[m] [MaMa] spilled milk tears
#1
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WARNING: This thread contains material exceeding the general board rating of PG-13. It may contain graphic violence. Reader discretion is advised.
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Lemme know if I need to change anything! :3
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[/html] She stepped through the virgin snow, the wind tousling her pale blonde hair. Her hands were shoved in the deep pockets of her tan trench coat, and her fingers wrapped tightly around the pointy steel surprises nestled safely there. She stopped and glanced over her shoulder, wondering if the wolf would follow her or if it’d wizened up after the first of her sharp little toys had pierced its eye. Then again, knowing the restless soul that followed her, that wolf was probably in a different kind of hell now.

Shiloh hunched her shoulders and trekked onward, leaving long-strided footprints behind her, and her brow furrowed as it always did when she was deep in thought. How many months had it been since the ghoul first rose up and attached himself to her? Time seemed to pass differently now that he was around, though the days went by with agonizing slowness in the beginning—when every other word that came out of his mouth was a threat against her family. She’d bargained for their lives, and she knew they were safe and happy in Vinátta, all of them—Saul and Niernan, Lilin and Colibri, the puppies who would be half-grown by now. Still, sometimes she thought the best thing would be for her to return and protect them, she who’d since discarded her loud-colored dresses and pretenses of pride.

Or maybe she was growing too dangerous, feeding off the company she kept, his perverse desires and chaotic actions. She handled the shuriken nervously then let out a soft cry when one of the blades cut into her finger. She withdrew her hand quickly, peering at the blood welling from the dark-colored pad to creep down and stain her palm. Distaste flashed across her cerulean blue eyes, but she only pivoted and stared impatiently from whence she’d come, reaching up to brush her hair out of her face when the wind howled and smearing red across her cheek. Once upon a time, the thought of blood staining her pretty muzzle might have caused Shiloh Dawnbringer to faint.

She thought she might like it, now.

Worse, she thought she might like him.
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#2
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Yaaaay~


He had lived and died a thousand times, and a thousand souls and more would fall by his hungry fangs. There was no absolution for those he devoured. And he would never stop. Not even death could stop him, though it certainly had crippled his pace significantly. But patience was a beautiful virtue that he had much of. He had forever to reap the population. It wouldn’t be long now, before the perfect vessel was molded and born into the mortal world. And the immortal beast would be there.

There was someone new in the darkness the spirit dwelled in, and time had passed without an established answer. Such beasts as he wasn’t capable of anything good. He had been born from lava and ashes of deceased sinners, and the glorious purpose he had been made for was ridiculously simple. He was to spread misery and death. But his hunt was being drawn out now, and he couldn’t quite explain why. A hell-prince did as he pleased, but even he would eventually question things, when abnormalities rose.

There were two of them, two creatures with sweet beating hearts and moist, warm breaths. The dark shadow –for that was what he was – travelled through the shades of trees and terra, feet drumming against the young autumn floor without sound or prints. This was his world, though for now he still remained a mere shadow of what he truly was, much like the red eyes ghouls that had followed him through life before his body had rotted away. The dark creature leaped ahead until her lovely ivory could soothe those chaotic blue lanterns.

There was a light scent of blood on the wind, and the constant hunger in him leaped up to burn against his dead, transparent throat. It belonged to her. How he desired her.

”Shiloooh…”

Black daggers curled with his invisible grin. How he hungered…


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Table by Sie-Kone

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#3
I am stoopid about ghostness and what exactly he looks like now, so I was vaagueee. D: Also I'm at school so this is short -- you can has possession time now. >:3
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[/html] A cold, ethereal wind penetrated both her coats, tan leather and milky-white fur, and Shiloh knew he was finally coming. She shivered as the gale blew again, whipping her tail behind her, and knew that Hell must be a lake of ice rather than fire and brimstone. Why else would so much warmth be sucked from the air? Then again—he had to be a beast of fire and heat; it was the only way to explain how, even as her skin prickled against the late year’s chill, a warm flush could rise along her neck and set her heart to pumping oh-so-hot blood.

Her name was crooned in the voice of a demon, and the Dawnbringer found herself smiling. It wasn’t tender and happy, but it wasn’t acidic, either—rather, it could be best described as ironic and amused, and it gave her face a sultry look.

“It’s taken you long enough,” she dared to growl, pivoting again that she might catch a glimpse of his shade against the trees. If she looked hard enough, she could see them: a pair of electric blue orbs hovering in the cool darkness, such a beautiful color that by all means shouldn’t belong to him. Her own cerulean eyes narrowed against another gust of wind, and one hand fell into the warmth of her pockets again, claws playing against the small blades’ edges. The other stretched out in the monster’s direction, a single bead of blood balanced on her fingertip like morning dew.
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#4
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Meh, just a shadowy form with blue eyes, I suppose. I'm leaving it vague myself so that people are free to interpret it as they see fit 8D


Air rattled through blackened daggers as the darkened beast inhaled the echo of her scent, although it was dead in long deceased lungs. He didn’t belong in her world, and in his form of shadow and smoke, he couldn’t drink from her presence as he desired. No state of existence quite exceeded life itself. There was no shrivelled up heart pumping within his smoky chest… No tangible form that could reach over and touch her and her mortality. Yet, there was someone that could -- approaching her in an upset pace. lovely.

She sensed his presence, as always --- something that would have puzzled him once, and she dared speaking with such disrespect in the presence of a God. She didn’t realize who he was, no one ever seemed to do. It was as it should be though, for he was the eventual bringer of the apocalypse. An extended exhale crept out between ebony teeth, and deep, blue lanterns dimmed and died.

The male that for some reason had decided to stalk her was noisy and clumsy as he moved – such easy prey for a hungering spirit. It wasn’t the first time his ghostly form had invaded a body and destroyed the soul within that vessel of life. Flesh and blood and intestines boiled and burned against his nothingness as the owner of the body flailed and fought for his life. Unfortunately, he was the reaper of souls, and he didn’t know mercy.

Fallen limbs scrambled to retrieve balance as the body drew long, greedy breaths. He could taste the redness of her blood now. There was agony in this body, brought by screaming, dying nerves. A body of flesh and bone was an incredibly complex thing, and he didn’t have the time to pay attention to damage, was it prior to possession or posterior. One yellowed eye, flawed by a ring of blue about the pupil focused on the visually enchanted creature ahead of him as he used sharp optime claws for assistance to drag his body up from the wet earth, using a hulking tree for support.

How favourable this evening was becoming. He could taste the vessel’s own blood upon its tongue, so vivid and real. He could have revelled in that taste forever, had it not been for the fact that he didn’t have much time. These fleshy bodies quickly started to rot, even in cold temperatures that left the world in white. His hellfire would eventually boil up mortal innards and scorch deceased bones, and the skin would blacken and crack.

The man’s dead body started to move towards her , slowly and drunkenly, though the beast behind the seeing eye was enough to ensure that she wasn’t fortunate enough to deal with a mere drunkard. Everything about his approach was wrong. He glared at her outstretched hand, his black pupil shrinking at the drop of red dancing on her otherwise pale fingertip. It was the true beauty of such a pristine hue. The colour of crimson was never more beautiful as it blossomed against pure ivory. The possessed body cracked a sharp-toothed grin, one of a similar madness that so often had accompanied Haku Soul when he was alive.


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Table by Sie-Kone

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#5
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[/html]Most wolves with sense wouldn’t have spoken so bluntly to a demon prince, but Shiloh found herself without fear even as she stared at the shadowy form, its shape flickering just on the edge of vision. She rarely spoke her mind with those she did not trust; she allowed them instead a smooth mask or a sweet smile, a lie that distanced her from them, a pretense she’d worn for days on end. Yet the ghoul had been a part of her for long enough that she didn’t recoil from mocking him gently, from admonishing him as if he were a child late for dinner. Maybe it was suicide, but now that they had wandered so safely away from her family in Vinátta, she found herself not caring, and somehow pervertedly trusting him.

But if she was unafraid before, something cold sparked in her cerulean gaze as the specter faded from sight. She heard the heavy footsteps of the wolf she’d fought and whipped around, planting her feet in a fighter’s stance as her fingers curled neatly over the remaining shuriken—but it wasn’t needed.

An unearthly cry left the wolf, and the slender woman stepped back quickly as she watched the body contort in ways that were wrong, limbs flailing as if to fend off an attacker. The body collapsed in a heap then began to scrabble for purchase at the ground, and her eyes flew wide open as it started to lurch toward her, zombielike, bringing itself to a halt before her. She stared at its face, at eyelids sealed with crusted blood, at the other eye pulsing with a ring of ice blue.

“Haku?” Shiloh said, her voice tremulous, but rather than fear that the monster would harm her, she was afraid that the wolf would only rot away again. The crooked, sharp-toothed smile tossed her way would’ve frightened any sane wolf, but only reassured her that it was really him—no longer just a monster in the stories, the blood-letting king of her first pack, but a vividly-blue-eyed soul come back to life and touchable now.

“Haku,” the milk-and-honey she-wolf said again, more softly, and reached out to press her bloodied finger against his lips.
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#6
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--


The crooked optime body stopped before her, looming and swaying slightly as if standing on unstable ground. Everything about this world shifted and pulsed, unlike the creature that had taken control of a now dead man’s body. Dead was final, and this vessel wouldn’t serve. Eventually there would be a time for a new host of the dragon’s blood. Eris had seen it as he had seen it. It wouldn’t be long now.

But the thought of the rebirth itself wasn’t present within the hellish creature’s mind, now. Greyish ears perked at the sound of her voice, so different now when they both stood in the same dimension. A feminine voice tainted with the slight silk of smoothed softness. It took only a moment for the spirit to recognize the name she murmured. Once, it had been his. Eras had passed and he had gone by many names, both old and news. In the age of wolves, he had taken the form as the blue eyed devil. Colibri’s son had been young and tender when it had been taken, and the child had grown up to become a monster whose reputation still lived on.

Although he was a god, he too could be considered to carry flaws. Fearless and wicked creatures fascinated. Shiloh stood her ground when he’d wished her to turn and flee. The thrill of the hunt was what he feverishly craved, and she showed no sign to play the role of the wide-eyed doe. Emptiness gnawed at his core; his hunger turning carnal. She pressed her blood-spotted fingertip against his lips – he was almost taken back by her ignorance. She should be out of her skin by now, shrivelled by mind-numbing fear. Dead was never so terrible than when the spawn of the devil himself came for retrieval.

He knew what his demonic instincts demanded of him. But, patience. The dead man’s muzzle pressed against the slight touch, and he could feel his lips moistened by the reed of her blood. His tongue darted out between deadly sharp daggers to steal a taste. The taste was all he had dreamed of it to be. Still, he did not lunge to tear at her apart. ”You should fear me,” dark words growled. His seeing eye narrowed, electric blue eating away vivid honey as the previous owner's death became final and irreversible.


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Table by Sie-Kone

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#7
Sorry for the wait![html]
[/html]A tongue flickered out along her finger, and the dead man drank the drop of blood. She watched his face with a mixture of revulsion and fascination, repelled and attracted by the sparking of his eye—blue eclipsing yellow with finality.

The demon, the death-god, spoke an admonishment, and Shiloh allowed herself a smile with sharp yet unstained fangs.

“I should be,” the snowy-furred woman agreed, and the smile vanished into seriousness as her cerulean gaze washed carefully over his face. She was not quite sure what she was looking for—answers, maybe, an answer as to why she was not afraid. The spirit possessing this withering body was tainted by the pain of hundreds of individuals, hurt both directly and indirectly by his chaotic rule. He was the embodiment of the Earth’s cruelty, and yet this fact did not send her fleeing from him, fleeing to save her skin and a thousand things purer than her skin. Maybe it was her own stubbornness, her refusal to give in to the fear that so many others had—or maybe it was something more than that, something as twisted and wrong as the swaying corpse before her.

Shiloh reached out again, touching his face and the fur matted with blood. “Why aren’t I?”

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#8
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Libri is slow too, badadadaaa~~~;____; There's some pp here -- let me know if you want it changed!


He’d gone mad with his thirst while alive, and now it was all he was. Yet, dead and borrowed teeth didn’t leap to puncture the flesh he knew to be soft and moist. His seeing eye had found hers and did not stray – watched her mind work behind the loveliness of her similarly coloured eyes. Such a pristine little thing, she was, yet darkness was known to have the power even to infest light itself. She still lived, and he did not know why. Haku was easily fascinated by the shades of darkness he sporadically came upon, but her hues weren’t splendid. A prey she was; a meal so relish.

She agreed, turning her smile serious. Although he was dead, another man’s heart beat within its meaty prison; beckoning and warm with life it no longer served. Her blood thrilled senses and let the shadow creatures out to play. To possess such madness was beautiful, but instead of playing her part, the white woman would seem to become an obstacle. It would be the easiest thing in the world to end her, yet still refrained to bite the hand that fed. Torment was often a wonderful appetizer, but he had already been poisoning her life for some time now. They all wore down and broke in the end, but she resisted him still. He like that.

His focus was renewed as she moved with light touch again; going against the gravity of reason. Why would the red hooded girl pet such a sharp toothed creature without fear? The man’s own hand rose to grasp that soft pale wrist of hers, seemingly gently, though the sharp points of his claws tempted the elasticity of the soft skin beneath light cream strands of fur. He had almost forgotten how it felt to touch another living creature while attached to a physical body. Life and death were two very similar things, though vividly different. He longed for her soul, yes, but eternity was a long time, and he loathed being unnecessarily wasteful.

”Why indeed…” the madman smiled as he wondered when her composure would crack. They had all been the same, in the end. Why should the Dawnbringer be any different? He pulled at the wrist he had caught – slowly reeling in his willing captive. ”Perhaps you think you’re brave,” the man vocally wondered, allowing dark-clawed fingers to twist and puncture her lovely skin. Red blossoms were most beautiful as they bloomed through white. "Perhaps you think you're safe," though there would be no one to save her this time. What would she do then?


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Table by Sie-Kone

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#9
PP is fine. Big Grin And this shit craaaay.[html]
[/html]The woman he had met so long ago had certainly been frightened and desperate, fighting against him in what meager ways she could, such as offering herself in place of her family. She had subjected herself to his whims, and their contact had, perhaps, slowly begun to taint her. She had changed more during their time together than she even had when she journeyed alone, spurred on by the need to defend those she loved. The core of her personality hadn’t changed, then; she had been vain but she had been kind. Now, there was little left that resembled self-care (as displayed by the smudge of crimson on her ivory cheek), and there was little left that resembled kindness.

Haku grasped her wrist, but she did not let her cerulean eyes flicker down to the point of contact like she wanted. His touch was electrifying, sweet in the way that a dying wolf’s last taste of meat is sweet; she could feel the blood in the back of her throat.

Shiloh relented as he began to wonder aloud, pulling her closer to him, close enough that she could smell breath rank with death. She opened her mouth to retort as coolly as before, but suddenly stabbing pain shot up her arm as his dark talons twisted into her flesh; rivulets of blood made patterns like the veins they spilled from, dripping down from her elbow onto the cold earth. A gasping cry left her, a soft noise, but with effort she shaped it into a hollow sort of laugh.

“Oh, I’m brave,” the Dawnbringer told him, her voice falling into a growl. “But I don’t think I’m safe.” No, that was insanity, but harboring the feelings she did for such a monster was insanity as well, blue eyes or no. She guessed that there was a reason the feuding families should never breed; she who carried both the Dawnrunner and Stormbringer names, the mutt of the litter, was a product of war and death and a tryst between two wolves who should be enemies. Shiloh wondered just how afraid her father had been when he was captured by his foes.

And then, like her father must have, she leaned forward and inhaled what she knew could be her last breath, and aimed to steal a kiss.[html]
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#10
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Aight, this sucks, plus more powerplay (so let me know if it needs to be changed). And Haku is fail and can't even strangle people successfully anymore ;_;


The dead man’s hijacked ears twitched greedily at the soft cry as it escaped the female’s pretty lips. Sharp teeth flashed with instinctual response and his claws dug deeper, glistering with scarlet. As his shrunken pupil followed the rivers of red running past the paleness of her fur and fell in fat drops towards the ground, he almost regretted the flex of his claws. It was such a waste to let it all be absorbed by earth.

But her voice grasped his attention once again, and the demon tilted his head, a rumble blooming in the depths of his own throat in response to hers. Lips twisted with a smile of uncertain origin, for fools could be quick to claim bravery when what they really possessed was only stupidity. There was a terrible difference there, but she would know this soon enough. A raw cough of a laugh escaped the man at her short words of honesty though. At least she got something right.

He was surprised as she didn’t tug and pull to break his clawed cuffs. Instead she reeled in – a mistake – and the second set of claws lashed out to attach themselves on to her untouched arm. Fools and dreamers turned and fled, while heroes and villains remained. Poorly coordinated hands rose to cup her pale cheeks when she pressed her lips to his. Her blood had scented the air and drove him mad, but perhaps that was what made the difference. The desire to cut through her flesh and feast on her heart was vivid as ever, but maybe it was the fact that he refrained was what made this right – there was a reason why he’d stayed with her for all this time, without stealing her breath and murdering the soul he so lusted for.

The greed within him was insatiable, however, and this mortal body wouldn’t last. They never did – he could not re-enter her world this way. The vessel died with the host, and it was only a matter of time. Already, he could feel his fingers turn numb and dead, and the heart was following; slowly realizing it was no longer supposed to beat as there was no life.

Desperation seemed to rise in him now, for he’d only barely received a taste – and he so craved more. Stiffening fingers found her pristine throat and tightened horribly as his already poor balance could no longer fight gravity as his stolen body’s muscles withered. Eye widened terribly with newborn lethal intentions. If he could not have her in this world, then... The optime beast fell to his knees as all strength was focused on clenching the lovely pulse leaping against his constraining fingers. So close, but too late. His undamaged, brilliant blue eyes never left her face as his flesh and bone body died, and he was cast out into smoke and fire and his solitary ethereal existence once more.

And how he writhed with disappointment that he hadn’t managed to take what he wanted.


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Table by Sie-Kone

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#11
Here lemme kill me for you. 8D[html]
[/html]The muscles in her face grew taut as the corpse’s claws dug deeper into her wrist, but steadily they relaxed as the constant pain faded, heartbeat by heartbeat, into a slow manageable burn. Soft ears stirred strands of primrose hair as they perked forward to hear his sounds: a low rumbling and a sound more rasp than laugh, noises produced from the vocal cords of a stranger. It was strange to hear his voice so changed, but that thought vanished as a second dead hand joined the first in clutching at her, but she didn’t care, because her muzzle was against his cold one, her breath escaping with a heat his could never produce again.

Shiloh didn’t know what she was doing, only that she had wanted, needed to do it. She wasn’t sure what his living eye burned with—Hate? Lust? Love?—but she needed another taste of its blue flame. She drew in another breath, but his fingers crawled up her arms, twisting around the curve of her throat, and squeezed. Her eyes widened, her own hands coming up to lock around his wrists, as if to fight him off; but they only clutched, held him close, feeling the strength in his arms dying until his fingers fell away from her neck and the starbursts at her vision receded as she drank in oxygen. She whimpered and let go of his wrists, letting him fall away from her, soul separating from its useless vessel. He looked like a pit dog that had been robbed of its fight, wrenched away by its master, while she was only the pretty little bait.

Cerulean eyes stared at him, at what suggestion of an outline remained for the ghost, as her chest rose and fell with shallow breaths, recapturing the air he’d robbed from her. It was sweet and crisp with the late season, but she knew that as she continued to breathe it would lose that flavor, just become another mechanical process, inhale exhale inhale exhale. It would lose its beauty, its sharpness, and Shiloh realized that she wanted to feel that again, just one last time, because life was always the most beautiful juxtaposed with death.

The Dawnbringer looked deliberately at Haku, lifting an arm striped with blood, and set her teeth into her wrist.[html]
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#12
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So kind!


Blue embers, transparent of nature, watched the live being as her chest expanded to suck in oxygen to ensure her life remained intact. It was much too long since the last time he had devoured a living being, but he didn’t ache as much for the standard procedure as the new. Black teeth frowned at Shiloh as she let the fleshy body he temporarily had possessed fall to the ground.

The dead man had shortly feasted on one soul tonight, but it wasn’t the one he so absolutely craved. A tinge of rage, edging to a terrible form of sorrow whirled within his ethereal being; though the demon’s soul remained blacker than the black pit he had crept out of when earth was new and innocent. He had watched and waited for a long time, but there was some sense to it all now. The end would come in a glorious apocalypse of fire and death, but it wasn’t obligatory to witness the beauty of the finale in solitude.

Blue narrowed with genuine surprise as the pale woman looked to him, and pressed her own sharp teeth down to cruelly pierce her wrist. The demon drifted closer, a mere breath of a shadow within this world’s shadows, and a glorious thrill seemed to fill his non-existent body. ”Yesss…” the dead man’s voice whispered against a pale air. He was forced to watch beautiful maroon pour into the ground and stain it sharp brown and black, though a thousand memories reminded him of scent and taste. The need to feed off a departing soul was terrible and prominent, but it wasn’t what he wanted. He knew now.

”Come to me, Shhilohhh.” Oh all wonderful and terrible things he would show her. Death would merely be the beginning of the end. She had started out so sweetly, but she could see the darkness coiled up in her heart, now.


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Table by Sie-Kone

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#13
Threw up a last-second mature warning for all the bloods and death and stuff, just to be safe. xD You can close out with your post if you want and there's still time. <3[html]
[/html]Blood bubbled from her veins, and Shiloh cut again, the coppery taste hitting her tongue. Lips wrinkled away from her stained fangs as she let her arm drop, the river of red streaming down her curled fingers and splatter on the earth. She knew eventually it would dry and crust, but right now it was beautiful, a shade that clashed with the snow of her fur and the sky of her eyes. Her chest continued to heave as she felt it drain, her gaze seeking the specter again; it was harder every second to keep them open, her vision already turning black around the edges.

But, even as she went blind, she could still hear his voice: an encouraging hiss on the wind, beckoning her. She smiled a red smile, but the exhaustion overtook her and pulled her back. She felt like she was falling into down, her mind cushioned by the long sleep, even as her slender body dropped to the earth with a terrible thud, eyes staring blankly and mouth parted, face haloed by her blonde hair spread across the cold soil.

There was a pull, even then; she remembered it, her gods and ancestors calling to her, but the wolf closed her eyes and turned away. Claws sank into the earth, and she clutched, fighting, battling until she could succumb to gravity again. She felt like she were in water, her movements sluggish, her body unable to feel or taste anything but the bland supernatural that remained.

But then Shiloh became aware of his presence, menacing and oh so powerful, even in his non-corporeal form. She turned toward his shade and grinned, her ghostly paws drawing her closer, where she rubbed alongside him and crooned her demon lover’s name.[html]
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#14
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<3<333! Thanks for a fun thread! Big Grin


His shadow lurked as she died, and though there was a moment where the soul was exposed for delicious harvest, the dark spirit abstained. Scarlet glistened against her form, dead and pale. He could see her much more clearly now, as her unearthly form stirred and rose from the fleshy shell she’d been trapped in for all her life. It was wrong to fear death, for it was release and not an end. He believed her now; she had possessed some sick sense of bravery. And in return, she would be rewarded…

She didn’t know the darkness she had entered, but the choice had been hers to make, and he would be all the richer for it. Her misty paleness drifted to him, magnetically – without hesitation. Touch was different now when they were of the same world – it was something tangible and real. The demon pressed his ghostly muzzle against hers, strangely touched by her sacrifice. They had come together with hatred and famine, but she wasn’t the only one that had been devoured by something unpredictable in the process.

Blue lanterns rested on the figure of his future queen. Together, they would destroy the world. It would be glorious and terrible. The vicious ghost gestured to his love, and their forms were eventually swallowed by the lengthening shadows of twilight.


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