#i thought we already knew that they all got cannibalized? i thought that was the thing?

[macklesufficient]

congratulations to the terror mutuals or sorry that happened

[quills-of-freedom]

Short story ~

First time with Reiner Braun 🌺

Female-bodied reader X Reiner Braun

Reiner had been acting strange since the two of you shared an interrupted kiss a week ago - and now you're partnered together on wilderness training. What could possibly go wrong?

Includes: Confession of love. 18+ only ~ fluff ~ smut

Reiner had been acting weird all day, but you couldn’t really blame him. The last time you were alone together, you'd ended up locking mouths in a steamy kiss. You hadn’t spoken about it since – You hadn’t really had the chance. Between training and having your classmates around, it was a perfect cover to avoid a potentially awkward conversation.

When Shadis announced that for this exam, you would be teamed up together, you both internally groaned.

You had another two years of training, and you were bound to wind up alone together again at some point. You'd both made sure that during the entire hike, you didn’t let one silence befall the conversation, which would force you to talk about the inevitable subject of the heated kiss.

It was quite comical, actually.

Constant talking either about your task, your friends, or at one point even pondered and speculated if a person got a sunburn in front of a cannibal; would the cannibal start watering at the mouth?

Anything to not talk about the kiss.

It’d been a whole week since the incident and it wasn’t like you didn’t want to address it. The both of you just didn’t want to know the other's thoughts on the matter. You both had serious reservations about it; you were totally focused on training and not fooling around, unlike some others in their class.

And yet…

The kiss only fanned the flames of the huge crush Reiner has had on you since day one. The crush that, over the last twenty months, had developed into something a lot deeper. He’d kill for you. He thought about that only earlier when you had made a joke about something and it really tickled him to the core; resulting in a loud belly laugh. So, when the sun was starting to set and you had found a good place to camp for the night… that was when things would inevitably go south.

“Hey Ba- uh, y/n?” Reiner called out in a chilled horror. Not only from the slip of the tongue but also from what he had discovered in their shared backpack.

You were only a few feet away, starting a campfire when a small laugh left your sweet lips. “Did you almost call me Bertolt?”

No. I almost called you “babe”

“Uh, yeah. Sorry. But we have a problem.” “What is it?” You frown, heading over.

He pulled a large, folded bit of material out of the pack. “…We only have one tent.” You looked at him like he spoke another language. “So? It’s not the first time we’ve had to share a tent with a partner during training. I had to share one with Jean last year.”

I bet Jean would have loved that…

It was a running joke amongst the men about when they had to share sleeping quarters with the women, and how they’d lie on the very edge, all limbs tucked in and never once touching them for fear of a testosterone-induced erection.

“Yeah, but I’m a big guy.” He lied, not once being concerned about that at all. “Get over yourself.” You chuckle, nudging him playfully as you returned to what you were doing.

Reiner solemnly obeyed and began to set up the tent, his frown pulling at his face the entire time. He will not get any sleep – being so close to… you. Alone… Miles away from anyone. After you'd kissed. He swallowed hard as he fumbled with the poles, wanting to be out of this situation. Reiner Braun was desperately in love with you and he was supposed to be keeping away. If you kiss again, he’s a total goner. There would be no way he could reject you if you reciprocated his feelings, even in the slightest. Luckily, the kiss had been interrupted so he didn’t know how you truly felt. He thought that if he never knew, it’s a problem he would never have to face. His fingers clumsily began to fix things together; you already had the fire going and preparing dinner. His eyes almost began to water at the thought that he was about to get your famous, amazing cooking. Sasha had been furious he was paired with you. His chest tightened and his head became fuzzy. He wished he didn’t have to be in such a complicated situation; he would just ask you to marry him already.

“You need help?” your voice called over after he dropped the pole fixtures for the third time. “Huh? Uh, no I got it.” He wavered a hand dismissively without turning around.

What the hell am I going to do? He panics in silence.

Eventually, the sun had set and the tent was erected, the two of you sitting by the fire after you'd eaten. The warm orange glow of the flames encased the two of you cosily, as Reiner sat back and patted his stomach in awe.

“Amazing. As always.” He smiled. “Thank you.” “I’m glad you liked it.” You beamed beautifully.

Surrounded by the trees under the stars and being embraced by the warm glow of the flames; You now began to feel weird about the intimate moment you'd had. It wasn’t very often you had time alone and your feelings for him remained the same since. The pair of you sat back, gazing up at the stars in comfortable silence.

“It feels like we haven’t stargazed in forever,” You commented quietly. “I bet Marco is looking at them now too.”

“Yeah, he will be.” Reiner marvelled.

Another silence.

He noticed you had been pretty quiet since you began relaxing by the fire. You were wondering why he hadn’t mentioned the kiss. He’d had plenty of time now. Maybe he regrets it? You bite your lip at the thought, eyes lowering to the flames sadly. God, he’d grown on you a hell of a lot and you resented that fact. It hurt to think he didn’t feel the same. Reiner noticed this.

Shit, she looks sad. Is it because he hadn’t mentioned the kiss?

Should he ask? There’s no way he would ever stand for you feeling down, let alone because of him.

What the hell should I do?!

His brain hurt. More so, his heart. You flinch a little in surprise when he slowly crept his hand across the ground and intentionally skimmed his skin across your fingers. He didn’t look at you though. It was his way of sending an impossible telepathic message of; Don’t be sad. I can’t say it but God, I love you. You, however, assumed it was an accident.

Ah hell. I’m going to have to mention it. I can’t see her feeling down.

He took a deep breath.

“You alright? You look a little down.” His usual façade of serious, concerned solider coming out.

“Oh? I’m fine.” You lied.

He knew you were lying. He knew you too well.

“It looks like it’s going to rain though.” You noticed the thick clouds that were rolling in, beginning to block the view of the stars. “We should get some sleep.” “R-right.” Reiner nodded, deflated. He didn’t know what he expected. His heart, body and soul ached for your lips against his again, but his mind screamed to stop being an idiot. As you go inside to get ready for bed, he stood and began to snuff out the flames of the fire, along with any hope he’d had of being with the woman he was so desperately in love with.

Sure enough, as you lay facing away from one another, the sounds of soft pattering began to tap the tent above your heads. You lay back-to-back with as big of a gap between you as possible; what the small tent would allow anyway. Reiner’s arms were tucked up around his chest and his eyes were wide. You had your limbs tucked away too but that was for a different reason – as always when you camped out, you were freezing. It didn’t matter the season. As soon as that sun sank below the horizon, your body temperature would drop. Reiner on the other hand was like a big insulated heater, sleeping in just his underwear under his sleeping bag. His heart thudded harshly against his large chest.

She’s just there! Kiss her! Talk to her! Tell her how you feel…

He’d been close to telling you a few times over the course of the last month or so. He couldn’t help it. Even before you shared that kiss, his feelings would bubble up to the surface and almost spew out of his mouth. He’d always managed to stop himself though, although it was getting increasingly more difficult each time. You were just so… perfect. And he had to say something before Eren sinks his claws into you. It was evident how he felt about you, too. Heck, half the class had some sort of crush on you. Not only were you extremely attractive and half of his classmates wanted you, but you were strong. Smart. Funny. Caring… His eyes closed in a frown as he listed the endless attributes he loved about you in his head. He was fighting a losing battle, and he knew it.

Bertolt. Annie. Marcel. I’m sorry. I tried… I really did.

He glances back and that’s when he noticed you curled up in a ball, shivering. His eyebrows furrowed. “…You cold?” “Y-yeah.” He instantly turned onto his side to face you, his sleeping bag rustling against the fabric of the tent.

“You should have said something. ‘C mere.”

With a sigh, he sat up and began unzipping your sleeping bag. “What are you doing?” your teeth chatted. “Helping you warm up. I doubt you wanna get sick and miss training.” You averted your eyes away from him when he unzipped his bag and fastened them together into a double. You knew he slept in his shorts. Your breath catches in your throat as he wraps his big, strong arms around you and pulling you back against his warm chest; heat rolling off him and encasing you like a huge bear was holding you. His scent rolled off him and embraces your sense of smell, relaxing you immediately. He kept his pelvis away from you, his manhood already stirring awake and he didn’t want to make you feel uncomfortable.

“T-thank you.” She whispered, still trembling. “Don’t mention it.” He sighed, silently kicking himself.

I definitely won’t be getting any sleep now.

Your heart almost stops when his head rested and lay between your neck and shoulder, his hot breath blanketing your skin. Rushes of unexpected heat ran down your body to in-between your legs and seemed to just pool there. His brows furrowed behind you; inhaling the intoxicating scent of you silently. Although he was trying his hardest not to brush his hips against you, he still felt so comfortable having you in his arms like this, like you were supposed to be in them. He was meant to protect you. To care for you. To love you. His mind flutters back to how he’d almost told you he loved you before. He’d hinted so hard but you just looked at him like he was crazy, not understanding what he was trying to tell you. When he was around you, it was like all of his troubles just melted away. Colours seemed brighter, his worries were brushed aside and life was just… amazing. You made him laugh, he could tell you anything (almost) and you always knew what to say to make him feel better after a particularly rough day.

But to him, the best part of it all was how excited you got him for the future. One that was bleak and full of sorrow was spun upside down and into a promising one, brimming with all possibilities.

“I have something I need to tell you.” He said softly, not able to stop himself this time. Maybe it was being this close to you that sent him over the edge. Or maybe it made it easier that you were facing away from him.

“Hm?” you hummed softly; your eyes closed and enjoying the warm embrace.

“…I love you.” That was it. It was out. There was no way to suck those words back into his lungs.

The tense, pregnant silence within the tent was only filled by the light tapping of the rain against the material that covered you both. He felt you tense in surprise, eyes flying open. You swivelled around to face him, eyes searching his narrow golden orbs for any sign of deception. But there wasn’t any. A crimson flush washed over his cheeks.

“I… I mean, you know –” he began before you silence him by pressing your lips against his. Both of your eyebrows pulled back as if pleading above closed eyes, his hand cupping your face, thrilled to be kissing you once more.

You pull away, your own pink hue colouring your face. “You… Love me?” you ask, voice soft and sweet.

He pressed his head against hers, closing his eyes and nodding. “ y/n, I’m crazy about you.” He whispered in honesty. “I always have been.” “…How crazy?” you teased, trying to tear away any awkwardness or negative feelings in his confession. He smirked. You know just how to make him comfortable. He grinned slyly, looking in your eyes. “Oh, absolutely insane. I should be getting carted away to the asylum, with Sasha and her potatoes behind me.” You laugh beautifully, heart swelling with joy. Even that dumb little exchange, confirmed to you that you definitely felt the same.

“So, you don’t regret that kiss…?”

“Of course not.” He replied, eyes returning to a desperate pleading. “I was just having a hard time accepting that I’ve come to cadets to be a soldier and…. Ended up meeting the woman I wanna marry.”

Every word that left his lips felt like a warm pleasant jab to your heart. “You… Wanna marry me?” you whisper, totally blown away by the intensity of this confession. “I do.” He admitted shyly. “You don’t deserve anything less. It’s just how I feel… Sorry” “You know…” you whisper shyly. “It’s more efficient to share body heat when you’re both naked.” His eyes enlarged and his breath caught in his throat, causing him to cough. You let out a cute giggle. “That’s if… You’d want to.” You added adorably. “Are you sure?” he whispered, praying you would say yes. You nod in reply. “I want you, Reiner.” You breathe. “I love you too. I want… you to make me yours. I want to be yours.”

Reiner was bombarded with emotion. Elation. Excitement. Arousal. Not to mention he was beginning to wonder if this were a dream. If he were going to cruelly wake up next to Bertolt and his weird sleeping positions. There’d been countless times he’s imagined you uttering those words in his head; sometimes while stroking his own cock. He’d lost count of how many times he’d furiously tugged himself while you occupied his mind. But as his feelings for you deepened, they became less and less so; guilt always creeping into his conscience. He just respects you too much.

He propped himself up on his elbow, running his now trembling fingers through your hair. “I don’t want to hurt you.” He breathes. “You won’t.” You shake your head. “I mean, it’s okay if you don’t want to, I under –” He put his arms under the sleeping bag with great speed and shuffled a little, before pulling his shorts out and throwing them to the side. You let out a laugh when he returned to his original position with haste. He returned your laugh.

“Okay…” You muttered shyly. “Look over there for a moment”

He turned around obediently as you begin to nervously undress under the now warm sleeping bag. All he could hear under the movement of you undressing yourself was his heart pounding in his head.

There’s no way this is real and happening.

His cock was already hard at the thought of you undressing inches away from him. His previous reservations about being teamed up with you quickly washed away as you threw your clothes to the side, before nestling back down and hiding under the cover.

“Alright… You can come back.” You inform him. At the speed of a firing bullet, he turned back around; painfully keeping his eyes glued to yours. His arm flinched, about to pull you back into his embrace but he hesitated. “Are… you sure?” He asked again, not able to believe the situation. “Yes.” you giggled, nervously. His arms snaked around you, his narrow orbs keeping their gaze on your eyes as he pulls your now naked form against his.

His eyes enlarged and jaw slackened when he feels your satin soft skin against his, bare breasts pressing against his hard chest and your lower stomach and groin against his solid erection. A gasp parts your lips as you feel, not only how hard he is, but how big.

“R-Reiner…” you couldn’t help but stammer, your face heating up as well as your insides. A pink hue raises over his cheeks, not having really thought through the situation.

He was nervous. He was excited. He was close to hyperventilating.

Your lips softly press against Reiner’s once more, fingers grazing across his scalp, your breathing heavy and needing. His arm snakes around your stomach, his brow pulled down and creased while his nose pushes out a blow of air, his heart hammering and his cock leaking with pre-cum. You could feel it weeping against your flesh as it throbbed and danced against your lower stomach.

You pull back for a moment; “Reiner. Only take me if you’re going to cherish me. This won’t be a one-time thing for me…”

He catches your gaze, lips parted and eyes still hungry. “Of course. I meant what I said.” You smile - elated at his words as you return your kiss, hands roaming his ridged, solid muscles. His mouth moves down to your neck, with slow and tender kisses - each one sending jolts of searing hot electricity through your entirety.

Reiner’s breath is deep; quivering and panting as he tries to hold back his eagerness and excitement.

“I’ve wanted you for so long…” He groans, his large palm pushing your arm above your head as he hovers over you a little, his fingers interlocking with your own, still kissing you deeply.

The pink hue across his face was deepening to more of a crimson, his eyes heavy-lidded and jaw slack the entire time. The way he kisses you is with such compassion, such tenderness. He grazes his large nose against yours, hands caressing your hair as he keeps himself steady over you, before gingerly rolling on top of you completely, keeping himself suspended with his forearms. He made sure every single graze, every grope was as gentle as possible - afraid of his lumbering huge form would somehow break you as you explore one another’s bodies, tongues entwining in a slow dance within your mouths. Deep, short groans vibrated his throat and chest from time to time, and not once did that furrowed look of desperation leave his face.

The only sounds that could be heard were the kisses, whines and groans as well as your laboured breath and the pattering of rain against the tent. He suddenly stops the kiss, placing his head against yours and rubbing his large thumb across your cheek, back and forth.

“I’m happy to just do this.” He breathes, wanting to prove to you that he really was just so happy you felt the same. “We don’t have to do anything else.” “I want to…” You reply, the snake coiled within wrapped far too tightly to be ignored now. “I want you to make me yours. Really, make me yours…"

He nods - returning his kiss, his top lip folding as his lusted haze results in him missing his mark slightly. God, it was hard for him not to touch you between her legs. But he’s a gentleman. He didn’t want to unless he knew one hundred per cent that you were sure.

Taking his fingertips, he nervously and slowly grazes them down your stomach to your pubic bone, pausing before taking a leap of courage - his calloused pads grazing down your clitoris and to your soaked lips. You both gasp at the sensation. The feeling of his warm, large fingers against your most intimate area was indescribable. And for him, your thick slick was heavenly.

“Is this all for me…?” He whispers in awe and disbelief, his shoulder flexing with his movements as he continues to slowly stroke you. You nod, biting your lip. He swallows hard, eyes closing for a moment before returning to yours. “It’s my first time. I won’t last long.” “I don’t care.” You groan, pulling him by his head for another deep kiss.

As much as he wanted to enter you, he refused to allow himself yet. Instead, his lips trail down your body, your eyes locked onto his broad back, flexing with every tiny movement as his head moved, his lips connecting with every inch of skin it could find - his hands gently rubbing and massaging - memorising every single gasp from your mouth. Every hitch of breath. He would remember where he’d been when you'd made those noises and made sure he damn well took it all in. His kisses remained so gentle, so tender…

He lets out a gasp as his hot breath caresses your skin - it was satin soft and felt better than he'd ever imagined. “Reiner…" You breathe involuntarily, fingers running through your own hair. A groan vibrated his entirety hearing you say his name in such a way. Your tone, desperate. Wanting him. Needing him. All things he'd day-dreamed about for two whole years. And it was actually happening. He felt like the luckiest man in the world. He was going to savour this moment. He leans back with shaking breaths, his fingertips gently grabbing your calf and lifting up your leg, his eyes not leaving yours as he grazes his lips down your inner thigh. Before you knew it, your back was arched in such wonderful pleasure as he leans down and encases his mouth over your bloom.

You watch the muscles in his shoulders and back flex under his skin as he slowly and sensually makes out with your slit, placing your leg up over his shoulder. "Ah~~" You melodically sing, eyes clasping shut. He grunts into you, the vibration of his vocals only adding to how good it all felt.

He tries to ignore his aching cock, now so hard it was dancing in rhythm of his pulse, begging for some friction as he watched the love of his life bare and vulnerable in the most beautiful way for him.

His tongue pin-points your bundle of nerves and he begins to flick it and roll his warm, wet muscle against it.

The deep cherry hue across your cheeks darkened further as he relentlessly invades your most sensitive spot.

How can this feel so good…? Your legs began to shake and you try your best to stifle your moans, biting down on your finger.

Reiner continues, slowly massaging the insides of your legs as he works you, his brows still furrowed and desperate, eyes now closed as he drinks in the moment. Something primal was taking over him and it was all so new. This was his woman. He'd die for you. He was made to protect you, make you happy and feel good. He whimpers into you, unable to handle all of these feelings and emotions.

He begins to rock his head up and down, his mind flashing of how jealous every single one of his friends would be if they knew. But he wasn't going to tell them. This moment was sacred to him. Your fingers run through his hair as it felt as though you were being pushed higher and higher.

"R-reiner…" You whimper as you reach realms of pleasure you didn't even think were possible. He picks up his pace thinking about how he hopes and prays you would use him for all of your needs in the future. If you're ever feeling fired up, he'd be more than happy to just have you ride his face into bliss and nothing else.

The golden moment approaches as he relentlessly keeps flicking his tongue until you go higher and higher and… Your legs tense and begin to shake, eyes close as you rides your huge orgasm through heavens gate.

Shit… Reiner thinks, totally now boarderlining into feral territory of arousal, having his love come undone into his mouth.

He slows to a stop when he feels your legs relaxing, his mouth not stopping and trailing kisses hungrily back up to your stomach, breast, neck and lips.

"You're so perfect." He whispers heavy lidded between kisses and burying his head into your neck. "I love you. God, I love you…"

Tears pricked both sets of eyes at how heightened and intense everything was.

"Make me yours…" You whisper back before nipping his earlobe with your teeth. He instantly returns to your face, cupping it and his muscular back hunches - his free hand grabbing the large base of his shaft.

“You ready for me, baby?” He breathes. You nod. He lines up his gleaming, pulsing head before pushing gently, your tiny entrance being invaded by him as he hisses, your finger returning to your teeth to stifle how amazing you feel.

He pushes harder. “ Y-y/n…" He whimpers, totally overwhelmed both with physical stimulation and emotion.

He gently removes your hand from your mouth. "Don't try to be quiet… I want to hear you. I want to hear how good I can make you feel…" He pushes again, a little firmer, his head popping in past the first hurdle. You cry out in surprise, pleasure and a little bit of pain.

“You okay?” He asks, sounding like he’s just finished sprinting a whole cross-country race. He paws your head gently. “Yeah…” He pushes again, your tight insides slowly ingesting him like a snake with a large meal - your ridges massaging him as they spasm with glee around him - his moans now a lot louder than before, as he jitters to a stop at the hilt.

“Fuck…” His tone sounds like he’s about to burst into tears as he slowly starts to pull out and slide back in again.

He's always tried his best not to curse around you, but this time it just poured out of him from how good it all felt. It felt like he had to fight the urge to burst into tears of joy just from how amazing it all felt. Encased snuggly, deeply inside of the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

The full feeling of Reiner Braun was better than ecstasy, his girth pushing and stretching you, his cock bending up slightly at the tip, already pushing against your g-spot as he trembles above you. With each slow thrust, your pleasure being pushed to an impossible new high, your nails sinking into his large back as you clung onto him for dear life - tears pooling at the corners of your orbs from how amazing it all felt. Like the only two people in the world were you and him, souls connected and swirling around the cosmos in the eternal dance of lovers.

His fat head that curved up slightly kept hitting a spot you didn't even know you had, making each slow drag of his king cock feel even better. The full feeling of him was beautiful, his short pubic hair also friction against your previously licked sweet spot.

Reiner didn't know what to do - it was all too much but in a good way. He'd never felt such pleasure like it and his hands roam your body; breasts, ass, hips, legs, face… he's spoilt for choice.

He pushed himself right in and stopped, his heavy breathing steaming up the air as he presses his forehead against yours. Your tunnel spasmed and clenched around him, massaging and milking him with strength.

"Urgh…" He groaned loudly as he feels your insides gripping him and trying to pull him in further. "S-so beautiful…" He runs his fingers through your hair gazing into your eyes. He pulls back and thrusts, this time more firmly. Your breasts bounced and eyes closed, your lips parting.

"Look at me…" He husks.

Your eyes open and lock onto his in a haze.

"I want you to keep looking at me…" he swallows hard as he painfully slowly drags himself out, before pushing in again.

"Ah ~ ! Reiner ! I can't take it, it's too good…" You beg, not really knowing exactly what you're begging for.

"Let me do this…" he pulls out slowly. "Whenever you need me to… please…" He thrusts harder.

"Ah ~!" His hand gently takes your chin. "Promise me you'll let me fuck you forever."

Thrust.

"Yes! Yes! Reiner, I - I'm going to…"

“Oh, baby…” He groans, eyes rolling as he plunges a little faster. “Me too. It feels so - n’urgh. So good…”

“Reiner!” You sob hysterically as you snap, coming undone around him as your legs tremble and head throws back. As you unravel around him, your name leaves his lips over and over and over again, each time louder than the last, as his thick and large cum shot explodes inside of you, his atomic detonation causing mass devastation as his legs quiver and eyes cross.

He leaves himself buried inside of you as he catches his breath, desperate whimpers escaping his vocal chords as he plants frantic kisses against your neck and cheek.

You stare into the void, the violent after shocks of your orgasm sending shivers throughout your entire body, the spasms of your insides squeezing and releasing Reiner's slowly softening dick.

"That was... amazing..." You hear him from somewhere below you as you're still floating in the clouds of satisfied haze. "I - I told you I wouldn't last long."

You silence him by running your fingers through his hair.

It didn't matter.

You were together now and nothing was going to take this high away from you.

[trashcanfanfics]

Can you please write a oneshot about Alastor after he had a fight with reader, and he clearly was the one in the wrong. What does he do to make it up? Does he realize it himself or does someone like Rosie or someone from the hotel have to point it out to him. Does he feel guilty? Did he make reader cry? Sorry if this is too much or too sad.

What a way to rise from the dead

He doesn't know what happened, really. One second he was telling jokes and you were laughing, the next you were in a heated argument. Something about him trying to push a punchline that you thought was hurtful and him disagreeing heavily. The argument was brief and he just didn't close his damned mouth fast enough.

"Perhaps you should learn to just take a joke, my dear. Wouldn't want to become a flat tire, now, would we?" His ever present smile held more condescension than he'd ever directed towards you before. your fists shook at your sides and you glared at him with all the rage and heartbreak you felt.

"I need space." And with that, you'd turned on your heel and left the hotel entirely. Alastor shrugged it off and sat down at the concierge-slash-bar to enjoy a drink.

It had been hours since then and Alastor hadn't made any moves to try to find you or remedy the situation. He did notice that his drinks have all tasted sour. At some point he knew he was going to have to face you again. The feeling in his stomach was curious but he was sure it's because of the amount of giggle water in his system.

"God, has anyone seen that asshole?" A certain feminine spider came down the stairs. "I've got a thing in thirty minutes and they still have my fuckin' glue." Angel rounded the pillar and looked at Alastor, tipsy, and squinted.

"They haven't been here most the day." Husk was grumpily cleaning a glass. "Why don't you text 'em?" Angel flopped halfway on the bar and half on a stool, a little too close for Alastor's liking. He decided that he was too sloshed to care much. The spider sighed and rolled his eyes.

"I tried that!" All four of his arms raised up in exasperation. "They ain't answerin'! I sent three already! Ugh, I'm gonna have to go to the store!" Two sets of arms crossed to show his annoyance. Alastor paused at this. It wasn't like you not to answer after the second text. Were you injured? Had you gotten lost? Was someone else bothering you right now? Was someone...entertaining you? More than he did? He couldn't bare it and stood abruptly, only to stumble slightly. The Radio Demon regained his footing and rushed into the shadows, leaving behind the two sinners. He'd ignored Angel's snicker at his less than stable start and focused more on finding your energy. It was harder in this state but he was determined.

You were sitting in a secluded garden of blood red roses near the more peaceful part of Cannibal Colony. It had been a few hours since you left and you keep going over how Alastor insinuated you were boring for not wanting to be the butt of a joke. It hurt you and made you angry at him for trying to turn it back on you. You'd spent too much of your life hearing other people tell you that you're "too sensitive" or "need to take a joke". You won't tolerate it in death and especially not from your boyfriend.

A loud thump ripped you from your thoughts. You looked in the direction of the noise and see Alastor, halfway in a rosebush. He hardly took notice as his eyes met yours. His smile almost looked strained and his eyes glassy.

"Darling! There you are!" He stumbled out of the bush, pants ripped enough to almost see his leg. He rushed to your side and tripped, falling to his knees. You looked down at him as he grasped your legs and looked up at you, slightly dazed.

"Are...Are you drunk?" His smile lifted at your voice and he sighed dreamily up at you. "Oh my god." He tried to get up again but his foot caught a rock and he slipped back down. You stumbled a little as he grasped your legs tighter during this.

"Dar-darling, where have you been? It's been hours!" He looked back up at you. "I missed you! Can we get home?" You couldn't believe what you were seeing. Alastor, The Radio Demon, was drunk and on his knees in front of you. A small part of you felt powerful like this, but you quickly tucked it away. You sighed.

"Yeah, let's get you home." You reached down and helped him to his feet. He leaned on you as you both made your way out of the garden. "I can't believe you're out in public like this." He giggled, actually giggled, in response and sighed as he leaned more on you.

"Mwen sonje ou ba ou dabitid mwen." You were sure that was a language but it was slightly slurred from his lips. With no other ideas, you pat his back and continued on. He took a deep breath and then disappeared into the shadows. You stopped and looked around.

"Alastor? What the fuck?" You groaned in annoyance. "Alastor!" You trudged back towards the hotel in a huff. He was going to have so much apologizing to do tomorrow.

Alastor, however, had face planted right into his bed. He rolled over and looked around. His room in the hotel was spinning and he couldn't see his darling, dearest, sweetest love anywhere. Had he not brought them with him? Did they go away again? His smile wobbled and his vision grew blurry. Was he not what they wanted? Hasn't he always provided for them? Did they not like his cooking? Or his jokes? Oh. Oh that was why. The joke from earlier. Tears dripped down his face. Oh no.

You made your way into the hotel and up the first flight of steps before heading for the elevator. Angel's voice called to you from halfway down the hall.

"Where's my fuckin' glue!" The only response he got was a quick "on my dresser" before the elevator doors shut. You tapped your foot impatiently. If he wasn't here you were going to scream. Idly, you wondered if he was even drunk and just trying to get you to interact with him. He didn't like going too long without talking to you unless it was his choice, and even then it wouldn't be more than two hours max. You'd gone nearly five before he found you.

The end of the hallway on the fourth floor was usually dark due to the fixture breaking about a year back and no one fixing it. It was the way Alastor liked it. "Easier to get a good spook in and deter those who bother me", he'd say. It never really bothered you, oddly enough. Especially now, since you could hear the muffled sniffles of your lover. You knocked on the door.

"Alastor? Im coming in!" You only got halfway in the door before you were yanked into the room and the door slammed shut. Tight arms wrapped around you and held you close to a heaving chest.

"I thought you left again! I'm sorry! For my cooking! For not giving you enough! For my jokes!" He sobbed. You blinked. Just how drunk was he? You weren't sure this was the same Alastor that would rip someone's face off, roast it, feed it back to them, and then laugh as they cried.

"Well, one of those is correct." You brought you hands up and pushed him back before tugging him to the bed. "Let's just get you to go to sleep, okay, we can talk more in the morning." God, he was a mess. Tears made his eyes redder than they were, his face was splotchy and snot was dripping out of his nose.

"But!" You didn't let him finish as you pulled back the covers and pushed him into bed. "Darling! I'm sorry!" You rolled your eyes and positioned him on his side before tucking him in.

"Okay, tell me about it tomorrow." You gently fixed his hair and kissed his forehead. His eyes closed and he hummed low. It wasn't long before his breathing became even and he was snoring slightly.

The next morning you opened your eyes to see Alastor, fit as a fiddle, staring down at you with a tray of breakfast foods in his hands. You screamed in surprise and sighed heavily after recognizing your boyfriend. Sitting up, you yawn.

"Good morning, Darling! I made you breakfast!" He set the tray down over your legs and smiled wider. You looked up at his with an eyebrow raised.

"If you think that I'm just gonna forget what happened yesterday, you're wrong." Your sentence made him droop a little.

"I'm sorry, for the joke and whatever else I did yesterday." He clicks his fingers together slightly. "I...Don't remember much." You snorted at that.

"I guess you wouldn't, but i guess...I forgive you. Just don't make any jokes like that again." You looked at the tray, which had huge servings of your favorite breakfast foods. "Now, are you going to help me eat this or not?" He eagerly jumped into the bed and beside you, making you giggle.

[wolfish-nightmares]

Canis Lupus

Parings: will graham x victim!reader

Era: Season 1

Warnings: gore, violence, bad language, cannibalism, 18+

Category: Fluff. Angst. 

Word Count: 3.4k

Summary: When the FBI discovers an underground fighting ring, it's far beyond anything they ever expected and Will befriends a rather unusual victim. 

A Violent Dog Masterlist

The body they found was mangled and shredded. It was obvious a dump too, the body had literally been thrown away in a bag. The most confusing thing about the body was that the wounds looked like they had been caused by an animal. 

“So if it was an animal attack why ditch the body? Why not just call 9-1-1?” 

“Because it wasn't an animal attack,” Jimmy pointed to bite marks. “We tested the saliva around the bites and the DNA is human.” 

Jack frowned as they showed him the paper. It was obviously human DNA but the brutalization and marking on the body looked so animalistic. 

“We think they had their teeth filed,” Brian chimed in. 

Jack didn't say anything, instead he just left. He was on his way to Will so the others just continued on gathering and processing evidence. When Jack left like that, everyone knew where he was going. 

You snarled and barked at the dummy in front of you. The owners said that people were complaining on the last live stream, they wanted you to be more violent. Through the years the views have requested more carnage but these past few months it seemed like their desire for blood was insatiable. Usually you'd only have to fight three or four days out of the week but the owners have been having you fight nearly everyday. Your body ached at the thought. 

“Wolf! Come get your bandage changed!” 

Quickly you left the training room and went to the medical room. While the viewers wanted violence from you they also wanted to see your own pain. If you leave the fight with no wounds you are punished afterwards. And if the viewers enjoyed the fights, they craved the punishments. Mr. Owner gestured to the table and you laid down as he gathered his supplies. 

“Latest stream got nearly 900,000 views. You've gotten popular Wolf,” he peeled off your bandages and checked the stitching. “You popped a few stitches so we'll get that fixed. I'll also need you to help with Lion’s punishment. She did poorly in her fight last night, the viewers were extremely upset.” 

You shivered at the thought but simply nodded. Anytime the owners requested your assistance in a punishment that meant one less fighter. You clenched your teeth as he began to fix the stitches and tried your best not to think about it. 

“Alright, two days off, we gotta save your energy for your birthday fight,” he grinned and patted your head. “This is the big one, ten years with us already. I knew you'd be our prized fighter.” 

He wrapped fresh bandages and continued to check you over to make sure you were healing properly. When he deemed you fit, he sent you off back to the kennels. 

“Hi honey,” Mrs. Owner greeted you when you got back to the kennels. “Your blanket was put in the kennel but because your views were so high we decided to give you a pillow too.” 

“Bitch.”

You stiffened at the sound of Bear's annoyed grunt. The happy look on Mrs. Owner's face twisted into her usual malicious look. She stood and you flinched as her chair fell back. She pointed to your kennel and you darted to the door. You could feel the anger radiating from her as she unlocked the door and let you in. 

Just as she said a dingy yellow pillow and your blanket were laid out on the concrete. She locked you back up and walked off, most likely to punish Bear. He was newer, brought in only a month ago, and he fought back just like all the others. The biggest rule here was the only noise you were ever allowed to make was only that of your animal. 

Because do lions, bears or wolves talk? No, so you shouldn't either. 

The owners wanted complete silence and if you didn't comply willingly, they'd make you silent. You glanced over at Dog, he was one of the few who were silenced. Everyone in the kennels that night heard the way he gagged on his own blood as they cut out his tongue, his screams turned into gurgling. Silencing wasn't something that happened often but the look in Mrs. Owner's eyes told you that Bear was going to become another on that very short list. 

You curled up in the corner and used your pillow to muffle the sounds. Screams and cries were the most normal sound here but sometimes they could get to you. Bear’s pleas and wails broke through the thin cotton barrier and you squeezed your eyes shut. 

Eventually you were able to slip away to your safe place in your head and drift of to sleep as you lived in freedom in your dreams. There you lived in warmth and strength. Even in your dreams there was blood but it only felt like power, never pain. 

When you opened your eyes again it was already dinner time. Mr. Owner dropped the bowl in front of you and you didn't even sit up. When he had finished putting out all the food you then began to eat. The dinner was warm, warm food was a luxury that had to be won in the ring. You scarfed it down, it was a bit watery than usual but that's usually what happened when they heated it up. Besides that you never really minded the food, you prefer it over nothing. 

Since you were cleared for two days nobody disturbed you as they prepared for the night’s fights. Instead you curled up in your blanket and lived in your imagination. The screams of the fights seeped into your dreams but they were never your screams. 

The next day you didn't get the same luxury, Mr. Owner wanted you to help him out in the medical room. You give Bear an apologetic look as Mr. Owner checked the stitching on his tongue. Bear returned your look with a glare of hatred. 

Mr. Owner seemed to notice because he rubbed your arm in what seemed to be a comforting way. It kind of just made the hair on your neck stand up instead. He sent Bear off and you spent the rest of the evening cleaning and organizing the medical supplies. 

It was true that out of all the animals in the kennels you were given the most freedom. Not like going outside or doing what you want freedom but they don't make you sit in the kennel all day. You were the only one that they allowed to help them with anything.

The whispers about your special treatment wasn't something you had no idea about. In fact, your first few years in the kennels, the others were cruel to you. Their anger always showed in the ring, the moment you were paired with another animal it was going to be a bloody fight.

“Come on Wolf, bed time.” 

You slid the box of bandages back onto to the shelf and followed Mrs. Owner. This was your last night of peace, tomorrow you will be prepared and you will fight that night. It would be your special birthday fight and also the hardest. 

“I think we found what we're looking for,” Beverly pulled up a website as she explained it to Jack and Will. “It's like a fighting ring with animals but they're all humans. Look.” 

She played the video, the screen displayed the empty pool, the “ring”, with you and Bobcat standing at opposite ends. You snarled and barked from your end while he screamed and yowled. A loud whistle sounded and you both took off towards each other. 

The team was shocked at the ferociousness of the fight. You and Bobcat ripped and tore at each other with your hands and teeth. Beverly paused the frame right as you were aiming for Bobcat's throat. Your face was smeared in blood and when she zoomed in they could see how your teeth were sharpened. Beverly played the video again and they watched as you bit into his throat and ripped your head back, tearing his throat open. You didn't spit out the hunk of flesh you had in your mouth, instead you ate it like a starved animal as he bled out. 

“This is Wolf,” she pointed to you. “The ring’s most popular fighter and they've been fighting since they were eight years old.” 

She switched the video to another, the quality of this one was a bit more granier but there you were standing in the pool, much smaller than before. You looked much more scared than the first video. Another person was standing in the middle, chained to the drain with a knife in their hand. 

“This ring doesn't just make the “animals” fight themselves, they also fight other humans who they seem to just pull off the street,” Jimmy pitched in. 

“It's kind of like bait dogs that get used in dog fights except these are people and they have knives,” Beverly added.

The video continued and you were far less confident than before. You bit the girl's arm and she screamed as she wildly waved the knife. It caught you in the face and you let out a bloodcurdling scream as it sliced across your face, leaving a large diagonal gash. 

Will’s heart squeezed as they watched you desperately attempt to do something but the amount of blood left you blinded and stumbling around. The woman however saw this as a time to save herself and began to stab at you. She continued to swing that knife at you and cut open even more of your skin. You screamed so loud the sound cut in and out. 

“Okay we can stop,” Jack’s voice cut through your howls of pain. “I've seen enough.” 

Beverly cut the video, “That continues for about half an hour, with way more blood but eventually Wolf does kill the woman. This started Wolf's fame on the ring. They're the most popular of all the fighters and that's because of how bloody their fights usually get.” 

She pulled up screenshots of the comments praising you for the way you fight, even some sickeningly demanding more blood and wounds on you as punishment for not being cruel enough. She then cut to another screenshot of a fight this time it wasn't a random person in the pool but the victim lying in their morgue. 

“This fight was streamed three days ago and here is our victim. This whole place is being run by a couple whose screen name is just "Owners," they're never shown on camera."

“So have we figured out how to find this place,” Jack asked. “And how often do they do these fights?” 

This time Brian stepped in, “We found trace evidence on the body and we think we have a good idea of where this place is. Fights are streamed nightly.” 

He passed Jack aerial pictures of an abandoned indoor pool. Jack just just pulled out his phone and began dialing. He called a S.W.A.T. team and instructed the others to get ready to move. They had to stop the ring tonight. 

Your belly was full, so full it hurt, something that hasn't happened since you first got there. The owners had surprised you with a cake. They threw the entire thing onto the floor of your kennel then stood and watched to make sure they ate the entire thing, even making sure you licked up all the icing. You didn't mind at all, the sugary sweetness was by far the best thing you've ever tasted. 

Cake was not something the owners ever gave. So of course you didn't miss the pissed looks the others threw your way as you ate the cake. Dog on the other hand give you a look of pity. Out of all the animals, you and Dog had been there the longest. He knew the dark side of your special treatment. 

“Alright, let's get you ready for your fight.” Mr. Owner gave you a sick grin as he crouched down to gently stroke your face. Something in his expression twisted and suddenly he gripped your throat. “This time you get to prove just how good of a fighter you truly are.” 

He dragged you out, still holding you by your throat. They usually weren't this aggressive before the fights so you were completely shocked. You struggled to keep up with him but he didn't slow down. Instead he harshly slapped you across the face every time you stumbled. 

You yelped when he suddenly shoved you into the empty pool, thankfully not in the deep end but the drop still knocked the wind out of you. He jumped down and snapped a collar around your throat as you fought to get air. Eventually once you were able to breathe evenly again you realized they had hooked you chain they used for the prey fights. Mrs. Owner threw a knife at your feet and you gave them a confused look. She said nothing and simply adjusted the camera. 

Mr. Owner left for the kennels again and you wondered what they were doing. Your heart dropped as he walked back with Bear, Lion, and Dog following behind him. Bear gave you a sick grin and Lion shot you a sneer. Dog's shoulders racked with quiet sobs as he was led down the steps and you began to fight against the chain, howling for mercy. 

“Today you will not only prove your loyalty but you will also be proving your true strength.” 

The whistle sounded and Bear and Lion raced towards you. There was time for you to wonder why they had done this, if you didn't move, if you didn't fight, they would surely kill you in seconds. You scrambled to grab the knife as Lion tackled you. She dug her teeth into your shoulder as you stabbed her in the side. She screamed in pain and you swung the knife at her face. The blade sliced through her check, splitting the side of her face open. You pushed her off to stand up but Bear kicked you back down.

He grabbed your arm and twisted it, breaking the bones with a sickening snap. You screamed and bit into his shoulder. Once you had a good enough grip you ripped your head back, tearing the flesh away. He stumbled back with a scream but you didn't waste any time and lunged for his throat. If you didn't end this, he would.

The blood sprayed out and covered your face. For a moment you were blinded and Bear wildly swiped at you before he collapsed. You let out a low growl, wiped the blood out your eyes and turned back towards Lion. She was laying on the ground, still clutching her face. The blood pool around her body told you that she was already dead and Bear was getting there, his blood was beginning to seep towards your feet. All there was left was Dog. You spun to find him, you didn’t want to kill him but every animal in the kennel knew the rules. If you got put in a fight you fought, or you were simply put down. Dog never broke that rule and neither did you.

A sharp pain broke through your back and Dog spun you around to pull you into a hug. The knife that had been once discarded was now buried in your back. You looked up and noticed that he turned so you faced the camera, giving the audience a perfect view of you. He held you close to him, gently humming as he rubbed your back, you screamed when he suddenly turned the knife and forced it in deeper. When he pulled the knife out, you kicked his leg and used the momentum of him falling to knock the knife out his hand and spin him around so the back of his head was against your stomach. He clawed at your arms and kicked as you grabbed his chin and put your broken hand on top of his head. You stared into the camera as you jerked his head back hard, snapping his neck. His body collapsed at your feet but you never took your eyes off the camera. 

Just as the owners began to celebrate the sound of breaking glass interrupted them and smoke began to fill the room. You gagged and choked as the smoke reached your nose. Fear replaced the anger and you fought to get out of the collar. The smoke became thick and you couldn't breathe properly. The room began to spin as you clawed at your throat and you collapsed to the ground. You fought to keep your eyes open until you couldn't anymore. 

Will sat in the chair across from your bed. You had just gotten out of surgery, the fight had left a lot of deep wounds and a broken arm. The FBI had taken everyone in and was able to reach out to all the families of the victims who had been reported missing. Most of everyone who was in the kennel got to go back to their families. 

You on the other hand had no living family that they could track down. Nobody was there to claim you, shout your real name and pull you into a hug. Will was sad for you knowing that with no family and you no longer being a minor, you'd probably end up in a homeless shelter or a halfway house. 

Sitting there he could see the full extent of the past fights. The most noticeable scar was the one that cut from the middle of your left eyebrow, down diagonal across your nose and ended at your jaw. The video flashed through his mind and for a moment his ears were ringing with your screams. The nurse came in to check your vitals again, pulling Will away from his thoughts. She was only there for a moment before rushing off.

He noticed the way your eyes began to twitch and scooted his chair closer to your bed. It took awhile but eventually you opened your eyes. You looked around the room in confusion and when you finally noticed him, he smiled.

“Hi, Wolf?” 

You nodded and tried to sit up but he stopped you. There was something hard and bulky on your arm. The burning in your eyes was still there but it wasn't as bad. The tube in your other arm was uncomfortable but when you tried to pull it out he stopped you again.

“You're in the hospital,” he placed his hand over yours and you looked back up at him. “The people running the ring confessed to everything. You won't be in any trouble.” 

Despite that being good news, it really meant that you lost everything. The only thing you had now was this hospital gown and the streets, if they even let you keep the gown. You sighed and turned your head away from him. He probably didn't even understand. 

“I know you don't have any place to go. I'm sorry but I'll see what we can do.” 

You didn't say anything and continued to look away from him. After a while he rubbed your shoulder and left the room. No more kennel meant no more anything so you decided your only option now was to sleep.

Apparently his idea of seeing what he can do was letting you stay with him. You gave him a confused face when he came to tell you his idea. For a moment Will was frozen as the image of Winston came to mind as you tilted your head in confusion. He realized he really couldn’t leave you to the state’s hand. With no better options you agreed and he promised helped you get let go from the hospital.

The hospital had some donated clothes that they provided you with and Will left to give you time to change. There were a few clothes you didn't understand and the nurse had to explain to you how underwear and socks worked. In the kennel everyone wore shorts and a shirt, nothing else and you only got new ones when your old ones got too cut up to wear.

"Do you understand?"

You nodded and she left so you could get dressed. Everything felt odd on your body but you finished dressing and sat in the room for Will. There were lots of commotion in the hall at some point but you just stayed put on the bed. It seemed like forever but Will did come back.

"Sorry I took so long, your discharge papers are ready," he held the door open for you and you left the room without a second thought.

You had to sign something and when they sat the paper down you looked over to Will for help. Not only did you not know how to write, you didn't know how to read either. And all this "hospital" stuff was confusing you.

He seemed to understand and asked the nurses for a plain paper, “We did find your real name would you-” 

You shook your head before he could finish, you didn't want another name. Wolf was your name. He nodded and wrote something down on the paper. 

“You’ll need a last name too. You could use your-” 

Again you cut him off with another shake of your head. That wasn't your name. You pointed to him and he gave you a confused look. Again you pointed to him then tapped the paper. 

“You want my last name,” you nearly laughed at the shocked look on his face but you just shrugged. You had no better ideas and you didn't understand why this last name thing was so important. He grinned and shook his head before writing something down on the paper. “This is how you spell Wolf and this is my last name Graham.” 

He let you practice how to write it and explained that he'd be willing to help you learn how to read. You nodded your head as you concentrated on how to draw the letters the same way. Eventually it looked good enough and you signed the paper. Will smiled and handed the paper over to the nurse. 

“There, Wolf Graham.”

[snowsinterlude]

"lust at first bite."

(coriolanus snow x f. reader)

summary: a love with a hunger for flesh, a love that doesn't know any type of kindness except for it's hunger, it's much better than a love full of fragility. (repost)

c.w: heavy implications to cannibalism, drinking blood, biting, consuming eachother as a way to show love, intimacy. obsessive, possessive relationship, toxic relationship, there is eroticism in the act of drinking your loved one blood, mentions of sex, reader is very much despicted as a vampire, mentions to murder and cannibalizing a human heart

"i want to taste your thoughts and your blood. i want to wrap your brain on my finger and eat it. i want to rip your heart out of your ribcage and drink out of the hole i did on you."

chapter one: a vampire's lovebite.

you were coriolanus leech. his favorite vampire. the eroticism of your teeth sinking into his flesh during sex was enough to get him laughing with the horrible pain on his skin, on his flesh.

every oportunity you had to suck his blood, cut his skin, taste his flesh, you would be drowning in it. you loved him so much it was only necessary to show it- even if through bites.

fucking wasn't enough. kissing wasn't enough. holding hands would never be enough for you. you could feel your gums itching to sink your teeth on his white skin. you wanted to make a mess out of him, you wanted to taste him up.

"my love," you called, your stiletto red nails passing through his skin. you wanted to stab him with them. he didn't bother opening his eyes to look at you. he already knew what you were thinking.

"yes, dove." he pronounced himself, his nails scratching on your skin as your shivered with such a perverted, intimate act.

"can i taste you?" he frowned at your question.

"you already did it. we actually just did it." he joked. and you laughed, your pretty canines shining at the light of the light bulb.

"not like that, baby." you said, taking matters into your own hands as you got closer to him, your hands on his neck as you brushed your thumbs on his adam's apple. you wanted to choke him. he would look so pretty. "i want to taste your blood."

"i don't see why not." his answer made you light up immediatly, your sharp teethed smile making his heart flutter too.

that was the first bite you gave him.

chapter two: hunger for a queen.

coriolanus hand found your waist quickly, taking you away from festus with a smile. the proximity of that brat on his favorite vampire was terribly audacious. how dared he get closer to the thing he loved most? didn't he knew what could happen to him?

"my dove," he called, kissing the birthmark on your neck with a smile. "i was searching for you everywhere." he said, thumb caressing your waist kindly. he looked at festus with a soft smile, greeting him with a bow if his head as you two walked away.

he waited patiently for that fucking party to end. he hated seeing you around other men. if it was up to him, he'd happily govern panem from the inside of his study room, sending orders while fucking your throat.

"why the fuck were you so close to that fucker?" he growled, pinning you against the sink of your shared bathroom.

"which one?"

"all of them, but especially festus." he said, looking into your eyes with hunger shining on them.

"my love, you know you're panem's president right now. i can't risk your place on the government. you know that being panem's first lady i have to stick up to people. i have to hear what they have to say about you and say that you're better than those rumours." you said, teeth grazing on his neck.

"what rumours?" he asked, letting you brush your teeth on his pale neck.

"you know, those saying you are a terrible person who killed a random number of people to be where you are right now." you sucked on his skin.

"those are not rumours." he grabbed your throat, pushing you to look at him, and you did, smirking at him. "and you know it."

"of course i do. but they don't need to know about it now, do they?" you answered, and he growled, slapping you face, not hard enough for it to hurt, but enough for it to be a blushing mark on your cheek.

"you should know better than to be up there on those galas getting all intimate with those men." he said, sinking his teeth on you

hungrily, angrily.

it was the first bite he gave you.

chapter three: why don't you eat me now? you can.

day after day, your relationship with your husband was perfect.

for you two, at least. any of the maids that worked with you two agreed that your relationship with him was, to say the least, odd.

the moans on your shared bedroom at night seemed happy. the rough fucking session you both had almost on a daily, weekly basis seemed to make you both very happy.

the scratching on his back was almost crimson red. the bite marks and hickeys on your shoulders and neck were almost purple. that was the strange part. it made your maids think you were suffering some kind of domestic violence.

now, you were on top of him, riding him, your hands travelling up his neck as you finally choked him, his hands gripping on your waist so tightly that the crescent marks of his nails would probably never leave your body.

his eyes welling up, your teeth biting your bottom lip, his cock throbbing inside you.

you both wanted to eat one another.

to consume your heart, bit by bit, would be the perfect taste for him.

and to twirl his brain on a fork and eat it, enjoy it, feel the taste of his thoughts on your tongue, would be perfect for you.

and both of you didn't need to say anything, only the thoughts of consuming one another through rough bites was enough to make you both reach for your climax.

you kissed him dearly, biting his bottom lip hard enough to drain blood out of it, which you drank and felt perfectly healthy with doing so.

god knew what he was doing when he put you both together.

chapter four and last: lust for a vampyr.

smiling, you placed a silver plate in front of him on the bed.

"what is the occasion?" he asked, kissing your shoulder.

"nothing, dear." you said, taking the bell looking thing off the plate you gave him, a heart being encountered in it. "i just seemed to bump accidentaly on the woman who flirt with you last week."

he smiled, kissing your temple and laughing. "you're so jealous, bat." he said, pulling you to his lap. "god may know what to do with those poor girl's soul." he said, purring on the curvature of your neck.

"i'm just taking care of what's mine." you answered, mewling into his kisses as you pushed the platter aside.

"don't even need to. i'm attached to you, darling. i can't want nor desire anything that is not your blood or your flesh." he said, kissing your mouth in such a lewd kiss.

"don't flirt with those girls, then." you said, pouting and kissing his forehead.

"never would do that. not when i have you. best of wives and best of women." he said, sucking kindly on your neck.

you both were made for eachother. your violent vampiristic wish to drink his blood every morning matched with his grotesque cannibalism wish to devour you.

you were a match made in heaven. god blessed your relationship knowing it while he planned on giving that girl's heart to a mutt.

he wanted you. fuck those capitol girls. he had you. that was enough to get him going.

he sank his teeth on your neck at the same time you did to him, a sign of how you both needed and loved eachother. a love with hunger and strong by lust is better than a love with kindness and weak by warmth.

[pascaloverx]

BORN TO DIE

Summary: In a tense political setting, a Targaryen bastard working as a prostitute is summoned by Prince Aemond to the Red Keep. Aemond wants her to approach his dragon, Vhagar, as a test of her worth. Although he plans for her to claim another dragon in the future, her immediate challenge is to survive Prince Aemond demands while trying to stay alive.

Author’s Note: This work is set in the world created by George R.R. Martin, as depicted in his book Fire & Blood, and none of the characters belong to me. The story will follow some events from the series House of the Dragon (2022), but with changes to fit the fanfiction narrative. Therefore, it will not adhere strictly to the series' storyline. This fanfiction is a work of fiction and may contain inappropriate language, adult content, and violence. Readers be warned. I hope you enjoy the story and interact with it. I apologize if there are any errors in the High Valyrian sections; I used a translator and am unsure of its accuracy. Thank you and happy reading.

Warning: This chapter will contain violence, as well as inappropriate language and adult sexual content. Minors should not read or interact with this chapter or this fanfic.

SIX

SEVEN (+18)

Your return to the Dragonpit was slow, for there was no reason to hasten. You knew the grim task that awaited: to report that you attacked a girl and her dragon, that you let Cannibal feast upon the younger dragon, and that you had no idea what had become of the girl. The dragon keepers had nearly no trouble leading Cannibal away. A hearty meal and a hunt with his rider had turned your once-rebellious dragon into something almost obedient. Lost in your own thoughts, you barely register the burning sensation on your cheek before your body collapses to the ground. All eyes are on you. Cannibal, who was being led inside, roars and begins making his way toward you, despite the dragon keepers desperate attempts to restrain him.

Standing before you is Queen Alicent, her hand still raised from the strike, her expression visibly shaken. She trembles, her anger and nerves barely contained. But when she turns to face your dragon, you see a flash of fear cross her face, a rare moment of vulnerability. Her eyes meet Cannibal's fiery gaze, and in that instant, it is clear that even she dreads what might happen next.

“Daor, Cannibal. Lykirī!” you command as you rise to your feet, a part of you wishing that Cannibal would not obey, while another part fears what might unfold if he does not calm down. Cannibal roars once more, his fiery breath rattling the air in front of Queen Alicent, but after a tense moment, he retreats. The dragonkeepers lead him away, still growling in displeasure. Now standing, you feel the weight of Queen Alicent's gaze upon you, her composure shaken, her nerves clearly rattled. Her eyes, wide with lingering fear and fury, fix upon you as though she is both questioning and condemning your very existence.

"How dare you attack the daughter of Prince Daemon Targaryen without the Crown’s permission? How can you, a bastard whore, think you could kill a dragon and walk away unscathed?" Queen Alicent hisses, stepping closer as her hand grips your cheeks firmly, her fingers digging into your skin. It hurts, but for some reason, you find her indignation amusing, the absurdity of her words almost laughable. Her outrage is palpable, but you can feel the cracks in her composure as she tightens her hold, as though she’s trying to assert control over a situation that has already slipped far from her grasp.

"My Queen, are you perhaps forgetting that we are at war? As a humble servant, in the name of the King, your son, I took the liberty of eliminating a dragon that might have attacked his army. If I have offended in doing so, I humbly ask for your forgiveness. Surely, my ignorance got the better of me." You manage to utter those words with difficulty, her grip tightening as her nails dig into your skin. Just when the pain grows unbearable and you are on the verge of tears, Prince Aemond and King Aegon II approach. Their presence fills the place, and you sense that whatever happens next will depend on their judgment.

"Prostitute, back again; what a fortune. Your desperate attempt to prove your worth seems to have worked. Continue slaying the dragons on my sister's side, and I shall reward you for it. Mother, what are you doing?" King Aegon II speaks as though he has casually stumbled upon you and his mother. His demeanor starkly contrasts with the man who previously commanded you to kill his brother, revealing a shift in his attitude. His gaze flickers between you and Queen Alicent, assessing the tension in the air. There is a mixture of intrigue and amusement in his expression, as if he relishes the drama unfolding before him.

"I want her dead. She is a danger to all of us; she could have killed Baela. Can you imagine Daemon's fury if his daughter were dead?" Queen Alicent appears stressed at the mere thought of such a scenario. Finally, she releases your face, though her anxiety remains palpable.

King Aegon II looks confused, as if struggling to understand his mother’s escalating emotions. "Mother, we are at war. Shouldn’t we focus on our enemies rather than turning on one another?" he counters, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice. Prince Aemond remains silent, observing the exchange with predatory intensity, his eyes sharp and calculating as he waits for the perfect moment to intervene.

"She is not one of us. She is a wretched girl taking advantage of your foolishness. She will be your downfall. Get rid of her before she causes more trouble!" Queen Alicent nearly shouts, her words aimed at her son, though it feels like a warning directed at both the king and Prince Aemond. Aegon’s expression tightens as his mother’s voice rises, but he remains silent for a moment, clearly contemplating her words. His gaze flickers to you, then to Prince Aemond. The prince, however, stands motionless, his icy eyes scanning his mother with a calculating gaze, as if weighing her outburst, silently judging her.

"In war, are we to concern ourselves with the thoughts of our enemies? Is that what you suggest the King should do, Mother?" Prince Aemond speaks sharply, his tone cold and cutting. "Would it then be wiser to hand over the crown to the mother of bastards and take our own lives thereafter? While your perspective is ever-excellent, Mother, I suggest you focus on the fact that there is now one less dragon to trouble us." His words carry a disdainful edge, as though he’s weary of this conversation, and the sharpness in his voice reflects his growing impatience.

Queen Alicent casts a look of utter disdain, as though you were the most insignificant creature in her presence, but she spares no further words, departing the Dragonpit in a fit of anger. "We should be celebrating another of my victories. And next time, whore, see to it that both the rider and the dragon are dealt with," King Aegon II speaks with careless ease, his tone revealing the effects of drink, oblivious to the palpable tension between you and his brother.

You find your mind drifting toward Baela, wondering if she has shared the secret you revealed to her. The uncertainty gnaws at you as you choose your next words carefully, speaking with measured deference. "Your Grace, Your Highness, I beg that you pardon any missteps I may have made. With your permission, I shall now take my leave." Your exhaustion is apparent, and you can feel the weight of the day’s events bearing down on you, desperate to escape the prospect of further violence or worse, some unspeakable encounter that may await under the whims of both King and Prince. You are nearing the brink of your endurance.

"Unfortunately, whore, my brother has requested that you be punished for your insolence. He assures me that, as your… companion, he knows precisely how to mete out a fitting reprimand. I suggest you comply; I cannot afford to lose any of my dragons," King Aegon II slurs, the drink having stripped his words of any elegance or restraint. With a pointed glance, Prince Aemond signals to one of the king’s guards to escort his brother away, a faint relief gracing his face as they lead the king from the hall.

You stand, silent, observing it all as if awaiting your final judgment. Before you can even steel yourself, Prince Aemond seizes your arm, his grip unyielding, and pulls you roughly down the corridor, heedless of the pain flaring in your feet as you stumble along, nor the bruising force of his hand wrapped firmly around you. He drags you with the same remorseless resolve, his silent fury palpable, until you reach the door to his quarters.

As he thrusts you into his quarters, the realization settles heavily—you are at his mercy. "You are reckless, gundjabo. Can you not comprehend how insignificant you are in the grand scheme of the King’s plans?" His voice is laced with disdain as he steps closer. "I wonder if the rumors hold any truth, that you are truly a bastard of my father. It seems unlikely that he would sire such… rot." Prince Aemond's words drip with disgust, which only stirs a faint laugh from your lips. You stand still, watching him as he locks the door, turning to face you with a penetrating glare. The silence between you hums with unspoken tension, and in his eyes, a tempest brews—something between loathing and intrigue.

"Your Highness, do not be a fool. Surely such a rumor is baseless; the late King Viserys was known to sire children of… vision. Anyone with a good pair of eyes could recognize there is no chance of me being his bastard," you respond with irony, letting the words hang with intended sharpness, aware that Aemond’s single eye studies you intently. Death no longer frightens you; in truth, part of you wishes Aemond would simply end it, freeing Cannibal to lay waste to the Red Keep. With grim purpose, the prince draws his dagger, its tip pressing against your chest, his gaze cold and taut with contained fury.

“Repeat those words, and I shall punish you with death, insolent creature,” Aemond murmurs, stepping closer, the dagger’s tip nearly grazing your skin, a faint sting beginning to burn. Yet, you stare back defiantly, daring him.

“Kill me, Your Highness,” you command, voice calm and steady, as though fear has already abandoned you. This time, it is the prince who laughs—a cold, amused sound, as though your defiance both vexes and fascinates him. You feel the blade press down, its edge trailing lightly against your skin. Closing your eyes, you steel yourself, bracing for what could indeed be your final moment. So when Prince Aemond rips your dress open, using the dagger, you let out an almost frustrated sigh. He rips the top off with the sharp tip of the dagger, then holds your waist firmly, pulling you towards him.

“I shall not kill you on your terms, gundjabo,” he murmurs near your ear, his words sending a shiver down your spine. His fingers then slide to your back, deftly undoing the ties that hold your dress in place. Your gaze remains fixed on his, unyielding, as you watch him intently, reading every flicker in his piercing eye.

“Then what will you do with me, Your Highness?” you ask, blinking perhaps a touch too long, your voice carrying an almost imperceptible tremor. The Prince’s gaze sharpens, his satisfaction evident as he revels in the effect he has over you, a hint of devilish amusement curving his lips. He then gives a drawn-out sigh, then rips what's left of your clothing off your body. Your body is completely at his mercy as he moves around you.

“I shall punish you…” Prince Aemond murmurs slowly, his words hot against your ear before his teeth graze it, causing a prickle of discomfort. "Lie down on the bed, I want your buttocks exposed and raised so I can enjoy them," Prince Aemond commands. He seems impatient, so you immediately resolve to accept your fate. Slowly, you move to Prince Aemond's bed and lies down on it, sticking your ass out. He then approaches the bed, coming towards you. His cold fingers go straight to your pussy making its way to your ass, his cold hand holds your pussy tightly. He slaps your pussy which is already sensitive just from his mere touch. Your body arches as you feel the slight burning in your intimate area. You let out a whimper, biting your lips to keep from screaming.

"Do not restrain your noises, they are also part of my amusement and your punishment," Prince Aemond says as he gives your pussy another slap. This time as soon as you let out a grunt, he took his hand off your pussy, he held your waist higher, raising your ass. Before you could question what was happening, he slapped your ass. The slap itself took you by surprise but it was less painful than you would have imagined it would be. In reality, it was turning you on more than it was hurting you. Suddenly he turned you over in bed, grabbing your thighs with his hands and pulling you closer to his body. Your eyes met, you looking at Aemond's face while his eye seemed to be fixed on your naked body. His face moves down, meeting your right breast as he runs his fingers over your left breast. His lips begin to suck on the nipple of your right breast, as he gives slight pinching on the nipple of your left breast. He sucked on your breasts as if he needed them to feed himself. His mouth was fierce, making you even more excited, feeling your pussy get wet with the sensations he was giving you. Then, between your moans, he switched breasts, grabbing with his mouth your left breast with the same insatiable strength. From the proximity you could feel Aemond's cock getting hard, while he seemed focused on sucking your breast. Using your legs, you pull Prince Aemond closer to you and begin using your hands to gently massage his cock beneath his pants.

"Tell me, Prince Aemond, what makes you so hard, the feeling of having me in your hands or the possibility of fucking your bastard sister?" Maybe it's the Targaryen blood that runs through your veins that makes you say such risky things, but you suddenly felt the need to provoke the Prince Aemond. Your hand then massages his cock, while you wait for his reprisal.

"You're mistaken if you think I would ever consider using the word sister for a bastard. What turns me on is knowing that you belong to me, more than you belong to yourself. Your breasts are mine, your pussy is mine and everything you think about doing with them shall be mine." Aemond lifts his head, stopping sucking on your breast and looking directly into your eyes. He then takes your hand, licks your fingers while watching you with his one eye and then puts your hand in his pants. Without breaking eye contact, you hold his hard cock in your hand, moving your hand back and forth. The Prince's eye closes at the sensation of your hand touching and stimulating him. He lets out a "hmm..." in your ear as he presses his head into your shoulder, while you feel his cock getting harder and harder. Your hand continuing to masturbate Prince Aemond's cock until he seems unable to take it anymore, letting out a moan. He cums in your hand seconds later. He immediately pulls away and takes off his pants, looking at you like a piece of meat. Your eyes go straight to his cock, which despite being less hard and slightly covered in Aemond's cum looks extremely appetizing for you. Prince Aemond takes your hand with his cum-stained fingers and licks each finger slowly. This surprises you positively as you feel the need to have him inside you growing. As soon as he finishes licking your fingers, you grab his ass with your fingers, going towards his cock with your mouth. Your hands gripping Aemond's ass, as you suck his cock slowly, as if you want him to go crazy. Your tongue tasting Aemond's cum while his cock still seems hard enough. He holds your hair, wrapping his fingers around it, helping you with the movements. You're savoring every inch of Aemond's cock as you suck him slowly. You hear his drawn-out moans, and by the way he helps you with your movements, he is thirsty for you to suck him faster. His cock is fully hard as you grip his ass tightly, digging your nails into it. You run your tongue over the tip of his cock, hearing him moan softly. You suck him faster, feeling his cock scrape against the back of your throat. You dig your nails deeper into his ass, watching him let out a soft roar like a dragon. Then you feel him cum inside your mouth, while holding your hair and turning your face towards him, as if he wanted to make sure you looked at him as he felt his cum fill your mouth. You swallow his cum, while looking at him, almost exploding with lust.

“I beg you not to test my limits; I have not yet had my time with you, gundjabo. Take my side from now on, and forget all else.” His voice wavers slightly, betraying a rare weariness beneath his words. With a sudden, fierce movement, he throws you onto the bed, his strength and intensity unyielding even in his fatigue.

"I will be your servant gladly, ñuhā dārilaros," you speak as you feel Prince Aemond come towards you, taking your lips. His tongue tasting every corner of your mouth, as if he wanted to taste himself. His hands cupping your face like he wants to take possession of you. Then Aemond's hands move down your body, stopping at the entrance to your wet pussy. Aemond's fingers slide inside you, putting two fingers inside you as if he wanted to bury himself in your pussy. He looks impatient, almost like he's going crazy, as he thrusts one more finger in your pussy. You let out a gasp, feeling him move in and out of you more frantically. Then he stops putting his fingers in you, and moves his mouth down to the entrance of your pussy. His rough, cold tongue passes over the entrance of your pussy, while he holds your on your thighs firmly. Then his tongue enters inside you, exploring you as if you were delicious. You feel like you're going to cum at any moment as Prince Aemond sucks you off with desire. His lips gazing at your pussy, his tongue licking your clit as he massages your pussy with his fingers. You hold his hair tightly as you moan loudly, almost crying with pleasure as you feel like you're going to cum in Prince Aemond's mouth. He nibbles on your pussy and then licks you slowly for one last time, before you cum in his mouth. You are surprised when he licks you, as if he is tasting you.

"Your Grace, King Aegon urgently requests your presence!" a servant calls out, nearly frantic as she knocks fervently upon Prince Aemond's chamber door, her voice laced with unmistakable urgency. You and Prince Aemond unfortunately end up being interrupted, he gives a frustrated groan.

“What does my brother want now?” Prince Aemond mutters, his voice laced with irritation as he remains close to you, clearly unwilling to end the moment. His expression darkens with the disruption, his gaze intense as he hovers, unwilling to pull away.

The servant, her voice quivering, calls through the door, “Something regarding the Small Council, Your Highness. I would urge you to go to the King at once.” The unease in her tone seems to finally convince him of the urgency, and he exhales sharply, reluctantly withdrawing. With a measured look, he rises and begins to ready himself.

You watch him, observing the simmering impatience and frustration beneath his composed exterior. "Prepare yourself to serve me loyally for the entirety of your time here," Prince Aemond commands, his face mere inches from yours. "And do not even consider riding Cannibal or acting rashly." He brings his lips to yours in a brief, forceful kiss, his hands gripping your cheeks tightly. It’s as much a warning as it is a demand—a silent assertion of his desire to have you at his side, obedient and unwavering.

As his lips leave yours, a shiver runs down your spine, the intensity of his grip lingering on your skin. His gaze remains locked on you, both possessive and calculated, ensuring his words have settled deeply. "Remember, I will not tolerate disobedience," he murmurs, his tone dark and resolute. "You will remain close, loyal, and entirely mine."

With that, he releases your face, allowing his hand to trail down in a final, possessive gesture before he pulls away. He casts a final look over his shoulder as he strides from the room, leaving a charged silence in his wake. The weight of his command lingers, binding you to him, even in his absence.

You lie naked in Prince Aemond's bed, contemplating his parting words, which felt less like a simple farewell and more like a warning of what was to come—a warning that something would soon test your loyalty to him. Perhaps he only seeks to assert his hold over you. Given your prior relationship with his brother Aegon, the intimate moments you shared, and the fact that you’ve shown no true allegiance to either brother, his suspicion makes sense.

Imagine if the grand King Viserys’s son knew he had handed his bastard sister a dragon and a path to her objective. If any legitimate son had ever suspected a bastard of manipulating him to bring ruin to his life. Yet, you know you’d never have summoned this courage if that son of your father hadn’t ordered your mother’s death. But your revenge is coming. Viserys’s sons will pay for their wrongs. Finally, you decide to use Aemond’s bath to cleanse yourself. He’s been gone for a while, and the solitude is beginning to bore you. Not to mention, his mood might not be the most pleasant when he returns.

Afterward, you slip quietly to the kitchen, searching for something to eat. Arriving there, you find chaos; servants are hurrying back and forth, murmuring secrets. You feel relieved for a moment, as your torn clothing goes unnoticed amidst the commotion. Too exhausted to care about any of it, you grab a piece of bread and a bit of wine, slipping quietly out of the kitchen.But as you walk the corridors of the Red Keep, a force suddenly pulls you into a dark room.

"Come quickly, Y/N. There is no time—we are, in fact, out of time. The one who rides the great beast will soon arrive. Listen to me carefully. You will find yourself caught between the one who burns and the scorched. Do not take sides hastily. Your vengeance will not be fulfilled if you act impulsively. One will be starved for affection—if you claim to bear his seed, he will be in your grasp. The other is blinded by the illusion of power; let him believe he possesses you. When the time is ripe, make your way to the fiery monster’s stone, for there you will find your chance." Queen Helaena speaks in a hurried, almost breathless way, as if unable to keep up with the words pouring from her mouth. She moves slowly from side to side, holding what appears to be a child's toy in her hands. You reach out to take her hands, attempting to soothe her, and she flinches, like a frightened animal, but then pulls you closer.

"My Queen, calm yourself. If I may offer counsel, it is to focus on your husband. The Seven Kingdoms need the two of you to conceive an heir—this will ensure your security." After all, Helaena, though Viserys's daughter, seems untouched by her father’s corruption. If she were to bear a child with King Aegon II, perhaps he might abandon the notion of impregnating you. Reflecting further, Helaena’s words seem to hint at your predicament with the King—something about pretending to carry his seed.

"Do not be foolish, sister. The fire within Aegon has just been extinguished. There will be no heirs coming from him. Aemond has ensured that. Speaking of which, I have brought this garment for you to wear. Prepare yourself for when the new regency arrives, and hold on tight. May death accompany us." The Queen Helaena speaks with such conviction as she hands you the clothing. She gives you the garment and a toy that resembles a dragon before leaving the room, leaving you in a state of confusion.

GLOSSARY

Gundjabo - Prostitute

Ñuha Dārilaros - My Prince

Lyrirī - Calm down

Daor - Not

[theamberfist]

Leave it All on the Dance Floor! Part 2 | Alastor x Overlord! Reader

Platonic! Alastor + Best Friend! Reader who's also an overlord.

Description: After having his coat ripped, Alastor enlists the help of his best friend and tailor.

(Notes: CW Alastor, mentions of cannibalism) (Part 2/5 of Leave it All on the Dance Floor!)

Words: 2508

Part 1

"That new fabric order you wanted just got in, boss!" Joan chirped as she entered your work room; a clipboard in hand. Hearing that made you smile and you looked up from where you'd been drawing out concepts for some new clothes.

"Wonderful!" You exclaimed, "I know you know where to store it for now. I'll get to work on adding that to the new line later." Joan nodded as she crossed the item off her well-organized list. "And how are the newbies doing down there?" You asked, referring to the recently-hired demons currently being trained to work the boutique while you focused on designing. 

You'd hoped they wouldn't end up causing much trouble when you took them in; needing the extra employees, but Joan's expression immediately made you lower your hopes. 

"They're...Working on it." She replied finally, "But don't worry; I've been dealing with all the customer complaints the way you told me to. We'll get those sinners up to par soon enough, and then you'll be back to having the most well-run boutique in hell!" 

At that, you sighed. You were just glad to have Joan to deal with them so you wouldn't have to; after all, you'd been very busy lately. 

"Are you still designing the new line?" the feline asked with a hint of concern in her voice. You'd been working on it for the last week almost nonstop, and you knew she was probably a little worried about you. Still, she knew better than to comment about it openly. 

"Yes," you replied, setting the drawings on your desk now, "But I should have some solid concepts soon." Joan was still frowning but you ignored her worry as you leaned back in your chair and stretched. You'd been at this all day so you had to admit; it might be a good time to take a short break. 

"I'm sure these new designs will be even more lovely than your last ones," you assistant finally spoke as she took another step forward, "But...Uh, there's one other item that could use your attention right now." At that, you raised an eyebrow. 

"Oh? What is it?" You asked. Based on her nervous expression, you weren't sure you wanted to hear the answer. 

She drew in a breath before glancing back down at her clipboard. "We have a client here who requires repairs on some of their clothes." 

"I thought I said I wasn't going to be taking any clients this week?" You replied now, crossing your arms, "Can't one of the apprentices handle it?" 

"The client has insisted only your expertise will do," Joan told you, "And frankly, I don't think it's quite my place to refuse." She had a look of fear on her face at that that piqued your interest even more. Who could this client be to have scared even your own assistant so badly? You had a few ideas, and if they turned out to be true, then you almost wanted to smile in delight.

"Alright," you pretended to sigh now, knowing what was up, "Send them in and I'll handle it." Joan nodded quickly before heading over to the door of your workshop, which she opened to reveal a very familiar sinner standing on the other side with a huge smile on his face. 

"Why, thank you, my dear!" Alastor told Joan as he took a step into the room. She nodded quickly before leaving and closing the door behind her. Meanwhile, you grinned and stood from your desk. 

"Al, what brings you back here already?" You asked, though you couldn't have been more glad to see your best friend back in the Swing Sector visiting you, "Miss me already?" The Radio Demon's smile widened at that and he came over to pull you into a hug. 

"Lovely to see you too, my friend!" He exclaimed as you chuckled. "I'm afraid I've come to request your assistance mending some of my clothing, if it's not too much trouble!" You let go of your friend now, raising an eyebrow at his words. 

"Of course it's no trouble, but...Surely it's not these clothes you need repaired, right...?" You asked, a dark shadow beginning to form across your face, "After all, I just made this suit for you a couple of weeks ago." Your tone was calm but extremely threatening and despite being the Radio Demon himself, Alastor had to fight the urge to step back. When it came to the clothes you created, you could always be a little...murderous. He almost didn't want to continue with the look in your eye, but nevertheless, he did so.

"Unfortunately, it is," he replied carefully and with a solemn nod of his head. When he saw your expression darken even further though, he quickly continued. "But I assure you, dear, I did everything in my power to avoid letting any harm come to these clothes! This is the result of an...Unfortunate turn of events." 

"Who did it?" You asked in a tone so unlike you that it would have made anyone living in your sector shake with fear. 

"Alas, I do not remember his name; the forgettable sort." Alastor replied, glad to have shifted the blame off of himself now, "But I assure you, I plan to make him pay for his transgressions." His own expression became scarier now as his eyes began to shift into radio dials and glow red; even more so than normal.

"Give Joan a description of this demon on the way out," you ordered, "I'd also like to have a go at anyone who thinks they can damage my designs and get away with it." Alastor nodded at that, even if only to calm your rising anger. 

"Now," you said, taking a deep breath in order to pull yourself from your murderous rage, "Show me the damage." You turned back to grab a tape measure and some sewing pins as Alastor held up the end of his coat, which had been clearly been ripped. Of course, it always gave that appearance, but in this case, the tears weren't how you'd designed them, and therefore, gave a rattier appearance.

You felt your anger nearly flare up again at the sight but calmed yourself as you nodded and then got to work measuring and pinning wherever necessary. 

"Good thing I always keep your fabric on-hand," you spoke while holding one of the sewing pins between your teeth, "Otherwise, you'd have had to wait a few weeks for it to get in, and we certainly couldn't have you walking around like this for so long." The Radio Demon nodded, assuming the pose you always had him hold as he let you work.

You'd been his personal tailer ever since the two of you became friends shortly after your own arrival in hell. Before them, he'd had some random sinner off the street make all of his clothes, and as you'd told him the night you ran into each other at that party, it had showed. Luckily, he now had a best friend who was always willing to ensure he was well-dressed; making him a top priority whenever he came in. 

For a few minutes, you pinned the fabric in silence as he took in the sights of your workroom. It hadn't changed much in the years since he'd last visited; a realization that was somehow heartwarming. 

It was as messy as ever; with various designs lining the walls, fabric strewn about, and several trunks of other sewing supplies pushed up against the tall windows. Your desk was even worse with pins and needles all over it that had been entangled in string, and Alastor knew if he were to ever bring someone like Nifty here, she would have had a field day. 

Also resting on your desk, though, were several framed photos. There was one picturing you and Rosie, probably taken sometime after the Radio Demon's disappearance, along with several photos of your various owned souls that had been taken at the parties you hosted. Alastor's smile widened, though, when he noticed several old photos of you and him rested among the rest. Even after all this time, they were well-taken-care-of and free from dust or dirt. The sight was very sweet.

"Did I overhear that you were working on a new line?" He finally asked, breaking the silence as you threaded some red string through a needle like it was nothing. 

"Of course," you told him with a grin before kneeling to hand-sew the new fabric of his coat to the ripped area. "I have to stay up to date, don't I? And plus, runway season is coming up." 

"Well, then I hope to be in attendance at many of your upcoming fashion shows." Alastor told you and you nodded as you started stitching. 

"You'll be the first one invited, of course," you said with a playful eye roll, "Who better than my best friend to witness as I crush Velvette; fashionably?" This made the other overlord's smile widen even more.

"I have no doubt in your creative mind," he replied, "In fact, I daresay her own designs are nowhere near your level, so where's the competition in the first place?" He gave a loud laugh at that and you shook your head with a smile.

"Thanks, Alastor," You said as took out another sewing pin; not needing it anymore, "But it turns out there might actually be some competition this season. The Overlord Gala is being held a month earlier due to the next extermination being moved up- will you be attending, by the way?" You glance dup at your deer-like friend, who immediately nodded.

"But of course! I wouldn't miss such an entertaining event for the world," he replied, placing a hand where his heart should have been, "And I suppose I'll have to be requesting your services for my clothing then, as well." You nodded, turning back to your work. 

"Well, anyway," you continued, "The gala is supposed to be competitive as far as fashion this year, and I intend to have the best designs by a landslide. But that all starts with the line I'll be releasing shortly beforehand, so it has to be perfect." 

"Of course," Alastor nodded knowingly, "Do let me know if there is anything I can do to assist! Any endeavor that involves putting those arrogant V's in their place is worth supporting. Though, I hardly think you'll require my help schooling Velvette on the runway." You chuckled at that, finally finishing sewing Alastor's coat and tying it off.

"Thanks, Al." You told him now as you stood and brushed yourself off, "I always appreciate your support. And...Your coat is done!" You stepped away now, letting him inspect your work as you began putting away the rest of your materials. The Radio Demon took a second to look it over before his smile widened (somehow), seeming satisfied.

"Perfect as usual, my dear!" He told you as he gave a brief spin for emphasis. "Thank you kindly!" 

"Anytime." You replied once you'd put everything away, "Oh, and by the way, are you planning to attend that meeting next week? The one Carmilla sent information about?" A part of you was a little nervous he hadn't been invited for a second, considering the other overlord had never been particularly fond of Alastor, but then his eyes shone with recognition. 

"Yes, indeed!" He told you as the two of you started heading out of your workshop now, "Am I correct to assume you'll be there as well?" You nodded and his smile brightened, "Splendid! Then I shall see you at the meeting!" 

"Sounds good," you replied, "But before then, make sure you let Rosie know you're back! If you show up to the meeting with no warning she might bite you." You shivered, remembering the last time Alastor had done something to make the kind cannibal overlord angry. You hadn't had bandages on-hand at the time and had had to use whatever fabric you could find just to wrap his wound. 

"Of course, of course!" Alastor waved a hand dismissively, which told you he most likely would not be telling Rosie in advance. He always had liked to keep everyone guessing, hadn't he? "Now, I would love to stay longer, but I must be on my way, darling!" He headed over to the counter of your boutique, where one of your newer recruits immediately shrunk away in fear. "And I'd better let you get back to work if you're to show everyone up at the gala!" 

You grinned and made your way over to the register, but instead of punching in any amount, you simply leaned your elbows onto it with a smile. "Al, you know I wouldn't make you pay for a simple repair like this," you told him, "if anything, the one paying will be whichever demon ripped your coat in the first place." You were still smiling but your voice got significantly more sinister and your eyes darkened as you spoke the last sentence. The rest of the shop's employees cowered but Alastor just laughed. 

"A true gentleman pays his friend for their services, dear." He reminded you but as he spoke, his gaze shifted to the street outside, where a TV in the store across the street happened to be running Vox's broadcast. His smile didn't drop but you could instantly see the shift in his eyes from joy to annoyance at the sight. 

And you could understand why. It seemed Vox had caught wind of the fact that the Radio Demon was back, because he was going on and on about Alastor's return and what it meant for the future of hell. You supposed that obsession of his still hadn't died out. 

"On second thought, it seems I'll have to be on my way." Alastor practically spat before turning back to you with a joyful expression again, "But do let me know when you're next free, and I'll be sure to treat you to lunch as thanks for your kindness this fine day." You gave him a look so he added, "with vegetarian options, of course." Your grin widened.

Even though you were best friends with both Rosie and Alastor, two of hell's most well-known cannibal demons, you had no interest in partaking in said acts yourself and he could respect that. 

"Alright." You said finally as Alastor adjusted his bow tie once more and then turned towards the door. "Nice to see you again!" 

"Bye now, dear!" He called back, "Oh, and if you've got the time, consider tuning in to my next broadcast! It's sure to be quite...Entertaining." With that, he was out the door and you shook your head, still smiling. He was no doubt going to clap back at Vox by going on-air for the first time in years, and of course, you weren't about to miss that for anything. 

"Joan!" You called, heading back up the stairs to your workshop now, "Would you bring the radio up? I have a feeling this afternoon's work is going to get much more entertaining!"

……….

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

[thetomorrowshow]

Whumptober 7 - only for emergencies

title: in which gem is the only one with normal eyes

fandom: hermitcraft smp

cw: blood and injuries, mild gore, mild cannibalism (idk if it really counts as cannibalism tho...)

~

“Oh, we’ll be out of here pretty quick!” Scar declared confidently. “Xisuma won’t rest until he finds us.”

“And if he doesn’t?” Pearl questioned. Gem elbowed her.

Scar just waved her off. “If he doesn’t, then I have a back-up plan. But only for emergencies, I’m sure it’ll never come to that!”

They were stuck in here, in this concrete room, a sink and a bucket in the corner. The door was heavy and locked; the only comfort they had were three ragged blankets, which they had each dragged to separate spots in the room, marking their claim for somewhere to rest.

Gem had never been kidnapped before. Not officially, by someone who wasn’t a Hermit. But there was a first time for everything!

“I’m sorry, guys,” Pearl said after a long moment, the little feelers on her head twitching. “I shouldn’t have gone out in public with y’all.”

“Don’t say that,” Gem reprimanded, smacking Pearl on the arm.

“It wouldn’t have been the same without you!” insisted Scar.

“I just . . . if I hadn’t, then maybe—”

“Then we wouldn’t have gotten to go on this fun field trip!”

Scar grinned. “I love fun field trips. Don’t you, Pearl?”

Pearl rolled her eyes, but at least she was smiling. “Whatever.”

“My mom packed me cookies for this field trip,” Scar stage-whispered to Gem. “But I’m willing to trade.”

“My mom just gave me money to buy food.”

“Oh, that’s way better! Now my sandwich looks boring.”

“What kind of sandwich?”

“Classic peanut butter. But I’ve also—”

“I didn’t think I was kidnapped with children,” Pearl said drily. “Do you two mind?”

Scar grimaced. “I think we made the bus driver mad.”

“We? That was all—”

“I wish the torture would start, already.”

-

They came for Pearl a couple of hours later, by Gem’s watch.

They’d been out on the Hub for a game of lazer tag, of all things. It was supposed to be Gem, Pearl, and Impulse, but Impulse had dropped out last second, and Scar had happened to have a coupon to the lazer tag place, so the three of them went instead.

There was another group in the arena with them, college-age kids, and they all managed to have a good time together. They had seemed like nice kids.

Gem would never stop berating herself for not paying much attention to the way one of them kept staring at Pearl’s antennae. People noticed her—it wasn’t normal at all for an alien to be found on a public world. They usually kept to themselves, as far as Gem knew.

She’d never met one other than Pearl, at any rate, nor had she known anyone who had. In fact, many people didn’t believe they even existed. The Hermitcraft server was split on the issue, with certain people like Ren and Keralis sure of their existence, and others like Cleo and Mumbo fairly dubious.

Pearl had shown up near the beginning of Season 8, and that had put a definitive end to that casual debate.

Gem had honestly forgotten how uncommon aliens were. When you lived with one like Pearl for as long as she had, it became normal. When Pearl had asked about lazer tag, she hadn’t hesitated to find a place where they could go play. She hadn’t even thought about Pearl’s less common features.

“We should’ve seen this coming,” Gem said now, fiddling with the band of her watch. She’d noticed the way that kid was looking at Pearl, but she hadn’t thought anything of it. How could she have ignored it?

Scar shrugged. “Yeah. I forgot that aliens aren’t a thing.”

“Me too.”

“Are you keeping track of how long she’s gone?”

Gem nodded. “Forty minutes, now. How long do you think until Doc and Xisuma find us?”

“Well, they took us to another world,” Scar said contemplatively. “Last time someone got kidnapped, it was . . . Grian, I think? And that only lasted a couple of days, Xisuma tracked him down fast.”

“Do people get kidnapped a lot on Hermitcraft?”

“Usually one per season, at least! Didn’t you notice when I got kidnapped last season?”

“You—what?”

Scar waved nonchalantly. “Yes, yes, I missed a Boatem company meeting for it! I was gone for . . . a week? Maybe less.”

Now that he mentioned it, she did vaguely remember hearing that Scar spent an extended period of time off-world. She didn’t know that he’d been kidnapped, though.

“So it took Xisuma a week to find you?” she said, skipping over Scar’s kidnapping for now.

“Oh, no. Xisuma didn’t find me, I broke out. I mostly stuck around so long because I needed a vacation.”

“So . . . he might not find us within the week?”

“He will! He usually figures it out, at least.”

Gem groaned in frustration, buried her face in her knees. “I hope Pearl doesn't mind waiting.”

She was really trying not to think about Pearl, about what they might have been doing to her. Pearl was strong, that was for sure, but Gem had never seen her in a situation like this. Were they experimenting on her? Observing her?

There was surely some black market out there for aliens. Would it come to that? Were they just showing Pearl to potential buyers?

Were they hurting her?

She couldn’t let herself think about it. Hopefully, Pearl would be returned to them. It was silly to think she wouldn’t be—they were presumably using Gem and Scar as leverage to get Pearl to do what they wanted. As long as the two of them were still here and fine, Pearl was likely also still here somewhere, and not auctioned off to some highest bidder.

That was what was important. Pearl was here, and they were here, and Xisuma was going to get them out of there.

-

If Gem hadn’t been told, she probably wouldn’t have guessed that Pearl was an alien.

There were plenty of hybrids on Hermitcraft—avian, blaze, dog—, so Gem would have willingly believed that Pearl was some kind of bug hybrid. It wasn’t too far-fetched. She had antennae, and spines on her arms, she could crawl up walls.

The only thing that gave her pause was her eyes.

Pearl’s eyes reflected a galaxy. They spun with stars and planets and darkness, and Gem once spent all day comparing an image of their galaxy to the one in Pearl’s eyes and had found nothing similar in them. She wondered sometimes if the galaxy changed, if there was any way to map what her eyes displayed.

She wondered what Pearl saw.

Her eyes were the most beautiful things Gem had ever seen, and now, as she gently brushed Pearl’s hair back from her forehead, she wished she would open those eyes.

“Why are they keeping us around?” Scar murmured, tucking his blanket around Pearl. They only had the one thin blanket each, but Scar just buttoned up his shirt to protect against the cold.

“I don’t know, but I’m not complaining.”

Pearl groaned, shifted just slightly in Gem’s arms. “It’s because of me,” she said, not opening her eyes.

“Hm?”

“I get energy. From people. They want me to be . . . healthy.”

“Oh,” Scar said. “You’re an extrovert?”

Pearl snorted, finally opened her eyes. Yep, those stars still spun. “I draw energy from people,” she clarified. “It’s how I stay alive, being near others. They keep you here so that I can eat your delicious energy.”

“Yum,” Gem said.

“Yum yum,” Pearl confirmed. Her antennae wiggled. “I absorb it through my antennae.”

Pearl already looked a little healthier than she had when they first threw her back in the cell, and sure enough, Gem was feeling a bit sleepy.

She hadn’t looked too roughed-up, thankfully. A couple of bandages on her inner elbows and hands, a woozy look on her face. Just some tests run, probably. She’d been gone for about six hours.

But this was only the first day. What would happen tomorrow?

“Maybe we should break ourselves out,” Gem suggested. “It can’t be that hard, right? How many guards were there, Pearl?”

Pearl shrugged, her eyes slipping closed again.

Scar tugged on his sleeves. “We should wait,” he said. “I mean, Xisuma’s going to find us any day!”

Gem bit her tongue. She didn’t like to sit around and wait. She liked to get to the action, do things herself, make a push when others weren’t expecting it.

But Scar felt like they should wait, and they weren’t hurting Pearl too badly. It wouldn’t be the end of the world to wait.

Gem clenched her fist and just pulled Pearl closer.

-

“You know the drill, up against the wall.”

Every day, three people entered the room.

Scar and Gem would scoot to the back of the cell, sitting on the floor with their hands above their heads, pressed to the wall. One man would stand close to them, a stun gun trained on them. The other two would haul Pearl up by her arms and leave, the third backing up behind them. The third man always locked the door.

Gem could easily take out three men. No problem.

Every day, three people entered the room. Four went out.

This was the seventh day, and she was getting really sick of waiting.

“I’m gonna go for it tomorrow,” she told Scar. Scar shook his head rapidly, hiding a yawn.

“No—no, we should wait,” he insisted. “It’s only been a week, Xisuma’s—”

“You said to wait a week,” Gem countered. “I waited a week. Nobody’s found us.”

“We don’t have any weapons!”

“All of the guards have swords and stun guns. I’m GeminiSlay, I can take one down with my bare hands, then take his weapon!”

“I—look, I have a plan if it gets bad,” Scar said, wringing his hands. “But it isn’t bad, yet, and we just have to wait a little longer.”

Gem sighed. Sure, it wasn’t too bad so far, but Pearl was still suffering.

She now had dark bruises trailing up the insides of her arms, the evidence of many blood draws or IVs. Clinical stitched-up lines marked her arms and bare feet, and Gem was sure that she’d been cut open and stitched back up in more places than that, but she held her clothes closed (her shirt had been sliced down the back for easy removal) and shook her head whenever Gem asked if she wanted help with wounds.

She didn’t really talk much, not anymore. She just rested against their shoulders and slept. Gem and Scar usually fell asleep quickly, her drain on their energy pulling them down as well.

Maybe it wasn’t as bad as it could be, but it was still bad. They had spent days here, leaning on one another, their energy dwindling more and more as Pearl required more from them. They only got fed once a day, and the sink in the corner of the room provided water but there was nothing to drink with, and cupping their hands barely got anything.

Plus, Gem had a base to be building. She didn’t have weeks to spend locked up in here.

“I’m going to attack,” Gem decided. Scar grimaced, buried his face into his knees. “Tomorrow, when they come to get Pearl. If you want to help, you can.”

Scar didn’t respond.

So Gem just settled in with her singular blanket and started planning.

-

It went perfectly.

Until it didn’t.

Gem launched herself at the first guard through the door, wresting his stun gun from his grip. She turned it on him, holding down the trigger until he was writhing on the ground. Then she hit the following guard in the face with the hilt of the gun—and she aimed for the third one—

But it wasn’t right.

There wasn’t just a third guard.

A fourth guard followed in, then a fifth.

Coming straight for her.

Before Gem knew what was happening, she was down, electricity burning through her spasming body. She gasped—her vision went red, flashing, the only sound that echoed through her ears was a distant screaming—

Then it ended, and Gem took in a ragged breath, the world returning under layers of static.

“No more standing, for this one,” a too-loud voice growled. Gem wrenched open her eyes, looked up—

A blurry guard was holding a club over her leg—

He swung, landed with a deafening crack, and Gem screamed and screamed and screamed.

She couldn’t breathe past the pain for far too long. Long enough that black spots floated in front of her eyes, long enough that her chest strained with the lack of oxygen. She gritted her teeth hard enough that one of them gave under the strain, but after several swelling moments, she managed to draw in a breath.

“Okay, can you hear me? Gem, Gem, how many fingers am I holding up?”

She blinked several times, but couldn’t quite keep her eyes open. It hurt so much, sickening pulses spreading out from her left leg, and then it hurt even worse and fire flashed through her brain—

“It’s me, it’s okay, I’m just—I think it’s broken, and we should probably set it but I don’t know how to do that—can you look at me, Gem?”

“Hurts,” she managed, tears squeezing out of her closed eyes.

“I know, I know . . . oh, Gem, oh, this is bad—this is so bad—”

Gem swallowed, then finally forced her eyes open.

Scar was there, leaning over her, hands fluttering as he tried to decide what to do first. Eventually, he just kneeled beside her head, pulling her into his lap. Gem couldn’t restrain a small noise in the back of her throat as even that movement shifted her leg a tiny bit, but she leaned into Scar, desperate for any comfort that might help ease the pain. He wiped her forehead with his sleeve, brushing back strands of hair.

“Oh, geez. I’m sorry, Gem. This is pretty bad, huh? I’ve got you, don’t worry.”

“I’m worrying,” she choked out. Scar chuckled nervously.

“Yeah. Yeah, me too.”

-

Gem slept most of that day, but by the evening, she was more-or-less conscious and able to think through the pain. Her leg was definitely broken, but they didn’t dare set it, not without a doctor present.

She and Scar didn’t talk. Scar sat in the back corner and picked at his nails, glancing around anxiously every once in a while. Gem rested on the ground, trying not to so much as twitch her leg.

When Pearl was thrown back in, though, they were silent for a different reason.

One of her antennae was missing.

It was cut off, messy stitches closing the wound, and Gem could do nothing but gape as Pearl lay in a slumped heap on the floor, her singular antenna barely twitching.

“Oh, Pearl,” Scar said at long last, breaking the silence and diving to Pearl’s side. “Oh, Pearl. I’m so sorry.”

Pearl’s shoulders trembled in a move so foreign that Gem had never seen it before, couldn’t reconcile it with her Pearl—

She was crying. Gem saw it, briefly, as Scar lifted her into his lap—Pearl’s eyes leaked sparkling tears, each one like a miniature star rolling down her cheek.

Then Pearl’s face was hidden in Scar’s chest, and Gem almost believed that she had imagined it. Pearl didn’t cry—all the time that they’ve been here, she’d smiled and laughed almost like it was any other day (albeit more tired and with a few more winces).

If Pearl was crying, that meant things were really bad.

“They—” Pearl choked out, voice muffled by Scar’s shirt.

“Sh, sh,” he hushed. “We’ve got you.”

“They—they’re mapping my eyes,” she cried. “They can’t—they’ll find—they’ll find my home!”

Gem had never asked Pearl where she came from, how she found herself on Hermitcraft, and she never shared that information voluntarily.

Maybe it was to protect her past.

Maybe it was to protect her family.

“Scar,” Gem whispered. When he looked up, she tried to convey to him that this was serious, far too serious to wait any longer. She nodded her head toward Pearl, then toward her own leg.

Scar’s face fell. He bit his lip, glanced between Pearl and Gem.

After a moment, he nodded to himself, coming to some sort of decision.

“I’ll get us out of here,” Scar murmured, gently stroking Pearl’s hair. “I’ve got it, don’t you worry about a thing.”

-

When the guards came in the next morning, Scar didn’t move from his spot against the left wall of the room, swathed in the darkest shadows that the cell had.

“Against the back wall,” the one with the stun gun commanded, aiming it at him.

Scar smiled, just visible in the darkness. It was a smile that would be considered friendly, jovial, if the person didn’t know Scar.

Gem knew Scar. She recognized that smile from a million miles away. It was the smile he wore when he was about to close a shady deal, when someone played right into his hands, when he was in games of death.

It was hungry.

“Move!”

“No, thank you,” said Scar cordially. “I think you’ll move, actually. Right back out of here, if you want to live.”

Gem blinked, surprised at his level threats. She hugged Pearl a bit tighter, her friend limp in her arms.

The guard snorted. “Yeah, right. You have until the count of three to get against that wall.”

Scar sighed. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you,” he said regretfully.

“One.”

“Y’know, it’s always count of three. Why not count of five? Or six?”

“Two.”

“Just wondering! Gem, you might want to close your eyes.”

“Three.”

The guard strode toward Scar, gun out, finger on the trigger.

Gem did not close her eyes. Pearl didn’t look, face still buried in Gem’s shoulder, but Gem watched. She wasn’t afraid of a little bloodshed, and she had no clue what Scar was planning.

Did he really think that he could take the guards on his own, when Gem had failed so definitively just the day before? What did he have that she didn’t?

Suddenly, Scar’s eyes shone from the shadows.

And they shone blue.

Scar leapt at the guard, fangs—since when did he have fangs?—bared in a snarl, and Gem barely had time to blink before Scar’s teeth were ripping into the guard’s throat, tearing it out entirely with frankly impressive jaw strength.

The other two men shouted—one guard got out his own stun gun and hit Scar with a bolt of electricity, but Scar took it in stride without so much as a flinch. His skin rippled, fading blue to match his eyes, and as Gem watched, leathery blue wings burst from his back, shredding his shirt.

The guards barely had a chance to scream before Scar was on top of them, slashing through their flesh with his sharp teeth and black claws (sprouting from his fingertips, still growing longer and longer). He destroyed them in a matter of seconds, blood and viscera flying everywhere, spraying across Gem’s face. She choked, wiped off her eyes, then noticed, with a sense of growing horror, that Scar had stopped to—to eat one of the bodies, digging a hole into his chest and pulling out fistfuls of flesh with reckless abandon.

She opened her mouth to call to him, but no sound came out. Her lips trembled, her breath caught in her throat.

Was this creature still Scar? Blue and terrifying, wings flapping and long claws stuffed into a body, his pointed teeth dripping with blood. His hair was the same, his features still Scar’s (but for the eyes, piercing and ice-blue), the scars on his face unchanged.

Would he recognize her if she spoke to him? Or would he attack them, too?

How had Scar become this—this monster?

Another guard ran up to the cell, but instead of entering, they slammed the door shut, locking it.

That didn’t seem to do more than mildly annoy Scar and distract him from his meal. He growled animalistically, then scampered (and he moved oddly, launching himself from all-fours to flight in a couple of steps, his hands and feet pushing him along even as his wings carried him) to the door. Without warning, he stabbed his claws into the metal of the door and tore through it like it was nothing more than a leaf of paper.

Then he turned, his glowing eyes lighting on Gem and Pearl.

Gem couldn’t help it—she flinched away, pulling Pearl closer to herself. She didn’t know if Scar was a danger to her or not, but after what she just saw, she wasn’t prepared to be seen as a friend.

Oddly enough, Scar’s face twisted in regret. He offered a shrug—rather downplayed by the blood coating him. “Sorry,” he said, and his voice was entirely Scar’s (if with a bit of a lisp from the longer teeth). “I didn’t want—I didn’t want it to come to this.”

Gem wasn’t a squeamish person, but she still avoided looking down at the mutilated bodies. She couldn’t stand to think of literally eating a person—what had Scar become?

“I—I’ll explain later,” Scar said, as if he had heard her thoughts. “I’ll go find a communicator. And destroy their stuff.”

He dashed off down the hall.

Pearl moved against her, tipping her head back. “I’m tired,” she mumbled.

“I know,” Gem said, trying not to gag at the scent of blood that had begun to permeate the room. She swallowed, pushing down her fear. “We’re going home. Scar’s getting us home.”

That was all Pearl needed to hear. She fully slumped against Gem, dead asleep. Gem gently rubbed her back, buried her nose in her hair (carefully avoiding the stump of her antenna).

She hoped they got out of there quickly.

-

Pearl spent a lot more time resting than she ever had. Gem figured it was something similar to chronic fatigue, now that she was missing half of her main source of energy.

When she asked if it would grow back, Pearl had just shrugged.

“Only if I go back home.”

“Are you going to do that?”

“Probably not. It’s far away.”

Pearl still managed to create massive builds practically overnight, though, so Gem assumed it didn’t bother her too much.

Gem’s leg was still recovering, a month out from their week in captivity. It had been broken severely enough that she’d needed pins to hold the bones together, which put her at six weeks minimum in the cast. It limited her sparring and building abilities, but she did what she could on crutches to keep her skills from getting rusty.

She couldn’t spend all her time practicing, though, in order to let her body recover, so she ended up filling a lot of her time with meditation. Her impatience is what got her leg broken, after all, and she’d been beating herself up about it ever since.

Scar joined her, sometimes, at various points of interest across her base where she could look out over the valley and Pearl across the way. He would sit beside her in silence, oddly contemplative as he, too, stared at Pearl’s builds.

Gem understood, now, why Scar hadn’t wanted to act except in case of emergency. She wouldn’t want anyone to see her like that, either.

He had fully transformed back into something human (she wasn’t sure that he was human, though) by the time rescue arrived, and Cub had taken one look at the gore and taken Scar straight to his base on Hermitcraft, ignoring Xisuma’s insistence that he get checked over for injuries.

Now, as they sat on a hill, a couple of feet between them, Gem wondered what Cub knew.

Scar sighed beside her.

She wasn’t scared of him. She wondered if that was what he thought, that he kept sitting with her and sending her terribly guilty and forlorn looks because he expected to be faced with fear and disgust.

She wasn’t scared. It had been—well, it had been a shock, and she still hadn’t quite gotten the image of Scar eating a human body out of her head, but she wasn’t scared.

She just felt . . . awkward, bringing it up. Scar clearly hadn’t wanted them to see that part of him. He probably felt vulnerable, rejected. Why he kept hanging around her, she didn’t know, but she had to get rid of the barrier between them.

“How’s Scarland coming along?” she asked one day, kicking her good leg a little.

As simple as it sounded, that did it. That broke the ice, and Scar started rambling about something or other, and the next morning when she settled down to meditate, Scar was already there with blueprints in hand.

She stared at his fingers as he pointed out different aspects of his design, her mind’s eye momentarily seeing a blackened claw glistening with blood.

Well. If she ever needed help to murder someone, she knew who she was calling.

[victoriathecoolest]

Zui-Ai Character official lore part 1 (made with much ❤ love ❤ (and much self insert trauma)

Trigger warning ☢️:SA(sexual assault), self harm, body horror(at my own way) , mental illness, suicide thoughts

I put my soul writing this I basically was sobbing writing that, I never truly spoke of it and I finally understood how writing is a so good copying mechanism

Cannibalism as a metaphor for love

You probably heard that phrase,the idea of devoring and being devored the ultimate act of devotion the ferocity of making your loved one feel all the pain that love caused, what if we change the phrase a bit....

Cannibalism as a metaphor for sexual abuse

I find a concept like that way better,"who loves don't hurt, who don't, do lt."

Your body is open, hurt, violated the pain is dilacerating your skin is maculated by luxurious ones who don't care by who you are who you was who you will be after everything, you're a piece of flesh to be used and eaten,that's exactly whats happened with zui

She never was human and never was treated as such

The first person who hurt her was the first person she ever was a friend of

"How does she looks like? I... I don't remember... I don't remember!"

A girl a princess, zui grew up almost as an animal, at her own business, doing whatever she pleased and wanted she didn't had a family to call hers, a friend to enjoy time, no one, when she was hungry she would eat when she wanted something she would get she didn't cared by most of the consequences she never had something to say that she loved truly, she was moody but she never showed, her mind a storm while loneliness hurt until she met a girl the first one she wanted the essence and the girl faves her all of it, she got into the best of the feasts, made so much friends she don't even could count but she didn't had a form than the girl one, all of her essence was of the girl, she had the same skin, hair, eyes and she was living the best, a family to call hers for the first time she would exitate she had things to loose, the girl wanted something back

"It's quick, it won't hurt"

"Just close your eyes"

"Just a kiss, come on Zui... I gaved you so much"

It never was just a night, it started to happen, again and again and even more, zui skin started to itch, she felt hatred by her own skin she felt hatred by everything with that woman face she started to hate, she never was someone, every single part of her was of that girl essence

she was her?

Zui wanted to die, but mostly to kill, every single touch itched at her skin, her lips got sore of her bitting it to see if that gross taste would go away, her words are short and sharp with anyone, she hated everything, she was enduring everything for them, she was enduring everything for that people who don't even cared for her?... Zui hated the mirror the idea of looking for herself and seeing that woman, no one was seeing how she was suffering, zui one day leaved and everyone she loved started to hate her, no one knew whatever was having with her no one understood the harsh words the flinching to the touch, no one ever understood her.

They loved how the woman acted, they loved how she wanted to be, but she ever was someone?

Then that question started at her head, I ever was someone? Or I am her? Zui started to want to erase it, she took every single drop of new essences she could, she tried to drop every single of her own essence, living at the skin of the one who made you stop to want to live,she wanted to change and she changed at least a bit but she still feeling the skin itching, her form changed her places changed years passed she don't remember her face, name or any of her "family" but just the thought already feels her all being with pure shame, shame for what? She don't know, she come back to living as she used to, but not willing to ever change that lifestyle again, get new essences, change no matter if your body aches... No matter if you forget yourself, no matter if you don't have a soul anymore, she will erase her

@tunadunanana @mehiwilldoitlater

Part 2 of the lore soon!

[snowyh2o]

Hazbin Hotel Episode 7&8 Spoilers:

Ok, ok. I’ve finally calmed down a bit. I have. SO many thoughts on Alastor, that I’m just not gonna touch on them in this post, aside from I FUCKING KNEW HE WAS LOSING IT FBSKDNFBSHHDHFBS.

But what I wanna focus on is Rosie! And how she’s been described as the nicest overlord. And how Cannibal Town is like, the nicest place we’ve seen in hell??? The streets are relatively clean, no one is trynna kill each other. There’s so many people out on the streets, just? Going about their days? Aside from the fact that they’re all cannibals, it’s almost like any other town you’d visit! (I am not familiar enough with the fashion styles over the years to like, accurately date what time period Cannibal Town is supposed to reflect, but it feels old (and somewhere Alastor would fit right in with) lol).

And then we actually meet with Rosie, and she’s in the middle of consulting one of her people, where there’s a HUGE line up of others looking like they’re waiting to consult with her too! And like, even before she spoke with Charlie about her love life, she’s giving advice and comfort and support and connecting to the lady she’s speaking with who apparently wants to eat her husband. Before saying that she’ll set the man straight if the lady sends him to her, and gives her a card if she ever needs any more help.

Like. First minute into seeing Rosie and like. WOW. You can IMMEDIATELY tell that this is the reason why everyone in Cannibal Town’s so chill and happy? Why there’s such a sense of order and security in a place that’s basically just anarchy?

Rosie is both the Overlord, the unofficial mayor, the therapist and consultant and your best friend all wrapped up into one. She’s got an entire lineup of people who are waiting to tell her their woes and listen to her advice. And she’s happy to help!

Even the actual cannibalism is like, so posh and proper? Or it’s treated in Cannibal Town as like, normal food. But also it’s very telling that no one’s killing each other for said cannibalism. In fact, the only times we’ve seen them do so is after an extermination, when there’s a bunch of dead bodies that aren’t reviving lying around. (And they seem to lose their manners when eating then) It is likely tho that they just, target outsiders, since everyone we saw aside from Alastor and Charlie were a part of Cannibal Town.

Just the Juxtaposition of a town literally full of Cannibals being probably THE nicest place in hell for sinners to live in??? Immaculate.

Also, Rosie’s snide comment on how Alastor’s got no manners when it comes to being offered food LOL. And, I just LOVE their relationship and interaction. First time chatting in years and she’s already offering up place with a deal for Alastor to go make. That AMAZING little joke about him being Ace and having it COMPLETELY flying over his head. Alastor letting her touch him, and how genuinely excited and happy the two of them are just talking and interacting. Their little duet in the middle of the song, the way Rosie pulls Alastor out of his scheming to just enjoy the moment. Their dance!!! She’s never been wronged by Alastor before!!! She trusts him to follow through on his side of the unofficial bargain/favor. Looking like proud parents when Charlie finds the courage to sing her pitch. I love, everything about these two, oh my god.

Anyways!!! Back to Rosie being just, a genuinely good aunt? And giving so much good advice for Charlie. Asking her the questions that needed to be asked. Rosie has, such good insight? On what the issue was, and why Vaggie would’ve kept something from her. She didn’t shy away from how big the secret was, but she also didn’t let Charlie spiral into questioning every little part of their relationship. And that little end but when she’s saying that Vaggie is flawed, but so is everyone else down in hell. GAWD. How it’s difficult to admit your regrets. Like, if that isn’t the core of the show, the core of Charlie’s dream, then I don’t know what is. Rosie cut through to the heart of the matter, she didn’t tell Charlie what she should feel or how she should act, but asked her what she’s actually feeling, and why, and told her to trust herself and her own judgement on if Vaggie’s actions were sincere or not. Man she’s such a good therapist.

(I’m half convinced Alastor didn’t just bring Charlie to Cannibal Town and see Rosie just because they needed support and numbers to fight against the exorcists, but also because she’s the best person he knows who can give out good relationship advice and he’s getting a little tired of Charlie venting at him. Especially now that she’s past the self loathing phase and has stepped into the unrestrained anger and frustration at someone else phase)

Also, unrelated topic but here’s a thought: only angel steel/holy weapons/powers can do permanent damage to someone’s body/soul. Vaggie’s eye is torn out by Lute’s exorcist blade, but her wings were just ripped off by hand. Vaggie’s eye never regenerated or recovered, but she was able to regrow her wings. Alastor was struck by Adam’s holy weapon across his chest. What if the injury never fully recovers?

And also, Alastor’s talk about “unclipping” his wings. My friend, once a bird’s wings are clipped they can’t be unclipped! You have to wait for the feathers to shed and grow in new ones. To regenerate. Also what is this talk about you having wings??? Don’t tell me you’re ALSO a secret angel??? Probably not cause your blood is red BUT. Where are you hiding those supposed clipped wings of yours eh?!

[adaptacy]

I know this might seem like a weird hcs to make   but if Johnny went to prison do you think he would want his s/o to stay with him or leave him to live a normal life ?

Hi anon! I really hope this doesn't break your heart. Sorry if it does darlin <3

If Johnny is getting arrested, if he's going away, he is going away for life. Like, ten- maybe twenty, hell, thirty times over. We don't even know how many people he's killed. And I'm no law student, but I'm pretty sure cannibalism and stalking and hunting them definitely makes those life sentences worse.

Point is, there is no way he's getting out. Not legally, anyways.

And Johnny more than understands that. He is NOT going to let you sit around dreaming about him when he knows he's gonna be rotting behind bars for the rest of his life, and then some.

The first thing he tells you when he gets arrested is not to wait for him. You'd be waiting an eternity. He tells you that he loves you, and that he's sorry, but maybe it's for the best. So yeah, no, he wants you to leave him. I mean- he doesn't want that but I think if he really does love you he wants you to be happy. It's not like he can do anything about it from behind bars.

That being said....

If he somehow, miraculously gets (breaks) out, he's hunting you down. Doesn't matter if it's been 6 months, two years, or fifteen years. He will find you. I mean, it's not like there's much to do in prison other than think about his life before. And that means you.

Sure, his tracking skills are a little rusty at this point, but information becomes easier to access the more that time goes on thanks to technological advances. And he will find you, eventually.

When he does, you immediately recognize him- prison has gyms, after all, and he'd need his muscles in jail anyways, so he's still as buff, if not more. He looks more rugged, clearly he's had a good number of prison fights. Not surprising, seeing as how it is Johnny.

At first, he's gentle. Asks how you're doing. Asks- err, demands, that you don't report him to the cops. He is definitely a vigilante, and a very much wanted man. Asks if you missed him.

And then he's a little more forthright. "Missed you. Thought 'bout you. A lot." It gives you butterflies, but you're not sure if you want to suffer through the heartbreak of him potentially being stolen away by the cops again.

Also, if you have a family or another partner, that's going to make things much more troublesome. If you accept him, you'd have to accept moving several states away from Texas and completely change your identities. And if you are with someone else...

Johnny isn't upset at you. He expected it. He never would've guessed he got free, so of course you wouldn't have either. But he doesn't really know what to do with his life if he can't have you. He hated his family- grew to hate the Sawyers as he aged in those concrete walls, realizing just how responsible they were for his problems. yeah, he's not great at taking responsibility. He had a lot of time to brew on that anger.

So beyond hating his family, you were what kept him going. Even if he'd told you to find happiness elsewhere, you were his happiness. So hearing that you are already with someone else definitely hurts.

He accepts it.

...

...

...

At first. And then he thinks about it some more, and he finds the idea a little ridiculous. You'd pleaded to stay with him, promised your devotion even when he'd told you not to. But now you were suddenly going against your word? Yeah, right.

He'd visit you often. Specifically when he knew you were alone. because he knew he could win you over and convince you with enough time. Eventually, he's taking you out to 'catch up', and then those turn into weirdly romantic dinners, and small gifts, and...

Oh, and he's kissing you. And you're kissing him back.

Shit.

This is gonna be tough to explain.

[spookytastemakercolor]

Overprotective dad Bob Velseb??? 💳💥💳💥💳💥

Dad knows best!

Dad!Bob velseb x Daughter/Son!Reader

Yesssssssss!!!!!!!!!! You have gotten my interest little Mothling! (And just at the perfect time!) I don't see anything about headcannons so for you I shall give a short story! And I know EXACTLY what to write about! TW this is very gorey and graphic.

Warnings: Blood, gore, cannibalism, nudity, mentions of cheating, Bob being overprotective as hell, dead body, killing, cursing, teeny bit of angst, tooth rotting fluff

The front door slams shut as you run upstairs to your room, tears streaming down your face. The sound of another door slamming in the house rings throughout the halls, Bob wasn't home yet. You were alone in the house, and you found that as a blessing as you cried into your pillow in your room. Bob was going to loose his shit if he found out.......

---- Time skip ----

It was late now, probably 2, before Bob came back home. He dragged a mutilated body with him and smiled crazily " Littl' lamb! I'm home! " his southern accent called out. He got worried and his smile went away when you didn't come and greet him, not even a reply from somewhere in the house! He dragged the body into the blood and guts covered kitchen, which desperately needed to be cleaned, and sighed in relief when he noticed you in the kitchen. " Littl' lamb! There ya' are! Ya' got me worried there when ya' didn't respond..... " he chuckled slightly as he threw the body onto a table that acted as a chopping board for y'all.

" So! Tell me my littl' killer, how'd your date go? " Bob knew you had been raving about a date your boyfriend set up for you two, he didn't approve of him at all but knew he had to accept him just for you. He was about to chop off a arm but stopped and looked over at you worried when you didn't say anything " Littl' lamb? " he asked concerned. You finally showed him your face, tears streamed and fell from your eyes. It looked like you had been crying all day.......

Bob quickly set down the butcher knife and quickly hugged you " Hey hey hey... It's alright littl' lamb. What happened? " he was concerned and also slightly angry, knowing your boyfriend had something to do with this. You hug him close and cry into his chest, not being able to talk without sobbing " H-he...... H-He cheated on me........ " " WHAT!?!?!?!? " Bob screamed, his voice was deep and sounded like a demon out of hell. Oh he was angry. . . . No. That's not the right word. . . . . . . . HE WAS ABSOLUTELY BEYOND WORDS FOR HIS ANGER.

Bob's voice was still deep and demonic as he held you closer than before " What. Did. He. Do. " he demanded a explanation before he went on a absolute murder spree. You sniffled, hugging him closer and starting to explain what happened between crying " H-He took me out to the park....... A-and once we reached the entrance I turned around to kiss him b-but he pushed me away......... " you started crying more as you continued " I-I tried asking h-him what was wrong......... B-but he laughed at me! " You started shaking slightly as Bob tried calming you down " H-He said I was pathetic...... T-that nobody would l-love the kid who's dad's a m-murderer........ H-He....... H-he....... "

Bob shushed you and started comforting you as you broke down, his grip was tight and his voice was comforting and strained " Ya' don't have to continue...... Just calm down littl' lamb.......... Dad's gotcha'........ " he held you close as you cried into him, he was holding himself back from going and killing that boy and hunt down every person related to him. But that could wait, you needed Bob right now.

Slowly Bob calmed you down, still holding you close as you started to feel better but not yet done crying. Bob was using whatever will he still had left not to just go after that boy already, his anger was rising the more he thought about it that he started to mumbled to himself about what he'd do once he got his hands on him. " I swear'. Once I get my hands' on him I'll- " he stopped rambling when he felt you shift in his hold, quickly turning his attention back to you with a soft expression on his face " I-It's fine dad........ Y-You don't need to waste your time like that.......... " your voice was hushed and small as you talked, voice slightly horse as well as you wiped away whatever tears came from your eyes.

Bob wasn't having it thought, he refused to, that boy deserved to be hunted for hurting his littl' lamb. That's when he had a idea. A smug and soft smile over takes his face as he looks at you, softly wiping your remaining tears away as he slowly started to calm down " Littl' lamb, hey, look at me. " you lift your head up towards him, the hug not as restricting as before as a look of curiosity is seen in your eyes. Bob's smile just seems to grow, not being able to restrain his pure excitement over his idea to cheer you up " Why don't I take ya' out for some killin'? Like old times'! " you slowly nodded in agreement, a small smile comes onto your face as the idea brings some joy to your gloomy mood.

" Sure! I just need to get ready! " Bob let's out a short laugh as you quickly leave his hug, running upstairs towards your room to most certainly change into something disposable. He had a soft smile on his face as he turned back to the body on the table, picking back up the butcher knife as he starts cutting up the body to put it in the freezer. As he cuts up the body a sickening smile grows on his face, his eyes going slightly insane as his pupils turn cyan. That BOY was going to suffer for what he did, and he'd make sure of it.

" Ya' messed with the wrong family ya' little bitch....... " He mumbled under his breath as he harshly chopped off the head, the sound of the cervical vertebra breaking instead of splitting only emphasising just how hard he slammed down the butcher knife. Blood sprayed onto him as he looked at the cracked vertebra blankly, his pupils a deep cyan and his smile wide with insanity. " Dad! Really! " the sound of you scolding him for getting blood on himself broke his blank stare, he turned his attention to you and chuckled nervously " I'll change! Don't ya' worry! "

---- Time skip ----

You both were outside of a all too familiar house, a look of pure confusion on your face as you looked over to Bob. " Dad, what are we doing here?????? " your voice was a whisper as you didn't want to get caught, or worse someone heard you and recorded your conversation. Bob had a soft and nervous smile on his face, looking over to you as he held his signature knife in one had and scratched at his neck with his other hand " I know ya' said you wanted me ta' leave it be, but I can't! He hurt my littl' devil and he needs to pay! So, I thought that if ya' kill him you'd no longer be so sad! "

You looked slightly perplexed at his confession, thinking about it as you tossed your own knife Bob hand made you between your hands. The more you thought about it, the more you wanted to indulge in the idea of killing your now ex more. It only solidified as you heard a door open from his house, and out walked a barbie blonde who waved bye to him from his window. You turn to Bob, adorning a insane smile on your face, as you gripped your knife handle hard in your dominate hand and let out a sinister chuckle " Well, I suppose getting rid of the source of my pain isn't so bad~...... "

Bob's own insane smile took his face, his pupils a nice cyan, and he let out a pleased chuckle when your voice mimicked it's own demonic tone " That's my girl/boy. " his own voice went demonic as you both had equally insane looks on your faces, oh tonight's bonding kill was gonna be F U N. You both made quick work of sneaking into the house and up the stairs towards his room, having to both contain yourselves from just running upstairs and getting to him already. The house was a complete mess which made it slightly difficult to sneak upstairs, various bottles were scattered everywhere and old takeout food or clothes were just strewn all over the place " No wonder he never let me over, it's a fucking mess in here...... " you mumbled with clear disgust, you may have a gory kitchen but it wasn't as bad as your ex's house.

When you made it upstairs his door was slightly cracked open, giving you a chance to hear his conversation he was having with someone over the phone. He let out a laugh as both you and Bob waited outside the door for the right time to strike, it seemed whoever he was talking to was a friend of his " Hahah! Yeah! You should have seen the look on her/his face! Like I'd ever date the literal definition of insane, she/he was absolutely obsessed with me! " that when you realize he was talking about you, more specifically how you had put your entire heart into the relationship and he viewed it as you being obsessed or insane. You didn't need to look over towards Bob to know he was SEETHING, the ever growing feeling of his death stare at the door told you all you needed to know.

" Anyway, I gotta go, Ashely is supposed to be coming over soon. " you almost felt revoltion and anger bubble in your stomach like acid, now having Bob stare at you in wait for if you'd break down the door or not. Ashely was his " ex ", but when he broke up with you she was there to rub in your face they'd been sleeping together since you two started dating. When he hanged up you waited a minute, hearing the light go off so he was in the dark and a twisted smirk came onto your face " Dad, do you think you can keep a eye out for her real quickly? " your voice was hushed as the unmistakable sound of the front door opening and closing is heard, Bob quickly catching on to what you were going to do and sneaking down stairs to " Greet " the new guest.

Slowly you opened the door to his room, your eyes giving you the advantage to see him laying face up on his bed. You had to suppress a scoff and gag as you notice him completely naked on the bed, his pathetic excuse of a manhood on display if the lights were on " Ashely! Why don't you come here~? " You had to control yourself as he called you Ashely, unaware it was you and not her. But you knew it wouldn't be long before he realized it's you, and your insane smile only grew as you made quick work of making your way towards him. You noticed cuffs attached to the headboard and quickly cuffed his wrists to the headboard, him chuckling as he was none the wiser to what was going to happen " Damn, really Ash- " " I'm not Ashely~.......... "

Almost immediately horror took over his face, he sorta freezes in place as he realizes it's you and that he was cuffed to his headboard. Bob ended up coming up the stairs holding something behind his back, giving a sinister and disgusted chuckle at the scene before him in the dark " Well then, shall we give him a gift before we begin? " You found a switch, causing the room to be flooded in red lighting which made you giggle, you moved towards Bob and looked behind his back which draws a excited gasp from you. " Oh yes! That's the perfect gift! " he ended up starting to struggle in the cuffs, causing Bob to get annoyed and quickly make his way over and stab one of his legs still to the bed. A bloodcurdling scream is ripped out of him, Bob's knife tearing through Muscle, tendons, nerves, veins, all the way to the bone which is split right where the knife was stabbed into.

A unmistakable crack was heard with the squelching of blood quickly rushing to the surface and spraying out the wound, no doubt to any of you that his Fibula and Tibia were possibly split from the middle through bone marrow and all. You let out a laugh and made your way over to him as well, making quick work to stab his other leg in the same spot and manner as his other leg, relishing in the scream that's drawn from him as you look to Bob with insanity almost plastered to your grin. " Let's give him his gift! I simply can't wait! " excitement oozed from your voice as your ex started to panic, his legs were most certainly useless and if he struggled he'd probably split the bones of his calves in half more than now. So in hopeless dispair he could only helplessly look between you two, eyes moving rapily between you two as his panic increased " S-Suprise? O-oh god. Please n-no. D-Don't tell m-me tha- "

Before he was able to say much more, Bob moved what he was holding behind his back to your ex's face, causing your ex to pale and almost vomit on the spot at the sight in front of him " Aww~, don't be like that with your G I R L F R I E N D. " in front of your ex was the mutilated head of Ashely, a permanent look of pure horror on her face in the form of a unreleased scream that never escaped her. At the base of her head, through the bloody mess that was there and dripped crimson red darker than a blood moon, her Cervical and part of her Thoracic spine hanged freely with a clean split right where Bob had cut her spine off. You clapped your hand's with glee as you looked at your ex's horrified face, grabbing at the exposed spine hanging from Ashley's cut off head and pulling at it.

The spine came out of her head and neck without much protest, causing the hole it left to pour a river of blood onto the bed with her tounge even falling out onto your ex's lap. Your ex threw up onto himself as Bob laughed and you wrapped the spine on your neck like a scarf, Bob throwing Ashley's head into your ex's lap and giving you a hug while putting pressure onto the knife in his left leg " That suits you so well littl' devil! " Bob said as he twisted the knife the right causing his Fibula and Tibia to actually split in half, a scream that was loud enough to cause you and Bob to cover your ears coming from him as crimson blood came from him like a water fountain. " Y-You're INSANE!!! B-BOTH OF YOU!!!! " you let out a laugh as you got out of Bob's hug and harshly grabbed your ex by the throat, causing him to slightly gasp for air as you were face to face with each other.

Bob leaned against a wall close to the bedroom door, having a smug smile on his face as he decided to let you have this kill for your outing. Your eyes were a deep cyan as you yanked the knife out of his left leg and held it against his chest, you truly looked like Bob's daughter/son in that moment as you adorned his famous smile and crazed eyes that everyone knew " I'm more than insane..... I'm the DEFINITION of insanity. Now. ⱠɆ₮'₴ ₲Ɇ₮ ₮Ø ₮ⱧɆ ₣Ʉ₦ ₱₳Ɽ₮.... "

---- Time skip ----

The walk back home was filled with laughter and maybe even a buzz of excitement? But it was very evident that both your bloodlust were satisfied and so was your satisfaction of revenge, if anyone needed more proof about that both you and Bob were covered head to toe in blood. Bob let out a content sigh as he wore a relaxed smile on his face as you both walked, looking downward behind you both to what little remained of your ex's body that he was dragging along (I'll spare the details about it.....).

" So my littl' lamb! Feelin' better? " Bob asked you while he looked at you with a small look of nervousness, he didn't want you to be sad after everything you just did to your mutilated and mangled ex's body. But when you gave Bob a relaxed and happy smile as you began to rant about how much fun you had and how you felt better, his nervousness went away as he felt absolutely pleased to know you were better now. He listened intently to your ranting and let out small laughs here and there when you'd reenact things you did, he especially laughed when you mimicked you're ex's crying and screaming finding it funny remembering how girlish it was.

When you finished your rant you were already home outside of the front door, Bob throwing your ex's body into a campfire near the house starting to pour gasoline on it, you let out a sigh and hugged bob from the side as he lit a match. " Thank you Dad....... I couldn't wish for anyone else to be my dad..... " Bob smiled as he handed the lit match to you so you could throw it on your ex, the final act to cut all ties with him, and hugged you back with a slightly tight grip on you. " Of course...... Anythin' for my littl' devil. " You couldn't help but feel absolutely important and loved when Bob said that, you already knew your dad loved you but it's always nice to hear him tell you that sometimes. You threw the match onto your ex's body lighting it ablaze as you and Bob hugged each other, the smell of burning flesh floating in the air but not bothering either of you as you simply enjoyed your father daughter/son moment. Bob wearing a bigger smile than the two of you as he knew that he'd never let another boy near you, he'd kill any boy who dared look you're way and dare speak or break your heart. It's like the old saying-

Father knows best!

So this definitely derailed from what I was originally gonna do (　；∀；). BUT it works and I have very little motivation to go back and rewrite everything..... So! I'm sorry this took so long but I've already explained what was going on in a different post so please don't expect a deadline from me, and I hope you enjoy what I have written! If you have requests you want to ask me to do check out my requests page (Pinned comment with all my rules and comfort level for writing) and for now BYYYYYYEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!

[intimacyequalsdeath]

Bubz's 12 Days of Ficmas: Day 7 Christmas Dinner (Johnny Sawyer and Family)

Day 7 of ficmas coming right up, delving back into video game TCM instead of movie TCM.

Notes: Minors DNI, SFW, fluff, No specific pronouns or descriptions of characters used.

"What do you mean Drayton said no?"

You asked Johnny incredulously standing in his bedroom at Nancy's

"Darlin' I mean just that, he said he wasn't makin no Christmas dinner. Nubbins apparently already ate all the meat for it anyway."

"What do you mean Nubbins ate it all?! I've been saving that for Christmas for like a week!"

You pinched the bridge of your nose with your fingers as Johnny laughed from his spot sitting on his bed. You couldn't stand the thought of Christmas coming and going and not having any kind of dinner, even if you now lived with your boyfriend and his family of cannibals.

"What did mama say?"

You asked him referring to Nancy, Nancy adored you so you know as soon as she caught wind of Drayton saying no to you that she would set it straight.

"Mama? I didn't ask mama yet , why?"

"You think mama would be too keen on Drayton saying no to Christmas dinner of all things?"

You asked with a smile, already knowing the answer by the look on Johnny's face as he also shared a shit eating grin.

"Darlin' you and I both know mama would be distraught at the thought of us missing Christmas dinner"

"Then it looks like I have someone to go talk to about Christmas dinner then"

You stated heading toward his bedroom door knowing that Nancy was home. You followed the sound of commotion into the kitchen and were met with not only Nancy but Bubba and Sissy were also over.

"Hey there sugar, do you want any tea? I just made it?"

Nancy asked as soon as she saw you enter the kitchen. You nodded at her giving her a smile.

"Thank you mama, but before tea I need to talk to y'all about something"

You said catching the attention of all three members of the family as you heard Johnny's deep chuckle from his bedroom.

"What is it?"

Sissy asked confused from her place next to Bubba at the table.

"Drayton told me we aren't allowed to have Christmas dinner"

"He said what?!"

Nancy exclaimed, turning from the tea kettle to face you.

"No Christmas dinner? whoever heard of such a silly thing"

Sissy agreed, Bubba made a series of sad grunts in protest himself.

"Johnny said that Drayton said that Nubbins had turned the meat into beef jerky or something and has already gone through it all even though Johnny told him not too"

You explained to the family as you took a seat at the kitchen table across from Sissy and Bubba.

"I done told that boy I don't know how many times that, that meat was for Christmas dinner.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear is how the old saying went as Nubbins and Drayton themselves stumbled in to Nancy's house after a long day of trying to and successfully rounding up escaped meat.

"Drayton Sawyer! You've got some explaining to do"

Nancy said as Drayton walked into the kitchen. When his eyes met the four of you sitting around the kitchen table he knew what she was mad about. Johnny also walked into the kitchen when he heard Drayton arrive and not wanting to miss the show he took his spot next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and tugging you close.

"Nance honey now wait a minute-"

"No Drayton, you've obviously had your time to talk, now I'm gonna take my turn. Not have a Christmas dinner? are you crazy? When in all the years of heading this family have we not had Christmas dinner?"

"Nancy I only said that cause we ain't got enough meat for it"

Drayton desperately tried to spare himself from the onslaught Nancy was dishing out.

"And who's fault is it we ain't got enough meat? Maybe if you had been watching Nubbins like I had told you to do."

Johnny's chest began rumbling with a hearty chuckle under where your head was placed on it as Nancy continued to yell at Drayton. Sissy and Bubba were also obviously enjoying the show of Drayton finally being put in his place.

"That just won't do Drayton, you and Nubbins need to go out there and get us some meat for Christmas dinner. Don't even think of coming back to this house until you got us some meat"

Drayton's eyes widened at Nancy's proclamation. Johnny, not being able to hold it back any longer began to laugh out loud at Drayton. Sissy gave a giggle and Bubba started spewing out happy noises as Drayton was being dressed down.

Drayton's eyes locked with yours and suddenly you realized he had figured out who told Nancy.

"You" Drayton began "You think this is funny?! You think me gettin yelled at is funny you good for no-"

Johnny stood up from his spot suddenly, sizing Drayton up as he locked eyes with him.

"Don't push it old man, you better watch your mouth and go out there and do what mama said too"

Drayton shot Johnny a nasty look but turned and headed for the door, yelling for Nubbins to go get his ass back in the truck as he let the front door slam behind him.

Johnny took back his seat next to you, replacing his arm around your shoulders and placing his empty hand on your thigh.

"Somethin' tells me this is gonna be the best Christmas dinner we've had in a long time"

Johnny said giving you a smile you happily returned. You couldn't help but agree with him as you felt that this Christmas would be just a bit sweeter then most.

[teecupangel]

hear me out:

clay/subject 16 having a kid he didn’t know about, or perhaps maybe desmond having a second kid he didn’t know about, or even william himself somehow had the rizz to accidentally make a second kid 😭😂

I mean… when the first chapter of Black Flag’s webtoon came out, Noa is shown to have Altaïr, Eizo and Ratonhnhaké:ton as his ancestors which led to the ‘ideas’ that he could be Desmond’s son. Of course, we also thought of the idea that he can be Bill’s son as well if having Altaïr as an ancestor isn’t based on the father’s side but on the mother’s side, since he does have Japanese and Korean and one of Altaïr’s grandchildren or even an older Darim could just as easily had a paramour in Japan while they were chasing after Genghis Khan’s children/grandchildren (the easiest being in Tsushima).

So, in this case, you didn’t specify if you wanted this to be a case of Clay, Desmond or, god forbid, Bill learning they have a child which gives me an excuse to focus this on Elijah XD

For this one, we’re dealing with the canon events in the eyes of Elijah. While the whole… Layla trilogy was happening, Elijah’s been busy laying low and building some sort of super computer that used cannibalized parts from all over.

With the skills and knowledge Aita provides him, Elijah is planning to recreate the Phoenix Project, but not for Juno.

Juno was…

A prototype. Something he did under duress while he was blinded by rage and desire for revenge.

Now, he’s rebuilding it to… well, at first, it was to bring back his mother but he later learned that it was impossible.

His mother was so inconsequential to the Calculations that there wasn’t enough data about her to bring her back even if he uses his own DNA. It still wasn’t enough.

So, he decided to pivot to trying to resurrect Desmond Miles instead.

He would say it was the only logical conclusion. Desmond Miles was the human who was closest to the Isus, not like Sages like him who were haunted by the memories of those who helplessly pathetically clung to life (and yeah, he is absolutely aiming that at Aita).

And Desmond Miles had enough DNA to be recreated with the access of the Calculations…

Because Sample 17 is a complete copy of Desmond Miles’ DNA.

So… after Elijah finished the device (improved from that garbage Juno’s cult modified from Abstergo), his next course of action was to get the original Sample 17.

During his investigations of where it could be, he learned that Abstergo had been checking for more people who had interesting connection to Desmond Miles and any other Animus Subjects.

That’s how he learned that he had a younger sibling (whether this one is a sister or a son is up to you) who was being held in an orphanage under one of Abstergo’s shell companies.

Whether this child is born from a night of passion or was actually created by Abstergo itself using… other means… is up to you.

Elijah has no reason to save this child he has no connection with. For one, he already ignored Noa Kim even when he had pinged in his radar because he knew the Assassins were already dealing with that one. All he had to do was tip the Assassins off and they’d find a way to rescue this child but…

The orphanage may have other clues that will lead him to the original Sample 17.

So he infiltrates the orphanage, found the clue he needed and…

… got back to his base with three children instead of one.

…

Sooooo…

Apparently…

The death of Desmond Miles had been the final straw that destroyed whatever feelings William Miles and his wife had with one another.

Oh, sorry.

Ex-wife.

While he was grieving his son and not doing any of his responsibility to the Brotherhood, William Miles had a…

Elijah felt like he was going to hurl…

… one night stand.

He has no dealings with William Miles.

He only had heard of William Miles.

But that didn’t mean he wanted to learn about William Miles’ sex life.

Regardless, when he got to the orphanage, finished his actual work, and went to get his ‘new’ sibling, he learned that…

1. Said sibling had a friend who must come with them if Elijah wanted to whisk them away.

2. Said sibling had been put in charge of a baby of all things who turned out to be William Miles’ second child.

Which means said child is technically his… aunt? Uncle?

Everything had been hectic since that was divebombed at him that he didn’t have spare time to check for something so inconsequential.

So now…

Elijah had become the guardian of three young children.

… he really needs to get the original Sample 17 so he can push all of these to Desmond Miles instead.

Unorganized Notes:

The main point is that Desmond is revived to find out that he does not only have one child, but two and a younger sibling as well as another child who is definitely Clay’s child (Elijah checked) so yeah… he was resurrected by a bunch of children (well… Elijah’s like… 18 by now)

Clay gets involved because Desmond’s resurrection still has him have a connection with the Gray where Clay is and Clay can connect with Desmond while he has a POE.

This will easily moved into Clay and Desmond trying to be good parents in their own ways and trying to raise three (four if you can Elijah who does not want to be counted) children.

Does Bill learn he has another child? Your call. Or you can just have that child think of Desmond as their father and Desmond just rolls with it since he is the one raising said child.

[sugolara]

𝘼 𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙙𝙖𝙮

ft. Shota Aizawa x daughter! reader

Synopsis: After a deadly virus leaks all over the world, Shota Aizawa and his eldest daughter must survive from the flesh eating monsters in hopes that Eri is still alive. Cw: gore, quirkless! au, apocalypse! au, zombie! au, weapons, death, angst, blood, cannibalism, suicidal thoughts, cross-posted on ao3, wattpad, qoutev

series m.list || next

The day the outbreak started

"Bottom floors are flooded with the dead! We managed to block the door to prevent them from coming in but the door won't hold in any longer!" Hizashi told Shota after he and Toshinori came back.

"We don't have much time. It won't take long before they come in and come after everyone in those rooms." Toshinori said as he worried about the students locked in the classrooms. "We should've taken them outside so that they have a chance of running."

"No." Shota said and stared at the end of the hallway where pounding was coming, "The streets are filled with those things. I barely made it."

"Shota...we can't take them with us." Hizashi said as he stared at his friend, already knowing what he was thinking. "The military aircraft won't allow it. With how small it is, barely half of us will even fit!

"That's bullshit." Shota scowled, "They can’t just leave these kids here, they’re humans, not a life you can just toss away! There has to be another damn aircraft!"

"They did say another aircraft would wait in Hosu." Toshinori tried to reassure Shota but he knew it wasn't working. Instead, the pounding of the door caught all their attention, "We should go, now."

"C'mon." Hizashi tried to move Shota, "We did all we could. The dead would have a hard time getting into the classrooms. It would give some time for the students inside to escape through the windows."

"...This is messed up." Shota whispered, "We shouldn't leave them here."

"I'm sure the aircraft would come back and rescue them when we tell them there's people here." Hizashi once again tried to move his friend forward but he was beginning to get frustrated, "Shota, move it."

"No." Shota yanked his arm from his friend's grip and began to move into a different hallway, "You two get out of here. I still need to do something."

"Wait!" Hizashi and Toshinori tried to grab the black-haired male's attention, "Where are you going!?"

"My daughters are still out there! I'm not leaving them behind!" Shota then turned to face them, "I'll see you guys! Stay safe."

The two blondes watched as their friend ran off. They watched as his figure got further away and turned through a corner, his figure out of sight. They mentally wished him good luck and moved to the roof of the building where a military aircraft would arrive.

Running down the hall, his mind raced as he thought about his daughters. Were they safe? Did their school evacuate already or were they trapped in a room? Or maybe...something else happened?

He had to push his thoughts back as he tried to get to his daughter's school. When he arrived at the hall door, he quietly listened in case anyone was behind the door. When he heard nothing, he hesitantly pushed it and peered inside. The hall was dark from the power going out.

He calmed his nerves before slowly entering and closing the door behind him. He watched his steps as he tried not to step onto the fallen corpses of the school's students. He avoided looking at their body as he felt like he failed to save them. He wondered if his students were doing okay in the dorm.

Walking further, he stumbled a bit as he tripped over a body. He grunted as he caught his fall, but his body shook as he heard a growl and a hand grabbing onto his ankle. He twisted himself and with wide eyes he watched as the student tried to maul his ankle.

His survival instincts kicked in and tried to shove the dead off of him. He kicked the girl's student face and mentally apologized as the girl was shoved off and tried to grab onto him once again.

Shota didn't get the chance to run as other deads nearby turned to his direction and began to move towards him. He cursed as he realized he was surrounded. Acting fast, he moved into a classroom behind him and loudly shut the door but with his back unguarded, he failed to see another dead student pounding onto him.

He grunted as the dead grabbed onto his shirt. He tried prying him off as well as not letting go of the door but it was difficult and if he wanted to leave, he had to let go. With a deep breath, he moved away from the door and slammed himself onto a desk until the dead removed himself.

He then looked around and picked up a nearby scissor. When the dead neared him, he sunk the scissor into its head and repeated the action with him and the dead toppling onto the floor. Blood sprayed everywhere and a pool of blood began to form underneath them.

The male then let out a heavy sigh as he dropped the scissor and moved away from the body. He peered at the body and then back at the door where the dead were pounding.

How the hell did this even happen? It was all Shota could think as he moved his way to a window and looked down. He opened it and climbed out, his feet kept him steady as he kept an eye on a shed that was placed beneath. He was thankful he was on the third floor and a drainage pipe was next to him to help him climb down.

He worried as he climbed down the pipe as it would wobble from his weight. When his feet were able to reach the shed, he jumped onto it and then safely jumped onto the floor. He crouched as he moved around the school building and avoided anything that could trigger the dead nearby.

It seemed like most of the students were inside the school or in their dorms as civilians were mostly outside. When he reached the front of the gate, he anxiously looked around for a clearing where a dead wasn't lingering but it was impossible as the road was completely filled.

He instantly made up his mind and decided to make a run for the forest that surrounded the school. He dodged every mangled hand that tried to clutch onto him. He kept low once he no longer spotted any dead and quietly continued forward.

He figured he would try the nearest school which would be Eri's and then head for F/n's. He first had to look for some sort of weapon. He cursed himself for leaving the scissors behind.

Exiting the forest, he stayed near a bush and watched as a few dead walked around and cars left unattended. He looked inside the car from the bushes as the doors were left open. From what he could see, a bunch of suitcases were left so he moved to a different direction where he spotted a lonely dead man stuck under a car.

Shota closed his eyes as the man was most likely run over and died from his injuries. He then spotted a pistol near his waistband. He hummed as he looked around for any dead and then moved forward to the man.

Getting on the floor, Shota hurriedly reached his hand out to the gun as he was worried the growls would alert any dead nearby. He let out an annoyed sigh as his hand couldn't reach it. He moved half of his body under the car and when his hand touched the gun's handle he quickly grabbed it.

His eyes peered at the gun. He's never used one but he did know the basics so maybe it shouldn't be hard to figure it out. With a weapon on hand, he steadily walked to Eri's elementary school.

However, his heart dropped when the school came into view. All the windows were broken and the front door was broken down. The school playground was coated in blood and Shota feared the worst as he thought of Eri. He hurryingly rushed inside only to be met with silence.

"Eri!" Shota yelled out as he frantically moved room to room. "Eri! Where are you!?"

When he moved into a room, he saw Eri's shoe coated in blood. His heart shattered as crumbled onto the floor, tears soon beginning to brim his eyes. Through his blurry vision, he spotted a bloody paper a few inches away from her shoe. He sniffled and picked it up. His eyes widened and his heart was put at ease.

"They said we would be heading to Sorston. I'm okay, dad. Eri." Shota blinked tears away and looked up, a relief washed over his face as the wall ahead was marked in red paint. It read, "Place secured".

He gathered himself and placed the note in his pocket and left the elementary school. He wondered if F/n was also with Eri or was still in her high school. He then decided to head for his oldest daughter but the sun was beginning to set down. He needed to be quick but it was difficult with the dead trying to eat him.

He stayed near cars as he traveled to the high school. He knew he should've sent her to U.A. It would've been much easier to keep an eye on her, but her persistence and wanting to be with her friends had him cave in. 

He regrets coddling her so much.

"Fuck." Shota angrily whispered as the road was blocked by a horde of dead. There was no way to continue unless he wished to die. He stared at his gun and shook his head. Noise would only draw them to him. He then peered at the sky, at least a couple more hours before the sun was gone.

Letting out a low sigh, he figured he would come by tomorrow early. It'll give him some time to pack a few things and get going to Sorston and find Eri. Steadily making his way home, he checked his neighborhood and was surprised it was empty.

"Seems like they managed to get away." Shota figured and headed to the front of his house. Once there, he opened and closed it behind him as he continued further into the house, but a sound crashing alerted him. He moved to where the sound was heard.

Nearing his daughter's room, his hands shook as it held the doorknob. Holding a deep breath in, he quickly opened it and aimed his gun, but let out a sigh of relief and tightly hugged his daughter, "F/n! H–How did you get here?"

F/n sniffled and showed him a bloody bat she was holding, "The teachers took us all outside and told us someone was coming, but when we turned around they locked the doors and we were left alone. Some guy came in and began to order us to run into a nearby truck, but a classmate shoved me back and the guy rescued me as we got left behind. He gave me his bat and he had a gun and tried to get me to a nearby house, but...I heard a crash and a car was on top of him!”

Shota eyed his gun and wondered if it were the same person, but shook his head and rubbed his daughters hair, "I'm glad you're okay."

"Dad...where's Eri...?" F/n whispered asked, afraid to hear the worst but her father reassured her.

"She's fine." Shota began to move around and grab a duffel bag made for traveling, "We need to get out of here and go get her. Then, hopefully, find an evacuation site."

"Where would we go?" F/n questioned as she watched her father pace around grabbing useful things.

"For now Sorston. It's where Eri is and we need to get her before we do anything else." Shota then handed F/n an extra backpack she used for middle school, "I need you to pack your stuff. Don't pack a lot, just things that might be useful."

F/n eyed her bag, a solemn look on her face, "Dad...how are you so sure that Eri might even be there? If someone did manage to get her, what makes you think they didn't find any trouble on the way there? Sorston...is far. Very, very far."

Shota stopped packing and instead stared at the duffel. Although it was painful, his daughter was right. He even saw what those things could do but he'd rather not even think about it, "F/n, pack your stuff."

The h/c haired girl stared at his back for a few seconds before heading to her room and packing a few clothes and a photo of a smiling F/n, Eri and Shota. She then headed to Eri's room and grabbed her small apple plush that the little girl loved. When she was done she stood by her fathers side as he boarded the front door with the living room couch and closed every curtain.

For now, they would rest and tomorrow morning their travel would begin. 

[degloved]

for all that i tend to dislike the parallels drawn between hannigram and hoffstrahm, they're not entirely unfounded. and for that, i think, they're all the more interesting to set side by side and pick apart (picture me here, if you will, clad in white and peering at the four of them through a microscope while they just sort of growl at each other like stray cats that have only just met.)

with that out of the way, let's look at those initial parallels everyone and their mother immediately saw—the explicitly expressed and implicitly implied "we're conjoined. i'm curious whether either of us can survive separation." the answer in both cases is a resounding NO, though here the similarities stop. if saw v had been brave enough to give us the ending both we and the characters deserved, they'd both have died in the glass coffin trap, full stop. no ifs or buts or anything else, they ought to have both died then and there (and if you share this opinion, perhaps you might enjoy @tranquilitybasehotelcasino's take this to your grave (i'll take it to mine) or my entre chien et loup.) however, perhaps due to the fact that this is not what we got, the theory is actually affirmed—strahm died, and hoffman went off the rails. it is a popular belief that strahm was hoffman's last remaining tie to some amount of sanity, and that's for a good reason; without strahm, the downward spiral was imminent and unavoidable. this remains unchanged if the roles were reversed; if strahm had been the one to live instead, he would find no peace or comfort in the death of jigsaw. he'd left too much of himself pressed between the pages of numerous case files and reports, the sinewy bits of hoffman still stuck between his teeth. it's all one big what if, but i think it's safe to say you would find him poring over the same files and evidence years later, tapp-like in his obsession of a case solved. (if he let himself live that long.)

similarly, hannigram are doomed to the same two choices; had they not lived through the fall (which had of course been implied that they had by bedelia's unfortunate fate), they must die on the rocks below. for only one to live would be a cruel and unusual punishment, which one might say would befit the likes of them, though in that case one would fail to understand that the other would end it all soon thereafter. if it had been will in that role, he would not hesitate—he had already passed his judgement atop that cliff, and would not have second thoughts about redoing that death sentence. if it had been hannibal, he would not go against will's very judgement; in those moments after dolarhyde, hannibal trusted will—and in this moment, he would continue trusting will.

however, hannigram did live—imo—and now, i invite you to engage your suspension of disbelief, as i'm basing this part off the idea that strahm never did get trash-compactor'ed and instead chose the life of a fugitive alongside hoffman, who also never did get saw-bathroom'ed either. and the similarities between the one pair and the other sort of dissolve here, once they find themselves doomed to a life on the lam. post-canon hannigram are both cannibals, hannibal being a very purposeful one and will being a situational one. if the meat is on the menu, will is eating it. meat is meat is meat is food and why should we waste food? he wouldn't go out of his way to eat people, and he'd never instigate a hunt of his own, but if hannibal needs a hand? if hannibal is cooking? why the hell would he complain. meat is meat is meat is food, and he knew what he got into when he ran away with hannibal. and he didn't "get into it" inasmuch as he leaped for the opportunity. hannibal will allow a dozen dogs in the house and their doggy hair on the couch, and will will allow human meat in his dinner. it is easy, because they're made of the same stuff, and will is for the first time at liberty to revel in this darkness that comprises the building blocks of them both.

meanwhile back at the ranch, strahm could not possibly get with hoffman's serial killing tendencies. he'd never stop being angry, he'd never stop seething. he's only here because the alternative is being alone and hoffmanless, and somehow that is worse than this predicament. and he's furious for that fact too, though most of all, he's furious with himself: for the first time in his life, he has acted completely selfishly. for the first time he has taken exactly what he wanted—and it might be, on the whole, one of the worst things anyone could want. it is hard, because they're made of the same stuff, and there's evidence of this in abundance right before his eyes. his only saving grace would be this anger that he is clinging to, because it's the only proof he has that he's not yet wholly rotten. irredeemable, yes, by the virtue of doing what he's done, but he's not that bad, he's not hoffman. and he doesn't want to be like hoffman. and you might ask, why does he stay, then? if he hates it so viscerally? unfortunately (for strahm), he is not exempt from the human condition, he is not exempt from the raw, unbearable desire to be seen and to be understood and, most of all, to be loved. the majority of behaviors and attitudes he's ever displayed to the world have been universally and unanimously deemed as repulsive and off-putting, the majority of the world saw him as 'that angry guy nobody really likes or talks to.' and then another guy came along who saw all of that—the rather tame stuff (his standoffishness and brusque manner) and the more eyebrow-raising stuff (the tendency to bring a gun into the interrogation room and point it at himself and the suspect and the people on the other side of the one-way mirror)—and instead of repelled, the other guy found himself smitten and in love. well i wouldn't know how to act either to be honest. between staying put and watching my one shot at love hit the road without me, and blindly following my one shot at love no matter what my deeply ingrained moral code told me to do... well. you know. WHO'S TO SAY! anyway.

in conclusion, and in the words of @tranquilitybasehotelcasino:

they love each other so much it's SICK, a bit because and a bit despite. hannigram have brought an open season to the poor mfs of cuba as their love manifests itself outwardly—in the overlapped hands on the handle of a knife twisted into somebody else's gut & the warm meal following thereafter; the people of alaska or maine or whatever quaint little westcoastian town hoffstrahm have relocated to remain suspiciously safe, simply for the fact that their love manifests itself inwardly—in the two pairs of hands wrapped around two throats & the promises of violence lovingly whispered in the dark. you know