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vampyrsm · 3 months

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‣‣ COR UNUM: CHAPTER NINETEEN | TOYOUKE

‣‣ Synopsis: Beneath the watchful eye of the moon, the executioner of the Shogun is bathed and washed of her transgressions, her sins nothing but faint memories as she loses herself in the sensation that is love.

‣‣ Main Masterlist | AO3 ‣‣ Pairing: Sukuna x Reader ‣‣ Word Count: est. 7.6k ‣‣ Warnings: Blank blogs & Minors DNI. Dead Dove: Do Not Eat. Set in the Early-Heian Period, trueform!Sukuna, female reader, cannibalism, blood and gore, smut, no prep, creampie.

You awake to cold kisses from the snowflakes above. They flutter down from the sky as if to greet you, to welcome you home. They settle against the blood that had since dried and cracked on your battle-worn skin, melting into you as if they could solely wash away all that had transgressed in such a short amount of time.

Sukuna holds you in his arms, his own body now cloaked in a thick haori that shields him from the wind and snow. All four of his arms cradle you, tucking you beneath the fabric as well as into the warmth of his chest. You can feel each measured breath against the side of your face with each step he takes up the mountain.

That’s when you realise you recognise the mountaintops, and you recognise the leaf-stark trees that cut sharp lines through the slow-rising morning.

Home. You made it back home.

Cold fingers belonging to delicate snowflakes brush your eyelids closed once again, the gentle jostling of each step is enough to soothe you back into a dreamless sleep.

It isn’t until sometime later, or perhaps it’s only moments because you hear the loud creak of the wooden grand doors opening.

“Master Sukuna,” Uraume, another way of relief settles within you. “Welcome home.”

“Prepare our bedroom.” Sukuna talks as he continues to walk by, the deep octave of his voice rumbles against your cheek still pressed into the warm planes of his chest. It almost doesn’t feel real, to be held in his arms and carried through the temple that was now also your own—a home you could call your own, a place you felt safe in.

Another rush of cold air has you instinctively curling further into Sukuna, and he in return tightens his arms around you as if he were strong enough to ward off the natural occurrence of wind. He continues to follow a path until you feel the warmth curling up from the hotspring you had bathed in so many times before.

“I know you’re awake.” He comments, and you look up to see him glancing down at you for a moment. A rare smile on his face, as if he’s relieved too to find you back in his arms—in his home. “We both need a wash.”

Quite the understatement. You hadn’t bathed in for far too long, the ‘baths’ they gave whilst you were imprisoned were more just a cold bucket thrown over you to see who could get you to cry or plead for mercy first. You let Sukuna unfurl you from his arms, his hands still holding you delicately by your waist as you find your feet once again in the world.

You turn from Sukuna, and brace yourself for what was to come. His hands are genteel in the way they pull at the useless belt of the kimono and let it tumble to the floor. You don’t want to think about what he may see beneath all that dirt and grime, to see the true extent of your own mistakes. Because that is what it was, wasn’t it? Your own mistake. To run away like that, on a fool's errand.

The water bites viciously at your near-frozen toes, and that burn climbs higher and higher with each step you take into the spring. You can see the blood and dirt drift off away from you, to be pushed over the edge of the hot spring and forgotten in the surrounding foliage. You find yourself relishing in the pain, however, a reminder of all that had happened.

With the water now lapping at the base of your throat, you turn around to assess whether or not Sukuna is disgusted by what he must see. He remains standing where you left him, unphased by the snowflakes that settle against his skin only to be instantly melted by the warmth that he radiates. Even from the water, you can see he fights an internal battle, one that he knows is fruitless.

For everyone who hurt you is dead. All except for one, that is.

You can see the twitch of his finger, a subtle flinch in his cheek that gives away his need to chase down Sugawara and kill him. Kill him for standing idly and watching all that they did to you. It’s a war within his own mind that he’s evidently starting to lose if the way your hair stands on end at the sudden prickle of his cursed energy.

So you raise a hand from the water, still dirty from the obscenities that had occurred. Sukuna’s eyes hone in on it immediately, all four watching a single hand with the utmost attention. “Bathe with me.”

Not once does his eyes leave your hand, as if he could see the souls attached to the very hand that had been wiped away with a swipe of your blade. His hands move to remove the haori he had thrown over himself at some point, and then next go his trousers. He moves with the grace of a prowling predator, silent and deadly—even when entering the water, it’s near silent.

Your heart pounds in your chest when he approaches you. Sukuna stands close enough that you can feel his own warmth through the heat of the water, his chest moving with barely there breaths as he stares down at you along the ridge of his nose. You want to know what he’s thinking—his silence was unnerving.

The warmth of his hand is stark against the coldness of your cheek, your skin stings against the cold wind that blows through the valley between mountains. Sukuna lets his thumb roam over the blood and dirt on your face, clearing a path to see your otherwise unblemished skin beneath.

His eyes track the path he makes with his thumb, unearthing you from beneath all that grime and blood — to find the one he risked it all for. And as if he could finally see you again, truly, see you. His hand slides along your cheek and into the back of your matted hair, the claws of his fingers are careful not to scratch too harshly.

Sukuna then pulls you inwards, your face pressed to the centre of his chest where you can feel the rhythmic thump of his heart. An arm slips across your shoulders, securing you against him. And then his other two arms come across your back, one hand spanning the width of your bare side. He holds you hostage against his front, pressing you as closely as he can physically manage.

A puff of hot air ruffles the hair at the crown of your head, and then you feel the press of his nose there. He takes a deep inhale in, and you know the scent of death doesn’t bother him as he squeezes you tighter. His heart thunders faster against his chest with each deep inhale he takes, his lungs crushing against you in the viper-like grip he has on you.

Sukuna holds you like you’re his own heart, his lifeline. He holds you like you had the power to wipe away his entire world with just a flick of a wrist… and perhaps you could, you realise. Sukuna holds you with the love of a deeply devoted husband, a man who knows nothing more than to serve and protect his loved one.

His nose moves from the crown of your head, replaced with the point of his chin. You can only keep your arms wrapped around his own body, tucked beneath the second set of arms. His skin is hot beneath your fingertips, slick with the steam that continues to curl around your body. You trace over the faded silvery lines of scars you’ve come to know and recognise.

“You’re never to do that again.” He speaks in a low voice, a softened edge to it that almost goes unheard with the whistle of the wind. But you heard it, felt it in the rumble of his chest.

You don’t dare untuck yourself from his arms, so instead you nestle yourself further into his chest. His heart was just a mere few inches away. “Never.”

You’re unsure how long he holds you like that, close to his heart, close to where he shares a part of you with his very soul. But eventually, he untangles himself from you only to sit himself in the hot spring—and to bring you down with him. He settles you into his lap, the seat deep enough that the water laps just beneath your breasts.

It’s an overly intimate position to be in, yet there’s no sexual intention with it. He runs his hands over your skin to soak it, to brush away the loose dirt and whatever else may be marring your skin. His eyes never leave the trail he paints for himself with the water, always watching and observing to see if he finds a new scar or wound to grow angry over.

The cloth he procured from somewhere is gentle against your skin, he rubs harsher against the stubborn spots of dirt that had been there for some time before he soothes it over with the back of his knuckles along his fingers. It isn’t long until he’s cleaned you thoroughly enough that the air has grown lighter, the transgressions of all that had occurred to you slowly washed away.

He doesn’t fight you when you take the cloth from his own hand, instead, he relaxes against the rocky lip of the spring and allows you to take over. His skin isn’t nearly as filthy as your own, but there are still deep patches of crimson red that stain his skin and dirt that made its way into the ridges of his muscles.

“I thought you’d never come for me.” You speak for the first time since the bathing had begun, and immediately Sukuna’s eyes meet your own. “I thought you’d realise it was a trap, and that you’d leave me to die instead.”

His jaw works for a second, and you wonder if perhaps you had offended him. He remains silent as you run the cloth over his neck, wiping away the blood that had dripped there from his many meals on the battlefield. There’s not a single scratch on him, you realise, his skin is unmarked and yet he had torn through so many with his bare hands. He truly was something to behold.

“It did occur to me that it was a trap.” He admits, his words are rich with a soft tone. “But I realised that I didn’t care. I’d do anything if it meant you came back to me.”

“Anything?” You ask, wiping the cloth down one of his arms he lifts just enough for you to clean thoroughly.

“Anything.” He tucks a finger under your chin to meet your gaze. “If it meant I had to traverse a hundred—a thousand years for you. I’d do it.”

He lets your chin go at the sight of the smile on your lips, his own lips curled in a smile only reserved for you. You clean his hands, careful with the length of his claws and when you’re done — you lay a kiss on the centre of his palm. A gentle gesture that has Sukuna squeezing at your side with one of the hands he had beneath the water wrapped around you.

“And I would do the same for you.”

“I thought we just agreed that you’d never do something so reckless again.” He grumbles, all four eyes narrowed at you when you laugh in kind.

“Well, actually. We agreed that I’d never leave—” “That by default is something reckless. Don’t twist my words back on me, woman.” His fingers pinch unforgivingly at your thigh. “Leave the traversing to me.”

“And what am I to do? Be your pretty helpless wife?” You question with a raised eyebrow, the corner of your lips settled into an easy smirk. Sukuna grins at your words, his hands moving along your body carefully. One arm lines up along your spine, and another comes up to cup the curve of the back of your head.

“Pretty, yes. Helpless? Never. I’d never ask of you to be useless, I have no need for useless things.” His other hands are warm against your sides, long claws dragging possessively over what he deems as his. “No, you’re to be at my side, to rule with me.”

“I like the sound of that.” Your eyes bounce between his own, and Sukuna practically preens under your attention. His muscles flex on their own volition, and he seats you deeper into his lap—you can feel the twitch between your own thighs, and neither of you comment on it. Not yet.

“I’m sure you do. I see the difference in you, you’re no longer an honour-bound Samurai. You’re something more. Lethal without her rules and binds.” The hand at the back of your head made its way through your hair as best it could with the state it was in, his claws careful to not scrape or drag. “That’s what makes you worthy of being at my side, for eternity.”

“For eternity.” You breathe, the words brushing against his own lips. You hadn’t realised him to be so close, but then he pulled back when you sought his lips for a kiss.

“Relax for me.”

You hadn’t even realised your muscles were drawn so tightly, the ache in your back and thighs enough to tell you that you had indeed been tensed up for the entirety of your time in the water—memories that were working hard to be buried beneath the fog that lulled over your brain surface momentarily.

You see the flashing faces of your uncle and your tormentors, you can still taste the cotton rag against your lips and the burn that came with being forced to choke on the water without being submerged. It has your fingers curling tightly around his biceps, and Sukuna doesn’t flinch when his eyes drift momentarily to see that you had in fact embedded claws into his skin.

“Still your mind, you’re safe.” Sukuna coaxes you back to him, eyes of shimmering red a homing beacon for your own. His hands are gentle against your body, holding you firmly yet gently—preciously. “Breathe.”

It’s uncharacteristic the way Sukuna somehow manages to calm the raging tempest within you, how his words are gentler than most and his eyes hold a sense of worry that could only belong to that of a lover, no, more than that. Sukuna had always been more than that for you, you just hadn’t realised it until you were forced away from him.

So you breathe, you still your mind and relax carefully into his hold. It makes Sukuna relax along with you, his arms carefully relaxing their muscles when you retract your fingers from his arms. You find yourself watching him, how his expression morphs into something he must be unaware of. Because he’s looking at you like you were the one to hang the stars each night, the one who whispered in the ear of the sun to rise every morning. He’s looking at you like he’d die for you.

But you’re unable to further that thought when he leans you further backwards into the water, shifting you to sit deeper in his lap to ensure you don’t slip away. The hands on your body hold you steadfast, the water laps over your body but never submerges you. It laps just at your ears, and you try to stop the flinch of your thighs; the need to run bubbling up.

Your mind empties however when that hand at the back of your skull starts to card through your hair, as carefully as one can with long claws and fingers that were made to destroy. He works his way through the knots, through the matts that had formed from dirt and blood—he’s unperturbed when it builds against his fingers before he has to wash it away.

His fingers explore the expanse of your skull, feeling, checking—ensuring you weren’t injured in a way that was unseen. The gentle movements of his fingers against your scalp have your eyes fluttering to a half-lidded position, the stress of the last however many days, weeks, floating away with the grime that had clung to your skin.

Once Sukuna finds you to be unhurt, his hand slips from your hair to hold you at the base of your neck. A hand emerges from beneath the water, the cloth balled in his hand to wring out the excess water before he runs it delicately over your face. You feel the blood that had gathered on your lips, your chin, and your cheeks wash away with each swipe of the cloth, unmasking you from the person you had become in such a short amount of time.

A wipe of the cloth over each of your eyebrows, along the bridge of your nose. It’s such a wonder to behold; to watch Sukuna working meticulously. Something you doubt he’d do for anyone else. He brings the cloth back down along your cheek, lingering at your jaw. You watch through lidded eyes when his own naturally drift to observe your lips, wet from both the steam and the cloth he worked over your skin.

His jaw flexes beneath the tips of your fingers when you bring it up from beneath the water, you trace along the dark line of his tattoo slowly to watch him lean into your touch. He closes the gap between you before you can blink, his breath catching against your wet skin, and you drag your hand up through his hair—strands of pink that seem longer when dripping in water.

Sukuna slants his lips over your own, unwilling to waste any more time in staring. His kiss is unyielding and all-consuming, as is everything that comes hand-in-hand with Sukuna. He kisses you like he’s still angry, not at you, but at the world—as if he has no other way to convey just how he felt in the time spent apart.

His hands work to pull you up from the water, ensuring the kiss remains unbroken. Large palms press against your sides, flexing and squeezing to mould you further into his chest and subsequently deeper into his lap. He’s hard beneath the water, pressed snug up against your own unprotected centre.

When the kiss does break, you’re forced to tip your head back. His lips and teeth drag their way down along the expanse of your throat, pressing into the artery that throbs and thrums in anticipation. His sharpened teeth linger there for a second; contemplating, you think, whether he should just devour you to truly express his feelings for you.

But then he moves on, his lips move down along your skin—chasing droplets of water until he finds your collarbone. He laves his tongue over the flesh, drinking the mixture of diluted blood and water until his lips find that smattering of scar tissue where he had first bit you all those moons ago.

Sukuna hovers there for a moment, basking in your warmth. And then he bites.

It’s excruciating as the first time, and the times after that. The scar tissue gives way easier, re-moulding itself to fit those elongated canines that are so used to ripping and tearing flesh apart. He growls against your skin, a guttural sound that should fill your stomach with fear—instead you feel nothing but untamed arousal. His hands cling to your skin, claws pressing hard enough to draw blood beneath the heated water.

The sundering of flesh is loud in your ear, more of a squelch and then nothing but insufferable pain. It blossoms rapidly and burrows itself deep into your muscles and along your bones. It ricochets up into your spine until you’re forced to go rigid in Sukuna’s lap, your fingers digging harshly into his forearms where your hands had come to rest.

Your vision swims and Sukuna fills the space between black dots that dance in your vision. His chin and lips are painted in your blood, teeth grinding and working through the raw flesh he had torn from your body. You watch his lips, how his jaw works to chew through the tougher bits of fat and muscle alike—then he swallows.

His breath is warm against your lips, the stench of copper strong enough to stick to the back of your throat. His hands come up to cup your face once more, large thumbs pressing into your cheeks before he drags you forward. Sukuna presses his slippery crimson-dyed lips to your own, the tang of copper explodes against your tongue when you urge it forward to collide with his own.

You lick into his mouth, along those sharpened teeth and the roof of his mouth. You savour the taste of your own flesh, your own blood. It drives you to dig your own fingers into his skin, grasping at his neck until you’re dragging him impossibly closer. The secondary face scratches against your skin, so rough to the touch that it bites into your cheek.

When you pull back from the kiss to breathe, Sukuna looks at you with pupils blown wide. The red of his eyes practically glows with hunger, and that’s enough to drive your own insatiable darkness to surge forward and bare its teeth.

Sukuna doesn’t flinch nor reprimand you when you turn your head to the side, the thumb that was pressed into your cheek slips between your bruised and bloodied lips. He doesn’t fight when you widen your maw, canine teeth pointed and sharp. You think you can see Sukuna grin through the darkness that tints your vision—blinded by this need, this want, this desire. To devour.

Your teeth meet no resistance, his skin and bone break apart under the pressure of your jaw and teeth combined. It’s a loud crunch that you’d heard only a few hours prior with a man less worthy. Blood spills against your tongue, and spurts against the back of your throat when you sever the veins. It boils against your innards, a type of heat only capable of being harboured by someone like Sukuna.

Sukuna watches you through half-mast eyes, his gaze following the rush of blood that spills down along the column of your throat and mingles with the open wound on your neck. You hold eye contact with him when you pull back enough for him to watch your jaw work, and the bob of your throat when you force the length of his finger down your throat—

Time stills, for a long moment, or so it feels. You feel something grasp at you, tangle its dark claws with your soul and tug. Sukuna’s face blurs before you when he leans in closer, grasping at your face with an intensity you hadn’t had turned your way in a long time.

It feels like a storm has formed in the pit of your stomach, it bubbles and burns back up your chest until it scratches at your throat. You feel… power. Raw power. So different from what you had been allowed to use in tandem with the binding vow between souls; this was as if Sukuna had a physical place within you.

Then, it stops. The world resumes around you, the snowflakes from the skies above continue to melt against your heated bare shoulders and Sukuna is tilting his head in interest as he watches you come back to reality.

“Fascinating.” He mumbles, more to himself, his hand brushes over your face and you realise he’s already healed the finger back into its rightful place. Another hand presses against your neck, digging into the exposed nerve endings and severed muscles before a cool relief washes over the stinging flesh.

Hands beneath the water grasp at your waist, and the cold air bites against your bare skin. Nipples hardening against the gust of wind that battles with the billowing steam from the hot spring below, but it only lasts for a moment before you’re brought back down into the water.

You gasp, eyes rolling into the back of your skull at the sudden intrusion. The pain that should’ve accompanied being impaled on one of Sukuna’s cocks is nulled by the residual cursed energy that continues to pull together muscle and skin along your shoulder and neck. Yet the pressure remains, a snug fit no matter how many times he had fucked you previously.

You find yourself sliding your hands along his jaw, thumbs dragging on both smooth and rough skin. His lips against yours are surprisingly gentle, consuming you with a delicacy that shouldn’t come from a man like Sukuna. And yet, he delivers it to you flawlessly. Large hands expand over the expanse of your back, fingertips digging into flesh and bone until it aches under the pressure he provides.

The first rise of your hips has you both breaking apart, his lips parting in time to breathe in your breathy moan. Your arms loop themselves around his shoulders, your nails that had been torn and ripped in battle dig into his flesh when he begins to move you with a little more of a pace; a rhythm soon to be picked up effortlessly.

Sukuna presses his forehead to your own, all of his eyes focused on you. That amount of attention would’ve unnerved you so long ago, but now you preen in it. His focus is locked solely onto you, watching each and every minute twitch of your face, watching the way your pupils expand rapidly.

Watching to ensure you’re with him, mind and soul.

The length of his cock drags along the velveteen walls that continue to clench around him with each downward drag of your hips, his claws just shy of digging into your flesh when he directs you to ride him a little firmer. His chest rubs against your perked nipples, the sweat building between the two of you only worsens with the rising heat of the hot spring.

Your fingers grasp at the damp strands of hair at the base of his neck, and you pull gently. A movement that you know Sukuna could refuse, but he allows you to move his head back enough to expose the bob of his Adam's apple when he swallows thickly. He stares up at you through the thickness of his eyelashes, a smouldering gaze that burns you alive.

Your blood boils and your muscles grow taut, the way he looks at you is nothing short of hungry. Sukuna must feel what’s cresting on the horizon for you, as his hands grasp at you much tighter than before and your world twists and turns.

The stone beneath you is freezing, your back arching away in an attempt to escape the snow-covered stone edge of the hot spring Sukuna had laid you out on. Two of his hands hold you steadfast at your waist, ensuring your lower half doesn’t sink back into the water whilst he fucks you at a pace that’s bruising.

His other two hands explore your skin, large fingers pressing into your ribcage and brushing over the tip of your nipples. Your hands shoot downwards, only able to grab ahold of his forearms when he lowers his stance just slightly to fuck up into that spot he knows to exist. It’s enough to push a loud moan from somewhere deep in your chest, your head sinking back into the snow.

The sky above you continues to sprinkle you with snowflakes, melting the second they reach your dewy skin. Sukuna’s hand comes to rest between your breasts, flat against your hummingbird of a heart. It thrums harder beneath his touch, and you don’t doubt that Sukuna’s own heart hammers against his ribcage in response.

His hips continue to press against your own with each thrust, the water lapping over the edge of the spring warms your skin and fights away the cold that bites at your exposed skin. You can feel his second cock pressed between your ass cheeks, twitching with each thrust into your pussy. A wandering hand moves to press against your stomach, digging into the flesh just enough to cause discomfort—until you feel him fuck harder into you.

It quickly morphs from discomfort to blinding pleasure, your thighs tense and your toes curl relentlessly in the night air. Your nails bite into the skin of his forearms, giving you enough leverage to lift up your head and upper body to look Sukuna in the eye when he starts to fuck you in earnest.

“Cum for me,” he grunts, huffing out his words and you can’t help but admire the sheen on his face. “Now.”

The hand at your stomach swoops down, and a large thumb presses against your clit to rub quick smooth circles against it. Your entire body seizes up with the command that rolls off of his tongue so easily, and you obey. Your vision flutters away with the overwhelming sensitivity, your mouth parting in a silent moan.

Sukuna continues to fuck you through your orgasm, his fingers tighten around your waist and his claws sink into the flesh protecting your heart. The growl rumbling through his chest is morphed into a deep groan, a desperate noise that has your eyes opening once again to watch the man before you find his bliss.

His eyes are closed, head tilted back just enough to expose his throat once again and you want nothing but to sink your teeth into it. His lips part with another groan, and his breath comes out in a plume of white to mix with the frigid night sky. The cock buried deep within you twitches, once and then twice before he throws his hips forward to press himself uncomfortably against your cervix.

The thumb at your clit doesn’t stop its movement, easing you through the pressure of him spilling his seed so deep inside of you. Sukuna drops his head back down, all four of his eyes are half-lidded but they watch you intently. Lovingly. The hand at your chest releases you, brushing over the blood that started to spot your skin.

You expect him to withdraw from inside you, to clean up the mess you had made but instead, Sukuna leans forward. In this position, it forces his cock somewhat impossibly deeper inside—his cum leaking out and dripping to mix with the steamy water that continues to flow over the edge into the surrounding land.

His forehead presses against your temple, his nose pressed into your cheek. He breathes you in, deeply, uncaring for the way the sweat dappling your skin mixes with his own. Sukuna continues his way down along your body, a single kiss to your jaw, and then against the marred skin of your throat that had reformed the scar tissue there.

Finally, he comes to a stop. Hovering just a mere inch away from your chest, the blood that he had drawn from you is already dried up and sticking to your skin. His upper set of eyes flick upwards to spare you a glance before his lips graze along the centre of your chest.

Your heart lurches, a rapid beat that causes your blood to sing and the ringing in your ears to grow louder. It’s bewitching to watch. How he holds your gaze whilst his lips press against your chest—against your heart. His lips part and his tongue is hot against your skin, laving over the cuts he had left on your body in the throes of passion.

Sukuna leaves you too soon, pushing himself up to stand at his full height once again. His imposing figure cuts through the night sky, the snow that falls against him fades into nothing and the stars twinkle a little more dimly when you stare up at him.

He pulls you up easily enough, holding you to his chest when his semi-hard cock slips free from your warmth. And then he’s sinking back into the water, keeping you close enough that you can feel his breath sticking to the tacky sweat that lines your body. His hands are gentle again when he cleans you, the cloth between your legs nothing but a quick yet precise few swipes before he tends to himself.

You had expected him to hand you the cloth to return the favour, but it would seem Sukuna is more content to hold you close to him.

“Do you think I made a mistake?” You speak for the first time in what feels like an age, your words are warm against Sukuna’s chest. He doesn’t reply, instead only grunts in askance of your explanation. “Do you think I made a mistake in not killing Sugawara?”

Sukuna again does not reply, not straight away. His body is solid beneath your own, unmoving rock and you wonder if perhaps he truly does believe you a fool for letting him live. Then he releases a breath.

“No.” He admits, his voice a rumble against your ear. “I would’ve killed him, but you did something much more deserving. You cursed his entire bloodline. I admire you for it.”

His praise warms you, and you can’t stop the upturning of your lips into a smile. He didn’t think of you as the fool, an idiot who was too lenient on a man who was given the power of the Gods and refused to use it as such. “I should’ve kept his eyes.”

Sukuna laughs, and your smile grows tenfold. “They would’ve made interesting decorations. Or maybe they would’ve been a delicacy to eat, such power would taste divine.”

His words draw you back to what had happened moments before he fucked you, the power you had momentarily felt when devouring one of his fingers. It was an odd sensation, something you had never felt before. It was unlike the bond you both had vowed to one another, this was like you had eaten power in a physical form.

There was no doubt that Sukuna’s cursed energy was strong, stronger than anyone who had ever existed before him. So it wouldn’t be entirely unheard of for cursed energy to be stored in fingers, into eyes as he had mentioned. Would you have felt the surge of power if you had devoured one of Sugawara’s eyes? Perhaps the power would’ve been too much for your body to handle—if it was that easy to obtain power, more people would be killing and devouring each other.

If there was a risk of death when consuming the flesh of another with potent cursed energy, did Sukuna deem your cursed energy beneath his own where there was no risk? Or did he not care for the risk? Both questions burn in your mind, and Sukuna must’ve noticed you drifted away from the conversation as he breathes out a long breath that blows against the top of your head.

“You have questions, and you still hesitate to ask.”

“When I consumed one of your fingers, I felt this surge of energy. It was entirely different to what I felt through the vow, it was raw power. Like I was capable of breathing through you, capable of becoming you. What was that?”

The look that overtakes Sukuna’s face is that of calculation, something he doesn’t wish to share with you. “It was a risk, a gamble of life and death. It’s not unheard of for humans to become cursed objects.”

You know there’s more to his explanation, but something about the way his face becomes colder and more shut-off tells you that you shouldn’t pry further. Not right now. So you don’t push for an answer, opting to instead detangle yourself from Sukuna’s embrace.

He watches you silently, unmoving when you step around him to get out of the hotspring. His movements soon match your own, and you take a glance over your shoulder to watch the water roll off of his body. The steam curls around corded muscles and wisps around the quickly drying tips of his hair.

The warmth of your wet feet melts away the snow that had gathered on the snow path, and the crunch of Sukuna’s footsteps behind your own is loud. You come to a stop just at the edge of the courtyard, to find a pile of clothing that is clean and fresh.

An encroaching warmth presses itself against your bare back, each of his breaths pushing against your very skin until you’re forced to look back at the man imposing himself on your space. Sukuna only looks at you with an amused lift of his eyebrow, holding out a hand in expectancy.

“Your silence is loud, brooding over nothing is unfitting for someone like yourself.” He speaks once you drop the black cloth into his hand, which he unfolds to reveal loose-fitting hakama trousers. He slips them on, not once breaking eye contact with you—he’s challenging you already.

“I’m not brooding.” You retort, perhaps a little childishly, as you turn around you pick up your own haori to sling over your shoulders. Sukuna at least takes a minuscule step back to allow you to dress yourself. “If you won’t tell me the whole truth, I’ll only find it out myself.”

“Of course you will. Your determination is what sets you above others.”

“It doesn’t bother you?” You don’t take the lead through the doors, instead opting to fall into step next to Sukuna. His eyes are set forward once again, and the shadows that overtake the corridor hide his growing smirk.

“You wish for me to feed you everything like that of a baby bird? You’re no fledgling, not anymore. I prefer for you to figure things out for yourself, it turns me on to see you’re more than a brainless woman.”

Your nose wrinkles for a brief moment, lips parting to retort with how he’s nothing but a pig—but instead your feet slow to a stop.

Faintly, there’s the feeling of something creeping up the length of your spine. A warning. You turn just in time to see a shadow move, slinking closer and closer. The smell it carries is one of a strong perfume; a floral scent that could only belong to someone trying to hide their true nature. It’s enough to even have Sukuna stopping in his tracks, half-turning to watch the shadow grow closer and closer.

“I did wonder if you’d return.” Kenjaku’s words carry through the darkness until they step forward, only illuminated by the moonlight that seeps through the cracks of barely opened windows. “I thought you might’ve succumbed to their torture.”

“Kenjaku,” Sukuna grumbles her name in the form of a greeting, and you watch Kenjaku flick her eyes towards Sukuna for a brief moment before they return back to you.

“It seems our little lamb is more of a wolf in sheep’s clothing.” She grins, and nothing about it is kind. It’s conniving, her eyes filled with a glint that promises chaos. “Everyone is already talking about the carnage you rained down upon your own family—of course, they’ve already said it was someone else. Someone more… fitting, for their fable.”

“I don’t care for their hushed whispers of deceit.” You reply, even if it tastes like ash on your tongue. Replaced, in only a matter of days—assuming that’s how many days had passed since you were saved from the estate. The entire journey home you were unconscious, recovering mentally and physically from such a demanding battle.

“Don’t you?” Kenjaku takes a step closer, and Sukuna finally shifts on his feet until you can feel the warmth of his body close to your own. “I can see it in your eyes. You’re angry, beyond that, you’re the embodiment of unresolved rage and the chaos that you breathe…”

“That’s enough,” Sukuna growls the words, no doubt threatening to bare his very teeth at Kenjaku. Instead, she smiles, not paying much mind to the man who could rip her head off before she even blinked.

“Of course.” Kenjaku bows her head concedingly before her eyes flit back to meet your own. “Tomorrow, we should talk more. I’d love to know the details of how you handled that sorcerer—the one who possessed the Six Eyes.”

Sukuna doesn’t speak for you this time, instead, he waits to see if you’d give your time to the woman before you. You can’t help but feel apprehensive about it, every encounter with Kenjaku had ended poorly. She had no regard for those who were seen as the strongest, as she herself was just as strong. She was a terribly strategic woman, everything she did was for a reason.

But that was a brain you wanted to pick at. A woman such as her would know endless amounts of information, she had mentioned they were already spinning tales of what had happened — she must have her ways of learning such information across the entirety of Japan.

“Of course.” You try to smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes and Kenjaku doesn’t miss it. “Tomorrow. I look forward to hearing the stories widowers and aged men have started to spin in my image.”

Kenjaku grins this time, a fox with teeth filled with venom. “Very good.” Her attention finally drifts to Sukuna, and the look on her face is something you can’t decipher. A message perhaps, spoken without words between two violent creatures. “Enjoy the rest of your night.”

She bows deeply, before disappearing back the way she came with a feline-like grace.

You turn to find Sukuna watching where Kenjaku had slinked off to, two arms crossed over his chest whilst the other two are buried in the pockets of his hakama trousers. “Don’t let her capture you in her web.”

“How kind of you to warn me.” You muster the playful tone you need, and Sukuna only glares down at you. It’s enough to make you drop the act, he was serious about his warning. “I know she’s not who she seems to be.”

“You don’t know the half of it. Kenjaku is stronger than you realise. I may value her strength but I do not trust her, and neither should you.”

To be recognised by Sukuna for your strength was a feat in itself, he didn’t hand out the compliment freely. It had taken quite a beating for him to give you that—you wonder if Kenjaku and Sukuna had fought previously, a fight between two warring creatures that battled for the top spot on the food chain. It’s evident that Sukuna had prevailed, as Kenjaku is the one who bows her head in the presence of Sukuna.

Yet, something feels wrong with the compliment that comes from Sukuna. He knows more about her true nature, about who she is beneath the mask she slips on in his presence. He wouldn’t tell you more, it was up to you if you wished to dig further into the past of a woman who was more volatile than Sukuna himself.

Neither of you exchange a word until you’re outside a door, it slides open and you immediately realise it’s not the bedroom you had been staying in before you had ventured down to the village. Sukuna steps in first, immediately heading towards the hearth to ensure the flame doesn’t die out so soon.

You glance around, it’s not too different from the other bedroom but it is noticeable. Furniture was in different places, the clothing that had been stored in wooden storage boxes had been placed in neat piles nearing the wall. Something tingles at the base of your neck, a buzz of your spine and you turn to find your weapon. Waiting.

As if you were on a tether, you’re drawn towards it. Your hand lifts to hover just over the hilt before you pause. There are residuals along the hilt, residual energy that you know intimately. Sukuna’s.

“I had intended on bringing it to you. But whatever you had done to it, your cursed energy would revolt against my own.” Sukuna’s voice is just over your shoulder, no doubt inspecting the blade when your hand comes down to touch the hilt. “It was as if it knew I wasn’t its owner.”

“Because that’s the truth. I must’ve made a vow with it when I created it, only to be wielded by one until death. One soul, one sword.” You release the hilt before you pick it up from the display stand, taking a deep breath. The sword was of an entirely different calibre of power, it was something designed to cleave the world. “I doubt there’ll be another in existence like it.”

You step away, turning to glance around at the room bathed in a flickering orange warmth. “Did the old room suffer damage?”

“It was destroyed when I realised you were gone,” Sukuna admits easily, unashamed that in a moment of anguish, he had ruined an entire bedroom. He moves away from your side to venture towards the cushioned seats on the floor around the hearth, folding himself easily enough to lounge in it. “Uraume was not impressed by the mess.”

“How is Uraume?” You find yourself wandering towards the bed, “I can sense them, out there. But it’s muddied as if they’re trying to hide.”

“Uraume is fine. You’ll speak soon.” Sukuna offers you a glance, before directing his gaze back to the flame. “Rest, you need to recover.”

You don’t argue with him, instead stripping yourself of the haori you had been draped in. You can feel Sukuna’s gaze on you almost immediately, only sparing him a look over your shoulder before you kneel down to get into bed. The sheets are freshly washed, soft against your skin and you can’t help but melt into the material.

It felt almost unreal to be back where you were safe and comfortable, your muscles take time to relax completely. But when they do, you realise your eyelids are already closing and sleep comes for you like a swoop of darkness, unable to be stopped once it consumes you.

‣‣ Main Masterlist | Previous Chapter | Next Chapter

#dead dove do not eat #cw gore #cw dark content #cw violence #tw cannibalism #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #jjk x reader

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nethhiri · 3 months

Text

Marooned: Chapter 2

Pairing: Kid x FemReader x Killer

Warnings: nudity, vague medicine

Missed Chapter 1?

Red Menace

It took the better part of an hour to drag your new friend to the spring and another good chunk of time to tug him out of his clothes. Wet clothes were a pain in the ass to deal with in the first place, but this guy seemed to be wearing everything in a size too small, which made it worse. The clothes were now laid out in the sun, post-rinse in the spring. After exerting yourself, you felt your stomach cramp. Well... I can't do anything on an empty stomach. Fishing around in your pile of goodies, you felt the strap of the goggles you had found. Shrugging, you threw them over your head. They thumped against your chest, too big to stay on top of your head. Fishing around some more, you found one of the jars. Cracking it open, you gave Blondie a brief once-over to triage the situation. You gave the jar's contents a cautionary sniff. Oh! Spiced peaches. What a treat! Slurping back a few slices straight from the jar, you put your hand on your hip and contemplated the next step. You wiped your mouth on your shoulder before kneeling down.

Luckily, most of Blondie's injuries seemed shallow, but there was a gash in his thigh and he definitely had a head laceration. Idly, you hoped that he didn't have a skull fracture under that lac. The guy had barely twitched or made any indication he was alive. A quick look at his pupils and a cursory cranial groping gave you some relief that it was just a flesh wound. Pressing your knuckles against his sternum and rubbing earned you a grimace and a groan from him. "Hey... there you are, pal. That's great." You patted his chest. There was a sound of tearing fabric as you sacrificed a piece of your shirt to make a rag. Being in saltwater for however long definitely helped keep the wounds clean but the sand from the beach and the dirt that you may or may not have dragged him through were not exactly infection prevention. It didn't take long to clean away the dried blood and grime. Actually, it seemed like he was in better shape than you initially thought, just the two main injuries and a series of random scrapes and bruises. He probably did lose a good bit of blood though, hence his current state.

You hummed to yourself, pleased with the progress. It was strange. This feeling of giddiness. Certainly, it was because of this shake-up in your miserable island life, but it was an unfamiliar feeling nonetheless. Honestly, you didn't remember the last time you felt even a sliver of hope. How sad. It was a bit preemptive to get excited about anything. What if no one was coming for him? What if they were but they didn't want to help you? What if he died? What if he lived and murdered her? He can fucking try. That made you laugh a little. But you supposed that was really what hope was about in the first place, the potential that something good could happen. At the very least, you could be stuck here together. Maybe he was friendly. He's sure not bad to look at.

With your good eye, you appraised your work. Unfortunately, you didn't have any supplies to properly stitch Blondie up and the rag tied around his wound would have to work until you could make a trip to snag your kit. "Fantastic news, Mini. My memory has been refreshed in the dicknballs department," you mumbled, draping a leaf over him to protect his dignity. "Can you watch him for a minute while I get my things?" You looked expectantly towards a mound of brush. "Come on. Stop ignoring me. I know you're there." Sighing, "Look, I will share my peaches with you. I'm sorry I ate your melon." You stood up to leave. Mini was fairly reliable, except when you made her mad. She would probably still do what you asked this time since she was most likely just as curious about the island's newest inhabitant. His clothes will probably be dry once I get him patched up too.

It took a little too long for you to notice that the birds had gotten quiet. You were already at a disadvantage, having only one eye, and you could never use observation haki, not to mention you had been fairly pre-occupied. There was a pressure against your throat that dragged you backwards. Your hands reflexively tried to pry the...the goggles? away from your neck. What the fuck?

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM? KILLER."

The words deafened you. At the same time, the wind was knocked out of you and your feet were no longer touching the ground. Wood scratched the back of your legs. The tightness around your neck increased. Your vision probably would have been doubled for a second if it was physically possible. A few seconds went by before you realized your situation. An ogre held you by the neck against a tree.

"ARE YOU DEAF? I ASKED A QUESTION."

"If I was deaf, how would I hear you a second time?" You rasped. You may not be used to being happy or giddy, but fighting and being a total asshole was second nature. "I'm- not- a killer." It was the truth in this instance only. It was a mistake to only have one hand on you. He probably didn't expect it. The balls were everyone's disarming go-to. You kicked him as hard as you could straight in the throat. He held you high enough that it was an easy target. Instantly, you hit the floor and assumed a fighting position, removing the goggles around your neck so he couldn't get you however he got you in the first place.

He was on his hands and knees coughing. Not an ogre, but a sopping wet beast. He must have washed up in a separate place and moved before I got around to it. For the first time, you took in the man before you. You'd seen hundreds of wanted posters. "Oh, what the fuck? You're Eustass 'Captain' Kid." Which means... "Killer"... Blondie is Massacre Soldier Killer.

#I haven't written in 5 years please bear with me while I shake the rust off #one piece #massacre soldier killer #eustass kid #killer x reader #eustass kid x reader #kid x reader x killer #marooned

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kxmikomrade · 7 months

Text

🍁˖࿐ Fall for You - Akihiko Sanada

╰┈➤ Autumn Date with none other than the protein inhaler himself! Genre: Fluff!! Any gender! Waiter's Notes: My part for my LOVELY blue period enjoyer moot's Halloween/Autumn Event! @nian-7 <3 Cafe music now playing: Warm Feeling (P3P OST)

Autumn, the season of the year. Trees painted with a warm palette, weather perfect for dressing up, girls rushing to get the signature fall starbucks drink and the dried leaves build up like the feelings within you. The one that bloomed at spring when sakuras fluttered and flourished in the summer when you all had a vacation near the beach

The school bell rung, signifying the dismissal of classes for the day. The girls at the other side of the class rushed to their friends, talking about getting the Pumpkin spice latte or something along those lines. You didnt really get the appeal but maybe you should invite Yukari or Fuuka to go try it out sometime? you pondered as you close your books and carry your bag out the classroom and down the stairs where you find the familiar silver head

''Heyy'' you greet him, stepping down the last steps ''[Name]? Whats up?'' ''Wanna go check out the shrine? i wanna see the orange leaves there, i bet its pretty'' you suggest ''Hm? Alright lets-'' ''pretty like you, hehe'' you cut him off with a compliment to which his cheeks quickly bloom in red as he adverts his gaze and mutters something under his breath about being smooth. Despite having dated for some time now, he still gets flustered at the smallest things, something you hope to never really change

Taking his free hand, you walk out the school. Talking about random things, like how the other day, Koromaru dragged Ken to play with him in the pile of leaves he just gathered

''Sure, Ken's mature and reliable, but he needed to be reminded that its alright to be 'childish' and have fun sometimes. Not just him but everyone'' Akihiko states, orange and red leaves around him make him look photogenic ''Yeah! exactly, so dont strain yourself in training too much okay?'' you reply, knowing his tendency to train hard to get stronger ''Yes, i know'' ''says the one who wouldve trained asap after getting injured had Mitsuru not intervene'' you deadpanned at him Catching a falling leaf you continue, ''I admire you a lot more than you think, or how you act with people you care for, and your passion that burns you to get stronger'' you say to him. Extending your arm to him and putting the red leaf that matched his vest, behind his ear. It might not be a pretty flower, but its fine since you already had a pretty flower infront of you ''Maybe thats why i got to Fall for You''

you softly smile at him as his grey eyes tinted with a warm tone, slightly widen. Smiling warmly back at you

No words needed to be exchanged to each other since you already felt it, the warmth in your chest while the chilly autumn breeze passes by -

''Hehe, get it? because Fall for you?? Fall as in-'' ''sigh''

[486 words]

#[🍁🍂]specialorderserved!#akihiko sanada x reader #sanada akihiko x reader #persona 3 x reader #p3 x reader #p3 akihiko x reader #IM BACK BABYYYYYYYYY #maybe idk #if i wrote for p3 wat would the masterlist theme be??#thank god dis is an event work so i dont have to do that 😭

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mythicalmyles · 2 years

Note

Hello!! I hope you're having an amazing day or night and don't forget to drink water and eat some veggies🥦🥦🥕but can I request some edging, degradation, and some breeding with Eyeless jack where the reader is a detective (or maybe just a very curious being who wants to know more about him🧐🧐) that has been trying to solve ej's murder cases but while doing a few research about him the reader stumbled across ej at an abandoned hospital 👀👀

Thank ya for the request i hope u enjoii i hope ur days going amazing!

Mirror sex, breeding

(Name) threw some files across the table, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. A tired sight flew through his lips, considering on the fact he had to break into his local police office just to get the stupid files he felt incredibly stupid. So much was blacked out, half the files were rotting away.

Anger filled him, he should've just asked about the files. He felt close to giving up this time, despite the fact he had managed to close four cases so far. This one however, as much as he wanted to he couldn't walk away from. Everything that surrounded this case was borderline supernatural and he had to know what really happened that night.

Did a cult really successfully summon a demon almost as old as time was? He couldn't believe it, but at the same time his experience with one of the witnesses had him thinking otherwise. She had confirmed killing him, so how did he almost kill her and kill all of her friends? Why was she left?

To tell his story? Why would a demon care about notoriety, surely hiding in the dark would bring him more victims. (Name) shook his head, a tension headache begging to nibble at his temples. Everything about this case was so wrong.

He got up and opened one of the files, looking at the massacred people darted all over the scene. They were torn, big jagged slices running over their bodies. Horrified eyes wide filled to the brim with fear, mouths agape in terror.

_______________________

Four months later and (Name) had finally managed to fly out to the murder location, twigs snapped under his feet with every step. The forest was coated in an oppressive silence, every hair on (Names) body stood on end. He tried his best to not leap from his own skin every time a branch or leaf brushed against his body.

He had already explored the cave, finding nothing as he had expected. On google maps he had seen an abandoned hospital about a mile away from the murder scene, he doubted he'd find anything but he was already here for four days so he figured he may as well cover all basis.

He finally made it to the run down looking building, it looked like someone had tried to nuke it. Plaster and bricks everywhere. He made his way through the doorway, walking over the actual door to get in.

He stilled for a few moments once he was in the building, straining to hear anything. All that met him was silence. Glass and debris cracked under his weight as he began walking around the hospital.

He explored the first floor before carefully making his way up, almost turning back when he nearly went crashing through one of the steps. Instead he pushed on, if the worst he had to worry about was possibly crashing through a floor or two to satiate his need to know, then he would.

He came across an empty room with a single hospital bed in it, his eyebrows furrowed as the stench of blood filled his senses. He gulped as he made his way to the bed, wanting to take a look at the other side of it. He felt his heart pound in his ears as his eyes slowly moved over blood drenched sheets and to the other side of the bed, only to see nothing there.

He let out a breath, almost laughing at himself as he turned around only to let out a scream. An eyeless man was proper against the door, his chest entirely sliced open all the way down. Fear struck (Name), it was obviously old he noticed once he took a moment to breathe.

He slowly approached the body, it's grey dried out skin almost mummy like. He supposed tucked back there he would be safe from whatever elements wracked the area. He pulled some gloves out of his pockets, his nose wrinkled up at what he was about to do.

God sure as hell was going to hate him for this one, he held his breath as he searched the pockets. He found nothing until the last pocket, his mind totally focused as his hand pulled out some paper.

I'm sorry for what we've done. We were stupid to think we could control it. It's too powerful, once it see's you it's too late. God save us all. I know he's going to find me.

(Names) eyebrows shot up, well this was definitely one of the people he had been looking for. His mind combed back to the files, only two bodies were never recovered that night. One was the supposed demon another a college student called Daniel Shaforo.

Mentally (Name) sent out a prayer for the man, he stood up and dusted plaster and glass off of his knees and turned around, intent on leaving the creepy hospital.

A figure dressed in black, with a blue mask and black tears rolling down it stared back at him through the slightly smashed up window. Everything went silent for a few moments before (Name) comprehended that he needed to leave. Now.

He darted out the door, not looking back when the sound of glass being smashed filled the silence. Part of him knew it was game over if that thing really was a demon. And now it had its sights set on him, regret filled every pore of his body as his feet slammed off of the floor.

(Names) mind went blank when a loud cracking suddenly filled his ears, he barely had time to draw a breath before the floor fell out bellow him. Ringing filled his ears as he laid against the floor, covered in dust and plaster.

He rolled himself over and pushed himself up, he stood still for a moment and held his head letting out a groan of pain. He jumped when hands gripped his arms, he didn’t even have a little wiggle room. His breathing got deep and time seemed to freeze for a minute, a tongue licking up the back of his neck had him almost jumping out of his skin.

He let out a whimper as he shook in what he figured was the demons hold. “You smell so goood.” (Name) could hear the grin in his voice, his brain couldn’t think on what to do. The voice was down right terrifying, it sounded more like a growl.

“Please.” He knew it was useless to beg for his life, he’d seen the damage it could do. It flipped him around and he came face to face with a grey skinned man, his teeth were unnaturally long and sharp, there wasn’t a lick of white in his eyes. Instead they were pitch black and dripped tar, all (Name) could do was try and not piss himself as he gazed into the hallows of the monsters eyes.

It leaned towards (Names) neck and licked a strip up the column, causing him to let out a yelp. “You’d be so pretty full of cum.” (Names) eyes doubled, mouth dropping. He couldn’t deny the way his cock jumped.

Suddenly its mouth was on his, unnaturally long tongue shoving its way into his mouth. All he could do was submit as the demon took control of him. Hands ran over his back and ass, he could feel its claws scraping against his flesh. “What an easy little whore, im going to breed you up pretty boy. You wont be walking tomorrow.” (Name) whimpered in his hold but didn’t try fighting him.

“Not even gonna try fight back? How pathetic.” (Name) let out a whine that turned onto a moan as one of jacks fingers entered him, its nail slightly scraped him but he didn’t seem to mind. (Name) melted in the creatures grip, allowing it to do as it pleased. “Gonna fill you up with lots of my babies.” (Name) let out a loud groan and threw his head back.

Jacks hand gripped his ass and lifted him up, (name) quickly linking his legs behind. Jack made his way to a wall, shoving (Name) into it as his tongue explored his mouth. Needy whines left (Name) and jack ate them up.

Jack squished (Name) against the wall as he pulled his jeans down enough to free his cock. (Name) looked behind jack, noticing a mirror reflecting them both. He couldn’t deny that the sight of himself getting devoured by a demon was turning him on.

Jack ground into him and he threw his head back against the wall, eyes rolling. “Call me jack, you’ll be screaming it soon.” (Name) shook at the words, having to fight back cuming on the spot. Jack began pushing his cock into (Name), growling at the tightness that began slowly enveloping his cock.

He bit into the junction of (Names) neck and shoulder, teeth sinking deep into flesh. Jack lapped up all the blood grinning at the way his new pet just moaned and let him do as he pleased. “Such a slut.” Jack laughed before pushing his tongue back into (Names) mouth and slamming in balls deep.

(Name) screamed into his mouth and arched, pain flaring as his eyes scrunched shut. Jack wasted no time in bouncing him on his cock, skin slapping and filling the room. Jack didn’t go easy on him, quick to take everything the other could offer and more.

Jacks pace was demonic, (Names) mind long since going blank as jack abused his prostate. (Names) tongue dropped out and saliva dripped between them, running down his stomach. Jack gripped his neck and pushed him further into the wall, he realised he was looking elsewhere and he looked behind. A mirror on the wall. Jack grinned, pulling out and dropping the human.

(Name) let out a whimper and fell against Jack, jack pulled him infront of him and grinned at him in the mirror. (Names) eyes widened and he flushed bright red, barley having a moment before jack gripped his thighs and pulled them upto his chest, (Names) back resting against Jacks chest.

(Name) flushed at the sight of himself spread out in front of the mirror. “Like seeing yourself get stuffed?” Jack didnt give him a chance to answer before pushing his cock back into (Names) hole.

The sight of himself getting stuffed was enough to finally send him over the edge, his cum shooting out fast and hitting his chin. He leaned back bonelessly in Jacks hold, bouncing as he continued fucking him at an almost brutal place.

He spoke Jack’s name like a mantra, overstimulation over clocking his brain. Jack didn’t last much longer before shooting his load deep inside of (Name), his hand pressed flat against (Names) stomach, claws lightly running over his flesh.

“I just can’t let you go now.” Jack grinned, before his eyebrows jumped at (Names) response. “I dont think i mind.”

#eyeless jack x male!reader #eyeless jack x malereader #eyeleas jack x male reader #eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack #creepy pasta x reader #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta #creepypasta x male reader #creepy pasta x malereader #creepy pasta x male reader #creepy pasta x male!reader #creepy pasta #myfic

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descendantofthesparrow · 2 years

Text

Once Upon a December - The Invitation - Walter x Reader - P11

All those days chasing down a daydream, All those years living in a blur All that time never truly seeing; Things, the way they were Now she's here shining in the starlight, Now she's here suddenly I know If she's here it's crystal clear, I'm where I'm meant to go

Evie slammed on the coffin ceiling for what felt like days, but was probably only a few hours, her face dried with tears, her throat sore from her begging cries “c’mon” she whispered, using a bobby pin from her up-do to try to pry her way out of the coffin “please-please” the bobby pin snapped and Evie hissed through her teeth, tossing the broken pin to the floor of the dark coffin, hitting her head against the back “shit.”

Her eyes snapped open at the sound of someone prying open the coffin lid, her breath catching as a hand curled around the edge as the dim warm light of the cellar flooded her eyes, a dramatic change from the darkness of the coffin. She nearly screamed as Walter's face appeared, his hand covering her mouth before she could “don’t scream.” He whispered, her ears barely catching his voice “Viktoria will hear you” he waited until Evie was just-staring at him, terrified beyond logic. He slowly nodded, believing she had calmed down, and pried off the rest of the lid “okay, keep quiet-“

He let out a grunt as Evie’s foot collided with his chest, sending his body to the leaf-covered floor. “Evie-wait” he coughed, quickly getting to his feet and chasing after Evie, following her through the servants' pathways as she tried to escape. He sighed, leaning forward and picking up speed, catching Evie’s shoulder within a split second and holding her tight, one hand on her mouth and the other holding her arms to her torso

“I’m not going to hurt you, I promise.” Walter hissed into her ear, his eyes flickering about for any sign of life-or Viktoria “I didn’t drink the maid's blood,” Evie just kicked around in his grip, biting down on his palm and doing her best to get out of this situation “stop-don’t bite me-hey-hey-fuck” Walter huffed, closing his eyes as he prepared to admit something he thought he never would “-I’m Harrison.”

Evie stopped struggling, her eyes blinking rapidly in surprise and disbelief. Then she started to shake her head, closing her eyes as tears started to trail down her cheeks. Walter slowly released her mouth, then her arms, taking a wide step back as Evie slowly turned to face him “no-you can’t be” she whispered, glaring at the suddenly sheepish Walter, who was a fucking vampire who fed on the innocent and servant class-he had hurt Diya, her. You. He couldn’t be Harrison, the man you described in your few memories; to be kind, courageous, and a good man.

Walter, couldn’t be Harrison. “impossible” Evie whispered, holding her hand to her chest as she backed away from Walter, watching as his eyes cast down to the stone flooring “(y/n) would never love a monster like you” his eyes closed, as if in pain; but he nodded in agreement.

“You’re right, she wouldn’t…I wasn’t always like this” he whispered, looking down at his hands, clenching them as if they were covered in blood within his mind “I was a different person, back then…after she disappeared, I lost my way; I’ve become a monster…but-before that-I was the man she loved; I was a brother, a son…a husband…” Walter took a long shaky breath, licking his lips “I’m still one of those today, but not out of love, but of advantage; but I don’t want it anymore-not if (y/n) will give me another chance”

Evie looked into his eyes, and he looked into hers, and she could see the desperation in his ocean blue eyes; his words were true, he had been-he was-Harrison. He loved (y/n), and she had loved him-and he was helping Evie now-his words from the rehearsal dinner came back to her mind.

‘she-she left?’

‘play along’

‘I’ll explain later’

“You aren’t lying” Evie whispered, curling the chain of her necklace around her fingers as Walter-no-Harrison, nodded; sighing a bit as he rubbed the back of his neck “I am not, you told me-that (y/n) couldn’t have left-and-“ he licked his lips, it was hard to explain “it’s like I came back to life”

“Is (y/n) alive?” Evie asked, her body relaxing knowing that Walter-Harrison- wouldn't be hurting her, nor force her to marry him anymore. Harrison nodded, firmly “Yes, if she wasn’t, I wouldn’t be-my life is tied directly to hers” Evie was a bit confused at that but-the idea was kinda-romantic “I just-don’t know where she is-or what Viktoria did to her”

“She buried (y/n)” Harrison and Evie whirled around to see Lucy, her eyes teary and hands wringing together nervously, as if she expected Harrison to lash out at her for helping Viktoria hurt (y/n). “i-I don’t know where, but-she forged that note to you,” Harrison remembered the note ‘you’ left him on his letter, and face palmed; of course-how could he be so stupid “and-and she buried (y/n) somewhere, binding her to an eternal sleep” Lucy ended in a whisper, looking up at Harrison through her lashes, still expecting him to react with anger.

“Thank you for telling me the truth Lucy” Harrison muttered instead, nodding at her. Lucy smiled, her shoulders relaxing, tilting her head as Evie spoke up; “why are you helping us? I would think you would try to keep that-pact-no matter what?” Evie asked, crossing her arms as Lucy smiled with a shrug.

“(y/n)’s nice, and-she makes Walter” Lucy shook her head, correcting herself “Harrison-happy-and as one of his wives-it’s my job to make sure he’s happy, and (y/n) is what makes him happy” Harrison smiled at Lucy, walking over to her and hugging her softly, her hands going around his back and squeezing “thank you” he whispered, suddenly jumping back with his eyes wide, a spark of ‘well of course!’ in his eyes. “oh shit-oh shit!”

He dug into his pocket, taking out a wad of cash, Evie’s phone, her wallet, and passport; shoving the items into Evie’s hands and pulling her through the tunnels till they reached one of the exit doors “go-get as far as you can-and don’t look back till you’re back in New York, (y/n) will call you when this is all over.” Harrison muttered, pushing Evie towards the forest as he made his way to the path.

“Where are you going?!” Evie whisper yelled, Harrison not bothering to answer as he bolted into the darkness. She turned to Lucy, who just shrugged “I don’t know, but go-before Viktoria catches on” Lucy whispered, pushing Evie towards the forest, she slowly nodded; picking up her dress and running off the manor property, Lucy taking several deep breaths before running after Harrison.

Harrison raced down the path, his breath caught in his throat as he burst out the other side, his old home towering over him; illuminated by the moon-it almost looked threatening, as if telling him-you fuck this up, you lose this forever. Harrison swallowed, sprinting across the courtyard to the other side of the forest, running through another path that led to the mini-forest of Wych elms.

His breath stuttered as he spotted the largest wych elm, the dirt just underneath its branches disturbed and loose. He bolted towards it, falling to his knees as he dug his hands into the dirt, getting under his nails and staining his pants and shirt as he desperately tossed it aside. “c’mon, please please be here” he whispered, it had been where you were before-when he had been too much of a coward to look-it had to be where you were now-especially since it had been recovered.

Another set of hands joined his, and he looked up; seeing Lucy digging at the dirt with him. He whispered out thanks and returned to digging, cursing under his breath at how long it was taking just using their hands. “Master?” he looked up, seeing two of his butlers, Colin and Trevor if he remembered correctly, both holding shovels “We apologize, but we helped Viktoria bury her, allow us to rectify that sin” Harrison just stared, falling back on his heels as the two butlers moved towards him and began to dig-the dirt falling to the side in piles as lucy got to her feet, wiping her dirtied hands on her dress as Harrison watched with rapt attention-anxiety rushing through his veins.

“Stop” he breathed out as a bit of your skin was revealed to the moonlight; the two butlers pulled away as Harrison dropped into the grave, his hands carefully threading under your waist; his breath catching as your body pulled out of the earth, dirt falling away from your skin-catching on your lashes, hair, and bindings. “oh, my love-im so sorry” Harrison whispered, his voice catching in his throat as he cradled you against him, your head pressed against his cheek as he lifted himself out of the grave, Lucy grabbing his free arm to help him out.

He lay you across his lap, easily breaking the chains as Lucy sliced off the white ribbon; his hand cupping your dirt-covered cheek as your eyes fluttered. Harrison felt that-emptiness-completely leave him as you took a deep breath, fresh tears trailing down his cheeks as you opened your eyes, smiling as you saw your beloved Harrison “Harry” you whispered, reaching up and cupping his cheek “you came for me”

“Was there any ever doubt?” Harrison whispered out in a cracking voice, his face crumbling as you reached up with your other hand and cradled his jaw “I’ll be honest” you laughed, bumping your forehead into Harrisons as Lucy and the butlers stood and made their way back to the manor to give you the moment of privacy you deserved, a smile on all their faces “the whole-magic sleep thing, gave me pause”

Harrison shook his head, rubbing his hands up and down your arms before wrapping them completely around you “I’ll always find you, I’m sorry it took me so long last time” he whispered, sniffing as you shook your head, pulling him into a kiss.

You could taste his tears as your arms wrapped around his neck and your hands buried into his hair.

He kissed you as if you were his air, like he had been deprived of it for far too long, like a sailor reaching home. He kissed you like he had dreamed of it for hundreds of years, as if he never expected to be able to do it again unless he died. You smiled into it, feeling all the love he had for you pouring into your lips, like you were the only thing that mattered.

“I’m-I’m so sorry my love” Harrison whispered as you pulled away, lips still grazing together as you held his face tenderly, rubbing your thumb across his cheek as his hands clutched onto your clothes “I-I” his eyes closed as you squeezed his cheeks slightly, bumping your head into his “You have nothing to apologize for, at least not to me” you whispered back, pulling him into your arms and hugging him tightly, snuggling into his shoulder as his arms squeezed your waist.

“How? How can you forgive me so easily?” Harrison croaked, fresh tears streaming down his cheeks and soaking your jacket “After all I've done, the innocent people I've hurt-I thought you’d be furious?” you shook your head, running your hands through his soft hair as you squeezed his shoulders with your free arm “I will never condemn you for something I forced you to become.”

Harrison completely crumbled in your arms at that, sobs and choked cries forcing out of his throat as he collapsed in your lap, his head pressing against your gut as his hands clutched your shirt, your hands rubbing across the expanse of his back. “I would never be angry with you, only sad; because you had lost your way.”

You gently cradled his face, bringing him back up to look him in the eyes “but you found it again, all on your own; and I am, so proud of you Harrison” you whispered, closing your eyes as Harrison bumped his forehead into yours, tears still streaming down his face “I love you so much, and don’t you think for a second-I would ever stop-nothing-would ever make me stop-“ you kissed him quickly, opening your eyes as he stared into yours, his cheeks a solid pink “I killed for you, I sacrificed for you-the world ending-wouldn’t even stop me from wanting to be with you, to be yours”

You pecked his lips again, trying to reinforce in his brain that you still loved him and that he was worthy to have that love “through sadness, pain, and turmoil, I am yours Harrison Deville-through the joys and distress of life-I am forever yours” you whispered your vows, smiling as Harrison’s ears turned bright red, his misty ocean blue eyes glancing away shyly. You made him look at you again, pressing your thumb to his soft lips “I am forever yours.”

Harrison took your face and kissed you again, the kiss so full of passion-doing his best to get all the missed kisses from the last 900 years into one moment. “I love you” he whispered as he pulled away, pecking your lips between his words “I love you; I love you; I love you-I never stopped-I have loved you since the day I saw you-I will always love you.”

You giggled into his last couple of pecks, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into a strong hug, squeezing him as tight as you could as he breathed in your scent, burying his face in your neck. You sat there for a few minutes, basking in the relief of finally having each other back again, of being able to just hold each other-with no boundaries of memory loss.

“i-I think” Harrison whispered as he pulled away, lifting a silver chain from around his neck and breaking it, holding your wedding ring in the palm of his hand “this belongs to you” you smiled, shaking your head as Harrison took your left hand and gently slid the ring onto your finger, kissing your knuckles as you leaned into him.

You sat there for a little while longer, just-enjoying the other's existence. You nearly fell asleep in his lap, his hands holding you safely, one of his hands rubbing your arm as the other held your waist. All too soon, he started to stand, moving you into a bridal hold as he began to make his way back to the manor “What about Viktoria?” you asked quietly and Harrison stopped, licking his lips as his brows furrowed.

Then something clicked, and his eyes went wide “You-you made my power, right?” he asked, voice quiet with a sudden idea. You tilted your head up at him, humming for him to continue “What if-what if you could take it away?” you furrowed your brows, leaning back in his arms “But-wouldn’t-wouldn’t that kill you? The spell brought you back to life-it binds you to the earth-to me” you whispered; if you took his power away, if you broke the spell-you would lose him all over again.

He shook his head “No-not from me-from Viktoria-she has my power, your power gifted to me-you could take it right back” that spark in Harrison’s eyes appeared in yours, you could force Viktoria to be human again; as a vampire, she was dangerous-she wasn’t as powerful as Harrison-no one ever would be- especially once he had some of your blood flowing through him again-but she was still a huge threat.

If you took that away, she wouldn’t be.

But how in the fuck would you take that power back? “I don’t know more than-“ you gestured to Harrison, curling further into his arms as he walked across the castle courtyard “-you-so how do I take away her power? I don’t have any magic beyond what links to you.”

Harrison grinned down at you, his eyes flashing bright red and you huffed with a knowing smirk, mirroring his mischievous one. “You still have the book”

“I still have the book”

Harrison gently set you on the study couch, quietly running back to the door and closing it, locking it with a huff “There” he whispered, it barely registering to his own ears-which could practically hear through walls. “Okay, okay” he ran to the bookshelf nearest to his desk, pulling on the bottom hidden compartment and withdrawing the very book you had used to bring him back to life.

He sat next to you, setting the book on your lap, resting his hands gently on your shoulders as you stared at the book, hands hovering over the leather-bound cover. “Love?” Harrison whispered, leaning into your space, intertwining his fingers with yours as you grabbed his hand, breath picking up pace as you stared down at the book. “Are you okay?”

“I-I don’t know if I can open it again” you muttered, tears burning in your eyes as the intended symbol on the leather stared back at you, taunting you-those whispers and clawed hands returning. The last time you had opened it, you had killed a man, drunk his blood, something that had scarred you in a way you would never heal from.

Yes, it had brought you back your beloved, but it had also made you spill blood, blood that was flashing in and out of your vision, Solomon’s face flicking into your mind “Hey,” Harrison whispered, taking your other hand and making you look at him “you are stronger than you think my love, you did what you had to do-and…” he shrugged, chuckling a bit shyly “I might’ve looked through the book-to see if it could help me find you-but-the spells within-only a few things have sacrifices, one of which being our spell-but-the others are simple, think uh…” he pursed his lips, realizing he didn’t watch anything you would know about-modern ‘magic’.

You shook your head, pecking his lips and tucking your head into his shoulder “I get it-thank you” you whispered, closing your eyes as Harrison curled his arms around you and held you gently, kissing the top of your head “You’re welcome my love” he whispered back, watching as you opened the book, squeezing you as you took a shuddering breath-before beginning to flip through the book for the first time since that night

You had found it.

You had found the spell, the magic-to take back your power gifted. No blood sacrifices thankfully, but it would require you to build up your magic presence a bit, to which Harrison believed/said you held a lot. He had mentioned in your letters, that the witch from the blood pact felt much weaker compared to you.

You thought he was just being-Harrison, but he truly believed you were very powerful, you just had no links to other magics other than him. and so-in the dark of the study, Harrison stood across from you, his eyes alight with love and trust for you.

“Go on, you won't hurt me” he whispered, urging you to test the new-found spell on him, just to make sure you could use it on Viktoria when the time came. You took a deep breath and nodded, setting the book down and standing, holding your hands out towards Harrison, the necklace almost burning on your skin as you called upon-whatever magics you had within you.

“Necronom Hezberek Mortix” you muttered, gasping as your necklace glowed, those red glowing marks appearing once more on your body, along with red glowing magic pulling from Harrison’s body into your hands. He grunted in pain, his face scrunching slightly as his power drifted back into you.

You quickly dropped your hands, refusing to take any more power from him, you didn’t want to risk his death. You couldn’t lose him again. “Well” Harrison chuckled, rubbing his chest, soothing the small amount of pain that had accumulated there “it works” you just stared at him, crossing your arms as the marks on your body disappeared after a few moments. “Hey, hey hey” Harrison whispered, walking around the coffee table and gently holding your shoulders “you got this, you won’t hurt me-I promise, you’ll only hurt Viktoria” you shook your head, hiding the smile on your face at the thought of getting back at the horrid women.

“Where’s Evie?” you asked, having wondered about the whereabouts of your friend since you opened your eyes again. Harrison nodded towards off, towards the doors of the manor “hopefully on a plane back to New York…I couldn’t do it” he whispered, smiling as you hugged him, snuggling his face into your hair. “come-you should get some food, and some sleep-no one goes into my room-“ you pulled back, grabbing the book, flipping through the pages till you landed on eh one you found earlier.

“A barrier spell?” Harrison muttered, tilting his head at the page “It’ll allow me to basically board off your room, and the study if you wish-no one can enter without permission, nor can they hear from outside it.” you said with a sneaky smile, giggling as Harrison kissed you, a smile on his lips “Your mind works wonders my love” he whispered, taking your hand as you closed the book and followed him out of the study, being as quiet as possible to get to his room.

As soon as the door closed, you opened the book, muttering the barrier spell under your breath, jumping as you felt it quickly affect the space you were in. “Huh” you muttered, you hadn’t expected to work on the first try “Told you” Harrison laughed, wrapping his arms around your waist, his voice at a normal volume now-now that Viktoria wouldn’t be able to hear either of you while within the space of the barrier “you’re more powerful than you think” he kissed your cheek, leading you over to his bed (which had only been put in there the night before-just in case he needed to move you to his room.) “Now-what do you want to eat?” Harrison asked, pausing as you held your wrist out to him, looking at him with those eyes of yours that he had missed for too damn long. He smiled, shaking his head, grabbing your hand and pulling it down “You first my love, I can eat after you have your fill”

You rolled your eyes at him, always such the gentleman “A sandwich would be nice” you said, smiling as he nodded, walking out of the room with a bow-closing the door behind him gently as you stood and changed your dirt-ridden clothes, resting Harrison’s jacket on the laundry basket edge as the rest of your clothes went inside it.

You grabbed one of his soft-looking long-sleeved white shirts and a set of his boxers from his dresser, ridding your hair of dirt over the shower floor. soon Harrison returned with a fine-looking sandwich, taking a sharp breath at the sight of you on his bed, wearing his clothes. “Hi” you giggled, your necklace and ring glinting in the moonlight as he stared at you.

“Hi,” he whispered back, practically tripping over himself as he gave you your dinner, unable to keep his eyes off your exposed skin as you gratefully took the meal and took a bite, moaning as the wonderful taste hit your mouth. He had always made killer sandwiches, even back when there weren’t as many ingredients to one.

You looked up from the book to see his eyes on you, his breath catching every so often as his gaze trailed upon your body “You’re staring at me” you teased, giggling as his eyes snapped to yours, his cheeks flushing at your closeness “No no, you’re allowed” you laughed, giggling as Harrison rolled his eyes and kissed your exposed shoulder. “Now” you rolled up your sleeve, offering your wrist to him, smirking as he pouted a bit “you eat. You haven’t been full for nearly a millennium”

Harrison shook his head softly, gently taking your wrist and pressing his lips to your palm, trailing down until he found the pulse underneath your skin, kissing there before baring his fangs. He bit down; moaning as your blood flowed into his mouth, a power he hadn’t felt in 900 years surging through his body-revitalizing him-an energy returning to his chest-a fire within reigniting. You watched as he pulled away, your blood running down his chin and your arm, biting your lip as he licked it up, your arm practically clean when he pulled away, you took his chin; cleaning your blood from it and holding your fingers in front of his mouth-swallowing as he dutifully licked them clean.

“Harry” you whispered, falling into the sheets as Harrison hovered over you, his eyes glowing red and dilated; breathing heavily as he leaned down, almost kissing you with his bloodied lips-stained with you. “let me worship you, please” he whispered, gasping into your mouth as you pulled him into you, pressing a near desperate kiss to his lips.

“(y/n), (y/n), (y/n), (y/n), (y/n)” he said your name like a prayer, like a verse to be repeated and beloved for eternity; his lips traveled your skin- like you were something to be treasured, his hands held you-like someone worth dying for. He worshiped you, just as he asked to, unfolding you underneath him, his head buried in your neck as his hips rolled into yours, hands on your skin-burning his love into you, remnants of your blood caressing your skin.

He bit into the curve of your neck as you both came; marking you as his, kissing you deeply as you basked in the glow; the moonlight being your witness to your re-ignited love. “I love you; I love you; I love you.”

“I love you too, Harrison Deville”

-end of part 11-

YEEEEEE THEY’RE BACK TOGETHER YALL!!! HOW’D YOU LIKE IT?? DID I DO GOOD??!?! i hope i did good, i was kicking my feet during the last half of it ehehehe

perm Walter/Tommy taglist!

@thetrueghostqueen @littlewierdalien

OUAD taglist!

@anti-herosprettybby @hofficoffi @miniaturehideoutmentality

@disneyfan50 @reallysparklychaos @reallystressedhoneybee

@rebellbelle @libbymouse @soulsfrostedheart18

@zane2408 @austynparksandpizza @tati-the-fangirl

@habblez-the-babblez @lyre-online

#Walter Deville x reader #the invitation 2022 #Walter Deville #once upon a december #implied sex #blood drinking #buried alive #lucy deserves better #Evie deserves better

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lukabitch · 1 year

Note

Could I get a executioner x killer male reader fic with the reader confessing that he likes him and then them getting into a relationship?

Aw this is going to be so cute! Sorry if this is short I’m still getting used to writing for Pyramid Head. Thank you for the request Anon! :)

You were really nervous about doing this. Confessions were hard enough but confessing to a killer? That’s even harder to do.

It was quieter than usual in the woods. There’s usually a lot of talking that you could hear from both campsites. Maybe it was for the better it was quiet. You have noticed that Pyramid Head preferred to be off by himself. You think he doesn’t really like the other killers.

You were stumbling around trying to find the spot he would frequent. Your foot had got caught on a tree root and you fell face down. The dragging sound of metal was all that filled your ears.

Looking up from where you had fell left you with a sight to see. He was towering over you he looked very intimidating at this angle.

“Oh I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to disturb you. Well not like this.” You pushed yourself off the ground brushing the dirt off. “While I’m here I might as well.” You nervousness was clear to the monster before you. He took his hand and brushed a dried leaf out of your hand. This small act left you at a loss for words.

He saw that your intentions were pure. You didn’t need judgment cast down upon you. He took a step closer to you the leaves crunching underneath. You quickly shake your head snapping out of your shock. “There’s something I need to tell you.” His head tilted to the side with curiosity. You took this as a sign he was listening.

Taking a deep breath you collected your thoughts. “I like you a lot and was hoping that we could go on a date?” You lost your confidence about this. All the negative thoughts you have about confessing reared it’s ugly head.

Suddenly you felt arms rapped around your waist picking you up. Your cheek was placed against the cold metal of his head. “Does that mean yes?” He gave you a gentle squeeze which made you giggle a bit.

“You’re really cute you know that.” He made a strange noise in response.

#dbd #dbd killer #dead by daylight #dbd x male reader #request #pyramid head #dbd pyramid head #he’s just a little meow meow #I might have messed up a bit #really sorry anon :(

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sery-chan-13 · 29 days

Text

Your Girl?

Ch.8 of “My Sunshine” [Treechxreader]

Warnings: cursing and that’s about it tbh 😭

Sejanus left you at your house, and you quickly ran to shower. Your father was out on business so it was quiet.

The hot water felt like heaven on your skin. You scrubbed the dried blood and dirt from your face, washing your hair.

“Sunshine~”

Your eyes shot open and you pulled back the curtain, expecting to see the one person you longed for outside.

“Oh great I’m going insane… ugh I hate this,” you mumbled.

Once you finished your everything shower, you stepped out, grabbing a fluffy green towel. It was your favorite color. It was everywhere without being overwhelming. Your curtains and bed spread were dark green. You had, albeit crudely, drawn some leaves on the window frame.

You dried yourself off, and put some vanilla scented lotion on yourself.

After, you slipped on your robe, doing your hair.

Deciding it was too much trouble to actually style it too much, you left it in its natural (curly, wavy straight) state.

You grabbed a dress out of your closet, not wanting to go in your academy rouges. Of course, a dark green dress with a flared skirt. At the bottom was small little leaf and bird embroidery. The top was a sweetheart neckline and it had puffy poet sleeves. Perfect.

You slipped it on. It reached your knees, so it was an appropriate length for the occasion. Not formal, but also not inappropriately short. If you were going elsewhere… like when you and Sejanus snuck to one of the bars in town… you would wear a shorter dress.

You smiled reminiscing about the stupid memory. You refused to drink, but Sejanus had one sip of beer and threw it up.

Finally being dressed, you applied some lip gloss and smiled at your reflection. Absolutely stunning if you did say so yourself. You looked at the time and cursed.

You had about 40 minutes. It would take you 15 to get there. You huffed, spraying some vanilla and lavender perfume, put on some flats, and took a pair of heels in your hand.

When you got there, you saw the tributes were either talking with their mentors or held by a peacekeeper. You looked in the dark backstage until your eyes landed on him.

You speedily walked over, showing your student ID to the guard before taking him to the back in a corner.

“He-“

“Are you alright? I’m sorry I couldn’t go see you sooner, I heard about the vet how fucking stupid, you got stitches did it-“

“Hey, I’m ok. Calm down,” he whispered, his hands squeezing your shoulders.

You looked down. Tonight would be the last night you got before the games.

It hadn’t really sunk in that your best friend wasn’t in the Capitol for a vacation or a visit. He was here because his name was drawn in the reaping to play in the Hunger Games. A ‘game’ where kids killed other kids in order to survive.

Tears filled your eyes. Through the darkness of the backstage, he could still see your tears.

“Hey, don’t cry. You’ll mess up that pretty face of yours,” he joked, wiping your tears. “You have to help me win the Capitol over tonight, and I can’t do that if people think I make you cry now can I?”

You sat down on a chair and nodded.

“Everyone is doing something different. Some are going to show off how powerful their tributes are. Some how dangerous. Some, like Wovey’s mentor, are going for the feelings angle. We will see what Flickerman sets us up with,” you explained, drying off your tears again.

You began to take your flats off, and were about to put your heels on, before they were taken out of your hands.

“Hey what gives-“

“Let me do this. Please,” he mumbled as he kneeled down on the floor in front of you.

This was so so different than all those times he had offered to tie your shoes when you were kids.

—-

“I’ll help you,” he said with a grin.

You sat on the swing, and pouted. While you appreciated his help, the utter embarrassment of not knowing how to tie your shoes at six was enough to make you hate it.

“You don’t have to be upset about it. We can all do different things. You can read big books, I can tie shoes. You help me read, I help you tie,” he said with the biggest smile you had ever seen.

Although he was a good reader, he’d rather have you read to him.

You launched yourself off of the swing and hugged him.

“Thank you.”

——

“Sunshine, please?”

How could you say no to those pretty begging eyes?

“Fine…” you said, trying to hide the blush that had just taken over your face.

He gently grabbed your leg, softly pulling the heels onto your foot. He fixed the strap, and smiled up at you.

“There…. All done,” he whispered.

You looked down at him and felt your face burning up even more. Now would be a great time to say-

“Alright people, places, we are live in two minutes!”

You groaned.

Treech laughed, and stood up, offering his hand, which you happily took.

Most of the tributes had talked up their skills with weapons. The younger one of course, were played up as being sweet. Lamina went out with Pup, and you were left in the wings. His hand found yours and squeezed it nervously.

“Well, Lamina, I’m sure we are all wondering… after Treech left you for the pack, how did you feel?” Flickerman asked.

You felt Treech look down. He felt guilty.

“Well… I…”

“She was hurt, betrayed, and just so distraught. Wouldn’t stop crying.”

Lamina looked to Pup with confusion written all over her face as if that wasn’t what they had talked about.

“He’s tryin’ to make you look bad. You’re already a Capitol favorite…” you whispered.

The rest of the two minutes went by quickly and you were brought on stage. You both sat on the plush couch and you smiled at the audience then at Cesar Flickerman.

“Well hello there Ms. (L/N), Treech. Now, I wish I could ask all about you, but you only have two minutes, so, the question that has been burning in the Capitol’s mind is: do you have a girl back home? A special sweetheart?”

Treech looked to the audience and slightly glanced at you.

“Well… no. I mean, she ain’t at home, but she wishes she were. And she’s not mine… yet. I mean, there’s not much I can do but hope that I can get back. Even in the games, she’ll be my lucky charm,” he said pulling out the necklace with your grandmother’s ring on it, sort of showing it off. “But I… I hope that I can get back to my sunshine. I’d crawl home to her if that’s what it took,” he said.

The crowd awed and gasped.

“Wait, she isn’t back home, but wishes she were? What does that mean? Where is she?”

“She’s… right here,” he responded, looking down at you, his hand finding yours.

Your eyes widened as you looked up at him.

The crowd gasped, a murmuring beginning to spread through them.

“Well ladies and gentlemen that’s all the time we have for these two. I really wish I could chat more, but off the stage you go!”

You shook Cesar’s hand and left.

Treech was behind you, and when you were off stage you wanted to talk to him.

Had he meant all that? Or was it just playing it up to the Capitol?

You tried to find him, but then noticed only the mentors remained back stage.

“Tributes got taken back to the zoo as soon as they got off the stage,” Sejanus whispered to you.

You jumped at hearing his voice. Even though his tribute was missing, running through the streets of the Capitol, he was still here.

You let out a sigh of relief.

“Told ya he was head over heels for you,” Sejanus laughed.

The rest of the tributes went and it was finally the last one. Lucy Gray.

She and Coriolanus stepped onto the stage. Her cheeks and lips looked decorated, and her rainbow dress was even more bright. She had a beautiful wooden guitar in her arms.

You looked at Coriolanus and saw what he had done. After the bombing, Tigress and him must have washed the dress. Then her lips and cheeks must have had some of Tigress’s rouge. You recognized the shade.

He was extremely smart.

Lucy Gray stepped up to the microphone and began to play her guitar and sing.

By the end of her song you were in tears, leaning on Sejanus.

The crowd cheered wildly, people were crying and everything.

You ran to her as she got off stage before the peacekeepers could get her.

“Oh Lucy Gray that was just… beautiful,” you sniffled, grabbing her hands.

“You really think so?” She asked with a small smile.

“Of course.”

——

It was late into the night when you sneaked into the zoo.

There was not many peacekeepers at this time of night. And those who were there fell asleep.

You crouched down next to the bars and whispered his name.

His head shot up and he looked around before coming over to the bars, his hands grabbing yours. They were warm compared to yours. You were always cold.

“Treech I-… I need to ask ya somethin’…” you stammered out. You didn’t know what would be worse. Him saying he was just playing it up or him saying he was serious.

“Go right ahead sunshine,” he whispered.

“Everythin’ you said tonight…. Did you mean it? Or was it just for show? Because I… I can’t live with this secret anymore. I’ve loved you since we were kids, it just took me way too long to realize it, and I can’t keep writing stupid love poems and letters you’ll never see… So… did you mean it?” You whispered, looking into him eyes with a blush on your face.

“Of course I meant it. I wouldn’t lie to you sunshine. I’ve loved you since we first met… obviously that was puppy love but I-i… couldn’t ever get you out of my head,” he whispered back, one of his hands gently grabbing your face to make you look at him. “I mean, when I told you not to come that one night? It was because I was jealous of Sejanus… the way he touched you…but he told me you didn’t shut up about me… and yeah I guess I’ve always been jealous, but I couldn’t say anything… but yeah. It’s all true. All of it,” he rambled, his eyes looking down towards your lips and back to your eyes.

Your face felt so hot you were sure your blush was visible.

He leaned in and stopped just before your lips met his.

“Is this alright with you?” He asked softly.

You nodded and pulled him in.

“Needy thing ain’t you? Still haven’t learned to be patient?” He teased.

“Oh for- shut up and kiss me,” you hissed.

“Your wish is my command darlin’…” he mumbled before pressing his lips against yours.

His lips were slightly chapped, a contrast to your smooth lips with cherry gloss on them. He couldn’t get enough. Your lips were sweet and soft. And you tasted so sweet, he couldn’t get enough, you would have him addicted to you just from one kiss.

But he slowly pulled away. You looked up at him and smiled, a hand going to cup his cheek. He leaned into it.

“Come back to me… please, I need you,” you whispered, leaning your head on the bars.

He did the same.

“I will… but there’s no place for me here in the Capitol. I’ll have to go back home.”

“I’ll go with you,” you said quickly.

“Sunshine, I’d never ask that you leave what you have here-“

“I have nothin’ here. Sej and Coryo? Father’s barely home and Ma is barely human anymore. Sej and Coryo can visit. I will go home with you.”

He looked in shock as you said that.

“If that’s what you want… I’d be thrilled,” he mumbled with a smile.

“Then it’s settled. I’m goin’ back home with you when you win,” you whispered.

You pressed your lips against his softly once more.

“Yeah… I’m gettin out of there because I have years of kisses to catch up on…” he mumbled against your lips.

You heard some of the guards stirring and got up.

“Good luck, I’ll be watching every second. You won’t die.”

He smiled and gave your hand a kiss before you slipped off into the dark night.

#×reader #fluff #treech tbosas #treech x reader #coriolanus snow #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #jealous boyyyy #finally #I just realized I only write friends to lovers 😭#idc it’s cute

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taleofturtleclan · 7 months

Text

MOON 7

Spindlepaw trotted towards the adults den that most of the survivors shared, a spring in her step. It felt good to be up early, before the camp was bustling with activity. The air felt fresher, somehow, at this early hour. Usually, Foam was the one to come and wake her up, but today she had beaten him to it. He liked to begin her training early so that they could finish early enough to return to camp and bask in the warmth of the Leaf-fall sun before it fell too far. She enjoyed the early finish to training, but the early start had been difficult to get used to. A little thrill went through her at being the one to prod Foam awake this morning. See how he liked a paw in the side.

Spindlepaw slid around the striped, granite boulder that shielded most of the entrance. She loved the rough texture of the rock on her thin fur, and she shivered with pleasure as she felt a knot in her fur tug free at the sensation.

As her eyes adjusted to the dark of the den, Spindlepaw felt her gaze pulled to the opposite face of the striped boulder, where she knew a few dried, clay paw prints were scattered. The survivors had started calling this rock the Passage Boulder- every cat that graduated to full adult status in the group left their pawprint on the inner face when they moved into this den. One day soon, her pawprint would join the others on the mighty rock. She knew just where she would put it, too- right next to Currentheart’s mark.

Spindlepaw pulled her eyes away from the Passage Boulder. She wouldn’t ever get to leave her mark there if she didn’t complete her training, first, and that started with waking Foam. She didn’t have to search far for her mentor. He made his nest near the entrance of the den, his large body blocking most of the wind and rain for the other cats further inside.

Spindle raised a paw to give Foam a wicked jab in his side, and froze as a sour scent hit the roof of her mouth. Something was wrong. She narrowed her eyes, peering closer at her mentor’s sleeping form. The brown and white tabby’s fur was unkempt, sticking up at odd angles. Even without the strange scent, that would have been enough for Spindlepaw to know that something was wrong. Foam’s fur was never a mess. He took great pride in keeping his long fur well groomed and sleek, combing out any tangles from the day before he went to sleep.

“Foam?” Spindlepaw’s quiet mew trembled a little at the end. What was going on?

The brown and white heap of fur shifted, and Foam’s head appeared from over his shoulder, eyes dull. “Spindlepaw,” he rasped, “I’ll be–” his words broke off into a coughing fit. “I’ll be out soon,” he gasped when the fit finally ended. “I just need a moment.”

Spindlepaw felt the fur on her tail starting to bush. Her mentor was clearly unwell. “Foam, are you alright?”

“I’m fine,” he coughed, “I just didn’t sleep well last night, that’s–” another coughing fit cut him off.

Spindlepaw’s ears pinned back, her eyes growing wide as she drew away from the clearly sick cat. “I’m going to get Dustjump,” she meowed firmly.

“I don’t need Dustjump, I’m feeling fine–”

“What’s going on here?” Tidechaser’s deep mew cut into the conversation. “Can’t you two take this outside? You’re going to wake the whole den.”

“I think Foam is sick,” Spindlepaw meowed frantically.

The large tom leaned over from his nest to sniff at Foam’s pelt. He recoiled with a hiss. “I smell greencough!” he growled.

“Greencough? Is-is that bad?” Spindlepaw meowed. But she didn’t need an answer. The expression on Tidechaser’s face told her all she needed to know

“Fetch Dustjump. Now.”

Spindlepaw took off across camp without another word.

Spindlepaw paced back and forth outside of Dustjump’s den. As soon as she’d seen Foam, the old tabby molly had enlisted Tidechaser’s help in moving the sick cat into her den, away from the rest of the healthy cats. When Spindle had tried to follow them in, Tidechaser had barred her way.

“Stay back,” the pale tom had growled. “You can’t help here.”

Spindlepaw had wanted to protest, wanted to tell Tidechaser that he was her mentor, that she should be in there with him, but she knew that the tom would never be swayed by her pleas. Besides, a small voice in her mind whispered, he’s right. And so she paced, waiting for news of her mentor’s health.

When Dustjump finally emerged from the den, Spindlepaw was on her in a heartbeat. “How is he? Is he going to be alright?”

Dustjump’s eyes were dark with worry. “I don’t know, Spindlepaw,” she admitted. “It’s very early in the season for greencough, but that’s what he has. It can be fatal if it isn’t treated.”

“But you can treat him, right?” Spindlepaw heard her voice crack with fear. She couldn’t lose Foam, not now. He was the cat that had saved her from the sinking ship, the cat that had taught her everything she knew, the cat who represented everything Spindlepaw hoped to someday be.

“With the right herbs,” Dustjump meowed carefully, “I can help him along the path to recovery. But nothing is certain.”

It wasn’t a promise, but it would have to do. Spindlepaw steeled herself, forcing her fur to lay flat. Foam had saved her life, once. Now it was her turn to save his. “Then what are we waiting for?” she meowed firmly. “Let’s go find some herbs.”

#warrior cats #warriorcats #turtleclan #warrior cats oc #warriors #clangen #clan generator #clan gen #dustjump #spindlepaw #foamfeather #Moon 7

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redheadspark · 2 years

Note

For your Autumn Prompt:

“what are you doing?” - “making a leaf angel.” & coffee date. With Oliver Wood

A/N: YAS! I love me a Oliver Wood Prompt! Thanks Stella!!

Leaf Angel

Summary: Autumn, in your opinion, was the best time of year at Hogwarts. Your quidditch loving boyfriend felt the same too

Warnings: Nothing but fluff :)

Autumn. You loved that season.

In your opinion, it was the best season. As soon as you saw the leaves turning in the different shades of orange and red, and your felt the first sensations of a crisp morning against you cheek as you would head to class, you knew Autumn had arrived at Hogwarts. No more hiding under the trees to escape the heat, no more sweating against your forehead and getting bug bites all along your arms.

Nope. Autumn made everything better.

Everything about Autumn was amazing and thrilling. Apple Cider drinks for dinner at the Great Hall, pumpkins the size of a muggle car outside of Hagrid's cottage, and the sweet scent of fresh maple syrup on the table during breakfast to glaze over the pumpkin pancakes that were one of Helga Hufflepuff's oldest recipes.

Your boyfriend also loved Autumn, but for another reason.

"Aye! The first day of Quidditch season!" Oliver said in pride as you both strolled into breakfast one Monday morning, one of his arm was cradling a thick folder that had plays and stategies that he made up over the summer holiday, when he wasn't with you of course. He made sure to leave Quidditch at his home when he would come to visit you throughout the summer, although you never minded since you were a fan yourself. He claimed one day that you were going to fraternize with the enemy if you saw his plays he was conducting.

"First of all, I have no intentions in stealing your plays to my house," You reasoned with Oliver as you two sat together under one massive tree outside your home, Oliver's head in your lap as he was reading a Quidditch book and you were reading a Divinations book, "An plus....Hufflepuff is quite decent this year,"

"You're gonna go against ya boyfriend for your own house?" Oliver asked in a huff as you giggled and rang some fingers in his short brown hair, "Merlin's Beard, you're a minx!"

"House Pride trumps all," You said coyly, thought Oliver poked your side. So it was very safe to say that Oliver loved, craved, the first days of quidditch season when it came through Hogwarts.

One week into Autumn and the leaves were falling everywhere outside of the castle grounds, making it look like a beautiful moving painting that could be seen amongst the gallery within the school. You strolled though one afternoon, Oliver was off at practice and was neatly done before he would meet you for an evening date in Hogsmeade. It was nice to be 6 years and getting a special invitation into the little town since your marks were high, both Oliver and yourself were on good graces with McGonagall and Sprout, and it was your last "normal" year.

So that evening the 6th years were going to have Hogsmeade to themselves for a few hours. The perfect time for a date together.

You found a particular large pile of leaves right outside the opening to the courtyard, making you pause and see it just sitting there unattended. It made you pause, literally pause in your step as you saw the large formation of leaves sitting there. For some reason, you thought back to when you were a child and you jumped in the same kind of leaf pile that you father would make when he would rake the leaves outside your little home.

"Look, daddy!" You screeched as you jumped into the pile, shrieking in delight as your were engulfed with the dried out leaves and your dad was laughing in the distance.

"Watch out, Little Bean! I'll come get ya!" He would tease you, fishing you out to make you giggle and tickling you under the setting sun.

So for Oliver Wood to see you playing in the leaves, walking up along the walkway with his Quidditch bag over his shoulder and a amused look on his face as you were moving your hands and legs back and forth with a massive grin on your, he was beyond amused. He stopped right in front of you, seeing a grin plastered on your face as the sun was making your skin lightly glow in both euphoria and joy.

"What a sight to see," He hummed, you pausing and leaning up a bit on your elbows as he gestured you and the leaves around you, "What are you doin'?"

"Making a leaf angel," You hummed back in reply, Oliver raising an eyebrow at you, "You've never made an leaf angel? What about a snow angel?"

"Should I know what those things are?" Oliver asked in merely curiosity as you giggled and fell back into the leaf pile again. It felt like nothing terrible would touch you, nor would any kind of bad news when you were doing as simple and as childish as making a "leaf angel" It reminded you of home, a place of safety and great memories that you shred with your little family.

Sometimes you did miss them when Autumn came through, remembering all those times when you were very little having chilly morning wrapped in a thick blanket your mother would knit for you. Or helping your dad rake the leaves in the late afternoon before you both would jump in them. You did miss your mom and dad, even in that moment.

"I would do this with my dad all the time," You confessed, picturing your father in your head. You shared the same shade of hair, the same nose, and the small snort in laughter. Oliver knew of your father well, talking to him plenty of times when he would visit about Quidditch since your father was a huge fan like him. He even took you and Oliver to a pro game when you tow started dating a year ago, thinking it was a good ice breaker for him and Oliver to get to know each other.

"I can picture that actually," Oliver said in amusement, making you one your eyes and grin at him as Oliver held out a hand for you to take. You took it, Oliver hoisting you up with ease and wrapping you in his arms before you could fall over your boots. You wrapped your arms around his neck, getting gyro own sense of gravity as Oliver was taking in the sight of you, chuckling as he pointed to your hair with his one spare hand, "The leaves in ya hair makes ya look like an Leaf Angel for sure,"

"Why thank you, Wood," You replied back in a laugh Oliver taking out a few leaves from your hair with his fingers, "You still up for tonight?"

"You kiddin'? I've been lookin' forward to it for weeks," He replied smoothly, kissing you on the lips as you both started to walk hand in hand back into the courtyard, "I think I need something to wake me up, this practice was a nightmare with the new team mates,"

"Let's get a coffee then," You explained, Oliver nodding in agreement, "I know we can get some in Honeydukes and in The Three Broomsticks since it'll be a dry bar for us. Coffee does sound nice tonight,"

"Alright, here we are," Oliver hummed as he placed a coffee cup in front of you, sitting in your regular booth at the Three Broomsticks. The place was pretty deserted, since the rest of the 6th years were at the shops or filling up their bags with sweets, leaving only a few students to mingle about and get their own drink to warm themselves up. You and Oliver already got your fill of candy from Honeydukes, you then getting a few things for your folks to send home for the holidays, and now you were ending your time with a hot cup of coffee between the pair of you.

"Thank you, Oli," You thanked him, pecking his cheek. He was about to drink it when you stoped him suddenly, "Wait! You need the special ingredient in this!"

"What is it?" Oliver asked, not following. You took out your wand, tapping it two times against the rim of his coffee. Specks of cinnamon appeared out of thin air into his foam of his coffee cup, Oliver grinning widely as you did the same with your, "Try it. You'll love it,"

Oliver hesitantly took a sip, you waiting in anticipation as his face lit up with glee from the taste on his lips and on his tongue. He hummed, taking in another drink before placing his cup on his saucer, "That is good,"

"It's one of my favorite drinks when it's Autumn," you explained, leaning into Oliver as you took a drink of your own coffee. You felt Oliver's arm around your shoulders, his head against yours as Madam Rosemerta enchanted a fire to start int he fireplace right next to the pair of you.

"Whenever I think of Autumn I think of ya," He confessed, you blushing a bit as he kept talking, "As much as I love startin' quidditch in the Autumn season again, it's you that makes this season beyond memorable,"

Hearing that from Oliver made your heart swell, making you look over at him and kiss him soundly as you two were hidden in the darkness of the room in your booth. You would crave Autumn over and over again for as long as you loved, having so many memories of that season that brought you joy and genuine happiness.

This new one, snogging Oliver in your favorite booth in The Three Broomsticks with cinnamon on your lips, was going to be remembered for certain.

The End.

September Prompts

#oliver wood x reader #oliver wood prompts #oliver wood fanfiction #oliver wood x female reader #fanfiction #writing #harry potter writing #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom #sean biggerstaff

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eveenstar · 2 years

Text

𝔒𝔫𝔠𝔢 𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔯𝔢 𝔴𝔞𝔰 𝔶𝔬𝔲, 𝔪𝔢, 𝔞𝔫𝔡 𝔲𝔰 || 𝔖𝔦𝔫𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔖𝔱𝔯𝔞𝔫𝔤𝔢 𝔵 𝔣𝔢𝔪!𝔯𝔢𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔯||

𝐸𝑃𝐼𝐿𝑂𝐺𝑈𝐸: 𝐺𝐸𝑁𝐸𝑆𝐼𝑆

𝔖𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: Sinister Strange's fairytale comes to an end in a gruesome battle against undead spirits that had come to collect him.

𝔗𝔞𝔤𝔰/𝔚𝔞𝔯𝔫𝔦𝔫𝔤𝔰: Main character death. Brief suicidal thoughts. Angst.

𝔗𝔞𝔤𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱: @paola-carter @levitationcloak @heartwoundd @ghost-lantern @dopeqff @dragonqueen89 @cereneciderr @weirdhorrorenthusiast @fadedeuphoria @yuugenmomo @slut-for-eddie-munson @catherinewind05 @kiahthehuffinpuff12 @severuined @singhfae @justsomecreaturewandering @lovecleastrange @queenofspades6 @sherlux @marcelin3 @fire-treasure-iii @freshmoneyalmondathlete @sweet0pia-uwu @sanctumsanctorumshenanigans @nancy-thompsons @kuboshu1 @mylovelyreblogs @uncle-eggy @dishwasher666 @andrewswifes-blog @darealbellabelleoftheball @jekyllhydetrash @sonnensplitter @isasv @d0ct0rstrangewife @strangelockd @evelynrosestuff

ɑ/ɳ: Our 'fairytale' has come to an end. Thank you for accompanying 'Once there was you, me, and us' and I hope you all enjoyed!

"I was afraid to let you go, Strange," The sorceress looked back at him with a hand holding the wave of undead spirits, "because I thought you needed me to stay you," a single tear fell down her cheek, "but I realized that you need yourself,"

Sinister Strange held her free arm to try, in despair, to pull her back, but her cold skin burned him and he had no choice but to fall back, "I didn't want this to happen!"

(Y/N) smiled, kindly, she knew he was speaking the truth, but a grieving heart can only bear so much, "I know, my love. I treasure you so much," She tried to remain strong through the pain of the undead clawing at her arm, pulling her deeper and deeper to the Sanctum's flames. Strange shouted, and tried, and tried to hold her back but his powers were immune to (Y/N)'s. "Stephen, you must promise me that you won't fall again," he leaned into her hand that caressed his cheek lovingly, "Do it for you," she leaned closer to him, almost ripping her arm apart, but it was worth one last kiss, "for me," their lips touched, so soft and frail like a leaf touching the calm river's waters, "and for us"

The flames engulfed her like a dress of fire and ash as the undead souls screamed in a pain only magical fire could cause. The windows exploded like a fire dragon had made the Sanctum it's new home. Strange had to take several steps behind to not get caught by it, as he shouted after her until his voice was gone, like she was, again.

Strange fell to his knees, hands grasping at the dried grass as a wailed cry escaped his lips. His mended heart shattered in a million pieces, he felt like he was going to die at any second - Stephen couldn't breath, or find the will to cry any longer. It was like someone had pierced his heart and let the knife there; twisting and twisting until there was nothing left to bleed.

He felt like this hadn't been a second chance after all, just the universe laughing in his face for everything he's done.

How much could he take of this? Stephen looked at his hands, dried with blood. He had promised her; but she was dead, and he...he could rejoin her, not using the Darkhold this time, no, it should be in a more swift way, before her voice faded from his mind.

It's not like Stephen thinks he doesn't deserve to live; he doesn't, and he knows that, but the thought of being alive felt so much brighter and positive with (Y/N) around and now, now there wasn't much to hold on to. Just ashes of the dreams he burned. If he couldn't burn a thousand stars to be temporary with her, why be temporary by himself? She was no longer around to anchor him, he could finally...breath.

A shady, misty red portal opened behind Stephen as he prepared himself to cast a "one time" spell, right towards his heart, as he stared at the burning Sanctum. A figure stepped forward.

"Stephen Strange?"

Strange turned around in alert, and was met with none other than the Scarlet Witch herself - (Y/N)'s last plan.

#sinister strange x reader #dark!doctor strange #dark!doctor strange x reader #marvel #dark!marvel #marvel fanfic series

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liquid-beepers · 8 months

Text

Michael Myers x NB!reader pt. 2

(Warning! Kidnapping, dark themes, and Michael being Michael. I tried something new and I don’t know if I like it.)

go read part one!

Your head throbbed, and your vision was fuzzy. You could barely remember what happened up to this moment. You felt rubbing against your wrists. It was rope. It scratched your wrists raw. It looked like your legs were bound by rope too. Your throat felt dry and cottony from the cloth gag that was tied tightly around your mouth. You wanted to scream, but you couldn’t.

Your eyes started tearing up, ‘Is this the end?” you thought. Soon you heard heavy footsteps from down the hall, you started shaking. You didn’t know where you were, you were hurt, and you were probably about to be killed.

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you heard the door swing open violently, you saw a hulking figure in the doorway. He breathing was heavy and labored under a mask. His mask was white and had no eyes. The face looked like an actor you knew, but you couldn’t think of his name at the moment.

You scooted back from the man in the doorway as he stepped closer, your breath was shaky and shallow. The man's boots were heavy and they made the floorboards shake with every step he took. When he was close he stopped and looked at you, he cocked his head to the side and slowly crouched.

Your muscles tensed as he crouched down. The light of the moon glinted in his eyes as he looked at you. The man was so close to you that you could feel the heat coming off of his body.

'Is this the murderer I've been hearing about on the news lately?' You thought as he checked the ropes to see if they had loosened. His hands were rough and calloused and felt grimy, like some thick substance dried on his hands.

You looked to your left and saw a window, you suddenly felt a spark of hope. You sat and waited until the man was gone and his footsteps were no more. Then, you wriggled out of your restraints, you thankfully had enough strength to do the ropes on your hands but not your legs just yet.

You started carefully scooting to the window, once you got there you looked out of the window best as you could. It looked like you were only a block away from your home, you recognized this street. You walked down this street almost every day to get to school. You took a sharp breath in as soon as you looked at the yard, you were in the old Myers home.

You scooted back to where you were and started to untie and loosen the ropes and cloth that bound your legs and mouth. Once you got them loosened, you tugged the ropes off of your legs and took a breath of relief and brushed yourself off slightly and stood up. You carefully made your way towards the hallway, your footsteps creaking lightly across the floorboards. You were shaking like a leaf with every step.

You stopped in your tracks when you heard footsteps downstairs, your breath caught in your throat as you tried to find a place to hide. The thumping sounds of boots sounded so loud in your ears as you scrambled to a dark corner.

The footsteps started getting closer, louder, heavier. Your skin got clammy and your eyes started watering.

please don’t find me, please don’t find me... you thought over and over again.

You looked up slightly. It was Micheal Myers, you had seen a police sketch of him on the news. He was the boy who had killed his sister in this house way back in the day. He had escaped the local asylum somewhat recently, no one knew where he had went. It turns out that he had come home.

With his mask in hand, he looked around for you. You shifted your weight slightly and the floorboards creaked loudly, Michael’s head quickly snapped toward you. You jumped and tried to gun it to the stairs, but before you could even fully run, Michael grabbed you and slung you over his shoulder. His body tensed as you wriggled in his grasp.

All you could think about was what was next in store for you as Michael walked over to another room.

You hissed in pain as Michael plopped you down on the floor, you realized you had hurt your ankle at some point when running from Michael. You wondered how long you had this injury for, it throbbed and looked extremely swollen. You tried to move your foot to see if you could, but you winced at the intense pain that ran throughout your leg.

Michael watched as you moved uncomfortably on the floor and tilted his head. Then he looked at your ankle, for some reason, at that moment he felt some sort of pity for the poor person in front of him.

He slowly went down stairs and got some medical supplies he had for himself for after he went out. He went back upstairs then back into the room you were in and awkwardly handed you the supplies.

you looked up at him, “Are these...bandages?” You asked hesitantly in confusion.

He nodded in reply and silently watched you as you started caring for your ankle.

After you had tended to your ankle, you relaxed slightly, pondering why Michael of all people would help you like that.

When you finally had enough courage speak you asked, “Why? Why would you help me after all you did?” you knew it was a stupid question, but you just had to know.

Michael looked into your eyes from within his mask’s black, sunken in-looking eye holes and shrugged. You were disappointed about the lack of answer but, it was to be expected.

Michael headed out of the room again and brought back a pillow. He gently took your foot and propped it up on the pillow for some elevation. He brushed his thumb over your ankle slightly and walked out of the room again, this time going elsewhere, leaving you by yourself.

All you could think was, ‘What the hell.’

#slasher #slasher fanfiction #slasher fic #slasher fandom #michael myers #halloween 1978 #x reader #michael myers x you #okay-ish fic MY GOD THIS TOOK SO LONG TO WRITE AND PUBLISH IM SO SORRY GUYS

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eekwinn · 11 months

Text

The Bucket Metaphor & Reset Days

This is a more detailed version of a comment I often leave on autism-related subreddits about how to manage your energy. With reddit having a blackout that could last longer, I felt it needed to be cross-posted on Tumblr. Reblogs are welcomed and encouraged. Original post on reddit. An audio version by u/LouDaisyLou is also available here.

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The Bucket Metaphor & Reset Days

Some people use the metaphor of "spoons" to give an idea of how much energy they have during a day but I prefer to look at my energy based on a bucket. The bucket metaphor and reset days go hand in hand. One is used to describe the input you receive during the day and the other the physical aspect of lowering the level in the metaphorical bucket.

The bucket has a small plug hole at the bottom and is plugged when you are awake. Everything is poured into that bucket - chores, errands, work, school, socializing, conversations, phone calls, anxiety, depression, injury, sensory input, last minute plan changes, blood sugar level, medication side effects, hormones, sleep, hunger, hydration, etc. When the bucket overflows, that's when an autistic meltdown happens. It can be going non-verbal, crying, shutting down, anger, or violent stimming, whatever a meltdown means to you. Having a meltdown creates more things that go into the bucket at the same time it overflows.

The plug is removed when sleeping, which often doesn't empty the bucket all the way, so waking up with a partially or mostly full bucket means you spend all day knowing that the overflow will happen which in turn creates anxiety that also goes into the bucket. Even things that happen in the night can be filling the bucket at the same time, like it being too hot, a leaf-blower at dawn below your window, or a stuffy nose.

Alone time when awake can also pull the plug a little bit and let the bucket drain a dribble, but often that alone time can end up being scrolling the internet or doing household related chores. Having a reset day is how to pull the bucket’s plug all the way while awake. Reset days require coordination with your household if you’re able to plan them in advance, although sometimes they need to happen with very little notice. They may take an afternoon, a whole day, or a weekend. Regularly scheduled reset days can also be helpful when the necessities of life fill your bucket quickly. The point of a reset day is to make your body comfortable so you brain can relax. This means staying in the moment and comfortable.

Find an alternate way to communicate with your household or other people who can help you rather than relying on verbal communication with other people. Texting is a great way to do it without having to be face to face, or only answering yes/no questions to limit the amount of talking you do. Let your household know that you’ll ask for the help you need and that they don’t need to bother you when you’re making a cup of tea or gathering a plate of snacks in the kitchen. They can also then be aware about their noise level or be able to take other responsibilities off your plate that day. I find that not speaking to other people helps me reset because that means one less thing I have to focus on (although speaking to my pets doesn’t seem to be a problem). Often, I can gauge how much more of a reset day I need based on how much conversation I feel like having. If you live alone, this step is much, much easier.

Start by getting your body clean, hydrated, and fed. Take a shower or bath and brush your teeth. Have a warm drink and a cool drink with you. Eat some basic foods that don’t take effort - you don't have to make a sandwich, just eat the cheese, bread, and meat straight while leaning again the counter; you don't have to chop up a salad, just eat the vegetables as you stand in the kitchen waiting for water to boil for tea. Staples from the pantry are always good to have on hand, like nuts, dried fruit, crackers, and good quality chocolate.

Make a room that can be comfortable for you to rest and stay occupied. Put fresh sheets on your bed or cozy blankets on the sofa. Push the things on the floor against the walls so that you have space to move safely – deal with what is in the piles on another day. Get any dirty dishes soaking in the sink – wash them tomorrow – and dirty laundry into the laundry basket. Wear comfortable, clean clothing. Make the lighting and temperature comfortable, even if that means closing curtains and putting scarves over lampshades on a beautiful day. A fan in the next room can help block sounds. Let your senses be comfortable (smells, lighting, textures, sounds) so that your brain can shut off.

Now that your brain is quieting down and your body is comfortable you have to stay physically occupied. Using your phone to text for support is fine but otherwise do not open apps or check the news. If keeping your phone across the room is too hard, log out of social media apps or uninstall them all together. Do Not Disturb is a good feature as well. If a weird little question is thought of, don’t research it right there. Instead, write the question down – you can check it tomorrow.

Staying in the moment is hard but necessary. Some suggestions are: sorting a puzzle, reading a book, yoga or stretching, organizing your sock drawer, folding laundry, dance to some music videos, doodling, trim and file your nails, redress your doll collection, organize your bookshelves, listen to a podcast, or watch something that requires subtitles.

If your mind starts to wander, switch to something else but keep bringing it back to being in the moment. You can even combine playing quiet music and mute the video with subtitles to keep you reading, not just listening. I really like Meditative Mind (https://www.youtube.com/@meditativemind) for relaxing background sounds and my favorite English subtitle-only YouTube channels is Martin's Vids (https://www.youtube.com/@MartinsVidsDotNet), about Disney theme park rides. All of these are just my personal experience with ways of pulling the plug on my bucket. You may have other things that keep you in the moment and shut your brain off that do not include endlessly scrolling on the internet. Social media is made to engage and enrage – that is the opposite of emptying your bucket.

It may take hours before you feel like speaking with anyone again or it may be the next morning, and that is okay. Still do your nighttime hygiene routine and go to bed at your regular time (or slightly earlier) knowing that the next day will be one where the level in your bucket is much, much lower.

The awareness of where your bucket level is can also be a great gauge every day for deciding what spontaneous things you can do or when you might be ready for bed, no matter the time on the clock. I often use the short hand of “I’m done for the day” or “My bucket is nearly full” to tell my household that it is time for me to be done interacting with them and that any household responsibilities will need to be theirs that evening.

Whether your visualize the bucket being filled by liquids, sand and stones, or stars and galaxies is up to you. This metaphor works for me and I hope it works for you too.

#autism #autistic #actually autistic #reference #spoons #spoon theory #spoonie #sensory overload #stimming #stim #autism resource #autism powers #autism positivity #autism posting #neurodiversity #bucket metaphor #reset day #reset days

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writing-in-mermish · 1 month

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The Elf of the Rose

So in the prettiest rose on the rose tree (I thought they were bushes but, whatever) lives an invisibly small elf (also very pretty though that seems rather unimportant). He lives a pretty charmed life in his pretty rose house in the pretty garden where the rose tree grows.

One day he decides to take a long ass walk on the vein of a leaf to count his steps (man was ahead of his time), but because he is the littlest of guys (invisibly so) and started to late in the day, night hits before he gets half way. Things are cold and the roses are closed, he is having a bad time. But he recalls an arbor with honeysuckle (which cannot close up) and plans to go there to sleep.

On his way he overhears to love birds (humans to be precise) complain the the girl's brother hates her beau and is making him go away for business. The girl is hella dramatic and cries and kisses a rose so hard it opens up before she passes it to her lover.

The elf said to himself

and ventures inside to rest. But this dumb lover's heart is beating so damn hard our littlest guy cannot sleep! Also, he (like his sweetheart) keeps violently mackn’ on this rose.

Judgy brother shows up, lookin’ gloomy and wicked as hell, and fuckin’ stabs the fool to death while he’s kissing the rose. He cuts off his head and buries the body and head under the linden tree (brutal). He conveniently explains that this was his plan all along, because everyone would assume he died or disappeared on his business trip and then his sister would move on (absolutely unhinged behavior).

Bro accidentally brings the littlest guy with him in a dried linden leaf on his hat, who is horrified and angy at this situation. They get to bro’s house early in the morn, which gives him the time to go creepily laugh over his sister (dreaming about her boo) like a freak and accidentally deposit the leaf on the window sill.

Our littlest guy goes to the girl while she sleeps with all his indignation and spills the beans and tells her if she thinks she’s simply dreaming a linden leaf will be on her bed as a sign when she wakes.

She sees and believes and is gut wrenched with no one to talk to. The elf sees the window is open but is too invested to leave, so he parks himself in the monthly rose bush (so this one's a bush, what's the difference?) in the window.

Bro keeps coming by without a glimmer of guilt, so when night rolls around she goes to investigate and finds her lover and considers pulling a Juliet, but instead chooses to take up man’s severed head, clean him off and kiss his dead lips (that’s some gothic ass shit if I’ve ever heard it) and then. Takes. Him. Home. (and some jasmine too)

Then she got a big old pot and hid his head inside and planted said jasmine. The elf felt like this was enough sadness for him and dipped, only to find that his rosebush was withered, leaving him melancholy as hell.

He found a new rose to live in but kept coming back to home girl's room, watching her waste away, seemingly giving her life force to her jasmine plant through her tears and kisses.

Her bro told her not to be so weird, not understanding why she cared so much about this stupid plant (her lovers head was rotting inside).

Our littlest guy takes pity on her sleeping one day and pulls up to talk about more positive things from his life, in hopes of improving her dreams. And it did, as she dreamed of her lover. And the jasmine grieved with her the only way it knew how, by blooming beautifully.

Her bro got weirdly possessive of the plant and stole it to put in his room by his bed (I am both sensing a pattern of concerning behavior and some dark irony here).

The elf decides this is the time to spill the tea to the new flower spirits who say "we already know. We are born of this tea. It came installed." Our boy didn't understand how they could be so calm about it, so he told the gossip to the bees, who responded much more satisfyingly by telling their queen, who decided the proper response was to murder the lout.

But before they could, gothic girly dies and that night the jasmine spirits armed with poison go to whisper nightmares in the murderers ears and stab his mouth with poison, claiming their revenge for the dead.

Our littlest guy, the queen bee, and bee army rush over the next morning, only to find people hanging around claiming the scent of the jasmine killed him (oddly not that far off). The elf figures out what happened and explaines to the queen, who instructs her army to tend to the plant.

The humans, not understanding, want to get rid of the bees and have some poor sap remove the plant, which inspires one bee to sting, causing the man to drop the pot and reveal the lover's skull, which in turn reveals the murder to all.

The bees rejoiced and sang of the flowers and the elf for taking revenge and uncovering a murderous plot.

TLDR: an invisible flower elf uncovers a murder of a girl's lover by her brother. He gives her the deets to find his body, retrieve his head, and bring it home to plant jasmine on top of.

She is sad, her brother's mad and steals her bloomed pot of jasmine away. Elf spills the tea to the flowers (who already be knowing) and then bees, who want to murder.

Sister dies, flowers take revenge, bees and elf come by and see some people at the aftermath. Bees sting some dude for removing flowers, revealing skull which tips humans off to the plot, bees rejoice and praise the jasmine and elf for their good deeds.

#the elf of the rose #was written by (to no one's surprise)#hans christian andersen #man was moody as hell #and loved to anthropomorphise #especially plants #fairy tales summarized #retelling references #this story haunts me #i need others to know about it #i feel like the little elf #i just have to spread this hot goss #if the queue fits

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emmondsokolov · 4 months

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The key turned in its lock, shifting the simple, yet intricate mechanisms inside until they clicked into place. Once settled, the door slowly shifted open, bit by bit, until there was enough of a gap for a dark eye to peer through and check the surroundings. Upon seeing no immediate signs of anyone inside the apartment, the man let go of his breath and pushed the door open enough to slip himself through and close and lock it again behind himself. Paranoia had already long since sunk it's claws into Marloix, only now he had just a little more clarity on the situation. It seems his worst fears could be put to bed at least.

The elezen frowned down at the flyer in his grip. He recognised the hand behind that crude drawing of what could only be an unfortunate likeness of himself. "Still alive Old Chap," he muttered as he crossed the small apartment to drop the page onto the desk, and reached into his deep pockets to find his flask, swiftly unscrewing the cap and taking a deep swig. He could feel it burn on the way down, and a faint acrid, metallic lingering edge on his tongue, yet he did not wince. Marloix had already long since dulled himself to the taste and sensation, he needed this more to calm his nerves and stop his trembling hands from getting worse.

Seemed his roommate wasn't in right now, though he had already told them much of his woes, it was still a relief to have some privacy to process this. His head was spinning as he deflated into the thick, plush armchair behind the desk. He felt dizzy and it vaguely crossed his mind that he should probably find something to eat. He couldn't remember the last time he ate anything. He took another sip. It didn't matter, he had more important things to do. Eating could wait.

That Young Ryker boy… He had gotten too careless around them, sending letters so willingly as he had, only to be used as a stepping stone for the boy to reach Godefroy first. And after he had been so cautious in the beginning too.

"Should have trusted my gut about you after all," Marloix grumbled, taking yet another sip before opening the drawer of the desk and taking out his ink, quill, and notebook. "Tch, not that it matters what happens to the old coot, as far as all things are concerned he was already gone. Mm. But It would be a shame to see anything happen to him I suppose."

In truth he had all but given up on trying to find Sir Godefroy, all of the information from his sources turned out to be either false, or led to dead ends, and even sometimes more troubling information that he didn't know how to process… And besides, having a consistent gardening job for once had kept him busy and distracted, there was hardly time to think about writing letters any more.

Gods he missed the work. It was hard work but he had found himself actually… Content with his work. Perhaps even happy. Or perhaps it was simply the company of his employer he enjoyed. Marloix's eyes turned to the flyer once more while he absentmindedly leafed through the pages of his notebook to a blank page. His employer had returned from his trip alive and well. And not only was he alive, but searching for him. Seemed it was time he risked a peek back home.

Still, it was deeply concerning that the Behemoth was handing these flyers out, it could all be merely a trap but… He had to take a look into the house, at least.

A dried alyssum flower slipped out of the back page, which gave him pause in his train of thought. His employer had given that to him as a small token in their last letter, after very vaguely explaining their absence and what terrible fate should happen if Marloix lingered too long in the house after they might perish during their journey. Gently, and with a lot of care, he slipped the delicate flower back into its place between the back pages, and turned his mind back to the task at hand with yet another sip of burning alcohol. "And he's not the only one still alive. Or looking for me it seems." He picked up the quill and, with a trembling hand, began to write. 'Dear barkeep,

Its been a while. You gave everyone here quite the fright with your absence you know. And to my delight I hear you gave a rightly deserved kick up the arse of that Young Ryker and knocked some sense into him.

You will forgive my caution, a lot has been happening lately and I find it hard to believe you could really be back, now of all times. I can't trust it really is you, so perhaps you could put my mind at ease if you would be so kind.

A certain poetic line may have been exchanged between us once before, if you would recall that for me, I would be most appreciative.

Regards, Your Humble Patron, if you would still have me.' Once the ink was dry Marloix tore out the page, crumbled some dried lavender and cloves he plucked from his pockets over it, and folded the letter up. Now all that was left was to find a delivery moogle and pray this wasn't all just some elaborate trap that he had just played right into.

#m://marloix #//ffxivau #//whats this?? something IC for once??

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deadxlv · 5 months

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Far Away Soul, White Cold Star 💫

Chapter: 12 “A Mystery, A Sickness, What..Am..I?!”

Shriveled the world felt, a trauma never heard of before could be settled by one's soft kiss of misfortune- a blessing? Trees still sang their songs of life by the wind blowing past their leaves, Far off from the small hint of seawater from far away..carried in the wind travels. Yet, in my amazement, she stood there..although unsure, what's a saving grace needed when white beady dead eyes watch your every move. Is this place truly what it seems? Could we have been wrong in our doings.. wish only for the travels ahead to grace us with peace at last..for we have already paid the ultimate price. Death.. and Resurrection...

The smell of mahogany, the taste of blood in my mouth, and the pressure on my cheek.. wait, where am I?! Thought Hijìn as he slowly awoke after being brutally pounded into the ground as if he was a mosquito who got a taste of your blood in your arm. A strong planting of his hands on the ground made the noise buzzing around his dizzy head stop amidst his slow rise, the weight lifted, Hijìn would rub his eyes from all the dirt and dust..not noticing the dried dirty blood stains under his eyes at all. Dazed at all he could see, Hijìn would fall back against a tree only to feel two small hands touch his chest and pulse a strange warm feeling into him, his eyesight recovered and his scratches mended he would smile and mutter. "Thsank.. yo.. Kÿr'u..". He got no response from the same voice he's heard the whole time, the feeling stopped and as he moved his hair from his eyes all he saw was this strange entity with their hands on his body.

A shout of shock and fear rumbled the forest causing small animals to fly off into the distance, their wings making soft puttering noises as they passed overhead, but on the other hand- Hijìn was nearly halfway up a tree panting like a madman who has just seen Jesus. "H-hey hey.. I Uhm.. I don't mean any harm I just.. healed you.." said the feminine figure slightly smiling as she watched the tall human cower in a tree. Hijìn had dug his whole hand into the tree to not fall down quickly looking around in a panic to try and find Kÿr, he was about to shout before he turned to his right and saw the cat crouched down on his shoulder looking at him with an unsurprised face. "Dude you can relax she poses no real threat.." Kÿr said with a thumbs up to the feminine entity below. "Come down.. let's just talk- and don't worry if anything would've happened I could've been blasted her to a green and strawberry swirl.." Kÿr said with a cocky smirk nudging the human to get a move on.

Thud and Red leaves tossed into the air the Human landed in front of the strange feminine being staring down at her with a slightly bothered face, he stood a solid two and a half feet taller than she did, but in that regard, by seeing his tone she would cross her arms and plant her foot down. "Let's get to know each other before we start getting violent.. or else I'm gonna have to do what I did earlier to your face again- I just won't be so sparing and I'll make sure you stay down" she said as she blew a falling leaf away from her face while still looking up at the human. "Okay okay let's not get too sassy.. we were hit first- so please.. can you tell us your name so we can have some common ground around these endless trees n crap.." Kÿr exclaimed, approaching the other two while eating a small red berry he found at the top of the tree Hijìn climbed. Although he was still incredibly bothered and had a feeling of perverse behavior on the entity's part he still agreed, stepping back and putting his hands to his sides with a less serious demeanor.

"Okay..Heh awkward.." she would clear her throat a few times while wiping her sweaty hands on her sash. "I am Hèr' Lã (Hera) it's a pleasure to meet you two boys.." a soft smile spreads across her rose-colored lips to them. Kÿr's tail would curl in on itself from the response and to have some level of respect he placed a hand on his chest to say, but he was promptly cut off by her- "I.. Kÿr and Hijìn? Correct? Sorry ehehh.. little weird of me but I already knew your names.. it's not a problem right?". Kÿr stopped and looked at his friend then move his hand off his chest, shrugging not seeing any issue, but with the pieces of dry blood falling off his cheeks Hijìn would step back in questioning. "Who told..". He beckoned, having such growing reasons of discomfort growing in him, like a strange new feeling in his gut telling him to stay away. The scratching he hears in his head has gone silent, just now the endless cramping of his organs by some strange item in him making him feel some sort of way..

Kÿr tapped his friend with his knuckle to sign that it wasn't appropriate only to hear Hèr' La say. "Actually he's right to ask such a thing.. Kÿr your young and not much guidance in the early stages of your species development, but Hijìn seems like his father taught him just enough basic skills and practices to keep him mostly out of trouble". Hearing such a mention Hijìn would step forward in a sense of desperation and childlike fear for his family he made Hèr' La get spooked and jump back. "Rnow Aba?!" Hijìn questioned thinking that somehow in some sort of way this strange woman could have known his father and if maybe just maybe.. if he's still alright. Kÿr grabbed onto Hijìn's leg trying to hold him back thinking he'd get violent, grunting in trying to hold the big human back.

Out of Fear and panic Hèr' La would plant her whole palm on Hijìn's chest in defense, the moment her whole palm planted itself down his body began to rapidly change into strange things. Hijìn in shock would try to scream out, but his body was rapidly changing into different organisms, plants, to even things never before seen. Kÿr felt a strange sensation in his grasp only to look up and see the boy's leg turning into multiple strange things at the same time and he screamed out in fear. "What the FUCK?!!!". Falling back from the shock he crawled back rapidly, Hèr' La, on the other hand, moved her face back to face the human only to see she has done the unthinkable and used her abilities against a mortal. She jerked her hand back and the transformations stopped, turning Hijìn back to his normal human self and promptly collapsing on the ground unconscious, she jolted back from the thud and immediately came down to his rescue. "I-I'm so Sorry! I.. I didn't mean to..". She stopped as she heard the click of a switch, turning to her right and facing the barrel of a large blaster- Kÿr eyed her down with a face of disgust. "What the fuck..did you do to him..". He said with a deep serious tone in his voice, confused and worried this was the only thing he knew what to do- resort to violence..

Just as Hèr' La was about to respond a large dark figure came from the heavens and stomped Kÿr down into the ground, a shine from underneath its hood and deep mechanical hissing as it pushed its foot down on the cat who was now taken out. Hijìn's eyes would flutter as he attempted to awaken, getting to see nothing but the figure looming above them wielding a strange weapon on its back. In an attempt to speak Hèr' La would put a finger on his lips as she stared up at the figure, she was crouched by them and could only do nothing but stare.

The dark hooded figure solely watched this mishap from who knows where- stepping down from the small cat they would see Kÿr's blaster and with ease crush it beneath their feet. It turned to Hijìn and Hèr' La, leaning its head to the right as it approached them. "N-no! Stay back..don't do this- T-th-they've done nothing wrong it was me! Believe me..". Hèr' La was slapped across the face by the figure getting knocked to the ground, Hijìn who saw this tried to get up.. his body felt even more alien than before and his mind was all over the place. Yet, the moment he arose all he could see was the Figure turning to face him and full force-punching him in the face, making it all go dark.

Hours Later..

It was now evening, the dark trees would sway softly in the wind, the smell of charred roots filled your lungs. Soft wet patting on your cheek was all you could feel- your body was so out of shape it felt as if you had a mountain of weight on your shoulders. Opening your eyes slowly, all you could see was that strange woman again.. she mended your wounds as best you could. The glow of fire in the background was the only illumination around- what could be seen in the sky were small pockets of stars in the dark heavens above, you gently move your hand to hold that of the woman in front of you and all she could do is move her hand away and sit back.

Hijìn rested in a new tree campsite, the ground below was too dangerous to stay upon- yet, someone was able to move him up here.. he felt a strange presence still lingering in the wind. Hèr' La watched the human rest against the soft bark of this old tree and all she could do is sigh in disappointment. "I'm sorry.. this was just one large misunderstanding- If I had known S- I mean It was stalking you I would've told you sooner". Hijìn stuttered in his breathing as he faced the woman back, raising his hand up and planting it on her head between her two horns.. softly petting her head.

Hèr' La although upset, was able to have a small smile from the gesture, only moving away when she heard a noise of groaning in the background. His eyes still a bit dimmed from the head trauma he received, Hijìn could barely make out she was helping someone else.. most likely Kÿr who at this point had been the one to receive the worst from that figure before. Hèr' La sprung into action at the sight of the cat who had a small cast around his neck and a sling for his arm, Kÿr groaned from the pain had got a digit of his spine dislocated and his arm fractured- the woman applying the small pads on her fingers to the site of the injuries to alleviatee the pain. "Everything is gonna be okay little Kÿr..as long as your with me.. I'll make sure that thing doesn't come back to hurt you..". Kÿr slightly smiled as he faced her direction. "Hhhehh.. Thanks- I appreciate it, but I gotta ask.. what the hell happened? It was all so fast..".

"Hmn.. we were ambushed- a hooded figure I couldn't make the out of attacked us for no reason.. h". Hèr' La said until she noticed something she hadn't seen before, Kÿr looked at her confused as to why she stopped until she went and touched two small earrings on both of Kÿr's large ears. "You have these too.." Kÿr looked off from this until Hèr' La moved her hair back and showed similar earrings, but instead on her large ears- they were connected to her horns. "You are Blessed?!.. and I think you have the earring of KùrSa.. which means you are one of strong wills". She exclaimed in intrigue, Kÿr smirked even in allot of pain and discomfort. "Well I was the one who shot at Kùdra.. gotta be ballsy enough to even try that". He said in a cocky tone of voice patting himself on the back for the single minor attempt he had at the goddess.

Conversations and laughter was all Hijìn could hear ringing in his ears, but his focus was on elsewhere. A small spot between the canopy above he could look out into the heavens above, the sister gas giants hovered over the world shimmering all in their beauty, even then that wasn't what he was looking at. His eyes slightly closing, Hijìn would softly smile as he saw one large star shining brighter than all the rest in the night sky..the only thing he could mutter before he went to sleep was.. "Aba..".

Night fell upon those who are restless- the life of these woods seemed so present yet so mysterious. Where did she come from? Why is she helping us? If feels so cold within me.. am I actually alive? Feeling of those eyes is haunting my souls every step the further we go into these thickets.. I..Want..OUT! Let me back inside- you Can't keep HOLDING ME BACK FOREVER.. I will come back..just you wait..

#action adventure #male protagonist #oc story #original story #forgonelands #forgonelandsoc #furry friends #secondarc #chapter twelve #female #new character #sickness

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