#Music of the Forest // Tunes
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FOREST SWORDS // PEARL OF HAIL [SINGLE, APR 2024]
#RELEASE RADAR#audio#forest swords#dub#ambient#downtempo#experimental#pearl of hail#ninja tune#electronic#music
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Forest Swordsâ Bolted
#forest swords#bolted#ninja tune#music#electronic#uk bass#ambient#downtempo#industrial#dub techno#noise#dark ambient#rhythmic noise#hard drum#lofi#abstract#avant garde#experimental#dance#bandcamp
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// I haven't finish the DLC yet but also? Pon Pon's main theme? Has to be this: Like HER theme alone
#the man behind it all // ooc#// Also please listen to the MRD ost its so good#Music of the Forest // Tunes
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#electronic#electronic music#ambient#polar music#synth#alchemisland#synthesizer#bandcamp#music#sounds#soundscape#atmosphere#new music#musicant#tunes#plain of lissom urns#arctic#boreal#snow#spruce forest#grimness#cold#free music#instrumental#science fiction sounds#Bandcamp
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Hesacci - Armageddon đŻ
Follow and Like for more!
Feel the Base in your Heart and enjoyđ
#music#dj#bass#remix#world#trap#house#dubstep#cars#newcomer#crew#adventure#tunes#follow#like#viralpost#viral#artists on tumblr#forest#dark art#art#producer#hesacci#gang#family#familia#sport
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youtube
#youtube#royalty free music#artists on tumblr#experimental music#new music#music video#ambient#tunes#hypnotic#meditative#futhark runes#gothic#gothique#nordic#landscapes#mountains#forests#hills#places#nature
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I'm going on and on
And you listen cause you want
And nobody ever loved like that
Nobody ever talked right back
#Bops for the people#Ford.#Foreign Family Collective#Whole ass vibes#Tunes#Music#Edm#This set at Forest was top three#I spent the first twenty minutes sitting because this was a sit set and I regret N O T H I N G#Color of Nothing opener too just#Perfection#If I could live in that moment forever I just might#Just the right amount of everything#SoundCloud
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Track of the day // Forest Swords - Butterfly Effect
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Tuning a 'Dorffman' Upright Piano in
Stourport-on-Severn, Wyre Forest, Worcestershire.
#Worcestershire #WyreForest, #StourportonSeven #piano #pianist #pianotuner #pianotuning #piano #pianotuners #dorffman
#dorffman#wyre forest#stourport on severn#piano#piano tuner#piano tuning#piano music#pianist#upright piano#piano tuners#wolverhampton#music#piano tuner wolverhampton
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"Hey! Nanamin, Mrs.Nanamin?"
You and Kento looked up at Yuuji from your places on the sofa; you, with your cross-stitch and your tongue between your teeth, and Kento looking over his newspaper and reading glasses. Yuuji dried his hands, having washed the final dish.
He grinned, ruffling stray bubbles into the back of his hair, and tapped away on his phone. Kento's phone buzzed, and he picked it up, looking at the screen.
"It's my birthday next week--"
"--dont worry, Yuuji, we know--"
"--and I'm just gonna have a little party in the Jujutsu High forest. Gojo says it's okay, thought you two could come along. I've qjust sent you the deets."
As Yuuji walked off to his room, you looked up at Kento, who read the invitation in increasing confusion, a dismayed little hum rumbling out of his throat.
"What? What is it?" You asked around the needle pinched between your teeth, leaning closer to peer at Kento's phone.
"The party..." Kento hummed.
"...the party...?"
"Apparently it's going to be 'dank'."
"Oh...sounds unsanitary."
Kento hummed again. "Quite. Though perhaps if we bring our best 'rizz', Yuuji thinks the party will be 'bussin'. Even better, if our outfits 'slay', he'll be 'highkey' excited."
You frowned, then scoffed, calling down the hallway.
"Hey, Yuuji? This invitation..."
"Yeah?" He shouted back, "What about it?"
"Have you had a stroke?"
Yuuji laughed, unabashed, and walked out in his pyjamas, grinning. "Nah, for real for real, it'll be great. No cap."
You and Kento looked at Yuuji like he'd grown an extra head. Yuuji laughed again, and got a glass of water before bidding them goodnight, scoffing as he went into his room;
"Millennials."
You and Kento sat in stunned silence in the lamplight. Kento looked at your cross-stitch and fluffy socks. He felt his reading glasses on his head, his newspaper forgotten in his lap, and you seemed to be thinking the same, before asking him in quiet horror:
"Kento...are--are we old?"
Another dismayed hum, from beside you.
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The 20th of March arrived; a balmy spring evening. The sun was setting as you and Kento approached the forest at Jujutsu High, seeing the flicker of flames in a great firepit, hearing music and laughter, and clinking glass.
Panda tossed bottles of drink across the floating crowd; Maki and Megumi caught theirs seamlessly, and Nobara fumbled hers to the tune of laughter, her eye patch replacing her depth perception.
The birthday boy bustled around, accepting claps on the back, gifts and well-wishes, his hair turned coral in the dying sun. He looked up as you and Kento approached, looking happier still.
Yuuji softened at Kento's smile, accepting a gift with the promise of 'more at home'. Kento patted Yuuji on the shoulder, looking him up and down.
"Looking good, Yuuji. On fleek."
Yuuji faltered, unsure. "Oh, on...?"
Kento turned to you, only marginally irritated when Gojo joined your group. As the conversation grew between you, Kento and Gojo, Yuuji looked more and more sidelined, eventually fumbling for his phone, his trusty translator.
"Went to talk to the higher-ups today--
"Ugh! Adulting."
"-- legit. Looked over their new hashtag 'Student Protection Policies', and they were so fucking basic--"
You and Kento scoffed as Gojo continued, and Yuuji listened on, flicking through the glossary of his mind.
"--so yeah anyway, cheeky humblebrag, but when they told me I couldn't argue, I told them that they'd die of old age before they got a good policy out. Solid clapback, I feel."
You and Kento scoffed, sipping your drinks, answering; "Savage"-- "Woke up ready to throw shade, huh."
The party went on, and Yuuji found himself overhearing more and more of Kento's conversations. Yuuji had a growing list of words on his phone, and increasingly looked at Kento as if he'd been replaced by another man.
Yuuji looked down at his phone, scrolling through the list; he had no answers. He still had no idea what time 'Leet o'clock' was, he'd been called 'dude' at least seven times, and he had lost a game that he hadn't even known he was participating in.
Kento turned back to Yuuji, smiling again at his disgruntled expression, thanking him; "Party's lit, Yuuji. Having fun?"
As Yuuji opened his mouth to argue, you approached, grinning at Yuuji and looping your arm through Kento's; "You alright kiddo? Looking a bit shook."
"I-- what? I don't--"
Kento leaned in to you, talking lowly in your ear; "Just been schooling this boy on the appropriate vernacular. I like to think I'm winning."
You laughed, delighted. "Weird flex but okay."
You melded back into the party ("Oh my god! Megumi's puppers! C'mere boy, who's a good doggo..."), and Yuuji fizzled at Kento, pugnacious.
"You're fucking with me, aren't you?"
Kento looked at Yuuji with absolute innocence. Yuuji puffed his cheeks out, putting his phone away and stabbing a finger at Kento.
"I'll get you back for this. Just 'cos you two are old."
Kento scoffed again, the barest smirk on his lips. "We're not old. You're just a baby."
"Yeah, yeah, Nanamin. Tell me that again when you stop taking two ibuprofen in the morning 'just in case'."
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A cheeky Millennials and Gen Z love letter, written absolutely tongue-in-cheek
#pseudowho#jjk#pseudowho answers you#kento nanami#nanami kento#jjk nanami#haitch#kento nanami x reader#kento nanami x you#kento#jjk kento#kento nanami x y/n#nanami kento fluff#nanami kento x reader#nanami kento x you#kento x reader#kento x y/n#nanamin#kento smut#kento fluff#Papamin by Haitch#Papamin by pseudowho#husband nanami
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Noise in the Forest By Ripe From the album Bright Blues Added to music worth sharing playlist by Dakota Younger
#Noise in the Forest#Ripe#Bright Blues#music worth sharing#Spotify#music#sharing#discovery#new music#tunes#IFTTT
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FOREST SWORDS BUTTERFLY EFFECT [BUTTERFLY EFFECT SGL, JUL 2023]
#RELEASE RADAR#audio#forest swords#dub#ambient#experimental#ninja tune#butterfly effect#electronic#music
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Forest Swordsâ âTorchâ / âPearl Of Hailâ
#forest swords#torch#pearl of hail#ninja tune#music#electronic#downtempo#industrial#dub techno#ambient#lofi#experimental#dance#bandcamp
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Let Me Hear You
Summary: Walking the same path every day while listening to music is your routine. Humming along, Masky makes it his routine to follow you. Until you wander somewhere you shouldnâtâŚ
Characters: Masky x Female Reader
SMUT WARNING MINORS DNI
TW: Stalking, non-con, vaginal fingering, vaginal, Masky's nasty, struggling, you don't give consent/Masky just takes what he wants, choking
Words: 4.2k
You walked this path every day.Â
After every shift of work, every weekend, rain or shine you would slip your shoes on and take that dirt path through the woods. The path used to be an old horse trail used by the previous owners of the land, the dirt dry and matted down for miles. The forest surrounding the path was dense, sunlight rarely slipping through the leaves overhead and giving the lush area a nice, shaded feel. The area was thriving, nature untouched besides your constant walks, but you never dared press off the path out of fear of getting lost. Although the dirt made a giant winding loop back to your home, what lay in the middle made you too nervous to find out.Â
You could usually complete your walk in under two hours, making your way back to the treeline connected to your backyard and safely back into your house. It was routine, so of course, when you got home from work well past nine PM, you slipped out of your uniform and into athletic clothes and a hoodie. Sliding your screen door open, you flicked your flashlight on, the moon hiding behind dense clouds and offering little light. But this was your comfort, if you didnât have anything else, at least you would have these two hours to debrief and get at least some exercise in. Despite the cool summer air, you pressed through your ward and to the well-worn path you knew, disappearing into the trees.
What you didnât know, or rather, what Masky didnât want you to know, was that this path was also his daily routine. Not for walking, persay, but more for observation. His routine was to hang at the edge of that treeline whenever he wasnât busy, waiting for your car to sling into your driveway and for you to come strolling out that screen door. You were oblivious to his presence, sauntering on that path as he quietly shifted behind the trees to watch you unwind the further you walked. In a way, it was his way of unwinding, giving himself something to focus on besides the constant pounding in his head.Â
Now, he hadnât sought you out through choice. It was a sort of coincidence that he began to watch you.Â
Before you lived in that house, the previous owners were old, rarely trailing past the range of farmland and into the trees. So it made it simple. That widespread land in the center of the round path was a popular spot for the various members of Slenderâs band of misfits to visit, hauling whatever recent kill they had made and burying them randomly, difficult to find. Seeing as it was land connected to the house, cops couldnât just stroll through without some type of warrant, so it made it all the easier just to dump the bodies there and forget about them.
Until you moved in, curious little mind pulling you to the trees and investigating the trail. Masky was there that day, burying some boy, or what was left of him, just out of sight. He didnât even realize you were there until your foot crunched on a branch, sending him grabbing for his pistol and aiming it through branches straight to your head. You had no clue, headphones lodged in your ears and playing some old songs, leaving you completely vulnerable. Masky was going to shoot, irritation guiding his movements at the thought of being seen. Until you started humming, tune familiar to some Fleetwood Mac song that stirred in the manâs brain, tugging at some long-forgotten memories that he knew were Timâs. But instead of becoming angry, it was like his body was relaxing, gun slipping back into his jacket pocket and eyes trained sternly on you as you continued walking.Â
It was laughable how unaware you were, even still as Masky followed that familiar path, watching you the same way he always had. He chalked it up to being a precautionary measure, watching to make sure you didnât move further off the path than he wanted you to. But in reality, in the depths of his mind that he wouldnât tell anyone, he just wanted to hear your voice.Â
So, nudging your wired headphones into your ears, you shoved your phone into your pocket, shining your flashlight on the ground below as you walked. You kept the volume low, still able to hear your feet crunch on the weeds as you hummed lowly, swaying the light back and forth. Masky was to your right, hidden in the shadows of the branches as he walked in time with you, straining his ears to relish in your sweet voice. It was his guilty pleasure, getting to hear new and old songs that otherwise he wouldnât. He recognized it as Name by Goo Goo Dolls, an older song he occasionally heard in bars and stores he passed. Tim was already stirring, pressing against the edges of his consciousness and skewing his thoughts, making the man reach for his cigarettes, popping one into his mouth and flicking the lighter. Masky had to put distance between you two now, wary of the smell of smoke alerting you, giving himself about fifteen yards of space but still keeping time with you.
You slipped your hair behind your ear, hands shoved into your hoodie pockets as you walked. The air was rather cool for a summer night, the clouds overhead making you wonder if there would be a storm tonight. Slipping your phone from your pocket, you flipped to a weather app, scrolling through and surprised by the pop-up showers happening within the hour. You'd have to speed up if you wanted to return home without getting soaked.Â
So, shoving your phone back into your pocket, you held your flashlight tight, putting a little pep in your step. Masky was caught off guard, pushing his cigarette box back into his jacket and matching your pace, confused as to why you were hurrying now. He sucked the smoke into his lungs, the pounding in his head sizzling out. You had stopped humming, which irritated him, but he followed in the hopes that you would start again.
Minutes had passed and you recognized the path to be at about the halfway mark. You had an hour left, but the heavy clouds in the sky were already pushing down, thunder rumbling somewhere in the distance. Shit. You wouldnât make it back in time. Stopping, you had to think, to weigh your options of running the rest of the way or cutting through. You had never been off the path, the entire unknown distance in between making you uneasy. But what could be in there that wasnât just more trees? This land had been lived on and used, so you had nothing to be afraid of except the possibility of running into a deer. Taking a breath, you held your flashlight up, stepping off the dirt path and into the thick brush of the woods between.Â
Masky immediately tensed, heart thumping as he saw you turn off the path and past the trees in the direction of your house. You were gonna cut through. The man had realized your hurry, the rolling storm clouds above telling him it wouldnât be long until you were both soaked. But he never expected you to take a shortcut, pressing into the dark shadows of the trees and unfamiliar territory. This was bad. It wouldnât be if he knew you would just pass through, mosy on to your home and out of the rain, but Masky knew better. You see, using that plot of land as a screwed-up burial plot was way too easy and convenient, and it led some creeps to become lazy. Toby was the worst, leaving chopped-up pieces of arms and torsos scattered against the earth, letting nature and curious animals take care of the rest. But that method left evidence, bones and rotted flesh scattered everywhere and easily noticeable. You would see them and become scared, calling the stupid cops and busting them all. He had to deter you.Â
Hiking your legs over tall bushes and weeds, you push deeper in, trying your best to keep straight and search for your porch light. The wind was already blowing, leaves upturned and shaking against the breeze. Keeping your eyes trained on the ground, you began to hum again, Leave Out All the Rest by Linkin Park thumping in your eyes, keeping you distracted against the pants you were heaving. Your leisure walk had turned rough, getting more exercise in than you intended. Meanwhile, Masky was gritting his teeth, shoving through the trees as he pressed in front of you, wracking his brain for some way to throw you back onto the path. You were quick, Masky having to work to stay ahead of you and make sure you didnât run into anything unsightly.Â
Your humming was throwing him off, cigarette pressed tight between his lips as he tried to focus more on you instead of your pretty voice. The pre-storm breeze was picking up now, tall grass whipping against his legs and tangling themselves around his boots. Looking forward, he could see fresh dirt dug out into a pit, one of Tobyâs lazy mishaps again. Masky didnât have a choice, heâd have to confront you if he was gonna get you out of here. Swearing, he crossed your path, yards in front of you and shoved off his mask.
You smelled the smoke before you saw him, his lit cigarette wafting in your direction as the breeze blew. You looked up, flashlight shining ahead and barely catching the man mixed in with all the trees. Heart dropping, you stopped, music still pumping in your ears as you stared at the man across from you. In all of your time here, you had never seen a person in these woods. Especially during the night right before a storm. This was bad. Your breath was shaky, catching up from your quick movements but not getting a chance to settle as you began to panic. You didnât have a weapon, you never needed one, that was a sore mistake now. The man didnât move, just standing and watching, his build taller and larger than yours, able to easily overpower you.Â
Moving slowly, you plucked the headphones from your ears, taking a step back as you shook. âUhm⌠Hello..?â You called, voice shaky as the breeze whipped your hair in your face. The man had his hands shoved in his jacket pockets, puffing his cigarette in the breeze and making your nose furl, the scent sour. âPretty late, huh?â His voice was rough, low and scratchy as he talked, plucking the cigarette from his mouth. You stepped back, nerves begging you to run but deciding it would probably be worse if you did. âHah, uh, yeah. Just out for a- uhm, a walk. Cutting through so I donât get rained onâŚâ You laughed awkwardly, fidgeting the flashlight between your hands as you continued to step back slowly, trying not to draw his attention.
âWell, you outta be careful. Buncha fox traps out here. Could take your foot clean off.â He called, taking a step towards you and making your stomach turn, palms beginning to sweat. He flicked the cigarette between his fingers, ashes falling before he put it back in his mouth, puffing smoke. You glanced around the ground, feet suddenly nervous as you shuffled under yourself, hugging yourself tight. âO- Oh really? Didnât know about that⌠uh, Iâll be careful. Just gotta make it home before it rains.â You went to turn, pushing for another path away from this strange dude. You noticed he didnât have any form of light, standing in the darkness as he began to step towards you, panic surging. Stumbling back, you gripped your flashlight, willing yourself to hit him if it came down to it.
But instead, the man stopped in front of you, tossing his cigarette to the ground and stomping it, glancing at you. âTrust me. Itâd be better if you just take the path. I can walk with you, make sure you donât get rained on too bad.â He was pushing, pressing beside you and guiding you back towards the path, not giving you any choice but to follow beside him as he pressed his hand on your back. The rain had already begun to sprinkle through the leaves, cool mist running across the ground as you held your flashlight close, wary of the man as you walked next to him.
Finally seeing the dirt path again, his hand pushed you to follow it again, the familiar crunch of weeds comforting you against the panic you felt internally. The manâs hand never left your back, keeping you next to him as he walked quickly, moreso forcing you to go this way than advising you. You wanted to run, to throw the flashlight at him and get home but he was stern, the brunt look on his face stunning you. So you just kept walking.
Masky had no clue what he was doing. He only meant to scare you, push you in the opposite direction and disappear again. But when you didnât run, just kept watching, he had no choice but to speak up. He opted to take the mask off, giving you good reason to leave but not scaring you so much you wouldnât come back. He still wanted you to feel comfortable here, just not off that path. Obviously, that didnât work. If your survival instincts wouldnât help you, he would.Â
Minutes passed in tense silence, flecks of water sprinkling onto your face and wetting your hair. His hand still pressed, your shoulders tense as you flicked nervously between the path and his face, the unwavering look making you uneasy. âSo, uhm. Whyâre you out here?â You shook out, filling the cold air as you felt his fingers tense, eyeing you slightly. He was quiet for a second, almost like he was contemplating. âCleanin' up. Got some hunting equipment back there. Had to get it stable before the storm.â He looked away, continuing on.
Settling in, you let him guide you, figuring that if he tried anything, you would be close enough to neighbors to scream. If he was going to do anything, he would have done it where no one could hear. Either way, you knew after tonight you wouldnât be walking back in these woods without a knife. The rain was coming down harder now, thick droplets landing on your cheeks and blurring your vision. Your hair was soaked, clothes sticking to your body as you walked, and chills running over you. âAlmost there.â The man grunted, tugging at his jacket and pulling it closer to his chest, raindrops running down his face. Nodding, you hummed, slicking your hair back off of your face.
This walk was weird without music, and your routine became skewed. So you decided to hum, picking up where you left off of the Linkin Park song and hitting the notes softly. The manâs hand instantly tensed, fingers curling into your hoodie and catching you off guard, stunting your voice. âSorry.â You mumbled, sniffling as your nose became stuffy against the cold. He huffed, flattening his hand out again. âItâs fine. Keep singing.â He huffed, gripping the back of your hoodie. Uncomfortable, you began to hum again, pressing the notes quietly as you walked. The man held your top tight, taking deep breaths as he listened to you, teeth gritted.Â
Internally, Masky was fighting himself, using all of his willpower not to drag you back to your house and force better noises out. Maybe it was his deprivation, the loneliness from all this time, but he couldnât stand how nice you sounded next to him. It was always from a distance, but right now, pressed by his side, it was like you were beckoning him. Like some fucked up siren. He huffed a breath, begging himself just to keep walking, just get you home. But as you hit a high note, throat straining against the sound, Masky's breath hitched, fist gripping onto your back.Â
You paused, humming stiffled in your throat as you looked at him, feet planting beside his as you stopped. âAre you⌠alright?â You asked nervously, gripping his jacket sleeve and gazing into his stern face, eyes dark as they looked back at you. â[Y/N]...âÂ
âHow do youâŚâ You gasped, pulling back against his fist wrapped against the back of your hoodie. âYouâre a real tease, you know that?â The man huffed, gripping your shoulders and shoving you backwards against a nearby tree, shoulder blades shoving into the bark as rain pelted down your cheeks. You shook your head, panic rising in your chest as you pushed back against his arms, his fingers gripping your shoulders tightly. âI donât⌠What?â You huffed, tears pricking in your eyes as he grits his teeth, eyes roaming your body under him quickly.
âOf course you donât. Coming out here every day just to tease. Practically begging me.â The man spat, pressing a knee between your legs and shoving your hips down, forcing a whine out of your throat. You had no clue what was happening, fingers gripping the fabric of his jacket as your hips forcefully ground down against his jeans. âPlease⌠I donât know what you want. If itâs money-â The man gripped your throat, pressing whines and gasps past your lips and holding you flush against the large tree behind you. âCanât you see? I donât want your fucking money, hun.â He grunted, pressing his body close and shoving his clothed bulge against your hip, gripping your hips tightly.Â
You were still clueless, adrenaline pumping and kicking your brain into survival mode, too busy wondering if you would survive to realize the manâs intentions. Grunting, he gripped your cheeks, forcing you to look at him. âListen to me very closely, [Y/N].â He spat, grinding his bulge against your hip, moving your hips along with his against his knee, making your eyes shoot down, cheeks growing hot. âI just wanna hear that voice. You canât imagine how many days I listened to you humming and wanted to turn them into moans. Youâre just so⌠addicting.âÂ
You couldnât comprehend what you were hearing, your mind too muddled with the feeling of your clothed cunt throbbing against the manâs leg, his hands rough against your hips. âI donât understandâŚâ You grunted, pushing back against his shoulders as he leaned in, pressing his lips close to your ears.
âI need to fuck you, hun.â He mumbled, pressing a kiss against your ear as you gasped, flinching against him. Shoving a hand up your shirt, he pushed the cloth up, rubbing his rain-soaked hands against your warm skin. You didnât know what to think, didnât even know what to do. This guy overpowered you by a long shot, but as he pressed his hand into your shorts, you couldnât hold back the whine that sounded.Â
âYeah, yeah, noises just like that, hun.â He smiled, pushing your shorts down to your thighs and groaning at the sight of your panties. Your clothes were soaked now, pressing uncomfortably against your skin as he pressed a finger against your clothed cunt, pushing his thumb between your folds and onto your clit. You gasped, gripping his arm tight as he watched, your eyes trained on his face and hand as they moved. âI donât-â
âJust donât hold back that voice, mkay? Let me hear youâŚâ He sighed, shoving your panties down before you could stop him, rubbing his thick fingers between your folds. Slick collected against the digits, your body betraying your racing mind as you decided to give up, fighting obviously useless.Â
Masky was electric, fingers moving faster than his mind could cooperate as he pressed against your clit, causing your body to stutter under him. Even if you didnât know him, he knew you, and he knew that this was what you needed. Rain ran down his face, he rubbed his fingers against your cunt, pressing in and stretching. You couldnât handle it, mind racing as he slowly fucked you open, body unsure of what it was even supposed to be doing. He shoved deeper, curling up into you until you were moaning out, fingers digging in. You gripped and held his forearm, too sensitive to take it as you spasm against his fingers, words getting caught in your throat. Masky relished in the way you gasped every time his palm hit your clit, fingers pumping up until you were gushing against him, arousal building. With every unforgiving pump of his fingers, you were losing your restraint, mind muddled under his grunts and thick fingers.Â
âCan barely hold back, yeah? Go ahead, be as loud as you need to.â You were biting your lip, eyes screwed shut as you fought off your orgasm, refusing to give in to this eager man. Until he leaned in, licking against your neck and pressing his wet hair against your cheek. You shuddered, losing your resolve until you were clenching around his fingers, his palm shoved against your clit and rubbing your orgasm out, chuckling as you cried out, your resistance completely gone.Â
He didnât give you a moment, shoving your panties down to your knees and leaning up, unzipping his jeans. Stuttering, you whined, watching as his length sprung free and pressed against your abdomen. âWhat are youâŚâ You gasped, vision blurry and goosebumps running against the throbbing still in your cunt. âI already told you, hun.â He hissed, pumping his cock with his wet hand before he was pulling your hips close, feet still planted but knees buckled. He pushed his cock down, pressing the tip against your lips, pushing forward until your lips were wrapping around him, clit spasming. You whined, the man angling your hips until your entrance pressed against the tip, your hands gripping his shoulders tight as he pulled you to him, pressing inside.
You gasped, his thick cock stretching you until you were gritting your teeth, his head nudging against your soft walls. âDonât hold back, nowâŚâ He gasped, chuckling as he began to grind your hips down onto his length, your folds pressed against him with every deep thrust. You couldnât handle it, stomach tightening with every tug and pushing gasps through your lips. No matter how badly you tried to keep quiet, you just couldnât, the sensitivity dragging noises from you. He was ecstatic, every moan matching yours as he thrust faster, nails digging into your hips. He stared you in the eyes, dark gaze staring through you as you stared back, jaw hanging open.Â
As if by instinct, fingers pressed into your mouth, shoving down into your throat until you were gagging, throat constricting around the digits. He was moaning, your lips wrapped tightly around his fingers as you sucked, your head becoming light due to the lack of oxygen. He would pull back slightly, giving you a moment before shoving his fingers back in, spit building against your lips. You couldnât handle it, couldnât comprehend anything but the intense pleasure of his thrusts, fingers muddling your mind.Â
Before you knew it, you were clenching around his cock, clit straining against the pressure until you were crying out, choking on his fingers pressed knuckle-deep into your throat. âFuck, hunâŚâ He groaned, bottoming out against you and gripping your hips tight, relishing in the way your throat squeezed in time with your cunt. You were whining and grunting against him, eyes rolling back until you were coughing, cunt throbbing as spit ran down your chin.
Ripping his fingers from your mouth quickly, he slid your cunt off of his cock, throbbing hard as he fisted himself quickly, pressing the head against your abdomen. You gasped, heaving for breath as you watched, eyes heavy and face soaked with rain. He came against your skin, seed shooting against your stomach as he was rubbing the tip against you, cursing as he stared into your eyes. It was all too much, knees buckling against him as he gripped your waist tight, shoving your hoodie down and pulling your shorts up, your wetness soaking into the fabric. Your eyes lulled closed as he threw you over his shoulder, legs gripped tight as he began to walk through the trees, abandoning the path completely. But you were too delusional to think, mind too frayed to fight against him.
-
When you woke, you were in your bed, clothes still damp and hair still tangled. Cursing, you sat up, cunt sore as thunder roared outside, the hint of sunrise peeking against the trees. You tried to wrack your brain, tried to comprehend what had happened. But when you moved, feeling the crusted semen against your stomach, you decided a shower was the better option.
You still walked that path, just more cautiously now, carrying a knife in your hoodie every time. Cautious, you always made sure to stick to the path, unsure if the âfox trapsâ existed or not, but not wanting to tempt it.Â
You still had your headphones lodged in your ears, keeping the volume at a good level as you walked, making sure to hum just a little louder. Occasionally, catching a whiff of smoke.
This was an anonymous request!
Comments and reblogs are appreciated! đââš
#smut#creepypasta#masky x reader#creepypasta masky#masky marble hornets#tim masky#mh masky#masky smut#masky x you#marble hornets#creepypasta smut#creepypasta x reader#tim wright#creepypasta fandom#slenderverse
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Cannot take what was never meant to leave
Yandere!king OC x fem!fairy!reader
Summary: Edmund walks out in the forest and finds something he never seen before: a tree fairy. Upon learning that he can't take her as long as her tree is there, he does the only thing he can think of.
Warnings: Edmund is a bit more insane than usual, reader is in a lot of pain, kidnapping, basically killing, use of an ax
Word count: 2.5k
A/N: this is HEAVILY inspired by Erutan's song "The Willow Maid"!! I have absolutely loved that song for ages, and after seeing PurestarMedia's music video of it on YouTube, I had to write something!! Edmund felt like the perfect fit for it!!
Summer is almost over. He can tell by a slight shift in the winds that colder times are approaching, even though barely any of the trees show any signs of autumn. He can't wait until he can bring out his thicker coat. He likes the colors of it much more.
Ten men he brought with him on his hunt for rabbits. They've decided to go into another part of the forest in hopes of finding anything.
Suddenly. A sound.
âShh!â Edmund hushes and holds up a hand, signaling the others to stop.
He listens closely. It sounds like humming. It's a tune he has never heard before, but one that feels weirdly familiar â as if he has heard it in a dream or past life.
Quietly, they follow the sound until they reach a field full of small, white flowers. In the middle of the white field stands a tree with dark leaves. A scene taken straight out of one of the paintings hanging on the castle walls. Edmund notices someone sitting by the foot of the tree, resting among the roots. A woman?
The group of men creep closer. The woman is lying on the tree roots, leaning her head against the tree trunk, having a root under her knees for support. She's dressed in a long, white gown reminding Edmund of the small flowers. On her head rests a flower crown made of the very flowers. Her eyes are shut. Her mouth hums.Â
A fairy.
One of Edmundâs men steps onto a branch on the floor, which snaps in half and pulls the fairy out of her thoughts. Her eyes snap open, revealing them to be deep and dark â and full of fear. She shoots up from her root and stumbles backwards, hiding behind her tree.
âWho are you?â she asks quickly. âWhat do you want?â
âYou are a fairyâ, Edmund says, still in disbelief.
âYes ⌠what do you want?â
âHave you seen any rabbits around here?â
She peeks out from behind the tree.
âWhat do you want them?â she asks and seems to notice the rifles hanging over their shoulders. âI'm not assisting you in killing harmless creatures.â
Edmund meets her dark eyes. They're hypnotic.
âYou humans are despicable sometimesâ, she says. âKilling innocent creatures who haven't done anything to you.â
âIf I wouldn't, someone else would â man or animal.â
âI want you to leave.â
âYeah, we should move on. We have rabbits to hunt.â
He can feel her eyes burn through his back as he walks back over the field of white flowers. He hopes that she will watch him until he disappears into the forest.
âDid you have a good hunt, your majesty?â his secretary asks as Edmund and his ten men come back to the castle.
âCaught a few rabbitsâ, he answers and smiles, thinking of the memory. âWe encountered a fairy.â
They start to walk inside.Â
âA fairy?â the secretary asks and holds the door into the castle open for the young king.
âWhat do you know about fairies?â Edmund asks.Â
They walk down the large hall.
âI know that, like humans, there are different types of fairiesâ, the secretary says. âYou found her in the woods, you said?â
Edmund nods.Â
âSheâs probably a tree fairyâ, the secretary continues.Â
âYeah, she was sitting by a tree ⌠almost like it was holding herâ, Edmund says, furrowing his dark brows as he thinks about it.Â
He holds out his arms as if he was carrying a woman, imagining her knees bending over his right arm and her back supported by his left ⌠her head resting on his shoulder â like she had done to the tree bark.Â
They walk into Edmundâs office, closing the door behind them.Â
âWhat do you know about tree fairies?â Edmund asks and throws himself in his chair.Â
âI know that they live in the woods and that they are connected to a particular tree. They feed off of sap from the tree and flower nectar â and if their tree bears fruit they eat that too.â
âWhat happens if they eat something else? Like meat? Or potatoes?â
âI donât know, your majesty.â
âWould it kill them, do you think?â
âPerhaps. What I do know kills a tree fairy is killing their tree.â
Edmund looks up at him. âWhat?âÂ
âTheir life source is connected to their tree. They live as long as their tree does.â
âSo youâre saying that a fairy can become hundreds of years? Thousands even?â
âCould be.â
âInteresting.â He sighs and throws his head back. âYou should have seen that thing. Before she noticed us she looked so ⌠peaceful. She was resting and humming a tune. When she realized that we were there she flew up and hid behind her tree. All of that seemed so young and naive. Her tree wasnât that large either. I think Iâve found myself a young fairy.â
âThe fairy seems to interest you.â
âIâve always wanted to meet a fairy. I didnât believe that they actually existed. But now, Iâve found one. I think that Iâm going to make her my wife.â
The next day, he returns with his ten men and his secretary, dressed in his autumn coat. On the way to the glade, Edmund picks a few flowers with the biggest nectars he can find, hoping that they will be a good enough gift. He is going to ask her to marry him.Â
She is walking around the white flowers, picking up a few and putting them in her flower crown. She looks up as they come. This time she doesnât look as startled, but thereâs something wary in her eyes.Â
Sheâs beautiful and delicate, thereâs no denying. Edmund needs her. Every fiber of his body needs her. She needs to be his wife, to be the mother to his children. He refuses to leave without her.Â
âWhat brings you back?â she asks as Edmund gets close enough, but doesnât sound like she wants to know.Â
He can tell that she wants to get back to her tree. She gives it quick glimpses and takes small steps back towards it.Â
Edmund holds out the flowers towards her. She hesitates before taking them out of his hand. Her fingertips barely graces his skin. Her touch is humanlike, kind and delicate.Â
âThank youâ, she says and smells them softly.Â
He smiles. He wants nothing more than to hug her, to hold what belongs to him in his arms, but he has to ask the question first.
âI want you to marry meâ, Edmund says.Â
The fairy drops the flowers in shock. They disappear underneath the small, white ones. Edmund furrows his brows.
âMarry you?â the fairy repeats, shocked. âHow could I possibly-? No, no, I shall not.â
Edmund stares at her, eyes darkening, unable to understand how anyone could turn down his proposal. Women would travel far and wide to hear those words come from his mouth, and this fairy â who does she think she is â doesnât even think twice before rejecting him. It should crush him, but instead it has the opposite effect. He will not leave without his fairy.Â
He looks over his shoulder, at his ten men. âSeize her.â
Just as the ten men are about to grab the fleeing girl, his secretary grabs his shoulder.Â
âYour majesty, donâtâ, he says quickly. âThat wonât be possible. She canât leave the glade.â
âWhat do you mean?â Edmund scoffs.
âSheâs connected to that tree.â He nods towards the tree in the middle of the field. âShe canât leave it.â
Edmund glares at the tree. That damn tree. The woman runs through the flowers towards her tree, hugging it tightly. Edmund finds it humorous how she thinks a simple tree could protect her. He could do it a hundred times better, will do it a hundred times better.Â
He sees how she sinks down by the tree, huddled up by the tree bark, crying. Soon, she will search for comfort in him, not a damn tree.Â
âWe canât take herâ, the secretary says. âI donât know what would happen if we tried, but as long as that tree is there, we canât remove her.â
Edmund doesnât answer as he walks back into the forest. The ten men follow him. His secretary keeps a distance. Edmund feels like he could explode with anger. He had pictured himself leaving the forest with his new fiance hand in hand. But he will not give up. He will get his fairy.Â
He returns a third time the next day. This time heâs by himself ⌠and this time, heâs brought an ax. Determined to take her with him. She will be his wife. This time, heâs not taking ânoâ for an answer. He will not walk away empty handed. The thought consumes him as he marches through the forest, towards the glade.Â
He can see her lying in the same spot he had seen her the first time. This time, sheâs not humming. She opens her eyes as he gets nearer and jumps to her feet as her eyes fall on the sharp edge of the ax.Â
âNo!â she screams in pure panic. âNo, what are you doing?! Donât!â
Edmund lifts his hands and lands a blow on the bark, cutting away a piece. To his right, the fairy screams in agonizing pain and clutches her heart. He continues to hit the tree. The woman continues to scream. She cries in pain.Â
It takes longer than he expects. He takes his eyes off the deep cut in the tree and turns them towards her. Sheâs lying between the roots, curled up with her hands pressed against her heart, crying and screaming.Â
âPlease stop!â she screams and sobs so that her entire body trembles. âY-Youâll kill me! Please s-stop, please! Iâm begging y-you!â
If he continues to hit the tree, she will die.Â
Edmund will have to bring a piece of the tree with him and replant it in his castleâs garden so that it doesnât die â so that she doesnât die. He continues to chop. She continues to scream, cry and plead for him to stop.Â
A loud creaking echoes through the air. He watches as the tree bends in half and falls. The fairy stumbles upon weak legs and hugs her fallen tree, sobbing.Â
With the ax, Edmund manages to dig up root systems of the tree. He holds it in his left hand and grabs the fairyâs wrist tightly with his right. He yanks her up on her feet.Â
âYou belong to me nowâ, he says.Â
She only sobs for an answer. She tries reaching out for her tree, but Edmund pulls her with him. She stumbles. He drags her into the forest.Â
âPlease âŚâ, she sobs. âPlease âŚâ
He doesnât know what she begs for. The tree is fallen, he canât undo what he has done.Â
âPlease, Iâm in so much painâ, she pants.Â
He doesnât listen, doesnât have time for it. He has to get her to the castle, where he can lock her in, so that she canât escape out to the forest again.Â
He can feel her collapse. Edmund gasps and watches her lie lifeless on the ground. He shoves the tree roots in his pocket and hurries to check her pulse. Sheâs still living, for now. Edmund stresses to pick her up. Her limp body rests in his arms as he runs out of the forest, towards the castle.Â
He runs into the castle yard, into the hallways and out to the garden. He lays the fairy down on the grass and hurried to dig a hole with his hands. Oh, how he hates the feeling of dirt under his nails. He canât think about that now.Â
He places the root in the hole and covers it with the soil. Edmund runs over to the fountain, cups his hands and fills it with water. He runs back and forth until enough water has been poured over it. He feels for a pulse on the fairyâs neck. Thereâs still a faint pulsation underneath his fingers. He removes his coat and places it on the ground beside the tree root before lifting the fairy onto it. He caresses her face.Â
âYou actually got her.â
He looks over his shoulder at his secretary. He stands there, looking at them in disbelief and horror.Â
âIs she dead?â he asks.Â
âNo, not yetâ, Edmund replies breathlessly. âI brought a piece of the tree here and I have replanted it. She should survive. But we need flowers â lots of flowers. And anything else a fairy might eat. We need to nurture her back to life.â
âIâll prepare some honey water, I think that should be drinkable.â
Edmund sits by the fairy, waiting patiently.Â
Hours go by. She doesnât move. Barely breathing. Edmund wonders if he she has fallen into some kind of limbo, where the tree is barely alive, and so is she. If the tree doesnât survive, neither will she. He has to nurture both.Â
He feeds the tree water and nutrient dense soil and tries to pour droplets of honey water into the fairyâs mouth. Sometimes she responds by swallowing softly, and sometimes let it drip out of her mouth.Â
Hours turn to days. Days to weeks. As the tree slowly grows roots in Edmundâs soil and become stronger, so does the fairy. Edmund doubts that she will ever become as strong as she was before. The tree will never be in its full glory again, and neither will she. She canât walk, her body is too weak to move more than a few minutes. He lets her rest by her short stub. When he canât stay with her, he watches from afar, from one of the windows. Sheâs always curled up, hugging her stomach as if sheâs got cramps. The poor thing never smiles anymore.Â
He holds a glass of warm honey water in his hands as he walks out to the petty excuse of a tree. It'll take years to become as big as it originally was, but it will never be the original tree.
âHiâ, Edmund says softly and sits down beside the fairy, holding the cup to her dry lips.
She doesn't seem to care what she gets fed anymore. Maybe she hopes that it will kill her.
In a sense, Edmund has killed the fairy.
She drinks slowly.
âI don't know what to feed you when winter comesâ, he says. âI have harvested a lot of nectar and sap, but I don't know how long that will be good for.â
A tear runs down her cheek. Edmund wipes it carefully.
âMy fairy, don't worryâ, he whispers reassuringly. âI will figure it out.â
He wishes that she could respond, but he hasn't heard her voice since that day she screams in pain â when he killed her.
He stands up, gives her forehead one last kiss before walking back inside. In the beginning, he used to have guards watch over the garden to make sure that she wouldn't run off, but he realized that as long as that tree is there, she isn't going anywhere.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere drabbles#yandere oc x you#yandere oc x reader#yandere fics#yandere king#yandere oneshot#yandere fantasy#yandere oc#yandere x female reader#female reader
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Thinking thoughts about these guys again
Creepypasta/MH - Things That Make Them Think of You
Characters: Jeff the Killer, Jane the Killer, Clockwork, Nina the Killer, Tim/Masky, "Ticci" Toby
Jeff the Killer
Violence. Specifically, committing it
I know that sounds bad, but he gets so high off of that stuff
The adrenaline rushing through his veins, the wild smile that comes to his face, the noise, the sights... it's euphoria for him
And when he reaches his peak, endorphins at maximum saturation, that's when he thinks of you
It's almost like he subconsciously asks himself if there's anything in the world that could make him happy like this, and his subconscious responds by conjuring an image of you
As if he couldn't get any happier, thinking of you just pushes him higher
This happens a lot...
He'll be killing someone, already over the moon, then he'll blast to Mars when he thinks of you
And he starts associating you with violence; even if you're the gentlest person in the world
It's the happiness it brings him that links it to you
Though if you're a psycho (affectionate) like him, there might be another reason he associates it with you lol
It just gets worse over time; eventually he can't even see other people committing violent acts without thinking of you
He'll be watching a horror movie, and blood will splatter the screen and he'll be like: Nice. Y/n's nice too. Y/n... <3
Jane the Killer
Quite the opposite of Jeff; it's the quiet moments that get her thinking of you
(my reasoning is confusing but I'll try my best to explain T-T)
And there are two reasons for this
One, because whenever she gets a moment to think to herself, her brain always wants to think of you first
Maybe it's just hunting that hit of dopamine it gets when she imagines your smile, or the way your hands feel in hers...
Or maybe it's just that it's become a habit for her to think of you so often, so it's second-nature that she does so when she gets the chance
But the second reason is that she loves peace, and you are her peace :)
She's a vengeful person with a lot of turmoil inside, so when her environment is peaceful, she tries to follow suit
She's just taking what she can get before she has to go back to hate and obsession
So she imagines the peaceful things in her life
Namely, you
Even if you're not a very peaceful person, she feels at ease when she's with you
So, when it's quiet, she thinks of you to quiet herself
Memories of forehead touches and holding hands are more than enough to fill the silence :)
Clockwork
Literally everything.
Iâve mentioned this in a previous post, but Clockwork will find the most random things that remind her of you
Sheâs got a very creative mind; she can find the subtlest of things that make her think of you
Oftentimes theyâll be disturbing thingsâŚ. Like a dead animal or smth
But she gets a little smile when she thinks of you anyway :)
Sheâll probably send you a picture of whatever it was that reminded her of you
So youâll just get a text out of nowhere like:
[picture of a dead wasp] âthought of you <3â
After a while youâll learn to just not ask
Because youâll definitely get one of these texts AT LEAST every other day, if not every day
Sometimes theyâre actually nice things though! Like a song or a pretty sunset :)
Or something she saw while shopping that made her think of you; she always makes sure to steal âŚobtain those things
And ofc she gifts them to you đ
Nina the Killer
I think it depends on your aesthetic
To me, Nina is someone whoâs very in tune with aesthetics
Even if yours is super niche, or it doesnât fit under a specific category like âemoâ or âbutchâ or even âclowncore,â sheâs got it DOWN
And so itâs always things that fit your aesthetic that make her think of you
Maybe itâs a view: a dark forest, a bright sunset in your favorite color, a sunny park, an eerily empty sidewalkâŚ
Maybe itâs clothing: pants, shirts, dresses, jackets⌠always the exact kind of thing youâd wear :)
Maybe itâs music: she listens to music like. All the time. So sheâs definitely at least dipped her toes into a genre thatâs so totally you
Or maybe itâs something miscellaneous: a pop tart flavor, a blanket, a picture, the color on a soda dispenserâŚ
No matter what it is, youâre guaranteed to love it
She always manages to surprise you with yet another random thing perfectly suited to your aesthetic
And sheâs always on the hunt for more >;)
If itâs something she can physically bring to you, you best believe she will though
And if you decide you hate it (you wonât, but maybe later when your aesthetic changes), you guys light a bonfire and burn it together :)
Tim/Masky
Itâs a Polaroid picture of you
Heâs not in the picture; itâs just you
The flash is on, illuminating you and leaving the background in dark obscurity
He took it himself one night when he was just enamored with the way you looked
He did it casually, just telling you to look at the camera
The rest was all you; maybe you smiled, maybe you threw up a peace signâŚ
Whatever you did, he felt it captured your essence perfectly
He stared at the photo for a long time after it came out, and he still stares at it frequently
He carries it deep in his wallet where no one can find it
Heâll pull it out when he needs to think of you, usually when heâs especially down
Which is pretty often, my boy is troubled :(
Heâll trace his fingers around the edges, remembering that night
Your voice fills his ears, your scent fills his nose, and suddenly heâs aching to see you in person again
And he will; heâll probably call or text you soon :)
âTicciâ Toby
Honestly? Probably something super obscure related to some kind of inside joke between you two
Iâll paint an example
Maybe you two were in the kitchen together, and you wanted him to get out the milk for you
But you ended up calling it a âmug of jilkâ instead of a âjug of milkâ
Toby, of course, bursts into laughter
He teases you for ages afterwards, calling milk âjilkâ and always pointing out jugs of milk with a knowing grin
Youâre in on it too though
You always snicker whenever he does those things
Maybe thatâs why it becomes so special to him; it amuses the both of you
He gets to laugh and hear you laugh :D
So (in this case) heâll think of you whenever he sees a mug of j (oh gosh oh no you guys got me too) jug of milk
And he probably takes pictures to send you too
Youâll just get a text that says âjilk mugs spotted âźď¸â and a picture of the milk aisle at the grocery store
He likes to imagine your laugh when he sends texts like those :)
Thank you so much for reading!! Take care my lovey doves <33
(divider by saradika)
#creepypasta#creepypasta x reader#creepypasta headcanons#marble hornets x reader#jeff the killer#jeff the killer x reader#jane the killer#jane the killer x reader#nina the killer#nina the killer x reader#tim wright#tim wright x reader#masky x reader#ticci toby#ticci toby x reader#tobias rogers x reader#clockwork#clockwork x reader
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