#legend of the sun virgin

[bitter69uk]

Born 102 years ago today: wondrous operatic Peruvian High Empress of Exotica Yma Sumac (née Zoila Emperatriz Chavarri Castillo, 13 September 1922 - 1 November 2008). All these decades later, Sumac’s divine superhuman voice still inspires awe! I revere all of Sumac’s recordings, but Legend of the Sun Virgin (1952) is a particular favourite. Pictured: portrait of gorgeous young Yma Sumac by Peter Stackpole for LIFE magazine (1950).

[ymasumacforever]

Yma Sumac

[juletheghoul]

primus

a/n: Something a little different, I am obsessed with General Marcus and the idea of him becoming a gladiator. Hope you enjoy this other world I want to live in lol, no beta and barely proofread!

Warnings; 18+ no minors, vague but big-legal age gap, piv sex, dirty talk, body / breast worship-Marcus gives it so right🤤, hand-stuff - female rec'g, taking of virginity, (reader is a slave so there is a power imbalance but so is Marcus), gladiatorial violence, nothing graphic- let me know if I missed any!

Pairing: Marcus Acaciusx F!Reader

word count: 3.4k

reblogs are appreciated

Masterlist

--

The crowd roars loud enough to deafen, the sound of it like a great wave threatening to wash you out to sea but it's nothing new, you’re used to it. The house you serve, have served since birth, has done well for itself in recent years, all thanks to one Gladiator.

Marcus Acacius, the champion of the house of Romulus. 

You’d seen him come in years ago and although you had been little more than a child, even then you could see what he had been reduced to, disgraced and defeated and practically at death's door. He had fought though, Gods knew he had fought. And just as you grew and flowered into a woman, he honed his skills anew, won matches throughout the city and had transformed from the disgraced General of Rome, to a true champion of the people. 

You could see it even now, watching him make quick work of the paltry opponents sent to fight him in the arena. He swatted them away like troublesome flies, and the crowd loved him for it. The cup was held out to you, just as the man in the sand raised his sword. 

“He really is of a form.” One of the hosts of the games remarked about the man fighting below, and your Domina smiled proudly. 

“My husband has taken him and honed him, I dare say none in Rome are his equal.” 

“We shall have to see about that.” The guest chuckled, not quite convinced but your Dominus laughed, unperturbed and unconvinced.

“My wife speaks truth, my Ludus has shaped him into a God of the arena.” 

They continued their friendly bickering, while you watched the man below, you couldn’t deny his allure despite being more than a few years older than you. He looked up to the pulvanis and saluted to his Dominus, to his Domina, and for a heartbeat it felt as though his eyes locked with yours. 

Lightning struck in your belly, the intensity of his gaze, even so briefly made your heart race. Ghostly fingers squeezed at your heart when the opponents fell on him, cornering him until he was surrounded. Attention locked on him despite your station, the laughs and doubts of his victory wreathing through the guests you served turned your stomach.

Deaths in the arena were a guarantee, that was to be sure. Every time your Dominus secured spots for his gladiators in the games it was expected that not all would return, this felt different though. He had to survive, why, you could not be sure.

“Aha! There we are. The legend of him is proved. He is victorious, and my wife’s words are true, as always.” Your Dominus smiles, kissing his wife’s hand as the doubters grumble about luck and ill-trained opponents. 

The words flow over you, the only thing that draws your attention is the man standing below you, victorious and whole.

–

“The good wine, fetch it for me girl.” The sun shines through the balcony as your Dominus congratulates the gladiators who returned to the villa victorious. His wife, your Domina, sends you for the wine while he speaks at length of their virtues, stoking the fire of survival and vanity in them.

In truth the games hold no interest for you, never had you particularly enjoyed watching men fight to the death, it was a waste and had you the choice, you would never attend another.

They cheer louder than before when you return with the heavy jug, narrowly avoiding dropping it when he turns and catches your eye once more. Marcus has been invited out of the ludus below, and up into the main house. 

He is much bigger than you expect. Tall and broad enough to intimidate anyone but the most surprising thing are his eyes, they are the softest thing about him.

“I would reward you, for your victory, for the honour and wealth you have brought to this house. Name your desire and I shall see it done.” 

You pour for your Domina, ears straining to hear his voice.

“You honour me Dominus.” It’s so rich, deep and full of smoke. Your main focus is on not spilling the wine.

“I confess, I have felt a desire of late.” Your ears perk up, eyes following suit and when they meet his, they’re already set upon your face.

“You want her?” Your Dominus looks to you now as well, and you feel like a piece upon someone else’s board, to be moved around at their will.

“Only if she desires me as well.” He bows his head, and despite the tiny bloom of gratitude in your chest, your Dominus laughs.

“If she is what you desire, take her. The guards will lead you to the private quarters below and you may keep her there until the morning. I will have wine and a meal brought for the both of you.” Your Dominus waves a hand and it is done. Your virtue has been gifted to a Gladiator. 

Your Domina frowns, but says nothing. She merely watches as you are led away, to spend the night with the former General of Rome.

-

The quarters are indeed private, but meagre. A lumpy bed, a small table with two chairs, an even smaller table with a large basin full of fresh water and clean linen, and a window. The door closes and your heart jumps into your throat.

“Shall I disrobe and lay on the bed?” You reach for the hem of the tunic, silently praying that he would not be too rough. The prudent thing to do, is to get it over with. 

“No, wait-“ his hand engulfed yours, stopping you from reaching down and pulling off the fabric that hides your nakedness from him.

“I would speak a while, come.” He gestures to the table and you frown.

“Do you not desire my virtue? Is that not why you asked for me?” 

“Yes, well, in truth I desire your company, as well as your body. I have noticed you of late, you have grown into a beautiful woman and I find my thoughts drifting to you often. Of your voice and of your touch. I dream about you.”

Your eyes widen, shocked into silence by his confession.

“I would have you enjoy our coupling, rather than simply enduring it.” His eyes dart away from your form when the guards bring a platter laden with food and drink, and when he gestures again, you finally sit.

He takes his time cleansing himself of the grit and grime of the arena, scrubbing away until a handsome, lined face appears underneath. Once clean, and armor free he sits with you, and urges you to eat.

It is a silent, slightly tense meal. Your fraying nerves had you mostly picking at the fruit and cured meats. The flutter in your belly kept you from overfilling it. 

“How long have you served in this house?” His eyes are bright, curious.

“All my life. I was born in this house.” Your fingers fiddle with the edge of your tunic. 

“Are you treated well?”

“I mostly tend to the Domina, she is very kind.” Your eyes drift to the bed, and the bottom of your belly falls again to imagine what he’ll ask of you once his own belly is full. 

“You spoke of your virtue, you are as of yet untouched?” His voice lowers, almost apologetic. 

“Yes. Well, untouched by anyone, except myself. There have been covert kisses here and there, friendly ones with others of my station.” He says nothing, but his gaze travels the expanse of your body. The slide of them is heavy from your breasts down to the slit in your tunic. His food sits forgotten on the small plate in front of him, and now there is hunger of a different kind on his handsome face. 

“Do you find me desirable?” He leans back in his chair, broad and golden from the sun. Heat blooms in your chest, filling the corners of you. 

“You are kind upon the eyes, I will not lie.” He smiles at this, and the heat spreads to the place between your legs, the place he will fill soon and a shudder travels along your spine.

“Have you enjoyed my victories in the arena?” 

“I confess, I do not favour the games. Watching men kill each other holds no interest for me.” He laughs, surprised yet delighted. 

“And yet you live and serve in a ludus, watching gladiators come and go your whole life.” 

“The Gods have their reasons, I do not presume to question my place.” You shrug, unable to stop the corners of your lips from pulling up into a shy smile. 

“Perhaps it is I who is blessed to end up here, in your company.” He muses and for a moment you cannot face his direct stare. “Come, lovely one. Let us to bed.” He rises, holding out his hand for you, It engulfs yours when you accept and join him. 

Butterflies swarm as he guides you to the edge of the bed, the fine hairs all over your arms and legs standing on end when those rough, calloused palms skate softly over the curve of your shoulders. His breath fans over your face as he reaches the bottom of your tunic, pulling it up and off. The urge to bring your arms up over your breasts, to reach down and cup your sex makes your hands shake. 

“You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen.” His hands settle on your hips, squeezing at the flesh for a moment before removing his own layers. The sight of him, naked as you, with his heavy sex hardening before your eyes makes you shiver, part nervous, part exhilarated. 

When he lays you down, you part your thighs to make space for him, once again praying the pain won’t be unbearable. The confusion paints your face in a frown as he lays beside you, and not directly on you. 

“I would have you wet for me before I slip inside.” His tone, his words send another shiver down your spine before he presses his mouth to yours. 

You have kissed before, a soft press of your lips to another, the barest taste of their tongue between rebellious giggles in the dark. Marcus’ kiss is nothing like that. He pulls you close, turning your body to press it to his, the stiff peaks of your breasts meeting the solid wall of his chest as his tongue slips past your open mouth and tangles with your own. For a moment, it is a little awkward but he guides you, pulling away before pressing forward again, leading you in his rhythm. 

Your heart races, a curious excitement pooling low in your gut, in the yet untouched place between your thighs. You press them together while he claims your mouth. 

When he pulls away, his breath comes out in pants and his sex presses hot and heavy against your belly. 

“Lay on your back my sweet.” He kisses your shoulder, and you obey. Now, you think, now he will shove that thing inside me and rip me in half. You swallow thickly at the thought, it is so much thicker now, too big, surely. 

He presses kisses to your shoulder, trailing them down to your arm, then the side of your breast before he pulls your nipple into his mouth. The steady suck of his mouth at the hardened peak forms a direct line to your cunt, the ache in it pulling a whimper from your mouth and a huff of self-satisfied laughter from him. Your skin is shiny with his spit when he lets it go. 

“Does that feel good?” His hand holds the plump of your breast, tongue flicking against the peak while you nod, mouth-open in a silent stare. “What do you feel?” He sucks at it again, harder this time and a gasp leaves your mouth. 

“I feel, hot. Warm all over, and an ache–” You pull in a sharp breath when his teeth pull teasingly at the bud. He soothes with his tongue, pink-cheeked and focused. 

“Where do you ache?” He lets go, smoothing his palm in the valley between before holding the other one, and worshiping it just the same. 

“I ache–oh, I ache–” It’s hard to focus when he sucks at the other nipple, your thighs pressing together without your permission. He stops, eyes flitting about your face.

“Where do you ache, tell me.” 

“I ache here.” He follows your hand as it cups your cunt, the soft, fine hair there soaked in arousal like you have never known. He groans to see it, and then his hand pushes yours away, slipping between your thighs to pull them apart. He leans on his elbow, muscles glinting in the soft candle light as his fingers spread open the lips of your sex, exposing your dark pink insides to his gaze. 

“Your pretty little cunt is so much better than I dreamed, spread your legs for me my sweet, I would work her open to take my cock.” Your heart races, your cunt clenches and then his fingers find the crux of you. They swirl slowly around the pert, sensitive pearl of your clit. Your mouth drops open in a silent ‘O’ at the way he manipulates you. 

“So wet already.” He lowers his head, lips wrapping around a nipple again as he keeps his slow, maddening circuit. Your hands grip the threadbare linen beneath you, whole body clenching as he shoves you closer and closer to a shattering climax with his slow, delicious circles. 

“Doesn’t that feel good? Doesn’t that feel so good, my sweet?” He presses his lips to your neck, whispering into your ear and you nod, frantically, clenching around nothing while the edges of everything blur with the threat of pleasure. Around, and around, and around he swirls, consistent, devastating until you can almost taste it. 

Your mouth forms a steady chant of yes, yes, yes, as he continues his gentle exploration between your legs, fat pearly drops of his own arousal slipping against your hip but he is in no hurry. 

The ache intensifies, the slick pools at the mouth of your cunt, and it's with a final, wet swirl that your climax washes over you. Your legs clamp shut around his hand, your body folds in on itself with the strength of it but it does not stop him, two thick fingers spear into your fluttering entrance, stretching and drawing out the pleasure of it while you gasp into his kiss. 

“Gods above.” You whisper to yourself as the blood pounds in your ears, the warmth of his skin, the slick, rhythmic sound of his fingers working away between your legs stoking the fire once more. 

“I could spill just watching you.” He pulls his fingers out, dripping in your lust and shoves them into his mouth. “Sweet as summer wine.” He licks them clean, vulgar and sweet all at once. 

Again he reaches between your legs, slipping his fingers inside once more but with his thumb swirling around the crux of you. 

He brings you to climax again, more intense with his fingers inside, petting at a divine spot you’ve never touched, and again, he doesn’t stop. He repeats his movements, his tongue flicking at your nipple, or licking into your mouth, until it’s too much and you push his hand away. 

“Please, no more–I cannot.” You gasp for breath, skin shiny with sweat, the spot beneath you wet where your arousal has dripped down and soaked through the linen. 

He laughs softly, proud and cocky at how many times he made you fall apart under his hand. 

“If you would let me, I would do that for days.” He presses another kiss to your shoulder before moving up and settling between your thighs. The nervous flutter intensifies as his cock slips between the mess he’s made of your sex. 

“I think you are open enough to take me now, I will try to go slow.” He kneels back on his haunches, lifting one leg up to hold. His fingers curl around the top of your knee, your calf resting on his shoulder as he grips his cock in the other hand.

Your belly trembles, part embarrassed, part excited to be so exposed to his gaze. The blunt end of it slides through your swollen folds, coated in your slick before he notches it and it’s with a slight burn that he slips it in. Inch by inch he presses forward, molding you to accept him, shaping you to fit him like a glove. 

“Gods above.” He curses low as he bottoms out, so deep you feel him in your lungs. 

Your hands ache from how tightly they grip at the fabric beneath you. 

With a shuddering breath he holds himself still, allowing you a moment to get used to the intrusion of him, only a moment. 

A sharp thrust pulls a gasp from your lips. His grip on your leg tightens, the other hand slides up and holds onto your hip, steadying you to accept the snapping of his hips. 

The flex in his arms, the strong, firm muscles of his thighs pressed up against yours, the sheen of sweat glinting on his face and on his chest, all of it only makes it better, his beauty and his obvious desire for you serve to make you leak around him. You can feel it, dripping down your ass to add to the damp spot beneath you, it collects at the base of him too, drenching the curls there.

Your pants, his heavy breathing, and the vulgar sound of his skin slapping against yours is the song of your coupling. The burn is replaced with a pleasant feeling of fullness. It is not as good as his fingers at your clit but his obvious pleasure adds to your own. 

“I’m going to come, going to fuck it deep inside of you.” Sweat drips down his nose and the vision of him, so like when he’s in the arena might push you closer to another climax. 

“Here it comes–” He presses your legs up, opening them wider, folding you in half while he fucks into you hard enough to make the bed shake. With a low groan, and a thrust deep enough to hurt, he swells impossibly thicker for a moment before emptying himself inside you. 

He shudders, grinding himself deeper as you wince, milking himself inside your body before pulling out and falling onto the bed beside you. 

You catch your breath for a moment. Surprised, and grateful that despite there being the edge of violence to his taking you, it wasn’t the brutal, awful experience you were afraid it would be. Considering your station in life, it was quite nice. 

“Give me a little while, and I will be ready to take you again.” He turns and presses his lips to your shoulder again. 

“Again…? You wish to take me again?” There is clear confusion threaded through your voice, but he laughs, goodnaturedly. 

“Oh yes, I have you for this one night, I plan on taking advantage. Did you not enjoy it?” He rests on his elbow, head held in his palm while his other hand skates over your skin, raising goosebumps in its wake as it palms one breast, then the other. 

“I enjoyed your fingers, you brought me to climax more than I ever have on my own in a single night.” You curl onto your side towards him, soaking up the warmth of his skin. 

“But you did not enjoy my cock?” His hand lands on your hip, holding you there and it’s curiously exciting how much skin he can touch at once. 

“It was… a lot.” He laughs, nodding for you to continue. “I liked the fullness of it, but you were very deep. I could feel you in my belly and when you spilled it was intense.” He lets out a groan before pressing forward and stealing another kiss. 

“It will feel better, we have to find which position you like best. Which angle you enjoy more.” He pulls you closer, tilting your chin up for another kiss, softer this time. 

“What position do you enjoy most of all?” Your hands gravitate to his chest, pressing against it to feel his heart thumping against your palm. 

“I am partial to being ridden.” He smiles, lip caught between teeth and heat floods your body to know he is imagining it. 

“Why do you favour it?” 

“Because I like when a woman takes her pleasure from me, It pleases me, to please her.” You could see it then, his soft eyes staring up in devotion as some faceless woman rides his cock. The longer you think on it, the more that faceless woman starts to resemble you. 

“I would have you like that next.” He smiles, and you smile back, nodding. 

By the time the sun rises, he has taken you every way you can imagine and your sex is so sore you don’t think you’ll be able to walk without wincing. 

When the guards come to take you both back to your respective places, they have to physically pull him away from you, his lips pressed against yours in a goodbye kiss. 

“You are the only prize I will ever ask for.” He calls over his shoulder as you smile at him.

For the first time in your life, you are excited about the next games.

-

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[yikimiki]

>> bones and ashes

⚔️ sukuna x fem!reader | warnings for: violence, mentions of death, possessiveness (sukuna is as evil as they come so basically every red flag under the sun), non-con that turns into dub-con (Stockholm syndrome), mentions of virginity loss, anatomically impossible size difference (if u know what I mean), blood play, etc | around 5-6k words | also important to note that I absolutely assassinated the canon lore in some points but bare with me

Sukuna doesn’t really have the ability to love. But he thinks he gets close enough when it comes to you. Of course, in his own twisted, macabre way.

Sukuna isn’t familiar to the concept of fondness, let alone anything more profound or meaningful than that. He knows want, desire, possession, curiosity even. But none of those feelings have ever tilted towards the side of affection, nor does he want them to. They’re all narcissistic pulses that keep pushing him forward — towards more power, more control, more of what he can become. He’s not even fond of his own abilities. Arrogant? Perhaps, but not fond. He can’t be fond of something he knows is not at its peak yet, that would just be weakness.

And Sukuna is everything but weak.

He sees you in a cold winter morning and he does what he knows best: he takes. Takes your pride, your virginity, your blood. Takes you like he took the lives of the rest of your village, paints your skin red and watches as the tears wash it away. Sukuna takes and takes until you have nothing left to give, just like he has done countless times before and yet… this time, something switches.

This time, he decides to let you live. Trapped in a dark cell, of course, but alive regardless.

The days move slowly, and you learn to mark their passing by the loud, clanking sound of a metal dish being thrown through a cracked door. The food is mostly raw meet and, after a few days of disgust, you cave in and eat a little of it. Not enough to be satisfied, not even close, but enough to keep you alive for at least a few hours longer.

Sukuna comes by in irregular intervals, and you soon give up on trying to find a pattern in his visits. You know it’s him from the way the door creaks open even further to accommodate his size, and you watch as his large shadow observes your movements for a moment before he kicks the disgusting plate towards you. Most of time time he’s there, you force yourself to eat, afraid of what should come if you turn down his unspoken commands. Once he seems satisfied, he exits without a word.

There is one single advantage in being in a windowless, isolated cell: you can’t hear what goes on up there. You’ve heard enough the day that Sukuna came to your village — the shattering screams, the pleads for mercy, the babies crying, the sound of wood and bone breaking almost too similar to differentiate. You saw creatures beyond your realm and heard awful whispers and threats; held you family as they died and gave up as the snow beneath your hands became as red as the burning sky above. And you know enough about Sukuna’s legend to be aware that it wasn’t an isolated incident.

When evil incarnate arrives, there’s not much you can do but surrender.

Though, when it comes to the legends, you thought that his palace was more of a manner of speak than an actual location. Once again, though, you’ve heard enough legends to know when to stop inquiring about the details.

Sukuna comes in after a week with a plan and a cloud of amusement over his head — frankly, given the state you were in, he thought you would be dead by now. Your stubborn hold on life is as impressive as it is pathetic.

“You looked so small when I first saw you,” his thunderous voice breaks the silence. There’s no food in his hands this time, only the fire cracking behind his form. You’re sitting down on the cold floor, back against the wall, and you don’t even bother looking up at him. “You look even smaller now.”

You don’t answer, because you don’t know what to say. Of course you’re smaller — you’re weak, starving, lacking movement and sunlight. Every muscle in your body aches and the aftertaste of dried blood never leaves your mouth. Smaller is a compliment; you wish you were just bones and ashes by now.

Sukuna takes a heavy step inside the dark chamber. “I killed everyone you’ve ever loved that day,” he says, bluntly. There’s no amusement nor sorrow in his tone — it’s a neutral statement. He lowers himself to your level and, on the corner of your eyes, you see his four arms. He is so wrong, even in a physical sense. Like the scar of something that shouldn’t even exist. “And yet… you live. Do you want to know why?”

You sneer. “I wish you’d just let me die.”

He chuckles, and one hand meets the side of your head. His fingers dig into the dirty, messy strings and pulls on the roots. There are tears on the corners of your eyes but you refuse to let him see them. “That’s exactly why you’re alive,” he says. “I knew you were ready to die when I saw you — all bloodied up, on your knees in the snow. It was quite a sight.” Sukuna’s voice is a malicious whisper as he comes even closer to you — he smells rotten. The tongue that licks up your cheek makes you want to puke. He tastes you the same way as he did on the first day, and you have no idea what he’s searching for. “Tell me, why were you so ready to give yourself to me? Most try to plead at least.”

“Plead for what? Your mercy?” The sarcasm is clear through your tone. The words you mean to say are knotted in the base of your throat and the odor Sukuna reeks is making you dizzy; making you remember everything that came before this. “I— I didn’t have anything else to live for,” you stutter. “You killed… you killed my mother, my father, my baby brother… why would I want to live without them? Why would I humiliate myself asking for mercy from a creature that clearly doesn’t have any to spare?”

Through anger, you look up at him. His eyes are flames bursting through the darkness, and they shine as your words settle on his skin. “Do you only live for love, my little dove?” He asks. “What a purposeless life you have.”

“Do you only live for hate?” You ask back before you can hold your tongue. Somewhere in your mind, you know that he’s capable of unimaginable evil, but you are beyond the point of caution. “What a purposeless legacy you’re leaving behind.”

This angers him. The corners of his mouth twists as he speaks. “You people fear me. Even the strongest of sorcerers doesn’t dare to go against me.”

“I pity you and your ridiculous need for destroying what isn’t yours,” you spit. “And I hate you for keeping me alive. I hate you for everything you’ve done to me and to the people I love. And I hate that you even dare to come here and talk to me like I’m the smaller person for daring to care about something.”

The hands on your hair tighten and he pulls your face against his. Sukuna’s forehead is a furnace against yours, his eyes burn into your soul. “You little insect, I could kill you with a snap of my fingers if I wanted to.”

Your voice shakes but you say it regardless: “Do it, then, what are you waiting for?”

“No,” his answer is more cruel than death could ever be. And he knows that. “And you know why?”

“If you are keeping me alive to have your way with me, so be it, have it,” you say. The tears are obvious now. You wonder if he can smell how fearful you really are. “Violate me like you did before, I don’t care anymore, but just don’t keep me alive just to waste me away.”

His lips are touching yours now, but you can’t pull away even if you tried. Sukuna’s chest is heaving like he’s in the middle of a battle, his voice like a roar in your ears. “Then ask. For. My Mercy.”

“I w-would n-never…”

“Ask!” It’s a loud command that crashes against you like a wave. You sink like there is no adrenaline in your body to keep you afloat; the anger that moved you before is no longer within your reach.

The truth is clear: you’re human. He’s a curse — the king of curses, older than you could ever imagine; probably even more powerful than the legends you’ve heard. His eyes say that there are fates worse than death and you believe them. And maybe, just maybe, if you play by his rules, he’ll grow tired of you and let you wither away.

“P-Please,” you are sobbing now, tears falling down like a cascade. Sukuna licks them and hums in satisfaction, watching as you break apart into a mountain of hiccups and trembling limbs. “Please just… have mercy on me. I’ll do whatever you want just — please, stop torturing me like this.”

“Aw,” he coos. “Was that so hard?”

You want to say that yes, somehow, that took everything still left in you. You want to say that if he wanted to break your spirit, congratulations, he’s done it. But you don’t get the chance.

Sukuna kisses you with the same ferocity you expected, sharp teeth crashing against yours and tongue exploring your mouth with no prior warning. He groans as he tastes you — you, the blood in your food, the salt of your tears — and suddenly it’s all that he will ever crave again. You whimper against his lips as his two lower arms crawl up your thighs and hold onto your hips, pushing you against him as he stands up and presses you against the wall. You feel more caged now than you have felt these past few days.

“Silly little human,” he raps against your lips, then licks your cheek for more of your precious tears. He realizes how much he likes to make you cry. You wince and give out a little sob, which only makes him smile. Finally, his grip on your hair loosens. “What is my name?”

You blink, dumbfounded by the sudden question. “S-Sukuna…?”

He pouts. “Say it like you mean it or I won’t be so nice.”

“Sukuna,” you say more firmly this time.

“There we go, that’s a good girl,” he says. “See how things just work better when you don’t misbehave? Hm?”

You nod. He doesn’t like it. “Y-Yes, I see, I’m sorry.”

“Very good.” The hand that was on your hair moves to hold your face, and it’s so huge that you feel like it would crush your skull with one single movement. As the other two arms hold onto your thighs, the fourth limb squeezes your breast. “Now, this is what’s going to happen, my pretty little human,” Sukuna starts, “I will have my servants take you to my chambers. You will be washed, clothed, and taken care of. They will feed you proper human food this time, whichever it is that your heart desires. How does that sound?”

Sounds like a trap. “And, in return, what do I have to do for you?”

“What do I have to do for you…?” He raises his eyebrows.

“Sukuna,” you complete.

“There’s my perfect little girl,” he says. You hate that something inside you likes the praise. “You will have to wait for me there. Do whatever you prefer, but don’t leave my room. Any attempt at escaping or killing yourself will be futile, and I’ve already warned every single curse that your death will result in a much more dire future for them. So you will be brought back to me. And I promise I won’t be so nice.”

“I understand… Sukuna,” you correct yourself quickly. It doesn’t go unnoticed.

The hand on your breast squeezes tighter, and you bite your lip so you don’t complain. “I knew I was right when I brought you here, something made me spare you. Yet, I don’t know what it is just yet.”

Sukuna is a looming threat above you, his limbs trapping you, and his deep voice is like thunder about to break. You know why so many fear him — you fear him too. And the sooner you act like it, the sooner he’ll grow tired of you. Sooner he’ll realize he was wrong in bringing you into his fortress.

He smirks. “But I believe I’ll discover soon enough.”

- ⚔️ -

Sukuna’s chambers are as spacious and monstrous as himself — corners switching and adjusting like breathing flesh; furniture morphing into different shapes; the weird odor of something old; the feeling for something lurking. The large windows show a world between worlds; a reality that doesn’t seem right no matter how long you stare at it. His palace is in a dimension you can’t reach, and you give up on trying to understand it. If anything, the more you wonder about it, the more you shake under the weight of the sheer power it must take to keep it all existing like solid matter.

Your passage of time is morphed and unreliable, but you would guess that a couple weeks have passed by the time that you come to terms that, perhaps, Sukuna isn’t as easy to bore as you first expected. The fire in his eyes doesn’t seem to diminish as he sees you — if anything, his eagerness to have you all to himself only seems to expand — and the way he takes care of you makes you realize that he isn’t planning on letting you die anytime soon.

Life in his chambers is far more comfortable, you admit, but it’s a prison nonetheless. Still, you can’t say that you are mistreated. In his chambers, you are bathed and clothed, well-fed and pampered. You soon come back to your normal weight and the fatigue leaves your body; there is more space to move, more things to do. The curses that come to check on you seem to be strangely kind and human-like, though you know it’s out of fear and not out of worry, and they keep your mind occupied with several stories and legends as the days move on.

Sukuna is more absent than you would have imagined, conquering and killing as often as he can. When he finally comes to you he is clean, recently bathed, but you can still see he is fresh from a battle, some mindless corruption beyond the horizon that you would rather hear nothing about. There are shallow scars and deep cuts that heal unreasonably quickly; dried blood that hasn’t quite washed away and ashes beneath his fingernails.

You ask whose village he has attacked this time, but he says it doesn’t matter, because there are no survivors.

“I never leave any survivors,” he completes, kissing your forehead, “besides you, my little human.”

You don’t push beyond that information, but the feeling of being special, chosen, starts to blossom like a dangerous rose inside your chest. It stings and stings, but grows regardless, and you see yourself less able to fight against his possessive claims. You start to enjoy them. You start to wonder if life beyond those walls is worth fighting for when you seem to have everything you would ever wish for right here.

You can always tell when Sukuna is about to arrive in this world because the atmosphere switches into something darker, heavier. The air seems thicker and the clouds beyond your windows start to bleed into a deep shade of red. Sukuna returns with the apocalypse on his back, and, when he does, he uses your body as he pleases.

Like the room around you, there is constant change. Sometimes it hurts like hell; sometimes it’s pleasurable. Sometimes you wish it would just end and you end up crying in despair; sometimes you look at him like you might get used to feeling him inside of you. Some days, Sukuna is kinder, more patient, taking time to adjust you to his enormous size and even makes sure that you enjoy it before reaching his end; fucking you full of his cum until you can’t think of one single thing besides him. Other days, you know he is angry just by the way he walks through the door — and, in those days, you are left bleeding and bruised as he uses your body in every single way until he’s close enough to satisfied. That, on itself, can take a long, long time.

You realize that, during those violent days, he could use one of his curses to please himself, but he prefers to use you — because you bleed, you cry, and you suffer. As long as your pain exists, his interest is unwavering.

However, like everything else, you adapt, get used to it. Routine becomes familiar and you learn the tell-tale signs of his rancid mood; learn how to make it a little better and what things to avoid. You stop thinking about getting away — you don’t even have anywhere else to go — and start longing for his presence as he takes more time to come back home. Sukuna is warm, safe; next to him you know you are shielded from any harm. When he appears, no one dares to look or touch you, no one speaks until they are spoken to. Just by being in his gravitational pull, you are protected and no harm will ever come your way again.

Even if it hurts, you start hoping that he won’t get tired of you.

Sukuna, on the other hand, isn’t quite sure how he feels about it all.

It’s not love — he has gone over that one a few hundred times already, has marked off every possible scenario and imagined every possible feeling, and he is sure it isn’t love. To be frank, he doesn’t even think he’s capable of it even if he wanted to, he sold his soul too long ago to even remember how normal humans love. But if it’s not love, it’s something similar — a kind of tenderness, fondness. He has a soft spot for you, to put it bluntly. Though not in the typical sense.

Sukuna adores you like a painter adores his favorite canvas; like an exotic bird in a cage — he adores you with possession, obsession, with the knowledge that you can’t ever get away from his grip. He is fond of you in a way that he would murder anyone who would even dare to touch what is his; but would never set you free. He can hurt you, he can tear you into pieces and build you to his liking. Sukuna can kiss you or bite you; hug or break you, but it’s because you’re his little pet and no one else’s.

He is fond of the way you bend for him; the way you look at him with sheer adoration in your eyes even after he has taken everything from you. He is fond of the way that only he could kill you; that your small life is in his hands and you thank him for it. Sukuna is fond of the way your tight little cunt stretches so wide to take his fat cock; lives for the little whimpers you give out and the tears that stain his satin sheets when he finally allows you to cum for him. If he could crawl inside your soul, he would. If he could take it and eat it and have you forever, he would.

He doesn’t know why he craves you so much, but he knows that nothing else gives him the same high anymore.

So he keeps you.

It’s a heavy stormy night when he comes back the next time, and his room is only illuminated by a few candles and the lightening from outside. You’re in his large bed, looking as small as that day in the snow, and there is a touch of worry in your eyes that he doesn’t miss. But he ignores it.

“Undress,” he commands.

You rush to do as he says, throwing the faint fabric over your head. It falls to the ground as Sukuna walks towards the bed, his massive weight making it dip under his knee as he leans closer to you.

“My pretty little doll,” Sukuna muses. “Missed me?”

He always asks that. And your answer is always the same.

“So much, Sukuna.”

It’s more honest every time.

He hums, satisfied, and smirks as he pushes your hair away from your face. “I have something to tell you, and I think you will like it,” Sukuna says. You look at him with wide eyes as he settles over you, his four arms caging your body as you lay down. The mouth on his stomach open and closes, a large tongue coming out before it vanishes again — it always does it when he’s particularly excited. “Would you like to know what it is?”

You know he will tell you regardless. Like all the tales of his battles, he lives for the glimpse of horror in the back of your eyes. “Yes, Sukuna.”

“Seems like you are famous now,” he starts. You furrow your eyebrows. “Sorcerers are trying to save you. The poor little human girl that Sukuna took as a prisoner months ago.” He kisses your neck, then licks the skin. You shiver — months, it has been months then. “Two of them tried to enter my domain today, stupid little insects,” he continues. Another hand lands on your exposed breast, playing with your nipple. “You have no idea how enraged that made me, my little human. To have someone try to take you away from me; to try and to enter my domain and take you from me.”

His voice turns into a growl by the end of the sentence, and you feel the familiar pulse of terror running through your veins. He’s in a bad mood, that’s obvious, but there’s something hiding beneath that as well.

“What did you do to them?” You ask. “Did they get in?”

Sukuna chuckles darkly, and the hand that was on your breast now settles on your clit, massaging it softly. “I took care of them, my sweet thing, of course,” he says. Your breath hitches at the slow pleasure of his movements, and your eyes flutter shut. “No one will ever take you from me.”

“I don’t want to lose you,” you say without a thought. In your heart, you feel it’s wrong. But without him, you have nothing. “I’m yours forever, Sukuna.”

“I know you are,” he answers.

Sukuna holds you by the throat as he kisses you — not enough to suffocate you, but enough to make you a little dizzy. Your eyes cross mindlessly as his tongue invades your mouth; a deep groan coming from his chest as he tastes your lips. He always kisses you violently, possessively, like he wishes to suck your soul out of your chest. Beneath his size you can only shrink and hold onto his large biceps, the wetness between your legs growing as he takes what is his.

He pulls back, ignoring the string of saliva that connects you two. “Pretty little thing,” he muses, shoving his middle finger inside your mouth. “Suck for me.”

You do as he says and he smirks at the feeling of your pretty lips around his large finger. Soon enough, the same digit is invading your pussy, curling up so quickly that you see starts at your peripheral vision.

“Relax or it’ll hurt again,” he says — not like he cares about it. “I want you to remember tonight.”

“W-Why?”

“Because I’ll make sure that you’ll be mine forever,” he says, a devilish smile on the corners of his lips. “So no one can take you from me. No one would even try.”

Your breath is getting heavier, and you don’t even register what he’s telling you — he could do a billion things to you and you’d still let him. The time spent only in his company made your resolution vanish, and you became exactly what he wanted you to: another possession for him to do as he pleases. Because of him, you have nothing else. Besides him, you have nothing.

“You’re not cumming around my finger tonight,” he says and quickly removes his hand from your cunt. You whine at the sudden emptiness, walls spasming around nothing, but you know better than to protest. “It’s going to be around my cock, you got it?”

“Yes, Sukuna,” you say.

“Good girl,” he muses. His lower arms move to undo his pants as his mouth attacks yours once again. His sharp teeth drain blood from your lips and he groans at the metallic taste; drinks the little sob of pain you let out. “You’re all fucking mine. Forever,” he growls, “I’ll make you live forever with me.”

Months ago, that would be torture. But now, “It sounds like heaven, Sukuna,” you say. “I love you.”

Your vision falls to where his hands are working. His cock is massive, bigger than your forearm, balls swinging out of his shorts and falling heavy under his shaft. Your entire body tingles in anticipation as he strokes himself, aligning his cockhead with your opening. “Tiny fucking cunt,” he curses, rubbing it against your soaked folds. “I’ll train you to take my cock even better than now, kitten.” Your mouth falls open as he starts to push in and it hurts — no matter how many times you’ve taken him, it always burns. “Way too fucking tight for my fat cock, you know that?”

“I-I’m sorry, I’ll do better-“

He chuckles. “I fucking love it.”

In one strong motion, he shoves himself as deep as he can, pressing against your cervix as you whine at his size. It isn’t fair — it’s so thick you can’t even breathe, you can feel him in your stomach, pressing and pulsing until you can’t think of anything but the sheer size of his massive cock inside your poor little hole. Your walls hurt to accommodate his girth, stretching as far as they can, but it never seems like it’s enough.

“It’s t-too big, Sukuna,” you whine. And it is. You know he must be doing something to your body so you can even be alive right now, because it’s not humanly possible to take such a big cock. “I c-can’t…”

His hand lands on your head and pulls at the roots. “You are my special little human, my obedient little girl,” he reminds you. His cock throbs inside you and you whimper, the small movement alone makes you drool. “You will do anything I tell you to do.”

You nod. “Y-Yes.”

“So when I tell you to take it….” He rolls his hips even deeper and you call his name so loud that you’re sure the entire world will hear it. “You’ll fucking take it.”

You don’t even have the ability to answer as he starts to pound deep inside your soaked cunt, hard and violent, as he is. Your vision is blurry with tears as you look down to see his massive cock bullying itself again and again inside your cunt, taking everything you have to give.

“Look at me when I claim you,” Sukuna warns and you do it instantly. Your legs wrap around his hips and he squeezes your ass so hard it will bruise. There’s a malicious glint in his red eyes that never quite goes away, no matter how much he tries, and now it’s deadset on you. “My precious little girl,” he calls, voice strained with pleasure. You can tell from the way his cock throbs that he is close, but it doesn’t matter. He just keeps going. “You told me you love me. Do you only live for love, kitten?”

“I live f-for loving you, S-Sukuna,” you respond automatically. “I live for you.”

Sukuna groans like an animal — he adores what a stupid little fuckdoll he has turned you into. He can never get tired of this; he can never let it get away. “You’ll die for me, kitten?”

You nod so quickly you get dizzy. “Yes, a-anything… I’m yours f-forever.”

He calls your name like he has never done before, a little insane, a little sweet. If the sheer size of Sukuna’s genitals aren’t anything to go by, he cums a lot — it oozes out of your cunt before he’s even halfway through, cock throbbing and leaking again and again until you’re filled to the brim. His huge balls smack against your ass as he continues to bully himself inside you, a little more desperate now, intoxicated by his own pleasure.

There’s no rest, there never is. He only takes and takes.

“I’ll make you mine,” he groans.

“I’m yours, Sukuna, I’m yours…” you repeat like a broken record, half-aware of your own voice through the loud moans and hiccups. You watch in ecstasy as he uses one of his sharp nails to cut the palm of his hand, blood oozing out of it and dropping on your breasts. It’s like you know what he will say even before he says it. “You want me t-to-“

“Drink it.”

Perhaps you should be scared, but you’re not. Your mouth opens without a second thought and he presses his large palm on your lips, muffling your moans and allowing the hot dark liquid to invade your tongue. Sukuna’s blood is thick and it tastes like poison, but you do as he says, liking his flesh and drinking it until he seems satisfied and takes his hand away.

It strikes your body like an arrow, straight through your chest and expanding like deep roots. You feel as his blood burns your insides, changing something in your very existence. It’s hard to think through the sensations — the pleasure building up, the venom running through your veins, the mixture of devotion and fear that dances inside your mind. Your vision is double, black around the edges, and you think you might be cumming but you’re not sure you can even feel your body anymore. Sukuna’s voice echoes muffled in the background, and you can see his mouth moving in slow motion, but you don’t understand his words. You think you are crying. You think you can’t breathe. You think you are dying and being born at the same time and you don’t know why you feel so grateful for it all.

Your lungs are on fire and your throat is dry. You try to speak, but can’t. You have the vague flashback of the time your uncle made you drink alcohol, it burns just the same, but this time, no one is laughing. This time, you’re dying.

“… at me.”

This time, Sukuna’s voice rings sharp and clear. You stare at him, confused, as the flames inside your chest slowly subside.

“Keep looking at me,” he repeats, commanding.

You try to nod, but your head doesn’t move. You can’t see the room around you anymore. “H-Hurts,” you manage to get out.

“I know,” he says, and there’s a touch of softness in his voice you don’t ignore. “Focus on me. I’ll make it feel better.”

And that’s what you try to do, even if your soul seems to be floating miles above your body. You look down at where he is still moving in and out of you, at the white-coated mess that drips from your hole and soaks your inner thighs. It doesn’t seem to hurt as badly now, like your body is changing to accommodate him even better — in fact, it feels like heaven.

You look up at him, dumbfounded. “I t-think I’m going to cum, Sukuna,” the words come easier now, and you feel like you can move again. Though, it still feels like a dream. “It’s so g-good.”

“Cum on my fat cock, then, make me proud,” he coos. You close your eyes and nod, trying to focus on the paradise that blooms between your legs. You feel every ridge and vein of his massive cock; hear the lewd squelching sounds of his cum leaking out of you. It comes to you faster than you would have imagined, washing through your body like a wave as you cry and shake miserably. “That’s my girl, fuck, there we go, that’s my perfect little girl.”

The spasming of your walls manages to milk more cum out of him and he groans loudly as he releases inside you once more. Sukuna cums so much it makes you breathless, filling you again and again until he’s satisfied and the sheets beneath you have no salvation left.

“There we go, take everything,” he says in a strained groan, “every fucking drop inside this tight fucking cunt.”

Sukuna looks absolutely insane above you — fucking his cock so hard into you that it seems like he will never have the chance again; eyes blown wide and his teeth clenched. You cum again, this time a little softer, as you feel his thick cock shoot a specially large amount of cum inside your pussy, and wait until he’s done using your body.

Eventually, he settles, pressing his forehead against yours and looking deep inside your eyes. The redness in them is shining like flames, watching every movement of your face.

“Feels weird,” you say. “I feel dizzy.”

He chuckles and removes himself from you. Another white-hot wave gushes out of your cunt, and he sits back to watch it drip. “There we go, it wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You swallow, your tongue is still numb inside your mouth. “It was horrible, Sukuna. I felt like I was going to die.”

Sukuna smiles and uses two fingers to push some of his cum back inside you. “I can promise you it was better than when I did,” he says, and you’re confused for a moment. “But now we don’t have anything to worry about anymore, my sweet thing. Those pathetic little sorcerers won’t want you.”

“H-How are you so sure?” You ask.

“Aw, my sweet, stupid little girl.” He pouts, condescending as always. “No one will want to save a curse now.”

Your eyes widen. “Did you…?”

“I told you.” Sukuna licks his own blood at the corner of your mouth. “You are mine forever.”

[lamentationsofalonelypotato]

Chapter 5: We Got Us An IKEA Virgin

Pairing: Soldier Boy x f!reader, Reader POV

Summary:  When you decided to work with Butcher and his merry band of supe hunters to take down Homelander, you neve expected to be saddled with a sullen, grumpy, jerk like Soldier Boy when the job was done. The more you're around him the more you hate him, but you can't help but wonder, is he really as big a jerk as you think? Reader is a supe with plant powers. This takes place in an AU about a month after the end of The Boys Season 3, in which Butcher has let Soldier Boy continue to work with him on his team.  (I'm real bad at summaries, please forgive me!)

Tropes: Enemies to Lovers (Not in this chapter), Slow Burn, Age Difference (Reader is in her 20s), Protective Ben/ Soldier Boy, Soft Ben/Soldier Boy.

Word Count: 5.3K

Warnings: I'm going to label this 18+ because Soldier Boy (he's a warning and everyone knows it), derogatory comments, sexism, swearing, mentions of sex, sexual innuendo, sexual tension. Ben/Soldier Boy might be a little bit OOC.

Note: This is told from Reader's perspective. Any references to the reader is made using you or your. There is minimal use of y/n. I tried my best to proofread, but nobody's perfect. If you don’t like, don’t read, but if you do like, you’re my favorite!

Internal monologue is in italics and is in first person.

A/N: This one is incredibly fluffy and self-indulgent, let's be honest, all of my fics are and I'm not sorry. This chapter contains an absolutely cutesy scenario that I just had to write, so if you don't like anything like that then probably shouldn't read it :) If you love that kind of thing then ENJOY!

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“What the fuck is this place?” Ben asks in disbelief as he looks around the spacious lobby of the Brooklyn IKEA.

The smell of cinnamon buns, chocolate chip cookies, coffee, and Swedish meatballs wafts over the crowded lobby towards where the two of you stand just inside the welcoming large blue and yellow front doors. Light streams through the front windows tickling against your skin and spreading over the front tables where various displays of houseplants bask in the late afternoon sun. They stretch their leaves towards the sunlight, unfurling towards the light each in various shades of green, sitting in happy colored pots waiting to be picked up by the people who weave through the front lobby.

There were less here than at the plant shop of course, but there were still enough plants for you to feel the prickle of your powers beneath your skin and feel the plants begin to tilt towards you as they sense you enter the building.

“It’s IKEA. You’ve never been to IKEA before?” You say taking a step towards the display of snake plants, livening up a few that look like they could use a little love, feeling the gentle bend of their firm leaves straighten beneath your touch.

“I don’t know if you remember this or not Petals, but I haven’t exactly been out and about in forty years. And I have no idea why you’ve been here before.”

“Well I’ve never been to this exact location before, but there was one an hour away from where Annie and I grew up. There wasn’t much to do where we lived so we drove to that one. But that’s beside the point. IKEA was created in the 50’s which means you had thirty years to experience all of this.” You glance up at him mildly confused.

He could have at least heard of IKEA in the thirty years he had before he got taken to Russia.

“So? I’ve never been shopping for furniture. I just made Legend do that shit for me. I was saving the world. Didn’t have time to go picking out couches like a fucking pansy.” Ben frowns down at you.

“Really? You didn’t care what was in your apartment? You didn't want to test out a couch before you bought it?” You think about your vintage bedside table and carved wooden headboard that you found when thrifting with Annie one weekend. "I mean you had to look at it everyday."

Ben shrugs. “Wasn’t there too much. Really just needed the bed.“

"So you're telling me you're an IKEA virgin?" You gasp dramatically.

Ben quirks the end of his lips mildly amused. "Will you be gentle with me if I say yes?"

"I'll consider it." You shrug. "But then again it was you that said you liked it a little rough and that there was nothing gentle about you. So, I think you're just gonna have to put on your big boy pants and follow my lead."

"Baby I can't wait to show you just how big I-"

You roll your eyes and turn back to the plants that need your attention, interrupting the end of his sentence. "I really hope that whoever lives in your old apartment burned down the whole building and then rebuilt. Seems like the only way to purge what happened there in the bed you're so proud of.” You shudder trying hard not to think about what happened in Ben’s old apartment and say a prayer that the same thing won’t happen in yours.

Not in front of my plants, they're young and impressionable for fucks sake.

It had been three days since Ben and you had watched a movie on your couch and exactly two days after he’d moved all his stuff in from Butcher’s apartment. Stuff being a relative term because it was really just a large garbage bag filled with his clothes.

It made you feel even worse for him when he showed up at your front door with that, but you had cleaned out the linen closet and removed a few of the shelves inside it for Ben to use. It was a better alternative to him using your bedroom closet. The last thing you wanted was for him to come into your room at inopportune times.

The team had different reactions to finding out the two of you were living together. Butcher had mocked you endlessly, Frenchie and Kimiko had bought you a ridiculously skimpy, cheap, and tight set of lacy lingerie that looked more like dental floss than anything else, MM told you that you were making a mistake, Hughie was stunned, and Annie was annoying you without end.

Annie had begun to send you pictures of what Ben and your children would look like and you had retaliated by telling Hughie about the Fourth of July disaster that happened when you and Annie were sixteen. When Annie was in the cherry pie eating contest after deciding to partake in cheaply made moonshine her boyfriend, Dominic, had stolen from his dad and then vomited red froth all over her boyfriend when he tried to kiss her and made him throw up all over her.

You still couldn’t look at a cherry pie without gagging.

Unfortunately that just made the photos get more and more unhinged. The last one was a picture of a body builder standing in a green house with a baby’s face photoshopped on it.

You suspected that Hughie had something to do with that one. And as revenge, you sent Annie a picture of a baby with a light bulb photoshopped where its head should be.

But while sitting on your couch watching that ridiculous movie with Ben, you realized that if Ben was really going to move in you needed to get a bigger one, one that he could at least stretch out on without his legs hanging over the end and one that he wouldn't have to worry about falling off of if he moved more than a centimeter.

You and Ben had spent the morning driving around in Butcher’s car going from auto shop to auto shop trying to see if anyone knew anything about the supe, or had seen anything weird happen the nights the cars were jacked. None of the workers saw anything or had seemed suspicious of Ben and you asking questions. The owner of the last auto shop had said that one week ago someone had broken in and stolen some equipment, but the auto shop didn’t have any security cameras. Which meant you were back to square one.

You dreaded the call to Butcher, but when you walked out of the last auto shop you noticed tables and chairs being unloaded from a large truck and when you went over to ask what was going on, you found out that one of the representatives who was running for city comp troller in the next election was throwing a gala on Saturday night.

That meant that the streets would be lined with expensive cars, and you knew that was something the supe wouldn’t be able to pass up. Expensive cars in his neighborhood just waiting to be stripped. So now Butcher was making a plan for Saturday night and you were stuck with Ben.

But lately it hadn't felt like you were stuck with him. It felt different.

You were surprised that it had been three days and Ben and you hadn’t killed each other, in fact it was almost kind of nice. Yes he still annoyed the shit out of you and made comments about sleeping with him, but you were getting used to him being there when you got home. Not to mention he actually fixed a leak underneath the kitchen sink that you’d told the super about time and time again for the past four months with no reply.

You didn’t know that Ben knew how to do that kind of stuff. Figured that he never got his hands dirty, but then you’d seen him on his back under the sink with a newly purchased toolbox on the ground next to him. When you'd tried to tell him that you could call someone to do that, he'd waved you off and said that it was a man's job to fix things around the house. But that hadn't stopped you from sitting on the ground next to him and ask him exactly what he was doing so you knew how.

When you’d asked him why he needed to fix it so urgently, Ben said that the dripping was keeping him up at night and the duct tape that you’d put there was about as useful as a broken condom.

Of course it hadn't all been good. 

The closest you’d come to killing him was when he came home one night ago and Mike was in the hallway with you, desperately trying to find out how serious your and Ben’s relationship was. Ben had come up behind you, pulled you into him with a strong hand on your waist, while his other arm wrapped gently under your neck. and had begun to kiss up and down the column of your throat while whispering things loudly that even made Mike's cheeks flush a dark crimson. You wanted to choke Ben out while you desperately tried to ignore how good it felt to be in his arms, how his beard scratched pleasantly against your skin, and how nice and warm he was. Mike had gotten the message and retreated to his apartment and to retaliate you had a key made for Ben that was bright pink and had a picture of hello kitty on it.

But you hadn't been angry enough to abandon Ben this morning when he left the apartment to take out the trash and immediately got cornered by Mike's mother on the wall beside the elevator. You opened the front door of the apartment and saw him pinned to the wall with Mike's mother's hand on Ben's chest, tracing over his muscles while saying that he reminded her of her ex-husband who seemed to keep her up all night long. When his eyes met yours, it was the closest you'd ever seen to genuine fear, and it made you laugh, because you'd seen him face down supes without batting an eye, but he was afraid of a less than five foot tall woman in a bright yellow and green mumu. An evil part of yourself wanted to leave him there as payback, to shut the door and forget about him, but you figured you owed him for fixing your sink so you helped him get away.

"I haven't checked that, but if anything they should have immortalized that apartment for posterity." Ben grins widely, his eyes awash with memories of a past long gone. "Do you have any idea what I did to-"

"Ah- no-" You put your fingers in your ears. "La la la la la."

Ben pulls out one of your fingers. "You're right, I don't need to tell you. Why don't we go back to our apartment and I can show you?" He steps closer to you, his grin dipping into a roughish smirk that makes his eyes glint with mischief.

"Oh hush." You place one hand on his chest, ignoring how good it feels under his hands and push him back. "We're here to get a couch."

"Fine. But I've got the perfect way to christen it when we get back." Ben winks.

You stare blankly at him, feigning confusion. "I didn't know you wanted to learn how to crochet that bad, but I've got enough yarn to show you when we get back."

"What?"

"I mean that is what I usually do on the couch. But don't worry, it's a lot easier than it looks." You shrug before grabbing a snake plant in a brightly colored orange pot and place it in the top part of the cart. You didn't have one at the apartment and it was supposed to make the air cleaner. Given how much weed Ben smoked, you figured the two of you could use it.

Or maybe a whole damn field of it.

You had already made the jasmine on the wall behind the t.v multiply exponentially to make up for the smell, but you didn't mind it. You'd also noticed that Ben seemed to be slowing down how much he was smoking. Whenever you went to Butcher's apartment in the past he always had a blunt, but in the past three days you'd only seen him with one a few times. You wondered why that was. Ben had told you before that it helped him with his PTSD, but you wondered what could have changed.

“You’re getting another plant?”

“Never ask me that question Gramps, not unless you want to get an ass-full of cactus.” You push the cart towards the food area intent on getting a coffee. This morning the two of you had been in a hurry and you hadn't been able to have one.

“Hello! How are you today?” The person behind the counter says with a wide smile. She was pretty, with thick light brown hair pushed back by a floral scarf and a large pair of hoop earrings.

See she took her happy pills. Now if only Ben would.

“I’m great how are you?” You smile back.

“I’m doing fantastic!” She beams. “What can I get you today?”

“Can I get a hazelnut coffee with cream and sugar please?”

“Okay." Her eyes flick back to where Ben is glowering behind you. "Does your boyfriend want anything?”

“Oh he’s not my-“ You begin to wave a hand.

“Can I get a black coffee?” Ben interrupts not bothering to correct her.

“Of course. Y’all are so cute.” She smiles typing something into her register. “You’ve got that height difference and everything.”

“No actually we’re not tog-“ You begin to say again, but Ben weaves his arm around your waist.

“Thank you.” Ben gives her a charming smile as he pulls your right hip back into his left. “We just moved in together. It’s a really big step, but I just couldn’t stay away from my girl.”

“Congratulations!”  Her eyes shift to the plant in the basket. “Aww and you guys are getting a plant. How wonderful!”

“Yeah it’s our love plant.” Your smile turns more into a snarl as you reach up and pinch Ben’s cheeks painfully between your fingers hoping that it hurts. “I’m trying to see if Benny-Wenny here can keep it alive. Because if he doesn’t then our love will die.” You say doing your best Kate Hudson impression. When you say die you emphasize the word by squeezing his cheeks again, but Ben only smiles around it, his eyes gleaming.

“Oh um- okay.” The girls smile drops just a watt sensing the tension between the two of you. “Well your total is 10.78.”

You reach for your phone preparing to use the Apple Pay function, but Ben hands the girl a twenty before you can.

“Aww and he pays too.” The girl coos looking like she’s going to swoon. “What a gentleman.”

Honey he’s about as far from a gentleman as you can imagine.

“I’m certainly going to make him.” You reply, elbowing him hard in the stomach. “Given what I have to go through.” You mutter that last part, earning a chuckle from Ben.

When you finally get your coffee you walk off, following the arrows on the ground to where the sleeper couches should be while sipping on your coffee with Ben walking next to you.

A comfortable silence builds between the two of you as you walk through the aisles, watching couples hold hands and point at dining room tables, children beg their parents for bunk beds, and teenagers play hide and seek.

One brushes past you making some of your coffee slosh over the rim of the cup onto your shirt, and continues to run, but he doesn't get far. Ben grabs the back of his shirt and hauls him back.

"Apologize." Ben growls narrowing his eyes at the kid who looks like he might cry.

"Ben it's okay-"

"I'm sorry." The boy says his eyes wide.

Ben drops him, satisfied with his answer, and the boy scampers off to his friends who all look back at Ben like he's crazy.

"You didn't have to do that." You say, wiping your finger at the stain on your white and black striped t-shirt. "He's just a kid."

"He should have apologized." Ben grunts handing you the napkin that's wrapped around his coffee.

"Thanks." You dab at the spot, but you know it won't do much use.

"The younger generation these days seems short on respect."

You snort out a laugh, balling the napkin up and toss it in a trashcan nearby. "Statements like that really age you Gramps."

"So does that fucking nickname." He sighs.

"You never told me your real name when we first met and I told you that I was going to come up with a fun nickname to call you. You can only blame yourself." You take the last sip of coffee, stepping off the path to examine a bright red couch that looks long enough for Ben to sleep on.

"What's wrong?" Ben asks.

"Huh?" You look up at him.

"You're making the face you always do when something is wrong."

You blink for a minute. Is he talking about what Annie calls my 'suffer in silence face?' How the hell does he know about that?

"I don't like the color." You say hesitantly.

"I don't either." Ben takes your empty coffee cup and throws it away with his. "What about that one?" He points at a soft black couch on the other side. It has a function that allows apart of the cushions to extend into a bed, easy to move in and out. You sit down.

"It's sort of comfy."

Ben sits down directly beside you, even though there's enough room for him to sit on the other side. "It's okay."

"What? Your butt isn't comfortable?" You tease him, elbowing him playfully.

Ben rolls his eyes at you. "Can't you take anything seriously?"

"What's the fun in that Gramps?" You sit back against the cushions. "But you're right. My butt is not pleased."

"What a shame. I'd hate for something so delicious be disappointed." Ben replies turning to look at you.

You ignore his comment. "Come on, let's go check that one."

As you go deeper and deeper into the bowels of IKEA, it begins to get colder and colder. Goosebumps pebble over your arms as you gaze down at the charcoal colored couch. You rub your hands up and down them to warm them up.

Why is it so damn cold in here? It’s not that hot outside!

More goosebumps erupt over your skin as you walk around the couch thinking that movement will help with the chill. And just as you come back around to the front of the couch, Ben’s leather jacket  drapes over your shoulders.

It’s too big for you, but you almost moan in relief as you sink into the warmth it holds. It was still warmed from Ben's body, and smelled exactly like his cologne. Something spicy and masculine that made you feel like you’d bought one of those cinnamon brooms sold around Christmastime.

You look up at him in surprise. “What about you?”

“I run hot.” He shrugs. “Plus I don't want you to turn into a popsicle.”

“Thank you.” You say too cold to argue as you put your arms through the sleeves that hang several inches past your hands.

Wow that's actually kind of sweet.

“Mhmm.” He grunts looking at the couch in front of you. “Kinda a shame though.”

“Huh?”

Ben leans back to look behind you with a mournful sigh. “It covers up your gorgeous ass.”

And he’s back.

“Why don’t you just-“

“Y/n!” You hear a familiar voice call cutting off your next words, and you turn towards it.

Jake is wheeling a cart towards the two of you, a collection of ceramic pots in his basket, waving his hand enthusiastically. “What are you doing here?” He’s smiling just as brightly at you as always, his hair swept back over his head, blue eyes filled with mirth.

“Be nice.” You mutter under your breath to Ben, who huffs in response. “Hey Jake. Ben and I were just looking at couches.”

“Couches?” Jake takes in your close proximity and the fact that you’re wearing Ben’s jacket. “Why?”

“Oh well-“

“For our apartment.” Ben says tightly, emphasizing the word 'our.' He’s frowning at Jake, eyes narrowed.

Why does he have such a problem with him?

“You guys are moving in together?” Jake looks confused, and if he clocks Ben’s rude attitude he doesn’t show it. “I thought you said that you just work together?”

“Why do you care plant boy?” Ben snaps.

“Ben!” You hiss, elbowing him hard. “I’m sorry Jake, you’ll have to excuse Gramps, he’s not used to talking to civilized people.” You turn to glare at Ben. “Why don’t you go look at that couch over there?”

“I’m comfortable here, thanks Petals.”

You continue to glare at him while Jake stands there awkwardly not sure what to say.

“Fucking fine.” Ben mutters under his breath and stomps off in the direction of a bright yellow couch that looks like it could sleep five people.

You turn back to Jake with an apologetic smile. “I’m so sorry-“

“It’s okay.” Jake smiles. “My sister is dating someone just like him. I’m used to it.”

I doubt she’s dating a horny 104 year old that’s been on ice for forty years and tortured in a Russian lab.

“What are you doing here?” You look down at his cart noting the ceramic planters.

"They're having a sale, thought we could use some new ones for display in the shop." Jake shrugs. "I see that you found a plant you like."

"Well you can never have too many." You smile.

"I completely agree." Jake glances over to where Ben is supposed to be trying out a brilliant yellow couch, and he is sitting on it, but he's glaring at Jake. "Um, well I guess I'll see you at work on Monday?"

"Yep I'll be there."

"Oh actually-" Jake pauses to clear his throat. "There's a plant show this weekend at the farmer's market by my apartment on Saturday morning. Did you want to come with me? It might be fun."

"Oh-um- I'm not sure. Butcher might have something to do for me to do on Saturday. And I'm sure you're plenty capable of picking out inventory." You smile at that last part. It was true, Jake always did a wonderful job of picking out plants for the shop. He'd never asked you to go with him before.

"Actually-" Jake rubs the back of his neck, cheeks flushed. "I-uh- didn't mean for inv-"

"I don't like this one Petals." Ben shouts from the other side of the room interrupting what Jake was going to say.

You turn to stare at him. He's still sitting on the brilliant yellow couch, his arms crossed over his chest, glaring at Jake.

He's such a toddler, can't sit still for two seconds.

You sigh and twist back to Jake. "I'm sorry he's a literal child. What were you saying?"

"I-" Jake clears his throat, smiling tightly. His eyes flick back to Ben's cold stare, before he looks back at you. "Nevermind. I'll see you at work on Monday okay?"

"Yeah okay." You hold up your hand in a wave as he turns and leaves, walking quickly away down the concrete path towards the front doors.

You stomp over to the couch where Ben is still glowering at Jake.

"I like the gray one better." Ben stands and points at the one you two had originally been standing at when Jake walked up.

"I can't believe you just did that. Why did you have to be so mean? He was just being nice, making conversation." You huff, planting your hands on your hips. "You're from the fucking '20s aren't you supposed to understand basic human decency instead of acting like a modern day fuck-boy?"

"I don't understand what that means. And I don't like him."

"Why? What has he done to make you hate him? You've barely said two words to him since you met four days ago."

"I just don't." Ben frowns at Jake's retreating figure, who does seem to be gaining some serious speed.

You couldn't blame him, Ben could look downright murderous when he wanted to. But you didn't understand why he hated Jake so much, why he couldn't stand to be around him. Jake was polite and kind, yes, two things opposite of Ben, but Jake hadn't done anything to make Ben hate him. You'd been present at both of their interactions and Jake hadn't said anything mean let alone frowned at Ben.

"He's my boss. And if we're going to be seen in public together sometimes you're going to have to try to make an effort to be nicer to him."

"Why?"

"Because I need that job Gramps! Butcher's pay sucks, and I don't have a bank account that has been gaining interest for eighty years, not to mention any money from being a supe or staring in ridiculous films. And if he fires me because of you I will send a Terminator into the past to kill your child self!" You poke him in the chest angrily, before you walk back over to the gray couch to lift the price tag up.

You try not to wince. It was a little more than what you had been prepared for, but Ben actually liked this one and he would be the one using it the most. It felt selfish to deprive him of that, especially since he'd been sleeping in a tank for the past forty years.

Maybe we should just buy him a bed for the living room and make that his room. It would be cheaper and I wouldn't have to give up name brand things. Your cheeks flush for a moment, realizing if you did that, you’d have to sit on Ben’s bed to watch tv. Oh yeah he’d love that. He would make so many jokes about how he finally got me into bed with him. Why did I agree to let him live with me again?

Ben looks at the price over your shoulder, noticing your reaction. "Don't worry about it."

"What?" You glance up at him surprised.

"I'll pay for it." Ben didn't look like he was kidding, his green eyes were focused on you, an unreadable emotion hidden behind them that you'd seen only a few times before. It was the same one that he'd had just before you left Butcher's apartment four days ago, the one Ben had when you said you were going to walk home alone, and the one that was so different than the angry or aroused one he had when he looked at you.

"No." You shake your head. "Ben that's crazy, I'm going to pay for some of it. I sit on that couch too-"

"Sorry Petals. I'm not going to let you pay for my bed." Ben smirks, and strokes his finger down your cheek. "But I'd love to have you join me in it."

You glare at him, leaning back so his hand falls from your face. "Ben I'm serious. I don't want you to have to pay for the whole thing."

"And I don't want you to pay for it."

"So you're saying that we're at a stalemate unless one of us is willing to commit a felony?"

"Why are you so against me paying for this? Are you going to yell at me again about the wonders of modern day feminism? Let me know now so I can rip my ears off in preparation."

"First of all, the outside of the ear is actually purely for show and made of cartiledge which means for you to avoid listening to me you would have to rip out the inside of your ears." You drop the finger you were holding up. "And second of all, it feels wrong because I use the couch when I crochet or when Annie and I drink wine, eat greasy pizza, and watch monster movies-"

"You guys get drunk and watch monster movies? Aren't women supposed to like sappy shit like Jane Austen?"

"I mean I love Mr. Darcy as much as anyone, but I'm not ashamed to admit my comfort movie is Jurassic Park. Something about them running around for their lives makes me feel better about mine."

Especially now that I have to deal with you all day long.

Ben blinks at you like he can't figure you out. Personally you were used to people looking at you that way.Weirdness was a privilege and you owned it, wore it like an eccentric billionaire's wife in a mink coat in the middle of summer.

"Petals." Ben says quietly, the look in his eyes shifts to something softer, something that you'd never seen before. Even the way he says the nickname is different, not the harsh way he says it or the teasing way, it's almost gentle. "I don't want you to worry about this. It's alright. I'm the one that barged in and made you let me live there. So I'm going to pay for it."

You bite the inside of your cheek, trying not to feel guilty. "Are you sure you're even okay with a sleeper couch? We could just get you a mattress."

"Nah. This one is comfortable." He nods his head in the direction of the gray couch.

"So what you're saying is," You smile as wide as you can poking him. "Your butt was comfy on that couch!"

Ben rolls his eyes. "Come on let's go, before Jake comes back and tries to ask you out again."

"He was not trying to ask me out, he was just being friendly." You roll your eyes at him as you take a picture of the tag, trying not to let Ben get to you.

"I hate to break this to you Petals, but that's exactly what he was doing." He replies. "I told you that he wanted to fuck you." Ben almost sing-songs.

"No he wasn't." You stop for a minute, back straightening. "Wait. Is that why you interrupted him?" You turn around so that you're looking at Ben again. "Because you thought he was asking me out?"

Wait a minute, was he trying to get Jake to leave so he wouldn't ask me out. Is that why Ben hates him so much? Because he's jealous? There's no way-

"No." Ben says it immediately, jaw tightening.

"Holy Shit. You're jealous!" You cackle.

"No I'm not."

“Ben why are you jealous? We aren’t together. We aren’t having sex-“

“We could be! And I'm not jealous of that fucking dandy."

“I don’t understand why you’re so attached to the idea of us sleeping together.“

“And I don’t understand why you're pretending to be so against it.”

"I'm not pretending and I'm not going to get into this argument with you again." You say exaggerating your frown.

"Deny it all you want Petals, but I know your tell." His eyes flick to the scrunch between your eyebrows. "So grab your stupid plant and let's go." He turns and moves to follow the arrows on the ground out towards the exit.

"Ben I'm serious, why are you jealous?" You jog to catch up with him, the cart rolling smoothly against the concrete floors.

"I'm not and I'm done talking about this with you!"

"Uh-huh. Sure." You begin to prance behind the cart. "You're jealous! You loooovvveee meee." You tease him.

Ben whirls around so fast, bending down towards you so close you can feel his breath against your lips, the teasing mood in your veins quickly shifting to something else. You're suddenly thankful that you picked a plant that didn't have the possibility of producing flowers, because they would be in full bloom. The close proximity of Ben to you made it impossible to think, not when you were inhaling his hypnotic scent with every breath, and not when his lips were only inches from yours.

Ben's mouth pulls up in a smirk as his emerald gaze locks with yours. He's so close that you can see the soft cinnamon colored freckles flecked across his cheeks and see the circle of gold in his eyes that seems to make your knees weak.

"Love doesn't have anything to do with it, doesn't have anything to do with what I want to do to you." He breathes, his voice dropping into the deep rumble that makes everything else vanish away. "And I'm not jealous of him doll. Anything that he can do to you, I can do better, longer, and harder. You just say the word, and you won't even remember him, let alone remember your own name."

You can't find the words to reply, the memory of Ben kissing you is everywhere, crackling along your skin, thrumming in your veins, and buried in your bones.

"Now come on. I want to look at bookshelves." Ben pulls back with a wide smirk, hearing your heart beat begin to kick up.

"Wait what?" Your voice sounds small when you find it.

"Your stack of books is annoying me."

"What do you mean? You mean the stack of books in my bedroom that you're never supposed to set foot in is annoying you?"

"Mhmm."

"I am perfectly capable of buying my own bookshelf thank you."

"Then why haven't you?"

"Because I had more important things to do-"

Like paying for electricity and buying cat food.

"Uh-huh. Well I don't have anything to do because all my drinking buddies died forty fucking years ago."

"You're not serious. You're not going to buy me a bookshelf." You say in shock.

Why in the fuck does he care about that? It's my room, he doesn't have to do that.

"Yes I am. That stack of books is ridiculous and pointless."

"That could be the name of my autobiography." You roll your eyes. It was a joke that Annie and you often used when you hung out together. Because what was the point of life without a little bit of self-deprecating humor?

Ben stops walking and turns around to look at you. "You might be ridiculous Petals, but you're not pointless. Don't you ever say anything like that around me ever again." He looks almost angry at the thought.

You inhale a sharp breath surprised. "Ben I wasn't being serious it's just a joke. Annie and I-"

"I don't care." He's still frowning at you. "I don't want you to make that kind of joke around me okay?"

You can't respond to that, only nod.

I have no idea what is going on.

All day Ben had been surprising you, hell, when he moved in a few days ago he surprised you. He was acting like he actually gave a shit, not just that he wanted to sleep with you, but that he genuinely wanted to be apart of your life, almost like a friend. You knew that maybe it was ridiculous to think that, but something deep down made you think it was true. That Ben really was making an effort to be better around you. But you had no idea why.

"So I'm going to buy a bookshelf no matter what you say, and you can either tell me which one to get or I'm gonna get you the ugliest son of a bitch here." Ben says smiling. "What will it be?"

You stand there looking at him, still mildly surprised, until you point at a dark brown wooden bookshelf with glass doors.

"Good. Now let's get the fuck out of here, before I grow a pussy."

A/N: Life changing trip to IKEA, because why not? Again more fluff and domestic Ben, NOT ASHAMED. But I will say that there will be a buildup to more angst and drama in a few chapters that will move the story along. I promise I have a plan for this one. And that plan includes dark and angsty things because we all know I can't seem to escape that. 😭

Thank you so much for reading!! If you'd like to be added to my taglist please let me know :)

Taglist:

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@criminalyetminimal @52ndstreeet @bitchykittenconnoisseur @anna6307 @libby99hb

@faephoria @possiblyafangirl @jqtaro @quietlybitchy @tinydancer40

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@acciosherlockholmes @minas-fantasies

[ghostofhyuck]

Last Night

Monster! Lee Jeno x Town leader's daughter! reader

Summary: The full moon shines brightly tonight, and you could only hold your breath. Tonight’s the last night of bringing an offer to the monster that guards your town. Tomorrow, you’ll be free from it. Hopefully.

Word count: 3.5k

TW: Contains profanity, mention of blood, weird old traditions lol, and violence. Read at your own risk. 

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

The sun’s peaking through the tall trees. There’s nothing to be heard but the stream of the river running deeply against the current. There were birds chirping, and soft winds that bristled against the leaves. 

You never felt this peace in your life. You could only close your eyes as you lean closer to his bare chest, giving you more security when you feel his arms wrapping around your shoulders. 

“It’s nearing dark,” Mark announced. Eyes dazed at the sky. It’s slowly turning golden and orange. 

“No it’s not,” you told him. “The night won’t come until later, it’s the full moon after all.”

“Aren’t you scared?” he asked, making you open your eyes. 

“Why would I be scared? I’ve been doing this since I was sixteen,” you said, gently cupping his cheeks. “Plus, we’re getting married next month, I’m finally free from the tradition.” 

You saw how Mark’s jaw slacked, as if guilt is eating him up. “I know but, you know the tradition says that —” 

“ — only pure women can offer the sacrifice, that’s nonsense Mark. We’ve kissed and you’ve touched every part of my body, I’m already impure and yet, the monster still accepts the sacrifice.”

Mark became quiet for a minute. He knows that what you two have been doing is wrong. He can’t help but feel responsible for tainting you, for succumbing to his desire that he touched the only girl in his town that he’s not allowed to be. 

“Mark seriously,” you said with an angry tone. “There’s nothing to be afraid of the monster, it doesn’t exist.” 

“Don’t say that!” he answered with a panicked tone. “What if they’re out here lurking?” 

“Well, if they’re lurking around, we should’ve been dead months ago,” you convinced him. 

You grew up in a small town that has its own customs and traditions. It has its own god and that god is in the form of a monster. The legend says that originally, the monster ruled the world, but was merciful enough to let your ancestors build a life and civilization on its land. 

In order to appease the monster, every month during the full moon, the village is to offer it a sacrifice. A month old lamb that will be brought by a pure and virgin girl. This is to give the monster clean food so that it won’t come raiding the village. No one has ever come face to face with the monster, and everyone is convinced that they’re out in the woods, lurking, waiting for its meal to be brought by the townspeople. 

You’ve been doing it since you were sixteen. Your ancestors are one of the people who built civilization, they’re the ones who made the deal with the monsters which end you up in your situation. 

You’ve been doing it, your mom did it when she was your age, so did your grandmother and perhaps your great-grandmother too. It was a sacred tradition that you couldn’t escape from. You’ve been trained to be pure ever since you were born. You weren’t allowed to be touched, wounded, and not even a scratch. You must remain clean all the time that you are to bathe twice a day, and thrice when the full moon arrives.

And by the time you’re at the right age of being an adult, you are allowed to be wed but only to a man with pure intentions. That’s why you are arranged to Mark Lee, the pastor’s son. You know Mark ever since you two were kids, and you knew right from there that he is to be your husband. 

Despite doing the tradition since you were sixteen, you think that the monster is just a myth, and perhaps the sacrifices you leave in front of the offering stone were stolen by villagers or run free. That’s why they don’t know that you have no intention of remaining pure. You even dragged Mark into the mess, seducing him to taint you with his desires. You wanted to prove to everyone that the tradition is useless, and there are no monsters lurking around the woods. 

Your little affair with Mark has been going on for months, meeting each other behind closed doors, or running into the woods for your escapades with him. Away from the prying villagers, and the suffocating tradition that has been weighing you. Deep in the woods, it’s just you and Mark, feeling the euphoria of being romanced.

And the many times you offered the sacrifice, nothing happened to you nor the villagers. You’re more convinced that the monster doesn’t really exist at all. A case of religious fantasies and false idolatry. 

“We should return now, father will be suspicious of my disappearance,” Mark said, standing up first. You only watch as he begins dressing himself while you lay there naked, a few parts of your body covered with the blanket he had provided. 

You only let out a sigh, you preferred to just stay in the woods naked and alone rather than to return to the village. But you have no choice, as much as you want to rebel against the townspeople, you still care enough to not harm Mark further. 

“Yn please,” Mark said before placing down your dress in front of you. “This is the last time you’ll be doing this. When tomorrow comes, you’ll be free from it.” 

You only gave him a stare, before nodding. He was right. After this, all the burden will be lifted up. The town's leader will pick a new, younger, and pure girl to bring the sacrifice. You’ll be free from the tradition, and will spend the remaining days of your life as a housewife. 

“You go first Mark, it might be suspicious if we return together,” you convinced. 

Before Mark leaves, he kneels in front of you and seals you with a kiss. He gently brushes your hair making you smile. 

“Go now! It’ll be nearing dark now,” you only laughed. Mark stands up one last time, waves at you, and leaves the wood. 

That was your cue to stand up to fasten your dress. As soon as you finished tying up your boots, you folded the blankets and mat that you brought. Tugging it underneath your arms, you looked around your area. It was oddly quiet but at the same time tranquil. 

You only let out a small smile as you walked away from the area, thinking that the wood looks so peaceful to be a home for the monster. 

The moment you returned to your house, you were stripped naked by your mother who only nagged you for lurking out to the woods once again. Your mother has disliked the idea of you being a rebel. You should be prim and proper, only an indoor girl and practicing on how to be a good housewife, but you’re out there searching for an adventure in the woods. 

“And if you encounter the monster!? What then of you!?” she nags as she wipes your body away from the dirt you’ve collected. 

You didn’t answer her, best to know that you’ll end up being blasphemous if you talked about the monster. 

After taking a bath, your mother poured oil and fragrance all over your body. It has the smell of wild flowers and wisteria that kills through your nose. You only remained quiet as your mother attempted to pull the strings tighter on your corset’s dress. It was a white sleeved dress that became short for you since you’ve been wearing it since you were sixteen. You only let out a sigh as your mother forces you to close the corset. 

“It shows her skin,” your mother complains to your grandmother. Your back is almost exposed and it can be scandalous to be seen. 

“It happens, she’s already twenty-one, it’s bound for her to grow out of it,” your grandmother casually said. “Don’t tighten it too much, if it leaves a mark on her skin, we’ll be dead.” 

You exhaled loudly as you felt it loosen. It ends with your mother tying it in a small knot. You watched as your grandmother brushed your hair gently, letting your hair be free. 

The preparation was interrupted by a knock on the door, your father and grandfather entered the house, giving you a small smile in which you reciprocated. 

“My dear you look like a flower,” your father said, grabbing something from his coat — a crown of white daisies, your favorite flower. You only lower your head as your father placed it on top of your head. 

“I helped pick the flowers!” your younger sister interrupted, making you laugh. 

“Well, it looks lovely, thank you.” 

“Continue the conversation later,” your grandfather said with a serious tone. “The full moon is here.” 

Hurriedly, you and your family left the house. As you reached the town center, you noticed the townspeople awaiting for you. Holding torches and candles that serve as the light for your path. As you stood there, your father approached the man holding the month old lamb, it let out a terrified squeal, shaking as your father held firmly to it. You stared at the crowd and noticed Mark from afar along with his family, he offered you a smile making you less tense. 

You hold onto the lamb gently, it didn't budge anymore when you touched it. It was in a calm demeanor just like the other lambs that you offered. You only let out a sigh as you began walking towards the path to the woods, you can hear the choir singing and humming a sacred song that is supposed to be the monster’s lullaby. 

As you reached the entrance of the wood — the same entrance where you enter for your affair, you couldn’t help but to be in daze at it. Compared to its peaceful atmosphere during daytime, it was nothing but eerie during night time. All you can see is pitch black and cold winds trailing goosebumps on your body. 

But this is the last time that you’ll stare at the void inside the woods, as you look up to the sky, the moon is in its gleaming whole. It’s full, and beaming with light. Shining through the stone where you’ll place the lamb gently. 

You kneeled in front of the stone, laying the lamb gently who only lifted it head to you, you only smiled at it as you grabbed the rope and tied it in order to not escape. 

As you stood up, you couldn’t help but to be frozen from where you were standing. Your eyes locked in the woods.

Eyes. a pair of eyes, dark red staring directly at your soul. It’s far from you and yet, it feels like it’s just in front of you. 

You couldn’t help but to take a step back. Could it be? The monster you thought was a myth? But the longer you two hold a staring contest, it doesn't move a muscle. It was just there, staring at you. If it had the opportunity, it would’ve killed you right there.

So slowly, you took a step back. One, two, three, and finally, you turned around and walked your way back. Not even attempting to turn around to look back into the woods. 

When you returned to the entrance of the town where everyone was waiting. You were welcomed by your father’s hug — the first time he ever did it to you. 

“I’m so happy for you dear,” your father whispered.

“Thank you father,” you only said. Closing your eyes as you hugged your father back, longing to feel this moment. 

As the commotion lowers down, with the townspeople returning to the town, your father only shakes your shoulder as a pat on you. 

“You were there longer than usual, did something happen?” 

You shuddered at his answer. For a second, your head instinctively turned around in the woods. 

“Nothing, I just want to have a short moment, it’s my last time doing it after all,” you lied. 

-

Your morning was awakened by a huge commotion. 

You left your room as you heard the doors banging. It was the same thing that woke your whole family. 

“Where is she!? It’s all her fault!” Mark’s father, the town’s pastor, barged into your house angry. 

And before he lay his hands at you, your father was able to take a hold on him. Your mother instinctively covered for you. 

“What’s the meaning of this!?” your father shouts. 

As you take a peek from behind, you notice Mark who only shakes his head. You didn’t understand what he was trying to say — then it hit you. 

Did he tell his father?

You were prepared to defend yourself when the pastor interrupted first. 

“The lamb is slaughtered, right there in the stone! Left with trails of daisies,” he explained. “What did you do!?”

“Don’t you accuse my daughter of anything sinful!” your father defended. 

“Do you know what it means when they don’t accept the sacrifice? They’ll place a curse in this land!”

You became quiet. You were completely clueless. It means that your secrets are safe, and that your impurity didn’t mean anything to what just happened last night. Then you remember something, the pair of eyes that stared at your soul. 

“What do you want me to do!?” your father shouted angrily.

“I say, we sacrifice her instead!”

“Father you can’t do that!” Mark jumps in, but his father was quick to push him away.

“He is no longer your bride son, the monster wants her,” the pastor said with gritted teeth.

“No, not her please, dear something!” your mother shouted, begging at your father who was only quiet. 

“Father, you’re not going to agree with him, aren’t you?” you asked softly. You touched your father’s hand but he removed it quickly. 

You couldn’t help but to become nervous. He’s quietly pondering about it, and you know that as one of the town’s leaders, he also has to prioritize his people’s safety. 

“No. no, no, you can’t do this to me!” you shouted, realizing what your father’s silence meant. 

“It’s for the best dear,” your father muttered. 

“No, fuck you! Fuck all of you! The monster doesn’t even exist! The tradition’s useless!” you shouted in rage, your mother tried to hold on you but you tried to escape until it took a few of your family members to calm you down. 

“Bring her there!” the pastor ordered and immediately, you were dragged outside your house. The townspeople watched the scene, some were confused, some were hopeful — that you can appease the monster from cursing the town. 

Tears poured down as they dragged you back to the wood. Dirt scraping against your legs and nightgown. You were a mess, like a mad woman who was about to be burned with fire. You tried to escape from their hold but they were too strong for your weary body. As you reached the stone, you saw nothing but blood and the disfigured body of the lamb. It doesn’t look like the monster ate it, but more of destroying it out of rage. And just like what the pastor has described — there’s daisies scattered on its insides. 

You felt your legs tied by your family, you only sob quietly as you were left there helpless. One by one, they left until it was just you and your father there. 

“Father please,” you begged one last time. 

“Let’s just hope that all of this isn’t true,” your father said with a sad tone. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You hope that tomorrow may still happen to you. There’s no use of escaping for you, the knot on your feet was too tight for you to even struggle. Because of that, you only drop dead on the floor as all the rage and crying wore you out. Feeling the soft green gas tickling your cheeks while the morning sun accompanies you. With that, you closed your eyes slowly. 

The day passed quickly. You only stood there as the moon rose slowly. The once familiar woods slowly dipped into the darkness, the void that you used to see every month. You can feel your heart beating, preparing yourself for the monster that will offer you your death. 

And as if your wishes came true, you saw a pair of red eyes once again. Intimidated, you take a step back as it moves slowly, going near and near to you. The more it becomes closer, you take a step back. Unknowingly, the rope pulls you back, making you lose your balance as you fall flat on the ground. 

You cursed under your breath as from the shadow, the monster slowly crept out into the night’s light. Your eyes went wide. 

They never taught about the figure of the monster. About its identity nor what it looks like. Throughout your life, all you know is that it's a monster who lurks around the woods. 

But the creature in front of you is no monster, hell he can even be a god with his figure. The monster who’s form is a man, who’s body is as if the gods carved themselves so that your people can worship him. And oh his face, it’s no horror at all. Even the goddess of beauty would be envious of his face

Still, he’s a monster despite his looks. You can sense his aura all over him. It’s scary and intimidating, he looks like he’s about to devour you any minute. 

“They understood what I wanted,” he said. You were surprised by his deep voice and the fact that he speaks your language.

“No,” you said, standing up to show him that you’re not afraid. 

Jeno laughed. “No? Maybe you don’t understand that the moment you’re standing in the stone, you’re mine already.” 

“Have you heard of it? I’m impure, a man had already touched me,” you taunted back. 

“What makes you think that I care about you being pure?” he said, taking a step forward until he’s just an inch closer to you. You can see his gaze darkened as he examines you. Grabbing your face to make you look at him. 

“I’ve watched you and that boy do it in my lair, aren’t you scandalized about yourself?” he mocked. “You were so perfect, and always thought of the taste of you.” 

You let out a painful scream as his sharp fingernails pressed against your cheeks, scratching it deeply enough for blood to drip. 

Jeno lets go of you, licking the blood trailing on his fingers while his eyes remain at you. 

“I am right, you’re sweet after all,” he said. 

“I will never go with you,” you stated. “I don’t care if you’re the monster and I don’t care if you curse my town. I will never let myself be a sacrifice.” 

And in a split second, you raised the sharp stone you found earlier. You were about to stab it on your chest area when Jeno’s hands were swifter than yours, your eyes wide as he grips onto it tightly enough for the sharp area to sink into the palm of your hand. You could only whine as the pain slowly trailed onto your nerves.

“I dare you to disobey me and you’ll face my wrath,” Jeno warned. “I can kill you right here at any second I want. I can curse the town too, and maybe they can offer me a younger girl who’s actually pure enough to satisfy me. I wonder who will be their offer. Perhaps your younger sister?”

You stopped when he mentioned your younger sister. No. Not her. She wasn't prepared to be part of the tradition, and she’s only twelve. No. Anyone but your younger sister. 

“No! Please, please not her!” you begged. Knees dropping for mercy. Your tears began to stream as you tried to be in the mercy of Jeno, who only stood there. You were so hard-headed earlier but look at how you immediately fold when he mentioned your sibling. 

You felt his cold hands brushing your hair gently, tucking it behind your ears. As you raise your head, you’ve come in contact with the eyes that stared at you last night. You can feel your heart beating fast. You were afraid of what he’ll do next. 

“There’s no need for you to cry, I’ll take good care of you.” Jeno whispered, gently wiping the tears off your face. You were frozen by his actions. It wasn’t as if he’s the reason why you’re bleeding on your cheeks and palms. 

But you became more dazed when his lips made contact with yours. It was aggressive, full of desire to taste you. You let out a small whine as his sharp fangs bite your lower lip, even sucking it in the process. As he breaks away from you, you watch as he licks his lips. Slowly, his hands wipe off the trail on yours. 

“You’re mine forever.” 

Jeno unties the rope on your feet. And before you could even take a step, he’s already carrying you. His arms around your thighs and shoulders. He glanced at you one last time before he started walking back to the woods, darkness slowly devouring both of you.

[thecupidwitch]

Anzar (ⴰⵏⵥⴰⵕ): Amazigh God’s Of Rain

Introduction:

Like in Greece or Egypt, pre-Islamic Amazigh people across North Africa also had their own mythology, gods, rituals and sacrifices. Anzar was god of the sky, waters, rivers, seas, streams and springs and rain. "Anzar" is an amazigh world that mean "rain", he also has others names such as Agellid n Ugeffur (King of the Rain) Agellid n Waman (King of the Water) and Agellid Anzar (King Anzar) among others.

The God Anzar is with no doubt of particular importance in the beliefs of the Amazigh people since antiquity, as he is the personification of rain itself. Ambivalent in nature, tyrannical, ruthless yet vital and essential just like rainfall, his tradition has came down to us thanks to the ancient fertility rites of "Tislit n Anzar" still practiced today in some Amazigh regions and villages. Sadly over the decades these ancient festivals receded and came to disappear almost completely due to religious zealotry and fanatism denouncing native pre-islamic traditions as despicable pagan rites.

The Myth:

According to oral folklore and poems:

There was once a time where gods took human forms, a powerful Sky God named Anzar; Master of the rain, water, seas, clouds and thunder fell madly in love with a beautiful peasant girl of marvellous beauty. She shone like a full moon on the water. Her face was resplendent and luminescent, her clothing of gittering silk. She was accustomed to bathe in a river of silver reflection every night. Transforming into a giant eagle he came to contemplate her everytime ; one day he spoke to her and asked her to marry him. But the frightened girl refused his request and fled, she would shy way from fear everytime the Master of rain approached her.

This rejection made Anzar so furious and angry that lands and crops started to be turned into piles of dust, famine was imminent as it would have ended up affecting the herds, cattle, the rivers, lakes and all the essential resources for the survival of the tribes. But Anzar didn't give up hope of seducing the woman he wanted most. And he threatened her;

- "Like the thunder I have split the immensity of the sky, O You, Star brighter than the sun itself, lend me your treasures, or otherwise I will deprive you from this water!"

The beautiful woman, frightened and in complete shock responded to him;

- "I beg you, Master of the skies, of coral crowned head. I know we were made for each other... but I fear the wrath of my people and what they will say..."

With these words the rain God abruptly disappeared once again and turned the ring he wore on his finger to make the entire river she bathed in suddenly dry up.

Out of desperation and fear for her people, the girl fell to the ground in sadness, and began to call out for Anzar as she bursted into tears. She remained naked as she stripped off her silk dress, and then cried to the sky:

- "O Anzar, O Anzar! O You, blossoming of the meadows! Let the rivers flow again, and come take your revenge!"

The latter suddenly appeared in the shape of an immense lightning, he took her and hugged the young girl tightly against him. After that they flew across the sky and all the rivers across the country began to flow again as the whole earth was covered with lush greenery.

With this romantic and supernatural ending, this myth comes to an end, which gave rise to an ancient ritual. Berber tribes began to symbolically sacrifice a virgin girl by offering her in a nuptial ceremony during any time of drought to summon Anzar, ask for his help and call for rain. Since then, every time after it rains, the legend says that Tarenza appears in the sky, in the form of a rainbow. She sacrificed herself for the greater good of humanity and left her people to become an immortal entity who spreads her iridescent colours across the sky after the fertilizing rainfall. Nowadays in the Amazigh language, 'Tislit n Anzar' simply means 'rainbow'.

The ancient ritual was based on five main steps:

In early autumn during the plowing period, take the most beautiful girl in the city, prepare her and addorn her of the most expensive and luxurious bridal jewelries and clothings.

Villagers have to organize processions and accompany her to the doors of the sanctuary or temple with an escort of women standing on the threshold to spray holy water on her.

Offer the ritual sacrifices (food, candles etc) in the sanctuary.

After having undressed the bride, go around the sanctuary 7 times begging and praising Anzar, and as the women sing, dance and praise Anzar, the young girls all have to play a game before dusk named Zerzari in which the ball is supposed to fall into a hole undergound prepared for the ritual.

Make a somptuous meal (generally chicken couscous) to share with the all the people in the village. One can be sure that a few days after the celebration of Anzar, the rain will begin to fall again.

This sacred ritual has survived to some extent and has taken different forms all across North Africa. The ritualistic ladle which now bears the common name of Tarenza, Ronja or Tarundja depending on the region, is always dressed as a bride and is worn by women in a parade all across the village or a nearby sacred mountain, while all singing for the God of rain to bring good harvests.

Several observations and accounts suggest that the current ladle doll is only a simulacrum and parody intended to replace the real original bride offered to Anzar. As it is stated that originally women were supposed to offer themselves completely naked to the Sky God. With the arrival of Islam in the 7th century, such traditions couldn't be tolerated and by then the practice changed and adapted to better suit the new religion. Since then the wooden ladle or spoon now called 'Tarenza' represents the coming of holy waters.

*Sources: [x] [x] [x]

Tip Jar

[simplegenius042]

Music Monday & OCs as "Patron Saints of..." Quiz

Tagged by the lovely @inafieldofdaisies @voidika and @cloudofbutterflies92

Tagging @imogenkol @josephseedismyfather @direwombat @noodlecupcakes @socially-awkward-skeleton @adelaidedrubman @hollywood-is-bleeding @derelictheretic @cassietrn @aceghosts @icecutioner @shallow-gravy @strangefable @statichvm @carlosoliveiraa @g0dspeeed @wrathfulrook @starsandskies @ladyoriza @la-grosse-patate @thewanderer-000 @omen-speaker @alypink @shellibisshe @josephslittledeputy @skoll-sun-eater @afarcryfrommymain @strafethesesinners @turbo-virgins @florbelles @minilev @justasmolbard @softtidesworld @yokobai and @seedsplease + anyone else who want to join.

Music Monday for The UnTitledverse, Wings And Horns WIP and A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore, and OC quiz results for OCs from The Silver Chronicles and Life, Despair & Monsters. You can find the Quiz here and enjoy listening/reading below the cut:

Remember how I said Lena would be uncovering skeletons from Fazbear Entertainment's closet in my Five Nights at Freddy's WIP More Than Bargained For?. Well, the corpses of children stuffed in animatronics after being murdered by a serial-killing co-founder isn't the only think she discovers; Lena, with the guidance of one "Mike Schmidt", she also uncovers a history of tragedies surrounding one family feud in a house full of nightmares and a forgotten rental service too. Unbeknownst to the young Elliot woman, she is inadvertently aiding Mike under the company's untold policy of "Paragraph 4", with the intent of bringing all Fazbear-related animatronics back to one ultimate pizzeria. What could possibly go wrong?:

"There is a legend A legend born long ago About a wicked A wicked man no one knows Went and unraveled Six innocent little souls

Those souls found bodies The bodies started to move Some say they still walk Walk the halls, staying from view

I got a secret that I am here to tell you That place is this very place And all the stories are true

This world's a scary place We're not monsters, just changed Bigger hands for grabbing ahold We were lost to foul play But we got an upgrade Lots more teeth for eating you whole

Here comes another chapter Your heart is beating faster Because you're the one we're after Five Nights at Freddy's 4 Thank you for bringing us home

We were just like you Like you, just playing a game That's when the wicked Wicked man lead us astray Without a warning Our lives have been rearranged

As for our story The story's not over yet There's still one secret One secret left to be said

Tonight when you are Safely tucked into your bed Close all the doors that you want We're already in your head

This world's a scary place We're not monsters, just changed Bigger hands for grabbing ahold We were lost to foul play But we got an upgrade Lots more teeth for eating you whole

Here comes another chapter Your heart is beating faster Because you're the one we're after Five Nights at Freddy's 4 Thank you for bringing us home

Thank you for bringing us home

Here comes another chapter Your heart is beating faster Because you're the one we're after Five Nights at Freddy's 4 Thank you for bringing us home

Thank you for bringing us home

Thank you for bringing us home

Thank you for bringing us home!"

Now on one hand, I don't initially believe this song actually fits my Wings And Horns WIP. However, on the other hand, in relation to Jezebel Ba'al's story (and maybe a bit of Cadet Azriel's too, being the implied soul of a particular bearded cult leader's dead daughter and all, plus committing to her service as an Angel of Death just so she can finally reach reincarnation), I think this can fit within the context of a story that's centered around the pros and cons of living in a world where a divine system like the Soulmate System exists, especially when you have two young characters like Azriel and Jezebel, the former hearing nothing but good things about having a Soulmate while the latter (and other's like her) have been directly harmed by the system's flawed structure, and how both are influenced by their well-meaning if extreme father/authority figures:

"Down the rabbit hole, we saw you come in Through the glass of our cages chained up where we live Where we live Please don't be afraid We're a little bent Broken souls looking for a way to start again Start again

How can we ever be free When our prison is skin deep Left to rot* underneath Buried us down below so no one sees Daddy's little monsters

Listen to the voice keeping you alive You need us, we need you, it'll be alright Yeah, it's alright We don't wanna stay under lock and key You can help break the curse, we all wanna live** Wanna live**

How can we ever be free When our prison is skin deep Left to rot* underneath Buried us down below so no one sees Daddy's little monsters!"

[*Given rust is more for metal, rot fits well enough for both physical flesh and the "soul flesh" that Cadet Azriel and Jezebel have both experienced. **I used "live" instead of "leave" because even... well... the latter doesn't really make much sense in this context, while the former can be interpreted as Jezebel saying "we all want to live our lives without being it being predestined for us" especially with out trapping being fated to a soulmate can be (especially for the likes of Jezebel whose experienced a bad fating, and Azriel wants to be reincarnated so she can live again, but not be stuck in a similar fate to Jezebel if she gets the chance of rebirth, so at this point, here is where Azriel's opinion on the Soulmate System begins to shift].

In the unnamed Fallout 2 WIP from my A Radioactive Calamity Of Love, Bombs & Gore series, Ore returns to California (where last time he was there, his father Arcane Urias had mutilated his face after Ore declined joining him on his quest of human destruction) after exploring the Wastelands a bit more and to say goodbye to a good friend. However, instead he not only meets his friend's granddaughter Finidy Mona, but also finds evidence that his father has returned in the area. He decides to partner up with Finidy to help him track down and kill his father to stop him and his nefarious deeds by retracing his steps from Shady Sands to New Reno. This also relates to how, chronologically timeline-wise, this WIP is the last prequel of sorts and closing the chapter on Ore's story in California plus Urias and Talos' origins before the focus goes onto Ress.

"You set the stage all by yourself You have a job, do it well And play your part to host their final farewell

An event Just like the first time Put to rest Their souls tonight

It's going back, back, back, back They've been through this before It's going back, back, back, back The final page of the lore The sound of cheer, the need for fear The souls of the kids are free Rewind the tears

It's going back, back, back, back Back, back, back, back, back Back, back, back, back, back Back, back, back, back, back It's going-!"

Now for the quiz results for OCs from my The Silver Chronicles and Life, Despair & Monsters series. Most of these will likely be unfamiliar to you guys:

HUNTRESS CAROLINE JÄGER (THE SILVER CHRONICLES [BLOODBORNE])

Pretty accurate given the ending she gets. Unafraid to face what others refused to see, and too stubborn to look away from it. If it's something she could fix, then the Horrors be damned. Is it a shame, though, if it meant she could no longer wake up from such a terrible, horrible dream, if just to get a glimpse of the rising sun?

HUNTER TOBIAS JÄGER (THE SILVER CHRONICLES [BLOODBORNE])

How different these two are; the sister transcends to something new and unfamiliar, but here, the brother holds onto what made sense and what was once precious to him, even if holding on stops him from moving forward. And all he has to show for it is a fragment of what he lost.

DARKBEAST CONSTANCE (THE SILVER CHRONICLES [BLOODBORNE])

No matter how much he boasts about being true to Yahar'gul's ideals, he is still a lesser man than he is a true beast.

LOGAN THE VAGABOND OF NO RENOWN (THE SILVER CHRONICLES [ELDEN RING])

Fucking poetic considering what he does and who comes crawling out of it. While Logan is an unpleasant and selfish person, he himself becomes a vessel for all the good things he'll pass on to his successor; someone that will succeed against the destined odds where he and everyone else failed.

RICO (LIFE, DESPAIR & MONSTERS [CYBERPUNK 2077])

Staying in Night City (whether it be for the guy you were always at the beck and call of, not just out of loyalty and idealism, but genuine love, even if he didn't necessarily share the same love you felt and eventually became a stranger to you, or for the mentored young woman you see so much life coursing through her veins within a city as horrid as NC, and also see so much of yourself and the other in, yet is cruelly destined for far less than she deserves and spends that little time with others that aren't you, knowing this goodbye is the last goodbye you'll ever make as she leaves behind everything for those final months of something better... or maybe you stay because it's all you've ever known and believe you'll be useful in) does not have much benefits.

LORA (LIFE, DESPAIR & MONSTERS [ARCANE: LEAGUE OF LEGENDS])

Ever wonder if, in spite of how much you try, you're just destined to be alone? Lora chases after something things that won't ever leave her fulfilled or satisfied. In the end it's this that dooms her to solitude.

[potheadkiki]

hey legend!! im fiending for shiggy right now oh lordd uhm would you right female chubby (maybe black too, lightskin) reader x shigaraki?? i loveeee that loser so much ugh. uhm i dont mind the roles honestly. top bottom switch whatever youd like to do. but i want him to be like such a begger and praiser if you will. thanks lovey!

Pretty girl

⚠Warming⚠

Virgin shiggy

Praise kink

Toma being kind of a sub

Kinda gentle sex

Under the impression his personality type is ISTP

Cumming in pants 🥳

I apologize for the wait. Some things have been going on in my personal life.

I'm thinking shiggy who has never felt the touch of a woman until he meets a barista who's only ability to negate any other ability that touches her...meaning shiggy can feel her, touch her, fuck her, without hurting her and that's not something he's willing to give up

You met Shigaraki while you were working at the cafe down the street from his hideout. He had never seen you before but he wanted you the second he saw you. You were beautiful, most likely a foreigner, the way your skin glowed when the sun hit it, your apron hugging your plush figure perfectly,he was hypothesized he needed to get to know you, so when he figures out what your quirk is simply known as "negating" so whenever someone with a quirk touches you it becomes negated no longer working. One thing led to another and he asked you out which you happily agreed to even knowing his secret which never affected how you felt for him, you have however scolded him for his obsession of the kids at UA. So here you are at the hideout relaxing on his bed as he plays video games. You guys have been going steady for a couple of months both being rather inexperienced when it comes to relationships and chose to take things slow but you wanted to be with him physically, you could be it wasn't like he could hurt you with his quirk even if he wanted to.

Deciding to finally seduce your boyfriend you realized things had to be perfect and since he's currently distracted with his game you decided now would be the best time, walking over to your closet and grabbing a plastic bag then walking over and kissing his cheek telling him that you've got to use the bathroom and that you'll be back in a minute with a surprise. You see as one of his eyebrows raise and his mouth opens but you walk away making your way to your shared bathroom, changing quickly into a simple set of lingerie which consists of a simple mesh bra, pair of panties with a similar material and design along with two garter belts that wrap around your thighs and clip to the panties, once dressed you look at yourself in the mirror pleased with what you see, running your hands down your body to smooth out any wrinkles. Opening the door and clearing your throat to get his attention, which you do successfully watching him turn his gaming chair to face you, a shy smile paints your face as you place your arms behind your back

"So what do you think? Like your surprise?" You say as you give a twirl, stopping in front of him as you place your arms behind your back and slightly sway your body in a seductive manor all with a smile on your face. Seeing the blush envelopes his face in second

"Change of plans, I gotta hope off guys something important just came up" he says as he takes his headset off and exits the game turning his PC off. Turning in his chair he looks at you again but this time he really looks, analyzing the way your tits slip out from your bra, you can see as his mouth opens to say something but instead he just closes his mouth again and gulps, smiling

"Speechless? I just thought that since we've been together long enough it was time to you know..." You say looking down shyly before continuing

"And besides I want my handsome boyfriend to know I'm very attracted to him" you say walking over to him standing between his legs before planting yourself on his lap. His hands instinctively go to your hips, groaning at the weight on his crotch, there's a shy smile on his face as you kiss his cheek

"I-I you look good" he says gulping, avoiding eye contact but that just makes your smile grow more and your heart beat faster. God you're in love with this man. Adjusting yourself on his lap, hearing him groan again as you realize what you've done you do it again, and again, beginning to grind on his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and running your fingers through his hair gently tugging it, kissing him passionately, the feeling of his arms wrapping tight around you, the feel of his hands on your lower back as he guides your hips. You honestly don't even think he knows he's doing it but damn does it feel good. Pulling away to catch your breath you feel as he stops your movements, head slightly rolling back

"Fuck baby, I don't wanna cum in my pants" he says shyly looking away but you giggle

"It's okay baby I get it. Very flattering though" you say standing up kissing his cheek as you grab his hand making him stand up and follow you to the bed. Turning your back to him climbing into bed seductively swaying your hips to give him a little show. Once reaching the top of the bed you turn around planting yourself against the headboard. You see he's still standing there at the end of the bed, face red and clearly hard but he's not moving.

"Cmon Toma, it's okay." You say with a smile extending your hand out and gently spreading your legs, it's not the first time he's laid between your legs but this is different, completely different. The only issue is him, what if he messes up, hurts you, god what if he cums too quick he would die. But gulping and swallowing his fears as he looks at your gentle smile and warm eyes, realizing that maybe you aren't going to shame him for his inexperience instead welcoming him with open arms and legs. Climbing up and slotting himself between your thighs he presses his face into your breast and basically begins to suffocate himself. You giggle at his antics, deciding not to say anything instead wrapping your legs around his waist adjusting yourself and running your fingers through his hair gently tugging on it.

"What's the matter baby?" You ask yanking him by his hair gently to get him to make eye contact with you and when he does you see his flushed face paired with his teary eyes, it really makes a girl go wild. You don't give him the chance to ever actually respond instead kissing him passionately, moving up so that his arms are caging your head, hips moving against yours feeling the way he presses against your core, both pulling away to moan as you move your hips against his. Loving the feeling of his body pressed on top of yours as he grinds against you. You can see his head getting droopy, grabbing his head to press it against yours, lips grazing against each other as his hips move rougher.

"Mhm fuck I'm gonna cum unlock your legs please." He says desperately but remembering the way he looked while you guys were in the chair gave you a different idea. Wrapping your legs tighter around him as you whisper in his ear telling him

"It's okay baby. I got you.." You say grinding up against him, feeling as he buries his head in your neck, feeling his hips twitch as he cums, unlocking your legs as he pulls away, shame written on his face as you see the damp spot on his sweatpants. Gently smiling as you reach up for his face seeing as he flinches, god you hate when he does that, cupping his face, leaning in and kissing him passionately pulling away

"You did great baby. Think you can do it again?" You ask moving your hand down to gently rub over his crotch watching as he hisses slightly, you pull away

"Sorry love, you're still sensitive. Want to learn to touch me baby?" You ask pulling away laying back down on your back as you spread your legs giving him a clear view of your clothes cunt, a similar damp spot to his own forming on the outside of your panties. Seeing as his face gets even darker which you thought was impossible but you see as it happens. Smiling as he all but gulps but replies

"I would love too baby" he says leaning forward kissing you, and you happily return the kiss with all you're might pulling you brushing your lips against his whispering

"Take your pants off baby" you say against his lips. You're sure he's uncomfortable at the moment and he happily obliges tossing his pants somewhere and makes his way back to you with wide eyes as he sees you shimmy out of your panties, this is the first time he's seen your pussy but damn is he captivated. He doesn't even say anything as he crawls back in between your legs laying on his stomach, you can feel his breath on your most private spot making you shiver. His hands are making there way to the top of your thighs so close to where you really need him. Gasping as his fingers spread you apart.

"Sorry" he says about to pull away but you grab one of his wrists stopping him, seeming to understand he places his hands back to where they were.

"Okay just touch me baby. Right here" you say with the wrist you're still holding you place his hand on your cunt pointer finger placed on your clit. Muttering again 'right here' and he seems to understand, pulling his hands away to scoot closer, placing your thighs on his shoulders his right hand making it's way back to your clit as he rubs at your clit gently, experimentally,

"Just a little faster baby. Rub in circles." You say as one hand goes to his head running your fingers through his hair tugging. That's when you feel a finger prob at your entrance gasping

"Toma" you say looking at him with surprise but the way he looks at you with fear in his eyes almost as if he did something wrong. But you're quick to correct him

"It's okay you just surprised me. Curl your finger upwards look for a spongy spot inside it's not far baby okay" you say and he nods listening to every word as he pushes his finger in doing as you. It takes him a couple of tries but then he curls his finger up and he hears you gasp all the while his other hand never stopped playing with your clit, he can feel you squeeze around his fingers, hips twitching as you practically hump his hand.

"Toma I'm-" you interrupt yourself with a gasp as you feel his fingers curl up harshly, thighs shaking as he moves his fingers in a come hither motion all the while rubbing and teasing at your clit, back arching as you cum around his fingers. Chest heaving as he pulls his fingers away, clenching and unclenching around nothing as you attempt to calm your breathing which all goes out the window when you see him slip those same fingers that were just inside of you into his mouth, never breaking eye contact as you see his cheeks hallow as he sucks, you gasp

"You're so nasty Toma" you say looking away but he smiles at that crawling his way back bewteen your legs, his lips brushing agianst yours with a gentle smile

"Yeah but you like don't you?" he says with a cheeky smile. Pressings a kiss to your cheek he leans in to your ear whispering

"You got a condom baby?" you shiver at the question. Holy shit this is actually happening. It feels like your heart is going to burst out of your chest, you nod pointing to the bed side tables first draw.

"I bought them this morning when I went to the convience store." He smiles at the implication

"You have this all planned out don't you baby" he says with a clear smirk on his face

"I tried to" you say gently kissing him with all the passion you could muster. You feel he begins to shimmy out of his boxers and tossing them to the floor, ripping open the condom with just his teeth, watching as as he sits back on his hind legs cock free and leaking against his belly button. He struggles a bit with getting it on at first but with your encouragement he's able to get it on happily, as he settles back between legs with a shy smile. You can feel as the tip of his cock rubs against your clit in a teasing manner causing your hips to jolt as a moan slips bast your lips.

"Mhm don't tease please" you say wrapping your arms around his neck holding him cloce to you as you press kisses all around his face. You can feel the tip presses against your hole, yours thighs twitch and your hips jolt again, a whimper escapes your lips as his hips push in dipper. All the while his head hangs low his right cheek pressed agianst your left one, huffing and moaning in your ear. Gripping his shoulder whimpering out

"Slow down Toma. Just give me a second." You say chest heaving attempting to catch your breath. He pulls away breathing out an apology, his blush spreading down to his chest, he looks down to see blood covering the condom as he looks back at you with wide eyes

"Jesus Christ. You're bleeding" he says slowly pulling his hips away but you're quick to stop him, wrapping your legs around his waist gasping a the angel change, the tip of his cock pressing against that spongy spot inside that causes your eyes to roll back as your breath to stutter

"It's okay baby. I'm okay just give me a second yeah?" you say with a breathless laugh. It takes a few minutes but once you start to feel comfortable your hips move pressing against his with a moan. He gives you knowing glance before his own hips start to twitch up. You can feel as he pulls out to just the tip and gently thrust back in making sure to angel for that spot inside that causes your thighs to twitch and back arching off the bed as he grips your thighs, they're surely going to bruise. He falls on top of you, his hips never stopping as he adjusts the two of you, lifting your hips up as he wraps your legs around his waist, his weight pressing you down into the mattress. You can feel it as he thrusts harder into you gasping out

"Touch my clit baby." You say letting a whimper out as you feel his hand slip in-between your bodies toying with your clit just like he did earlier.

"Fuck baby. I can feel you clenching around me. Holy shit this feeling is amazing. I'm addicted to this pussy" he says huffing in your ear, quivering at the feeling, holy shit you didn't expect your ears to be so sensitive. You're a shaking mess overwhelmed with the pleasure he's giving you. You can feel your orgasm coming and fast with the way he's toying with you. Scratching at his back feeling as you accidentally draw blood, it doesn't seem to stop his movements if anything it spurs him on, causing his hips to move faster,

"I-I'm coming" You say gasping out grapping his shoulders as you kiss him. Hips stuttering as you squeeze around him cumming eyes slightly crossing as your hips rut up. This doesn't stop his hips from moving though, instead picking up more speed, his bruising grip on your thighs never letting go.

"Fuck I'm gonna cum." He says hips twitching as he thrusts one last time burying himself inside you one last time before cumming with a low groan. He pulls out shortly after pulling the condom off and tying it close before tossing it in the trash can, you let a groan due to the overstimulation. Pulling away with a smile as he stands up off the bed gently kissing you

"You did so good." He says kissing you again walking to your shared bathroom to grab a damp rag and wipe you off. Gently spreading your thighs as he gently rubs the rag against the inside of your thighs cleaning you up the best he can.

"How are you feeling" He asks gently rubbing small circles into your thigh

"I'm okay baby. Just exhausted." You say giving him a tired smile. To which he smiles at kissing you again. Pulling on his boxers standing up

"I'll go get you a snack" He says walking out, he's only out for a few minutes coming back in with two granola bars and two water bottles. Making his way back to you all snuggled up with heavy eyes. He makes his way back to the bed opening up one of the water bottles and placing it near your lips as you drink happily. Sighing in contempt as he screws the cap back on. Climbing into behind you wrapping his arms around you tightly, kissing your cheek gently

"You did great. Take a nap." He says kissing you again and you hum at that snuggling up closer to him as you fall asleep in his arms.

Noete: I don't know you'll like this honestly

[books-and-strawberry-tea]

Books I always forget about cause they are on my kindle:

Am I the only one like this? I always forget what I have when its a digital collection. I've been collecting since I bought my kindle. I read heaps on my kindle. But I just keep adding more and more to my collection. So here's a list of books a want to read that's on there. If anyone has any feed back or recommendations about my list, please leave a comment! Also if you decide to look into the books on this list, be aware some are 18+ and have TW.

Vampires: Hollow - Legend (Series) Tethered (series) Court (started) The southern book clubs guide to slaying vampires (Started) Twilight (series) Court of the vampire queen (40%) From blood and ash Bitten and bound Vampire academy Die for you (aus) The vampire in the bookstore Bound to the vampires Empire of the vampire - Empire of the damned (series) Feathers so vicious (series) House of crimson hearts Shade of a blood moon blood oath - shadow heart - twisted soul (series)

Manga: Somethings wrong with us (Manga) Say i love you (Manga)

Contemporary/contemporary romance/dark romance ect: Den of vipers The predator The ritual Things we never got over The virgin suicides Ninth house - Hell bent (series) God of Malice Hate mail Hate (JAMES) Bridget jones diary Hunting adeline (Started) Kiss the sky The seven husbands of evelyn hugo Moments of mayhem Lights out Mine (AK ROSE) Falling leaves Twisted friction Saint - sinner - priest - midnight mass (series) Love of my after life Theif (MASSERY)

Fantasy/fantsy romance: The spell shop Yumi and the nightmare painter Gideon the ninth Kingdom of blood and betrayal (35%) - A kingdom of venom and vows (series) Heir of the beast (series) Whispers of the deep The crimson moth The orchid and the owl (started) The song of the marked A court of silver flames (started) Half a soul (series) The god and the gumiho A discovery of witches Psycho fae - psycho shifters - (series) Daughter of the moon goddess (30%) - Heart of the sun warrior Powerless The liars crown Forged by malice - bonded by thorns - Woven by gold (series) Heaven officials blessings The dragons bride Dark heir - dark rise (series) Legends and lattes Lightlark - Nightbane (ugh) The very secret society of irregular witches One dark window - two twisted crowns (series) The invisible life of addie larue One little nightmare Daughter of no worlds The unmaking of June farrow Feather so black Songbird of the sorrows What is dark within me (series) A dream so wicked - Sleeping beauty retelling Of darkness and ruination

Ghosty/Hauntings/Spirits/Halloweenie ect: When stars come out Black silk and Sympathy (Aus) Love letters to a serial killer Good girl bad blood (started) - as good as dead (series) House of hollow Chlorine Carving for cara Her soul to take (series) A soul to keep The curse of the flores women The haunting of blackwych grange Leather and lark Starling House A deadly education Spells for forgetting Rouge In the clearing (aus) In a dark mirror Creations captive

Japanese stories: 夏物語 (Breasts and Eggs JP ver) The full moon coffee shop If cats disappeared from the world (ENG/JP) Conveniance store woman Butter コーヒーが冷めないうちに - 川口 俊和 Days at the morisaki bookshop (series)

[mariaxxxxx]

Chapter 3: He´s Not My Lover , He´s a Stranger.

Summary: On summer holidays you find a mysterious shell among the waves. Then an unlikely friendship arises with a sea creature with wings on its ankles and ears pointed towards the sky.

Warnings: 18+ ONLY/ Minors DNI, Angust, Hurt comfort, Sex, Apologies, Crying, Creampie, Passionate sex, virgin!reader, size difference, smut, soft!dom!, HEA, somnophille, slight degradation, duvious consent, pregnancy, arranged marriage, inexperienced reader, abortion commented, unprotected sex (don't do that wrap this thing), kidnapping, aftercare, curse words.

A/N: English is not my mother tongue. I apologize for any errors.

A/N: Reader is heavily implied to be Mexican but i tried to keep it as free to the imagination as possible

A/N: I hope you haven't abandoned this fanfic. Luckily I had some time off from work and could dedicate myself to my still fics about the water daddy. Comments and reblogs are welcome.

Work count: 1.806

serie materialist.

🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

“Eat some fruit, honey.” Your grandmother said before you even sat down at the table.

“I’m going to eat Grandma.” You let go automatically as you played with the cereal box.

“Do you have plans for today?”

You denied as you took a generous spoonful of cereal to your mouth.

“Keep me company tonight. I want to crochet a dress for you.” His grandmother said with a mischievous smile. “I'm sure the boy will like it.”

“What boy, Grandma?” You asked choking on the cereal flakes. His grandmother laughed at his reaction.

“I was young once, my dear. I would also sneak out at night to meet your grandfather on the beach.” She let out a passionate sigh. “It was during one of these meetings that we conceived your mother.”

"Disgusting!" You exclaimed with a look of disgust, but you loved your grandmother's lack of filter. “There are no boys. I just like walking on the beach at night.”

“I’m going to pretend I believe in You.” His grandmother narrowed her eyes. “When you’re ready, bring him here. I would like to meet you and I will bake a cake to welcome you. Meanwhile be here at night; I want to give you the dress and train my skills.”

You can't help but smile at your sweet grandmother's antics. You and her were so similar, even though your mother disagreed, the connection between You was strong and beautiful. You loved sitting on her lap to be caressed with her gentle hands and listening to old songs and legends. Her grandmother was a sweet balm in her summer days to wait until the night where she would meet her secret friend.

The day passed quickly; You helped your grandmother with the housework, went into town to buy groceries and when the sun went down you were standing in the living room while your grandmother took your measurements for the crochet dress.

“You’re so skinny.” Her grandmother exclaimed wrapping the ribbon around her waist. “Your lover won’t like seeing you so thin, men like flesh to squeeze.”

“Grandma…” You said whimpering.” ... there is no lover and I'm not that thin so I always gain weight when I'm with you.”

“I’m not doing a good job then.” Her grandmother walked around her body and measured her legs. “I’ll add more to your plate.”

“If you make cakes, I promise to eat them until I explode.” You said with great humor.

“You are just like your grandfather. He also loved my cakes, if I let him he would eat them whole.”

A curiosity arose in his mind about his grandfather. He had died when his mother was young, left his grandmother a small fortune from years of fishing and liked to eat sweets. It was like a shadow in her life; he was always there, but You knew so little about him.

“How did you and Grandpa meet?” You questioned your grandmother.

Your grandmother stopped measuring your body and stood in front of You, with an emotional look.

“At a young age, he and his family moved to the city in search of new opportunities, they had come from a small village on the Yucatán peninsula in Mexico looking for a better lifestyle. I met him while fishing with your father, he reminds me of thinking he was the most beautiful man in the world.” Her grandmother paused and sighed. “It was a beautiful romance, so beautiful. We often escaped to date under the stars. We got married quickly, your mother came soon after to complete our happiness.”

“That’s beautiful grandma.” You said with tears in your eyes.

“He told me the history of his people.” His grandmother continued. “My favorite was the story of the feathered serpent. His grandfather gave him a funny name that was a bit difficult to pronounce. Ku..ku..can... K'uk'ulkan. Yes, that's the name; K’uk’ulkan.”

“K'uk'ulkan” You pronounced, feeling the sweet touch on your tongue.

“Your grandfather said that in his village his neighbors told the story of a man with wings on his feet walking on the beach. They said it was K'uk'ulkan, the serpent of the west.”

A light came into his mind when his grandmother mentioned the man with wings on his ankles.

“Could you tell me more?” You asked hopefully, but your grandmother made a funny sound out of her mouth.

“I’m sorry, my dear. I remember very little about your grandfather’s stories, my mind is no longer the same.” His grandmother took out a box of balls of yarn. “Under my bed are some of your grandfather’s old books and diaries. If the rats haven't ruined everything, it will be a good read for you to learn about your ancestral culture.”

“Thank you, Grandma.” You said calmly, but inside you exuded eagerness to find out more about the feathered serpent.

Your grandmother gave you the box containing your grandfather's old books and you spent the entire morning leafing through the dusty books; some of them were old diaries with the sloppy handwriting of a dreamy boy. His grandfather had written about the difficulties faced by his family before migrating to another country in search of new opportunities, how fishing made them prosper quickly and how his grandmother was the light of his life. You giggled at the passionate words bordering on eroticism used by your grandfather to describe his beloved.

Among the leaves, you found an old photo of your grandparents and your mother as a baby sitting on a picnic on the beach, and you couldn't stop laughing when you saw your mother as a chubby and cute baby with her hands full of sand. You left the lake diary and grabbed a large book with a red cover and gold letters.

The book narrated the history of the Mesoamerican people. In your research you discovered how natives had been driven from their corn farms by Spanish colonizers, how the culture was massacred by the white man, and how years of slavery and imperialism had left a nation so wounded and broken. Chills ran down your spine as you read the atrocities committed.

His fingers flipped through the thick sheets when something caught his attention. A specific symbol similar to the one carved on the shell that Namor took from You many years ago, the symbols were the same. One of the designs carved into the smooth bark was identical to the design on the thick sheet. The green-painted serpent had the same appearance as Quetzalcóatl, a deity with the appearance of a feathered serpent worshiped in Teotihuacan. At that moment, you created a huge obsession with that coincidence and started researching everything you could about divinity.

Quetzalcóatl was the Aztec god of wind, air and learning, and wears around his neck the so-called ''wind breastplate'' made from a shell similar to the one taken from You. Another detail that caught his attention was discovering that the name in the Mayan version for this god was K'uk'ulkan, the feathered serpent who arrived in Yucatán by sea from the west and founded its civilization.

You reflected on the coincidence between the conch and Namor, and how they both seemed to be intertwined with this long-lost culture. You put down the red book and went back to leafing through your grandfather's old diaries trying to find some account about the man with wings on his ankle. To his great misfortune, there was only a tiny report written in just over six lines where his grandfather, at the age of ten, claimed to have seen the figure of a man with wings on his ankle walking calmly on the sand. The rest of the story was faded with stains caused by age and excess dust.

You searched the internet for more information and found a dubious-looking website narrating a local community's legend about a man-shaped entity with pointy ears and wings on its ankles that walks along the beach after sunset. There were photos of some people leaving baskets of fruit on the sand as an offering to this entity and a blurry, poor quality photo of a male figure near the water. Maybe it was sleep or madness, but you can recognize Namor in that photo even with the poor quality. The wings, the jewelry and even the damn shorts were there.

You reflected on Namor's suspicious nature and reluctance to tell you what he was about. He could be like Thor, the Norse God coming from space to fight with his fellow humans, but that seemed unlikely since Namor came from the ocean. The irritation grew even more for knowing so little about a person who had been by his side for so many years. With a long sigh of tiredness you laid your head on top of the books, closing your eyes a little, your tiredness was too much, before you knew it you were sleeping soundly. Dreams visited him that night.

“You were in a place that seemed to be a cave, the place had a bluish light and it was cold, very cold. Your steps were firm, you seemed to recognize the territory, or at least know where you were going.

After a while of walking quickly, she realized that she was doing so not out of experience, but out of fear. She looked back when she heard a slurred laugh. A pair of onyx eyes stared at him with amusement. You quickened your pace, and then started running.

She looked back again, fearing she would be chased. And it was. Namor looked calmly, with a predatory smile on his lips as if he knew what his ending would be, his dark orbs stared intensely at each part of her body. You came face to face with a wall. There was no longer any escape. You closed your eyes and prayed.

You felt his heat, getting closer and closer. You refused to open your eyes, refused to look at him. Pressing yourself against the wall, you waited. Maybe he would torture her and kill her, or, he would be merciful and just kill her. You felt him laugh and had the audacity to open your eyes and look at him.

He wore different clothes; a white loincloth, gold shoulder pads in the shape of a snake and piles of jewels that adorned her arms and ankles. In short steps without looking away from yours he got closer and closer, he extended his hand to you, you closed your eyes and waited. His hand rested on a face wet with tears, his touch was warm.

He brought his lips to your ear, goosebumps ran through your entire body. You felt him take a deep breath like a wild animal smelling its prey before devouring it."

“In ch'úpalo' (my girl)”

[theoutcastrogue]

Ballade of the Hanged Men

According to legend, François Villon wrote his iconic Ballade des pendus ("Ballad of the Hanged", c.1489) in prison, waiting for his own execution. Not true. Fittingly for a rogue, Villon disappeared from Paris and from history, and his ultimate fate will forever remain unknown.

This 2013 translation by David Georgi does not retain the poem's rhyme, but I think it perfectly captures the mood. Original Middle French after the cut, for modern French spelling and a literal English translation see wikipedia.

Brothers, humans, who live on after us, don’t harden your hearts and turn away, for if you take pity on wretches like us, the sooner will God have mercy on you. You see us strung up here, five, six in a row; as for our flesh, which we nourished too well, it has fallen away, devoured or rotted, and we, the bones, will soon be ash and dust. Let no one mock at our pitiful state, but pray to God that he absolve us all.

If we dare to call you brother, do not disdain us, though the law saw fit to kill us in the name of justice; for you know not all are blessed alike with sense and reason. Therefore go with quiet heart and intercede for us with the Son of the Virgin Mary; ask that his grace toward us may not run dry and let him save us from the firestorms of hell. We are dead; let no one harm us further, but pray to God that he absolve us all.

The rain has soaked us through and washed us clean and the sun has dried and blackened us. Magpies and crows have cored out our eyes, trimmed our beards and plucked our eyebrows. We never get a moment to rest: this way and that as the wind shifts direction, it swings us at its whim continually, more needled by birds than a darning thimble. No, ours is a club you should not rush to join, but pray to God that he absolve us all.

Jesus, our Prince, who reigns over us all, let hell have no hold over us sinners, let us owe it no debt or allegiance. Fellow men, don’t laugh at our fate, but pray to God that he absolve us all.

Ballade des pendus

Freres humains qui aprés nous vivez, N’ayez les cueurs contre nous endurciz, Car se pitié de nous povres avez, Dieu en aura plus tost de vous mercis. Vous nous voiez cy atachés, cinq, six; Quant de la chair, que trop avons nourrie, Elle est pieça, devoree et pourrie, Et nous, les os, devenons scendre et pouldre. De nostre mal personne ne s’en rie, Mais priez Dieu que tous nous vueille absouldre.

Se vous clamons freres, pas n’en devez Avoir desdain, quoy que fusmes occis Par justice; toutesfoiz vous savez Que tous hommes n’ont pas bon sens rassis. Intercedez doncques de cueur assis, Envers le filz de la Vierge Marie, Que sa grace pour nous ne soit tarie, Nous preservant de l’infernale fouldre. Nous sommes mors, ame ne nous harie, Mais priez Dieu que tous nous vueille absouldre.

La pluye nous a debuez et lavez Et le souleil decechez et noirciz. Pies, corbeaux nous ont les yeulx cavez Et araché la barbe et les sourcilz. Jamais nul temps nous ne sommez assis: Puis ça, puis la, comme le vent varie, A son plaisir sans cesse nous charie, Plus becquetés d’oiseaux que dez a couldre. Ne soiez donc de nostre confrairie, Mais priez Dieu que tous nous vueille absouldre.

Prince Jhesus, qui sur tous a maistrie Garde qu’enfer de nous n’ait seigneurie; A luy n’ayons que faire ne que souldre! Hommes, ycy n’a point de mocquerie, Mais priez Dieu que tous nous vueille absouldre.

@tuulikki

[ymasumacforever]

[talonabraxas]

The Rose in Alchemy

The cross stands wound densely round with roses. Who has put roses on the cross?... And from the middle springs a holy life Of threefold rays from a single point. — Goethe, Die Geheimnisse (1784-1786)

In alchemy, the white and the red rose are well-known symbols for the lunar and the solar tincture, from which the "precious rose-coloured blood" of Christ-Lapis flows. And the Shehina, the brilliance of celestial wisdom on earth, is understood in the image of the rose, and "the collection of honey" stands for the common inheritance of theosophical knowledge. “Thus the whole parable of the Song of Solomon finally refers to the object of our rose-cross: 'I am the rose of Sharon and the lily of the field'”. As regards "the correct procedure for attaining the rose-red blood of the cross that is poured (as quintessence) in the centre of the cross", Fludd used the image of wisdom: the work of the architect as a labourer of God on the building of the temple. — R. Fludd, Summum Bonum, Frankfurt, 1629

Symbolism of the Rose

A highly complex symbol; it is ambivalent as both heavenly perfection and earthly passion; the flower is both Time and Eternity, life and death, fertility and virginity. In the Occident, the rose and lily occupy the position of the lotus in the Orient. In the symbolism of the heart, the rose occupies the central point of the cross, the point of unity. The red and white rose together represent the union of fire and water, the union of opposite. In Alchemy, the rose is wisdom and the rosarium the Work; it is also the rebirth of the spiritual after the death of the temporal. In Hebrew Qabalism, the center of the rose is the sun and the petals the infinite, but harmonious, diversities of Nature. The rose emanates from the Tree of Life. In Hinduism, the lotus parallels the symbolism of the Mystic Rose as a spiritual center, especially in the chakras. For Rosicrucians, the Rose-cross is the Mystic Rose as wheel and cross; the rose is the divine light of the universe and the cross the temporal world of pain and sacrifice. The rose grows on the Tree of Life which implies regeneration and resurrection. The rose in the center of the cross is the quaternary of the elements and the point of unity.

In the Grail legend, the invocations addressed to the divine heart of Jesus contain the feminine element. It is extolled as "the temple in which dwells the life of the world," as a rose, a cup, a treasure, a spring, as the furnace of divine love "ever glowing in the fire of the Holy Ghost", as a censer and as a bridal chamber. Jesus receives the souls of the dying into his heart which "burns glowingly", "as red gold burns and melts in the fire", and the soul dissolves therein, "as water mixes with wine". All of these symbols are feminine and are therefore very closely connected with the motifs of the Grail legend and of alchemical symbolism. --Emma Jung & Marie-Louise von Franz, The Grail Legend (1986)

[powerful-niya]

— (тнε gιяℓ ιη яε∂.)

︶꒦꒷♡꒷꒦︶

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚hαppч nαruhínα mσnth єvєrчσnє!

˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚𝙳𝚎𝚌𝚎𝚖𝚋𝚎𝚛 𝟸𝟺: 𝚁𝚎𝚍 𝚁𝚒𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝙷𝚘𝚘𝚍 + 𝚄𝚛𝚋𝚊𝚗 𝙻𝚎𝚐𝚎𝚗𝚍𝚜 - (𝙽𝙷𝚖𝚘𝚗𝚝𝚑𝟸𝟹)

Link To Oneshot Below ↴

Part 1: Wattpad|AO3

Part 2: Wattpad|AO3

Pairing˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚Naruhina

Synopsis˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡Naive and innocent, Hinata sets out on a selfless journey to aid her ailing father. However, she makes the mistake of crossing paths with Naruto, the big bad wolf.

Now, in his presence, she faces a daunting proposition: win his harrowing game of survival to return to her father, or lose, forfeiting something uniquely her own—her innocence.

Content Tags˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚ Adventure • Alternate Universe - Fairytale • Angst • Chilling • Dark • Dark Fairytale • Dark Romance • Dark Secrets • December 24 • December 25 • Forests • Heavy Angst • Horror • Human/Monster • Human/Werewolf • Hurt & Comfort • Monster • Nhmonth • Nhmonth23 • Non-human AU • OOC • Psychological Thriller • Red Riding Hood • Supernatural • Thriller • Urban Legends • Werewolf • 2023

NSFW Tags˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚  Biting • Claiming • Coming Untouched • Coercion • Dirty Talk • DubCon • Fantasies & Fantasizing • First Time • Fuck-Or-Die • Forest Sex • Innocence • Loss of Virginity • Marking • Mating • Monster Sex • Multiple Orgasms • Oral Sex • Orgasm Denial • Outdoors Sex • Ownership • Power Play • Scent Kink • Scratching • Size Difference • Tail(s) • Vaginal Sex • Virgin • Werewolf Bites • Werewolf Mark • 2023

((For My Dark Readers Only))

Overall Word Count˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

Part #1: 12.8K

Part #2: 19.3K

Tumblr Post: Word Count˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚5.1K

Preview ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

The sun dipped low on the horizon, painting the sky with a rich palette of amber, gold, and crimson hues. Its waning light stretched long shadows across the dense foliage surrrounding a quaint little village. 

Accompanying the gentle sway of the trees was the soft caress of the breeze, carrying with it the earthy aroma of pine needles mingled with the damp, fertile scent of soil. 

A young woman strode briskly along a meandering trail branching off from the village behind her, her midnight blue hair trailing like ribbons in the steady wind as she walked. 

The woman?

Hinata Hyūga, the girl in red. 

The young woman, sweet as can be, wore a vibrant red cloak that flowed behind her, a gift from her dear late mother. Underneath, a white blouse with ruffles peeked out, paired with a swaying red skirt. Black fishnet stockings hugged her legs as she walked with grace in her Mary Jane pumps. 

Very picturesque. 

Hinata's steps were determined, moving steadily onward and upward, unfaltering even in the face of the whispered fears that hung in the air. She's been walking for quite some time, long enough for a dull ache to settle in her ankles and a persistent soreness to nag at her lower back. 

Still, she pressed forward.

She must. 

She had only one thing on her mind, and nothing else, propelling her to keep moving forward…

Her dear father: Hiashi Hyūga. 

He's fallen ill. 

An unfortunate turn of events.

In the early stages, his illness seemed rather mild, to say the least. Just an occasional cough here and there, nothing too alarming for Hinata. She brushed it off as a common seasonal nuisance, just his sensitive sinuses acting up again. 

So, she would make it a routine to brew her father a steaming cup of chamomile tea three times a day, meticulously steeping it to perfection. By his bedside, she would softly hum melodies she learned from her mother as she helped him drink the tea, all in hopes of soothing his cough and ushering him into a peaceful slumber.

At first, the tea seemed to do the trick.

However, as time passed, the soothing properties of the tea sadly began to lose their effectiveness. Before long, his symptoms began to worsen, escalating into something far more serious.

Pneumonia. 

His ailment turned into pneumonia. 

Hinata found that out on her own, having managed to piece it together from her father's symptoms—persistent coughing, difficulty breathing, and a stubborn fever that just wouldn't go down, no matter what she did. 

She tried everything to bring his many fevers down—cool compresses, damp cloths on his forehead, and even making him sip on ice-cold water or mint tea from time to time—but nothing seemed to work.

Her father was an old man, brittle and fragile. There was only so much that he could endure. 

As the days went by, her father's appearance grew more haggard and feeble, like a shell of who he once was. It pained Hinata to see him fading away, inching farther from his usual vibrant self. 

He hardly spoke, hardly laughed, and hardly smiled…

Each day, each hour, each minute, he battled with all of his might against the cruel pneumonia. But it seemed like it was gaining the upper hand more and more each day.

Hinata truly feared that he just might…

She shook her head, suppressing tears. She shouldn't think that way. 

It was this sense of urgency that drove Hinata forward, motivating her to hasten her return home with the supplies she had collected for him.

In her delicate hands, Hinata carried a woven basket brimming with vibrant vegetables, fruits, and an assortment of herbs and medicines—collected from the settlement a few miles away.

Konoha Village.

Hinata's father, Hiashi, resided in a charming cottage on the outskirts of Konoha village, nestled by a tranquil lake. His cottage, though old and weathered, had a cozy charm that was rather inviting. 

The quaint home was surrounded by blooming gardens and a cobblestone pathway, providing a peaceful sanctuary for him to live in peace. 

But his cottage wasn't just any place; it was Hinata's home as well. 

There, the two lived, accompanied only by one another. 

After the mysterious death of Hinata's mother, her father made the decision to leave Konoha. The memories of her and the village itself became too painful, a constant reminder that Hiashi simply couldn't bear.

So, they moved. 

That was many years ago, back when Hinata was just a child. 

But since then, Hinata has taken on the responsibility of looking after her father, especially now, as he lies sick in bed. 

She's grown pretty good at it, which just goes to show how much she learned from her mother. Her mother made sure Hinata could handle looking after both herself and her father on her own, and it's definitely paying off now.

Those teachings were priceless, worth more than gold itself.

And though her dear mother had passed away, Hinata found comfort in knowing that she was still with her; guiding her hands, and blessing her with patience and strength. The wisdom and love she instilled in Hinata were like permanent marks on her soul, destined to remain for as long as she lived. 

And so, no matter the challenges she faced, no matter how heavy the burden of her father's illness, Hinata managed to maintain her positivity. 

Her inner light remained undimmed.

Her radiance was so powerful that it seemed to push back against the encroaching darkness, even now, as she walked the trail all by her lonesome.

But as she walked, the hushed voices of the Konoha townsfolk echoed in her ears, refusing to fade away.

She couldn't shake them off.

The midnight blue-haired woman noticed, as she inhabited their lands, that they constantly spoke of a beast lurking in the nearby forest.

Their fearful gossip painted a picture of a fearsome predator, a freak of nature that had made the once-tranquil forest a place of dread. 

And as soon as word spread that Hinata planned to return home through this forest, the villagers became… 

agitated.

They pleaded with her to wait until morning, to stay safe in the village for the night before venturing near those dangerous woods or traveling at all, for that matter. 

But, Hinata stood firm, adamant.

"I've been away long enough," She had told them, sweetly and earnestly. 

"I can't bear the thought of anything happening to my father while I'm away. He needs these herbs, and I won't let fear keep me from him."  She also told them.

"Thank you for all of your concerns, but I must go. Please, wish me luck!"

However, thinking back on her own words now, Hinata couldn't seem to forget the image of the wide-eyed stares brimming with intense fear and concern etched on the faces of the villagers as she finished speaking. It lingered with her even as she turned away from them and left their gracious company and then village behind.

Little did she know, a touch of naivety tinted her determination.  

The village of Konoha had long battled with the mysterious beast, for several generations, in fact. Its existence was deeply embedded in the memories of its residents, intertwining with the essence of the village itself. 

Its claws dug deep. 

Whenever someone mentions Konoha, the stories of the forest-dwelling beast immediately come to mind soon after. Some dismiss it as an urban legend, while others see it as a cautionary tale passed from adults to children, who eagerly swap it like campfire stories whenever they get the chance.

People simply referred to the creature as "the beast" or even "the big bad wolf," depending on who you asked.

Nobody knew the beast's real name, where it came from, or what it looked like—just where it lived and what it did at night, specifically on nights of a full moon. 

According to the local lore, it was said that on full moon nights, a chilling wolf-like howl could be heard echoing through the forest and into the village. Farmers reported instances of discovering their chickens mauled and their crops raided. Some villagers even claimed to have seen claw marks on their doors, and others reported the disappearances of loved ones, or so the tale goes.

But none of that mattered to Hinata. 

Sure, Hinata had caught wind of rumors about this beast when she was younger but her parents always shielded her from such tales. 

"It's all nonsense," Her mother would always brush off when a teary Hinata sought comfort in her after being scared by the other children's tales of the beast.

Children could be quite scary, Hinata recalls how they would often use the tale to frighten other kids for a good laugh, presumably targeting her as well. They'd swap and switch details so often that Hinata couldn't distinguish fact from fiction anymore. 

That's why she felt it best to heed her mother's advice and ignore the tale altogether.

Though, she still made sure to stay as far away from that forest as humanly possible.

As time passed and Hinata eventually moved away from Konoha, the legend faded from her thoughts, becoming a distant memory. So hearing it again after so many years, Hinata couldn't help but take it with a grain of salt. To her now, the legend seemed more like a tactic to keep youngsters in check—a cautionary tale spun to prevent them from wandering too far and stumbling into trouble.

It was absurd. 

Hinata has no time for legends and myths. Her father's illness is her reality now, not some spooky ole beast, and she must reach him as quickly as possible.

And so, venturing through the forest will fulfill her wish.

With one hand, Hinata clutched a lantern, its flickering flames casting dancing shadows along the trail, guiding the way with its light. In the other hand, she tightly gripped her basket, finding comfort in its presence—a constant reminder of the purpose driving her to continue her journey. 

With each squeeze of the basket's handle, her father's image appeared in her mind: sick, bedridden, and sound asleep for days on end, his hand limp in hers.

She whimpered. 

'I'm on my way, father. I'm on my way.' She thought to herself, finding another surge of motivation. She trotted onward, each step she took resonating with a thud on the stoned pathway.

The chilly night breeze constantly whispered through the rustling trees, sending shivers of its cool touch through any openings in her clothing, such as her arms and legs, causing goosebumps to rise on her porcelain skin.

Hinata shuddered, her red hood steadily flying in the wind. 

While she traveled, the fading sunlight caught the glimmer in her lavender eyes—eyes that reflected only innocence and purity, unaffected by the darkness surrounding the tales of the lurking beast or, perhaps more notably, the harsh realities of the unforgiving world she lived in. 

Her kindness and determination were guiding lights for her, yet they also rendered her vulnerable to the ominous unknown that awaited her. 

Eventually, the trail led her to the entrance of the forest, where the ancient trees stood like silent sentinels. Their gnarled branches seemed to reach out at her like spectral fingers, casting eerie shadows on the ground by her feet. 

Immediately, Hinata's steps came to a sudden halt as she locked eyes with the looming forest. Her lantern and basket swayed due to her abrupt stop, her gaze transfixed on the eerie expanse ahead. 

Shallow breaths escaped her lips in quick succession, and her hands began to tremble.

This is it. 

The forest the villagers warned her about.

The urban legend, the tale of the beast—she never paid it any mind before. She outgrew that silly old tale, and it never made her shed another tear again. She wasn't scared of it anymore.

So, why was she feeling scared now?

Hinata couldn't tell if it was her instincts kicking in or the return of her childhood fears, but her body's peculiar reaction was unmistakable. She was trembling, shaken by the sight of the spooky forest that all of Konoha spoke about with such fear, now standing before her very eyes.

Tangible and real. 

Shakily, through the strands of her midnight-blue hair, Hinata raised her head and surveyed the eerie forest. 

Instantly, she realized the gravity of her situation. 

There were no other trails to consider, no detours, no shortcuts, and no hidden pathways to divert her from the ominous woods. The trail she had followed led her directly to the heart of the very forest that was said to dwell a beast. 

The forest stretched wide before her, its dense canopy casting shadows over the trail, which seemed to vanish into the darkness ahead.

Her heart began to race. 

Once again, the villagers' warnings echoed in her mind, a constant murmur urging her to retreat, turn away, and think twice about going any farther. The echoes just wouldn't quit, persistently nagging at her consciousness, like a chorus of annoying voices that just wouldn't go away.

But, her father….

Hinata's mind drifted back to her beloved father, who she knew was eagerly awaiting her return home. She knew he longed more than anything to see her walk through the door with a smile, bringing the supplies she had traveled far and wide to acquire.

It was at that moment, the fearful echoes of the villagers' pleads faded away.

Hinata exhaled a long breath in an attempt to calm the rising tide of anxiety within her. She even bit her lip nervously, gripping the handle of her basket tighter.

'You can do this, Hinata. You can do this!' She thought, once more trying to motivate herself.

Hinata knew she had to be brave, to summon strength from within the depths of her being to go on—for her father's sake.

She must.

So, with newfound determination, she steadied herself, taking a few more deep breaths before she planted her eyes back onto the spooky forest before her. 

She was ready. 

And with that, she summoned the courage needed to finally step into the darkness that lay ahead.

To enter the forest. 

The moment Hinata walked inside, a profound stillness descended around her like a heavy blanket, muffling even the slightest sound. The light that lingered behind her at the forest's entrance seemed to be instantly swallowed by the darkness within as she took a few more steps.

One step. Two steps.

The air seemed to shift, the pressure weighing her down and prickling at her skin like tangible dread.

Three steps. Four.

Above her, towering trees with branches covered in ancient moss loomed from all directions, their shadows stretching and swaying in the flickering light of her lantern.

The scent of damp pine grew stronger now, filling her nostrils with its earthy aroma, saturating the air all around her. 

Hinata's footsteps slowed, becoming cautious, as if the ground itself conspired with the looming shadows to keep her alert. With each step, she felt as if the ground might open up beneath her feet and drag her under, never to be seen or heard from again.

The path stretched ahead beneath her, shrouded in darkness so deep that even her lantern struggled to penetrate it, casting only a faint halo around her that the darkness seemed eager to swallow up. It called her onward into its endless black depths, demanding a courage she hadn't known she had.

Her heart pounded fiercely against her ribcage, aching with each beat, a sensation that felt suffocating and very unfamiliar to her. 

After all, panic, dread, and fear were never her friends, more like acquaintances she encountered every once in a blue moon in her otherwise normal life.

But now, she felt it all tenfold. 

Hinata had always prided herself on her composure, but here, surrounded by looming trees and engulfed in an oppressive silence broken only by the occasional rustle, she was beginning to crack.

The longer Hinata lingered within the forest, the tales of the lurking beast seemed to materialize all around her, like a ghost slowly encroaching upon her senses. They echoed in her mind and in every rustle and shadow. 

'Is it there?' She questioned in her mind as she heard a rustle of bushes to her left. 

'Was that it?' She questioned once more, as she heard another rustle behind her. 

Hinata shook her head, letting out a sigh.

She was being ridiculous. 

Glancing up hesitantly, her lavender eyes fixed on the twisted, moss-covered branches overhead. They snaked together like thick vines, blocking out the moonlight. 

She caught only glimpses of the sky, but even those revealed the truth: it was already night, which explains the darkness befalling the forest, swallowing it up whole. 

She squinted, barely catching sight of the full moon above. Its ethereal glow attempted to pierce through the dense foliage, but only succeeded in casting eerie shadows in the forest that only freaked her out even more. 

Hinata tore her gaze from the sky, fixing her eyes solely on the path ahead. Remaining alert in her surroundings was wise; after all, it wasn't just a scary ole beast that might roam these woods—other ordinary animals could be lurking as well. 

Predators. 

She raised her lantern higher. 

But that's when she began to notice something.

As she moved forward, the trail ahead became increasingly narrow, almost disappearing under the tangle of roots, dead leaves, and thick undergrowth. Hinata made sure to tread carefully, even stepping over the tangled obstacles, mindful to avoid tripping and risking a nasty fall.

That would be terrible.

She tightened her grip on her lantern and basket, drawing comfort from their warmth. But she struggled to steady her trembling breaths against the creeping unease that seemed to seep from the darkness itself.

Genuinely, Hinata was spooked. 

Goosebumps prickled her skin, making it feel like a million bugs were crawling across her flesh, all stirred up by the soft murmurings of the night wind.

It just made her feel even more isolated, like an eerie reminder that she was completely alone here.

Hoot! Hoot! 

Hinata shuddered, her senses rattled.  

Maybe not completely alone. 

She couldn't help but notice the distant hoot of an owl and the rustling of creatures in the bushes. She felt so silly thinking what she just did. 

The silence felt thick, disrupted only by the eerie sounds of the night: crickets chirping, frogs ribbiting, and owls hooting in the distance. 

Hinata strained her ears, half-expecting another unsettling noise to break the stillness. Her mind was buzzing, not at all helping her situation, with the villagers' warnings echoing louder in her mind, now than ever before.

Doubt flickered, like a wavering flame, her heart thudding like a drum.

But amidst it all, Hinata clung to the image of her father, frail and ill, relying on the supplies she carried.

So, she continued on. 

She proceeded on the path forward, taking one step at a time.

'Just stay on the path, Hinata. That's all you have to do.' She reassured herself, glancing at the familiar stoned trail beneath her feet, or at least the bits of trail that her light graciously illuminated. 

But no matter how close she huddled to her light, Hinata could not shake free from the unseen eyes watching her every move. 

Her eyes darted between the trees, catching glimpses of elusive shadows that seemed to retreat as soon as they caught her gaze.

She clutched her lantern tighter.  

Awooooo!

Abruptly, a distant howl of a wolf shattered the silence, disrupting Hinata's fragile calm. Startled, she leaped in fright, struggling to stifle her whimpers, but a few hushed squeaks escaped nonetheless.

The eerie cry echoed unnervingly close, as though it were just a few steps behind her, prompting her to instinctively whip her head in that direction. 

Yet, all she saw was darkness, a vast expanse of black. 

She aimed her lantern in that direction, only to see nothing, just more… trees.

Shivers ran down her spine, her sense of imminent danger heightening. 

But she kept on.

'Just a few more steps, I'm sure. The forest can't be that big, right?' Hinata attempted to reassure herself as she pressed forward on the path again, cutting through the forest with the vision that the clear path home lay just a few steps away. 

She wasn't sure how long or how far she had walked into the forest. Every tree looked identical, and the forest seemed to stretch on endlessly, making it impossible for her to identify the distance she had covered.

Branches creaked…

Leaves rustled…

But that's all there was—rustling.

No beast. 

No monstrous entity lurking in the shadows. 

Nothing.

'See, Hinata? The villagers were just overreacting. There's nothing to worry about.' She reassured herself yet again. 

But just as she convinced herself that the villagers were simply letting their fears get the best of them and that there was no beast, she was startled by a chilling surprise that shook her to her very core. 

A surprise that made her doubt everything. 

All of a sudden, she caught a sound—a haunting, guttural noise.

And it spoke to her. 

"I see you there, little one." 

It was a voice, other than her own. 

It was a deep, booming voice that shattered the silence, its words lingering like a sinister whisper long after spoken, chilling her to the bone. 

In an instant, Hinata found herself completely still, every part of her body, from her nerves to her bones, locked in place. She couldn't think, couldn't breathe. She couldn't even—

"I can smell you too." 

The voice spoke again, slicing through her panicked and scattered thoughts. Any notion that what she just heard was merely her imagination or a trick of her mind vanished completely, leaving her with the chilling reality of her fear.

"You don't belong here." 

The voice spoke once more.

"Tell me, what's a frail little thing like you doing here in my woods, huh?" 

The voice exuded a creepy mix of menace and curiosity, and it spoke like it was coming from all around her, as if the very trees themselves whispered such ominous words.

Hinata's heart began to hammer faster, thudding against her chest as if trying to escape. 

Every instinct screamed at her to run, to sprint back to the safety of Konoha village or if not that, find cover to escape the unseen menace that lurked in the shadows. But, her legs refused to respond, rooted to her spot, bound by an invisible force that held her captive.

She tightened her grip on her lantern and basket, seeking solace in their familiarity, but the chilling reality of her fear seemed to seep into her bones, draining her determination with each passing second. 

It's the beast. 

It's real and it can talk! 

It's alive, and out there—Lurking. 

Somewhere among the trees, it was hiding, waiting, and watching. 

Probably done so all along. 

It was the very beast that the people of Konoha feared, the one they had warned her about. It has finally revealed its presence. But it has done so in a way that brought upon a mass of terror upon her poor soul. 

"Aw, what's the matter? Cat's got your tongue, little one?"

This time, amusement tinged the beast's voice, and Hinata caught it instantly. But her mouth remained clamped shut, her voice stolen by the fear that gripped her.

The creature seemed to take pleasure in her silence, its tone becoming increasingly mocking.

"You're a surprising one, coming here. I'm not sure if you're brave or just…"

A menacing chuckle was made. 

"stupid." The beast finished, a taunting challenge that further tightened the knot of dread in Hinata's stomach.

The beast's words seemed to linger in the air, and Hinata found herself grappling with the urgency to respond, to defend her purpose for being there—right in the middle of the very domain it inhabited. 

A whimper escaped Hinata's lips as she glanced anxiously around.

"I-I apologize for d-disturbing you." Her voice cracked hard. It was like all the saliva in her mouth dried up, leaving her throat scratchy and parched. But she continued, kami, she didn't know how she did. 

"I-I'm merely delivering f-food and m-medicine to my f-father." She stammered, managing to maintain a fragile steadiness in her voice despite the trembling in her limbs.

"H-He's sick, and I m-must get to him as q-quickly as p-possible, please."

The forest seemed to hold its breath as she spoke, the ancient trees and whispering leaves hanging on to every word and gentle breath she uttered with eager attentiveness. 

Her purpose for venturing into the forest had been announced. 

Her soft voice had been revealed. 

It was like a melodic lullaby—her voice. It echoed timidly, carrying a soft cadence that seemed to harmonize with the natural rhythms of the forest, soothing the very leaves around her.

Her ears caught a low chuckle, almost a growl, rumbling through the air, echoing ominously among the shadows.

The unseen beast truly found the sound of Hinata's voice rather… captivating. 

It responded in turn.

"Your father, eh?"

Another menacing chuckle. 

"Let me get this straight."

The beast paused, as if it was thinking, before its voice arose again. 

"You've traveled all this way, wading through my territory, doing what many wouldn't dare, just to deliver supplies to your sick father?"

The beast's deep voice rumbled through the air like distant thunder, its tone laced with a genuine sense of confusion as it questioned her.

Hinata nodded shakily, as if the beast could see her response.

Her lavender eyes scanned her surroundings once more, her head whipping about, unable to pinpoint where the voice was. Sometimes it boomed from behind her, startlingly close; other times, it seemed to fade into the distance, only to return with an unsettling proximity. And it even seemed to whisper with an eerie clarity right beside her ear at times, sending shivers down her spine.

Hinata didn't know where the beast was; quite frankly, she didn't want to know. She didn't want to see it. 

Once more, the trees rustled in a mysterious dance of leaves, stirred by an unseen breeze, prompting her eyes to shift rapidly, whimpering. 

Soon after, the voice echoed through the silent forest once more.

"Mmm, what a devoted little thing you are. I must take a closer look."

Instantly, panic surged through Hinata the very moment those words left the beast's mouth. 

It felt like a threat, triggering a primal urge in her to flee. Her mind raced with the urge to run, hide, do something, but her body couldn't keep pace with what her mind was screaming at it.

Panic. 

That's all she felt. 

She was overwhelmed by panic—relentless, heedless of reason or necessity—just raw, clawing panic, gnawing at her insides.

Panic gripped her fiercely, its tendrils wrapping around her mind and squeezing tight. Her heart raced like a drumbeat, each thud echoing in her ears. Every breath came in short, shallow gasps, her chest tightening with each inhale. 

Hinata felt trapped in a suffocating embrace of fear, unable to think clearly as adrenaline rushed through her veins.

'Oh no. Oh no!' She repeated over and over in her head as she whipped her body around, trying to anticipate where the beast might reveal itself.

A hushed silence fell upon the forest, as though nature itself had fallen completely still. 

Frozen in time. 

No shuffles, no rustles, and no sign of life resonated through the entirety of the still forest, leaving Hinata wrapped in an eerie quiet that heightened her anxiety to the extremes. 

She began to hyperventilate. 

Hinata glanced around anxiously, scanning every direction—left, right, front, back, up, and down—hoping to catch a glimpse of the lurking creature before it leaped out at her, a preemptive move to spare herself a heart attack. 

But the forest remained eerily quiet.

And there was no sign or sound of the beast anywhere. 

Suddenly, a sensation washed over her, as if the very air had shifted—and in an instant, Hinata sensed a presence behind her, looming over her petite frame.

A warm breath gently brushed against her neck, causing every hair on her body to stand on end.

"Behind you."

The booming voice reverberated behind her once more, but this time, it was unmistakable.

It echoed directly into her left ear.

The realization struck her like a lightning bolt, causing Hinata's heart to race even faster, its beats resembling the fluttering wings of a hummingbird against her chest.

Ba Boom!

Ba Boom!

Ba Boom!

Hinata's body froze in place.

She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. She couldn't see or hear. Was she still alive? Was she still here?

She wasn't sure.

In moments of fear, they say the body responds with fight or flight, but Hinata was currently experiencing the lesser-acknowledged third option.

Freeze.

It was a primal reaction her body had never felt before, muscles locking rigidly, breath held tight, senses hyper-alert.

Hinata hesitated hard, finding it difficult to accept that the real beast—the one feared by the villagers, the one that had spoken to her moments ago in the night's shadows, the same one even she was afraid of as a child—was now standing right behind her.

No one had ever seen it.

No one even knows what it looks like.

Yet, now it stood behind her.

Hinata couldn't even begin to imagine what the beast looked like. 

Her innocent mind couldn't conjure a clear image, only a chilling certainty that whatever stood behind her at this very moment would surely petrify her, plunging her into a pit of regret for even venturing into this forest. 

But, she gotta. 

She gotta turn around. 

Slowly, with trepidation, and a shaky, desperate "I-don't-want-to-die" whimper, she turned, shedding the cold chains of fear that gripped her. It took all of Hinata's strength to turn her body completely around, stretching her neck to face the beast head-on.

But when she did…

What she saw instantly spurred her to fight against the darkness that threatened to cloud her vision and plunge her completely unconscious to the ground behind her. 

She fought everything not to faint. 

Instead, Hinata jolted back, away from the hulking figure of darkness, stumbling over her pump heels. 

"O-Oh my kami. Oh k-k-kami!" She panicked with a scream, lips trembling, teeth chattering against one another. Her abrupt movement caused her lantern and basket to rattle in her clammy hands, nearly slipping from her grasp. 

But that was the least of her worries. 

There it stood, in the flesh. 

The beast. 

The big bad wolf. 

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[adarkrainbow]

So a long, llloooonnnggg time ago, back when this blog was a slightly more chaotic mess than it is now, I talked about the huge wave of "mythical" interpretations of fairytales in the 19th century. It was THE big thing back then to read fairytales as being translations or evolution of ancestral myth, or legends tied to the weather or the cycle of the year, or even as tales of cosmic events becoming tales of regular characters. I talked before of Anatole France - he had a LOT of fun mocking this in his texts about the symbols and analysis of fairytales, and when reading his texts there is a certain work that pops up: a book claiming that... Napoleon was never real, and is an astral myth.

This book was written as a satire by Jean-Baptiste Pérès, a fervent defender of the Catholic faith, in 1835. Pérès was very, VERY offended by how the boom of comparative mythology, analysis of legends and attempts at explaining the folklore ended up to people talking of Jesus-Christ as "merely" a myth or even presenting the Christ as being simply an alternate manifestation of a universal myth. For example there was this one text, by Charles Dupuis published in 1794, called "L'origine de tous les cultes, ou religion universelle" (The origin of all worships, or the universal religion). In it, Dupuis literaly wrote that when you looked at it enough, Christianity was simply "the religion of Nature and the Sun", describing the Gospels as mere legends whose hero (Jesus-Christ) was basically the same character as Bacchus, Osiris, Hercules or Adonis. It is the tale of a god born from a virgin woman on the winter solstice, who dies, goes to the Underworld, and ressurects at Easter - the Spring Equinox ; a god escorted by his twelve apostles whose leader is strongly similar to the god Janus, a god who vanquishes the Prince of Darkness to repair the evils of nature - in the end, for Dupuis, it was all a "solar fable". Dupuis concluded that it was useless to consider if there was a real man named Christ, as it was to wonder if there was a real prince named Hercules, because for him "Christ" was just a religious name for the sun, and Christians just were followers of the Sun.

It is to answer these types of claims that Pérès wrote his famous work today, "Grand Erratum, source d'un nombre infini d'errata", (Great Erratum, source of an infinite number of errata), which was a take-down of this "solar analysis" by pointing out how, by the same logic of finding analogies with myths of other cultures or natural phenomenon, you could end up proving Napoleone was a mere myth of the Sun.

In twelve points he proved it. I won't list them all but here are some points listed. Napoleon is similar to "Apollon" (Napoléon - Apoléon, Apolluo, Apolleo) and Bonaparte is the reverse of "mala parte", "in the wrong part" - so Napoleon Bonaparte means "Apollon in the right place", aka in its ascension. Apollo was born on the Delos island south of Greece from Leto, the same way Napoleon was born on Corsica south of France from Loetitia. Napoleon had three sisters: they are obviously the three Graces. He had four brothers, with only three of them becoming king - it depicts the four seasons, with the three king brothers representing the sun-driven seasons (Summer, Spring, Autumn) and the fourth brother being the sunless season (Winter).

Napoleon had two wives. The first one, who was sterile and he rejected, represents how the Greeks saw the Moon and the Sun as a couple. The second wife gave him a son: she represents how the Egyptian couple the Sun with the Earth and their son, who was born on the 20th of March, the Spring Equinox, represents the fruits of an Earth fecundated by the Sun. Napoleone beating up, "smothering", "killing" the French Revolution, which was often compared to an hydra, is equated with Apollo slaying Python, down to the pointing out that "Revolution" is linked to "revolvo", reflecting the snake rolling upon itself. Napoleon had twelve marechals in activity and four inactive: they were the 12 constellations, and the four cardinal points. He only had successful victories when conquering Southern lands, but he was defeated when he went too much North - again, solar symbol. Napoleone ruled twelve years: it reflects the twelve hours of the day. Etc, etc, etc...

Pérès' work was done to encourage Christianity, but in the greater scope of things it was remembered and heralded as an EXCELLENT way to highlight the flaws of such an excessive "symbolic reading" or "mythical analysis": still today it is used to reflect how, if people start reading WAY too much into folktales, fairytales and legends, they can basically come up with everything and anything, and come to conclusions that are objectively wrong once you pull your head outside of what you focus upon. Aka: if you are down to find an universal solar myth everywhere, you can claim that Napoleon never existed and was just a god of the sun for modern France.