#I feel like my body is slowly decaying and I can do nothing but watch as the world slowly spins as everyone gets mad at each other over tim | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

vanilladove · 4 months

Text

~ get free (3/3)

pic creds luvpngs | gif creds akashi-tetsuki

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ pairing: asylum patient!nikolai x asylum attendant!fem!reader

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ genre: smut w/ plot + dark content; 18+ only pls!

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ content warnings: smut/nsfw, kidnapping, mentions of abuse + death, manipulation, violence, unhealthy relationships, infidelity (revenge hehe), slightly yandere!nikolai, dubious consent, husband yapping🤓

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ summary: you've been kidnapped by your patient and taken to meet "dos" and another member of the doa. you notice someone familiar and are forced to make a quick decision. will you free yourself or stay in another man's cage? ˚₊‧꒰ა read pt 1 & pt 2 ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ word count: 5.6k

Your head was pounding and your eyelids felt heavy, along with the intense soreness coursing through your body, especially on the left side of your waist. Trying to open your eyes through the blinding light, you could barely make out two figures in front of you--they looked like they were talking, so you tried to listen to the warped voices as much as you could with the remaining consciousness you could muster.

"Nikolai, I've meaning to ask you..." A deep, disinterested voice inquired. "What are you planning to do with that?"

"That? Don't be rude, Dos! This is Dove, I wrote to you about her in our letters, remember?" You could make out Nikolai's whines.

"Yes, but what use does she have for the Decay of Angels? If she's just another plaything, then she doesn't belong at the base. Besides, that woman is just another liability."

Nikolai sighed annoyedly, "She's my lover. I intend to keep her with me. I'm sure we can find a way for her to contribute later," he smirked, "I guess you wouldn't understand though...When's the last time you felt the touch of a woman, anyways?

You heard Dos scoff loudly at Nikolai's remark, "Fine, do what you like with her. Also, Sigma and I have finished getting information out of the target, so he's ready for disposal in the basement. He was a real pain to deal with."

Nikolai giggled at that, joking more with Dos. The exhaustion was taking over you again, though, so you couldn't keep yourself awake to glean anymore information from their conversation.

You heard the two men's voices fade out into the background as sleep overtook you once again.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

When you finally woke up, it was dim. You winced as you got up and took in your surroundings: the silk sheets you were under, a large bed, a spacious gothic-style room, cream curtains covering tall windows, and cuddled next to you...Nikolai?

You flinched lightly when you looked down to see his eyes staring directly into yours. He got up slowly and pulled you into his strong arms, moving the stray hairs--which had been mysteriously braided--out of your face and kissing your forehead lovingly. "How are you feeling, myla? Did some of the pain go away?"

You blushed as you felt his warm chest against you. He was shirtless, and all of the passionate hickeys you'd given him were exposed. Nikolai smirked cheekily when you stared at them for too long and watched your blush deepen when you realized you were wearing his white button up with nothing underneath. You looked so cute in the oversized shirt, so his.

Confusion coming back to you, you pulled away a bit, "Wait, Nikolai, where are we?" You frowned, last remembering being in the bath house, "The asylum...what happened?"

A sigh left his lips as he placed your head on his shoulder, "Well, after we had sex in the tub--by the way, you're pretty good at riding--" heat rose in your cheeks from his dirty comment, "back up was on their way and I didn't have enough time to explain things, so I needed to subdue you quickly for us to escape. That was why I had to use the tranquilizer on you. Sorry, you must've been shocked..." Nikolai stroked your hair softly, but you pulled back in bewilderment, staring into his softened eyes.

"Wait, why couldn't you just tell me that before? And how did you escape so fast? Where is this pl--" Nikolai cut you off suddenly, dramatically pressing a finger to your lips, "This is the Decay of Angel's temporary base...we're pretty far from the asylum and ran away like you wanted. I couldn't tell you anything because we needed to know if we could trust you." You tried to object at that, but your ex-patient only pushed his finger further to silence you. "And how we got here? Hmmm..." he paused to giggle manically, "Well, dove, that's a secret I can't tell yet...I'm a jester after all. I have tricks up my sleeve that I can't reveal to the audience--even to pretty girls like you~" You groaned as he replaced his finger with his lips and peppered kisses all over your flustered face.

He clearly wasn't telling you everything, but you didn't have any choice but to believe him. After all, you were still in one piece and out of the asylum, and he'd at least taken you to a nice place with silk sheets and roses. Nikolai wouldn't lie to you or harm you without a good reason, would he?

You pouted, "Fine, I believe you..." Nikolai grinned proudly and rolled off the bed. He stretched and threw you your black biker shorts and underwear that he'd pulled seemingly out of nowhere along with a loose white shirt that matched his uniform linen pants.

"Come on, pryntsesa, there's someone I want you to see."

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You shakily stepped forward as Nikolai led you deeper into what seemed to be a basement. The walls were covered in pale bricks and dimly lit lanterns--keeping up with the medieval theme of the overall base. In the barely illuminated darkness, you could make out what looked like a jail cell. You kept trying to peer at Nikolai to ask him where exactly you were going and who he was taking you to see, but he only stared ahead with the same proud smirk on his face.

Maybe he was taking you to meet Sigma? Or the other members of the Decay of Angels? You shivered thinking about the fact you really were in their base; Nikolai's files had included that he used to work with a terrorist organization and the various atrocities they'd committed. Now that you were with them, you wondered if that made you a hostage or co-conspirator. You briefly recalled Dos mentioning "the target" in the basement. Was that who you were going to see?

You were snapped out of your thoughts when you bumped into Nikolai's back, his soft braid tickling your nose. You muttered out a quiet apology as he flipped on a switch to brightly light up the jail cell you stood outside of. He turned slightly to face you and smiled gently at you as he brought you in front of him, putting his hands on your shoulders and making you blush. Some sudden cries grabbed your attention to what was in front of you, causing you to instinctively recoil at the familiar face staring back at you.

The boss of the asylum--your husband.

"Dear, is that you?" His raspy voice called out. Getting a full look at him, he looked worse than ever--sweaty disheveled hair clinging to his forehead; uniform tattered and stained with dirt, sweat, and what appeared to be ash; and a desperate, blown out expression on his face. You couldn't believe your eyes--Why was he here?

"T-that man kidnapped you, didn't he?" He got up from the floor and stepped closer in response to your silence, "L-look, I don't know w-what those terrorists told you, but that f-freak--" your husband shrieked, pointing at Nikolai but quickly bringing his finger down in fear, "--burned down the entire asylum and dragged us here. The new girls, the guards, they all got burned or severely injured." Your eyes widened as he started crying and wailing miserably, "A-and Lacey...sh-she's dead...what a brutal way to die...Oh God...Lacey--" The boss clutched his face as tears streamed down his face, mixing with the ash and further sullying his appearance.

Disgust and shock hit you, partly from the mess in front of you that was still reminiscing about the home wrecker he'd cheated on you with and partly because of the events you'd just learned--assuming your husband wasn't lying, Nikolai committing arson and presumably killing Lacey were details that he kept from you. You turned to face the jester, but he only kept his smile from earlier--eyes now devoid of warmth and stoically cold, gazing back into your dilated pupils before turning your head around back to the cell. You shuddered lightly: that was him confirming it was true.

Your husband's eyes twitched at your lack of reaction. He abruptly lunged towards the jail cell, clinging onto the cell bars and struggling against them to try to reach out to you. You screamed as his arm extended in your direction, and Nikolai stepped back to wrap his arms protectively around you, pulling you into his chest.

Your husband was banging against the bars, "Please! L-listen to me, darling!" You cringed at the fake nickname. "Forgive me for what I did in the past and save me--I'm sure h-help's coming. After this, I-I'll...buy you a new car and w-we can go on a nice vacation, start a f-family--start over, y'know?" He gave you a distraught smile, and you cringed at his pathetic display of promises. There was absolutely no way you could willingly go back to a man who'd abused and betrayed you.

Snot was now falling down his nose as he tried to fix his hair and steady his voice; he was practically yelling at you now. "Look, I'm sorry for cheating on you. Lacey was just too tempting...but I regret it, a-and now I know that I really love you." You weren't convinced, he was clearly just trying to save face. "S-shit!" He clanged against the bars again, knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping them, "I'm trying to apologize to you, dear. I love you--I'm wearing my ring for fuck's sake! C-can't you see that that freak's manipulating you?" He tried to make eye contact again with the white-haired man in front of him, but only cowered back in fright after meeting his intimidating gaze.

You could sense Nikolai glaring back as he tightened his grip around you. It made you frown seeing your husband trying to act like he knew everything about your relationship...Nikolai wasn't manipulating you; he loved you in the way your unfaithful husband never could.

"What are you talking about?" You asked sadly, completely shattering whatever pitiful resolve your husband had left. He gasped horribly and fell to his knees, realizing that you were too far gone, too in love with Gogol.

He stopped when he looked up and noticed your bare neck. "Your ring...why isn't your necklace on?" You traced around the empty space, feeling how light it was now that it was gone. Nikolai smirked in response.

"I--"

"She doesn't need it anymore." Nikolai replied darkly, cutting you off. He laughed a bit, the expression not quite reaching his eyes. He turned to you, startling you a bit. "Actually, you threw it away yourself, didn't you, dove? 'Cause you don't love him anymore." You nodded affirmatively, exasperating your husband even more as he resumed his sobs. Nikolai only curled his lip up coyly at his reaction and brought one of hands down to stroke your inner thigh provocatively as another brought your chin up to kiss you passionately. Heat flowed throughout your body as you blushed deeply. You couldn't tell how much time passed as you felt dizzy after he slipped his tongue in. The anguished cries in the background were drowned out as Nikolai pulled away slowly, making you flustered from the string of saliva left behind.

He licked his lips satisfyingly and gave you a peck before whispering in your ear, "Go on, ptashka, tell him how you feel."

Flush still on your cheeks, you looked directly at your old partner, who was now shaking in agony, "He's right--he's not manipulating me, either. I'm not yours anymore, and I don't want our old life back. I--" Nikolai was still stroking your thigh and was dangerously close to your panties. "I--mmh--I'm in love with Kolya now, and I want to be with him." You missed the pink on Nikolai's face as you saw your husband practically collapse, banging on the ground as he bawled awfully.

"Y-you fucking slut! How could you betray me like this? A-nd your p-parents--w-what would they think about this?" You backed away from the cell, bothered by his yelling. You wished he would shut up already.

Your husband's rambling was stopped suddenly as the sound of a gun cocking reverberated off the brick walls. It was from Nikolai. He placed it in your hands while gazing into your eyes sincerely. "Dove, you've been trapped in this man's cage--stuck on a ride you want to get off, but you keep riding. I want you to decide...If you want to keep playing his game or live your own life."

Your eyes widened at that. This was your chance to change your life and free yourself from the burden of your old life. There was no more chasing rainbows and hoping for an end to them, no more waiting for an inconsiderate man to love you. There was no sure promise of a better life if you saved him and went back to him...

Shit, what the hell were you thinking about? Could you really kill someone by yourself so easily?

Brain an absolute conflicting mess, you felt like you had a war in your mind. You couldn't think clearly as your thoughts jumbled together, and the intensity of the cold metal was making you unsteady. Nikolai noticed and wrapped his warm hand around your shaky one, bringing it up to aim at your husband's head.

"Do you want him gone, myla?" He whispered into your ear, placing your finger over the trigger. "All you have to do is shoot, and it'll all be over." His soft whispers drowned out the sound of your husband begging for his life and backing away desperately in the background. Nikolai gave you the same warm smile as before and his usually dull right green eye was sparkling with emotion. In a strange way, it was comforting, reminding you that you weren't alone.

You didn't remember much after that, just feeling the gun go off and Nikolai's hand over yours, followed by a deafening silence. You winced as you felt something wet against the side of your skin and blood splattered across Nikolai's white clothes. You didn't dare look at your own shirt. Your heartbeat was so loud in your ears, and you swore you were about to explode. Nikolai was grinning and laughing maniacally, while you could barely register your own emotions. You slowly turned your head to peer into the cell, but Nikolai put his hand out to block your sight. It was probably for the better, anyways. The stillness already confirmed your husband was dead.

Instead, Nikolai put his hands around your face and crashed his lips onto yours possessively. You closed your eyes as he muttered sweet nothings in between kisses and wrapped your arms around his torso, collapsing as your body slowly gave out and the gun dropped to the floor.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Nikolai kissed your forehead gently again as he wrapped a warm towel around your shivering body. After leaving the murder scene, you'd taken a shower together. You guessed it was like 'washing away your crimes' and getting clean again. It was strange, despite how lovesick he was over you, he didn't touch you sexually at all while washing your body. You thanked him and mustered up a small smile as you turned away from towards the mirror.

"Are you still shaken up, myla?" From your--no, our--first kill?" You stared into your reflection and looked down, basically giving him your answer. "It's okay, it's human to feel guilt and remorse after a death...even a horrible monster like me still feels that way, too!" He beamed at you, giggling contagiously.

You pouted back at him, feeling a slight burden lifted off of you, "Don't call yourself that--you're my lover now..." You mumbled, blushing slightly. You could love each other openly now.

He smirked and hugged your waist, the fabric of his clean white button-up--unbuttoned and exposing his toned six pack--and black slacks pressing against your skin. He'd gotten ready while you were spacing out in front of the fogged-up mirror, but you couldn't help stopping to admire how handsome he was.

"Ahhhh, I almost forgot...I never told you why I fell in love with you in the first place, did I, dove? You looked up at him curiously and he kissed the tip of your nose, "It's because you reminded me of my past self. Unknowingly in a cage, slightly different from the rest--I still remember the pretty little smile you flashed me the day we met and how sweetly you treated me...kinda unprofessional by the way...flirting with a crazy man..." Nikolai slowly trailed his kisses over your jaw and down your neck, making you start to feel warm inside, "I wanted to free you from the control of the outside world...I could tell you already had the willingness to change and just needed a small push." You yelped as Nikolai bit down softly to mark your collarbone and dropped the towel from your body.

You instinctively tried to cover up your body, but Nikolai stopped your arms, placing them on the rim of the sink instead. His hands left your waist to fondle your tit, drawing circles around the hardened bud while his other hand crept down your stomach to slip over your slit. A familiar rose dusted your cheeks as he kissed your neck softly and a moan slipped out from you, "A-ahhh, K-Kolya..." He nudged your jaw up towards the mirror.

The fog had evaporated away, so you could now see your reflection. To see yourself in such a lewd, shameless state, completely naked while Nikolai was basically fully dressed was...you couldn't describe it. He tenderly kissed your skin again before grinning at the mirror and taking his hand off your chest to lift up your face.

"Look how cute you are, dove. You really love my touch, huh~?" He pulled his slick-covered fingers out from your thighs and licked them clean. Watching him do it through the mirror was an enticing sight: it made you want more. Nikolai wasn't oblivious to your slight panting and trembling either. "Watch clearly as I make love to you, pryntsesa." His fingers dipped back into your cunt, parting your folds as his middle finger slipped inside of you while his thumb played with your clit. His other hand resumed massaging your breasts as he licked down his trail of kisses. You couldn't help but mewl at his actions, getting wetter watching the sight in front of you.

It was strange, he was typically rough and forward, but he was unusually soft with you this time. You didn't have time to think about why as he inserted another finger and went at a slightly faster pace, making you start to rock your hips against his hand. You moaned as the sensation coursed through your lower half, fingers gripping the rim of the sink and ass arching into his back, making you blush when you brushed against his clothed bulge.

"Mmmm~Kolya...your fingers...they're--ahh--s'good--"

"Y-yeah? You like 'em, pretty girl?" He heaved into your ear. He wanted to be gentle with you today, but the sight of you in the mirror and the way you were moaning his name so angelically was making him more hot and bothered than he wanted to admit. "C-cum whenever you want, 'kay?" Nikolai pumped his fingers more intensely into you, needy to make you finish as you struggled against his hold, the pressure making you lose balance and lean forward. He sturdied you against his chest again and captured your lips to pull you into a deep kiss, your tongues wrapping around each other.

The coil in your stomach got tighter as his long fingers pressed against your sweet spot, and his pointer and thumb coming together to pinch your sensitive clit finally sent you over the edge. You cried out his name as you came all over his fingers, staining the front of his pants and shaking from the intensity of your orgasm. Nikolai gently kissed away your tears as you came down from your high, hugging your waist and caressing your sides.

You gasped as you heard him unzipping his damp slacks, and you looked in the mirror, your eyes traveling straight down to his hardened member. Nikolai started stroking his length slowly, pale pink tip sticky with pre-cum, as he lowly groaned your name. "S-sorry dove, I--fuck--wanted to play with you more, but I--ah--can't wait any longer..." Heat went straight to your core upon hearing that.

"I-it's fine, p-put it in..." You looked back at him sweetly before parting your folds with your pretty nails, and he grunted after seeing some of your arousal drip down your thighs.

"F-fuck, myla, you're so beautiful~" You hissed at the feeling of Nikolai teasing past your slit before entering you slowly. Even though he'd prepped you more than last time, you still whimpered lightly from the stretch, secretly making him smirk pridefully. He silenced your moans with another gentle kiss as he started thrusting inside of you, lewd sounds bouncing off the walls. Both of his hands went back to your tits to play with them again as he broke away from the kiss, groaning into your neck as he pushed deeper into your pussy. It wasn't enough for him, though.

He lifted your leg up slightly and bent it slightly at an angle before drilling his cock harder into your cunt, your hands pressing close to the mirror as your back arched, so he could go deeper inside you. Nikolai groaned and bit his lip as your walls clenched around his length. He soothed your pleasured cries by kissing down your back, pressing his abs against your hot skin. The foggy reflection of your tits bouncing up and down with his movements and the fucked-out expression on your face made him moan lowly, praising you for taking him so well.

You whined at the tight feeling in your core as your pussy sucked in his cock. The feeling was so good you were moving your hips back and forth to meet his thrusts, ass recoiling perfectly in response. Nikolai was still hyper-focused on leaving hickeys on your skin and squeezing your tender nipples, and his hot breath tickling your neck was driving you crazy. He groaned as you squeezed his length again, pre-cum starting to leave a creamy ring at the base of his cock.

"A-ahh~ I'm close--keep going, p-please--" You begged, desperate to cum and hoping he wouldn't edge you like last time. He smirked, pleased by how needy you were. He nodded, locking you in another messy kiss as his free hand traveled down to your hips. Nikolai pulled away from you slightly before re-entering you harshly, making you see stars.

You choked on your moans as you whimpered his name, pussy clenching around him even more. He was breathing heavily, and his thrusts were getting slower and messier, signaling that he was close, too. You got up slightly on your elbows and looked back at him affectionately, "I love you, Nikolai."

His eyes widened as he pulled your back against his chiseled stomach and buried his face into the crook of your neck, secretly blushing like crazy. His strong arms came back to wrap around your waist, making you yelp when you felt him all the way inside you. "L-love you, too, dove~" He rasped quietly as he came in your pretty cunt.

The warmth made you moan as you followed with your second orgasm, panting at the euphoric sensation. Only Nikolai could make you feel like this. He pulled out slowly and turned your fragile body around towards him, hugging you intimately and kissing your forehead softly. He tucked your damp hair behind your ear and kissed the spot again, "You did so good, myla." You hugged him back, nuzzling into his chest and blushing when you heard his frantic heartbeat.

"I'm so happy you're mine now..." He whispered quietly, kissing your head again before steadying you against the sink to wet a towel and clean himself off. Nikolai bent down a bit to wipe you down, and you impulsively ruffled his fluffy white hair, making him giggle and plant a small kiss on your inner thigh. You smiled adoringly.

So he has his soft moments, too, huh.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Your and Nikolai's hands were intertwined as he led you to a grand dining room. Apparently, you were supposed to have dinner and meet two other members of the Decay of Angels. You fidgeted nervously as you approached the grand dining table, which was decorated with gold candelabras and a cream cloth table runner. Despite the warm decorations, the room still had a slight eerie feel.

The two men seated at the end of the dining table looked up at you. Nikolai had given you some fresh clothes, lending you one of his oversized chunky cream sweaters and a silk midi skirt that he'd quickly sewn out of the sheets. From the occasion, you'd learned about his surprising little hobby. On the other hand, he kept on his white button-up--now loosely buttoned--and just changed into a different pair of black and white striped pants.

Nikolai placed his hand on your waist and beamed excitedly, "Sigma, Dos, meet Dove! She's my lover and is going to be staying with us from now on!" He pushed you forward a bit and you nervously bowed.

"N-nice to meet you both. Thanks for accepting me, and I hope we all get along." You cursed yourself mentally for not coming off as confident as you wanted, but you couldn't help but crack slightly under the two men's stares.

Dos, who was sitting at the head of the table merely sneered silently and continued glaring at you as you sat down next to Nikolai. The man sitting across from you offered you a bashful smile instead, "N-nice to meet you, too. I'm Sigma." You smiled back at him, secretly grateful that he was trying to cut the tension.

Nikolai clapped his hands, "Okay, we've gotten introductions out of the way! Let's eat now~" Your eyes drifted to the bowl of pelmeni soup and borodinsky bread in front of you. To be honest, you were starving but concerned since Dos hadn't touched his food at all and was still intently staring you down.

Sigma cleared his throat and spoke up again, "Y-you can eat the food. It isn't poisoned or anything. Ivan made it." Ivan? You didn't know who that was, but you nodded and thanked him quietly, trying a spoonful of the soup. You wished you could just scarf it down, but you decided to eat in a ladylike manner as to leave a good impression.

You weren't quite sure if you'd impressed Dos, though, who had finally introduced himself as Fyodor Dostoyevsky a few minutes later, resting his chin on his linked hands.

"Welcome. We're the Decay of Angels, a terrorist organization that commits murders and causes great fear and suffering--find a way to make yourself useful or you'll be disposed of--" He stared straight into your eyes, "--by me personally." Your heartbeat increased in fear and your hands went slightly clammy upon hearing that.

Nikolai put down his spoon, "Oi! Be a bit more gentle with her, will you?" Fyodor's gaze left you and he turned to Nikolai, "I know this is the first woman you've interacted with face-to-face in years, but you're already threatening her? Seriously? No wonder you're single..."

Fyodor's eyebrow twitched in response as Sigma turned away, obviously trying to stifle a laugh, and he and Nikolai glared daggers at each other. You hid your face in embarrassment as Fyodor scoffed annoyedly and dismissed himself from the table, taking his dinner with him. So much for getting along.

"God, he hates me now...he's probably going to murder me in my sleep..." You looked sadly at Nikolai, but he only grinned snidely.

"Don't worry about it, ptashka, Dos is just like that. Anyways, the mood's lightened up so much now that he's gone, right?" He giggled maniacally--unserious as always. Sigma chimed in as well, trying to cheer you up,

"Y-yeah! To be honest, I haven't spoken to him much, either, and I've been here for a while. He's just the serious, loner type." You weren't convinced fully, which he noticed. "I-I'm the general manager of the sky casino." You looked up and nodded, hearing about it before--a luxurious place for people to gamble away their fortunes and essentially be ungoverned and off-the-grid. "If you're not doing anything tomorrow, why don't you come and visit? I'll give you some money, on the house!" You perked up at that, taking up Sigma on his offer, much to his relief.

"I'll be going, too, just so you know." Nikolai butted in, making Sigma sigh and tell Nikolai he wasn't invited didn't have to come with. The two bickered back and forth, Nikolai being insistent on going to the casino with you two.

You giggled at that, they were just like real friends. Perhaps your stay here wouldn't be too bad--at least now one more person liked you. Sigma and Nikolai stopped arguing after hearing you laugh and looked at each other before smiling softly at you. You yelped as Nikolai jumped at you suddenly to attack your face with kisses, making Sigma cringe.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

You'd finished dinner with Nikolai and Sigma, successfully being cheered up from the previous tension. It wasn't too long-lived though, as Nikolai had asked you to get Fyodor's dirty dishes. You tried to object, but he'd simply just waved his hand at you while he resumed washing the dishes with Sigma.

Knocking on the door to Dos's room, you hesitantly cleared your throat and spoke, "Can I come in? I just need to get your dishes." You heard him shuffle around and click his tongue,

"The door's unlocked. Come in." You gulped before turning the knob and entering. The stone room was cold and barren, with the only 'decoration' being a table holding several different monitors and keyboards. The room was only lit by the screens, which were circling with code and all sorts of data. Fyodor didn't even try to acknowledge your presence or turn around, so you just tried to step around the various cords on the floor and grab his bowl in front of him.

He was reading a book in his chair and still didn't speak a word, but you could feel his glares cutting into the back of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. You grabbed the bowl and turned back around--again trying to avoid stepping on any cords--and your eyes curiously tried to see what book he was reading.

He rotated his chair briefly, "You know, being a housewife isn't--"

"Crime and Punishment?! Oh, I remember reading that book in the asylum's library. It's a great commentary on the transformative power of guilt and the possibility of redemption, isn't it?" You chirped, instantly regretting your impulsive input on the book. Why did you have to be such a bookworm?

Fyodor's eyes widened slightly as he closed his mouth, truly caught off-guard, "Yes, it is." He went back to his book as you shyly smiled and made your way through the cords, back finally turned away from him. He paused, "You can borrow it if you like. I can give it to you tomorrow after breakfast."

You stopped in your tracks, turning your head slightly. You were only met with the sight of his chair, though. "R-really? T-that would be nice, actually...Thank you." You trailed slowly towards the door before leaving. "G-goodnight!" Flustered, you closed the door quickly, missing him saying it back and the pale rose that was dusting his cheeks.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

Life with the Decay of Angels had been going surprisingly well. It had been two months since Nikolai had taken you to the base, and you'd adjusted in that time span.

You got close with Sigma, who admitted he was a bit intimidated and scared of you at first because you were Nikolai's lover, but he was relieved you weren't exactly like him. Fyodor had become more open and accepting of you, and you both mostly connected over the literature he would share with you. Nikolai tried to keep you away from him as much as possible, though he would never tell you why...

You had become a decoy of sorts and helped Nikolai on the ground with disguises and espionage. Currently, you were both infiltrating Mersault. You had learned that the true reason for Nikolai coming to the asylum was to get a hold of the space-creating ability that both Mersault and the asylum were built with. Fyodor was hoping to harness it to build a secret, impenetrable base for the Decay of Angels.

Criminal profiling and socialization skills from your previous attendant position had come in handy when going undercover, along with your "feminine charm" that none of the other members possessed. Of course, Nikolai was all too excited to have you working with him, never missing the chance for quickies or subtle flirting and teasing. You couldn't exactly say that you hated it, though...

Whenever you walked around in public, you would occasionally see a "missing" poster with your face and information on it. You would always discreetly rip up and toss them, though, having no desire to be found or go back to your old life.

After all, you'd finally crossed the threshold from the ordinary world to a new life with your true lover. You'd been freed, and you were never going back.

˚₊‧꒰ა bad ending໒꒱ ‧₊˚

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konigs-whore · 8 months

Text

You found me. ~Simon Riley fic~

[Warnings: Kidnap, language, mentions of assault, blood and gore}

-this is my first time writing a fic, so please bare with this lol.-

What if the cab driver suddenly turned in the wrong direction and told you he had his own plans for you? Simon had gone over these types of situations with me, but never once did i think it would be a reality. Fear takes hold of me as our eyes meet in the rearview mirror. Every muscle in my body trembles with trepidation as I unlock my cell phone and shift my gaze for a moment to check Simon's name on the messenger app. With one swift stroke, I send off a simple text; one that we had already formulated in case of such an emergency. ‘Falcon’.

I take a deep breath, some of my tension easing knowing that Simon had prepared me for this possibility; I open my eyes and reflect on all that he taught me. "Check the doors - they must have child locked them," I muse quietly. Tentatively, I reach out and try the door handle; it doesn't move, as I expected.

The driver sternly warned me, "Don't attempt to do anything foolish. It won't end well for you." I could feel my muscles tense up as I looked in his direction. My curiosity got the better of me and I asked, "Why are you doing this...who do you work for?" Suddenly I remembered Simon's words: 'Do whatever they tell you to do without asking any questions until I arrive'. A wave of apprehension emanated through me as I released a shaky sigh. All of a sudden the driver snatched my phone from behind his seat, stating gruffly, "I don't want you trying to call the authorities".

I press my lips together, gazing out the window as we approach the outer limits of the city. Squeezing my eyes shut in dread, I fervently wish that Simon will find me before it is too late.

After what felt like hours, we pulled up to a neglected cabin situated in the far depths of the woods. I tensed, my body curling into itself as the driver turned around brandishing a syringe. He spoke with warning in his voice, "Don't fight it, darling." He pushed himself into the backseats and before I could do anything more prickly pain shot through my neck. I gasped, touching my neck while staring at him wide-eyed. My throat tightened as I whispered, "W-Why?" As if magnetized by an invisible force, my eyes crossed and my eyelids gradually grew heavy.

When I stir, finally regaining consciousness, a thumping headache greets me. My attempt to move is foiled as I realise my arms and legs are bound to the chair. My vision adjusts slowly to the meager illumination of the room. An odour of decay and a nauseating metallic stench fill the air, provoking within me a deep desire to retch.

My gaze immediately flickers to the creaking metal door, and a man in a military uniform appears. His dark hair and the multitude of scarring showing on his face caught my attention, but what was most memorable was the twisted grin he wore as he spoke with a distinct Russian dialect. "Ah, you have awakened," He uttered, steadily walking closer. I remained expressionless and silent, watching him intently. i feel nothing but raw evil intent coming from him, and i have to force my body to remain still, to keep from shaking.

The man's glare fixed me in my place as he spoke, his tone edged with menace. "We can keep this simple and get you out of here if you tell me where Ghost is located and his name," he said. I stayed silent and received a punch to my cheek for it, pain radiating from the impact. Stifling a grunt, I shot him a challenging look and said, "I've met Girl Scouts who pack more of a punch than you."

He was clearly not pleased and he unleashed a series of angry punches to my face. I felt several of my teeth loosening and soon there were several of them lying on the floor along with the blood that I had coughed onto his face. My expression didn't waver but my eyes bore into his soul. "You're going to regret that," he snarled, and then an excruciating pain surged through my thigh. I clenched my teeth together tightly, trying hard not to make a sound. When I look down I noticed the blade of a knife sticking out from my leg.

He violently tears out the blade, and I can't contain my sharp inhale of pain. His lips pull up into an evil smirk as he presses his digits into the open wound, mercilessly causing excruciating torture. With a sinister laugh he relinquishes his grip, then forcefully grasps onto my swollen and bruised jaw to make sure that I don't avert my gaze from him as he interrogates me. "Where is he?" He barks through his clenched teeth in angry rancor. “ fuck you” i spit on his face. my bloody saliva running down his cheek. he raises his fist to strike me again, halting abruptly when loud shouting is heard, followed by gunshots. he shoves my head back with a growl of anger. he curses in his mother language, grabbing a fistful of my hair, yanking my head back with the knife at my throat. “what is his name”he orders, pressing the knife against the flesh on my neck. “hm, depends on what mood i'm in" i remark, earning myself a wound on my neck as he presses the knife into my skin. “ you fucking bitch” he yells. the shouting and gunfire in the distance grows louder, and he grows desparate. i smile at him, tauntingly. “what? thought i’d be an easy target?” i mock. he snarls at me. the metal door flys open, and he quickly hides behind me, continuing to hold the knife at my throat. i smile when i see the guest is Simon, my Simon. his rifle is aimed at the man behind me as he advances closer, his large form gives off a terrifying aura, like a predator stalking it’s pray. “release her” he orders, his British accent echoes throughout the room.

I watch as Soap, Price, and Gaz enter the room, their guns raised. I smile at them and greet, "Hi guys," as if it were a normal day. I see Soap shaking his head slightly—presumably in reaction to my greeting—as the man behind me yanks my head back until it hits the back of the chair, eliciting a whimper from me. The Russian threateningly slides the knife across my neck and demands that they lower their weapons or I will die. As I can no longer see the boys in front of me, I hear frantic shuffling and then, suddenly, a loud bang rings out. The grip on my hair releases, followed swiftly by the one holding the knife. A thud sounds behind me, leaving me with no doubt in my mind that he is dead.

With a slow lift of my head, I was met with Simon kneeling before me. The rope binding my limbs was quickly cut and a sigh escaped my lips as the adrenalin dissipated. "You found me," I whispered, collapsing into his arms. Then, Soap ran toward us with an exclamation of surprise. "Aye lass, you look like hell." I couldn't help but snort at his description as my gaze fell on the wound on my thigh. "Feels like it too," I mumbled. Gently, Simon scooped me up bridal style, while Soap wrapped a cloth around my thigh to stop the flow of blood. Smiling, I glanced at Simon and half jokingly said, "I dunno what you did to piss them off, but leave me out of it next time, yeah?" His voice gruff yet filled with worry, he shook his head with a grunt. "There better not be a next time," he sternly uttered, stress evident in the look he gave me as he searched my body. i reach up and gently grab the side of his mask, not taking it off, just simply resting my hand there. “i’m okay darling, nothing a good stitch wont fix”i say softly trying to ease his worry. he holds me tighter as everyone starts to leave the room. “receiving that text.. i lost my mind”he whispers in my ear. “i can imagine, i’m sorry for the fright. had i known that cab was a ploy, i might have rode my broom stick this morning instead” i say. Soap laughs loudly behind us, and Price chuckles with a shake of his head. Simon shakes his head, “stop yappin nonesne” he says grumpily, but i hear the faint amusment in his voice.

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sugolara · 1 year

Text

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙨𝙩𝙧𝙖𝙣𝙜𝙚 𝙩𝙤 𝙢𝙚

feat. shoto todoroki x fem! reader

cw: angst

˗ˏˋ+ ´ˎ- leaving y/n a series of voicemails, shoto doesn't know when to let you go.

❝all your empty words mean nothing.❞

+ empty words by bowery electric

katsuki's ver. || alt continuation: @constanciandrea

you have one new voicemail!

"i saw you today. for the first time since... then. i couldn't tear my eyes away from your body. you looked beautiful, like the first time i saw you. i wanted to hold you. hug you. kiss you. but i couldn't. you looked so at peace, laying in your coffin. were you at peace? i like to hope so. i miss you, y/n.

"i'm sorry i wasn't there to save you when you needed me. i'm sorry i was so late. i'm sorry i had to watch your body decay and explode. i'm sorry that you died to save a civilian and put yourself at risk. i'm sorry that we all had to watch your confused face as you slowly fell apart.

"do you think you can ever forgive me?"

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘

you have one new voicemail!

"there's this girl. she's new. she reminds me of you. she came from america to replace you. at least that's what i think. but, aizawa says that she's here because a pro hero had recommended her. i think it's their way of saying sorry for your lost classmate.

"my eyes can't help but linger at her. i catch myself looking at her when she's not staring. she looks a lot like you. but she has different hair. and her personality is the opposite of you. i don't like her.

"would you talk to me in my sleep tonight?"

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘

you have one new voicemail!

"i'm sorry i haven't called you. aizawa has been keeping us busy with training, and my father is keeping me busy. trying to make up for what he did, trying to make us a family after seeing touya dabi again.

"i know it's been two days, and i can hear your voice telling me it's not a bother, that it's okay. but it's not. i call you just to hear your voice again. i call you just so you can make my heart beat, make it jump in my chest. because i miss feeling it that way.

"do you miss that feeling as well?"

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘

you have one new voicemail!

"i snapped today. midoriya has talked to me after he found out that i'm still keeping contact with you. he says it's not healthy and that i should move on. but what does he know, he still has ururaka. he doesn't know anything.

"i let the words that fall out of bakugo's mouth fall out of mine. i shouldn't have told him those words. the class, and even aizawa, gave me a sympathy look. i hate that look. i hate that they look at me like i'm about to break at any moment.

"would you reassure me that it's okay to keep holding onto you?"

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘

you have one new voicemail!

"i don't know how many times i have to say i'm sorry, but, i'm sorry. it's been three days since i last talked to you. what makes me feel bad is, that i have no excuses.

"i guess... i'm slowly trying to let you go. but it's hard when all i can think about is you laying down next to me. laughing while you tell me stupid jokes that i don't get. i'm so hung up on you.

"do you get hung up on me to?"

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘

you have one new voicemail!

"they started taking down posters of you. but the hall is still filled with your name. everyone still talks about you. even bakugo. surprising, right? he said at your funeral, that you had so much potential. he was even afraid that you were gonna take the number one spot.

"it's funny, because if i had to look really hard, it was almost like he loved you. he stares at your desk sometimes even if he knows that the new girl sits there. i even caught him standing outside of your old dorm room.

"would you have loved him if you weren't with me?"

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘

you have one new voicemail!

"remember that new girl i mentioned, well as it turns out, she left me a note on my desk. no, it wasn't a love note if that's what you were thinking. i guess she saw the eyebags underneath my eyes and my messy hair. she asked me if i was okay.

"i couldn't ignore her. she sounded so much like you. and her eyes. her eyes looked like yours. she stared at me the same way you looked at me. there was a faint thump in my chest as she talked and smiled at me.

"do you think it's okay if i talk to someone else that isn't you?"

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘

you have one new voicemail!

"i know, i bet you can hear me sighing. it's been, two, or three weeks since i last called you. my heart aches as i think about it longer. but, if you wanted to know, everything is going back to normal. your name no longer lingers in the hallways.

"i think the class is started to forget about you. everyone... seems so cheerful. i think they moved on, accepting your death. but i'm scared. i don't want to forget about you. but the longer i talk to the new girl, i start to... forget.

"if you're wondering why i haven't called, it's because i've been hanging out with the group again, even the new girl. i found out that she has the same style that you do. she dresses like you do. she does everything the exact same way you do.

"would you think i'm unfaithful if i said i'm feeling things?"

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ '

you have one new voicemail!

"she called me cute today. i felt my cheeks getting hot, i thought i had activated my quirk, but i didn't. it was cold today, and she forgot her sweater so i let her borrow mine. i liked how she snuggled up towards it, and smiled at me.

"y/n... i think i'm started to move one. and it pains me to say this, but, i think i am in love again. she makes me feel the same things you make me feel. she's beautiful. and if you were here, i'm sure you two would have gotten along.

"she never talks about you though. i assume she knows what happened and decides not to talk about you in order not to trigger me or anyone. i like it though. that she doesn't talk about you.

"do you still love me?"

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘

you have one new voicemail!

"hopefully, for the last time, i'm sorry. another week had gone by and i haven't talked to you. but, i took the new girl on a date. she told me that she liked me, and i... i kissed her. the whole class found out that we were dating. they were proud. i think proud that i had moved on.

''except, for bakugo. he snapped at me when he found out i had moved on. i thought it was because he was jealous of me or something, but no. he called me out, told me that i hadn't moved on. because if i did, then i wouldn't be here standing on your grave giving you these meaningless voicemails.

"and that i only dated the new girl because she looks like you. i think he's the only one who hasn't moved on. the class could tell. i had overhead kirishima telling him to stop calling you. to stop giving you your favorite flowers on your headstone. to stop looking at your photos. to stop looking at the confession he made that he was planning on giving you.

"to be honest, it didn't make me mad that he loved you. i think it ate him up more that it did to me. every time someone mentions you his head whips around, as if trying to look for you. he's still not over you."

"would you have accepted his confession?"

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘

you have one new voicemail!

"i saw your family the other day while i was walking the new girl home. i saw a sign that said 'rent' on your front yard. your house looks empty. they saw me, they smiled and wave as they got in their cars. and drove off, never returning.

"i hoped they moved on."

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘

you have one new voicemail!

"do you think you can ever forgive me? would you talk to me in my sleep tonight? do you miss that feeling as well? would you reassure me that it's okay to keep holding onto you? do you get hung up on me to? would you have loved him if you weren't with me? do you think it's okay if i talked to someone else that isn't you? would you think im unfaithful if i said i'm feeling things? do you still love?

"would you have accepted his confession?"

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘

you have one new voicemail!

"hey, i know. it's been two weeks. but i'm not calling to tell you about my day. as a matter of fact, i called you becasue, i have moved on. i'm letting you go and i hope you can let me go. i found love in you and i will always cherish that.

"i will always love you no matter what. but i no longer need to keep you here. i found love somewhere else. but no matter where you are, i hope that i get to see you someday and hold you one last time.

i love you, y/n. no matter where you are."

⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘ *⋆·˚ ༘

i'm sorry, but the number you have dialed is no longer in service. please dial back again to make sure you have entered the right number. goodbye.

#shoto angst #shoto x y/n #shoto x you #shoto todoroki #mha shouto x reader #todoroki shouto #todoroki x reader #todoroki shōto #mha #mha bakugou #mha shoto #x reader #bnha shoto x reader #shoto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto todoroki x reader #bnha shoto todoroki #words are strange to me

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springtraps-angel · 5 months

Text

Meeting him pt3

(ongoing story about meeting springtrap)

tw: suggestive, body horror

First part here.

.☆。• *₊°。 ✮°。૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა ♡.☆。• *₊°。 ✮°。

I watched him for a bit as I did some catching up around the house. He had sat himself at my desk with a notebook and pen and worked while I tried to quietly get some stuff done without grabbing his attention. The couple of times I was brave enough to pass behind him to get something from the kitchen I glanced over his shoulder, but I couldn’t understand anything in the quick glimpse I got. All I saw were messy scribbles of writing, diagrams, and math calculations. After 11 I took a shower and went back into the living room, he was still by the kitchen, writing. Maybe it was because I was tired and feeling a little fuzzy from the day’s events, but I finally gathered enough courage to stand behind him and take a good look.

“What do you want?” he grumbled without turning around.

“Um.” I didn’t have a good explanation. “I was just curious. What are you working on?”

“Continuing my work from when I was alive. And,” He took a deep breath, it sounded like wind going through a pipe with holes and rattles in it, “fixing some of my decay. I’ll need you to get supplies for me tomorrow.”

“Like, out? Couldn’t we just order them online?”

“What?”

“Wait.” I moved around to his side more. “Um.” I tried to remember when the internet got big and counted back from 30. No, it wasn’t mainstream until the 90’s right? Did he not actually know about it? “Maybe it’d be simpler to show you.”

I grabbed my laptop from my room and sat it in front of him. Shimmying closer to his side, I could feel my heartbeat start to speed up again. I tried to tell myself to be reasonable, but I watched my hand tremble when I opened the screen and booted everything up. He was quiet as I gave him an odd walkthrough of the internet. I went to Google, a couple news sites, Youtube, and finally Amazon. He was silent through the entire thing, taking it in. I half wondered if I shouldn’t have mentioned anything, since my credit card info was all in there and he could buy anything he wanted. When I was done, I stepped back and watched as he took the mouse and clicked through a few more pages of results.

“Interesting. I’m impressed.”

“That’s all you have to say about the entire internet?” I chuckled a little. Then seriously, “Don’t, um, don’t buy too much, ok? I have rent coming out soon.”

He stood up then, the chair under him sighing from the release of weight. “I could pay you back tenfold. I could buy this entire crappy apartment complex you’re in. That’s if my no-good son didn’t steal it all from me when I got locked in that damn room!”

“Son? You have a son?”

He slammed a fist on the desk suddenly, causing me to jump back into the counter.

“Now that I think about it,” he smiled devilishly, “with this, I don’t believe I need you anymore.”

Without thinking, I turned and grabbed a kitchen knife from the counter, brandishing it between us. But he barked a laugh, and I realized how ridiculous what I did was. He knew I was nothing to him in terms of sheer strength. And his next movements were slow, almost to ensure I knew how defenseless I was. He stepped toward me and slowly wrapped one metal palm around my hand holding the knife, completely covering it.

“Here”, he said roughly, “let me help.” He then guided the long knife between a crack in the suit, plunging it in himself.

I gasped as it went in, full to the hilt. Glancing up, my face must have been a mask of horror because his was immensely entertained looking.

“You think you can hurt me?” he asked. “All I know is pain.” He let out a broken laugh and laggardly moved my hand back out. Then before the blade was all the way free, lazily pushed it back in. I tried to release my grip, but he squeezed harder when he felt my hand move. He repeated the same motion. In a slow, gradual pace he moved the blade in and out.

Repeating the movement, he bent down to my ear. “That’s it,” he whispered, and I could hear my own breathing coming too fast, my face too hot. The room seemed to sway under my feet. His other hand wrapped itself around my waist and he moved back a bit to see my face, “Hm, now that’s interesting.” he said lowly. He let go all at once, the blade dropped with a clatter to the floor, and he stood back up to his full height.

Was he messing with me? His eyes were wide and I knew in the harsh kitchen lights he could see my red face and blown out pupils.

“Go to bed little bird,” he said calmly. Then, like nothing happened he turned, sat, and continued working.

---

pt 4

#William afton #springtrap #william afton x reader #william afton x you #springtrap x reader #springtrap x you #suggestive #writing #my writing #mine

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sada-siva-sanyaasi · 1 year

Text

jagadeka veerudu athiloka sundari - part thirteen

masterlist

---

Aarya’s hands shook as Rudra stared at her, his unfocused eyes shifting between her and Bhalla’s grip on the sword tightened as Rudra’s focus fell on him. “But to make you mine,” Rudra hissed, pointing his hand at Bhalla, “he needs to die. And that honour shall be mine.”

Rudra staggered towards them and Bhalla stilled, feeling Aarya’s palm on his sword. She slid it out of his hand and stepped forward, pushing the tip of the sword into Rudra’s chest, stopping him. Rudra’s assault froze mid-air, looking down at the sword barely hurting him as Aarya stared at him. “You’re not you, Rudra. Let me take you to guruji, he will-” “I believe it’s too late for that, Aarya. You’re coming with me, like it or not.” Soldiers filled the ground but stopped when Bhalla raised his hand, waiting. Aarya’s face hardened as she twisted the sword into his heart, pulling it out and feeling the blood splatter all over her face. Rudra fell back, hand on the gaping hole in his chest, and he looked up to watch her throw the sword away.

“That wound will send you back to where you came from. Our magic has been cursed because you returned from the dead, Rudra. The least you can do is tell me how you came back.”

Blood spluttered from Rudra’s mouth as he crumpled to the ground, vision blurry and body decaying. Wordlessly, he continued to stare at her as his life slowly left him, yet again. “I've done nothing other than love you, even in my death. And I’ll do so again, Your Majesty.”

Everyone backed off as the black akandas fell down around him, turning to ash as he died. “What happened?” Bijjaladeva’s voice rang out as he stormed over, staggering back the moment he saw the dead body. Aarya bent down, collecting the ash of the stones as Bhalla looked around, his eyes finding Anjasi and Sadhana. “I think you need to take him away, I’ll take care of her.”

He waved the rest of the soldiers away as Aarya stayed on the ground, collecting the ashes while Rudra’s remains were taken away. Anjasi paused, watching her carefully before turning to Kattappa, nodding once and leaving. As they all left, Bhalla knelt down beside Aarya, enveloping her shaking hands in his and tugging her closer to him. “Would you like to go inside with me, now?”

“Why is it so cold, suddenly?” Aarya murmured, shuffling closer to Bhalla as he helped her up, both of them walking back into the palace. Bhalla huddled her shivering form as close to him as he could and moved her to her room, when he noticed the tight grip she had on the ashes. “Your kingdom isn’t so-”

“Aarya, you need to rest,” he interrupted, shaking her slightly when he paused, hearing voices from the other side of the corridor getting progressively louder. He turned around and saw Kattappa walking towards him, his face grim. “Your Majesty, you have to come with me. And I think it’s best you bring her along too.” Aarya frowned at that, straightening. “I’m fine, where should we go?”

They both silently followed Kattappa towards the voices, and heard Bijjaladeva hiss from his room. “When I told you to strengthen the spell on that scum I didn’t mean to the point where he needs to die again, you fool! You have ruined all my work!”

“I beg you, forgive me,” a voice rang out, and Bhalla inched forward to see a soldier on his knees in front of his father, tears flowing. “I only did what you asked me to, sire. I did the spell to bring that man back, and instructed him to get her out of Mahishmati. I didn’t know such a thing would happen.”

The head priest of Mahishmati scoffed in annoyance and walked to Bijjaladeva. “I had warned you already, sire, that spells to do with the dead are very dangerous. Not only have you brought back a man dead for more than a year using magic that is not your own, but also tried to utilise him for more than a day. The gods will frown upon us, and curse us.”

“It’s not just the gods.” Aarya stormed through, the ashes slipping from her hands as she grabbed the nearest sword, pointing it straight at Bijjaladeva. “All this time I suffered, my kingdom suffered, and it was because of you? Our weakening magic and ashen stones is your fault?”

Bhallaladeva walked in, fury all over his face while his father’s pale face shone with sweat as he looked to Bhalla for help. “You dare put a sword to my throat?!” He tried to sound strong but he only sounded weak and desperate, hands twitching. “You dare use my magic against me?!” Aarya thundered, chest heaving as her hands shook too, pressing further into his neck.

“I could kill you this instant and your son wouldn’t be able to stop me, not just because he doesn’t want to but also because even with weaker magic I am the strongest person in this palace. And you were pathetic enough to think you could send me out of Bhalla’s life this way?”

She stepped away, throwing the sword to the ground and turning to Bhalla. The commotion attracted the attention of the counsel of Sundarsi, with Anjasi and Sadhana and their head priest arriving to the room. “Your father is vehemently against our marriage, Bhalla. This means we declare-” “No one is declaring war, Aarya.” Bhalla scowled, walking to his father.

“Listen to me, Nanna. Will you, or will you not accept our marriage? Despite every single thing you have done, I still am talking well so don’t test my patience.” Bijjaladeva glowered, pushing his son away. “I would rather die.” Bhalla’s face remained stoic as he turned to Aarya.

“If he won’t accept our marriage, it’s his fault. He’s not the emperor anyway, he seems to forget that. He won’t be attending tomorrow, we can just get wed.”

“Bhalla, but-”

“Since you don’t wish to accept it, don’t. You’re old anyway, Nanna. Don’t you think it’s time you went to be a part of the pilgrims?”

Bijjaladeva staggered back, tears burning in his eyes as Aarya looked between both men with uncertainty. “Bhalla, he is your father, I can’t-” “You very much can. We can, Aarya. I don’t care who’s in our way.” Casting his father a last glare, Bhalla grabbed her hands and walked out. Kattappa stared wordlessly at Bijjaladeva as he crumpled to the floor, crying pathetically. “That bitch- she stole my son!”

“She didn’t, Your Majesty. You drove him away.” Kattappa bowed once, leaving him alone. Bijjaladeva stumbled towards his bed, falling down on it.

As he drowned in his own misery, Bhalla and Aarya silently walked towards his room, lost in their own thoughts. As the moon stayed high in the night sky, Aarya turned to Bhalla and said, “It’s midnight, Bhalla. The next day already.” Bhalla raised an eyebrow, staring at her quirky smile with one of his own. “And it is, what about it?” Aarya slowly grabbed his hands, entwining them as she gazed softly at him. “I know it’s not really the best idea I have gotten, but shall we get wed right now? It is the next day, and it is apparently auspicious too.”

Bhalla kept staring at her as she got nervous, looking away from her. “If you think we must wait, then I don’t mind-” “Mahadev’s temple is not here, but we have a quartz shivling down near the prayer halls. Let’s go.” Bhalla’s grip on her hands tightened as they hurried towards the prayer halls, faces glowing with moonlight and happiness.

— —

News spread instantly of Mahishmati’s emperor and Sundarsi’s queen’s hushed marriage, stunning even the kingdoms’ counsel. The couple had alerted their respective ministers of their decision to vanish to be with each other for a while, further astounding everyone. Mahishmati’s citizens rejoiced at the absence of their emperor, even going as far as feeling happy for him owing to his change in behaviour. Sundarsi continued to be governed by the princesses, their magic restored while the old royal of Mahishmati fumed, his own empire being taken care of by Kattappa and the counsel.

As this went on for a couple of months, a soldier ran through the halls of the palace in Kuntala, alerting their queen, Devasena. “Your Majesty, we have visitors. You need to come.” He gasped, looking towards the halls as Devasena waltzed past him, arriving at the bridge as a smile took over her face.

Aarya beamed at her, walking to her with open arms as Devasena rushed to hug her, both the women sighing as they reunited after ages. Bhalla stood behind them, a soft smile on his own face as they pulled away, Devasena gasping at Aarya. “You look ethereal, Aarya. I haven’t seen you this happy in so long, how are you?” Aarya giggled, wrapping an arm around Devasena while she greeted Bhalla, all of them walking towards the palace.

“My husband is taking wonderful care of me, I am good. How are you?” Devasena’s smile wavered, but she nodded, exhaling as she pulled her friend closer to her. “Much better now that I have seen you. Would you like to rest? I shall have your room ready.” Aarya nodded, walking behind a soldier towards her room. As Bhalla was about to follow her, Devasena stuck her hand out, stopping him. “We need to talk, both about my best friend and the child in her.”

-------------------------

taglist open!

@bluecookies-and-ink @manwalaage @thewinchestergirl1208 @lil-stark @rambheem-is-real @gauri-vishalakshi @irisesforyoureyes @itsfookingloosah @seherie @yehsahihai @ronaldofandom @hxnky-pxnky @auranightangle @voidsteffy @budugu @bromance-minus-the-b @browneyesromantic @hissterical-nyaan @chaanv @othersideoftheparadise @maraudersbitchesassemble @ragalata @how-is-it-in-london @sabii5 @kalavathiii @ma-douce-souffrance @dumdaradumdaradum @rambheemlove @rambheemisgoated @nyotamalfoy @justmeand-myinsight @flyinlove @miriseven @mayuriebubblie @obsessedtoafault @goldenharrysworld @phoenix666stuff

#desiblr #rrr #bahubali #bahubali 1 #bahubali 2 #bhallaladeva #bhallaladeva x reader #bhalla #angst #fluff #amarendra bahubali #telugu #tamil #tollywood

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fromkenari · 7 months

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Waterloo Letters #3: A mass of fools and knaves

A mass of fools and knaves A [email protected] 8/10/20 1:04 AM to Henry H, Have you ever read any of Alexander Hamilton’s letters to John Laurens? What am I saying? Of course you haven’t. You’d probably be disinherited for revolutionary sympathies. Well, since I got the boot from the campaign, there is literally nothing for me to do but watch cable news (diligently chipping away at my brain cells by the day) and sort through all my old shit from college. Just looking at papers, thinking: Excellent, yes, I’m so glad I stayed up all night writing this for a 98 in the class, only to get summarily fired from the first job I ever had and exiled to my bedroom! Great job, Alex! Is this how you feel in the palace all the time? It fucking sucks, man. So anyway, I’m going through my college stuff, and I find this analysis I did of Hamilton’s wartime correspondence, and hear me out: I think Hamilton could have been bi. His letters to Laurens are almost as romantic as his letters to his wife. Half of them are signed “Yours” or “Affectionately yrs,” and the last one before Laurens died is signed “Yrs for ever.” I can’t figure out why nobody talks about the possibility of a Founding Father being not straight (outside of Chernow’s biography, which is great btw, see attached bibliography). I mean, I know why, but. Anyway, I found this part of a letter he wrote to Laurens, and it made me think of you. And me, I guess: The truth is I am an unlucky honest man, that speak my sentiments to all and with emphasis. I say this to you because you know it and will not charge me with vanity. I hate Congress—I hate the army—I hate the world—I hate myself. The whole is a mass of fools and knaves; I could almost except you … Thinking about history makes me wonder how I’ll fit into it one day, I guess. And you too. I kinda wish people still wrote like that. History, huh? Bet we could make some. Affectionately yrs, slowly going insane, Alex, First Son of Founding Father Sacrilege

Re: A mass of fools and knaves Henry [email protected] 8/10/20 4:18 AM to A Alex, First Son of Masturbatory Historical Readings: The phrase “see attached bibliography” is the single sexiest thing you have ever written to me. Every time you mention your slow decay inside the White House, I can’t help but feel it’s my fault, and I feel absolutely shit about it. I’m sorry. I should have known better than to turn up at a thing like that. I got carried away; I didn’t think. I know how much that job meant to you. I just want to … you know. Extend the option. If you wanted less of me, and more of that—the work, the uncomplicated things—I would understand. Truly. In any event … Believe it or not, I have actually done a bit of reading on Hamilton, for a number of reasons. First, he was a brilliant writer. Second, I knew you were named after him (the pair of you share an alarming number of traits, by the by: passionate determination, never knowing when to shut up, &c &c). And third, some saucy tart once tried to impugn my virtue against an oil painting of him, and in the halls of memory, some things demand context. Are you angling for a revolutionary soldier role-play scenario? I must inform you, any trace of King George III blood I have would curdle in my very veins and render me useless to you. Or are you suggesting you’d rather exchange passionate letters by candlelight? Should I tell you that when we’re apart, your body comes back to me in dreams? That when I sleep, I see you, the dip of your waist, the freckle above your hip, and when I wake up in the morning, it feels like I’ve just been with you, the phantom touch of your hand on the back of my neck fresh and not imagined? That I can feel your skin against mine, and it makes every bone in my body ache? That, for a few moments, I can hold my breath and be back there with you, in a dream, in a thousand rooms, nowhere at all? I think perhaps Hamilton said it better in a letter to Eliza: You engross my thoughts too intirely to allow me to think of any thing else—you not only employ my mind all day; but you intrude upon my sleep. I meet you in every dream—and when I wake I cannot close my eyes again for ruminating on your sweetness. If you did decide to take the option mentioned at the start of this email, I do hope you haven’t read the rest of this rubbish. Regards, Haplessly Romantic Heretic Prince Henry the Utterly Daft

Re: A mass of fools and knaves A [email protected] 8/10/20 5:36 AM to Henry H, Please don’t be stupid. No part of any of this will ever be uncomplicated. Anyway, you should be a writer. You are a writer. Even after all this, I still always feel like I want to know more of you. Does that sound crazy? I just sit here and wonder, who is this person who knows stuff about Hamilton and writes like this? Where does someone like that even come from? How was I so wrong? It’s weird because I always know things about people, gut feelings that usually lead me in more or less the right direction. I do think I got a gut feeling with you, I just didn’t have what I needed in my head to understand it. But I kind of kept chasing it anyway, like I was just going blindly in a certain direction and hoping for the best. I guess that makes you the North Star? I wanna see you again and soon. I keep reading that one paragraph over and over again. You know which one. I want you back here with me. I want your body and I want the rest of you too. And I want to get the fuck out of this house. Watching June and Nora on TV doing appearances without me is torture. We have this annual thing at my dad’s lake house in Texas. Whole long weekend off the grid. There’s a lake with a pier, and my dad always cooks something fucking amazing. You wanna come? I kind of can’t stop thinking about you all sunburned and pretty sitting out there in the country. It’s the weekend after next. If Shaan can talk to Zahra or somebody about flying you into Austin, we can pick you up from there. Say yes? Yrs, Alex P.S. Allen Ginsberg to Peter Orlovsky—1958: Tho I long for the actual sunlight contact between us I miss you like a home. Shine back honey & think of me.

Re: A mass of fools and knaves Henry [email protected] 8/10/20 8:22 PM to A Alex, If I’m north, I shudder to think where in God’s name we’re going. I’m ruminating on identity and your question about where a person like me comes from, and as best as I can explain it, here’s a story: Once, there was a young prince who was born in a castle. His mother was a princess scholar, and his father was the most handsome, feared knight in all the land. As a boy, people would bring him everything he could ever dream of wanting. The most beautiful silk clothes, ripe fruit from the orangery. At times, he was so happy, he felt he would never grow tired of being a prince. He came from a long, long line of princes, but never before had there been a prince quite like him: born with his heart on the outside of his body. When he was small, his family would smile and laugh and say he would grow out of it one day. But as he grew, it stayed where it was, red and visible and alive. He didn’t mind it very much, but every day, the family’s fear grew that the people of the kingdom would soon notice and turn their backs on the prince. His grandmother, the queen, lived in a high tower, where she spoke only of the other princes, past and present, who were born whole. Then, the prince’s father, the knight, was struck down in battle. The lance tore open his armor and his body and left him bleeding in the dust. And so, when the queen sent new clothes, armor for the prince to parcel his heart away safe, the prince’s mother did not stop her. For she was afraid, now: afraid of her son’s heart torn open too. So the prince wore it, and for many years, he believed it was right. Until he met the most devastatingly gorgeous peasant boy from a nearby village who said absolutely ghastly things to him that made him feel alive for the first time in years and who turned out to be the most mad sort of sorcerer, one who could conjure up things like gold and vodka shots and apricot tarts out of absolutely nothing, and the prince’s whole life went up in a puff of dazzling purple smoke, and the kingdom said, “I can’t believe we’re all so surprised.” I’m in for the lake house. I must admit, I’m glad you’re getting out of the house. I worry you may burn the thing down. Does this mean I’ll be meeting your father? I miss you. x Henry P.S. This is mortifying and maudlin and, honestly, I hope you forget it as soon as you’ve read it. P.P.S. From Henry James to Hendrik C. Andersen, 1899: May the terrific U.S.A. be meanwhile not a brute to you. I feel in you a confidence, dear Boy–which to show is a joy to me. My hopes and desires and sympathies right heartily and most firmly, go with you. So keep up your heart, and tell me, as it shapes itself, your (inevitably, I imagine, more or less weird) American story. May, at any rate, tutta quella gente be good to you.

McQuiston, Casey. Red, White & Royal Blue: A Novel (pp. 239-247). St. Martin's Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

#a mass of fools and knaves #waterloo letters #you probably see this one quoted often #firstprince #alex claremont diaz #henry fox mountchristen windsor #red white and royal blue #casey mcquiston #out of credits

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macbeth-n-cheese · 2 years

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A Brief Commentary on Ghouls

By (not yet) Professor (almost) Doctor Mac (that's me)

But in all seriousness, the effects of radiation are something I find extremely interesting (as seen by my obsession with all things rad), and while I'm glad this isn't something you deal with everyday in a hospital, it would be a cool field to focus a career on. But I digress.

Ghouls, the radioactive zombies of the wasteland.

For once the vagueness of the lore was a positive thing! It left enough space for hyperfocusing nerds like yours truly to hypothesize about them. After screaming about how absurd wrong mostly everything on the wiki is, of course. Onwards!

Gorgeous Looks

Our friends the ghouls were strongly based on real-life victims of nuclear disasters (don't look it up, it's worse than what we see in the games), on the later stages of radiation sickness.

There are different types of waves emitted by nuclear material, but our focus will be on the ionising radiation, the variety capable of altering or even destroying DNA molecules, and possibly killing the cells. Think of it as a fire: the closer you get to it, the warmer you'll feel, but in this case 'fire' is 'nuclear material' and 'warmth' is 'your superficial cells slowly dying from the outside and in as radiation penetrates the layers of you.'

(I will not get into much detail on the ghoulification process now, because I believe it deserves its own, more elaborate post. But hey, Chernobyl from HBO did a fantastic job in portraying radiation sickness. It's definitely not for the faint of heart, but a must watch if you're interested in this type of stuff.)

As the outer skin (epidermis) dies out, it begins to necrose, and slides away like it would in a severe burn case, with excruciating amounts of pain and enough suffering to drive someone insane (more on it later). Hair, nose, ears, most of the lips, they eventually peel off of the body in the more extreme cases, and the survival rates aren't good if you reach this stage.

This would be a decisive point in a pre-ghoul's life, where he will either die of the many ailments that could afflict someone who's lost their outer layer of skin (infections, dehydration, hypothermia, shock, etc etc), or live to see Courier 6 put a bullet through Benny's head, with the help of his newly developed Mutation™.

If he survives, gets away from the direct source of ionising radiation, and develops the mutation I'll talk about in a while, the skin will slowly begin to regenerate, forming a thick, sturdy and leathery scar tissue over most of his body. Hair and lost cartilage will not grow back, and previous injuries like chronic conditions or bone deformation from fractures will not be fixed as well, but hey, immortality.

So, ghouls aren't walking corpses, they're literally living, breathing people, who "just" suffered severe rad burns and mutations on their DNA. Nothing at all like zombies.

Immortality?!

From the wiki: "The unnaturally long lifespan of a ghoul is also due to a mutation within the autonomic nervous system (...) The mutation in response to gamma radiation that produces ghouls disrupts the normal process of decay in the neurotransmitters along the spinal cord," and while the effort was great on their part, this is still a big genetic nope. Allow me a drop of pedantism (a very small one because human genetics is a seven-headed beast):

The process of ageing in humans is essentially due to the natural degradation of the extremities of our chromosomes (bundles of genetic material inside the cells' nucleus), parts known as telomers, that basically don't express DNA and act as a protective layer for the segments that do. A good analogy for them is when you burn the tip of a nylon rope to keep it from fraying. Every time a cell replicates itself, be it for growth, tissue repair or etc, the chromosomes can get a tiny bit shorter, sacrificing part of the telomer to preserve the rest of the DNA, even though some of it is rebuilt by the enzyme telomerase. However, seeing as the only two infinite things in life are the universe and human stupidity (and cancer, keep tuned), the telomer will eventually get smaller and smaller until the cell's capacity of replication is significantly crippled, and it eventually gets destroyed by the organism (apoptosis). The first obvious sign of this is wrinkles on the skin, because the renewal of its cells is diminished, and what follows is the typical old-personhood.

In most cancer cells, there's a ridiculously high expression of telomerase, rendering the tumor immortal, both for the quick reconstruction of the telomer, and for tricking the body into seeing its cells as brand new ones. Now, what causes cancer? Among other things, exposure to extreme levels of radiation, because ionising radiation (the dangerous kind of radiation) can damage the DNA structure.

There's a lot of deep genetics in between this and the apparent immortality of a ghoul, but I can say for sure that it was a massive lucky strike for them to develop a mutation like this. Most of their cells must've had technically become cancerous to reach results like those, but they don't replicate wildly like a regular malignant tumor. They behave almost normally, and just don't die! So I assume the mutation affected something in the telomer/telomerase activity and/or in the process of apoptosis (natural destruction of cells due to old age/factory damage). It would've had to be a very, very specific kind of mutation, and if we were to throw some realism into fallout, the incidence of ghouls would be drastically smaller.

Summing it up, the mutation they suffered affected the individuals on a cellular level, from the outside in, seeing as the deeper layers are the last to be penetrated by radiation.

Regular Ferals

The behaviour of a feral ghoul is... very strange. They're extremely aggressive and canibalistic, but not to one another. They pay little mind to physical injuries and are incapable of rational thoughts. They growl, drool, and overall behave like rabid animals, which could mean that the "outer" layers of their brains (like the frontal lobe, which is responsible for most of what makes us rational) have suffered significant, irreparable damage. Ground zero ghouls, who survived being subjected to higher doses of radiation, would most definitely become Ferals.

Regarding pain, it's important to mention that the brain itself naturally feels no pain, it only interprets and processes pain signals coming from the rest of the body, and the center of distribution for those signals is the thalamus (but I could be wrong), a very inner part of the encephalus. If something between the thalamus and the spinal chord or the rest of the brain is damaged, the notion of pain would be lost on the individual. Mutations could also have something to do with their perception of pain and tolerance towards it, but I couldn't say.

On our next episode, I'll try to focus on the physiology of a ghoul and the health challenges they may face, and if I have enough sanity left, speculate on glowing ones and other special types of ghoulies. (Also shout-out to Raoul, Kent, Arlen, Edward, John, Billy and Charon for being my fav irradiated babies)

P.S.: If you guys want to hear me babble about something specific, hmu! Those things really help me study lol

#fallout headcanons #fallout ghoul #john hancock fo4 #fallout 4 #fallout #radiation sickness #my weird rambling

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stabbysillymoth · 3 days

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Part TWO of https://www.tumblr.com/stabbysillymoth/747933052733440000/sleep-like-the-dead

RAHAHAH THE BRAINROT THE BRAINROT ITS GOT ME IN A CHOKEHOLD

AS ALWAYS Rehabilitation of Death belongs to @bamsara !! I do NOT own it. I just wanted to add an oc into it for giggles!

ENJOY DA PART 2 it’s a bit shorter

Word count: 500

(Also bam let me know if you don’t like the oc inserting!! I don’t wanna cross any boundaries! ❤️)

Narinder couldn’t move.

I mean, he could. He was currently moving. But he wasn’t able to control his body. Like he was watching from inside his skull.

It was another dream. Well, Oneiros had blessed him with another dream. Gods can’t dream. But they were in the usual place: a field of warm grass and a massive rainbow tree in the middle. But he was able to wish for more things, like a couch, a house, things like that. Mortals call those ‘lucid dreams’. But today (tonight, technically), was different.

When Narinder walked, the grass got dark and yellow, like it was rotting. Decaying. He’s never been able to decay things in the dream world before. And he couldn’t will it to stop. How he moved was weird, like sometimes his body moved on its own, sometimes it didn’t. It scared him. Well, not scared. Unnerved is a better word. Oneiros was sitting against the tree. Her eyes were closed like she was resting. Unaware of Narinder’s internal struggle. Usually she would be. She would immediately come over and help him ease his anger, because usually that was the only problem that he had in this dreamworld.

As his body continued to move, his footsteps turned towards Oneiros. And he felt his claws twitch. His mind was suddenly filled with whispers. That alarmed him. Why did his claws itch to kill now?

No. He told himself through the rush of thoughts that didn’t feel like his. Stop moving. Stop it.

But it was useless, his body kept walking slowly. He watched in concern through a body he couldn’t stop.

She has blessed me with peaceful rest. Stop this. Now. Retract your claws. Narinder said more firmly in his mind. Again, it had no effect. He watched in unease as his body stood above Oneiros, looming over the rainbow peacock. To his relief, she woke up.

She can stop this. He said confidently to himself.

“Are you ready to wake, cat? It is nearly time.” Oneiros hummed, her eyes still closed. Her white dress flowing in the breeze, the sunlight that shone through the gaps in the leaves making the rainbow of her wings shimmer. Narinder’s body raised its claws.

NO. ONEIROS, AWAKEN. IF SHE IS KILLED, I CANNOT REST PEACEFULLY. I WILL BE PLAGUED BY THE LAMB IN MY SLEEP. He screamed in his mind. He tried to speak. Anything. A grunt would be enough. But nothing. He would watch in horror as his hands opened to kill.

“…Cat? Are you alright, my dear?” The rainbow peacock said in concern, her eyes fluttering open to look at him.

A squawk of surprise, a screech of horrified realization, a cry of pain.

Narinder only had control of his body when the deed was done. He felt like he was falling. He felt ichor on his hands. He felt sick. He didn’t like it. Her throat. Her neck. Her wings. Her feathers. Her neck. Holy shit, her neck.

Cats always break the bird’s neck first.

Narinder only registered the lack of air through his systems first. He coughed up ichor and wailed softly. He felt like he got hit by a boulder. He used his arms to wipe the ichor flowing down his nose, eyes, and mouth. He felt dizzy. Narinder felt like his head was being ripped in half.

What has he done.

#the rehabilitation of death #bamsara #cotl au #cotl oc #writing #oneshot #technically not a oneshot #fanfic #the brainrot is real #please the autism

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sangwoochos · 4 months

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title: clinging to not getting sentimental.

fandom: saltburn.

pairing: oliver quick/felix catton, felix catton/annabelle.

rating: mature.

wordcount: 874.

summary: oliver watches felix have sex with annabelle, all while being delusional and lying to himself. as usual.

triggers: alcohol use, stalking, voyeurism, smoking, violence.

ao3 link.

felix is staring at annabelle from across the dancefloor. i've seen that glassy, vodka-fueled look before. we all have, though i know that i see it for what it is: desperation. everyone loves felix, they do. no one leaves him alone, and he's grown accustomed to it. all of these people, all gathered at his feet, leaving flowers and prayers just for a glance in their direction. i think the reason he likes me so much is because i don't do that. never have, never will. my sun doesn't shine for felix catton, does it? no. he's worshiped with longing, especially from those like annabelle. i imagine that in her head, she thinks of wedding bells or invitations or feeding felix cake. it's all a bit pathetic, really, watching her now cut through her friends to get to felix. my gaze flicks to india, and her crushing disappointment. another disciple cast aside for felix's cravings. is it sweet to see them kiss as the music vibrates the entire club? hardly. there's nothing romantic about empty kisses that taste like alcohol.

pushing myself off of the wall, i slowly exit, but not the way felix went. that's too obvious, too... strange. people would notice, more than likely, and i can't have that. once they're on the trail back to felix's room, i pick up the slack and walk behind in the shadows. felix is hanging onto annabelle, his long body bent to the left, his head on hers. i can hear giggling, felix raising a bottle. he's smashed — totally off his arse with something horridly flavored, probably. whipped cream vodka or something equally as disgusting. they make it through the winding courtyard of our beloved oxford, and then — i fork toward the windows. i make sure to get there after felix enters with annabelle. their lips crash, two catastrophes looking to destroy fair towns with their undeniable affection. it's tragic.

i light a cigarette, taking a long drag from the filter, the curling wisps of nicotine-tinted smoke dancing around my head like felix does. he shines, you know. trusting and kind and dangerously sheltered from pain. he doesn't know what it's like to want, to need, to suffer for something you've set your heart on. love for him is so gentle, and it comes too fucking easily. he loves me. i know he does. he told me the first time we officially spoke, the words falling from his mouth like warm waterfalls nestled in hidden mountains. it felt... right. beautiful. no hatefulness, no sarcasm. i've never seen him look at annabelle the way he looked at me that day. it's nice when his brown eyes — so much like a loyal dog's — light up with happiness and laughter. i can give that to him, i can always give that to him.

he thrusts into her, the curve of his back lean and tight with exertion. i gain no sexual pleasure from this, i feel empty. tired. it's far past midnight, but that isn't the reason my heart pumps in a slow rhythm. there is no excitement, only the sharpness that comes before decay. a twisted blade, a gunshot that hits a vital organ. i'm bleeding for him, but not in the way one would expect. a tear falls, hot and stinging, and i finish the cigarette off with another drag. flicking it into the flowers, i hope they burn. i hope they wilt and curl into themselves. that's how i feel, that's how this makes me suffocate. they don't last long — fucking drunk will do that to you — the both of them rolling under the duvet looking for a smoke. felix laughs, the lamplight giving him this fucking awful glow. sweat is settled on his chest, and i hate it. i hate him. i hate felix catton. i want to tell him gorgeous words and say he's the only one for me, but i also want to know what it means to hurt him. really, truly hurt him. that's not violence, it's righteousness. a slaying of the ego, a sword wrapped in the thick muscle of self-worth.

she doesn't stay. she never does. with a kiss to his cheek, annabelle pops out whilst adjusting her clothes. felix doesn't bother lamenting, because there's no reason to. the lamp is off, the night presses against me with such incredible, horrible, nauseating weight. i watch his silhouette, moving with the rhythm of his breathing. my hand reaches out, and i press it to the glass. it's as if it also moves with his lungs, like i can feel the reverberation. in and out, in and out. my fingers curl until i form a fist. it's true, isn't it? that verlaine poem.

your soul is a select landscape — where charming masqueraders and bergamaskers go, playing the lute and dancing and almost, sad beneath their fantastic disguises.

all sing in a minor key, of victorious love and the opportune life, they do not seem to believe in their happiness, and their song mingles with the moonlight —

i rear my fist back and then pound it against the glass, the pitch-black night covering my form, my face. felix startles, yells, then leans over to light the lamp. i'm already gone.

#saltburn fic #oliver quick x felix catton #saltburn fanfiction #myfic.

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mirnsey · 4 months

Text

Oh..

Humans and vultures..

Animals so different but such the same..

Humans, who just happened to dwell around with those who they want to take from. They hang over their heads, giving them the love and attention to stroke their ego to then get their stomachs filled in return once the person starts to turn thin. Humans who watch in glee as they start to get weaker, awaiting for the dreadful moment they fall dead. They can then feast on the other beings corpse, devouring all they can to fill the everlasting void in their gut…

And then vultures, or was it.. humans? Who had I just explained?

Are they such the same that I must recall back to my own writing to make sure what I had written was correct? Is it true that both are grotesque flesh eating creatures who anticipate for the downfall of another being to then feast on the meat of their former.

But.. neither vultures nor humans dedicate their lives to do this, they do it to live, not to feel like they are living.

Yes, some are aware of their devilish ways, using their silent movement and spine chilling calls to input fear or even comfort into their decaying victim. Despite this, most did not. Most loved their life and those around them, but soon got an empty feeling in their gut when around a certain person. They seemed different, dwindling of their shining strength.. they were weak.. consumable…

Attachment was the animals next move, slowly integrating into one’s life and heart. They would sit there silently, spewing whatever the prey wanted to hear to try and get into their head. Watching them was their whole life from then on, eyes trained on their food’s body as they slowly decayed to nothing but a reeking corpse. And they would then do nothing but move on instinct, digging their claws into the unmoving body and devouring their flesh.

It wasn’t what they wanted. It was what they needed. They never wanted to do this… giving those what they want just for their body to be eaten in return. To just sit by their side as a companion they could have been, to only be what disposed of their body once they had died. It was how they showed love, making use of the fall of someone who they had seen peak. Stuffing their beak with the meat of a being who they had watched reach their best and slowly become their worst. It was all they could do, all their minds had been calibrated to satisfy some carnal hunger that would come upon them.

It was what the vulture needed to do to live, maw molded to crush bones and talons designed to rip and tear at rotted skin and muscles. They did it to fill their bottomless stomach, sharp eyes searching for whatever new being decided to show even a speck of weakness they could then exploit. To then fulfill their endless need of sustenance in their gut..

To give peace to that pleading and thrashing demand to devour those they have loved…

Or.. was that humans?

Who cared, this is fanfiction, do with it what you please.

————————

I wrote this for the beginning of an angst fanfic, and I’m proud of myself for this *pats self on back*

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tomiokathedepresso · 5 months

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The Inbetween

kny oc fanfic.

Agatsuma Zenitsu/Etsu Hino (OC)

Prologue

Mt. Tsukuba

My father was sentenced to death penalty for unintentionally murdering one of his clients.

I knew exactly why he did it. He scammed his clients with this magical medicine that cures any illnesses, so that he can feed off of his alcohol addiction. Those small red medicines? It’s a mixture of red beans, mint herb, and this wild leaf that was growing from the back of our home. When I was 3 years old, I got to help him mix and pack those little medicines. I was very happy that not only do I get to help my father, but I also get to help my neighborhood. My friends won’t die from sickness, and we’ll be able to play everyday.

One of my friends died the next month. But not because of his sickness. It turns out that the wild leaves that were growing from the back of our house were killing him slowly. From what I remembered, he and his family were eating peacefully, then he stopped breathing, dropping face-first to his plate. His body had to be cremated, because it’s decaying fast. I remember the chaos that took place from the front of our house. My neighborhood was angry towards my parents, but never towards me. I was only 3 years old, someone my age could never do anything wrong. There were a lot of armed people who came to get my father. The inside of our old home was ransacked, but not the soup my mother made for the family. I still remember eating the food that my mother cooked from the stairs of our house, watching the chaos unfold. I wasn’t emotional, not sad. Even though I remember the details, I still don’t understand the concept of emotion at the time. All I know is that anger is a bad feeling, while happiness is a good feeling. When they’re taking my father, I felt nothing. But my mother was angry. It’s weird seeing her like this, because my father is usually the one who’s angry with my mother, not the other way around. While all of those things are happening, all that matters to me at that time is the food that my mother prepared. After that day, we received the news that my father was beheaded. My mother started packing our things, and moved to a new place, because we’re not welcomed there any longer.

My father, he’s not from here. My mother said he came from the west, which explains my dark cold blue eyes and my untameable hair, the very feature I got from my father. She explained to me that my father is not a good person, and that I shouldn’t miss him. She said that to me when I asked her when will my father come back. She told me that I shouldn’t do what he did, and never marry somebody like him. I never understood what she told me as I was upset braiding my hair. But I did notice her getting visibly frustrated and for once, it did worry me. Was it because I mentioned him? Was it because I asked when he would come back? Was I not supposed to?

You see, I didn’t understand the concept of death. Even after 4 years of my father’s death, or my friend’s death, I never understood it. It’s very confusing. I thought they were just leaving, and they would come back when everyone is not angry anymore. My mother explained it to me plenty of times. One of the memorable times she explained it to me is when my grandfather died. I was 7 years old at the time. Mother and I lived near his home. My grandfather lived at the bottom of the mountain, while we lived in the new neighborhood. My grandfather was only 54 that time, he can still hunt in the forest or in the mountains. He’s very strong for his age, he often visits my mother and I. After his trips, he visits us and brings us boar meat, one of my favorite meats to eat. He cuts it up for us with his big strong hands, and helps my mother to cook. While cutting the boar, he tells these stories of demons who lurk in the darkness of the forest and stories of people who hunt them, and that apparently, his great-great-grandfather also hunted demons. I didn’t understand what a demon is, but as to what he’s telling me, demons are bad. They go to people’s homes, and do bad things to them.

I wanted to be like my grandfather. I wanted to be strong so I could help protect my home and my mother from demons, or people who wanted to harm us.

The second week of spring, he didn’t bring us something to cook for 3 days. It made my mother worry for him, telling me that he might be sick. I was still naive, not realizing what’s about to unfold, so I decided to cook on my own for my grandfather to eat, while my own Mother prepared our things before we visited him. Mother and I went to his home in the mountain surrounded by trees, but all we found was grandfather's headless corpse. His liquid stinks, and there’s some splatter of dried reddish-brown liquid on the walls. His corpse is being eaten by some maggots already, and his stomach was open. It was my first time seeing a corpse. I was the one who first saw his body too. My mother took me away immediately and explained to me that my grandfather died, and I needed to stay at home. My mom brought me home and immediately asked for help, while I was left even more confused. No. I felt unsafe. I felt like running.

Ever since that interaction, I started to develop sleeping problems. When I eat, I vividly remember his corpse and it makes me sick. It took a while for me to get over it, but it was certainly hard to forget. I was scared for the first time in my life.

After Grandfather died, my mother decided to live in his home. Mother never buys from the market again, as grandfather has his own garden of vegetables. Instead of meat, the vegetables from the garden are what we eat. If there’s no vegetables, my mother goes to the forest outside our home and forages. If we’re lucky enough, we get a bunny or a chicken, since that’s the only type of animal my mother can cut. I’ve always appreciated and astounded with my mother’s emotional strength. I know she’s emotionally tired, but she always smiles when I talk to her. The time when I can’t get any sleep, she was there consoling me despite lacking sleep herself.

I wish to be like her when I grow up. I want to make her proud and put us out of shame from what my father did. Before we sleep, I always tell her that I’m gonna be an actual nurse someday, and I will take care of her when she gets old. After that, she’d always smile and tell me to go to sleep, tucking me in. Our life became like that for 8 months. I always wake up the next day, with the view of the sun rising at the side of the mountain where we reside.

It was summer when I woke up. It wasn’t hot that night, there were too many trees near our home. But for some reason, I was wet. I was confused, because Mother would have woken me up to help her move all of the futons we have on the floor to somewhere dry if it’s raining. It was too dark, I was expecting it to be morning already but it’s dark. Why is it dark? And why is there a silhouette in the door? I remember what this creature looked like. It’s clawed, almost looking like a human. I got a better look at his features when the moonlight shone. His skin color is the same as my grandfather’s corpse. Plum. Its mouth is red– no. Its mouth is dripping with this red liquid. The smell, it stinks. I looked at my hands, and it looks like I also got covered with this liquid, that’s why I was wet. It smelled horrible. “Mother?” I remember calling out, looking for my mother as I panic in the corner of our home.

I looked to my right, and I saw a headless corpse. It looked like it was trying to protect me, because its arms were directed towards me. I was frozen when I recognized the kimono the corpse was wearing, despite it being drenched in– what I assume, her own blood. I looked at the creature, and saw what it was holding. I cannot scream. I was scared and nothing came out of my mouth because of how terrified I am. The monster in my door took a step, dropping my mother’s head. It was smiling.

“A cute little brat, I guess I’m lucky today!” It spoke, before letting out a demented laugh. In one swift move, It grabbed my neck at the corner of our house. I’m hurting. I can’t breathe. I tried kicking him off but I’m too weak. But not weak enough to hurt it by clawing. I clawed it in the face, despite not breathing and not having the stamina. “Ah child, don’t fight me! I’m here to help you not suffer.” My eyes widened as the damage I inflicted on it healed. It healed like nothing ever happened. Not a scar on sight.

I can see white particles flying around as my vision darkens. This… creature. It was smiling. But I’m sad. This thing killed my mother. I am beyond furious, but I’m too weak and afraid. I don’t have any experience with fighting. It is gonna kill me too. I started banging the wall on my back, hoping someone hears us.

Who am I kidding, no one’s gonna hear us. We live in the mountains, you stupid fucking kid. The town is at the bottom of the mountain, you and your headless mother’s neighbor is far away from your own fucking home. My vision is slowly going dark. I looked at the door, and I could see that it’s almost dawn.

If I died that night, that would’ve been my last time seeing the sun. It would’ve been better if that happened. That way, I would be with my own mother, in the heavens.

Then I noticed a figure running to my home. Before I knew it, the creature, who’s hand was in my neck, was now headless, and I was dropped into the pool of my Mother’s blood, which is right below me.

Behind this creature’s corpse stood a man with silver hair– No, it’s not silver, probably white. The only reason it was silver is because of the sun rising up, hitting this man’s feature. He’s almost the same height as my grandfather, and his eyes looked crazy. He has this green sword drenched in blood that is slowly turning to ash, and his body is full of scars. He looked at me, and my mother’s headless corpse, and bowed his head.

“My apologies, I arrived late to rescue you and your mother.” He told me as he put down his sword and kneeled in front of me. “I’m not going to hurt you. Are you wounded?” I was still in the corner of my home, wincing from what the creature did to me as I instinctively touched my neck. My mouth was dry, and trembling. My eyes began to water. “N-no.” was all I could reply to the man in front of me. He sighed, and swore under his breath. He looked at me again and softly grabbed my arm to check if there’s any wound. All he can see is the hand mark on my neck that the creature left.

“Do you have a name?” He was looking for something in his pocket when he spoke.

“Etsu Hino.” Mother said that my father didn’t bother naming me, so she named me instead. I didn’t get my father’s last name, that’s one of the reasons why father is angry at mother. Now that mother’s gone, her last name will be one of the things that will remind me of her. I looked at the man in front of me as he stood up.

“Etsu, come help me put a proper burial for your mother.”

»»----------►

An hour later, the sun is scorching hot, even though the sun is still not that high up. Sanemi Shinazugawa, the name of the man who saved me from that creature, turns out to be a demon slayer, the people my grandfather told me about. The creature he killed is a demon. They turn to ashes and disappear once they’re hit by the sun. It was burning earlier while we were burying my mother’s corpse, and the sun is already up. This organization Sanemi is a part of is a secret organization made to kill demons. That’s why people don't believe in demons, it was so secret. No one knew but the people who were part of it, and perhaps the demons themselves.

The demons, who've been plaguing Japan for hundreds of years now, hunt during the night because the sun will kill them during the day. It’s no wonder that people who isolate more are getting killed. People like me and my mother.

During my mother’s burial, I was seething in anger. It’s the first time I’ve felt anger, at the age of 8. I want to kill demons, I want to get stronger to protect other people, so that they won’t experience what I had experienced. But I’m too young, I can’t get that strong immediately. Sanemi finished praying for the dead, but I’m just there, standing. Angry, sad, hungry– you name it. I can tell he’s having a hard time reading me, and hard time comforting a child. “Do you have a relative?”

“They’re dead.” I replied nonchalantly.

“Not even grandparents?”

“Dead.”

He stood next to me, and he sighed. What is he gonna do next? Leave me here to rot just like my grandfather? That’s not fair, none of this is fair. “Etsu, I’ll find you somebody who will take you as their own daughter, how about that?”

“No.” “No?”

“No, I want to train.” That must have snapped something in him, that it immediately made him drop the shovel he was using earlier to make a hole. His dirty, soiled hand made its contact on my face. My cheek was numb at first, but I suddenly felt it burn my skin, living a large, red hand print on it. Because of the sudden impact, I was laying on the dirt, as if soiling my favorite, blood-drenched kimono wasn’t enough. I looked up, seeing the very same man who saved me from my imminent death, has hurt me. To no avail, I was too numb to care. I can’t feel angry at this man, I want someone to pay for my mother’s death. If I had the strength like he has, I would’ve easily killed that monster. If given a chance, it will satisfy my– my–

What was the word? I think my grandfather told me what that word was? He uses that word when he describes demons… I think? I stood up, about to speak again, when this man cut me off.

“What do you know about fighting? You suddenly became insistent on becoming what I am, like you know how to fight– all of a sudden ?” He knelt down in front of me, with his crazed eyes. He looked like he was about to lose himself any second. And he did, in a form of punching the ground, fighting the urge to, what I assume, would be cursing from the pain after doing so. From the sound of punching the ground, it looked like it hurt. I got jolted out from my observations as he gripped my shoulder tightly, shaking me from where I fell down. “Your mother would’ve survived if I arrived here earlier. Your limbs are small, you can’t run that fast, Etsu. You cannot even defend yourself, what makes you think you’re any better? What much of an idiotic child can do on the battlefield? Moron .” And with that, his palm hit my cheek again. This time, I didn’t fall from where I’m sitting, as one of his hands is still supporting my weight. Now, it feels like my cheek burns for the second time. He thinks he’s the only one frustrated in this situation, that someone like me wants to become a slayer. Men like him irritate me. He’s one of those people my mother warned me about. Stubborn, aggressive, hot-blooded. Safe to say he’s also an impulse-driven individual, considering how he just showed aggression without any second thoughts whatsoever. Inconsiderate smooth-brained brat.

My anger is still fresh, like the sun I’m experiencing in this morning light. He sighed, probably regretting shaking and hitting a child two times. He was about to let me go, but I’m not about to let him do that. I’m lucky, as my nails have been unkempt for the past month. As soon as I felt his touch was about to leave, my nails dug into his arm. His eyes immediately shot back to me, as he felt my weight, and my nails piercing him. “You’re going to abandon me too? My family is gone, and you’re thinking of giving me away, leaving me to somebody while I cry for justice?”

“Don’t you dare tell me that, you brat!” He exclaimed, trying to let me go. “I’ve been through so much training, and I still think of what might’ve been for me and my family. You don’t know who I am, so don’t you dare run your mouth.” He was able to push me away again, hissing in the process as the wind grazed the wound I inflicted. He picked up his sword instead, unsheathing it. All I can do is watch as he checks if his sword got some dirt in it, then sheathed it again as he sighed. Then he looked at me, and it almost looked like he was sorry for saying what he just said to me.

“Live, like how your own mother would’ve wanted, Etsu. You will not want this. You’re merely a child.” He held out his hand to me, as I looked up to his face when he got closer. “I’ll find somebody to take care of you.”

I didn’t budge from where I sat. My mother would want me to fight for what’s right. Who the hell is he to dictate what I would want? Who is he to dictate what my own mother would’ve wanted for me? He’s not just an impulse-driven man, he’s also stupid, and a hypocrite. Even though he saved my life, I felt nothing but anger towards him. He started to get impatient, as I only stared at him. “I don’t have all day, Etsu–” “It’s Hino.” I replied, nonchalantly.

“What?”

“You heard me, it’s Hino. That’s what you will call me, Shinazugawa.” I stood up, facing him despite the difference of our height. His eyebrows furrowed when I talked. ‘He’s listening? Good.’ I thought.

“You will hear me out, and I will not repeat myself.” I continued, as I stepped forward, while he stepped backward. “The things you just said apply to you too, you hypocrite. You don’t know me. What do you , of all people, would know about my mother? My only family, might I add?” My index finger landed on his chest, which made his balance go off. He managed to catch himself with his left foot as I spoke again. “You’re not even inside my head. If you were, you will want to leave it. Because there are a lot of things I want to do to that demon you killed that I wasn’t able to do. If you are what you say you are, you will be glad to have somebody to recruit.” I found my finger in his chest, the intensity of how I land it is becoming much stronger. It only made Sanemi snicker, but I’m still not finished talking.

“You call me a child, yet you forget you’re one as well, hypocrite. All I want is justice, and you deprive me of it. You’re no different to a demon who takes and takes from a happy family.” And with that, I ended what I wanted to say as Sanemi found himself cornered at the wooden wall of my home. Assuming I was done yapping, Sanemi was about to push me again, but he was shocked with what happened next.

A vengeful 8-years-old girl, who’s height is at 3 '8 (Sanemi assumed), and her weight is below average, was able to punch through her own home’s wall, with her strength alone like it was nothing.

Sanemi was astounded. Or that’s what it looks like, at least. He looked back to the very hole I created, while his back was still leaning on that very wall. I ignored the searing pain in my own knuckles as I withdrew my hand. It would’ve been his own stomach I punched. He should be glad that wasn’t gonna be the case, because it would’ve left him feeling gutted for the entire day. Attempting to stop crying, I breathed. I looked in the skies, trying to make my tears not fall on my cheeks. Then I spoke again.

“I’d rather rot here, if you’re not letting me serve the corps. What a selfish decision, to survive by myself, knowing someone out there could be experiencing the same thing.” I spat out, like my tongue was laced with snake’s poison. “And I thought you’re a hero–”

“Enough.” Sanemi swatted away the hand that punched the hole behind him. I think it’s becoming clear that I’m not going anywhere, not when I still needed to avenge my mother. His eyes falter for a moment as he kneels, like a brother making sure his little sibling is feeling well. It’s not that I doubted he has one, but that look is very familiar. It’s the same look my own mother gives me when I dropped my bowl of hot udon to myself. When it spilled on me, all I did was laugh. I remember my own mother being very concerned, but I didn’t know why. The udon is at its boiling point, still hot, but it wasn’t hot for me. Like it was… just lukewarm. That feeling came back, but this time, it was my face that’s lukewarm. My body felt like lead, and my heart is just as heavy as what I'm feeling physically. I just want a quiet life with my mother, but this is what I’m given. Sanemi stared for a while, took a sharp breath and spoke.

“Becoming what I am is a very hard thing to do.” He placed his hand on my shoulder, but unlike what he did before, his touch is more gentle. My watered eyes found his, as my body became heavier than earlier. “There are a lot of things that I wish never happened to me at all. You’re too young to join, but I understand you have nobody to rely on. To some extent, as I hate to admit it, you’re right too, but having the job that I have, it’s not a joke. It’s an unbreakable vow, as you will have to offer your body as part of your service in the corps.” He paused. He took his time kneeling down to my height, to see my reaction it seems. Or perhaps to talk to me like an equal. I couldn’t really tell, as my eye betrays me, a tear is falling down my cheek. “It isn’t an easy task to be burdened with. Do you really want to join?”

Without missing a beat, I replied. “It’s not like I have anyone else. If this is what the Gods want me to do, at the cost of my life, then so be it.”

»»----------►

The rest of the day was a blur. While I was outside of my home, mourning for my mother, he cleaned my home, including the pool of blood, spilled in the walls of my home. When he was done cleaning, he told me to get myself cleaned, and change my clothes while he took care of cooking. I obliged, as I didn’t want to run around with blood on my favourite kimono. If I do that, I’ll receive looks and attention I didn’t want at the first place.

I went out of my home, with a change of clothing, and a brush; so I can brush away the dried blood off of the kimono I was wearing while I take a bath in a nearby river. The river isn’t that far away. The river is just a few walks down my home, so water isn’t really a problem. The only reason I took a bath here was because I can’t really get water without stumbling my way up to my own home. None of the town people want to help us with chores. Taking a bath here is refreshing anyways, no one will bother to come and take a look at our home. I just have to make sure to make this quick, and head back to eat. My journey after leaving my home for good will be very long. I will need all the rest I can get.

After feeling satisfied with cleaning myself up and my own kimono, I figured it’s time to get up and go home. I’m a few steps away from my home, but I can already smell something getting cooked. Knowing it was Shinazugawa, I was impressed. Men rarely cook, especially the ones from the town. My grandfather was an exception, as he’s a hunter. I guess you can say this is the second male in my life who knows how to cook. It’s usually us, the woman in the house, who cooks for them. But considering that this person is a Demon Slayer, that only meant that they’re required to live and do things all by themselves.

I got inside my home, and the smell made my head spin. I didn’t realize how hungry I was, until whatever Shinazugawa was cooking slapped my nostrils. The sun is above my head, so it’s only right to feel this way. It’s been a long morning, now that I'm without my own mother.

“You’re changed. Good.” He hummed, clanking the big spoon used to mix– what appears to be soup. I bowed and went back outside to hang the kimono I washed, so it can dry. Going back inside, Shinazugawa already prepared two bowls– one for me, and one for him, and a pot of rice was placed on the floor, with wet cloth supporting it under. There’s another pot, but it stays under the fire he started. That one was the dish we’re going to have today.

“Come, eat. We have to leave this place before nightfall.” He said to me as he put some rice in his own bowl, his head nodding across him, where my bowl and my chopstick are placed. And I did so. We ate in silence. No other words were uttered, and the tension is eating me in my insides. It’s probably for the best, considering how this guy loves becoming violent with no warnings whatsoever. He might’ve saved me, but I have not forgiven the way he talked me down. For professionalism, it’s much better to treat him like I would treat a good person, even when he hurt me earlier. Besides, I will work with him in the future, not that I’m looking forward to it, no matter how likely we get paired up in the future, once I pass the– what he calls, the Final Selection; a survival test that lasts for 7 days, a test that determines if you’re skillful enough to be a slayer..

It sounded easy, the way he described it. That was until he said we will face demons there, without medical attention, without food, without water– unless I already have some with me when I get there. The only breaks we have is whenever the sun conquers the land for a while. I might have to ask him later on our way what it would take for me to be qualified in the said test. Now that I think about it, why is there a need to leave my home behind? That’s an action I still don’t understand. I’ve been thinking about it, while I’m washing my own kimono earlier. Why is there a need to leave in the first place? Do I have to train somewhere else?

I finished my food, cleaning the bowl and leaving it inside the cabinet full of utensils and bowls. He did the same, but in haste– eager to get out of this place. That’s what I thought he’s gonna do, but then, a crow perched at the entrance of my home. It appears that Sanemi was expecting this tamed crow, as he proceeds to take a letter from his kimono and give it to this little lad. It bows as I was about to touch it. But the crow took off to the westside, with its foot holding the letter that Shinazugawa gave. That’s another thing to ask him about the content of the letter. But knowing we’re both leaving before nightfall, arriving at our destination might answer that question. It’s better to shut up instead of initiating a conversation with this… man. I don’t want to make him change his mind, knowing how hot-headed he immediately gets.

After eating, I took the large basket outside of our home, cleaned it with the little water reservoir we had inside, and put the things I might need. Most of it is the clothes that still fit my little body, including the kimono that I washed earlier. I also brought all of the accessories that my mother bought me, and my mother’s clothes. By the time I almost finished packing, Shinazugawa finished sharpening his sword. He was watching me the whole time, while I was packing my things. His stare pierced the back of my skull, which made me feel uneasy. When he finished, he stood up, going outside to wait for me there. The sunset is quite near, so I must hurry. I looked at the back of the storage area, and when I felt the small rough ball, I pulled it out. It was my grandma’s wedding gift, 2 kanzashis. One is warm coloured, while the other is cool coloured. Even though I never met my own grandmother, my grandfather made sure that I’d known her; through his words, that is. This will serve as my reminder of my grandpa and my grandma’s existence. There was a small fish knife near it, so I took it as well. I tied the fish knife outside of the basket, while the kanzashis are tucked in the side of the basket.

Satisfied, I covered the top of the basket with a white cloth, and attempted to lift it. By the word attempt, I meant falling back on the ground, with my bum planted in the ground. I know Shinazugawa heard it, but only snickered, knowing what was happening inside. It took a while, but I eventually put the basket behind my back.

I went out of my home, my hands are in the strap of the basket to support the weight of it. Shinazugawa seems to be facing the west momentarily before looking back at me. “Did you bring everything that you need?” As I nodded, he held out his left hand, in which I took. Looking at the sun that’s resting in the mountains, it made me think of the good times that I had– only to realize how quickly it was taken away from me. At the age of 8, it’s when I realized the meaning of losing somebody. I lost my best friend, my father, my grandfather, and my mother– in the span of 5 years alone. The thought alone reawakens the anger I never thought will ever appear. We stopped in our tracks, as I looked back at the home I’m about to abandon, remembering all the fun times me and my mother spent for a few seasons. Knowing what my mother would have wanted, we continue walking forward, where the moon is. I’ll do everything to get stronger, even if it means dying in battle.

Your death will not be wasted in vain, Mother.

Hey, it's greatgemar, also known as tomiokathedepresso. I finally released this abomination of a prologue! This fic will be called "The Inbetween", I hope you guys will read it. While writing the prologue, I realized that writing 6k alone is hard, which is why this prologue is only 5.8k. Because of that, I apologize for my incompetence. It's been a while since I made a fic in general, as the last time I released one was back in 2018 (wew, 5 years). You could say that this is a fresh start again, as the fic I released in Wattpad before, are now deleted (Yes, I used Wattpad before.) Before you ask it, no. I will not be uploading this in Wattpad, unless the entire fic is finished. From this moment forward, I will be updating this fic on Tumblr, and ao3 only. In Tumblr, I'll pin the masterlist post of the Inbetween, That way, you won't be having any trouble looking where you left off. Speaking of ao3, You can find this fic at ao3 as well! Clicking this link will send you there. Interact with me there as well, and if you have theories of where the story will head, I'm more than glad to hear you out. Thank you for reading! I hope you read the next one <3

#kny #kny oc #demon slayer #demon slayer oc #kimetsu no yaiba oc #kimetsu no yaiba #kny fanfic #kimetsu no yaiba fic #kny fic #demon slayer fic

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wlw-lovestruck-fiction · 2 years

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Hi guys. Would you consider writing Ruelle and MC in the future expecting children? Extra points if there is a moody Ruelle amped up on hormones

Written by: Squirrel

When she first took the throne MC was met with plenty of animosity and adversity. But, that seems practically easy now.

With people she can argue and manipulate and carefully hedge her bets. They can be reasoned with and if not then they can be shut beyond the doors so MC can rest.

Unborn children cannot be reasoned with and cannot be shut out.

MC sits up. It is still well before dawn. The kicking in her belly was cute at first, in the daylight. But now it’s so frequent and so severe she’s willing to wager that she’s having twins. One twin starts moving which prompts the other one to start kicking until they exhaust each other and subsequently their mother.

“What’s wrong?” Ruelle murmurs. She reaches over to move her wife’s hair behind her ear, “Are you sick?”

“No. Just-” MC stops short. She’s not sure which organ just got between her ribcage and her child’s foot but the pain is sharp. Pressing her hand over the spot does little to dampen it, “They’re kicking.”

Ruelle lays prone on the bed so her face is level with MC’s lap. Her tone becomes that which she usually uses when Piama or Lyris aren’t following instructions. It’s loving but firm and promises dark consequences if not obeyed.

“Listen. No one is allowed to hurt your mother. That includes you. Stop kicking.”

Like magic, the kicking stops. MC slowly lies back down, groaning in appreciation when Ruelle arranges a pillow by her belly and snuggles up to her back.

“Thank you dear.”

“It is my pleasure.”

Ruelle smooths her palms along MC’s swollen middle and feels her whole body shiver and relax. She presses slow, reverent kisses to the back of the redhead’s neck and along the back of her shoulder.

“You’re giving me the greatest gift in the world. I feel like I can’t do enough.”

“It shows. I promise you do more than enough.”

Eventually Ruelle drifts off back to sleep but her arm remains draped around MC’s middle. Unfortunately sleep is MC’s greatest friend who she so rarely sees these days. After dawn she is exhausted enough she could sleep, but Lysende is now awake and in need of leadership. There are no sick days as queen.

By the time lunch rolls around MC is ravenous. When she reaches for the door handle the door gently swings open seemingly on its own. But the soft scent of plant decay and leather give away her presence. MC smiles, “Thank you Ruelle.”

There are audible sighs of relief from the guards. The people of Lysende are still adjusting to watching their queen use her magic. Opening doors without lifting a finger would be a new, powerful step up from her previous feats.

Ruelle walks with MC’s hands resting in the crook of her elbow.

“Where have you been?”

“Checking on security with Amara.”

“Ruelle-”

“Nothing more than usual I promise.”

“Oh really?” Galen smirks, “Is that why my entire ship was searched by you personally?”

When MC turns to give her wife a scathing look she’s vanished again and is pulling out MC’s chair. Her aching feet direct her quickly into it without complaint.

A vast spread of sandwiches extends from one end of the table to the other. One of the things MC has been able to keep down, due to her tender stomach, has been bread. So artisans from all across Lysende extended their best recipes for expecting mothers. Everything from soup to butter to ways to soften meat and keep up strength.

“I mean this in the kindest way, but you look awful,” Piama says, “Have you been sleeping?”

“Has Ruelle been letting you sleep?” Lyris smirks, exchanging a mischievous look with Galen.

Ruelle appears to glare at the two, “If you two like sleeping soundly I’d cease and desist with your tasteless jokes.”

“The twins like to kick at night. I feel terrible because the only thing that gets them to stop is Ruelle.”

Suddenly all three of their friends' attention are piqued. Lyris, having used up his good grace with Ruelle, nudges Galen. The starseeker puts on one of their winning smiles, “What does Ruelle do to calm her children? Sing lullabies?”

As a matter of fact, she does. But MC isn’t about to reveal that to their friends. Especially not with her wife’s frayed nerves.

“No. She speaks to them, and they stop kicking. It’s like magic. But that means I have to wake her up and I feel bad. The kingdom needs at least one queen who’s gotten sleep.” Apparently to prove her point a yawn stretches from the depths of MC's tired soul. This makes her eyelids three times as heavy. If they weren’t in public and image wasn’t so important she'd fold her arms and take a catnap on the table.

Instead MC reaches for a sandwich. At the same time Ruelle sweeps the plate with a stone in her hand.

“Ruelle, are you enchanting her food?”

“It’s a stone that detects poison. More effective and less fatal than royal tasters,” Ruelle replies, “A gift from mistress Xenia. She figured it wouldn’t make sense to wait for the baby shower.”

MC smiles, “Thank her for me.”

Food is just the beginning. Soon Ruelle is measuring steps and having the masons round off sharp corners. Fortunately in a castle where everything is built in circles sharp corners are few and far between. Next she moves on to setting up a new arrangement for the guard detail making sure the twins won’t be able to go anywhere dangerous like the stables or the kitchen. No one has mentioned it yet but if the twins can vanish like Ruelle then there’s going to be a whole new level of overprotectiveness from the consort.

“MC! MC!” Piama comes running down the hall. Of course this is only because no one is watching, otherwise the princess would be perfectly composed. She’s breathless but not from running. The spring princess takes MC’s arm, barely containing herself otherwise she’d be snorting more than laughing.

“What’s so funny?”

“Ruelle is-” Piama points, “I’m sorry you have to see it for yourself- I can’t-”

Of course Piama would put it into words. She’s very good with words both on paper and in conversation. But she lacks the breath and the strength.

MC finds the door to her bedchamber ajar with lights on inside. She peers in quietly and has to grab her face to keep from bursting out laughing.

Sitting on their bed with Iris in her lap is Ruelle. Not entirely fond of mistress Xenia’s wedding gift Ruelle will usually only pet the aiolop to please her wife. Iris is not so indifferent to Ruelle. Gideon muses that the inherent scent of decay that follows autumn nobles is what causes Iris to dislike Ruelle.

Unable to keep the creature in her lap by obedience, the queen consort has the aiolop stuck between her legs. Iris, who is muzzled with a sock, is wriggling and growling fiercely.

“Sit still. The sooner I finish this the sooner you’ll be free,” Ruelle growls, “If MC wasn’t so fond of you you’d make a lovely hat.”

Iris stops. She turns to glare at Ruelle who glowers in return. While Iris is distracted momentarily Ruelle stuffs something onto her antlers.

“Ruelle?”

Ruelle’s amber eyes widen and she releases Iris instantly.

“Hello dear.”

“What is this?” MC laughs softly, looking at the bizarre apparatus on Iris’ head.

Ruelle slides down from the bed, “A prototype. That thing is already obsessed with your belly. Once the twins are born she’ll want to be close to them. I’m designing something so she can’t hurt them with her horns or headbutt them.”

It looks like cotton balls stuffed on the point of each already rounded antler and a web of string stretched across Iris’ head. The idea is clear, but utterly ridiculous.

MC goes to the bed where she sits quietly. Ruelle follows her every movement, taking her hand.

“Are you alright?”

“I’m fine. I’m just choosing my words carefully so I don’t hurt your feelings.”

“What feelings?” Ruelle remarks with a smile.

MC moves Ruelle’s dark tresses behind her ear, “The feelings that drive you to round off every sharp stone in the castle. The same one that have removed all your weapons from our bedroom except the ones you keep for protection. The feelings that sing lullabies to our children who haven’t even been born yet.”

“Cut that out.”

MC chuckles, “The same feelings that are making your eyes tear up right now.”

Vanishing would be just as telling so Ruelle wipes her sleeve across her eyes, “I can take a hint.”

“And that would be?”

“I’ll try to tone it down.”

A knock comes at the door and Ruelle vanishes. MC, has already grabbed the wrist of the hand that her love has wrapped around a dagger.

Ruelle offers the cheesiest fake smile MC has ever seen when she rematerializes, “Cross my heart, I’ll tone it down. Starting tomorrow.”

#answerd #anonymous #lovestruck #women of lovestruck #reigning passions ruelle #reigning passions mc #ruelle of the autumn #ruelle x mc #fluff #fluffy #pregnancy fluff #protective ruelle #touching thursday

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