’re not going to throw yourself into their trap, are you?” The man shakes his head before speaking with a smile, “Be content with your role. Don’t scare away the fish that already bit the hook.”

You sigh, chewing on your bottom lip for a moment, “There’s…eight evol bombs, fifteen high-frequency guns…They really want you dead. Sylus, you made a lot of enemies.” “This isn’t the first time it’s happened,” He replies nonchalantly as the music reaches a crescendo. The notes from the orchestra are layers on top of one another, like surging tidal waves.

The lights dim to the passionate beats and shadows surround you both on all sides.

“You have something up your sleeve, right? Even if you have a death wish, I don’t intend to die here with you,” You harshly whisper, feeling a panic build up in your chest.

“Don’t worry, you won’t die that easily.” Is all he says. What the hell is that supposed to mean?

Boom

A deafening explosion drowns out the music and ensuing screams. The beautiful hall is instantly reduced to rubble.

Amidst the surging chaos, Sylus tightens his grip on your hand and while your heartbeat thunders in your ears, you can barely make out a scoff coming from him. To your surprise, you see him nonchalantly crush something before throwing it into the debris.

“You…had the detonator this whole time?” You ask, ears slightly ringing from the explosion as you look up at him. He laughs, a smile on his lips, “The vermin were taking their sweet time. I was getting impatient.”

 “The metaflux is quickly increasing and there’s more than one wanderer…be careful.” You look around at the rubble, hand subconsciously squeezing his tighter. Your free hand quickly pulls your gun from your thigh holster to fire several shots at the wanderer that was about to attack Sylus.

“Well, that was close..” You let out a sigh of relief. “How long do you think you’ll last with an outdated weapon like that?” He asks, jerking his chin in the direction of your pistols. “Hey..” You pout, holding your gun close to your chest.

They were like your babies. You couldn’t just get rid of them.

Sylus tosses over another gun and you fumble with it in your full hands. “Don’t waste your efforts.” he says, not elaborating on what he means. You shake your head with a small sigh, re-holstering your other guns to hold the new ones. They were definitely lighter than your old ones and seemed to be better made.

“Did Sherman make you do this? Where’s the aether core? Hey, answer me!” After you had handled the last wanderer, you found a henchman cowering in the corner. You press the muzzle of your gun against the back of his head as you spit-fired questions at him.

“You haven’t won yet! We still have a backup plan…! That thing is terrifying. When it shows up, not even Sylus– agh!” Black-red mist throws the man into a broken stone pillar. With a scream, he falls to the ground like a puppet whose strings were just cut. You jerk your head toward Sylus with a glare. “Violence should be used strategically,” He says with a shrug, calmly wiping the blood off of his face as the mist disappears from his hands.

“I would’ve believed you if your hands were clean,” You grumble with a small sigh, annoyed that you have to fight in heels– which is insane by the way. You’ve almost fallen over so many times.

Despite the venue being cleared, strong energy fluctuations manifest above you both and shake the ground you stand on. “What’s making that noise? Are there still some left?” You rub the back of your neck, before remembering that the henchman was talking about something being their backup plan.

“Let’s go.” Sylus turns to walk away and you throw your hands up in annoyance, “Where are we going?” The older man grabs your wrist and swiftly starts walking. “To the place that has what you want,” He says, his fingers deftly wrapped around your wrist.

The almost transparent elevator quickly ascends and the colourful night-time scenery is obscured by the clouds. The elevator doors creak open on the roof and your eyes widen as you notice the huge wormhole in the sky.

A sense of panic and foreboding claws at your chest from the image of something huge and alien-looking in the sky.

“What is this place..?” You manage to say as you both step out from the elevator and onto the dilapidated roof. Countless pieces of metal are strewn across the spacious rooftop. The area around you was shrouded in mist and in the haze, barely visible, are abandoned collection vessels, transporters, and other devices.

Broken steel bars poke out from the overgrown weeds. Rusty frames are propped up, outlining a bygone era. “It looks like a laboratory for experiments or something..” You murmur, hands gripping your guns tighter.

“It was one many years ago. But they abandoned it a while back,” Sylus finally answers, turning to look at you with his thumbs in his pockets. “They?” You parrot, head cocking to the side. Stepping over broken fragments and glass shards, Sylus’ tone remains aloof, “EVER.”

You pause at that bit of information. The EVER Cooperation? They were the leading force of intelligence in Linkon. Doing all kinds of research and good. Why were they ever in the N109 Zone?

As the most prestigious international business group, it basically supports the whole of Linkon City. So…how could they be involved with the N109 Zone?

“...I heard that before the Chronorift Catastrophe, the N109 Zone was the most prosperous tech hub so I guess it makes sense that EVER used it as a research base.” You say as you nod your head, managing to make sense of it before Sylus tears that thought down, “You really are a naive Linkon citizen.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” You raise a brow. Hell, you weren’t even a real Linkon citizen to begin with. You weren’t even from here. You were just going off what you knew from the game itself!

Sylus gives you a look, crossing his arms over his chest, “Many locations were affected by that catastrophe, yet only the N109 Zone turned into a wasteland. Why do you think that is?”

Ohh…You recall some unverified theories, but your mind is a mess right now. You can’t think of anything useful to this situation.

“We’re here.” Sylus stops walking and you almost run into his firm back.

Slow vibrations resembling heartbeats pulsate through the sky and you look up to see the Deepspace Tunnel– at least that’s what you assume it is. You’ve never seen one since being in the game, after all, but it must be that, since you had no other explanation. It was eerily beautiful.

Dense clouds and vortexes churn amidst the darkness and occasionally, a stream of light flashes across the night sky like heat lightning. The silent tunnel is like a telescope peeking into the universe.

“The Deepspace Tunnel…This is the first time I’ve been so close to it,” You murmur, taking a deep breath as tiny beams of light enter your line of sight. You can’t help, but take a step closer– before you notice a stone fixture. “It’s a Flux Nexus. I saw one in the no-hunt zone!” You exclaim, remembering what it looked like from that one mission with Xavier, before you entered the game.

“Then you should know what it contains. These fluctuations aren’t produced by normal protocores,” Sylus says from next to you and you nod your head.

The aether core.

Sylus stands next to you, looking at you with his eyes that have unfathomable depths. “Think about it first. Once you take it out, there’s no going back.” You take a deep breath. You’re already here, why would you give up now?

Gritting your teeth, you put your hand on the Flux Nexus’s intricate patterns. The power of resonance instantly flows through your body and dazzling light seeps out from your palm. A shiny, floating gem appears from the slab. “The aether core..” You reach out to touch it and as soon as your fingers brush against it, the ground starts to shake violently.

A storm appears.

Violent fluctuations lash out from the Deepspace Tunnel’s entrance. A huge shadow emerges from the vortex. It’s getting closer and closer. Its wings blot out all light in the sky.

“Is this…the backup plan they were talking about?!” You quickly turn toward Sylus, worriedly, and he chuckles, “We finally get something presentable.” A huge protofield unfolds before you and then, the ferocious wanderer charges toward you both at breakneck speed.

It’s a large blue-black bird, an Arbiterwings. It might be a bit difficult to take on without resonating with Sylus, so you’d have to try. Its feathers were made of crystalized metaflux, so it seems like that would be the way to take it down, destroy the feathers and the bird will fall.

A blinding light comes from your palm as you press it against Sylus’ shoulder, concentrating on resonating with him as the bird flew about in the dark red protofield. Finally– You break apart from Sylus and hold your guns up. “Ready?” You ask and without waiting for his response, you begin shooting at the bird.

 The first didn’t take too long, maybe four or five minutes at most but, once it was over, you quickly turn to look at Sylus excitedly before you realize you’re not on the roof...

What...

The scenery before you is blurry, but you can make out that it’s a war ravaged, desolate planet.

“Where…am I?” You mumble to yourself as you look around.

All you can see is darkness. The sky is dark with smoke pluming from the burning planet, cracks in the ground reveal bright reddish orange magma.

Your heartbeat stutters in your chest as your gaze slowly moves down to your trembling, bloody hands.

“There’s…so much..blood.” Why were your hands so bloody? What was going on?

“You must press on.” Sylus? You quickly look around, tears pricking your eyes in your terror, desperate to see a familiar face in this hellscape.

But you can barely make out the figure in front of you. His blurry figure seemed to have corroded crystals growing on his shoulders, neck, and lower half. You could see his bare chest with dark blue and purple veins clearly visible. “That’s..” You murmur, eyebrows furrowing in confusion.

Was he turning into a wanderer like those people from before?

You felt his thin, spindly hand squeeze yours around the hilt of the sword that was plunged into his chest.

“Because…if you don’t..There’s no going back.”

His voice was coming from this thing?

Your hands shake as you realize you stabbed Sylus and you have no idea why. Seriously— What's going on? 

“Sylus–” An inferno blazes before your eyes, your vision blurring and amidst the blood and fire, the Deepspace Tunnel appears. It shakes violently. “Y/n, you must press on.” You flinch as a red electrical current strikes before your eyes and once your vision clears, you notice Sylus is holding his hand out toward you.

“The life you owe me– now is not the time to repay it.” He says and as you look at the hand reaching out toward you.

You see Sylus’s cold face..there was a hint of worry beneath his usual gaze. But there also seems to be a shadow above him. You can’t help but reach out as well.

Unprecedented power swells between your intertwined fingers and, instantly, you feel a tremor from deep within your heart. Something flows through your veins. The wanderer’s dissipating particles fall like a misty rain, yet a brighter light pierces through the haze.

You lift your free hand up to shield your eyes from the light, your eyes squinting as you tried to make out where the light was coming from. The aether core emits countless rays of golden light that seeps into your chest. The warm, familiar power continues to surge.

You’re not sure how much time has passed when the fluctuations around your body slowly start to subside. The movements within your body cease. It’s as if an ocean’s roaring waves have silently calmed down, turning into ripples on a lake’s surface.

A tiny golden stone hovers in the sky above your head and you reach out for it, holding it between your thumb and index finger.

“So this is the aether core…” It shines for a moment before a crack appears on it. You quickly turn toward Sylus in shock, noticing he’s looking up at the sky. “...Sylus?” You question and he closes his eyes before saying, “Its power belongs to you now. Naturally, the vessel will break as a result.”

“To...me?” You raise a brow as the white haired man looks at you. “Isn’t this what you wanted?” He asks, looking away from you. He turns his back to you to walk away with you being dragged behind him.

“Hey! Where are you taking me?” You say, exasperated. Your feet hurt from wearing your heels all day and fighting in them. “Wait– This is...?” He stops walking as you stare down at your hands with wide eyes. He wasn’t even grabbing your wrist.

He lifts your hands with a small sigh, an invisible force binding them together. He shakes his arm back and forth, your hand being forced to move with him. “Let go already!” You groan, glaring at your arms as you notice they weren’t even that close together. They were a few inches apart, so why were they stuck together?

Then, a deep orange light swirls between your hands. The light circles around both your wrists with a string connecting the circle together like handcuffs. “What…is this thing?” You question, tugging at your hand before looking up at Sylus, who sighs.

He doesn’t respond and the powerful tremor that shook the Deepspace Tunnel ignites a chain reaction within the N109 Zone.

Those shadows, who believed they controlled Onychinus, are eliminated from fate’s tapestry. Unable to see the undercurrents beneath the water’s surface, you can only smell the scent of smoke becoming more poignant as it’s carried by the wind.

Structures crumble and collapse, and Mephisto’s wings pierce through the boundless darkness. He’s accompanied by the distant tolling of a bell. 

It’s almost like an announcement, as if the world is saying…The true leader of Onychinus has returned.

Taglist; @orphicmeliora , @yoongi-tunes, @mitzkooni, @hiqhkey, @tanspostsblog

[kurogane2512]

Kinktober 2023 day 2

69/face sitting, temperature play, degradation with....

Harbinger! Fem! reader. Also contains a bit of angry sex. Signora can use both cryo and pyro powers simultaneously.

Everything happened in the blink of an eye and you couldn't comprehend the sudden turn of events, but here you were lying on the floor of the 8th Harbinger's office with the Harbinger herself above you.

"You have been running your mouth for too long today." Signora harshly spat while gazing down at you, her heel pressing on your shoulder as she towered over you.

"Oh, just admit mine is better! It'll be faster and more efficient!" you retorted with a glare and Signora only pressed her heel further in causing you to hiss slightly.

"Don't act all high and mighty on me. If you want to please the Tsaritsa then you do things my way."

"Your way is going to cost us useless soldiers! I can handle all that on my own, why can't you trust me?!"

Signora's eye squinted, "Trust you? Hah! Don't make me laugh, you pathetic vermin!"

"Don't you dare call me that! I can turn this over if I tried and you wouldn't stand a chance against me!"

"Oh? How about we test that out?~"

"What? This is how you want to end this? Us fighting and wasting time for nothing?! Rosa, come on!"

"Tch, shut up for once!"

Signora removed her foot from your shoulder and swiftly turned around before sitting down on your face, her core placed right above your mouth while she discarded her cape and looked back at you from over her shoulder.

"You are so annoying today. Use that tongue of yours for something better."

She ordered and you tried to reply but your voice was muffled through her clothes, sending vibrations up her cunt making her shiver. You knew there was no way out now; and frankly, you were too turned on to do anything else. You grabbed her plump ass and gave it a few squeezes, kneading the flesh in your palms making her sigh.

"Get started already, you useless fool."

"So impatient...." you thought as you pushed her underwear aside to expose her dripping cunt to you before giving it a lick. You found it adorable how needy she would become whenever you engaged in this act, and who were you deny the Fair Lady's pleasure when she was so eager for it. You felt her press her body further on your mouth and you were practically suffocated but composed yourself and lifted her up slightly to plunge your tongue inside.

Signora moaned and leaned forward as soon as your tongue thrusted inside her. Your tongue lapped up her delicious folds followed by wrapping your lips on her clit and sucking on the bundle of nerves, an incoherent moan leaving her mouth at that. She could feel the prideful smirk on your face as she came apart by you, she couldn't bear that humiliation.

"Y-You.... mhm.... don't get ahead of y-yourself.... ngh~"

You suddenly pulled her towards you and thrusted deeply, prodding at her sweet spots as you scissored your tongue inside while pinching and rubbing her clit with your fingers. She gasped loudly and arched back, her eyes rolling to the back of her head feeling her orgasm approach her but she wasn't going to lose so easily. She moved her hands towards your pants to unbutton it and slip inside your underwear.

You were caught by surprise feeling her hand creep inside your underwear and fastened your pace of licking her, trying to make her cum before she could touch you. But it was in vain, the Fair Lady was really ahead of you despite being overwhelmed just a second ago. You whimpered and threw your head back as you suddenly felt a cold sensation on your clit, a grin spreading on Signora's face at your reaction.

"Rosa! Wai— Aaahn!~"

You moaned out again as she thrusted her cold fingers inside your cunt, your legs closing in and squeezing her hand in place but she forcefully spread them again and leaned down to lick your clit now.

"What? You lost all your enthusiasm already? Where is that confidence with which you said I won't stand a chance against you? What a pathetic little tiger~"

You gritted your teeth and tried to get up but her body was keeping you down, not to mention her fingers and mouth. You gasped with every stroke of her icy fingers inside you and every flick of her cold tongue on your clit.

"Who said you can enjoy yourself here? Don't you dare stop working."

She shifted down and her core was on your lips again, you took a deep breath and pulled her hips down to continue licking her. It was practically a competition now of who could make the other cum first, and Signora was more than confident she would win. But she decided against it, she wanted to have more fun. She suddenly sat up and crawled towards your legs before turning around and facing you.

"Be a good girl and keep your voice down; we don't want Marionette and Regrator hearing your pathetic noises, do we?~"

You nodded with a blush and she chuckled then spread your legs more and rubbed her fingers over your folds, gathering your juices.

"Look at you. I barely touched you and you are even wetter than me, didn't think our 6th Harbinger would be such a slut~"

Her words were harsh but they only made you more aroused, she really knew how to use her words against you. She gazed at her fingers being coated with your juices and subconsciously licked her lips before inserting 2 fingers inside. Your head threw back feeling her cold fingers once again as they stroked your walls, prodding at your deep spots in quick thrusts.

"Mhm!~ R-Rosa.... not so fast.... hmm!~"

You desperately tried to keep your voice down but she was intentionally making it harder; frankly, she didn't care if her colleagues could hear you both. Rather, it fueled her pride more that she could get the Harbinger ranked higher than her in such a state. But at the same time, she did feel jealous that your lovely voice could be heard by them.

"I said keep it down. Are you such a slut that you want our colleagues to hear?"

"N-No! But— aaahn!~"

She thrusted inside deeply and you arched up, her icy fingers buried to the hilt. She smirked then leaned down near your clit as an idea occurred to her, "You are practically asking for a punishment here~"

She kept her fingers hilted inside but stopped moving them and instead licked your clit, a breathless whimper coming from deep within you. Your eyes shut tight and you desperately tried to hold something but could only clench the carpet. Her tongue was burning hot, it was not a normal temperature at all. Yet, the next lick you felt was ice cold again. She was switching between her powers with every lick, and soon it wasn't just her tongue but also her fingers.

Your mind was going numb at the overwhelming sensations; surely, if it was someone else then they would have come apart long ago. But Signora knew your limits and how much you could endure, it made things so much fun for her seeing how far she could go. You were breathless now, your voice hoarse from all the screaming and whimpering yet you kept holding on. She smirked and sat up in satisfaction then crawled over and lovingly gazed at you before connecting your lips in a passionate kiss.

You melted into her soft and rosy lips in no time, your tongues intertwining in harmony as if you were starved for each other. At the same time, she started moving her fingers again. She was gentle this time, not torturing you with the temperature play and instead moving in and out slowly but with deep strokes. Her fingers scissored inside you and continuously prodded your sweet spot before she released the kiss and gazed at you, both of you panting together.

"Cum now, do it."

She ordered and a wave of pleasure hit you as you finally released over her fingers, practically drenching them in your essence. She pulled them out and looked at your slick covering her fingers and licked them in contentment, the sight making you aroused once again.

"I told you to keep quiet yet I'm sure your miserable moans were audible in the whole corridor~"

"Whose.... hah.... whose fault do you think that is...."

"Oh? Are you really blaming me? Seems like that punishment wasn't enough~"

Your eyes widened thinking of the implications of that but soon calmed down seeing what she was going to do. She crawled up further and placed her legs around your head before sitting down with her core on your mouth.

"I don't think I have to tell you what you have to do, slut~"

You smirked to yourself and pulled her closer by gripping her thighs and dived your tongue inside her folds. She wasted no time and started grinding on your mouth as well, rubbing her clit with her fingers while rutting on top of you roughly. You felt euphoric watching her on top of you, moaning out in her angelic voice and using you for her own pleasure. Her boobs bounced with her grinding, giving you a marvelous sight to behold.

Her hands gripped your hair now, fingers twirling in your hair and pulling them as she angled forward to make your tongue go deeper. It was downright animalistic; she was putting her full weight on you because she knew you could take it and she had no reserves. Her moans turned to whimpers and breathless gasps, you could tell she was close with how her muscles suddenly contracted on your tongue and she did one hard thrust then moaned loudly while cumming.

Her essence coated your mouth and you worked your way to draw out more as she came down from her high. Her fingers had a deathly grip in your hair as she panted out and watched you beneath her drinking her juices with a satisfied look before getting up and lying beside you, wrapping her arms over your body and embracing you closely.

"I....It's not that I don't trust you, Y/n."

"What? What do you mean?"

"About our talk earlier regarding the mission....it's not that I don't trust you. I just don't want you to do everything yourself and get hurt...."

Your eyes widened in shock but you smiled to yourself feeling her hand gently caress your head, "Don't worry. I can take you using both of your powers, I can surely handle a measly mission like that~"

"Hah~ How arrogant of you, Lady Y/n~"

[thecreaturecodex]

Melixie

Image © Paizo Publishing, presumably, accessed here

[The melixie is in the Bestiary 3, but doesn't have art in that source, being one of three monsters in a two-page spread. @abominationimperatrix found this art for me on a Ukranian Pathfinder blog, and it's definitely PF house style, which makes me wonder if it was posted by the artist somewhere. Anyway, melixies are cute and fun, and I would love to use them in a low level game sometime]

Melixie CR ½ CN Fey This tiny humanoid has the features of a bee—antennae, solid colored eyes without pupils, and chitin over its arms and legs. They buzz about on two pairs of translucent wings.

Melixies are fey creatures with the features of pollinating insects. Bees are the most common, but melixies resembling butterflies, moths, hoverflies and even beetles or thrips are not unheard of. They have an insatiable sweet tooth, and their diet is predominately sugar based. If a melixie can resist consuming their raw ingredients, they can use them to make tiny candies, baked goods and other deserts. Melixie confectionary is famous for both its variety and quality, and some discerning gourmets keep a melixie chef on hand for making treats that both taste great and are less filling.

Melixies believe in working hard, playing hard, and resting hard. They are willing to do even repetitive labor that other fey scoff at, as long as they are properly provisioned with sweets. Consuming a large portion (for their tiny bodies) grants them a burst of energy, allowing them to move exceptionally fast for a brief period before needing to rest and recover. Melixies often use this ability if they are in combat, letting them make hit and run attacks with their acid splashes and stingers (all melixies have a short retractable sting, regardless of the specific insect they resemble). Melixies get along well with arthropods of all kinds. Many melixies raise both regular bees for their honey and giant bees as guard dogs.

Melixie CR ½ XP 200 CN Tiny fey Init +4; Senses low-light vision, Perception +5

Defense AC 16, touch 16, flat-footed 12 (+2 size, +4 Dex) hp 11 (2d6+4) Fort +2, Ref +7, Will +3 DR 2/cold iron

Offense Speed 10 ft., fly 40 ft. (good) Melee sting +7 (1d6-1) Space 2 ½ ft.; Reach 0 ft. Spell-like Abilities CL 2nd, concentration +5 Constant—speak with arthropods At will—acid spray, dancing lights, ghost sound (DC 14) 1/day—ant haul

Statistics Str 9, Dex 19, Con 15, Int 14, Wis 10, Cha 16 Base Atk +1; CMB +3; CMD 12 Feats Weapon Finesse Skills Acrobatics +9 (-3 to jumping), Craft (confectionary) +7, Diplomacy +8, Escape Artist +9, Fly +17, Perception +5, Profession (beekeeping) +5, Stealth +17; Racial Modifiers +4 Craft (confectionary) Languages Common, Sylvan, speak with arthropods SQ sugar rush

Ecology Environment warm and temperate land Organization solitary, pair or hive (3-24) Treasure standard

Special Abilities Speak with Arthropods (Sp) This functions as speak with animals, only it can be used to communicate with vermin that are arthropods, such as spiders, insects, centipedes or crustaceans. This is the equivalent of a 1st level spell. Sugar Rush (Su) As a move action, a melixie can consume a large quantity of sugar, honey or other sweet substance (at least ½ a pound). When it does so, it can take an additional move action for the next 1d4+1 rounds. When this time elapses, the melixie is fatigued for 1 minute. A melixie cannot use its sugar rush ability when fatigued or exhausted.

[2smolbeans]

Yandere Prompt:

Instead of it always being the darling figuring out the yandere's obession, what if the darling's friend/lover were to figure it out for them? What if the obessor is so well mannered, so normal around everyone that even the darling themselves never detected the mentally deranged behavior from their stalker. Leaving it up to their friend/lover who just watches in horror as they begin to notice the subtle manipulative advances that this 'stranger' has made in order to comfortably wiggle themselves into darling's life.

Bonus point:

The yandere begins to slowly reveal themselves out of frustration, their perfect mask slipping away when this lover/friend is able to convince the poor victim that they aren't what they seem to be. Eventually leading to the obessor to leave 'small' threats to the lover/friend's darling.

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Just an extension writing under the cut!

(Tags: dead dove do not eat, mentions of mutilated vermin, breaking and entering, this is just overall me practicing horror writing based on this prompt ^^)

________________________

Exiting the subway station, Angelia cautiously made her way back to her apartment. Entering inside from the front door, she grabbed her keycard, scanning it to let her inside. Entering the elevator and then stepping out, she walked down the empty narrow halls. Her apartment, of course, was the last one all the way at the end of the hall. Nervously, she grabbed her keys, her hands shaking as she unlocked her apartment door. Nothing, she looked at the dark apartment room and listened for any subtle noises. Nothing again. Laughing shakily out of relief, Angelia stepped inside.

Squelch.

She froze as she felt something squishy and mushy at her feet. She could hear the sound of small oozing coming from where she stepped. She could feel the slippery contents staining her sandals. Her heart started beating as she smelled the stench that was now infecting her apartment. The rotten, metallic, funky aroma that spun her head. Immediately gagging, she turned around to look for her lights, immediately panicking as she could now feel the chunky slime substance on her toes. Turning on the lights, she let out a scream as she gripped onto the wall.

Everywhere on the floor were dead, freshly killed, rats. Letting out repeated shrieks, Angelia cried out of disgust as she realised what she had stepped on. Shaking her foot to remove what filth she had stepped on, the orange juicy entrails wrapped around a part of her feet- she rushed towards the bathroom, avoiding all the dead rats that were littered on the floor. But upon entering the bathroom, she was hit with the disgusting stench of putrid vermin blood all over her painted walls. Looking at the bathtub, she couldn't surpress the automatic response to throw up as she witnessed what had been done. She didn't even have time to comfortably adjust herself somewhere as she hunched over, holding her stomach as she stood, spewing her stomach fluids all over the already rodent soiled floors.

It was almost comical as she looked at the amount of vermin that was stacked in the bathtub. A mixture of loose fur, flesh, and tiny paws all floated to the top of the tub that was filled partially with blood. With her eyes widened and adrenaline pumping through her vines, she clenched her chest as she looked at the wall that the bathtub was attached against. Clearly fresh and new, the letters dripped slowly against the wall.

"Next time, don't rat me out okay? Looove you Angie <3"

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(Pairing: Marco x Angelia x you)

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[fashiondisastertournament]

ROUND 5 (SEMIFINALS)

Matchup #5.2: Teru Hanazawa (Mob Psycho 100) vs Trexel Geistman (Stellar Firma) vs Miuccia Miuller (Jojo's Bizarre Adventure)

The other Great Three! By now, we can probably all agree that their Fashion is at the very least questionable, but who's the worst? Who deserves a spot in the finals, to compete for the Tumblr's no. 1 Fashion Disaster title? There can only be one!

On the left side, we see Teru. Oh Teru. His fashion sense brought down even Mr. Agreste, temporarily, but can he stand against his powerful semifinals competition? Here are a few of his (illustrated) Fashion Crimes:

wearing a three foot wig which causes him to resemble a cactus (above)

picking out that horrible monkey shirt that you could see in the Mob poll for Mob (it was so bad it defeated god)

certain... official promo art and official fanbook outfits (below)

In the middle, Trexel Geistman from the podcast Stellar Firma has just returned from the Losers land, by popular vote, to try again! As you let me know, his notable Fashion Choices include:

wearing three pairs of sunglasses and four hats simultaneously, as well as multicolored wigs he bathes in

gills surgically implanted in armpits

carrying around a dead fish in a fanny pack

being implied to have pocket vermin

being depicted in a variety of Interesting Outfits by fanartists and cosplayers! -> full propaganda posts we received for more info can be found here and here! Also, a fine audio selection documenting his Fashion & Hygiene Crimes can be found here!

Finally, on the right, stands menacingly Miuccia or Miu Miu, from the most recently animated Jojo part. Curious what her nomination listed among her Fashion Sins?

her skirt has upside down text that says "h8t" and "shotfud"

are those eyeballs???

her eyebrows,,,

her coat looks vaguely like intestines (or brain I guess??)

her hair "looks like a bolt hit her in a cartoon"

Make your judgment: whose Outfits deserve jail time?

[home-of-renn]

Getting to know the Addams family is complete whiplash for Danny.

Growing up with ghosts being treated like parasites and vermin to being welcomed into a family where spirits are actually treated with respect and empathy is mindboggling. The Addamses even have a deep understanding of ghostly customs and compulsions, yet still treat them as individuals and not mindless, Obsession driven entities.

Speaking of Obsessions........ It's honestly surprising that Danny's Obsession hadn't gone berserk from the sheer amount of weaponry mounted on the walls. He's core remained comfortable even when he'd found out about Wednesday's collection of pet spiders, the family lion that guards the vault, even Pugsley's pair of red-bellied piranhas, and the drawers filled with poisons situated right next to the spice cabinet in the kitchen.

He once walked in on Wednesday trying to embalm her brother and his Obsession hadn't made so much as a peep.

(He later realises that it's because none of them actually intended to seriously harm one another. It's nothing but fun and games and they all have each other's best interests at heart).

But one afternoon, Danny is sitting at the kitchen table working his way through a mountain of overdue homework while Morticia sits at the other end stitching what looks like a onesie with too many arms.

He's got his nose inches away from the pages in front of him when Morticia lets out a soft hum. It's enough to break his concentration and he lifts his head. Bright red drips from her finger, running down the length of her bony knuckles. The world comes to a screeching halt and for the first time since stepping foot into the Addams' residence, Danny's Obsession flares to life.

His chest is suddenly too tight and he leaps from his chair. Grabbing the nearest rag, he flings himself across the table and presses it against Morticia's bleeding fingers with shaking hands. His laboured breathing echos around the room and it all comes crashing down.

His eyes zero in on his left hand and the imprints it leaves on Morticia's pale wrist. He comes back to himself all at once. Awareness and rational thought finally pierce through the forefront of his mind and has him jerking back. His chair is toppled on the ground with paper and pens scattered about. The table's been pushed askew and he's still holding Morticia's wrist.

Morticia is silent. Her eyebrows are raised but she's calm and composed. His eyes finally catch sight of her sewing, no longer laid gently in her lap but tossed to the ground and crumpled.

Danny flees before she can even rise from her chair.

He skips dinner and hides in his room. Embarrassment burns under his skin. He hadn't lost control like that since he first turned ghost - not since he'd made the harrowing discovery that he had an Obsession. Danny lies awake that night, invisible in his bed, ignoring the quiet knocking on his bedroom door.

He waits until everyone's finished their breakfast the next morning before finally making his way into the kitchen. He freezes at the sight of Morticia sitting in the empty room, in the same seat as before. The table has been pushed straight and his homework has been piled neatly on the kitchen counter. He almost runs for it, but Morticia offers him a smile and pulls out the chair next to her. On the table in front of the offered seat is a plate piled high with eggs, bacon and sausages. He slowly makes his way to the table and takes his seat. He eats with his head down and Morticia doesn't offer any conversation. The room is silent except for Danny's chewing and the soft rustle of fabric as Morticia continues her sewing. Danny's grateful for the quiet.

He's focused on shovelling down fork fulls of greasy potatoes when he catches a glint of something metallic in his periphery.

Morticia sits, poised and graceful, sewing something Danny thinks might be a hat. On her thumb, she wears a thimble.

He stills with his fork halfway to his mouth and carelessly looks up and meets her eyes. She smiles, the same way she always does, with blood-red lips and not a hint of teeth or a crinkle of her eye, but somehow it's gentle and reassuring. His neck flushes and he continues his breakfast in silence while Morticia continues her sewing. The air is comfortable and Danny feels his Obsession settle.

[yazthebookish]

Chapter 23, 24 and 25

(Aka the "holy shit" and "lore galore" chapters)

A sarcophagus made of clear quartz lay in the center of the space. And inside it, preserved in eternal youth and beauty, lay a dark-haired female.

What in the Snow White...

That here, literally right under them, slumbering in that forgotten coffin … Here lay the evil beneath.

Oh shit.

“What have you done?” Azriel rasped, and Bryce twisted to find him on his feet, wings tucked in, Nesta leaning against him as if wounded, Ataraxia dangling from her grip. The male now held the Starsword at the ready, Truth-Teller gripped in his other hand.

He must have had some sort of Starborn blood in him, then—a distant ancestor, maybe. Or maybe his possession of the knife somehow allowed him to also bear the Starsword.

Hnnnnnnnnghhhhhh!!!!!!! Theories swirling right now!!!!!

“I am your god. I am your master. Do you not know me?”

The female’s nails gouged deep lines into the crystal, but the lid held. She searched beyond Bryce, her gaze falling upon Azriel. Her lips curled. “A foot soldier. Excellent. Kill this insolent female and free me.” She pointed to Bryce.

Azriel didn’t move. The caged female hissed, “Kneel, soldier. Make the Tithe so I may regain my strength and leave this cage.”

Oh?

“The female in the sarcophagus was an Asteri.”

Screeching.

The Asteri’s blue eyes lowered to the dagger. “You dare draw a weapon before me? Against those who crafted you, soldier, from night and pain?”

“You are no creator of mine,” Azriel said coldly. The Starsword gleamed in his other hand. If they bothered him, if they called to him, he didn’t let on. Neither hand so much as twitched.

Az is about to find out the Illyrians were the Daglan's creation!!!

The Asteri’s eyes flared with recognition at the long blade. “Did Fionn send you, then? To slay me in my sleep? Or was it that traitor Enalius? I see that you bear his dagger—as his emissary? Or his assassin?”

The words must have meant something to Azriel. The warrior let out a small noise of shock.

TRUTH-TELLER IS ENALIUS'S KNIFE!!! FIONN'S FRIEND!!! Oh this is delightful. What a lore feast!!! Az owns the knife of the first Illyrian!! Let's fucking go!!!

“You may call me Vesperus.” The creature’s eyes glowed with irritation.

She threw a tantrum about the other Asteri being called the Evening Star when she was one Lol.

“We pooled our power, and imbued those gifts into the Cauldron so that it would work our will. We Made the Trove from it. And then bound the very essence of the Cauldron to the soul of this world.”

Solas. “So destroy the Cauldron …”

“And you destroy this world. One cannot exist without the other.”

Behind them, Nesta sucked in a sharp breath. But Bryce said, “You gave this world a kill switch.”

“We gave many worlds … kill switches. To protect our interests.” She said it with such calm, such surety.

So basically the Cauldron is a nuclear button. The Daglan made sure Prythian's existence hinges on the Cauldron. I mean we knew as much in ACOWAR but it's always interesting when we get more history on why. The Cauldron is an entity but the higher divine being is the Mother/Urd.

Vesperus took another step, steadier now, and smiled past Bryce. At Azriel, at Truth-Teller. “You don’t know how to use it, do you?”

Azriel pointed the dagger toward the advancing Asteri. “Pretty sure this end’s the one that’ll go through your gut.”

Vesperus chuckled, her dark hair swaying with each inching step closer. “Typical of your kind. You want to play with our weapons, but have no concept of their true abilities. Your mind couldn’t hold all the possibilities at once.”

Azriel snarled softly, wings flaring, “Try me.”

Vesperus took one more step, now barely a foot from Bryce. “I can smell it—how much of what we created here went unused. Ignorant fools.”

What more can Truth-teller do...?

Vesperus backed up a half step, hissing at the gleaming weapon. “We hid pockets of our power throughout the lands, in case the vermin should cause … problems. It seems our wisdom did not fail us.”

“There are no such places,” Azriel countered coldly.

“Are there not?” Vesperus grinned broadly, showing all of her too-white teeth. “Have you looked beneath every sacred mountain? At their very roots? The magic draws all sorts of creatures. I can sense them even now, slithering about, gnawing on the magic. My magic. They’re as much vermin as the rest of you.”

YO RAMIEL IS THE ONLY UNEXPLORED ONE!! I'm kicking my feet right now!!!

“There are certain places, girl, that are better suited to hold power than others. Places where the veil between worlds is thin, and magic naturally abounds. Our light thrives in such environments, sustained by the regenerative magic of the land.” She gestured around them. “This island is a thin place—the mists around it declare it so.”

A veil between worlds. Oh, this crossover is going to have some implications on ACOTAR5.

The sacred mountains have a core of firstlight under them...

Nesta had plunged Ataraxia right through Vesperus’s chest.

NESTA 👏🏼 FUCKING 👏🏼 ARCHERON 👏🏼