acupofnightshadetea

[acupofnightshadetea]

A Cup of Nightshade Tea (I)

Here it is, what this blog was made for! First things first, I would like to give a special thank you to @whatzaoverwatch and @reapers-carino for inspiring me to come out of my shell and to try and show my works to the public. As well as @tacticalvisor76 who had made HCs of this prompt that helped me put it in motion (which can be found here). So without further rambling, here it is!

Near death, reader begs for mercy, only to find out that the one who granted their wish was a demon! Reader must now comply with the malevolent spirit’s demands if the contract is to be fulfilled so that they can be free. But sometimes deadmen can still tell tales... Demon!Hanzo X Fem!reader

Your vision was blurry, growing hazier and requiring a greater effort to stay up right and not fall over. It seemed so nice, so tempting. To lay down and rest, just for a little while.

Despite your body begging for a break you continued onwards. The rain was pelting; and if your wounds weren’t to be the death of you then the cold most certainly was. Legs struggling to keep you upright the constant barrage of fallen logs and protruding rocks showed no mercy to your disoriented condition. Almost as though wanting to keep you from ever finding your way out of the forest.

Internally you laughed at yourself for such a silly thought. Cold, hungry, and weak -anything would seem to be against you at the moment. It was foolish, but you still felt that way nonetheless.

Maybe it was out of spite, or maybe it was due to the fact that you weren’t paying attention that in your feeble steps one of them did more than a mere stumble. Falling face first to the ground you laid there as sharp pangs poked through the tenderness of your flesh. Too tired to cry out or to even wipe the dirt getting into your eyelashes it was everything your energy could handle to keep the feeling within your skin and not succumb to numbness.

The rain had coated rocks in a dark grey that scarlet streams swirled and diluted into, all the while flushing the various chlorophyll hues of the thick of the woods. Had it not been a bad day, you would’ve taken solace in gazing at their steady transition to autumn toned hues.

Your eyelids were heavy, oh so heavy. Maybe if they closed for but a moment, the cold would subside. And maybe the pain would too, just a little bit was all you asked for. What happened what they did, it was so horrid that you had to have been dreaming. Maybe if you went to sleep here you would wake back up in a warm bed that was dry and cozy.

But you weren’t dreaming.

The rain pattering over your beaten frame was real. And so was the tremors that ached throughout your drenched bones. You didn’t need a mirror to see the purple swelling that replaced your skin, or the mud that replaced your clothes.

You were on the ground ever so slowly bleeding out -the same exact way they left you. New to the area you hadn’t the slightest clue in regards to gangs or the sort. Originally one man in your attack, upon being pulled out of the van another made himself present. The struggle was nearly over as quickly as it began, the offire of a gun piercing your side. Inherently seeing it fit they decided to leave you there as their purpose fulfilled -to die a pitiful and agonistic death.

Yet you managed to get up and found the willpower to seek help. You did it once.

And you were going to do it again.

Everything in your body protested. Jagged rocks suddenly became the best bed on the planet. Coughing and shaking, the action of getting onto your hands and knees was already a feat in itself. Now having a recognizable distance between your eyes and the ground you were able to see what you had stumbled upon.

An old pillar of stone had been long since knocked over from its erected stance. To the side of you you noticed an effigy in pieces adorning moss as a crown. You may not have known anything about this place, but the placement of a man made item was unmistakable.

And where there was one, there had to be another.

A sudden surge of adrenaline hoisted yourself up and went so far as to give you enough motivation to continue walking forward. It was a sliver of hope from a menial sign of human activity, but you’ll be damned if you stopped as soon as something was given to you.

By now the acoustics of the rain had become fine tuned. Ears being able to hear the various heights of which they hit leaves or to form a puddle in the mud. Your feet led you in what would have been the direction behind the stone pillar. And just as fate would have it the sound of hitting its target happened all at once, resembling that of a flat surface, such as a pavement.

Or possibly a roof.

Heart swelling you couldn’t control the tears at the sight of it. An old, abandoned shrine that had been long since put out of commission. Rotted out wood and withered away charms whose protection chants had been long since washed away.

It was the most beautiful sight you’d ever seen.

Limping your way there and inside you didn’t register the pair of eyes that were now watching you.

The sudden end to the berading rain felt odd to your skin, leaving a sheen gloss over your entire frame. Nostrils flared at the pungent, stagnant air. It was hollow and dark inside. Had you not been so disoriented you would’ve heard the ghostly moan that came from its shadows.

Still the eyes were watching.

Groaning yourself it was all you could do not to topple over again. Senses still together by a thread, your eyes looked around the place for any salvageable items. What you found was a desecrated space that not only held some degenerate’s graffiti but also a wrecked Deity figure. You couldn’t help but shake your head. Even in its state it still provided for a mere mortal, despite the gross disrespect that was done to it.

You knew you had to pay some form of homage to the Deity of which the shrine was devoted to. It was the bare minimum you could do if you wanted to stay there.

Unbeknownst to you a different spirit now took over the residence. One whom was the definition of a nightmare to someone as vulnerable and defenseless as you.

And it was not happy.

Not only did it hate being disturbed, but it was hungry and yet to eat anything in the better part of a century.

Did you ever smell so sweet.

An appealing place to rest for a bandit or some other criminal the spirit took a special liking to comprising a horde of their weapons after consuming them. Taking their possessions as a sign of dominance what little they had now its. An ornate, delicately crafted bow and quiver was a particular favorite.

Getting into the nasty habit of playing with their food the spirit began to tantalize its victims. The smell of fear growing intoxicating, releasing a special high in the hopeless dread and helplessness that was at its sole disposal.

But right as it was about to release the string’s tension it stopped, eyes watching.

On your knees you were fiddling with abstract objects until finally a wisp of smoke began to float upwards. Amongst broken panels you managed to find remnants of what used to be used for the shrine’s ceremonies. Right in front of it you had placed three little mushrooms and a handful of berries you randomly found in hopes to serve as food. Pressing forehead to the ground you began to pray, or rather, beg for mercy.

What were you doing?

More amused with the theatrics you were putting on the spirit refrained from making you its next meal -for now that is. Crossing grey toned arms the cooled skin would’ve made the wood shiver could it feel. White glowing eyes stuck to your every move.

Watching the wracking shiver tremor through your body, noting every quiver of your lips as you whispered. Never before did he have a problem with playing with his food before devouring it -matter of fact savored the extra taste despair brought.

But this was different.

Something made you different.

Maybe it was because those before were unashamed sinners. Or perhaps it was that your helplessness was not because of him, but of some other monster that was too sloppy with their food to let it get away. Whatever the cause, the spirit didn’t act. But instead became flattered when you went so far as trying to tidy up the shrine’s space.

It wasn’t much, and truth be told you did it more so to see if any animals were in there than anything else. The rain outside continued in torrents, its ferocity unforgiving and unrelenting. Shuffling the things about you you were able to determine a dry enough spot away from the roof’s leaks.

Time went by as slowly as it ever did. Bugs began their racket and the howling of wolves could be heard somewhere in the distance, though if they had smelled your blood they never came closer. Well knowing who ruled these woods.

The smell of weakness grew stronger, grew sweeter. The spirit licked his lips. The mere act of abstaining for this long made it that much more enticing. In this air of uncertainty a sense of delicacy came over you. A purity that the faintest touch from his hands would taint. Mortals were always fragile, but never serene while so.

Too used to thinking of one as food, when lowly spirits came to bring your soul across the threshold he forgot completely what happened when he didn’t consume their soul. It finally occurred to the spirit that you were now only a breath away from death, from slipping from some kind a tangible grasp he had of you here. Seeing the lowly servants set up their chains to take you away put a swelling anger in his chest.

This was his domain. They didn’t have the right to touch you.

Flicking his wrist those beneath him vanished back to whence they came. It was silent amongst the storm raging outside. A pain hit him upon hearing the agonistic groan escape from your lips. Then just as before the lowly spirits appeared once again to bring you death.

At this point it would have been a mercy. To end you suffering. The God that used to reside here would have granted it. Except it wasn’t and in its place here he stood. He wasn’t a benevolent spirit, either.

He was selfish.

Sending them away once more the spirit took a step to be beside you. Kneeling he took your chin in one large hand. Eyes glazed over incapable of recognizing reality your ultimate demise was imminent, he was no fool.

And yet what was this he was feeling?

Pity?

Sorrow?

Such mortal emotions. But here they were, all the same. Glowing eyes glanced over where the offering still lay. Then slowly, back towards you.

Cold fingers went over and petted the sopping wet mess that was your hair. You were so weak that you didn’t even register the presence of another entity. Eyes never leaving you his mind went back and forth as to what to do. An intriguing specimen, you had stricken his fancy long enough not be eaten, but if that was not to be your fate then something else must be done.

Meanwhile the servants began to to grow impatient. If the spirit wasn’t going to eat you then they had to take you away. Souls couldn’t be kept as pets (well, not here anyways). It wasn’t until a verbal fight broke out between the two did he finally make up his mind.

Gracing the softness of your features one more time the spirit placed a hand on your unmoving body. Being from nother-realm it was difficult to describe the feeling of a spirit leaving a spirit. It didn’t dissipate, there was no feeling of loss or emptiness. Instead it was simply.. Somewhere else. At first it was nothing, until the sensation of being soaked to the bone became his own.

And lungs that he never had a use for burned and began to thrash with the violent shivers returning to your body. Filled with just enough life, the lowly servants went away on their own accord this time.

The night was still long and dark. The spirit knew that though you returned now, it was only a matter of time before you went straight back to the same fate. Something more needed to be done.

Groans whimpered from your lips as something began to take a hold of you. Tired and deranged, nothing made sense anymore. The only thing that could be comprehended was a sense of safety that was being projected onto you by an external force.

Feebly accepting its embrace there was not much else you were capable of doing. You wished you had enough strength to voice your eternal gratitude but any sound was cut off by aches and pains. Unable to keep yourself oriented eyelids gradually commanded themselves shut. Allowing for the blackness to consume you with nothing else there except for the arms of an Angel.

Or, quite possibly,

A Demon.

Eyyyy so there it is! Please keep in mind that this isn’t polished and it’s my first time making a serious attempt at writing. All in all I hope you didn’t think it was too bad and that you liked it! Thank you!!

[acupofnightshadetea]

Blog In The Making

So I manage to scrounge up enough courage to make a blog devoted just to writing works and art stuff as well. Is under the process of building please stand by. Any works done by me will also be uploaded to AO3.