werewoofs my beloved

“Eve.” A soft, low voice calls, before a man rises from a nearby booth, making his way across the room to greet her, a smile curling up the corners of his full mouth. “You came.” His eyes are a pale blue and striking in the low light, as if all the colour has been washed out of them. He’s taller than he’d appeared in his photo, broader, with high cheekbones and a prominent jaw, the strength of him evident in the shift of muscle in his arms as he extends his hand to her. His grip is firm but gentle when she takes it, the crease of his eyes warm.  “Georgi,” he introduces himself, before inclining his head towards the man watching them on the other side of the booth, his dark eyes glittering in the golden lamplight. “And this is my mate, Ilya.” Mate. She steps closer and takes the hand Ilya offers her, the dark waves of his hair framing his face falling back to reveal angled features, the dark stubble that lines his jaw, a canine flashing as he offers her a smile that is as much of an invitation as it is a threat. “Pleasure,” he murmurs, his voice soft in the hushed quiet of the bar. His eyes are sharp as he takes her in, perceptive, and she can feel the weight of his aura against hers, testing. Her magic rises to meet it, a flicker in comparison, and his smile grows. “We’ve been looking forward to meeting you.” -- unnamed novella, Georgi & Ilya @ejunkiet

did i commission the incredible @andr0leda again?

HELL YEAH I DID (link to commissions tag here!)

getting his enrichment for the day 🙂‍↕️

I genuinely can't stop thinking about these two. Help

Less normal is the part where I'm hearing voices

Ah, I see. Let me fix that for you.

The pain goes down in notches, like someone twisting a volume knob. There, that's better, isn't it? Shhh. It's all right.

The voice is quiet, whispery, tickling in the back of my mind. It doesn't have any particular gender. The way it speaks is kind, if slightly condescending.

I try to twitch my fingers. They don't. I can't move!

I apologize. The paralytic is still in effect. It will wear off shortly.

I feel like I'm going to throw up, a bad idea when I'm paralyzed on my back. My heart hammers against my ribs. What's going on? Get out! Get out of me!

There's an odd, whispery feeling of something in my body, thread-like filaments against my nerves. Shh. It's all right.

No, it isn't! How are you in my head? Get out!

The voice is calm when it speaks again, not even slightly upset or defensive. The process doesn't go backwards. It's all right, though. You're safe. I won't let anything happen to you.

I try to thrash again, but the paralysis is still in full force. My limbs won't move. I'm caught in the throes of terror, nausea and panic clawing through me.

Oh, dear. Easy, now. It's all right. I'll make it better.

The panic goes away.

Not entirely; my brain is still reeling. But my heartbeat slows. My stomach unclenches. My breathing steadies. I am, physiologically, calm.

What did you do to me?

Full image under da cut

scarlex aliens vs predator

I've always loved drawing swamps and water lillies