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m2ok · 3 months

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Golden Salvation Pt.2

pt. 1

cowboy!Ghost x m! reader

A/N: There will be one more part to this just to wrap everything up :)

Your pulse thundered in your ears as the stranger loomed closer, hand gripping lethal iron at his hip. Fight or flight instincts kicked into overdrive - this was no ordinary burglary; you could see it etched in every predatory line of his body.

This man had come for blood, your blood.

Slowly, you raised your hands in a gesture of peace even as your mind raced. One wrong move and you’d be pushing up daisies come morn. These were the dark shadows Simon lived in, the enemies he’d made through his notorious work. And now they were coming for him...through you.

.“Don’t want no trouble, mister,” you said, keeping your tone calm and even like you didn't know why this man was here. As if there could be any other reason for someone to break into a home as dingy as your own. “Just a simple bartender is all – barely got a dollar to my name”

This snake didn't need to know how deep your bond with Simon went, especially since hiding your relationship was the only way you could see to get out of this situation.

The man cackled at your words, rolling his eyes as the smile dropped and he stalked closer to the bed, aiming the gun at you as he cocked it back with a sickening crack.

“ Mhm... as if you weren't all nice and cozied up to him not mere hours ago – ya really think im gonna believe you?” He gave you a mocking grin

“No no im not stupid sweetheart. Im not here to collect any of his debts from you – I care more about the eight men o’ mine your Ghostie killed. Those boys were my family, he didnt think twice about that though when he shot em’ dead where they stood. Figure I should make him feel the same hurt I do, hm?”

“You won’t hurt him none-” You tried to reason “His heart don't belong to me, he won’t spare a second glance past this cabin. Hell, He's probably halfway across the desert by now” Your voice was shaky as you spoke, lies seeping through your lips at the risk of your life. You knew what you meant to Simon, no one else was able to get into his space as you did- at least not if they wanted to walk away with their life.

The man's smirk dropped, new anger burning in his eyes as the grip on his gun tightened, “I saw the way that mongrel looked at you, you’re his boy and that's clearer than any mountain river” he scoffed, finger moving from the side of the gun to rest on the trigger.

You closed your eyes, praying in your head, but not to any god. No, your prayers were aiming for Simon's rescue, praying that he would somehow know you were in trouble and come rescue you from it.

Simon sat astride his horse on a dusty ridge, watching the moon rise silver over the desert wastes. A half-smoked cigarette dangled idly from his lips; he’d been nursing the same thoughts over and over since dusk fell heavy as a shroud across the badlands.

Thoughts of you.

Somewhere deep in his gut, an uneasy feeling roiled. Like an invisible string tugging at his soul, trying to tug him back the way he came. Simon growled low in his throat, frustrated with his own foolish longings. You’d made your stance clear – this life wasn’t for you, not truly. And he had no right to ask you to join him.

And yet...

A crack suddenly split the still night air. So faint and far that any lesser man may have missed it entirely, but not Simon.

In an instant he was vaulting onto his horse’s back, boots pounding twin paths in the dirt as they flew towards the distant lights of your little town. Another shot rang out, louder now, and Simon’s blood turned to ice in his veins.

He knew that sound – deep in his bones he knew something was horribly wrong.

Choking the reins in a near stranglehold, Simon rode as if all the demons of hell were nipping at his horse’s hooves. Towards you. Towards salvation or damnation, he did not know. But by God, no son of a bitch was gonna harm one hair on your head if he could still help it.

Help was coming- you just had to hold on.

The man fired the gun, a sharp sting hitting your side before it blossomed into agonizing pain. You let out a pained cry, one hand instinctively going to land on your wound while the other covered your mouth to muffle your sobs. Your hand was soon coated in dark crimson, entire body shaking with adrenaline as the man cocked the gun once more.

“Was gonna just end you, but I figured I should make this painful the same way he did. Should fill you with so many bullets he won’t be able to recognize you” he hissed, aiming the gun at your other side.

Simon was little more than a blur of dust and primal fury as he crashed through the remains of your splintered front door. For a split second, time seemed to freeze – taking in the scene with a single, piercing gaze.

You,curled onto the bed clutching a bloody wound. And him. That snake. Gun pressed sickeningly against your body as he spewed his venomous threats. With an almost guttural roar, Simon’s Colt leapt into his hand like it was part of his very being. Two blooming shots rang as one; his aim was true as bible scripture.

The intruder pitched backwards, scarlets blossoms exploding from where his eyes once were. He was dead before he hit the floor.

But Simon saw none of it. Already he was at your side, tatty serape ripped and pressed desperately against your weeping injury. Brown eyes wild and scared met your own, and for a moment the steely outlaw facade slipped entirely.

“Darlin’...” he choked, voice thick. “Talk to me, baby. Stay with me now, ya hear?” Working frantically to stem the flood, Simon tangled scarred fingers gently through your hair, anchoring you to this world with his touch alone.

“That’s it…keep breathin’, just keep breathin’” His voice dissolved into ragged prayers mere ghosts could hear. Help was still minutes away - but for now, you had Ghost. And he’d be damned before he let the reaper take you from him.

You were sobbing, your brain mangled with confusion and fear as the adrenaline ran out and the full pain of the bullet lodged in your abdomen had you reeling,

Red painted everything around you, hands, clothes, and sheets underneath you drenched in it.

“Simon-” you rasped, breathing labored as you looked around with wide eyes at the gruesome scene in front of you. It was too much, you could feel your head going light- brain fuzzy and ears ringing as you fought not to close your eyes.

“It hurts” you choked, trying to shove his hand away from where he was pressing down on the wound to stop the torrent of blood flowing out. “Simon I cant-” you said, throat raw from the sobs that came out.

You wanted so badly to stay with him, to be able to wake up tomorrow with him, but you didn’t know if you’d get that with the way you felt your strength leave your body.

“It hurts- it hurts” You were almost begging, for what you didn’t know. You just wanted the pain to go away.

You were terrified- not ready to die yet, and especially not like this, not when you had so much left to do. The thought alone sent a new set of tears streaming down your face, hand shaking- clutching the bleeding wound on top of Simon’s own to try and ebb the pain that burrowed deep in your skin.

Simon felt his world crumbling as your agonized crimes tore through him, sharper than any bullet ever could. Seeing you in such anguish ripped open a fissure in his battered heart, letting the demons of his deepest guilt and self-loathing spill forth in a torrent.

“I know, baby, I know it hurts…” he choked, pressing you close as if trying in vain to absorb your pain into himself. His own broad shoulders shook with ghosts of rage and grief, tears cutting rivulets through the dirt caked on his cheeks.

Goddamn it all, he should’ve been here. Should have followed his instincts and never left your side. Now it may be too late to hope for forgiveness, your blood staining his hands a brand of failure he could never outrun.

“Please, darlin’, please hold on…’ Simon begged, voice breaking as he spoke. His bandana was wrung out and useless now - in desperation he moved to cradle you fully, applying trembling pressure with his bare hands and what remained of his coat.

Distantly he heard the clatter of the approaching horses, but paid them no heed. You were fading, slipping away before his eyes, and all the strength and guns in the world couldn’t stop it.

“Don’t ye leave me now…I can’t do this world without ya…” A broken whisper, barely audible above the thunder in his ears. Simon pressed his forehead to yours, sharing the same ragged breaths, two souls more tangled than any root or vine. Hanging on a blade’s edge against the dark.

You stared up into Simon's eyes, eyebrows cinched in pain and eyes soaked with fear.

“I don’t wanna die, Simon” you whispered, voice shaky as you clung to him - like he alone could save you from this fate.

You could feel your heartbeat slowing, breathing ragged as you gasped for air that just wouldn’t enter your lungs….

Soon enough the doctor burst into the room, medical kit in hand as he came barreling over to you. He very carefully took you out of Simon’s arm with some convincing, to lay you back on the bed before he opened up his kit.

He handed you a flask filled with whiskey “You’re gonna want to drink this - it’ll help ease the pain” He said.

With shaky hands you drank the bottle, a scream ripping from your lungs as the man began to carefully dig into the wound, grabbing hold of the bullet with sterile tweezers before carefully pulling it free.

With practiced care he cleaned the wound, a harsh whimper leaving your lips at the sting of pain before the wound was stitched up and bandaged.

You were shaking, sobbing so hard your throat was raw and your lungs burned - the pain was unbearable and a large part of you wished you could just die to get away from it.

The doctor had you drink another flask, the alcohol numbing the pain receptors in your brain just enough to allow you to fall into a light sleep.

Simon sat vigil at your bedside through what felt like hours, not letting go of your limp hand once. Your cries of pain echoing loud and endlessly in his mind, driving spikes of pure anguish deep into his soul.

He watched in heavy silence as the doctor worked, breath caught tight in his chest, hardly daring to hope. But then - your ragged breaths evened out, color returning sluggishly to waxen cheeks. Alive. You were alive.

It was nearly two hours later when the man was done, wiping his hands on a rag as he stood up on shaky legs.

“He’s stable” The doctor said simply

Choking back sobs of relief, Simon buried his face in the crook of your neck, leaving a trail of gratitude-laced kisses amongst salty tears. “That’s it, darlin’...you fight. Got too much left to do in this world.” he’d whisper to you, voice so soft only you could hear

“Most important thing now is cleaning that wound twice a day lest it get infected. If it does…” The doctor ordered, his words trialing off though his intentions were clear. He put down a set of bandages and cleaning solution on the nightstand for Simon’s use.

“It’ll take a long time to heal, I reckon” The doctor said “but my work is done here, y’all know where to reach me should he take a turn for the worst” He said, tilting his hat to Simon before he gathered his tools and headed out of the shabby cabin.

Simon took the doctor's words as gospel, nodding along to every word before the man left. He spent the next few hours cleaning up the mess that was now your little home. He dragged the body out back to deal with fully in the morning, cleaned your sheets and changed you into new clothes, boarded up the broken window, and finished by fixing the door that he had come barging through.

His own hands were gentle as churches doing their appointed duty, cleansing and dressing the angry wound each time without fail. Whatever it took to coax your stubborn spirit back to the land of the living.

Days bled into each other without notice. All that mattered to him now was you. And slowly, so slowly - full color seeped back, fever broke its hold. Eyes fluttered open to meet his own once more, full of pain but oh-so-blessedly alive.

“Hey there, sunshine…” Simon whispered hoarsely, like a parched man dying of thirst at an oasis. Finally, finally, he allowed himself the ghost of a weary smile.

You were going to be alright. And by God, he’d spend his last days making sure of it.

You slowly sat up, a soft whine leaving your lips with the movements as you aggravated the still raw wound. “Simon” you mumbled as you held his hand, reaching over to take a swig of the whiskey on the nightstand to ease the searing pain.

You rested your head back against the pillows with a soft sigh. It had been a few days now, and the pain was still a dull yet constant ache in your side.

You took the sight around you in, everything was clean and neat including your bedding and clothes. Even the floor had been mopped, the only reminders of your near death being the hole in your side.

“Simon you did all this?” You asked simply, eyes wide as you gazed up at him.

Simon huffed a soft, weary laugh at your question, gently squeezing your hand just to make sure you were really here and he wasn’t hallucinating.

“Course I did, darlin’. Weren’t about to let ya recover in filth,” He replied gruffly. Truth be told, tending to your every need had been the other thing keeping his demons at bay these long days and nights.

Keeping busy spared him time to think - and thinking led down paths too bleak to tread. Like how terrifyingly close he’d come to losing you forever.

Holding your gaze with quiet intent, Simon softly brushed calloused knuckles along your cheek “Reckon it’s about time i started pullin’ my weight ‘round here proper. Ain’t no safe place for ya out here alone” A question lingered in the subtle quirk of his brow, the hopeful yet wary gleam in tired eyes. After all that had passed between you both, was there still room for him at your side? A Ghost finally ready to lay his soul to rest, if you’d have him.

You could only hum softly at his words, sleep still filled in your bones. You didn’t answer him, instead you patted the empty side of the bed “Come sleep next to me, Si. You need the sleep” You said, your words a silent confirmation that you still wanted him.

Simon gave a soft grunt of approval, too weary in body and soul to do anything but obey your gentle prompting. Careful not to jostle your healing injury, he stretched his long limbs out beside you with a satisfied sigh.

It felt strange but right, sharing your space in such an intimate way after so long living apart. Like the final piece of a puzzle slipped neatly into place.

Turning his head, Simon watched you watch him through half-lidded eyes, drinking in every beloved feature as if to confirm this wasn’t some whiskey-fueled dream. Reaching out, he lightly touched the graceful curve of your cheek before letting his hand come to rest against the steady rise and fall of your chest.

“Sweetest sound there is,” he murmured, voice sleep-roughed and thick with meaning. A tousled head tucked itself beneath your chin with a contented sigh, tension seeping from tense muscles.

Come what may with the light of dawn, for now all was peaceful. You were alive, you were safe. And against all odds, Simon had finally come home to roost.

You held him close in your arms, gentle fingers carding through thick hair as you let his head rest against your now steady heartbeat. He needed the comfort, you could tell, and you were more than happy to give it to him.

“Rest now, Si. I'm not going anywhere. Can’t get rid of me that easy” You assured, pressing a gentle kiss to his forehead.

It was a funny thing, holding such a toughened man in your arms, keeping him close and coddled despite the almost laughable size difference.

SImon made a low sound of gratitude at your soft reassurance, melting bonelessly into your gentle embrace. Your gentle fingers winding through his hair brought forth a wave of lethargy he’d fought to stave off this long week past. But no more - here in your arms, he was finally allowed to let his guard down.

It still struck him sometimes how two souls so disparate could fit together so seamlessly. But you’d always had a way of easing even his most ragged edges, soothing demons he thought long beyond taming. Lithe as you were in your current state, your strength ran deeper than any show of force ever could - and he found solace there like nowhere else.

“Missed this…” he mumbled, so soft it was barely audible even in the stillness enclosing your little world. One arm curled protectively around your middle, thumb brushing idle patterns against the slowly healing wound beneath the bandages.

A prayer of thanks on parched lips, Simon let weary eyes slide shut. Sleep rose like a gentle tide, carrying him off to oblivion sheltered in the piece of heaven he’d begun to call home. You’d brought him back from the brink of darkness once more, anchor in the storm. And for that, he was eternally grateful.

#cod modern warfare #cod x reader #cod fanfic #cod imagine #cod x male reader #male reader #fanfic #ghost cod #ghost x male reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x male reader #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon riley x male reader

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dailyadventureprompts · 4 months

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Dungeon: To Split the Mountain Wide

Renowned for it's beauty and magical reactivity, Thaliasite is a valuable mineral said to spring up where the tears of a sky goddess soak into the earth. When deposits are found, they're quickly mined to exhaustion.

Taking a gamble on of one of these near abandoned claims, a somewhat reckless alchemist has attempted to promote the growth of new crystal through an experimental process involving the channelling of elemental energies and a bit of bastardized geomancy which miraculously resulted in the growth of new crystals and the reopening of the mine.

Some weeks later however and it appears the process has worked too well as the slow initial recovery has given way to explosive new growth; splitting the mountain wide open and trapping several crews of workers in the depths of the mine. The party has been called in after rescue attempts were halted by rogue elementals, as well as attacks by grell from the nearby wastes drawn in by the arcane energies.

Adventure Hooks:

Need a quick starter for a badlands campaign? Have the party be made up of miners/locals from the nearby settlement who's livelihood depends on the reopened mine. No better team building exercise then rescuing innocents from a magically and structurally unstable cave system liable to cave in/explode at any moment.

This literal explosion of valuable material is going to have far reaching consequences, turning the little mining village into a boomtown over the next few months. This will bring all kinds of fortuneseekers, outlaws, and wandering mages out of the woodwork, to say nothing of the more otherworldly entities that will blow in on the wind.

While you could chalk the disaster up to the usual unreliability of alchemical experimentation, a party that digs around a little deeper and keeps a wary eye out may discover a conspiracy by the mineral combine that once owned the depleted mine. The ability to produce Thaliasite could be an economic gamechanger, and the combine is not above engineering a little accident if it means not only reclaiming their former property but also buying out the disgraced alchemist's formulas. If the party finds them out, the combine might just be willing to cut them in for a percentage, maybe make them overseers in their newly revitalized enterprise.

One of the miners the party ends up rescuing is a woman half conscious after getting caught in the shrapnel from the Thaliasite's explosive growth. After some weeks of recovery she rises from her sickbed and begins after asking the party. Apparently having shards of divinely attuned crystal stuck in her greymatter has gotten her in touch with the goddess, who uses her impromptu oracle to tell the party of a trial awaiting them in the near future.

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#press start #disaster #desert #dungeon #cave #mine #dungeon desert #alchemy #yithini #badlands #dnd #dungeons and dragons #d&d #ttprg #pathfinder

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felassan · 6 months

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EA site update:

"The Dread Wolf Rises Dragon Age Day 2023 Happy DA Day to our friends across Thedas!"

"[Mark] Dragon Age has always been a franchise about characters. Characters to fall in love with or to learn to loath. Those characters need a place in which to live, to fight, and to love—a place that shapes them and the events they find themselves swept up in. Today we explore the place they call home that forms the stage for everything that you do: Thedas. Corinne and the Dragon Age: Dreadwolf team have created a game that celebrates the rich and varied past of the franchise while crafting new experiences and stories. It has been incredible to come back to BioWare and see all of the progress they’ve made, and I’m excited for some of that world to be shared with all of you today. [Corinne] Thank you, Mark! I fondly remember playing each entry in the Dragon Age franchise, being completely immersed and enamored in the world you all had built. It amazes me to be here now, working alongside you and the team, to bring new stories and characters (not to mention a few returning characters) to all of the fans of the franchise. Dragon Age: Dreadwolf is the product of hard work and love. We know how much this world means to all of you, how these experiences stay with you. We want to get it right, so we’ve taken our time. We're so excited to join in this celebration of all things Dragon Age and the incredible fandom that surrounds it. Within the dev team, we’ve been eagerly awaiting Dragon Age Day as the enthusiasm, stories, charity, and artwork you share motivates us to be our best and create new experiences for all of you. To celebrate DA Day, we’re sharing a look at a few of the in-game locations you’ll explore on this new adventure (and perhaps a little more for those who listen closely). The stage is set. The Dread Wolf is ready to make his move. Oh, and one last thing before I go… In summer 2024, we’ll be fully revealing Dragon Age: Dreadwolf to you! We honestly can’t wait. See you all in Thedas, — Corinne Busche, Game Director & Mark Darrah, Sr Production Advisor"

"You’ve visited the lands of Thedas thrice before in our games and many more times in comics, books, art, and short stories. This time, you’ll be venturing to places unseen and returning to places from long ago. To celebrate Dragon Age Day, we wanted to show you some of those sights. [link to new trailer] We stand on the precipice of change. This is a world brimming with stories and characters waiting to meet you. The fate of this world teeters on the edge of a knife. In past games, you only got to see a slice of the world. In Origins, it was Ferelden—a land ravaged by war and Dark Spawn. In II, it was Kirkwall and its locales—festering with corruption and a dark underworld. And in Inquisition, you ventured across much of Orlais—facing down political intrigue as often as combat."

"This time, however, much more of Thedas is yours to see. The desolate, beautiful badlands of the Anderfels with curtains of distant mountainous spires. The twisting canals and gleaming towers of Antiva, where Crows may lurk in any shadow. The turquoise seas of Rivain with its rushes of greenery and hardy sea-faring people. And of course, there’s more."

"We felt this was best for the tale we wanted to tell this time and we hope you enjoy it as much as we have! It’s allowed us to create many more locations than past games, including both some you’ve longed to go to…and some you’ve never heard of before!"

"To help capture the wonders of Thedas, we partnered with three wonderful artists from our exceptionally talented community and gave them an early look at what you’ve now seen. We’ve always been so fortunate to have such an incredibly skilled community of artists, and getting to work with these three was a true joy! We asked each of them to create a vista of one of the three regions in the video based on their interpretation of it in their own unique styles. Please enjoy their wonderful work, and be sure to send them some love when you check out their personal channels for more of their art!" [link to art]

"Turning our focus to your closest kitchen, if you’re looking for a fun gift this holiday season or want to try some Thedosian dishes yourself, we’ve got you covered with Dragon Age: The Official Cookbook: Tastes of Thedas from our partners, Insight Editions! This project was lovingly crafted by the author, Jessie Hasset, as well as members of our team who have an affinity for the kitchen and a love of cuisine."

"The cookbook features recipes suited to all skill levels, but we know that jumping in may be a daunting task for some. To help you out, we’ve partnered with MisoHungrie, a wonderful YouTuber who specializes in cooking, with a particular knack for video game and entertainment-related dishes. If you’re looking for a place to start on your culinary journey, check out his video and follow along. And be sure to let us know what you think of these Thedosian delights! In addition to this, there are two giveaways you should keep an eye out for! For the first, our friends over at Insight Editions are giving away five copies of the cookbook on their social channels, so be sure to check them out. And it doesn’t end there. For those of you who decide to try your hand at making a culinary delight from the book (including one of the ones we’ve released separately), be sure to follow our own Dragon Age social channels for the second giveaway. Keep an eye out for the opportunity to submit your creation for a chance to win a BioWare Gear Store package, including the brand-new Morrigan romance bundle! Details on that giveaway will be posted next week."

"As we mentioned earlier this year, we’ve partnered with Dark Horse to create a digital package of all their comics for Dragon Age and Mass Effect on Humble Bundle. Visit the Humble Bundle page to find out how our partners are working to support Child’s Play, an organization that seeks to make the lives of children in hospitals more comfortable through the enjoyment of games. There’s no better time than the holidays to bring a smile to someone’s face. BioWare is also supporting a few local charities this month that focus on helping the most vulnerable in our communities via food banks. This includes the Edmonton Food Bank, the Greater Vancouver Food Bank, Les Banques alimentaires au Québec, and the Central Texas Food Bank. All of them provide food to thousands of people each month and rely on kindhearted donations and volunteers. If you’re wanting to give back this holiday season, please consider supporting Child’s Play or donating to your local food banks. Many communities also accept non-monetary donations of canned, dried, and packaged goods, clothing, and other useful supplies. However you choose to support those in need, know that every bit helps and can make a big difference in someone’s life, whether they’re in your community or around the world."

"An insult that he took as a badge of pride. An insult to inspire hope in his friends and fear in his enemies. That is what Fen’Harel, the Dread Wolf, truly is. Not a man who sees himself as evil, but someone who believes he’s fighting for a good cause and is willing to get his hands dirty. This long-awaited chapter of Dragon Age is fast approaching—the time close at hand. We’ll see you next summer with answers to your questions, including ones you have yet to ask. With that will come our full reveal including new trailers, gameplay, and—of course—the long-awaited release date. The Dread Wolf will rise once more and we’ll have much more to share with you as we approach Summer 2024. Please keep an eye on our social channels for all the latest information on Dragon Age: Dreadwolf’s reveal and beyond. Know this, though: The Dread Wolf has not been idle these past years. His reach is far, and soon his plans will come to fruition—a cataclysmic rejoining of magic and realms hundreds of years in the making. Will you be able to stop him? We hope so. Always believing in you, — The Dragon Age Team"

[source and full post]

#dragon age: dreadwolf #dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #dragon age #bioware #solas #long post #longpost #video games #morrigan #queen of my heart #post fixed sry ^^

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artificial-transmutations · 6 months

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Utopia

The sun was beaming down mercilessly on Trax as he climbed up the dusty rocks of the badlands. It didn't help much that his clothing was torn to rugs after the long journey or that his hands were calloused from the countless hours of climbing and shoving rocks and dirt. Still, the muscular and rugged man did not stop and climbed on, determined to reach the top of the hill. He didn't have too much choice. His water canteen was almost empty, only holding enough liquid for another half a day of hiking.

Trax stopped for a moment to wipe his brow and dry his hands on the very few scraps of clothing that were left from his shirt. Trax tried to control his breathing. His friends would surely have called him crazy, going into the badlands like this: Without preparation, without equipment and alone. Perhaps one or two of them would even have insisted on coming with him, to make sure he wasn't just throwing his life away. His friends really were awesome guys, Trax thought before correcting himself. No, that wasn't right. His friends had been awesome guys. Past tense. Another twinge of sadness darkened Trax' already bad mood. Truth be told, if his friends would still be around, he wouldn't even have considered taking on this crazy journey. But that was in the past. When the raiders on their bikes and trucks attacked Trax' settlement, many of the men, including every damn single one of his friends had been massacred. It had been a blood bath and Trax had only survived because he was out at the time, scavenging the industrial ruins nearby for supplies.

Having been born after the calamity and the subsequent wars, Trax knew fair well that surviving in the central European wasteland was difficult under the best circumstances. Having been heavily decimated by raiders, however, with most of the men dead it was nearly impossible. Most women and children had decided to leave, hoping to find a new place to settle or perhaps to find another settlement, where they might have a chance at a normal life. Not so Trax. Pretty much everyone had heard the story of Utopia. Utopia, the city of legends. Utopia, the safe haven. Grasping at straws, he set out for the badlands, in search of the mythical place.

Sighing, Trax got back to climbing, scaling the rest of the hill a bit more energetic now. After another half an hour, he finally reached the top of the hill, only to be rewarded with a wide view over a valley between the barren mountains. More importantly, though, Trax could hardly believe his eyes. Taking most of the space of the valley was a glass dome surrounded by a massive concrete and metal wall. Under the pristine glass that was reflecting the sunlight like a jewel, Trax could see a city. Not any city, mind you! Trax could see the green of trees and bushes between the high-rising spires, and the glittering of running water. He was able to make out some slight movement under the dome, probably from vehicles or even flying cars, and the air itself had a clean shimmer, almost like he imagined it when he heard the stories as a child.

Trax was mesmerized by the view, but at the same time, he didn't quite believe what he was seeing. He had really done it. He had reached the city of Utopia!

As fast as he could without breaking his legs, Trax scrambled down the hill and towards the impressive fortification. With each step, another thought became more and more prevalent. He had been so focused on finding the city that he had not yet thought of how to get in. From what he knew from the stories, Utopia had been a project of corporations and remnants of governments alike. A safe haven in the post-apocalyptic hellscape the continent had become. Of course, even though there were considerably less people than before the calamity, a single city would never be enough to house all survivors. So, the corporations chose a simple, yet proven concept of controlling who could get in: You had to pay for entry. It was ridiculously expensive, an amount of money Trax could not possibly earn in a hundred lifetimes. Enough to buy a bunch of settlements the size Trax' old home was. Of course, in the settlements, slums really, money didn't have too much meaning anymore. It was used for trading with other settlements, but apart from that, the concept of wealth had mainly meaning in the remains of the big cities. Even there, only a very elite few had been able to buy themselves entry into Utopia.

And now that *he* was here, standing in front of the massive concrete walls, it seemed like a stupid idea anyway. Who was he, a nobody, a mere scavenger, to try and demand entry to the city of dreams?

Well, he had to try. The gate in the concrete wall was massive. At least 20 meters tall and made of sturdy metal. Nobody was there, no guard or anyone really, which was not too surprising: Trax could hardly imagine anyone wanting to stand guard here, in the middle of nowhere, in the searing heat. Inside the huge gate was a smaller door, made from the same sturdy metal, with a computer console next to it. When Trax stepped closer, the terminal lit up. Trax was able to read, a skill that was sometimes necessary when scavenging the industrial ruins. However, he didn't have too much practice, so it took him a moment to decipher the three words on the surprisingly clean display: "Enter Entry Ticket".

Trax cursed. There was nothing else to be read, and even if there were, he would not have had any clue as to what he was supposed to do. He banged his fist against the door, and the sound reverberated off the nearby hills. However, there was no answer. Apparently, the entry in the city was fully automated and without an expensive ticket, there was no way to get in. Climbing up the concrete walls was pretty much impossible, and even if he managed to, he would only stand in front of the mighty glass dome.

Defeated, Trax slumped against the wall. It didn't make sense. He had made it all this way, had seen the city, had touched the very walls and yet, the city was still not within reach.

That's when he noticed another path, almost invisible under layers of dust and dirt. The main gate was well maintained and cleaned, but this path, going along the wall, had clearly not been used in decades. Perhaps there was still a chance to get into the city after all.

Trax followed the path for a few dozen meters before he noticed a faded writing on the concrete. The yellow paint was huge but aged and showed an arrow to the left. Under the arrow, Trax could read the words: "Lottery Winners, This Way".

Lottery winners. Something stirred in Trax' memory. Lottery. Yes, he remembered that part of the story. Of course, after announcing that only the richest of the rich were granted access to the city of dreams, there had been an outrage. Following that, and to soothe the masses, there had been a huge lottery where one thousand souls from all over the country were able to win a place in the city. It was said that whoever won the lottery left for Utopia and never came back - understandably so.

Apparently, the way he was following now was meant for the lottery winners. Trax felt a twinge of hope. Perhaps there was yet another way of getting into the city. It was a faint chance, but it was a chance.

Trax followed the path that was winding around the big walls until it ended in an archway that led down into the foundation of the concrete structure. It was a gaping black hole in the light concrete, but, and that was both surprising and like a miracle to Trax, not barred by a door.

He carefully entered the archway and waited for his vision to adopt to his now darker surroundings. There was enough sunlight coming in through the entry to discern that he was now standing in a long, concrete corridor, tilted a little bit downwards. Trax could vividly imagine a thousand people standing in queue in the broad corridor, but now his steps echoed from the blank wall. After a little while, electric lights flickered to live as he was nearing a fork in the corridor. It split into two, left and right, where the left was adorned with a black figure wearing a skirt, while the right one showed a similar figure wearing pants. The universal signs for male and female, as they were found on old restrooms as well. Without thinking too much about it, Trax turned right and went down the "male" path. After only a few more steps, he passed a heavy metal door, which stood widely into a medium sized room.

The room wasn't well maintained, but it was clear that this was a part of the technological marvels that kept the city running. It was crammed with pipes and cables, tubes and huge towers of technology that Trax couldn't really place. However, everything in here seemed dormant. There were no blinking lights, no beeping sounds or sound of liquids running through the pipes. Dormant, with one exception. In the center of the room, there stood a huge block of machinery, with two notable features. The first was a large screen at about eye level that was dark. The second thing was a hole in the block with a diameter of about 5-6 centimeters in diameter 80 centimeters above the ground, surrounded by a blue plastic ring. This ring was lit by some internal light source and was blinking slowly, as if it was breathing. Curiously, Trax stepped closer.

As he approached the block, two things happened at once. With a faint whirring sound, the machinery in front of him came alive and the display lit up. At the same time, a loud bang sounded from the entrance and the heavy door slammed shut, closing Trax in.

Trax could feel panic rising up but fought it down again quickly. Whatever was happening here was just standard procedure for the lottery winners. There was probably nothing to worry about. Instead, he looked at the screen. In big white flickering letters on green background, it read:

"Welcome Lottery Winner! Please enjoy yourself!"

Trax couldn't make sense of the message, so he took another look around the room. There was another, considerably larger door on the other side of the room, but it was closed shut as well, with no discernable way of opening it. While the room was crammed with technology, the only active thing Trax could see was the central block with the hole and the screen. "Please enjoy yourself!". What was that supposed to mean?

Trax cocked his head and took another long look at the block. The only other notable feature was the hole surrounded by the blue ring, about one leg length from the ground. Trax squatted down and took a closer look at it. The blue ring was still blinking, the hole itself was dark. When Trax looked into it, he could only see blackness. Carefully, he felt it with his finger and was surprised to find a smooth malleable surface that quickly warmed to the touch, not unlike silicon. When he extended his index finger deeper into the hole, he could feel the walls of the hole suddenly starting to move in a slow, wave-like motion.

Trax quickly withdrew his finger and the motion stopped. He cocked his head again. That surely couldn't be right. "Please enjoy yourself!". It couldn't possibly mean...

On the other hand, there were a lot of indicators. The hole in the block was at exactly the right height and had the right diameter. The message could very well be interpreted that way. This was a room designated for male lottery winners. And the doors closed, allowing for some privacy. Trax shook his head. This was crazy. What possible reason could there be that the designers of the city wanted the lottery winners to... jerk off before entering the city?

On the other hand, perhaps it wasn't even too stupid. Getting your rocks off, possibly after a long journey would help the newcomers to relax and see things calmer and more rational. It was unusual, sure, but possibly not a bad idea.

"Enjoy yourself!" the message still read.

"Fine!" Trax said. "If that's what you want, let's do this!"

He undid his belt, pulled his torn trousers and even more threadbare underwear down, and grabbed his soft dick. With a few quick strokes, he got it first half-hard, and then, when he was rigid enough, he directed his cock to the waiting hole. It wasn't too difficult to get hard to be honest. Trax hadn't had time to jerk off since the attack on his settlement, and now that he was finally safe and relaxed, he was able to unwind a little bit. He could feel his blood rushing down, and his dick got stiffer and harder, until the head of his dick was throbbing and ready to enter the tight hole.

Trax was panting and gasping as he shoved his dick forward, penetrating the warm, slick tunnel. He couldn't believe how good this felt. The hole was so soft and malleable and so very tight! Immediately, the movements started again, and Trax moaned with delight as his dick was surrounded by waves of pulsing, squeezing pressure. His cock was swallowed whole and pressed on the tight tube as if it wanted to milk his dick. Trax gasped again. There was absolutely no doubt that this device was meant for exactly this purpose. He stepped even closer to the block, until his shaft was buried in the masturbation aid to the hilt. Slowly, he pulled his dick back, feeling every inch of the wet, warm and tight sleeve until the head was resting against the entrance. Then, with a grunt, he shoved it back, making the machine squeal and his body shudder with the intense sensation.

This time, there was another whirring sound inside the machine, and the hole became a lot tighter as a strong suction became active around his cock.

"Fuuuuck..." Trax groaned. His legs were shaking as his shaft was being sucked on with incredible strength. This was so much better than jerking off! He tried to pull back to thrust his cock back in with force but found himself unable to. The suction was so strong that it just didn't allow any movement of his dick. So, all he could do was to stand there, trembling as the machine was milking his cock. He used both his hands to grab onto the machine block in order not to be too overwhelmed. Trax was so enthralled by the experience that he didn't notice the technology in the room turned itself on one by one. Before long, Trax was surrounded by whirring, squealing and clicking noises from all directions.

However, Trax did notice when both of his wrist where suddenly grabbed by cold metal grabs and jerked apart until his arms were forcefully extended left and right of his body. He tried to pull free, but the machine held him firmly. A second later, a metal strap shot out of the block, and forced his legs apart until his whole body was spread-eagled. Then, with a clang, the two straps were bolted to the floor.

Trax was unable to move, except for his hips, which were still being pleasured by the amazingly tight machine sleeve. Was this some kind of intruder detection? Still, the machine pleasuring his cock felt incredible and hadn't it been for the sudden attack of the machinery, he would already be close to cumming. Right now, however, Trax was looking left and right to the strong metal arms holding his wrists in place in increasing confusion and panic.

Then, something new happened. Accompanied by a mechanical whirr, Trax felt a prodding sensation at his exposed ass. Then, without much more of a warning, a silicon replica of a large cock rammed itself into his ass. Trax had secretly always fantasized about being intimate with another man, and, more importantly, to be fucked by another man, but he didn't expect to experience this sensation for the first time here, in all places. He didn't even have the chance to prepare himself, to stretch himself open. The cock, that was clearly made out of the same material as the masturbation aid, was thick and hard and the sudden penetration took his breath away and made him moan both from pain, surprise and pleasure.

The dildo was moving back and forth in a rhythmic pace, slowly, but with a steady mechanical strength. Despite the helpless situation, Trax felt he was in, the combined sensations were too much to bear. With a cry, he came, hard, into the machine, injecting spurt after spurt of his cum into the mechanism.

At the same time, he felt the dildo in his ass release a thick liquid into his intestines as well, leading to a strangely full feeling in his behind.

Trax' faint hope that now the machine would surely release him, however, quickly vanished. After his dick had spent the last drops of his load into the machine, the machine began to move alongside his dick again, the movements now accompanied by the slick feeling of his own sperm in the device. A moment later, the rhythmic fucking of his ass began anew. There was one change to before, though: The screen in front of him no longer showed the "Enjoy yourself" message but instead flickered with lightning fast strings of zeros and ones, each one displaying for little more than a millisecond.

Trax felt the strangest sensation as the dildo continued to fuck his ass. The semen, or whatever the machine was pumping into his bowels, was now acting as a lubricant and his ass was being fucked in the most pleasant way. At the same time, he felt a tingling sensation all over his body. He watched in amazement as all the little dark hairs on his body one after another fell to the ground like specks of dust. Trax had barely time to notice, though, as another grab from behind fixated his head to the screen in front of him.

Still, the strange sensation didn't stop there. Trax couldn't see it because he was unable to turn his head now, but he could almost feel his skin turning an unnatural gray - no, silver color. At the same time, his skin became harder and colder.

Trax groaned as his body suddenly expanded. He had been a fit, lean man, but now, his body changed so quickly it was almost like magic, accompanied by a churning feeling from within him. Again, he came, and again, more thick liquid was deposited into him as well, just as his bod became more and more bulky.

Trax' head was swimming. Somehow, the strings of binary numbers almost made sense to him. It was clear that something was planted into his brain, but he couldn't make sense of what exactly it was. However, there was one thing he could make sense of.

Trax had to serve Utopia. The thought appeared so quickly and so forcefully Trax couldn't help but say it out loud: "Serve... Utopia". What was going on?

He didn't have time to think about it further as his body expanded even more. His cock was still being squeezed and the dildo was still fucking him, and his muscles were burning from the constant strain, but the tingling sensation had not yet stopped. The skin on his arms and legs split open at the joints now. Around the parts that didn't need to move, cold and rigid metal plates formed now, while the joints were becoming flexible plastic. Trax could almost *feel* his bones become metal and his muscles being replaced by powerful servo motors. His chest had barreled out and the skin became a large metal casing. Inside, a whirring and clacking noise took place, before several valves formed at the side of his torso, leading to an internal oil tank.

Trax was acutely aware of all of that, but he couldn't react to it. His eyes were glued to the screen and with every passing number, Trax felt his own will being pushed away, replaced by a cold calculating logic, primed at a single motive.

"Serve Utopia", Trax said again and this time, his voice sounded different, almost artificial. The old Trax was still there of course - even as his head turned into the cold metal skull and his face was replaced by a red visor containing his sensory equipment, Trax original personality was perfectly preserved. He just couldn't help it. He had lost all control over his body, his voice and even his thoughts. He was being converted and there was nothing he could do. One last spurt of cum, the last remains of his human nature left his cock just before it turned into a set of tubes and electric connectors. The connector in his rear port deposited a last portion of nanobots and withdrew from the port after that. With that, the restraints holding his arms and legs released him at once. Unlike his flesh body from before however, Trax' new metal body didn't slump in on itself but stood unmoved due to its strong internal structure.

Trax wanted to turn around, to run away, but his body wouldn't obey his commands. Instead, another clear, pristine thought formed in his mind. "Connecting", Trax said in his new, mechanical voice.

Then, all of a sudden, his mind exploded and expanded. He was now *connected* to the city, to Utopia. Even more so, he was becoming a *part* of Utopia, one mechanical drone to serve the wealthy inhabitants of the city.

"Receiving new designation.... TRX-1001".

TRX-1001 quietly observed as the doors to the room sprung open. It withdrew its frontal groin connector from the conversion unit and stomped towards its assigned maintenance task.

As TRX-1001 entered the city of Utopia, Trax, who was still inside, was overcome by mixed feelings. He had really done it. He had reached the city of dreams. He had even become somewhat immortal, but at what cost. He had been reduced to little more than a subroutine in one of the thousand and one autonomous drones serving the city, toiling away day after day.

#male transformation #inanimate transformation

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bumblingbabooshka · 3 months

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Voyager should have had an episode where the command trio beat the absolute hell out of each other while blaming each other for being stuck in the delta quadrant as the fever pitch of a rising tension that was building throughout the episode. Like, they're absolutely being pushed to do it by some outside force. Maybe it's a telepathic being - maybe it's that they're stuck in some arena or an alien court or a time loop only the three of them are aware of - no matter the specifics, the sentiment behind their words has to be true and it has to be something they've been keeping back for months, maybe years. That fear and hatred and blame that doesn't really have an actual target because it's not actually rational but 'who's to blame' doesn't have to be capital T true to feel true. If Chakotay hadn't been in the badlands, If Janeway hadn't made that choice, If Tuvok hadn't supported it... "You trapped us here. It's your fault. If you hadn't-! If you hadn't-! If you hadn't-!" are just echoes of "I trapped us here. It's my fault. If I hadn't-! If I hadn't-! If I hadn't-!" Because at the end of the day more than being angry or hateful they're despairing in their own ways. Episode probably has a somber end - they beat whatever it was and it's a victory! They won by working together even after they beat each other half to death! But after the celebration we see them alone in their quarters...silent. Gazing out at the stars, into a candle's flame, at that same family picture before turning away. Because even though they won they're still there in the delta quadrant. Is that really victory?

#fake star trek voyager episodes my beloved #the thought of a time loop wherein the three of them are at times aware of the loop and at times aren't but it's ONLY the three of them is #a separate but interesting thought I had while writing this...#of course the looped time would be 'Caretaker'#st voy #star trek voyager #Chakotay/Janeway/Tuvok #Chakotay #Kathryn Janeway #Tuvok #and yes I think people undervalue the fact that Tuvok agreed with Janeway when she made that decision in 'caretaker' too much #idk enough about the chakotay buzz to know whether or not they also do this with how Chakotay also co-signs the decision once it's made #instead of fighting back against it which he very much COULD have done #I just think the complicated 3 way uneven guilt is more interesting than 'Janeway did it it was 100% her alone'#I love seeing characters devolve...even a starfleet captain and a vulcan can be driven to wrestling in the mud they think they're so above #and maybe it's 'the worst version of themselves' but maybe it's also a release - a relief you just can't get from talking

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mint-yooxgi · 1 year

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{4} - Paradise Gardens - Yandere!Demonic Entities!Ateez X Reader

Yandere AU & Demon AU - Book Two to Hotel California

Genre: Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Slight Humor

Pairing: Ateez X Reader (Focus on Seonghwa, Yunho, & Yeosang)

Words: 9,390

Warnings: Petty jealousy, nasty comments and name calling, slut shaming (not done by any of the guys). Minor violence, blood mentioned and the use of it to smear against someones's back in a show of dominance, unconventional cleaning of wounds. The later half of this chapter isn't edited, so please excuse any weird mistakes. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

A/n: Here it is!!! The next part!!! I'm very excited for this chapter, and the following ones to come. I have a feeling a lot of people are going to enjoy the next one a lot *wink, wink* hehehe, anyways, as always feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy~

Also, gentle reminder that I don’t do tag lists.

Mini Masterlist - Part One - Part Two - Part Three

A vast expanse of red and golden rocks stretches on before you as soon as you transport to the harpy’s nest. The badlands are dry, raising at odd peaks which round out above your head as the sun shines in a cloudless sky. You can practically see the heat rising off of the stones as you shift your gaze, three males surrounding you.

“Their nest lies beneath the ground,” Yunho explains. “We just need to await their messenger.”

You nod your understanding. “I know this is way off, but I am so tempted to make a joke about hunting for dinosaur bones right now.”

“The only carcasses you’ll find here are from last weeks' hunts.” A feminine voice sounds from between the hoodoos. “I apologize for Riza making you wait to be seen. You should have been invited to appear inside.”

The woman is beautiful, there’s no doubt about it as she steps into your line of sight. Her skin is a pale blue, a stark contrast to the red hue of the stones surrounding her. Feathers line her arms, bright red in colour to match her hair which falls nearly to her waist. Her arms are crossed, and on the tips of her fingers, you can just make out the faintest outline of claws.

“Wow.” You cannot help the breath that escapes you in awe.

The smile she sends your way is polite, albeit apologetic, and you notice short, pointy teeth lining the inside of her gums. It appears as if there are two rows on top, the front slightly shorter than the back, and only one row on the bottom.

“These three know me, but allow me to introduce myself now,” she addresses you fully. “My name is Rita, the youngest of the harpy sisters. It’s nice to finally meet you.”

She inclines her head in your direction, blinking at you lightly with dark brown eyes.

“It’s nice to meet you, too.” You incline your head back, introducing yourself as well.

She smiles. “If the four of you would follow me, we can get this meeting underway. My sisters are waiting for us inside.”

Immediately, she begins to lead you all deep into the heart of the badlands, beginning to descend into an opening with crystals lighting the way. You notice she hardly spares a glance in Seonghwa’s direction, and his shoulders seem to relax the more time passes without her making a comment his way.

You hum lowly to yourself, noticing Yeosang quirk a brow in your direction subtly. A second later and you’re leaning slightly into Seonghwa. “I understand.”

It’s slight, but his breath catches in his throat, a nervous smile being sent your way.

The deeper into the tunnel you descend, the more you notice other harpies peeking their heads out to look at you. All of them seem to have that same pale blue skin that glimmers beneath the light of the crystals, along with vibrantly coloured hair and wings. Some have their feathers lining their arms, while others have large wings which protrude from their backs. There are even some with more bird-like features, including beaks and plumage around their necks and eyes, highlighting their sharp gazes and pointed teeth.

“They’re just in the main chamber,” Rita says, leading you through a separate hallway once the path diverges. “I honestly don’t know why they insisted to wait inside. We literally could have taken all of five minutes to come to an agreement, but you know my sisters. Always have a flare for the dramatics.”

You can’t see her face, but you bet more than anything she’s just rolled her eyes.

“My apologies for that,” she mumbles, a slight sigh escaping her lips.

Reaching the end of the hall, Rita pushes open a large set of double doors. Stepping through, she doesn’t bother to close them as more harpies begin to fill out the grand hall where you see three thrones near the front. Two thrones are currently occupied by a female each whom both seem to be chatting with a third person, but harpy they are not. At least, not with the way their hair seems to slither and hiss with every movement they make.

“Rika! Riza! Will you act like the leaders you are and greet our guests?” Rita clicks her tongue, shaking her head in clear annoyance.

The two harpies sitting on their own respective thrones straighten slightly. The one on the middle throne immediately locks on to Seonghwa, a sultry pull of her lips upwards as she sits forwards. Her bright green wings twitch in excitement behind her, hands grasping the arms of her chair for support. Her dark brown hair, almost black, falls to her shoulders, and she’s quick to brush some strands out of her eyes.

The other, with deep purple feathers trailing down the skin of her arms looks you all over, a curt nod being sent your way in greeting before she’s turning back to the gorgon in front of her. She has bright orange hair, cropped short to her head and styled in every direction messily, but it suits her well.

“Oh,” the one on the middle throne seems to flick her gaze over to you for the briefest of moments, nothing but a look of disinterest crossing her features, “you’re here.”

“Nice to meet you,” the other one gives a tight smile in your direction. “I’m Rika, the middle sister, and this is Riza. The eldest. You’ve met Rita already, but we’re the harpy sisters.”

“Thank you for hosting us today.” You incline your head, introducing yourself quickly afterwards.

Riza snorts, rolling her eyes quite pointedly as she leans back in her seat. “Save the diplomacy, we all know why you’re here.”

Yeosang’s eyebrow twitches, Yunho exhaling a low breath as he crosses his arms over his chest. Seonghwa goes to take a step forward, but your hand on his shoulder stops him. A movement of which you notice causes Riza’s eyes to narrow where your skin makes contact with his.

“Always such a warm welcome with you.” Seonghwa huffs, not bothering to hide his irritation.

“For you?” Riza leans forward, that sultry smirk pulling onto her lips once more. “Always.”

You cannot prevent the way your eyebrows raise in response, eyes widening slightly as you blink in disbelief.

“I apologize for my sisters,” Rita directs her comment at you, another sigh escaping her as she shakes her head. “They aren’t usually like this.”

“This is the coldest greeting we’ve ever gotten from you.” Yeosang observes, tone cool and calculating as his gaze flicks over the two sisters still sitting on the thrones before you all.

Your brow quirks, gaze darting between the three sisters before you.

“Bring better company next time.” Rika shrugs, turning her attention back to the gorgon before her.

Yunho takes a deep breath to steady his building rage, but at one small brush from you against his mind, he manages to calm himself enough to stay where he is.

“Didn’t realize this meeting was for an approval committee.” You deadpan, shrugging cooly in the next second. “Not that your opinion of me matters all that much.”

“You seem to regard yourself highly.” Riza huffs, clearly unimpressed.

“I’m not one to waste my time bragging to someone who hasn’t learned the difference between incompetence and imbecile.” You shrug, and you hear Rita snort out a laugh from your left. “You’re a leader, aren’t you? Learn some respect before you demand it.”

“Oh, I like you!” Rita points at you eagerly, noticing her eldest sister practically fuming in her seat.

“Well, so far, you’re my favourite.” You turn to her, grin tugging at the corner of your lips. “You must be the head sister. You’re certainly the most mature out of the three of you.”

You notice both Riza’s and Rika’s feathers flare in irritation.

“I’m glad someone’s noticed,” Rita grins right back, back straightening as she stands a bit prouder than before. You swear a pleased coo escapes her, too.

“Oh, shut up, Rita,” Rika rolls her eyes. “You literally fall to your knees for the first person who praises you.”

You turn to Rita, brow quirking playfully. “Praise is rather flattering when it’s earned, juxtaposed to an air of preeminence.”

“Not our fault it’s a great ego boost.” Rita crosses her arms over her chest, shaking her head quite sassily at her sisters.

“You’re agreeing with the human who just insulted us?” Riza scoffs, crossing her arms over her chest as she leans back in her throne.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d say she’s sulking. You particularly don’t appreciate the way her gaze keeps flicking over to Seonghwa, hoping for both his acceptance and support.

“Don’t dish out what you can’t dish in.” You shrug casually. “I really don’t have time for petty jealousy.”

“Me, jealous of you?” Riza replies, incredulously. “As if!”

You lean slightly into Yeosang’s side. “How old did you say they were again?”

“What does our age have to do with anything?” Rika frowns, staring down at you from her throne.

“You two are acting like young human teenagers.” You shrug, somewhat nonchalantly. “I thought I left that shit back in high school.”

“You’re really going to let her talk to us like that?” Riza shifts her gaze between the three males beside you, purposely leaving Seonghwa for last so she can stare at him with mock hurt in her eyes the longest. “Do I mean nothing to you?”

The way your breath catches in your throat does not go unnoticed by any of them. You stiffen, and it’s Yeosang who places a comforting hand onto your lower back.

Rika smirks.

“We’ve already dealt with the jealous ex, we don’t need another.” Seonghwa states, rather bluntly as his scrutinizing gaze trails over Riza’s figure. “Not that you could even be considered an ex. We were never together.”

“Yet, you kept coming back for more.” The way she smirks is nothing short of malicious, especially when she turns to look down her nose at you.

You bite your tongue to keep the retort you have building within you from escaping your lips. Only, it’s as if your void has slipped, and Seonghwa has read your mind.

“But am I with you now?” He quirks a brow, a clear look of skepticism on his face.

“You could be.” She hums, a sultry look pulling onto her features as she practically spreads herself out on her throne for him. Almost as if she’s trying to entice him in every and any way she can.

You cannot hide your appall as you blink up at her in disbelief. Your lips part slightly as your eyebrows raise, your head tilting the slightest bit to the side.

The entire room is silent, both Rita, Rika, and the gorgon looking between both you and Riza periodically. It’s as if they are waiting for a bomb to drop, noticing the way the three males practically shake in rage beside you.

“Oh, sweetie,” you shake your head, tutting all the while. “Desperation isn’t a good look on you. Frankly, it’s embarrassing. You’re the eldest of the harpy sisters? Really? I’ve met dogs with more manners than you.”

“Did you just call me a fucking bitch?” She stands from her seat so quickly, you swear it almost topples to the ground as her feathers ruffle.

“If the shoe fits.” You shrug, nonchalantly.

“You come into my home-“

“You insulted her first, Riza.” Rita cuts in, stepping in before her sister can swoop down upon you from her position atop her throne. “Not everyone is going to put up with your shit.”

“It’s about time someone put you in your place.” Rika chuckles, standing from her own throne and descending the steps to stand before you. “I think we got off on the wrong foot. I apologize for my sister’s eccentric behaviour.”

“Older sisters,” you huff out an amused breath, lips quirking at the corners. “Am I right?”

“Literally, you could not be more correct.” Rita nods along with your words, quite enthusiastically.

“Hey!” Rika shifts to ruffle her younger sister’s hair. “It’s not like you’re a pile of daisies, either!”

“Don’t we have things to discuss?” Riza calls, irritation clear on her face as she glides down from her throne to join the two of her sisters standing before you.

“We do.” Yunho replies, quite sharply. There’s no hiding the irritation on his face, that all too familiar darkness swirling within as he glares at Riza for the moment.

“I see Sudaem has already arrived.” Yeosang shoots a pointed look towards the gorgon still standing off to the side.

“Unlike some, she’s actually welcome here.” Riza replies, somewhat pointedly in your direction.

The three males don’t even attempt to suppress their growls any longer. If Riza is going to throw all sense of diplomacy out of the window, then so are they.

“Riza.” Rita hisses, smacking her sister harshly on her arm.

“Sudaem is our friend, and also the current leader of the gorgons.” Rika informs you, a light smile pulling at her features - her way of easing the sudden tension between all of you.

You notice the gorgon tilt her head in your direction when she senses your gaze on her. You bow back, a small, polite smile gracing your own features.

“She was worried Jongho was going to be attending the meeting.” Rita says, causing your eyebrow to quirk at the almost dreamy way she speaks his name. “He scalped their last leader.”

“Yeah, cause she tried to assassinate us.” Seonghwa retorts, his entire body tense as he stands beside you with his arms crossed over his chest.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Riza inching closer to him.

“Talk shit, get hit.” You blink, turning back to the three sisters in front of you.

“Oh, I really like you.” Rita grins, her fangs on full display.

“You’re nothing special.” Riza mumbles, now being the sister standing the closest to Seonghwa.

Faintly, you register the side of her wing brush against his arm.

Irritation flashes in his eyes as he steps away, shifting closer to you for the moment.

This time, you don’t even react when the eldest sister says this, turning back to face Sudaem.

“You’re still contemplating whether to join the alliance, right?” Once she nods, you continue. “Then, join us. We’ve got a lot to discuss. This affects you as much as them right now.”

“I thought we were already in agreement to join you?” Rita frowns, looking between her older sisters for the moment.

“After the way this one,” Riza jerks her chin in your direction, “has treated me, I’m having second thoughts.”

“Riza, can it.” Rika shoots her sister a sharp look. “No one wants to listen to you whine.”

The eldest harpy huffs in response, a subtle pout tugging at her lips. Again, she shifts closer to Seonghwa, almost as if she’s hoping he’ll comfort her.

Her wing brushes tenderly against his shoulder, and this time, he shoots her a dark look. He eyes her figure pointedly, disgust pulling at his features. “Don’t touch me.”

Riza clearly looks taken aback by the malice in his tone. Enough so, that she retracts her wing. For now.

“So, this alliance,” Rika begins once Sudaem has joined the seven of you. “You mentioned we’d be going up against Malik, and the sorcerer Dimitri?”

“Yes.” Yunho confirms with a nod. “Miyeon convinced Malik to stage that coup twenty years ago, and now we’re seeing all the uprisings her little rebellion cause has started. They’re determined to make a ‘New World’ for all. Dimitri has simply been caught in the crossfire: he’s suffering under mental manipulation from her, even after her death.”

“You mean you haven’t freed him, yet?” Riza quirks a skeptical brow in his direction, clearly unimpressed.

The way Yunho purses his lips does not go unnoticed by you. You frown.

“You’re weaker than I remember.” She hums, beginning to pick at her nails.

“Don’t you dare speak down to him.” Your brow is furrowed, eyes blazing with a building rage.

You can handle insults being thrown your way just fine, but the moment something is said against someone you love, you have a little bit more of a difficult time controlling yourself. You have half the mind to tell Yunho to fuck with her own mind right now, but you’re not that petty. Yet.

“Riza, he could tear you apart in an instant if he wanted to.” Rita reminds her eldest sister.

“We’ll just call San to do it.” Yeosang shrugs, noticing how all three of the sisters seem to stiffen slightly in fear.

“I’ll believe it when I see it.” Riza feigns confidence, scoffing in disbelief.

Again, she attempts to move closer to Seonghwa.

A blink and you’ve wrapped your arm around his waist, pulling him into your side and away from her. Her arm just misses brushing his, but from the faint rumble you can feel emanate from his chest, you know that he’s far too caught up in the feeling of you holding him against you to notice.

Seonghwa practically melts into your touch, immediately wrapping his own arm around your waist as Yeosang removes his hand from your lower back for the moment. The eldest can feel his heart pounding in his chest, a certain pride swirling within as your actions wash over him. You wanted to protect him.

Perhaps his fantasies are coming true. Maybe, just maybe, you are jealous.

Riza scowls, but you simply raise a brow in her direction. If she wants to challenge you, and disregard Seonghwa’s own boundaries, you are more than happy to remind her of her place.

“You said they have an army?” Rika draws your attention back to her as she asks this.

“Dimitri’s sorcerers and hunters for one. Plus, all of the demons that have pledged their loyalty to Miyeon and Malik’s cause.” Seonghwa replies, briefly filling them in on all of their other allies, too.

“Damn sirens.” Sudaem scowls, her hair hissing along with her. “Greedy bastards. Never content with just one thing.”

“No wonder Miyeon propositioned them with an alliance, then.” You huff dryly, shaking your head.

“Did she ever try to attack you herself?” Rita asks, meeting your gaze curiously.

Your lips purse, shoulders tensing slightly. A fact which you know the harpy beside Seonghwa notices.

“Multiple times.” You say, steeling your features for the moment as you attempt to keep your voice from shaking. “She succeeded once.”

“I’m so sorry,” Rita’s expression drops, worry taking over her features as she notices how tense the three males become beside you. “The few times I had the displeasure of meeting her were rough. I can only imagine what she was like with a personal vendetta against you.”

“No one deserves that.” Rika agrees, concern shining in her eyes as she notices you swallow thickly.

“Thank you, I appreciate that.” You tilt your head in acknowledgement to their words, your lips quirking upwards slightly despite the smile being tight.

Riza seems to hum in disappointment beside you, and you notice Yeosang’s hands twitch at his side.

“Our magic should be more than enough to combat the sorcerers.” Rita continues, looking directly at you as she says this. “After all, their spells don’t work against us.”

“They don’t?” There’s clear wonder in your voice, eyes lighting up as you meet her gaze.

“You mean you didn’t tell her about us?” Riza huffs, crossing her arms over her chest.

“You weren’t important enough to mention.” Seonghwa states, rather bluntly as his sharp eyes dart beside him.

Her jaw clenches, clearly irritated by his response.

Rika chuckles. “To answer your question: yes. We can’t cast any spells of our own, but we have magic flowing through our blood all the same. Witches and warlocks do not affect us in any way, unless they choose to physically attack us.”

“That’s really cool!” You say, eyes lighting up in awe. “Having your own immunity to magic must come in really handy.”

“For sure!” Rita nods enthusiastically along with your words. “It’s like having a built in forcefield around us at all times.”

“Do you feel it if a spell gets deflected off of you, or is it undetectable when magic is used against you?” You ask, that curious gleam ever so prominent in your eyes.

A look which three males know all too well, and despite the irritation they feel towards a certain sister, they all cannot help the way fond smiles begin to pull at their lips while looking at you. It’s nice to know that you’re still curious about their world, and that you want to know more about the different creatures that reside within them. They would tell you themselves, but what better way to learn than from that species themselves?

“Sometimes we feel it, and other times we don’t.” Rika answers, a smile pulling at her features as she sees you turn your bright gaze towards her. “It depends on the level of the spell, the intricacy in it’s casting, and the power of the wielder.”

“Though, only those with casting magic in their veins can perform spells.” Rita adds. “If there’s no trace, the spell won’t work.”

“A caster doesn’t even need to have any training for a spell to work for them.” Sudaem chimes in. “Though, it depends on how much stored magic said castor has. If it’s a high level spell, like summoning or inflicting damage on an opponent, then they have to come from a strong line of casters.”

You blink, as if realizing something. Subtly, your grip tightens around Seonghwa’s waist.

“Sorry, can we just pause for a second.” You raise your free hand in the air. “You just said that a caster can performs spells properly without knowing as long as they have powerful magic stored within them?”

Riza rolls her eyes, mumbling how you need better comprehension skills. You ignore her, as do the others for now.

“Yes.” Sudaem nods, meeting your gaze. “That is correct.”

“So, say someone read from a ‘book of spells’,” you put those words in air quotes for the moment, “for fun, but it actually worked. That means that person has casting magic lineage?”

Realization crosses the three male’s faces, eyes going wide at what this means.

“Most likely.” Rika confirms with a blink.

“Why? Do you know someone who is unaware they can cast spells?” Rita’s brow furrows, head tilting in curiosity at you.

You look between the three males surrounding you, amusement dancing in your gaze. “My best friend is a witch, and none of you bothered to tell me.”

“Your best friend?” Sudaem’s brow furrows slightly. “Did she summon them or something?”

“You could say that.” You reply, amusement dancing in your eyes.

“Summoned, how?” She presses, tilting her head slightly in curiosity. “Physically?”

“No, not physically.” Seonghwa answers for you. “It was only through a mirror at first.”

A snort of laughter is heard from off to your left. “Weak ass witch could only summon you through mirrors?”

Again, you ignore her, but that doesn’t stop your brow from twitching in irritation.

“Do you remember the name of the tome you used?” Sudaem meets your gaze.

“Uh…” you grimace slightly. “No, I do not. My apologies.”

“There’s only two clans of casters that are powerful enough to summon the Eight Kings.” Rita shifts her gaze between all four of you standing before her. “What’s your friend’s clan name?”

“Clan name?” Your brow furrows before realization crosses your features. “Oh, her last name is Ciervo.”

A brief look is shared between Sudaem, Rita, and Rika. Even the three males seem surprised by this revelation, for you’ve never spoken your best friend’s last name in front of them before.

“Has she ever discussed her magic abilities with you?” Rika turns back to face you, running a hand through her hair and causing the spikes to stick up in new directions.

“I didn’t even know she had them.” You reply, somewhat in awe as you blink.

“You didn’t know your best friend is apart of one of the most powerful caster clans in the realm?” Sudaem frowns slightly, nothing but a meek curiosity in her gaze.

“I don’t think even she is aware of it.” You exhale a low breath. A second later, you meet Sudaem’s gaze. “How do you know so much about casters?”

“Subject of interest.” She shrugs lightheartedly, a bashful chuckle escaping her shortly afterwards as she smiles.

“Our dear Sudaem here has been attempting to impress the head of the Sintra clan for years.” Rita affectionately wraps an arm around the gorgon’s shoulders, shaking her lightly.

“Yeah, but it doesn’t seem to be working.” The gorgon grumbles, looking down at her feet.

“Their loss, then.” You hum, and you notice her head whip up to look in your direction.

“You think so?” She meets your gaze, a sort of hidden hope shining behind her eyes.

“Anyone who puts in that amount of dedication to learn something about the person they like is definitely worthy of praise in my books.” You smile at her, nodding your head all the while. “Don’t waste your time on someone who sounds like they don’t deserve your energy. You’re better than that. You deserve better than that.”

She averts her gaze somewhat bashfully, only causing your heart to warm.

“If you have anymore questions, just let me know.” Sudaem mumbles, her hair swaying softly around her as the serpents coo affectionately.

“Oh, boy! Do I ever!” You immediately perk up, and loving chuckles are falling from Yunho’s, Yeosang’s, and Seonghwa’s lips. “Though, I don’t want any of my questions to come across as rude, or potentially ignorant.”

“Go for it,” Rika shrugs, straightening out her shirt for the moment. “If what you’ve said about them not telling you shit about us is true, you must be curious.”

“You honestly have no idea,” you breathe, meeting her gaze.

“Then, ask away!” Rita encourages you with a soft smile.

“Okay, this might be really ignorant of me,” you turn to face Sudaem once more, “but isn’t your gaze supposed to be able to turn people to stone?”

The one corner of her lips quirks upwards. “It does.”

Your eyes widen in awe, but before you can ask, she continues.

“We have a second set of lids that cover our eyes like a film. We can retract them at any time to allow our cold gaze to freeze anyone we see fit.” She explains. “It’s clear, so you don’t notice it, but if you know what to look for, you’ll be able to tell when it’s there.”

“That’s so cool!” Your lips part, a pure look of wonder on your features as you gaze at her. “I’m still wrapping my head around learning that all of these incredible species I’ve long since believed to be mythological are real. It’s incredible, and I’m honoured to be in your presence.”

Again, you incline your head in their direction, and you notice the smiles stretching wider on Rita’s, Rika’s, and Sudaem’s faces. Hell, even the corner of Riza’s lips twitch upwards.

“You should have seen her when she met the dragons.” Seonghwa hums, nothing but pure affection dripping from both his tone and gaze as he shifts to look at you.

“Apparently, she left quite the impression. The babies imprinted on her.” Yunho adds, pride clear in the way he stands a little straighter.

“We heard Wyno gave you her blessing.” Sudaem comments, her own eyes lighting up in awe. “That’s incredible!”

This time, it’s your turn for your cheeks to warm. Averting your gaze to the floor, you mumble out a ‘thank you’.

“It’s been over one hundred years since the alpha of the dragons has granted anyone her blessing.” Rika comments, clearly impressed. “You must both be extremely special, and have done something incredibly selfless to earn that bond.”

“She did.” Seonghwa confirms, a hint of roughness to his voice.

You squeeze him tighter.

“She is.” Yeosang adds, his loving gaze turning to focus on you as you briefly meet his own.

The smile you share is nothing short of tender, and you faintly hear some soft cooing coming from around the room. Your audience seems to be able to pick up the amount of love you have between you and Your Kings, and even Sudaem, and The Three Sisters all have to admit that your bonds are obvious.

Riza’s expression falls.

“I have been allowed to thrive thanks to them, and I wouldn’t trade that for the world.” You admit, heart swelling in your chest at your own words. You speak nothing but the truth, and every person in that chamber can tell.

Three content hums from Your Kings greet your ears, each of them taking the time to brush tenderly against your void.

Sudaem smiles. “Do you have any more questions for me?”

You turn back to her, eyes lighting up with that familiar spark of curiosity. “Do I ever!”

Her whole demeanour perks up. Ever her serpents hiss excitedly.

“So, with the dual lids, do they change your eye colour at all?” You ask.

“Slightly.” Sudaem confirms. “Our natural eye colour is slate toned, but the lid makes them lighter. Would you like to see? I can’t show you my true eyes, lest you be turned to stone, but I can show you a half comparison.”

“If you’re okay with that!” You nod eagerly.

A few steps and she’s in front of you. The way her serpents slither to rest behind her shoulders to make you more comfortable as she gets closer warms your heart. Slowly, she leans in, and you watch her eyes as a clear film begins to shift over the one pupil. It raises about halfway before stopping, and you can see the bottom half of her iris is a slight shade darker than the top half.

“Wow.” Your lips part in awe, blinking a few times as you both lean away from each other once more. “That’s incredible!”

“Thank you.” Sudaem returns to her original spot, clasping her hands bashfully over the front of her body.

“Oh,” Rita teasingly wraps her arm around the gorgon’s shoulders, shaking her lightly, “someone’s getting shy.”

“Shut up.” Sudaem mumbles, her hands beginning to fiddle with each other, a faint smile tugging at her lips.

“Aw, our little Sudaemie is gonna develop another crush,” Rika joins in on the teasing, moving over to poke the aforementioned female’s cheek affectionately. “How will I ever survive my love leaving me for yet another?”

The way you see the serpents on her head begin to playfully nip at Rika’s finger has you laughing. You can just tell how close friends they all are.

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice Riza remaining oddly quiet for the moment. Her own gaze is calculating, never once leaving Seonghwa’s profile as she studies him from head to toe. The way your hand still rests comfortably on his hip has her pursing her lips.

“You three remind me of Reina and I.” You grin, failing to notice how the three males grin slightly along with you. “Teasing and all.”

“You mean you purposely continue to flirt with others despite being in a relationship?” Riza cuts in, clear malice on her features as she feigns shock. “Kings need someone loyal to them, not an ugly whore who spreads her legs for the first thing that gives her attention.”

Both Yeosang and Seonghwa nearly lunge at her right then and there. Only, your hand raising in front of all of them prevents either male from doing so.

“You certainly have a lot of pride for someone attempting to be a home wrecker.” You reply, somewhat bluntly. “You clearly have your own personal vendetta against me, and I’ve already dealt with someone much worse than you. You’re about as intimidating to me as a chicken.” You sigh, shaking your head before pretending to think about it. “Actually, no. At least chickens are intimidating.”

Rita bursts into laughter almost immediately after the words are out of your mouth, slapping her eldest sister playfully on her arm. Even Rika has a difficult time muffling her laughter, while Sudaem can barely contain her own.

“If all you’re going to do is stand there and insult me, I’d really rather you get it all out of your system now.” You motion her towards you, clearly unimpressed by her. “I’m sure the King you’re trying to impress will love you threatening His Queen, seeing as it worked out so well for the last one.”

Her wings flare out in irritation behind her, scowl pulling at her features.

“At least I’m not some weak, pathetic mortal who needs saving every ten minutes.” Riza spits, taking a threatening step towards you.

Only, you perceive it as her wanting to get closer to Seonghwa again, given the way she goes to reach for him. So, you do what you feel is best: you push him behind you as you fully turn to face the harpy beside you.

“Sorry, how long have we been talking?” You tilt your head, almost mockingly at her.

If she’s going to continue to be a bitch, then you’ll gladly match her energy.

Immediately, her wings spread out behind her in attempts to intimidate you. You can see the irritation shining clear as day on her features, fingers flexing at her sides as her claws glint in the light.

The way you hear all three males growl warningly behind you lets you know that her flaring her wings like that holds some deeper significance. The next words you hear only serve to confirm that fact.

“Riza, not the wings.” Rika warns lowly as a commotion begins to stir within that chamber.

All of the other harpies present begin to whisper, their feathers ruffling as more enter to see what all the fuss is about. A few even go so far as to take off into the air, hovering around to get a better view of the action that might be about to take place.

“Don’t challenge her.” Rita adds, a hint of worry shining in her eyes as she sees the dark gazes of the three males behind you.

“No, if this wannabe Queen wants to come into our home, and insult me, then she should expect retaliation.” Riza spits, rather harshly. “I’m not going to stand here and take this disrespect.”

“Riza, you’re being a huge hypocrite right now.” Sudaem grimaces, glancing between her friend and the three Kings whose black eyes are all on full display. Her serpents hiss nervously, shifting restlessly over her head.

“Can it, Sudaem.” Riza hisses, feathers ruffling as her wings flare once more. “This is between me and her.”

“I literally never took issue with you to begin with.” Your tone is blunt, a bored sigh escaping you. “You’re the one who’s had it out for me since we walked in here. Just get it all out now, I’d really rather not have issues on the battlefield.”

“Who says we’re going to align with you?” Riza’s fingers twitch once more, snarl pulling at her lips.

“So, you’ve wasted all of our time.” You nod your understanding. “Good to know.”

“No, wait! Please!” Rita reaches out for you before stopping herself. With how tense the three males look beside you, the last thing she wants to do is actually touch you. Who knows how they might react. “We’ll align with you! We have in the past, and if the sirens have truly agreed to fight with Malik, then our friends in the gorgon territories aren’t safe!”

“You’ve had my allegiance since you mentioned that fact. Besides, I really like you.” Sudaem nods firmly in agreement. “We’ll support you in any upcoming battles.”

“Thank you. That is very much appreciated.” You smile at the three other women off to your right.

They all smile back, shoulders slightly drooping in relief as they believe this issue to be resolved. Only, you know better.

Riza still does not back down.

“Well, since we’ve now done what we came to do,” you incline your head respectfully to the two younger harpy sisters, as well as Sudaem. “We’ll take our leave now.”

“Thank you for meeting with us.” Rita bows to you, along with Rika and Sudaem. “I would extend an offer to return, but not until out eldest here learns some manners.”

Riza’s nostrils flare, “how dare you sister-“

“Can it, Riza.” Rika’s eyes narrow at the female. “Don’t shame us any further because you want to fuck her King one last time.”

The harpy purses her lips, smartly remaining quiet for the moment. From the way her wings twitch, though, you can tell she has more to say.

“We’ll be in touch,” Yeosang states, rather bluntly. “Be ready for anything.”

“We will.” Rika nods, Sudaem and Rita adding their agreement.

“I’ll walk you out.” Rita practically skips over to you, a joyful glint in her eyes as she smiles your way.

“I would enjoy that very much.” You return her expression.

Shifting back to the open doors of the chamber, you begin to make your way back out of the caves. Your right hand comes to settle on Seonghwa’s lower back, an added protection and assurance for both you and him against that piercing gaze you can feel watching your every movement.

You get all of two steps before a loud huff is heard from behind you.

“Wait.” The voice is calmer than before, but still urgent, desperate in a way.

You feel it long before you register what has actually happened. You had been expecting something like this, anyways. Considering the way Riza couldn’t resist continuously reaching out for him, you knew she would most likely try one last time.

Your hand is around her wrist before the tips of her fingers can ever graze Seonghwa’s back. There is an unbridled fury burning behind your eyes as you meet her own, shock clear on her features. With a brief look around the room, you know she’s not the only one.

“I though he told you to stop touching him.” Your voice is deadly; calm in the way a storm is before it hits.

Riza’s wings flare out behind her once more, feathers expanding to make herself appear bigger as all eyes are on the two of you. Even the males can only watch on, a certain sense of pride and smugness welling within as they observe the scene. Yet, none are as affected as Seonghwa is.

You protected him. You defended him, and made sure this damn harpy knew her place. Despite the tension and rough patches in your relationship, you chose to fight for him. A fact which sets his entire body alight, soul blazing with that all too familiar burning desire and love he always feels when he looks at you.

Nothing could have ever prepared him for this.

“Don’t touch me!” Riza seethes, ripping her wrist out of your grip and managing to catch the skin of your palm with her nails.

Blood begins to drip onto the floor of the chamber, and the three males cannot contain the threatening snarls that escape them. Long since have their eyes flashed black, immediately shifting into offensive stances as they stare down the eldest harpy before them.

Alliance be damn, she just hurt their Queen.

“Oh, so you are aware of the notion of consent.” You hum, nodding to yourself as if you’ve just learnt something astounding.

“You bitch!” She lunges.

A screech tears from her in a blinding rage, her claws extending as she reaches for your throat.

The only assurance the three males get is you calmly brushing against their minds.

In the blink of an eye, you’ve flipped the eldest harpy over your shoulder, implementing the training both San and Jongho have taught you this past week. The fact that Riza doesn’t expect you to do this works to your advantage, momentarily stunning her, and using her own momentum against her.

She flips herself onto her stomach, attempting to lift herself back to her feet. Only, she doesn’t get very far.

Riza is forced to the ground, her face in the dirt as you step on her back, right between her wings. Each of your hands grip at the plumage of her feathers harshly, the bones groaning from the strain. Subtly, you lean in to her as you press her into the ground, your blood staining her bright feathers red.

“Get off of me!” She shrieks, arms trying, and failing to push her up from the ground. Your hold on her is too strong, and besides, every time she moves around too much, you tug on her wings, pain filled cries escaping her in tandem.

“Why should I adhere to your wishes when you continuously disrespect My King’s?” You hum, feigning innocence as you tilt your head mockingly down at her. “You challenged me first. I’m simply answering the call.”

Whispers reach your ears from around the room, overhearing some of the harpies whispering about how Riza did flare her wings at you earlier. From what you can gather, the eldest harpy sister has garnered no sympathy from the crowd.

“You wanted to test my patience. Now, you have to suffer the consequences.” You spit, tugging firmly on her wings yet again as she cries out for someone, anyone to help her. “Do not touch what isn’t yours, Riza.”

You lean in closer, dragging your foot purposely down her spine as your injured hand comes to rest between her shoulder blades. Squeezing your hand into a fist, you purposely let your blood drip onto her skin, smearing between the space between her wings as a crazed look takes over your features.

“Let this serve as your reminder,” you begin, voice booming around the room as you command everyone’s attention. “I am not some weak, pathetic mortal that you can walk all over and treat however you please. If you strike me, I will strike back. If you so much as lay a finger on someone I love without their permission, it will be the last thing you ever do. I only have respect for those who respect me, and if you ever disrespect My Kings, or me, their Queen, again, I will not be so forgiving.”

Shoving yourself off of her, you step back. Making a show of it, you wipe your hands together, cracking your neck all the while.

Your eyes flash. “Do not test me again.”

A silence so still settles over that chamber as you step away from the stunned harpy on the floor. Turning back towards the two younger sisters and Sudaem, you notice them tense as your fiery gaze meets their own. Firmly, you incline your head.

“Thanks again for today.” Your voice is somewhat gruff as you step back over to your three Kings. “We’ll be in touch.”

The moment those words escape your lips, Seonghwa’s hand is on your lower back. You can feel the way he physically trembles as his fingers press into your skin, immediately transporting you home. The foyer greets you in the blink of your eyes, and you let out a long sigh.

The others appear instantly, having both heard your sigh, and smelt your blood.

“What happened?” The worry is clear on San’s features, the memory of the first time you came back from visiting the dragons flashing through all of their minds.

“Nothing.” Your reply is short, tone pointed as you swallow thickly.

Jongho takes a step closer to assess your hand.

“I’m fine.” You raise your palm to him, the cuts now on full display.

“You’re clearly not fine, My Love,” Hongjoong’s brow creases in worry as he grabs your bleeding hand in his own. A single thought prevents him from healing you for now, instead choosing to take the pain away for as long as he can. He turns to the three males standing across from them. “What happened?”

Both Yeosang and Yunho share a look between each other, the corners of their lips twitching upwards seeing as the eldest cannot form a coherent sentence. A few words later, and they’re sharing their most recent memory of you putting that damn harpy in her place from mere minutes ago.

Seonghwa’s chest heaves, breathing ragged as he cannot tear his eyes from you. Hongjoong’s arm is currently wrapped around you waist in comfort, and the elder male cannot help the way his jaw twitches in slight irritation. That should be him right now. You protected his honour, and now, all he wants to do is worship you. He wants to show you how grateful he is, and show you just how much what you did for him means to him.

More than all of that, though, he wants to pull you into his arms and tell you how you just made him feel.

The warmth flooding his veins sets his skin tingling, electricity coursing through his very soul as he continues to stare at you. His eyes are hooded, nothing but that familiar darkness swirling within his gaze for you as he attempts to control himself for the moment. The fact that you went out of your way, not once, not twice, but three times to protect him today has an ecstasy unlike ever before running through him.

All he wants to do is please you. To show his Queen how grateful her King is for her very existence.

After all, it’s what he’s always wanted. It’s what you’ve always deserved.

Your voice manages to pull him out of his thoughts, grounding him to the very reality before him.

“I’m not jealous, I’m angry.” You seethe, pacing rather pointedly back and forth. “I’m fucking angry that that chicken-“ Mingi and Wooyoung both snort in laughter at this, “had the audacity to disrespect My King’s boundaries. Multiple times.”

“How do you think we felt, listening to her insult you the whole time?” Yunho hums knowingly, Yeosang quickly agreeing with him.

“Oh, insults I can handle.” You freeze in your spot as you turn to look at him. “After the shit I went through with Miyeon, I can handle some petty comments thrown my way. But the moment, the fucking moment those comments or actions get turned on any of you?”

If you were holding onto something, you would have already thrown it at the wall in attempts to dispel some of your anger.

The eight males straighten all around you, low, pleased growls emanating from their chests.

“I doubt that chicken will do anything else to you now, Angel.” Wooyoung chuckles affectionately, stepping towards you and wrapping you in his arms. “You’ve really put her in her place.”

“Yeah, and smearing your own blood over her back where her wings protrude?” San whistles lowly. “Power move.”

“I wish I could have been there to see it first hand.” Mingi sighs, almost wistfully.

“It was certainly a pleasant sight to see.” Yunho grins, eyes shining with that fondness you’ve become so used to from him. Not only that, but the way you can see that same pride lingering within sets your heart racing inside your chest.

A look you know is mirrored on all of their faces.

“Looks like all that training is coming to fruition much sooner than we thought.” Jongho wears a smug look on his face, chest rumbling in content as his hooded gaze zeroes in on your every move.

“How did it feel, Baby?” San asks, taking a step closer to you to join Wooyoung in holding you in his arms. “How did it feel to put that bitch in her place?”

You turn to him, sparing a glance out of the corner of your eyes as you finally get your breathing under control for the moment. Gently, your hand comes up to rest on the skin of his forearm, grounding yourself as you avert your gaze to the floor.

“Amazing.” You breathe, voice barely above a whisper as you shift your gaze up to meet Seonghwa’s eyes across from you. “Like it has always been what I’m meant to be.”

“And what is that, My Love?” Hongjoong asks, an eager gleam shining within his gaze. A look which he knows is mirrored on all of his brother’s faces right now as they watch you intently, hearts beating erratically within their chests.

Your back straightens and you take a deep breath in.

“Your Queen.”

Eight pleased snarls greet you in response, Wooyoung going as far as to affectionately nuzzle his face into the side of your neck. Even San’s grip on you tightens, but you’re slipping out of their hold in the next second. Much too soon for either of the two male’s liking.

This whole time, Seonghwa has yet to stop trembling. His eyes track your every movement as you approach him, shamelessly leaning into your touch the moment you reach up to cup his cheek.

For a moment, nothing is said between you. The silence is calm, welcome as you search his face. For what, you’re not quite sure, but the way you trail your hand down to grasp his own, tugging him towards your room for the time being, Seonghwa knows that everything will be okay.

The others don’t bother to stop you, nor do they say anything as you walk passed them. Even Kuroo seems to be nowhere in sight as you shut the door gently behind the two of you.

Softly, you guide him over to your bed, sitting with him on the edge of your mattress. A blink, and your hand is back on his cheek.

“Mars,” the way you call his name, so tenderly and full of nothing but love for him as your eyes fill with concern has a shudder caressing his spine. “Are you okay?”

He leans into your touch, eyes fluttering shut as he absolutely revels in this moment here in time with you.

Still, he cannot keep himself from shaking.

“I should be the one asking you that, My Divine.” His eyes blink open, that same fond look shining through as he stares deeply into your own.

“I’m more worried about you.” You admit lowly, thumb stroking along his cheekbone as he blinks at you. “I’m sorry I let her push your boundaries so far.”

“No, My Divine,” he shakes his head, shifting all the more closer to you as he cups your own face gently in the palms of his hands. “What you did for me today, what you said, has made me so unbelievably happy. Even now, I can hardly contain myself from ravishing you on this very bed to show you just how deep my gratitude for you lies.”

You cannot deny the way your heart simply flutters from his confession, breath catching in your throat.

“The fact that you wanted to look after me, that you wanted to protect me means more to me than you’ll ever know.” He tilts your head forward slightly in order to place a gentle kiss onto your forehead. Allowing his lips to linger against your skin for as long as possible, he mumbles, “Now, let me take care of you.”

Carefully, he reaches down to grasp your injured hand in his own, pulling away the slightest bit to get a better look at the cut. He’s glad Hongjoong listened to him, allowing for him to heal you after everything that you’ve done for him today.

You didn’t even notice you were still bleeding, blinking down at the open wound. There seems to be about three small slits, the blood flow slowing, but still enough to have droplets of red swelling against your skin.

Seonghwa’s breathing deepens, intently staring down at the blood that gathers in the palm of your hand. His touch is nothing short of tender as he caresses your wrist in his hold, and from the way you can feel his finger pressing into your pulse, you have a feeling you know exactly why he’s in such a trance.

“Please, My Queen,” he’s nearly panting at this point, eyes locked intently on your hand. “May I-“ he swallows thickly, grip tightening the slightest bit on your wrist. “I promise to be gentle, just please,” his tongue darts out to wet his lips, “may I have a taste?”

Your own breath hitches in your throat, and you notice his eyes flick upwards to meet your own. You swallow thickly. “You may.”

Seonghwa’s heart positively leaps for joy in his chest, eyes flashing black as the significance of this moment washes over his very soul. The fact that you’re even allowing him to do this, and he’ll be doing so after such a monumental event that happened today, means more to him than you’ll ever know.

Slowly, and with the greatest of care, Seonghwa raises your hand slightly, leaning down all the while. Gently, his fingers hold your palm open, his tongue lightly dragging over your wounds.

The very second that your blood touches his tongue, he moans. All sense of composure is thrown to the wind as he cleans your blood from your hand, his tongue nothing more than a gentle caress over your skin.

With every drag of his tongue, those small cuts begin to heal until there is nothing left. Still, he holds you to him, laving his mouth sensually against the skin of your palm as he begins to place wet, open mouthed kisses over your hand.

Shamelessly, he moans against you, guttural groans escaping him as he begins to trail his kisses up your palm, and to your wrist. Purposely, he laves his mouth over your pulse, feeling the way it stutters beneath his lips for him and him alone.

His tongue continuously darts out to taste your skin beneath him, slowly making his way up your arm with his kisses until he can go no further. The barrier of clothing irritates him, but that does not prevent him from wrapping his one arm around you and pulling you flush into him.

A moment later, and his forehead is pressing against yours once more.

“I love you, My Queen.” He breathes, the ghost of his breath fanning over your lips and causing tingles in its wake.

“Mars-“

“Please,” his voice is desperate, and he knows this as the words escape him in no more than a whisper, “My Divine, may I kiss you?”

This time, you don’t even have to think about your answer. Hopefully, you won’t be interrupted again, either.

“Yes.”

His lips are on yours without a second thought, pulling you impossibly closer as he pours all that he is into the kiss. The way he can feel you hum against him is simply icing on the cake, and he cannot prevent the way he begins to smile against your lips.

A moment later, and he deepens it, one hand coming up to support the back of your neck as he holds you to him. The way you shift to crawl onto his lap has a pleased growl escaping him, his eyes flashing as he feels you gently push him down onto your bed.

You can taste the faintest bit of your blood lingering on his tongue, but it doesn’t bother you at all. Not when he’s holding you like this. Not when he’s kissing you like you are the very air he needs to breathe.

He groans, hands holding onto your waist tenderly as you pull away from him in order to stare down at him from your position above him. A position he has fantasized about more time than he’d care to admit.

“My Queen,” his voice is nothing more than a pleased rumble as his thumbs begin to stroke tenderly against your skin beneath your shirt. “Kiss me more.”

You smile: a simple, seductive pull of your lips upwards as you lean into him once more. He can feel the ghost of your words against the skin of his lips, and he shivers, pulling you closer, “With pleasure.”

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transdrowned · 11 months

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what if minecraft badlands, but flight rising dragons

#drownedposts #play fr btw #minecraft #flight rising #(hybridizes 2 of my interests)#update: if u see this and want one know that i am setting up a breeding pair for wasteland radio hatchery <3

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sparrowrye · 2 months

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Demi Demon || Alastor x Reader, A2 part 18

Synopsis: It’s been over a year since we were brought under Alastor’s watchful eye. We’ve unlocked our Demonic powers, discovered our own talents, and began building the Safe Haven with Charlie and co. Alastor seems increasingly interested in the power we hold as one and intends to use it properly.

Previous part

Part 18: Blackwater

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Reagan and I weren't having a great week.

Reagan was starting to get teased about Lucas by girls who weren't her friends. Even some of the boys joined in and would make passing comments. She felt further and further alienated. It grew worse, still, when one of the girls made a comment on her magiclessness and she turned it into a fight.

After the fight, I knew I needed to get her out of the haven for a break. I needed it, too, after everything with Alastor. So I took her with me to another ring fight attack.

As promise to Lucifer, I asked Charlie to stay in the haven and teleport everyone back when we were ready. I managed to convince her by telling her we needed her to explain everything to the newcomers and get them settled. She jumped on it right away.

This ring fight was a legal one. Vox's technology was growing ever bigger and broadcasting the legal ring fights became a norm. There was one stretch of land that was unclaimed by any Overlords but was frequently checked on to ensure no Humans were plotting anything. There was no order, no law, nothing but a different version of Hell on the surface. It was effectively called the Badlands.

The ring owner had put on social media that the top five winners would be released. I knew better than to believe that. So I made sure to arrive before the ring ended to save those poor five souls from being killed anyways. I kept Reagan hidden safely in the forest well away from here.

After the last ring fight, I waited for them to announce the five fighters who could be released. Instead of killing them, they were put into an enclosed vehicle and driven away from the ring and town.

I shifted into my Dragon form and hastily followed in the shadows. I ran for what felt like thirty minutes before they arrived at a dark, double storied building. Unlike most other old buildings from before the Great Collapse, this one sat in the middle of a forest. It would be extremely rare for someone to just 'come across it'. It was hard to see its exact layout since the trees blocked the moonlight. The sun was rising but it wouldn't do anything until it came above the horizon.

I teleported Reagan to me and explained what had happened. "We'll go into town as soon as I see what this is," I said.

"Do you think it's Blackwater?" she asked. She was the only one aside from myself, Husker, Charlie and Alastor to know of Blackwater and his threats. We didn't want to panic the town but I felt she deserved to know.

"At this point anything could be. Wait here, please." I melted with my shadow, Alcine, and snaked into the shadows on the inside of the building. The first floor was plain. A large fireplace burned on one side and a circle of chairs sat in the center.

Each chair held one of the fighters, a metal headband strapped tightly on to prevent them from using magic. They looked exhausted and possibly drugged.

Before I could watch further, Reagan's yell caught my attention. I sprang back to her and manifested as my Dragon form. The man fell away from her and casted a bright blue shield over himself. I had never seen such magic and resorted to staying planted over Reagan, lips pulled back in an ugly snarl.

The man laughed. "Well well well, here you are. Gotta say, that was some show with your Striker fellow." He stood up and dropped the shield, revealing himself as the man who had teleported Reagan and I into Hell that one time.

The tendrils on my neck and back stood up sharper, my claws digging into the earth as I grew more nervous at the sight of him.

"The name's Finn, in case you forgot." He stood up and brushed dirt off his tailored clothes. "What is a such a lovely woman like yourself doing all the way out here?"

"What do you intend to do with those fighters?" I growled, half using magic to speak given my current form.

"What do I—What do I~ intend to do with them?" He began to laugh and even went as far as to lean against a tree. I shifted into my Demon form and helped Reagan to her feet, eyes never once leaving him. "I do love how much credit people give me. I'm not the master mind here. I'm the one who gets shit done, excuse my language. I'm the one people can depend on."

"Then allow me to rephrase," I hissed, "what does your boss intend to do with them?"

"Well that's a question for him, not me." He held one hand up to pick at his nails. His eyes shifted to something behind me but I felt nothing. There was nothing, no presence, no magic, nothing behind me. The wind was blowing against me so I couldn't smell anything either. My ears twitched and I stretched my hearing.

I heard breathing.

I spun too late. Something heavy and sharp connected with my head. I barely remember hitting the ground. I was spinning, seemingly infinitely, and couldn't ground myself. My magic was all over the place.

Cold water splashed my face, wrenching my soul back into my body and eyes snapping open. I coughed up the water that had gotten in my lungs and pulled against restraints on my wrists.

I lifted my head to find myself in a gray, blank room. Finn held an empty bucket in his hands and moved to put it down. As he moved, he revealed another man standing behind him.

This man wore a long, dirty brown coat and a black mask over the lower half is his face. His dark brown hair was short and messy, nearly hiding the pair of short red horns. He held his hands behind his back as he walked over to me, black boots knocking on the metal floor.

I straightened up, finally realizing what position I was in. Two chains pulled my arms from a higher position while two more chain my knees to the ground. I tried to sit up as straight as I could as the man stopped a hand's length away. His red glasses glared unemotionally down at me.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Ms. Python." His hands were sitting in his pockets. "The name's Blackwater."

My jaw clenched. This was him. This was the man creating all those devices. This was the man who kidnapped two Overlords who have yet to reveal if they're alive or not.

"What do you want?" I curled my claws into fists. My magic was still gone, the metal headband successfully keeping it out of my reach.

"A test subject."

"You didn't get enough from the two Overlords you kidnapped?" I retorted.

He shrugged. "They're still proving their worth to me."

Metal clanging caught my attention and I turned to see Finn pulling out the blood sucking device that was used on Spencer. I attempted to move but the chains kept me in my kneeled position. I let out a hiss when it hooked painfully onto my forearm. He turned on the machine and it began taking blood at an alarming rate.

"Let her go!" Reagan yelled. I hadn't noticed her tied to a chair in the corner of the room. "Take mine instead!"

My vision turned fuzzy when he moved away from me to stand in front of her. "Don't touch her," I slurred.

"You don't have to worry," his voice was light and uncomfortably friendly, "I don't kill children. But I will take some of that sweet blood." He ran his fingers along her exposed arm, causing her to pull away, eyes squeezed shut.

Finn took off the machine and packed it away. Blood dripped down my arm and stained my shirt. "She's magicless," I struggled to say. The world was tilted at a funny angle and my shoulders were hurting from the position they were being held in.

"Oh?" he sounded genuinely interested. "You're a true Human?"

"What does that mean?" she asked, voice quivering. He stopped his assault and took a step back to examine her fully.

"It means your family line has stayed pure since before the Great Collapse." When she showed no obvious sign of understanding, he let out a sigh and put his hands back in his coat pockets. "Magic was not a thing before the Great Collapse. Demons were leaked into our world and brought their wretched magic with them. They started having children with Humans and generations later, everyone had Demon's blood in them. You, my dear," he stood beside her and placed a hand on her shoulder, "are a rare, pure gem. You're not infected with their blood."

Reagan's eyes snapped over to mine. All I could think was - oh no.

He reached up to his face to remove his glasses and his horns. They were fake. "I, myself, am a pure Human." My eyes widened, mouth dropping open. He was a Human. He was a defenseless Human. No wonder he had made all those inventions. "And I'm so glad to have found another one to add to our family."

"Family?" she questioned with a tone of disgust.

"I've been all around the world and collected ten pure Humans. We're going to be the foundation of the new world. A world that isn't tainted by Demons." His eyes narrowed on me.

"We're not all bad," I tried, limply pulling against the chains. My energy was taking forever to return. "We've created a safe haven for everyone. A place where both sides can live peacefully together."

"That wont last long." He waved his hand dismissively. "Demons are ruthless killers and Humans can't fathom having anyone above them. It's better to return to the way things were before the Great Collapse."

"You don't even know what that looked like. You weren't there." I made a point on his age. As a Human, he was restrained to the age period of all other Humans that lasted under 100 years. Demons could live for centuries.

"But I know enough," he turned on his heel to face me. "My family line has made sure we stay pure. I grew up with stories about the old world, about their inventions, about their trifles. I've known since I was a kid that I was born in the wrong generation."

A thought came to mind. "You hate Demons and our magic, but you're giving out inventions that allow people to use that magic."

He hummed with a smile. "You're catching on." He moved away from Reagan to stand in front of me again. I had to sit back on my heels and crane my neck to keep our line of sight. "There's Demons and Slight Humans, which outnumber you all. If I bring the Slight Humans to the same level as Demons, it's only a matter of time before they hunt your kind to extinction."

"But then you have the same problem as before. Slight Humans are just replacing the Demons."

Blackwater moved to the case next to Finn. He opened the back and pulled out a vile of my blood. He held it up to the single light for a moment. It connected in my mind before he spoke.

"They require the blood of Demons to have that power. When the Demons are gone, what's left? Just Humans with small magic."

"And what? You'll kill them off somehow? Make them turn on each other?" I retorted.

"In a way." He lowered the vile and settled his gaze on me. "But we haven't gotten there yet. The problem remains of the Overlords holding power over us. I know your kind can hide away in Hell. This plan has to be full proof."

He tossed the vile to Finn who wasn't ready. He fumbled with it before it shattered on the floor. He picked his hand up from the shattered glass and looked uncertainly to Blackwater.

I wanted to ask him why he was telling me everything. I wanted to ask what I had to do with anything, or if I was just a means for blood caught at the wrong place at the wrong time?

My questions would go unanswered though, as Finn's blood made its way to my nose. Immediately, my veins seized and my throat closed part of the way. I pulled against the chains and slammed my back into the wall. It had been two days since I last had Alastor's blood. The smell of any blood was enough to make me crave it again.

Blackwater was silent as he watched. My foot claws scraped against the floor as I tried to pull away from the smell or to free myself to take some of it. My hair was on edge and I struggled to keep my snarls quiet. They turned into horrible, pained whines through gritted teeth the longer I went. At one point I even started to drool from the lack of oxygen and aggressive seething.

"You've probably never seen her like this," he said to Reagan. I glanced through my messy hair to see her staring at me wide eyed. My shoulders dropped, if they could in their position, and I tried wiping my face on my sleeve. I tried to restrain myself, pressing my back into the wall and staring down at the floor. All my muscles were painfully tight.

Blackwater roughly pulled my chin up and smeared something across my upper lip, just below my nose. The smell of Finn's blood was suffocating. I let out a screech and pulled violently against all of the chains. I tried licking it off but I couldn't lengthen my tongue without magic. Tears streamed down the side of my face from the pain and shame.

Blackwater's laughter reached past it all. "A true Demon thirsty for blood. I expect nothing less from Alastor's soulmate." He turned to look at Reagan. "Did you know about this?" She shook her head in response, eyes never leaving my writhing form.

"Not...not all...just me...just Alastor." I spoke through the spasms and clenched teeth. I don't know how any of them hadn't broken yet from the sheer force. My breathing was getting faster, my whines louder.

"This is the person you're entrusting everything to," he went on, ignoring my response. "Demons can't help but lie. Lie and manipulate. It's why they come from Hell."

Not true. Not me. That's not who I am.

I looked up at her again, face full of pain. I couldn't speak anymore.

Please. It's me. I didn't lie. I love you. Please trust in me.

I doubled over as my body pulsed. I screeched again, long and loud. They covered their ears. Blood dripped down my arms again from pulling against the chains. My foot claws were practically filed down from trying to stand up.

Reagan let out a gasp. Everything stilled and went deathly silent as I looked up. Blackwater had cut the ropes and gently pulled her to her feet. "Come dear, let's have a civilized conversation." With a hand on her shoulder, he lead her out of the room. Finn casted a glare at me, hand wrapped in a rag, and slammed the door shut.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Author's Note:

Dun dun duuuuuuunnnnnnnn

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist:

@wendigonamecaller @saccharine-nectarine

#alastor the radio demon #alastor x reader #hazbin alastor #soulmate au #soulmates #hazbin hotel #reqs open #demi demon

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trigun-manga-overhaul · 1 year

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TRIGUN: MULTIPLE BULLETS - Scans and Translation by Team Overhaul

Here’s the first release in our Overhaul 2.0 project. With our own scans and more control over the quality, we're pleased to say that we have reached whole new levels of crisp and clean art and we hope you will all appreciate it too.

Not all the chapters in this volume have ever made it online, so those who don't own the physical copy are missing out on amazing content. So we're happy to be the first in a decade to work on this volume and give it to the fans in its entirety.

We apologize for the potential inconvenience with reading this release online, as we're still working on getting our project uploaded onto manga hosting sites.

Download the entire volume here.

Download PDFs of the chapters here. (Made by @adverbialstarlight)

Read the chapters online here:

Chapter 1: Badland’s Rumble Part 1

Chapter 2 Badland’s Rumble Part 2

Chapter 3: The Lost Plant

Chapter 4: The Denizens Of The Sand Planet

Chapter 5: Les Enfants

Chapter 6: Milly/Meryl Satellite TV

Chapter 7: Raijin: Rising

Chapter 8: Cutting Is Fighting

Extra: Trigun Badlands Rumble Cheerleaders

Donate to the Overhaul Project here!

(*)

#trigun #trigun maximum #trimax #Trigun Multiple Bullets #fan project #manga #trigun overhaul #trigun ultimate #trigun ultimate overhaul #finished chapters

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photos-of-space · 2 years

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Full moon rising over the New Mexico badlands [OC]

#space #astronomy #awesome

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jeanbie · 1 year

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EVERYTHING LOOKS DIFFERENT (NOW THAT I SEE YOU) ★ masterlist.

pairing: eren x reader

genre: royalty au, fantasy au | wc: 3.3k

⏤ To be betrothed to Eren is not only a great business advantage for your families, but a great honour for yourself. To be betrothed to Eren, and one day bound to him, would be your greatest glory.

On Prince Zeke's birthday, it snows.

The first snowfall of the year, after a long haul of barren landscapes and dropping blossoms; Eren feels like he’s been waiting forever for the snow to fall. Standing on the inside looking out, Eren rests his hands on the cool stone of his bay window, stretching his body to peer out onto the courtyard of his keep. A thin layer of white lies peacefully over the once green grass outside by the cherry blossom trees, castle turrets stretching up into a grey sky littered with tiny flakes. He inhales the smell of the snowfall, the fresh smell that tickles his nose as he catches the scent.

Today is the day, he thinks, pushing himself back flat onto his feet and retreating towards his wardrobe, the solo door in the wall that opened out into a spare room converted for his luxury. Today is the day he will officially court you, and it has to be perfect.

His advisor had laid out his clothes for him, on a small square shaped stool that sits next to one of the cabinets in Eren’s closet. He sees the set and smiles- perfect. Everything is perfect, including the day that follows him after he dresses, helped by his close servants who attach his armour and uniform, balancing a crown like thorns and barbed wire on top of his head.

You weren’t to be expected until the late afternoon, when the L/N’s would cross the Border from the Badlands into the North, towards Ravens’ Keep where he and his family lived and looked over the lands. Beyond the Badlands were the other Kingdoms of Marley, including your own; Three Streams, a traditional Kingdom with rivers winding through the towns, a much prettier sight to see than the cobble that ran around his own. Eren hoped that, given that his courtship to you went smoothly enough, he could one day visit and see the people that a marriage would inherit.

Late afternoon rolls around speedily, time passing in blinks and gasps, unreal speeds. Eren almost feels unprepared when the raven brings news of a crossing at the border, a royal carriage pulling through with an assembly and audience. His hands are clammy as he waits, pacing the royal hall out of anxiousness and anticipation, excitement at seeing you after so long. It had only been a few months, less than two. Enough for Eren to miss you, and the way you smiled shyly at him after the news of your betrothal.

Although nobody had known otherwise, Eren was happy that you were no longer betrothed to his brother. If it hadn’t been for the princess from Hizuru making an appearance at that same ball, he might have never got the chance to be with you. The thought sickens him. The thought of you with anybody but himself…he thought about it less and less as each day passed.

When you step down from the royal carriage, two hours later, when the moon says the time is past the hour of eight, Eren feels his heart in his throat. The sight of your feet covered in an elegant black heel, followed by a gown that drags across the freshly swept floor, makes Eren’s body shake out of nervousness. And it’s not in the Prince to get nervous easily. But, naturally, this occasion is made an exception.

“Lord and Lady L/N.”

His own mother steps from her place above Eren on the steps rising into their keep, out of protocol, and her hands reach for your own mothers. The two women embrace, old friends, and her gaze lands on you, sheepish behind your brother’s broad shoulders. “And, our wonderful Y/N. You look absolutely beautiful.”

“Thank you, your Grace,” you reply, meekly. She smiles tightly and turns away, out of politeness to invite you all inside, and then you look at Eren. The way he looks at you is the way you look at him, and the sight invites you in with one deep breath.

He is beyond words. Eren is beauty, the representation of hidden gorgeousness in the North, like the tales once said. The way he stands with his hands tucked in front of him, his thumbs nervously fighting as he bites his bottom lip has your breath pulled inwards. Regal in appearance, he wears his house colours and sigil sewn onto his breast, dark red and silver colours dappled with ebony covering his torso and legs, his sword slotted into the sheath shining as it catches the shine of your necklace, dipped into cleavage. He is too beautiful for his own good, a catch and a sight to behold. To be betrothed to Eren is not only a great business advantage for your families, but a great honour for yourself. To be betrothed to Eren, and one day bound to him, would be your greatest glory.

“My Lady,” Eren calls, bowing his head and body as you take small steps towards him. Your heels clip, like tiny horse hooves echoing in the silent snowfall, and Eren raises his gaze with a shy smile that you almost miss.

“My Lord,” you reply, following his gesture. When your gaze lifts to find his eyes, you see his hand reaching out for you, slender fingers outstretched like ornaments, like the branches on the sacred Tree of Tales outside Ravens’ Keep’s walls.

When your hand slots into his own, you feel that he is cold; yet a warmth spreads across your body, a connection of electricity that has his hand tightening around yours, a promise of protection and his entire attention for the evening. You remembered from the last time that Prince Eren was not a man of many words, his feelings and thoughts poured into physicalities that you had learned to translate.

The dinner that follows is, as expected to be, a success; the banquet is delivered within appropriate time and you eat quietly, speaking when spoken to, your gaze catching Eren’s across the table when nobody was looking. With Eren, while you are both expected to fulfil the promise of betrothal, there is also an expected level of professionalism and purity that you must keep. But looking into Eren’s eyes when you’re supposed to be looking at something else feels like victorious rebellion, like the feeling of adrenaline after breaking the rules. The deep look of longing in his eyes, the love on his cheeks, a pink hue that you almost don’t see in the candlelight.

Eren is so beautiful.

“There will be fireworks.” After spending far too long getting lost in Eren’s silent smiles and eyebrow quirks, you finally return to the adult conversations at the heads of the table. The Queen Mother, Eren’s mother, presses her chin into her palms as she discusses the traditions of royal birthday’s within this Kingdom, the ceremony that is planned for the hour of nine for Prince Zeke. “I would ask that you attend the ceremony, as future in laws and as current allies to our Kingdom.”

“There would be no greater honour,” comes the honest reply of your father.

Following a trail of burning orange lanterns that glow in the moonlight, the ceremony for Prince Zeke takes place in the royal gardens. It’s rustic and medieval, with high stone walls covered in snow and hanging lights from the trees. A free slot occupies the center of the space cleared for the ceremony, with bowls of ice and white blossom, the drinks required for the transitioning of age. The two royal families cross the length of the smaller courtyard within the main walls of the keep, and by the time they each reach the long staircase down into the gardens, a sudden hand tugging on your own makes you pause and take steps backwards, away from your family and Eren’s.

You turn suddenly, bewildered that somebody might try and stop you from attending the ceremony of Prince Zeke - yet, the sight of Eren’s own bashful and mischievous face surprises you, and he tugs you further away from the stairs, behind one of the artistically trimmed hedges that is covered in tiny blue berries.

“My Lord?” you question quietly and curiously, and Eren just continues to smile. His one hand that is wrapped around yours stays there, affectionately placed, meanwhile the other reaches for your cheek and pulls one of the loose long curls of hair away from your skin. The act leaves you breathless. Prince Eren is not allowed to touch you outside of public eye until marriage. This is forbidden.

But, he does it anyway. His personal guard who is assigned to him at all times watches from the staircase, and then he slowly moves out of view of the royal family and steps closer to the pair of you.

“Don’t worry,” Eren reassures you. You notice, now that you’re alone, that Eren’s formalities have dropped. He sounds more normal than you have ever heard him. This stolen intimacy makes your heart race, the feeling of butterfly wings against the inside of your stomach.

“What are you doing?” you ask him, cocking your head to the side with piqued interest. “If my family notice that I am missing, or worse, yours-!”

“I will tell them the truth, that I stole you away for myself to get a better view,” Eren replies, and now, the smile is so natural that when it drops, you miss it right away. “Lady L/N, my Y/N, I would like to offer you the best view in the kingdom for tonight’s ceremony. Would you do me the honour of joining me?”

“I would love that,” you reply, beaming in reply.

The hand rested on your cheek tucks the hair behind your ear and his hand lingers there, gently stroking before falling. Perhaps he realised how intimate this really was, private conversations behind shrubbery in the knowledge of Eren’s closest friend and trusted accomplice, his guard, Hannes.

Either way, Eren leads you by the hand and the heart towards a hidden stone staircase that sticks out of the wall, and with careful steps and a tight grasp of your hand, Eren helps you up. The daunting trip is also closely followed by Hannes, always one step behind, in case you should fall. You thankfully don’t, and the risk of danger is worth it by the time you reach the top, to where Eren has prepared for you both to sit.

This is a rooftop, near one of the pointed turret roofs of one of the towers to decorate his keep. Hannes stands near the staircase, respecting a well needed privacy between two betrothed and Eren pats a space next to him on the cool stone. Out of care, he wipes the stone clean with his hand, removing the thin layer of snow that once covered it and like dust, it falls from the sky to the floor below. Apprehensive, you slowly drop to sit next to him, copying his position of legs hanging over the small wall, heels staring down at the drop.

The view is worth it. From where you are sitting, the view of Ravens’ Keep is breathtaking. You can see for miles, gazing at the snow haze hanging over the Kingdom and the buildings whose lights shine through glassless windows, glowing like fireflies in the night. It’s like a painting, colours paid close attention to and the smell of citrus and snowfall, faint aromas of bread from the bakery near the keep. Eren observes your reactions to this freeing feeling of being on top of the world, and his chest tightens when you smile widely, a gasp leaving your mouth with a whip of air.

“It’s gorgeous,” you comment. Eren doesn’t look away.

“It is.”

Out the corner of your eye, you see his eyes on you. “I mean the view.”

“So do I,” he replies, and then you face him with raised eyebrows, a scandalised expression on your face. “What?” He laughs, “did I lie?”

“Sh,” you quip, and he laughs again.

This he prefers, much more than the forced formalities of being royal. Eren likes it best when you’re you, the candid natural beauty unmissable. It’s the same thing he desired when he first saw you that day with your handmaid, the normal and informal squabbling he thought of as more endearing than insensitive, something he wished he could do with you somebody. It’s the same thing Eren likes most about you, the same thing he wants to see you do more.

He closes these thoughts as he looks away, staring at the glowing lights of the ceremony and the sight of the Kingdom that might one day be his. While his brother is now betrothed to marry the Princess of Hizuru, his fate as King of Ravens’ Keep remains uncertain. He might even move to the capitol when the war is over, and rule the entire country. That would leave Ravens’ Keep to Eren, and by extension, to you, and your future family. That thought makes him wriggle with nervousness.

“I think it’s starting soon,” Eren says suddenly. He sees a flame flicker, like they’re getting ready to release the lanterns. They do this every year for their birthdays; the people of his Kingdom will light silver and orange lanterns and release them to the sky, a rising parade of glowing lights to celebrate the birth and age of the princes, soon to be Kings, of the North. “I remember this from last year.”

“Oh?” You sit up, arching to peek at the courtyard. “I can’t see anything.”

“You will,” promises Eren. When you look at him, he grins and grabs your hand again, “You’ll love it, I promise.”

“I’m excited,” you confess shyly. “Everybody’s told me a lot about the ceremony for your birthdays.”

“Yeah?” Eren replies with a light laugh. “Have any of your memories come back, by the way? I know the last time we met, things were still unclear.”

“They still are,” you admit honestly, “but things are getting easier. I’m finally back to where I think I was before. It’s definitely less confusing.”

Eren laughs genuinely. “That’s good to know. I thought the idea of betrothed marriage disgusted you.”

“No, never,” you insist, shaking your head. “It was…a surprise, yes. But, it’s not so bad.”

The prince smirks playfully, “no?”

“No,” you tease. “I think it’s going to work out fine for me.”

You have no idea, but the sound of that fills Eren’s chest with joy, something so warm and tight and good that he almost wants to cry.

Out of the corner of his eye, he can see the lights engulf the courtyard, lanterns being prepared. He wonders if they’ve noticed neither of you are there, or if they care- maybe they know their son well enough to understand what he’s done, where he’s taken you and what he’s about to do. Just before the first royal lantern is lit and lifted to the endless skies of ebony, clustered by blinking stars, Eren’s fingers trace patterns on your skin and you pause, looking at him.

“My Y/N,” he starts, his voice unusually quiet and nervous. You try to meet his eyes but he ducks away.

“Yes?” you encourage, but he says nothing. You grasp his hand tighter, “Eren?”

“It is expected of me to like you,” he begins, and those starting words make you shudder cold, “and I’m sorry if this is…I don’t know…forward of me.” He sighs, gasping courage: “But I like you. So much.”

Your world pauses.

“And it would mean everything and more to me,” he continues with a deep and worried voice, “if you would take my hand. In courtship.”

When you say nothing, Eren fears that perhaps you might not understand. He swallows the lump in his throat: “Um, Hannes told me it’s also been called dating. We date. Like…a less intimate version of marriage, I think. Um-”

“I know what courting is,” you nod, unintentionally interrupting and his mouth opens to an ‘o’. He says nothing, feeling slightly embarrassed as time passes. His gut wrenches, he wants to cry and run away. But before he can do this, and before he can regret it, Eren feels your body warmth closer to his and his eyes focus, watching as you gently lean forward and kiss his lips.

It is so gentle, and so fleeting, and missed greatly when you pull away. Eren blinks, dazed, and as the lanterns in the courtyard are gently raised one by one in celebration of Zeke’s birthday, Eren leans himself forward as you join to kiss you again, one hand on his lap and the other cupping the side of your head, fingers in your hair, head in the clouds.

The sky is glittering and glowing with silver and orange, the sound of church bells and cheers in the Kingdom rising in the sky as they set off into the darkness. It is so beautiful, and peaceful as the colours engulf the sky, surrounded by the snow that falls lightly like a kiss, and in between each kiss comes the glimpse of silver from a lantern, the burst of life from fireworks that somebody is setting off deeper in the Kingdom. The colours are royal and gorgeous, reds and blues and whites and a bright gold, lost and missed between kisses as he closes his eyes, and yours, too.

Intimacy is sacred, something reserved for marriage, but after tonight, there is no way Eren can resist the urge and need to be with you. You fill a space in Eren that had otherwise been left empty and exposed, like a lost and found puzzle piece that completes the set. Eventually one hand on your head becomes two, and confidence inside Eren is ripped through when your hands grasp his wrists, bringing him closer, the need and lust and yearning for one another so absolute and passionate that even Hannes, who is still by the stairs, can feel the love. When Eren finally realises he is being selfish, stealing your sight of the highly regarded birthday celebration, he pulls away and rests his forehead against your own, catching his breath.

He could shy away when he opens his eyes and sees your own looking right back at him, but he does not. Instead he smiles, so brightly that he resembles the life in the sky, and my Gods, he is so breathtaking, so divine and regal and beautiful that it hurts. The truth now is that meeting Eren had been one of the biggest mysteries and accidents of your life, whilst also being the absolute completion of it. The sight of lanterns fills your eyes like a painting and Eren notices that Hannes is shuffling towards him, a lantern that he had fetched whilst you were otherwise occupied being thrust into his hands.

“Y/N,” Eren calls quickly, and you catch sight of the lantern in his hands and smile widely.

Down below, from the courtyard dazzled with lights in the sky, Lady Yeager turns in awe at the sight, in circles staring at the sky. She pauses on her second rotation, her eyes piercing to gaze at the turret near Eren’s bedroom; the sight of a lone silver lantern rising to the sky makes her heart burst with something new, something tight and relieving and warm. Everybody had noticed Eren’s absence, along with your own, and it wasn’t hard to put together the pieces.

She smiles, knowing better. Oh, to be young and in love.

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