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#anyways the possibility of me making ocs for this is extremely high

vennilavee · 4 months

Text

Petrichor

pairing: stsg, geto x reader, gojo x reader, stsg x reader

summary: In the middle of the lush forest, there sits a lonely house on a hill. On a dark and rainy night, you find your way to the house and it's inhabitants while running away from a deep, dark secret that you refuse to confront. Little do you know that they welcome you with open arms because they want you in a way that you’ve never been wanted before. It’s so easy to succumb to the darkness once you’ve been invited in…

warnings: this is meant to be a horror fic so please heed with caution - vampire geto, ghost gojo, smut, biting, drinking of blood, bloodplay, unreliable narrators, murder, death and dying, suicide, everyone is a little freaky here including oc, yandere behaviors (i think??)

word count: 15k

a/n: meant to be written for spooky season in october...happy new year do not perceive me. HUGE thank you to @lovenona @libroparaiso @hoennislands for reading large chunks of this fic before i posted it, and @lovenona for the painting for the fic banner! i appreciate u<3

To add to an already terrible day, heavy and dark storm clouds cover the expanse of the sky before splitting open. Rain follows the split seam, pelting down and landing on your car before being met with your windshield wipers.

It’s a good thing you had your tires replaced recently, you think distractedly while tightening your grip on the wheel.

The rumble of your car’s engine is the only noise you hear as you zip through the barely there road in the forest. There are no cars on this road. There are no lights, save for the high beams bursting from your car.

It feels as if you are going in circles, despite the GPS telling you that you are on the right path. You can barely see five feet ahead of you as the rain begins to downpour. You hate driving in storms.

Perhaps you should pull over, rather than potentially wrap your car around a tree while trying to get out of this storm. Can you beat it? Can you beat the ominous clap of thunder and the bright streak of lightning?

In the distance, you hear the winds picking up speed as the towering trees sway. The last thing you need is to die because a tree fell on you.

All you were trying to do was clear your head with a nice, soothing drive after what can only be described as the worst week of your life. The weather forecast didn’t include heavy rain with zero visibility today. You must just be incredibly lucky.

Driving in this weather will surely result in your premature death. You make a split second decision and pull over to the side of the road, glancing at the umbrella in your passenger seat.

You scoff, stepping out into the darkness and further into the belly of the forest.

Night has fully draped over the forest and yet, the rain has not relented. You must have been walking, following your GPS for hours now. And yet, it seems as if you continue to walk further and further away from the road.

You are drenched and shivering, possibly looking like a drowned animal as you trek through the mud and fallen branches. Even if you wanted to, you wouldn’t be able to return to your car. There is no way to tell what direction it’s in anyway.

So you continue on, shivering with the hood of your jacket covering your head and cursing the skies for leaving you stranded in this endless storm. Your phone vibrates with weather alerts indicating that you should seek shelter due to extreme flooding.

How ironic.

Your umbrella is long gone, proving to be useless with the force of the rain and the wind. You are completely alone in the lush, green forest. Perhaps you stop and appreciate the scent of petrichor if you weren’t so stuck and at the mercy of the unseen forces from above.

You don’t know how much you endure the walk, but you see something in the distance. Something warm, something like the light.

A tall, dark house sits on a hill barely visible with the darkness of the night. But you can clearly see the warmth of the lights that emanate from inside the house.

It feels like a reprieve, a lighthouse as you are lost at sea. So you run towards the warmth.

The house is more of a mansion, you realize as you stand in front of the ornate, mahogany door. Green vines twist around the door as if to protect the house from any trespassers. They seem to pulsate when you touch them, hissing at you in an attempt to send you away.

You shiver again.

Lilies and red roses line the entryway to the front door. Despite the remote location of this strange mansion, clearly someone maintains the upkeep of it.

You’ve never seen a viridian so vibrant. It’s hard to take your eyes away from it, tracing the way drops fall from the vines onto the stark white lilies before dripping onto the meticulously carved stone pathway.

The rain pours down on you heavily, and it rolls off of your trembling shoulders. It feels dry here, like the sun is gently peering out. This strange mansion must be an oasis, or a safe haven for those lost in the woods.

You knock on the door impatiently, hoping that someone, anyone, can save you from the storm. A crack of thunder splits your ears and you jump, knocking again.

“Come on, come on,” you mutter under your breath, “Please, it’s freezing-”

The magnificent door creaks loudly before being pulled open dramatically, only to reveal a tall, white haired man with striking and absurdly blue eyes.

You can’t look directly at him for too long. You think you’ll be blinded.

“How annoying,” he drawls, “Annoying and impatient.”

“My car broke down,” you interrupt, your teeth chattering, “Please, I’m so cold-”

“Oh?” he looks you up and down several times over with an infuriating, smug grin on his stupidly handsome face.

“Can you please assess whether I’m a thief or a murderer or anything equally as dramatic while I’m inside?” you say, glaring at him, “I’ve been walking for hours, please let me in until the storm passes over. I’m begging you.”

“You’re lucky you’re so charming when you beg,” he says, waving you in.

Warmth immediately engulfs you and you sigh in relief. “Thank you, thank you, thank you-”

“Don’t thank me just yet. Didn’t you call for help?”

“My phone has no service,” you reply easily, staring him right in the eye.

“No service, What a shame. I suppose it cannot be helped,” he shrugs, “Didn’t you hear? This storm is supposed to last several days. You must be a fool for driving through this.”

“I guess so-”

“Especially in the forest. You never know what’s lurking around here.”

His smile fades and he looks at you pointedly, as if he’s looking straight through you. His gaze unnerves you but still, it takes you half a second to decide you’re staying here in the dry warmth.

Besides, it’s not like you have anywhere to go.

“Gojo Satoru,” he says simply and begins walking away from you. Does he care to know the name of a complete stranger that he just let into his home?

“Aren’t you afraid of strangers? Have you learned nothing from the movies? I could kill you when your back is turned,” you reply as you follow behind him.

“That’s highly unlikely,” Gojo laughs, but it sounds hollow as it echoes through the hall.

“You don’t know me.”

“I know you’re stuck in the middle of this horrendous storm with only me and the inhabitants of this house for company. You think I have reason to fear you?”

Gojo Satoru stops walking and abruptly turns to face you, crowding your vision. He speaks to you, but you’re not quite listening. You’re too enchanted by the odd blue of his eyes. Eyes that bright and deep simply do not exist beyond the walls of this house.

You think you may drown if you stare for too long. Gojo’s skin is pale, even when the lights hit the angles of his handsome face. Maybe there is a halo around his head, invisible to your eye. After all, he is the only semblance of a human that you have encountered in the last six hours.

He must be an angel, sent to shepherd you through this storm.

Inhabitants. Gojo mentioned other inhabitants, but you have yet to see anyone else in the house. Despite the emptiness of the house, it looks homey and cozy, with trinkets and odd items strewn about. It is clear that someone lives here. Someone other than Gojo.

You try not to let curiosity get the best of you and just focus on getting warm. With chattering teeth, you allow scalding hot water to drench your skin and your hair. Trying to catch your breath as you shake like a leaf under the spray.

All alone in a strange house in the middle of nowhere with no escape. It’s enough to make anyone nervous, but you welcome it like a reprieve. A second chance. A rebirth.

You brace yourself against the wall of the shower and watch absently as blood mixes with water into the drain.

Wholly unaware of the pair of eyes watching you in the bath, you sigh heavily as if the weight of the world is on your shoulders. It is. Everything is-

No. You won’t think about it, not now.

You can’t feel the graze of his fingertips, not when he caresses the slope of your neck or presses his fingertips to your hips. Not even when he rubs the inside of your soft thighs, or flutters over your calves just to feel the warmth of your skin. He traces the curvature of your spine with the palm of his hand, while you are none the wiser.

He stands in front of you, admiring the way you turn your neck from side to side and rub your sore muscles. Will you let your hands drift downwards? Would you give him that reprieve?

Your tits fit perfectly in his hands, spilling into his palms without any misgivings. He’d nearly forgotten how velvety a woman’s skin was. Much less a human’s. A gasp leaves his lips as he massages your chest, meeting your eyes eagerly. But you can’t see him.

Your cheeks are heated as you lather soap on your skin with hooded eyes and bitten lips. He leans closer, sniffing your neck- you smell divine, what a gorgeous gift you might be…

And then he is called away abruptly, lamenting that loss of your warmth curled away in his hands.

A dark emerald silk robe lays on the pristinely made bed. It’s buttery and soft against your fingertips and it looks brand new. You can’t help but try it on, and somehow it fits you as if it was tailored for you. It’s perfect. You do a little spin in front of the full-length mirror and giggle to yourself, marveling at how it fits you perfectly.

The guest bedroom he showed you to is massive, with ornate cherry wood furniture and a four poster bed that seems like it was custom made.

The warm scent of sandalwood remains on the duvet and on the pillows as you sink into the bed and try to get comfortable. It’s been such a long day and you just want to rest…

It doesn’t take you long to fall asleep in this odd house despite only having been here for a few hours. The storm rages on outside, rain battering against the windows as it lulls you into the first peaceful slumber you’ve had in months.

It has been a long time since a human showed up drenched, terrified and shivering to his home. In the modern age, it seemed that less and less people would venture this deep into the forest. In the old days, it would have been the odd traveler or warriors passing by through the night or a woman running away from her betrothed.

Those were always his favorite visitors. These days, it’s usually just foolish, inebriated teenagers or a stray fox. Definitely not nearly as entertaining.

He remains hidden, until Gojo tells him to come out of the shadows. For now, he will remain content to watch you from a distance in his own home. Your shoulders are tense but your face is friendly as you chat away with the white-haired man as you nurse a warm cup of tea in your hands.

You keep him at arm’s length but not too far away so as to arouse suspicion from the man who gave you shelter during such a horrendous storm.

It smells so sweet inside now. Like nectar and honey and flowers. He had a feeling that dark green would be your color, anyway.

There is a portion of the house that Gojo has warned you to not enter. About half of the house is dimly lit, a sharp contrast to the rest of the house that you have seen. The quietness of the hallway just a few short steps away from your bedroom is eerie.

You can’t help but look beyond the threshold and into the darkened hallway.

With the risen moon in the storm as your witness, you ignore Gojo Satoru’s voice in your head and take a few tentative steps towards the forbidden part of the house.

The bedroom at the end of the hall.

It’s not your fault. He shouldn’t have made it sound so enticing.

An owl hoots in the distance, just outside the house. Is the storm still devastating the forest? It’s awfully quiet. Save for your clumsy footsteps. How long has it been? A night? Three?

Darkness is your only company as your heart thunders in your ears and you push against the heavy wooden door. A single turn of the knob reveals that the door is in fact, unlocked.

You exhale, very aware of the hairs standing at the back of your neck. Turning your head, you squint into the darkness. Trying to shake the inevitable feeling of being watched in this endless abyss of a hallway.

You have to know. You must know why this room is forbidden to you.

So you push the door open with your full strength, only to be met with even more darkness. Somehow, it’s a different kind of darkness. The kind of darkness that swallows you and does not spit you back out. The kind that you surrender to.

Surrender comes easily.

Your pupils cannot seem to adjust to the dark, no matter how long you stand here in the forbidden room. Waiting for something - anything - a stream of moonlight, a flicker of a candle. Instead, you stand in the middle of this airy room, one that you can’t see even five feet in front of you in.

A shiver rips down your spine as the door slams shut with a sudden gust of wind from a seemingly closed window whips around you, only for the air to remain perfectly still and breathless.

Amethyst eyes stare back at you in the unmoving darkness. Mirth is clear in these eyes and your shock is amusing, it appears.

“Can’t follow instructions, can you?” The voice is syrupy and magnetic. You hear the voice, beckoning you closer, but you cannot see where the voice is coming from.

He is illuminated by a sudden flash of thunder just by the large French windows.

This is what Gojo must have meant by inhabitants.

The stranger stalks towards you, his steps languid and sure. You’re frozen in place, unable to move. Too mesmerized by the gold flecks in his violet eyes, and the curtain of glossy, black hair that billows with each step he takes.

Light does not need to brighten his face for him to announce his presence.

“Not great at following rules, are we?”

“Rules?” you manage to reply after a beat, squeezing your fingers together in an attempt to ground yourself. He notices, a barely there smirk forming on his handsome face.

He towers over you like a god of the skies, with the moon as his crown.

“You were told not to come here, weren’t you?” His voice is coated by soft velvet, curling around you but leaving you cold.

“Gojo’s told you about me?” you ask curiously. He talks about you? To this chiseled stranger? The thought makes your heart flutter and heat to flood your cheeks.

“I know all about the lost women who seek sanctuary in my home,” he says softly, a hand curling around your jaw. Your eyes drift to his glossy lips briefly. It’s impossible for you to look away from him, his eyes are magnetizing as they stare right through you. As if you are made of glass.

He chuckles.

The erratic beating of your heart thrums in his ears as blood rushes through your veins like syrup. He licks his lips as your eyes drop to follow his tongue eagerly.

What a foolish girl. You don’t even know his name, and you’re already rubbing your thighs together. His reflection looks back at him in your glossy, dark eyes.

Oh, you are exquisite, a divine little thing wrapped up in a bow. A gift given to him by his lover.

Gojo Satoru is a man of celestial tastes and he always has been for decades. He must remember to praise his lover on a job well done, after all. It’s not often that a woman with blood as sweet and ripe as yours falls into his bedroom serendipitously.

Your eyes are wide and wanting, waiting for him to say something. You just want to hear the melody of his voice once more. Just once more. Another few minutes until you leave his bedroom. Just once more.

His touch is icy cold as his thumb parts your lips further, a sharp exhale blowing against his face. A shiver wracks your spine once more but you will not leave his embrace. The simple touch makes you feel alive again, as if you have been searching and searching for something for years but have not been able to find it.

It feels familiar and foreign.

“Go back to bed, girl,” he says dismissively.

“Can’t I stay? With you?” you ask unabashedly, reaching for his velvet, black robe. You catch a sliver of his tanned chest from underneath his robe and swallow.

He is vaguely reminded of a stray kitten, desperate for attention. Adorable, and pathetic.

“Not yet,” he replies, disappearing back into the darkness that he emerged from with a featherlight touch to your cheek, “Not yet.”

His voice echoes through the walls of the grand bedroom, bouncing off of the ornate paintings. You leave the room, wondering if the enigmatic man with purple eyes was merely just a dream conjured up by the wildest parts of your subconscious.

Time must operate on a different frequency in this house. You’ve slept at least six nights here, and yet the storm is as vengeful as it was the first day you arrived at the house. There is no sign of the storm easing up, either. With no end in sight, you continue to explore the house, thoughts of your car long forgotten.

You’ve yet to come across the purple-eyed man again.

Gojo Satoru is the best company you’ve had in weeks. Possibly months, or years. He finds you in the library more often than not, or in the garden.

The garden that seemingly has not been marred by the wicked winds of the storm. Somehow, the house stands still, impervious to mother nature.

“What are you reading today?” comes a voice far too close to your ear. Gojo Satoru loves invading your personal space, as you’ve come to learn.

“It’s a history book,” you reply, not looking up from the page you’re on. He doesn’t need to know, but you’ve stopped reading the page ever since you noticed him appear in the room. You’ve been waiting for him to stop by, as he always does.

“How absolutely fascinating,” he says, sitting next to you and pushing the book aside to lay his head on your lap, “Now you have something nicer to look at.”

“Is that so?”

You look down at him, once again startled by the blue of his eyes. No matter how many times you’ve seen it, it always takes your breath away. It takes a moment to adjust to the unnatural hue of his eyes and his stark white hair.

He smiles at you. At that moment, he looked so boyish and young. You wonder how long he’s been here.

“You’ve made quite a home for yourself here, haven’t you,” he muses.

“Have I overstayed my welcome?” you don’t sound particularly troubled by it.

“Not at all. Don’t you want to get back home? I’m sure you have people wondering where you are. A child? A spouse?” he probes, eyebrows raising when your heart quickens at the mention of a spouse.

“He’s not waiting or wondering where I am,” you say bitterly, immediately tensing up, “He never loved me.”

“I’m sure he’s worried about you-”

“No. He’s not,” you say with a note of finality. You look away, at your hands in your lap as your face falls and something far away settles on your features. Your lips tug into a slight frown.

“Well, anyone would be lucky to have you love them. He wasn’t worthy,” Gojo soothes you with a comforting squeeze of your hands.

“No, he wasn’t,” you reply. Your eyes are glassy and distant, as if you are replaying a memory of your past in your mind. It was simple, until it wasn’t. You were enough, until you weren’t. “I am deserving of a lover who would do anything for me.”

“Of course you are, darling,” he says, sitting up and tilting your chin up to meet your eyes, “I’m sorry anyone convinced you otherwise.”

You turn toward him, meeting his gaze with big, watery eyes. Your hands are held tightly within his, as you lean towards him. Allowing your gaze to flicker to his pouty lips and back to his eyes.

“You deserve a lover who would write you love letters,” he murmurs, “Compare you to the moon’s beauty.” A kiss to your chin. “Be your lighthouse in the storm.” A kiss to your cheek. “Protect you from the darkness of the world by destroying it. Keep you safe,” A kiss to your eyelid. “A lover who would do anything for you.” A kiss to the corner of your lips.

“A lover who would kill for you.”

A final barely there kiss to your lips. Your cheeks are warm, chest fluttering as you lean into him once more to press your lips to his again. He lays back against the couch so that you lay on top of him comfortably as you chase his kisses. You are impatient, your hands straying to his hair, to his chest to unbutton his shirt.

Your moans are soft in his ears, as if you haven’t been touched like this in forever. Gojo watches the pretty planes of your face shift as he focuses his energy on you, on gripping your hips and letting his hands wander over you before resting on your chest. Your heart is hammering away, soft and delicious.

He looks ethereal under you, fallen from the skies above. You can’t pull away, certainly not from the foreign look in his eyes. One that you’ve never seen before, not in your husband, not in previous lovers… It’s for you, the look of ripe, unbitten desire.

“Oh, you are a gorgeous thing, aren’t you?”

Your skin feels overheated- with too many layers covering the space between you and the man beneath you. You struggle to take your dress off, but Gojo replaces your fingers with his own.

“I’ll take care of you, won’t I? You’ll let me take care of you?”

You nod wordlessly as he lifts you up to take your dress off. You sit completely naked on top of him while he is still clothed.

Your face is buried in his neck as you rut your hips against him, trying to gain friction. Gojo looks up and to the side, feeling a pair of eyes on his back. Purple meets blue and he winks at his lover and smiles before turning his attention to you.

He hopes his dear lover is watching.

Geto Suguru is exhausted, deep within his centuries old bones. Blood does not come by the house as often as it used to, and while it would be just as easy to go to the nearest city to get his fill…

It does not hold the same pleasure anymore. Besides, when his lover is intent on finding him an everlasting source of blood, who is he to argue?

He is just so hungry, absolutely famished. It doesn’t help that a brilliant and beautiful damsel is sleeping in his home, just down the hall. He can hear your soft breaths and the rustle of the sheets as you twist and turn. Are you dreaming of him?

He supposes he can find out just as easily.

He enters your dreams with hardly any resistance from you. Your mind is malleable as he sifts through as if flipping pages of a book. There are patches of grey darkness melded in with hues of emerald and cerulean and amber as he takes a look around the essence of your mind.

It’s almost as if your subconscious can sense his presence and clears a path for him.

There you are, standing in a cemetery surrounded by fallen leaves and dead trees. The sky is grey, fitting with the melancholy that surrounds the cemetery. A breeze in the air whistles through his hair and leads him to you.

Sitting in front of a tiny memorial with an odd smile on your face.

Is this a dream, or is this a memory?

He makes a note of the name on the memorial, just as you lift your head and stare vacantly at him. Almost as if he’s made of glass and you are looking straight through him to the other side.

The dream shifts in a puff of smoke and he is suddenly in an apartment shrouded in shadows and darkness with nothing but the sounds of hoarse voices speaking loudly to each other. Not quite yelling, but not quite talking quietly either.

“... You never loved me, never made me a priority-”

“That’s not true and you know it-”

“You can’t wait to get rid of me, can you-”

“You have this version of love in your fucked up head that doesn’t exist. That nobody can live up to-”

“I just want you to love me and protect me!”

Then there is crying and harsh screaming. It grates against his eardrums before ebbing away into nothingness.

Until he is flung into an ocean of blood and nearly drowns trying to get back into reality.

An envelope outside your bedroom door awaits you after your morning walk in the garden. It is addressed to you, with your name written in black ink in cursive with a large wax seal. You run your finger over the seal in awe.

Who exactly are the men who live in this house, anyway?

The letter reads:

You are cordially invited to join me for dinner tonight, at 6:30 PM sharp. You will find three dresses in the closet of your bedroom. Choose wisely.

I look forward to our evening together.

There is no signature, only initials embossed in the parchment paper in silky, black print. The initials are shiny and wet, as if it was just signed and placed under your bedroom door.

You hold the letter close to your chest, unable to keep the giddy smile off of your face. Ever since you were a young girl, you’ve always dreamed of a lover who would write you letters dictating their unconditional love for you.

You look at the letter again, tracing over the initials gently and press a gentle kiss to the ink. How utterly enchanting.

You decide on the muted mauve gown with tiny, shimmering stars embedded into the tulle. Will your mysterious dinner guest be happy with your choice? Which of the three dresses did he want to see you in?

Your heart flutters at the thought of seeing the long, dark haired man with otherworldly eyes chance a glance at you once more.

He awaits you in lustrous black robes at the bottom of the neverending marble spiral staircase, looking like a painting come to life. Your breath catches in your throat when he meets your eyes with that soft up-turn of his lips.

“Good evening,” he says, voice carrying as he offers his arm to you, “Your punctuality is alluring.”

“Only my punctuality?” you ask breathlessly.

“I suppose that remains to be determined, doesn’t it?”

He leads you to the dining room, one of the many rooms you have not explored yet. A heavy chandelier glitters above the dark mahogany table and if you look for longer than a second, you’d be able to see your reflection in it.

“I’ve observed you, you know. Exquisite taste in books,” he informs you.

“Oh, yes, I’m…well-read, I guess,” you shrug, taking a sip of your flavorful soup.

“I’ve seen you in the library. That old couch isn’t very comfortable. Is it you who leaves my books out in disarray?” he teases.

“What?! I never left behind a mess-” you protest but relax when you see his grin, “Oh. Don’t make fun of me.”

You both sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes. He barely touches his full plate of food, instead opting to take in your presence in his home. In just a few short days, you’ve made this house your own home.

“Tell me,” he says, his voice curling around you and warming your cold hands, “What are you reading? What’s caught your attention?”

“A little bit of this, a little bit of that,” you say vaguely, “I like history.”

“History? What about history interests you?”

“Well… I like learning about the past,” you muse, “We’re doomed to repeat history if we don’t see the patterns throughout time…”

“Yes, we certainly are,” he nods, “History is funny that way.”

“It is. Our own histories are just a reflection of that, too.”

“Oh?”

“We’re doomed to make the same mistakes if we don’t recognize our own flaws… I suppose.”

“And what are your flaws?” he asks smoothly, making you laugh.

“I have none, couldn’t you tell?” you reply with a wink.

He merely looks at you, staring at you as if he can see right through you into the fibers of your soul. It’s unnerving, and you look away to focus on your food and on chewing each bite thoroughly. He doesn’t eat much, if anything, only drinking every few minutes from his glass of wine. But his eyes remain transfixed on you even as you sit in silence.

“I want to show you something,” he says once you’re finished with your meal.

You nod and let him lead the way.

He takes you through the garden, past freshly bloomed tulips, cherry blossoms and red spider lilies and dewy, green bushes. Your eyes are suddenly filled with color, but all you can fix your gaze on is the man who glides in front of you with your hand in his.

His hand is cold, but his voice is warm like tea.

The summer rains continue to fall, but not on you.

In the center of the vast garden sits a shimmering lake with the bluest, clearest water that you’ve ever seen. Your eyes are wide in wonder. Is there a mountain hidden beyond the trees?

“This lake wasn’t here when we moved into the house,” the man says softly.

“How is that possible?”

“The universe gave her to us when we needed her most,” he replies, turning his head with an intense stare.

“And you believe that?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

You shrug, breaking eye contact with him to look back at the lake. The man is intense, like a blazing fire in the darkness. You can’t help but hold onto his every word as he regales you with the tale of how he stumbled upon this forest. His voice is enchanting as it echoes through the silent forest- the trees must be listening to his reverence as well.

He reminds you of a tortured prince. His voice is heard from further and further away as you marvel at the stillness of the young lake. Soon, you can’t hear his voice at all.

The thought should scare you, but you feel safe and protected by the trees in this forest.

You hardly realize how far you’ve walked by yourself, to the other side of the lake. Excitement (maybe adrenaline) settles in your bones as a sudden impenetrable fog emerges, and yet you touch it, wrap your hands around it. As if it has a heartbeat.

It surrounds you but is gentle in its caress as you pick up the skirt of your dress to avoid tumbling as you sprint through the woods.

The trees fade away behind you.

Inhale, exhale. Inhale, exhale. Air fills your lungs like a reprieve. Just before you let it go and gulp down air again. The crunch of boots on fallen leaves and sound of birds fleeing does nothing to quell the nerves in your belly.

The puffy sleeve of your dress catches on a stray branch, the pretty tulle ripping into shreds. What a waste of such a beautiful dress, you think absently. Your arm begins to bleed profusely but you pay it no mind.

You are a princess, being sought after by the monster in the closet.

Geto Suguru nearly hisses when the scent of fresh blood permeates the air like a barely hidden vice. It’s sweet, like a freshly plucked peach on a summer day.

He wonders how you’d taste on his tongue, your neck bare and craned all for him…

Dull pain radiates across his gums as his fangs descend further. Your sharp laugh pierces the uneasy quiet of the dark forest. His runaway princess, always seemingly ten steps ahead of him.

You flit in between the trees, looking over your shoulder with curious, cautious eyes. Even from this distance at the edge of the forest, he sees honey dripping from your wild eyes.

As you look over your shoulder, you see him taking languid steps toward you. When you blink, he’s there, a shrouded shadow that you nearly miss in your line of sight. When you blink again, he’s gone. Your sprints slow to a walk before you stop completely. In the middle of these strange woods, you look up to the sky, only to see a shroud of endless grey descending upon you.

Purple blinks back at you from high up in the trees. You shiver, and he suddenly stands in front of you, his velvety black robes billowing behind him.

“You have every opportunity to leave,” he says silkily. His words melt over you, dripping onto your skin like hot candle wax. The warmth is soothing and you would do anything he asked, you think.

“I know,” you say softly.

His eyes sear into yours, searching and burning through you as he comes closer. His touch is cold as his index finger remains on your jaw, stroking your cheekbone slowly. Your eyes are wide, shining eagerly with obedience.

His lips part, his gleaming fangs lengthening so daintily and his eyes shift from purple to black. But he is still his welcoming self, with his easy smile and his gentle touch. Except, the way he smiles is different.

The shift is there, but barely recognizable.

“You should’ve run away, little dove, ” he says softly in your ear as you shiver in his hold, “When you had the chance to.”

You shake your head, only making him graze your neck further. You are ravishing, the slow honey in your body gushing like a waterfall.

“There is nothing for me beyond this forest anymore,” you whisper softly into his ear. His lips flutter warmly against the column of your neck.

The first bite is always the most painful, but it eases away as quickly as it came as his fangs sink heartily into the delicate skin of your neck. Right next to your jugular vein, but not quite.

A sigh echoes through the forest, barely a noise over the sound of drops of your blood dripping onto his tongue. It is euphoric- your eyes flutter shut when his fangs pierce further into your neck. Almost straight into the vein.

If he’s not careful, he might drain you dry. That would be…tragic, considering the promise he made to Gojo.

But you are so sweet. Like nectar, and you walked right into his home with open arms, tangled in his decadent web.

Your grip on his robes is tight as you somehow pull him closer. As if you want him to take more out of you. How greedy. But he doesn’t, instead pulling away and licking his lips. His eyes revert back to their chilling purple as he keeps his gaze on you.

You sigh again, feeling lightheaded and dizzy. And yet, something flutters in your belly, making you smile and look up at him with lovestruck eyes.

“What’s your name?” you exhale, your breaths coming out in cold wisps as the wind bites your skin.

He smirks at you, fangs still tinted red with your blood. Your heart races.

“Geto Suguru,” he murmurs, brushing a stray drop of blood away from your neck with his lithe finger and licking it.

He says your name softly before he kisses you, the taste of metal ripe on your lips like a summer peach. Your knees immediately buckle as he slips further into your mouth. Despite the chill of his fingertips, a fire alights in your belly and spreads and spreads. Your breaths are erratic as you trail after him, struggling to keep up.

Your name in his mouth sounds like a promise.

The slight pain in the back of your head throbs lightly with each thready thought that forms in your brain, and yet all you can think about is the way Geto Suguru’s lips felt on your neck. The cold touch of his fingertips against your skin as he meticulously drank your blood.

Your blood. He chose you and he came after you in that forest.

It makes you giddy. It makes the headache worth it.

Slowly, the night turns into day. Repetitively, you hear the sound of the cozy rain and the sharpness of the wind against the windows nearly rattling the house. You don’t recall the last time you saw the sun, and yet light filters into the house through the skylights placed in the living room.

You don’t question it. It’s better than the alternative, being stuck in that stuffy house with your awful husband. Your husband who never cared for you, who never sought you out. Made you his priority.

Despite the fancy jewelry and pristine silks, the way you would dote on him, he never noticed you. He probably didn’t even notice that you were gone, anyway. You were supposed to be his favorite. His only.

No matter. Geto Suguru drank your blood today. Nobody else’s but yours. Are you his favorite? His only?

You can’t help but laugh at such a ridiculous thought as you gingerly touch your neck and soothe the bite marks. Of course, you’re his only. You are the only woman in this house, save for Gojo Satoru. And he has been nowhere to be seen as of late.

You must be his favorite.

“Jealousy is quite attractive on you,” Suguru says, chuckling as Satoru glares at him and throws a pillow at him half-heartedly.

“Don’t make fun of me,” Satoru sighs dramatically, throwing his arm over his eyes.

“Now you’re just being juvenile,” Suguru says, tossing the pillow back. The air is briefly knocked out of Satoru’s lungs and he tries to sit up. He glares at his lover, but the heat in his bright eyes falters as he reaches for him and cradles his jaw.

“You know this is only a means to an end,” he soothes.

“Sorry I can’t be a human again so you could drink my blood,” Satoru says petulantly, “You like her, I know you do.”

“There’s no need to be accusatory,” Suguru replies, airily, “And there’s no reason to lie. I know you like her, too. As if I don’t know that you watch her when you shouldn’t.”

Satoru rolls his eyes but his shoulders slump as he slides into Suguru’s warm embrace. “I just…I wish I could bleed for you the way you need me to. I wish I could fulfill you in the way this stranger can.”

“Oh, I’ve neglected you, haven’t I,” Suguru says softly, tightening his hold around Satoru’s narrow waist, “You brought her into our home for me. There must have been something about her that was alluring to you.”

“It’s not everyday you find a woman who abandoned her car in the middle of the worst storm in years only to show up drenched at the front door. The opportunity presented itself and I couldn’t resist.”

“She seems in no rush to leave. To go back home. We should find out why,” Suguru muses, his train of thought interrupted by Satoru’s wandering hands.

“That’s a later problem,” Satoru murmurs, letting his fingers trail up his thigh. His touch is fleeting, barely there. Just applying the tiniest pressure behind his knee, where he knows Suguru is sensitive. He shudders- it’s funny, that a vampire as old as him can still feel flustered by a simple caress.

Well, Satoru has had many opportunities to learn over the centuries from the Meiji era to now. They were both young high school boys when they met, with dreams of samurai becoming distant as their worlds cracked wide open by the introduction of new literature, new teachers, new philosophies. They were still boys, running through empty fields, sharing copies of the same books. Sharing shade under the same tree branch.

Sharing each other’s first kiss. They were boys, until they weren’t.

The clocks continued to spin until neither of them could control the inevitable passage of time. Time pulled them apart, Satoru to Tokyo and Suguru back to the countryside to take care of his parents and the farm he left behind.

They found each other again, this time under much more dire circumstances. Vampirism was spreading through Japan like a plague, and Suguru wanted to know everything about it. What was eternal life like? Was it beautiful, did it contain multitudes? Was there anything human about an immortal being?

His questions were meaningless because it didn’t take long for him to succumb to a vampire bite. His parents were dead and everything on the farm was gone, ripped to pieces and blood splattered across the wooden walls of the barn.

It took him about three decades to discover that the carnage was laid out by him. He was turned and he rained blood on his own home. It took another decade to find the vampire nest who did this to him.

Then another three decades to find Gojo Satoru once more.

He had been nestled in the heart of Tokyo, as a teacher of all things. There had been a very brief, happy reunion. It didn’t take Suguru long to realize that something was off about Satoru. The coincidences were too many- he was flighty and impulsive, rarely eating (in fact, Suguru can’t recall the last time he saw him eat any food), and he swears that his skin was translucent in the sunlight.

“Something is keeping me here,” Satoru muses with his lover’s head in his lap, “Can’t imagine what it is.”

“I don’t want you to cross the Sanzu River, not without me,” Suguru says firmly, looking at him with red eyes.

“Is there an afterlife for vampires?” Satoru muses, “I mean, I’m surely safe. I’m a ghost, after all. A spirit tethered to the material earth, or something.”

“If you wanted to leave, you would.”

“Yes,” he says solemnly, “I suppose I would.”

It has been decades since that day and the universe has pulled them apart and brought them back together many times. For two immortal beings, spending five or eight or fifteen years apart is just a blip in the fabric of time. They both find each other each time, even when Suguru was contemplating his entire existence as a vampire and a former human.

He had become Japan’s most infamous vampire for a period of time after draining over a hundred humans completely of their blood. How was it just, for them to hold two little vampire girls hostage when they had no say in being turned?

Suguru couldn’t stomach it- how isolating and selfish humans could be in the face of adversity. In the name of self-righteousness.

Never again, he vowed. Never again would he allow humans to treat his own that way. But Satoru brought him back from the brink of sure destruction, before Suguru could decimate the entirety of Japan.

Satoru wouldn’t let him give in to his most primal urges. He wouldn’t let Suguru lose himself because he couldn’t be bound to the earth without him-

“I can’t let you do this.”

“Don’t tell me you care-”

“I can’t let you do this to me, you can’t leave me here! Not for this. Not for them.”

“You’re selfish, Satoru!”

“So are you,” he scoffs.

But that was the end of it. Suguru’s eyes had returned to their purple and Satoru whisked him away.

He had whisked him away from all the noise, the blood, the chaos to the towering castle in the trees that they currently lived in in the quiet of the forest-

“Hey,” Satoru questions, poking his cheek, “You just spaced out for a while.”

“I was thinking about you,” Suguru replies, turning his head to meet his caress.

“As always-”

“You saved me. And you continue to save me,” Suguru says, “So let me show you my undying gratitude.”

Satoru hopes desperately that you can hear the echoes of his pleasure from your bedroom.

The house seems to have transfigured into more of a castle the longer you stay here. Winding staircases appear out of thin air complete with unfamiliar corridors and twists and turns.

But what remains the same is the library and how often you frequent it. The entire history of the universe must be kept in these bookshelves. There isn’t enough time in the day for you to read all of the treasures inside the library that seems to get bigger everyday.

You have been reading the same book for some time now, getting distracted by thoughts of Gojo Satoru. He hasn’t come to visit you in the library recently and you can’t help but wonder if you’ve done something to upset him for him to avoid you.

He comes and goes as he pleases. As if he’s there but he’s not there at all.

“There you are,” you say easily, sitting next to him on the bed.

“Can I help you?” Satoru says petulantly. You resist the urge to roll your eyes.

“Are you mad at me?” you ask, nudging his shoulder with yours.

“Whatever gave you that idea,” he deadpans, still not looking at you.

“Oh, come on,” you whine, tugging at his hand, “You can tell me anything.”

His head turns to you abruptly, too quickly to be considered normal. With narrowed eyes, he searches your face for any sign of deceit.

Satoru scoffs and lays back on the bed dramatically. You follow his actions and face him, meeting his terribly piercing gaze. Unable to stop yourself, you allow your fingers to graze his pale cheek. When he doesn’t flinch, you let your hand rest on his chest. He is more muscular than he looks, you think.

As if Satoru can read your thoughts, he turns to you and glares at you.

Comfortable silence fills the room. He stares at you, thoughts swirling behind those azure eyes, willing himself to speak.

Satoru pretends like he doesn’t notice your hand drifting down further.

“I found you first,” he mumbles, “And I found him first.”

“You did find me first,” you muse, “When nobody else wanted me, you did.”

Your grip on his shirt tightens briefly.

“And now he’s drinking your blood and I can’t-”

“Oh, Satoru,” you say softly, “You don’t want to be left behind, do you?”

He doesn’t meet your eyes, but his silence conveys all you need to know. If Satoru could blush, his cheeks would be tinted a rosy color. You vowed before, to never let yourself feel as unwanted and lonely as you did in that relationship. And to never let anyone else feel that same loneliness.

His name is a honeyed whisper on your tongue that he wishes to pull from your pretty lips as often as he can.

“I found you both first,” Satoru replies harshly before he presses his lips to yours, “Don’t ever forget that.”

Chaos bursts in his bright eyes before he closes them to kiss you, to pull your voice to the tip of your tongue. Your mouth is sweet, full of roses and tea. It’s no wonder Suguru is so taken with the taste of your rich blood.

You fist his shirt as if you can’t get close enough to him with quickened breaths. Satoru can feel the rise and fall of your chest against his. Can you feel his weightlessness against you?

Satoru pulls you into his lap easily, groaning into your mouth when you lazily rock your hips into his. You remind him that you’re with him in this magical forest, that he found you first. The universe brought you to him and he kisses you fiercely, to ground himself.

Despite your hands marking his shoulder blades and your legs tight around his narrow hips, Satoru feels far away. Impossible to touch as if there is a veil keeping you on the outside.

Does he know? It doesn’t matter- you’ll find your way through the fog to touch his soul with your gentle fingertips.

The castle contains newly appearing staircases and paintings that have surely been lost to something as feeble as time and history. It protects you from the raging storm outside, the storm that surely awaits you in your home.

It protects you from dangers that you cannot see.

You shouldn’t be here. You really shouldn’t, but you can’t be blamed. Not when the endless shadows of the house- the castle- lead you here. Straight to the ornate door of what must be Suguru and Satoru’s bedroom.

Only a door shields you from them. Only a door shields them from you.

Quiet whispers are muffled beyond the door, both of their voices mixing together. Whispers flow into syrupy moans as you press your ear against the door to listen.

You shouldn’t be here, disrupting what is surely to be an intimate moment between two lovers that you are not privy to. But you want to be. You want to feel their breaths span across your back, hear their voices low in your ear, feel their sinewy limbs under your fingertips.

It makes you shiver. To be velvet in between silver and gold. All you can do is press your ear closer, closer…

No, you shouldn’t. But they’re so close to you-

“I can hear you breathing from out there,” Suguru says dryly, loudly enough for you to hear through the door, “If you’re trying to conceal yourself, you’re not doing a very good job.”

Impatiently, you push the door open, mesmerized by Suguru on his knees in front of Satoru. He is seated on the bed, leaning back on his elbows with hazy eyes and his fingers tangled in Suguru’s hair.

You inhale hungrily, unsure of where to look. Suguru chuckles at you and beckons you closer with a simple, heady look.

“Don’t just stand there,” he says, his voice strained as Satoru complains over the lack of attention on him, “Sit down.”

You barely breathe as Suguru strokes Satoru’s hardened, leaking cock with his massive hand. You wonder how that hand would look around Satoru’s neck- as if he can read your mind, his left hand wanders up the pale divots of his chest and to his neck. Resting there, holding Satoru in place as he squirms for Suguru to do something. Anything.

Suguru’s voice is low but clear, softly telling Satoru to stay still and be patient. His hips jump in time with Suguru’s lazy strokes. How torturous- how long has Suguru had his lover on his back like this, waiting for mercy?

It must have been for a long time, considering the trembling of Satoru’s body and how he silently begs for more.

He smears pre-cum over his cock before pushing Satoru’s legs wider apart. Looking over his shoulder to see if you’re watching his movements, only to smirk at you knowingly. Your cheeks are warm as you peer at him. At Satoru’s vulnerability.

Suguru must know everything about Satoru. Everything about what he likes, about how to dissolve him into a pleading mess of want. You want to learn. You want to please them both. You want to learn from them.

But you just watch, for now.

You rub your thighs together subconsciously when they both sigh in unison as Suguru bottoms out. Their breaths are heavy against each other, silenced when he kisses Satoru harshly in contrast to his slow, purposeful thrusts. The fondness, the love between them is palpable in the way they gaze at each other. As if you aren’t even there- as if they are the only two stars in the entire sky of the universe. It wouldn’t be fair to the scales of the universe for there to be two pairs of lovers like them.

You wish to be the exception. You will be the exception.

“Touch yourself,” Suguru grunts from the bed, looking at you over his shoulder. You make an attempt to crawl closer to him but he stops you abruptly. “No, you’ll stay there and you’ll touch yourself. Let us see you.”

Their hands are interlocked and desire washes over you in a tidal wave. He turns away to give his attention to Satoru but you lift the skirt of your robe up to your waist to give them both a full view of your wetness.

You clench around nothing, wishing desperately to take Suguru in your mouth or press your pussy to Satoru’s lips. Instead you rub your clit in time with Suguru’s thrusts, watching his hips roll. Satoru’s moans are loud and raspy, calls of his lover’s name, please, please, please, more…

“Watch her,” Suguru hisses, his hair in disarray as he shoves Satoru’s face towards you. You gasp when both of them watch you together, watching as you shove your finger deep into your pussy, the sound of squelching mixing together and bouncing off the walls.

You’re quiet in your corner of the room, obediently waiting for Suguru to beckon you closer. For him to grant you a small touch, however fleeting. But he never does, and you are desperate for their attention. For an ounce of their shared love to drip onto your heated skin.

“O-ohhh-”

Your clit throbs as Satoru’s moans get louder and louder, breathier and breathier and Suguru is concentrated on how his cock pushes into Satoru effortlessly, how effortless it’s been for decades but it feels like a millenia- and if there is a god- this is the salvation he’d pray for-

He cums with a broken moan, his chest heaving but continues to push into Satoru as he murmurs sweet nothings to him. They both turn their eyes to you, you who is currently rubbing yourself furiously as if you’re racing against time. Your eyelids are hazy, clouded over with lust. You listen so well. You hadn’t even moved an inch from where Suguru had told you to stay.

“Come here, darling,” Suguru coos, “What a good girl. Do you want a kiss?”

You nod eagerly and all but crawl to him and sit in front of him on your knees, waiting patiently.

“Good girls get kisses,” he replies, “Come here, next to me.”

Satoru pushes back on Suguru, trying to fuck himself on his cock but to no avail. Suguru places a warning hand on his hip to stop him. He kisses you, a chaste peck. It’s not enough for you, but he gives you a meaningful glance. Telling you to listen to him.

You lean forward to give Satoru a kiss and before you can deepen it, Suguru tells you that’s enough.

“No touching,” he clicks his tongue, “Touch yourself while Satoru cums. Show him how much you like it when he cums, sweetheart. Doesn’t he look good like this?”

You nod vigorously with warmth pooling in your cheeks. Suguru’s hair is in disarray, long strands falling from his messily made bun onto his forehead. He moves gracefully, a painter with his paintbrush as he strokes against Satoru. He is Suguru’s canvas.

Your chest tightens at the stars barely concealed in his meteor eyes.

Satoru’s gaze is hooded and heady, concentrated only on the man hovering above him as his hair falls onto his skin. Your fingers are warm against your thighs, but you prefer the coldness of theirs.

Suguru pushes his angel hair away from his forehead and murmurs for him to sing for him. To sing for you. His moans rise in pitch with every stroke- you can’t stop the way you look longingly where they are connected. Each tense muscle in his body is soothed by the other’s gentle but firm touch. It’s a delicate dance, one that Suguru has barred you from partaking in.

Your fingers wander, languidly rubbing circles on your clit, entranced by the ripple of muscles and the sheen layer of sweat on skin. The connection of two lovers is a sight that you are blessed to witness. You want to drink them in, be drenched in their love for each other- for you.

“What a patient girl,” comes a silky voice from next to you, “Why don’t you let us have you now?”

Suguru laughs when you nod your head vigorously. Like an enthusiastic puppy wanting her owner’s attention.

“I want you both,” you say impatiently, pawing at them both,“Together-”

“Let’s give the girl what she wants,” Satoru says, still catching his breath as he lays flat on the bed.

You are met only with hungry eyes and salacious smiles.

The moon hangs above for prolonged hours as the night begins earlier and earlier. It must be nearing the winter, you think. Frost clings to the air like stars in the sky, but you don’t mind it. Not when you’re there to keep both Satoru and Suguru warm.

Despite the winter fast approaching, you still hear the faint sound of rolling thunder.

“That’s enough,” Suguru murmurs, pulling away from your wrist gently as he licks drops of your sweet blood.

“Are you certain?” you ask, despite feeling a bit lightheaded.

“Yes, darling. You’d let me have you, wouldn’t you?” he coos, as if he is speaking to a newborn deer. Your lips part into a wide, bashful smile as you bat your eyelashes at him.

“My sweetest girl,” he says, pressing his lips to your jaw. You laugh airily at the sensation, pretending to push him back with a hand on his firm chest.

“I would give you all the blood you wanted,” you reply, “You only want my blood, right?”

“Is validation from me what you seek?” Suguru teases you.

Your voice is so full of hope, eyes shining with reverence as you wait for an answer. How far would you walk for him? Just to the edge of the universe? Would you fall over the precipice with him? Would you look over your shoulder before jumping if he told you to?

Judging by the way you shove your wrist in his face, he thinks he has his answer. Your skin is dotted with fading bite marks, some fresh and some old. You wear them with pride, uncaring if anyone sees. Not that there is anyone to see you, besides Gojo Satoru and himself.

The soft smile that uncurls on your face when Suguru’s eyes shift from a calm purple to charcoal and veins abruptly appear under his eyes as he feeds on you is enthralling. No feeling will equate to his soft whimpers as the first drop of your blood enters his circulatory system.

That’s all he is, anyway. A mess of blood and an undead heart thoughtlessly arranged together with frayed red strings in a puzzle where the pieces don’t fit. But somehow, you fit. You and Satoru both fit in different places.

No feeling, not even the memories of your formerly known lover, can make you feel as desired as Geto Suguru drinking your blood as if you are the last living, breathing thing on the planet.

Suguru gives you beautiful gowns and glittery jewels to adorn on your neck and your ears. All you need to give him is your blood and he’ll indulge you with his undivided attention.

“I desire you,” he mumbles, kissing your cupid’s bow, “Your mind,” a kiss to your forehead, “Your company,” a kiss to your palm, “Your body,” a kiss to your clothed chest, “Your soul,” a final lingering kiss to your bruised wrist.

“Oh,” you say sheepishly. Suguru can feel your lashes flutter against his cheek.

“Shall I prove it to you?”

He grins wolfishly, determined to indulge in every inch of you.

“Oh, I almost forgot,” Satoru says with food in his mouth, “A cop came by earlier. He was asking about a certain abandoned car about two miles from here.”

Satoru’s eyes shift to you, piercing and intense but you don’t meet his gaze.

“That’s so…interesting,” you mutter, “Who would come out this far and just dump their car? How weird…”

“Someone trying to leave something behind, maybe?” Suguru suggests knowingly, his eyes equally as piercing as Satoru’s.

You avoid both of their pointed gazes and take a long swig of red wine.

The silence suffocates you, but you don’t relent. They don’t need to know your secret, the one that you’ll carry with you until your dying breath. The real reason for your abrupt departure from your home, the perceived carelessness of throwing your car keys out in the mud on the forest floor for anyone to find. All for the simple hope of salvation in this sea of trees.

Instead of salvation, you’ve found eternal damnation with the immortal vampire Geto Suguru and ever living ghost Gojo Satoru. It’s still far better than the unfortunate alternative that awaited you in your former life.

You play with the emerald necklace seated at the base of your neck. A gift, of course, from the two ethereal beings sitting in front of you. Your lip nearly bleeds from how tightly you hold it between your teeth, debating whether you should tell them or not.

Not today.

“We need to know who is looking for you,” Satoru says firmly.

“Why? So you can hand me over to them all wrapped up in a bow? Or so that you can exile me from your home?” you challenge petulantly. Suguru narrows his eyes in your direction and you swear they flash an angry red. You try not to feel small in your seat and hold your head high.

“Don’t you dare imply that either of us would give you up so easily,” he all but hisses, “Do not insult me.”

“Besides, don’t you think we should know why the cops are knocking on our door asking about your abandoned car?” Satoru chimes in with a barely concealed smirk, “And how stupid do you think we are? To not know that that abandoned car was yours?”

Your eyes land on your hands in your lap and you sigh, the burden of your former life weighing heavily in your throat.

“You will banish me if I tell you,” you say, “I can’t handle it if you tell me to leave. There is nowhere for me to go.” Your words are sincere as you cave into yourself.

“Of course we wouldn't, sweetheart,” Satoru coos, coming around the table to sit next to you. He places a lithe, translucent finger under your chin and forces you to look at him. Uncertainty dances in your dark eyes but you’re unable to break the trance that he has placed you under.

“Maybe I’ll tell you later,” you mumble.

“How very mysterious of you,” Satoru teases you, patting your hair without a care in the world.

“We’re only asking so we can protect you if we need to,” Suguru offers. Heat blooms in your chest at his firm admission. Of course, they’d protect you. After all, this house is a lighthouse in the storm.

Today, you've forgotten to check if the rain continues to fall outside.

The garden behind this castle of a house is flourishing and colorful, filled with flowers and blooms that you have never seen before. A sea of reds, pinks, blues and greens bursts in your eyes. To think, you’ve never seen the garden before. In fact, when was the last time you stepped outside?

You have not seen the sun in days, weeks, months, perhaps. But you feel the warmth of the sun whenever you lay between Satoru and Suguru.

But the breeze is refreshing against your face as it threads through your hair.

You look over the treeline, at the tallest trees that seem to pierce the stormy, grey sky. The rain has not begun for the day yet, but you suspect it will soon. It’s heavy in the air, palpable against your skin. If you reach out into the empty space, you’re certain you could collect raindrops into your hands.

A shiver trembles down your spine as the frosty air whips your face. Perhaps the rain will turn to snow soon. You always did love the snow. The silence of a fresh, bright snowfall where everything is as still as the night

Despite the approaching winter chill, the flowers in the garden are flourishing as if it’s the middle of springtime. You never really appreciated the springtime flowers in the past. But maybe because you never noticed, never took the time to smell the roses.

The tiny pond centered in the garden is as motionless as the air that chokes you with silence. Lotus flowers float mindlessly from one side of the pond to the other. You’ve never seen so many lotuses in one place before. It’s beautiful and rather ominous.

Time does not move in this patch of the forest. You’re forced to stand still along with the magic of the house, the symphony of the storm. Is it the magic of the house, or is it the vampire and the ghost who live inside the house?

Does it matter?

You sigh heavily, picking at your cuticles as you lose yourself in your thoughts. Your coat is heavy around your shoulders. Are they watching you in the windows? Wondering why you’ve left them alone in the house, why you’re sitting outside all alone?

Will they come find you? What would it take for them to come crawling to you, begging for your attention? Perhaps a deep cut on your wrist with the sharpened end of the gate surrounding the backyard, a scrape of your knees-

A whoosh of air wraps around your face in a firm caress but it’s not the wind, it’s more warm and comforting. You feel something being placed gently into your hair- a red spider lily.

You hide your smile.

The breeze feels like the curl of lithe fingers around your cheek, invisible but heavy against your skin. You sense Satoru’s touch but you still play coy, pretending like you don’t notice him pawing at your clothes.

You can’t see him, but you can feel him. His hands pushing the collar of your coat to lick up the column of your throat. Cold breaths against your ear as his teeth graze your earlobe.

It’s playful, teasing- you can nearly hear his laughter. Until it’s not anymore, and you find yourself on your back in the grass. Staring at the stormy sky, despite the column of sunlight illuminating you.

You wonder if Suguru is watching. You hope he is.

His hands are nimble, an out of body experience, as your blouse becomes unbuttoned and tossed to the side. With a shaky breath, you try to feel for him, wanting to touch his chest or press your lips to his-

But he doesn’t allow you to, only allowing you to be at his mercy as he holds your chest in his unseen hands. You look down in interest as your own flesh is kneaded by the concealed force that is Gojo Satoru. His touch is searing, heavenly and goosebumps rise on your neck as the pressure of his hips presses against yours. Your skirt is suddenly flipped upwards in a flurry of impatience as he pulls you closer to him. To close the gap between life and the afterlife- to tip you towards the latter.

A moan parts through the veil and settles deep in your belly as warmth bursts. You are sensitive to the plush grass against your back, against your bare thighs- your skirt has been pulled off and you lay unclothed in the garden. Like izanami herself, you lay with only the elements to witness as the unearthly being on top of you parts your knees lewdly.

He stares at your wetness as your legs part open- after all, divine intervention sits at the apex of your thighs and he wants a taste. He wants to see the great light, or whatever comes next, in your eyes as his teeth brush against your inner thighs. Satoru tastes honey once he moves your hands aside. You can’t hide from him- you can’t hide from something you cannot see. He is hungry for you, hungry to devour you, hungry for you to give in fully to him. To be absolutely and fully open to him and bare your entire soul to the deepest, dead parts of him.

Your gasps are slight, barely heard breaths as he licks you with fervor. In between your legs is Satoru, grinding into the dewy grass in time with the rise and fall of your chest. You throw your head back when Satoru pushes two translucent fingers into you, your slick coating his skin.

You smell ravishing, the pulse of your heart a song in his ears. No wonder Suguru nearly drained you dead the other day.

Satoru groans when you wrap your legs around his hips. It’s not surprising that you intuitively know exactly where he starts and ends. To your eyes, you see nothing but open space in front of you. But you feel his distorted lines pinned against you, pushing you further into the earth.

He wants to savor the image of your parted lips and half-lidded eyes, the heat on your cheeks as he strokes himself and pushes into you. The noise that leaves your throat goes straight to his cock. Do you enjoy being full like this? Stuffed full of his cock and not being able to see it? See him?

“Faster, Satoru,” you mumble, looking straight at his six eyes, “Faster-oh!”

Careful what you ask for. He grins at you wildly, pushing his chest down to yours. He could spit into your mouth if he wanted, it would be so easy to let his spit slide into your wet, warm mouth. Your body jolts with every thrust, tightening as he rubs your clit and spreads your wetness sloppily.

A pearly sheen of sweat coats your sweet skin and if you could see him now, the wolfish look in his eyes would be shining in yours. He presses down against your bottom lip with a ghostly thumb, groaning when you whimper into the open air. It’s quickly silenced when he pushes his finger into your mouth harshly as surprise melts into heat in your eyes.

Satoru can feel Suguru’s eyes on you both, laid out in the grass. He wonders if you can, too.

The slope of your neck is enticing and he must sink his teeth into you. With a breathy gasp, you shudder and clench your walls around him as you cum abruptly. He grins crookedly at you, not that you can see it. You squeeze around him like a velvety vice. Your eyes are mischievous as you roll your hips against him. The rise and fall of your chest is tantalizing- his hand moves of its own volition to wrap around your neck loosely.

As if you are a goddess with a chain to keep you tethered to the earth, to him, you look directly into his eyes and smile.

His hips stutter as he loses rhythm before he pushes into you and stills completely. Satoru whines your name brokenly in your ear before he cums loudly and triggers you to cum once more. You feel full and heavy, sated with the feeling of his thick, gooey cum pooling and mixing with your own wetness.

His eyes widen when you let your hand graze downwards to rub yourself. You taste him on your lips; tangy and sweet. Your smile is lewd, like you’re proud of yourself for seducing him in the open garden with your bare body and honey eyes.

Your skin glistens with the dewy grass that you have claimed to be your bed as the selective sun forms a patch around your head like a halo. In truth, Satoru feels unholy in the way he looks at you, thinks about you.

He drops his head low to kiss you once more, driven by the desire to paint you with himself. To paint brushstrokes of his devotion on every inch of your skin.

It’s so simple to give in to his kiss. To dive into him without worrying about how far the jump is or how far off the cliff you’ll go. You trust that he will catch you, even if you can’t see him.

He is still unseen to you, but your hands are flat against his taut chest as you maneuver yourself on top of him. You throw your head back as you welcome him inside, your wetness coating him like a salve.

Your hips move of their own accord and Satoru lays back to let you take control of him. You lean down to kiss him but your lips hover. As if you want to say something.

This garden of Eden will hear your secrets and here they shall die, you decide. Nothing seems so terrible with the way he fits inside you. You want to give him your mind, body, and soul.

And with this declaration you will. You rotate your hips, coming down on him gently at a slow pace before picking up again. His hands stay idle on your hips as you finally say something-

“I killed him,” you say softly, wrapping your arms around his neck.

You can’t hear him, and you don’t need to.

“My husband. We just…it fell apart!” you pant, bouncing faster, “what was a girl to do?”

“He never loved me! Never wanted me. Never paid attention to me,” you whisper, “so I killed him. And I ran away. I just wanted to be his one and only…”

“I killed him and you found me,” you sigh breathlessly, moving an arm away to rub your clit furiously. The words have never been said out loud and the secret that remains between you and him has you squeezing around him tightly. “I wish you had been there to see it, Satoru-“

He finishes loudly, without warning and you keep rolling your hips. He pushes your hand away to replace your fingers and rubs you until you finish with him.

You fall onto his invisible chest and sigh happily. He stays unseen, running a hand over your bare back and feeling the mix of your cum and his of you both leaking out of you and onto him. Your words are the words of a lover, confessions and shy smiles bursting at the seam of your lips and into his.

It must be alright, if a gentle spring breeze caresses your back.

Satoru looks at you in awe- how frightened you must have been when you had realized what you’d done. And through all of the strife and turmoil, you still came to him.

That must be divine intervention. After all, he only planned for you to be a momentary blood bag for his lover until your inevitable decay.

The openness of the house, the wall to wall windows, the way the breeze floats inside and coats the house in a gentle chill despite the ongoing storm outside, is comforting to you now. Rather than eerie as it was days ago. Days? Weeks? Months?

An invisible weight is lifted from your chest, one that you didn’t know even existed since you drove away in a frenzy on that cold, rainy night. The memories are almost too painful, but the newfound freedom tastes sweet on your tongue.

“Will you keep me waiting much longer, darling?” Suguru whispers, tracing your cheek with a long finger. You lean into his icy touch and he smiles at you.

Lifting the skirt of your midnight blue robe, he caresses your thigh and smacks it lightly. His grin widens when you yelp and laugh. Oh, he’ll have so much fun with you. What an excitable thing you are, completely defying any expectations he had of you only to enjoy your time in this castle.

A prison without a fence. He expects you won’t try to leave for a long, long time. Not when it took you all of the drama of a poor husband for you to leave in your prior life.

Yes, you are starting a new life, as you’ve indicated to him in the confines of his bedroom before. A new life with him and Satoru, one where you will be free. As free as the rain that falls from the sky.

Your soul is vulnerable, exposed for him to read whenever he desires. All Suguru sees is pure longing and fear. Fear that you will be abandoned once more.

It doesn’t matter. Suguru will make it so that your wishes are fulfilled forever. And once forever ends and you are nothing but an afterthought in his everlasting life, he will be sure to scatter your ashes in the lake by the house.

He will remember you fondly as the girl who killed to find a home in him. But ultimately, this story will not conclude with you in it. No matter how sweet your blood tastes or how you bat your eyelashes at him to get your way or how endearing he finds you as you list out trivial history facts from a time period he never lived in, not even how warm your pussy feels right after he cums inside you-

None of that matters, except for right now. Right now, when you reach for him with warm hands and look at him as if he is not a bloodthirsty creature, but as if he hung the moon in the sky.

“Make you wait? I’d never,” you reply with bright eyes, shifting against the cool sheets to press yourself closer to him. Your eyes flutter in pleasure when he pulls the knot of your robe loose from your waist. He pushes the robe to the side, leaving you open and exposed to him. Suguru purrs against your skin, the noise vibrating against your bare chest. He lifts his head as his eyes turn red and black veins form on his face.

He’s hungry.

Suguru lifts your wrist to his lips, pressing delicate kisses to the still bruised skin there. Most of the bruises have faded by now, anyway, with fresh ones blooming elsewhere. He remembers where each one is- your thighs, your chest, your neck… You don’t bother with covering them, not anymore. Not since you’ve fully accepted the castle in the forest as your home.

His tongue is gentle as he allows his fangs to elongate and brush against the skin of your wrist, like he is asking for permission.

With a soft gasp, you feel his sharpened teeth pierce your skin as he messily drinks from your vein like a man starved. In truth, he has been starved over the last few decades. Starved of a sweetness like you.

In over one hundred years, he can only remember Satoru’s blood tasting so decadent. Filling him up with a sudden unquenched thirst. Suguru wants more of you- and you know it.

He lets go of your wrist, lapping any extra blood that angrily pours out of the small puncture wound with his tongue. With a comforting rub of your skin, he presses kisses down your torso, taking his time in enjoying how you squirm in his tight grasp. Your body moves in waves against his hold, moving with his push and pull.

The familiar pierce of his canines brushes against the fragile skin of your inner thigh, one of his favorite places to drink from. He says he can taste all of your feelings in that exact spot. Suguru doesn’t care about the guttural noises that rip from his throat as he drinks from you, careful to ensure that you don’t nearly faint from blood loss. Again.

Warmth blooms in your belly, uncurling like fairy wings to envelope you in comfort. But really, it’s Suguru’s touch, his mouth, how loved he makes you feel. He says he’s never had blood like yours before and you believe him. You push his head further with your free hand, encouraging him to take more from you.

But he pulls away, blood dripping from his teeth down his chin and onto his chest. You pull him on top of you for a sharp kiss, smearing your own blood on your lips. He tastes metallic with the taste of your blood down his throat. You want to devour him, to see how you taste in his eyes. You never want him to stop looking at you the way he does- as his prized possession, his favorite girl.

“There have been so many women,” Suguru coos, “Has Satoru told you? But you are the only one who stayed.” He drags lithe fingers over your chest, only to use his long nails to cut you. It’s not very deep, but you watch in wonder as ruby red blood blooms on your skin.

He uses his thumb to paint your blood over your skin only to press his finger to your lips and wordlessly tell you to suck.

“You stayed because you love us,” he says in a honeyed voice, “Good girls should be rewarded for their loyalty.”

Suguru reaches over to his nightstand where he pulls out a silver dagger encrusted with jewels. You stare at him as he places it carefully into your hands. What does he want you to do with this?

It dawns on you when you look at the angry lines on your chest. You sit up on your haunches and smile at him, enamored that he entrusts you to this degree.

You hold the dagger, trying to get comfortable with the feel of such a heavy metal in your hands. It’s a foreign weight, necessary for the foreign task that your lover has for you.

“Right here?” you ask quietly, your hand on his chest where you expect his heart would beat.

“Wherever you’d like, darling.”

With no hesitation, you allow the surface of the blade to pierce Suguru’s skin. Dark, burgundy droplets fall from the cut and trickle down his torso. With wide eyes, you look at him, asking him what to do. Instead, he laughs at you, curling a hand around your cheek.

“Is it not obvious?”

He gathers the blood from the cut onto his finger and presses it to your lips once more. You swallow instantly with doe eyes- you will always take whatever he gives you. But you surprise him when you lean forward and press your lips to the blood on his torso and lick, whimpering with each swallow of his blood in your circulatory system.

“Come here, sweetheart,” Suguru says, petting your hair, “Good girl. Do you want more?”

With darkened lips and eager eyes, you nod vigorously. Wanting nothing more than to please him. He takes the dagger back from you and cuts a much deeper wound into his chest, wincing as he does so.

“There you go,” he says, throwing his head back when you latch onto him and drink his blood. It comes to you so easily. The urge to please.

Strangely enough, he tastes like ripened cherries. His moans are soft as you drink from him as you please. He owns you now, whether you realize it or not. Now that you’ve drunk his blood, he is a part of you now.

Until he decides otherwise.

In your new home, you have created the perfect life. You are cherished and desired, not needing to hide the ugly truths about yourself to Suguru and Satoru. You see them with rosy hearts in your eyes, convinced that they have accepted you the way that they have accepted each other.

You refuse to let any seeds of doubt fester. Will they tire of you, the way your husband did? Will they say that you’re too needy, too demanding of their attention?

The words are familiar in your mind but they look at you as if they are enthralled by you. No, you are a part of them as much as they are a part of you. You try your hardest to quell your rising, unfounded fears. It’s you, not them, you convince yourself. It’s you, not them.

Suguru and Satoru are already in the library, waiting for you to join them on the barely sat-in leather couch.

You read your book in silence, the same three paragraphs burned into your eyelids. You can’t focus, not when the two men next to you try to vye for your attention. Despite their lips on your neck and their sweet, seductive words… There is a buzzing in your head that you can’t seem to shake away. It gnaws at you and gnaws at you, even as you succumb to their touches. Even as they drape themselves over you and pull sweet sounds from your throat.

Why don’t they look at you the way they did before? Are you imagining the look of disgust in Satoru’s eyes as he undresses you? Is the boredom on Suguru’s face an unfounded figment of your imagination?

You are desperate for them, for them to bury themselves in you and build a home inside you. For them to keep you and never let you go. With a harsh kiss and bite to their lips, you seal your fate of your own accord.

In the thick of the frigid winter, the seasons change. It no longer downpours everyday- instead, snow covers the forest. Completely untouched and pure in a delicate, white blanket that cradles the earth.

The cold nips at your cheeks as you step outside the castle on the hill. You are dressed only in a thin black robe that rustles with the icy wind. With barren feet, you step into the snow. Hardly registering the way your blood cools with each step or how your teeth begin to shatter.

Despite the clean scent of snow in the air, you still catch the lingering scent of rain.

Loose deep red rose petals that you hold in your arms taint the pristine white snow as if they were drops of blood. The plant life still somehow thrives even in the wintry weather.

It is so quiet, with each step you take hardly making a sound. The world is still as you make your way over to the nearly frozen over darkened lake. It glitters with the pale sun, almost blinding you but you remain undeterred.

It is a chance for rebirth. Revenge. Or is it redemption?

You dip your foot in the lake first. Then, you close your eyes and surrender to the unknowing abyss with nothing more than a silent splash.

Melted snow coats the earth you walk on when your eyes open once more. It must be days later that you breathe the dry air and emerge from the depths of the lake, your robe soaking wet and sticking to your clammy skin.

But you do not feel the cold, nor do you need to breathe air. It’s a leftover reflex from the person you were not even a full week ago.

The door to the castle on the hill is the same as the first day you saw it. When you were running away from your old life. Here you are, embracing your new one.

You knock on the door gently. Once, then twice.

You are met with wide, surprised celestial eyes. Only offering him a grin in return.

“What did you do?” Satoru hisses, yanking you inside by your forearm. He senses the difference in you already, the darkened energy coating your bloodstream. Your heart does not beat at all and your canines have become sharpened fangs in your mirthless smile. Your hands are cold when you paw at his chest. He’s used to cold hands, but yours are unforgiving. A threat when your nails nearly pierce through his skin.

Most of all, blood stains your skin and your teeth when you smile widely at him. Some of it is fresh, still dripping down your neck and some of it is dried along the curve of your jaw and your chest. It reminds him of a lost, wounded wolf. It’s jarring, the sweet smile he is used to is sinister and unforgiving.

It doesn’t suit you, and yet this is what you have chosen. Your laughter is grating in his finely tuned ears, reminiscent of a curse. Is that what this is? Is that what you have become? An immortal curse?

He ignores the trepidation crawling on his skin. Satoru can’t exactly slam the door in your face, can he?

“Come, lover. Let’s find Suguru,” you say with bright eyes, “We have much to catch up on.”

“You were supposed to be nothing but a blood bag for Suguru,” Satoru seethes, “Look what you’ve done-”

“No, please, I did this for you,” you wail, tugging on his shirt, “I want this forever. Don’t you want the same? You said you did!” Doesn’t he see you? Doesn’t he see how much you crave him?

“Enough,” comes Suguru’s voice from behind Satoru. He looks at you, running a thumb over the blood on your skin. Then at the silent, unmoving lake.

He closes his eyes for half a second and sighs, ignoring Satoru’s very purposeful glare at his head.

“I did it for you, Suguru,” you whimper, relaxing when he gathers you in his arms and strokes your hair. He says nothing, instead raising his eyes to meet Satoru’s. Two vampires in the same forest? A newborn vampire, at that?

Suguru is tempted to stake you for your naivete, but refrains from doing so. Sheer bloodlust is what got them into this mess, after all.

“We’ll figure it out,” he says into your hair, but he means for Satoru to hear it, “Don’t you worry about a thing.”

The sun sets in brushstrokes on the world, but not on you.

#stsg x reader #geto x reader #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satosugu x reader #geto suguru x reader #jjk x reader

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restinslices · 16 days

Note

I liked the Twilight Lin Keui thingy idk if u watched Succession or Avatar the Last Airbender but can u do tomas,kuai liang and bi hans reaction to either of those shows and who their faves are?bi han is so azula coded

Off topic but do y’all make music playlists for y’all Ocs too? Shit is incredibly relaxing.

Bi-Han

You're so right about him being Azula coded

Azula has to be his favorite character too. I refuse to take any criticism

I think when Bi-Han watches anything he's probably on the villains side because sometimes they be spitting. They just have very harsh methods to go about these plans

His favorite season I think would be season 2

Why? Ozai’s Angels obviously

Season 3 is their downfall and season 2 is when they're all in their prime

Plus the Ba Sing Se plot is something I can see him liking

“See? Liu Kang is just like the king! Incompetent!”

Incorrect but that's an interesting theory

He's such an Azula defender. He just like me fr

Least favorite character? I wanna say possibly Commander Zhao because “how are you a Commander but you're terrible at your job?”

But I also wanna say Ozai

He could be his least favorite character because ya know, he's an abusive and manipulative sack of shit that turned his children against each other

But he might understand his ambition and need to continue his family's legacy

Depends on his mood ig

One of those people that saw Kyoshi for the 0.5 seconds she was on screen and immediately thought “that's my favorite Avatar”

As a kid he crushed on Ozai's Angels

Because of the clothes alone he wanted to be apart of the Fire Nation but power wise we know that wouldn't have happened

Oh the brainwashing of the citizens? That's unfortunate, but at least they're dressed amazing

Pro Hama. She did nothing wrong.

Thought blue fire was the coolest shit ever and thought Kuai Liang was ass because his shit is boring ass orange

His favorite episodes are the season finales because it wraps everything up well and that's when the tension is extremely high

In order it's The Crossroads of Destiny, Sozin's Comet (places 2nd because Azula lost) then The Siege of the North

As a little bonus his favorite tale in The Tales of Ba Sing Se is The Tale of Toph and Katara

Why do I think this? I think he likes the characters and also he enjoys watching little shits get what they deserve (the mean girls that insulted Toph)

Kuai Liang

So we're all agreeing that he definitely had a huge crush on Suki, right?

His love for female warriors that could put him on his ass started with Suki then he ends up marrying Harumi

She's a warrior right?

Doesn't matter. She'll be dead in the next game anyway. MOVING ON-

Bi-Han wants to be apart of the Fire Nation and Kuai Liang wants to be apart of the water tribes

As a kid he really wanted blue fire but it never happened

Favorite characters I think would be Suki, Toph and Zuko

He loves all of them but these are his top 3

His favorite season is season 3 because it's the season that wraps up this amazing show from his childhood and it's done beautifully

Favorite episode I think would be Boiling Rock

It's the start of Azula's downfall and come on y'all, we saw Suki, Sokka and Zuko team up. Shit was fire (no pun intended)

He also likes The Beach because it emphasizes how broken the villains are and shows that at the end of the day, they were children robbed of a childhood

Gets the appeal of Zutara but is a Kataang shipper

Despises Ozai because of what he did to his kids and his people

Honestly fuck Sozin, Azulon and Ozai

“Your people didn't deserve to live in my world!” shocked his little heart because damn, you still ain't got no remorse?

He watches this show very often as he grows up. It's never a show he forgets about

Also fuck Long Feng

Forget all the brainwashing, it's keeping Appa that pushed him over the edge

Definitely showing this show to his kids

Too bad they won't live long enough to share it with their own children-

I'm done. Sorry

Favorite tale is The Tale of Iroh

Because… Iroh

Do I need to explain?

Tomas

Probably had a crush on Katara

I have no reasoning as to why. Like, with Kuai Liang it makes sense with who he marries later, but with Tomas I'm just “yeah that makes sense”

Heavily disagrees with people who call her annoying

Yeah, she has her moments but she's not this terrible character

As a child he was jealous of Aang because he got her in the end

Yeah Tomas, just ignore the genocide of his people and the trauma he has-

You FOR SURE wanna be him

Jealousy aside, he really likes Aang. I can see Aang being his favorite Avatar

Sokka is also a character he loves

Tbh I think he loves everyone in the Gaang and while his favorite character is Katara, his second favorite switches from time to time

Favorite season is season 1 because it kicks off this fantastic part of his childhood

Unlike his brothers, he was fine with the element he has

Yeah, he's smoke and not really an airbender but it's close enough

Minus the genocide, they were living a good life (which is a wild ass sentence)

Knows all the ATLA conspiracies

“Did you guys know there's a conspiracy that Ty Lee is a descendent of Air Nomads?”

“Did you guys hear this theory that Yue was supposed to be the Avatar after Aang but because he was in the ice she never got the Avatar spirit and that's why she needed the moon to live?”

“Do y'all think Sozin and Roku were hunching?”

Skips the Appa's Lost Days episode

Favorite episode is The Cave of Two Lovers because it makes him laugh

Everyone hates Ozai but you wanna know who's really on his shit list?

That old bitch that snitched on Haru

Kill him immediately

The live action movie filled him with such a rage, he didn't know it was possible

And because of that, he hasn't seen the live action show yet

His favorite tale is The Tale of Sokka

Why? It's just Sokka being a goober

#mk1 #mk1 2023 #mortal kombat 1 #bi han sub zero #bi han #kuai liang scorpion #kuai liang #tomas vrbada smoke #kuai liang mk1 #mk1 bi han #tomas vrbada #tomas vrbada mk1 #bi han headcanons #kuai liang headcanons #tomas vrbada headcanons #mk1 headcanons #lin kuei brothers #atla

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yanphobia · 1 year

Text

Cleithrophobia - Chapter 10

Cleithrophobia: The fear of being trapped.

Pairing: Yandere Male Drider OC x Reader

Warnings (for the entire story): Yandere, Horror, Graphic Discriptions of Injury and Death, Spiders, NonCon Touching, Possible NonCon (depending on reader's interpretation), Implied Female Reader (although it doesn't really factor too heavily into the plot), Extreme Dead Dove Do Not Eat

Chapter 9 Index Chapter 11

Author's Note: I am so, so sorry that it took this long for the chapter to come out! I've been struggling with my mental health and I've been avoiding darker topics like yandere until I was feeling better. But anyway... We're finally reaching the end of our tale! There's one more chapter + an epilogue after this, which I've already began writing. As always, thank you for your support and enjoy!

This story was inspired by cobalt-sphinx's Drider x Reader from Quotev.

If coming here earlier in the night was difficult, then returning was tortuous. You had to focus on whatever self-soothing methods you had learned as you made your way to the clearing. To face him, you would need to be brave, resourceful, clever, and calm. I don’t have to actually make a deal with him, you reminded yourself. I just have to let him think that I will until we can take him down.

You glanced over at Laura, diligently holding onto your arm like you ordered her to. She had a righteous sort of fury in her eyes, but you doubted that she would stay this brave once she saw what Mars looked like. You had to hope that she wouldn’t panic and make things worse.

You glanced up at the night sky and sighed. You had left your lantern at the spot in your haste to get away, but ironically the night sky was so beautiful and clear tonight that you didn’t even need it.

Each step resounded in your head as the clearing came into view. Your throat was so tight that unfortunately your voice cracked when you announced your arrival.

“Mars? It’s me! It’s [Y/N]!” You called out.

No response. But by now you were aware of his ability to stay hidden, and you swore that you could feel him nearby. Taking a step closer to the entrance of the clearing, you tried again.

“Mars, I know you’re here!” You wouldn’t fall for his trap. You wouldn’t enter the clearing and leave yourself vulnerable. But, as you soon found out, you didn’t have to.

Right as you finished speaking, you felt something wet drip onto your forehead. Looking up, you saw Stan’s body suspended high in the trees, his lifeless face illuminated by the moon. His eyes, frozen in shock, stared past you and into eternity. Blood was dripping from the massive gash in his torso, down his twisted neck, past his face and down to the forest floor below. The webs holding him up were stained a dark crimson and reality hit you like a train.

There was never any deal to be made. Mars had decided, once and for all, to act upon the threats that he had been making from the day he met you. He was out for blood, both yours and your loved ones, and you had mistakenly offered yourself and Laura up to him.

Your scream was drowned out by Laura’s cry of anguish. Recklessly, she ran out into the clearing and began shooting blindly into the darkness.

“Get out here, you son of a bitch!” She cried out. “I’ll kill you! I’ll fucking kill you!”

“Laura!” you screamed. “Don’t go out there!” You darted into the clearing and grabbed her roughly, dragging her with you as you ran away to what you believed would be safety. You went back to your original plan from earlier – hide in the house until help arrives. You rushed down the familiar path, heart pounding in your ears, until your feet suddenly stopped beneath you. The momentum caused you to lurch forward, slamming your chest against the ground painfully. You groaned in pain and forced yourself to get up, but without looking you could feel his trap webs holding your calves down. What was worse was realizing that you couldn’t hear Laura anymore, and when you looked behind your shoulder, you saw that you were entirely alone.

You screamed again, in frustration, and tried to pull yourself free.

“Mars! Don’t you dare hurt her!”

You looked forward just in time to see the large form of Mars materializing from the darkness, Laura’s body pressed against his. His pedipalps held her legs, one arm was stretched across her shoulders, and his other hand was gripping her scalp tightly, leaving her neck open and vulnerable. She was crying uncontrollably and her shotgun was nowhere to be found.

He was quiet as he approached, all of his red eyes staring at you with a thinly veiled fury.

“Mars,” you groveled, “please. Let her go... I’ll do anything you want, just let her go!”

“What I want,” he said, with a voice more emotionless than you had ever heard from anyone, “is to ruin your life like how you ruined mine.”

He snapped Laura’s head back further and within seconds he had sunk his fangs deep into the delicate muscles of her throat. She struggled, for an instant, with a wet gurgling sound that you knew would never be able to leave your mind, before Mars threw his head back, taking with him a mouthful of flesh and cartilage. Laura choked out as her blood sprayed out of her gash, coating both of them with it, and Mars maintained eye contact with you as he tossed her corpse to the side.

Then he began to approach you. You screamed, again, and thrashed in your spot, desperate to get as far away from him as humanly possible. When he reached you, he crawled straight over your body, forcing your back against the forest floor.

That was when he kissed you. His tongue forced its way into your mouth where you tasted Laura’s warm blood. His bloody hands snaked their way into your hair as his eyes fluttered closed in bliss. You had no other choice but to stay in place as he manhandled you, openly sobbing as you waited for it to be over. The worst part, you think, was that it didn’t feel like he was actively trying to hurt you.

Eventually, he ran out of breath. He stopped kissing you and simply rested his forehead against yours, just like your first meeting a lifetime ago. Your crying had subsided a bit as well, with you being too exhausted to continue. He breathed out your name, so quiet that you barely heard it, and you forced yourself to open your eyes. His remained closed, and there was a sort of peace over his features that shocked you. How could he possibly be content with himself after everything he had done?!

The two of you stayed there for a moment before he spoke again.

“[Y/N]… I lo-”

He was interrupted by the sounds of police sirens in the cruelest joke that nature could’ve ever played. His eyes snapped open as he looked to the source of the sound. You watched in abject terror as the realization of what you had planned to do dawned on his face, and immediately his rage returned. His hands grabbed your shoulders as he stood up, taking you with him. No matter how hard to struggled, you could not break free of his grasp.

“We’re going home.”

You cried out and struggled harder as he threw you over his shoulder and took off through the dark woods. He moved so quickly and so silently that you had to keep screaming in the vain hopes that the police would be able to track your location.

He continued to run, past your clearing and past his den, and you realized that he was taking you to the older one. No, that’s... that’s too far away! No one will ever find me there!

All of your pleas fell on deaf ears, and soon enough you were in the area where Mars had threatened to kill you before. The immense regret that you felt that all he had predicted had come to pass was the thing to truly break you. He stood before the entrance to his den and hoisted you up over his head. You looked up above to the stars, knowing that this will be the last time you ever saw them, before he unceremoniously threw you into the darkness below.

#yandere stories #yandere fiction #yandere #yandere x darling #yandere male #yandere drider #drider oc x reader #drider x reader #drider #tw yandere #yandere writing #yandere oc x reader #terato x reader #terato #cleithrophobia

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thatstarwarsbitch · 10 months

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Reddie Fic Recs

Okay so these are the ones I go back to and reread constantly!! All listed have multiple chapters, impeccable grammar/structure, and RIDICULOUSLY good characterization/dialogue. Theyre also all located on AO3. My obsession is too late for peak fandom interactions so these are what keep my hyper fixation alive.

1. In The Heat Of The Summer (You’re So Different From The Rest) by Kaboomslang

There’s a heatwave in L.A., the first time Richie sees Eddie naked.

One very hot year in the life of two idiots in love, working shit out.

It is so so so so fucking good I can’t stand it. It’s an Eddie Lives AU that is 15 Chapters and 109,525 words of pining and comfort and beauty. Eddie comes to stay with Richie in LA after the events of It Chapter 2. Literally my only complaint is that Stan stays dead however the characterization of everyone and the way the writer handles their grief more than made up for it.

2. A Strange Sense of Familiarity by Katranga

“So Eddie, what brings you to the bar tonight?" Richie asked. "Gonna rebound from the divorce? Pick up a hot young twenty-something to feel young again?”

“Fuck you,” Eddie said, jutting his chin forward. “What a terrible way to ruin the mood.”

“I’m sorry, all my moods are poorly cultivated. What mood were you looking for?”

A nervous lump grew in Eddie's throat. He threw back his drink to get rid of it.

Hand wrapped around the glass he’d just slammed back onto the bar, he said, “The mood that gets me leaving with a schlubby forty-something.”

Pre-chapter two, Eddie and Richie meet and don't remember each other, but have an instant connection anyway...

This may be my favorite fic of all time. This is a Canon Divergence AU where Richie and Eddie meet at a bar prior to the events of It Chapter 2 and start sleeping together. Eddie is divorced so there’s no infidelity storyline (which I appreciate) HOWEVER Richie is still famous and in the closet so there’s still the secret love affair storyline (that I love). The characterization is literally perfect, it has amazing dialogue, and my boy Stan is alive and involved. The OCs are so so good too and I’m beyond obsessed with all the thought the author obviously put into it.

3. Sweeter By The Hour by Katranga

rich. 25. i can be your angle 😇... or yuor devil 😈

Edward. 38. Please don’t call me daddy.

Richie’s a struggling standup comedian slash bartender with a side hustle of sexting rich guys for cash. Eddie is recently divorced, recently out, and reluctant to dive into either the dating or hookup scene. He decides to give Sugr, a 'dating app with no commitment', a shot.

Katranga NEVER MISSES. Even though the losers club is in a completely different universe, the characterization and dialogue is so them that it scratches every itch in my brain. This is such a funny and adorable AU I would recommend to anyone that needs a break from the high stress and extremely high stakes of the traditional It Universe.

4. Here In Your Arms by kaspbrak_kid

Richie had no idea what to expect when Stan and Patty asked him to be their daughter's godfather, but it definitely wasn't becoming the part-time dad to a newborn.

This fic makes me cry like a bitch in the best way possible. This is a several years later fic in a Eddie and Stan Lives AU where Richie becomes godfather to Stan and Patty’s firstborn. This is so so special to me because it perfectly preserves The Loser’s Club dynamics in a safe environment and gives me all the found family warm fuzzies I so desperately need. As usual the characterization is phenomenal and Richie and Eddie’s relationship throughout this fic is so so special to me.

5. Richie Tozier’s Five-Step Mission in Getting Over His Childhood Sweetheart by MissDinahDarling

Alternatively: five times Richie tries to get over Eddie and the one time he gets under him instead.

This fic is so so fucking funny I love everything about it. Its also a Stan and Eddie Live AU and thehe dialogue and losers club dynamics are so so funny. I love seeing little snippets of how the losers lives are moving on and especially appreciate that Bev and Ben didn’t move as quickly as some fics do. Richies denial and stupidity are so relatable and its an extremely comforting read.

6. River by Unicornpoe

The thing—the thing is that Eddie hasn’t seen Richie in nearly five years.

They’ve gotten good at avoiding each other. They alternate holidays and get-togethers, only showing up when they’re sure the other won’t be present. They’re still in the same fucking city but Eddie makes sure to shop on the other side of town from their old place where Richie still lives, makes sure not to go to any of Richie’s favorite restaurants or bars or cafes or goddamn park benches. Eddie doesn’t join in on the Losers’s group FaceTime sessions when he knows Richie’ll be joining, and Richie does the same for him.

They couldn’t make their relationship work, but they’re fucking experts at being exes.

Eddie goes to spend the holidays at Bill and Mike's cabin in Vermont, and is surprised when Richie is already there. Things get worse when they're snowed in alone. Things get even more worse when Eddie remembers that he's still in love with him.

This fic gives me the most acute sense of profound longing I’ve ever had in my life. The EXTREMELY angsty hurt/comfort au I’ve ever read in my life. Not extremely inclusive of the rest of The Losers Club, but it hits hard.

7. This Will Be (An Everlasting Love) by camerasparring

Just as the last car is passing them, Prince Charming makes a snuffling noise and Eddie freezes, still pressed on top of him. He’s suddenly aware of every single place they’re touching, and Eddie thanks the brutal Chicago cold - there’s no way he could pop a boner when it’s this freezing. God, he hates himself.

The man opens his eyes for a moment and looks directly into Eddie’s eyes. Eddie’s mouth hangs open. He tries to smile, but he doesn’t think he achieves it. Instead, he swallows and says:

“Merry Christmas.”

The guy passes back out without a word.

or, the While You Were Sleeping AU no one asked for. Set Christmas 1995 and the gang is late 20's/early 30's

I read this before ever even hearing of the movie While You Were Sleeping. While the movie is now one of my favorites, it is absolutely nothing compared to the hilarious romcom of this fic. Found family! Secrets! Drama! Stan the mother fucking man! It is so so good and gives me all the good feelings the holidays provide whenever I read it.

8. Scratch On The Moon by Vulcanodon

Eddie Kraspbak has put aside his old life for good. He drives a stagecoach now and keeps to himself- his days of running with the Denbrough gang are long gone. But when two old friends show up and tell him they have unfinished business back in Derry, Eddie can’t resist the chance to put a final nail in the coffin of the past…and maybe find out why Richie broke his promise all those years ago.

“I’ll take left if you take right,” Eddie calls out but when he looks over Richie isn’t even firing his gun; he’s looking at Eddie with a strange, unreadable expression on his face.

“What is it?” Eddie asks, panicking. “Are you hit?”

“No,” Richie says, “I just. I just wanted you know. That I…that I feel the same way.”

“What?” Eddie asks, totally lost. A bullet whistles past his ear.

“I mean I...” Richie says, as if he’s struggling to get it out. “I feel the same way about you. I mean. That I always did.”

“Could we maybe postpone this conversation?” Eddie says, having to yell over the gunfire. “To a time when we aren’t getting shot at?”

Are you gay? Is longing and the tragedy of wasted time your guilty pleasure? Did you read River by Unicornpoe and want more? Do you like westerns? READ THIS FIC AND COME TALK TO ME IMMEDIATELY!!!!!!

9. You Ain’t Nothing But A Hound Dog (And They Call It Puppy Love) by Fluffifullness

Okay, Richie, so you’ve just been Shaggy Dog’d, you’re either kicking it in the weirdest of all possible afterlives or you never died and the sewer clown is punking you. What next?

(or: Eddie makes it out of Derry, gets a divorce, and adopts a dog.)

Richie gets “Shaggy Dog’d” after he sacrifices himself for Eddie during the events of It Chapter 2. Grief, pining, and Richie’s internal monologue being fucking hilarious. And STAN LIVES!!!!!!

10. Thanks For Pudding Up With Me by Mooeydooey

Eddie Kaspbrak was once one of the most influential professional chefs in New York. After an unfortunate incident in his kitchen, he loses his job and most of his earnings. Down on his luck, with no where else to go, he accepts a job offer with the ragtag 'Prospect Test Kitchen' in Boston.

What starts as a small passion project, making cooking tutorials online, becomes a lot more complicated and bigger than they could ever imagine when Bill brings in a new addition to their team. A comedian with a shocking background and surprise talent for culinary arts: Richie Tozier.

Eddie's the only one who doesn't like the new recruit, but Bill bribes Eddie into giving Richie a chance. At the end of six months, Richie's contract will expire. Eddie will get to decide whether they offer him a contract renewal, or refuse to re-hire him.

Things are heating up in the Prospect street Test Kitchen! Will Eddie stick to his guns, and keep his dignity? Or will he get lost in the sauce?

SO FUCKING FUNNY!!! An absolutely genius buzzfeed-esque au that is exactly what I need when I want a laugh. My favorite parts are when they go into like a third person screenplay mode for describing the events in the videos. I cannot get enough of this enemies(?) to friends to lovers au and I’m so so glad it exists.

11. A Fistful of Coal Dust by Jay Auris (nighthawkms)

Eddie Kaspbrak usually works alone. For a bounty hunting mage, this is unheard of; dangerous, foolhardy. But for Eddie - stricken with a dangerous abnormality to his magic - it's the safest way to survive.

When a new bounty takes him to the backwater town of Derry, he's not expecting anything more than a hard job done right for good money. But Eddie's past is about to catch up with him, and Derry could face the consequences. He'll have to team up with a rag-tag bunch of misfits - a sheriff with too much on his shoulders, a tavern owner haunted by loss, and four other hunters with their own secrets and motivations - if he wants to survive.

And maybe, if he's lucky, he'll get an answer to the one question that's been bugging him since he got to Derry: Who is Richie Tozier, and what does he want from Eddie?

A super fun Steampunk-Western-Magic-Bounty Hunter AU that has the perfect ratio of action, drama, and intrigue. I have no idea how the author came up with such an amazing idea and how they were able to do so much incredible world building but I absolutely LOVE IT.

If anyone reads any of these fics I would love to talk about them and hear what you think! They’re all so so so special to me and stay on my fic rotation, so if y’all have any suggestions for me too I’m happy to check them out!

#reddie #it chapter ii #it #richie trashmouth #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #beverly marsh #stan uris #bill denbrough #mike hanlon #ben hanscom #the losers club #hanbrough #benverly #patty uris #stanpat #fic rec #it fic recs #losers club

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emahriel · 4 months

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Hi! First of all I just want to say that I adore your blog and Fjorn! One of my favorite tumblrs 100% (:

I have a question about oc’s and development and backstory. I have a Female high elf (rogue) and i’m trying to write a backstory for her, like where she comes from, her family, past lovers etc what happened before she met the companions basically. But its SO hard and usually i have no problem with this but with bg3 i feel like i’m more limited with the ideas, because i want it to make sense with the bg3/dnd universe. Like the place she grow up in etc, i feel like that has to be a place related to high elfs in the bg3/dnd universe if that makes sense? Anyway do you have any tips when writing backstorys for your oc? Thanks a lot!

Hello there! Thank you so much for the love, I appreciate it! I’m gonna be honest, I don’t have very good tips when it comes to writing backstories and I feel like I’m still in the process of figuring that out myself – but I’ll share tidbits from my process if it can help!

Generally speaking, I take specific concepts or ideas from other medias/characters I like to start with (for instance, the idea of a tragic past and trying to escape from someone for years until a nautiloid snatches my Tav away – a miracle in disguise, aka the beginning of bg3). I also knew I wanted my character to somewhat go through the following states: good – evil – neutral.

Thus began the process of reading! So the first thing I did was figure out if there was a good race that would work with that. I was thinking of a Drow or maybe a Tiefling, but I eventually settled for Aasimar despite them not being in the game. Then I stumbled upon Fallen Aasimar and was like damn… this is perfect for the concept of a ‘‘damned’’ character. After figuring that out, I thought about the class and what would fit the best. Tbh I had just watched The Witcher: Blood Origin (wasn’t great) so a big inspiration for Fjorn was Merwyn and Fjall (with Fjall being assigned as her protector, and Merwyn – an Empress- being evil), so I settled for Paladin since they swear Oaths and it worked with that concept. It wasn’t until Larian announced Paladins and showcased Oathbreakers during the Panel from Hell for Patch 9 that I decided that’s what I would choose for him. Dark Knight is one of the most interesting classes for me in FFXIV, and I really wanted to have something similar for Fjorn; I thought it fitted the idea of ‘‘sometimes you have to do bad in order to do good’’.

So yeah, I take characteristics from other characters that I really love and just combine all of my favorite things together! It’s not really a tip, but something worth mentioning is that the different Wikis out there are extremely useful: Forgotten Realms Wiki, DnD 5th Edition Wikidot, Baldur’s Gate Wiki, DnD Beyond, (wouldn’t recommend Fextralife), etc. I also spent quite some time on reddit just looking up other people’s DnD OC concepts, which did spark some ideas! I wouldn’t worry tooooo much about things not making sense though, the one thing I love about DnD is that you can go absolutely wild and get away with almost anything.

In your case, would probs start reading up about high elves, although I feel like they could come from nearly anywhere. According to different wikis, there are different kinds of high elves in the Forgotten Realms: moon elf, sun elf, star elf, dark elf and llewyrr. There’s most likely way more info about them out there, possibly also more kinds, but this could serve as a base. Click on one and then read about them until one catches your eyes and just go from there since they may have different cultures, different upbringing, different characteristics, etc.

Sorry this is kinda all over the place, but I hope this helps you a bit more!

#em: asks #sry this is a mess and A LOT #idek if this helps at all........

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noonewouldlisten25 · 1 year

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CYBERPUNK TAG GAME

@monowires left this as an open game to anyone who found it so here I am :)

RULES

•Open the #cyberpunk2077 tag and reblog 5 things from blogs you don’t follow while leaving nice comments in the tags

•Tag 5 people to pass on the game!

•Leave 5 facts about your OC!

Much like like blog I got this from, I don't feel comfy tagging anyone but if you wanna say you got it from me, go right ahead :D

Spoilers and potentially triggering content ahead so read with caution!

Anyway, meet Vivianne {Rena}!

1) While Vivianne is a Streetkid through and through, she was born into the Corpo world-although she has no real memory of it. Her parents were high ranking Arasaka officals who both had hits put on them when Vivianne was just about to turn three. When the hitman realized there was a child involved, they panicked, scooped her up, and just kinda dropped her in a random spot, hoping the loose end of this mission would just...Take care of itself. Thankfully, she was found-and raised for the most part-by a younger Vik. But, since Vik doesn't know the origins of the stray he found one day, neither does she.

2) The reason her last name is in brackets above is because, while it IS her legal last name, she doesn't know that. She doesn't remember it. When Vik found her, she was able to tell him her first name but, for whatever reason, not her last. (Her parents had drilled it into her not to tell strangers her family name until she was older, lest people try to hurt the defenseless child when they learned she was from a corpo family.) Since she was able to babble out her first name, and heard it all the time from others, naturally, she remembered it. But since no one knew her last name and wasn't able to use it, as time went on, it faded from her memory. Vik has offered to let her have his last name, and she's considered taking on others' as memorials (Mainly Welles and, postgame, Silverhand) but as much as she loves these people, nothing has ever sounded right to her. So, she just goes by her full first name or, preferably, "V." She'll revisit the last name thing if/when she gets married.

3) Night City is already a dangerous place so she does her best to make sure it's safe as possible for the City's most vulnrable. Although she doesn't outwardly show it much, Vivianne has an extreme soft spot for kids and animals and will throw HANDS for them: while Vivianne doesn't like killing just for the sake of it and/or tries to do non-lethal takedowns as much as possible, there was no hesitation in gunning down the duo in "Dirty Biz."

4) In a place like Night City, this is something that's borderline foolish-plus she knows Jackie would probably tease her mercilessly if he knew-so Vivianne keeps this a tight kept secret. But, behind her sharp tongue and firey attitude, at heart, she is an extreme romantic. If you were to dig deeply through her apartment, you'd find a box with a mix of shards and physical books-all romance stories. You'd also find drawings and stories done by a young Vivianne, all depecting a Princess or Prince finding their Knight. However, where she lives and her line of work is no place for "girlish dreaming," so she keeps this part of her somewhat locked away. But still...A part of her hopes...Maybe one day...

5) She is a non-repulsed asexual! She doesn't actively seek out or want sex, but if she was to get a partner (Gender doesn't matter to her) who wanted to have some fun, she is 100% down. She's kinda the embodiment of the "Yeah, sex is cool and all, but have you ever tried {XYZ}?" meme.

#cyberpunk v #cyberpunk 2077 #OC: Vivianne Rena #Vivianne Rena #Also #check out the blog of who I took this from!#I absoloutely ADORE Vito/their V!

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rainhalydia · 11 months

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Hello huni,

Please talk me through you Johanna Westerling Lannister head canons. Also do you want her to appear in HoTD?

♥️♥️♥️s

Hi, darling! Thanks for the ask!

First of all, I have to give credit to @cafeleningrad for making me interested in Johanna for the first time. That was pre-HotD, when Fire & Blood was released. I had not read most of the book, but I had read about her, and the more I thought about her, the more she became this super detailed character! I'm almost at the point of claiming her as my OC, tbh, that's how fleshed out she is in my mind.

First of all, I think she's extremely proud. She's from a time before the name Westerling had fallen into poverty and married a merchant in, and not that long before her time, a Westerling was selected as queen by a Targaryen king, never mind that he was, hmm, not all there, mentally. Her lineage is very proud at that point! She's a from a noble, rich house! Married into to the most powerful house of the west, to the lord! I think she's very aware of how high in the class scale she is, but in a way that she feels entitled to her power, not aware that it's a privilege. She sees it as her right.

I think tied to that, she's very good at her job of running the house, and has consciously expanded that power by kinda... I guess usurping is not the right word, but her husband is not very smart or hardworking, I think it's super easy for her to convince him to let her be the brains behind the operation. Like, oh, dear, why don't you go hunting, you seem to stressed, I can deal with the vassals and the staff and the smallfolk, go visit your mistress or the brothel, you deserve to treat yourself. In practice, she's the lord. And I think he's dependent enough on her, or comfortable enough with the situation, that she's not too miffed about having to play more traditional roles when in court or something. She's not exactly pleased, but he's dumb enough that she finds him cute. He's her pet.

I also think that she enjoys sex a lot! I think it's pretty self-evident that she was aimming for a male heir to secure her own position should her husband die - which he does, so kudos to her preparedness - but to me someone who's so proud and has her husband so under her control would not be satisfied by a lackluster sex life. Especially because, when we meet her in the text, she's not that young? She's not old by any means, but she's well out of the blushing bride phase. And though he has an official mistress, her husband has more kids with her than with the woman he keeps strictely for lust/love. Something was going right for those two in the bedroom.

I tend to think that she was more annoyed than worried during the Dance, especially with the Greyjoy invasion. She was perfectly safe behind her walls, her kids were safe, she lost her husband but he didn't do much anyway, and her brother-in-law is too far away to cause her any trouble. The raids, btw, were a good excuse for why she couldn't send more men or offer more to the war campaign, and that's pretty good for her when committing too hard to one side gets you killed. Officially they were team green, but not in a way that truly would step on Rhaenyra's toes. At the same time, I think she was very pissed about the Greyjoys destroying her lands and kidnapping her smallfolk. Not in a sympathetic way, though I think she was disgusted by the rapes, but because those were her people, that should serve her and her family. They're not for other lords to take. And for me, that's why her revenge is so brutal when it comes.

I'd LOVE for her to appear in HotD! I'm rooting for it, in fact! As much as the Targaryen are messy, they're not my favorite mess. If they fleshed her out and made her interact with Dalton, I'd forgive them anything, even their poor lighting. And tbh, I don't think that's out of the realm of the possible, given how they transformed the relationship between the other characters, especially Rhaenycent.

#ask game #johanna westerling lannister #headcanons

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florashifting · 1 year

Text

[SCREAM 1: FROGGYS VERSION] PT 1

Platonic!Sidney Prescott x oc!adopted! Sister

read prologue here

THIS IS BASED OFF OF SCREAM IN MY DESIRED REALITY SO ARE MY OTHER SCREAM FICS.

WARNINGS: Canon typical violence, light cursing, mentions of death and violence, description of injuries.

Word count: 2196

Proofread? Not really.

A/n: I kinda like this one, it only took me a few hours to write.

DO NOT REPOST MY WORK ON ANY OTHER SITE OR PLATFORM OR ACCOUNT.

---

Luci was sick. She claimed she was having stomach problems the night before and when she woke up in the morning, so Sidney had decided to let her stay home for the day after.

Luci sat on the couch and set her glass of orange juice down on the coffee table. She bent slightly forward to grab the TV remote that was placed on the other side of the coffee table. After grabbing the remote she sat back and curled up into the corner of the couch that was farthest from the TV. She looked down at the remote in her hand and started flicking through TV channels until she reached the local news and placed the remote back down on the table.

She knew she wasn’t allowed to watch the news without supervision from an older person like Sidney, Billy, Stu, Tatum, or her dad. But she couldn’t help but feel something was different this morning, something was wrong.

As she stared at the news reporter, Gale Weathers, on the TV screen, she couldn’t believe the words that were coming out of her mouth. Two Woodsboro High students. Butchered. The police said they had no leads in this case to possibly help them figure out who did it, that was enough to make Luci’s head swirl into the abyss of overthinking. ‘Oh no. Oh shit. Oh. Crap. Is Sidney ok? Could the killer be on campus with her? Should I try and call her or the school?’ Luci thought to herself in a panic. ‘No it's fine, it's fine. Sidney’s fine. Dads fine. Everyone’s fine.’

‘Everyone but those dead kids.’

Luci tried to calm herself with deep breaths and positive thoughts, although it barely worked.

Luci swiftly grabbed the remote with the intention to turn on something more lighthearted and less anxiety-inducing. She continued switching through channels until she landed on a cartoon, Looney Tunes. Luci placed the remote on the coffee table once again and got herself into a comfortable position.

After a while of watching cartoons and after finishing her glass of orange juice, Luci had fallen asleep in her spot on the couch, she had only woken up when she heard the lock on the front door turning. She jumped up from her spot on the couch so she could get a view of the front door. Her nerves were on edge so she just wanted to make sure it was her sister and not some psychotic killer. Luckily her suspicions were wrong and it was only Sidney who walked through the door.

“Hi, Sid.” Luci said as she walked up to her older sister with a smile.

“Hey, Lou.” Sidney responded while giving her younger sister a quick hug. “How ‘re you feeling?” Sidney asked, concerned with her sister's health.

“Same as this morning. Extremely nauseous.” The younger girl said nonchalantly. “Did anything happen at school today?” She asked Sidney even though she was certain that the campus was swarmed with press and news reporters.

“Yeah, there were News vans everywhere be-” “Because two of your classmates were murdered.” Luci interrupted Sidney.

“How’d you know that? Were you watching the news again? Dad said you’re not supposed to watch that stuff without supervision!” Sidney exclaimed.

“I know but he’s not here so I thought I would just sneak a peek. But I didn’t really hear much anyways! I changed the channel after hearing about it.” ‘It’ referring to the murders of the two high-school students.

“It’s fine, just try not to do it again without asking.” Sidney said as she walked past her younger sister while gently ruffling her hair. “I’ll be in the living room if you need me. Oh and by the way, Tatum’s gonna be coming over tonight.” Luci’s ears perked up at the mention of Tatum. Luci liked Tatum, she was like a second sister to the younger girl, she was always so nice and caring, and she looked after Luci when Sidney wasn’t around. She even used to babysit Luci along with Stu.

“Should I clean my room or something?” Luci asked, almost in a joking manner. She never understood why parents wanted you to clean your room when guests were coming over. But that's beside the point and irrelevant.

Sidney responded with a small chuckle as she continued to make her way towards the living room.

Luci closed the door to her bedroom. It was about 4:30 pm, the sun would be setting in a few hours. Luci strode over to her bookshelf and grabbed a random fantasy book off of it. It was a book that she hadn’t had the time to read yet so she decided now was the best time to start. She plopped onto her bed and put her legs under the covers and leaned on the headboard. She opened her book and began reading.

To Luci’s surprise the book was well written and extremely engaging, she was already halfway through it. She had just gotten to the part where the main character and the villain were having a stress inducing stand-off. If it wasn’t for the sudden growling sound her stomach had made she would’ve found out who won the battle. Luci slid a bookmark in between the pages of her book and closed it. She had placed the book on her bedside table and gotten up from her bed. Just as she was about to open her bedroom door to go downstairs and pester Sidney about dinner, she heard something hit her window.

She walked over to her bedroom window and looked out of it, she could barely see anything considering how dark it was outside. She had decided to chalk up that noise she heard as nothing important and turned around.

But she wished she didn’t

When she turned, she was met with the mask that belonged to the ‘Father Death’ costume that could be found at halloween shops. She would have laughed at how comical it looked if the intruder didn’t push a Buck 120 hunting knife inside of her stomach.

Before she could even open her mouth to scream the intruder had covered her mouth with their gloved hand.

The knife was pulled out but it was quickly driven back into her stomach and dragged about an inch or two above the entry point.

Luci couldn’t do anything but release muffled screams into the intruder's hand as they stabbed the knife into her one more time.

The ‘Ghost face’ pulled the knife out of her before roughly pushing her onto the floor of her bedroom and leaving her there to die.

Luci tried to scream for help but it was as if all the energy had been drained from her body. She tried to apply pressure to her wound, although it didn’t do much to help the immense bleeding from her stomach. The red liquid was pouring out of her stomach at a dangerously fast rate.

Luci tried to gather all of her strength and crawl to the landline phone that sat atop her bedside table, but to no avail.

All she could do was turn to lie on her back and hope that her new position on the floor would somehow slow down the bleeding, but she was proved wrong as the thick red fluid continued pouring out of her stomach.

Luci had laid on the floor of her bedroom for what had felt like hours even though it had only been about 15 minutes. Tears had started to well up in her eyes as the thought of death kept repeating in her mind. Was this it? Was her life going to end? After only 10 lousy years of living? What would happen to her sister and her dad?

She couldn’t even sob, as she was too weak to move any part of her body, all she could do was let the tears fall onto her wooden bedroom floor as she bled to death. Or at least she thought she would bleed to death until her sister barged into her room in a panic and a daze.

“Luci!”

Sidney screamed her younger sister’s name as she swiftly but carefully picked her up and off of the floor.

“You’re gonna be fine Lou we just gotta get-”

Sidney was cut off by her own screams as the person in the Father Death costume lunged toward her with the same red stained knife that they had used on Luci.

Sidney quickly ducked and the intruder flung themselves down the stairs and was knocked unconscious.

Sidney ran into her own room and placed Luci on her bed. She ran to the bedroom door and closed it and blocked it off by opening the closet door.

Just as soon as Sidney opened the closet door the intruder slammed into the door and tried to get in while swinging their knife through the crack of the door.

Sidney ran to her computer to contact 911, and just as she finished messaging them she realized the intruder was gone.

Her staring at the door was interrupted by the sound of Billy climbing through her bedroom window.

“Billy!”

“The door’s locked, I heard screaming. You alright?”

She exclaimed as she turned towards him and ran into his arms.

“Oh my god! Sid what happened?!” He exclaimed as he looked around the room and the figure of Sidney’s younger sister bleeding on her white sheets came into view.

“The killers here- He’s in the house! H-he’s in the house!”

“He’s gone. He’s gone.” Billy whispered into her ear as he held her.

Sidney stayed sobbing in his arms until she heard a small thud. She looked down and saw a cellular phone on the ground. She slowly turned to look at Billy with terror in her eyes as she started to connect the dots.

“What?” He queried

She pushed herself away from him.

“Sid, what?” he inquired again.

Sidney looked towards her younger sister who was still breathing, thank God. She wanted to run over and grab her sister and run but she knew that wouldn’t work, not with Billy around, especially if what she was thinking right now was true. So she did the only thing she could do. She ran. She ignored Billy’s calls for her as she ran down the stairs and to the front door.

When she opened the door she was met with the same terrifying mask the intruder wore when she was attacked. She screamed at the top of her lungs, but only for her own screams to be interrupted by the sounds of deputy Dewey’s startled screams.

“Sid?” He asked, confused.

“My sister! My- My sisters hurt! She's been stabbed! Billy’s the killer- It’s Billy Loomis!”

Sidney hurriedly explained through tears as she pointed towards the stairs that led to the second floor.

“Where are they?” Dewey asked with a stern tone.

“Upstairs! They’re in my room!”

Billy was slammed down on the front of his car as his hands were held behind his back while he pleaded with the officers to let him go.

Luci was carried outside on a stretcher and put into an ambulance. Sidney was following close behind her sister and got into the ambulance with her.

“You’re gonna be ok. Everythings gonna be ok.” She tried to comfort her sister as she sat next to her stretcher. “We’re gonna get to the hospital and you’re gonna get fixed up and everything will be fine.” She told her sister, although it seemed more like she was comforting herself mostly because her little sister was barely conscious.

Sidney had been briefly questioned by the police and had talked to Tatum already. Now all she could do was wait until the ambulance arrived at the hospital.

Sidney was sat in the waiting room with Tatum and Dewey sitting on both sides of her. Dewey was almost asleep while Tatum was reading a magazine. Sidney’s leg was anxiously bouncing up and down while she waited for news from the doctor about how Luci’s surgery went. She almost considered going into that room herself just to see Luci. She was anxious to know whether or not her sister was gonna make it. She just needed to see Luci.

Just as she was about to go ask around about Luci, a nurse came out of the operating room.

“Your sister is in stable condition. She’s gonna be ok.”

Sidney let out the biggest sigh of relief as Tatum shook Dewey awake.

“Can we go see her?” Sidney asked.

“I’m afraid not. Visiting hours are over, and she’s not awake.”

Just then the relief Sidney had just felt had disappeared, anxiety and a small amount of anger replaced it.

“You can come visit her tomorrow. She’ll most likely be awake by then, if not, we’ll give you a call.” The nurse informed Sidney.

“Do you have a parent you can call? Or a place to stay?” The nurse asked.

“My dad’s outta town, and I’ll be staying at my friend's house tonight.” Sidney said as she stood up and grabbed her jacket. “C’mon Tate, let's go.” Dewey said as he walked toward the exit of the hospital.

#reality shifting #shifting #fame dr #desired reality #froggys fame dr #shiftinconsciousness #shifting edit #scream [froggys version]#scream 1996 #sidney prescott #billy loomis #stu macher #gale weathers

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villain-in-love · 10 months

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Sorry this ask took a while to send, I've been busy deep cleaning the last few days! But in your other post you mentioned Monster High and Ever After High OCs/Self Inserts. I don't want to pressure you if you don'y want to ofc, but if you're comfortable with sharing them.. I'd love to know more about them!!

I don't know much about Ever After High myself. I watched a few webisodes on Youtube some time ago and then dropped it. But I've been thinking about picking it back up again because I love the fairytale setting. Plus the dolls look very cool design-wise! I think out of the character I've seen so far, Madeline might be my favourite :3

Also, do you perhaps collect any other doll lines? I also enjoy Living Dead Dolls, Bleeding Edge, Little Apple Dolls, ect. If you enjoy the gothic/alternative style of Monster High, I'd definetly recommend them!! Some of them are bit more gorey - but theres plenty of interesting characters.

Ever After High is a great doll line as well as a show with immaculate aesthetic and interesting concept. Personally, I still prefer Monster High over it, but I've seen people favour Ever After High because it has a serious main conflict that can be analysed on a deeper level. A lot of people tend to simplify the message to "rebels good, royals bad", but in reality, while rebels do end up being in the right, position of royals does make sense, their concerns are understandable and hold a certain weight, at the very least because the entire situation the characters are in is rather complicated.

Honestly, if we look behind the bright and pastel coloured fairy tale aesthetic, the way fairy tale society functions is borderline dystopian…

Anyways, I think I have more OCs here because with the whole premise of following or rejecting one's destiny as well as having characters represent different fairy tales, naturally, lot of ideas appear. And so my OCs are often just me playing with the possibilities of what kind relationship with their fairy tale roles different characters might have.

While she’s not my personal favourite, I respect everyone who likes Madeline, she’s pretty cool (I especially like her Legacy Day doll which is visibly inspired by Victorian fashion) Unfortunately, she often get reduced to a comic relief, but I believe she had much more to her character in books by Shannon Hale, which I didn't have a chance to read yet, but I’m planning on doing so.

By the way, I checked out the doll brands you listed, and turns out I already knew some of them. However, while I don’t mind gore, those are not exactly the type of dolls I’m interested in (mostly I just dislike child-like proportions). (Living Dead Dolls look pretty neat though) I guess I liked Monster High as fashion dolls specifically, and very elegant, elaborate and well-thought-out ones at that.

Aside from Monster High and Ever After High, I used to like Bratzillas. I know that some might say that they are just a Monster High rip-off, but even if they were heavily inspired by it, they were still good (well, I was simply excited to see another gothic fashion doll line). I’m still upset that the franchise was so short-lived and I wish I bought more of their dolls. At some point Once Upon a Zombie piqued my interest, but I got quickly disappointed in doll and animation quality.

Also I wanted to comment on your OCs, because I actually like your character ideas. I adore the pun that is Manita’s name, especially since it’s both a good joke and sounds similar to "manticore". I overall have a soft spot for characters that are man-eaters both figuratively and literally. Octavia is extremely cute, I think she’s my favourite here, and I would totally root for her and Twyla’s relationship if they were in a show together. Levi looks like an entertaining type of character, I wish I could see him (them?) in action.

I kinda want to bother you a bit more and ask about what kind of fashion styles your characters prefer wearing and what would be written in their “freaky flaw” part of the bio, but that’s up to you if you want to continue the conversation about OCs.

Anyways, going to my OCs. I must warn you, there's a whole lot of information. I feel kinda bad for not drawing them myself and using character makers to represent them instead, but depression is a bitch and so this is the best I can do currently.

So here are the character design concepts plus some notes I have about them:

Starting with my only Monster High OC who is also a self-insert. I still don't have a name for her, since I want it to be a pun like most of Monster High names are but I have no good ideas yet.

Heavily inspired by the song Necromancin Dancin by Bear Ghost.

She's a necromancer who was born in the middle of the 19th century and died young. However, in my lore necromancers themselves are undead as well and only “awaken” after their own death. And so the first dead body they learn to control is their own.

She actually started out as a villainous character who exploited other undead students using her powers, either to harm or to manipulate.

She has issues, okay? On the inside she’s just a cynical and hostile sociophobe with a “better be a bully than the one bullied” mindset, convinced that there’s no point in trying to make friends since everyone would hate her anyway.

Ends up going through a character development and redemption arc thanks to the power of friendship and acceptance because it’s Monster High we’re talking about.

She seems very cool and confident when she’s being mean, but she’s so painfully awkward when put in a friendly environment. She doesn’t know how to be nice, she’s afraid of making a wrong move and ruining everything again.

Has a good sense of humour, but it’s dark and sometimes downright rude or offensive, which often puts her in uncomfortable situations.

She’s adopted since her parents were regular humans and she long since outlived them. After their death another necromancer – who was her mentor – took her in.

Now this is Ekaterina Bayun, the daughter of the one and only Bayun Cat. She was sent to Ever After High to better get ready for taking her father's role, since she's the first ever person to replace the original Bayun Cat. Because her father is immortal, she's didn't have to do it and it was entirely her own decision, which made her somewhat famous in school, being that she’s the only fairy tale character’s descendant who was actually given a choice.

While Ekaterina counts as a "royal" simply by the virtue of choosing to take her parent's role in their fairy tale, her view on the royal vs rebel conflict is rather neutral. And if you ask her opinion, she thinks that humans of their world would benefit more from rebel’s movement than they would if everything stayed the same as it always was.

She's actually a big monstrous cat who is capable of transforming into a human-like form. She spends half of the time in her cat form and assumes human appearance when it’s more convenient.

Ekaterina takes villain classes since, while she’s not The Villain TM, she’s classified as a beast that usually antagonises heroes. Also she literally kills and feasts on human flesh and it kind of automatically puts her into “evil” category.

Very chill, very lazy, prone to sarcasm and snide remarks. Like every cat, Ekaterina subconsciously thinks of herself as superior to everyone else and doesn’t like following any rules she disagrees with.

She’s a great storyteller and a singer with low and slightly gravelly, but very attractive voice. However, she has to be careful with it as to not accidentally put the entire school to an endless sleep.

Ekaterina has got a creative streak and is pretty intelligent, so she’s also good at making up her own stories. Her favourite school subject is creative storytelling.

She couldn't care less about human etiquette or morality. She's nosy and impudent, and has a habit of wandering into places where she shouldn't be.

Mstislava The Wise – daughter of Vasilisa the Wise from “The Sea Tsar and Vasilisa the Wise”. Headstrong and prideful, she never wanted to accept the role of her mother, which is why her family sent her to Ever After High in hopes that she will be put in her place here and stop rebelling. But boy, if that wasn't the miscalculation of the century.

Mstislava is a hardcore russian woman – she will walk into the house on fire and stop the horse running at full gallop, looking fabulous while doing so. She’s talented and intelligent, and absolutely refuses to become an obedient and loving wife of some Ivan Tsarevich who will sit on his ass while she does all the work in their story, only to be denied credit later.

Just like all women of her bloodline, Mstislava is a powerful sorceress. She's a master of transfiguration who is closely connected to the forces of nature, plus she possesses an impressive collection of enchanted items. She's also implied to be not quite human.

She doesn’t actually hate being a princess, and she would love to become a queen, but she's willing to sacrifice her royal status for the sake of her freedom of choice... or just for the sake of making a point.

She threatens her family with magic or refusing to go home if they don't accept her wanting to write her own destiny. She either gets to become the queen on her own terms, of she will run away and become a wicked forest witch.

Despite how serious and intense she appears, Mstislava does have a mischievous side and sometimes uses her magic powers to play tricks on people.

Mstislava is good at poetry, but unlike what is expected of a princess, she’s a terrible musician. (And so Ekaterina proceeded to teach her how to rap to pass the Muse-ic class…)

She's hard-working, but she's also a night owl, so you can catch her angrily banging at the door where the party is going at night, complaining that they're disturbing her while she's trying to study.

She's actually Baba Yaga's distant relative, and Mstislava considers Yaga to be her role model.

Meowriel Savatier – daughter of the Puss in Boots. She's a natural born hero and a royal who is very excited about fulfilling her destiny, especially since her destiny is to be with and help her best friend Marquise de Carabas (she's in love with her but doesn't fully realize it yet).

She’s technically considered to be Marquise’s lady-in-waiting, but it’s not as obvious since they both treat each other as friends and equals, with Marquise being especially considerate, even though Meowriel herself still goes out of her way to please her.

She doesn't have many close people, but she's an incredibly loyal friend, even to the point of selflessness.

Meowriel is bold, energetic, and resourceful. She seems to be in high spirits all the time, having a plan for any occasion and never giving up.

She's an incredibly persuasive and charming opportunist.

She takes hero classes and is the best in the Dragon Slaying class, where she uses cunning tactics to succeed instead of trying to rely on brute force.

She's an example of a royal who is actually selfish. She genuinely wants to fulfil her destiny which will give her and her beloved Marquise a happy ending, while the rest of the royals and rebels can rip each other to pieces for all she cares.

She doesn't mind rebels, but only as long as it doesn't affect her own story. However, if someone in her story tries to rebel, she's willing to force them back into their role by trickery and manipulation.

Because every character cast needs a cheerful French with a bob cut and a sinister side.

Once I actually get to drawing her myself, I hope to make the design of her boots much more elaborate, since they are her character's signature piece.

Marquise de Carabas – daughter of the miller's youngest son from the story of the "Puss in Boots". Marquise wants to be an active character in her story and she's worried about her best friend having to do all the work for her. She feels that it's unfair that she doesn't have to do anything while Meowriel alone ensures their happy ending.

She's a bit spoiled, but I wouldn't say that she's entitled. More like she's not used to hard work and discomfort, all her life she didn't even have to lift a finger or deal with serious problems herself.

She loves art in all of its forms, so she wishes to keep living an easy and lavish lifestyle so that she could dedicate her time and effort to it.

She's not particularly skilled at writing, drawing, or singing but she doesn't let it stop her. She's got a good sense of aesthetic and yet unexplored theatrical talent. Also she's a great violinist.

She considers the possibility of rebelling, while she secretly tries to find the way to prevent her story from even starting. Just like in the case of Ashlynn Ella, Marquise is destined to lose her royal status and fall into poverty for her story to begin, and in the end she’s going to have to marry to become a princess again.

She has serious issues with having to marry a "designated" person as a part of her destiny, especially since she still didn’t even have a chance to meet them. She’s the type who can only fall in love with someone she already shares a deep bond that lasted for years, and there's exactly one person like this in her life...

However, seeing how excited Meowriel is about following her destiny, Marquise wonders if she should just give in to make her friend happy. After all, in their story they will stay together for ever after anyways, so it shouldn’t be that bad..?

Maybe it's because she's so observant, but Marquise can easily spot acting or lies. Bad acting irritates her.

She doesn't fully trust anyone except Meowriel because she's the only one who is always honest with her.

By the way, I'm still only figuring out her character, since she was recently revamped in design and I started over with her personality. I'm also currently thinking about possibly changing her name.

Hua Li Ming – daughter of Hua Mulan, raised both as a capable warrior and a perfect lady. She's torn between wanting to honour her family, both like her story and fairy tale society tells her, and being absolutely terrified of having to bear such responsibility and spend 12 years at war.

She's noble and prideful, so on one hand she considers it a honour to become the next Mulan. On the other hand, she hates herself for being reasonably scared and unwilling to fulfil her destiny.

I imagine it will get revealed when Darling Charming tells her that she's lucky for getting to be a warrior instead of a damsel in distress, causing Li Ming to snap and go into a full-blown "you know nothing" tirade.

Actually has to deal with the pressure of being both a soldier and a lady. It's not like she was given an opportunity to choose one or even reject both.

She's a royal who desperately wants to rebel but still can’t let go of the thought that it's somehow beneath her.

Everyone around her constantly going on about how she would make a perfect Mulan doesn’t help.

Soft-spoken but firm, knows her own worth.

Known for being well-mannered and highly disciplined, Li Ming is a pleasure to work with and is considered to be a great company.

This showcases her level of self-control, and unfortunately it also means that she’s used to repressing her feelings, especially negative ones, which doesn’t do her any good.

Does meticulous work like weaving and sewing to calm herself and sort out her thoughts.

Li Ming studied combat and the art of war ever since her childhood. She likes it all in theory, but she'd rather not have to use it.

Instead of serving her country as a soldier, she wishes she could prevent the war before it even starts.

Character makers used:

The first one

The one that is made in Ever After High style

The third one is Anime Avatar Maker found on Google Play

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alparlaboratories · 1 year

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My OCs Masterlist

I got tired of having to look through my mess of a computer to find drawings and other stuff about old OCs and characters I might wanna use in the future, and I’m bored right now so I figured I’d make a list with all of my important OCs, or at least the ones that mean the most to me.

These are not ALL of my OCs, just the main ones for their respective stories/campaigns. But there’s still a lot, lol. Also I’m not counting Niss for this list, even if she’s an OC in my heart. You can learn more about her in my pinned post anyway.

(Note: Art is either made by me, my partner @pastlight or has been commissioned by various artists)

Metchi

You know how parents say they don’t have a favorite child? Well I do and it’s Metchi. ‘What if someone decided they wanted to do good purely out of spite and had pretty much everything stacked against them?’ I asked myself. ‘What if she was also a grungy trans girl who has no fucking clue what she’s doing and is constantly bickering with the deity inside her head?’ was the next question. And from that, Metchi was born. The willpower to burn a hole through Mt. Coronet yet the resources and energy of someone who considers cigarettes the most effective breakfast.

Nico

He’s my PC from our current (in hiatus) Pokemon tabletop campaign. A Lumiosian street artist and Sky Trainer who enjoys throwing himself off of high places and being completely fucking incomprehensible to all who meet him. The only neurons in his brains are dedicated to serving looks, calling the wind to his command and delivering the most unhinged takes on the nature of human happiness he can think of.

Tulip

‘I would like to make a tragic character whose obsession with the truth will inevitably lead her to ruin’ I thought. ‘Oh, fuck’ Tulip replied. Out of all my stories, hers is currently my favorite from a writing perspective, and I owe a lot of that to Tulip herself, always willing to push and push until something pushes back, because it’s what she thinks she owes to the people who were just as unfortunate as her. And I love her for it.

Hope and Hunter

These two come in a package deal. ‘Small town life-long friendship’ is something I’ve been meaning to try my hand at writing for a while, and though their story is at the very beginning, I like them quite a lot already. A lot of my personal history with friendships and growing up into your twenties is imbued into them, though they are cooler and dumber and more than willing to take those things to their natural extremes.

Ska

Protagonist of my yet in-progress, unnamed visual novel I’m working on. She’s a sheltered Fae changeling with a death sentence hanging over her head, and a desperate desire to do as much stupid shit as possible before something ends up killing her. She has a bat and absolutely sucks at using it, and she’s hopelessly in love with both of her best friends. I love her deeply, and I hope I can share her with everyone soon.

Shadi

Absolute trash human being, possibly the worst woman in Sinnoh, lover of drama and shadow magic and also Dark Souls. What if an older sister was allowed to be as evil as her little heart desired? Well, that’s Shadi. Obviously there’s more to her, but I like making fun of her. I think she’s a funny character on her own right, except when she’s doing horrible shit to my other OCs, which is often. In any case, she’s one of my favorites to write for a reason.

Eatos

Eatos is... weird. They don’t have a set story, they kinda bounce around a few of my works being mysterious and off-putting and tricking people with smoke/illusion magic. They exist in the same universe as Ska, and in that world at least they’re a human with the power of a Fae artifact. I’ll get more of a chance to develop them someday.

8) (Really old drawing, I didn’t even have a tablet back then lol)

Shadi... 2!

Yeah I have a few characters named Shadi, I just really like the name. Anyway this particular Shadi may be my first actual OC, back when I was... fuck, I dunno, fourteen? I don’t know how relatable this is, but she’s the OC that made me think ‘I’m gonna write her story and become a famous fantasy author and write a bunch of books and-’ and you know the drill. That didn’t quite end up happening, but I don’t regret it much. I did write a book, but my creative goals right now are very different from back then, and I’m happy with that. One step at a time. Still, I care a lot about Shadi for basically getting me into writing fiction, and someday I hope I can write a story that’ll serve as thanks for her.

Cole

PC for another Pokemon tabletop campaign that unfortunately never progressed much. Which is a shame, because I like this guy, even if he’s so hard to relate to sometimes that I have trouble writing him. He’s nn ex League/army man who now lives peacefully in Pacifidlog alongside his Electrode called Maradona. He loves dogs to a comical degree (the only part about him I understand) and spends most of his time drinking beer, wishing he could drive fast vehicles and helping out Darya, his neighbor and aspiring contest star.

10)

Machi

Uh... yeah, we’re getting into the really old ones. I don’t remember much about Machi other than she was a hired killer and lived with a guy who did all her murder planning for her because the pay was good and he hated his job that much. It was from her story that Eatos came forth, so it’s a shame that they ended up being so much more interesting to me than Machi. I still like her, though.

11)

Tala

Listen, we all gotta have an edgy OC with a sword, and Tala was mine. Another PC for an even older Pokemon tabletop, maybe even THE oldest. I went around from loving him when I created him, to despising him a few years after and now kinda liking him again, just because he’s so ridiculous in his drama queen ways. He almost rivals Niss in that regard. But yeah, cool sword, tragic backstory, crabby personality, the works. What do you want from me? I loved that shit when I was a dumb kid.

Anyway... there are more of them, but these are the main ones I remember. Of course there’s also Reiko and Percy and characters like that, but they’re different kinds of OCs, and I already posted about them before.

No point to this post other than to have them on here for future reference.

#ocs #ocs masterlist #pokemon #child of thorns #art

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feelin-kinda-cocky-bmc · 1 year

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FKC Mini-Update 2/21/23

Alright, don't have a lot for this update, but hey, I thought I might as well keep posting so people are aware this project is still very much active! I'm currently on Mardi Gras break, and will be utilizing the next two days to work on writing Dustin's Route. There is a bit in Dustin's Day 1 that was originally going to take me a hell of a lot of time, in which I would be writing eight unique chunks of dialogue based on three options the player chooses in a row. However, for the sake of getting a rough draft out ASAP, I have streamlined it to where each topic will flow into each other without much of a missed beat. The eight interactions might appear in a later installment of the game, though.

However, while I'm here, I'd like to announce that the FKC Tumblr now has a new header image, courtesy of our new artist: Rose! I'm extremely happy with the art and I'm so glad we have another great artist on the team. Here's the full image because Tumblr dimensions are wack lol

Anyway, in an absence of content on my end, I'll go ahead and put out what is completed, what is currently being worked on, and what I'm hoping to achieve in the future:

The rough draft of Rich's route is done. However, in an effort to keep up with momentum during the earlier stages of writing when I wasn't on ADHD meds, I ended up skipping a whole part and promptly forgotten that I had skipped it. It's still very much a draft with a lot of repetition that I need to iron out, solely because when you work on something for so long in spaced out intervals, you forget what you did previously.

Once all of the incredibly messy drafts of each route are completed, I will be going back to revise them and hopefully get to a point where I can personally playtest the early stages of the game.

Also, in addition to completed routes, Rich and Jeremy's routes will have secret routes. These won't be as important and as high priority, as they are genuinely just me throwing some OCs into a fangame. But hey, if you like hot, borderline criminal bad boys, or flower-loving, theater kid soft boys, then I've got just the routes for you ;)

With the way I'm writing the routes, I'm also simultaneously coding. Or half-coding, anyway. I'm writing it all in a way that makes it easy for me to simply copy and paste it into ren.py, and then I just edit the Python from there. Double tasking woo!

I also have basic GUI assets that I made,,two years ago,,so I'll need to revise those. But aside from the title screen art, everything looks moderately okay and is completely functional.

At the moment, I'm working on Dustin's route. This is going to be heavily headcanon-based, I'm warning everyone now, but it doesn't stray far from canon. He's just a little unique because there's not a lot of canon information about him

Also, I don't know if I ever clarified this, but each route will be structured in the same format: The default exposition (where you choose your route), around 5 in-game events (or days), the dance day (where your bachelor of choice has invited Michael to the school dance), and if you're lucky, the date day (self explanatory, only available on good endings). In addition, each route with have a bad, neutral, and good ending. This does not include secret endings

After the Dustin Route, I plan to start Jake's, and then Jeremy's (sorry Boyfs shippers!). When all are completed, I'll start revision and the addition of the secret routes.

When the writing stage (which I'm almost entirely sure will be the longest) is mostly complete, we'll be going into the art stages. I have several talented artists already volunteered to help out, and I will likely make a hefty portion of my own. Art will include backgrounds, GUI assets, sprites, and possibly promotional pieces.

And after the art stage, we'll start playtesting a beta version so we can figure out bugs, adjust the stories as needed, and overall gauge the interest of the BMC fandom :)

I would love to create background music for the game at some point, and have the capability to do so, but that genuinely might not get there until later stages of development

Though this is far off, after the game's release, I'd also like to release events. These events would allow for a new storyline to be played regarding Michael and the rest of the BMC crew. These will largely be either self-indulgent or catering towards the fandom as a whole, such as writing all the characters in FKC into an AU. These sort of events would happen for things like Halloween, Christmas, Valentines, etc. Again, far off! But I'd like to make it at least known

Discord | Community Idea Drop

#fkc #fkc sim #feelin kinda cocky #bmc #be more chill #i think we're finally starting to move this project along at a pretty steady pace :)

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fruit-teeth · 2 years

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When I was in middle school, I befriended a girl I met on Deviantart, who I’ll call Angie for the sake of this story. Angie was a little older than me (probably in high school but I’m not 100% sure) a good artist, and I remember thinking she was super cool. Once she even drew one of my OCs for me and I was ecstatic because I looked up to her

Anyway one day, Angie suddenly messaged me, very upset because someone stole a bunch of her artwork and also one of her OCs. She told me she reported the person but nothing had happened. Pissed on behalf on my cool older friend, I went over to this person’s profile and saw that they were doing exactly what Angie said they were doing, and not only that but they were calling Angie a ‘bitch’ repeatedly while making cruel comments about her looks

Being the pissed off 13 year old that I was, I ended up arguing with the art thief, and they were extremely nasty towards me the whole time and it got so bad that I eventually said something along the lines of “you suck, kys” before blocking them. I was very heated but I eventually forgot about the incident and moved on.

About a week or so later, I talked to Angie again and learned that the art thief mysteriously vanished. I don’t mean the account was deleted or anything, but they had just stopped posting and responding to messages altogether. When I learned this, I instantly remembered that the last thing I said to them was “kys” and I started BAWLING, thinking that I had gotten this person to off themself or something. I never told my parents or anyone and I harbored this as a dark, guilty secret for literal years. This was the reason I always told people never to say “kys” to anyone, because you never know if the person will actually do it. For a long time, I was never able to forgive myself for this and I laid awake thinking about it many nights. Even after I fell out of contact with Angie this still plagued my mind

FAST FORWARD TO A FEW DAYS AGO: I ended up getting into contact with a person I knew back during my deviantart days, who also knew Angie. At some point during our conversation, I referenced Angie, and this person suddenly drops a bombshell - the ‘art thief’ never actually existed. Angie was the one running that account the whole time and she apparently admitted to doing so in a journal post that I never saw because I had stopped using Deviantart before she posted it. Meaning that I spent almost a DECADE believing I had a hand in the possible suicide of some person who DID NOT FUCKING EXIST??????

I don’t know how to get into contact with Angie and I also don’t know if I want to but like: WHY? WHY DID SHE DO THIS??? I literally have no clue how I’m even supposed to process this what the actual fuck

#I’m…speechless #I’m still reeling from this #i have felt so much guilt over this for so long #and the person WASNT REAL?#DUDE.#angie if you’re reading this somehow what the fuck is wrong with you #text post #just me things #deviantart #suicide tw #long post

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tiredassmage · 1 year

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Hear, see, and speak no evil (the monkey emojis lol) from the OC ask game?

Tyr gave me such a FIT over these, okay? Naturally, I had to bother him to be stubborn, but woof. This was a bit of a heavy one.

I feel like he needs a sticker warning about... veering a bit dangerously close to that self-sacrifice (aside, I read that back in HK's voice and now I'm just. sighs @ myself) is the answer thing, but... he doesn't quite cross that line. He just. Flirts with it. A lot. Without telling anyone else. I don't know, he's just kfnalskdfnlsaf. Keysmashing. It isn't the answer. He theoretically knows this. Theoretically.

This will not stop him from making fucking stupid decisions. Send help. For me or him? Yes.

My poor little glowstick 😔 smth smth his arresting looks and layered identity crises have captivated me, etc etc

Hear-no-evil: What is the worst thing your oc could hear from someone?

It was all a lie and you are alone.

This was the trickiest one, honestly. Tyr takes a lot not exactly on the chin, but... He’s good at… pretending he’s fine, really. He conceals. He swallows. Because it’s part of how you could survive living with the Sith watching your every move. Tyr says one of his worst fears is to lose the few people he cares about - and, to an extent, it is.

But he also spent a while without being able to fully, genuinely rely on others. He’ll fight ‘til he’s worn down to the bone to protect those people, but the inner, ‘uglier’ (I’m stumbling to find a better word) realist in him recognizes its always a possibility. Forever’s not a guarantee. Especially when your husband’s also a spy.

“We’ll take everything from you” isn’t an unfamiliar threat. Hunter made it and made all but complete good on it. I think they succeeded a bit more than Tyr will ever want to admit; the interlude period between Chapter 3 and… even as late as Shadow of Revan? Tyr doesn’t trust almost anyone. It’s hard to completely trust even someone like Vector because he did, in a sense, lose everything. It’s not that Vector got any less trustworthy and more that Tyr was painfully aware how thin the ice underneath his feet was and how dark the waves were beneath it. He’d never want to drag anyone else into that.

But a betrayal, an abandonment by the extremely few people he’s tried so hard to let in, whom he’s trusted enough to try to figure himself out in front of? That’d cut him to the core.

It's also probably worth noting that while he doesn't exactly refrain from speaking his mind all the time with Sith, there is always an apprehensive tremor that runs through him about it. Lana may be the only eventual exception because they ultimately finally find ground as equals, but that back of the mind knowledge of being undone with no power to change or stop it never leaves. Acina's scathing Intelligence should have retired you when they had the chance! from Iokath clocks quite high on the list of things that dealt way, way more damage than Tyr has ever talked about or admitted to. That was a sore one on multiple levels and, as John Mulaney says, we just don't have time to unpack all of that.

Is what Tyr maintains about it, anyway. [inhales] Boy.

See-no-evil: What's a side of your oc that they don't want to show to other people?

Alright, okay, you got me, this one was also rather difficult, largely because his “sides” aren’t that well-defined - rather nebulous and shifting like dissipating fog. And it’s different for different people - which, obvious, I suppose, but particularly complicated given how much Tyr walks a tightrope through intrigue and opposition for so long.

Ultimately though, I don’t think he really wants to share just how far he’d be willing to go - the risks and compromises he is willing to put himself through. He doesn’t shy away from this, per se - I have written him practically verbatim telling Malavai Quinn he’d tear the Empire down to the foundations with his bare hands if that’s what it takes (and a 'same scenario, different take' version where he admits basically the same to Vector; one day maybe I'll finish either of them, F). But saying it and enacting it in front of these few souls who care so much for him, have come so far at his side are two drastically different things.

It won’t necessarily be enough to stop him, I don’t think. He still can’t see it, won’t admit it, but Tyr is dreadfully dedicated to his ideals at times. And he’s willing to wade through blood and plasma bolts to get there if he needs to. Ideals they may be, but this world has never been spotlessly idealistic. That makes him no less willing to fight for it though.

He doesn’t even quite acknowledge this as much as he maybe should to himself. Just another part of Cipher Nine, mayhap, that he won’t dare to wake until he’s necessary.

Speak-no-evil: What is something your oc will refuse to remain quiet about?

Haha, maybe all of this was just building to this kanfdlkadnslf!

Alright. Boy’s really keen to talk back to their pretentious Sith overlords about the value of mere “pawns” like himself, no matter that it continues to kind of genuinely startle him probably… until he has to deal with Valkorian on a daily basis and it finally wears the edge off (because that shit’s gotta be exhausting, what energy is left over to worry about the consequences?).

Because while he talks back somewhat often for an operative that’s all too well aware that they’re living and serving on borrowed graces and he wouldn’t change this, necessarily, he still knows a little too consciously that he’s playing with fire. He just… continues to choose to do so. To say it’s because he knows his work is necessary overstates his confidence of his position. He’s really not that confident about it. It’s just… he’s tired? Tired of trying to please while trapped in the constraints of a web. The Dark Council’s already proven they don’t trust his judgement or his loyalties and that’s what gives him a reason to genuinely question those loyalties so far as to actually break them.

The way he sees it is kind of that he’s already been a target. He has just enough of a reputation to turn heads when he speaks up, so he can’t, in whatever good conscious may be left to him, stand by silently. It happens with Lord Razer, it happens on Makeb when he talks the mission over with Darth Marr, and it, in a sense, happens on the Dominator against Darth Jadus. It definitely happens with Lana on Rishi. If there’s a single consistency to Tyr, it’s that he stands by people he cares about even a little - no matter how fucking blind he is to that quality. He’s been around the Empire long enough to know more than enough about what it’s like to be thought of as a means to an end first and anything else - friend, citizen, ally, what have you - second. That’s not acceptable to him. He’s not a spy or a soldier to spread fear and destruction. That is the cursed domain of the Sith. He signed on to look after things - people. And if they’re not doing that, then the system’s gone wrong. That’s supposed to be their jobs, their purpose. And his passion for that will always overrule any apprehensive notion of self-preservation in the face of a loosened Sith lord. Because if he doesn’t stand ground there, who will? How do you change the precedent if you’re not willing to make that change?

So, really, in short... double-edged character traits and Tyr, I guess. x,D He fascinates me. I love him. I pity him. I want him to get better and I'm going to watch him possibly get worse akldnfldsanfsdf. He's got such a Pandora's Box thing going on and idk if any of us are ready for him to actually recognize that, ignorance might genuinely be bliss klfdsalkn; or at least... maybe a little less emotionally damaging. If still potentially incredibly self-destructive. Stars help him.

#answered #ch: tyr #swtor ocs #i'm staring at him under a microscope is he uncomfortable yet? very likely #the amount of a lil fucked up he is when i pull back some of his defenses is a little like!!! yikes!!! you okay bestie!!!! he's so not!!!#i love him i do he just has SO many problems my GOD #imperial agent #dial it back my boy go pet a fluffy critter i hear they're good for the happy chemicals #genuinely i need this man to adopt his random alley cat and finally take his cat and his husband and fuck off this is for your health tyr

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eggbagelz · 1 year

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Lore for band OCs? Wall of text about band OCs? Pls?

OH WELL IF U INSIST

So basically the idea for these dudes came up bc mcr and a huge fascination w bands and music as a whole really started to take over my brain over the course of this year [also i mean everyone's thought abt forming a band at least once right? Im living vicariously thru these geeks]. Being enamoured w mcr's utter lameness and the general urge to want to front a band myself [highly unlikely that that'll ever happen but i can dream] i started futzing w the idea of a fictional band of like. Complete losers if u get what i mean [i am in no way projecting in the slightest GSKDHDJ]

Generally speaking when i come up w ocs it takes some time for me to make designs and round out personalities but w these guys it was almost fuckin instantaneous, they sorta took on a life of their own yknow?

Anyway so i dont have like much of an actual plot yet but the general idea is that magdalene [bassist + backup vocals], e.s [rhythm guitarist] and lorelei [pianist when needed] got insanely high together and joked abt forming a band [well. Mags and lorelei did. E.S has a medical condition wherein there is a complete lack of humour in their body] and Lorelei took it as a challenge and went and found them a drummer and a lead guitarist/singer [romeo and harbor respectively]. They all have like. Extremely different tastes in music [romeo's never even listened to anything out of the top 40 before] so a LOT of time is spent fucking around and doing "covers" and shit. [They do figure out p quickly tnat Harbor's got a p versatile singing voice tho]. I like to joke abt them being mediocre but honestly i think that once they like. Figure their shit out [which takes a long long long time] theyre p fucking awesome.

When i make ocs i like. Want them to be as complex and human as possible yknow? So these guys all like. Have their own shit that they have to work thru while balancing their regular lives and the band life [well. "Life."] Ask any of my homies and theyll tell u that my favorite thing outside of character design and storytelling is that i LOVE the psychology of making a complex and realistic character [u should see what i did to wolverine]. Generally like. Music to me is an emotional thing yknow? And i want to reflect that w these idiots

OH I FORGOT OISÍN. hes not a part of the band but he is a fellow musician and side character :3c. Hes a total sweetheart who ends up becoming a close friend of the band's [he also has a jupiter-sized crush on harbor but thats mostly for comedic reasons]

Really theyre just. Idk man theyre my funky little dudes who i explore music and personality thru u get me? Blorbos from my brain

#THEY ARE FRIENDS THEY ARE IDIOTS THEY ARE MEDIOCRE AND THEY LOVE MUSIC #also hi anon. i love u #anonny #we still don't have a name for our band #[comm noise]

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