A soulmate AU where you have a black stain where your soulmate is supposed to touch you for the first time and it turns to millions of colors once they do.
Like, so many people with their right palms all black, waiting for that one handshake.
People who have black knuckles who are scared for years that they end up punching their soulmate or something and end up coming home with their knuckles turned all shades of red and blue and purple without them noticing because sometimes your hands just brush together.
Someone having a very visible black palm on their cheek that they try to cover up because people will just know they will be slapped one day.
send a number for a starter / drabble based off a specific soulmate au! most are taken from this list. feel free to add more if you want! (can also be adapted to fit poly ships!)
the one where you only see color once you meet your soulmate.
the one where you have your soulmate’s name written on your body.
the one where you and your soulmate have matching marks on your bodies.
the one where you and your soulmate have matching marks and the marks glow when you’re near your soulmate.
the one where you don’t know your soulmate until you touch them.
the one where when you dream you’re seeing whatever your soulmate is currently experiencing.
the one where you and your soulmate share an emotional link.
the one where your soulmate’s first words to you are written on your body.
the one where your soulmate’s last words to you are written on your body.
the one where you have a timer on your wrist that counts down to when you meet your soulmate.
the one where soulmates share extreme physical sensation — if one gets hurt, the other gets hurt, and etc.
the one where soulmates can heal each other’s injuries.
the one where only your soulmate can kill you.
the one where color appears on your body wherever your soulmate first touches you.
the one where every lie your soulmate tells you appears on your skin.
the one where anything written on your skin appears on your soulmate’s skin as well.
the one where your soulmate’s name is on one wrist and your enemy’s name is on the other and you have no clue which is which.
the one where whenever you get a song stuck in your head, it’s because your soulmate is singing it.
the one where soulmates are reincarnated and keep finding each other throughout their different lives.
the one where you don’t know your soulmate until you hear them say your name.
the one where you can talk to your soulmate in dreams.
the one where it’s impossible to lie to your soulmate.
the one where once you meet your soulmate, it’s physically uncomfortable to be apart from them for too long.
the one where you have a compass on your body that leads you to your soulmate.
the one where you have the date you’ll meet your soulmate on your wrist.
the one where you have the date your soulmate will die on your wrist.
the one where you can transfer any injuries/pain your soulmate has onto yourself.
the one where some people can see the red string of fate and follow it to their soulmates.
the one where your soulmate’s ghost haunts you when they die.
Advent calendar, 12 days of Smutmas, 8 of the Hottest Hanukkah nights, 7 for Kinky Kwanzaa, or just one to send the year off with a bang… however you choose, here are some smutty holiday prompts to light that fire in your hearth.
“Usually it’s just a kiss under the mistletoe…”
Waking up early for ‘presents.’
“Suck on my candy cane.”
“I found a ‘Slutty Santa’ costume leftover from Halloween.”
“You’re on the naughty list…”
“We’re apart this season, but that doesn’t mean we can’t enjoy ourselves.”
Too much eggnog
“I’ll be home for Christmas.”
“On the 12th day of Kinkmas, my true love gave to me…”
“Santa, baby…”
The only singles at the holiday/new year’s party.
That is not the intended use of a dreidel.
“Oh, look, mistletoe!”
“You’re freezing! Let me warm you up.”
Yuletide Log
Do Not Open Until Christmas
“I hate everything about the holidays, except you.”
Secret Santa
“The holidays are stressful… We need some relief.”
An Altmer, an Orc, and a Nord get caught crossing the border... Yikes.
More of this will come eventually.
It wasn’t really how she had pictured it to be. Alongside an Orc and a few Nords, being carted off with Ulfric Stormcloak himself. Nirsara knew who he was, of course. It was her job to know. At least it had been. Now, she was far out of the reaches of her job. Caught up in a fight she had no part in; Imperials ambushing Ulfric and his handful of guards, while she had been trying to cross the border out of Skyrim to make way to Cyrodiil. She hadn’t been the only one stuck, the female Orc also trying to cross, though she was attempting to get in to Skyrim.
Nirsara mused to herself while the blubbering man across from her begged the carriage driver to let him go. ‘You never quit the Thalmor, they quit you.’ It was something she told herself often over the last few years while she found it more and more difficult to proceed with her job. Instigating war to cement themselves at a place of higher power sounded entertaining on paper, but as it became more obvious that it would only damage the Dominion further, she saw it as less enticing.
“You, Orc, what were you crossing for?”
Nirsara watched as the Orc’s eyes went from looking at the scenery to the man asking for polite conversation.
“I killed my chief because I refused to be a third wife toiling away in the mines. The elders refused to acknowledge me as new chief because I’m not a man. I was to pay the blood price for it, but I left instead. Not that it matters now.” Her voice was like gravel and crushed velvet, an odd yet satisfying combination. Every word was laced with truth and honesty, and it felt good to share.
“I’m afraid I don’t know much about Orc culture, but I assume a blood price is a death penalty?”
“Close. It’s bleeding until the victim is satisfied. If you steal, you get beaten until the person you stole from feels you’ve been punished enough. In my case, the penalty was certainly going to be death, but I refused. I would not die in a clan that would not acknowledge strength where it was shown. Malacath has taught me one thing, and that is to live honourably. There is no honour in a coward’s death. As is no honour at a chopping block, but I am out of choices. I will accept what happens here.”
“You would make a fine Nord with that attitude.”
The Orc let out a grave laugh, finding all parts of the situation to be a huge joke on herself and her beliefs.
“Perhaps in another life, if Malacath permits me so.”
“May he be merciful to you.”
“Thank you.”
The Nord man turned his sights to Nirsara, looking to start more conversation. The wagon ride was still long, hours to go before they reached their final destination.
“Elf, how have you healed? I remember seeing you injured before they loaded you in with us.”
A slight pause while she calculated an answer. To reveal she was a former Thalmor would be moronically unwise. Catching Ulfric’s gaze on her, she knew he was also calculating what she would say. If he hadn’t pegged her already, surely he would if she said the wrong thing.
“I was trying to leave to get to Cyrodiil. Back to my family. Before I could get to the border, I was jumped by highway men. They took what little I carried and made sure to leave a mark for it. The Imperials saw the blood when I got mixed up in your fight and they assumed I had a part in it. Without papers or anything to prove I was a bystander, they tossed me here.”
“Damn Empire..”
“It is what it is, I’m afraid.”
“What of your family?”
Ulfric’s steely eyes watched her every move, his mouth still bound to keep him complacent and from shouting anyone else apart. It was almost unsettling.
“They….. They’ll go on without me, I think. Maybe do even better.”
Everyone remained silent for a time after that. Nirsara hoped it was believable enough. It took Ulfric’s glare off her at the very least.
“What is your name?”
“Isn’t it polite to give yours first?”
“Forgive me, then. Ralof.”
“Batûl.”
“A pleasure. For what it’s worth.”
“The same to you.”
“And you?”
Eyes on her again, Nirsara debated the answer. If she was going to die anyway, what did it matter? But there was a hard feeling in the pit of her stomach. What if I don’t die today?
“C..Cordelia.”
“That’s an unusual name for a high elf.”
“I’m an unusual person.”
This time, laughter. It was light and didn’t last long but they had at least that moment.
“I’m Brynja, thanks for asking.”, the Nord woman piped up, nudging Ralof for daring to forget her.
The rest of the ride went as well as it could have, Batûl and Nirsara taking turns dozing off before they got to the end.
“Captain, they aren’t on the list.”
“To the block!”
A heavy sigh escaped Batûl as she approached her line. She fought tooth and nail to be respected by her tribe, and they turned their backs on her. All the good it did as she stood there, waiting for the headsman to claim her.
I failed you, Malacath. As a daughter and a warrior.
“The Orc!”
A roar echoed through the sky as everyone began to look for the noise.
“Pig face, lets go!”
A snarl on Batûl’s lips, how she hated the humans and their insults.
“You are lucky I’m dying or you’d be dead yourself!” An outburst unlike any they’d seen, the captain was almost going to call archers instead.
“Get to the block, pig.”
Forced down on her knees, Batûl looked at the bloody stone. It was cold and grimy, the man’s head in the basket staring lifeless at her. The blood had dripped from the stone to the ground, puddling at her knees. The captain slammed her head onto the stone with enough force to make her go dizzy for a moment.
That roar echoed in the sky again.
“What was that?”
“There it is again!”
There was pause given, Batûl holding her breath and shutting her eyes so she wouldn’t have to watch the headsman swing down.
Malacath, whatever you have in your power to save me, please.. I beg of you to do so. I won’t fail again if I get another chance.
A loud crash as a shout from above in a foreign language permeated the air.
“What in the name of Oblivion is that?!”
Eyes opening, Batûl saw a dragon as black as night upon the tower above her, spitting fire and crashing brimstone.
“Batûl, get up!” Hearing her name, the Orc quickly sat up, but not without feeling the pain of her head from being slammed against the stone. It was the Elf she had met, calling to her. Now was her chance.
'This wasn’t what I meant but I’ll take it.’, she mused to herself while trying to haul on her feet. Hands still bound, she had some difficulty but made it, then took to sprinting towards the Elf.
The door had been kept open for her and then it was slammed shut, Elf keeping it closed by pressing her body to it. They were in a small room, it was her, a Nord woman, and Batûl. The Nord came up to Batûl with a dagger.
“Here, let me cut you free.” Batûl recognized her from before on the carriage.
“Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet, we still need to get out of here.”
Nirsara watched from the window to see if the dragon was still causing havoc, and it certainly was.
“We can’t go out this way…”, she mumbled before stepping away from it.
“Where in Void’s name do you think we can go then?”
“There’s stairs in here, we can either go up or down.”
“Down into the Imperial basement? Hardly my first choice.”
Nirsara sighed and held the bridge of her nose, trying to keep herself centered.
“We’re unarmed, have no protection, and in case you forgot, there’s a dragon outside burning this place to a crisp. Our choices are go take a chance through here, or go fight a dragon with our fists. I like the idea where I’m not punching the sky in hopes I hit something!”
Batûl began to feel anger rising up in her. They were bickering like children at a time like this? She swore steam started rolling off her shoulders.
“Enough!!”
Brynja and Nirsara both stopped, turning to look at Batûl.
“We don’t have time to argue! If you don’t want to go this way, then don’t! I’m going down here instead of waiting. Let’s go!”
Before further arguments could be had, the dragon had landed on their tower, blowing fire into it. All three ladies dove into the trap door below, hoping it would be safer than nothing.
Now that Delilah's out of the Bliss and safely back at Hope County Jail, she has some time to recover before she goes back on the horse and into the fight. A somber moment is had that leads her to her next mission.
Part one.
Though she insisted she was fine, Delilah nearly collapsed when she tried to get off her cot. Knees buckling under herself, head going fuzzy and light, she almost blacked out. When offered the wheelchair a second time, she decided it was for the better. Internally, she cursed herself. They didn't have time for her to be unable to help or work. Another part of her, something she thought selfish, was glad to be able to rest and have no obligation. She was dehydrated, hungry, and exhausted. If she didn't rest, she would surely drop dead outside the jail walls.
"You sure you're up for this? It can wait a couple days longer."
"No, I'm... I'm okay. I just can't be runnin' around."
"If you're sure."
"I'm okay, Jude."
Jude pushed her chair out to the back as they went to meet Virgil, Earl, and Tracey outside. Delilah adjusted herself in the chair, trying to scoot herself into a more comfortable position. The ground got more bumpy as they went to the grassy part of the jail courtyard, but Jude remained steady and straight.
"Glad to see you feelin' better, Delilah."
"It's a step in the right direction, at least."
Tracey looked up from the ground, leaning against the shovel she had stuck into a pile of dirt. She didn't quite smile, but she was content to see her doing okay.
"Nice to be back in the world of the living?"
"For sure."
Virgil had the body on a stretcher close by, wrapped in a sheet. There was a wooden cross resting on top as well, held together with what seemed to be wires and twine.
"I hope this will help you, Ms. Walker."
"...Is it alright if I see her?"
There were shared glances all around, but ultimately it was settled.
"Sure."
Jude helped her stand from the wheelchair, holding her hands to allow her up and keeping close to help her walk. Her steps were shaky at best, Earl coming to her other side just in case. A part of him wasn't quite sure he could help the amazon of a woman if she fell on top of him, but he would certainly try.
"Help me down."
"Yes, baby."
Carefully helping her to her knees, it was more of a collapse to the ground than gentle setting. A small grunt, she was fine regardless. Jude set himself down beside her while Earl, Tracey, and Virgil gave them a moment and stepped away.
Delilah pulled the sheet back slowly after setting the cross aside. The Angel looked like she was sleeping, peacefully and undisturbed. Gently brushing her fingers over her cheek, Delilah felt a small scar.
"Do we know what happened?"
"...The best guess was that a Peggy cut her open and left her for dead. She was bleedin' from her belly real bad. None of our people would be that cruel."
"That's so terrible."
"I know."
Delilah pulled more of the sheet back to see the Angel was put in different clothes, one of the prison jumpsuits they had on hand. She started to unbutton it, pulling it gently aside. Seeing nothing under the suit save bare flesh, she took note of scarring and bruises near her breasts and neck. She didn't pull it open more quite yet to see the stomach wound.
"What happened to you?", she asked the corpse, half expecting an answer. Looking at the face again, Delilah realized this girl was still a teenager. Jude kept his palm pressed against her back, rubbing circles against her spine.
"Jude, she's just a baby!"
"They're takin' everyone."
"No, Jude, she's younger than Bambi, look at her. She can't be older than fifteen."
Jude's heart sank in his chest as he looked closer. She was right. Delilah didn't want to look further, but she had to. She pulled the jumpsuit back more to find the wound that had been there. It had been sewn up, right below her stomach.
"Jude, they cut her open like an animal." She wasn't really talking to him, more to herself now. She lightly touched the stitched wound before she decided she had enough. She knew what happened now, and it made her sick.
The jumpsuit was buttoned back up, Delilah being gentle and respectful to the poor girl that lay dead. Earl and company came back when she wrapped the sheet back over the Angel.
"Find your peace with her, Del?" She was unsure how to answer that.
"...Sort of." It put more questions in her than anything. Why would they do something like this?
Jude and Whitehorse helped Delilah back on to her feet, and she staggered back into the wheelchair herself.
"Thank you for doing this, Virgil. I appreciate it."
"Not a problem, Ms. Walker. We're happy to help."
After a bit more sleep and something to eat, Delilah was able to walk around a bit on her own. She was perfectly content with that, letting Jude and Earl go about the jail to work on their own pet project they had. Delilah had her own special mission for the moment; find Tracey. Her search took more time than she liked, mostly due to her slow moving, but she found her sitting outside having a cigarette.
" 'Sup?"
"Can I talk to you about somethin'?"
"Sure."
Delilah took a moment to debate how to word it before deciding blunt honesty and curiosity would be best.
"I know you used to be a part of the Cult, and I was wonderin' if I could ask you a few things about it."
Tracey didn't freeze, though she did hold in a drag a bit longer than necessary while thinking over her own answer.
"If you want, shoot away." Getting up, Tracey let her have her chair and then plopped herself on the ground beside her.
"How long were you a part of it?"
"A few years. Rachel had been a part of it for a while and convinced me to join. We were close friends for... A very long time."
"When did you leave?"
"Few months ago. Things started to get... Crazy, I guess. For a crazy religious cult, that's saying something. They wanted to "re-educate" me in their ways. I told them to fuck off and hopped out ASAP."
"Do you... Hm."
The question got stuck on her tongue, Tracey watching expectantly.
"Did any of them seem... Rapey? I guess."
"I mean, all of 'em are pretty nasty and I wouldn't have put it past any of them, especially the Seed brothers. Why?"
Delilah fidgeted in her chair, leg bouncing up and down as she pressed her weight into her toes.
"I looked at the body of that Angel y'all buried for me. I wanted t'know what happened. She looked like she was just a teen, and.. I saw a whole lot of bruisin' on her neck that were akin to holdin' someone down. And I looked at her wound. It looked like... Like someone cut... Cut a baby out of her. I need to know who could've done that."
"Jesus, Del."
It was all Tracey could muster as she ground her cigarette into the gravel. She wasn't a stranger to the horrors of the Peggies, but to hear something like that, it made her sick.
"I don't know who could've done that, but I know a place where they dispose of dead Angels. One guy there is pretty eager to do it, it's the same dude from when I was a part of it. Gets some kinda sick joy of tossin' 'em out like trash. If he's not the guy, he'll know who is."
"Thank you. I appreciate it."
"Don't mention it. The less Peggies we have, the better. Especially if it's ones that stick their crusty dicks in anything with a hole to spare."
"I love the visual."
Though it may have been inappropriate, they both got a bit of a laugh. Anything to alleviate the tension. Delilah got up as Tracey did, the older woman going back inside to leave the other to her guard duties.
Some FC5 writings with my Dep. I'll be doing more at some point but this has just been sitting for a while. I also want to continue it at some point so maybe that will be in the future. For now, enjoy Delilah struggling with the Bliss.
She was lost for what felt like weeks. The bliss had made her lose her perception of time, and she found herself trying to track on her arm in days with a Sharpie she had been keeping in her pocket. It would only be a matter of time before she ran out of space. Blurred gaze looks up to the sky and she sees just a misty grey above her. Delilah felt her last shreds of hope leaving with every fleeting moment.
“Momma?”
Head shooting up and into the direction of the voice, Delilah felt as if her eyes would pop out of her skull. Scrambling to her feet, she followed the echoed voice to find the source.
“Momma, please help me. I’m scared.”
She recognized the voice, chasing it through a clearing in the deep woods. Faith was there, and so was another girl holding her hand. It took Delilah a moment to see who it was.
“Bambi! Bambi, come here baby!” Reaching for her daughter’s hand, Faith walked the teen closer to her before she relinquished her soft grip. Delilah brushed her daughter’s hair out of her eyes and rubbed her thumbs along her face before holding her close to her chest. “It’s okay, baby. We’re going to be alright.”
Faith stands, watching silently as mother and daughter unite. “Doesn’t this feel good? Being with your family?”
Delilah’s arms were tight around Bambi, keeping her against her body. She stared at Faith, fighting back the tears welling in her own eyes. “Let her go, you don’t need her. You need me.” Bambi’s grip was tight against her mother’s vest, her entire body trembling.
Faith took pause for a moment before she gave what was a calculated smile. “You know, the rest of your family isn’t far from us. Let’s find them together.” She takes Bambi by the hand, their fingers entwining softly and naturally. Delilah tried to keep her grip on the teen, but failed. She slipped away like water, untouchable. There was no fight from Bambi, as she willingly followed Faith away from her mother.
“I want to find Iris.” Her voice is soft as tears welled up, wiped away by the older girl.
“Don’t take my daughter, please!” The cry falls on deaf ears as she tries to sprint after them. They get further away, the forest growing into a long valley. It was like she had been set on a treadmill, trying to catch up but stuck running in place. No matter how much she went, Bambi and Faith were getting further. Their voices became soft buzzing, eventually fading out entirely. Delilah wanted to let out a scream, but it would be no use.
She could hear a soft hum, it grew louder as she finally deemed herself closer to them in the ever expanding forest. Faith was there, sitting on the ground with Bambi. They were waiting for someone, and it wasn’t Delilah. When she reached the next clearing where they sat, she nearly collapsed herself. Joseph was approaching, Iris asleep on his shoulder. The humming was louder as he carried her, Delilah recognizing it as Amazing Grace. Her heart thumped quickly and harshly against her ribs, stuck between exhaustion and fear.
“She’s such a sweet girl.” His voice made her skin crawl, watching him lovingly pet her little girl’s hair as if he were her kin. Iris slept soundly, nestled against him and unknown to how much danger she was in. Delilah clenched her hands tightly, trying to figure out a plan of action.
“I would consider your next move carefully, Delilah. You wouldn’t want to wake her. She doesn’t need to bear witness to your sin.” It was like he read her mind. His blue eyes tinted yellow by the shades he wore stared right at her. She felt his gaze going through her, almost as if she weren’t there.
“I just want my kids.”
“They’re our family. As are you.”
Her own eyes flickered down to Bambi and Faith, the older girl smiling and braiding the younger’s hair as they sat. Bambi held a white flower in her hands, looking happy and serene.
“My children are not yours! You’re a monster who killed your own, and now y'usin’ y'brothers for your dirty work.”
“You fail to see what we have in common.” It was here Faith stood and glided her way to Joseph. Gently, lovingly, she took Iris in her own arms, balanced on her hip and nestled into the crook of her neck.
Joseph came to Delilah, who felt as if she could not move. He reached slowly, carefully, setting his palm against her stomach. She felt like she’d been stabbed as his hand came away, fresh blood visibly dripping from it.
“You killed your own, as have I. Both were a test for us.” Delilah’s eyes widen as she looked down at her now bloodied shirt, as if he had cut her open himself. She wrapped an arm over the wound, teeth grit and hissing.
“You and I are not the same!” She growled at him, teeth barred as a wolf protecting her pack would. “You are a heartless beast, you killed your own child while she lay helpless. You killed mine, too.”
Joseph looked at her with only the smallest hint of a smile upturning his lips.
“You must learn to accept your faults. None of us are perfect, but you will learn.” He set his palm to her face, pressing blood into her as he did so.
“You will learn to forgive yourself, as I have forgiven you. Wrath is a sickness. It makes us do the unthinkable.” He pressed their foreheads together, his palm leaving her cheek and instead pressing into the back of her head to push her closer.
“We will see you when it’s time to come home.”
Delilah felt lightheaded, looking back to her kids. Faith had gone with Iris, she assumed they followed Joseph. Bambi remained, and not in good shape. Delilah didn’t have it in herself to scream and try to run after her youngest, instead she fell to her knees beside her oldest.
“Momma, I don’t…. I don’t feel good.” Blood seeped from Bambi’s stomach, it leaked from her mouth, her nose. Delilah couldn’t find the source as she tried to stop it. She set her hands tightly against her belly, trying to keep pressure on as tears streamed down her cheeks.
“Baby, just hold on– Just.. Just hold on! I’ll….. I’ll find daddy, he’s here somewhere.. And then we’ll find your sister.. We’ll make it out of here, baby, just stay with me!” Her voice was frantic, pleading as she tried to stop the bleeding that just kept coming. It started leaving from her head, as if she had an unseen gash. Delilah now felt the scream again, building in her throat and threatening to escape as she helplessly watched her daughter bleed out under her touch. Bambi gagged and choked below her, gasping for air as her mouth filled with more blood. Carefully, Delilah turned her to her side to try and help alleviate it.
“Bambi, it’s gonna be okay! I’m gonna fix this!”
Delilah kept talking, trying to be heard over the gasps and rasps until they stopped altogether. She felt Bambi’s last breath under her palms, heard her struggled breaths fade into gurgles with blood in her throat like water. Her pulse weakened until it stopped altogether. The one thing Delilah couldn’t bear was the lightless look in her daughter’s eyes. Trembling hands press to her face, trying to coax her awake to no avail.
There were no words she could think of to say to herself as she gathered Bambi up in her arms. Delilah rocked back and forth, tucking soiled blonde hairs out of her baby’s face, still trying to gently wake her back up. Her throat itched as she began to sob, fingers tightening their grip on Bambi’s shirt. Delilah wailed and bawled, unable to try to find solace in it. Her first baby was gone. Her second was taken. Her third didn’t even have a chance to live. She cried until she ached, still holding on to what was left of her old life. She desperately wanted, or perhaps needed, her husband with her. If they hadn’t gotten separated, they could have prevented this. It’s what she told herself while she sat there, berating her own ambitions when she had left Jude to his fishing while she wanted to investigate some abandoned outposts. It made her heart empty out thinking of him being gone, too.
Garbled voices start behind her, and she doesn’t move. Whether she lived or died, she didn’t care. Jacob, in all his fucked up logic, was the one who had made most sense. How many people end up dead because of you trying to help?
She resigned herself to telling him he was right when she saw him in Hell.
The voices get louder, clearer, as they get closer to her.
“–Uty spotted! Move in!”
“So much– Is she gonna–”
“What is she holding?”
Hands reach her, and though she had given up, she didn’t want to leave Bambi behind. Delilah screamed, anguish and rage in equal measure as she tried to fight against the figures taking her daughter away.
“–Lilah! It’s us!”
“She’s hurt, be careful!”
She thrashed and thrashed more, swatting and punching whatever came her way until she was pressed roughly into the ground. A familiar voice buzzed in her face, but she couldn’t make out the words as she felt a jab in her arm.
“–On the truck!”
“Sheriff what do we do about– she’s dead!”
“Get'em both! We can’t afford– more time!”
Waking up was the most stressful thing that happened to her. Delilah shot up, screaming and heart racing, only to be met with another wall of hands and voices. Palms press to her cheeks, a calm voice whispering to her, and her eyes finally focus.
“Jude! I- I saw-”
“Lay back down, it’s alright.”
“No, I saw..”
“It wasn’t real. I promise.”
He gently guided her back down on the cot, Whitehorse watching from her side. He had helped retrieve her, making the call to get her on the truck. As well as someone else.
Jude pressed a wet cloth against her forehead, being as soft as he could to try and get her to relax.
“Where’s Bambi, I need to call her.”
“Bambi is with your sister in Beckley. Iris, too.”
“But- But I saw them. I saw them here!”
Jude and Earl shared a glance, the sheriff deciding now would be his turn to step in. Jude held on to her trembling hands while he explained.
“We found you in the forest with a dead Angel. There was so much blood we didn’t know what was happening to either of you.”
“Then my daughters–”
“It was the Bliss.”
“How.. How did they know? It was so.. So real.”
“They play tricks on us… Get us to reveal what we want safe. But it wasn’t real, Delilah. Your kids are safe, away from this place.”
Tears well up in her eyes and she tries to sit up again, this time much slower and calmer. Jude helps her, letting go of her hands and allowing her to move freely.
“Who… Who was I holding when you found me?”
“An Angel.”
“What happened to them?”
“You didn’t want to let go no matter what we did.. We brought her with us. Virgil suggested a burial, wanted to wait up for you if it would put your mind at ease.”
Deliah stayed quiet for a moment, leaning against her husband. His arm over the front of her shoulders was nice, protective. It kept her grounded while she weighed her mind and heart.
“I’d… I’d like that. I don’t think I can now.. But if..”
“We’ll get to it tomorrow. Rest up, you’ve been through hell and a half.”
It was there that Earl left, allowing the two what little privacy that could be gained from the plastic curtain around them. Delilah heard him speaking in another room, but was unable to make the words out. All she could figure was that it was about her. Jude got her to lay back again, kissing her forehead and staying close.
“How long was I gone?”
“A couple days? Maybe three? When I lost track of you, I went searching as best I could but it was like y'just vanished. I know you’re capable of survivin’, so I didn’t think it would’ve been a bad idea t’come back and get a search party..” Jude’s voice began to trail off as she watched his expression move to a somber one.
“We both didn’t know, Jude.”
“Look what it cost us.”
Delilah felt herself getting heavy with exhaustion as she laid there. It was difficult to argue against him in this state, something she’d have to revisit at a later date.
Here’s a meme based on shit me and my best friend have said to each other. Feel free to adjust prounouns and wording as you please. And remember to practice reblog karma with each other! [ part one // two // three ]
"I know how to spell peef!"
"I'm shitting as fast as I can!"
"This litterbox is lookin' real friendly."
"Boss Nass is a mood."
"I think it's time we see other faces."
"Oh, look at him. He's a stinkboy."
"Something in my clavicle vicinity just cracked."
"Your neckular region?"
"Please god, don't take away the laughter. It's all I have left!"
"Pride and Prejudice got me Pride and Fucked Up."
"He smells like a hot dumpster mixed with cologne."
"STOP! I can smell every teenage boy I've ever come in to contact with."
"I'm not really feeling any kind of whelmed here.. Mostly just 'under'."
"I am a simple unga bunga. I like anything you do."
"I grabbed a cookie for you. Alternatively, I grabbed two cookies for me if you don't want it."
[Hapazardly waves knife] "I FEED THIS FAMILY!"
"I don't even know what pico de gallo is but I'm makin' it."
Here’s a meme based on shit me and my best friend have said to each other. Feel free to adjust prounouns and wording as you please. And remember to practice reblog karma with each other! [ part one // two ]
"Stop jiggling my arm."
"I'm convinced we've accidentally gotten married at some point because this is like dealing with in laws."
"We're like those couples that sleep in separate beds to keep the intimacy alive somehow."
"He needs a sugar friend."
"Sellin' her DEEZ GUTS!"
"I'm stuck but I can still sword!!"
"I don't want to be the mitochondria. You can be the powerhouse of the cell."
"I just rickrolled myself, what fucking year is this."
"Those are vore enthusiast eyes."
"I have hiccups, it's who I am as a person."
"Are you trying to kill me?"
"I'm trying to kill you and myself, it's a murder suicide."
"WHY IS [name] POINTING A GUN AT ME, I DON'T WANNA DIE, [name]!"
"Why is my name 'Greased Feet'?"
"I hate things. If you exist, fuck you."
"Nani the fuckmst?"
"How do I pin messages in real life?"
"I never wanna listen to this song again. ......Okay yes I do, it fuckin' slaps."
"Teeth! Teeth! Teeth! Teeth! Teeth!"
"I don't need hi-def feet!"
"I'm having contraptions!!"
"No you're not. You're fine."
"Get off my lap you stanky bitch."
"Is it the Landgraab's circle jerk?"
"You like, destroyed my bread bowl."
"I wanted the succulent breadmeat within."
"I was working on ____ but then I had to stop and watch these seven clever ways to store my kids' toys."
"You don't have kids!"
Here’s a meme based on shit me and my best friend have said to each other. Feel free to adjust prounouns and wording as you please. And remember to practice reblog karma with each other!
"That's no moon! It's a fuckin' witch!"
"What half would you prefer to be? The long way, or the fat way?"
"The least survivable halving. That is what I prefer."
"Are you hissing at me?"
"Choose life!"
"I'm just full of toots."
"They're full of the vinegar today."
"Not just the piss but the vinegar too."
"I hear Moses has an eight pack. I hear Moses is shredded."
"Get ready to watch me eat Santa in two bites."
"Do not deep throat Santa."
”You’re not persevering enough!”
"_____ just might blow up behind me."
"I have a fart building, so maybe."
"I'm not doin' any better; I'm just sittin' here slappin' my nuts and dyin'."
Send in a symbol for our muses doing something Christmas related! Feel free to specify who's doing what if you feel the need. Please remember to practice reblog karma where applicable!
🎄 - Decorating a tree together!
🍪 - Baking together!
🎅 - Decorating the house, inside and out!
🎁 - Exchanging gifts!
🎀 - Going to a holiday party!
☃️ - Messing around in the snow!
❄️ - Stuck inside with a blizzard!
☕ - Sharing hot drinks!
💕 - Under the mistletoe!
🍲 - Having Christmas dinner!
📺 - Movie marathons!
🔥 - Being warm by the fire or heater!
Here's a meme based on shit me and my best friend have said to each other. Part one of many. Feel free to adjust prounouns and wording as you please. And remember to practice reblog karma with each other!
"The first squirt is always the hardest."
"It's not fucking whipped cream, it's just a bunch of cheese in there."
"What if I did a backflip?"
"I have thousands of fat kids inside me, each one fatter than the last."
"I'm too lit!"
"Here in the village, we don't throw spiders at children."
"Who's that boy? Who's that boy? It's _____!"
"Did your horse just eat someone?"
"I don't want a whoppy."
"Hello my smol little crispy boi."
"Why is he crispy?"
"I will get out of my cocoon and beat your ass."
"I'd rather go to Weenie Hut Jr.'s, that place is fuckin' lit!"
"We're gonna kick this butt's ass!"
"We have absolutely NO candy and hardly ANY chips! We have NOTHING! NOTHING!!!!"
"I hear you quietly listening to metal over there."
"Why would you send me these feet shoes?"
"He's emotionally stinky."
"Are milennials killing the brunch industry?"
"One man's squick is another man's kink."
Hands press against his back, cool and tingling at his spine. Under his skin, he ached of flames, body fragile to anything stronger than a barely there touch. Ainnir sat dutifully, trying her best to aid her son in his pain, pressing as much healing energy as she could into him. He shudders, tears escaping from his eyes that he couldn’t care to wipe away anymore. Father beside him, palm gently resting against his face, trying to murmur comfort and protective words to his only son, offering only hollowed nothings. The damage was done, and the repairs were more than substantial.
Stubbornly, he sent them away. He wanted them to leave him to wallow, to wait out the end. Many tried to bring him comfort, healing, but he wanted none of it. For days, nearly weeks, he wanted only to be alone. Every time he slept, their faces, laughing and getting sick, twisted, pleasure invaded his dreams, forcing him to relive the moment, over and over and over. He always woke in a sweat, tears still streaming onto his cheeks. He couldn’t escape it. His fingers felt like ice, trying to wipe away his depression. He felt like a waste of life, simply laying there, accepting his fate.
If the Creators truly existed, they would end his suffering. But even they were not that forgiving.
Alone he slept in his tent, hardly daring to get up for more than a bathroom trip and perhaps a drink. Praying to whomever would hear him, whomever would be kind enough to take him. He heard the whispers outside his fabric walls, the worry and the pity. They were not what he wanted to listen to. They would be no help for him. The only assistance he wanted was in death. ‘Twas either death or the heads of those that hurt him. Maia had told him days ago her siblings were searching, hunting for the men. They were going to try until they had to move on again.
Sighing to himself and only himself, his fingers curled against the dagger that he kept beside him. He wanted so badly to stop his pain. His back ached, he felt violated, unable to find safety in even his most private of camps. He had nothing left. The honey words his parents whispered gave him nothing. His sister’s presence gave no comfort. The Keeper’s healing was only superficial, not truly helping him. He felt like he was on death’s door, just knocking and knocking until someone dared answer.
Tears streamed once more, his body shuddering under the fear of being touched. Pawing his eyes, the dagger gripped tightly in his other hand, he choked down a sob. He was helpless. Lost, never to be found again by the Creators. His path in life ended here.
Cold metal pressed to his wrist, though no blood trickled. He hesitated.
Don’t you want to see them die?
A soft whisper in the back of his ears. He saw nothing.
I can help you. I can bring you knowledge like you’ve never had. You can know so much more than you can imagine.
Ambrós sat up, grunting only slightly. He began to follow the whisper, the night was his cover as he quietly padded through his camp. Everyone asleep, no watches to be found.
You have been hurt, but you will be remade. You will be stronger.
The whisper led him deep into the forest. A lake unlike any he’d seen before. Had they not seen that when they settled, he wondered. Something as marvelous and clean as this would surely have been usable.
Like a bear in winter, you will hibernate. Wait out the blistering madness and wake anew.
Ravens call overhead, flying and dancing with one another. The two of them seemed to be locked in motion, unable to break out of their pattern.
They fight over who is more loyal. Who can keep the secrets from the other. They’re both wrong. They can keep no secret and hold no loyalty.
Ambrós realized who had been speaking with him. He falls to his knees, overwhelmed by the very notion.
Stand up, child. You are not going to beg before me. You are going to help me.
A wisp of energy passed through him, blue light acting as a guide. The elf rose to his feet, following it to the edge of the lake before him. Looking to the light, he hesitated once more.
How am I worthy of this?
Because you are the one I have been searching for.
But I’m not-
Step into my waters.
I-
Step. Into. My. Waters.
How serious this whisper came into his thoughts, he dared not challenge further. He reasoned that even if it was a trap, there wasn’t much else that could’ve gone worse for him. Carefully, he steps into the lake.
The water is cold, send shocks through his body. But it also felt warm. Inviting.
Come in deeper. Come below the surface. I will heal you.
Skepticism weighed heavy in his heart, but he did as told. Reaching further in to the water, diving under slowly, he waited. The clear water was unlike anything he had seen before, able to clearly look at the darkened treetops without much obstruction. Red locks flow like seaweed, the waters kneading into his aching spine.
I cannot do much, but this will ease your nerves.
Arising from the water, he felt better. His heart no longer felt heavy, his back felt cool, though the heavy scarring remained.
Now you will help me. Drink the water.
Hesitation took over once more. He didn’t falter, cupping the crystal clear water in his hands. The taste upon his lips was like honey, but something more. Sweetness, but one he’d never had before. It was simply divine.
Light traced his body, his vallaslin glowing upon his face and arms, leaving a trail up to his eyes.
“You are my vessel. I will give you knowledge like you’ve never had. In return, you will help me grow. I will return what was lost to our people.”
Now the voice was louder, in his ears and in his mouth. He felt the vibrations as if it was his own voice, his own words. Inside his very soul, he held Dirthamen. His saviour and object of devotion.
When one person has to be courageous for two, it takes its toll.
Ambrós & Reva Lavellan
OTP: Fall Back in Love Eventually
❛ I want to be comforted. I’m so tired of being strong. ❜
“I know.” Arms tremble as they weakly set around the bigger elf. Nothing was going the way they wanted, Ambrós wasn’t getting better, and Reva’s resolve in turn was wavering. It was hopeless, as one could think.
Nestled close in the nest of blankets and pillows they kept stashed on the floor above their bed, Ambrós allowed Reva to carry him up there so they could hide from invisible prying eyes. The world seemed smaller, safer, when they were in their nest. Legs furl into Reva’s lap as the taller elf moved his arms to rest around Amb’s middle, burying his face into his shoulder. Ambrós tried his best, fingers entwining weakly over the other’s as he leaned his head back to press his cheek against Reva’s.
'You’re going to be okay, fenorain.’
‘I don’t feel it, lathuil.’
Old conversations delivered in hushed whispers, a greying memory for the redhead as he meekly squeezed against Reva’s palm.
"We’re going to be okay, lathuil.“
“I don’t think so, fenorain.”
A muffled sniffle against the back of his shirt, Ambrós closed his eyes for a moment. If he could, he would have wished all their problems away. In an ideal world, they’d have solved everything. But this wasn’t an ideal world. It was far from ideal for anyone.
Exhaling with a bit of a wheeze, Amb pulled Reva’s hands off his stomach and crawled onto his knees. Straddling his thighs, lithe arms coiled around broad shoulders as he let Reva hide his face in the crook of his neck. He clung to him, fingers gripping against his shirt, fists tight on his back, afraid to let the smaller elf disappear on him. Nothing else felt real or right anymore except Ambrós. And even then, how much longer was he for this world? Every day he waned in energy, taking all he had to even sit up. If he was gone, Reva wasn’t sure what else he could do.
Ambrós & Reva Lavellan
OTP: Fall Back in Love Eventually
“There’s a demon inside you.”
“No- it.. It’s not a demon. It’s..” The word was caught as he debated the truth. Reva, though he wasn’t going to attack him, very much so had the means to.
‘Tell him, child. It’ll sate his needs.’
‘What if he doesn’t believe me?’
'He will.’
'You won’t hurt him, will you?’
'Reva will be safe.’
A quiet breath, Reva expectantly waiting for an answer.
“There’s a god inside me.”
“What?”
“…D…Dirthamen. I’m a vessel for him. He saved my life, and now I’m saving his.”
“Ambrós that’s not possible, the Creators-”
“Reva, they’re trapped. He told me everything about them. They haven’t abandoned us, they’re unable to get to us.”
It was obvious this answer wasn’t enough for him. Brows knitting togther in thought, Reva looked him over carefully.
“How long?”
“A… Um.. Shortly after I was burned. About four years now.”
“How did it happen?”
“When we were outside Wildervale, it was.. I was going to end my life, Reva. He called to me. He.. He led me to a lake; it was so clean and clear, unlike any I’ve ever seen. I went in the water and he healed me. He fixed me.”
Reva’s expression became unreadable. It wasn’t impossible, considering all that was soon to transpire in the Arbor Wilds, whatever they may find. It still seemed off to him.
“How?”
“I.. I don’t know, it was magic. He stopped me from aching. Then he told me to drink the water, so I did. A piece of him lives in me now. He’s…. He’s good, Reva. I promise.”
“What else has he told you?”
“I’ve seen what Arlathan was in my dreams, he’s shown me so much of the old days when he was free. He loved the People, Reva. Just as he loves me.”
Still skeptical, he let it drop. Research was going to be had the first chance he could get his hands on it.
Eyes glow, Ambrós frozen in his tracks. Light escaping his mouth, Reva made to move, only to be stopped before he could even lift a finger.
Ambrós & Reva Lavellan
OTP: Fall Back in Love Eventually
“I can’t wait to see you covered in the bruises I’ll mark you with.”
Bodies pressed close just outside the war room, Reva’s breath hot against his ear and jaw, Ambrós shivered. The cold stone at his back, Reva’s hand wandering to his hip and daring to venture beneath the fabric separating the both of them. Pressed roughly to the wall, Amb slid his leg around Reva, pulling him in closer against him, the taller gripping his thigh to keep him from moving away. Teeth graze his jaw, a harsh bite just before his chin, a mark was left shortly thereafter. Reva smirked, pressing his knee between Ambrós’ legs, working a soft whimper out of the trapped elf.
“They won’t recognize you when I’m done.” Mouth on his neck, his tongue ran slowly, teasingly, almost threatening in a way. The worst threat Amb faced for the moment was someone seeing them, but the thought of Reva leaving him like this was a close second. Another bite, another muffled groan into his own palm as he shut his eyes, trying to keep himself centered and his thoughts clear. A hand wanders between his legs, tongue grazing over the fresh bite mark on his neck; Reva smirked as Amb began to squirm under his touch.
“Fenorain..” A very gentle kiss at the edge of his ear, breath whisping over the redhead’s cheek, he then moved to bite against his lip. His hand plays, kneading between trembling legs, Ambrós’ whimpers of distress like music to him.
A desperate reach, Amb pulled his face close, mashing their lips together in a frantic attempt to get Reva to go further. Tongue running along his lip, twin studs pressing against teeth, begging for the tension to stop. Obliging for only a moment, Reva allowed his hunger to be sated, if only for now. It wasn’t a second more when he pulled away, leaving the shorter elf to be wanting.