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punk-in-docs · 2 years

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Hi love! I’m not sure if I requested this here or not (so if I did please ignore this and know I’m terribly sorry for asking again, I have a garbage memory) but if I didn’t, can I request an Eddie x reader fic where they’ve been in an established relationship (maybe like a year or 2). How do you think they would celebrate their anniversary? Like how do you think Eddie would be in particular, cuz I can see that lovable goofball being an anxious mess because he wants to do so much. But I’m interested to see what you think would happen in this sort of scenario, cuz you write Eddie so damn good ;)

Ok ok hear me out on this one cause I can so picture something: and it goes a little like this-

🍁love is kinda crazy with a spooky little boy like you🍁

Eddie yowled in front of you like a startled cat. You’d swear if he could, he’d raise his spiky hackles on end.

Does that thing with his arms, where he goes all shrivelled and squirrely. Mouth wide and shaped like a kidney bean as he shrieks.

Bravely though, batting the stuffed clowns cackling head, that just sprang out the shredded walls at you.

You’re lost wandering deep within the twisted seedy belly of the haunted house maze.

He punched his fist into the soft squish of the dummies head. Tufts of coarse blueberry coloured hair. Bulging chilli red eyes popping out at the pair of you. Grin all macabre on its stupid rubbery painted face.

He hates clowns. Doesn’t even like the one in that Bowie video.

“Fucker.” He hissed as he swiped at it again. Heart racing hummingbird fast in his throat.

Crushed his metal rings into it again, just because. Grits his teeth. He’s on edge.

Why did he agree to this scare jumping, spine chilling fuckery again-

Cause it’s stupid and fun. Get in the Halloween spirit. You’d said.

Then gave him a deep, beautiful kiss that was all toffee apple and pink pink cotton candy. Your tongue furred with sugar and, damn, how he suddenly forgot why he was ever mad. Haunted what? Scared, who?

“I do not like this.” He tells you.

Kept telling you, actually. His eyes go darting around corners. Gaze scanning ahead like you were tiptoeing enemies in a live war-zone.

“You’ve said that already.”

“And you apparently didn’t want to listen. So I’ll say it, once more, with feeling- I DON’T like this.” He repeats. Voice rising to a pitchy squeak.

He jiggles on the spot. Cagey. Jesus H Christ.

“Never again. I promise.” You smooth a hand to his chest and pat him on his Judas Priest shirt. Leaves warmth where you touch him that he’s too scared to enjoy right now.

“I mean what’s so wrong with the fucking bumper cars, honey? They don’t have dead fake mangled things everywhere with stuff popping out the walls- shit.”

He backs away sidewards, whimpers, edges away sudden, the wall next to him is broken wood slats and nails, with stubby zombie hands now poking through. Black rotting nails all split, half eaten flesh all green, yellow dirty bones exposed. Grunts of the undead leak through from the other side. Searching for your living juicy meat.

“I ain’t got any brains for you to eat. Morons. Go swivel.” He defends. It makes you smile.

“You like horror movies, Eddie, I thought you’d find it cool.” You try to offer in your own defence for getting you both in here.

His hand squeezes yours. Tight. Clammy with sweat.

“You can turn a movie off. Princess. You can press pause or take the video out, leave the room. It’s a small screen you can manage. I didn’t say ‘yeah sure, honey, drop me onto the fucking set of Night of the living dead. I don’t mind’.” He snaps quickly in parody. He doesn’t mean it nastily.

Despite everything, you can’t help it. You chuckle. He looks at you with a very specific look in his eyes.

You feel his hands grip for your hips in your pretty dress. He comes up right close behind you. You feel his hair brushing dry at the back of your neck. His lips skate against the crown of your head.

“Oh you’re so in for it if we make it out of here alive.”

“Theres optimism.” You rib at him. Reaching back to cup your hand over his cheekbone.

“Vamonos.” He encourages. Sneaking down and patting your ass softly.

You pass along a section of hallway where the lights blink, maniacal Vincent Price-esque laughs bubble up all around you. Rolling through the maze and snatching at your running heels.

Ghosts in jangling dragging chains with arms outstretched. Apple green eyes glowing under the white sheet. Groans and wails. The lilac purple gothic room full of creepy eyeless dolls, a chirpy lullaby from a demented music box tinkling away.

‘Help’ crudely scrawled on the walls in sticky fingertip blood, hand smears too, in the mouldy white tiles of the crazy surgeons dungeon. Screams pierce. Fake amputated limbs scattered across the operating table. Blood tinged saws and knives.

Now. He goes into his famous Munson defence mode. Scurrying along and keeping you pulled behind him. Arms braced out with you bracketed between them. Pulling you into his back and offering his own front as your shield.

The Dio vested Knight he was, all chivalry and manners, putting himself at risk for love of you. His maiden. His one. Maid Marian to his Robin Hood. Or more likely, as he liked to think of it, Marianne Faithfull to his Mick Jagger. Much cooler.

You looped your fingers through his. Pulling him back to your side.

“Don’t worry. I’ll always protect you, big boy.” You wink at him. Makes his heart squeeze and flash faster when you do that. You lean in and nuzzle a kiss onto his jaw.

He pulls you in closer. Your chest brushing into his. A twitchy sort of frenzy on his face.

“I just want you to know. If we weren’t in this hellscape. I would be making out with you so hard right now.”

“Noted.” You beam. Pulling him along again, shadows roll and flick over a movement down the corridor in your peripheral. You strong arm him away before the chain saw guy with the peeling rubber face and “human skin” mask could catch you.

That split cherry soft of your grin. He’s so soft for it. Lips pink from that watermelon balm you use that he never lets linger for too long. He would be lying if he said he didn’t like the silky taste.

You laugh and shriek when a guy in a skeleton costume, comes bursting cunningly out the slanted shadows of a corner.

“Leaving so soon?” He snarls.

“Eat shit, bonehead.” Eddie fairly screeches, and tugs you along with him. Body blocking you. Reeling you along to, hopefully, the fucking exit of this creepy hell hole.

Halle-fucking-lujah. It’s up ahead on the right. The lovely big green arrows pointing to the exit. Salvation. Freedom.

He yanks on your wrist and you run full speed towards it. Ghoul hands painted blue make one last attempt to rip at your clothes. Eddie bats them away.

Not today fuckers. Me and my lady getting out of here-

It’s definitely a relief when you come to the cooling wash of night air outside. It was stuffy inside. The cramped space choking with the smell of warm tacky plastic, and stale air lining the horror laden walls. The night air is so thick and blue out here you could drink it. Sticky opium of a bruising fall night.

The air is throbbing deep with autumnal scents. Warm bubbling cider. Fried funnel cakes. Buttery caramel popcorn and soft pretzels studded with salt. That definable gooey orange scent that comes gouged out the insides of pumpkins, pitted with seeds.

The wind isn’t threaded with a biting cold yet, but it promises too, as the treacly night drags on. Leaves, the colour of gold and apricot, crunch and snap under your feet.

Your favourite time of year. The best. The slice of the cold that has you reaching for chunky sweaters. Cold knifing rain on grey dour windows and gloomy days. Splashing your boots into autumn puddles mucked with leaves.

Horror movies, carving pumpkins, and baking orange and black sprinkle cookies with Eddie in the trailer.

He always went full tilt overkill and added way way too many sprinkles. More sprinkles than cookie, really. Lacing the place with the scents of sugar and vanilla dough. And home. Sitting out on the porch with a warm cider in your hands chatting to Wayne as he smokes. Laughing at Eddie whining about washing the dishes- getting excited that the cookies were rising too.

Eddie takes a deep breath. Scanning up at the haunted house maze you’d just stumbled through. His hand still very much clutched on yours. He meant what he said. He’d never let go. Eddie keeps his word.

Although the truth be told, he made you promise you wouldn’t let his hand go the second you stepped inside that maze.

You hadn’t let go of this hand for two years. You weren’t planning to start now.

And yes, the full fact of being here again is crashing into your gut. Making you all mushy swooning and sentimental. It was your tradition after all-

“Come on. Handsome. Let’s go. I’ll buy you a corn dog as a reward for being so tough back in there. Protecting me.” You nudge his arm to bring him in.

He steps towards you and curls you into them. Rubbing his arms along your sides. Looping hands around the back of your waist. He doesn’t say anything but he’s definitely smiling down at you. His belly pressed to you. Tilts his head. Pensive look on his face.

You’re touching in so many places. All tangled and wrapped up in leather and denim like you usually are around him.

“What is it?” You ask him. Scanning that maniacal face and those deep puddles of oozing chocolate eyes for an answer.

“It’s been two years. To the exact day.” He says softly. His thumbs smoothing over the backs of your hips.

You smile at his recounting it. “Believe me. Munson. I remember.”

“We were arguing. On top of that very Ferris wheel. Two years ago. When I first asked you out.” He points behind your hip with his finger.

Up towards the huge circular ride studded with yellow and red bulbs all the way around. A huge golden eye of dragging slow metal brushed against the navy sky.

“I was winning the argument by the way.”

“You always do. Cause I’m such a peach. I let you.” He winks. Grins all big. Shiny teeth.

Mainly he loses cause he just skips up to you like a jester, spins you around, and kisses you until you’re smiling again.

“…And it was the fourth time you asked me out. To which I finally relented, and said yes. Only if I can pick the movie and we can get cotton candy afterwards.” You beamed.

“You didn’t tell me you very vehemently hated heights.” He teased.

“I went on that ride for the excuse of being sat next to you for ten minutes, you dope.” You tell him.

It rips a chuckle out that pillowy lovely mouth. You slip your arms around the back of his neck. Sway into him. Narrow your eyes when he laughed.

“It worked. I got to kiss you and I got a date. Even if you did break all the bones in my hand you squeezed it so hard.” He recalled. He had blue knuckles for three weeks. Swollen sore. He couldn’t play guitar for a month.

He drags one curled knuckle over your cheek. Those eyes of yours he loves - the eyes he’s a servant too - are brimming golden, bursting with the fairground lights glimmering all around you. Threaded chilli red in your hair too.

“And you bought me the most huge pink cotton candy I’d ever seen.”

“Shaped like a fucking heart.” He smiled.“You feral little thing. Ate it all in ten minutes.”

“You helped.” You pointed out.

He leaned in and brushed his nose across your cheek. Into the nest of your hair. Kisses your jaw. You chuckled and slipped your arm up his back.

“Kissed most of it off your lips.” He remembers in a soft mumble, with a waggle of those brows. Lips planted against your cheek. Tone dipping naughtily into flirt.

Kissed and kissed until the sugar made him feel sick. Now he knew what the term lovesick meant. His metal and thorn wrapped rocker heart you had cupped safely in your hands. He’d never have it any other way.

You yank your hand into the back of his wild hair. Hold him still as you devour his lips with yours. Taste the Marlboro smoke that lived at a permanent address on his tongue. Pipped with the sweet toffee from the apple you’d both pecked at earlier. He’d kissed and bitten his pieces of apple right out your offered mouth.

Tasty as fuck, he’d said. He hadn’t even meant the apple.

He moans and you feel it shoot and slice to your belly. Gut punch love. His moans- they are better than music.

He cups you and keeps you yanked firm against his front as he kisses you back. Sneaks his tongue into your mouth, and the way it brushes yours makes your knees whirl all useless.

Damn his tongue should be criminal to be that good-

You don’t care that crowds of people are cutting around where you’re making out with your boyfriend. It was a carnival. High schoolers were dating and kissing horny all over the damn place.

What was one more star studded couple with hearts lodged in their eyes?

You cross your arms around the back of his neck. He tips into you. Skims his big warm hands up the backs of your smooth thighs. Resists cupping your ass in public- he should really get a medal for that. C’mon-

When you pull back, he chases after your mouth. Greedy and always so. Not ready for it to be over yet. He’s never ready to stop kissing you.

“Kettle corn. A pink lemonade. And a corn dog. Final offer.” You smile at him. An effective bargaining chip you kept in your pocket. Plying him with food as persuasion.

The way into Eddie Munson’s heart was occasionally via a funky reroute to his stomach.

You’re shameless and it works.

“Sold.” He grins. Enjoying the hell out of the way your tits are crushed to his chest right now.

“…Then the Ferris Wheel, honey.” He smirks with a pure maniacal grin of evil. “You can break my fingers again. I’ll let you.”

“This is you getting your own back for the haunted maze isn’t it.” You wilfully decide. That stubborn jut of your chin. Unimpressed eyes scratching daggers at him.

“My hand hasn’t left yours for two years. Sweet cheeks. Not gonna start now.” He beams.

He loops an arm over your shoulder. Steers you towards the corn dog stand. You tangle your steps alongside his. Slide your arm across his trim waist. His leather arm cold around your shoulder.

“Then after the food and the Ferris wheel. I’m gonna take you back to the van. And do filthy filthy things to you, whilst the firework show bursts across the sky.” The way his lips brush the shell of your ear makes your thighs wobble and shoot with sensation.

“Filthy you say?” You ask with hot blood gathering up in your cheeks. Gold lights bloom in his dark eyes like round petals. Dazzling.

“Yep.” He pops the p.

“Gonna lick you real slow. Make you yelp. Then just gonna slide my tongue right in, far as I can, I’m not gonna be stopping until you melt. Right into my mouth.” He decides with a playful little kiss to your jaw.

Goddamn it this boy knows how to make your pussy throb and clench.

“Is this all part of your grand revenge plan?” You seek.

“No. Baby. Just a damn good way to spend a Friday night with my favourite chick.”

Your heart is all melty. Slipping down the insides of your butter soft ribs. You do so love this man with every single tiny atom of your being.

“I thought your guitar was your favourite chick?” You play.

He grins. Chucked all sweet. “Nah. You feed me. You win hands down babe.”

Tagging some Munson babes; @indouloureux @youaremyfamiliar @fujiihime @groupie-love-71 @stiegasaw @thelyingpierrot @munsonquinns @captain-tch @ramona-thorns @starbxcks @morganamoonstone

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lovelyney · 1 year

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⎯⎯ CHAPTER TWO, A BREATH OF FRESH AIR❞

DESC. one the first day of your rehabilitation, Kazuha decides he wants to walk you around the harbor!

WARNINGS. none that i can think of ♡ enjoy some cute moments between you and Kazu! (:

FLORIST’S NOTE. i did not know that the main event of lantern rite would only be two days long this year ‹/3 sobs

SONG. Oh Death ― SUGR?

PREV. 《 MASTERLIST 》 NEXT.

STIRRING awake, your (COLOR) irises fluttered open, finding Kazuha opening the curtains to allow the warm sunlight to soak into the room. you let out a quiet whine at the unwanted glare and shoved your face more profound into your pillows.

Kazuha chuckled lightly and took a seat next to you. “the sun has risen for the day, hummingbird — which means it’s time for you too, as well. surely you’ve gotten enough rest, hm?” he crooned.

yesterday after your arms were properly treated, Kazuha and Xiao let you rest for the remaining of the day, recognizing how much you desired to get some peaceful sleep — proven by the dark circles shadowed under your eyes.

“hnnnm, do i have to?” you murmured and hugged the duvets closer against your figure, having no desire to get out of your comfy position.

the boy chuckled softly, “i’m afraid so, kaze. we’re taking a walk around Liyue Harbor today, and i’d rather not have you walking around like a zombie.” gently grabbing your bandaged hand with his own, he pulled you up to face him — his smile growing wider at your sleepy expression. “cute…” he thought as he carefully brushed the hair out of your eyes.

you rubbed your eyes and looked around the room, “where’s Xiao?” you wondered.

“he said he had some adeptal duties to deal with as of today. so it’s just going to you and me today. he said he’d make up for it tomorrow,” he replied as he softly combed through your bedhead; he fought back a smile when you nuzzled your cheek into the palm that kept your head elevated. “say dove. do you think you’d be comfortable with meeting new people? i’d like to introduce you to a close friend of mine today. she’s a little. . . outgoing. granted, i think she’d like you a lot.”

you tensed slightly at the ask, your head almost immediately flooding with the ‘ifs’ and ‘buts.’ you knew you couldn’t stay trapped in your cage forever. you questioned, “what—what is she to you? like. . . how do you know her?”

Kazuha tilted his head curiously and set a fresh set of clothes in your lap to change into. “well, i’d say she’s like my older sister, although we aren’t at all related by blood. she happened to take me in when i needed somewhere to stay and hid me when danger sought me out,” he informed, observing as your gaze saddened at the mention of a family member. he pressed on, “your situation stays between me and Xiao, (NAME) i promise you that with all my heart. in no way am i going to put you in harm’s way by saying something you don’t wish me to.”

you sighed worriedly, “alright, i suppose i’ll trust your better judgment.”

he nodded, a fulfilled smile curving on his lips. “it delights me to hear that, dove. get dressed, and we’ll start our day, mhm? i’ll wait for you on the other side of the door,” he cooed and pressed his lips to your forehead before leaving so you couXld get changed.

dragging out a gradual breath, you reached to touch where his lips feathered over. Kazuha certainly was affectionate, wasn’t he? not like you necessarily objected to it; you found it pacifying after being starved from physical touch for so long.

after you finished getting dressed, you took a brief look in the mirror and smoothed the small wrinkles. the outfit was much more formal than what you’d usually wear; it had you wondering how he picked it out.

Kazuha, who was talking to Verr Goldet at the time, turned to you as you left the bedroom; his vermillion eyes crinkled as he drank in the sight of you. “ah, there you are, hummingbird. i must say i did a satisfactory job choosing you an outfit. . . you look breathtaking.” he flattered and grabbed your hand when you reached his side. “that aside, are you ready?”

your breath gets captured in your throat as his words shoot an arrow directly through your heart. was he always this flirty, or was it just towards you? you hoped it was the latter. . .

shifting your weight, you nodded, feeling yourself shrink a little at the tenderness that glistened in his eyes. not to mention, he was holding your hand! your heartbeat thumped in your ears as he gave it a reassuring squeeze.

he smiled at your bashfulness and turned to Verr Goldet. “alright, we’ll be off, Verr. we should be back by sunset. take care,” he said.

your anxiety climbed higher as the two of you neared the harbor, the fear of not knowing what to expect plaguing your mind. you murmured, “hey, Kazuha. . . how busy is it there? like in the harbor.”

the boy let out a thoughtful hum, “well, on normal occasions, it isn’t too busy. however, since Lantern Rite is around the corner, i’d expect it to be quite lively,” he informed.

you lamented, “ah, i completely forgot about lantern rite…”

Kazuha frowned with a curious tilt of his head. “hm? why do you sound so discouraged, dove? do you normally not celebrate it?”

your teeth sunk into the inside of your cheek, and your mind whirled with the proper way to phrase your answer without giving away too much. “not in a way that i would’ve liked. . . Qingce Village is quite far from the festival itself, so i never got to see the lanterns; let alone make one,” you explained.

he nodded sympathetically. “i see. . . well, that’s one of the reasons why we’re going, is it not? for you to experience the things you wished you could — the things you deserved to see.” he expressed. “there’s a stall i know of that lets you make lanterns. how about we stop there when we’re finished with everything?”

you opened your mouth to speak but quickly fell silent, his words registering in your mind. “i’d like that a lot…”

“then it’s decided.”

upon reaching Liyue Harbor, you shambled attentively behind your friend, watching with trembling eyes as people happily chatted and roamed the city. you held your breath as people closely passed by, their eyes briefly settling on you before continuing to amble on. “please don’t tell me they recognize me. please don’t tell me—”

“haha, not used to big crowds?”

you swung around, a bit startled by the unusual voice, to be confronted by a woman with long off-white hair, her warm golden eyes searing directly through yours. your throat tightened as you searched your mind for something to say.

Kazuha recognized your apprehension and nudged you slightly behind him, allowing you time to calm yourself. he smiled kindly, “pleasure to see you, Ningguang. this is (NAME), a friend of mine. this is her first time in the harbor, so she’s a little nerve stricken.”

She nodded and offered you a gentle yet reassuring smile. “aw, is that so? welcome to Liyue Harbor, (NAME). as Kazuha said, my name is Ningguang; i’m the tianquan at the Liyue Qixing.” she greeted.

quickly composing yourself, you sheepishly peeked your head over the anemo user’s shoulder and returned the act. “a—as to you, Ningguang! and thank you.”

Kazuha lovingly reached his hand up and ruffled your hair, presenting you a little consolation. “i’m surprised to see you out in the city, Ningguang. i thought you’d be in the Jade Chamber preparing the Lantern Rite preparations,” he pointed out.

“i strived to finish them a bit more earlier this year so that everyone could take the time to enjoy themselves; i’m just taking a walk around to make sure everything’s in order. . . it seems Liyue is just as excited as always.” the woman’s regard traveled to his hand in yours, her eyes discreetly lighting up. “how about you, lovebirds? what brings you here on such a busy day?”

ripples of hot air washed over your face at the question. “u—um! we aren’t—” stutters spilled from your lips as you scrambled to deny that you two were, in fact, not dating. you turned to Kazuha, who stared at you amused, and shook his arm frantically as to say, say something!

the blonde chuckled, drinking in your flustered expression. “archons, that shade of red certainly suits her.” he thought before looking back at Ningguang. “this is (NAME)’s first time celebrating Lantern Rite, so i’m showing her around to ensure we don’t miss anything,” he explained. “have you seen Beidou at all today? i’d like them to meet.”

Ningguang arched an eyebrow, “oh? is that so? i’m sure she’ll adore you, (NAME). she should still be at the docks. when you do see her, tell her to keep out of trouble, will you?”

“i’m certain of it as well, and of course, i will. take care, Ningguang; happy Lantern Rite.” he chuckled and gestured for you to follow behind him.

you bowed your head to the girl, a shy smile outlined on your lips when you bid her goodbye before catching up to Kazuha.

your mind aimlessly wandered to how Kazuha didn’t dismiss Ningguang’s claim that you two were dating; i mean, she didn’t bluntly say it, but surely she assumed it by calling you two lovebirds, right? or maybe you were just overthinking it all. . .

“little dove? are you feeling unwell? how come you’ve grown silent?” the boy worried and stroked your inner wrist with his thumb, his gentle touch bringing you back to reality.

you shook your head dismissively. you quickly reassured, “n—no! i’m feeling fine. sorry, i’m just. . . thinking.” you prayed the faint crimson on your cheeks wasn’t prominent. spoiler alert: it was.

he nodded, smiling innocently; he knew exactly what you were thinking about. “how about we stop and eat somewhere? i know you haven’t eaten yet, and Wanmin Restaurant is known for its delicious meals,” he proposed.

as soon as he said that, your senses were enveloped in the aroma of spices. you sighed, “now that you mention it, i am pretty hungry. i didn’t bring any mora with me, though...”

Kazuha hooked his fingers under your chin and lifted your head, scarlet irises dimly lit with attachment. “good thing this is my treat, yes?” cooed the blonde as he pressed his lips to your forehead. “come, let’s sit. i’ll buy you anything you’d like.”

you swallowed hard and sat down next to him, freezing up as he offered you a menu. “at least let me pay you back when i get the chance.” you huffed and skimmed through the variety of different foods.

“(NAME), i said this is my treat, did i not? if you’re really so troubled over repaying me, you can do it by enjoying yourself.”

you grimaced, your shoulders slumping in defeat. “but i feel like you’re doing so much for me, and i’m offering nothing in return...” you murmured, gaze drawn away from him in discomfiture.

the boy delivered a light sigh and lifted your hand to kiss your inner wrist, the butterflies in your stomach fluttering hurriedly to their next blossom. “kaze. please lay your worries to rest. you mustn’t give anything to me; you’ve given enough of yourself to the world. . . let me help repay its debt, yes?” he expressed. “now. . . what would you like to eat?”

AFTER EATING⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⟢

sighing in satisfaction, you sipped the remaining broth in your black-perch stew. Kazuha certainly wasn’t lying when he said Wanmin Restaurant had delicious food.

“aaahh~ that was delicious!” you squealed and set the bowl down. “thanks so much, Xiangling! you’re such an excellent cook!”

the girl giggled, “it makes me so happy to hear that! it’s my own recipe!” her hands excitedly tapped against the marble counter; “oh! oh! how are you spending Lantern Rite?”

you laughed sheepishly and signaled to Kazuha, who talked to Xinyan about something. “err—well, i’m not too sure what the plan is, but Kazuha said he had something in mind,” you said.

her eyes lit up to rival the lanterns that hung in the city. “oho~ spending it with your boyfriend now, are you? hehe, how romantic!” she bubbled.

your eyes flew open as you frantically shook your head in protest. you spluttered, “nonono! Xiangling, we—we aren’t dating! i only officially met Kazuha yesterday!”

just as you finished speaking, you felt Kazuha’s hand wrap comfortably around yours. “you ready to head out, kaze?” he asked and fit his fingers between yours with a guiltless smile.

“you are NOT helping.” you couldn’t help but think as you hopped from your seat. “yeah! i’m ready!” you exclaimed and turned to your new pyro friend(s), your countenance falling when you regarded how xiangling smirked. “w—what’s with that look?”

“are you sure you aren’t—”

“yesXianglingi’msure!”

Xinyan chuckled, “aww, you two are the cutest! it was nice meeting ya, (NAME)! you gotta come to one of my performances sometime! i’d love to have ya!”

tiredly sighing, you reached your non-occupied hand up and ruffled your hair. “you as well, Xinyan! i’ll try and see if i can stop in sometime and see you perform,” you replied. “thank you guys so much for your hospitality; it means a lot.”

Xiangling smiled, her hands firmly set on her hips. “aww! of course, (NAME)! please feel free to stop by any time.” she chirped and waved you goodbye.

as the two of you ambled forward, your eyes lingered on yours and Kazuha’s hands — still lovingly cradling one another. no wonder people thought you two were together; he’s practically had a hand on you the entire day. it had you considering how he didn’t feel partially humiliated at the speculations. you didn’t have a vision, and those who did (aka, Kazuha) were highly regarded in the eyes of everyone. did he not find it embarrassing to be seen holding hands with someone who wasn’t on the same status as him?

being too engrossed in your self-deprecation, you hadn’t recognized you two had already reached the ship docks. you nervously surveyed the surroundings, watching as kids excitedly darted past you. feeling your anxiety start to swallow you, your grip on Kazuha’s hand slightly tightened.

in return, Kazuha slid his thumb over your wrist in small circles. “deep breaths, hummingbird. i promise you’re safe with me,” he soothed.

you nodded silently, not noticing how his eyes paused on each passerby to ensure they weren’t gawking at you.

Kazuha halted at one of the ships. “good evening, Beidou,” he greeted a woman with deep brown hair, her hands going through some boxes.

a pair of ruby eyes peeked up and fixed on the two of you. “Kazuha! i’ve been wondering where you ran off to. who is this you have here?” crowed the woman as she dusted herself off.

he smiled gently and held up your intertwined fingers. “Beidou, this is (NAME), a dear friend of mine. (NAME), this is Beidou, the leader of the Crux Fleet.” he introduced.

Beidou grinned, kindly offering her hand to you. “it’s nice to meet you, (NAME)! any friend of Kazuha’s is a friend of mine!” she beamed, eyes aimlessly wandering to your guys’ close proximity. “a friend, eh? it’s about time you got yourself a little girlfriend, Kazu! you two are adorable! make sure i get an invite to the wedding.”

you blinked rapidly, your heart jumping a beat at the word wedding. archons, these claims only keep getting bolder, don’t they? you let out a quiet gasp, feeling Kazuha’s arm curl around your waist and pull you tight against his side.

the boy chuckled, fingers softly drumming against your hip. “haha, sure thing, Beidou; you’ll be the first to know. this is actually her first time in the city, and her nerves have quite the hold on her. would you mind offering some words of advice? you’re one of the bravest people i know, and i thought it’d be rather fitting,” he acknowledged.

she nodded, her grin growing broader at the color in your cheeks. “aw, you flatter me, Kazu! and, of course, i will! please, come on board! i’ll get you guys something to drink!” she chorused.

Kazuha nudged you slightly forward,“no need to be shy, hummingbird. Beidou may be very extroverted, but you’ll find her to be a sweetheart.” he assured and stepped on the boat.

you gulped, eyes merely focused on how the ship steadily rocked back and forth. you couldn’t help but think that if you were to misstep, you’d fall directly into the ocean. . . in front of Kazuha. why did such a thought cross your mind? you weren’t sure.

the ronin hummed and held his hand out, “take my hand. i promise i won’t let you fall,” he said as if he read your mind.

as you hesitantly slipped your hand in his, you carefully set foot on Beidou’s ship. you yelped as it swayed, causing you to stumble into Kazuha’s chest from the sudden motion.

his hands swiftly rested on your hips to help stabilize you, only retreating when the movement fully came to a stop. “are you alright?” he muttered against your hair.

your breath hitched as you remembered your position. quickly pulling away, tidal waves of magma flooded your system. “ah! i—i’m so sorry about that, Kazu!” you frantically apologized, your eyes anywhere but his.

Kazuha innocently tilted his head, his lips pursing into a sweet smile as blush tinted his cheeks. “did—did you just call me Kazu. . .?”

“shit.”

SUNDOWN⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⟢

you tiredly hung onto Kazuha’s arm as the end of the day wrote itself into existence faster than expected; at that moment, you realized how grateful you were that Kazuha had refused Beidou’s offer of alcohol.

Kazuha let out a quiet chuckle, one of his hands brushing away the strands of hair that curtained your eyes. “as much as you’re adorable when you’re sleepy, dove, we still have to make our lanterns. afterward, i’ll carry you the rest of the way back. does that sound good?” he crooned softly.

you answered groggily, “i’ll be fine...” letting go of your hold on his arm, you attempted to stand upright and wake yourself up. “sorry for acting so yawn clingy. . . ’m just really tired.”

Kazuha simpered, staring at you with the gentleness of the breeze in the early mornings. “i, in no way, object to you holding on to me, (NAME). i think it’s rather cute…” he cooed, voice as quiet and delicate as a feather.

“there you two are. . . shouldn’t you be back at the inn?” a gruff voice said from behind you two.

Kazuha stiffened and tucked you safely behind him, only to sigh in relief to see the voice belonged to Xiao. “ah, there you are, Xiao. i was wondering where you might be off to. (NAME) and i were just about to go make a lantern before returning; would you want to join us?” he informed, feeling himself relax as one of your hands coiled around his bicep.

the conqueror of demons scoffed, “i don’t care for mortal rituals, so i’ll have to decline—” he jolted at the feeling of you clutching his wrist.

shaking your head, you stubbornly glared at him. “like hell you are! if we’re doing this, then we’re doing it together!” you interjected proudly and dragged him over to the stand — your other hand still wrapped around Kazuha.

“excuse me—”

“why, hello, you three! would you guys like to make a lantern?” the lady greeted cheerfully.

“yes, we would, please.” laughed Kazuha, playfully glowering at Xiao, who opened his mouth to protest. he turned to you, smiling warmly as the golden light of the lanterns adorned your (COLOR) irises. “do you have anything in mind for your wish, (NAME)?”

Xiao felt himself freeze as your head tiredly fell to his shoulder. “archons, could this girl get any more careless? what if my karmic debit infects her?” he thought worriedly, though he made no effort to move. “well? you better have something in mind if you’re dragging me into this.” he grumbled, choosing to ignore the ripples of warmth clouding his chest.

Kazuha smiled and leaned against you, causing xiao to shift a little uncomfortably. “your expression gives away your true feelings, dear adeptus.” he hummed.

“d—don’t speak such nonsense! y—you have no idea what i’m thinking!”

smiling somnolently to yourself, you picked up the pen and scribbled down your wish, the warmth of kazuha and xiao nearly lulling you to sleep.

“in these next few days, i wish to rekindle a new love for life and (hopefully) keep these two close in the process ♥”

LITTLE EXTRA⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⟢

“you sure don’t want me to carry them, Xiao? you seem a little flustered,” Kazuha teased slightly, already knowing the answer to the question.

“i’m—i’m certain, Kazuha. you’ve done your share for today...” Xiao uttered and looked down at you, peacefully asleep in his arms.

the latter chuckled, “yes, certainly, that is the only reason why you decided to carry them...”

FLORIST’S NOTE 02. i don’t want to talk about how LONG this to took to write omg ‹/3 i’m SO sorry y’all. i really wasn’t expecting the event to be only two days and there was no many roadblocks that i couldn’t even finish within the timespan of the 14ish days it kept going. is this something you guys are still interested in? should i keep it going? does it matter that lantern rite is over? 😭😭 let me know.

CUSTOMERS. @eimuros ― @miaoxi ― @oceanbluesixeyes ― @apple-ai ― @izzyandviolins ― @tsuyumbrella ― @dark-knight-hero

#⟡ — fawn’s flowers #⟡ — make a wish #kaedehara kazuha #genshin impact #xiao #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x y/n #xiao x reader #xiao x you #xiao x y/n #kazuha x reader #kazuha x you #kazuha x y/n #lantern rite

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chronosabyss · 1 year

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My newest D&D character, Anissa the Circle of Spores Druid. Anissa is a fairy who was ejected from the feywild for wearing an out of season outfit to her sister's autumn banquette. (Totally not on purpose to embarrass her or anything!) She comes from a fey court that specializes in the cycle of fungus, mold, and decomposition. She can use mold magic to raise zombies from the dead.

Her design is based on the Indian Flower Mantis with some hummingbird influences. Best feature, her second set of legs that can act as little grabby hands when she's not using them for walking.

#D&D #DnD #D&D OC #Fairy #D&D Fairy #Fey #Circle of Spores Druid #Druid #Anissa #Chronos OCs

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mhdiaries · 2 years

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Wave 1 Ghoulia Yelps Diary

*kindly sent in by @fedorasquidwithglasses*

July 15,

I went to the mailbox to see if the book on monsterlecular biology I ordered was there and by the time I started back to the house it began to rain. Needless to say I was soaked by the time I got back inside. Everyone thinks I am so smart but if I were really intelligent I would carry an umbrella with me wherever I go.

July 16,

I woke up with a monster cold this morning. Ugh… I just wanted to lie in bed and simply un-die. Sir Hoots A Lot kept me supplied with tissues and books so I did not have to get up and mom even brought in some lukewarm dragon noodle soup although I am quite sure it was hot when she left the kitchen with it.

July 25,

I started a new book today. Actually it is a graphic novel… okay comic book. It is all about a zombie boy who gets pecked by a radioactive hummingbird and gains the power of super speed. I know it is just a made up story but a ghoul can dream can she not?

July 31,

So there is this zombie boy and I have become completely enamored with him. He plays on the casketball team and he is sweet and smart and I get tongue tied every time I am in his presence. I attempted to ask some of my ghoul friends what I should do but all the advice they gave me just seemed wrong. I even thought about sending a letter to one of those teen monster magazines:

Dear Relationship Know-It-All,

I am totally head over tombstone with the most engaging zombie boy but I am too nervous to talk to him. Please send your most generalized reply with a solution so diluted that it has no possible application to my current situation.

Signed, Thoroughly flummoxed in his presence

I did not, of course, send the letter. The last thing I want to do is publicly announce my inability to function in the presence of the opposite sex. It really should not be this difficult but it does require a certain amount of spontaneity and unscheduled events are not my fate.

August 15,

Today was the day I had scheduled to make a trek to The Maul in order to take advantage of their back-to-school fashion sales. Unfortunately due to circumstances beyond my control involving a flat tire, an intransigent hunchback and untimely solar flares I goes to The Maul about 4 hours late. I was able to makeup most of the time because I had a list of things I needed, which allowed me to bypass shopping and proceed straight to buying mode. The last stop on my list was the shoe store and I got there just as they were closing. I tried to talk to the store lurk into giving me just a few minutes but she did not understand zombie so she just rolled her eyes said “Sorry we’re closed,” and started to pull down the roll up security door. This caused the whole day to come crashing down on me and I started to fall apart. It was then that something remarkable happened. An arm reached around from behind me and stopped the door from closing. Then through my tears I could see that the door was being pushed back up and store lurk’s eyes had gone very wide. I do not know where she came from, but Clawdeen, perhaps the most intimidating girl at Monster High, stood there in full Alpha mode. “She said she had a list and that it wouldn’t take long, and since you are trying to close five minutes earlier than your posted hours, I suggest you open up and wait on her.” The lurk swallowed hard and said, “Of course Ms. Wolf.” Clawdeen put her arm around me and said, “Come on ghoul friend let’s try on some shoes.” It was one of the most enjoyable shopping experiences of my short zombie life. I even bought an extra pair on Clawdeen’s advice and when we were done she and her brother Clawd gave me a ride home so I didn’t have to take the bus. It is unfortunate that Clawdeen is still angry at Cleo because of the way Cleo and Clawd’s relationship ended. In retrospect though, I suppose Cleo should not have started dating Deuce the day after she dumped Clawd but what do I know about relationships?

August 20,

I made the acquaintance of a new girl today. Her name is Frankie Stein and although her understanding of zombie is quite rudimentary, she only asked me to repeat something twice. She had many questions about what it is like to be a zombie. Her inquiries showed a remarkably limited knowledge of zombie life and culture but I was happy to oblige her in her quest for knowledge. Her first question was, “Why do zombies only speak zombie but write in vernacular?” Okay, she did not use the word “vernacular” Anyway… I told her that it was a function of our unique zombie physiology. Actually, I believe I said that it is the way we are made – like a werewolf gets doubly hairy and ferocious on nights with a full moon or a vampire not being able to go out in the sun without totally covering their skin. It just is. I look forward to getting to know Frankie better when school starts. She is monstrously sweet.

August 31,

I received my “Zombies are monsters too!” t-shirt and bumper sticker in the mail today. The bumper sticker will have to go onto my wall until I get my license but I will proudly wear the t-shirt, under something else, because I hate drawing undue attention to myself. Yes I am being contradictory here. I want to make a statement but I do not want to be noticed while I am doing it. Why a statement? Well, it is not as if zombies are treated poorly by the “legacy” monsters but sometimes we do get treated like background noise which is a little disheartening. Yes we only speak zombie, yes we slowly shuffle along, yes we often appear to be devoid of personality but the same observation could be made about any teenager. Regardless, I am just as special as any pedigreed monster. Speaking of pedigreed monsters, my iCoffin just went off to remind me I am supposed to meet Cleo de Nile tomorrow.

September 1,

Spent the day at Cleo de Nile’s helping her get her class schedule organized. While Cleo does have the reputation of being arrogant and demanding, which she is at times, she can also be generous and helpful. How does she help me? It is hard to socialize when you are as shy as I am but Cleo will not allow me to sit on the sidelines. When we first became friends she took me around and introduced me to everybody – even Clawdeen! Now I am included in every social event and I have so many good friends at MH that while I am still shy they will not allow me to be invisible. I am still closest to Cleo though because she took a chance on getting to know a quiet and nerdy zombie girl when she really did not have to.

September 6,

Although I have enjoyed my time off for the summer I am eagerly anticipating the resumption of the school year tomorrow. I know that I am unusual in this but school is where I get to focus on my two favorite activities, acquiring knowledge and spending time with my friends.

#monster high #monster high diary #Ghoulia Yelps #wave 1

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sanderchu · 2 years

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Ok so I’ve had this ideas where Dadza finds a hummingbird hybrid teen reader in a cave trying to fight off a bunch of mobs with just a wooden sword, so obviously he helps the child and adopts them. Sorry if this doesn’t make sense, I made this up at 4 in the morning

Under my wing

Note: this is so fucking cute- we love dadza here <33

C!philza and reader

Father and child relationship don’t be weird!

Reader: Gn!reader

Y/n’s pov

You were laying under a tree relaxing just looking around. Until you felt it, a little rain drop fall through the leaves. You immediately got up and started to run but the rain wasn’t fair behind. You panicked since you didn’t really have a home so couldn’t just run home so you had to resort to one thing, a cave. You managed to find one quite quickly so immediately went in and sat at the end of the cave watching the water fall. The cave was small yet long so it was pretty roomy and kinda comfy as you sat in this random rock.

As you were watching and waiting for the rain to go away you heard a sound. Like a sorta groan but thinking it was the cave and it’s sounds you ignored it. A bit later you heard it again but a bit closer. You turned around to see a zombie, well, 10. You panicked making you fall off the rock and scoot back grabbing your wooden sword held by your belt. You finally focused on the situation and stood up holding the sword with both your shaky hands trying to keep it in hand.

“Stay back!” You said as you then heard another sound. Quickly turning around you saw more mobs come after you. You were corned with your sword, all you could do was fight. There was no way out, you were trapped. “Help!” You screamed hoping someone could hear your cries as you tried to fight each mob off alone in the cave.

Phils pov

I had to go deliver something to tubbo for tommy that day. I was pissed since it was raining but my wings are pretty hard to ruin so it wasn’t that bad but still annoying. “Help!” As i was walking i Heard a cry somewhere near. I stood still to try and figure out where the sound came from, “help someone!” I followed the voice as it began to go closer and closer. That’s when I saw someone in a cave cornered. “Help!” I noticed they had a wooden sword nearly snapped.

With instinct I grabbed my diamond sword and started slaying the mobs. The person fell to there knees as I finished each one off. Once that was finally over they were in tears trying to wipe them off as I noticed there broken sword. I immediately kneeled down and moved there hair out of there face. “Hey it’s ok now, I’m here” I jumped back a bit as they went into my arms immediately hugging me tightly. “Do you have a home?” I felt there head shake signaling a no, “would you like to stay with me?” I felt there nod as I wrapped my wings around them and made my way out the cave back into the rain.

“It’s ok, I got you kid”

#dsmp imagine #dsmp x reader #dsmp #dsmp scenario #mcyt imagine #mcyt #mcyt x reader #scenario #philza #philza x reader #philza x y/n

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thezombieprostitute · 3 months

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For the character asks! Hummingbird!Steve + Best places to kiss on their body 🤭

Ask is based on this post.

+++

Along his jugular. Steve has lived a very dangerous life so touches around his neck get immediate reactions. He even has to tie his own ties, and even his tailor has to let Steve measure his own neck. No one else can do it because he can't let anyone so close to such a vulnerable spot.

So when Hummingbird lays a gentle kiss there it activates his nervous system. A kiss along his neck is such a foreign feeling to him but it provokes an immediate response and heightens his adrenaline. It takes some time but he starts associating her kiss on his neck with safety. They've learned that the best way for her to tell him he's safe, he's okay, he's home, is to kiss his neck, near the jugular.

#zombie asks #mob boss!steve rogers #hummingbird storyline

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everthewip · 9 months

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i said i want to pick a new WIP to focus on for a bit and I meant it, but indecisive as I am, I'm gonna need some help. So I'm making a poll. I don't have room to describe each snippet in the poll so im just numbering them and you can read the snippets below the cut

please don't feel obligated, but if you'd like to read and vote to help me out, i would much appreciate it!

These snippets will be very short because I don't want to make this lengthier than it needs to be, but if you'd rather read more let me know and I'll post more.

1. Music echoed from the city center as she guided me away from the crowds. I did not recognize the street she took. Electricity was in short supply and the magic had been focused on the festival, so the street lanterns were dark and cold. There is a reason folk go missing at this time of year; a reason these poorer districts see a rise in theft and murder every festival. Danger always lurked in shadows, but she moved through the darkness like a wraith; swift, silent, and sure of every step. Her hand squeezed mine as if she feared losing me, a silent challenge to the night – I dare you to steal her from me. My fingers were growing numb. My head was heavy from the festival drinks, my thoughts twisted by incense that wafted from the tents of fortune tellers and witches...

Autumn leaves had covered the forest floor, keeping a soft cushion beneath the bare soles of her feet. It was a comfort she did not expect to last. Too soon the trees began to grow sparse, the blanket of leaves giving way to cold dirt and pebbles. Along the border of the woods was a rocky hillside that stretched wide in both directions. Rather than attempt to find a way around, she gritted her teeth and began the ascent over it. Tough as her feet were they could not withstand the sharp edges of the rocks. Blood warmed the cold stone as they cut into her, but she did not stop or give in to the pain. The sooner she passed over the rocky terrain the better. On the other side lay a valley, surrounded on all edges by the forest. Tall, yellowed grass swayed in the afternoon wind as mountain peaks loomed to the near east. On the northern end of the valley rose a writhing snake of smoke, its source a low-burning campfire. A wagon was stationed near it, along with three figures sitting around the flames. Two horses grazed nearby. There was a scent in the air, of burning wood and fried meat. For a while she stood there, letting the blood of her feet seep into the grass, watching the distant figures. Her tongue watered at the scents, stirring the hunger rooted so deeply in her belly - in her bones.

3. They had been dead for three days, of this I am certain. The last threads of their lives still linger; as thin and fragile as the first string in a spiders trap, or the broken wisps of a long abandoned cobweb. I must brush these threads aside to view the bodies more closely, but they stick and cling to my fingers and hair. “Go on,” I urge, only somewhat agitated. “There's no point in staying now.” But they do stay, always; they never listen. I cannot blame them. There are dark things in the shadows, hiding in the crevices of life and death - waiting for the stray thread of a soul to drift onto their tongues, pinned between their teeth. The forest is hushed here and the trees stir without wind, disturbed by the bulk of unseen forms; stalking, waiting. Three days. My stomach turns to think these last few threads are all that remain, to imagine the rest have already been devoured. Perhaps I will let them cling to me after all.

4. The hummingbirds would go no further. Tyah studied the dark pass ahead, where low branches and thorny shrubs curved inward to form a tunnel. The trees were massive this deep within the ancient forest and little sunlight could pierce the near impenetrable canopy high above. No light at all seemed capable of illuminating the tunnel. The young scout could not blame the hummingbirds for pausing here, where scattered ribbons of thin light could still caress the forest floor. “We'll continue on foot,” Rysen stated as he dismounted. “And keep your wings down, lest they snag on the brambles.” Tyah shuddered at the thought and did as ordered, resting her wings against her back before she dismounted, stumbling a little on her landing. A quick glance toward Rysen proved he hadn't noticed, his focus set on the dark tunnel ahead. She exhaled a relieved sigh and adjusted her belted quiver. ... “What will we do if they refuse to help us?” Even in a whisper, her question seemed too loud, bouncing off the darkness as if it were solid. “We will leave, as swiftly as we can, and hope the horrors of the Darkbrier are no more than children's tales.”

#writeblr #wips poll

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vicious-seamonkey · 1 year

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#kiss my ass #zombie apocalypse #albuquerque #hummingbird #sunset

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rotting-ink · 9 months

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The Magic System

Magic is well documented but not widespread. Only a few creatures have been able to wield it up til now. These days there are a few academies dedicated to learning more about it, and willing to teach anyone with a natural gift for it. Those gifted are sparse, but more and more appear every day.

Magic is deeply versatile and most magic beings can wield it. So what types of magic is there?

Blood Magic/ Sanguimancy

Not the most beloved form of magic, but powerful nonetheless. There are those who use their own blood (or someone else's) to engage in the art of Blood Manipulation. As Magic is stored in the blood, this is hardly new, but due to the fact that magic-infused blood is highly reactive, not many wish to spill theirs.

Bloodmancy is usually used to improve one's own physical form, such as extend their life expectancy, improve physical prowess, or even gain more powers. The truly skilled are able to shape blood, form it into weapons or armor. They can even influence other people's blood, to boil, to freeze, or to harden.

However, the moment that Sanguimancy is performed on someone other than yourself, that's when the Witch Hunters are summonded.

Dark/ Shadow Magic

A magic shared by demons and creatures of the dark, it is the most feared form of magic.

Gifted to Witches by Demons looking for a contract, this magic is connected to shadows, darkness and voids. What is unique about this type of magic, is that it is perfectly catered to the wielder. Demons find the desperate and offer them a contract, to gain access to a wide array of powers, tinged with the other types of magic, in return for a way to be by their Witches' side in the above world.

Usually perfect for those who wish for trickery and stealth, the wielder is forced into using it, as they will become closely scrutinised, and usually... Hunted.

Your own familiar, Seir, has gifted you with these powers, and you haven't slept well since.

Elemental Magic

The most basic form of magic for Witches to wield, this craft has the wielder control the elements. Earth, fire, water, air. The basics are just shifting dirt, producing a small flame, making water divert from its course, a small gust of wind. Masters usually focus on one element and thrive in their craft, able to form structures, produce a wall of flames, create a waterfall from nothing, and levitate.

Grey/ Life and Death Magic

Those who use Grey Magic are closely monitored at all times. They are able to wield the energy of life and death, to heal and to damage as they wish. It is often called the cousin of Blood Magic due to this.

A lot of the death magic involved with grey magic is prohibited and needs a letter from the council at the academy or the government to be allowed to perform it. Since the incident of 1467, in which a Grey Witch raised an entire battalion of zombies, there has been a great amount of public paranoia regarding the magic type. Therefore, the Witch Hunters were formed to investigate and kill most witches they found. Now, in order to perform necromancy, you must ask permission for any creature bigger than a hummingbird.

Light

A simplistic form of magic, most often looked down upon. Light Witches are able to create illusions, as tricks of the light, and are able to twist perceptions of those around them. Wielders of this are able to trick crowds of people, but it's extremely hard to get to this level of mastery.

Nature

Nature magic is the most ancient of all. It has a long history of being wielded by Druids and those connected to the Earth. These wielders are able to urge plants to thrive, for seeds to bloom, to control flora to the extent of shaping them to the user's preference. Masters of this magic are even able to communicate with Fauna, and therefore, most have an animal companion to accompany them through life.

#the rot of witchwood #Seir's guide #magic guide #lore

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its-my-whump · 8 months

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Whumptober 30

No. 30: “It’s okay, just to say, ‘I’m not okay’.”

Bridal Carry | “Not much longer...”

Hummingbird 30

It's really only getting much darker now. Please watch yourselves. There is and will be emotional whump, despair, self-doubt, self-inflicted wounds, suicide attempt and gore.

Story starts here / previous

...

The externally inflicted stupor of drugs lasted another day. Apparently Sam was sobbing and pleading enough between unnerving nightmeres and restless foggy hours floating inbetween, to convince Grey-Monty to take him off the medication.

Sam was like a ghost. It wasn't much of a difference from his drug-induced-zombie-like state from the time before. He was numb, not from intoxication this time, but from some part of him just missing, never to come back.

Grey escorted him from here to there like an invalid. Sam didn't touch his food or did hardly anything else than lay or sit in bed and stare into nothingness.

His mind was hazy from lack of emotion, but he was kind of able to think a bit for himself. At least it felt like it, in comparision to the chemicals blocking every spark of his own free will. Despite his escort to untouched meals Grey didn't pay too much attention what Sam was actually doing, beyond trying to do anything more than stay in bed. It wasn't that he wasn't concerned or didn't care, but he had the feeling, that the kid needed a bit to swallow the shock of his revelation and get back his bearings. Despite his better judgement, he left him some space and didn't motherhen him, like he inwardly wanted to.

So Grey didn't recognise Sam taking the filetknife from the kitchendrawer. The kitchen was usually off limits, even if Grey didn't believe Sam was still capable of attacking him. Apparently not after being drugged out of his mind all the time. But nevertheless Sam managed his way in, taking that knife, while drawing Grey's attention by overexaggered confusion and another mental breakdown.

The former pedriatrist tried to get through to his broken toy, using platitudes like. "It’s okay, just to say, ‘I’m not okay’." But what did he know. Sam wasn't talking anymore. He was about to go down the deep end. He had no desire to fight or flee, not in a physical way anyway.

Or maybe, he had. A specific statement replayed itself in his empty head now and again. The result of his coming actions would bring him freedom, hopefully. In one way or the other.

'By heart surgery and blood transfusion I have to pass.' Grey had admitted. 'Good!'

So he would be brought to a real hospital and get a chance to be saved or he would just die here. Either way he would be free from this psycho, this living nightmere, this life and of all, himself.

The knife was sharp. He picked this particular one for its sharpness. Sam was still afraid of the estimated pain, consciously cutting through layers of skin and flesh at his thin wrists, would inflict. The knife had to be sharp, so he wouldn't stop, what he was about to do. This was the only way.

Sam was sitting in "his" bed, preparing himself to do, what he felt to be his only possible escape. But he doubted, that he was actually able to really reach a point, where he could feel any kind of prepared for this.

Cool metal touched warm skin.

Hesitantly, he pushed. Nothing happened. Suddenly a red line was drawn just under the sharp edge of the blade. He pushed harder, the line go thicker.

Then the pain came. Blunt, strong, breathtaking. He pulled the knife upwards, still pushing the blade inside his flesh, feeling hot sticky liquid traveling down his forearm, curling around his wrist, seeping through his fingers, while he cut himself open. The pain developed into something sharp directly under the metal penetrating his skin. Where the vene was finally layed bare, it started to throb in the rhythym of his heartbeat.

In the middle of his left forearm Sam removed the knife. Mesmerised he watched his liveforce leaving him. He hadn't thought it would happen so fast. His breath hitched, he was breathing too hectically. He was cold already. The distinct paleness of his right hand still holding the knife in comparision to the red crimson running down his left, was fazinating.

He wanted to exchange his hands, but the knife just trembled from his weak slippery left, the bandaged palm still injured. It fell into the already formed stain of his blood on the sheeting. 'Damn, he should have thought about that earlier.' He was not a lefty and with his hand already cut, he should have started with his other arm.

But by the amount of blood freely pumped out of him with every beat of his heart, it would probably be enough.

His breath came in pfuffs, he tried to calm down. It was in vain.

A headache settled in. Sam could feel his heart actually beating inside his neck and in his opened venes of his arm. It felt so warm, while a chill settled itself inside the rest of his body.

He felt tired all of a sudden and layed back. His left leg was sticky, the fabrik of his shirt was soaked fast, sticking to the small of his back.

His eyes went to the window above and he looked at passing clouds upside down. It was soothing to watch the world go by. It would still be turning, when he had stopped breathing. Maybe that was his biggest problem. The world always kept on turning, no matter what happened to him. That was the damn issue, him never being able to keep up (afterwards). He had tried a shortcut, the time with Peter. But something else happened and he was still paddling on the same spot, while everybody else moved on. There are no shortcut to foul destany or yourself.

But maybe, that was kind of a reassuring thought. His death wouldn't so much as even make a dent in the course of this world.

Sam felt clammy and cold. His breathing had conciderably slowed down. He wanted to move his left hand, it felt so thick and numb, but his fingers wouldn't obay his command anymore.

'Not much longer.' He whispered to himself, but it was only a silent plea for it to be over soon. His pale lips wouldn't part anymore. His body felt heavy. This all consuming heaviness, he had felt so often since being here. Yet his mind felt light, the lingering certainty, that he finally would be free of his burdon, he called his life.

His eyes blinked tiredly, refusing to close for good. But he wasn't fighting anymore.

He was just done fighting.

Inwardly Sam never believed his own additional explanation of being brought to a hospital and flee. He kind of knew, it would end this way. He kind of knew, it was supposed to be this way.

A last glimpse through a break in the clouds. Clear blue sky. One last blink and his eyes finally closed. This was a good day to die.

Only very shallow, but Sam was still breathing, when Grey pressed his slack form into a bridal carry against his own chest and made long brisk steps into the ER.

TBC

Hummingbird masterlist

@whumptober-archive

#whumptober2023 #no.30 #not much longer #bridal carry #oc #hummingbird #whump #writing #whump writing #whumptober 2023

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augment-techs · 6 months

Text

Literary Witches: A Celebration of Magical Women Writers

As Writing Prompts~

wife, sister, virgin, whore

an incantation, a naming, a blessing, a curse

weavers, potters, cooks, and healers

flip to any page; follow your wyrd

conjurer of hurricanes, zombies, and tall tales

with each story, the basket gains an apple

alchymist of monsters, children, the living and the dead

a terrible baby, their very arrival a murder

even the freshest thing is mixed with rot

a painful tale about the creation of life and what happens to shunned, abandoned children

shaman of dew, hummingbirds, and mushroom language

could not read or write and lived in poverty on the mountains

healer and oral poet

hermit of hospitals, belonging, and lost souls

"You think you're the only one who doesn't belong?"

at least some creatures can find a home

receiving two hundred electroshock treatments and narrowly escaping a lobotomy

grand dame of trickery, murder, and teatime

"Most unpleasant."

a consolatory apricot biscuit

sibyl of masks, extraterrestrial eggs, and twisted fantasies

smashes the crystal ball on the ground

what remains--glass shards and a black, sticky substance

the room is clean and the crystal ball intact

madame of roses, geometry, and repetition

grow feathers, slink into worms, shrink into dragonflies--anything to get out

undine of introspection, opulent dreams, and voyages

some collect seashells, others chart the sun's movement

some keep house, make lace, pursue lovers

dakini of holy ecstasy, the dark one, and ankle bells

poison becomes ashamed

miraculously escaped their poisoning attempts twice

fantasma of silence, death, and lilacs

a bird of blue bones drops a piece of paper

the paper unfolds into a palace

step in through the door

the music hollows

cursed to hear it forever

give in, eat the bird whole

storyteller of rattlesnakes, turquoise, and the sacred desert

the drought has gone on too long

spider's silk holding all things together shines with the light

high priestess of scholars, volcanoes, and eros

a grim jewel of astronomical price

fondles their muscles over coffee and toast

sorceress of islands, venom, and histories

the soup boils down to a thick black sludge

soothsayer of utopias, creeping women, and evil wallpaper

the unseen fairy

the people must realize the changes for themselves

the disastrous, sexist "rest cure" prescribed for postpartum depression

sorceress of names, houses, and solitude

sometimes the mango is perfectly juicy, sometimes underripe, sometimes too sweet, or bruised

cigar in hand, walk into the jacaranda trees, hanging black bras off the branches

'Use this to climb out,' read the notes tied on with ribbon

guardian of the waters, the porcelain, and the lexicon

they love these puddles

they will not survive this one

wolf child fight their way to the bank of the river; they survive

after a lifelong struggle with mental illness

fairy godparent of bloody tales, the circus, and mirror

"Not another one."

doll in a red riding habit

and a bleeding wolf escapes from under the cloth

dark drops of blood sink into the soil and the roses bloom a deeper, more delicious red

sumptuous tapestries depicting sexual, violent scenes

ornamented with symbols and adjectives

warrior witch of otherness, bodies electric, and sisterhood

the sword is for slaying ghosts and demons along the way

lava filling their wounds

the coroner writes

populated with mothers, children, sisters, anger, cancer, the erotic, unicorns, snails eating dead snakes, witches, fire, and the importance of refusing silence

specter of windows, flies, and the unexpected

travels freely between the afterworld and this world

a white dress kneeling in the flowerbeds

rebel of sensual love, green gardens, and perfume

they never speak of it, but each man is haunted by his vision

withered leaves, wilted geraniums and lilacs

write explicitly about sexuality

siren of the lyre, honey, and ruins

the rest of the words are illegible

how seriously each child puts those wings on in the mirror

seer of peacocks, weird country people, and glass eyes

pray to see humanity clearly

the doors creak open

cosmic traveler of crows, horses, and survival

joy lies down in a field

the music is a spell

courageously survived an oppressive childhood, teenage pregnancy, and domestic abuse

koldunya of winter, endurance, and willows

the sodden papers become bandages for the wounded

rations of potatoes, cabbage, and milk

queen of miracles, generations, and memory

fury of motherhood, marriage, and the moon

dismembers mannequins with ferocious, precise claws

terrified into the thrill of living

enchantress of bitter love, treachery, and jewels

summons a moonbeam into a locked room

climb down to find an underground chamber

"I am the ruler of this prison."

locked up in the bedroom for six months

witch of villages, domestic horrors, and omens

rabid cats, poisoned beetles, blood-tipped needles

the ice cream section of the twenty-four-hour grocery store at three a.m.

doesn't need help finding anything

marries the ordinary with the supernatural

sower of strange seeds, species, and the future

mutating with violent need for food, power, and sex

covertly tosses seeds kept in pockets into the neighbors' yards

watcher of the moors, fantasy, and cruel romance

brushed the carpets and took walks in the hills

death of tuberculosis at thirty

#literary witches: a celebration of magical women writers #source: Taisia Kitaiskaia #writing prompts #word prompts #sentence starters #theme prompts #GIMME

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