#virtuous vows

[tastywordgasms]

🥀𝕹𝖊𝖜 𝓡𝖊𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖊🥀 Virtuous Vows by @authortlsmith and @kiacarringtonrussellauthor 𝖎𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝔀 𝖆𝓿𝖆𝖎𝖑𝖆𝖇𝖑𝖊! 𝕮𝔥𝖊𝖈𝓚𝖔𝖚𝖙 Tanya's 𝐵𝖔𝖔𝓚 𝓡𝖊𝓿𝖎𝖊𝔀! G𝖊𝓽 y𝖔𝖚𝖗 𝖈𝖔𝖕y 𝖙𝖔𝖉𝖆y! ᖇᗴᗩᗪ 𝔽ℝ𝔼𝔼 ꭵᑎ ᛕꭵᑎᗪᒪᗴ Uᑎᒪꭵᗰꭵ𝕋ᗴᗪ @tlsmith1313 #VirtuousVowsRelease #VirtuousVows #KiaCarringtonRussellAuthor #TLSmithAuthor #NewRelease #KURomance #Amazon #Standalone #MustRead #DarkRomance #EnticingJourney

  Title: Virtuous Vows Author: T.L. Smith & Kia Carrington-Russell Genre: Dark Romance Tropes: Opposites Attract, Male Escort, Wounded Hero Release Date: March 1, 2024 Cover Design:  Discreet Paperback – Hang Le eBook – RBA Design         “𝚅𝚒𝚛𝚝𝚞𝚘𝚞𝚜 𝚅𝚘𝚠𝚜 𝚠𝚊𝚜 𝚊 𝚏𝚊𝚜𝚝-𝚙𝚊𝚌𝚎𝚍, 𝚊𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚟𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙳𝚊𝚠𝚜𝚘𝚗 𝚊𝚗𝚍 𝙷𝚘𝚗𝚎𝚢 𝚠𝚎𝚛𝚎 𝚙𝚞𝚛𝚎 𝚏𝚒𝚛𝚎!” ★★★★★ Amy (Goodreads)     Honey I was destined to marry another…

[voidsentprinces]

[cookiiefreak]

Hmmm this is dough again - You trapped in close quarters with PV as his most loyal knight as you are protecting him from an assassination attempt from mysterious hooded figures.

Dragging him out of the Vanilla Kingdom as fast as you can and getting very far into the shrubbery and trees until you both fall into a hole in the ground. Landing right on top of him. You both seem to be safe for the time being as the footsteps faded a few minutes ago. You warn him to stay quiet and vigilant and you'll find a way out of this as your limbs are tangled together, right into his sensitive ear.

He, is blushing and stuttering from the proximity. But you are unaware of this and claustrophobic, jostling around trying to climb out, hitting some spots of his that made him need to cover his mouth, mortified.

DO WITH THIS WHAT YOU WILL POOKIE

DOUGH AAAAAAAAAAA

I am so feral over this you have no idea, I feel like a dog that was just given its favorite chew toy <3

sorry in advance if this isn’t that good, this took me all day (i haven’t written anything since 2020-2021)

Additional tags: assassination attempt (not detailed), king/knight dynamic, pv has naughty thoughts, pv loves them possessive, knight!reader is a tad oblivious to pv’s feelings/their own sex appeal, might be a little ooc (sorry)

Ship: Pure Vanilla x Knight!Reader

⚠️ MINORS DO NOT READ ⚠️

I imagine that he has been pining for a while, his mind drifting to you and your loyal, endearing mannerisms as his hands reach to pathetically grope and tease himself when he can’t seem to find sleep late at night. It’s appalling to him! How could he possibly imagine you, his most virtuous and faithful knight, in ways that are so explicit he can’t even bear to utter a word of it to anyone? Not even to his closest friends? He’s absolutely ashamed, vowing to never allow himself to take advantage of you like that in any lifetime.

It doesn’t help his situation when he’s suddenly attacked by a group of cloaked assassins, blades sharpened and ready to take down the monarch of the Vanilla Kingdom. But there you are, ever his knight in shining Vanillian armor, longsword in hand as you start defending your king like it’s your life’s greatest purpose.

Your king.

Pure Vanilla shudders at the thought of you claiming him as your own, the vision of your enchanting eyes peering down at him as your lithe fingers circle his soul-jam before trailing further down his trembling body…

Get ahold of yourself, Pure Vanilla!

It reaches a point in battle where too many of the enemies seem to be regaining their strength at concerning speeds, forcing you to take hold of his hand and rush through the streets of the Vanilla Kingdom. Some other knights, that had jumped into action earlier to help you, continue fighting them off to prevent them from chasing after the two of you, but it seems like a few had managed to break free and rush after you.

Heading into the forest in the hopes of losing them, you dodge and weave through the plentiful trees and shrubs until your escape comes to an end. A trap hole that had been disguised by a thick, leafy cover was the unfortunate barrier as Pure Vanilla slips in and tumbles down; bringing you with. One of your arms shoot down and wrap around his waist as the other reaches for the wall in an attempt to dig your fingers into the dirt and slow your fall, which works to a certain degree as you two land a bit softer than he had imagined.

He manages to let out a groan before your hand quickly covers his mouth, effectively silencing any more noises of pain. His eyes widen as he watches you lean your head down, feeling your breath gently brush against his cheek.

“Silence, m’lord. Wait for them to leave,” your whisper caresses his ear and sends a shockwave down his back. He nods obediently and the two of you wait patiently, hearing footsteps close to your area but never coming near the hidden hole. A few minutes pass before you hear the assassins’ footsteps again, this time retreating further into the woods in an attempt to find their target.

You’re in the clear. You let out a sigh of relief, glad to have lost the bastards while Pure Vanilla is preoccupied with the startling realization of the position you have landed in.

“They’re gone, thank the witches.” You glance down at the king with a grimace, “My apologies. This is such a tight space, I shall try to figure a way out of here soon, m’lord.”

“I-It’s alright, you’re not hurt, are you?” His throat feels horribly dry as he struggles to look you in the eyes, all of his nighttime thoughts coming in to burrow further in his mind. You have one leg over his hip while the other rests slightly under his thigh with your crotches grazing each other, though he’s not sure if you don’t care or if you don’t notice because you seem unbothered by your position.

“I should be asking you that, my liege. It is unfortunate that you ended up falling first,” you shift your hips a bit and a zing of pleasure has him digging his nails into the dirt beneath him.

“Hmm? Why’s that?” Your eyebrows seem to furrow at his words while Pure Vanilla’s vision swims, it takes a good portion of his willpower to not buck up against your pleasant heat.

“I am a bit armored, sir. The landing would’ve been far less painful for me than it was for you,” a look of concern crosses your features. “Did you hit your head? You look quite dazed, m’lord.”

“I-I’m fine, just a little frazzled from all that transpired.” He feels guilty for being a tad bit untruthful, a nagging sensation gripping his brain and soul jam, but there is no way he could tell you just how badly he wanted to tear you apart right now. How he wanted to feel your thighs tighten around the sides of his head as you ride his face, your juices messily smeared down his chin and cheeks. Or, witches forbid, how he needed to feel you cream around his cock as you whine out your devotion to him.

“I’ll have the palace doctors check on you once we get back just to be sure, you’re looking flushed. Intensely so,” you take your glove off and press the back of your hand against the side of his face before recoiling in shock. “You’re scorching! I’ll have to be quick, just sit tight, your highness.”

He nods his head as he watches you pull your glove back on before getting to work trying to untangle your limbs, your hips moving occasionally as you test which position would free you both. This feels like a test of sanity to him, every movement has you practically grinding yourself against him and he swears you are doing it on purpose. Yet the focused expression on your face says otherwise, your intentions are purely to try and crawl out of this witch forsaken hole.

One particular shift of your leg has him biting his tongue HARD in order to shut down the whimper that begs to be let loose, his brain screaming that he needs to be out of this dirt coffin already or else he’s going to cum in his pants.

“I know this can’t be too comfortable, my liege.” You give him an empathetic smile, “If any of my movements are causing you harm please let me know.” Fuck, why do you have to speak to him in such a tender tone? He flashes you a smile of his own, though at this moment he feels like a monster baring its teeth at innocent prey.

“I am just grateful I had you with me. Your skills have aided me more times than I can count,” he can’t help but notice the way you seem to beam proudly at his statement.

“Of course! Because my oath I took those years ago will always remain true: I will fight until my dying breath to keep my king safe!”

Oh fuck.

[celestiamour]

‧₊˚✧ ❛[ bitterly sweet taste ]❜

ft. thomas lawrence x f! reader — conclave

╰₊✧ he says it’s the last time he’ll see you, but it never is┊1k words

contains: more plot than smut!! sacrilege (broken vows of celibacy), sex work, age gap (unspecified but legal ofc he’s just ancient), guilt, unprotected piv, thomas is a guilt-ridden pathetic old man and i want to fuck him

➤ author's note: i was gonna post the benitez fic first but there’s gonna be a delay on that once because i still don’t really know what i’m doing so have this lawrence fic and then a tedesco one sometime next week i love these old men so much

thomas lawrence is trapped in a constant, grueling cycle of temporary pleasure in exchange for eternal shame. he doesn’t remember when it started, but it doesn’t really matter when he can’t see the end in sight. his main excuse is the stress he’s under, struggling with the faith that makes up his entire identity and considering retiring from his position as dean of the cardinals. although the holy father won’t allow him to. his words echoed in his mind, “some are chosen to be shepherds, and others are needed to manage the farm.”

he hesitates before picking up the phone to call you, knowing the exact sequence of events that will unfold once he does. he could end it right here, do the virtuous thing, and pray for closure rather than indulging in earthly desires as a temporary solution to his problems, but he never does, and his request to see you is whispered.

as he waits for you, he’s conscience-stricken over what’s to come, but there’s no one to blame but himself. 

you’re gorgeous as always, an example of lust come to life with those sultry eyes and soft lips. most importantly though, you know how to keep quiet and respect the deals you make. you promised you would never say a word, and you’ve been honorable about it ever since. you don’t even charge him any more than you would for a usual customer. he’s certain that if he were unlucky, he would find himself being blackmailed by you, asking him to wire tens of thousands of dollars to your account in exchange for silence knowing he’d gegrudingly oblige since the church didn’t need any more sex scandals than it already had.

you kiss him first, you always do, gently with both hands cradling his face as you pull him towards you. if you leave him to make the first move, you would be waiting all night before eventually leaving without doing the job you were called to do. 

he falters for a second, but soon melts into your touch. he so starved for affection from another, the poor thing. it’s almost embarrassing how much he needs you, yearning for a younger thing like you, but you truthfully don’t mind it. it’s almost cute actually.

feeling the warmth of your skin against his and the weight of your body crawling into his lap is enough to send him spiraling, throwing all of the morals he’s held his entire life out the window as his large hands grab the plush of your thighs. he holds onto you like you would disappear at any moment, almost as if he was scared you would escape from his grasp and reveal what was going on with a single whisper. he doesn’t trust you, yet he has no choice but to do so.

the layers between you slip off, and it always makes you sigh at all the clothing clergymen wear on the daily. do they not get hot? it’s fine, you have plenty of experience when it comes to removing the religious garments of men and women alike.

there’s a war going on in his mind when you lay yourself down for him, one between his vocation and his need for you. it’s his last chance to back out, but when his icy eyes met yours full of want, he caved like he always does. the closest thing to heaven he’ll ever feel is the embrace of your velvety walls around his cock, the sound of your gasp when he sinks into you, and the way you call out his name like a prayer, “thomas, thomas, thomas.”

he’s slow, careful, as if too much pleasure at once would break him. he’s not used to this, he doesn’t think he ever will be, not when he’s already at this age and trained to keep his mind above the carnal appetites of the body. he lost his first time with you in a desperate last-minute resort to alleviate all of the pressures on his shoulders, and his last time ever will also be with you if it ever comes soon. it’s wrong, so very wrong, but the constant push and pull that brings him makes him feel like it’s worth it at the moment.

when he finally snaps back to reality with your shared climax, he feels an overwhelming wave of guilt wash over him. he shouldn’t be doing this, he shouldn’t be behaving like an animal to relieve himself of his stress and succumbing to lust as if he had no restraint. restraint is all he knows, all he’s ever known, he’s the dean of cardinals for crying out loud. everyone knows thomas lawrence to be disciplined and reverent, an image of holiness and composure, and example for the rest of his peers as someone who was chosen by the pope himself to manage them. he could only imagine the scandal that would break out if it was discovered what he was doing in secret, how he’s no better than anyone else and just another sinner hiding within the walls of the church.

he runs a warm, wet towel across your skin to soothe any aches he might have left on your body, as if he even had it in him to treat you as roughly as another client, the tips of his fingers barely ghosting over your flesh as if he was scared to touch you unlike how he was mere minutes before. his regret hangs heavy in the air along with the sinful smell of sweat and sex. 

“this must never happen again.” he speaks sternly and autocratically, allowing you to see a glimpse of the noble cardinal he is rather than the pathetically desperate man you usually see, although it seems like he’s talking more to himself than he is to you. his tone is so confident that you almost believe that he means it this time.

only for a second though, you know it’s far from the last time. it will only be a week or two before you’ll receive another phone call from him for another secret rendezvous. he’s only a human before he is a holy man, after all.

[city-of-ladies]

"Byzantium has a reputation for misogyny and is often dubbed a patriarchal state. Certainly there were misogynists in Byzantium and they were in a position to be heard at the time and to leave behind evidence of their opinions. As members of the educated clergy or literate ascetics, they were respected for their holiness by their contemporaries and their writings were collected and copied for the benefit of the next generation. They survive for historians to study because they were important in their own time. But the prevalence of unflattering opinions or prescriptive denouncements on women signals several things. As in the case of all frequently voiced material, whether it is a law or a sermon, its very frequency often betrays that its demands are not being obeyed. It has been said that the perennial problem of a patriarchal society is that women are absolutely crucial to its continuance but they must never be allowed to realise their importance or act on it. Byzantium recognised the importance of women in economic terms and in terms of their function as child-bearers, particularly in law.

Divorce by consent was permitted until the sixth century. Thereafter there was a list of reasons for which divorce was allowed: adultery, impotence, madness, and treason. The church saw marriage as a union of two people intended by God to last until the death of one of the parties. The consequences of this development for women can be argued two ways. In one way, easy divorce disadvantaged women because their husbands could legally dispose of them in favour of a younger or prettier woman; alternatively, they themselves could also escape an unhappy marriage more easily. On the other hand, the church, while insisting that the union was indissoluble, also advocated choice in marriage, a novel development for a culture which had not previously consulted a woman’s preferences. However, the list of possible reasons for divorce was more comprehensive for men, including in some ages a wife displeasing her husband by staying out of the house for too long. Another new development was the licence allowed by the church if one of the parties wished to enter the monastic life. Either a husband or a wife could divorce their spouse to take holy vows: sometimes a virtuous couple separated to live in different monasteries after their children were grown up.

A woman’s rights over her dowry, the property a woman took from her family to a marriage, were vigorously defended. Because so much property was tied up in marriage, property disputes are one of the most common areas in which to see the law applied to women. The dowry belonged to the wife, although her husband could administer it. If he allowed it to diminish, the wife could administer it herself. The wife also had the full ownership and use of the nuptial gift from her husband, which was given at marriage and which was set at a percentage of the dowry. Of course both dowry and nuptial gift were intended to benefit the children of the marriage ultimately, and should the wife die before her husband, the children were next in line to inherit it before their father. When the man of the family died, his widow was the natural guardian of their children and the estate. As head of the family, she had all the responsibilities of a man and the legal authority to carry them out. On her shoulders rested estate administration, and the education, dowering and marriage of the children. This included the administration of the empire if the widow was an empress. Widowhood was the most powerful position that a woman could hold as far as legal rights went. On remarriage, the widow normally lost all control over her first family, and of the property of the family, except for her nuptial gift.

Remarriage was therefore a disabling option for women. This was not the only restriction on their activity. The emperor Leo VI (886–912) had forbidden women to appear as witnesses or to give testimony in court. He felt that it violated the natural order of things. Despite this law, many women did appear on their own behalf, especially well-born or rich women. There were other strange assumptions enshrined in the law which do not shine a favourable light on the morals of Byzantine men or the expected intelligence of Byzantine women. For example, women were unpunished in many cases because they could not be expected to understand the law or to know the difference between right and wrong, since they were women. The only crimes for which a woman was normally convicted were murder and adultery.

Byzantine women were not cloistered and they were not subject to constricting dress codes. But it was not usual to see many women on the streets, and it was usual for them to wear a veil. Often a contemporary historian will make a point of describing women in the streets or tearing their veils to emphasise how shocking an event was. The eleventh-century mumblings of the old general Kekaumenos about the wisdom of keeping your womenfolk from meeting strange men in your own house and the dangers that could result show that normally women were at large in their own homes. Although the empress had ‘women’s quarters’ in the palace these were only curtained off from the main receiving rooms and men were certainly allowed into them. There was a separate room, covered in purple, in which the empress spent her last days of pregnancy and gave birth. This gave rise to the epithet ‘purple-born’ or *porphyrogennitos which designated the legitimate children of the emperor. In these quarters in her last days of pregnancy she probably sewed clothes for the forthcoming child. Clothes-making was one of the most important activities of women of all social levels, although it was by no means their only commercial activity. Documents survive revealing women’s activities in retail trade, group exploitation of mines, production and sale of food, and investment in long-distance trade. The aristocratic widows mentioned above often managed the fortune of the family directly, not only the day-to-day running of the estate. This commercial activity necessitated contact with the world of men to an extent which seems at odds with the dominant ideology of female submission propounded by the early church fathers of Byzantium."

Imperial Women in Byzantium 1025-1204: Power, Patronage and Ideology, Barbara Hill

[honeywyrdie]

Divine Flesh

part 1 {part 2} {part 3}

Priest Jeongin x Fem Reader

summary: When he took his vow of celibacy, Jeongin was so confident that he'd always be strong in the face of temptation. Nothing could get in the way of his devotion... Until he laid eyes on you. There was something...unnatural about his desire for you. /// word count: 1.5k /// genre: smut, angst /// warnings: priest kink, sexual themes, hierophilia, corruption kink, masturbation, shame and guilt, straight up blasphemy a/n: I didn't grow up catholic but somehow I ended up with a priest kink anyway? I did my research as best I could, but there's bound to be inaccuracies. This will be a 3 part fic for the spooky season <3 if you'd like to be added to the taglist, reply to this post or send me a DM!

(⁄ ⁄•⁄ω⁄•⁄ ⁄)⁄

I have only posted this here and on AO3 - user: spookwyrdie

The mist outside clings to the stained glass windows, turning the translucent colors opaque. It’s a small, narrow window, only the image of the cross surrounded by a chromatic, patterned web. It feels so much more solid today on this cold morning, no sunlight filtering through the multicolored panes of glass. Jeongin tried to keep his focus on it, counting the hues, to distract himself. Though he could feel the chill seeping in through his robe as he held the basket of communion wafers, he had something uncomfortable smoldering in his chest. He felt an impure warmth creeping up his neck beneath the crisp white clergy collar.

You are in line. He hasn’t seen you come up for communion in weeks. When he wasn’t paying attention, you must have finally confessed some mortal sin to the aging Father Park.  As he avoids your eyes, he wonders in vain what the nature of your sins are. A small, impious part of him hopes they’re carnal. But here you are, eyes locked onto him any time he glanced away from handing the body of Christ to another parishioner. 

You wear a serene smile on your face - unbothered, reserved, and almost shy - innocently fluttering your eyelashes like a fawn licking dew off of a leaf. How could you look so virtuous after the things you did with him, to him, in his dreams? The way he’s seen those eyes look down at him from above with a dusty pink glow so many times, he felt like he could paint them from memory. Jeongin felt a bolt of hot shame drive through his heart like a nail. It wasn’t your fault that he met you every night after he fell asleep as you did wicked things with your hands, your lips, your tongue in his dreams. 

He had only moved to this small parish in the middle of nowhere a few months ago, settling into the provincial town easily. But for the last few weeks, his slumber has been plagued by visions of you on your knees, on your back, on his mouth. He’ll jolt awake in the middle of the night, panting with need, cock hard and leaking. Once he awoke to find himself desperately fucking his hips into his mattress. It made him feel like a schoolboy again with a wild, uncontrollable need. You make him feel out of control.

You walk down the aisle towards him, hands together, eyes hooded. Jeongin could swear he saw a faint dusty pink flare in your pupils, but he dismisses it outright. He’s imagining things he wants to see, and he wants to see you glowing.

You only take your eyes off of him for a second to bow in reverence. The way you step towards him makes time nearly stop. Everything moves in slow motion before Jeongin’s eyes as you kneel on the threadbare hassock. It’s as if the air between the two of you shivers, almost like the heat of a flame bending light around it. Your supple form in your modest clothes, he’s imagined what lies beneath a few thin layers of fabric and his eyes. You’re so close to him, eyes closed as you tilt your head up. His eyes flit around your face as he takes in all the small details: a wayward freckle in your cheek, a minuscule scar on your chin, the delicate curve of your lips. You look up into his eyes, peeking beneath your eyelashes.

“The b-body of Christ…” he stammers. 

Your eyebrows crinkle upwards with what could be called a worried expression, but the way your eyes sparkle makes you look like you’re teasing him. Jeongin feels frozen, his feet screaming at him to run but his heart gluing him to the spot. A slow smile dawns on your face before you lean forward, opening your mouth and sticking your tongue out to receive the dry little wafer. Your soft pink tongue rests on your lower lip as you stare up at him, waiting for his next move. 

Jeongin would do anything to feel that tongue. That tongue that his sleeping mind tells him is wet, hot, and skilled. He lifts the wafer, gingerly placing it on your tongue, lingering for as long as he’ll allow himself before anyone can get suspicious. 

He begins to pull away when he feels it. He feels a gentle pressure, the lightest kitten lick of your tongue over the tip of his thumb. His eyes go wide, pupils flaring with the sudden urge to claim you. It takes all the effort in the world not to dip his thumb into your mouth - the mere thought has arousal hurtling through his body, clenching his abdominal muscles. That coy smile is still on your face when you finally turn away, sauntering back to your seat. To Jeongin, each step feels like it singes the carpet underneath your feet, the image of your swaying hips imprinting in his chest.

It’s all he thinks about when he’s in the shower later. The icy temperature does nothing to calm his nerves as his flushed, hard cock bobs at the thought of you. Somehow, he made it through the rest of Mass without anyone catching on to the light sweat that prickled his skin. The focus he had on slow breathing during Father Kim's sermon was the only thing standing between him and a tent in his slacks in front of the whole congregation. 

Father Kim noticed that he seemed tense and gave Jeongin the rest of the day off to meditate on what bothered him. After thanking him, Jeongin practically ran back to his living space - the small studio with one spacious bathroom. Feverishly ripping his collar off, unbuttoning his shirt, and kicking off his slacks, he hopped into his shower. Blasting his body with frigid water seemed like the right thing to do. He yelped, arching his back as his skin screamed at the rapid change in temperature.

This is good, this is what he needs. He needs some sort of distraction from thinking about you. He took his vow of chastity very seriously, but today was putting his commitment to the test. Jeongin didn’t have a ton of experience, but he wasn’t a virgin before he took the cloth. He was so confident that he had a handle on any sort of temptation laid before him, no carnal desire could overpower his devotion to the Lord and his duty to the church. 

No temptation, that is, until you. 

The guilt slammed through him as arousal thrummed in his blood. The first time he laid eyes on you, kneeling for a prayer during his first Mass in the new parish, caught him completely off guard. There was something so magnetic about you - the way your hair fell on your brow, the slight pursing of your lips as you prayed, the delicate clasp of your hands around your rosary. You were breathtaking, but it wasn't until you smiled at him that he felt chained to you, fully at your mercy.

 The bitter cold of the water sends stinging shivers through his body and settle at the base of his spine. Building more pressure in his pelvis, he finds his hips shaking as he grows hard, trying to control the thrusting of his hips at the thought of you. He hasn’t been this sensitive to lust ever before in his life. The way your plush lips framed your tongue as you presented it to him… he hisses. His skin is buzzing as if every nerve ending is lit up like a neon sign.

Jeongin starts whispering the only prayer that comes to mind at the moment in an attempt to pull himself back from the edge of insanity. 

Hail Mary, full of grace -

He leans his forehead against the cool blue tile of his shower wall, closing his eyes trying to focus on the words.

The Lord is with thee - 

The cold water pouring against his skin isn’t enough to cool him down, he feels like his body is on fire. Pressing his upper body towards the shower wall, he gasps the next line of his prayer as his nipples come into contact with the chilled tile, pebbling at the sensation. 

Blessed are thou amongst women -

He doesn’t know when his hand found its way down to his cock, but he cries out at the contact, bucking his hips into his fist. He’s so hard, it’s almost painful. The tip of his cock a ruddy color as it throbs in his hand. 

And blessed is the fruit of thy womb - 

“Jesus!” he huffs, his hand picking up speed, chasing his sacrilege to its inevitable end. The haunting image of your eyes, glowing that faint dusty pink, flashes in his mind again.

Holy Mary, Mother of God, pray for us sinners - 

His stomach curls, sliding down to the shower floor on his knees. His balls tighten, his hips pistoning his cock into his hand. He can’t control the whimpers leaving his mouth now, he’s almost past his breaking point. He thinks about your pink tongue, glistening in low light, pressing the tip against his thumb.

Now and at the hour of our death.

He cries out as his body convulses, his orgasm pulsing through him. It’s electric, he feels his hair stand on end. Thick ropes of white splatter against the shower wall, the shower quickly washing away any evidence of his sin. 

“Amen,” he sobs, slumping over in defeat, his hair clinging to his cheek as the water continues to pour over him. His vow of celibacy shattered in a single instant.

~~~

{part 2} {part 3}

if you'd like to be a part of the taglist, reply to this post or send me a DM! <3

[glitch-but-ya]

05| THE ECHO OF WHO I ONCE WAS

CW: Platonic(?) Xavier, Caleb appears, mentions of blood and violence, use of weaponry, mention of drugs, mental health struggles, possessiveness and protectiveness (on Xavier's part), angsty, self-depreciation WORD COUNT: 5,101 TAG LIST: @withering-dream @moonlight-inthe-sea @tinyweebsstuff @vyntheria , @xxfaithlynxx , @just-a-shapeshifter08 , @stxrrielle , @napa-the-yappa A/N: I've been in a bunch of events, competitions, and such. And on top of that, I have exams. I'm writing a book as well. And I'm mentally on the verge of throwing myself off a roof. So, yes. Shorter part. Not much plot progression. But I tried.

PART 1, PART 2, PART 3, PART 4, PART 6

And I will end this letter by saying, Sylus, that if our paths are bound to cross, I will not treat you any more cruelly than I once had.

Sylus was no philanthropist. He had made that clear multiple times in the past. He was not one to commit virtuous deeds out of the kindness of his heart—if there was any left in there in the first place. He had emphasized that fact time and time again—he was a wretched man bearing a rotten heart. He would betray you the moment your paths diverged. His heart beat for none besides the sorceress who gleamed like gold in his memories. And now, she was gone. And he had no reason to care. No reason to glance over his shoulder for a glimpse of what he had lost. He didn’t even consider it a loss in the first place. It was merely a farewell to a temporary comrade. There was no use lingering on the past when it had already slipped from his hands.

Your relationship was simple, really—two once-perplexed lovers who had realised they weren’t meant for each other, now on a voyage to retrieve a part of themselves lost to time. He would not go out of his way to make your life hell, no. He wasn’t pathetic. But if you were to cross blades on the battlefield, he had decided he would not hesitate to sever your head.

But he did. He hesitated.

The bullet hovered menacingly close to your shivering body, inches from your head. Sylus held out his hand. His fingers tightened as the bullet sank to the ground. Liora glared at him with frantic eyes. Even in defeat, the darkness of greed never left her pupils. It swirled in the hue of her irises, tainting their once-gorgeous colour with charcoal filth. Lust destroyed people in gruesome ways. It was almost pitiable. She could have reached great heights. She could have been useful.

Even Sylus misunderstood himself at times. Why had he not sent the bullet straight into Liora’s skull? Why had he not let it strike you? You deserved that much for causing such a major obstruction. But why had his body refused to comply? He couldn’t fathom it. It turned out there were things beyond Sylus’s capacity to decipher. His body had refused to obey. No matter how many times he had reached terra firma, his actions betrayed his beliefs. And now, even his will began to waver as doubt crept in. Was he truly indifferent? Or had he buried his feelings so deep that they were bursting forth with tremendous force? He didn’t know. He had always been good at disregarding emotions for the sake of work. But this perplexity only caused him harm.

For the first time in his life, Sylus fumbled.

And it would only lead to the inevitable confrontation with his emotions—something he had avoided for so long. He didn’t want to admit he was wrong. He didn’t want to acknowledge the part of him that was racked with guilt. He didn’t want to accept the chance to get to know you—truly know you. It hurt his pride, his love, and everything he had ever established. He had vowed to love no other. But a part of him knew he could love you as well.

Why must loyalty hurt so much?

Besides, you were the one he desired. In the end, it was you. Your soul, reincarnated. You were still the same being. You just didn’t remind him of her.

“Sylus... you! Why?! They won’t spare you either!” Liora shouted, yanking Sylus from his stream of consciousness.

Perhaps she was right. Perhaps you would show no mercy to him. Or—

“I will not treat you any more cruelly than I once had.”

Maybe not.

You had barged in despite your condition the moment you caught the slightest hint of alarm, hadn’t you? You came because you thought his life was in danger.

Another thing Sylus couldn’t fathom was your willingness to forgive him of all people. Him. He, who had shattered your confidence and crushed the birds of hope that could have ever played their tune in the future. He, who had betrayed you in a far more vicious manner than he had betrayed himself. He, who had hurt you for nothing but his own shortcomings.

How could you even claim to forgive such a man?

It was beyond him. Were you just naïve? Or did your love for him run that deep, even now? Sylus’s hand hovered over his heart as if trying to restrain the way the strings contracted, making it sting. His ears filled with the accentuated thump of his heart. It hurt. What was this feeling?

His head lifted at the weight of a glare directed at him. A pair of blue eyes stared back, their innocence in contrast to the darkness in his gaze. Sylus watched. Scanned. One of the man’s brows twitched. His face was contorted in anger.

Xavier, wasn’t it?

Your best friend and most trusted hunter partner. You had spoken of him multiple times. Always with a wide grin on your face. At his mention, you smiled like a child—gleeful and full of mirth. Sylus used to listen with a small smile playing on his lips. Back then, and even now, he was simply glad you had a great person to accompany you in his stead.

But the look in Xavier’s eyes irked him. Like the many thoughts coursing through his head tonight, that look baffled him.

But at the very least, Xavier cared about you.

That meant if Sylus were to propose a logical reason to keep you out of this (which he had), Xavier would listen, wouldn’t he?

Xavier crouched by your limp body, splayed across the couch. His hand hovered protectively over your wrist, his eyes lingering on the steady rise and fall of your chest. With each breath you took, the tangled threads in his heart loosened, piece by piece. The sadness in his eyes dissipated little by little, but his presence remained unmoving, as if the mere act of looking away for a second would summon a monster to devour you whole.

Xavier didn’t move an inch, no matter how excruciatingly his knees ached. He swallowed the pain. If he didn’t, he would lose you again. It was the result of his recklessness. He had abandoned you in the belly of the beast. This was his responsibility—his punishment. He deserved as much.

As he was about to zone out and retreat into his own thoughts, a set of heavy footsteps jolted him awake. His head snapped toward the sound.

“You have impressive reflexes.” The approaching figure applauded. “As expected of the legendary Lumiere.”

Xavier scowled over his shoulder at Sylus but said nothing. Sylus took the initiative to continue.

“It’s just GHB. A harmless drug.” His eyes flicked over Xavier. “She doesn’t need a guard dog.”

“I know.” Xavier stood but did not step away from your side. He turned to face Sylus, his head lowering, almost dangerously so. “I do it out of care.” His gaze flickered back to you. “What did you do for her?”

“You’re sharp.”

Silence.

“So,” Sylus began, “you picked up on our relationship. A pity.”

“She didn’t tell me.”

“I have no doubt.”

Xavier tilted his head. A foreign glint of dominance sparked in his eyes. In a blink, his expression twisted into that of Lumiere. “What do you want from her? I thought you two were over.”

A mock expression of hurt crossed Sylus’s face. “Such hostility. I only want the best for her.”

Xavier arched an eyebrow. Sylus sighed. “If it’ll make you trust me any more…”

And with that, he recounted everything—from his plan to the people who had drugged you, ending with the current state of things. But Xavier noticed how Sylus carefully omitted details about your relationship. Despite his bubbling curiosity, Xavier didn’t push. He knew he wouldn’t get answers even if he tried. Instead, he listened with unnerving focus, absorbing every event, every fact, every seemingly insignificant detail. One could practically see the gears turning in his head as he processed the onslaught of information.

Occasionally, Xavier turned to check on you before returning to the conversation. At times, his gaze lingered longer than intended. His eyes cradled your face with subtle melancholy.

Sylus’s eyebrow twitched. A part of him burned.

Once he finished, Sylus folded his arms over his chest. “So?”

“Fine.” Xavier placed a hand on his hip and stepped closer. “Tell me why you want me to drop her.”

Sylus smirked, as if commending Xavier’s intellect. A worthy opponent, he thought.

“We’re dealing with multiple storms. Storms she shouldn’t be confronting.” He flicked a coin between his fingers. “In short, we know what we’re dealing with.” His gaze sharpened. “She doesn’t.” He met Xavier’s eyes. “Do you need more convincing?”

Xavier cocked his head. His lips parted, but no words came.

Sylus continued. “Oh. You didn’t even know what you were up against. Now that you do, what’s your final verdict, Lumiere?”

Xavier bit down on his bottom lip, worrying the skin until a clot of blood formed beneath the surface. His attention returned to you. The faint hum of the lights and the rhythm of your breathing were the only things anchoring his mind.

For a moment, he pondered, chin resting on his hand, eyes locked on you.

For your sake, he would traverse barren exoplanets. For your sake, he would keep you in the dark.

If it was for your sake, Xavier would be willing to hurt you.

The blue-eyed man turned to Sylus, his gaze empty. “Fine.” His complexion dimmed as he spoke. “She’s off the mission. I can guarantee it.”

You grit your teeth. Your fingers dug into the mattress as you glared out the window. How could they? How dare they conspire together to decide on your behalf? And how could your best friend have the audacity to hide the reason from you? The world was enveloped in a cloak of darkness as you seethed in anger. You bit the inside of your cheek in an attempt to calm down. It’s okay... it’s okay… Xavier surely had a reason. Of course he didn’t sabotage me because he wanted to… Wait.

Your lips quivered. Could he have done it because you proved to be nothing more than a burden on this crucial mission? If you hadn’t fainted, the mission would’ve gone smoother, and antagonistic forces like Sylus would not be involved. Was he... Angry? Your grip on the mattress faltered. Xavier stirred from the other side of the room, his shoulders tensing as he sensed the shift in the environment. With the mellifluous voices, he called out your name. You lifted your head as if a revelation had just crossed your mind. Throwing the blanket off, he stepped towards you. A warm breeze from the window threaded through your locks. And amidst the flying strands of hair, Xavier could’ve sworn he’d caught a droplet of water fleet past with the wind. But when your head turned to meet his gaze, he found no hint of a tear on your face. Only remnants of an intangible emotion swirled in your expression. No matter how hard he tried, he could not see beyond the skin of your countenance.

Xavier’s lips parted involuntarily, only to be sealed close once more at the sight of you. Even in your silence, he could feel the whirlpool of unspoken words swirling about in your mind, pleading for release. So, he shut up. And sure enough, you spoke. “I understand,” you hummed. “I’ll drop out.”

Xavier stilled in his tracks. His mouth hung slightly ajar. “Is that...” he muttered. “Is that it?”

“Do you have nothing more to say?” he continued. You shifted back to the window. “No,” you shook your head. But the answer didn’t satisfy him.

“You aren’t angry at me?” he pushed.

“I am.”

“Then scream at me.”

“I told you. I understand.”

Xavier let out a sharp exhale. “That’s not an answer.”

“Well,” you sprang to your feet. This time, your actions carried an undertone of wrath. But just as you were about to utter a string of profanities and seething remarks, your eyes caught your own reflection in the mirror. You stood dumbfounded, staring yourself down. Your head drooped. Your eyes met your feet. Xavier could almost see it. A black lump of scribbles resembling the silhouette of a humanoid creature crept in through the cracks of your skin. It slithered into your skull and slipped into your mind. It spat a dark, gooey venom that caused your mind to fall into a state of disarray. Your thoughts swirled violently, oscillating against your skull with such fervour that it might have burst open. But you were stronger than that. Despite the chaos of your conscience, your face remained unmoving. And despite their attempts to break free, your skull remained unyielding. Nonetheless, Xavier could see it all. The worries that plagued you, the hurtful blows his decision had dealt. Xavier’s hands trembled. It’s for her own good. It’s for her own safety.

But...

If you cage a bird to protect it, it will lose its will to live. In my opinion, you turned to him with a radiant smile, it’s better to die happy and free than live safely.

You concluded, before he could form another thought, “It’s my answer. I hope you can make peace with it.”

Without a single word exchanged between the two of you, that evening, you packed your bags and returned to Linkon. Xavier’s texts inquiring about your safe return home remained unanswered, and, even worse, left on read. He’d hoped you would, at the very least, let your anger out on him. But you didn’t. Just like always, you’d bottled up and tucked yourself away in the coldest corners of your home, away from all human contact. It didn’t require a genius to pick up on your dejection. But Xavier couldn’t blame you. The cause of your hurt—no, the amplification of it—was due to him. He alone was the one to shoulder the responsibility. He’d ground the heart that was already broken into ash. But what could he do?

It might be better for a bird to die happy rather than die locked in a cage.

But if you lived, you could find another meaning for your existence that lay beyond the aether core. If you lived, you could find joy once more. So you must live. No matter what.

Later that night, a call was made from Xavier’s phone. Ring… Ring… Ring… His fingers tightened around the case. His gaze hardened. Pick up. He gritted his teeth. You don’t get to run off after screwing up my friendship. Following a couple more rings, the receiver picked up. A moment of silence stretched between the two, abundant with tension and unresolved hatred. Though the feelings seemed to stem from Xavier’s side, they existed mutually beneath wraps.

“She’s off the mission for good.” The man on the other side of the phone hummed. “What about you? Will you continue to throw yourself into the jaws of danger for her sake?” His voice was calculated—almost mocking. His words carried an undertone of challenge, as if daring him to tread on. But Xavier wouldn’t falter. “Yes. I suppose we won’t always be on the same side?”

“We won’t,” Sylus confirmed in a matter-of-fact tone. Xavier said nothing. Another suffocating quietude followed, lightened only by the steady breathing of the two. Xavier breathed with anticipation; his breaths were shaky. Sylus, on the other hand, carried an air of indifference. Like a predator toying with his prey, he stalled his words, reveling in the quickened heartbeat of the helplessly lovestruck man, which he could almost hear through the phone. Love was so shackling, he thought. Perhaps it wasn’t too bad to be free from its chains once and for all.

“If we stand by each other, you have to play by my rules. And I’m sure a righteous Linkon citizen like yourself would not agree to that.”

“We will see when the time comes.” “Right. You are Lumiere after all.” Sylus let out a sigh. “She will hate you for this.”

“I know.”

“Oh, the things we do for love.” He scorned.

Xavier’s eye twitched. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Maybe. But at least I know her well enough to know she lied to your face without even being there.”

He stilled. “What?”

“Oh, look at the time. Guess I’ll have to get going now. Good luck, Lumiere.” And before Xavier could protest, Sylus cut the line.

The cheerful murmurs of lovers and friends alike filled the air. Amidst their tête-à-tête, blenders and mixers whirred. The buzz of freezers resonated from an isolated corner. Couples passed by hand-in-hand as they approached the counter and listed their orders. Another group of friends sat at a table adjacent to yours, their laughter echoing throughout the store. One of them pointed at your drink before turning to her friend and declaring, “Hey, which flavour is that? I want it!” A fruity scent arose from your drink. But your focus was elsewhere entirely—glued to the posters on the wall that read, “A drink always tastes better with a lover! Come in pairs to receive our special couple’s discount!”

Your mind recalled all the times you’d faked having Xavier as your boyfriend to get the couple’s discount. You would come up with the idea near the entrance, eyeing the sign from outside. With a big grin, you’d turn to him, and he would immediately read you like a book. “Can we—” “No.” You frowned. “Whyyy?” He didn’t reply. Adorning the meanest glare you could muster, you shoved him harshly. “Fine! I won’t share my coupons with you ever again.” You spun around on your heels, pretending to return home. Xavier pinched the bridge of his nose and caught your wrist before you could waddle away. You didn’t turn to face him—feigning anger all while you grinned like an idiot unbeknownst to him. “Alright.” He shook his head. “We’re a couple.” You spun around, beaming at him. “Xavier is the bestest boyfriend ever!” you’d cheer as you whisked him into the boba store with your arm hooped around his.

You smiled at the memory. That was when everything was okay, when you’d begun to slot into your new, humble life as a hunter. You had a close friend as your neighbour, solving any problems with loneliness that might’ve occurred, a nice apartment, a decent salary, and a stable roof over your head. You were perfectly nested—an accomplished adult, you’d say. You even had more than what you’d asked for, more than you deserved. But then, the first rock tumbled down the hill. You discovered the aether core—a seed of destruction sown into a heart that beat for tranquillity. You wondered why it had to be you. Why were you, of all people; an ordinary girl indulging in an ordinary life, the target of so many ill-intentioned people? If you could pry the aether core from your heart and sell it at an auction, you would. For free. Because of this wretched, filthy ‘power’, you lost everyone. You met Sylus, which you wish you never had, because you decided to search for it in the N109 zone—his territory, apparently. And due to a chain of occurrences, you lost your only source of light. You lost Xavier. And now, once again, you were alone. As alone as the day you lost Grandma and as alone as the day Caleb betrayed your trust. Even after your return from Skyhaven, the one you sought refuge in was them. Now, they’d both slipped from your grasp and collaborated amongst themselves instead. They conspired against you. They both thought you were weak. Unworthy, a burden not worth carrying about. Like a bag full of stones.

A bitterness stained your throat, spreading through your abdomen until it plagued your chest. Your heart. The hatred you felt for yourself at this very moment baffled you. A hatred beyond comprehension, a hatred beyond all human understanding, including your own. You took a large sip of your fruity drink, swallowing a few bobas along the way. But the added sugar could not overwrite the bitterness. It could not hush the dark thoughts of your mind the way a lover’s embrace could. You wanted to rip yourself to shreds. And this time, you’d rearrange the bits yourself. The God that designed you did not love you. So, this time, you would recreate yourself. Properly. Just as you were meant to be. Just as you were meant to look. You would mould yourself, by sharpening your eyes and shaping your cheekbones, to look exactly like her. You would put on her skin and become her. If you did, you would be loved. All your problems would’ve disappeared if only you were her. You despised God for allowing you such an upbringing—one that would shape you into someone whom all loathed. If only you could be her. If only you were her.

“Hey! Are you listening?” Tara’s frantic voice cut you from your stream of consciousness, like how a splash of icy water would jolt a person awake. Your head snapped back to her. Her concern was palpable, streaming out of her eyes and from her lips. She stared at you with a small pout. “I was asking—are you sure about this long vacation or whatever?” You blinked. Once, twice. And then, your brain finally registered. “Oh, yes. I’m just, uhm… mentally exhausted. I’ve been seeing a therapist, and he recommended I take a break.” You lied through your teeth. Her eyes sharpened, scrutinising you with slight disbelief. You gulped. Did she see through you? To your relief, she followed with a dismissive wave of her hand. “Alright, alright. You have been down recently.” Your focus snapped to her. “You noticed?” “Yeah?” she said, as if stating the obvious. “You’ve been zoned out a lot at work. I mean, Captain Jenna was talking and you were drifting about in your little fairyland. She kept sending you glares, but you seemed troubled, so she left you be.” “Oh?” You tilted your head, pushing the emptied plastic cup aside. Tara continued. “In fact, she was going to persuade you to take a break herself if you hadn’t already submitted your application.” You hummed pensively. Everywhere, you just proved yourself to be a weightier burden. Perhaps, this break was beneficial for all. For yourself, for your colleagues, and for Xavier. It was about time you learned to schlep your own load. There was no one left to aid you anyway. This time, in your pursuit, you were utterly alone. The last fragment of the dimming star had left your side. Your life was a barren wasteland full of withered trees that bore crisp apples. It was littered with the remnants of the cosmos across your infertile earth, and only a colossal crimson moon hung where twinkles of hope once shone. Your universe had abandoned you. And for decades to come, your life would remain that way—a wasteland devoid of hope. The only way was forward. No matter how jagged the path ahead was, it was your destiny to tread it. If you didn’t chase after a dream, no matter how impossible it may be, you would lose your purpose; your will to live. You would pursue the aether core and unravel the mysteries of your past no matter what. How else could you shape your future? To have one in the first place, solving the riddles of your past was an absolute necessity. Xavier might not have understood, but he didn’t need to. He naturally couldn’t. He did not walk the same steps, did not share the same suffering, and did not grieve the same things. He would not understand. So, perhaps, working alone was the best decision for both of you.

After a pleasant conversation with Tara, you scooped your bag and left the Boba store. You headed straight for home. Your eyes stared at nothing but the various paths and occasional landmarks that you used to walk home. Not once did you look at the faces of the embarrassingly loud passers-by, and not once did you stop to gaze at the inky mass above. What use was there in indulging in a sky that held no stars for you? The cosmos had forgotten you already. You were just so insignificant. You tumbled down the alleys. Your legs did not come to a halt until you reached the safe entrance of your apartment. You stood there in front of the building’s intricately moulded gates, with your hands stuck on your knees, hunched over, all while you panted like an exhausted athlete. You’d ended up venting your frustrations into exercise and subconsciously ran all the way home for no apparent reason. What was wrong with you? You bet your psych evaluation right now would be worse than Caleb’s. It took you a while before you could catch your breath. And once you achieved peace of heart, you raised your head and brushed stray strands away from your face. You fumbled for your keycard, fishing through your bag messily. Each time your fingers hit the cold surface of items unwanted—your phone, water bottle, and whatever you very much did not need—you groaned audibly. But suddenly, your hands stilled. Your head lifted, trailing to the pathway leading up to the building’s actual entrance. From somewhere behind a pillar situated far from light, you could make out the shadow of a silhouette leering at you. The lurker did not move, even as you stared back with a knowing glare. They simply stood there, watching, observing, with no clear intent of concealing themselves. The figure was tall, familiarly so, with a good build and short hair. Male. And for a while, no movement emerged between the two of you as you simply held each other’s gazes.

And then, he moved.

The shadow tilted his head, allowing a portion of himself to be illuminated by the dim light of the vestibule. Under the newfound light, the first thing you caught was a sheaf of grey hair. And right below his locks were a gorgeous pair of cerulean eyes. But the eyes bore no stars—no hint of the light they once bore; the gleam that showed every second he was with you. And beneath the pool of warm blues, you saw nothing but hurt. Xavier’s eyes latched onto yours. His brow curved, ever so slightly. As if he were in excruciating pain, as if the mere sight of your presence tore him apart. Your breath hitched in your throat. Why was he staring at you like that? With the hurt of betrayal and abandonment? He was the one who’d betrayed you. He abandoned you. How dare he act as if he were the one in pain? Your lips trembled. How could he?

After the brief eye contact, Xavier turned and walked away, leaving you a quivering mess. You grabbed onto your wrist and bit down on the plush of your bottom lip. It wouldn’t matter how he felt. You would make him proud. And you would make him regretful. He would loathe his decision, and he would love you once more. And then, you would no longer have to be alone. This mission of yours was the sole key to redeeming yourself in the eyes of the world. You would tackle the ones that dared to screw with your fate, and you would bring peace to the ones abused by the aether core’s existence. No matter what, you would not waver. You would—

…

How could you?

You looked at your hands.

Had you forgotten? You were merely a girl.

Your fingers curled.

You couldn’t even attain love.

You pushed through the gates.

How could you even dream of becoming a hero?

Your feet hit the tiles of the porch.

You were nothing.

The elevator buzzed.

You could achieve nothing.

The door creaked open. You hung your coat on the rack beside the front door and unequipped your shoes with a languid kick. With weary legs, you strode in the dark. The first lightning of a brewing storm ripped through the sky, brightening a pathway to your room.

With one hand, you pushed the door open. You tossed the contents of your bag onto your bed carelessly. The bag itself hit the floor with a soft thud afterward. Not bothering to clean up after yourself, you plopped onto the bed and buried your face under a pillow. For thirty minutes, you tossed and turned. Your clothes stuck to your body unpleasantly. They suffocated you, despite being the right size. The coldness of the mattress did little to soothe your shivering nerves. You hugged yourself tighter in a futile attempt at comforting yourself. The thunderstorm picked up outside. A few droplets flew in from your window, landing on your face. Another thunder rumbled through the air. You flinched. But your body refused to shut the window.

Your outstretched hand met the clutter of items you’d discarded on your bed and felt around for the hard surface of a phone. You brought the device to your face, clumsily punched in your password, and began to scroll through your list of contacts. Caleb. You paused at the name. Your finger hovered over the call button. But after a second’s hesitation, you hit call.

Ring… Ring…

You swallowed.

Ring… Ring…

You choked on a sob.

Ring…

“Hello?” You opened your mouth, but your voice was caught in your throat. “Pip-squeak?”

Even through the call, you could hear the anticipation in Caleb’s voice. This was the first time you’d attempted to contact him ever since the incident in Skyhaven. It was the first time you’d willingly reached out. You could only assume it was as important to him as it was to you. “Caleb…?” Your voice came out smaller than you’d intended it to. “Is something the matter?” “Are you busy?”

He paused. “No.” “Then…” You stopped. Should you? Could he still pose a threat to your safety? But, in spite of everything, he was the person closest to you. Besides all, he was still Caleb. With a stupid chip in his brain or without. You gulped.

“Can I meet you in Skyhaven? Tonight?”

[charlesoberonn]

My take on the Avatar origin story:

About 50,000 years before the show, humanity learned how to bend the energy within themselves. This allowed them to perform feats of strength and ability beyond their physical limits. And using these abilities they started expanding across the globe.

Wherever they came to dwell, they dominated over the other lifeforms, eventually leading to the extinction of many species. This angered the spirits, especially the Spirit of the planet itself, whose long-standing balance was thrown off.

In retaliation to rid herself of this nuisance, the Spirit of the world caused great volcanic eruptions, storms, tidal waves, and earthquakes to kill the humans. Humanity was driven to near extinction, with only 10,000 humans remaining. These humans gathered in an isolated valley, the last safe place on the planet.

But rather than finishing them off there and then, the Spirit of the world grew curious and even empathetic towards the humans. The compassion they showed one another, the care in which they cultivated their new home. The Spirit didn't understand how humans could be so ignoble and violent and at the same time so virtuous and kind.

And so the Spirit chose to be reborn as a human, to try to understand how humans work. And thus the first Avatar was born.

Her name was Hizda, and she was born with a frail body to a family of little means. Despite this disadvantage, she was loved and cared for by her parents and her community.

As she grew, she struggled with leaning to bend the energy within her. She thought she'd be weak for the rest of her life. Until one day she extended her energy outward, and rather than bend the energy within, she bended the elements without. A feat only a few animals were thought capable of.

Word of the miraculous girl quickly spread across the valley, reaching the ear of the Great Chief. An old man who remembered the outside world, he was wary of the girl. He believed her to be an agent of the Spirit which killed their people not a generation prior. And so he sent out his son to kill her.

Not wanting her community attacked, Hizda fled the valley into the outside world, with her closest friends coming with her despite her protestations. The Great Chief's son pursued them with his own agents.

Across her journey she met many spirits and creatures who had reclaimed the abandoned lands the humans left behind. Naturally, they were apprehensive of humans, but Hizda convinced them she meant no harm. She learned of the damage her ancestors had caused and vowed to help repair it. And she met the creatures of the elements and learned from them to control her powers.

After a year on the run, she confronted the Chief's son who pursued her all the way to the North Pole. The two fought and Hizda won. But instead of delivering the killing blow, she spared him. And she convinced him to help her convince his father that a new way was possible.

Hizda and her friends returned to the valley and confronted the Great Chief. He rejected her and ordered her dead still, but she could defend herself. Half of all humanity sided with her, but half still sided with the Great Chief. It seemed like humanity's destructive nature could not be changed.

But then the Chief's son surprised everyone when he proposed to Hizda. Aghast at his son's behavior, the Great Chief had a change of heart. He abdicated his responsibility, making Hizda and her husband (the new Chief) and leaders of humanity.

Under their leadership, humanity made peace with the spirits and began the long process of rebuilding the scarred world.

Later in life, Hizda and the Chief had four sons. Each of them inherited one of their mother's elements. And in time, their children would inherit that element, and so on and so forth. And thus benders came into the world. Each son would become the forefather of one of the four nations.

In her old age, The widowed Hizda returned to the valley of her birth. She found a Banyan tree and meditated under its shade, trying in her dying days to understand the nature of humanity, the world, and herself. She realized in the end her nature as the reborn Spirit of the world. But she also knew that there was so much still left to do. More to build, more to resolve, more to heal.

And so, instead of returning to her spirit form, the Spirit of the world's Avatar chose to stay human. And as her life as Hizda ended, the Spirit was reborn in a new human body, and the Avatar cycle was born.

[lets-get-kraken-boys]

˖⁺ ・🔪⋆ ♡ 💌・ ⁺ ˖ Yandere brain rot againnnnnnn ˖⁺ ・🔪⋆ ♡ 💌・ ⁺ ˖

Oh, to be the soul light and hope in this world for someone.

To be their last reason they don't release all rational thought and go ballistic. They don't act like it, but they cling VIOLENTLY to the thread of light you generously gift to them. The tiny speck of peace your presence brings is like a drink of icy water after walking through the largest desert in the world. Their mind is finally quiet.

Your grace washes over them, and suddenly, nothing matters anymore. No more pain, no more sorrow. They can just curl up in your arms, lay their head on your soft chest, and everything is alright again. That thing they were banging their head against the wall about? What thing? Yeah, they don't remember it either! Just hug them closer, tighter, and they'll happily sheath the glistening knife trembling in their unstable grip.

They've finally found their happiness after a lifetime filled with nothing but misery and pain. You've given them the chance to experience a loving embrace with no ulterior motives, a warm home, and an indescribable feeling of security and safety. They would do—and have done—anything and everything to make you satisfied. Whether it be something as simple as bringing home a bouquet of roses to remind their pretty rose how beautiful you really are, or hunting down disgusting vermin that won't take 'no' for an answer; they're here. They want to save you in the same way you saved them. They want to give you the same euphoric feeling you give them every time you even cross their mind. You're their everything.

Oh, how tragic it would be if you died. Be it by the hands of another, from illness, or some other natural cause—it doesn't matter. You left them. Alone. Afraid. Upset. Hurt. EMPTY.

Nothing left to hold them back now.

Nothing good left in this forsaken existence.

For the rest of their days, they vow to wreak havoc on every living soul on the face of the earth that did nothing to save their sunshine from the bloody talons of Fate's cruel design. And they follow through with that promise. Ripping, tearing, slashing, crushing, grinding, smooshing, gutting, goring, snipping, hacking. Every nasty, horrible, disgusting deed they complete is in your honor. It doesn't matter, nothing does—not until you're together again.

They know this life isn't the end. They know they'll have you in their arms again one day. Their rotten soul can loosen its grip on all the hate it harbors as soon as their body starts to shut down in the wake of their demise. Their death is swiftly approaching, yet they feel not a scrap of fear. They're overjoyed, in fact. All because they know they get to see you again. Finally, the endless days and nights of filling the bullet-shaped void in their heart are over. No more irritating early mornings filled with overflowing coffee in a your favorite mug and agonizing, sickening bird songs. No more sleepless late nights of hunting down the forsaken souls who dared disturb the memory of your smile and guzzling every alcoholic drink in their dusty cabinets to dull the emptiness. They slip away from this life with the first genuine smile on their lips since you passed.

Even though an unsullied and virtuous angel like you would never have descended to the hellish pit of, no doubt, their resting place, that doesn't matter. Not even Heaven or Hell can keep you safe from their grasp. They'll claw and scratch their sorry carcass out of their prison cell in Hell all the way up to Heaven's doorstep, burn down those pearly gates, hunt you down the same as they did their prey in the living world, and drag you back with them kicking and screaming with them.

You won't be able to leave them ever again. They'll make sure of it this time.

જ⁀➴ ♡ Wrote with these characters in mind જ⁀➴ ♡

TOJI, Suguru (HEAVYYYYY on him, think of how everything about him changed after Riko), Obito, Garou, DABI girl omg, or some other hunky depressed maniac that could break the neck of everyone within a hundred foot radius with a flick of their wrist. Kill for you type beat. Teehee. And, of course, your favsssss!

⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝♡

With Love,

Kraken 🐙

[tastywordgasms]

👑🖤𝓒𝓞𝓥𝓔𝓡 𝓡𝓔𝓥𝓔𝓐𝓛🖤👑 Virtuous Vows by @authortlsmith and @kiacarringtonrussellauthor 𝖎𝖘 𝓡𝖊𝖑𝖊𝖆𝖘𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖓 March 1st! 𝓟𝖗𝖊𝓞𝖗𝖉𝖊𝖗 𝖎𝖘 𝖓𝖔𝔀 𝖆𝓿𝖆𝖎𝖑𝖆𝖇𝖑𝖊!! @tlsmith1313 @kiacarringtonrussell/

Title: Virtuous Vows Author: T.L. Smith & Kia Carrington-Russell Genre: Dark Romance Tropes: Opposites Attract, Male Escort, Wounded Hero Release Date: March 1, 2024 Cover Design:  Discreet Paperback – Hang Le eBook – RBA Design       Honey I was destined to marry another man when I first met Dawson. He was charming, deadly, and everything my father hated. And I lived by my father’s rule,…

[kenziesimsblog]

SIMS 3 HIGH SCHOOL STEROTYPE LEGACY

hi guys! I decided to make my very own legacy for sims 3! I hope you enjoy it as much as I do!

some traits are repeated because they fit!

GEN 1-EMO

you never really fit in when you lived in your small town so as soon as you became a young adult you moved to the bustling city where you began a new alternative band.

traits - over-emotional, loner, virtuous, shy, and night owl

lifetime wish-rock star

career- music

requirements

must fall in love with another emo. -must name kids after alternative band members / singers, albums or songs.

must have fun colored hair. -must have piercing (s)

dye hair at least 3 times during each life stage

must complete lifetime wish.

master guitar skill

start a band. -must be close to bandmates

perform every or most gig you get. -reach level 5 celeb status

GEN 2-POPULAR

you are the exact opposite of your parent but hey when you're the kid of a famous band member you're bound to be popular.

traits- diva, irresistible, social butterfly, party animal, and flirty

lifetime wish- super popular..

career-any

requirements must have 2 best friends. choose either being a mean popular or a nice one. throw tons of parties be in at least 3 relationships before finding the one. marry the nerdiest person. master the charisma skill. don't lose any friends. chat with friends at least once week have at least 1 boy and 1 girl

GEN 3-NERD

your parent always taught you to be yourself and to show how smart you are!

traits - genius, bookworm, socially awkward, eccentric, and loser

lifetime wish- perfect student

career- scientist requirements always have an "A" in school go to university. earn your degree with a perfect GPA. earn a scholarship. be a strict parent. if kid has lower than a yell at them meet your partner in university. make kids have daily chores. make kids have curfew of 7. master logic skill master inventor skill

GEN 4- THE CLASS CLOWN

your parent was super strict and you vowed to never be like them

traits good sense of humor, rebellious, easily impressed, inappropriate,and friendly.

lifetime wish- distinguished director.

career- director

requirements have a bad relationship with your parents. have a "D" in school. always pull pranks on school and home become a director for comedies (pretend) master street art skill have at least 1 girl steal partner from someone else

GEN 5- HORSE GIRL

horses, horses, horses that's all you talk about traits - equestrian, loves the outdoors, ambitious, athletic ,and lucky

lifetime wish- the jockey

career- none all your time is spent with horses

requirements have a horse as a child. must be female. have at least 2 horses ride them every day. marry a cowboy/cowgirl. enter racing. live in a farmhouse. master riding skill have 1 kid that you have a bad relationship with.

GEN 6-BULLY

your mom only paid attention to her horses and not you resulting in a bully

traits- evil, mean spirited , grumpy, brooding, and coward

lifetime wish- ceo of mega corporation

career - business requirements be hated by everyone. have one "friend" that is a sidekick. get pregnant or impregnate a one-night stand. have baby in your household. co parent with one night stand even though you hate it. marry one night stand at middle/end of adult life. have one more child/ or multiples before you reach elder status. at least perform two mean actions a day

GEN 7- GAMER

your parents didnt care what you did they spent to much time hating each other so what better way to distract your self then video games

traits- couch potato, computer whiz, heavy sleeper, night owl and loner

lifetime wish- blog artist

career - video game developer

requirements attend university to master nerd social group. drop out when maxed nerd group. marry college sweetheart. cheat on college sweetheart with person you met online. have one kid with college sweetheart.

have more with new partner play video games every day. run a blog about games. master logic skill

GEN 8- THEATER KID

you spent all of your childhood watching plays dreaming one day it would be you

traits- star quality, natural born performer , hopeless romantic , dramatic, and ambitious

lifetime wish- superstar actor.

career- actor

requirements name kids after real life actors woohoo 5 celebs. complete lifetime wish. get pregnant by 3 different celebs. have at least 3 kids have a bad reputation. ruin your reputation at least once. never get married. spoil your kids.

GEN 9- JOCK

you lived in a booming town with a big gym where you spent most of your time

traits- handy, athletic, vegetarian, green thumb, and daredevil

lifetime wish- become a superstar athlete.

career- athletic

requirements master lifetime wish. be a vegetarian. have a garden of healthy vegetables. workout everyday max gardening skill max handy skill max athletic skill meet partner at gym. have a big family (4 kids)

GEN 10-ARTSY

traits- artistic, avant garde, adventurous, perfectionist, virtuoso

lifetime wish-master of arts

career- self employed artist

requirements master guitar skill master painting skill travel to different countries for inspiration meet partner in another country. perform for tips. sell paintings. at least always have one animal in house house is very colorful. do photography on the side. master lifetime wish. go out with family every holiday.

be sure to tag me in posts if you decide to play!

[anchovies-4-dinner]

Baby, your pants are on fire

This is my offering to the gacha deities to make me win his lightcone.

Scenario: On Valentine's Day, you feign sickness so your long-distance lover won’t find out about your affair. We all know how that goes.

Warnings: OOC, cheating, graphic violence (including towards you), suggested nsfw (not between s/o and you), degrading (burn victims beware), revenge porn

If my writing is abominable it’s because I finish these at the ass crack of dawn

Characters: Argenti, Jiaoqiu, Anaxa, Phainon, Mr Reca

Argenti

Was this another of his trials? What abhorrent timing.

Despite many triumphs, never had his very foundations been so shaken. His virtuous, beautiful partner enraptured by another… He would have laughed if your being wasn’t desecrated.

Many have been used to sway his conviction, whether real or illusions, but this was where he drew the line.

The bang of the door announced Argenti’s appearance; you gasped and froze in shock, as did your… companion.

Honour, piety, righteousness. This silent chant grounded the knight as he pulled you away with great urgency despite your nudity. Your mouth fluttered, trying to formulate an excuse despite his attention fixed on the elephant in the room.

"Rise, incubus, and I shall avenge my lover's honour with a duel." Argenti spat those words out disgracefully, already picturing the beast moulting into its true form. It took every fibre of his being to not behead it right then and there.

The beast blinked in a stupor, "An… Incubus? Duel?"

"Do you still feign ignorance?" Argenti's patience wore thin, "What a mighty trial Idrilla has prepared. First you trick my lover into copulation, then you play coy to test my mettle. Stand your ground before I give you an undignified end."

By all things considered, he was being very generous. Yet laughter bubbled out its chest, "You- You really are a freak show! (Y/n) told us all about your antics. If it weren't for your face, I'd wonder why they even date you at all!"

Argenti's skin buzzed.

Light fingers grazed his armour as you desperately explained yourself, "He's lying! It's just as you said Argenti, I woke up from his spell as soon as you pulled me away… Oh Aeons, what have I done!"

"They enjoyed it!" The beast squawked, visibly frustrated at your lack of truth cooperation, "Hey, don't make me out as some sort of criminal-"

"'Enjoyed it?' You call that a satisfactory performance?"

"Well you begged for another round didn't you?!"

Now Argenti understood: This wasn’t a trial, and it was more than a lesson.

It was a punishment.

A loud thud silenced the room; the knight had dropped his spear. He calmly approached the incubus and stopped a mere foot away. It's eyes flickered to yours nervously.

"D-Dude… You're mad at the wrong guy here. If I'm getting punched, you may as well punch them as well because-"

A firm hand on its shoulder shut it up. Argenti's brilliant smile stunned you both. "Thank you."

Red splattered the walls. Your mind blanked as the body crumpled with a gaping hole in its chest. Your lover faced you, arm soaked in blood while clutching a stuttering organ - the heart. He had once again emerged victorious with a revelation sweeter than your kiss.

Without a care, Argenti abandoned the object as he suddenly knelt before you, eyes stained with regret.

He took your hand with his clean one, "My rose - if I even have the privilege to call you that anymore - I surrender myself to any judgement you see fit."

At your perplexed stare he elaborated, lips puckered to your fingers before he realised the taste of metal*, "I had been so caught up in my duty that I neglected my one and only. Thanks be to Idrilla that her intervention set my mind straight… although it came at the cost of your dignity. But now, a more beautiful and profound era of our love is born."

His hold tightened as he reverently pressed your knuckles to his forehead.

"I vow to never leave your side again - 'Till death do us apart."

*This sentence may be a bit confusing, but basically he was about to kiss your hand but stopped because he realised that his lips had blood on them

Jiaoqiu

For being so vocal about Valentines Day, Jiaoqiu was awfully quiet while it passed.

Any feelings of guilt were melted away by the spread of warm oil. Your foxian lover had urged you to visit for a surprise once your 'sickness' ended; he'd usually go with a banquet, but it seems he's finally had enough of making food his entire personality.

A kneading motion elicited a sigh as his slender fingers worked the tension out of your muscles. Though you couldn't see his expression, you imagined a smile adorning his face. How lucky you are to have such a doting boyfriend.

His soft voice, barely above a whisper, broke your reverie, "You could've gotten this a lot sooner had you taken care of your health."

"Barely my fault. Some gal at work had the flu-" You were silenced by his teeth kissing as his hands glided up your sides, finishing at your shoulders.

The press of his palms were sorely missed due to his departure, returning with a towel and water. While you climbed onto your elbows to down the refreshment, Jiaoqiu pecked your scalp, dabbing away the excess oil. A comfortable silence reigned before he inquired:

"You seem to be working a lot these days. Boss giving you any trouble?"

"No. Nothing like that." You dismissed the accusation, "I just needed the extra money, hence me working overtime."

"You could have asked me."

"I don't like leeching off others." You slid back down, head between arms, silently hoping his curiosity was satiated.

He hummed and placed the towel on a counter, "So now you're being mindful of your habits?"

"A person can change, you know?"

"Perhaps. Or maybe I simply didn't know you at all."

Dread curled your stomach. A chuckle bubbled out from worry, "I have no idea what you're on about."

"Liar."

His hot breath tickled your ear. Your hair fell back into place when he withdrew to wash his hands of oil. Throat closing, you tried to sit up only to realise you just… couldn't. Gasps of panic prompted Jiaoqiu to lecture you - about what? Who cares, he paralysed you! It wasn't until his voice grew in volume that you quietened.

Fingers carded through your hair, nails grazing the scalp while Jiaoqiu continued, "… I really didn't get it. Did I not love you enough? Was it the distance? All these thoughts yet I was no closer to comprehending your poor decisions. But why would I ever want to understand a cheater?"

His fist balled, bunching your hair to drive home the malice in his voice - just for the flames to quench in a beat, "However… I know we can work through this like a real couple."

Tears pricked your eyes in relief, "Thank you, I promise- I-"

"That doesn't mean I forgive you." Soft lips pressed against your nape. The tip of his nail dug into your silkened flesh, "It wouldn't be fair."

White pain battered your senses upon your skin tearing in too many directions to count. Blood spotted the back of your throat from guttural shrieks. Ghost spasms induced nausea with bile clogging your oesophagus; it was only the gagging that eventually stopped the torture.

Retched sobs filled the room, during which Jiaoqiu backed off; from the corner of your eyes, he flicked the sodden flesh out under his nails. Your weak pleas fell on deaf ears while he vacated the room, leaving you vulnerable on the table. The sticky sensation of blood running off your back accentuated the throb of your wounds.

Things were no better when he returned with salt.

"Why are you crying? You should be happy I'm willing to stay." His casual tone did little to calm your hysterics as the pop of the lid quivered your lips.

Jiaoqiu leant down and gave you one final kiss.

"How lucky you are to have such a doting boyfriend."

Anaxa

Beep… Beep… Beep…

For a moment, you could pretend that everything was still fine. That the incessant beeping was your alarm. But, of course, all good things had to come to an end.

"Sudden housefire leaves two victims with severe burns. One has passed from injuries." Anaxa slowly raised the newspaper for a side-by-side comparison of you and your portrait, "Sounds familiar."

You glared at him through your last good eye. He smirked in amusement, "Nice look, may I ask where you got the inspiration?"

If it weren't for the bandages scaling your entire body you would've happily given him a beating. When he first walked in, you at least hoped for flowers, but you should've known that not a single romantic bone lay in his vessel.

A nudge on your arm brought you back; Anaxa had propped his legs on the hospital bed to comfortably lounge on the chair near your feet. The newspaper laid flat as he studied your body, hand resting his head.

The gauze muffled your remark. Despite being drugged up to the stars, the pain still throbbed under ribbons of muscle.

"70% of your body suffered second-degree burns. Half your face is gone. You can't move without pissing yourself." At your heated glare, he rolled his eye, "I'm telling you to shut up. Honestly, how could you be so careless?"

Heart leaping in anger, you forced out a defence, "I didn't… Not me!"

"I'm not talking about the fire." Anaxa sneered, "You're not that stupid."

… …Beep… Beep…

Taking the skip in cardiac rhythm for an answer, he continued, "Where should I start? You were sloppy. You didn't think of the possibility of me returning… It was Valentine's Day for goodness’ sake. Are you daft?”

"When did you-"

"I told you to shut up."

"No, this isn't my fault." You furrowed your brows, "You… never cared. Always ignoring me… I may as well have been single!"

"By the Titans, you really are a fool!" Anaxa gripped the armchair, "Unless dementia has claimed me early, which is impossible, I don't recall ever breaking things off! So stop playing the victim!"

You clenched your teeth. The Sage sighed. Just when you considered kicking him out, you felt his hand slowly dip under the covers, lightly tracing your dressing.

"… I never saw you so happy before. Albeit, not with me. If you had just talked to me, none of this would've happened." His hand wrapped around your ankle, "No one would be hurt."

Beep Beep Beep-

Realising the implication, you tried shaking off his grip to no avail. If anything, he only squeezed harder. Pain shot up your nerves. Your skin itched under the suffocating bandages.

BeepBeepBeep-

The door swung open. A nurse had come at the alert of the heart monitor.

Hope clogged your chest, "He's hurting me! Out… I need him out!"

She merely pursed her lips, glancing at Anaxa. He dismissed her with a shake of his head.

Oh.

At least his grip loosened enough for the pain to fade, though it did nothing to soothe your mounting dread. "You're hideous. Inside, and now out. A vile creature no sane person would sex even if a gun kissed their forehead. An undesirable used rag-"

The world blurred as you failed to hold back tears, "Fuck you.”

Wasn't it enough that you couldn't look in the mirror? You didn't expect his ego to be so bruised as to tear down someone at their lowest.

"Shut up. Just-" He snarled, walking to the window. It took a while for him to cool down, "We're going back to the Grove."

It hurt to even shake your head. Anaxa forced a laugh. "So stubborn. Your friends haven’t visited you and your family is non-existent. Why stay?

I'm the best option you have, darling, and the only one. I made sure of it"

I just realised Amphoreus probably doesn't have modern hospital gear but we ignore that for the sake of plot. Also, I don't think burn victims are hideous, Anaxa is saying that because he wants to hurt you and make you feel insecure.

Phainon

"(Y/n)?"

Phainon's voice startled you off the woman. Covering yourself with the duvet, you spluttered in shock at the Deliverer.

"… So, this was what you were up to while your boyfriend was fighting for Okhema?" Through gritted teeth he plastered a skewed grin.

"You…" Your voice wobbled as you tried to think up an excuse, "You never made time for me!”

"Are we really ignoring my countless requests for you to move in with me? If you truly felt that way, you wouldn't have thought twice!"

The woman, having dressed herself during your argument, tried to step past Phainon. She made it to his side before he grabbed her collar, "And who the hell are you?"

"Let her go!"

He easily evaded you, ignoring the cries of the woman who pleaded to be freed. It was obvious she was more than some fling by how frantic you were; the thought boiled his blood. Upon getting no answer, he pinned the woman to the wall with his hand wrapped around her neck.

"S-Stop-" She heaved, whistles of air escaping her dirty lips.

Phainon squeezed harder. It was only when you scratched his face that he diverted his attention; his other hand grabbed your hair which effectively ceased your assault. With such a clear view, he could see your eyes dilate in fear - he didn't know if it brought him joy or pain.

"I believe I asked a question." Your boyfriend no longer smiled, "Who. Is. She?"

"She's just a friend-"

"You expect me to believe that?! I see the way you look at her, how long has this been going on for?" His voice cracked, throat closing up. No, he can't cry, not until he sees this through.

"If I tell you, will you stop choking her?" He didn't respond. With a lack of a better option you gave in, "… 2 years."

"But that's-" Phainon fell silent.

There was a drawn-out hush while you assessed his blank expression. Just as the woman teetered on the edge of passing out, he released you both. You immediately hooked an arm around the woman to raise her body. Phainon's cold gaze instilled a sense of urgency when you ducked away-

"You know, I always tried to be perfect for you. For everyone." You paused, if only to placate him. He continued, "At first I thought it was something I did. But 2 years? Honey, that's almost the entirety of our relationship."

"I-I was greedy."

"Yes, yes you are. I'm glad we can agree on that." Wondering where this was going, you met his eyes despite the woman urging you to go, "Then you should also understand that the Deliverer can't have any flaws - much less anyone who'll drag him down."

Was he breaking up with you? Thank the Titans. You sighed in relief, "Of course, I get it."

Phainon's smile was as blinding as it was genuine, "Good!"

He snapped the woman's neck.

It took a second for you to register her head flop unnaturally - even longer when her body went limp. A scream erupted from the bottom of your chest; he covered your mouth in an instant and shushed you.

Upon noticing your attention on the fallen corpse, he tilted your head up to force eye contact. "Oh, it seems you've misunderstood me. Did you think I'd let you leave after everything I've done for us? No. This time it's your turn to pull your weight."

He backed away, leaving you to collapse onto your knees while he pulled out your luggage, "C'mon, we leave after you're finished packing."

At your silence he sighed and knelt, hands taking yours with a sudden gentleness. The same ones that took the woman's life. "I can forgive you for this. I will. Just do one thing for me in return -

Show Okhema you're worthy of being mine, even if you have to bleed for it."

Mr Reca

"(Y/n), Mr Reca, look over here!"

A brilliance of light momentarily blinded you as cameras clicked. The grip on your arm shifted when Reca eventually pulled you along, eager to mingle with the guests.

Tonight was the premiere of his latest movie. As you walked away from the red carpet, a reporter bounded up and asked for an interview; your boyfriend smiled, handing the burden to you before waltzing off.

Had you actually been in love with him you'd be hurt. But business is business, and you gladly took this opportunity to push your popularity.

"… Mr Reca has also alluded to a surprise for us in the film. As his muse, are there any juicy details you can spare us?"

You laughed, "Not even I am privy to the secret. Regardless, I have good faith that the audience will be blown away."

The edge of your lip twitched when you caught sight of the Assistant Director at the back.

Afterwards, you mingled with others until it was time for the movie to start. Settling down on your VIP seats, you were quick to remove your hand from Reca's. Usually he wouldn't care, however, this time he couldn't help smiling like some sort of killer.

You were about to tell him to knock it off, but the sudden dimming of the lights hushed you. The audience was enraptured with the opening sequence of the film, and you couldn't help grinning whenever you appeared on screen.

It was midway through when he suddenly grabbed your hand. You quirked a brow as he leant towards you, eyes glued to the screen, raising your hand to his lips which hid his expression.

The next scene was grainy and of lower quality. The camera followed a person facing away.

It was… you?

But you didn't have any recollection of shooting this scene. Glancing around, you could see the crew's shared confusion.

You looked at Reca. He met your gaze, eyes crinkling with glee.

A chorus of gasps drew your attention back to the screen. Blood drained from your face.

The Valentine's Day affair was plastered on the screen for all to see. You shakily tried to stand up, however, Reca pushed you down. He grabbed your face and forced you to watch the screen.

"Don't play coy now. Look how well my muse performs." He pressed his face into your side, breath tickling your cheek, "The emotion. The passion. I can feel it all from here."

That was how the following minute played out, though for you it felt much longer. As soon as the segment ended, Reca's grip grew lax, and you took this chance to stumble to the washroom.

You stared into the mirror: red marks splotched the lower half of your face with tears raining on the basin. Your knuckles turned white from gripping the counter, eyes closing while you tried to level your breathing.

When you next opened them, Reca was already behind you.

Ignoring your glare at his reflection, he walked along the stalls, lightly pushing each door open until it was confirmed no one else was here. He finally faced you with a shit eating grin.

"Dear, why are you so upset? Rejoice! The audience loves what you brought to the table."

"So what, is this some sort of revenge?" You choked out, "One mistake and you get to throw me under the bus?"

His footsteps grew closer, "On the contrary. Such a scene would be wasted otherwise-"

"Scene? Scene?! Do you think that just because we are together you can film my entire life?" You whirled around with burning ferocity.

Instead of being intimidated, Reca raised a brow as if you were in the wrong, "Well, you signed my contract, did you not?"

"I…"

"Then you should know that the clause 'your world is my stage' should be taken literally, yes?"

You knew that shit would come back to bite you in the ass. "Remove that scene! You can keep everything else, just remove that footage!"

"And disappoint the audience? I think not."

A splitting headache delayed your response, "… I want to rescind the contract."

"Oh don't be a fool darling-"

"Don't 'darling' me!" A loud smack echoed. Pinpricks littered your hand while Reca's cheek glowed red. "I want to drop the contract! Now!"

He rubbed the wound. Amusement danced in his eyes despite your demand, "'Director's lover breaks up with him after filming an intimate scene'. Pull out and it won't take long for the world to realise it wasn't acting."

… He was right. He was right and you hated him for it.

The Assistant Director glinted in a corner, 'eyes' adjusting to your movements. That fucker was still recording you even now. A surge of rage had you seizing Reca's collar, shoving him onto the wall and assaulting him with all your might. Yet his smile merely grew.

Muffled voices sounded from outside the washroom. You had little time to react when Reca pulled you close and craned his neck down - the door swung open with a gasp before the giggling crowd quickly ushered themselves out. Once the door shut, you tried pushing away, face burning with humiliation. His embrace remained strong.

"I don't need your devotion. After all, directors rarely play in their own movies." He kissed the top of your head, “You just so happen to be my favourite actor.”

Mr Reca is a cuckold pass it on [how the hell do you write this man]. Also I gave up on shortening his part because how do you actually shorten his part bruh

[wakandama2]

I wanna Black Carrie-inspired movie, real rep for us stuck in a white country town Black girls. So, walk wit me real quick-

Locational Background: We still set in the late 70's. Set in multiple rural towns, the main town being Chamberlain, Missouri when the meat of the story takes place. We are firmly in the upper south/Midwest tho.

Our Carrie inspired MC is named Alanna(will be relevant and fucked up later)

Alanna's Mama, Evette, is a Black white passing woman and was the daughter of the town's Black tailor and his wife a music teacher and a righteous choir leader for the Black church who was known for a 'voice of power' that was known to shake the church foundations and make people run around the building in glory.

This gift is passive in Evette leaving her with just a beautiful singing voice. Evette's voice and virtuous image and ways draws the attention of a traveling white Evangelistic-leaning cult leader, Alan Hobbs (he's kinda Jim Jones esc) who whisked her off to join his 'missionary' in order to travel around the country to warn of the rapture and demand repentance of sinners.

He unofficially marries her and gets her pregnant and when Alanna comes out looking very visibly Black, he tries to kill her as a baby because he would expose him as being 'sinful'. Alanna's gift activates through her cries and controls Evette's body and makes her stop Alan from killing their baby. Evette screams in despair and her own gift kills him. Evette's feverish (and kinda delusional) faith of what Alan taught her is the only thing that keeps her together when she has to hide his murder and head back to Chamberlain, taking care of Alanna the whole way.

When Evette gets back to her hometown and relays the story to her mother in distress. Her mother is relieved and reveals that the women in their family having Powerful Voices is a gift from their greatest grandmother as she had been blessed to use it to protect her daughters and sisters during slavery. She also confirms to Evette that Alanna's voice has the potential for Powers Grander than the last four generations of women.

Evette skews this information with the teachings of "women's sinful nature" that Alan had taught her and concluded that the gift is actual evil and a curse of sin. She convinces herself that Alanna is the sign of the devil's return and it's her job to quell her.

Evette cuts herself off from her family (especially her maternal side) and runs away to raise Alanna by herself in Chamberlain, pretending that Alanna is actually her niece and taking a public vow of silence (both for her faith and her misplaced guilt for killing Alan) She uses the tailoring skills her father taught her to work as a laundress and commission dress maker for the local tailor.

Between baby to 15 years old for Alanna, It's very much like the movies, Evette being incredibly strict and abusive in teaching Alanna that simply being a woman, was being sinful and to bundle down her emotions because having a temper or tone, to be anything other than submissive and quiet was just as sinful as womanhood. This lesson was particularly to stop Alanna from activating her powers again. There is an additional impact of insecurity she puts into Alanna with her looking Black and being one of the very few colored girls in the town.

Like Carrie, our poor Alanna gets her period for the first time during gym and none of her classmates, besides her only friend an equally shy Creek girl named Talia, are kind to her about it. Her distress makes the showers freak out and ground shake Talia is the only one that calms Alanna enough for the gym teacher to intervene and actually be of use. The gym teacher calls Evette to the school to get Alanna and explain menstruation to her.

After explaining how menstruation is all Eve's fault to Alanna, Evette has her take a cold bath and to read the story of Adam and Eve over and over again. During her bath time as she reads, rage fills Alanna as she gathers feelings that the biting of the apple and getting kicked out of Eden was a trick done on Eve, not her being sinful and selfish. This jolts her powers and with an angry whisper about how wicked the snake was, Alanna suddenly heats the bath water to a temperature that helps with her cramps and is intrigued.

Cue her being excused to the library that entire week. When Talia sneaks out to join her one day she relays all her questions and findings to Talia. Talia confirms that yes, it is NOT normal to heat water or cause quakes with her voice. Period of not. Talia explains how she was an early bloomer like her mother and grandmother and inspires Alanna to look into her mother's side to get explanations.

Now cue Alanna and Talia hijinks as they secretly research and test Alanna's powers for the rest of the week and weekend. Alanna finds all the letters her grandmother had set to Evette trying to convince her that their gift is a good thing and that she is a good woman. Reveling the deep history and various ways the powers of their voice can manifest. Alanna actually contacts her grandmother (call or letters idk what was more efficient for the 70s lol)

During all of this, the other girls are still hazing Alanna (and y'know being both macro and micro racist in their bullying). This comes to a head that next week where the prank they do gets Alanna nearly drowned during swim day.

This causes rage to rear up in Evette that she hadn't felt in years and she lays into the principal and gym teacher to actually give the girls repercussion for their actions. Leading to the three ringleaders to get suspended for a week and banned from prom that following week. They also have to write an essay about kindness.

One of the girls (uh, let's call her Cynthia) actually learns that damn, I was being a mean racist bitch for no damn reason, this girl hasn't done anything to me to warrant this treatment. She becomes cordial with Talia, then works with her Football Captain brother to put Alanna on the radar of the Black boy, Adam, and help him to woo Alanna.

At the same time this outburst of herself and near reemergence of her powers scares Evette and she confronts Alanna to see if it was actually her daughter's powers that caused it (just like at her birth). Alanna says no it was Evette's own and this causes her mother to break down and force a confession from Alanna that yes, she knows about their gift of a Powerful Voice and had been writing letters/calling her grandmother for information.

The two get into basically a battle of Powerful Voice in the argument, nearly causing a damn tornado to hit the town. Alanna proves that she has the greater voice just like her grandmother predicted (also because Alanna has been practicing). This puts her mother into submission and Alanna starts to demand and affirm more kindness (or at least being left tf alone) from her mother.

That whole week of suspension, Alanna is smitten from the soft wooing from Adam and coaxing of Talia and Cynthia for her to accept his prom proposal. While all this happens, the other ringleader (Uh, Susan!) is planning to do the whole public humiliation thing and to have her equally loser boyfriend slash Adam's tires and ruin his battery so Alanna can't get away afterwards.

Alanna grows into her powers, Evette grows more paranoid and passive aggressive. Constantly pestering Alanna that this was a test of the devil. Alanna talks to her about how much she's been hurt by her and for her to confront who hurt her before she loses her daughter. Alanna continues prepping for prom with Talia and her mother's help instead. Alanna gives her mother one more chance to be happy or show support to her daughter. Evette blows it (They are all gonna laugh at you!)

Prom... Happens. Y'all know the drill. Cynthia learns about the prank, tries to get to prom in time. Susan and her dickhead BF scare her by threatening to lie to her father that she's been hooking up with Adam putting both their lives in danger. Alanna is living it up at Prom with Adam and Talia. Cynthia is able to risk it and get Talia's attention to try and earn her, however they end up getting locked out and harassed by the dickhead boyfriend's greasy ass buddies and have to lock into Adam's car for safety.

Pig Blood (or maybe motor oil and chicken feathers) happens, Adam is KNOCKED UNCONSCIOUS ( bad gash and concussion fosure) by the bucket falling, racist bs happen.

Alanna clutches Adam close as everyone hollars and taunts her. The school official barely doing anything to try and quell them or laughing along. The few other students of color use their sense of danger to either get the fuck outta there or try to help Alanna and Adam.

Alanna whispers them all to sleep. Prays for protection and calm for them.

Then. She. Screams.

I want FIRE, SCALDING SPRINKLERS, MFUKAS BEING CRUSHES SLAMMED AND CHOKED.

BLACK GIRL MUTHAFUCKIN RAGE TO RIP THEM ALL APART AND RUBBLE THE BUILDING THAT HOUSED ALL THAT HATE

Talia and Cynthia witness it all. The guys that were cornering them are fucking smite by one loud sigh coming from Alanna's mouth when she spots them. Alanna takes in the chaos and can only nod and start walking home, locking her friends into the car for safety.

Say what y'all want about 2013 Carrie, that car wreck scene? Happen exactly to Susan and Dickhead BF when they try to run Alanna over.

Alanna gets home to find Evette crying over the letters from her own mother. The phone has been shattered into pieces and Alanna breaks down and tells Evette everything.

Evette comforts Alanna, true comfort, for the first time in a decade. Bathing, dressing, cleaning and greasing Alanna's scalp as she sings delicate lullabies to her. She makes hot coca and wraps Allan up in a family quilt, reciting the story of Mary and the birth of Jesus to her in a cozy whisper.

As this happens the rescuers are only able to dig out Adam and the few others that tried to help Alanna, out the rubble whole and alive. They break Talia and Cynthia out of the car and the two girls run to Alanna's house. They are barely a block away then the earth rips open and screams. Quake after quake as a twister roars over them and heat snaps into the air, forcing them to huddle into a ditch as God gets angry.

Cars suddenly come to life and speed down the road to crash into the Hobbs' household.

7 minutes later. All is calm. Just a regular spring night, the only thing left is chaotic debris and soft wind.

All that's left of Evette within the mangled and smoldering remains of her home is her charred corpse clutching a pristine crucifix and the ribboned ends of Alanna's braids. The MD determined that the support beam tore through her chest and killed her first before the fire got to her. That the fire is what left just ash and braids of Alanna.

"Good. That Black Devil is banished back to hell." Is what the white pastors and the police chief says.

"My she burn and my child rest." Says parents that don't realize they raised nothing but viscous bullies.

"My friend is gone and I don't blame her for the mess it left behind. But...now I gotta go." Is what Talia tells Cynthia as she and her family flee the town just three days after it all.

Adam is sent to Chicago with his first broken heart.

But little do any know, about the green pickup that flew down the dirt roads, back to a lazy and quiet rural town that Alanna never got a chance to remember before.

Her Grandmother strokes her hair as she drives and tells the mute and shaking girl the story about the slave mother who would rather her baby be dead and free then living and in chains.

[contemptible-scoundrel]

I am known as the dead man, the blade in the dark, the living weapon, the mutant, the darkness of the heart, the one-eyed demon, god-stabber, the nightscourge, the darkstalker, vengeance, the viper of darkwood valley, dragonthief, the final bandit, the obsidian gaze and the eye in the dark, the priestslayer and the clericsbane, gloomdagger, flameborn, deathwalker, terror of the heavens, the bane, the dark smothering the light as evening breaks, the poisoned chalice, elf ear licker, the blademaster, the soulless one, the holy man's lament, the wretch, death's shadow, the grim omen, foul dweller, the deadly gambit, shadow-heart, death-dealer, the hidden blade, jane doe, herald of desolation, the bloody fable, the piercing sorrow, the swamp-shade, strider, hero's folly, the contemptible scoundrel, night's edge, the viper's sting, el cazador, giantslayer, fate-stealer, soul-render, hope's end, avatar of despair, the wraith, ghostblade, 死, nightfall, the phantom, the last resort, bloodthirst, unquenchable fury, rogue warrior, the heartless one, the leaden soul, the martyr of darkness, unholy fury, blackguard, breaker of vows, spiritbreaker, the nightmare, killer, the enemy of all living things, snakeblood, the immutable truth, the light's bane, the vengeful revenant, depraved fool, the killing machine, the beast of bones, brutal operator, the bug man, the shadow spectre, glintblade, bloodseeker, the merchant's scourge, the blight of man, knifegleam, nightfear, virtuous thief, the blood butcherer, ironeye,

the duchy of milq'drauz bestowed me with the left cleave of god, death's lament, blade of ill-omen, she who stalks the night, the veil between what is and what must never be,