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whaleofatjme1920 · 3 years

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In the Tent, Under His Arms (Eyeless Jack X F!Reader)

[Eyeless Jack X F!Reader]

[Warnings: literally just smut, knotted dick, breeding kink kinda?, possessive, I feel like EJ is his own warning, dubcon, rough, degrading(?), slight praise, if you are a minor DNI]

[AN: this thing is 8K words so have fun. Ngl, I had a lot of inspiration from the Wolf Man from Darkwood, so like,,,,,, that's gonna show up here as influence srry. ily <3]

To say you are nervous as you traverse the woods was an understatement. You could hardly breathe as you quietly stepped through the darkness that curtained the forest around you. Small little mushrooms and pieces of paper dotted your way as you continued to shine your flashlight at the deer path before you. Branches seemed to spring out from tree trunks in the blink of an eye scratched at your clothes as you pushed yourself forward. Every little sound that didn’t emit from you set you on edge.

How the hell did you even get here? You woke up on the floor of a rundown house. Cold tile had been your mattress as you slowly found your bearings. A quick glance around the darkened room showed a barren room, its walls littered with papers worried about a tall man in the woods. The only warnings were to watch out for him, fear him and not get caught by him lest you be taken. But you were still confused, scared and unsure.

Instead, you found yourself doing the only thing you could really think of. Securing your safety. This went on for a week without a hitch (save for the odd faces that peered into the windows every now and then) until one fateful morning where you were greeted by the only sentient living being that wished to talk to you since… Well… Since before you ended up here.

You had taken up refuge in a closet for the night and after stretching, headed to the kitchen to make something when you were rudely greeted to a… man?

Leaning against your counter drinking some coffee he’s already brewed.

You were about to rush back to your closet and pick up your blade when the man lowly chuckled.

A deep silence fell between the two of you as your eyebrows furrowed in confusion. From the silence came low, rumbling, almost animalistic breathing.

It was then that you finally got a clear view of who was leaning in your kitchen. You grounded yourself in the doorway, not budging as the man slowly sipped from the coffee mug. You took notice of what he was wearing as he did so - a big, dark blue hoodie, and on top of that, a big, brown jacket. He had worn blue jeans. Steel toe boots.

The most unsettling parts of it all?

He had ashy, grey skin. From his profile, you could see shark-like teeth, grinning at you like a wolf.

“It’s really rude to stare, sweetheart,” the grey skinned man interrupted before taking another languid sip. “Have some coffee. I went outta my way to get it for you,” he finished before you could even begin to register what he was saying.

You awkwardly looked off to the side as words failed to build in your mouth. However, your mind continued to race with thoughts.

The grey skinned man verbally rolled his eyes with a huff before placing his mug down. Then, he quickly turned himself around and opened up one of the cabinets, fished for a mug, settled on a slightly chipped white one, inspected it, then placed it on the counter beside his. His clawed hand reached for the pot of coffee and grasped it before pouring the pleasantly warm and aromatic liquid into the slight chipped mug.

“Here,” he hummed as he held out the mug to the still frozen in place you. “Before it gets cold.”

You felt immediate disgust but hit it from your face as you cautiously stepped forward.

Sighing deeply, he closed the space between the two of you by taking confident steps forward.

On instinct, you held your hands out and took the mug.

He smiled in approval before leaning back on the counter to drink from his mug. “Sorry about the lack of sugar and creamer,” he said in passing as he watched you take a slow, shy sip. “You’ve seen the state of things out there, haven’t you? Can’t find shit even if I tried.”

Upon deeming the drink not poisonous and not harmful to your wellbeing, you felt more at ease and took more confident sips. “Who are you?” You asked, effectively breaking the semi-comfortable silence.

“A medic in some circles, a trader in others,” he began, flashing his rows of pearly white sharp teeth. “Call me Jack.” His gaze then lowered, eyes still obscured by his hood. “And what about you, sweetheart? How did you find yourself in this wicked place?”

You shifted uncomfortably before leaning in the doorway and taking another sip from the mug. “I don’t know,” you muttered. “I woke up here,” you gestured to the cold, checkered tile the two of you were currently standing on, “and got to work,” you finished. Your eyes remained trained on the floor. You remembered the first few days you were here - how awkward and strange they were. The feelings of confusion and anger. Stumbling around in the dark.

Jack nodded thoughtfully at your words before he finished his mug in one big gulp. He then smirked at you, the corners of his lip tilting upwards before he began stalking towards you.

Instinctively, you backed up, ready to defend yourself.

Jack chuckled under his breath. He smelled of wet soil and pine. “I’m not going to hurt you,” he said as he stopped just an arm’s distance in front of you. He looked down at you, his eyes still observed by the darkness as you struggled to see what he looked like. His clawed hand suddenly reached out, and you flinched. He grinned, and took his lifted hand to hold your chin before slowly tilting your gaze upwards to meet his in full. “Let me get a good look at those pretty eyes,” he murmured.

And that when you saw his, or rather, the lack of. Just empty caverns. Dark, soulless, but they looked at you with such hunger.

Jack watched your pretty eyes flutter, mostly in nervousness before he leaned down. His sockets bore into you. His other hand left his coat pocket to your face, clawed came closer and closer to your eyes making you scrunch your nose. “Find me in the burnt clearing. I’ll be waiting for you.” His index finger came up to the bridge of your nose and slid down it. He chuckled at your confused expression before he tapped your nose.

When you reopened your eyes, he was gone.

You spent a few days wondering if you should go or if it was a trap. There was really no one to ask and the faces that peered into your window didn’t seem to give an answer one way or another. Your gut, however, kept telling you it was a bad idea.

That was what you were sticking with: it’s a bad idea, you shouldn’t go.

So, why were you stumbling through the woods near sundown looking for him? It was stupid, you thought, that you could be walking into your death. You quickly slashed through the brambles until you made your way to a small clearing. A light shined in the short distance when it wasn’t obscured by rapidly growing branches. A quick glance down at your map showed that this was the eyeless man’s camp.

Your fingers tightened around your blade as you left the heavy foliage to inspect the camp. There was a sizable tent followed by various crates strewn about. In the center was a fire pit and across from it was a worn down green couch. How did that even get in here?

You carefully came closer to the roaring fire with timid steps while trying to calm down your breathing. A quick glance around and there was nothing but silence to accompany you as the sun sunk further and further down the horizon. You let your guard drop for just a moment before prickling back to attention. A presence behind you made you swivel, lurch and raise your blade faster than what you were capable of.

“Took you long enough. You do know that it’s rude to keep people waiting, don’t you?” Jack states with a small frown before bursting into a fit of laughter at the sound of your still drumming heart. “What has you so nervous?” He questions, eyeing you like you are nothing but a piece of meat.

“This is your camp?” You say, more out of observation than waiting for affirmation.

“It is,” Jack hums. “Good to see you made it. I’ve seen some proxies barely make it here by the skin of their teeth,” he continues as he sits down by the fire.

“What?” You ask as you quirk up an eyebrow.

Jack picks up his back to rest between his knees and rummage through it before beckoning you over to sit next to him.

You cautiously sit next to him on another crate. You avert your attention from him back to the fire.

“Proxies are servants of this tall guy,” Jack explains after ensuring you took your seat. “They run these woods essentially, but they never come to my neck in fear of the things that exist past what is safe,” he grins slightly, still rummaging in the bag. “Out here, it’s just me and the things who lurk.”

“The things that lurk?” You whisper in a questioning tone.

Jack nods again and pulls out a little journal. He begins to thumb through it as he continues to explain to you. “Things known as the Rake, the notdeer, the proxies that succumb to their sickness early, y’know, the things that kill.” He finally finds what he’s looking for.

You turn your attention to the journal and see he’s amassed a collection of polaroid photographs of the things that lurk.

“See? These are some proxies,” he hands the book to you and points at the pictures. “And here is one of the things that lurk.” His clawed finger shows you what used to be a proxy, their body torn to shreds, organs hanging everywhere, and in the center, what you can describe as a monster hungrily devouring their flesh. “I have a lot of good shit out here, and most of them never make it past this guy.”

You shiver slightly and Jack furrows his brows for just a moment.

“Sorry,” he apologizes for a moment before briefly taking the book from you. “Anyways, very few people make it out of the woods unless you’re a proxy or me. We used to make it out a lot easier but there was this one guy, ugly fucker,” he hisses. “That left the woods after burning down the trees to the main road - one of our crossing points. The trees grew back so fast after the tall guy’s wrath and now we’re all stuck here as a result. That ugly fucker? He disa-fucking-peared.” Jack growls deeply as he says it, clearly not happy with the memory.

“I’m… Sorry,” you apologize awkwardly.

Jack shakes his head. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry your pretty little head about it, yeah?” He hums. “Anyways, flip a few pages and you’ll see the ugly fucker’s hovel before he left.” He pointed to the picture of a house similar to the one you were staying in.

Small world?

You studied the man who stood in the picture. He wasn’t that ugly in your opinion.

Jack then shows you other photos, places, effigies, proxies and one of a brilliant mansion. Apparently, you need to stay away from that place at all costs. There’s also pictures of him and other people, some of them you recognize from your time on earth? Is that right? Are you still on earth?

Jack explains a bit more to you. Mostly about this place. It’s like a pocket. Somehow, you were taken and brought here for a reason. Jack suspects it’s because the tall man, also known as the Slender Man, wants to make you a proxy.

“You’ll lose your humanity that way,” he tsks. “And that’s why I called you here. Not for pictures and conversation,” the warmth that was in his tone over reminiscing over things and learning about others is gone.

You notice it almost instantly. You watch as his posture changes and so too do his facial features. You know he means business now.

“I know you’re looking for a way out,” he begins. “I can help you with that.” Jack notices your eyes light up for the first time in well… It’s the first time he’d seen you look so hopeful.

“What’s the catch?” You ask as you slowly lean away from him.

Before Jack could say anything, a shriek was heard off in the distance. Jack’s face twinkled with excitement for a second before he nodded his head over to his tent.

It caught you off guard and sent your heart racing before yet another shriek emitted from the dark forest around the two of you.

“It’s dark,” Jack says as his gaze goes back over to his tent again. “Stay here for the night. Those things out there don’t really fuck with me,” he muses. When you don't answer, he stands up. “Unless you wanna try your luck out there, sweetheart. By all means…” He trails off as he slowly begins walking over to his tent.

You swallow your pride and stand up much too fast and catch pace with him.

Jack lets out an amused chuckle as he opens the flaps to the tend and allows you entrance.

You were immediately shrouded in the scent of petrichor and wild flowers. Surprisingly, it didn’t smell near as rough as you had originally expected. You felt a tad awkward standing in his tent as he zipped it up.

“You can sit down,” he says as he ensures the flaps were shut properly.

You nod more to yourself than anyone else and take a few more steps inside. It was tall enough that you could stand without brushing your head on the roof. On the floor interspersed with grass were carpets. It looked like a nest was in the near middle? Tons of blankets and two twin sized mattresses laid side by side were on the ground.

You glance around and see a small little desk, some writing supplies, just normal home stuff. Why was Jack living out here? There were tons of vacant houses.

Instead, you brush the thought off and settle on sitting timidly at the end of one of the blanket covered mattresses.

“Good choice,” Jack says as he procures from his pocket a box of matches. Then, he reaches over on the little desk for a kerosene lamp. After lighting it, the dimness of the tent became something actually visible. He checks his watch as he slowly makes his way to the other mattress.

“What time is it?” You ask as you struggle to get comfortable on the mattress.

“Surprisingly? Nearing midnight,” he answers. Jack stretches slightly before plopping down entirely. “Get some sleep, yeah? Tomorrow morning, we’ll set out to do what I ask,” Jack subtly demands. He props his elbows up on his knees and watches from the corner of his gaze as you shift awkwardly.

You felt strange laying down on the mattress, but did so anyway. It doesn’t seem Jack cared very much that your shoes were still on. You move your body slightly to find comfort on the mattress while Jack continues to eye you from the corner of his vision.

He takes note of your form, how delicious you look. How he can take you right now.

But he saw your eyelids grow heavy. Within moments, you were on the verge of passing out.

Jack relents softly. He knows she wants your full attention while he ruts into you making you cry out to gods that don’t want to hear you. He sees you begin to fade in and out of consciousness. Luckily for him, he does have some business to attend to, and those creatures didn’t ever get too close to his camp.

They wouldn’t touch you, not with his scent bathed all over you.

One of the last things you heard before Jack left to attend to other matters was a compliment. You barely heard it, and it would have shocked you right awake if your body wasn’t on the verge of shutting down.

“You look so pretty right now, Sweetheart. Beautiful, even.”

It wasn’t until 3am that Jack finally returned. You were fast asleep when he finally resented the tent, but he could smell you all the way from where his important matters laid. His nose guided him back to you. And funnily enough, it brought him back to you about a week ago as well.

Jack hadn’t smelled a fertile woman in a very long time. Well, since this whole mess came upon the Slender Man’s woods, really. He spied on you the first few days you were here. You weren’t as ready for him then, must’ve just been leading up to it. When he popped into your kitchen, it was because you were getting so close to your peak. The smell was overwhelming, sweet, and tender. Intoxicating. Like fresh peaches and the tangiest of strawberry pie. Lucky for him? You came to him at your peak.

Jack ressecure the flaps of the tend before his vision that saw all too well in the darkness his beauty that rests on the mattress he knew you’d choose. Your face and other gestures were gently lit up by the almost extinguished kerosene lamp’s flame. It drove him wild to see you breathe so peacefully.

Your chest rose every so slightly and he could have sworn he caught the outline of your nipples if it wasn’t for that stupiud bra you had on instead.

Jack licked his lips as he quietly drew himself closer to you. He couldn’t stop himself from crawling on top, quietly and slowly, so as to not wake you. One of his knees gently pried apart your legs, and then he took in your scent. You smelled of something not from the woods. You smelled of fresh vanilla and dark roast coffee. Of strawberry pound cake. Of good things.

Jack leans down and takes in your scent near the base of your neck, inhales deeply, then buries his nose in your hair. You smell divine, possibly even better than… Well, it’s best not to say. His hand picks itself up off the mattress to gently and gingerly brush near your hairline. Sily. Pretty. He then places it on your stomach and lightly presses, trailing his claws along your abdomen to your side. You are so soft. So delicate.

The moment his clawed fingertips touch your side and begin trailing down, you wake up.

Your eyes fly open and you almost let out a scream at seeing how this strange man is looming over you. Your mouth opens, but his hand quickly leaves your side to smother you. You breathe heavily against his palm, your eyes wide and with fear. You struggle against him.

“Shhh, he hushes as his hand presses a little firmer on your mouth. “Calm down.” His voice was low as his knee dug further into the mattress, just below the place he wanted most.

You continue to struggle against him, fighting against his planted hand while his other hand presses down on your hips.

“You promise not to scream?” Jack deadpans in a low tone with an edge that cuts you to your core. He sees tears welling in your eyes, and he knows you’re telling the truth. Slowly, he peels his hand back, watching as you keep true to your word.

You take in deep breaths to help self regulate. “What the fuck?” You seethe. Your arms, which have been pawing wildly at his chest, relax only slightly when his clawed hands catch your wrist in a vice grip.

“Easy,” he murmurs, only loosening his grip when he’s sure you won’t fight him any further. His head dips so his empty caverns can peer right through yours in the dim light.

One look and you know what he wants. Horor and something else - something wanton - pass across your face, making Jack laugh.

“I said I wasn’t gonna hurt you,” he hums, his clawed index finger trailing your cheek.

Before you can say anything else, Jack’s hand leaves your hips and grabs your face. With a wicked grin, he licks his teeth, then leans down and licks your face.

You contort to digits as he does so. He smells of iron.

“Why are you doing this?” You growl as his tongue leaves your cheek to your chin, slowly making his way to your neck. “I can leave if that’s-”

“No,” Jack growls. “You won’t leave,” he states before gently nipping at the soft flesh on your neck. “You smell so good,” he murmurs before taking another languid lick at your neck.”I’m going to make you mine,” With that, he entirely retracted his form from yours to look down at you.

Of course, you fight him. Your thighs grip around his upper leg that still rests between your knees and you almost maange to flip the two of you over. But he was much bigger and much stronger than you could manage. With a deep laugh, he grips your wrists tighter above your head and squeezes to let you know who is in charge. With his free hand, he reaches into his back pocket and gets the zip ties.

How the fuck did he get zip ties?

“Jesus fucking Christ,” you hiss as he dangles them in front of your eyes.

“I just can’t trust you right now,” Jack tsks in the tone of a pouting child. The black zip ties feel awful against your wrists (they also feel good) - and he’d secured them so tightly. He playfully watches you attempt to break free from them, and when it proves futile, he laughs. Jack then allows his hands to take free roam of your body while you begin to protest him less and less. “I know you don’t have any spare clothes,” he hums thoughtfully before his fingers waltz down to the hem of your shirt. “Luckily, I have some left over. You won’t be needing any of this,” he cackles as his sharp claws make waste of the fabric.

You feel yourself growing weaker and weaker under his grasp but still curse at him more than what you deem possible. Jack seemed to eat up your insults. “You’re fucking sick,” you spit as he eyes your bra hungrily. “A sick fucking pervert.”

“You stayed the night, Sweetheart,” Jack grins wickedly. “I’m only taking claim of what’s now mine,” he says before delicately tracing the cups of your bra. He likes the design. Dark blue with light colored polka dots. An interesting choice. Without wasting any more time, his claws cut through the fabric too - no use in unclasping while your hands are bound. “How beautiful,” he giggles. “How lovely. I could hardly tell when you were using those bags you call clothes,” he teases, making your knees clamp around his knee once more, making Jack break again and laugh.

You bite your tongue and try to avert your gaze from him, not wanting him to see that you’re flushed due to the intimacy and that your body and you yourself are growing keen to the situation you have found yourself in. “This is…”

“C’mon,” Jack breathes out as his fingers trail up your smooth flesh to your breasts. “You must’ve known something was up. A man doesn’t just ask a woman to stay the night. He’s got one thing on his mind if she isn’t family or a friend: he wants to fuck her.”

The harshness and pure lust that dripped from his tongue made your face heat up in response. Your gaze darts and bounces around before you finally settle on his hands that are now fondling your chest.

Jack’s hands travel to your pants. He takes in your scent again. You are intoxicating, so intoxicating.

“You’re gonna have to work for it,” you manage to hiss out, legs still clamped around his knee.

Jack’s expression falls. “You’re not in charge, I am.” And with that, he rips through your pants, leaving you naked before him.

You shiver slightly in response to the cool air, and of course, Jack has to see that and make note of it as well.

“Awh,” he coos as his nose gets closer and closer to your heat. “Are you cold? Do you want me to warm you up?” He murmurs in a sickening lust filled tone.

“You bastard-” you’re barely able to breathe out before you’re cut off by Jack dragging the flat of his long, black tongue from the bottom to the top, taking great joy in the arousal that was already present.

“What a naughty, naughty girl,” he teases before dragging his tongue again. “Already soaking,” he compliments. His thumb, careful of the sharpened claw, travels to your clit and begins to slowly massage it. He feels your legs shift. Jack hums as he does to, hsi tongue only playing with your lips. He was going to make you suffer before he stuffs you completely.

His teeth nip you every now and then, just to remind you who was really in charge as his tongue and lips press kisses to your lower lips. He doesn’t dare dip into your heat despite wanting to taste you in full.

You write in his grasp, trying to hold back any and all sounds of pleasure. You don’t want to give him the satisfaction of knowing what he’s doing to you.

It’s a shame really, he could make you see stars if only you’d let him.

He must have gone near half an hour with his head between your legs, still fully dressed. He was a man of great patience, and he’d been edging you for much longer and harder than he should have. He could see frustration dotting your face when he finally came back up to look at you.

You look a little more flushed than he remembers. It’s probably all the heat rushing to your face. He notices your hands are quite restless too, that and being tied up couldn’t be the most comfortable thing in the world.

“You look upset, why?” He asks before sucking on your clit. When you struggle to say anything, his teeth graze you ever so slightly. “Use your words, please,” he hums much like an authority figure would.

“Tongue fuck me,” you mumble in embarrassment, eyes darting anywhere but at Jack who is still nestled securely between your legs. You watch as Jack’s ears perk up.

“Say that again,” he prompts, his fingers taking over his tongue on your clit.

“Please,” you say softly “Tongue fuck me and please untie me.”

A sly grin crosses onto Jack’s face alongside yet another chuckle. He momentarily leaves your legs and crawls back up to be face to face with you. His index finger reaches up and his claw slashes through the zip ties.

You freely move your wrists, getting used to your newfound freedom.

“It’s only because you asked nicely,” Jack coos as his sockets bore into your eyes. He presses a gentle kiss to your lips, pleasantly surprised that you don’t fight him like before. He then crawls back down your body to rest in between your legs, his clawed fingers parting your lower lips slightly before he dives his tongue in. He takes great joy in how you write beneath him as your thighs press harder against the side of his head.

He buries his tongue inside of you and curls it in places no human could ever reach. He has you seeing stars.

You buck your hips quite a few times and Jack’s hand reluctantly leaves your thighs to push your hips back down. As he tongue fucks you closer and closer to release, you become a little harder to control. He enjoys it though.

Jack hums absentmindedly as he does so, relishing in your taste. You are soaking wet and so, so close. All he has to do is push you off the edge.

He slithers his tongue out of you before rubbing your clit with his thumb, allowing you to take your mind off your pussy and to the assault your clit before your mind goes white hot in pleasure. Jack’s tongue darts so fast into your pussy that you almost yelp in response as he thrusts it back in and out, still humming like it was no big deal.

Your back arches and that’s all Jack needs to know to see you’re just about to cum. A few more rough flicks of his tongue and you’re creaming onto his face. Your hands grip the nest’s bedsheets and various blankets as he continues to carefully tongue fuck you through your orgasm. He grins as he laps up your sweetness, teasing you under his breath about the effect he has on you.

But he’s not done with you, not by a long shot.

You look up hazily while panting deeply as Jack’s tongue slowly leaves your pussy. The flat of his tongue slowly swipes up from bottom to top which makes you giggle, and he smiles against your skin. From there, he begins working on undoing his belt.

“Here,” you murmur softly, his ears once again perking up to catch your words.

“Hm? He hums in response as he cocks his head to the side, watching as you slowly sit up and stretch before your hands gently press onto his chest. You push off his dark brown coat and then trail down to his belt.

Your hands are soft and gentle as you work on freeing him, and within moments, you are tossing his belt to the side and unzipping him. You can see the tent in Jack’s pants, and you can already feel how delicious he’s going to feel inside of you.

Jack nods for you to lay back down when you shake your head ‘no.’ Interesting. Instead, your hands unzip him and you reach for his cock. Your eyes pop as you touch it - he was hot, much hotter than any man you’d previously been with.

“Come on, don’t keep me waiting,” Jack teases.

You roll your eyes playfully before finally fishing him from his pants, guiding him out with anticipation. You look up at him the entire time you do so, lust clouding your vision and burning through your soul as you do so, almost unaware of the monster you hold in your hands. When you finally look down, you feel heat rise to your face once more.

Jack smirks in response and tangles his fingers near your scalp, brushing you ever so slightly. He guides your lips down to meet the giant. He was big. No denying it. Had to be near nine inches, thich, veiny, with a girthy know he couldn’t wait to stuff inside of you.

You didn’t fight against him. Instead, you eagerly awaited him for your mouth.

Your lips are soft as they press the lightest of kisses to his tip. And just like that, you’re dragging the length of your tongue up and down his cock and listening to him growl in anticipation. When you know you’ve got him where you want him, you take him in your mouth.

Jack’s claws keep steady in your hair as you bob your head. Your lips couldn’t reach his know, and to be completely fair, he wasn’t expecting you to be able to take all of him orally, but he loves what you can do. Your tongue swirls around his tip and shaft every time you come back up, and when Jack was acting up? You graze your teeth against him.

Before he knows it, you are looking up at him with the sweetest gaze, giving him your permission for him to use you. Jack passes you a look of affection before his other hand reaches up to caress your cheek, moaning out deeply as your tongue swirls on his tip, trying to coax his cum out.

Without any particular warning, he pushes your head down and brings you back up before working into face fucking you.

Your face goes dark as he uses you, making breathing damn near impossible. He begins muttering in some language you don’t know - they sound like praises - but he’s coming closer and closer to his edge.

In a mix of English and whatever language he was mumbling in, you can feel his praises get filthier and filthier. Though, Jack doesn’t want to finish in your mouth. Not this time.

“Back down, I’m going to fuck you,” he murmurs deeply while looking at you with lust and… something you can’t quite name. It wasn’t animalistic, that’s for sure.

Jack expects for you to lay back and spread your legs for him but instead, he watches as you maneuver on all fours. Your face is burying into the blankets and your ass is just shy of his waist level despite you pushing up towards him.

You glance back at him and roll your eyes playfully before swaying your hips, attempting to entice him further.

Jack sees the slickness of your cunt and without any hesitation, takes your waist into his clawed hands and begins rubbing his cock with your slick. “Gods, you’re so fucking wet,” he murmurs as he continues to rub his cock with your juices. “I’m going to destroy you.” And then he slips into that language you just can’t understand. “I’m going to knot you and you won’t be able to look at another man without begging for me to fill you up,” he says as his fingers lightly part your lips that were so tightly pressed together as he lines up with you.

Before he does so, he begins to shrug off his hoodie.

“Stop teasing me,” you say in a teasing tone, making Jack pause from taking off the rest of his clothes.

Jack verbally rolls his eyes before taking his hand out from under his hoodie before gripping your waist again. Without any warning, Jack shoves himself into your roughly, hilting himself to his knot before resting there and taking off the hoodie.

Your eyes roll up slightly as he thrust inside of you. The thickness he had wasn’t anything you were used to, and he stretched you open with absolutely no lead up and it made you see stars again.

“I can feel your wet cunt,” he says in passing as he throws his hoodie up and over his head. “Squeeze around me while you wait for me to fuck you,” he chuckles with a devilish grin. He feels your body’s eagerness for him to fuck you, and like such a good girl, you squeeze his cock making him breathe out with a smile. He feels you pulsing, he feels you growing hundred with the need the longer he stays dormant inside of you.

He sighs in ecstasy as he begins to slowly move himself out of you. When it was just the tip, he roughly slid back in, still refusing to knot. His ears twitch at the sound of you gasping for air as he really begins to fuck you. “And here you were calling me a pervert,” he muses as he begins to thrust into you with deep, long strokes, adoring the sounds that pour from your mouth. “But you like fucking me huh? You like it, you goddamn slut. You like being fucked by something that is no longer human,” he continues in that same dead language, nails digging into your soft flesh. “You’re gonna milk my cock and then you’re gonna do it again in the morning.”

Your eyebrows furrow, mouth slightly open, hair bouncing slightly with every thrust. Your face is so heated in response. This is something you know you shouldn’t be doing, but fuck was it good at keeping you around and interested.

As one of his clawed hands undug itself from your flesh to slide down your hip and caress your abdomen, his claws trace your skin and press into your clit once more. He thumbs you and leans over you as he does so, his other hand propping next to your head as he engulfs you with his size. He’s pounding into you now, still refusing to know. His tongue lazily swipes at your shoulder as his hips thrust into you at a damn near inhuman speed and strength, making you mumble incoherencies.

Your moans are music to his ears.

“I’m gonna fuck you until you feel like you can’t anymore, and I’m gonna fuck you until I’m the only man you’ll ever fucking think about,” he roughly sneers into your ears as he continues to pound his hips against you. “I’m going to fuck you until you tell me to stop, and even then? I might not stop.” He breathes deeply into your ear, his tongue tracing the shell as you pathetically move in tandem with him, his fingers digging into your clit and swirling.

He’s trying to get you to cum again.

You are trembling beneath him as his hips shatter you. You can feel his knot greet your lips, but still refuse to enter as Jack growls deeply into your ear. Your legs clamp together as his hand roughly fingers your pearl.

He’s so intoxicating, and you feel like you can’t breathe.

“Cum on my cock,” he hisses harshly, still fucking you to orgasm.

And just like that, he got his wish.

You squeeze shut your beautiful eyes before tightening your thighs together. An immediate waterfall gushes from between your legs, filling the air with something sweet and slightly bitter.

Jack laughs as he pulls out from your pussy, watching as the liquids continue to gush out. “What a cutie,” he teases as he lovingly licks your cheek. “Turn over. I wanna see your face when I knot you,” he grins, nodding for you to lay back on the side of the twin mattresses that was not turned into an ocean.

On hellied legs, you slowly wobble and hum as his finger traces your slit before falling back to the side of the mattresses that isn’t soaked. Your eyes meet his gaze and you slowly spread your legs as he looms over you. You catalog everything about him. In your eyes, he looks so animalistic, and so human all at the same time.

Without his jacket or his hoodie, you’re able to see the scars that decorate his body. He’s so dark, and the cuts and jagged lines that dash across his form are so light in contrast. He’s still lacking eyes - so how is it that he looks at you with such love?

That stupid smirk is looking at you again and you’re tearing your gaze off it to see the head of his cock weeping with precum.

Jack whistles down at you, his hand resting on your knee. “You knew this was coming, Sweetheart,” he hums as he leans forward, hands placing themselves on both sides of you. His grin grew as he saw your face heat up once more.

Jack feels your legs shift followed by a slight weight on his lower waist, He makes a noise of approval as your ankles lock before he glances down to where your bodies are soon going to be connected again. “Let me know if I hurt you at any point,” he whispers softly in your ear as his slightly pointed tip prods at your entrance.

You find yourself almost taken aback by his sudden kindness - he was so domineering but so soft? Your trail of thought is almost entirely derailed as he pushes his cock in and past your puffy, swollen lips as you listen to him hiss at the new angle.

It’s intimate - neither of you can deny that.

Jack watches your expressions from the corner of his gaze as he slowly begins to pump in and out of you, working you to that breakneck pace once more. He watches as your eyebrows furrow as he picks up the pace, fucking you in your entirety. He feels your legs tighten around his waist and watches as your eyebrows furrow once more and knit together in pleasure.

You begin to pant as he does so, walls pulsing deliciously around him as his hips meet yours in thick, meaty thrusts. You feel his cock slide deeper and deeper with every thrust, pushing you to new limits.

Your moans are, once again, music to his ears as he fucks you senseless. Your hands wantonly claw at his back and brush against his sensitive flesh. Swears and curses escape your lips every now and then and that makes him blush.

“You are taking me so, so well,” he harshly compliments through pants as he lowers himself onto his forearms, his hips continuously snapping forward. “It’s almost as if your cunt was made for me. I wonder if you can take my knot as well?” He mumbles as his knot kisses your bruised lips once again. “I don’t care what you say, I’m gonna make you take it.”

“Fuck!” Jack swore under his breath as your walls vice gripped him. “You’re gonna take my knot and you’re gonna like it,” he mumbles into your neck as he kisses and nips at it. He hisses again when you rake your nails across and down his back. His ears fall back in pleasure and close to his scalp as you moan louder. The sound of your pussy gobbling him up has him weak at the knees.

“You’re getting close again, aren’t you?” He questions as he nips at your neck, threatening to bite in the longer you hesitate in answering.

You’re admittedly pretty tongue tied at the moment. “I-!” You’re cut off but his hips slapping forward making you choke and gasp for air. “I am-,” you breathe out through your moans.

“Perfect,” Jack chuckles as he slowly inches his way out. He watches your face carefully as he pulls out, his gaze trained on yours as his forearms push up so he can see you better.

Confusion etches itself on your face. “What?”

“I just wanna see your face,” he answers as his tip rubs against your entrance. He licks your cheek playfully once more before slowly, and deliciously dragging his cock back in, his knot just barely meeting your lips. “This might hurt,” he murmurs gently as he picks his hips back up once more before thrusting back in, much more forcefully, his thick, large knot finally breaching your pussy.

Your eyes widen as his girthy knot pushes inside of you, your legs instinctively tightening around his hips. Your hand leaves his back to grip onto his bicep. Luckily for you, Jack doesn’t mind. You wince as he wiggles in the rest of his knot into your pussy as it swallows him whole, the entirety of his knot being buried inside of you, making it hard for you to breathe. You feel so full and stuffed!

Jack is a little surprised by how strong your grip is! He’s almost completely smitten with it when he finally looks down to see tears welling in your eyes. He can tell it’s a mixture of both paini, from being stressed immensely, and pleasure in a way only pain could bring. It’s ecstasy. Jack leans down gently and begins to kiss your tears away, careful to not pull where the two of you are connected all the while restraining himself to what he doesn’t believe is bearable.

“You feel so divine,” he murmurs livingly before licking away another tear. “Just relax, let me do the work,” he continues. He feels your lips on his and he smiles, taking that as the green light to rock into you. Unfortunately, he would not be able to completely destroy you like he did prior to knotting you simply because of the knot.

Now, Jack takes the time to be intimate. He lovingly relishes in the feeling of kissing you as he slowly and tantalizingly grinds his hips against you and lightly thrusts after every roll. It was a little difficult due to the connection, but it felt sweet. His hand went back between your legs to work your pearl as he continued to sweetly roll and thrust into you, thoroughly enjoying how your hips are shyly coming up to meet him.

“Come on,” he whispers softly through his kiss as he begins to thrust a little rougher. “Just a little more, cum on my cock again,” he urges as he breaks the kiss, licking your cheek. He’s swiping and thumbing your clit in ways that have you writhing beneath him.

Your legs tighten around his waist, urging him to press deeper inside of you.

Not one to deny a lady from what she wants, Jack backs up as far as his hips will let him and pounds back into you. He repeats the motion, making sure to roll every time he does so.

Your hands grasp at his back once more as he fucks you with reckless abandon, his name being the only thing to spill from your lips as he does so. You can’t believe he’s overloading you again, and your heart picks up in response. You kiss him once more, feeling his chapped, rough lips against your soft ones before he leaves and nips down the side of your face and back to your neck. He lightly bites down, not hard enough to draw blood, but enough for you to know he’s got a claim on you.

You look up at him as he mumbles in that same dead language against your skin. He’s so lost in you that it’s almost adorable. Your hand gently asks for his attention, and he gives it to you. You give him a look of nothing but lust and possibly love, and Jack’s lips are on yours again, thickly, warmly, with something deeper and much more passionate than anything you would have expected he was capable of. When he breaks away, panting, against your face, he makes you cry out in pleasure.

“I’m going to fill you,” Jack sneers through his panting, hips still thickly pounding into you. “I’m going to fill you for as long as I’m inside of you,” he mutters as his thrusts frow sloppy. Jack covers you entirely with his body as he roughly pants into your ear, so, so close to spilling.

Your walls begin to flutter around him, urging him to spill as he growls into you. You feel like you’re creaming rings around his dick, urging, no, begging him to bottom out inside of you. Your nails are leaving dark, jagged marks into the flesh of his back as he does so.

With a few more powerful thrusts, Jack finds himself going over the edge, his hips back as far as his knot will allow him before he buries himself deep, the tip pressing against your cervix as he releases himself inside of you. Hot, thick, sticky ropes of cum begin to flood into your needy cunt as lightly rocks himself inside of you, gritting his teeth as you tremble beneath him. “Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck!” He continually growls out like a prayer as your fluttering walls coax more cum from him.

Your eyes roll upwards as the heat floods your cunt, making you squeeze your eyes shut and burying your face into his chest. You’re squeezing tightly around him, vice gripping him as he continues to relish in the feeling of your body holding him so tightly. You can barely think straight as his cock weeps more cum, threatening, and succeeding in filling you to your brim.

“Gods, you’re milking me,” he murmurs as he finally stops pumping you full of cum. “This… This is gonna take a while,” he says darkly in your ear.

“What?”

Jack nods down to where the two of you are still connected. “Gonna be a while.” He sighs, secures your legs to his waist, and then flips you over so you are resting on top of his chest. “Get comfortable.”

“How long..?”

“A while,” Jack awkwardly coughs. “It’s just uh, a knot thing, I guess?” He attempts to explain as you shift your hips deliciously, making him huff and his cock spurt more ropes of cum. He looks away in slight embarrassment. “You can sleep, if you want? Like I said, this is gonna be a while,” he finishes as his hand fishes around for a blanket as his other hand travels down your lower waist to finally cup your ass. He squeezes gently once he finally throws the blanket over the two of you.

“Or,” you say as you plant your hands firmly on his chest, gradually bringing yourself back up. “We can go again.”

Jack laughs. “And you called me a pervert.”

You lightly slap him and grind your hips slowly against him. “Shut up.”

#eyeless jack x reader #eyeless jack #creepypasta #creepypasta x reader #nsft #creepypasta scenario #x reader #reader insert

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thehomothings · 3 years

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Analysis of Kite's conflicting moralities, relationship with death, and the toll reincarnation may take on one's psyche

So, today I decided to compile all the thoughts I have had about Kite's interesting worldview since the first time I saw him into one post, mostly for my own sake, really. If you're familiar with the few posts I've made, you know it's gonna be a mess, but hopefully a comprehensible mess.

A heads up, this is going to be spoiler-heavy, and very much deal with subjects of death and dying as a whole. Also, some of these conclusions are drawn from my own experiences and close brushes with death, I'm not going to go into much detail but it might get personal and definitely dark. I'm not even sure if I can call this a meta-analysis, and I'm obviously no expert, so mayhaps take all of this with a grain of salt.

Been getting into drawing lately, and during the more simple and mindless part of the painstaking process of dotting every single star in this, I let my thoughts wander through the latest part of the fic I'm writing, and I got a better grasp on what exactly made Kite such an elusive character to me.

I'm not quite sure why I got so attached to Kite. Perhaps it was the air of tragedy surrounding him, how despite his sordid past he remained still open and gentle even if outlined by a healthy dose of cynicism.

But sometimes, I think it's the fact that he is so paradoxical. He's brave, yet fears death to such a degree that creates a whole Nen ability around it, is a pacifist yet will not hesitate to spill blood for his own sake or someone else's. Despite the many ultimatums and warnings of 'I will not protect you', he gave his arm and then his life to save Gon and Killua. He approaches each hunt and battle with a clear plan of action in mind, but his Hatsu takes the form of a roulette that gives him random weapons which are never what he wants, but what he seems to need for that exact situation, which he cannot dispel without using. When he draws a weapon, the decision is locked in and his or his opponent's fate is sealed. That's why each time he dubbs his weapon a bad roll. Every time he has to gamble, he sees himself as having run out of luck. When it comes to having to choose between himself and somebody else...well, there had never been a choice. In fact his aversion to using it may feed into its sheer power that we, unfortunately, saw too little of.

Let's go over his very first appearance when he saves Gon from the mother Foxbear.

It's not hard to see the strain searching for Ging has put on him; he's rash, prone to anger and punching a child for daring to get into trouble. In his mind, he's failing at his most important task, has not yet earned the right to call himself a hunter despite being in possession of his very own hunter license.

After killing the mother Foxbear and raging about having done so, he says this interesting line:

So yes, he finds killing for any reason rather irksome as most would do, yet I think something deeper caused him to absolutely lose it in this scene:

He had not been aware of Gon's identity, and despite being an animal lover and a naturalist, he made a choice to save the human instead of allowing nature to run its course. In fact, he says: 'No beast that harms a human must be allowed to live.'

How does one weight one life against another? How is the worth of it determined? The value of life... an impossible choice he's faced with and a choice which he seems to regret to some degree.

The Foxbear cub.

Here, he's speaking from experience, a tangible loss he has felt himself, and a hard and bitter life he does not want to impose on the cub.

His backstory is exclusive to the 2011 anime adaptation but there are hints alluding to it in the manga, for example, the fact that he does not seem to know his birthplace, or:

The choice of words is chilling.

Reading between the lines, one could draw the conclusion that he is an orphan. Something supporting this hypothesis is how he visibly deflates after Gon tells him his parents have (presumably) died.

So we see he is willing to go against his own moral code of not killing as to not doom another living being to the life he led, a lonely, hopeless existence that could barely be called one. He saw it best to put down the cub rather than leave it to die a painful, slow death.

The reason Kite himself isn't as cynical and cold-hearted as one would be after witnessing cruelty in its rawest form is those small crumbs of human kindness which he may have found in Ging.

It was not only a chance at an honorable life being Ging's apprentice gave him, but it also 'saved' him from being broken and twisted into what he hated and worst of all, death.

If we take that one minute of backstory as canon to his character-which I find myself inclined to do- these quirks of his make much more sense. He lived on the run. He lived on the knife's edge between giving up or pushing forwards. He lived as so a wrong move could be the difference between survival and the end.

Between rock and a hard place creates a mentality of black and white, absolute good or extreme evil, this or that. Except in reality, it's much harder than that. Deciding who to save and who to strike down is a heavy burden to bear.

It's almost easy to see how struggling to keep surviving could lend itself to a crippling fear of death and subsequently developing a Nen ability which once more goes against his own moral code in order to give himself a second chance...yet something about it strikes me as unlikely when I look at it this way.

Living life knowing it could end at any moment has the opposite effect, at least for me it did. One comes to accept that it is fleeting and while not eager to let it go, when death eventually and inevitably does come, there is no fighting it.

Especially when there is no hope that tomorrow will be a better day than this one.

Frequent near-death experiences numb one's fear in a way, even if it drives them to take precautions that render it unlikely to happen again and results in c-PTSD, but still, it does. It sparks a certain nihilistic view of 'if it all can end so easily, then what's the point of it all?'

Unless there are things to live for, a sure promise of a better future, and Ging gave Kite that. When he faced the threat of losing his second chance at life:

Really, what else could lead someone to develop the ability of 'the hell I'm going to die like this'?

I think a separate event, an even more brutal near-death experience that almost cost him his life as the hunter he so strived to be set him off to develop the secret roll of Crazy Slots, what I call Roll No.0, Ars moriendi. Unlike other weapons, it cannot come up in random and is directly summoned by him, or better said, summon by his overwhelming will to keep going and hopelessness of fighting a losing battle. I don't believe roll No.3 was the weapon that allowed him to reincarnate. I've named that one Wand of Fortune, a sort of armor instead of an offensive weapon since I find it hard to believe Kite, a Conjurer, would not focus on defences as well, and I will go into both mechanisms of these weapons hopefully in his backstory.

Despite knowing this battle to be a pointless one and being acutely aware of his soon to be demise, he did not immediately draw Ars moriendi, no, he stayed back and fought for the sake of the boys, kept Neferpitou occupied until they could reach safety. We can see evidence of this in the aftermath of the battle that seemed to have gone on until dawn, a torn apart landscape only signaling a fraction of the devastation that was Kite's power unleashed. It still wasn't enough.

In the anime sub I watched, when Gon apologizes to Ging about Kite's death, Ging said a sentence that infuriated me, because it belittled the utter suffering of the NGL trio.

"He would not die in your place." (No screenshot, sorry)

And I remember practically shouting at the screen, screaming 'how could you possibly say that? Of course he did. He absolutely did die in their place. How could you not know your own apprentice? Why-'

It was only last night that it hit me why Ging would say that.

Once upon a time, maybe Kite would not have given his life for anybody under any circumstances, even if he had a way out of it all. He would still need to die to come back to life.

His Thanatophobia could be attributed to the (possibly untreated) PTSD of the near-death experience in his later life, being so certain of dying that finding himself alive afterwards drove him to never want to go through that again. He quieted his fear by creating a sort of a loophole, that even if he lost the battle he would remain. Ging remembered that, but as evidence shows, something changed. Maybe he healed a bit, perhaps growing up dulled his fear to a certain degree, but eventually when it came down to his life or another's, he didn't choose himself.

Now, I can hear you saying 'but he didn't die, so what are you going on about??' And so I reply: Yes, he is alive, but he did die. He experienced that painful, horrible moment of staring death in the eyes and thinking 'This is it, this is the end', went through the actual process of having his soul removed from his body. And that moment stretches into infinity, ten lifetimes condensed into the mere seconds before oblivion.

Dying isn't so hard if one stays dead.

It's not so easy to open one's eyes and find oneself alive again after that, no matter how much that is the heart's desire. It's difficult, nigh-impossible to reconcile with life and walk amongst the living when everything had been so final, when death had been accepted to its fullest.

So Kite awakens, the twin of Meruem and back from the dead, his mind and identity both intact and fractured. In that he is Kite is no mistaking, yet he is not the same gentle pacifist whose first reaction upon sensing a monster's aura was to shield two kids from it at the cost of his arm.

I don't think many of you are familiar with Zoroastrian ideology, but Togashi is known for loving his religious imagery, and it's not only Christianism he derives inspiration from (evidence of which can be seen all over Kite's character and resurrection).

In Zurvanism-a branch of Zoroastrianism- there is talk of the twin spirits: Ahura Mazda -epitome of all that is good- and Ahriman -epitome of all that is evil-, the parent god Zurvin decides that the firstborn may rule in order to bring "heaven, hell, and everything in between."

Upon becoming aware of this fact, Ahriman forcibly tears through the womb to emerge first. Sounding familiar yet?

Zurvan relents to this turn of events only on one condition: Ahriman is given kingship for 9000 years, and then Ahura Mazda may rule for eternity.

Meruem ruled for 40 days, his death leaving the throne vacant for ant Kite, wearing a dead girl's face and seeming to be brewing some nefarious plan. No more is there any sign of that unrelenting pacifism and the sanctity of life he held so high, losing his own may have only served to show him how meaningless the pain and suffering he went through had been, dying only to be reborn as a member of the species that killed him. It may be that he has no desire to rule over the remaining Chimera ants or create an army of his own-

Yet I dread to think what a broken mind possessing limitless power might do to the world.

And that's it. If you made it this far, thank you for reading! If you found it interesting, stay tuned, as I think a lot and I will make it your problem.

#Cw: talks of death and PTSD #When I say I unknowingly projected onto him #I can't tell if writing this was cathartic or torturous #and I gave myself heart palpitations so this is enough for today #And yes I refer to ant Kite by he/him pronouns because misgendering him on the account of his body being afab is just ignorant #even if I think skrunkly's genderqueer af and actually wouldn't mind she/her #still i wanna push the trans ant kite agenda #So yes this is how I unknowingly picked up Kite as a coping mechanism even if out attitudes towards death are practically opposites #don't mind your grandpa trauma dumping #What I'm saying is get ant Kite therapy before he sinks the world #I love reimagining Kite as a villain and I don't know why #Kite hxh #hxh kite #kite hunter x hunter #kaito hxh #hxh #hunter x hunter #meta analysis #theories #fic rambles #Icarus waffles #Kitkat #gon freccs #Ging freecss

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narrators-journal · 3 years

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First impressions (yandere Illumi x reader)

So! I thought I should throw ya’ll a bone and post the Illumi fic I posted to my quotev a while ago. This first part isn’t all that interesting, but it picks up, I promise.

Warnings: Yandere, Illumi, nothing too bad in this part, tho ngl, the later parts get pretty dark.

If there was one thing Illumi hated most, it was when his targets threw parties. He understood that these were great opportunities to sneak in and gather intel, or even go ahead and take out said target, but he wasn't a super big fan of being reminded of how he had yet to get himself a wife. It wasn't that Illumi struggled to attract women, it was simply that he couldn't exactly find a woman who could get along with his family, bear children, of course, and, if he were to be completely honest, put up with him at the bare minimum.

That lack of a partner bugged him the most when he was forced to go into such social events as the one he was currently meandering through the backyard of an extravagant home, holding a tray of drinks, wearing a stolen butler outfit and handing out drinks to those he passed without one while he kept a covert eye on the man he was sent to kill. At least he had that task to occupy his mind and block out the many couples around him, mingling, talking to other pairs, doing inappropriate things under the covers of nicely trimmed plants and the darkness of night, or flirting within their own couplings. Though, the smug blonde he called his target did bring another level of resentment out of the quiet assassin, so he wasn't exactly thrilled with that option of thought either. Illumi had been on this job for a stretch of two weeks, fourteen days, which spit in the face of his usual time of a week for each job at most. So, now the raven haired man was extra cranky towards the primly dressed blonde business man he called a target. That, along with this one man's absolute refusal to be without at least two women at any time was ruining Illumi's reputation for being a fast working and efficient killer and just eating at him in general. That wasn't even mentioning the man's eerie timing of only being alone for long periods when the assassin just so happened to be forced to do things like sleep, or eat. All around, Illumi was not doing well and it was beginning to seep through his mask of cool indifference in small ways.

Tonight though, he was determined to finish his task. The butler he'd murdered and disposed of in the trash would have to forgive his waning amount of patience and possibly overly painful dispatching of him. It was for a good cause, the long haired assassin needed a disguise so he could blend in to this lascivious get together, and being a part of the wait staff gave him a very easy and clean way to finally rid himself of this aggravatingly social hit. So, when he saw his target finish off his drink, the lanky assassin meandered over and simply handed him another without a word, though this one he'd made instead of the bartender. As he walked away, Illumi checked his tray of drinks, just to be sure that his target did indeed get the poisoned liquor he'd kept on his tray and away from the other guests specially for the blonde host.

As the assassin was checking his work, he ran into you, a young woman with (h/l), (h/c) hair and (s/c) skin. "oh my god, are you okay?" You asked, hopping up from the floor where Illumi had knocked you in his slip of attention. Really, it was his own fault for failing to notice you, but you reacting so swiftly with concern for the tall assassin, who hadn't done more than step back when bumped into, was new, and unexpected to say the least. It wasn't very often that someone showed much concern for his well-being, after all, let alone a stranger doing so. It intrigued the man, to say the least. "Uh...sir?" Your voice brought him out of his thoughts, "oh, sorry, my mistake." he said simply, turning to leave as the host of the party began coughing, a sign the poison was beginning to take effect, however, before he could make his escape, you spoke again, forcing him to stop and turn back to you. At least, it allowed his dark eyes to look you over. Not much, your dress wasn't as flashy as the rest, rather modest actually, as were your curves, at least, compared to some of the females he'd seen, which further sparked his curiosity. Why was someone so plain at such a flashy and over-indulgent party? "oh no, it was my fault for bumping into you, I just wanted to know if you were okay," you explained, your voice once again drawing his attention back to reality and further perplexing the assassin, but he couldn't just leave, that was rude and drew attention to himself, so he just gave a small nod and walked away, satisfying your concerns and making his escape from the scene before his target died and a panic ensued.

#Illumi #yandere Illumi #x reader #fanfiction #illumi zoldyck #hxh #hunter x hunter #illumi x reader #yandere #part 1 #quotev

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the-darklings · 4 years

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coa one year later & self-reflection

(*drags out a creaky metal chair and plops down on it heavily*)

Hi. It’s me, ya boi skinny--

Wait, wrong one. Do over.

Hi, it’s me, Kat, and I’m not dead. Clearly. Today being one year anniversary of COA has kinda put me in a reflective mood, so I guess I decided to sit down and just...talk about some things, thoughts and feelings I’ve been bottling inside for a hot sec. Especially given how radio silent I have gone on here and people deserve a bit of perspective.

And before anyone starts worrying, it’s all good, and I’m still around and currently in good health for the most part.

So, let’s take it back to the start. Regardless of how dramatic it may sound, we need to go back a year for that.

By technicality alone, COA actually turned one year old on October 12th. That’s when the first part was posted. However, the reason I’m treating today as the aforementioned birthday is simple: I had no intention of this story ever being more than a short two-parter. I told this to the discord gang already but COA was only going to have two parts. V was going to die in Tokyo and the rest of the story follows glimpses of John throughout the movies and it’s her ghost that haunts him. Skipping ahead, it was going to have a bittersweet ending of John eventually dying, having completed his task, only to be greeted by V, Daisy and Helen in the afterlife. A peace of sorts. Then, I realised that, well, no. I have more to say on this world and intrigue about this placeholder character V kept growing.

November 1st happened and I made a very last minute call to continue COA but with the added pressure of doing it during NaNoWriMo 2019. And boy did I. Most of the story was figured out during that very intense month. I posted Part 2 on this day a year ago because I was so eager to share it. Perhaps, in retrospect, a bit too eager.

For those of you who may not know this, I work as a writer full time for my actual every day job. I’m the main writer for an original webcomic called In the Bleak Midwinter on Webtoon.com and have been for almost two years now. Getting what is essentially your dream job is amazing. I’m very lucky on that front but it also taught me stark realities of having your job and only hobby overlap. It’s a dangerous creative mix. Especially because I was not used to being constraint in what I create or the feeling like I have to please anyone else. Writing as a job is a whole other avenue of creative exhaustion. I love my job a lot and am very, very lucky to have it but it doesn’t change the fact that those initial stages made me fall back on COA a lot for creative freedom that I craved so desperately. To an unhealthy degree looking back on it now.

But going back to November last year. NaNo time. I did it. Finished on the 24/25th I believe. A juicy final count of 52k+. All while maintaining a weekly update schedule for a fic that usually hit around 10k per update, if not more, even during those early days. Add writing an original story on top of that. Writing every day for hours on end (we are talking 10-12hr days) without any time for other hobbies or time for myself in general. I kept pushing and pushing and pushing. Losing weight and sleep in the process. I think the thing that convinced me that I should continue doing so is the fact that the outpour of support for COA ended up surpassing anything I ever expected or even dared to hope for. I’m not a huge numbers person but the outpour of love and just sheer investment in the story and characters blew me away. John Wick fandom is on the smaller side and has been going through downtime when I posted COA so my expectations were...well, small tbh. I like keeping expectations low to avoid any disappointments in general. But I’ve also always had an issue of being a massive 0 or 100 kind of person. If I love something, it consumes me. In this case, it brought me as much joy and freedom as much as it was steadily pushing me towards the ultimate crash.

That being said, I can’t thank you all enough for every comment, like, reblog and message and fanart. You’re the reason I got this far. With your support. It brightened some really dark days for me.

But.

To be frank, it’s never been about you guys. I never wrote or pushed because I felt like I had to appease anyone. That creative mindset is pure poison and I long since learned to let go of it. I kept pushing and kept working myself to the bone because I liked it. I liked how reading peoples’ responses made me feel. I liked the addictive nature of reading all the comments and theories after an update. I loved the idea of brightening peoples’ days and giving them something to cheer them up after what might have been a shitty day. Even if that was at expense of my own time/well being. But for a long time, it wasn’t. I love writing a lot but facts remain facts.

It was beyond unhealthy and burnout wasn’t a question of if but when and that when was approaching at neck-breaking speed.

So we come to the end of November. Part 4 has just come out. People were invested and I was invested alongside them. I was just finishing up Part 5 which (back then) was the biggest single chapter I’ve ever written and god I still recall my sheer dread because that was the beginning of Santino being established as a LI. Looking back on that now, it’s downright hilarious how worried I was about the reception of him and V together after John.

So honestly, I hit burnout at around Part 8. Because that’s the first time I recall struggling with writing a chapter. Part 8 came out on December 28th. I had a brief break for holidays. But my mistake was not taking longer back then. Because I continued writing with a barely healed burnout. Followed by almost a year of struggling and continuously creating through that state. It wasn’t like I eased off the pressure, either. Oh, no. The chapters grew in size, the world and the characters with it. AUs amassed quickly and while I adore every single one - again, I didn’t know how to pace myself well enough.

I’m spiteful though. The more the chapters struggled the more I pushed against the burnout. By the time Chicago arrived, however, I knew I was in trouble. I ended up writing 43k+ in a span of 2 months, I believe. And while to some it may not seem like a lot given the time frame, it’s a lot when you’re burnout to a crisp & writing an original story for work + deadlines. Which I was burned out and then some. Chicago was something I was looking forward to writing for months. I have built it up since Part 4. It was a long time coming. So while I’m still proud of it, I would be lying if I said that some scenes were not sacrificed for the sake of keeping to my invisible schedule that no one but me actually cared about. You guys have always been patient. I never felt pushed into anything. It’s always only ever been me doing the harm.

Chicago was the downwards spiral for me mentally. I felt like I was failing to live up to my own expectations. That people were drifting away from it. I was plagued by the thought that the story I poured so much into was falling apart and growing weaker. Which this has always been an issue with me: I am my own harshest critic. Always have been. In fact, I’m a downright mean little fucker when it comes to just tearing at myself. I know writing is for fun - and it is - but I still like the idea of being proud of my work which only made everything worse despite the love each update received.

This takes us to the beginning of June. Specifically, June the 2nd. Or, as I like to call it: Kat Makes Another Impulsive Decision but This One Actually Works Out For the Better. On this day, I created the COA Discord server. And damn, I’m not sure what exactly I was expecting when I did ngl. I did it for fun and as an escape more so than anything. But somehow it ended up being the best decision I made in a long while. I know some of you are reading this. So love you lots, dorks. It’s such a privilege to be able to call so many of you my friends even outside of COA now. That little community has given me some of the best memories from this year and helped me to crawl out of my own metaphorical pit I was stuck in. Mentally, I’m doing much better than I did beginning of this summer. Which could be summed up as a constant self-hatred cycle and a feeling of inadequacy.

That, however, does not mean my burnout magically disappeared. If anything Chapter 17 just put a nail in the coffin so to speak. 2020 has been a shitty year just across the board for obvious reasons I don’t need to go into here but that can only partially be attributed to my mental state. Chapter 17 was...exhaustive. To say the least. But I was determined to stick with my vision and not split it up. I was also starting to be a bit more forgiving towards myself in terms of how long I may take to write it thanks to guys on discord though the feeling of failure and worry never quite faded fully. I’m proud of Part 17. Truly. But that was also when I hit rock bottom creatively on COA. It drained me completely.

I tried writing Part 18 for weeks after, day in and day out, not getting past the first scene and hating every word I wrote. So I took a deep breath and stopped. Figured I let it marinate and wait instead of trying to piece one of the most crucial chapters in this story like some Frankenstein monster two sentences at the time.

So my solution was simple: give myself some distance from it and write other things. Get my spark back. Of course that’s always a good idea. Having multiple creative escapes is the best thing you can do for yourself creatively. There was just one tiny little problem.

I was still burned out. Still am. The problem went deeper than just being burned out over COA. I was burned out over writing itself.

Which is an issue for a person who only has writing as a creative outlet.

I don’t have any other way to express myself. So I was stuck in a runt, trying to write because it’s the only thing that makes me genuinely happy even when I really shouldn’t have. And let me tell you. It’s a shitty fucking feeling. My burnout worsened. I had a thousand ideas but every time I tried to get them down it felt forced, fragmented, and weak. Repetitive and dry. Now, this is also in part because English isn’t my native language, so my vocab is limited as a result, but I hit that sweet rock bottom in that regard, too.

So, I worked on V (but in her OC form Clara), Lucien and The Elites. All those characters have grown so much since you last read about them. I have multiple original projects planned down the line that will feature all of them existing in their own world, with their own stories and no longer constrained by JW canon.

Which, finally, takes us to the end of October and beginning of November 2020.

I was convinced that the best course of action was to do NaNo again but with an original story this time (involving V). Suffice to say, it took a grand total of maybe 5-6 days and hating every second of writing it while also feeling like this project I’m so passionate and excited to write (still am) is just...going down the toilet to be blunt, to realise I may have made the wrong call.

Still, the stubborn ass that I am, I pushed through. Convinced I can get into it if I just keep going. The realizations that I am sharing with you right now won’t have been possible if it hadn’t been for a rather curious turn of events about a week and a half ago.

I recently bought a gaming laptop, all in preparation for Cyberpunk 2077 dropping ofc. But, in the meantime, I kept recommending a game to a friend on the COA server. That game? Far Cry 5. (It’s a blast to play btw, just a side note.) And playing it brought back all the feelings of nostalgia from the days when I used to write for that fandom. So I revisited some old work. Checked the stuff I never published and that has been sitting ducks in my docs for months and hoo boy. Let me tell you it was a vibe check of the worst kind.

The stark difference in the prose and the ease with which it flowed was...startling. It made me remember why I love writing so much and how proud I used to be of what I wrote back in the day. Which is not to say I’m not proud now, but it was just such a sharp dip in quality it was impossible to ignore.

So I didn’t.

I paused NaNo, moving it to another month. I paused writing for everything but work, which with our season coming to an end I will also get a rest from soon, too. I kinda paused in general. For the first time in a while, I finally forced myself to switch off. Rest.

The reason why I haven’t been on here is simple: guilt and not having energy to be on here. I like making my blog a safe space for everyone. Similar to escape it has become for me. I couldn’t pretend I was fine when I wasn’t. I felt obliged to perform and being here became exhausting. I haven’t been checking my inbox. Haven’t done much of anything except occasionally dropping by and reblogging a random post so people know I’m alive.

And that’s that, folks. That’s where I am currently. Resting. Completely exhausted mentally but resting. Getting my energy back.

So where does that leave us, huh? If you read this far, dunno what to tell you. Thanks, I suppose. It’s still odd to think people actually care about my existence sometimes.

I know what you’re likely thinking, too. So does this mean COA is never gonna be finished? What is gonna happen to it? Are you abandoning it?

The answer: no. 17 out of 25 chapters and 250k+ in, I’m too far in not to give it a proper conclusion. Not because I owe it to anyone other than myself. I want this story to be a stepping stone for my future as a writer. I want to prove to myself that I can get this done and finish it. As of right now (as you can no doubt tell with how long it’s been since last update) it’s on a soft hiatus while I rest. This rest? Not sure how long it may last. Right now, my plan is till mid December at which point I will reevaluate. Ideally, I finish the year with an update. But my New Year’s resolution is to finish COA. That timeline has become a little more murky now but, again, ideally it’s within the first quarter of 2021. Will that happen? I don’t know. And I don’t want to make false promises, either.

All I’m saying is that it will be done. I’m just no longer sure how long, exactly, it may take me to reach that Epilogue. I don’t expect many people to stick around for however long it may take me, but if you do, thank you. Truly. I really and deeply mean that.

So what’s on the cards for this blog in the meantime? Well, CP77 is coming out in under a month (if it doesn’t get moved again lmao rip) and I expect that to be my soft return to posting my writing on here again. We will see where the muse takes me, if at all. Regardless though, I’m excited.

One doctorate thesis later, here we are at the end of this really long rambling session. I hope that this has given you some perspective on things going on behind the scenes. I spared you some of the gorier details but I think this post has been long overdue. I suppose I, myself, was just too unwilling to face these things despite knowing about them deep down for a while now. I’m too self-critical not to notice but acting on correcting this behavior has been a whole other matter clearly.

Thank you for reading this post, my writing in general, and supporting me. I’m not going anywhere. I’m still around. More is on the way in the future. I’ll be seeing you all real soon. And all my love to all of you.

Love,

- Kat.

#kat speaks #blog psa #i suppose

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zelzenik · 3 years

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i just finished Age of Calamity, and i'm like.... i'm in tears?!?! in tears or close to it

oh my gosh

this is going to be a disorganized rant, sorry in advance </33

/// spoilers incoming ///

okay i got this game on release day. i wasn't able to touch it until recently because irl's been actually insane

i've been going through it recently so i decided to start playing it, if only for some stress relief

somehow, i managed to avoid most spoilers (thankfully, even tho i started playing mad late), but i did hear a lot of ppl's opinions on the storyline and characterizations and stuff

i tend to pick things apart a ton bc i'm a very analytical person so i went into this game determined to NOT do that, lol

(i'm very glad that i did.)

Nintendo really went, "yes, we know the timeline for this franchise is already hella screwed so why even bother fixing it? </333"

i purposefully tried to distance myself mentally from BotW and previous Zelda titles because it's Hyrule Warriors and i just wanted to enjoy the game for what it was

i'm just... i'm...

the story is a whole mess, but for what it's worth, it made me feel something. seeing Zelda's struggle through her own eyes as opposed to Link's was really touching, and i found myself relating to her a lot as the story progressed

i think that the way they chose to focus on Zelda more instead of Link through this storyline was kind of cool. i know we don't usually get to see a ton of depth with Link, but we usually see even less with Zelda incarnations, and this felt really special

i'm such a Zelda stan, can you tell?

Impa was cool! she looked too much like Paya to me tho ;-; i kept calling her Paya kjfghkdhfg. her playstyle was difficult for me to master at first, but i can appreciate her (and her devotion to the King/Princess)

i also appreciated the further characterization of the Champions. as usual, Revali and Urbosa had the most personality, i feel, with Mipha and Daruk a bit slighted. even still, seeing Daruk afraid of dogs and Mipha with baby Sidon and Urbosa calling Zelda little bird and Revali failing then succeeding in front of Zelda just felt so perfect. it made me so SOFT

being able to play as the Champions was so cool. i appreciated them all individually, but my favorite is Revali (i just love my arrogant archer birb, and i'm not a Revali local). i loved him instantly from BotW when most of the fandom was slandering him. Urbosa's lightning gauge is brilliant, and tossing her shield around like a frisbee is goals. Daruk being a slow, powerful roly poly was a 10/10 experience, and using Mipha's Grace as Mipha was kind of surreal after like 500-600 hours' worth of BotW. using all the Champions' abilities while playing as the Champions was incredible

bruh, okay, tbh, i loved Hestu in BotW, but making him a playable character in AoC was a questionable choice imo...... AND HE'S VOICED BY THE SAME PERSON AS MARINETTE??? he so slowww. but he kinda cute? i don't use him that much ;-;

lowkey everything kinda went downhill after Hestu tho in terms of continuity within the game itself

random time travel glitch in the matrix to bring Riju, Teba, Sidon, and Yunobo to the scene </3333

playing as Riju is kinda rough; i still haven't grasped the rhythm that comes w playing her yet, but she and Patricia are such a dope team. Teba is EVERYTHING; i loved having another archer to play as, and his glide is so cool. Sidon's surf shark is genius, and his combos flow fluidly (ew, pun). Yunobo... is Yunobo. i don't think i used him very much kjdfgkjdfhg

the Great Fairies were an... interesting addition? so was Monk Maz Koshia? i don't use them much either, lol

BUT MASTER KOHGA LOL. ngl i love seeing various interpretations of the Yiga Clan (ones where they're sinister, ones where they're devious, ones where they're bloodthirsty), but seeing them as silly bad-guys-turned-good was cool. Kohga's surprisingly easy to use too?? he's such a clown, and i appreciate it

King Rhoam is a jerk. but he also has a cool playstyle, and i honestly... ugh, i wish Nintendo would let Zelda and Link have non-dysfunctional parents. whenever i write fic using Rhoam, he's not going to be a jerk bc both he and Zelda deserve better ;-; his little beard stroke whenever he does a special move, lol

idk if i'm forgetting any characters, but... if i did, i don't use them </3

my mains were Zelda and Revali with Link, Sidon, Teba, and Rhoam as supports. i also really liked Urbosa, Daruk, and Kohga but used them less for some reason

but YEAHH. after 67 hours later, 73% of my map is completed, and i'm finally done with the main storyline

i feel... happy ish now. life is difficult right now, but this game made it even a little bit more bearable for me, and i think that that's part of its beauty

gosh, i could write meta after meta abt this game, but i probably won't because i want the magic to still be fresh in my mind

i'm #emotional now

#hwaoc #hyrule warriors #age of calamity #personal #long post #sorry #but also #kjfgkjdfgkdjfhg #i'm so emotional #tloz is my comfort series #and i'm just #i ;-;#life really has been difficult #but hwaoc has pulled me through the last few weeks

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dfwemelie · 5 years

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August🔥

August 5th. I finally got my phone back from the cruise and omfg I wanna go back so bad. It was so incredibly fun and I met alot of amazing people. I met Gage, Taylor, Emma, Destiny, Dezi, Josh, Jacob, DJ, Andre, Adam, Daniel, Ty, Preston, Eddy, Aiden, and so many more people. It was such an experience and definitely the best birthday I've ever had. None of them are gonna read this but thank you to everyone who made my first cruise and my 16th birthday so awesome. I love and will miss everyone.

I got to watch Gavin today cause Sebastian has a eye doctors appointment which is not fun for me. I also have to get my school schedule today cause I wasnt able to on the 1st cause I was in Cozumel. I'm really hoping I get classes with my friends. I'll be upset if I didn't but itll be okay. If I dont I'll just be known as the quiet girl again.

August 6, I have to force myself to stop liking swedish boy but ngl it's so fucking hard. Hes perfect for me. God fucking damn it why does he gotta live so far. Why do I have to get so attached to people so quickly. I just get left in agonizing pain again and again. it's just a constant state of heartbreak. I hate this. I hate myself. He told me hes forcing himself to stop liking me cause he knows there is no way of us meeting. That really broke me. I keep saying it's fine but it's not. Why do I do this to myself. Why cant I just stay away from all of it like I wanted to in the first place. None of it matters anymore. I guess the only thing I can try to do is move on. I was talking to Parker about it and he said if he really did like me then he would try all he could to make it work. Ugh I just wish he could make it work. Hes not my cute swedish boi anymore, just a guy I met on tiktok. It hurts saying that but that's all itll ever be now. My tiny little sliver of hope that I had was incinerated by the flames of tragedy. I gotta move on. I dont wanna move on. I have to though. It hurts. Its weird not seeing his name as Swedish boi now when he texts me. He asked me to change it.

August 9th, I went driving today and i did kinda good. I went on Birnhamwoods and i was scared but i did good. My mom doesnt know how to give directions. Other than that I've just been in bed all day again. I've been watching Jane The Virgin season 5 with Misty and so many things are happening it's great. Theres 5 days till school and I want to go back but I really dont want to. First I'm gonna have to see Gage and that's gonna be hella awkward. We havent talked since he blocked me like a month or 2 ago. I also have to give Scott his stuff back and that's really gonna hurt. I don't tell anyone but I still wear his jacket sometimes. I know it's bad and I need to stop but I cant help it. I cant help the fact I still miss him. But now I gotta give it back to him. By me doing that it means its really over. I guess that's how its gonna be now. Just over. I gotta ignore the fact that I loved him and he was my first. But now it's gone and I have to accept that. I'm just gonna stop trying ya know. Im tired of getting my heart broken. I just need to be alone from everyone for awhile.

August 10th, Yesterday I was playing with the boys and needed to switch the party from my phone to the xbox. My headset was dead so I asked sebastian for his charger cause I lost mine. He said no but I took it anyways. He knew I was gonna take it so he rat me out to my parents and told me to give it back. I asked if I could borrow it again and he said no. I was angry so I grabbed his headset and threw it on the ground, breaking it. My dad heard and ran up the stairs and started yelling at me. He told me to clean my room so I locked myself in the bathroom. They took my phone, xbox cable, and TV cable. My mom tried talking to me but I didn't say anything, only that I wanted my phone back. While everyone was distracted I grabbed pillows, blankets, markers, and my fan and slept in the bathroom as a protest. At around 1am my mom gave me back my phone and said she deleted everything. I was pissed. But I'm fine now.

I went driving today again. We went through benders and looked at the rich people houses. Must be nice not being broke. I also drove to Kroger which I was nervous about since there were so many cars but I did good. I even parked, not perfectly but in the spot. My dad felt bad about yesterday and got me Starbucks. School is starting up soon and I'm excited to see kaylie but that's it. Not looking forward to giving Scott his jacket back. I'm just gonna walk up to him, say nothing, and hand it to him. I'm gonna stop talking about it before I start crying again lol

August 14th,First day of school and I've already cried twice. Scott kept talking about how he broke up with me and how he feels bad about how he did it and regrets it. Then he asked me about Gavin was and I said he really fucking misses him, cause he does. Then the bell rang and I cried walking out. Other than that it was an okay day. Coach Clair remembered me and I was really happy about that. Also my son Jadon is in that class and that made me happy.

August 15th, I'm in chemistry rn and I fucking hate it. I don't think there are any juniors in here and it sucks. I feel like shjt that I failed this class. It wasn't my fault though. I really hate this. It makes me really nervous and anxious and emotional. I'm not gonna cry but I wish I could. Everyone knows eachother and I don't know anyone. I wish I was in Physics instead but i guess that's harder than Chemistry. Now I'm in level chemistry so its gonna be easier cause I struggled with how fast they were teaching.

Looks like I gotta reset my days clean tonight.

I met this guy named Allon yesterday. I see him everyday since he's in my culinary and he's also in my history and my English. He seems cool and is friends with Eugene. Culinary was fun today, we did a speed dating thing and it was awkward at first but once we got to talking to everyone it was easy.

August 16th, its Friday. School is done for the week. I was upset today cause they changed my history teacher and I loved him. Now they put me with this monotone teacher Mr.Horton. it's weird cause there is only like 10 kids in that class. I am now also in Livestock production and there are 12 student in there including me now. I don't know why some of the classes are so small, there are over 2,000 students at gohs now. In culinary we had to split up in groups and I went with Eugene, Allon, Adam, and Tamara. They are a really fun group. I almost feel bad for leaving Michael to be in a group with a bunch of people he doesnt know but he would've had to choose to sit with them or Eugene so I sat with them so he didnt have to. I had alot of fun. I already know culinary is gonna be my favorite class this year. Mrs.Langley says we aren't allowed to choose our groups this year but I hope she changes her mind. Allon seems really nice. I got his snapchat and we've been talking alot. He has the cutest fucking poodle ever. I see him everyday, not just cause of culinary but hes in my blue day English.

August 18th, its 12:06pm and I just realized I haven't done my review for the last 2 days. I haven't done much. I've mainly been texting Allon and watching Netflix.

August 19th, I try to sleep away my depression. It doesn't work

August 20th, by far one of the worst things about grand oaks this year is the bus situation. There are way too many kids on each bus and they have to get more busses cause it's so over crowded.

Last night was okay, I played Apex with Eugene then after we just talked for an hour. He was the main person talking he kept saying he felt bad for talking so much but I told him I'm a good listener so it was okay. We talked about some deep stuff and we actually have alot in common. We both overthink situations and create random scenarios in our head that would never happen but like what if they did. I almost feel kinda bad about talking to Eugene so much cause Michael hates him and I consider them both of my friends. I've just known Michael for so long but I have alot in common Eugene. More than I thought. I've kinda been leaning away from Michael and from my friends in general. I feel horrible for doing it but I don't want to completely cut them out of my life cause they've been in my life for so long. I guess I've kinda just grew out of some friendships, mainly Michael and I's. Idk maybe I'm just talking too much and should just keep everything how it is.

August 22nd, okay so update. Derek hit me up and I'm like ew but whatever. Allon is making me watch pokemon and ngl kinda love it. My hair is curly. We stan. I feel sick but that's cause I ate a sandwich and kept moving around. Also my back hurts. I wanna die. I'm at the bus stop. Its humid. Ew. Gross. I hate myself. That's it. Goodnight.

August 23, I was kinda quiet in culinary today and everyone was very concerned apparently. I spoke maybe 10 words. I dont know the exact reason but it was mainly thinking about Scott and the fact I kinda feel left out alot of the time. I don't even know why I'm still thinking about him, maybe I should take the time over the weekend to try to stop thinking about him. I feel left out alot in culinary, and in life in general. Culinary cause I sit with all guys and they talk about things I dont really know. I dont feel like talking about it anymore. Goodnight

August 28th, not much has happened since I last updated. I played minecraft with Allon last night and it was pretty fun. He died twice and it was super funny. Before he left we talked about just life. How we've both given up on relationships in general cause we've been fucked over so many times. Which I think is weird cause I keep getting mixed signals from him that he likes me but he also thinks of me as a friend. It's weird. But yea he also asked me if I was gonna go to homecoming this year and I told him I would if someone asked me but other than that I probably wouldnt. Yeah and then he left and I cried myself to sleep cause i talk to my ceiling about how lonely i feel at night. Yeah that's it.

I have such bad luck with guys holy shit I hate myself

August 29th, I played more Minecraft with Allon yesterday. We played for 3 hours lol. It was really fun. We both kept dying in the nether and we also kept killing eachother. I still get confused on whether he likes me or not. So many mixed signals it's crazy. I forgot my chemistry notebook at home and I'm very upset about that but oh well. I get to see Julian today so that's gonna be interesting. I keep seeing Scott everywhere I go and it just makes me so incredibly sad. I wish it didnt but it does. I'm sitting next to Johan and it's very obvious he likes me. I feel bad for not liking him back but I cant help for the fact that I will only see him as a friend. I think the whole Scott thing is playing a part in it too. I dont wanna date Johan cause it means I'll be around him more often. I really miss him but I dont. I want him in my life but I dont. Ya know? I'm confusing myself. Carlos and his friend walked to my house yesterday to get his phone and wallet back. It was funny cause there was alot of lightning and thu der and Carlos got hella scared. My mom pulled up and we drove them home.

August 31st, ah the end. I've played minecraft with Allon all day except for when I went to Akashi. Lifes been okay. I still think about him alot but I'm getting better. At least I feel like I am. Hopefully. I know it takes time but fuck I'm impatient. I miss Kaylie. I like culinary. I've officially established a group. It's me, Allon, Eugene, Adam, and the occasional Ty and Tamara. It's great. I'm happy I've made friends. Also I have a new friend in fashion. I'm trying to plan ahead on outfits for the show and I already have my whole 5 outfits but I need my fashion sketchbook to come in quick cause I'm dying from not drawing these. Adam has concluded I'm addicted to vitamin water. This month was ight. Hopefully I get better next month.

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xadoheandterra · 5 years

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@gdipalomo I really struggled on this because fuck I couldn’t think of anything worth it involving found family that wasn’t angsty as all shit (my depression is coloring shit) but I finally got something together although I’m still not too happy with it. Hope you enjoy this mess of a fic! (I was gonna draw, but I couldn’t find my pencils...so I had to write something instead) Also ngl I reference my favorite Christmas Movie in this. Santa Clause is the BOMB and I will fight any who say otherwise.

Eight Little Lights

Winter was not something easily discerned in Blood Gulch, but Church had an internal clock now that he could read the day and time from as simple as could be—except even now Church found himself distracted with the insanity of the Reds, and even of the Blues, enough that he didn’t realize the date and the time until it was the day of. To be fair Church had never been the best Jew when he’d been alive—to concerned with the science of the world, computers, attempting to be a good soldier and failing—and then failing at—at something he couldn’t remember.

(Charmaine)

(David)

(being a father)

(except that wasn’t him, really)

(even if he wanted it to be)

When it did strike him, the date, time, the significance, Church felt like a gut punch had torn through him. His father would’ve had his head as a kid for forgetting—his grandmother would’ve scolded him something fierce even more—and it made him miss them for the first time in forever because for the first time in forever Church was aware. He’d never been the best Jew, that was to be fair, but he’d not once ignored the Menorah when the time came. Except now there was no Menorah, no candles to light, nothing to say for himself despite the observed tradition for twenty strong years. It tasted like ash.

As the sun dipped beneath the canyon walls that night Church didn’t light a Menorah, didn’t recite the payers, and felt like a generally shitty person for the lack of any real observance something that had been normal before Blood Gulch. Instead Church stared up at the starry night sky and wondered how his life got to be this.

Tucker dragged Church out with the promise of little nuanced talk, shooting the shit, and trying to figure out what Grif and Simmons were saying upon Red Base. Church sat against one edge, Tucker laid flat even though both knew that neither Grif nor Simmons would ever shoot at them. Blood Gulch was a game they kept going because it was familiar and because it was expected but no one really intended to kill one another anymore. Not since Flowers died.

“I swear their flirting,” Tucker grumbled. “The two should just fuck already and get it over with.”

Church snorted. “Please. Those two will continue to dance around one another until they’ve got no other choice.”

“Should just get the both of them drunk and stuff them in a closet. Think that would work?” Tucker glanced up at Church who cracked a grin, helmet off.

“Nah, I say tell ‘em they’ve beathed in magic sex pollen or something like from one of your porno’s. And get them drink. Then stick them in a closet. It would do them a load of good, wouldn’t it?”

“Damn straight,” Tucker snickered, reached out, and fist bumped Church with a grin.

Later that night Church sat atop the base and once more watched the stars, didn’t light a Menorah, didn’t’ say his prayers, and tried not to think about how upset his grandmother would be over his failings to get something this simple right. He did see Tucker sneak off the base in the middle of the night, and it made him wonder, but then he saw Tucker heading to Red Base and decided he didn’t want to know.

The third night was actually Donut’s Wine and Cheese Hour so Church found himself for a little while just forgetting and relaxing and it was blissfully perfect. Sarge really knew how to put together a functioning robotic body and fuck he didn’t realize how much he missed things like sex until he had a physical means to do so.

Sneaking into one of the heads of the various Reds and Blues as they masturbated—mainly Tucker—really didn’t quite cut it as physically being capable of something like an erection and arousal and Church had no idea what it was about Donut or the Wine and Cheese Hour that tended to become sex. It was different when it was him and Tex because those things were a violent mess of regret. This shit with Donut was different and Church liked it. His happy little bisexual ass wanted to be pampered from time to time and Donut liked to do the pampering.

Church took what he could get, let himself feel a small sliver of happiness in a cesspit of grey and depression, and moved on with his life. He didn’t quite fall asleep—he couldn’t sleep these days, but he drifted in static afterward feeling like a warm puddle of computer goo and it was nice.

The fourth day had always meant something special during Hanukah for Church and he couldn’t identify why, but as the day dawned and then moved toward dusk despite having a happy, wonderful night the night before the melancholy bit itself back into his mind with a vengeance. Church stayed in his room all day on base and stared at a photo of Tex and wondered what it was he forgot. There was something about the image that was so wrong, that had been so wrong since Blood Gulch and maybe before that even, and it gnawed at him. What was he missing?

(Allison was dead)

(it’d been just him and Charmaine for years)

(so then where was she?)

(where were the kids?)

(where was his daughter?)

Caboose lingered out of his doorway like a bad smell and more than once Church tossed a pillow, a lamp, anything at the door to get the behemoth to leave him alone because that was what he wanted. To be left alone with memories that didn’t line up quite right, with a tradition that didn’t fit, and the realization that his family was incomplete. Church ground his teeth together and tried to ignore the way Caboose spoke to Tucker in a loud whisper.

“He’s angry right now.”

“Yeah I know man. Any idea what?”

“I didn’t do it.”

“I get that dude. Maybe it’s something important about the date? Do you know what’s important about the date?”

“The santa man is coming soon. Could that be it?”

“…fuck, maybe?”

“FUCK OFF ASSHOLES!” Church screamed, threw the desk at the door, and buried himself in blankets into the silence.

Day five; still no Menorah, still feeling like an utter shitheel of a human being—dead or otherwise—and Grif shouldered open Churchs blocked off door. He was out of armor which when Grif came by the base for reasons not pertaining to ‘Red versus Blue’ he was typically sans armor—it was how they showed they meant things to be more casual than anything although usually one of the guys had something armored somewhere. Caboose was a disaster of a man and no one was safe except, for some reason, Grif. Still his arms were packed full of snack cakes and a few shitty holiday movies. Some were titles Church recognized.

“Bum over we’re having a movie day,” was all Grif said as he shoved Church to the side, piled the snacks onto the bed, and commandeered his computer.

“The fuck?” Church mumbled faintly to himself, too exhausted to really care that his space was being invaded right now. He found himself with handfuls of candy, the kind that had hidden gifts instead, Church noted, all were uniquely holiday themed although not all were necessarily Christmas themed but they were definitely holiday themed.

“I’m putting on a favorite, so deal with it,” Grif said and put in some old santa related movie that Church vaguely recognized.

“Is that…Tim fuckshisname?” Church cocked his head. He wasn’t too certain of some of the old actors that were well before his time, but he thought he recognized this one.

“Tim Allen,” Grif nodded, “and yeah.”

“…I think I remember this one.”

“Good. Then enjoy it, will you?”

Church let himself be manhandled until he found himself squashed next to Grif, the pile of candies littered in front of him, eyes glued to the computer screen as Tim Allen’s character got drawn into being Santa through magic and bullshit and bad luck. It was funny, and it was something Church didn’t realize he needed until he did and it was there.

Church’s gaze may or may not have lingered on the dreidel that very briefly entered the screen and then left, and he may have mumbled, “Used to have one of those,” half into candy that he couldn’t digest as he watched the movie with rapt attention. Grif didn’t say anything if he did.

Day six and seven of the week blurred together with restless energy that Church spent cleaning up after Grif left the following morning. He hated the way the base looked, so he cleaned. He reorganized. He reorganized again. He reorganized things a third time. Eventually an intervention was needed and it came in the form of Sarge who stormed up dressed completely in armor because it’s Sarge and Church was pretty sure the bastard slept in his red suit.

“Quit yer frenzied nonsense right this dangnabbit minute!” Sarge hollered, enough to stop Church just outside of the base who blinked and stared and wondered what he did to deserve this. “It’s a right eyesore and those two lugheads can’t stop jabberin’ about it. I can’t take it no more!”

“What?”

“Jes shoot at us or enact your damn dirty blue plot already you heathen and quit it with the cleanin’ torture!”

“What?”

Church stared, baffled at the man as he ranted and raved about the depravity of a Blue cleaning and couldn’t quite parse what he was hearing. This wasn’t typical Sarge behavior at all as usually when the man came over it was to berate Church for not taking care of himself, to beg him to come and surrender already and ‘rescue’ one of his ‘captured teammates’ or to make surrender himself for the ‘return’ of ‘one of his men’ that Church somehow captured and/or brainwashed. Church could never quite parse the insanity that tumbled out of Sarge’s mouth and blamed ninety percent of it on trauma left over from the man’s helljumper days.

Eventually Sarge took Church’s silent staring as compliance and left. Church didn’t go back to cleaning and instead wondered what alien came and replaced Sarge this time.

The last day was beautiful and Church didn’t want to get out of bed. By the time night would roll around he’d have spent eight days with no Menorah, no prayers, and feeling like an even shittier man that he felt going into the holidays. He didn’t want to leave his room—except it was Donut Wine and Cheese Hour day again and Church hated to miss those. Donut would come and physically drag him out of he missed one of those, whether they had sex or not.

Begrudgingly, as night began to fall, Church made his way over toward the cave system that he and Donut snuck off into for Wine and Cheese Hour even if he didn’t feel quite up to it. At first Church didn’t notice the lights, but then the bright red Christmas décor suddenly was in his face and he couldn’t ignore it. The cave looked as if someone set Caboose and a thrift store for Christmas and holiday paraphernalia at it and that just hurt Church’s eyes something fierce.

When he finally rounded the corner, resigned to going through this farce of whatever the guys had put together, it was to Caboose loudly proclaiming, “SURPRISE,” which echoed and caused everybody within earshot to groan and cry out.

Tucker snapped out, “Caboose! Use your fucking inside voice, man!” and Caboose shouted, “OOPS,” and then quieter, “oops,” as everyone groaned and yelled again.

Church eyed everyone—Sarge, Tucker, Caboose, Donut, Grif, Simmons—and the mess that surrounded them. There were piles of pretty wrapped papers, snow that Grif somehow brought into the canyon although who knew how long that would last, an actual Christmas Tree what the fuck?! It was like the guys went and just decided to dump every wintry holiday right in the middle of Donut’s Wine and Cheese Hour and Church didn’t know what to think of it.

“Here!” Donut thrust some prettily wrapped gift of weird shaped nonsense into Church’s hands. The paper tore and Church could see something metal glint inside and felt his nonexistent gut twist. “We all saw how down in the dumps you were, Church, and thought we’d better plough those holiday blues away! So we greased up and dove right in to that—”

“Donut!” Grif and Simmons both chimed in, each in scolding tone, as Tucker pulled Church just the slightest bit away.

“Open it, numbnuts,” Tucker shook his head and Church carefully tore at the wrapping paper. He was surprised to find a hand-crafted Menorah the result behind it, and even more surprised at the fact that he wanted to cry. “We all kinda saw what a little shit you were being and it took some google fu on my end to figure out what the fuck was up.”

“Next time man just tell us it’s a major fucking holiday or something,” Grif waved one hand negligently. “None of us even realized it was December until like five days ago!”

“I…” Church floundered for words. How did they even know?

“You made us put a Jewish star on you grave maker, remember?” Tucker grumbled and slung one arm over Church’s shoulders. “Once I figured out it was Hanukah Grif realized you were missing a Menorah and Simmons said something about that being important or some shit and, yeah. Here we are.”

“This way next year you’ll be able to light the candles and not feel all shitty about forgetting an important holiday tradition,” Simmons nodded.

Donut moved up around Church’s other side and leaned in. “I know it’s too late and all for this year, but we really didn’t know what was going on in that head of yours, Church. You should’ve said something!”

Church struggled to put into words what he felt, instead he hoarsely said, “You assfuckers,” with a choked off laugh a minute later when Caboose unveiled the large human sized dreidel and asked how to play.

It wasn’t perfect, not yet, but damn if it weren’t as close as—and damn if it didn’t mean the world to Church. These were his assholes, in his little box canyon, giving him holiday gifts on the last day of Hanukah and fuck if it didn’t mean the world to him. Him—the shittiest human being that ever existed.

“Fuck you all very much!”

“AND A FUCKING HAPPY NEW YEAR TO YOU TOO ASSHOLE!” Grif yelled, and they all burst out into laughter.

“A LITTLE TOO EARLY THERE FATASS!”

“Oh, are we not celebrating the birth of the baby managers son?”

Church laughed.

“It’s baby Jesus in a manger you idiot,” Tucker grumbled, “and no, we aren’t! Fuck,” and Church laughed.

Yeah, it wasn’t quite perfect, not yet, but it was as good as for this little box canyon in the middle of nowhere.

#redvsbluesecretsanta #leonard church #churchnut #found family #holiday nonsense #donut

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