#I guess I don’t have any survival instincts
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cool-lesbian-is-here · 7 days ago
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I’m so weird like I literally see one post that I like, check the amount of notes it got to see if I have a shot at being moots w this person and then js hit follow and immediately decide that they’re cool. Call me a glass half full kinda gal, I guess
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psychoticfemmm · 17 days ago
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between two worlds
pairing: rafe cameron x pogue!reader
summary: Rafe steps out of his comfort zone to join the Pogues for a beach night.
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The beach was alive with the usual chaos that defined the Pogues. JJ was digging through a cooler for beer, Kie was setting up a makeshift bonfire, and Pope was arguing with John B over whose turn it was to collect firewood. You sat on a blanket, watching the sunset over the ocean, your heart racing as Rafe Cameron’s figure loomed in the distance.
“I can’t believe you invited him,” JJ said, shooting you a pointed look as he cracked open a beer. “This is sacred Pogue territory, Y/N.”
“He’s my boyfriend,” you said simply, brushing sand off your legs.
“Yeah, unfortunately,” JJ muttered under his breath.
Sarah shot him a look. “Give him a chance, JJ. If Y/N can handle his crazy ass, we can for one night.”
You turned to see Rafe walking toward you, his shoulders slightly tense, his hands shoved in his pockets. The evening light softened his features, but you could tell he was uneasy. He wasn’t exactly a welcome presence among the Pogues, and he knew it.
“You didn’t tell me it’d be this many people,” he murmured when he reached you, leaning down to kiss your temple.
“Rafe, it’s literally just them,” you teased, gesturing toward the group. “You’ll survive.”
He rolled his eyes but sat down next to you, his hand instinctively resting on your knee. The gesture didn’t go unnoticed.
JJ snorted. “Look at him. Acting like he belongs here.”
“JJ,” you warned.
Rafe tensed but didn’t rise to the bait, his thumb rubbing slow circles against your skin. “Nice to see you too, Maybank.”
“Alright, everybody chill,” Sarah interjected, sitting cross-legged on the blanket. She gave Rafe a small smile. “Thanks for coming, Rafe. Even though I know you’re out of your element.”
Rafe raised an eyebrow. “You could say that.”
“Just don’t kill the vibe,” JJ added, plopping down on the other side of you.
The tension was thick at first. Rafe sat quietly, his usual cocky demeanor dimmed in the face of the Pogues’ scrutiny. You felt the weight of his discomfort, and it made you squeeze his hand reassuringly. He looked at you, his blue eyes softening as if to say, I’m doing this for you.
As the night wore on, the tension began to ease. JJ’s antics and John B’s storytelling had everyone laughing, even Rafe cracking a smile here and there.
“Alright, I have to ask,” Kie said, looking directly at Rafe. “How does a Kook prince like you end up with a Pogue queen?”
You groaned, burying your face in your hands. “Kie—”
“No, it’s fine,” Rafe said, surprising you. He leaned back on his hands, glancing at you with a small smirk. “I guess I just like a challenge.”
JJ scoffed, but Kie rolled her eyes. “Seriously, though.”
Rafe’s expression softened as he looked at you. “She’s different. She doesn’t care about any of the crap I used to think mattered. She calls me out when I’m being an idiot, but she also makes me want to be better.”
The Pogues fell silent, exchanging surprised looks. Even JJ looked slightly less annoyed.
“She’s good at that,” Sarah said, smiling at you.
You felt your cheeks heat up, but before you could respond, JJ pointed at Rafe with his beer bottle. “Alright, Cameron, you’re scoring some points. But don’t think I’m not watching you.”
“Duly noted,” Rafe replied dryly, earning a laugh from John B.
As the night wound down, you and Rafe wandered a little farther down the beach, away from the firelight and the laughter of your friends. The ocean waves crashed gently against the shore, and the cool breeze tugged at your hair.
“See? That wasn’t so bad,” you said, bumping his shoulder playfully.
He huffed a laugh, wrapping an arm around your waist. “They hate me.”
“They don’t hate you,” you assured him. “They’re just…protective.”
He stopped walking, turning to face you. “And you’re worth protecting.”
You rolled your eyes, but the sincerity in his gaze made your heart skip. He stepped closer, brushing a strand of hair from your face.
“I mean it,” he said softly. “I know I don’t always fit into your world, but I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure I do. For you.”
Your breath hitched as his thumb traced your cheek, his touch warm and familiar. “Rafe…”
“I love you,” he murmured, his voice barely audible over the waves.
Before you could respond, he leaned down, his lips capturing yours in a kiss that was slow and deliberate, as if he was trying to pour every unspoken word into it. His hands settled on your waist, pulling you closer, and you melted against him, the rest of the world fading away.
When you finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, a small smile playing on his lips.
“Alright,” you said, your voice teasing but soft. “You’re forgiven for being awkward.”
“Awkward?” he repeated, feigning offense. “I was charming.”
“You were stiff,” you corrected with a laugh.
He grinned, kissing you again, this time quicker but no less sweet. “You bring me around them enough, and I’ll charm them too.”
“Let’s not push it,” you teased, lacing your fingers with his as you started walking back toward the fire.
In the distance, you could hear JJ yelling, “Hey! No PDA where we can see it!”
Rafe groaned, but you just laughed, pulling him closer. He might not be a Pogue, but tonight, he’d proven he was yours—and that was more than enough.
✮ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩ ⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩⋆ ˚。𖦹 ⋆。°✩
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honeyed-nothings · 4 months ago
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To Have a Crush: Savanaclaw
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Warning(s): Gender-neutral reader, not proof-read, OOC
Notes: Procrastination hit me hard…also I did not expect to spend an hour finding decent enough emoticons for them. May just switch to regular bullet point style someday since I’m still trying to figure out what format I like(╥_╥). Never realized how hard it was to make a pretty format on tumblr until now. Also I’ve gotten pretty rusty too but my schedule has finally cleared up a bit so I’ll be able to be a little more active now!
Heartslabyul | Savanaclaw | Octavinelle | Scarabia | Pomefiore | Ignihyde | Diasomnia | Special
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Leona Kingscholar
𓄂 A crown of love that the king wears. A herbivore was all you were to him. Another nameless face in the faceless crowd of people who he couldn’t care less about in the grand scheme of things. That’s how it was supposed to stay…until it didn’t. The proud lion will never admit this (or at least not anytime soon) but that day where you, a weak and stupidly stubborn human, stood your ground among all the dust and debris was both one of the most frustrating experiences in his life and also the first time he ever thought of you as ‘strong’. Every so often he thinks back to that moment and sighs before pulling you towards him to lay on the grass.
𓄂 A king should always be accompanied by his retainers. However, he’s not king and you’re definitely not his retainer. Just a stubborn herbivore who happened to catch his eye, that’s all. You’re not that great as an errand runner either but it’s better than just one. A help that Ruggie greatly appreciates but occasionally complains about how you always take the lighter load. Don’t think much about it, he just doesn’t want you messin’ up or anythin’. Strangely, whenever you do run errands for him, there’s conviently always an extra that he gives to you. Reasoning to you that the King of Beasts would’ve done the same thing to those under his care. The proud lion knows this is a lie he can’t keep using to play off what he feels inside. Not when his own ears and tail betray him.
𓄂 Tch, well this is embarrassing.
𓄂 Maybe it was a good thing that Leona already knew. From the moment his tail unconsciously wrapped around you, he knew what his heart was telling him as it beat in his chest. There, with you and him napping underneath the shade of a tree, he realized he had fallen in love. He didn’t know whether he should’ve laughed or cursed the world so he chose to do neither instead. Gently brushing a stray leaf off that had fallen on your face, he chuckled. Guess something like love ain’t all that bad.
𓄂 A crownless lion who’s more hated than loved and a visitor from a place far from here. An interesting duo you two make as he pulls you yet again away from class to nap in the shade with him. His attempts at catching your heart aren’t too noticeable, only noticed by the keenest of eyes. He’ll never be the ideal partner, that he acknowledges despite his pride. But being sappy and overly romantic isn’t his style. That’s why, he’ll win your heart in his own way. A path perhaps not that of a king, but of a man in-love. The prideful lion may not bow his head to no one, but for you he’ll take a knee.
“Huh, well aren’t you gettin’ bolder? I didn’t think you’d beat me to it.”
Ruggie Bucchi
シ Hidden amidst the dirt and grime was love. It’s ingrained into Ruggie to look after people but he’s learnt to not let it be given without a price. Outside of his family and Leona, the latter of whom was more so to help his own skin, he didn’t exactly feel any desire or need to look after you. Sure he felt pity, after all you’re in a tighter spot than him in the world, but aside from that you were just an after thought. Nobody of note that could be beneficial to him in any way. That was until Leona overbloted and well…he’s somewhat grateful that you don’t have much of a survival instinct. You’re a real goody two-shoes aren’t you? Still, he’s thankful that you’re the way that you are. Hyenas never forget a debt and this one he owes to you alone.
シ It really just started off with it being to repay his debt to you. Sure it’s not much but he can’t really do anything fancy like paying you millions of madols or giving you land. That’s why, the hyena has chosen to pay it back his own way. Simple as it may be, it’s all he really has to offer. It’s not like watching your back is gonna cause him anymore work than he’s already got. Soon enough, he found himself doing more than what he intended to. Giving parts of his lunch to you, claiming he didn’t feel like it or there was extra. Stopping during his errands whenever he spotted you to have a quick chat before going off again with slightly more enthusiasm than before. Or heck, sparing you a few madols so you can get what you need. It’s kinda a loss but he just can’t seem to make himself stop. Not when you smile at him so brightly.
シ Wait a minute.
シ Nah��nahh he can’t seriously be in love with you or somethin’, right? Being close to you is just to pay off his debt, not cause he actually likes your company or anything, right?? But as his eyes catch his reflection on the window panes of the college, he can no longer deny the blush on his face or the rapid beating of his heart as the thought of you runs rampant in his mind once again. Well, guess there’s no point in fidgeting around anymore.
シ He’s not much, really he ain’t. Ruggie knows he won’t hold a candle to anyone else in the school in terms of magic or madol but what he does have is his smarts. In his own way, he’ll try and appeal to you. Sometimes he’s confident, other times he feels like he wants to die from how embarrassing it must’ve looked. Still, he tries and tries and tries. Hoping that maybe, just maybe, you’ll choose him buried underneath piles of trash.
“You-…you’re really choosing me?”
Jack Howl
ᴥ︎ Love that resounds throughout the night. A team up was all Jack figured it’d be. An agreement to right the wrongs and set things straight so that one day, once more, Savanaclaw would be able to say from the bottom of their hearts that they won. Nothing big enough to lead into the friendship that came to be between you and him. Well then things took a turn for the worse and then the better and well…he’s sure you get it. An accident, a friendship, a bond, whatever it is, the stubborn wolf has decided that he’ll have your back. No matter what and no matter where, he’ll help you out.
ᴥ︎ Respect was all it was. A respect towards a magicless human who proved their own strength by courageously standing in the face of death. Not everyone has a spirit like that and the wolf beastman couldn’t help but look at that and think ‘Ah, now that’s strength’. In doing so, he wanted to be respected by you too. That’s why, when he could, he’d wait outside Ramshackle and walk with you to your classes, carrying your books and providing an umbrella if it’s a rainy day. Need help on the homework? He won’t tell you the answers but he’ll help you figure it out at least. Like working out? Great! He’s more than willing to provide some tips and tricks to achieving the goal you want. Well it wasn’t until Ruggie teased him about how much more happy he seemed doing all that stuff for you that it finally clicked for him. This…isn’t good.
ᴥ︎ D-don’t misunderstand him!
ᴥ︎ Actually no, maybe you should— wait no you shouldn’t! Jack doesn’t know how to feel about…this now that he fully recognizes it. Well- he does, in a way, it’s just…complicated. To be honest, he did have a suspicion that his feelings of respect towards you had turned into something deeper. How fast his tail wagged whenever you were nearby, how he wanted to put even more effort into whatever he was doing when you were watching, how red his face turned whenever he took a ‘secret’ glance in your direction, it really was way too obvious looking back on it.
ᴥ︎ Wolf-type beastmen only have one partner for the rest of their lives. Dedicating themselves entirely to whoever their partner may be. Jack always dreamed of finding his one true partner, he just never expected it to happen so soon. Yes, a crush to him counts as his one true love as childish as it may be. With exactly zero romantic experience under his belt and only equipped with the knowledge of the multiple times his parents told him their love story, he attempts to appeal to you. Surprisingly, for a first timer in love, they’re all thought out and not embarrassing. Jack isn’t good at hiding how feels about you in front of you or anyone else, but it has a certain charm to it. The charm of an adolescent boy in love who cares for you quietly, unable to hide how he feels, as his heart and tail follow the same beat.
“..Phew, you’re here. Prefect, I—uh need to tell you something.”
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sourcherryandsprinkles · 1 year ago
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Taking care of Coryo afte the bombing. He's being stubborn and doesn't want to rest and maybe says something hurtful to reader?
I started over three times...I hope you like it
Warnings: mention on bombing and deaths
my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time
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You were sitting by his side when Coriolanus’ eyes slowly opened, stirring from his deep sleep. He shifted in the bed and made a sound of discomfort, his shoulder throbbing. 
‘’Easy, you’re gonna hurt yourself,’’ you said, helping him off his stomach and into a more comfortable position. 
The scene had been horrifying to watch on the screen of the academy. No one knew exactly what had happened as the area wasn’t a very secured place. The screen had turned black after catching some of the explosions, leaving everyone in the auditorium worried for their fellow classmates — and tributes.
You brushed a hand through his hair, looking down at him. ‘’How are you feeling?’’ 
Coryo’s eyes met your concerned gaze. ‘’Lucy Gray, is she..?’’ he asked, a fog enveloping his mind. 
‘’She is okay,’’ you reassured him. ‘’They took all the remaining tributes back at the Capitol zoo.’’ 
‘’I’m guessing they’re still going with the games.’’ 
You nodded. ‘’Do you remember what happened in the arena?’’ 
Coriolanus winced, trying to piece together the fragments of his memory. ‘’It’s all a blur,’’ he admitted, his brow furrowing. ‘’Explosions, fire and…people were running and more bombs going off. Lucy Gray and I got knocked down when the first bomb exploded. I tried to get back up, but a piece of the arena’s structure fell on me. She came back for me.’’
You gave a sympathetic smile, continuing to run your fingers through his disheveled hair. You had been so worried when Tigris told you a piece of the structure had fallen on her cousin during the bombing. ‘’They were old bombs some rebels must have placed between the end of the last games and now. The area is not well secure, so they could have gotten in at night.’’
Tigris returned shortly with Sejanus behind her. He was bringing information on the tributes and mentors' conditions. Coriolanus nodded as his friend spoke, absorbing the information while you held his hand, stroking the back with your thumb. Four tributes and two mentors had died. 
‘’Wherever Marcus is right now, he has more chances at survival than in the arena,’’ Sejanus said, still cursing his father for buying his old friend as tribute. It was sick. 
Coriolanus sighed, the weight of the games and the Plinth prize still on his shoulders.  
‘’You should rest,’’ you said to Coryo after Sejanus left. 
‘’I don’t have time to rest. The games are tomorrow. I need to think of a strategy so I can make my tribute win—’’ He tried to sit up, his face twisting with pain. ‘’Fuck.’’ 
‘’You don’t care about the girl! I know you’re doing this for the Plinth prize, but no amount of money is worth risking your health for. You need to rest, Coryo.’’ 
A bitter retort escaped his lips. ‘’Says the one who’s family is bathing in money.’’ He stood, seeking support from the wall as his head began to spin from the concussion. ‘’If I don’t win this money, everyone will know about the Snow family’s downfall. There was an eviction notice on our door last week. Tigris tried to hide it from me, but I saw it. We can barely afford food, how are we gonna pay rent? I need to go to university. I have to support my family. Without the Plinth prize, none of this can happen.’’ 
His state of panic made his head hurt from the heavy thinking. Coriolanus groaned, the pain intensifying, and released the wall to cradle his head in his hands, causing him to lose balance.  Instinctively, you moved swiftly, grabbing him before he could fall, and guided him back on the bed. 
‘’I may not know what it’s like to struggle financially, but don't hold it against me for being born into my family,’’ you said, not allowing him to make you feel bad for your social class. He couldn’t take his frustrations out on you. ‘’I don’t prance around my family’s money like our classmates do, or look down on the less fortunate. If you want to secure this prize, you need to lie back and rest. You can’t make your tribute win if you can’t even stand on your feet.’’ 
One thing you had learned these past years was that Coriolanus was the most stubborn person you knew. His determination could never be underestimated, a trait that often bordered on obstinacy. It was a crucial part of what made him who he was. Fortunately, you were one of the only people who knew how to reason with him and talk him down when he was being unreasonable. It wasn't always an easy feat, considering his unyielding nature, but you had honed the skill of navigating through his stubbornness.
He let out a sigh of defeat, knowing you were right. ‘’What am I gonna do?’’ Fear and desperation laced his voice, pulling at your heartstrings. 
You sat beside him and gently placed your hands on his face. ‘’We’ll figure something out,’’ you promised, letting him know he wasn’t alone. ‘’For now, you’re gonna lie back in bed while I find you something to eat. I can hear your stomach screaming.’’
Coryo managed a faint smile, appreciating your concern. ‘’It’s not that loud...’’ 
You gave him a look as his stomach betrayed him with a loud noise. ‘’I’ll be right back.’’
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wing-ed-thing · 2 months ago
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Rainy Day (Crocodile x Reader)
Synopsis: You find yourself caught in the rain with a pirate.
Word Count: 1.5k
Tags/Warnings: No Reader Pronouns, Fluff
Notes: *blub blub*
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“I guess you don’t like the rain either?”
Crocodile wasn’t expecting you to speak, let alone with the light laugh you held in your voice. It threw him off acutely, causing him to raise a slight brow as he regarded you from his periphery. 
You pulled your thin sweater across your chest, still holding your light grocery shopping in one hand. Your sorry excuse for a jacket looked completely drenched through, which didn’t surprise Crocodile in the face of the downpour just a few feet before you. 
You sought refuge under the same storefront canopy, watching enviously as people ran by with umbrellas and sporting dry-looking rain boots. But the streets quickly vacated, leaving you and Crocodile stranded in the only spot of semi-dry cover. Water rushed the street, leaving a river about ankle-deep in its wake. The drains weren’t formidable enough to stop the backup, causing little whirlpools to swirl on the roads. Even where the both of you stood, rain rushed in a thin layer under your shoes. 
“I should have known I wouldn’t be able to make it back in time, but—” You glanced at Crocodile with a smile. —“You don’t look like you’re from around here, huh? No one probably told you about the downpours.”
It was the second time you’d regarded him so casually, and Crocodile wasn’t used to anyone speaking to him in such a blasé way. No one had ever tried to make inane chitchat about the weather with him before, especially not at his towering height and with the jagged facial scar he sported with menacing pride. He had a hook for a hand, and you were talking to him without an ounce of hesitation.
“Hasn’t anyone taught you not to talk to strangers?” Crocodile gruffed, avoiding your gaze as he scanned the environment outside your canopy. The rain was falling in sheets without sign of letting up anytime soon. You laughed again.
“Maybe when I was a kid, but as an adult, wouldn’t that make us both strangers?” 
“That doesn’t make a lot of sense.” 
“No, I guess not.”
Crocodile barely listened as he dug into his jacket breast pocket to fish out a cigar. He placed one between his lips before toying with his lighter. It took a few strokes for it to ignite, but Crocodile was eventually able to take a long drag of his cigar. And as he released a massive cloud of smoke from his lungs, he hoped it would be enough of a deterrent for you to stop your chatter. 
There was a pause as the pitter-patter of raindrops hit the ground. 
“Is that Al Fakher—?”
—“Fucking hell—” Crocodile turned to face you fully, ripping his cigar from his lips as he threw his hook up in vexation. But even as he scowled at you, your expression didn’t change. “Do you not have any survival instinct? Any at all? For all you know, I could be a pirate here to pillage your village—”
“Oh, you most certainly are,” you hummed with a nod, and the singular action took Crocodile aback. 
His words stopped on his lips instantly as he scrutinized you, forehead knitted together as he took another drag of his cigar in contemplation. His weight shifted to his back leg, his scowl deepening by the second. 
“What makes you say that?” 
He noted your three-point glance. 
“You’re kidding, right?” 
Crocodile’s brows bounced on his forehead as he took another puff. He crossed his arms over his chest. He wore his usual heavy fur coat, which usually did the trick regarding light sprinkles. If it were any heavier, Crocodile might have braved the dismal downpour just a few feet ahead. 
The rain on this island came often, and when it rained, it poured. Although, the rain was typically unaccompanied by other characteristics of a storm. Lightning was absent from the grey clouds above, and thunder hardly rang out over the skies. It was all just rain.
“You’re an odd one, I’ll give you that,” Crocodile muttered. Smoke continued to take up the space under the canopy, dispersing into the muggy atmosphere. He had been weighing braving the downpour in the face of your talk, but the rushing water became less appealing as he puffed on his cigar. Crocodile eyed you from his peripheral. “You’re not scared or nothin’.”
It was equally a question as it was a musing.
“Oh… should I be?”
And just like that, the rain stopped. It dropped in one final sheet like someone switched off a lever. The pool of water on the ground slowly swirled into the sewer grates, and the clouds above remained grey and dark. 
“Yeah,” he answered, taking his cigar between his fingers. Crocodile’s hook glinted in the low light. “You should.” 
He turned to face you fully. His towering shadow engulfed you in the changing light. You stepped out onto the sidewalk, your head tilted upward and your palm extended as you checked for lingering sprinkles. And once the skies had been vetted for rain, you turned to look back at Crocodile with a cheeky smile.
“Why should I be scared when I have you to protect me?” 
The cigar nearly fell out of Crocodile’s mouth as you turned to walk down the road, your words only stalling him for a moment before he stormed after you. His long coat whipped in his wake. 
“Now, wait a goddamn minute,” he gruffed. You continued to make your way down the road. Crocodile walked closely, almost diagonally, behind you as he positioned himself in your peripheral. “I don’t play bodyguard, especially not to some random villager when my bounty—”
“Oh, I’m sure it’s very high,” you hummed, glancing at him briefly out of the corner of your eye. Crocodile scowled as he narrowed his eyes.
“I don’t like the way you said that…” His hand shot out to grab you by the back of your shirt, stopping you in your tracks with little resistance. Crocodile hasn’t expected to have to fight to still you, but you seemed to immediately stop the moment he grabbed you. That oddity alone was enough for him to recoil his touch slowly. 
You turned, pivoting slightly on your heel to meet his gaze.
“I wasn’t being sarcastic by any means. I can only imagine how powerful a pirate you must be,” you sighed, glancing off to the side in thought with a shrug before meeting his stare once more. “I don’t know anything about that kind of stuff, but even I can see that… But you don’t seem that bad.” 
And just like before, you began to walk off. Crocodile followed as you took a turn down a side street. 
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I suppose it means that I don’t think you seem like a, uh… bad guy, I guess?” You splashed through a puddle with your knee-high boots, paying no mind to the ankle, deep water as Crocodile stood on the significantly dryer sidewalk. He glowered as tiny droplets flew onto the ankle of his slacks. 
“You’d be wrong about that,” he huffed as you returned to the sidewalk, now walking next to him as you trailed water on the ground below. Your footsteps grew dryer as you went. 
“You’re gonna fight me about being a bad guy? Isn’t that a little cartoonish? Childish?” You walked up a flight of stairs with Crocodile following alongside you. For every two steps you had to make, Crocodile made one before you stopped at the landing.
Crocodile let out a boisterous laugh, paying little actual attention to you as he regarded you incredulously. 
“You’re one to talk!” 
“You can disagree, I guess. But I don’t think a bad guy would walk me all the way home,” you hummed, placing your key in the lock to your front door. 
You didn’t seem to bother even to catch Crocodile’s violent recoil. He jerked back, gaze immediately flying to the front of the building he found himself standing in front of. It was a modest stone front with identical ones sandwiched on either side. Each boasted a set of stone steps leading up to deep-green colored doors. Romantic street lamps illuminated the road below.
You opened the door, and before he knew it, you had one foot inside as you turned to Crocodile.
“Did you want to come in?”
“You’ve lost your mind.”
You turned back to the dark entrance hall, flicking on the light just inside the doorway with a shrug.
“Well, if you change your mind, just knock, I guess.” And before Crocodile could say a word, the door shut behind you, and the latch of the lock clicked firmly. 
Crocodile turned with a sigh, still trying to wrap his head around what just happened as he moved to take a step down the stone staircase. But in an ironic twist of fate, thunder cracked above, and the sheets of rain dropped from the clouds with force. No canopy could save him from the elements this time. Crocodile took one last puff of his cigar before the onslaught of raindrops put it out, leaving his hair soaked and water dropping off his nose. 
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creamhoodie · 7 months ago
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Hunted
synopsis: You're walking home late from work one evening and encounter a stranger..
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Tags: yandere, smut, kinda dubcon, non canon characterization, afab reader, satoru gojo
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You felt it again, that unmistakable feeling of the fine hair rising behind your neck. 
That feeling had been your loyal companion for the last few months, coming on and off. It came just often enough for you to not forget about it, but not enough to warrant true concern. You chalked it up to getting accustomed to this climate, you had recently moved to the area around the same time you first noticed it. Oh how naive you had been.
As you walked home from work after staying late to put in overtime, that feeling was accompanied by the rustling of footsteps. Soon enough the racing of your heart joined in, creating a daming trio. It was nearly midnight and though the office you worked at was only a few blocks away from your small town home, the route was dimly lit. 
Again the rustling permeated the air.
Pausing now, you turned around.. no one. 
It was only when you turned the corner that you peered over your shoulder and saw a tall male figure walking towards you. 
Instinctively, you picked up the pace but his long stride made it difficult to out pace him. 
“Hey are you okay? You seem shaken,” the male called out. His voice was smooth and confident and when he stepped into the light pole’s beam you understood why. 
This man wasn’t like anyone you had seen before. His skin radiant, free of blemishes, and his hair was a snowy white. Most striking were his eyes, a celeste hue that made it seem as though pieces of the sky fell into his lids. 
“You okay?” He asked again, laughing slightly. You figured he was used to the ogling. Who would suspect that someone who looked like they could be on the runway would live in the shadows? 
“I think so.. I was just walking home from work,” you voice said, still timid. 
“Me too, mind if I walk with you?” He asked. 
“Guess not,” you shrugged. 
He fell into a stride next to you, matching your slower pace. 
“So you’re a workaholic,” he teased. 
“I suppose. It’s only temporary, I need the money to pay my rent. I moved here not that long ago,” you said. 
He let out a tsk.
“You don’t have family to hold you over?” He questioned.
“No, I moved for my career.” 
Silence settled as the townhomes came into view. Why were you letting him walk with you? Why were you telling him personal things? It went against every survival instinct you knew. 
“Well this is me, I'm going to head home now,” you said as the two of you entered the neighborhood. 
“I’ll walk you to your door,” he said. 
“Oh you don’t have to-“
“I insist,” he said with enough permanence you knew it wasn’t up for debate. Perhaps he had been raised a gentleman and insisted on making sure you got home safe. 
When you were at your door you turned to thank him and saw he was watching you intently. 
“Thank you,” you said a little dismissively, hoping he’d leave now. 
“You’re welcome,” he said, with no sign of leaving. It was then you noticed how empty handed he was, a detail you had missed earlier due to his striking appearance.
“You don’t have any work equipment with you,” you stated suddenly your laptop bag on your shoulder felt much more heavy.
“Left my stuff at the office,” he replied coolly. 
Your heart began to thud.
The thud reminded you of the trio: the hair rising, the rustling, heart racing.
At the current moment they were all present except one.
One had stopped once this stranger had appeared and only silence had ensued in his presence besides his questions.
“I think I’ll be going inside now,” you said, quickly fumbling with the lock. 
As you opened the door and bolted in, his strong hand stopped it from closing. 
“Aren’t you going to invite me in?” He asked, smiling, his brilliant white canines like daggers. 
You tried to force the door close but his strength allowed him to open it just enough so he could side step inside. 
You backed away and he closed the door behind you, locking it ominously. 
Even more frightening, your laptop bag fell off your shoulder and onto the floor with a thud so loud it rivaled that of your heart.
“Now we can be alone,” he laughed as if it were an inside joke only he knew. 
“Please leave. Please don’t hurt me,” you began to plead.
He raised a brow.
“Hurt you? I’d never hurt you, unless you ask me to,” he teased. 
His demeanor was a combination of playful and menacing. 
Bridging the space between the two of you, his lips came down roughly on yours before you could even process it. 
Moaning into his mouth from the shock, your head spun as he devoured your tongue with his own. He was a good kisser, his lips moving skillfully. 
“I’ve wanted to do that for so long,” he whispered once the kiss broke apart. 
“What?” you asked. 
By way of response, his lips moved to your neck, and your body betrayed you by responding, a jolt of heat formulating between your thighs. 
“Mine. All mine,” he said between kisses on your neck. 
“I don’t even know your name,” you stammered. 
He laughed against your skin.
“Satoru,” he replied before continuing to lay kisses on your neck with his soft lips. 
“Satoru…” you repeated more to yourself than to him but you felt his lips curl up in a smile. 
“That’s right, it sounds so much nicer coming from you,” he said. 
His lips came down on yours again, more passionate and hungry than before. Your head began to spin when suddenly he broke away.
“Take me to your bedroom,” he demanded. 
“What?” you asked, voice shaky. 
“You don’t like that idea?” he asked. For a moment his face seemed extremely vulnerable but then it was replaced by a stern look. 
“No it’s not that, it’s just- I don’t know you,” you stammered, hoping he wouldn’t grow angry. On the contrary, your words made him playful again. 
“You don’t need to. I know you, I’ve been studying you,” he said, his hands going to rest at your hips now, “I know you’re lonely, so let me take care of you.” 
You couldn’t even feign offense. You were so deeply lonely. Moving here for your career away from everyone you knew was no easy feat. You had the same routine work, home, and occasionally the store for errands. His hands traveled lower resting right on your thighs, one hand gripped the flesh lightly. You let out a whimper at that. 
“That’s a good girl, I can tell you want me. So it looks like I’m just gonna have to take us to your bed myself.” 
The next thing you knew, he lifted you up with extreme ease, throwing you  over his shoulder with your rear end a little too close to his face. 
“Satoru!” you exclaimed. 
He seemed to move through your small home a little too comfortably, a little too familiar. 
Finding your bedroom at the end of the hall, he threw you down on the bed. 
Your face flushed with embarrassment at all your trinkets on shelves and your plushies on the bed, by all accounts you have never had a man over before. 
Satoru only seemed to have eyes for you, however.
He bent down on his knees before you, parting your legs open. He jeered at the sight of your white panties, easily accessible due to your wearing a skirt. 
You gasped and clamped your legs shut again. 
His eyes narrowed at that. 
“Don’t be rude, let me look,” he said. 
A part of you felt violated while another part of you felt excitement. 
“Satoru, this is all so fast,” you said. 
He raised a brow. 
“Actually it is not going fast enough for me. I’ve waited months for this moment,” he replied. 
It had been several times now he made comments of the sort implying he had been watching you, and it shifted things into perspective. 
The hair rising that had been your one and only companion in this stage of your life was due to him. 
“How long have you been watching me?” you asked. 
“Since you first moved in,” he replied simply as if it were the most normal thing in the world. He inched forward until he was hovering over you on the bed, his hands resting along on the mattress. He kissed you again and you fell further into the cot. You hated how your body seemed to love his touch so much, you were so responsive to him. You even felt your panties begin to dampen with arousal. 
When the kiss broke apart, he rubbed the tip of his nose against yours, an act of unwarranted intimacy for two strangers. 
“I want you and I intend to have you. I won’t take no for an answer,” he said directly. His striking eyes were serious.
“Satoru you’re handsome and I’m not saying no but this is just so sudden,” you said trying to hold on to some shred of dignity. 
“I want you and I know you want me, what more is there that needs to happen?” He asked. 
He slipped back into his prior position in front you before speaking again: “If I have to prove how good I can make you feel, I will do so gladly.” 
His hands effortlessly parted your legs again and when you tried to clamp them shut again he held them in place.
“Stop denying yourself pleasure,” he said. He smiled upon seeing the wet stain on your panties, “look at you all eager for me.” 
His voice grew husky and his eyes were lustful. His fingers intruded their way into your underwear, pushing them aside slightly so he had access to your folds. 
Your breathing hitched as you felt him find your clit, the mere touch inducing a pulsing sensation that was impossible to ignore.
“Satoru.. please..” you said but you didn’t know what you were pleading for anymore. 
Was it for him to stop? Was it for him to keep going? 
“Hmm?” He teased as his fingers gently rubbed little circles on your clit. 
Eyes rolling back in pleasure, you felt your resolve to resist him begin to fade away. 
“That’s a good girl. See you don’t know what you want, you have to be shown,” he said. Suddenly he stopped rubbing. Your expression like you just had cold water thrown on you made him laugh. “Don’t worry, I have something better.” 
He removed your heels, tossing them to the floor, soon afterward your underwear followed as he rolled them over your knees and discarded them. Your skirt remained, but it was thrown over your plush thighs, no longer offering coverage.
“Fuck, so this is your pretty little bud,” he whispered as he parted your legs again. 
You were still pulsating, it grew more fierce as he had stopped before you could reach your climax. 
He leaned forward smirking and suddenly you felt his tongue at your folds. He began to slurp at your arousal causing guttural moans to slip out of your mouth and your back to arch slightly. 
Your hands went to his soft hair as you searched for something to anchor you when every part of you felt like it was setting afloat. 
He was ravenous, his mouth greedily tasting every part of you, and he was nearly abusive to your clit with his rough laps. 
“That’s it… that’s a good girl,” he coaxed as he felt your sweet release coming on. He talked you through it, telling you sweet nothings of how good you looked right now and how he had fantasized about this for so long. 
Three. 
Two. 
One. 
And your breasts raised and fell like setting suns as you caught your breath. 
“Now I want you to do something for me too,” he said as he began to unbuckle his pants. 
“Satoru, wait,” you began to protest again. 
“I told you I won’t take no for an answer. I proved myself and made you feel good,” he said. He took his pants off so he was in his boxers, his shirt soon following after. Calloused hands pulled your skirt off. Your blazer and blouse were soon discarded roughly. 
He hovered over you again going to kiss your lips, salvia intermingling with yours so when he pulled away again a translucent string connected the two of you. Leaning back, he pulled down his boxers revealing his big cock, some slight precum on the angry pink tip. 
“Satoru.. I’m not on anything,” you began. 
He had been right, you were so dreadfully lonely it had been a long time since you had been touched like this.
He smiled as if he suspected no different.
“It’s fine. I’d look after you and the baby,” he said. 
You whine at this.
“Please, be serious,” you chastised. 
“Fine, I’ll pull out. I’ll take care of everything but for now,” he paused as he lined himself up with you, he placed his dick on top of your labia rubbing up and down before he continued, “just let yourself enjoy it.” 
Your body was on fire, every nerve seemed to make itself known and you were embarrassed by just how aroused you really were. 
He was so dreadfully attractive, the perfect predator. Even his scent was intoxicating as it wafted into your nostrils from having him so close.
The truth was you were doomed to lose from the moment he set his sights on you. He was the hunter and you had been the naive and ignorant prey. Everything about him was inviting. In truth that’s why you had let him walk with you, why you had told him personal details. In the end you had been responsible for your own demise but you couldn’t bring yourself to regret it.
Now you were going to have sex with your stalker, how fucked up was that? 
“You’re so fucking soaked,” he whispered as you felt him move his cock down and between your folds now. “Ahh.. fuck.. you’re so goddamn tight. How many guys have you let in here? Actually, don’t answer that. I don’t want to get mad.” 
You moaned as you felt yourself stretch to accommodate his impressive and imposing girth. He pushed himself deeper in, using his hands to wrap your legs around his waist so he could go even deeper still, until at last he was bottomed out inside you. 
He seemed delirious now, completely pussy drunk as he began to set a rhythmic pace of fast thrusts. 
“So big,” you whispered, but he heard you all the same, groaning at that. 
“Fuck.. I've wanted this since the moment I saw you.. Had to stop myself from taking you then and there-“ 
Your bed frame had begun to hit the wall with each thrust and you blushed to think of any neighbors who may hear. 
You could feel his pulse beating inside you as if it were your own and the lewd sound of wet skin slapping against skin only aroused you more. 
“Moan my name,” he commanded.
“Satoru..” you moaned. 
He groaned at that and his hands went to grope at your breasts, sensitive nipples spilling over onto his fingers as he continued to thrust into your mercilessly. 
“Such a little minx, you know that? I loved watching you.. following you.. coming into your place at night while you were sleeping.” 
Your eyes widened in fear at that, mortified.
No wonder he had been so familiar with your place. 
“Shh.. did that scare you baby? Don’t worry. I’d just watch you sleep is all. Sometimes I’d stroke myself off when you’d moan in your sleep. Believe me it took everything in me not to ram myself down your throat when you’d do that.. but even I have morals,” he laughed. 
You felt your heart racing in panic now, in fear of the invasion of your privacy but he took the opportunity to fuck you even harder than before. 
“‘Toru.. so rough,” you moaned as your hands went to his muscled back in an effort to stabilize yourself. 
“Fuck- your pussy is gripping me so much tighter. Thought you were scared, but maybe you like the attention.. hm?” 
His strokes became slower now, more deliberate. And for a moment his rough fucking turned into intimate love making as he kissed you, his tongue chasing after yours.
You felt yourself nearly close to your peak, and he felt it too, his lips moving to your neck biting as he returned to his fast speed.
He found your sweet gummy spot and his cock nicked it over and over, practically abusing it to the point of overstimulation that you felt tears of pleasure roll down your cheeks. 
“Satoru… it feels so good,” you moaned. 
“Yeah, I bet it does,” he teased, his own eyes half lied and full of lust.
He himself was enjoying this as well, enjoying how incredibly tight and warm you felt it was like nothing he had ever experienced before and well worth the months of waiting and meticulous studying of you. 
God, how he had enjoyed watching you, had enjoyed following you home from work every night. 
Tonight has been his breaking point, he couldn’t stay away any longer and when you didn’t resist him didn’t tell him to go away and that he could walk home with you.. well you had practically invited him to fuck you, or at least that’s how he saw it. 
“I’m.. I’m so close,” you whimpered underneath him. 
“Shh I know baby me too,” he cooed. 
“Satoru.. remember not inside-“ you tried to remind him, but your face was so flushed, makeup smeared, and voice so breathy, you couldn’t possibly mean that could you? 
Your words didn’t seem to have any effect on him as he continued to thrust into you. 
In truth he was imagining you pregnant, it would be a true testament that you were claimed by him, belonged to him. 
Because as far as he was concerned you did belong to him, he hadn’t invested all this time into you for nothing. 
“Fuck…” he groaned as he felt you gripping him even tighter still. 
Close so close.. 
Then the two of you finished and you screamed out in panic as his hot fluid rushed into you. 
“Shhh… it’s okay, baby,” he coaxed, shutting up your panicked babbles with a tongue filled kiss. You relaxed a little at that, he did have a way of calming you down with his touch, with his out of place intimacy which was far too familiar for what the two of you were to each other. 
He reluctantly pulled out of you and cradled you against his chest, stroking your hair and kissing your forehead. 
In this moment it was easy for you to close your eyes and pretend the two of you were lovers. 
Too bad the truth was much darker.
612 notes · View notes
hihomeghere · 1 year ago
Text
One Bed : Five Hargreeves / F!Reader
Part of the Tesoro Series (Can be read as a one shot)
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Word Count : 3.7K Summary : After a failed mission with the commission, both you and Five find a hotel to rest in. The only problem is, you'll have to share a bed. Aged up!Five. ( I do not own the umbrella academy or any of it's characters ) Warnings : Smut, cursing, mentions of headaches
“Damn It!” You groaned, leaning on your knees, your chest heaved. You changed back into yourself. Happy to be back in your body instead of a very hairy man with a limp. Your head pounded, you should have been more careful. After barely getting any sleep last night you should have known better than to push your abilities. You coughed, spitting bile out onto the pavement in front of you. A crackle of blue light appeared next to you before Five flew out of the portal. He was equally out of breath.
“Where did they go?” He turned to you, throwing his hands up.
“I don’t know,” you spit glaring at him, your emotions running high, “he disappeared.” You waved in front of you. Your lungs screamed, drinking in oxygen in deep breaths, letting your lungs inflate to their limit before breathing out again. 
“Disappeared?” He yelled, whipping his head to look at you. His hair falling out of his neat side part. He ran a hand through his hair, letting out a strangled scream.
“Where were you huh?” You hissed, narrowing your eyes “You could have blinked after him if you were here!” He glared at you, his face scrunched into a sour expression.
“God you are unbelievable!” He groaned, clenching his fists. His hands glowed blue before fizzling out, “I pushed myself too hard, I barely made it back to you!” You huffed rolling your eyes. Fighting would get you nowhere, Five loved arguing. When there was a fire lit in him he was an eternal flame, furning for days on end. Once you had stolen his favorite coffee mug, for no other reason than he had said something to piss you off. That was a week of hell you never wanted to relive.
“Look,” you took a breath, “we’re both tired, let’s just go find a hotel and get some rest.” You put your hands up in defeat.
He clenched his jaw, the muscle tightening. He huffed looking around.
“Fine, but you’ll follow my plan tomorrow, got it?” He pointed a finger at you. You didn’t know if it was his age, but the way he would scold you like a child drove you insane. 
“Fine.” You said through gritted teeth. “Shall we?” You asked motioning to your parked car. He moved past you, hitting your shoulder as he went. You sighed following him, hurt blooming in your chest. You hung your head as you walk to the car.
He stopped, turning back to look at you. You didn’t have the best poker face, not with him at least. You looked down at the ground, refusing to meet his eyes. He bit his lip, guilt washing over him in waves. 
Five had always been in agreement with himself, being alone in the apocalypse there was no room for second guessing. It was live or die every second of every day. When a simple infection from a paper cut could have as easily killed him as a broken bone, Five was always thinking ten steps ahead. Even after the commission picked him up his survival instincts hadn’t fully gone away. Whether he was in the field or not, his primal instincts still had him making decisions quickly and with no room for reflection. This was his way of life, learning layouts of offices, the nearest escape routes. Until you barged into his life.
With you, Five was constantly second guessing his actions. Normally he wouldn’t have given a shit if he was abrasive, cold or unfriendly. He didn’t come to make friends, he came to save the world. He had a job to do, and more importantly a plan. To get back to his family and stop the apocalypse. You were never a part of that plan. He had already calculated his steps when you came in throwing in three more steps to an already difficult dance. Sashaying your way into his life and heart. 
He walked in front of you, cursing himself as he opened up the door of the 1977 Isuzu Gemini SL Coupe. He gave you a small smile as you got in. He closed the door behind you before walking to the driver side and getting in. 
You drove in silence, leaning your head on the window. It throbbed from having to change into so many people. You rubbed your temple, praying for a shower and a warm bed.
Five’s hands gripped the wheel, he was spent. His body ached and the cramp in his shoulder was getting worse as he drove. The stress probably wasn’t helping. He stole glances at you every once and awhile. The only thing illuminating your face was the street lights as he passed under them. 
He sighed under his breath, he shouldn’t have snapped at you. And it’s not like he was mad at you, he was mad at himself. He had let the guy get away, he had been worried about your safety. He had lost you at the beginning of the warehouse. The whole time he had been jumping around looking for you instead of the target. He knew he had made a mistake, using his powers for his personal gain instead of the mission. If the handler only knew, he would never be assigned with you again. Good thing she didn’t. As much as he tried to deny it he had started to enjoy working with you. You helped him maintain his humanity, like Delores had. You two were very similar, both kind, selfless, always thinking ahead. He admired your ability to stay true to your heart, even in your line of business.
He pulled off into a parking lot. Passing the glowing red sign that blinked vacancy. He rolled into a parking spot, putting the car in park. You both sat in silence, you sighed looking into the hotel lobby.
“I-“ Five started before cutting himself off, you raised your head looking at him. He stared straight ahead, his hand lazily draped on the wheel. “I’m sorry.” He mumbled, his gaze dropped to his lap.
“It’s ok.” You said touching his arm, “We’re both tired and overworked.” You looked over at him, your head throbbed. You shut your eyes covering them with your hand.
“Is it your head?” He asked, looking over at you. You nodded tears pricking in your eyes, “Hey, let’s get inside.” He said squeezing your shoulder. You nodded, wiping away tears that slipped past your eyelashes. Five opened the door, stepping out of the car. You followed him into the hotel lobby, the bell ringing as Five opened the door. 
You winced, sitting down on a leather chair. The fake leather had started to crack, you mindlessly picked at the flakes. The orange carpet under your shoes had multiple stains, you wrinkled your nose in disgust. 
Five walked up to the counter, his hand hovered over the bell before he looked back at you. He put his hand back into his pocket and leaned on the counter.
“Hello?” He said looking around. An older man walked out, he had a full unkempt mustache. Frizzy hair to his jaw, his tall body squeezed into a tweed suit. “One room please.” He said handing him twenty bucks. The man nodded, plucking a key off the wall behind him. He handed it to him, Five turned the red pass over in his hands. He walked back over to you, your head in your hands. His heart squeezed in his chest, he needed to get you to bed. He gently shook your shoulder. “Come on,” he said, helping you to your feet. You gripped his bicep, leaning on him. Any sense of pride had left your body when your headache started. He led you to your room, putting the key in the hole. He had to jiggle it slightly before the lock gave out.
Fives face fell as he took in the room. Only one bed. 
“Damn it.” He muttered, shaking his head, you walked over to the bed. Sinking down onto it as you reached down to untie your shoes. “I’ll sleep on the floor.” He said matter of factly, sighing.
“Five.” He looked into your tired eyes. “We’re both adults, just take the other side of the bed.” You shrugged off your suit jacket, pushing yourself off the bed. You pulled out a hanger and hung your suit jacket up. You unzipped your pants, Five felt heat creep up his neck. You had undressed in front of him before, why did this bother him so much? You unbutton your blouse, hanging it up as well. God, your head hurts. It was no longer throbbing, but pounding. 
“I’m gonna go take a shower.” You mumbled walking to the bathroom. 
Five sat down on the edge of the bed. He untied his shoes, setting them down next to the bedside table. He listened to the shower turn on, your soft voice humming as the rings of the shower curtain scraped across the metal bar. Five swallowed, his mind started to wander. He imagined you washing your body. The suds over your breasts, letting out a sigh of relief as the hot water washed over you. He felt his dick jump in his pants. He pictured your hands traveling lower down your body, over your soft stomach, reaching between your legs. His dick was standing at attention now. He had a good couple minutes before you would be out. He reached down, rubbing himself through his pants. He could only imagine your hands instead of his, your hot breath fanning over his neck, lips, ear. He leaned back, letting his back hit the bed. He tugged at his belt, undoing the buckle. He unbuttoned his pants pulling them down with his underwear. His dick, no longer confined to his pants, sprung free onto his stomach. He spit into his hand, lubricating his dick. He ran his palm over the tip, once, twice, before he noticed the water had turned off. He quickly pulled his pants back up, buttoning them. He stood up walking over to the window, pulling back the thin green curtain. Trying to act as nonchalant as possible. 
You opened the door. Your hair still slightly damp, you had a fluffy robe wrapped around your body. He turned slightly to look at you. You smiled at him, the windows low light illuminating him perfectly. He was reminiscent of a painting of an angel, the hotel sign acting as holy rays behind him. He stood tall, his arms crossed over his broad chest. 
“All yours.” You sighed happily, throwing yourself onto the shitty mattress. The box spring whined as your body hit it. He nodded before taking a couple steps to the bathroom. 
You laid back, combing through your hair with your fingers. You slipped under the covers, the throbbing in your head was now only a slight ache. You heard the water turn on, and shut off after a few minutes. Five opened the door, a towel hung low on his waist. Your eyes traveled down his body, for his toned chest to his firm stomach. You took in all his scars, one above his belly button, it looked like an old knife wound. Your eyes traveled further to his v, a small patch of hair leading from his chest to his hips. You looked away, a blush creeping onto your cheeks. He was drying his hair with a towel so thankfully he didn’t see you ogling him. He walked over to the bed, pulling the covers back. He sank down, the bed dipping with his weight. He laid back, his arm brushing against yours. Electricity flew up your arm.
“Night.” You said softly, he hummed in response. You rolled over, away from him. Looking out the window, listening to his breathing.
-
When you woke up, it was still dark. The sun hadn’t come up but the sky was turning more of a light blue. You felt Five’s warm arm wrapped around your waist, and Five’s breath fanning across your neck. His hand was splayed out over your stomach, holding you tightly against him. You sighed contently, enjoying the closeness to the man you had come to develop feelings for. Although any pure thoughts disappeared when he rolled his hips against your ass. A low groan left his throat, which seemed to shoot directly to your core. 
You froze, you could feel his erection pressing against you. Experimentally you rolled your hips back into his, he moaned nuzzling your neck.
The angel on your shoulder yelled in your ear to wake him up. You savored the feeling, trying to memorize exactly how he felt against you, saving the memory for a later time when you were alone in your apartment, before you nudged him slightly.
“Hmmm?” He mumbled into your ear.
“Five, wake up.” You said nudging him again. He jolted up, taking in the situation. 
“Oh god,” he said, pulling away from you, his voice gravely from sleep. “Jesus, I didn’t mean, if I’ve made you uncomfortable in any way I-“ he groaned, running a hand over his face.
“Five. It’s ok,” You said, pulling his hand away. Looking at him in the low light, he was breathless, a light layer of perspiration on his body. Your mouth watered as you took him in. “If you wanted to, I wouldn't be opposed…” you trailed off your eyes locking onto his face. He froze, his lips slightly parted. He tilted his head, his brows furrowing. He stared down at his hands, deep in thought. “I don’t want to pressure you into doing anything.” He said softly, you smiled. For a man who was always so self-assured, he seemed so unsure of himself.
“I’m offering. This is just to get some relief, no strings attached.” You said biting your lip, you untied your robe. Letting it fall around your body. Now having no protection from the cold night air, you felt your nipples harden. Five’s eyes raked over your body, you felt yourself grow hot under his gaze. He stared at you like you were a cool glass of water in the apocalypse. 
Five was sure he had been murdered in his sleep. There was no possible reality where you were all but throwing yourself at him. All Five wanted to do was ruin you and make you his. Make you crave him as much as he craved you. He couldn’t remember the last time he had even had sex, possibly in his early days at the commission, but only to get his dick wet. He didn’t care about those girls, now you on the other hand were something special. And you were naked, in his bed. 
“Right, no strings attached.” He repeated back to you. His fingers twitched and you could feel his hesitation. You grabbed one of his hands, squeezing it gently. You brought his hand up to your breast, he let out a shaky breath, his eyes finding yours for confirmation. You leaned forward to nibble his neck, kissing over the bites. He shivered his body tensing, you grinned your breath fanning over his jaw. He pinched one of your nipples, smirking as you gasped. He ducked his head, his mouth covering your other nipple, his tongue flicking the bud. Your hand tugged on his hair, he sighed around your breast.
“You’re gonna be the death of me.” He groaned, you chuckled looking up at him through your eyelashes. His erection was now painfully stretching against his underwear, you grabbed him through his boxers. He let out a pained noise, like he was being stabbed instead of pleasured. He was puddy in your hands, ready to be shaped anyway you wished. He pushed you back against the bed. In a sudden shift in dominance, his lips found your neck, kissing and nipping slightly. You bucked against his body, your nipples rubbing slightly against his bare chest. His hands mapped a path down your body, like he was trying to memorize it. Unbeknownst to you he was. His fingers found your clit, testing the waters. You gasped, your hand finding its way into his hair. You pulled at his scalp slightly, earning a low groan from him. He slipped one finger inside you, curling it as he thrusted it inside you. You moaned softly, any pain from your headache was now long gone. He added a second finger, his eyes never leaving your face. You couldn’t decide whether you wanted to cower under his gaze or beg for more. Your skin was ablaze, Five’s touch was electric, his incredibly eager fingers thrusting and curling inside you. You gripped the sheets, pleasure building in your stomach. That familiar coil tightening inside of you. 
He pulled his fingers out of you, bringing them up to his lips, sucking them clean. “Shit, you’re sweet.” He hummed, swiping the head of his dick down your folds, lubricating himself with your slick. You both shuddered as his velvety soft tip found your entrance.
“Are you sure about this?” He asked softly, his other hand rubbing light circles on your thigh. You hadn’t expected him to be so doting, tales circulated around the commission of the absolute animal Five was in bed. But as his green eyes peered into yours, you could put those rumors to rest. You felt entirely bare, like he was peeling back the layers of your soul. The alarm bells had been ringing in your ears, this man was a killer. He was a survivor, stepping on anyone he had to, to get to where he was. He was a mercenary, follower of no moral code, but if he was all of these things why did he hold you like you were made of glass?
“Yes.” You said, propping yourself up on your elbows. He lowered his gaze pushing the head of his cock in slowly. You both let out a moan, he hissed, baring his teeth.
“Christ you’re tight.” He sighed his eyes squeezing close. His hands gripped your hips, his nails dug in leaving crescent shaped marks. Although you couldn’t seem to care, you had never felt so full in your life. Your hands gripped his thighs for dear life, a strangled cry left your throat as he thrust all the way in, knocking the breath out of your lungs. He stilled, a blissed out smile on his lips. You wiggled your hips, trying to get any stimulation from him.
“Fuck me.” You whined, grabbing his face, forcing you to look at him. His eyes widened before a devilishly handsome smile split his face.
“Yes ma’am.” He started a slow rhythm, his dick spearing you every time he thrusted into you. Long, hard strokes. His cock rubbed at the spongy part inside of you and you mewled. “You like that, sweetheart?” He teased a mischievous glint in his eye, you couldn’t help but nod, stroking his ego along with his cock. He took the lead titling your hips up, throwing one of your legs over his shoulders. You needed him closer. Gripping at any part of him you could get your hands on, your nails raking down his back. He moaned, breathy and high pitched. Your breath was stolen out of your chest as he quickened his pace, going deeper than before. 
“Oh fuck, Five.” You groaned holding onto his shoulders, your tits bouncing.
“You’re gripping me so good tesoro.” He grimaced, his eyes fluttering close. He let out a strangled cry against your leg. Biting down harshly before kissing your calf. You yelped fingernails digging into his thighs.
“I’m close, I’m so close.” You babbled tears slipping down your cheeks, every part of you was screaming out in pleasure. This spurred him on, one of his hands traveled between the two of you rubbing tight circles on your clit. You swore you saw stars, your toes curled and you couldn’t help the high pitched whine that ripped its way out of your throat. He leaned forward, his body looming over yours. His arms effectively trapping you underneath him. Working you through your orgasm as he grinded his hips against you, using your leg as leverage. 
“I’m not gonna last.” He mumbled his forehead resting against yours, wincing slightly. You grinned, reveling in the fact that you had such an effect on him.
“Cum then.” You said before sucking a deep purple mark on his neck. You felt his breath catch in his throat against your lips.
“S-shit.” He thrusted hard into you, “you’re so fucking perfect,” He moaned his hips stuttering as he came. “Oh god I love you.” You froze, he loved you? He stopped, pulling out almost immediately. “I don’t know why I said that.” He recoiled, putting as much distance as he could between the two of you. He grabbed his discarded towel, covering himself with it as he stumbled off the bed. You pulled the sheet up, covering your breasts.
“Five it’s fine,” you said sitting up.
“No. It’s not.” He growled, the sudden shift in his demeanor made you recoil. You pulled the sheet tighter around your body, suddenly all too aware of your nudity. “This never should have happened.” He motioned between the two of you.
“It’s just sex. It’s not like you meant it!” You justified, your voice higher than you intended.
He stopped, the outline of his body harsh against the street lamp outside. His head turned slightly, allowing you to see only part of his face. You could see him mentally building his walls back up, brick and mortar in his eyes.
“Five, it’s not like you meant it.” You said it more as a question than a statement, hating the slight waver in your voice. His body tensed as he sucked in a breath, he raised his shoulders.
“No. I must have been thinking of someone else.” He said coolly. Ouch. The air was sucked out of the room as he stormed into the bathroom. Slamming the door behind him. Your heart broke in your chest, slicing up your insides. You swallowed thickly, your mind struggling to keep up with Five’s constant whiplash. One minute he’s taking you to the gates of heaven only to taunt you as he drags you back to hell. 
This was all your fault, you put your head in your hands. You shouldn’t have suggested anything and just lived with the constant sexual tension.
No strings attached your ass.
part two here
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a-b-riddle · 3 months ago
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Sins of the Father
cw: shifter romance. A/B/O dynamics. Angst. Grovel. Hurt/comfort. Sick children. Loss of parents. Last name mentioned for reader (sorry but they have to call her something). I’ll add more if I think of any. I’m back in my wattpad era. cringe. Reader is early to mid twenties. Related to story sorry :(
pairings: poly141 x OFC
Summary: For seven years you have lived as an outcast in your own pack. Shunned, you had to make due to ensure not only your own survival but your younger sister’s as well. Now, after years of failing to shift and being labeled as broken, the connection that the gods had chosen for you clicks into place. Much to uour dismay, it’s not only person who sentenced you to exile, but his three betas as well.
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There were two rules above all else in your world:
1) Don’t disobey the Alpha.
2) Don’t sneak off packlands.
Since there was a direct order from Alpha Price to stay in the territory, you were breaking both. But the alphahole was twisting your arm at this point. It was either obey him and let Rosie die or say fuck it and she might be able to fight the infection.
Rosie 13 months old when your mother went missing. Four months later, your father had challenged Price. His wounds had been fatal and the consequence for his betrayal had fallen upon you and Rosie. She was still a baby and you were still a child yourself. But you guess the daughters were meant to pay for the sins of their father.
And Rosie had paid nearly all of her life for what your father had done. No medical aid given. Your monthly rations were whatever was leftover. Year after year the rations had dwindled down to the point where it wasn’t enough to sustain you both through a quarter of the way through the winter.
You had learned long ago that being a part of a pack didn’t make you part of the pack. Which was why you had to rely on trading with the humans in order to get medicine and non-perishable goods.
Tonight was the night before the run. No one except border patrol would be out and no one keeps tabs on what happens to the Blackburn girls. No one would be looking out for the pack’s pariah at this time of night.
You couldn’t breathe easy until your cottage came into view. You were thankful that you were so far away from the rest of the pack and remained at the edge of the border. The five mile trek had been taken down to a little over two.
Rosie was still tucked in bed just as she had been the last two days. The cold cloth on her forehead no doubt warm now. She stirred awake as the door creaked shut behind you. “Sissy?” Her voice rasped, sounding more like old hag than a 9-year-old girl.
“Hey Rosie Posey,” You greeted softly as you pulled the pill bottle from your backpack. “Miss Oliver says hi. Hopes to see you soon.”
Miss Oliver was a doctor that you had met years ago. Anytime Rosie got too sick for you to handle, you sought her out. She had always been willing to help. Even given the difference in species.
Rosie took the medicine without fuss and settled back into bed after offering a quiet, “thank you.”
You put away the supplies you had gotten. After changing out of your sweaty clothes, you had washed off with a basin of water and a rag in the corner of the room. The fire had now dwindled down to glowing embers.
You laid down next to her and almost by instinct, her body moved closer to yours. No doubt seeking any warmth she could.
It was hard. Having maternal feelings for a child who was meant to be your sibling. Having to become a mother before you really got the chance to be a sister.
You were just grateful she was still here.
It was moments like this when the hate you had for Price and the pack left your body body. When Rosie’s breathing becomes clear and her skin doesn’t burn beneath your touch. Where for just a moment you don’t live a crumbling shack. You feel safe and the worries of tomorrow escape you.
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jellalism · 3 months ago
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Kinktober 2024, Day 12: Consequence (Erotica)
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You were caught by Noel, and now you have to suffer the consequences of your escape attempt. Sequel to Day 5: Sneak.
Word count: 2441 words
Genre: Erotica, horror
Reader’s gender and sex: gender neutral, but “boy/girl” used. Reader does not wear a bra.
Content warnings: Yandere and all that that entails, including sadism/torture, rape/dubcon, manipulation. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT.
Notes: Noel is an OC of @devotion-disorder. The art in the banner is also by them!
Read below or on AO3.
“Go on. Walk. You know the way to the punishment room.” Noel gives you a push in the back, making you stumble forward, forcing you further up the stairs. “The more you dawdle, the worse it will be. Time’s ticking, honey.” The way he uses that term is nowhere near cute. It is possessive. He uses it specifically to remind you to who you belong. Anyone else who’d call you ‘honey’ would soon eat their words… or become unable to speak any word at all.
You obediently make your way upstairs. Your body already hurts. The blood drips from your nose into your mouth and down your chin. The way he has kicked you in the back and slammed his body into yours once you were on the ground makes you feel sore all over. But you know it’s going to get worse. I’d better obey him, you think. There’s no way out.
“See? You can obey me. If only you had done that earlier, we would not be in this sticky situation. But noooo, you just had to try to break out.” He smacks your ass hard, but your trousers take some of the impact. For now. “Now I have to punish you.”
You reach the top of the stairs and go right without a word. To the punishment room, right next to the bedroom. The activities done in one room may easily lead to the adjoining one.
“Stand there.” He points some distance away from the door. He fishes a key out of his pocket and opens the door. “After you.” He holds the door open for you. For just a second, you hesitate, but you know you have no choice. Any survival instincts kicking in must be repressed. You have to embrace the pain to survive, counter-intuitive though it is.
The room is filled with all kinds of devices to inflict pain. There’s different whips, pads, cuffs, and things you don’t even know the use of. ‘Punishment room’ is a euphemism; ‘torture chamber’ is more apt. In the middle, a wooden table stands.
“On it. On your back. I want to see your face.”
You do as he says. Noel roughly grabs your wrists and clicks them into the cuffs attached to the table. They’re above shoulder height, so they don’t twist your arms too badly. But that’s not the point of the cuffs, anyway. The point is not even to stop you from escaping—Noel is strong and fast enough to do that with his body. The point is simply to make you feel helpless. To be unable to reflexively lift your arms in self-defense, to be unable to have that basic biological function do its work, adds to the utter despair that he can arouse in you. That he will arouse in you.
He takes your ankles and cuffs them to the table, as well. Your legs are a little ways apart.
“Oh, it seems like you still have your clothes on. Totally forgot about that!” Noel says, clearly acting. You can’t see him from your position. “Guess we’ll have to rid you of them unconventionally.” And suddenly, he hangs over you, showing you a knife. It looks sharp as hell. Your breathing grows shallow. You hope he isn’t going to do what you think he will.
He moves to the side of the table and positions the knife at the neck of your shirt. Then he presses down. You feel it pressing into your skin. He takes your shirt and starts cutting. He doesn’t press the knife into your body every time. But every once in a while, you feel the sharp blade moving over your torso, opening it up, no doubt making you bleed.
“Noel, I’m afraid,” you mutter. You didn’t even think about the words; they just came out automatically. Strangely, sometimes you find that you want him to comfort you. He’s always there for you, after all. The only one who’s there. And sometimes, in your despair, you cry out for him.
“You’re afraid? As you should be.” He finishes cutting and tears the remainders of your shirt from your body. You feel the cloth covering your back slide out from under you. Your entire torso is now displayed to him. “Bad [boy/girl]s won’t get any comfort from me. You fucked around. Now it’s time to find out.”
He clenches his fist and smashes it into your stomach. Pain sears through you. You feel the bile rising in your throat, but swallow it down. Then you sputter and cough, and scream.
“See? No pity from me. It’s all your fault, you know? I can be nice. You know I can be nice. I love you, and I want nothing but the best for you. You know this.” He caresses your face with the knife, leaving a shallow cut on your left cheek. “That’s why I’m hurting you. It would be terrible for you and me both if you were to continue misbehaving. So I need to beat it out of you.”
“P-please,” you stammer in fear. You know it won’t do anything, but the words just spill from your mouth.
Noel ignores you. He moves to the back of the table, outside of your field of vision. “Time to get started on your trousers.” He sets the knife at the bottom, making a cut in the cloth near your right ankle. “Fuck it, I don’t have time for this.” You hear the sound of tearing cloth and feel cold air running up all over your leg. He does the same for your left leg: a small cut at the bottom, and rest is just one big tear. For the last part, near your waist, he takes out his knife again. He doesn’t hold back this time. He sets the knife in the cloth forcefully and cuts the last bit of cloth efficiently, without regard for your skin. You whimper and cry as the knife leaves a deep cut. You hear Noel chuckle.
He quickly removes the tatters of your trousers from your body. You’re only wearing your underwear now, though there’s not much left of it. But there’s still enough to conceal your most private parts.
“I’ll leave that on for now.”
You sigh in relief. A last shred of dignity can be retained. It is a tiny shred, but you have to take what you can get.
“Just kidding!” And he tears your underwear apart, exposing your genital area.
“Noel!” you cry out.
“What is it, baby?” He sounds cruel.
“Noel… please… I’m s-sorry. I’m so so sorry. I won’t do it again, I swear!” You’ve completely lost control of your mouth, rattling off apologies without even thinking about it.
He moves so that you can see him again. “No can do. I told you: if you are naughty, you will be punished. It’s not like I want to hurt you, but it’s necessary. You should never ever forget what happens when you break the rules. The consequences of that should be as dependable as gravity.” He says that, but you know better. He fucking loves to hurt you. Part of him is happy you broke the rules, so that he has a good excuse for fucking demolishing you. Knowing that only intensifies the fear.
“I’m sorry,” you sob, but to no avail.
Meanwhile, Noel moves back and rummages around. “Ah, got it!” He steps towards you to show you his find. A whip. But not just any whip: this one has spiky studs. “This will be a night to remember, y/n.”
“Please, for the love of God, Noel, stop!” Tears are streaming down your face; the terror he inspires in you is out of this world. “I beg of you!”
“Hmmm… should I stop?”
“Please, Noel! I’ll do anything for you! Please, just… don’t hurt me.” Something inside of you breaks, and you start sobbing even louder, making you unable to speak another word.
Noel just laughs. Suddenly, you feel a searing pain on your thighs, and you scream at the top of your lungs. As soon as you finish the scream, you gulp for air, but then the whip strikes again. Another scream escapes you; your entire world is pain. Somewhere in the back of your consciousness, you hear Noel complain giddily about how you make too much noise, but it doesn’t register. All you can do is sob and scream.
More lashings follow—you don’t even know how many, nor how long it lasts. Just that, at some point, the burning pain stops renewing itself. Suddenly, Noel’s face is right above yours; too close. “Now that’s what I like to see. You’ve learned your lesson now, right?”
You nod shakily, unable to do anything else. He could be asking you to sell your soul and you’d still nod; all you want is for the pain to end.
“Good, good.” He undoes the cuffs around your wrists and ankles. You feel his arms slide under you and, with a grunt, he lifts you up and walks out of the room. You both know you wouldn’t be able to walk by yourself. Still sobbing, you snuggle against him. God, how you missed him. This softer Noel. The one that would hold you in his arms.
He chuckles. “You’re such a good [boy/girl] now.”
A few moments later, he throws you on the bed. It doesn’t come as a surprise that he carried you to the bedroom. Noel is undressing hurriedly, unable to wait another moment.
“On your stomach. And place a pillow under yourself, so that your ass sticks out.”
You’re not sure if this is part of the punishment, or just ‘business as usual’. Things blend into each other. But at least, when he fucks you, he’s not as cruel as he is in that other room. So, for all intents and purposes, this is not punishment; this is a treat. Even though he’ll fuck on his own terms, as hard as he wants.
You obey him and, within seconds, you feel him take his place behind you. Two lubed up fingers massage the rim of your asshole. “You always make me so horny, you know? I love to see you happy, but God, your crying face just makes me want to fuck you so hard.” He slips in a finger and thrusts it in and out at a high pace. “I just can’t wait to fuck all those sweet moans out of you. It was so hard for me too, you know? To not thrust my cock inside you then and there.” Already, he adds a second finger. “You’re still tight, but I’ve waited so long, I can’t just…” He doesn’t finish his sentence.
You want to speak, but you’re still unable to, your body completely broken and shaking all over. Noel continues his preparation of your ass. After a little more than a minute, he thinks he has prepared you enough. You’re not quite so sure, but you don’t struggle. If he thinks it’s enough, it must be enough. What Noel says goes.
“Ready for my cock, love?” He is holding your waist as you feel the head of his penis stimulating the rim of your anus. He presses inside; his impatience in the preparation makes it a little tight still, but he enters. There’s pain, but compared to the pain elsewhere in your body, it’s negligible. He sighs deeply, contentedly. “So damn good.”
He changes his position to lay on top of you, covering your body with his. With one hand, he pins your right hand to the mattress; the other wraps under your left armpit and grabs you at the throat roughly. Your breathing becomes more labored as he constricts the air flow.
“You like that, huh? Being all mine. You don’t get to breathe unless I allow it, got that?” He starts moving his cock, thrusting in and out slowly. His member is rather thick, and it always takes a while for your hole to get used to it.
When you don’t reply, he shortly squeezes your throat hard before loosening his grip, leaving you gasping for air. “I said, did you get that?”
“Y-y-yes, Noel.” Your voice comes out as a wheeze.
“Good,” he coos. “That’s how I know my sweetheart.” He lets go of your throat and pins your other hand to the mattress, too. “I think you’re loosened up enough by now.”
It’s true; his cock is going in and out more easily than it was before.
“Let me paint your insides white.” With those words, he starts fucking you in earnest. Hard and deep; with each thrust you scream it out. “That’s it, y/n!” he moans in your ear. “Let it out. Let me hear how good you feel.”
And, despite everything, he was right: you did feel good. He had abused you, even tortured you. But that was the punishment, which was over now. So, surely, now you could enjoy yourself… right? It was hard to think straight around him. He didn’t allow you the space in your mind.
“How does it feel, baby?” Not having gotten his answer in words, his tone became more demanding. He accompanied it with a particularly hard thrust. The pain surged through you, but there was pleasure, too.
“Feels so good!” you mewled. “Noel… Noel…” You moan his name over and over, and he, with his mouth so close to your ear, whispers yours. You can feel his breath and hear every tiny sound he makes.
“See? If you behave, I’ll fuck you nicely. Isn’t it pleasant like this?”
“Yes, Noel.” You’re not even sure anymore if you mean what you say, or what the causal chain of events is. Did you agree with him because it is pleasant, or is it pleasant because you agreed with him?
“That’s a good [boy/girl].” His breathing grows more labored as he keeps penetrating you deeply. “I’m going to cum soon,” he whispers in your ear. “I’m gonna cum inside, and fill you up really good. You did so good bearing the punishment. You deserve it, you deserve my thick cock shooting it all inside you.” His voice grows more frenetic as he gets closer to ejaculation. He moans and groans and you feel his cock throbbing inside of you. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum. Fuuuuck.” With a final thrust, he shoots his load inside of you. He can’t help but twitch inside of you as he ejaculates. “God damn, you feel so good.”
You feel a warm feeling welling up inside you. It’s happiness. You feel happy you can please him.
You’ve truly become his bitch.
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bennysblabbering · 3 months ago
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Doctor's Treatment
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Kinktober: "Medical Play" || Tamayo x reader
contents: masks, gloves, fingering, clit play, praise & reassurance, talking you through it
words: 2.3k
g/n afab reader
↓ Fic below the cut ↓
The cool night air fills your lungs as you take in a deep breath and knock on the tall wood door, the soft yellow light from inside illuminating the porch through the stained glass. After a few moments, the door swings open and you’re greeted by the face of a white-haired demon, a scowl present on his expression as his intense lavender eyes scan you up and down. You clear your throat awkwardly with a smile. “Good evening, Yushiro. Is…Tamayo home?”
He stays silent for a moment, his eyes narrowing. “What do you want with her?”
“I just wanted her advice on something.”
“No.”
He starts to close the door before the aforementioned woman walks down the hall, stopping the door with her hand before it reaches the frame.
“Come on, now, Yushiro, let Y/N in.”
The annoyed man rolls his eyes with a flat expression, moving aside to let you enter. Despite your awareness of your friend being a demon, you were on good terms; you’d found out by complete accident, but it never changed the way you saw her. If anything, it made you like her more- that despite her instincts, she still chose to be gentle and kind, and wanted to help people by having a career that helps humans the most. 
With Yushiro not wanting to give you the time of day, the two of you make your way into the living room, the both of you sitting cross-legged in front of a short table. Tamayo gazes at you warmly and tilts her head with a gentle smile. “What brings you here, Y/N? Is there something you came to see me for, or did you just drop in to say hi?”
“Well…I thought with your medical knowledge, you could help me figure out a problem I’ve been having. I just can’t figure out what it is for the life of me.”
“Of course.” She nods, concerned. “I’ll help you however I can.”
You sigh, gaze wandering around the room as you try to find the right words. “I guess…I’ve just been feeling both mentally and physically off. It’s hard to verbalize. I’ve been so irritable and annoyed at everything all the time, and I feel this…tightness in my body, like on the inside. Like there’s this knot being pulled harder and harder every day. I’m not sure what any of it means, or if my emotional and physical conditions even have anything to do with each other. I feel like they are, but…I don’t know…am I even making any sense?”
You look back up at the woman across the table to see her brows furrowed and compassionate violet eyes softened. “It seems this has really been distressing you, Y/N. Let’s move to my research room and I can examine you, if that’s alright.”
You nod, following her down the hall into what looks like a study; the walls were clad floor-to-ceiling in bookshelves, many of the titles suggesting the contents were medical textbooks. In the corner was a small twin-size bed next to a desk, a book already opened and a page about medicinal flowers on display. You sit down on the edge of the mattress as the doctor opens a drawer in the desk. She pulls out a plain white cloth mask and ties the string ends behind her head, before donning a latex glove on each hand. “You’ll have to forgive my formality. I trust you enough to tell you that I haven’t eaten in about a week, and being up close with a human would test my limits closer than what I’m comfortable with. I’d never hurt you, but this is for both your safety and mine.” 
You blink in surprise and nod as your heartbeat quickens slightly. You trust her as well, but it’s truly donning on you that she really is a demon. She eats blood to survive. But the fact that she has enough self-reason to but a barrier between the two of you shows that she truly would never want to bring you any harm.
“Okay, you can lay on your back. Let me know if anything hurts or feels uncomfortable, alright?”
“Alright.” You follow her request, swinging your legs up and turning your body to lay supine on the bed, crossing your hands together behind your head and laying on them. Two delicate gloved fingers press onto your jugular vein, checking your pulse while you try to steady your breathing. 
“Hm. A little fast, but nothing to worry about.” She continues moving her fingers down your neck and into the dip of your collar bone, examining your skin and lymph nodes with her fingertips. Gently and attentively, she kneads at the sensitive flesh, making your breath hitch. It almost felt…good. 
Ghosting her hands lower, she looks into your eyes with an inquisitive look. “Would it be alright if I touched your breasts? We would need to remove your shirt if so.”
Your pulse quickens even more and you pray that she doesn’t check it again. You gulp and nod; it had been a long time since anyone had touched you there. Now that you thought about it…it had been a long time since anyone had touched you at all. Of course she’s a doctor and she’d be professional about it, but you can’t pry your thoughts away from the idea of such a beautiful woman touching you in an intimate area. 
Sitting up so you can pull the shirt off your head, the brisk air of the room surrounds your exposed skin, making your nipples immediately harden. You can feel your cheeks heat up as you lay back down and look away while she begins to poke and prod at the malleable mounds. It wasn’t akin to a lover affectionately massaging them, but it certainly felt better than nothing. She lightly squeezes a nipple and you have to choke back a whimper, attempting to cover it up by pretending to clear your throat. She stops the movement and draws her hand away, her eyes moving back up to your face.
“I’m sorry, Y/N, does that hurt?”
You shake your head, the blush present on your cheeks betraying you as it only intensified. “No, no, sorry. It’s fine. It doesn’t hurt.”
“That’s good. From what I’ve already observed and examined of you, you seem fine to me. At this point, there’s only one solid conclusion I can make.”
“And that is…?”
She crosses her arms, blinking with her gaze wandering away from yours as she tries to put her diagnosis for you in a respectful way. “Sexual frustration. When one, especially a human, goes a long time without being…satisfied, it can result in emotional instability and psychosomatic symptoms.”
Your hands ball into fists as your body tenses, mortified at her words but realizing she was right. You’d gone ages without affection or activity of any kind and it was starting to chip away at you both mentally and physically. “I see. I feel embarrassed for coming here if that’s all it was. I’m sorry for wasting your time.”
You pick your shirt back up, intending to pull it on before she grabs your wrist and looks at you with that same kind and caring look. “Y/N…it’s my job to make sure my patients are at their healthiest and happiest. If you’d like my assistance, I’m willing to extend that offer to you.”
…huh?
You shake your head a bit as you close your eyes for a moment, trying to gather a coherent response. “I’m…not sure I understand.”
She gently removes the shirt from your hand, holding her own gloved hand in yours as she speaks in a reassuring yet slightly suggestive tone. “I know being pent up is not an enjoyable feeling. I can help alleviate that if you’d like my help satisfying you.”
You can feel the warmth from your face spreading down your body, your cunt starting to yearn for the demon in front of you as she suggests pleasuring you directly. “But…I thought you didn’t want to be too close to humans right now. Wouldn’t that…make it worse?”
“I’ll keep my mask and gloves on. It won’t be a problem.”
You stay completely still for a moment, wrapping your mind around the fact that this is real. “If…if you say so. Are you sure?”
She places a hand on your thigh closest to her, sliding it to the inner side and strokes gently with a thumb. A wave of electricity shoots up your spine as you take in a shaky inhale. She giggles with a soft sigh, pleased at your reaction. “Yes. I’m sure. Now let’s remove the rest of your clothes and I can get started.” 
You pull down on your waistband, taking your bottoms and underwear off and placing them next to your shirt. You tremble a bit, nervously chewing on your cheek as your entire naked body is exposed before Tamayo. But if you were to have anyone see you like this, you would want it to be someone like her; a person you trusted wholeheartedly, and if you were honest with yourself…already attracted to. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t think your friend was easy on the eyes. 
“It’s okay, Y/N. You can lay down again. Just relax and let me make you feel good, okay?” Her soft and soothing voice helped to calm you a bit as you once again move to the position you were in before, though this time with your knees bent and thighs parted. She could sense your nervousness as you shake and take deep breaths; she strokes your thigh and offers an affectionate look as her fingers slowly wander over to your clit, using her middle and ring fingers to press down and rub small circles onto the bud. “We’ll start off easy.”
You sigh with a whine as you lay your head back, closing your eyes and placing your hands on your stomach. “Good, that’s it, just relax,” she hums as she continues to work the muscle with her fingertips. You could immediately tell she knew what she was doing- not only because she had the same anatomy as you, but because she had extensive knowledge on how to please the right spots.
“H-harder…”
She complies with your request, pressing the two gloved fingers down harder and rubbing slightly faster. “Yeah, don’t be afraid to tell me what you like. I want to make sure this is a good experience for you.” You whine a bit louder, but try your best to swallow it down and bite it back on your lips before it comes out too loudly. “Hey, now, it’s alright. You don’t have to hold back on the noises you make. Just do what feels right. It’ll also help me to let me know what you enjoy.”
You nod meekly as you try your best to release the tension in your body, humming as you focused on her fingers skillfully working your bundle of nerves. She switches from circles to rubbing back and forth, pressing harder and making more of a kneading motion, and a wanton moan escapes your throat. “Fuck…”
“Oh, you like that?” She continues the same motions with her hand, now using her other one to insert two fingers into your entrance, easily sliding in from your eager pussy being so wet from her attention on your clit. You part your legs a bit more and moan again, reveling in the sensation of being filled by her slender fingers. While continuing the massaging of your clit, the fingers on her other hand curl upward on the inward strokes, pressing down on your g-spot. Your closed eyes roll and your jaw hangs slack, overwhelmed from the simultaneous pleasure. 
“T…Tamayo…your hands…fuck, that feels good.”
She responds with a content hum, looking up at your blissful expression with adoration in her lilac eyes. “I’m glad. Would you like me to go faster?”
You vigorously nod, huffing. “Please, please.” 
The woman giggles in reply as she speeds up the thrusts of her fingers into your cunt and the strokes on your clit, the combined sensations making the pitch and volume of your noises rise. You couldn’t stop the moans escaping your mouth as she continued to work you with her hands- she really knew how to please you and it felt unreal. You hadn’t known a loving, sexual touch in so long you’d forgotten what it felt like, but her skillful ministrations brought the love of the sensation flooding back into your mind and body. “I’m…I’m close…”
She increases the speed and pressure on both hands, the sound of obscene squelching filling the room as her fingers fucked and rubbed you without mercy. “Good, let it out, let it all out. Don’t worry about making a mess, I’ll take care of that.”
Your hazy mind takes in her words and finally you reach that high, your hips lifting off of the bed as your pussy tightens and releases, your hands desperately grasping at the sheets beneath you and your legs straightening and bending repeatedly. Even during your orgasm her motions don’t ease up, making everything feel so incredibly intense and mind-blowingly amazing. 
With your hips meeting the bed once more and your breathing slowing down, her hands ease up eventually before slowing down. You exhale with a chuckle, in complete disbelief that just happened and you came that hard. She helps you sit up as you catch your breath before throwing her old gloves in the trash, putting on some new ones and stroking your back gently. “You did very well, Y/N. How do you feel?”
“I…wow. It…that was nice.”
“I’m glad you think so. I’m sorry that I couldn’t use my bare hands or my mouth to help you further.”
Your face heats up once again. “Y…your mouth?”
She smiles as she nods. “Indeed. If I’d had enough blood intake, I could have done more with you without these necessary barriers.”
You gulp and look away before looking back at her. “I mean…you can have some of my blood if you want.” You crane your neck to the side, heavy eyelids falling on her suggestively. 
This time, she’s the one blushing.
“Do you…do you mean it?”
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i was initially going to add a part where the reader lets her drink their blood but i lost muse towards the end ;-; let me know if yall want a part 2 where that happens!
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magnagaruzenmon · 16 days ago
Text
Merry Axemas
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Oh Dino! Oh Dino! or should I say Great Demon Emperor? you messed up because I Love when you do zombie stories, and you do you ridiculous high energy jokey narration I love you for (platonically like a brother) and Eunbi my my this is quite the christmas gift. Yeah you're making this a series. Go on now shoo. Start cooking. I look forward to the first chapter.
But it was only meant to be a wrap up... Sigh...Damn it… I guess it’s a series now.
A new perspective
Sakura grabbed her arm. “Chowon, we have to go!”
“I’m not leaving him!” she snarled, her voice raw with emotion.
The group hesitated, torn between their loyalty to Chowon and their survival instincts. Finally, Leo spoke, his voice heavy with regret. “We don’t have a choice. He wouldn’t want us to die here.”
The group began to retreat, dragging Chowon with them. She fought them every step of the way, but eventually, they relented leaving her, her eyes never leaving the direction Dinozen had been taken.
An hour later, Chowon sat alone by the charred remains of a tree, her knees pulled to her chest. Her mind raced, torn between worry for Dinozen and guilt for letting the group leave without her. She knew they would need a slayer but she expected Dinozen to come back any moment, and then they would go and tell off their group.
The sound of approaching footsteps made her tense, her hand instinctively going to her knife. A figure emerged from the shadows—a tall man with dark skin and a calm, almost disarming smile.
The person approaching her is me… yeah that's me your new and improved narrator. I approached the young woman who sat frozen, which was surprising to me to see someone so alone, but I guess I couldn't say much either because I was also very much alone. Her eyes were level with me though as she pulled her knife. I raised my hands above my head and replied, "Not a zombie. Just a traveler," the young lady looked at me suspiciously. She looked me over for any signs of infection or malice, but all she found was my goofball smile. But to her credit, she didn't let her guard down,
"Who are you?"
“Daihouzan,” I responded. The young lady eyed me suspiciously before asking what I was doing?
“Um, scavenging. If you can’t tell we are in the middle of the awesomepocalypse pocalypse pocalypse,” I responded while adding the echo for dramatic effect. The young woman scowled at me, and I replied “Woo tough crowd,”
“Do you think this is a game?” She growled angrily
“Uh, kinda,” I replied. “At least that’s how I’m treating it so I don’t get PTSD,” I added. The young lady eyed me confused I shrugged as I sat next to her, "So what seems to be the problem?"
"My friend is gone," she said, sadly, and I listened to her tell her story.
I felt bad because I had seen firsthand how people treated slayers and it wasn't the kindest always. Especially if they went into a rage, but I had been around enough slayers at this point to see them as people.
"Well, how about this we wait for your boyfriend (chowon growled at me saying that) oh okay mate, and if he's not here in the next 8 hours we go looking for him," I suggested. The young lady scowled and then said
"Okay, but you better not hold me down,"
I laughed and said, "Darling I am not just a monster hunter I am the monster hunter in these parts. I have seen more zombies than you have probably slain. I am a legend out here," the young lady finally laughed and said,
"If you are so much of a legend how come I don't know you," I clasped my hands together and said,
"you know what fair," before we began our wait.
At the fourth hour, hunger gnawed at me, and I decided to take a break from our quiet vigil. I headed into the safehouse and rummaged through what little remained. Among the scraps, I found instant ramen and a packet of vanilla tea. Not exactly gourmet, but in times like these, it was practically a feast. I prepared enough for both of us, though the young woman—still nameless to me—hadn’t said much the entire night.
When I returned, she sat by the same charred tree, her gaze fixed on the horizon as if willing something—or someone—to appear. I handed her the food, and though she accepted it, her movements were slow, her expression distant. She ate dourly, her eyes never meeting mine.
I settled beside her, eating in silence for a while. But something about her tugged at the edges of my memory, like a song you can’t quite place.
“Hey,” I started hesitantly, breaking the stillness. “What did you do before the outbreak?”
She paused mid-bite, her brow furrowing as though the question had stirred something painful. “I was a singer,” she said simply. “In a K-pop group.”
The pieces fell into place like a lightning strike. “Wait… are you Han Chowon? From Lightsum?” I blurted, the name tumbling out before I could stop myself.
Her head turned sharply toward me, and for a moment, her guarded demeanor cracked. Then, reluctantly, she nodded.
“No way,” I breathed, the realization hitting me like a truck. “Holy crap. I saw you guys when you did your show in LA! You were amazing. Seriously, I still remember how electric that performance was. And wow, you’re… you’re even prettier up close, even with this whole lioness vibe you’ve got going on.”
Her cheeks flushed slightly at the compliment, though her expression remained cautious. Still, there was a flicker of something—maybe amusement, maybe warmth.
Beside her, I could almost feel an invisible presence, a low purr of approval from that "lioness" persona she seemed to carry. Even though I couldn’t explain it, I knew she had accepted my presence, at least for now.
She shifted uncomfortably, her voice quieter as she asked, “So… what’s your pre-outbreak story?”
I leaned back against the tree, letting out a small chuckle. “Nothing nearly as glamorous as yours,” I said. “I worked in records and did stunt work for movies. You know, falling off buildings, crashing cars, setting myself on fire. The usual.”
Chowon raised an eyebrow, her skepticism briefly overtaking her guardedness. “Stuntman, huh?”
“Yeah,” I said, a little sheepish. “I ran with my mentor, Jacob, who’s actually a Slayer now. In the early days of the outbreak, he took me under his wing and taught me everything I needed to survive. He’s the reason I’m still alive, really.”
There was a faint spark of interest in her eyes now, though it was still wrapped in layers of suspicion and exhaustion. “Where’s Jacob now?” she asked.
“Off doing Slayer things, I guess,” I said with a shrug. “Haven’t seen him in a while. But you know, he always said surviving wasn’t just about staying alive—it was about finding something worth protecting. Sounds cheesy, I know, but it stuck with me.”
Chowon’s gaze drifted again toward the horizon, her hands tightening slightly around the cup of vanilla tea. “Something worth protecting…” she murmured, her voice barely above a whisper.
For a moment, the silence between us felt less like a void and more like a shared understanding. Two people, broken in different ways, trying to find meaning in a world that had lost its own.
“Well,” I said, breaking the spell gently, “if your lioness persona approves, maybe we’ll survive this crazy apocalypse together.”
She didn’t laugh, but the corner of her mouth twitched—just enough to count as a win.
At the sixth hour, I knew it was time to stop waiting and start acting. Dinozen wouldn’t just rescue himself, and the longer we stayed idle, the more likely something terrible had already happened. I went to work, methodically preparing for the search. Weapons, check. Supplies—water, rations, the usual—check. I double-checked the straps on my shield, making sure everything was secure.
As I was finishing up, a low, guttural noise broke through the stillness. My head snapped up, ears straining to pinpoint the source. It was coming from the yard. Grunting, shuffling, and a growl that sent a chill down my spine.
I grabbed my shield and sword, Wicked Edge, and bolted outside. What I saw froze me in place for a split second. Chowon was locked in a brutal struggle with a bruiser zombie—a hulking, grotesque beast easily twice her size, its mottled skin stretched tight over grotesque muscles. It swung its massive arm at her, and she barely dodged, her knife looking pitifully inadequate against its bulk.
Without hesitation, I charged in, shield first. The impact of my rush slammed into the bruiser with a bone-crunching thud, sending it staggering back. Its neck twisted toward me at an impossible angle, its soulless eyes locking onto mine as it let out a guttural roar.
The bruiser charged, its enormous frame bearing down like a runaway train. I raised my shield just in time, absorbing the impact with a deafening clang that reverberated up my arm.
Before it could recover, I moved with practiced precision. With a single, powerful swing, I sliced through the bruiser’s midsection, cutting it clean in half. Blackened, viscous ichor spilled onto the ground as the top half of its body collapsed in a grotesque heap.
Breathing heavily, I turned to Chowon, who stood frozen, her knife still clutched in her hand. Her eyes were wide, not in fear but in surprise, maybe even awe.
“Sword Saint of Invincibility,” I said, pointing a thumb at myself with a grin. Chowon’s expression shifted, her guarded demeanor melting just slightly as a flicker of something else—approval, maybe—crossed her face. I could almost feel her inner lioness purring at the display of force.
Her gaze drifted to Wicked Edge, taking in its jagged, unnatural design. “What is that?” she asked, her voice tinged with curiosity.
“Oh, this?” I said, lifting the weapon for her to see. “It’s something I put together. Made it out of zombie parts and bone. I call it Wicked Edge.”
Chowon’s eyes lingered on the blade, her interest unmistakable. “You made it yourself?”
“Yup,” I said, sheathing the weapon with a flourish. “Every Slayer needs a signature weapon, right? Figured I’d put all those horror movie props and stuntman skills to good use.”
Her lips quirked upward, just a little. “Not bad.”
“Not bad?” I feigned offense, placing a hand over my heart. “I just saved your life with that ‘not bad’ weapon!”
She let out a soft, amused huff, though her lioness aura still clung to her like a second skin. “Thanks,” she said, her tone quieter but sincere.
“No problem,” I replied, giving her a grin. “Now, you ready to help me find Dinozen? We’ve got work to do.”
She nodded, determination hardening her features. And for the first time, I felt like we weren’t just two strangers thrown together by circumstance. We were a team. Or at least, we were getting there. Chowon nodded as she got up and she followed me. the two of us travel in the direction that she saw Dinozen taken in.
The road stretched long and empty ahead of us, the only sound was the crunch of gravel beneath our boots. Chowon was walking slightly behind me, her gaze lingering on the weapons strapped across my back and hanging from my belt. I could feel her eyes moving between them—curiosity and perhaps judgment in her steady gaze.
I smirked to myself. “You can just ask, you know.”
Chowon stiffened slightly, caught in the act. “Ask what?”
“About my weapons. I saw you eying them,” I said, slowing my pace to walk beside her.
She glanced at me, her expression guarded. “They’re… unusual. You make all these yourself?”
“Every single one,” I replied, pride evident in my voice. I reached over my shoulder and unslung the massive axe strapped to my back. The blade gleamed with an icy sheen, faint frost forming along its edge. “This here is Leviathan. Inspired by God of War, if you’ve played it.”
Her eyes narrowed, clearly unimpressed by the game reference, but her inner lioness stirred as she studied the weapon itself.
“It’s made from the bones and claws of a glacial bruiser,” I continued, twirling it effortlessly before planting it into the dirt. “The frost effect comes from glands I harvested from its throat. Hits like a truck and freezes anything it cuts.”
Chowon stepped closer, running a hand lightly along the blade’s edge. Her lips twitched in what might’ve been approval. “You made this from scratch?”
“Yup. Takes a while, but hey, it’s worth it when it can save your life.”
I put Leviathan back and pulled two short swords from my waist, their handles connected by chains that clinked softly as I moved. “These are the Blades of Chaos. Another shoutout to God of War—you’re sensing a theme here, right?”
The chains rattled as I spun the blades in a smooth, almost hypnotic motion, the tips glowing faintly with a fiery red hue.
“They’re made from a pair of burning runners I took down. I forged their ribcages into the blades and kept their internal heat sacs for the fire effects. They’re not as strong as some of my other weapons, but they’re fast, and the chains make them versatile. Good for keeping zombies at bay.”
Chowon tilted her head, watching me demonstrate a few moves with them. Her inner lioness practically purred in approval. “Resourceful,” she admitted.
I grinned, holstering the blades. “That’s one way to put it. Now, this beauty…” I unslung Wicked Edge, my personal favorite. A bone sword and shield combo, both jagged and intimidating. “This one’s my bread and butter. The sword is made from the femur of a bony behemoth, and the shield is its skull. Got ambushed by one a while back—it didn’t walk away.”
Chowon’s eyes flicked to the shield, noting the jagged edges of the skull and the faint traces of dried blood etched into the bone. “Looks… brutal.”
“It is,” I replied with a wink. “But also durable. The shield’s saved my life more times than I can count, and the sword’s sharp enough to slice through even armored zombies. Plus, there’s something poetic about using the undead’s own body against them.”
Chowon gave a small nod, clearly impressed despite herself. Her lioness let out a low growl of approval in the back of her mind, and I could sense her warming up to me—if only slightly.
“And last but not least…” I reached for the spear strapped to my back. “ Gae Bolg. Another mythology-based weapon. But this one’s got a modern twist.”
I held the spear out for her to see. Its sleek, polished shaft was lined with intricate carvings, and the tip gleamed with a metallic sheen. “Made from the spine of a bone mapper and the claws of a butcher. The real kicker? It can use rifle ammo and project shrapnel at lethal velocity .”
“Like a rifle?” she repeated, her eyebrows raising in surprise.
I tapped a small trigger mechanism hidden near the grip. “Yeah, this baby can fire off rifle rounds. The zombie bone acts as a natural accelerant, and I’ve got the mechanism rigged to launch projectiles with minimal recoil. Perfect for both long-distance video calls and the more intimate dinner dates I can find myself in.”
Chowon’s hand brushed the shaft, her lioness practically purring at the craftsmanship. “You made all these from nothing but zombie parts?”
“Zombie parts, scavenged scrap, and a little ingenuity,” I replied. “When the world’s gone to hell, you work with what you’ve got.”
Her gaze lingered on the spear before shifting to me. “Impressive. I can see why you’ve survived this long.”
“High praise coming from you,” I teased, slinging Gae bolg back onto my back.
She smirked slightly, the edges of her guarded expression softening. “Don’t let it go to your head, Sword Saint.”
“Oh, it’s already there, I saved a slayer there’s no greater achievement,” I said with a grin, resuming our walk.
As we continued down the road, I noticed her glancing at me more often. Her lioness seemed to hum with approval, as though silently acknowledging me as someone worth her attention. It made traveling with her much easier as she opened up a bit more to me.
We found the safe house just as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting the world into shadows. It was a squat, half-collapsed building, the windows boarded up and a flickering lantern glowing faintly inside. Chowon had been quiet for the past half-hour, her lioness seemingly tense, as if sensing something.
I tightened my grip on Gae Bolg as we approached. “Huh looks promising right?”
Chowon nodded, her expression unreadable. She pushed the door open without waiting for me, her usual cautious demeanor replaced by something raw and urgent. I followed close behind, the weight of the moment settling over us both.
Inside, the air was stale and musty, the faint scent of old wood and dried blood lingering. A figure sat slumped at the far end of the room, near the glow of the lantern. He was hunched over, staring at his hands as if they held some great mystery.
Chowon’s breath hitched as she stepped forward. “Dino…”
He looked up, his face partially obscured by shadow. For a moment, I thought he recognized her. But then, his brow furrowed in confusion.
“Do I… know you?” he asked, his voice uncertain, like someone trying to piece together a puzzle with missing pieces.
“Oh goody,” I said sarcastically as my mind made the logic jump.
Chowon froze, her lioness recoiling in shock. “What do you mean? It’s me, Chowon. You—” She stopped herself, taking a shaky breath before continuing. “It’s me,” she repeated, softer this time.
Dinozen shook his head, wincing as he rubbed his temples. “I… I don’t remember. I don’t remember anything before waking up here.”
Chowon turned to me, desperation flickering in her eyes. “What’s wrong with him?”
“Looks like short-term amnesia,” I said, kneeling beside him to get a closer look. His pupils were dilated, and he flinched when I touched his shoulder. “Probably trauma from whatever that fire-breathing bruiser did to him. Could’ve been physical or just the stress. Either way, memory loss isn’t uncommon in situations like this.”
Chowon dropped to her knees in front of Dinozen, her hands hovering as if she wanted to grab him but was afraid he might pull away. “Dino, it’s me. I’m your partner your equal. We’ve been through everything together. You have to remember.”
He stared at her, his face conflicted. “I… I’m sorry. I want to, but… I can’t. It’s like there’s this fog in my head, and I can’t see through it.” I could see something underneath the surface of his mind stirring but it was being blocked. Probably a concussion.
Her lioness growled softly, a sound Dinozen and I could sense, and I watched as Chowon swallowed hard, forcing herself to stay calm. “It’s okay,” she whispered, her voice trembling. “It’s okay. We’ll figure this out. I’ll help you remember.”
Dinozen’s gaze softened slightly at her tone, but there was still no spark of recognition.
I stepped back, giving them space. “He might need time,” I said, leaning against the wall. “And rest. This safe house seems secure enough for the night.”
Chowon nodded, though her focus never left Dinozen. “We’re not leaving him.”
“… do I look like an idiot?” I said dumbfounded. Chowon didn’t appreciate my tone and I quantified with one muck lighter, “Wasn’t planning on it,” I replied.
As the minutes passed, I set up camp near the entrance, keeping an eye on the room. Chowon stayed close to Dinozen, speaking to him in hushed tones, trying to jog his memory with stories and little details about their time together.
I couldn’t hear all of it, but I caught bits and pieces: how they met, the fights they survived, the way he always stood between her and danger. Dinozen listened intently, though the frustration in his eyes grew with each story he couldn’t recall.
After a while, he looked at her and said, “I’m sorry. I wish I could remember. You seem… important.”
Chowon’s shoulders slumped, and for a moment, she looked utterly defeated. But then her lioness stirred again, resolute. She reached out, finally taking his hand in hers.
“You’ll remember,” she said firmly. “And until you do, I’ll remind you every single day if I have to.”
Her determination was something to behold. Even at this moment, with the man she clearly cared about staring at her like a stranger, she refused to give up.
I leaned back, arms crossed, and muttered to myself, “Damn, you’re one hell of a woman, Chowon.”
Her lioness let out a low growl of agreement, and I couldn’t help but grin. We got ready for the night and all took corners to sleep. Chowon stayed with Dinozen. As we were getting ready to sleep the whole building fell quiet.
The room was silent except for the occasional creak of the safehouse settling. Dinozen sat across from Chowon, his brows furrowed as he tried to process the bits of his past she’d shared. Chowon stayed close, her hand still resting over his, refusing to let the distance between them widen further.
Then, a crackle broke the quiet.
I turned sharply toward the source of the noise—my comm radio. I grabbed it from my pack, adjusting the dial until a voice came through, muffled but audible.
“…Any survivors in Zone Twelve, this is CDC. We’ve secured a secondary evacuation route. Repeat: there is a secondary evacuation route heading southbound from Sector Echo-Five. Extraction is available at dawn. Ensure any Slayers are accounted for to assist with transport security.”
Chowon’s head snapped toward me, her eyes wide. “Evacuation route?”
Dinozen perked up too, though he still looked a little dazed. “They’re still running evacuations?”
“Looks like it,” I said, keeping my tone neutral but hopeful. “Echo-Five is only a day’s travel from here if we’re fast. We could make it before dawn.”
Chowon hesitated, glancing back at Dinozen. “You think we should go?”
I gave her a long look, weighing my words carefully. “This isn’t just about us. It’s about helping the people out there who still need it. The CDC is trusting Slayers to protect the convoy.” I gestured to Dinozen. “He’s a Slayer, even if his memories are fuzzy. And you’re no slouch yourself.”
Dinozen straightened slightly as if reminded of a part of himself he hadn’t lost. “If we can help people… we should go.”
Chowon frowned, her lioness growling softly in disagreement. “But you’re not at full strength. What if something happens?”
I stepped in, my tone light but firm. “That’s what I’m here for. Between the three of us, we’ve got a better chance than most. And hey, worst-case scenario, I’ll just make another weapon out of whatever tries to kill us.”
Chowon shot me a glare, but the tension in her shoulders eased a little.
“Fine,” she said, relenting. She turned back to Dinozen, her expression softening. “But if you start feeling worse, you tell me. No playing hero.”
Dinozen nodded, a small smile tugging at his lips. “I’ll try to remember that.”
I clapped my hands together, breaking the moment. “Alright, then! We’ve got a plan. Get some rest now, because once we leave, it’s full speed ahead. Ready break” I said as we finished our makeshift huddle.
The three of us began packing up in silence, each lost in our own thoughts. For Dinozen, it was likely the struggle to piece together his fragmented memories. For Chowon, it was the battle between her protective instincts and her trust in him. And for me?
Well, I couldn’t help but feel like the universe had put me in the right place at the right time. These two were something special, and if anyone could make it through this mess, it was them.
I glanced at Wicked Edge, already secured on my back, and muttered under my breath, “Looks like I’m in for another adventure.”
As we packed up, Chowon broke the silence. “There’s something you should know,” she said, her voice steady but tinged with an edge of defiance.
Dinozen and I both turned to her, curious. She tightened the straps on her pack and squared her shoulders, her lioness flickering in her gaze.
“I’m a Slayer too,” she said simply.
Dinozen blinked, his brow furrowing in confusion. “You… you’re a Slayer?”
I raised an eyebrow, more intrigued than shocked. “Huh. Explains the whole lioness aura thing. But why didn’t you say anything before?”
She shot me a look. “It’s not exactly the kind of thing you just tell people. Slayers don’t have the best reputation, in case you hadn’t noticed.”
Dinozen rubbed the back of his neck, looking down. “I guess that makes sense. People… don’t trust us.”
Chowon softened at his tone, stepping closer. “That’s exactly why I didn’t say anything. But I’m done hiding. You’re not the only one who’s had to deal with the stigma. I’ve been fighting just as hard to prove I’m more than the monster people see.”
I leaned against the wall, arms crossed, a small grin tugging at my lips. “Well, well, the lioness reveals her claws. Makes sense, though—you’ve got the same fire in your eyes as he does.”
Chowon smirked faintly, though her gaze was still on Dinozen. “I became a Slayer later, after the outbreak. It wasn’t something I chose, but it happened. And it doesn’t make me any less human.”
Dinozen looked up at her, a flicker of admiration in his expression. “You’re… incredible,” he said quietly.
She rolled her eyes but smiled, the tension in her posture easing. “Save the flattery. We’ve got a mission to focus on.”
I pushed off the wall, clapping my hands once. “Alright, now that we’ve got that out in the open, let’s move. Two Slayers and one Monster Hunter? I’d say we’ve got this covered.”
Chowon gave a small laugh and shook her head. “Let’s hope you’re right.”
With that, we finished packing and prepared to head out, the weight of the world still heavy on our shoulders but lightened slightly by the truth now shared among us. For the first time, it felt like we were stepping forward as equals, ready to face whatever came next—together. After a good night’s rest full of pleasant dreams we got up early and headed off. While the slayers were clearly outpacing me I did keep up to the best of my ability. It was just hard competition when you’re competing against superhumans.
As we moved closer to the evacuation point, I noticed Dinozen’s stride slow. His eyes, glowing faintly with that predatory intensity I’d come to recognize, darted toward me, lingering on my leg and foot. Chowon must’ve picked up on it too because she stopped walking, her gaze sharp and focused as she studied me.
“You’re limping,” Dinozen said, his voice quieter now but laced with something deeper.
I shrugged, trying to play it off. “It’s nothing. Just another day in paradise.”
Chowon tilted her head, her lioness instincts practically visible in her gaze as she noticed the scars running across my arms and neck. The jagged bite marks, the claw slashes, even the more recent wounds I hadn’t had the chance to properly clean up.
“You’ve been bitten,” she said, her tone low and edged with suspicion.
Dinozen’s eyes narrowed as his predator side came closer to the surface, studying me with that same primal scrutiny. “And clawed,” he added, his voice carrying an undertone of disbelief. “Those aren’t old scars either.”
“And stabbed, and bled on, and puked on…the list goes on and on really,” I said, Chowon and Dinozen didn’t appreciate the humor and brought their weapons to me.
I sighed, rolling my shoulders as if to shake off the weight of their stares. “Alright, alright. Look, I know how it looks, but trust me—it’s not what you think.”
Dinozen stepped closer, his golden eyes narrowing further. His predator was fully awake now, assessing me like I was an enigma it couldn’t quite solve. “You’re not a Slayer, then what are you?”
I chuckled. “Nope. Not a Slayer. Not superhuman. Just your average, everyday guy.”
Chowon’s lioness flickered in her gaze as she folded her arms. “Explain. Now.”
I stopped walking and faced them both, raising my hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. Truth is, I can’t turn into a zombie.”
Chowon’s lioness tensed, clearly unsettled. “What do you mean, you can’t turn?”
“It’s genetic,” I explained, letting the words come slowly so they’d sink in. “I was born without the gene that makes a person able to turn. Zombies can bite me, claw me, hell, even try to gnaw my arm off, but I won’t turn. Doesn’t matter how bad it gets…well as long as they don’t eat me. I haven’t found anyone who can come back from that,”
Dinozen’s predator flared again, his eyes locking onto me with newfound interest. I could feel it—the instinctual, primal part of him sizing me up, testing whether I was worth respecting or dismissing.
“You’re immune,” he said, his voice quieter now, almost reverent. “That’s… rare.”
“Yup,” I replied, popping the ‘p’ for effect. “Not a Slayer, just a guy who lucked out in the genetic lottery. Lucky me, huh? Or maybe it’s bad luck as I’d probably be dead now and not have to worry about” I gestured to the world around us, “all of this,”
Chowon’s lioness narrowed its gaze, her body tense as she processed this. “If you’re immune, why are you still out here? You could’ve stayed somewhere safe.”
I let out a hollow laugh, the kind that barely hid the exhaustion beneath it. “Safe? Well to be honest I thought more of the world was gonna fall so I never saw a reason to leave the Dead States of America. Besides, if I can’t turn, that means I’m better off out here helping people who can’t say the same. Someone’s gotta do it. Not every group can have slayers you know,”
Dinozen’s predator seemed to settle then, its gaze shifting from suspicion to something closer to approval. It was subtle—the way his posture relaxed, the faint nod he gave—but I caught it.
“You put yourself in danger for other people,” Dinozen said, his voice steady but carrying that predatory respect.
“Yeah, well,” I replied, scratching the back of my neck. “Someone’s gotta be the monster hunter. Might as well be me.”
Chowon’s lioness seemed to relax too, though it wasn’t entirely at ease. She nodded slowly, her gaze softening as she spoke. “You’re braver than I thought.”
I grinned, trying to lighten the mood. “Don’t get used to it. I’m still gonna make fun of you every chance I get.”
Dinozen’s predator lingered for a moment longer, then seemed to settle back into him. When he spoke again, it was with a faint smile. “You’re not bad, Daihouzan. Not bad at all.”
We started walking again, the tension between us replaced by a quiet understanding. Dinozen’s predator had found something it could respect, and Chowon’s lioness seemed to begrudgingly agree. For the first time, I felt like we were on even footing—a team, not just people thrown together by circumstance.
As the evacuation point came into view, I glanced at the two Slayers beside me. An odd trio, sure, but I wouldn’t trade them for anything. Well, maybe for a warm bed and a hot meal, but that’s beside the point.
We arrived at the rendezvous point earlier than expected, which was just fine by me. Keeping up with Slayers was exhausting. They had boundless energy, endless chatter, and a knack for making everything a spectacle. Meanwhile, I preferred my energy reserved for battles, not theatrics. As we waited in the eerie quiet, the sound of a struggle floated in from the east.
I sighed heavily. “Here we go again.”
Chowon and Dinozen were already moving toward the noise, their senses honed to detect danger like predators ready to strike.
“Wait!” I called, rising reluctantly to my feet. They stopped, looking back at me impatiently.
“They’re coming this way. Don’t waste your energy running over there. You’ll just tire yourselves out.”
Dinozen grunted in acknowledgment, while Chowon hesitated before nodding. They both stayed put, their bodies tense and ready for the inevitable. The sound grew louder—a combination of growls, shouting, and the distinct rumble of something large and enraged.
When the first figure burst through the treeline, it was exactly what I expected: a grotesque mutator zombie, its body twisted and bulging with muscle, its movements erratic yet disturbingly fast. Behind it, a group of survivors—no, Slayers—struggled to keep it at bay.
The mutator’s beady eyes locked onto me, and it let out a deep, guttural growl, its claws tearing into the earth as it stomped forward.
I groaned, rolling my neck as I stepped forward to meet it. “You dare challenge the Immortal Righteous Sword Saint of Invincibility, Daihouzan?” I bellowed dramatically, slamming my fist to my chest.
Everyone—Slayers included—stared at me like I’d grown a second head. Dinozen raised an eyebrow, while Chowon pinched the bridge of her nose.
“What?” I said, glancing back at them. “Y’all can yap too. Let me have fun. This is one of my few joys in life.”
The mutator roared again, louder this time, mocking my theatrics. I smirked and roared back, throwing in a little snarl for good measure. The beast charged, and I stepped forward, pulling the Blades of Chaos from my waist. The fiery chains glinted in the fading sunlight as I spun them, the flames licking hungrily at the air.
The fight was brief but brutal. The mutator lunged, claws swiping wildly, but it was no match for the whirlwind of flames and steel. The chains wrapped around its limbs, cutting deep, while the fire consumed its rotting flesh. With a final swing, the beast collapsed in a smoldering heap.
“Another one bites the dust,” I muttered, sheathing the blades as I bent down to scavenge. Among the remains, I found a few components for the weapon I was working on—a katana inspired by Vergil’s Yamato from Devil May Cry. I just needed an Odachi blade to complete it.
As I straightened up, the rumble of the CDC Super Train reached my ears. The massive, fortified convoy pulled into view, its sleek, armored cars a stark contrast to the chaos of the world around us. The Slayers and their group quickly boarded, and I followed, collapsing onto the floor the moment we were safely inside.
Before anyone could react, I raised a hand weakly and said, “Not turning. Just tired.”
The group relaxed, though some shot me wary glances. As the train began to move, everyone settled into the car, finding their own spaces. I drifted off briefly, but the sound of raised voices pulled me back to consciousness.
“I can’t believe you forced us to leave you!” Jihyo’s voice rang out, sharp and filled with anger.
“You left Dinozen!” Chowon fired back, her tone equally heated.
“Yeah, and we all paid the price!” A young woman with auburn hair—Nagyoung, if I remember correctly—growled next to Jihyo. “We were overrun at the next safe house with no Slayer to help us out.”
“We all got bit! Lucky for us, we were already Slayers!” Nagyoung added, her frustration spilling over.
“Hey,” I cut in, sitting up and rubbing my eyes. “Can y’all save the aggro for zombies? I was trying to sleep.”
One of the men—Donny, I assumed—turned to me with a glare. “You stay out of this!” he snapped.
I scratched my head lazily and gave him a bored look. “I don’t think you’ve got the combat acumen to back that threat, bruv, but hey, take your shot.”
The tension in the car grew thicker as another man—Leo—stepped forward, his expressionless aggressive but no less serious. “And who are you, exactly?”
I sighed, stretching dramatically as I stood. “Sword Saint of Invincibility. Combat Celebrant of Victory. Lord of Joy and Apex Hunter Extraordinaire—Daihouzan.” I gestured grandly. “And I’m not intimidated by your little show. I’ve fought way too many things to be scared of recently evolved Slayers.”
The room fell silent, save for Chowon and Dinozen, whose inner predators stirred. Their gazes showed a mix of respect and amusement. The others, however, looked at me like I was insane.
“Listen,” I continued, brushing off their reactions. “If no one has anything nice to say, let’s just keep it to ourselves. All this is gonna do is lead to conflict, and I don’t want to be the one mopping up body parts.”
Reluctantly, the group settled, muttering under their breaths as they returned to their seats. I found an open spot but realized it wasn’t empty. A woman sat there, dressed in a cowgirl outfit that reminded me a little of Tifa from Final Fantasy VII.
She looked up and smiled, extending her hand. “Hi, I’m Eunbi.”
I blinked, caught off guard. “Wow, you’re, like, really pretty,” I blurted before I could stop myself.
She chuckled. “Thank you. Also, good job stopping them from fighting.”
I nodded, still trying to process her presence. “Thanks.”
“You’re Daihouzan, right?” she asked, tilting her head.
I frowned. “How’d you know?”
Her grin widened. “I heard your whole introduction over there. You’re very dramatic.”
I chuckled, relaxing. “Hey, I earned the nickname. I’m gonna flaunt it.”
“Fair point,” she said with a laugh, her eyes sparkling with amusement. For the first time in what felt like ages, I felt something other than exhaustion—a strange, flickering sense of connection.
As the train rumbled forward, the tension in the car began to dissipate. Chowon sat quietly, but her unease was palpable. I could tell she wasn’t used to seeing her friends so confrontational—or so changed. Dinozen, ever the quiet observer, sat beside her, a steady presence as her fingers tapped nervously on her knees.
The air in the car felt thick, almost electric. Slayers always had this sort of energy, and as someone who’d been around them for far too long, I could tell something was off. Not wrong exactly, but… different.
I was just starting to nod off again when a sharp gasp snapped me awake.
Chowon was on her feet, staring at Nagyoung, who was hunched over and clutching her chest. Her auburn hair clung to her forehead as beads of sweat formed along her temples. Jihyo was next to her, holding her shoulders.
“What’s happening to her?” Chowon asked, panic creeping into her voice.
“I don’t know!” Jihyo exclaimed. “She was fine a second ago!”
Nagyoung groaned, her body trembling as her muscles seemed to ripple beneath her skin. Her fingers dug into the armrest of her seat, leaving dents in the metal.
“She’s evolving,” I said calmly, leaning back against the wall.
“What?” Chowon turned to me, wide-eyed.
“Relax. It’s normal for newly bitten Slayers,” I explained, waving a hand dismissively. “Their bodies are still figuring out what kind of apex predator they’re going to become. It’s not pretty, but it’s part of the deal.”
Before Chowon could respond, another groan echoed through the car. This time, it was Donny, Nagyoung’s boyfriend. His head was tilted back, his eyes glowing faintly as veins pulsed along his neck. His breathing was shallow and rapid, and his nails had started to darken into sharp, claw-like tips.
“Okay, this is getting weird,” Dinozen muttered, his gaze flicking between the two.
The train car felt like it was vibrating on a different frequency now. Leo let out a grunt, doubling over as his arms flexed involuntarily. Beside him, Sakura steadied him, her expression calm despite the fact that her own transformation was starting—her pupils narrowing into slits and her movements becoming unnaturally graceful.
Jihyo winced as her girlfriend, Venus, clutched her arm, her skin shimmering faintly as if the light was refracting off it. Even Mikey and Chaehyun weren’t spared—Mikey’s hair seemed to darken unnaturally, and Chaehyun’s normally delicate features hardened, her nails digging into the fabric of her seat.
“Everyone… everyone’s changing,” Chowon whispered, her voice trembling.
I stood, dusting off my coat and walking to the center of the car. “Alright, listen up!” I said, clapping my hands loudly. “This is just evolution doing its thing. Y’all are Slayers now—fully fledged apex predators. It’s not a big deal. You’ll feel stronger, faster, and more dangerous. Maybe you’ll grow claws, fangs, or wings. Who knows? Point is, you’ll get through it.”
“You’re acting like this is normal!” Chowon snapped, glaring at me.
I shrugged. “Because it is normal—for Slayers. You’re just not used to it.”
“But… all of them?” she said, her voice breaking. “Jihyo, Nagyoung, Mikey… even Sakura?”
“They got bit,” I said plainly. “The Slayer gene kicked in, and now they’re apex predators. Simple as that. You’re looking at the new food chain, Chowon, and your friends are officially at the top.”
Chowon’s gaze darted between her friends, who were now writhing, grunting, or grimacing through their transformations. It wasn’t just physical—there was something primal in their eyes, something animalistic and raw.
“I didn’t sign up for this,” she muttered, sinking back into her seat.
Dinozen, who had been quiet all this time, placed a hand on her shoulder. “Neither did we,” he said softly. “But it’s who we are now. And so are they.”
Chowon looked up at him, her expression conflicted. Before she could respond, Nagyoung let out a sharp cry, and suddenly the air shifted. Her body went still, her breathing slowed, and when she looked up, her glowing eyes were sharp and focused. She flexed her hands, the claws retracting and extending as if testing them out.
“Whoa,” Nagyoung muttered, examining herself. “This… feels insane.”
The others began to stabilize as well, their transformations complete. Donny stretched, his muscles taut beneath his shirt, while Leo cracked his neck, looking oddly serene despite the faint glow in his irises. Venus’s skin shimmered faintly before fading, and Sakura moved with a fluidity that was almost unnerving.
“I feel… powerful,” Jihyo murmured, her voice laced with awe as she flexed her fingers.
“Well, congrats,” I said, crossing my arms. “You’re officially Slayers. Welcome to the club.”
Chowon’s hands trembled as she looked at them. These were her friends—her family—but now they were something else entirely. For a moment, she looked like she might cry, but then she took a deep breath and stood.
“Alright,” she said, her voice firm. “If this is who you are now, we’ll figure it out. Together.”
Dinozen nodded approvingly, and the others looked at her with newfound respect. Even in the chaos of their transformation, Chowon’s determination cut through like a beacon.
As the train continued on its journey, the car settled into an uneasy quiet. But the air still buzzed with the latent energy of predators in their prime. This was a new beginning—for them and for Chowon. And something told me that things were only going to get more complicated from here.
As the train finally settled into a steady rhythm, the tension in the car eased. Chowon’s friends were still adjusting to their new reality as Slayers, but for now, the transformations seemed to have stabilized. I, on the other hand, was more interested in finding my way back to some peace and quiet.
Sliding back into my seat, I was met with Eunbi’s warm smile. She looked unfazed by the chaos that had just unfolded—a Slayer herself, her calmness in the face of danger was almost unnerving.
“Back so soon?” she asked, her tone light and teasing.
I shrugged, leaning back against the wall. “Figured I’d come back to the only sane person on this train.”
She chuckled at that, her hand resting lazily on the armrest. “How do you know so much about zombies and Slayers?” she asked, her head tilting curiously. “You didn’t even blink back there.”
I sighed, folding my arms over my chest. “Let’s just say I’ve been in the Dead States of America a long time. Seen a lot, fought even more.”
Her brow lifted in interest, her smile widening. “Like what?”
“Oh, you know, the usual,” I said with a wry grin. “Regular zombies, Apex mutators, Raider packs. Once fought a hive of those weird spitter things that can blind you with their goo. Nasty business. But Slayers?” I nodded toward the rest of the train car. “Slayers are a whole different animal. You learn quick when you’ve got to survive alongside them.”
Eunbi studied me for a moment, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “And yet you’re still here, perfectly fine. Either you’re the luckiest man alive or you’re tougher than you look.”
I smirked. “Maybe both.”
“Maybe,” she echoed, leaning her chin on her hand. “So, what’s the weirdest thing you’ve fought?”
I considered that for a moment, my gaze drifting to the ceiling. “There was this one mutator… it had four arms, each one bigger than my torso. Looked like something out of a nightmare. Took me three days to track it and kill it, and even then, I was down to my last bullet and one good arm by the end of it.”
Eunbi let out a low whistle. “Three days? Sounds like it almost got the better of you.”
“Almost,” I admitted, a small smile tugging at my lips. “But it didn’t. That’s the thing about this place—you either adapt, or you die. Me? I adapt.”
She nodded thoughtfully, her smile never wavering. “I can see that. You’ve got this… unshakable thing about you. Like no matter what happens, you’ll find a way through.”
I raised a brow at her. “Is that your Slayer sense talking?”
“Maybe,” she said, grinning. “Or maybe I’m just good at reading people.”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “Well, whatever it is, you’re not wrong. I’ve been through too much to quit now.”
Eunbi leaned back in her seat, her gaze steady on me. “I think I like having you around, Daihouzan. You’re interesting.”
“Interesting, huh?” I said, smirking. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
“It is,” she assured me, her grin softening into a genuine smile. “You’re not like most people I’ve met. You’ve got stories. I can tell.”
I didn’t respond right away, letting her words hang in the air. It wasn’t often that someone looked at me and saw past the bravado and the theatrics. But Eunbi… she seemed to get it.
“Stick around,” she said after a moment, her tone light again. “I want to hear more of them.”
I leaned back, crossing my arms. “We’ll see if you can keep up.”
Eunbi laughed, the sound soft and melodic, cutting through the lingering tension in the car. For the first time in what felt like forever, I allowed myself to relax. Maybe, just maybe, this train ride wasn’t going to be so bad after all.
That feeling was quickly squashed as we arrived at the refueling station. The refueling station had an eerie stillness about it, despite the shuffling of the undead. Willamette, Colorado—of all places—was a name I hadn’t heard in years, but the sight before me quickly reminded me why I avoided it like the plague.
“An absolute piss show,” Jacob’s words echoed in my head as I took in the scene.
A massive horde of zombies stretched as far as the eye could see, and at the center of it all stood the Rage Cage—a sinister contraption of steel and wires, pulsating with an unsettling red glow. It was built to amplify the infection, driving any Slayer caught in its radius into a feral, uncontrollable fury.
As the train came to a stop, I groaned, already knowing what was about to go down. Chowon, Eunbi, and the others looked at me with confusion until I broke the silence.
“Alright, listen up,” I said, taking Leviathan, my trusty axe, off my back. “I’m going to need all of you to stay in the train car while I handle this.”
“Wait, what?” Chowon asked, her brows furrowing.
Eunbi crossed her arms. “Why are we staying behind?”
I pointed at the Rage Cage with my axe, the glowing monstrosity casting an ominous light over the scene. “That,” I said. “That’s a Rage Cage. It messes with Slayers and amps up your infection until you’re just as much of a danger as the zombies. And I, for one, prefer not to get mauled by any of you. So, you stay here, looking pretty, while I handle the horde.”
I could see the protests forming in Jihyo’s and Venus’s eyes, but before they could speak, Eunbi stepped forward.
“Are you sure about this?” she asked, her voice softer, less confrontational than the others.
I sighed, gripping Leviathan tighter. “No, not really. But I don’t have much of a choice.”
Without waiting for a response, I opened the door and stepped into the fray.
The first few walkers were easy enough—slow, stumbling dead, barely more than target practice. Leviathan sang as it cleaved through rotting flesh and bone, the frost-etched blade cutting cleanly. I moved through the crowd like a storm, carving a path and dropping bodies with every swing.
Then came the Butchers.
These hulking monstrosities were larger than the average Apex, their muscles grotesquely swollen and their mouths filled with jagged teeth. They moved with alarming speed, but Leviathan was faster. I sidestepped the first one, swinging the axe into its torso and freezing it solid before shattering it with a follow-up strike.
I was just catching my breath when I heard a voice—calm, familiar, and thoroughly unwelcome.
“Ah, I should have known you’d be here,” it said, cutting through the chaos.
I groaned, already knowing who it was. Turning, I saw her: Mrs. Konrad.
Standing on the observation platform of the Rage Cage, she looked as immaculate as ever, her pale green eyes glowing faintly in the overcast light. She was dressed in a tailored suit and heels, her appearance at odds with the apocalyptic nightmare surrounding us.
“Please don’t do this,” I said, exhaustion seeping into my voice. “I’m leaving. You win. You and your super Slayers can have the States. I’m done fighting you.”
Mrs. Konrad smiled, her expression equal parts amusement and condescension. “Oh, Daihouzan, you misunderstand. It’s not about winning. It’s about teaching.” She gestured toward the train. “You’ve gathered quite the collection of Slayers, haven’t you? They need guidance, my guidance.”
I rolled my eyes, gripping Leviathan tighter. “So, what? You built a Rage Cage to teach them a lesson?”
She smiled wider. “Of course. They need to feel the full fury of their powers, to understand what they truly are.”
“Jacob asked me not to harm you,” I said my voice hardening. “So I won’t start this fight. But if you keep pushing, Konrad, I will put you in the dirt.”
Her laugh was cold and sharp, echoing off the steel walls of the station. “Always so dramatic. I suppose that’s what makes you Jacob’s protégé.” She turned toward the generator powering the train. “Fine. I’ll leave your Slayers alone—if you can withstand the onslaught.”
With a wave of her hand, she activated the gate holding back the next wave of Apexes. I groaned, pulling out my phone.
“What are you doing?” she asked, curious.
“Getting the proper music,” I said, scrolling through my playlist until I found the track I was looking for. I hit play, and Ice Nine Kills’s only Christmas song blasted through the speakers.
Mrs. Konrad laughed again, the sound oddly genuine. “You would have made an excellent Slayer.”
I shrugged, my eyes fixed on the approaching Apexes. “Blame genetics. I was born without the necrophage gene.”
“Pity,” she said, leaping away with an impossible grace, her heels clicking as she disappeared into the shadows.
The Butchers and other Apexes charged toward me, their roars drowning out the music. With a sigh, I adjusted my grip on Leviathan and muttered, “Guess it’s time to earn my keep.”
The battle began anew, and the chaos surged around me.
A lasher whipped its impossibly long tongue at me before I grabbed it and cut it off with Leviathan. Before bashing its head in with the pommel of the axe. I then turned my focus to three spitters coming my way. I closed the distance as I jumped above one before embedding the axe blade in its head dragging it through the rest of its torso before throwing the axe into the other acidic bile body the blade instantly froze the organ causing the spotter to explode on a puff of ice. I grabbed Leviathan having mowed down through most of the hoard before booting up the refueling machine. As it happened I felt a weird sensation on my arm to see a Shambler head gnawing on it. It was only the head and it had no teeth so it was only gnawing on me with gums. I rolled my eyes and tore it off me. Then I walk back to the train while finishing off the rest of the zombies before entering.
Eunbi was the first to see me as I stumbled back toward the train car, sweat dripping down my brow and Leviathan dragging along the ground behind me. She smiled warmly, her expression one of admiration mixed with a hint of relief. “Well, that was impressive,” she said, her tone light but sincere.
I sighed, exhaustion weighing heavy on my shoulders. “Impressive huh? Must be high praise coming from a slayer as pretty as you,” I muttered, collapsing into a seat as the automated train roared to life and sped off, leaving Willamette and its horrors behind. Eunbi smiled and said,
"Considering all I have seen impressive is right." before leaning into my shoulder as I fell asleep. Her warmth was comforting.
The train ride continued, with more survivors boarding at each stop. Every refueling station brought new faces, new stories, and an overwhelming mix of emotions. Slayers made up a significant portion of the passengers, their newfound powers creating a strange, uneasy dynamic. Not for me since I had been in the dead states of America for a while, and saw how the dead evolved. Some were adjusting better than others, but there was an undeniable tension in the air. Old rivalries surfaced, egos clashed, and the train car felt like a powder keg waiting for a spark. Lucky for me nothing ever did
I mostly stayed on the sidelines, keeping out of the way as groups formed and reformed around me. It was easier that way. I wasn’t really part of their world anymore Especially as we moved closer to civilization. Oddly enough I felt this existential dread creep up as we got closer.
I glanced out the window, hoping for a glimpse of Jacob at one of the stops. He’d taught me so much about surviving this world, about fighting back when everything seemed lost. But stop after stop, there was no sign of him.
I leaned back and closed my eyes, the motion of the train a dull hum in the background. “Hope you’re doing alright, old man,” I murmured to myself.
As the train finally reached its destination, I stepped out into the sprawling new base in South Korea. It was a surreal sight: a blend of American military precision and Korean urban ingenuity. The juxtaposition of East and West was jarring but strangely harmonious, a testament to humanity’s ability to adapt even in the face of apocalypse.
Our little group stood together for a moment, taking in the scene. Chowon, Dinozen, Eunbi, Jihyo, and the others—all of us had shared something profound throughout our time in the dead states. We’d fought together, survived together, and in some ways, grown together.
Eunbi was the first to break the silence, pulling everyone into a group hug. I laughed, caught off guard but not resisting. For a brief moment, the weight of everything we’d been through lifted.
When we broke apart, I grinned and said, “Well, I guess that’s the end of the awesomepocalypse.”
Eunbi smiled, her eyes bright despite the weariness etched into her features. “Awesomepocalypse,” she echoed as if savoring the word. “I like that.”
With that, we parted ways, each heading toward a different screening process. We didn’t make promises to keep in touch, but there was an unspoken understanding that we would always carry a piece of each other with us. One Year Later
I hadn’t expected much contact from anyone after we went our separate ways. Life had a way of pulling people apart, especially after something as transformative as what we’d been through. But Chowon and Dinozen surprised me. Every week, without fail, we gathered at my home for dinner.
Those dinners became a cornerstone of my new routine. Chowon and Dinozen had adapted to civilian life with remarkable grace. Their experiences as Slayers had left them more confident, and more assertive. Chowon, in particular, had channeled her newfound drive into her career. Under her watchful eye, Lightsum had transformed into a powerhouse, rivaling even Cube’s other flagship group, (G)-IDLE, in popularity.
Dinozen, for his part, had found a surprising knack for storytelling. He’d started writing a graphic novel series about the apocalypse, blending his experiences with a healthy dose of fiction. It was raw, emotional, and oddly hopeful—a reflection of the man himself.
So when a Christmas party invitation from none other than Jihyo of TWICE fame arrived in my mailbox, I was more than a little taken aback. I hadn’t heard from Jihyo since the train ride, though I’d occasionally caught glimpses of her in the news. She’d thrown herself back into her work, leading TWICE with the same determination that had carried her through the apocalypse.
I wasn’t sure what to expect as I stepped into the party, but one thing was clear: life had moved on, and we were all finding our own ways to thrive.
As I stepped into the party, the familiar hum of chatter and laughter greeted me. The venue was beautifully decorated, bright lights twinkling like stars in a sky that felt too close for comfort. It was strange, how such a festive atmosphere felt so distant after everything we’d been through, but I couldn’t help but be drawn in by the warmth of it all.
I barely made it past the door when the room suddenly erupted into cheers. At first, I thought I’d walked into the wrong party, but then I saw the familiar faces: Eunbi, Jihyo, and a few others from the Slayer community, all waving and grinning. It was like the whole room had been waiting for me.
“Yo, Daihouzan! You made it!” Eunbi’s voice rang out over the noise, and I couldn’t help but smile.
Jihyo, standing next to her, was grinning too, her eyes sparkling. “Daihouzan! It’s been too long!” she called out, her voice warm and inviting, full of the same energy she’d always had.
The crowd around them clapped and cheered, and I felt an unexpected flush creep up my neck. For a moment, I stood there, feeling like I was the one who’d just won a battle. People were genuinely happy to see me.
I raised my hand in a half-hearted wave, not quite sure how to respond to the warm reception. “I, uh… didn’t know I was this popular,” I said, trying to hide the amusement in my voice.
“Are you kidding? We’ve all been hearing stories about you,” one of the slayers, a younger guy with short black hair, added with a grin. “We have been hearing tales about the sword saint of invincibility all night’ he has quite the reputation around here.”
I chuckled, rubbing the back of my neck. “Sword Saint of Invincibility, now there’s a throwback… I don’t know about all that. Just doing what needs to be done.”
From behind, I heard Nagyung’s familiar voice, laced with that playful edge she always carried. “Since when did you get so humble? When we met you, you had an ego the size of five spitters,” she teased as she walked up with Donny by her side.
I turned to face them and shrugged with a faint smirk. “Life changes people,” I replied simply, though the glint in Nagyung’s eyes told me she wasn’t buying it entirely.
Donny nudged her and added, “He’s just trying to be all Zen now. You know, a mysterious hero. The sword saint, wandering the Earth, helping where needed.”
“Or avoiding everyone because he’s terrible at keeping in touch,” Nagyung quipped.
Before I could defend myself, the crowd’s cheers began to quiet, but the energy in the room remained vibrant. The looks on people’s faces—the recognition, the shared understanding—made something in my chest feel lighter. These weren’t just random strangers; they were comrades, survivors, people who knew what it meant to endure and rebuild.
Eunbi, who had been standing nearby, slipped an arm around my shoulder and leaned in with a grin. “Come on, get a drink and enjoy yourself for once,” she said, her voice playful but warm. “You’ve earned it.”
I smiled at her and nodded. “Alright, alright. Lead the way.”
She guided me to a table where a couple of drinks were already waiting. As I sat down, she leaned back in her chair, her expression curious but filled with pride. “So, I hear you’re the lead villain rider on the new Kamen Rider series, and you’ve been writing for Ultraman too,” she said, excitement coloring her voice.
I nodded, picking up one of the drinks and taking a sip. “Yeah, actually, I got the job because Jacob saw me on a Rider show. He was so glad to see me alive and kicking, that he pulled some strings. He went back to stunt work after helping find the cure, and Tsuburaya picked him up like that,” I said, snapping my fingers. “He’s been killing it so far, and I’ve been helping out where I can.”
Eunbi’s smile widened. “That’s amazing. You’ve really built something for yourself.”
“Well, you’re not doing too bad yourself,” I said, gesturing to her. “I hear you’re killing it in your modeling career.”
She laughed softly and nodded. “Yeah, the pay’s great, and I’ve gotten to travel a lot. But…” Her smile faltered just slightly, and she hesitated.
I raised an eyebrow. “But what?”
She glanced down at her drink, swirling it idly before looking back up at me. “Well, my favorite Sword Saint never came to visit me. Or even stayed in touch,” she said, her tone light but with an edge of something deeper.
I sighed, letting out a quiet laugh. “Well, it would’ve been hard to just show up and say, ‘Hey, I’m the model’s friend. I’m allowed to be here.’”
“It actually would have been that easy,” she countered, tilting her head at me. Then she added with a sly grin, “I put you on all of my plus-one lists, hoping you’d show up.”
I squinted at her, leaning forward slightly. “Why would you do that?”
Before she could answer, Dinozen and Chowon appeared, pulling up chairs and sitting down with exaggerated sighs. Chowon gave me a knowing look, her tone full of mock exasperation. “Because she likes you, dummy.”
“Obviously,” Dinozen added, grinning as he reached for one of the drinks on the table.
Eunbi’s cheeks flushed a faint pink, and she shot them a look of mild annoyance. “I could’ve said that myself, you know.”
I blinked, caught off guard by the bluntness of their statement. “Wait, what?”
“Wow!,” Chowon said, shaking her head with a laugh. “You really are clueless sometimes.”
Eunbi buried her face in her hands for a moment before letting out a resigned sigh. “Well, there it is,” she said, looking back at me, her expression both sheepish and amused. “They’re not wrong.”
I stared at her, my mind racing to process what I’d just heard. Then, slowly, a smile crept across my face. “You know,” I said, leaning back in my chair, “you could’ve just told me.”
“Yeah, well, where’s the fun in that? Besides it would have been tough finding you with all your jet setting, and being an action hero” she shot back, her grin returning.
The table erupted into laughter, a lively buzz of conversation and camaraderie filling the room. But as the noise swirled around us, I caught Eunbi’s gaze. There was something different in her expression—soft, almost wistful. She leaned closer, her voice barely audible over the chatter.
“Hey, can we go somewhere more quiet?” she asked.
I nodded without hesitation, rising from my chair as she grabbed her jacket. The party seemed to recede into the background as we stepped outside into the crisp night air. The quiet hum of the city was a welcome reprieve from the noise, and we began walking side by side. The glow of holiday lights danced off the frost-covered pavement, creating a serene, dreamlike atmosphere.
After a few minutes, Eunbi broke the silence. “You’ve grown quite quiet,” she said, her voice gentle.
I laughed, the sound carrying a tinge of self-awareness. “Well, so has life. I haven’t faced a zombie since Christmas last year, and now with the cure and those gene stabilizers for slayers, a lot more people are immune. So… I guess I’m back to being normal.”
Eunbi let out a soft sigh, her breath visible in the cold air. “You’ll always be special to me, even though you’re not a slayer,” she said, her voice sincere.
I glanced over at her, the warmth in her words catching me off guard. Before I could respond, she stopped walking and turned to face me. Her hand reached up to caress my face, her fingers cool against my skin. Her frown deepened slightly, concern etched in her features.
“Why didn’t you reach out?” she asked, her tone tinged with both hurt and curiosity. “Dinozen and Chowon were always talking about how hard you were working, but they also said you seemed… adrift. Like you were using work to fill a void.”
Her words hit me harder than I expected. I sighed, running a hand through my hair as I searched for the right way to explain. “Well, it’s just that I don’t really know who I am anymore. So much of my identity was tied to my reinvention as the sword saint, and now that’s kind of… gone.”
Eunbi listened intently, her eyes never leaving mine. A small smile tugged at her lips as she reached for my hand, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Well then,” she said as we reached her apartment, “how about we rebuild your identity with a new title?”
I blinked, confused. “What do you mean?”
She opened the door and stepped inside, shedding her jacket as she turned back to me. Her expression softened, but there was a playful glint in her eyes. “As my boyfriend,” she said teasingly.
Before I could respond, she closed the gap between us, pushing me gently onto her couch. The room was quiet, save for the faint hum of the heater and the beating of my own heart. She leaned in, her lips brushing against mine in a kiss that was both confident and tender.
For a moment, the weight of the past year—the doubts, the uncertainties, the endless questions about who I was—faded away. In that kiss, there was clarity, a promise of something new. As she pulled back slightly, her eyes met mine, and I saw nothing but warmth and certainty in her gaze.
“Eunbi…” I started, but she silenced me with a smile.
“Shh,” she whispered. “We’ll figure it out together. Just… stay here with me tonight.” I nodded wordlessly as she began kissing me again. As her boldness and passion increased I could feel her hands dipping under my shirt.
"Bold are we?" I proposed and Eunbi smiled,
"I have been waiting for you this last year and now I got you," she said mischievously before nibbling on my ear. Her warm mouth set my veins on fire, and that was all before she lifted up her shirt.
"fuck!" I exclaimed staring at her chest that was exposed. Her nipples were hard and taut as she stared at me with hungry eyes. Without a word, she undid my pants and wrapped her tits around my rock-hard manhood. I moaned as her soft flesh enveloped me. Eunbi smiled as she continued her fucking me with her tits.
"Oh do you like that?" she said teasingly. I moaned again nodding wordlessly as she kept going hypnotically up and down. The experience was so intense I was unsurprised with how fast I was nearing climax. Eunbi smiled as she kept going as if encouraged by my unraveling, but just as I was about to hit the peak Eunbi stopped and I groaned.
“Holy fuck,” I cry out. Eunbi gets up her chest lathered with precum.
“I’m not gonna let you off that easy,” she coos devilishly.
I groan and she says, "Now I am gonna ride you until all you can say is my name. Do I make myself clear?" I nod and Eunbi sighed
"Words Darling," she cooed and I barely mustered a "Yes Mam," Eunbi frowned at that. As she got up and took off her bottoms. she then straddled me before saying,
"that makes me sound like an Old Lady. Do I like an old lady?"
"No," I said haggardly. Eunbi smiled as she continued grinding on my crotch at an evil pace.
"Good Now figure something else to call me," she said
I ran the list through my head and decided on Madam as it felt the least "Oedipus Coded". Eunbi's eyes stared into mine. Her red Sclera made her brown eyes really pop.
"I am waiting Daihouzan," Eunbi said,
"I am sorry madam," I quickly corrected and Eunbi smiled.
"Ooh I like that," Eunbi said as she slowly sank on my cock. I groaned as she bottomed out. She smiled before saying, "Fuck you so…fuck" she said as her body spasmed. Her walls tightened reflexively as she tried milking me for all I was worth.
"Did you just cum?" I asked confused. Eunbi's breath was labored but before she could even recover she was riding the hell out of me as she took me deeper and deeper inside of her.
"Fuck you just fit right," she moaned as she bounced up and down. Now not gonna lie the way her breasts bounced hypnotized me a bit. Unable to control myself I took one into my mouth. Eunbi lost in the pleasure groaned relentlessly as she continued riding me. Her tempo was frenetic as she chased yet another high. Her moans? Apoplectic with hungered lust (trust me I should know all about apocalypses, and anger)
"fuck where have you been all this time," Eunbi groaned as she kept riding. Her walls tightened again as she moaned. "Fuck what are you doing to me." She moaned as she came again. Unable to take any more of her vicious pace and Exploded inside her tight cavern. Eunbi moaned as we both rode out our peaks with each other.
"Fuck." I said.
"Fuck taking things slow. fuck that! You're moving in with me," Eunbi growled possesively before bringing me in for another kiss.
Shortly after we passed out, and I was woken up by Eunbi's dog Geumbi licking me.
"Oh well, she likes you. that's a plus." I sighed as I got up, and was reminded of my dog that I had before the awesomepocalypse. You know what the more I look back on it the more it sucked. I was always tired and fighting and lost so much." despite that I put it beside me as I got up. Eunbi was in the kitchen drinking a Sprite cranberry which made me laugh as she put on Christmas music. I walked to her and she smiled.
"you know we are gonna need a new name for you since you can't be the Sword Saint of Invinvibilty anymore."
I thought for a moment then said, "Since I mostly play villains… How about Great Demon Emperor Diabolos?"
Eunbi rolled her eyes and then, said"You're lucky I like you being over the top," she groaned before kissing me, and said, "I'll take it for now."
Before we could do anything else there was a knock on the door. Eunbi and I looked at each other confused as we scrambled to look decent. When she opened the door I said the following words,
"Oh fuck oh no oh fuck,"
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ps-cactus · 2 months ago
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ROOTED – Sebastian Sallow & GN!Reader & Ominis Gaunt oneshot – 1864 words
tags and warnings: no smut, no obvious romance, however - established relationship, unreliable narrator, haunting atmosphere, mystery, dark magic, death and resurrection, identity loss and confusion, obsession, (a bit of) predatory instincts, survival instincts, blood, symbolism. Also posted on AO3
A/N: characters here are in their early twenties, not long since graduation. established relationship - you've been living with sebastian and ominis after graduation - you can see this as friendship (might be challenging, but you still can) or anything else; here it can be whatever you want.
Inspired by several songs: In the woods somewhere, Like real people do - Hozier / Rebirth - Poets of the Fall / Funeral of Hearts - HIM <- that's where the 'moonlight' and 'firelight' come from, and i liked how they worked together for these characters
Summary: You died. Here is what happens after a short while.
ROOTED
As you open your eyes, you’re struck by the absence of any memory that might explain your presence here, on the icy ground surrounded by trees.
The cold greets you first. It presses against your skin—a new sensation, a pleasant one. The last thing your body recalls is the suffocating heat of a fever, endless and draining. You don’t know how long it lasted or why it broke, you’re only glad it did.
You push yourself upright, steadying yourself on a large stone nearby. Intricate carvings cover its surface. Runes, whispers something deep within your clouded mind. Important, yes, but too complex for your dulled thoughts to hold onto now.
Your legs barely obey you, but you walk. Distance and time lose their meaning. You just know you must keep moving, must find… something. You don’t know what you seek, only that something is missing.
Had your mind been clearer, you might have noticed him sooner. A man—taller than you, but his frame feels neither threatening nor overly strong. The forest around you is pitch black, the thick canopy blotting out even the cloud-covered sky. And yet, you see him as though the darkness does not exist.
“Sebastian?” he asks. You find the sound of his voice comforting, and you take a step closer.
Perhaps he’s the one you’ve been searching for?
His blonde hair, light-coloured eyes, and pale skin evoke something ethereal. If nature had human embodiments, he would surely be the moonlight—the light you suddenly crave to bask in. Drawn by that resemblance, you step even closer.
He’s been facing you for some time now. He doesn’t approach, doesn’t move—he simply waits. When you stop before him, the forest’s silence envelopes you, undisturbed by your laboured steps anymore. Slowly, your weakened mind starts picking up more. It’s still hard to grasp and analyse the details, but you guess the man has been crying recently.
He points something at you—a wand. The word surfaces in your mind just like “runes” did—it’s important. Meaningful. Dangerous. The faint red glow at the wand’s tip pulses slowly, and you don’t like it pulsing in your direction.
“Hello?” Puffs of mist from his breath linger briefly before vanishing. Though you’re only steps away, he peers around as if still unsure of your presence.
“Hello?” you echo quietly and no mist follows your words. Your voice trembles, both hesitant and hoarse. He feels like the moonlight you crave, and you’re desperate for him to speak again.
“Is it... truly you?”
You stay silent, not because you’re incapable of answering, but because the question itself eludes you. Your thoughts are growing sharper and clearer, but you find no answer within you. Only the softly rustling trees seem to know what “you” means, and you haven’t been able to listen closely enough to grasp it yet.
“Hey?” His tone grows louder and firmer, and he takes a cautious step toward you.
“Hey,” you reply instantly. Your voice is louder this time but remains frail and faint.
The man approaches with deliberate slowness. The instincts generations your ancestors honed over centuries lie dormant within you, leaving only the faintest trace of awareness in the background of your mind. You don’t move as his hesitant fingers find your hand, trail to your shoulder, and then settle on your cheek.
“Hey,” you say once more.
His hand retreats sharply. Flecks of earth cling to his pale fingers, melting into mud speckled with fragments of old leaves. He doesn’t meet your stare, though you keep looking into his eyes. You can’t be sure about anything now, yet his eyes shine with something different—in a way that draws you in.
“But how?” He glances around again, his wand finally lowering from its aim at you. “He didn’t… no…”
He pulls you by the hand, as you walk slow enough to match your stumbling feet. He guides you to a house tucked amid scattered trees. Some of the tension in your chest eases as you realise—you’re not being taken away from the woods.
With each step further from the denser trees, something deep inside stirs sharply. You’re too new to this—to your new instincts—to decipher their meaning. This is, after all, your first day with them. You only know you long to return. The forest clings to you, and every step too far away would tear at you like a root ripped from frostbound earth.
Light and warmth fill the house. The shift in temperature makes you tremble. You want to leave, unable to fathom why the Moonlight man would bring you to such an awful place.
“When did you return?” he asks, releasing your hand. His words aren’t directed at you, but you enjoy hearing his voice all the same. “I’ve been searching for you, but...”
The fire near the wall, encased in stone, is the most dreadful thing in the room. Slightly less so is the other figure—a man standing before the flames. When he turns, the firelight catches his messy brown locks, making you think of smouldering wood.
The Firelight man moves swiftly, closing the distance until he’s right before you. His hands clasp your shoulders tightly, his eyes scanning your face frantically. Freckles scatter across his face, and as he stands away from the dreadful fire, you can’t help but wonder—would this freckled skin feel cool beneath your touch or hot like embers?
“I’d stopped believing it was possible...” he mutters, his wide eyes finally locking with yours and freezing there.
He wraps his arms around you, pressing you against him. His clothes are damp and chilled, with only a few spots where the fire’s heat has left a trace of warmth. He talks a lot, but none of it makes sense to you. He keeps asking some questions you could never answer. His clothes’ scent—of moisture and woods—fills your lungs, soothing in its familiarity. The urge to retreat back into the forest grips you once more.
“Maybe I… can get the bath ready for you,” he says, resigned to your silence, pulling a twig and a few leaves from your hair. “Or let’s just—”
The Firelight man immerses your hands in a water basin and carefully cleans them. The dirt gives way to fine scars—patterns carved into your skin, trailing from your wrists up into your sleeves. These scars, fresh and tender, awaken an inexplicable attachment in you, and for the first time in this new, raw existence, you feel joy.
The Firelight man’s hands are wrapped in bandages, and where they meet the water, faint dark spots seep through. He dips a towel into the basin and carefully wipes your face. You don’t object. You don’t know what else to do, so you simply stand there, feeling the cold water against your skin. The Moonlight man slips something over your shoulders from behind. The softness is nice, but the warmth is less so. You barely notice it’s a wool blanket before he steps away.
You crave moonlight—if not his presence, then the faintest touch of its radiance from the sky. You glance toward the window, but it reveals only shadowy blackness. A hand wrapped in frayed bandages carefully shifts your face back.
The water loosens one of the wrappings on his hand, exposing already familiar patterns carved into his skin, echoing your own scars.
The icy touch of the water on your face stirs a longing to return to the forest, to its pure and unyielding cold. But you still don’t know what you’re searching for or what truly matters, so you simply remain where you are. The Firelight man’s tousled hair glints in the firelight, its colour like deep mahogany, and you can’t tear your eyes away.
“You can hear me, right?” he asks, and your gaze shifts back to his eyes—brown flecked with green, like fallen leaves scattered on the woodland ground. “Want some water?”
Your eyes settle on the glass in his hand, but you feel nothing for the water within—no more than for the moisture still clinging to your skin.
“Or the tea, you must be so cold.”
“Sebastian, stop—just shut up for a moment,” says the Moonlight man, massaging his temples as he paces the room. “What is going on? Please, what have you done?”
“The thing you’ve desired above all else yourself,” the Firelight man retorts, the glass hitting the table with a resounding thud as he turns away.
“Tell me you didn’t go through with that ritual. It’s forbidden; they warned us—explicitly.”
“I never promised you anything regarding this, Ominis.”
“Do you even understand what you’re talking about?”
They keep arguing, their voices climbing in volume and speed. They’re unbearably loud, and it feels so wrong here. You look out the window, drawn closer to it—to the serenity of the night. Beyond the glass lies peace itself—the dense weave of branches, the cushion of moss on the ground and trunks, the gnarled roots snaking through the forest floor. You can see it all so clearly and it mesmerises you.
The clamour behind you doesn’t stop; it feels wrong and chaotic, but truly—means nothing. Their voices fade into the background as you stare at your hands again, now spotless except for the delicate beautiful patterns carved into your skin.
The narrow crescent moon emerges from behind the weighty clouds, and your gaze is drawn upward immediately. For the first time, you can inhale fully, as though the moonlight’s pale, ghostly light exists purely to let you breathe.
The scents around you grow vivid. Wooden floorboards, some damp and others dry and warm. Pungent and earthy, herbs waft from a table nearby, mixed with the burlap’s rough aroma. A dusty sofa carries the weight of years, while the blanket on your shoulders smells of wool and spices... and then you smell blood.
You tear your gaze from the crescent moon, drawn to find the scent's origin. The frayed bandage on the Firelight man’s hand is seeping with warm blood. You’ve never seen fresh blood spilling from human skin before in your life, but instantly, it’s all you desire to see. This is what you were meant to find. Your hands ache to reach out and feel it.
You swallow at the idea of tasting it with your lips.
Without even looking, you sense the moonlight’s gentle touch where it slips past the clouds to grace your skin. It soothes and strengthens you. But it could do so much more outside, beyond these walls. The forest waits for you, as much as you long for it—along with the presence that you know now lingers deep in the darkness.
Your growing instincts warn you that arriving alone would not be accepted. You don’t rush. You stand still, inhaling deeply. The scent of blood dominates the house now—it’s all you can perceive.
The dispute continues in the voices lower but still tense. The Moonlight man’s cheek glimmers faintly with the tear. The Firelight man lifts his eyes to you, his words ceasing, plunging the room into silence.
Everything finally makes sense—you’ll be genuinely embraced there tonight if you don’t return alone. They must come with you.
And you will stop at nothing to ensure it.
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kitkat13001 · 3 months ago
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⊹₊⟡⋆ 𝚕𝚒𝚔𝚎 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚕 𝚙𝚎𝚘𝚙𝚕𝚎 𝚍𝚘
i’ll take care of you. it’s rotten work. not to me. not if it’s you.
>> sanemi shinazugawa x pillar!reader
>> reader is afab (no pronouns used), reader is on their period, sanemi and reader are married, mentions of blood, female anatomy etc, sacchan curses a lot, titled after hozier’s song “like real people do”
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sanemi has half a mind to be alarmed when he comes into the house and smells blood.
you’re home. your sandals are in the hall, and your haori is hanging by the door. his skin prickles and he reaches for his sword, instinctively calling out to you with ice in his heart and dread in his voice.
but when he sees the bloodstained bedsheets, his heart rate slows and he releases a breath. in truth, he should’ve anticipated this. he’s usually got your cycle down to the day, but the time’s been blurring between missions as of late.
you call back faintly, the sound of your voice instantly calming his nerves. the tension bleeds slowly from his shoulders as he kicks off his sandals, sheathing his sword and tossing it aside.
he doesn’t even bother hanging up his haori, instead leaving it discarded on the floor as he trudges to your bedroom.
you’re curled up on your futon, buried up to your face in the covers. he can’t see them, but sanemi would bet his life’s inheritance that your arms are wrapped around your abdomen in pain. 
“i’m sorry about the sheets,” you peep, voice heavy with fatigue. “i was gonna wash ‘em, but i went to lie down for a bit and i just couldn’t get up and i…” you trail off, cheeks flushed and eyes shiny. 
“i’ll wash them,” he’s quick to reply. “don’t worry about it.”
“but they’re—”
he scoffs. “tch. like i’ve never seen a little blood. we’re demon slayers, for fuck’s sake. i said don’t worry about it, alright?”
with that, he strips off his uniform and changes into his comfortable clothing before sitting down next to you with a huff. 
“i sent the tsugukos home,” you tell him in a small voice after a long moment. “figured we could all use the break.”
“hmph. you’re soft with them,” sanemi grumbles. “they’ll never survive in the field if you baby them.”
“mm. well, i made them run up and down the mountain before i let them go, if that makes you feel better.”
“good,” he huffs, and you give a soft laugh. the sound brings a hint of a smile to his face as he glances over at you. 
his calloused hands are gentle as they brush your hair away from your feverish forehead.
“you look like shit,” he murmurs, a concerned wrinkle appearing between his brows. 
“thanks, sacchan.”
he clicks his tongue, frowning. “you know what i mean. guessing it hit you like a damn ten-ton wagon?”
“mhmm,” you nod, keening into his touch as your eyes flutter closed. “y’ don’t have to stay, though, sacchan. i can—”
you double over as another cramp wracks your body, subsequently cutting you off. 
sanemi’s hand finds yours, grip steady and strong as you squeeze it. 
“you need anything? want me to get you somethin’?”
you bury your face in the pillow and groan loudly. 
“i want to not be feeling like this right now,” you grumble, mortified to feel tears building in your eyes. 
sanemi moved to hold you and you’re quick to bury your face in his side, not wanting him to see you like this. 
he clicks his tongue like he can read your mind, pulling you into his lap as he wraps his arms around you. “you better not be thinkin’ any dumb shit about being a burden to me right now.”
“‘m not,” you lie, voice muffled into his shirt. you know it’s futile and that he doesn’t believe you, but his stubbornness has rubbed off on you over the years. 
“yeah, right,” he scoffs. “like we haven’t been married a couple years now and i don’t know your every thought.”
“you don’t know my every thought,” you protest, emerging from his side to frown at him.
he pinches your nose gently. “i do too. right now, you’re thinking—first of all, you’re kinda pissed that i pinched your nose. but you’re probably thinking that you’re weak ‘n don’t want me to see you like this, and that you don’t deserve me—and it’s bullshit. it’s all bullshit, baby. i’d be a pretty shitty husband if i didn’t take proper care of my spouse, wouldn’t i?”
“but i—”
he huffs out a sigh. “i’ll do this every damn month if i have to. if i was gonna leave you over some dumb shit like this, i would’ve done it already. i can’t even count how many times you’ve dragged my bleeding ass back from the butterfly mansion to patch me up yourself, or the days you’ve sat and watched over me while i slept on a mission and all kind of other shit. i said ‘for better or worse’ and i fuckin’ meant it, so shut up and let me take care of you, goddammit!”
you feel tears well up in your eyes at his proclamations, and you curse your damn hormones for acting up so much.
“i’m a blood demonnnn!” you wail, falling back in his lap dramatically as the tears begin to fall.
“you’re my fucking blood demon. i’ll carry you around in a damn box like that idiot kamado boy and his stupid demon sister,” sanemi tells you, a resounding sense of finality in his words. “i love you, and your stupid, shitty uterus. and there’s nothing you can say or do to change it.”
you wouldn’t dare even if you wanted to.
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dividers by @agsthv and @anitalenia
this was a BATTLE to finish omg and i have no idea why. been feeling kinda ugh lately and my period hit me like a TRUCK and so naturally i decided that sacchan could fix me <3 anyways, please like comment and reblog if you liked this! maybe consider giving a follow, once i reach 100 i’ll be doing a lil event! love,
- 𝚔𝚒𝚝𝚝𝚢 !
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leonstoenailunderhisbed · 9 months ago
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I just got out of my psychology class and I kept having thoughts about Leon and how his mind works. Here’s a psychoanalysis on Leon bc I truly do like how his brain works:
TW: mentions of mental illnesses, substances, substance abuse, suicide. (Guys- I am not a medical psychologist or a medical psychiatrist. This is strictly based on my psychology class, take this with a grain of salt.)
Leon suffers from Combat and Violence Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD). This type of PTSD (because there’s subcategories) is most often common in veterans and in men.
More often than not, one can tell when someone’s suffering PTSD (flat voice, substance abuse, inability to sleep, change in personality, etc.)
Leon in RE2/RE2R didn’t necessarily show signs of PTSD until after the events took place. Leon was too busy trying to survive that his brain shut off the emotions he was feeling “in the heat of the moment.” He was scared but it was his survival instinct that allowed him (or the player) to move forward. Hence why I think he also suffered from Depression and Acute Stress Disorder (ASD).
ASD is commonly found in patients with PTSD, ASD is kind of like the first stage after a traumatic event took place. PTSD victims often find themselves having frequent panic attacks. I think it would be safe to assume that Leon in RE2/RE2R had several panic attacks during or after Raccoon City. I don’t think he’d go to therapy/psychiatrist/psychologist because in RE4R he stated that he immediately got called to the White House after he survived RC. And this is where I think it got worse.
RE4 and RE4R both portray very distinct Leon characters. One is more “fine” than the other in short words. Leon in RE4og doesn’t necessarily show signs of having mental issues but maybe he’s just good at masking them. Leon in RE4og often finds himself being very witty or very lean back. He’s less serious but I think it’s a coping mechanism. Up to that point in his life, he’s been in very serious situations that I think this is his way of gaining some of that control he lost when the virus first started. His brain is fighting battles of being in control or letting others control him. In this case- the situation is controlling him. He wants to have that sense of individuality and most of the time this is a coping mechanism. To gain back some of the things he’s lost in the process.
In RE4R, however (and I’m going to be very bold with this one), we don’t know much about how he feels. He is flat and his demeanor is distant to an extent. I’ve noticed a few changes to him from when he first started the game to where the player made it halfway. In the beginning of the game (when he’s with the two Spanish cops) he’s similar to RE4og- sarcastic and a little unserious. Which can be guessed as his normal personality. He doesn’t really show how much he’s actually been through with those two strangers. He’s got better things to worry about- he neglects his own issues. When he tries to find Ashley and he sees the zombies again- his PTSD gets triggered and it makes him be able to pull the trigger (aside from the player lol) There are few types of reactions when PTSD gets triggered and I think Leon’s reaction is a bit depressing.
When Leon sees these zombies again, his brain automatically jumps back to the memories of Raccoon City and almost immediately finds himself back in his former self’s shoes. But he doesn’t have time to linger, he forces those thoughts away and keeps going. I don’t think he wants to have time to think about what just happened because he’s often trying to keep his brain occupied “sorry, must’ve slipped” or any other phrase he says makes me believe that he’s just trying to make himself laugh (because believe it or not, laughter really does help with mental issues) or he’s trying to make the situation seem lighter. Or maybe he’s in denial, his brain hasn’t processed that the same thing that happened in RC is happening all over again. And when you’re in denial, you are repressed. Sigmund Freud said that repression is when someone turns something (trauma, thoughts, events, feelings) away. They deliberately choose to cast their thoughts and feelings aside. Leon bottles his emotions, it’s his defense mechanism. He doesn’t smoke (as mentioned in the game) nor does he drink (there’s a Reddit post that perfectly summed it up for me) He knows substances aren’t good for you and the fact that he’s against them makes me believe that he has other ways of dealing with PTSD such as exercise. I’m not saying this just because Leon looks very built, I want to think that maybe half the reason he works out isn’t just for his job. I think it also because it helps him mentally.
Mobility, sleep, and nutrition are the most important things to keep yourself mentally and physically healthy.
I’ll get on to RE6 because in that game, he pulled a 180 imo. RE6 Leon is more empathetic. He cares about the people that could’ve survived. He suffers from survivor’s guilt. After RE4/RE4R, Leon probably became more aware of his struggles and has tried to deal with them. He’s become more human, he’s allowed himself to feel human. He’s still the same serious guy with the flat effect but he’s becoming more open about his thoughts and feelings. I think the game is trying to hint at us that MAYBE he’s getting better. (Guys this is a stretch okay. RE6 is lowkey messy)
Now on to the films (I’ve done the liberty of researching a ‘order’ of when these may have taken place and not by the release date order so you guys won’t get confused):
ID Leon: He’s very compassionate in this one. He has a sense of self righteousness but I know why. He wants to make up for the losses of the people he’s seen die. He wants to fight against the corporation and wants to end the spread (submarine scene when he talks about RC) He wants to make up for what he couldn’t save. (Hence why he didn’t give Claire the chip- he wanted to protect her because he cares for her)
Degeneration Leon: Protection can only go a long way. Leon is more… assertive in his objectives, if you will. He’s back in his RE4 days in other words (any of the two games tbh, this Leon is complex) Leon wants to keep fighting for his cause. Not only is he forced to be a soldier for the government but he also has found a drive. All his pent up PTSD and trauma has shifted into something else. If no one could’ve been the hero then HE’LL be the hero himself, does that make sense?
Damnation Leon: Haha Russia go brr (sorry) Again, he’s become more chill. When he’s with JD, he’s funny but still cautious (bc let’s be honest, JD could’ve still shot his ass) nothing much to comment, I think he’s been consistent since Degeneration.
Vendetta Leon: NOW WE GETTING JUICY. This man- this Leon is the epitome of what a relapse does to you. Leon is seen drinking away his problems. He’s relapsed back into the mentality where his brain is finally processing everything. He’s even tried to attempt suicide- that’s how bad he got. His PTSD, his ASD, depression (bc you can’t tell me he didn’t have depression) it all came back to him and it made him feel shitty. He lost his power over himself, he no longer feels useful. He feels empty and broken. That’s sh he drowns himself in his own sorrows. Because he’s learned that if you drink until you pass out, you don’t dream. He doesn’t sleep- no. He’d rather black out because when you’re in an unconscious state, you don’t dream at all. You’re simply just lying there on the floor with your eyes closed. And that’s the feeling Leon wants to feel. He wants to forget everything for one minute and just calm down. And alcohol does that to you, that’s why people with PTSD become addicted to substances.
DI Leon: homeboy somehow got better (I’ve yet to watch DI lol) but from what I’ve seen, he’s definitely back to his “normal” self. He probably learned that maybe living life is the best thing. That if his attempt would’ve succeeded, then he wouldn’t have been able to live to his fullest. Regret makes people do a lot of things and I think Leon matured and learned.
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bucketsofmonsters · 1 year ago
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The Witch's Apprentice - Part 7
cw: demon summoning, prolonged isolation, size difference, agoraphobia, depression, more tags will be added as the story continues
male demon x afab reader
Word count: 3k
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7
You woke up alone and felt anything but. The distant buzz of people outside, on the streets, bustling about the hallways of the inn, felt suffocating. It all seemed so loud now, so deafening. 
Lucien appeared in front of you, giving you a quiet “Good morning,” and suddenly, it wasn’t loud at all, his voice cutting through the hum that had seemed deafening moments before. 
“How’re you doing?” he asked as you blinked up at him from your seat on the bed. 
Was his voice quieter than usual? Or maybe that was just how people sounded with the constant buzz of a city in the background. 
“I don’t have any stuff,” you said. It was a trivial complaint, you knew that, but you wanted something to hold onto. Anything that was yours, that wasn’t so foreign. 
He laughed and it felt cruel. You knew it shouldn't, that he was trying to help, but it felt cruel that he was allowed to do that right now, while you felt like you’d been broken into pieces. “We’ll get you new stuff, don’t worry about that.”
Like it was that simple. Like you could just get new stuff and move on. 
It wasn’t his fault. You knew that. He was the reason you were still here. But some part of you; some unsnuffable, horrible little instinct; wanted to blame him. Without him, you would still be home. Without him, nothing would have changed. 
“I just…” you began, with no idea how to articulate any of this to him. 
And then, with the most distressed expression you’d ever seen from him, he interrupted you and said, “I have to go. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
And that was it. He faded away and you were alone again. 
You hated the deafening roar of the city he left you with. 
At least when he was here, you could pretend things would be okay. 
You didn’t have anything left. Anything but him. At least when he was in front of you, you had something to cling to. 
Hours passed before he reappeared in front of you. When he did, you didn’t manage to get a word out before a string of curse words escaped him and he faded out of existence again. 
You barely even moved as you waited for him. What would you do anyway? You had nothing to do but wait, so that’s what you did, patiently and quietly, on the bed he’d found for you. 
It was a shorter wait this time, under an hour if you had to guess. 
“Where do you keep going?” you asked as he solidified in the space in front of you. It was slower without you summoning him, like he had to put real effort into coming to you. 
A pained expression flashed across his face, disappearing as quickly as it arrived. “I’m being summoned.”
“So often? You’re a popular demon,” you said it with the cadence of a joke, but neither of you found it particularly funny. 
“Summonings go through phases,” he said with a sigh. “Names get discovered or obtain reputations. I was too nice for a while, people got comfortable, so I get called upon a lot these days. I’m rectifying my mistake. Hopefully, my name will start to come with a bad taste in people’s mouths in a few decades.”
“Oh. Good luck with that, I guess.”
“Thank you. It’s been going pretty well. Only one major lapse in my judgment,” he said with a pointed look in your direction. 
You couldn’t help but smile a little at that. “I promise to tell everyone you were real mean to me. Very scary, the scariest demon you could imagine.”
A huff of laughter escaped him. “Good. My reputation may survive this little affair yet. Now, what have you been up to?”
Your eyes flicked around as you searched for an answer that wouldn’t sound horribly tragic. 
He didn’t wait for you to find one before butting in at your obvious distress. “Come on, you don’t need to wait around for me. You haven’t had the chance to do anything in years, go talk to someone or something.”
You shrugged. “I’m fine where I am.”
He looked you up and down, evaluating you as you shrunk away from him. “What is it? Did something happen?”
“Nothing happened. I’m just fine in here.”
His eyes narrowed and you couldn’t understand why he didn’t believe you. Surely it wasn’t that difficult to understand. Surely anyone would be hesitant to go back out into the world after being stowed safely away for so long. 
“Something happened,” he said, no longer a question and entirely incorrect.
“It really didn’t. Actually, as long as we’re talking about it, I was thinking. I probably shouldn’t be here at all. I mean, I’m not doing much here. I could always stay in hell with you. It would be easier that way.”
“No,” he snapped, and you flinched back at his harsh tone. “No,” he said again, softer this time, a quiet correction. “I will not let you just lock yourself away again. I will not be your new Eden.”
“I wasn’t asking you to be,” you lied, unconvincing even to yourself.
“You’ll be fine. Just go, talk to someone, get some fresh air. It’ll get easier.”
He didn’t understand, couldn’t understand, just how impossible it was. 
“Yeah, I will. Don’t worry about me.”
He gave you an unmistakably worried look as he said, “Alright, I won’t. I just think that… shit.”
“Is it happening again?”
“Just go do something. I’ll be back when I can.”
As you laid down in bed, with no intention to go out and doing anything, you wondered just how often he got summoned. You’d never really considered it before. You knew it happened of course, but you’d never put real thought into it past how frustrating of an experience it must be for him. 
What would happen if two people tried to summon him at once? Would it hurt? Rip him in two? You doubted that any of the witches summoning him had considered it either. 
And what other things was he being forced to do out there? Surely Eden wasn’t the worst witch he’d ever encountered. What other horrible things weighed on him every day, that he couldn’t help but feel a little responsible for?  
As time ticked on, another thought wormed its way into your head. Maybe he wasn’t being summoned at all. He’d never had to leave this often before he’d helped you make your daring escape and now he could barely stay with you for more than a few minutes. 
It made sense. He’d done what he wanted to do. He’d freed you from the trap he was forced to lay. His part in this should be over, his guilt assuaged, if it weren’t for the way you clung to him like a lifeline. 
The thoughts swam around your head until he appeared once more, looking irritated, eyes distant and cold. 
The spark of insecurity in you couldn’t be snuffed out any longer, not even in the face of his bad mood. 
“Are you actually being summoned?” you blurted out. “Because if you don’t want to be here, you don’t have to be.” You knew it wasn’t true, that you needed him, but still couldn’t stomach the idea of him forcing himself to be here. “I thought we were friends but maybe that was naive. Is it just guilt? Is that what all of this was?”
He sighed, his hands rising to rub at his temples. “It's not... I don't know. Maybe at the beginning. I wanted you to be bad. I needed you to be. And you weren’t and it was the worst thing you’ve ever done to me.”
“I’m sorry,” you said, your voice quiet and broken and completely genuine. 
“You really are, aren’t you? Sorry for what? Sorry for not being awful?”
“Well, not…” You weren’t entirely sure what you were apologizing for. You just knew that you were sorry. “I just meant, sorry for making things worse for you. That’s all.”
“You didn’t make anything worse, not in the long run. I like you. I’m glad you got out of there. It’s just that right at the start I needed you to be a bad person so I didn't feel so fucking guilty. I hate doing this, you know. Being so cruel. Especially to people like you. But if I don’t things get so much worse.”
“You’re not cruel,” you said, knowing it was true and yet somehow, deep down, knowing it was the last thing he wanted to hear. 
“I didn’t used to be. That’s the rule. My new rule. No more being nice to the inexperienced ones. Witches like yours don’t give you opportunities to lash out so if you want to establish a reputation, you have to be cruel when you can be. Every single time they give you the chance. When the little witches summoning their first monster give you an opening, you strike. That way the next one thinks twice when they see your name in some summoning book.”
“That sounds awful.”
“Feels awful too. But nothing feels worse than being forced to do even crueler things so you do what you can. Lesser of two evils.”
“It wasn’t your fault,” you said, knowing exactly what crueler things were flashing through his distant eyes. 
“Maybe not. Still wouldn’t have happened without me. You weren’t the first, you know. You were the first victim she kept, sure, but not the first one who fell prey to that damn forest. You’ve probably seen what’s left of some of them, some bones and remains of them in various forms. She got plenty of use out of them, I’ll give her that much”
Your heart skipped a beat as he spoke and your mind pulled back to the various bones and bits of gore in jars that you’d tended to and organized for her over the years. You’d never thought about them before, not really. Even trying to remember them, it was like a haze began to form in your mind, a buzzing pain starting to settle in over the distant images. 
You started to fall to the side before the feeling of a warm hand on your arm brought you out of your head. “Don’t hurt yourself,” he said, giving your arm a gentle squeeze before pulling back far too soon. “I’m sure she’s tainted most of your memories of anything she didn’t want you to see. It’s probably best to not try and look back.”
Now you had one more thing to mourn, even the memories of your home being ripped away from you. How cruel that you weren’t even allowed to keep those in this strange new place. 
“Right. I’ll do my best.”
He nodded. “I know you will. You’ll be fine. You’ve been doing really well.”
It was a kind lie. You appreciated him for trying to tell it.  
And then you were alone again. 
You did try leaving this place. You swore you did, despite knowing in the back of your head that you couldn’t do it. 
You peeked out the window on the tips of your toes down at unfamiliar faces on the street and stood at the door, pretending you knew how to steel yourself for the task ahead.
At the very least it was something to do with yourself when Lucien was away, gone to a summoning or back to hell or just living his life, doing things he refused to speak about with you, always keeping you at arms length. 
But that was unfair. He was there when he could be during the day, when some other witch didn’t whisk him away against his will to do whatever they pleased. 
He never spoke to you about it, about what they asked him to do. Every time you tried he got very quiet and then began to push back, asking you when you’d go outside. 
Nothing quieted you faster than that. 
At night he was always gone. 
At night you were small again. 
You hated sleeping, avoided it whenever you could. You were terrified of the dreams that might come. You’d honestly welcome a nightmare at this point. Your biggest fear was you would dream of home. Your biggest fear was waking up again after. 
Instead, you just stared at the wall every night, waiting for it to be morning so you could wait for Lucien again. 
A thud pulled you from your trance and your head jerked up towards the window just in time to see a bird falling to the ground below after having slammed into the glass it’s little mind couldn't comprehend. 
You were moving before you even had time to think. It was for the best, you weren’t sure you could’ve managed it if you’d had to think it through, to force yourself to get up and go check on the poor creature. 
You held your breath as you walked out the door of your room, freezing for a moment. You weren’t sure what you expected to happen. 
A woman walked by you, turning to the side and slipping by where you were blocking the hallway with a quiet, “Excuse me, love.”
There was a pressure building in your head, behind your eyes, closing your throat. This foreign air felt toxic, a bile rising inside of you. 
A gentle hand settled on your back and you practically jumped out of your skin to get away from it. 
You bolted at the contact, frightened, flighty. Darted not back inside but through the halls until you found a way outside, running around the perimeter of the building until you found it. 
It was a small, unassuming brown bird, crumpled on the ground, an injured wing tucked under itself. 
You picked it up as gently as you could, cradling it in the palms of your hands. 
Every instinct you had wanted you to run back and hide. Instead, you walked slowly, carefully, trying not to jostle the poor creature too much. 
The woman was no longer in the hall, having left at some point after you’d fled from her. Some part of you felt bad, hoped you hadn’t hurt her feelings or left her worried. 
Most of your attention was on the bird. 
You had no idea how to help it, would have to ask Lucien tomorrow. You were terrified to touch the bent wing, to make it worse than it already was. Even attempting to set it would hurt the poor creature and you couldn’t stomach the thought of it, of inflicting any more pain. 
You did what you could, forming a little bed to rest it in for the night, a little nest out of towels and pillows. 
It was almost funny in a way. A makeshift nest inside of your makeshift nest. You were no better off than this frightened, wounded little creature. 
At least maybe, someday, it could get out of here. 
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strangelittlestories · 4 days ago
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For most people, the first time you touch a zombie is also the last time.
For *most* people.
Like, some of them survive? But if ever a person is going to discover their Aptitude, then your first close brush with the un-unalive is going to be when you do it.
And if you live through that, then every future encounter with a vengeful corpus will be a bit easier. Even if you haven't gotten a handle on your magic yet, your fight-or-flight instincts should kick in before the creature gets too close.
For example: a Meteorologist might find themselves protected by a small, localised thunderstorm. A Schrodinger might be suddenly armoured in thick darkness. Elementals will get a burst of wind if they're lucky, and a full fireball if they're not.
(Preppers are *probably* screwed still, as a sudden awareness of all the ritual components you'd need to exorcise the wrathful attendant spirits is not actually helpful in a crisis situation.)
Some of us, however, are Necks. Y'know. Corpse-whisperers. Spirit-speakers. Ghost-botherers. Necromancers if you're accurate. 'Pathologists' if you're fancy.
For us, the first time you touch a zombie is to feel - deep in your humors - a profound sense of kinship.
Imagine it. A bloodthirsty monstrosity has wrapped its decaying arms around you and your whole world has been reduced to a set of rotting teeth growing ever larger. And suddenly you are aware that your bond with this creature is unlike any before; that every friend you've ever loved *pales* in comparison to the spiritual connection you share with the *thing* that is *trying to eat you*.
I, personally, was trying to fend a zombie off with a pair of toenail clippers when I had my Awakening.
I'm still in touch with that particular revenant. They're a chill guy. Now.
And if you're one of the *early* wave of Necks like me ... you'll also have become aware of *why* people started crawling out of their graves. Of how they were dragged kicking and screaming from the Roads of the Spirit. How they were glued none-too-gently back into their bodies.
No wonder they were vengeful, right?
Try explaining that to your plucky band of aspirant apocalypse survivors (who, by the way, are already deeply suspicious of your sudden lucky escape and new zombie bestie).
I'm just saying, if *your* Aptitude is one that does not require you to frequently touch or interact with things that (as a rule) want to eat you? You got lucky, buddy.
Because hey? Hey! Guess what? Guess what is the first piece of advice that gets given to Aspirants who are sent out into the wastelands?
“Remember: when it comes to the unalive, don’t stick your neck out. Stick your *Neck* out.”
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