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lousypotatoes · 2 months

Text

What A Glorious Feeling

This chapter takes place after the pilot but before the first episode of the series.

Reader is a falcon demon, doesn't have a beak, wings drape over her kinda like Valentino's (i want him dead), reader has gray skin, usually wears a black tube top, black and white pinstripe pants, black boots, and has a daisy in her hair. Reader has the eyes and ears of a falcon and is also slightly cannibalistic. Reader can summon any weapons at will and can move things with her mind, whenever she does this, her eyes glow red. Like Alastor, reader can also summon anything at will. If you had something else in mind for how the reader looks, you are more than welcome to imagine something different.

I know Alastor is canonically aroace, but obviously, in this story he is not. Also, in this book, nobody knows the Radio Demon's name unless he decides to tell them. Sorry I should of said this earlier.

Song Recommendation:

I Did Something Bad - Taylor Swift

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9

Present day...

"Ah Dustin," Y/N said, walking over to the man, who was cowering in the corner. "You broke our deal. You know what happens to people who don't keep their word with me, don't you?"

"Please," he begged. "Give me one more month I promise-"

"You said the exact same thing six months ago," she spat angrily, her wings unfolding.

"I swear-thi-this is the last time," he stuttered. "I just need-"

She summoned red chains, that latched onto Dustin's neck. Tugging the chains over to him, she grabbed his face, digging her claws into his cheeks. He let out a yelp of pain.

"The deal was that if I killed your pathetic wife, I'd get your soul, and you would get me what I needed from that idiot overlord who thinks he's the shit, just because he's a pimp!" Y/N snarled, digging her claws in harder, drawing blood. "I have been more then generous towards you, and this is how you repay me?"

"I'm trying!" he cried out, tears running down his face. "Please just don't kill me!"

She had a small frown on her face. "I should rip you apart limb by limb," she said, calmly but in a deadly voice. "But I'm not goin' to do that," She removed the chains from his neck and put him down.

"Thank you so much Assassin," Dustin said, wiping the blood off his cheeks. "I swear I will-"

He never finished his sentence. As fast as lighting, she summoned an axe and chopped his head clean off.

"Instead, I'll make this is as quick and painless for you," she giggled, licking off the blood from the axe. "I'll have to thank Carmilla for the angelic steel at the next overlord meeting."

Using the axe, Y/N chopped up his limbs and stuffed them in a trash bag she had brought with her.

"Cannibal town here I come," she smiled once she was done.

"Knock, knock," she said, knocking at the parlor door.

"Y/N!" Rosie exclaimed upon seeing you. "What are you doing here so soon?"

"I brought you a little somethin' to snack on," Y/N said, holding up the trash bag.

"Oh you spoil me so much, my dear," Rosie said, licking her lips.

"Anything for my closest friend," Y/N said, handing her the trash bag.

"This is the fifth one this month," Rosie said, opening up the bag. "Sinners know better than to break a deal with you."

"They'll never learn, Rosie," she giggled as she took a seat on the couch. "Did you see the news the other day?"

"The Princess sure does have her hopes up for this hotel," Rosie answered, pouring herself a cup of tea. "Tea, Y/N?"

"No thank you," Y/N answered. "Do you think anyone would actually check in to that hotel?"

"Who knows at this point," Rosie said, sipping her tea. "But judging by how people reacted, I don't think it's going to work out,"

"Shame," Y/N said. "It's a good idea, if it's actually possible."

"Say Y/N," she said, setting her cup down. "A friend of mine just recently got back into town. He's staying at this hotel,"

"Oh yeah?" Y/N asked curiously. "Who is it?"

"The Radio Demon," she said simply.

Y/N's eyes widened in surprise. "He's been gone for seven years," she said. "Why on Earth would he return now? And why would he be stayin' at the Princess's hotel?"

"Satan knows," Rosie replied. "Y'know, you and him would really hit it off."

Y/N's eyebrow rose up. "Sorry my darlin'," she said, lightly chuckling. "The Radio Demon is most certainly not my type."

"You don't even know him," Rosie said, a slight frown on her face.

"I don't need too," Y/N said curtly. "From what I know, he seems like a self-absorbed prick."

"Oh c'mon," Rosie nudged you. "The both of you have so much in common! You both like whiskey, you both like jazz, you both like killing people-"

"Why all of a sudden are you tryin' to play matchmaker?" Y/N interrupted. "And why The Radio Demon out of people?"

"Because you need to get out there!" Rosie said, smoothing out her dress. "Ever since I've known you, one of the main things you talk about is how in love you were when you were alive. What was his name again?"

"His name was Alastor," she said, her heart hurting. "I've searched all of Hell Rosie. Either he's up in Heaven, or the Exorcists got to him."

"That's why I want you to meet him," Rosie said, patting Y/N's shoulder. "Please? Do it for little ol' me?"

"I suppose so," she sighed. "I was already thinkin' about checkin' out the hotel anyway."

"Marvelous!" she exclaimed, clapping her hands together "I promise, you won't regret it!"

Landing in front of the hotel, she knocked at the door, feeling nervous, her wings fluttered behind her.

"I'm coming!" chirped a feminine voice from behind the door.

Fiddling with the hem of her top, Y/N waited until the person opened up the door.

The princess herself opened the door. "Hello! And welcome to the Hazbin Hot-"

Upon seeing your face in the doorway, she immediately slammed the door shut.

"Vaggie!" Charlie cried out.

"What is it?" Vaggie asked, coming down the staircase.

"The Assassin is at the door," Charlie panicked, pointing at the door. "What do we do?"

"Really? Another fucking overlord?" Vaggie angrily said, walking over to the door. "I'll handle this."

The door opened up a second time. Instead of the princess, a girl with a large X over her eye appeared in the doorway.

"What the hell do you want?" she asked suspiciously.

"There's no need to be so hostile," Y/N said, putting up her hands. "I'm here to simply offer up my services."

"We don't need you to kill anyone,"

"Not those kinds of services," she laughed. "I want to help with your hotel."

"Thanks, but we already have an overlord helping us," Vaggie said, eyeing her up and down.

"The Radio Demon, yes I know," she said, crossing her arms. "I still want to help,"

As Vaggie was about to close the door, Charlie popped up beside her.

"Wait Vaggie, we could use her help," she said, smiling. "With two overlords helping us, we can get a lot more done!"

"You have a point," Vaggie grumbled. "But I'm keeping my eye on you,"

Charlie beckoned you to come in. "Thank you, Princess Morningstar," Y/N said, stepping inside.

"Oh please, just call me Charlie," she waved off. "This is Vaggie," she gestured to the girl with the X.

"It's a pleasure to meet you both,"

"Thank you!" Charlie gushed. "Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel-er-"

"Y/N," she said. "My name is Y/N."

"Right! Welcome to the Hazbin Hotel Y/N! Would you like a tour?"

"Of course,"

"Why does the bar look like that?" Y/N asked after the tour was over.

"Someone blew it up a few days ago," Charlie said simply. "Our facility manager fixed it up so it's nothing to worry about!"

"Oh-uh-" Y/N didn't know was to say. "I'm glad it's all fixed."

"Oh my gosh!" she exclaimed. "I have to introduce you to everyone! C'mon!" Charlie grabbed her arm and dragged her away.

"This is Nifty, our maid," she said gesturing to the small demon, cleaning the floor. "Nifty, this is Y/N, she'll be staying with us

Nifty turned around and her eye widened and she smiled in a scary way.

"Ooooo! I've never seen a bad girl before!" she said menacingly as she crawled up on you. "Do you want to punish some bad boys with me?"

"Just give me the time and place, sweetie," Y/N said, putting Nifty down. Nifty quicky ran off.

"She's mostly harmless," Charlie said nervously. "Just don't let her bite you."

"I'll keep that in mind," she laughed.

"This is Husk, our bartender," she said gleefully.

Husk was drinking from a bottle, he nodded at Y/N but didn't say anything.

"It's nice to meet you, Husk," she said politely.

Husk recognized her at second glance, almost spitting out his booze, he decided not to say anything about it, though.

"Oooooo heya Y/N~" said a voice.

Y/N turned around and grinned. "It's nice to see you again Angel Dust,"

"Ohhh it's nice to see you too baby~" he said seductively.

"Oh that's wonderful!" Charlie exclaimed, her eyes sparkilng. "You two know each other!"

"Yeah, we met at a party a while back," Y/N explained. "He kept wantin' to look at a sword that I had just got."

"Y'know babycakes," Angel said, walking over to her. "I could show you my sword, if you want~"

"Another time, Angel," Y/N laughed, Charlie laughed awkwardly with her.

"Well, I think that's it!" Charlie said, clapping her hands together. "I'll show you to your room and if there's anything you need, just-"

"Oh, we have a new guest? Heavens, why didn't anyone tell me?" said a staticky voice.

Y/N turned and saw the infamous Radio Demon standing right behind her. Upon closer inspection, there was a look in his eyes that seemed familiar.

Too familiar.

Y/N had loved looking into those eyes, it had brought comfort to her.

"Oh my gosh! How could I forget!" Charlie said. "Y/N is going to be helping us around the hotel just like you!"

At the mention of her name, something pulled at Alastor's heartstrings.

"Well, we need all the help we can get, that's for certain," Alastor laughed.

That laugh, Y/N had imagined it every single day when she arrived in Hell.

"Y/N, this is our facility mana-"

"Alastor?"

Her voice, it sounded like an angel. Alastor remembered the first time he heard it. Everything clicked into place for the both of them.

"Y/N?"

Sorry if all the characters are a little ooc. I need to rewatch the show lmao.

THERES AN ECLIPSE TODAY!!!

stay safe out there you little rascals <33

xoxo, Izzy

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor altruist #alastor altruist x reader #character x reader #hazbin hotel imagines #vaggie #charlie #rosie #angel dust #husk #nifty

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calehenituse-brainrot · 12 days

Text

Symphony

Cale Henituse | Kim Rok Soo x Transported!Reader

With blood, sweat, and tears.

tw: gore and cannibalism

Sometimes, Ron sees how anyone could think of his young master as a God, because who in their right mind would dare to challenge a God but another one of their own?

Rosalyn's magic circle appeared on the island's surface, glowing red and magnificent as ever, covering the split trunk of the majestic tree like a dome, and right then, Cale descended from the sky like a God, his shirt torn at where his heart was and showed an ugly, distorted scar. Dried blood stains his pale skin and his shirt, and he looks absolutely awful.

"Human!" Raon cried out in relief. "What happened, human?! Where is [Name]?"

They all came to Cale, crowding him and immediately ready to abide by every order that drips from his lips. Cale pointed at the form of the ancient God, of vines and sticks imbued with divinity. "With that thing. He's planning to bring [Name] to the split trunk where he will most likely seal and fuse her with the island."

"What exactly is it?" Beacrox asked quietly, more to himself than to Cale.

But surprisingly enough, Cale turned to him and provided a vague answer, "If my guess is right... It could be her father."

"Her father?" Ron echoed, his eyes widening. "What does that--?"

"What are your orders?" Ron cuts off his son, frowning as he looks at his master. There was no time to sit down and explain the past nor to get a clear perspective on this situation. There are people with magical powers and Whales could turn to Whales. This was the least surprising thing.

When Cale finally spoke, his voice came out commanding and it immediately caused everyone to stood their ground. "[Name] is connected to the vines of that god. There could be a big possibility that she could still be freed from it. We will try to take her from that beast without doing much damage, but that's the best possible scenario. The worst would be destroying that island and the thing that sits atop of it."

Cale, Rosalyn, and Choi Han should have sustained a fatal injury from having the vines penetrating their heart and the moment it was taken out, they should have bled out to death, but they didn't. Instead, the open wound closed and healed quickly. Cale was pretty sure it was because the god's vines were actively healing you, and because your hearts had been connected with the very same vines, Cale, Choi Han, and Rosalyn's wounds were immediately healed.

It meant you wouldn't immediately die upon being detached from the god's vines.

You have a chance for survival.

"Your Highness, when it comes to it, please arrange for your men to do everything they can to destroy that island," Cale said to Withira. "The ancient God that resides in the island has grown weaker with that tree gone and could only focus on keeping the form they have now and keeping [Name] alive."

Withira's eyes widened, a chill running down her spine. There was something mind-boggling about the fact that the island that her predecessors had agreed to let be was going to be destroyed in her hands. She had lived with so many urban stories surrounding this island and now she was going to have it destroyed under her command.

Cale stared at the older woman. "Could you do it?"

Withira glanced at the island, feeling the weight of the order. Despite how little the island's influence was to the Whale tribe's reign, Withira had grown up hearing all sorts of stories about it. It had become a small legend within their community and was consistently being passed down to calves. However, seeing the ragged looks of Cale and his company, how they looked at her almost desperately for her aid -- Withira couldn't possibly turn their request away just because she held a bit of a sentimental value to that island.

Withira nodded with a determined frown. "Please leave it to me."

Withira jumped back to the water, morphing into her whale form the moment she hit the water. Cale watched as she swam to the island and her men began to crash into the floating island, causing strong tremors to the island, trying their best to tilt the island and make sure it would break into smaller pieces.

Cale turned to Ron and Beacrox along with the kittens. "You will be responsible for evacuating [Name] to a safe distance. The moment we managed to bring her on top of this ship, head back to the continent without us if we took to long."

Ron bowed his head. "Understood, Young Master-nim."

"Raon," Cale called out to the dragon, smiling. Raon's eyes widened and glimmered before he was quickly beside Cale.

The Black Dragon sees something in his human's brown eyes. For months, Cale had been depressed. His light brown eyes would always reflect affection towards him and the others, but Raon sees so clearly that something in him must have died with you when Cale stepped back into the bedroom that day to inform them all of your death.

Now, it's back alive. His eyes glimmered under the bright sun and the blue sky, determination and hope filling his face. His human looks filled with spirit.

"We'll be bringing [Name] home," Cale said to the dragon, and when he said that, Raon heard how much Cale meant it. To himself or Raon, the Black Dragon wasn't sure. Cale smiled endearingly, "Are you ready?"

Raon nodded, smiling brightly. "Yes!"

Wind gathered around Cale's feet and he flew back to the island, Raon flying beside him and heading towards the ancient god that was fighting Choi Han. The wind has never felt so suffocating and yet so freeing to Cale. He flew with the determination that he would not come back without you and he recognized that he might be so desperate that he could screw all of this up and he would never be able to see you again. You're so close to him, so close that he could hold you once more.

Choi Han was slicing every single branch that came after him and every single one grew rapidly as if it was the head of a Hydra. Rosalyn's magic circle was constantly shooting out fire after fire toward the lump of branches that was carrying you, her eyes rapidly looking through every nook and cranny of the beast to see if there was any indication of a weak spot that wasn't anywhere near where you were. Her keen eyes seemed to be moving at a speed that Cale himself couldn't comprehend, analyzing every weakness she could take advantage of.

'Give me something!' Rosalyn thought, her teeth gritting in restlessness as she looked for an opening within the god's physical form, watching it drag itself along with you on top back to the hollowed gigantic tree in the middle of the island. It felt like once it reached the tree, they would lose you forever. Rosalyn wasn't going to sit around and see whether her assumptions are true or not.

The god's physical form was similar to the silhouette of an octopus crawling on land, dragging his body along the ground with you on its back. When one of the "tendrils" of the god was raised and showed the tiniest opening under it, Rosalyn conjured another magic circle and aimed it towards that opening, blowing up that bit of the arm and watched with a horrified expression as that part of the god's form was blown up to bits and rotten dead bodies spilled out to the ground. The smell of rotten and burnt corpses immediately filled her senses and she gagged, feeling like her gut was going to come up to her throat at the horrid smell.

Choi Han paused for a moment and looked down at the branches that he had cut down, his face pale as he realized the multiple faces etched onto them.

"Cale-nim!" Choi Han yelled to Cale who was up in the air with Raon. "It's not wood! They're dead bodies!"

Cale could see the dozens of rotten bodies that were on the ground and how they seemed to melt into the ground, turning into mounds of vegetation and leaving the scent of rotten bodies despite how they have turned into plants.

'No wonder you weren't able to control them,' the priestess said with disgust. 'That god's form is made up of his worshippers. It could also be why they could still survive for so long despite all their followers being dead.'

It made sense now why the graves were empty. The god had fused all the physical bodies of his late followers to form his new physical form. It was perhaps his last attempt to earn some sense of recognition as a deity before being forgotten forever, or at least until the beliefs of enough people began to manifest him again.

Cale flew down next to Rosalyn and Choi Han immediately followed to listen to their orders. Cale looked at the vegetation by his feet and he pitied them, to know that the god these people have loved dearly was able to do this, to disrupt the peace of dead people and desecrate their resting place, without feeling an ounce of hesitancy for their selfish reason. This god did not deserve worship.

"Your orders?" Rosalyn asked, beads of sweat falling down her temple as she panted.

"Destroy the island," Cale said with a frown. "We'll be wasting our time if we only work on killing that god physically. Leave nothing behind. That god could move because this island preserved their images. A god is no good when they have nothing."

"Raon," Cale turned to the Black Dragon. "Relay my words to Her Highness Withira: We plan to destroy this island for good. We need the Whale tribe to make sure every piece sinks or destroyed."

Without many words other than an affirmative "I got it", Raon took off to search for Withira. Cale turned to Choi Han and Rosalyn, placing his hands on their shoulders. "Our job is to separate [Name] from that god. Choi Han, you will be our offense. Miss Rosalyn, our defense."

"Yes!" Both nodded, determined frowns on their faces.

Cale offered his hand to Rosalyn and Rosalyn grinned, jumping into Cale's arms before wind gathered around his feet and they flew off while Choi Han easily scaled the god's form, heading towards where you were. Cale stepped next to where you were laying and set Rosalyn down. The god began to let out a deafening scream, pausing on moving around and the branches began to thrash as if disgusted and angry they were on top of him.

"Han!" Cale yelled and Choi Han brought his sword to immediately slice the vines that were connected to your heart. Upon being broken off from you, the god's form suddenly began to morph and formed hands to grab at their ankles.

Choi Han cut down the hands and grabbed Rosalyn before jumping off from the god meanwhile Cale grabbed you, hugging you close to him before he mustered all his energy to summon the wind to his feet, and Choi Han led themselves back to where Ron was waiting.

Ron didn't wait for Cale to step onto the boat. He extended his arms out to hold your warm body, his breath shaky as he finally had you in his arms. There was a moment where he simply held you, his head tilted to lean to yours. For the first time in his life full of blood and violence, Ron uttered a prayer of relief that no blood was shed.

Thank God.

Ron let his lips curl down into a small smile, setting you down gently on the floorboards before he took off his coat and handing it to Beacrox to fold so Ron could check on your vitals. Beacrox slipped Ron's folded suit jacket under your head, both of them watching the vines connected to your heart shrivel up into what looked like the bones of an arm, a radius and an ulna hanging by while the rest of the hand and fingers must be inside your chest.

Cale assumed it had been one of the corpses' arm that had been morphed into vines.

Once Cale deemed that you were safe, he flew towards where Withira was and watched as the whales around the island began to slam themselves into the floating island, causing the god to scream and begin to have their form thrash all around the island and stab at the whales.

"MY DAUGHTER!" the god screamed, their voice similar to your father's voice that Cale had heard, confirming his suspicions.

"GIVE ME BACK MY DAUGHTER!" the god continued to scream, their voice loud enough to disrupt the wind and water similar to what a shock wave does, pushing them all back as thousands of voices began to cry and scream along. It sounded like hell

"Pull back!" Withira screamed out to her people, her hands covering her ears.

'Do you think I can do this without dying?' Cale thought to the Fire of Destruction, dark clouds gathering on top of the floating island while the god was thrashing around. The dark clouds that were gathering were more than usual, menacing and bundled up in thick lumps that seemed closer to reach.

'If you do, it'll be one hell of a story to tell,' the Fire of Destruction says with a small chuckle as Cale takes a deep breath, and blood begins to drip from his nostrils.

"Human?" Raon called, alarmed at the sheer amount of power that seemed to be emanating from Cale's small body.

Rosalyn looked up at Cale in the air before she realized her hair was standing up, red tresses rising into the air as if she was electrocuted. She looked around, seeing that everyone was looking at each other in confusion as they looked at each other's hair.

"We have to get away!" Rosalyn screamed, alarming everyone. "We have to get away or we'll get hit by the lightning!"

Withira looked up at Cale before she turned around, looking back at her men. "Let's go!"

Archie began to swim away, dragging the boat behind him. Raon flew up to where Cale was, seeing that he wasn't only bleeding from his nose but his mouth and ears as well. "Human!"

"Raon," Cale says, his arms slowly extending toward the dark cloud. "You'll have my back, won't you?"

Raon stared at Cale with his big eyes, almost tearing up. His voice shakes when he begins to speak, "Y-Yes, you can count on me! I am the M-Mighty Raon Miru!"

"Good."

For a moment, the sky was a serene expanse canvas of a bleak gray, filled with Cale's dark thunderclouds. A speckle of red float near the island. Cale looking down towards the life that moves underneath his space and it seemed like everything was in slow motion. He sees Withira, crying out for her whales, Jack swimming away from the island, the life that stood at the boat he pulls, and the plethora of life in the sea that swam around from a safe distance.

The air stilled around him as he exhaled.

The quiet before the storm.

They first saw the hundreds of jagged streaks of rosegold split the sky open, each one a bolt that was a testament to Cale's raw, incandescent Ancient Power. Each bolt struck down and began to dance together in wild, erratic patterns, crisscrossing the firmament continuously, one after another. For a moment it seemed like the sun had approached them, their eyes blinded and burned by them.

A symphony of chaos began almost immediately. Thunderous roars erupt, screams that were so primal tearing through the heavens as if the Earth was begging for mercy. The air became alive and they felt it by the way their skin prickles and their hairs rising. The god below the dancing flashes screamed, seeking help from their daughter, from their fellow divine beings, and was unfortunately turned away the moment his voice drowned between the roars of a mere human's power.

The kittens hid by your shoulders as you lay still on the boat, wanting to protect you despite their fears. It was the first time they saw Cale use an enormous amount of power to this extent and they feared over the fact that they could lose him in exchange for you. Archie positioned his body to rise from the water's surface and let his body be hit by the shock wave, protecting the people on the boat. Ron held you down to the floorboards to make sure you wouldn't slip away.

Cale felt the first raindrop fall before it came heavy and fast, the accumulation of water vapor in his clouds. He coughs up blood, his heart squeezing in his chest and Cale almost feels like falling. He could faintly hear Raon's cries and the way the Dragon was cuddling up to his chest. Cale hugs the small dragon, his eyes nearly closing. Both of them were drenched in the heavy rain.

"Human, stop!" Raon cried out. "T-that's too much!"

Cale's eyes were barely open but he managed to look down, seeing how the island was mostly black, singed off. The smell of rotten corpses reminded him of his previous world. He felt his ear becoming wet. His vision was blurring.

He bit his tongue.

'Cale, stop!' The Fire of Destruction called out, but Cale did not heed the orders of the voices.

Each raindrop fell, illuminated by the constant flashes of the prettiest rosegold, glistening like diamonds before they hit the waters. His powers sway together in a disorganized ballet, the sky being his canvas to show off his untamed Ancient Power. His powers were the textbook definition of how the power of nature's beauty and destruction could coexist. He was terrifying and mesmerizing.

Soon, as suddenly as it all began, the storm moved on. The lighting fades, the thunder finally retreats, and the sky falls silent once more. Cale's eyes finally closed and he couldn't even slip into a fall because Raon was by his side, holding onto him and immediately teleporting both of them back to the ship, where they all await him.

Withira looked towards the ship, her ears still ringing. She looked back to where the island used to be, seeing only bits of the island floating around along with heaps of rotten corpses. She has never seen Cale's powers to this extent. The memory of those hundreds of flashes of lightning lingers in her head, etched into her mind like a series of vivid, electrifying dreams.

In the aftermath, the clouds finally scattered and the sky returned to its tranquil blue.

"Check if anything of that beast survives," Withira says to one of her men before she turned back into a human and jumped into the boat to check on everyone. She sees that you and Cale were laid down on the floorboards, Cale's face and his sides drenched in blood. "Are they okay?"

"She's okay," Ron says softly, checking your vitals once more to make sure he's not hallucinating from adrenaline. He looked at Beacrox who was checking on Cale and Beacrox nodded. "He's fine... Surprisingly."

Rosalyn kneeled beside Ron, holding your hand and lifting it to her lips. She closed her eyes before tears slowly gathered in her eyes as she recalled the harsh life you had to endure, fueled with relief that you're now here and alive. "I'm so glad..."

Choi Han smiled, sitting criss-crossed next to Cale's body as Archie began to swim back towards the continent. Raon curled himself under Cale's arm, closing his eyes and bumping his nose into Cale's palm. For the first time in months, everyone felt lighter. The breeze of the ocean, the sea spraying at them, and the sounds of the whales swimming back have never felt so freeing.

Rosalyn looked down before she let out a soft laugh. "I think... I think this is the first time we have the two of them knocked out like this."

Choi Han looked at her in confusion before he laughed, realizing that she was right. Usually, when Cale was unconscious due to overexerting himself, you'll take over and lead, and vice versa. Now, with both of you unable to lead them, they all feel a bit aimless.

"I'm glad I have my sister back," Rosalyn whispered, sighing as she laid down next to you on the floorboards, holding your hand.

Beacrox let a small smile slip, closing his eyes and finding himself feeling the same as the great Archmage.

You stood in a space, feeling the wind blowing your hair while the image of your father standing a few feet away from you. He looked older than you recalled he was supposed to be. His hair was longer, the wrinkles on his face deeper, and his eyes seemed to reflect the melancholy of someone who had lost everything.

"Why are you here?" You asked him softly, tilting your head. This was supposed to be your memories and you don't recall seeing your father age like this because he had gone missing the day your mother's funeral was held.

"I... don't know," your father mumbled. "I just wanted to see you one more time. Try again."

You stilled once you finally recognized his voice. It finally clicked why the voice sounded so familiar. "You... You're the voice that's been talking to me for months."

"I am," your father confirmed.

"H-How?!" You exclaimed, coming up to him and nearly falling to your knees when you could touch him. "I-I can touch you."

Your father reached for you, his arms wrapped tightly around you. For so long, you have been wandering in some transcendental realm and watching your life play out over and over again as if it were some kind of sickening exposure therapy to all the things that have happened to your life. John had faded a long time ago and you have been alone without being able to feel any warmth at all. This warmth came from someone who had attributed to your suffering, and dear God, it feels so relieving.

"I'm getting weaker," your father murmured. "It's time for me to retire."

You placed your hands on his shoulders, pushing him away to look at him. "What do you mean?"

"You've gained so many people who knows and loves you," he continued, cupping your cheeks before you slapped his hands away. "You're perfect."

"What the fuck are you talking about?" You spat at him, looking at him with wide eyes.

"You have to continue this for me, [Name]," he continued on, looking at you expectantly. "There are so many memories of people within me. They can't just die with me. They need to go on."

"What are you saying?" You asked him, confused and slightly flabbergasted at his words. Memories? He was dying?

"When I came to this world, I was confused," he began. "Just like you. I don't age and I... I don't know. Those people, they started believing I was something divine."

"You tricked those people," you concluded with your face pale.

Your father shakes his head. "I did not! They chose me!"

"And now I choose you," he murmured, his hand coming up and he pushed his hand through your chest and you let out a gag, shocked at how he could easily pierce through your chest. To make matters worse, you can physically feel him grasping at your heart and you hated how you could suddenly feel your heart pumping your blood.

You let out a strangled groan, something intangible from your father's hands streaming into your heart. Your heart was beginning a violent drum, each throb was a jolt that physically hurt you, aches that radiated to your ribs and the rhythm made you grimace with every pulse. There is no reprieve, no steady cadence to catch—just relentless, piercing strikes. Your heart was beating like a dancer that steps on broken glass with every step, agony with every breath.

Your world blurs, your sight and hearing fading into a haze of pain. Each pulse of your heart echoes throughout your body like a hammer blow that reverberates into your bones, shaking your core. The only thing that left your lips was the language of endless torment, each beat a cry, and each pause a breathless gasp.

Your heartbeat was a relentless reminder of your mortal state. Pain blossoms with each irregular thump, spreading through the chest like wildfire. You are not born for this divinity. You are not meant for this.

Yet, in this painful symphony, there is a desperate, fierce will—a heart that, despite the pain, refuses to surrender, fighting on with every agonizing beat.

"You don't have any fucking right--!"

You let out a shrill scream, grabbing at your father's wrinkly face and dug your nails into his skin. He screamed loudly, the sound ringing your ears. You almost gag when your finger dug into his eyeball before you solidified your courage and immediately push your hands further, letting out a pained scream when you could feel his eye sockets, his blood dripping to your hands and going down into your arm.

He grasped at your heart, squeezing it painfully and your screams echoed through the empty space. You pulled yourself away from him, screaming as you feel each vein and tendon of your heart being ripped from its place, and before you knew it, you lay on your back, a bleeding, gaping hole in your chest where your heart was supposed to be. Without the heart that has been pulsing torment into your body, you could finally breathe properly.

Your father opens his mouth, his cheeks ripping before he swallows your heart whole into him. He swallowed it down in a painful gulp, seemingly waiting for something and when that something did not come, he looked betrayed. Furious.

Before you could get up, your father pinned you down and his hands clawed at your chest, your skin ripping under his sharp nails and you cried out, feeling your skin ripped layer by layer until your ribs showed. "Bare yourself to me! Give unto me!"

You reached out to his face again, nails digging into his skin and ripping his face, the same way he had ripped your chest open. You dug your fingers into where his eye socket was, making sure your grip was strong and ripped him away as hard as you can off of you. He rolled around like an animal kicked and you used the moment to stand up again.

Without your heart, you feel alive.

You panted, watching his form lunge at you, his eyes crazed. You ducked almost immediately and took a step to the side, grabbing his arm and immediately twisting it with your whole body. Once he was down, you placed your heel into his neck, stomping on it until you could hear a horrifying crack. You keep his neck under your heel as you twist his arm with a force that makes the sky shudder. The pain in his eyes is a mirror of the anguish he had inflicted on you.

You twist it until you could hear the crack, screaming out as you moved your heel to his shoulder, keeping his shoulder in place while you began to pull at his arm until it was torn off of his shoulder. You threw away the arm, panting as the blood fell onto your face and your eyes, mingling with your sweat and tears.

The god shook, letting out a pained scream as he held onto his shoulder. He slowly got up, watching you stumble after using most of your energy to tear his arm apart. He watched you, realizing that standing before him was a human that was the epitome of resilience.

You panted, your chest left a bleeding, gaping hole. Your chest was ripped by his nails, raw as your flesh bled and some of the tissues dangled. Some of your ribs showed, your flesh hanging onto it. You looked up at him, your eyes filled with hatred and betrayal.

When he finally approached you, there was something that changed. You did not dance around his claws and blows. You let yourself be maimed. Your nails grasp at whatever you can of him, scratching and tearing at his skin like an animal that had been cornered. Your bodies twist and writhe, a brutal dance of rage and betrayal. Your nails find purchase in his flesh, tearing through the divine facade to the vulnerable core beneath. Each rip is a catharsis, a reclamation of every piece of your spirit that he tried to rob of you. He retaliates, his hands gripping you, rending skin and sinew in a desperate bid to subdue you.

A god cannot subdue you, much less your father.

He was no longer both in your eyes.

You could feel it. His powers wane with every shuddering breath, every wound you inflict. Pain and spite fuel you -- fuck love, fuck faith, and fuck these fucking gods. Each slash of your nails is a declaration that you will no longer be bound to the past, to what doesn't matter, to these fucking people.

You finally toppled on top of him, your nails brutally digging into his chest. His screams of torment did not deter your goal. In fact, it is the symphony of your triumph. You ripped every layer of his flesh and once you felt his ribs, you grabbed one after another and broke it with brute strength. His beating heart lay bare before you and you grinned.

"H-hell..." He muttered, laying helplessly there as you grasped at his heart. "T-this is hell..."

You stayed quiet, tearing his chest open with one hand and the other ripping his heart out.

You sat on top of the corpse of the man you knew once as your father, holding his heart in your hands.

Your nails dug into it and once you tore it open, you found a single dianthus flower, withered and its petals bathed in blood.

#hell hath no fury like a woman scorned #cale henituse x reader #cale henituse #trash of the count's family #lout of count's family #lcf cale #fanfic

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rippersz · 4 months

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𝖸𝗈𝗎, 𝗐𝗁𝗈 𝖨 𝗋𝗎𝗇 𝗍𝗈.

«——..✞..——»

(DEAD DOVE DO NOT EAT) (TW: Mentions of cannibalism, murder, slight glorification of both; gore, toxic love, fluffy love, nightmares, etc.) (Larissa Weems x Fem!Reader)

«——..✞..——»

"Where could I rest but in your hurricane?" ~ Erica Jong

«——..✞..——»

There’s hot breath at your heels. And a pounding in your head. And your feet are sore and your neck is aching and everything kind of hurts. Like you’ve been dragged across rocky lands by your ankles, only just given the chance to run once cut loose from rope binds.

Blindly, you turn corners.

Where are you?

One right, one left.

What’s happened?

One left, one right.

How do you get out?

Two lefts.

Is this a maze?

Two rights.

Is there an end?

No.

Just more darkness.

Something smacks the grass behind you, trampling it beneath heavy feet. Heavy… paws? You can’t tell. You don’t want to look back. The only way through is forward and forward is leading you to Hell. But there is no other choice.

You keep going.

Cool sweat paints your back, your temples, your upper lip and your thighs. Making you shiver through the hazy mist. Blood rushing and lungs burning. You can never get far enough. Never go fast enough. It gains whatever ground you trek and its warm breath laps like waves at your ankles.

“Come,” it’s telling you. “Give in to me.”

“You know you want to.”

“You know this is who you are.”

There’s light at the end. There. In the distance. One smooth run away. Only a few steps. You can do it. You can make it. Or you can run the other way, into the darkness. Or you can stop and let yourself be eaten. Consumed. It depends. What do you want to do? Where do you want to go?

The light.

It’s a saving grace.

The good ending.

Your mind hurts and your bones feel stiff but still you must go. Still you must try.

One foot in front of the other. Go. Go go go. Time is running out. The light gets closer. Closer. The beast chuckles somewhere behind you. A warm sound that slips through red teeth and pale skin.

“You’re precious to me,” it coos, watching your body push itself to ash. “Can’t you see that?”

No.

No you don’t want to.

This isn’t worth it.

Nothing is worth it.

There-

The light.

Close.

Closer.

Go.

There-

No.

…

..what?

…it’s… no. It’s just a lamp.

You stop, vision blurring, knees trembling. Staring as if your gaze could change reality. Just a lamp.

It’s just a lamp. Resting on a long branch. With a fake candle in the middle.

What?

What is this?

Why is this-

“Look at me, sweetheart.”

No.

Yes.

No, please-

Yes, right here-

“Look. Give in.”

Your feet shift without warning. Your body is pulled- you steer it- toward the beast. And you cannot stop it. You cannot do anything.

But you don’t want to.

Do you?

You move of your own accord.

You let it take you.

You see, in the dark, its bulky form.

You find comfort in what it can offer you. You find bliss in its soft fur and its glowing eyes. So many eyes. It is beautiful. It smiles wide.

“This is it, dearheart.”

Its voice is low and smooth and human.

You swallow.

“I love you.”

Which one of you said it?

Why did you say it first?

A tear slips down the side of your cheek, and you are smiling.

This is home.

Its glowing eyes are brighter than the sun. This is your good ending, you see.

This is it.

“I love you, too.”

You take a step forward.

–

There is a deep harsh ringing in your ears when your heart jumps to your throat. You try to grasp it, the panic, before it escapes - but it’s too late. You’re too slow. And your eyes are wide, aching, when they meet the dark wall opposite the bed. There’s sweat painting your back and neck, dampening the hairs at your nape, and your hands are clenched around the bedsheets. They’re sore. Tense. You’re wound up like a spring but there’s nowhere to bounce off to.

It wasn’t real, of course. It wasn’t real. It didn’t even feel real. And yet you were still scared.

Are scared.

Hyper aware of the way your body thrums, thumping from the adrenaline of a chase you never experienced. You quake in your meager bed. Thoughts swirl in a near deafening tornado. You don’t know what to do. You don’t know what to think. The silence is potent. Thick with its desire to have you killed. Maimed and left for dead.

You’re not ready to die. You’re not ready to leave just yet. The heaving gulps of air you take are so soothing, so comforting, you can’t die- you won’t die.

What if there’s something behind the door?

There isn’t. Don’t be stupid.

Skulking about. Waiting for you. Long fingers twitching and white eyes blazing and smile so wide it stretches the skin into its hairline. Smelling of rot and disgust. What if it is there. What if the beast, with its heavy paws and changing voice, lurks along with it. Two beasts. More monsters. A cacophony of horror waiting for you to leave.

There’s nothing there. Stop it.

But your eyes shift anyway, glancing, and suddenly the walls have peep holes and the bathroom is hiding something in the dark. Deep chuckles and hungry tongues and desperation to mutilate you. Watching you. Eager for your blood. For your bones and your flesh. You shiver, darting wide eyes around in the emptiness - as though looking at the monsters, facing them, could possibly save you. But they can’t. Nothing can. There, in the corner, is a stranger. A tall figure, too tall for the room, with a head that’s upside down and eyes too wide for its slim face. It smiles. Still and prone in the dark. It is watching. It is waiting.

You can’t do this.

You can’t do this again.

Are you hallucinating?

It doesn’t matter.

There’s a slight glow beneath the door, caused by the flicker of hallway candlelight, and you’re scrambling out of bed before you can think. Before you can even stop yourself and pause and maybe turn on a light and come to the realization that you’re overreacting. It’s too cold, it’s too dark. Your hand slips on the doorknob, your bare feet fall sensitive on the chilled floor, your legs shake as you tear out of your bedroom. You don’t even know where you’re going. What can protect you? What place can hide you? The beast lurks around each corner. The tall figure follows behind. You can hear its footsteps. Are they yours?

Where are you going?

Who are you looking for?

What does safety mean when you are not home?

Your heart stutters as the pad of your foot hits the ground too hard and your leg goes buckling beneath you. No. Now is not where you fall. Now is not where you die. The figure gains, and you catch yourself against concrete brick with a loud ‘slap!’, and the sound spurs you again.

Running.

Like the dream.

Running where?

Is this the maze? Were they the same thing? No. No, couldn’t have been. There is no branch here with a fake lamp. There is no false candle flicker. There is only darkness and only silence and the embarrassing pitter-patter of your quick feet that make you cringe. You are being too loud. They will always know where you are. They will always find you.

What place is safe?

Where does protection exist in the dark?

There is no one to save you. No arms to run into. You run for so long, hearing the thumps of your own heart and mistaking them as chasing creatures, that the sweat on your back renews. It drops to the curve of your spine. You feel sick with your fear, with the way it suffocates you slowly. Draws you to the dark.

You can’t keep going. You can’t feel your legs. You don’t know where you are. You don’t-

Principal’s Quarters.

Oh.

No.

No, there’s-

No.

Are you serious? Is this it? Is this your lamp? Is this your plastic flame? Your end and your beginning? Is this where you will always return? The orbit you were born into? The infinity you occupy? The ouroboros you are caught in, eating your own tail, returning to your end? Your death? Your liberation?

The monsters lurk. They are behind you. You can’t turn - you won’t.

It is smiling, it is huffing, it is there, and you are in front of a twisted salvation that will embrace you with clean arms and red lips and blue eyes. Not white. Not a grin too large. Just right. Perfection. On the outside. On the inside, something a little rotted. But you don’t mind. This is your only choice, as you cannot turn around. As you won’t.

“Larissa?” Your voice is soft, weak, in the silence. There is no answer. There is no savior.

Your knuckles begin to pain as you knock on the door, hitting the wood so hard you can feel the pangs of hurt run through your tendons. Right down to your wrist. You knock once. Twice. You knock a third time and then you knock again, until it flows into one steady stream of sound that only draws the creatures nearer and as you knock, you fear that if she doesn’t open up soon, you will not be alive when she gets back. You will not be breathing. You will not be there to hold and pick up. There will be no more infinity and no more liberation. No more shared secrets and sobbed apologies and no more memories of how you untangled yourselves from the closet floor and sat in her living room at a complete loss for words. No more tension. No more quiet understanding. No more glancing at each other and no more weeks of avoidance. No more yearning. Strange yearning. Out of place yearning. No more thinking about apologies and warm hands and the way she held you together. No more contemplating the lack of fear- the nonexistence of it- because when you looked down, there was no blood beneath her fingernails. No blood on her teeth. No carnage in her form. Because you were safe and she would not hurt you and you were special and she would not eat you and you’re not sure if she loves you but that doesn’t matter right now because dear god Larissa just please- please- open the door-!

And so it opens. And the gods have answered.

“What on E-”

Your fist lands blindly on the soft skin of an exposed collarbone and before you can stop yourself, grasp onto a nearby wall or gain some sense, you are falling. Shifting into the depths, the churning tides of the room beyond, and letting out a small squeak as you go. For a long moment, everything is one quick whirl of dim light, dark shadow, and fear. It jumps to your tongue, climbs to your mouth and your hands, and you are clawing at the person that has opened the door. Behind you, as your head knocks to the side and a glimpse of the hallway grows clear, you swear you see movement. Creatures fleeing. Running away, back into the night, because they have come across something unknown. Tails between their legs and ears pressed back. Eyes wide with terror. They have run into the heart of a bigger beast. A smarter beast. A beast that watches with a gaze of cut cerulean and a tongue sharper than a knife’s edge. A beast so intelligent and cunning, it is capable of fooling the world. Tricking the tricksters. One big painting of iron-clad facades and not a single sniffing nose looking for her. A beast that opens her arms to you, and draws you in, and will not hurt you even if you beg.

A beast whose arms, cool and familiar, go running around your waist, eager to keep you from smashing your teeth out onto the hard floor. Her hold is strong and desperate, weakened from sleep, but good enough to clutch and pull you closer. Into safety. Large hands immediately press at your back, flung wide from surprise; and warm breath is pushed out in a rush from modest lungs. You cling to this post of life, to this beam of gold, to this beast, as your feet scramble over the threshold and the door slams! itself back into place behind you.

Safety at last.

From one darkness into another.

But this darkness has no interest in hunting you. She is only surprised that you have shown up at all.

“Y/n? What’s going on? Are you hurt?” Her hands fly to your waist, going to push you back to get a better look at you, but the fear still runs thick and you need a moment to think - so you push yourself closer and nearly topple the poor woman off balance.

“Sorry,” you mumble into her shoulder, finding immediate comfort in the smell of everything Larissa. It should be off-putting to push your face against her, to fall in love with the softness of her hastily thrown on robe, but you can’t find it within yourself to care. She is here and you are safe and as long as she is here, you will always be safe. Somehow. Someway.

“It’s okay,” comes her soft whisper. “It’s okay.”

Her gentleness is unexpected. Wasn’t it only about three weeks ago when you were running all over Nevermore, scared out of your mind? Frightened that she’d eat you alive–even though she said she wouldn’t? Full of begrudging trust and weepy eyes as you fell apart on the carpet of her walk-in closet? Was a bit of space, a bit of time, all you needed in order to come running back like the love-sick fool you are?

Or was it always meant to be like this? Running back to Larissa, who would probably always wipe the blood off of her lips and out of her mouth before trying to kiss you. Never wanting you to witness her horrors, no matter how self-indulgent. You think for just a moment, as you stand there melting into her body and shivering as her fingers go tangling into your hair, that you may be able to live the lie. Nothing is wrong. When you’re with her, there are no nightmares. When you’re with her, you’re safe. She will brush her teeth and then you will kiss her senseless. She will wash her hands and then she will touch your skin, reverent and desperate. She will wash the red from her hair and then she will let you brush it.

A modern romance. No horror. You can live it, you think. If only you tried.

“Are you alright?” She eventually whispers, heart beating steadily beneath your cheek and ear. Clearly, she’s worried. Trying to keep the tremor out of her voice but still swimming in relief because you’ve come to her. Out of all the people to go to and you came to her. You know she feels a new sense of hope, because you do too. Three weeks without confronting the depth of everything only led to sadness. Sadness and emptiness and desire. A deep clawing desire that begged you every day to show up in front of her and demand her attention. Knock on her office door, the door to her quarters, the door to her teacher’s room, anywhere everywhere, just for a moment of her time. Just to look into her eyes and know that you were okay. You wanted to be okay so bad. But you never gave in. You never went searching. You would’ve soon rather chained your feet to your desk than run out of your room and go to her.

Though now here you are, with your body working against you. Betrayal spelled in bold letters. Leading you back to the beast you want.

“No.” You’re safe, yes, but you’re not alright. You’re frazzled and tired and sleep has been an elusive creature and all you want is rest. So much rest you grow fat and lazy with it. Rest so good and long that it comes spilling out of your ears. Rest that hasn’t lied beside you in days because sleeping alone has proven so difficult. So bloody difficult in a way it hasn’t been in so long. And you don’t know what to do anymore. Running from imaginary creatures, nightmares that followed you in your mind, was the last straw. You’re exhausted. A sigh shakes your body, making your shoulders rise and fall with its strength.

Large palms find their way there, onto your biceps, and gently squeeze.

“What do you need?” Larissa’s voice is so kind, so open and sweet, you want to cry. “Tell me and I’ll do what I can.”

You don’t know. You really don’t know. All you can understand, accept, is the comfort of her strong arms. The power of her supple body. The protection she is giving you without wanting anything in return. So selfless a person, but so horrific a soul. You don’t know what you want from her aside from this eternity. This slice of heaven held near to her heart.

“I don’t know,” you shake your head, rubbing your forehead against the silk of her nightie. Your own has stopped sticking to your back, falling limp against the sweat that has cooled.

“A cup of tea, maybe?”

No. Not enough. You shake your head again.

“Okay,” she hums, “I may have some melatonin somewhere-”

“No,” you whisper. “It doesn’t- it won’t help.”

“Oh,” her shoulders jump as she gets an idea. “What about a bath? It might help.”

No. No no no. You’re much too tired to bathe. You’ll deal with that in the morning, even if you do feel a little gross. You’re recovering from a fear-induced marathon, your hair is greasy, and you’re probably a little smelly, but Larissa doesn’t care. She only holds you closer as you shake your head again and your chest goes slumping. You don’t want to bathe. You don’t want to do anything. You don’t even want to leave her side. The feeling of her breath, the rise and fall of her bust, is soothing enough to lull you to sleep. To a land of comforting dreams and maybe even a bit of blissful silence. Darkness. Not a thing to remember and thus, not a thing to dwell on. That’s what your body cries for. Larissa’s presence. The knowledge that she is safe, no matter what she has done.

“I-” your heart goes pounding away in your ears again, kick-started by anxiety. “I- can’t.” Why can’t you?

“Can’t do what, Y/n?” She manages then to pry you away from her, and holds you steady while she takes a small step back. Just so she can look into your eyes, lit up in the glare of the moon that shines through the living room’s tall gothic windows. It’s not too much light, but it’s enough. Enough for her to catch the desperation in your gaze and the way your cheeks go pink when you can view her properly. Finally revealed in the dim rays, her hair acts as a halo. Tied up in a loose bun, with flyaways going everywhere; face pale and free of makeup. Pink lips. Blonde lashes. Eyebrows so fair-haired you can barely see them, but still they are there. Delicate. So delicate and so lovely. You can’t imagine splashes of scarlet across her chin and chest. You can’t imagine the glint of murder in those cerulean eyes as she leans over a corpse. Gentle hands clenched so tight around a throat. Perfect teeth bared in a deep animalistic ferocity. You can’t picture it. You don’t want to.

But you want to fall asleep next to her? Good lord girl, get it together.

Get it together.

Why?

Why should you?

Why get it together, why even try, when you’re the exception?

“I don’t- I don’t want to- bath. Or drink tea.” You huff, finding it difficult to be honest under her intense blue eyes. Her lips instantly tug into a frown, reflecting her disappointment, but that’s the last thing you want. The straw that could probably break your back, so you’re quick to reassure. “I just- but I just-”

A hand finds your clenched fist. It caresses the hills of your knuckles. You glance at it, at the pale slender fingers, and you wonder (not for the first time) how such pretty palms- nails- glorious soft fingertips- could ever be capable of violence. Rough red violence that kills and maims and uses silver tines to tear apart cooked flesh. Steamed, grilled, poached to perfection by her own vein-deep desires. How can a willowy, strong, kind woman like Larissa ever want to kill? How can she feel even the smallest sparks of such vicious anger?

Unless it’s not done out of anger.

Unless it’s done out of pleasure.

An evil pleasure. Twisted with the kind of joy that comes from seeing another suffer. A slight inkling that perhaps the pain is deserved. Perhaps all humans need a little bit of it, a bit of searing- stabbing- hunting- in order to be humbled. Is that what she thinks? Is that what she feels? When she stands over them, when she looks at her shifting forearms and notices that the red stays red no matter what shape she takes - does she think about it then? Does she revel in it? Does she look just as beautiful? Do those doll lips pull up into a serene smile as she contemplates the richness of her impending dinner? Does she close her brilliant blue eyes when she hears the bones snap? Does she caress the cold face of a corpse and mourn their warmth before shoving their cheek into the shallows of dirty water and rushing off into the wood? Does she name them? Or does she know their names already? Does she have a system? Or is she spontaneous?

If you weren’t the exception, would you already be dead?

“Y/n-”

It doesn’t matter, you’ve decided. It doesn’t matter because you are the exception. And there is no point wasting precious thoughts on something as silly as your death. She will never hurt you. For some reason, she cares too much. And you are beyond exhausted, beyond drained, to trudge back to your own room and wait for the sun to rise before finally falling back asleep. The dark, recently, has become too haunting. And Larissa is so bright…

“I just wanna sleep,” you finally tell her, still entranced by the way her large hand covers your own. “I just want- rest. I’m so tired.” She can hear it in your voice, in the way your tone can’t reach higher than a hush. And your eyes, which flit to the broad line of her shoulders and the curved bit of her jaw. They’re shadowed and droopy and you’re too tired to explain any further.

Maybe, at a different time, perhaps in the morning, you will be able to tell her that not speaking for three weeks had nearly driven you completely mad. Focus did not exist for you while you taught. While you sat. While you lied awake in bed in the mornings and forced yourself to get up. She would walk the halls and you would pass her by and you’d glance and your eyes would meet and nothing would come of it. Beautiful woman, beautiful soul that she is, with her red hands and her secrets. Walking at a brisk pace to avoid being stopped by you, but you weren’t planning on asking her to talk. What sort of talking was there to do? Larissa wouldn’t stop and you wouldn’t ask her to. Some people are simply made to be outsiders. She runs a school of them, and still she is the most far removed. Perfectly sane and yet… and yet. The game was a different story. Adrenaline was high and she was in her element and you were a fool for ever agreeing to it but if you hadn’t…

“Alright,” comes the sweetest whisper, “I’ll take you back.”

If you hadn’t…

“No. No I don’t want that either. I just- I can’t-” you look up at her and plead with your eyes. You beg. You ask. Please. Please let me stay here with you.

If you hadn’t…

Recognition explodes in her gaze. Stay with her? You? You feel safe enough to do that? To sleep in the bed of a predator? To sink into her arms and yearn for more? Is that what a bit of warmth, a bit of care, can do? “Are you sure?” She is confused. Her perfect brows are furrowed. She thought you were scared. Of her. Of the dark. Of the monsters. Of her.

“Yes. I- yes. I can’t- I don’t want to be alone Larissa.” Her name is a concealed plea from your lips. Whispered and wanting.

If you hadn’t…

She is uncertain, running a soft thumb over your knuckles, but the last thing she wants is for you to go. Call it selfishness, call it disbelief, but she wants you near. Three weeks was too long. She’s missed you so much.

“Alright,” she murmurs, twisting her hands to run up to your shoulders. “Alright.” And she’s gently turning and steering you in front of her, walking you to the bedroom.

…then where would you be?

«——..✞..——»

Next part may include some kissy kissy lovey lovey... Lemme know if you wanna see it. - Rip x

«——..✞..——»

Tags: @kaymariesworld @bloommushroom @readingtheentrails @thegoddamnfeels @theonefairygodmother @theflashesoflove @sweetderacine @gwensfreak @shyladyfan @sunnyanon @emilynissangtr @sugipla @deongocrazy @nocteangelus15 @azu-zu @hopelessly-sapphic @enchantressb @syrenacrainn @im-a-carnivorous-plant @willowshadenox @aemilia19 @scarlettssub @ladysdraga @willisnotmental @gela123 @zillahofviolets-bayolet @the-bearr @amateurwritescm @alex-nyx @h-doodles

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#rippersz #fanfictionwriter #fanfic #fanfiction #larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #wlw fanfic #wednesday larissa weems #cannibal larissa weems #dead dove do not eat cannibalism #romantic cannibalism #???#that fanart notice was crazy though #CRAYZAY. CRAYZAYYYYY #Had this working and ready to post before I even saw that #So is that a sign or WHAT

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wuntrum · 2 years

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"there's a place in the dark where the animals go / you can take off your skin in the cannibal glow / juliet loves the beat and the lust it commands / drop the dagger and lather the blood on your hands, romeo" gotta be one of the hardest second verses in a song ever

#mcr #they were insane for that one...like damn #sickos yes hahaha yes image

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knifeslidez · 8 months

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you can take off your skin in the cannibal glow

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glittergroovy · 5 months

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The Sharpest Lives - My Chemical Romance

#the sharpest lives #mcr #mcr lyrics #my chemical romance #album: the black parade #gif warning #glitter text #drop the dagger and lather the blood on your hands #lyrics #red #bloggif.com #45px #cambria italic #cambria font #there's a place in the dark where the animals go #you can take off your skin in the cannibal glow

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radioisntdead · 2 months

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Not the sender for the original ask but I'm sorry I cannot help but imagine an alternative where the reader summoning Rosie is the most angsty teen ever.

They're imagining the stereotypical giant red demon with goat legs and horns- but instead there is just a pretty lady and Rosie is CONCERNED because there is a teenager in the attic of their house summoning demons, not because of any normal reason but because whatever could a child need a demon for? Do they need help? Auntie Rosie will help!

Summoning a demon but instead of taking your soul you just get adopted. If you take this seriously (you don't have to) add as much angst as you wish.

Good evening my dear! Sorry this took forever to get out! It got buried in my drafts

I added a knockoff slasher dude solely to murk the reader because, I don't know as a plot for death?? I don't remember my thoughts when sleep deprived I'm so sorry

Anyways Auntie Rosie supremacy,

Rosie & reader

Platonic

Warnings!!

This isn't my best work, it was written late at night when I was mildly delusional, death, stereotypical slasher dude, OOC

You were home alone, sat in your dark and gloomy attic surrounded by lit candles, a book you had stolen from a shady book shop was open in your hands and you had drawn a summoning circle in red paint from the dollar store.

You took a deep breath before reading out the incantation written in the book, fully prepared for something grotesque to crawl out.

Wind came forth swirling around you as the circle glowed, the sound of the wind was almost deafening, you could feel your sweater clinging onto your skin, each loose thread itching your skin

You tried your best to ignore it as you continued chanting as something rose from the circle.

Once you had finished the spell you shut your eyes as the wind winded down.

"Oh my! You're quite young aren't cha'!"

Your eyes opened as you looked up, instead of some grotesque creature with blood and horns hanging off of it, was a lady,

Her skin was gray, she was dressed in early 1900's fashion and her eyes were pitch black, like a endless void.

"Are you going to say anything or are you just going to sit there with your mouth open catchin' flies?"

She said with an eyebrow raised.

"I, shit, I'm sorry I wasn't expecting someone so pretty? I was expecting more-"

"Well aren't you a charmer! Allow me to guess, You were expecting someone more demonic looking?"

You nodded, "Yeah,"

The woman tilted her head ever so slightly,

"Well aren't you going to introduce yourself?"

This felt like a trap, what if giving your name to her would give her control of you like a fae? Probably not, but what if it was?

"Likewise, it's a pleasure! You can call me Auntie Rosie!"

"I'm [Name], nice to meet you?"

"Auntie Rosie?"

You weren't expecting the creature you summoned to be a pretty cannibal named Rosie, let alone for her to adopt you as a surrogate nibling, telling you to call her Auntie Rosie and nothing else.

She had to leave soon after you summoned her because she had 'overlord duties ' and 'A town to run' but she told you to summon her again soon.

And so you did, the next time Rosie tutted at the messy attic, saying that you should tidy up the area more if you were going to invite guests over, she asked you to grab some cleaning supplies.

You snuck down into the hall, leaving Rosie alone for a moment, you were as quiet as a mouse as you tiptoed past your sleeping suspected serial killer of a godfather, managing to make it to the kitchen to grab a few cleaning supplies and a broom before sneaking back.

Rosie hummed as she began moving boxes around, shaking her head at the amount of dust and other things that littered the floor.

"I'm back, I got a broom, dustpan, and some Clorox wipes," you say as your head popped up from the entrance,

She said taking the broom,

"Good! Now let's make this place suitable, this much dust is horrible for your health! Horrible!"

You nodded, placing the remaining objects onto the floor and carefully picking up the boxes.

"You organize those pesky boxes dearie, I'll start sweeping."

The attic completely changed from gloomy to more refined within the day.

The boxes were stacked up forming a small wall with some free space behind it, the floors had been swept and sanitized (aside from the summoning circle) the candles were replaced with fresh ones, that book that summoned her was placed on one of the boxes.

Rosie had gone back and asked you to summon her back within the hour, bringing back some furniture with her.

She brought a smallish table, two fancy looking chairs, and a rug.

Rosie said as she sat in one of the chairs you in the other, drinking tea, you didn't know where she had gotten the tea from or when it got into your hands.

"Now that makes this place far better, far far better don't you think?"

You didn't like tea all that much but it felt rude to not drink it.

You wondered if it would kill you as you took a sip,

You glanced around at the open space, honestly it was overdo, you had been sleeping in there for a couple of years now and hadn't gotten around to it.

"Yeah, it feels less stuffy for sure,"

"As it should, now that's settled why did such a lovely young lady like yourself want to summon a demon?"

She asked setting her teacup down, getting straight to the point, you choked on your tea, clearing your throat you looked anywhere but in Rosie's void-like eyes.

It was silent for a few minutes,

"It's a long story, but basically parents went missing, moved in with my Godparents, Godmother went missing, Godfather started being suspicious, pretty sure he killed them, can't prove it and I think I'm next." You said in one large breath,

"Well shit, I wasn't expecting that, that's a very messy situation,"

"Auntie Rosie dearie."

"Yeah it is Miss Rosie,"

"Sorry Auntie Rosie."

You sat in silence for a moment, you fiddled with the hem of your sweater, did she believe you? Honestly you didn't particularly believe it yourself it was all suspected.

The attic felt gloomy again once Rosie left, you were once again left alone.

"Would you like me to eat him?"

"Par- Pardon me?!"

You let out a sigh before moving to one of the boxes pulling out a throw blanket and covering the circle, no one aside from you really came up there but couldn't hurt to be cautious.

You moved to the small space behind the boxes, you open another box pulling out a few two sleeping bags, layering them onto each other and placing a pillow on it, opening yet another box you pulled out a thick blanket, you laid on the sleeping bags, curling up into it and closing your eyes until sleep came for you.

A routine began, you'd carry on like normal, going to school, working shady part-time jobs, shoplift storage safe foods at large corporations like target, and go home before your Godfather finished work, sneak back into the attic, and depending on the day summon Rosie.

Rosie was concerned to say the least, you were young, not even a proper adult yet, and you were summoning cannibals in your Attic!

Not to mention how causally there was a whole missing people who were probably was murdered thing going on, would more detail go into that? No.

Rosie truly became an Aunt to you, bringing you trinkets, hyping you up, asking if you wanted her to eat your Godfather, after all that is what you originally summoned her for, but you didn't want to risk getting moved to a different area and having to redraw the circle to summon Rosie, what if you do it wrong? What if you never see her again?

So she didn't do anything to him, listening to your decision.

You would sometimes steal or buy something you think she'd like, and give it to her during her visits, she'd typically adore it whatever it was, because it came from you!

The two of you would have tea, give each other updates on life, and the afterlife.

It was nice, but like all nice things, it unfortunately came to an end.

You ran up the stairs, throwing your backpack at him to knock him down the stairs as you pulled out the attic ladder and hurriedly climbed the ladder up before kicking down the ladder to the attic, like a slasher protagonist, you hastily moved a few heavy boxes over the hatch.

He came home early, and when you walked inside the house to sneak upstairs into your attic, nothing was said, so it was concerning when he grabbed his murder weapon of choice and bolted off after you.

You just needed to summon Rosie and everything would be alright, they couldn't hurt you if Rosie was here,

You shakily pulled out the lighter that stayed in your pocket as you heard your Godfather shout your name, banging on the entrance.

Lighting the candles you scrambled to sit beside the circle, closing your eyes you began the summoning.

The wind began pushing as per usual,

The banging got louder, you could hear one of the boxes fall,

Just a few more seconds, and Auntie Rosie would appear, just a few more seconds and you'd be free, free from this lunatic, you could get a proper job that wasn't suspicious, probably go to collage, make proper friends that you could tell Rosie about with pride, you could give Rosie gifts that weren't stolen or cheap.

Just a few more seconds that's all you needed.

The hatch flew open, his eyes widened, no words were spoken, you didn't even get the chance to defend yourself when the murder weapon of choice, which was a machete because of course it was, stabbed into you.

Rosie appeared, smile dropping the moment she saw you on the ground, blood leaking into the Attic floors, the attic that she had helped you clean up, that she spent time with you in.

Rosie's eyes locked onto your godfather, bloody machete in hand, her mouth opened, revealing her razor sharp teeth.

Blood was splattered across the walls, Rosie wiped blood from her mouth with a handkerchief before kneeling down next to you and gently lifting you up into her lap,

Your eyes were glossy, and blood covered you.

You smiled up at her as she gently brushed away the hair from your face.

You tried to sit up but couldn't,

Rosie rubbed your back, trying to make you comfortable, unsure of what she could say to soothe you, you were dying and she could do much to stop it.

"Yes [Name]?"

"Auntie Rosie?"

"I,-" you take a painful breath, your last word privileges being revoked

"Shh, it's alright don't strain yourself, Close your eyes and rest dearie."

She said pulling you closer, rocking you gently in her arms until you breathed your last.

The door opened to the empty Emporium, Rosie sat in a chair writing down a grocery list,

"I'm sorry but the emporium's closed now!" She shouted over not looking up from her list.

"Auntie Rosie?"

Her head snapped over, eyes filling up with tears as she saw the very child that had died in her arms months ago, the child that she had adopted as her own, standing in her emporium with a nervous smile on their lovely face, the child she cared for had ended up below with her.

"[Name]? Oh my stars! my dear [name]!"

She got up from her seat, rushing over to embrace you, wrapping her arms around you as tears gathered up in your eyes.

"I missed you Auntie Rosie."

"I missed ya too Darlin', now-" she broke the hug and held your shoulders

"Let's get you settled in shall we? Are you hungry? I think we have some leftover pinkie fingers."

"I forgot you were a cannibal."

Rosie had prepared you a room, far better than the attic, because it was a legit room, with proper insulation.

You were staring in a mirror taking in your new appearance when Rosie knocked on the door,

"Sweetheart may I come in?"

"Sure! Come on in''

Rosie walked in and placed papers in front of you,

"Be a dear and sign these please"

"is this a contract for my soul?"

"Close! It's adoption papers, sign them."

Good evening folks, I crave sleep, also my apologies this was requested ages ago and I just now got to it, hope you enjoyed even though it's messy, I just killed off the reader the angst isn't that angsty

I wrote the angst first then everything else

#hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x you #hazbin hotel rosie x reader #hazbin hotel rosie #hazbin rosie x reader

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canonicallyalive · 2 months

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Let Your Heart Ignite // Alastor x Female Rabbit!Reader - Part 1

[ Author's Note: This is kinda boring since of course, she just arrived in hell. ]

Part 2

18+?Warning: Violence, Gore, Swearing, Sexual Assault, Cannibalism?

MDNI..

Characters: female rabbit!reader × Alastor , Other Demons.

Sypnosis: Y/n was surrounded by a gang of drug dealers in an alleyway, she just arrived in hell yet already experiencing a blood boiling event. To her suprise, a tall red deer demon has come to pass by and saw the chaos happening in sight.

Part 1 : First Day in Hell

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My vision began to fuzz as my heart slowly stops beating, i closed my eyes and took my last breath. But then, i feel my... body..? no, i feel like i'm falling... awfully slow. Until i finally reached the ground, laying down, i finally opened my eyes and the first thing i see is the empty red sky with a massive pentagram above me. It came to my mind immediately from the moment i first looked at it followed by the sound of screams and explosions nearby, i knew it, this is Hell.

“Ugh... Fuck.” I sat up and stretched myself, i noticed my skin is different and pointy claws fading to my dark colored hands that's reflecting a red glow from my eyes. Then, i felt a bumpy thing behind my lower back and i feel it squeezed on the ground. “Could it be..” i spoke to my thoughts, there's only one way to find out.

I placed my hand on the center of my back as i slowly moved lower, until my hand reached a fluffy texture that gave me a weird reaction. i slightly twisted to take a look and dear god, i have a tail. Does that mean i have ears too? I checked as i moved my hands up and reached my long ears that also gave me the same weird feeling when touched. Until it clicked, I'm a Rabbit Demon.

I didn't realize i was in the middle of an empty road until a red limousine almost ran towards my direction, luckily i immediately ran to the side of the road before it would hit me. The car didn't even pull over as if they saw nothing, this is hell after all. I tried taking deep breaths after that sudden suprise, and finally calmed myself down.

One of my ears twitched to the side as i hear footsteps approaching this way, also hearing the sound of their voices as i hurriedly ran towards a nearby alleyway and hid beside a large garbage bin, hoping to not get caught. I peeked slightly to see what was happening, it was a gang of demons exchanging something from their hands.. “Is that.. drugs?” You mumbled to yourself. “Mm.. This is some good shit you got there bud!” One of them said as they all giggled mischievously, they were enjoying their time with the drugs on their hands. Until one of them glanced on the alleyway and noticed a pair of ears perking up on the side of the garbage bin as they pulled a pistol from one of his pockets and pointed at my direction, realizing that I've been caught. I moved my ears down and pulled my head back from peeking.

“Shit.” i muttered to myself. “Show yourself, you little bitch.” The demon's footsteps are getting closer and immediately grabbed my arm with it's other hand “Wait- hey!!” I yelled and pulled away from his grasp as i ran yet another demon pulled my ears and pulled me off the ground. The demon started to look at my figure from head to toe, as his frown turned into a smirk. He scoffs “Ha! Would you look at that. A weak little lady, hiding behind a garbage bin?” the other demons started approaching him as they all laid their eyes on me as i struggle to escape from the demon's grip. “What's a sexy little rabbit doing here?” the other demon asked with a sultry tone, as they creeped their filthy hand from my ankle up to my knee, and under my dress then stopped.

Sending me chills of disgust as they caress their thumb on my thigh , my sclera turned from yellow to red as my iris turned white, my eyes glowing in anger. “FUCKING LET GO OF ME!” I raised my feet and kicked the demon's face as hard as i can. My act made me hit the wall hard and fall to the floor, it damaged my head and it bleed, my vision and mind couldn't focus but i try to get myself together. “You cunt.. agh!” The injured demon screamed in pain from the severe impact that damaged his face, the other demons started pointing their guns towards me as they move closer. “You better behave your ass, or you'll receive the consequences.” The other demon said yet my ears are ringing, unable to hear what they are saying as i crawled to the edge of the small alleyway. I just arrived in this place, yet i'm already gonna be fucked up by these bullshits.

“Now now, is that a proper way to treat a woman?” I heard a voice of a man coming from the outside of the alleyway, the voice sound like it came from a Radio? I couldn't confirm, i'm too focused on getting myself together and i refuse to pass out. “And you are?” One of the demons asked as everyone, even myself, looked at the man from the outside of the alley that was now walking towards them. He is wearing red pinstripe coat, underneath is a red shirt, with a black upside down cross as the design and a black bow with a oval shaped ruby on the center. Lastly, a long black pants with red cuffs at the end and a red oval-shaped monocle over his right eye, and a pair of pointy boots. He also wears a bob styled red hair with black at the ends, he has the appearance of a deer which is the ears and small pointy antlers, along with a impossibly wide smile on his face. And right now, he's looking at us with his glowing red eyes.

“Apoligies for my sudden intrusion, allow me to introduce myself!” he acts so formal and polite even in a situation like this? how... I snapped my head back from staring him to the situation i'm in, this is my time to escape while he keeps them distracted. I slowly got up yet i leaned against the wall to try to regain more energy to move as the man introduced himself infront of them with his radio filtered voice, which i find cool, keeping their attention towards him.

“I'm Alastor, Pleasure to be meeting you, Quite a pleasure!” he spun his spade shaped cane with an eye on his microphone that is attached to it behind him as he reached his hand towards the demons to offer a handshake, but they refused. I didn't listen his name clearly due to my physical state, i began to run past them as fast as i could. “Stay out of this Mr. Smile Freak before we coul- Hey! Come back here!” They we're about to chase me but the red demon immediately blocked their way “I told you to fucking stay out of thi-” the demon's words got cut off as they started to feel something piercing through his chest, Black Tendrils?

“Oh dear! where are your manners?” He complained, static filled the atmosphere as the surrounding glitches. “Woah, what the fuck?!” The group of demons yelled to him, he can sense the fear inside them, and he finds it amusing. “Well, this will be so much entertaining, won't it?” I already reached outside the alleyway and ran away for dear life while the floor rumbles as i hear their screams of terror, i don't wanna stay and wait any longer.

Alastor's Pov:

Blood scattered all over the alleyway, corpses are on the floor after i finished dealing with those filthy demons. I wiped my mouth clean with a towel that i spawned out of nowhere “Thanks for the early yet delicious meal, my dear fellows!” I spoke while turning himself against the corpses and walked out from the alleyway. “I apologize it took long, my dear-” I stopped, seeing that the rabbit demon was nowhere to be found. I shrugged it off the thought that she might be heading back to her place right now, that i scared her that it made her run away without informing me nor appreciate my help.

“We'll meet again, next time. I'm sure of it!”

______

I suck at this ik

#hazbin fanfic #alastor x reader #Let your heart ignite #hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #hazbin fandom

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mossmurdock · 6 months

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bite (o.yuta)

WARNINGS: biting, sorta implied cannibalism, suggestive themes, blood, spit

the first time you bite yuta, he flinches away. there's a natural instinct in him that he isn't able to push down quickly enough.

and he knows his body's reaction is all you're able to feel, because you draw away from him so quickly that your head hits the wall behind you with a sharp thud. if the contact hurts, you don't let on in any way, instead shielding your face away from his even further by tucking your chin into your collarbone; your nose painfully digs into your shoulder as your hands push at his chest harshly.

your jaw is shut tightly enough to break through more than yuta's skin. he's seen you bite through the wood of arrows easily, growing tired of averting his gaze when you do.

he says your name softly, yet sternly enough for you to stop pushing him away.

"i'm sorry," he reassures. "i'm sorry. i promise you didn't do anything wrong."

"you aren't ready." your voice is strained, almost barred from coming out of your own mouth, the words literally escape you by the skin of your teeth. you still aren't looking at him, head bowed in a painfully guilt ridden way.

"i am," he corrects, stopping himself from stammering when your eyes briefly look at him through the dark of your lashes. his wound throbs as you divert your gaze from his once more, as your lips purse from the sheer force it takes to keep yourself from baring your teeth, as you cling to him just as you struggle to keep him at a distance. all this hunger in you, it simmers and feeds yuta in a way he could have never imagined. he's never felt so full.

you're beautiful. your mouth could wrap around his throat and tear a chunk of it clean off, and you would find a way of doing it gently. he wouldn't feel anything but his own blood trickling down his chest, almost as warm as your hands, as your spit slicked tongue.

it's horrible that you can't see that.

his hands rise on their own, creeping up your body calmly. he forces you to look at him by edging his hand between your mashed cheek and the wall, using the lightest of force to turn your head. the tips of his fingers ghost at your scarred ears before dropping to your scalp as his palm dips through the juncture of your jaw, but the touch does not soothe you as it usually would. your breath shallows harshly at the feeling of his thumb at the corner of your lips, like the hollow crack of wind form the blizzard outside: swallowing, swallowing, swallowing.

the two of you look at each other, your eyes briefly screwing shut when the pad of his thumb glides further along the expanse of your mouth. they've always been chewed raw, always a little dry. the sight of it always made yuta wish you would give yourself just as much care. often, his own lips are wet with your spit or blood.

finally, your eyes seem to settle when he slowly drags his thumb down your lower lip, carefully peeling it open to expose the white of your mouth. you breath a long sigh through your nose, the warm air tickling the skin of his hand. yuta's finger feels out the groove of your bottom teeth naturally, eyes still on your own.

"open," he says. "please."

you do, tired jaw audibly clicking as you tentatively unlatch it from your own strength. it's slow, a little broken, he feels the pulse in your neck and realizes the two of you may not survive without the other.

your entire body seems to slack at the feeling of him: overwhelmingly welcoming, but there's still this glint in you.

yuta would be stupid to miss it. if he did, he isn't sure he could say he loved you with enough confidence.

it's this flash in your pupil, a kind of mirrored glowing, like two coins caught in the winter sun. he sees the way you look through him at times, watching the warmth beneath his skin pump and how the marrow of his bone works. a recognition so deep that you see beyond what the cold takes away from him and instead lap at what he can still—and will gladly—offer to you.

yuta switches carefully to his index finger, resting it comfortably on your flat tongue. he's captured your entire chin now, wetting it in the process.

your jaw is loyal to him, unflinching in reaction to his movement.

"bite," he pleads.

you do.

ummm yeah!! LMAO this is a little different from other stuff ive written but ive been getting more comfortable posting on here so here's this! i hope yall like it. also pls let me know if i missed anything in the warnings :)

#ANYWAY YOWZA #im really proud of this one and cant wait to get to the fic itself im really enjoying the concept #its very close to the content of my original writing so its very exciting #moss writes #jjk x reader #yuta x reader #okkotsu yuta x reader

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elliesmainhoe · 1 year

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Hunted

Abby Anderson X fem!reader

Summary: Although you stopped Abby from killing Joel, Ellie still wants to seek her revenge.

Contents: violence, injuries, scarring, domestic fluff, trauma response, PTSD, guilt, angst, cliffhanger, death mention, death alluded to.

Requested ages ago by my lovely 🍞 anon

You can remember it. The gore, the screaming, the sobbing. An old man- who reminded you of your father laying on the floor as your girlfriend buried a club into his head and his daughter, who reminded you of yourself being pinned down as she watched the life in her father figures eyes begin to drain out.

Abby got two swings in before you finally stopped her. And you regret not stopping her sooner.

Violence wasn't something you were accustomed to. Of course you'd seen it- you grew up in a post-apocalyptic world, with fungal-infected cannibals that was governed by a dictating military.

But to see someone- a human like yourself- be beat to a pulp for protecting his child just felt wrong to you. No matter however many times Abby talked in favour of her father and praised him, you strongly believed that the revenge Abby was seeking would not fill the whole his death left in her heart.

You remember it well, the bloodied man on the floor looking up at you in delirium as you screamed out incoherent words to the blonde that was killing him. Your disruption made everyone stop and look at you, your voice filling throughout the room for two minutes allowing Jesse and Dina to rush into the room and begin shooting.

Guns were fired and people ran, usually Jesse and Dina would have followed after- hunting every last one of them until they were dead, but they were preoccupied on making sure Joel wouldn't bleed out.

You remember that night, you and Abby had broken off from your group and made camp in an abandoned barn for the night. The fire roared, it's flames casting a golden glow onto her fair skin and dirty blonde hair. As Abby cried in your arms, trying desperately to calm down.

"It should- it should feel good" she hiccuped, muttering her voice scratchy "but... I don't... Why don't I feel better?"

You had so much to say. But you just couldn't.

••••••••••••

Joel lived. However, the hits to his head had messed up his mobility, so he was stuck in a wheelchair and had to be pushed around by Ellie and Tommy full time. There was a large scar that split his face in two, one eye was damaged and it's vision was restricted.

And worst of all? He was quiet. So so quiet. He barely ever spoke, he never laughed, he never told Ellie his stupid- stupid dad jokes. Abby may not have physically killed the man, but Joel's spirit was gone.

Ellie hated it, she sat with him daily, helping his trembling hands to shovel spoonfuls of soup into his mouth. She tried desperately, cracking jokes and reminiscing with him and nothing, nothing worked. Joel was gone.

Her dad was gone.

••••••••

Oregon was beautiful, the mountains, the trees, the water. It was perfect for you and Abby to settle down into, and you did. You found a beautiful abandoned cabin hidden thick into the woods, the view was beautiful, the expansive lake and the greenery. Just perfect.

Domesticity was not something you had ever thought about before, but it worked. It worked so so well. Abby enjoyed the physical tasks, her axe chopping skills were rapidly improving, and she loved hunting wild animals. You spent your time taking care of your new addition to the family, a german-shepard you'd named BoBo, among other little chores like cleaning and filtering water by boiling.

It was a beautiful morning, the sun creeped through the closed curtains, waking you and Abby up from your slumber. Her strong arms wrapped around your waist and squeezed your body tightly.

"Good Mornin' love" you whispered into her ear, ignoring the loud snores coming from BoBo who laid sprawled out on the foot of the bed. "Mornin' sugar" Abby groaned nuzzling her face into your neck trying to block out the sun's intrusion.

"we gotta get up baby" you cooed, pulling the stray blonde strands of hair, that had become loose from her braids, behind her ears. "No we don't..." "Yes, yes we do"

You began moving, leaving the warm soft covers behind and making Abby let out another frustrated groan.

The day flew by like any other day usually would, you woke up, went outside and collected fresh eggs your hens had laid, you made two omelettes, and Abby joined next to you filling up two glasses of water and setting the table.

After eating Abby left the cabin, looking at the animal traps she'd laid out the night before, two rabbits and a squirrel 'not bad'.

The sound of sharp barking echoes through the woods- BoBo yapping like mad. Of course Abby had heard the dog bark before- just never ever like this. It was desperate territorial growling and barking.

Something was wrong. Very very wrong.

Abby had never felt her legs move so fast before. Abandoning her catch on the mossy floor of the woods. The wind rushed through her blonde locks as her feet carried her as fast as possible, her breathing heavy but controlled

"Abby" your strained voice whimpered out from behind her as she slowed down, still deep in the woods.

Ellie's left arm was firmly and tightly wrapped around your waist, her other one held a knife to your neck drawing a line of blood as she increased the pressure of the blade against your skin.

"Let her go Ellie-" Abby's voice came out shaky despite all the effort she put into keeping it level. "I don't want to fight you..."

You hiccuped in an attempt to keep your sobs at bay, only causing Ellie to dig the hunting knife into your skin. "You don't have a choice." She grunted, hatred spilling out through the tone of her voice.

"Fine. Just leave her out of this" Abby softened, her shaking hands made a fist to try and cease the shaking and jittering of nervousness or anger? You couldn't tell.

The sudden release of Ellie's tight grip on you caused you to lose your balance. You stumbled before your foot got caught on an overgrown root of a tree making you tumble to the ground with a hiss at the twang of pain from your newly sprained ankle. Great.

Your mind was hazy- you heard the grunts and heavy breathing as the two women fought, but you couldn't bear to watch. Instead you turned your attention to the now whimpering BoBo who settled by your injured ankle, licking it softly in hopes it would ease your pain.

Ellie had ran at Abby, balled fist punching and swinging at the blonde who dodged and avoided her assaults.

"I don't want to hurt you" Abby gritted

"Stop being such a pussy and fucking fight me." Ellie spat, taking out the blade and handling it- begining to try and slash at the muscle of Abby.

Abby's body contorted, moving under Ellie's arm as she tried to swing the knife at her- coming from behind her and shoving her into the bark of one of the oak trees that surrounded the woods clearing.

Her hand manhandled the blade out of Ellie's tattooed hand throwing it on the grassy ground, still damp from the dewy spring morning. "Are we done now?... I'm not going to kill you Ellie."

"Fine. I won't give you a choice." The sound of a click came from behind Ellie's back, her hand pulling out the gun that had been strapped to her holster and pointed towards your sitting frame.

Bang.

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I don't think I like this. But here you go 🍞 nonnie.

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