#men with with sharp teeth covered in blood. tall men. tall men with sharp teeth that are canine coded and also also also

[chilapis]

My brain is so tender jelly due to NyQuil but werewolf ajax lives absolutely rentfree in my head.

[beetlejuicyy]

Ascension | True Form! Sukuna x Reader

Summary: Ryomen Sukuna is a ruthless monster who takes pleasure in slaughter and destruction. You are his favorite, but that makes the other servants on his estate envy your status. What will master Sukuna do to you when he hears the rumors of his favorite slut bedding a common servant from the kitchen?

Warnings: all of them lol it's sukuna violence, blood, death, sexual content, graphic description, exhibitionism (if there are any others I should mention please let me know)

Word count: 6,518

Read on AO3

Notes: I also had the audacity to end it with fluff??

Masterlist

The corridor leading to master Sukuna’s chambers was infinite. You had walked along the creaking wooden floor so many times before, shortly after you went into his service. Stories of unimaginable violence were spreading from servant to servant, starting with the man who would fix a broken wall to the girl wiping blood off clothes. Clothes of men and women who were called in but never came back. He was a monster. Tall muscular body and four arms, always towering over mortals from his throne in the main hall. People were saying he could have your body sliced in half with only one look from afar. Four blood red eyes, feeding off the trembling of voices, shaking of bodies begging for forgiveness. He had none to spare.

However gruesome the stories about Ryomen Sukuna were all over the country, people still flocked to his mansion, offering their services. People with nowhere left to go, people betrayed and hunted by their own kind, the weak, the poor, the lonely. As much of a monster as he was, his home provided a purpose and a haven for those with no place left among humans.

You were no different. When he first summoned you to his chambers, you expected the most painful and humiliating fuck you could ever imagine.

Violence turns him on.

A lot of the women who survived his bed were saying the same thing. Especially then, when he had just come back from killing an entire village, leaving fire and blood in his footsteps, he was sexually aroused for sure. The girl who was going to be summoned that night was going to die, everyone was sure of that. But you didn’t.

“Men are pathetic.” You told him, looking straight to the floor. That was the first time you saw him, sitting high on his throne, an immaculate white yukata covering his now clean body. No sign of the disasters he had brought upon were left on his body, except the obvious erection you could see poking from underneath the fabric. He crossed one muscular leg over the other, resting his chin on the palm of his lower left arm.

“How so?” His voice didn’t scare you, like you expected. But then again, after you walked along the hall and stopped in front of the stairs of his throne, you couldn’t look at him anymore. His form was so imposing, so intimidating, towering over you. He didn’t look like a monster. He looked like a god.

“They kill and they rape and they destroy. But they pretend to be righteous.” You were wearing a royal green kimono that softened the red of your skin, as blood was running rapidly through your veins.

“I did the same thing just earlier.” He said, exposing his sharp teeth in a vicious grin, as if he had just caught you lying.

“They are weak, master. You are a god.” You forced your eyes away from the floor. If you were to survive in his service, you had one simple thing to do. Obey. “I would rather serve you, my lord.”

He looked at you in silence, all four eyes quietly analyzing you, your posture, your face, your breasts that barely fit in the kimono who belonged to someone else. You could hear the sound of your own breath, empty air echoing in your lungs. He was unmoved.

“I’ve heard this tale before.” He said, eyes looking down at you through lashes.

He never seemed bothered by your daring eyes so you compelled them to keep looking up. You were sick and twisted compared to other people, you’ve noticed it since you were a child. Maybe that’s why, contrary to all the stories you’ve heard in the first few days you had already spent there, you found Sukuna handsome, more than anything else. Yes, he was a monster in size and in strength, his build terrifying, his eyes piercing and deadly. But all of these things came together as hunky, almost statuesque. The way he was looking at you, a mix of boredom and indifference to your existence, like he controlled the way the universe worked. Your eyes roamed along his body, taking advantage of the time he took to ponder on your fate. The most popular rumor, that was acknowledged as a fact by all the stories circulating, was that he had two cocks. Your eyes fell on his lap and your lips parted slightly in curiosity. Did he really? You were so focused on his body that you didn’t notice the corners of his mouth curled in a perverted grin splattered across his face. Sukuna noticed you were practically undressing him with your eyes alone.

“You seem to be sincere.” His voice reverberated in the empty hall, snapping you out of your daydream. You looked at him with eyes round in surprise as he gestured for you to approach him, his arm extended towards you, rough long fingers inviting.

This time, however, you had the feeling you weren’t going to be coming back alive. You had become his favorite quickly. He would always call for a different woman, most of the time specifying certain features that she had to possess. One night he wanted a short woman, the other a big breasted one with short hair, other times he wanted a woman with visible scars on her body. He never knew their names and never bothered with remembering. They were simple objects to fulfill his bodily needs. Soon, he started asking for you, specifically by name. In no time, you were the only one summoned to his chambers. People noticed it as did you, and you began getting ready, washing your body, bathing in perfumes, decorating it with jewels and the most beautiful of fabrics, knowing Sukuna would soon be back drunk on brutality and violence, eager to fuck you numb.

At first, the other servants were relieved. The women gradually let go of the crippling fear of being chosen to entertain the master in his chambers, the men relieved of the fear that, if the woman they brought in front of the master failed to satisfy him, their bodies would be slashed in pieces. But lack of fear allowed enough space for other emotions in the hearts of the servants.

Envy.

You were too quiet, too serene. As if you enjoyed your status. Moreover, the stories about what was happening behind the closed doors of his chambers were now scarce. You abstained from talking about it to others and, besides the usual bruises that covered your body all the time, there were no signs of violence or terror inflicted upon you. Much to their dismay, when you would return to your room, long after sunrise, a smile of satisfaction would always be plastered on your worn out face. You enjoyed whatever was happening to you. And that gave you power.

This is how you ended up being framed. A few servants, both men and women, came up with a false narrative, accusing you of giving yourself to one of the boys working at the kitchen. They had seen you helping him bandage a deep meat knife cut. From that simple gesture to detailed falsehood about sexual activities was only one step. First, they spread it amongst each other and now they went directly to master Sukuna to inform him that his favorite slut was throwing herself at any man.

All you could do was deny. You had been summoned to the main hall and you knew exactly why. It was your word against theirs but, as much time as you spent in Sukuna’s company, you didn’t know if he cared enough to even find the truth. None of his women were allowed to be touched by any other man. There had been multiple instances when the women he forcefully took had lovers or even husbands that they tried to go back to and they all ended up decapitated. You finally reached the end of the corridor, palms sweaty and heart beating relentlessly in your chest.

Pushing the doors open, the first thing you laid your eyes upon was Sukuna, sitting high on his throne, a depraved look glistening in all of his four eyes. On either side of the room stood your accusers, more than you would have imagined. At least half of the servants of the estate were standing humbly, heads kept down, eyes sticking to the floor. Contrary to their form, you could see the looks of pride on some of their faces, while others seemed to doubt the success of their plan. In the middle of the room there was a large futon mat. It was there often times when Sukuna enjoyed having you touch yourself while he instructed your every move as he sat on his throne. You thought you saw the servants take it out last time.

Sukuna didn’t say a word. Only his superior grin could be a hint as to how this charade was going to end, but you never knew what to expect from his eyes clouded with lust when he looked at you. You walked in, not expecting any formal invitation, passing by the group of servants, not bothering to spare them a look. The only important thing was in front of you, sitting at the top of the stairs, sunk back in his throne, legs parted widely, four arms crossed across his chest. You felt like a mouse walking right into a trap.

“I’ve heard some interesting stories from your friends.” His low voice echoed in the room. It seemed as if you were being choked by an invisible hand. “I believe you’re aware of it.”

“They’re all lies, my lord.” You answered, just as you had planned. You had your most beautiful attire on, your most prized golden hairpin he had gifted you. But you didn’t expect he would have the accusers present while he would decide your punishment. Your ears picked up a faint sound of rushed breaths and steps behind you, as one of the women tried to argue with your answer. Sukuna ignored her as well, all his attention on you. “My body and my soul belong to you, master. You can use them however you consider suitable.” In response to your last words he grinned, that wide grin that exposed his teeth, like a predator.

“Come here, slut.” Pressing your lips together in anxiety, you grabbed the sides of your long kimono and pulled it up as you climbed up the steps of his throne.

The servants looked in shock at your body gradually ascending to their master’s place. No one was allowed to even dream to stand as high as him. He had fucked you before on his throne multiple times, especially after fights with jujutsu sorcerers that would wear out his body but make his cocks hard, his skin still stained with the blood of those he had slain. When you reached the last step you dared to look at him. It was one of the few instances when you got to look down at him, as you stood up in front of him while he comfortably sat on his throne. His arms were now resting at his sides, his crimson eyes filled with contained rage. The closer you got to him, the more you could feel the killing intent lingering in the air. He looked at you with indecipherable lust. For sex? For killing? For revenge?

“Show them how you serve your master.” Sukuna’s command had air stuck in your throat and eyes widened in shock.

You expected to be punished, even killed, although you had grown to trust him and feel safe in his presence. But not to have you humiliated in the front of the very people who falsely accused you. Your lips parted in a pathetic attempt to protest. No sound came out. You took a moment, one that would have gotten any other human in your shoes killed in an instant, to look for the reason in his eyes. Have you become arrogant enough to think you knew him that well? The only thing you could see in his wicked gaze was your own reflection, nothing else beyond the crystal clear layer of his four eyes. You obeyed, conscious that you were a moment too late. You ought to be punished for that too. But did it even matter, given your situation?

You kneeled down in front of him, his eyes following your face as it lowered until it was at the same level with his crotch. Your hands effortlessly worked on the knot tied at his waist, undoing it. You heard gasps and murmurs from the people filling the room when your hand reached under the fabric of his clothes, pushing it away and displaying his two throbbing cocks. Most of these people had only heard stories about it. You licked the top one, pressing your tongue flat along its length, while your hands gently stroked the other one, cupping his thick balls full of seed waiting to be released. This was your chance to maintain your status, to remain in his good graces, so you tried to ignore the thought of all those people watching you sucking Sukuna’s cocks. He let you adjust to his size quietly, one hand reaching to take the golden hairpin out of your dark long locks and throwing it away. Your hair fell down over your shoulders and back, thin strands sticking to your face. The metal fell down the stairs with sharp noise that covered the wet sounds of you slurping and licking his cock. The pin fell tapping in the middle of the group of people but none of them dared to move, even though its worth could have easily earned them a new life.

Some of them were looking anywhere else but at your small body compared to his beastly frame, as your head bobbed up and down his length, unable to ignore the sounds. Others, on the contrary, mostly men, were watching fascinated. Sukuna’s upper right hand grabbed a fistful of your hair, pushing it away from your face and you looked up at him when his rough knuckles grazed faintly against your cheek. Your eyes met his only for a fraction of a second before he pushed your head roughly, forcing his cock deeper inside your mouth to touch the back of your throat. He groaned in pleasure, a deep guttural sound coming from deep inside his throat as you choked, tears filling the corners of your eyes.

“Undress.” Sukuna commanded.

You let him fuck your mouth as your hands moved away from his other cock. More than anything, you needed your hold on him for stability. While your body was shaking with every thrust of his cock inside your mouth, his hand a tight grip in your hair keeping your head steady. Your trembling hands moved to weakly remove your obi and push the hems of the kimono away, the soft fabric slipping off your shoulders and falling around you on the floor. You had almost forgot people were watching, but you heart a faint constrained reaction from the crowd as your naked body was revealed. They could only see your back, some of the lucky ones your large breasts from the side as they jiggled in the rhythm of master Sukuna’s movements. Your hands desperately searched to get a hold of his body as soon as you fulfilled his command. One of your hands found his thigh while the other faintly touched his lower cock before he pulled out of your mouth.

You could feel the taste of his precum deep inside your throat. His upper left hand grabbed your jaw harshly. He pulled your face closer to him, forcing you up from the floor. If he wanted to, he could throw you away from up there, and you would land on the other side of the room, skull crushed against the wall. The thought sent terror through your entire body and you began shaking in fear. Instead of this, he held you by the jaw a few inches away from his face, forcing you to look him in the eyes. He could see the distress in your eyes and he grinned maniacally. You could feel his hot breath on your face as his cocks rubbed against your chest, between your breasts, while his large lower hands cupped them together, his sharp nails scratching the soft sensitive skin. Eager to satisfy his needs and cling to your pathetic life, you moved your body along his length, creating friction between his cocks and your breasts. Your hands grabbed his forearms for support as you moved and his grip on your jaw softened, allowing you to move up and down as you needed. He cooed in approval against your lips, only for you to hear. A good sign.

“You’re so eager to please.” He said loudly, for everyone to hear. You wanted to play along, let yourself consumed by the humiliation of the servants seeing you being used like a sexual object only for Sukuna’s pleasure. The more time your spent looking in his darkened red eyes, the more you forgot about the people watching. No, that was wrong. You were not forgetting. You were enjoying it.

“Yes ma-“ You noticed his lower eye look to the side full of rage right before the screams of people covered the low sloppy sounds of his cocks fucking your tits.

"Silence." He growled and the commotion stopped, people biting their tongues and looking away from the headless body on the floor, head rolled a few feet away.

Some were sobbing. Others were frozen with terror. The man that just died in an instant was about to touch himself, turned on by the sight of you. No one was allowed to take pleasure in what belonged to Sukuna. You felt his cocks throbbing even more aroused between your breasts and you knew it wasn't just the warm and soft feeling of your body that got him that hard.

Violence turns him on.

Sukuna pushed you by the head, forcing you to take one of his cocks in your mouth again. This time he was aiming to cum, as both his upper hands were holding your head in place, with each movement the tip of his cock hitting the back of your throat as he groaned like a beast. Your hands grabbed his thighs, nails digging into his skin as you took his entire length in and out of your mouth, your tongue running along the veins of his cock. You took a chance to look up at him, knowing he enjoyed the sight of your face while he fucked it relentlessly, teary eyes and brows furrowed upwards in a helpless expression. Instead, you saw his head thrown back in pleasure, mouth slightly open to let out ungodly sounds. Tears fell down your cheeks but you enjoyed the sound of his grunts, and you joined him with moans that reverberated around his girth. He came in no time, one cock inside your mouth the other on your chest. You swallowed all that he gave to you as the tip of his cock softly rubbed against your lips, the last drops of his milky seed dripping at the edges of your mouth.

“Thank you, my lord.” You moaned, grateful, looking up at him through your lashes, waiting anxiously for his next move.

You heard several overlapping sounds of meat slashing, blood spilling and bodies falling on the floor. Sukuna was taking his time effortlessly killing every single man whose dick got unbearably hard because of you, one by one. You were still with your back turned to the crowd so you could only imagine the number of butchered people and the terrified sight of the ones still left alive.

Sukuna let his robe fall off his shoulders on the throne as he leaned down to grab you by the waist, pulling you up over his large shoulder as he descended the stairs. You let your small body relax, hanging over his muscular one, your soft belly pressed against his shoulder. One hand held you firmly by the waist while the other had both your ankles in a lose grip, holding you in place as he walked down the stairs. He was completely naked as were you. Your feet dangled against his abdomen, your ass and leaking cunt exposed. You didn’t even realize you had gotten so wet until the cool air hit your folds. He could feel your juices on his chest as your thighs rubbed together against his skin and he grinned to himself. He hadn’t even done anything to you yet.

With his every step, you could see more and more of the people filling the room. It was a horrifying sight. Blood was pooling on the floor, people were trying to avoid looking at the dead bodies while also avoiding looking at their master, looking at you, at the same time. It was impossible. Your accusers, who were so certain they would get rid of you, were dying one by one.

Sukuna let you fall off his shoulder on the mattress in the middle of the room. So he had it prepared for this, you thought. Suddenly, as you were laying on your back while he stood up next to you, waiting, you became extremely aware of all the eyes looking at your naked body. Up on the throne you felt safer, above everyone else. Who cared if they were watching you choke on their master’s cocks? But down here, with all these people, blood and killing surrounding you, a spark of fright erupted in your mind. What if master Sukuna was going to leave you here? Wasn’t this the most sadistic end you could meet? He got the servants tormented by the deaths of their own, all because of you, and now he was going to let them get their revenge. They would tear you to pieces. You desperately tried to hide your large breasts with your arms, pressing your legs together as if he didn’t parade around with you and your soaking cunt over his shoulder moments ago. You looked up at him with wide doubtful eyes. When did you become so uneasy in his presence?

“You really don’t get it, do you?” You didn’t know at whom this question was directed. His voice was coated with a thick sense of dominance.

In the following seconds, you saw three people falling to the ground, blood spilling out of their bodies. Sukuna kneeled down next to you, grabbing you by the ankles and raising your legs up in the air. The back of your thighs pressed against his abdomen where his tongue rolled out and licked the soft skin. You whimpered, feeling the burning sensation in your lower body that meant one thing you knew very well. Your cunt needed him. Your legs eagerly wrapped around his neck, the feeling of his soft pink hair on your skin making your shiver. You tried pulling him closer to you, but he only watched, amused. You were struggling to have his body closer to yours, get him to penetrate you already. His lower arms pinned your legs in place while another hand lightly slapped you across the face.

“Beg.”

You had never quite felt the need for him to own you like you did right now. You were desperately clinging to him, ever fiber in your being telling you that the only way you could be safe, the only place you belonged to was in his possession.

“Please master.” You whined, without any second thought.

Somehow, only unconsciously, you knew that the reason he took a liking to you was that you weren’t afraid of him. Not once before this day did you doubt your master. The fact that you found him ravishing, the fact that you carnally wanted him so bad out of your own accord, it was something he never expected but got addicted to. Sure, taking whatever he wanted whenever he wanted gave him a sort of high only power could attain. But to feel needed, to feel wanted like you wanted him, to have you suck on his cocks so eagerly, beg for him to fuck you like an animal, cry out in pleasure because of his touch, Sukuna would never give up on these things.

“Please, punish me like I deserve.”

You gasped out of air when you felt his lower cock easily sink deep into your moist pussy, while his top cock rubbed against your folds. The feeling of your warm walls clenching around his girth sent a wave of indescribable pleasure through him, a pleasure that only made him eager to chase even more. His movements picked up a fast paced rhythm from the start, balls slamming against your ass with every slap of his hips against yours. He had his upper arms around your legs, keeping them up on one of his shoulders, while his other rough large hands were grabbing your breasts, kneading, playing with your nipples. You began moaning uncontrollably, the mixed sensation of the cock inside your cunt and the stimulation of the cock rubbing against your folds and over your clit with each thrust sending overwhelming waves of pleasure through your body. Your fists were grabbing the mattress tightly, your body hot and sweaty.

Through half open eyes you could see the golden hairpin on the floor and a woman trying to walk and pick it up. Fool. She really thought Sukuna wouldn’t see her, too drunk on your body to pay attention to his surroundings anymore. You could understand, though. Any man fucking with such violence and focus like he was thrusting inside of you was sure to lose all his other senses. But Sukuna wasn’t just a man. He was your god. Part of you wanted to warn her, tell her not to test her luck. Her head was sliced off her neck right when she was ready to reach out and grab the hairpin.

Your eyes were already tightly shut when that happened, the feeling of Sukuna’s cock throbbing inside you ready to release having your walls clench around him and your whines louder, more desperate as you approached your orgasm as well. He pushed your legs open, leaning over you, reaching deeper and deeper into your sensitive hole. You felt the wet tongue on his abdomen again, licking the sweat off your tummy, circling around your navel. The strain on your thighs was getting more and more painful the more he pushed his heavy body against yours.

“I would massacre the whole country for you.” He grunted against your lips.

His name reverberated in the room when you screamed it as your orgasm washed over you. His cum filled your hole, his sticky seed overflowing and dripping along your thighs and your ass. His other cock released his seed on your belly. Your fucked out face was the most beautiful thing Sukuna had ever witnessed in his life. All hot and sweaty, hair a mess around you like a halo, biting your lips, your eyes closed your eyebrows furrowed as if you still felt him inside you. The sight of your body covered in his seed, marking you as his and his only. It only made him want to ruin you even more. You opened your eyes lazily, your chest rising and falling with big movements as you sucked air inside your lungs.

You saw his eyes already fixed on you. Around the room was only death and blood and despair, while Sukuna sat down calmly, eyes fixed on you. You lost count of how many people were dead and how many were still watching. He didn’t call out for you, didn’t gesture in any way, but his eyes were imperative, commanding you without any effort. You forced your body up, supporting your weight on your arms. You crawled to him slowly, already feeling a mellow pain between your legs that would sure hurt a lot more the next day. He welcomed you at his side, a hand placed between your shoulder blades gently pushing you over his lap. You laid on your belly obediently over his strong thighs. His fingers ghosted over the line of your spine passing over the round curve of your ass.

His right hand was still aimlessly feeling the smoothness of your skin when his other right palm landed in a harsh slap over you other cheek. You cried out in pain, right before you felt two fingers of his left hand savagely pushed inside your mouth. You sucked on his fingers as he landed the second, then the third slap, the muffled sounds of your whines echoing from your throat. He spanked you again, in the same spot, and your eyes filled with tears at the growingly stinging sensation. Sukuna was consumed by your touch, by your scent. He loved how easily you got wet because of him. He could smell it before you were even aware of it. When he pulled you up from the floor, carrying you on his shoulder, your cunt was so close to his face, so obviously releasing that delicious scent of your leaking arousal that had his mouth water. Now he had you sprawled on his lap, the need to consume you insatiable. The urge to abuse your body until you were a trembling mess, unable to control it anymore. He leaned over just when you were expecting another painful slap and he sank his teeth into the plump flesh of your ass. He was careful enough not to seriously hurt you, but impatient to feel you in every way, leave his mark wherever he could. You cried out, drool falling at the corners of your mouth around his fingers. He pulled his teeth away and licked the round red mark left on your skin, making you shiver.

Another slap landed on your other ass cheek and he grabbed a fistful of your hair with his free left hand, forcing your body to arch painfully much. He leaned his face closer to yours, fingers still in your mouth. You looked at him from the corner of your eye, his deep red eyes swallowing you whole.

“Who do you belong to, slut?” When you tried to answer you choked on his fingers, unable to articulate any word.

He slapped you again, his other hand squeezing between your thighs. He could feel your juices mixed with his cum drip over his thigh. Sukuna knew slapping your ass was guaranteed to have your cunt drenched. He wouldn’t repeat himself. You squeezed your eyes shut when his large hand landed another slap, his fingers slightly pulling away from your mouth, allowing you to speak.

“I belong to you, master.” His fingers fell from your lips down your jaw to have your neck in a tight grip, choking you and forcing you to look at him.

“Then you can take your master’s cocks at the same time, can’t you?”

“Yes, master.” You replied weakly. He slapped your face, demanding a better, more convincing answer. “Please, master. I need both your cocks inside me.”

Sukuna seemed pleased with your answer, grinning at your deplorable state. You pushed your muscles to stand but he quickly and easily handled your body, using you as he pleased. He had you on all fours, your face sunk in the mattress soaked with your sweat. He ran his palm along your pussy, feeling his fingers slip, drenched in your arousal, as his lower arms had your hips pinned exactly where he needed you. You cried out in pain, feeling both his cocks stretching your walls. He was massive anyway, and now you had to take double the size. As dripping wet as you were, you still whined in discomfort when he forced himself into you. The mattress was wet with your tears and the room filled with your cries of pain that gradually turned into moans as you adjusted around him and pleasure overcame the pain. He slammed his hips violently against your ass, pulling you into him, his nails digging in your skin. One of his hands was on your head, pushing it further, keeping you in place as if you were a doll specifically made to fulfill his needs.

The beastly sounds he let out seemed to come from deeper inside his being, so savage and violent that seemed he was going to break you in half. You were too fucked out to pick up the sounds around you anymore, only his animalistic groans as he hit your insides, covering your moans and whimpers. You only felt a faint splash of hot thick liquid falling at your sides and the smell of fresh blood mixing with the smell of sex. You didn’t open your eyes until you were out of the room, not even when Sukuna came again inside you, his cum not fitting inside your pussy anymore, leaking out, spilling on the mattress and on your ass. Your body fell limp, exhausted and dirty, as soon as he let you out of his grip. The room grew silent like a grave, only Sukuna’s panting triumphantly overcoming everything.

You felt him pick you up in his arms and carry you in the other room, where two frightened servant girls wiped your body clean of the cum, sweat and blood. You moaned in pain when the wet cloth grazed against parts of your body that were already turning purple. Your body was starting to feel cold.

The feeling of being submerged in warm water was the most comforting thing. That is until you felt Sukuna’s large frame behind you, your back resting against his chest, his hands gently pouring water over your shoulders. You sank into his embrace, flesh melting on your bones. His lips hovered above yours, as if testing to see if you were awake. Or if you would allow it? You pressed your lips against his weakly, and he kissed you gently, almost surprised that he was capable of such a soft touch. You opened your eyes languidly, the first thing you saw being the half opened door that lead to the room where a few servants were already cleaning up the blood and bodies. As if you had only dreamed about it, you blinked several times. Sukuna had killed all the people that accused you.

“So, did you?” Sukuna’s husky voice gently purred in your ear.

“Hm?” You asked, eyes still on the other room, as if you didn’t hear.

“Did you fuck the servant from the kitchen?” He asked calmly, almost unbothered, as if he didn’t kill so many people because of it. Your back straightened and your head turned to him, finding the last bit of strength in indignation.

“Of course not!” He grinned at your fervor. “Did you… ever consider it to be true?”

“I don’t need unthankful servants to tell me. I would smell it on you.” There was a hint of threat in his voice, like warning you not to ever do something you would regret. When you looked at him questioningly, he pulled you closer, pushing your back against him, his cheek touching your soft hair. His hand cupped one of your breasts as he spoke, squeezing it, running his fingers over your warm skin. “If you’re afraid, if you’re sad, if you’re angry, if you’re horny. I can smell it on you.” His other hand ran down on your body, fingers resting just above your pussy. “Now imagine if someone else touches you. You would reek of dirty human.” You were sore already, drained. But you didn’t fight his touch, you didn’t try to stop him.

“I am a human too, master Sukuna.” You said and your breath hitched when you felt his fingers lightly rub circles around your clit.

“No.” He argued, your heavy breaths filling the room. He knew you didn’t get the chance to cum the last time. “You are my queen.”

With your eyes closed your hands searched for his. He took your hands in each of his, resting at the edge of the tub, intertwining your fingers together. Your soft whimpers echoed according to the motion of his fingers and he kissed your hair, encouraging you through your orgasm.

The water was starting to get cold. You were resting there in silence, your mind rewinding everything that happened. Sukuna said he could smell fear. Did he smell the fear on you when you first walked in? When you thought he was going to kill you? When you feared he was going to leave you at the hands of his servants? Instead, he called you his queen.

“There’s… someone.” You said instead, not daring to ask these questions. The silhouette of a man standing still in the hall was visible through the half open door.

“Oh? Yeah, it’s the boy from the kitchen. I haven't decided what to do with him yet.” Sukuna replied. “He’s the only one who defended you. But then again, what could he say? Defending you means defending himself.”

“Someone needs to live to tell the tale.” You mumbled. He cocked his head to the side, encouraging you to continue. “I would free him from your service. Give him some money. He will surely spread the tale of the ruthless Ryomen Sukuna.” He didn't reply. You doubted he was going to listen to your suggestion. 

That night was the first time you went to sleep by his side. Usually you would pick up the moment after he was satisfied enough with your presence and retreated. He never commanded you to leave but never signaled he wanted you to stay, either. This time he carried you in his arms to your new room. You were probably not able to walk on your own anyway. He was going to have you moved away from the servants, closer to his chambers, he explained when he slided the door open. He laid you down on the freshly clean mattress before you felt his large frame next to you. You quickly scooped closer, with much effort since all the muscles in your body felt sore. With your head on his chest, one arm over his wide muscular torso, you fell asleep faster than ever, fatigue winning over your body. The last thing you remembered was the feeling of his fingers in your hair, while his lower hand was softly laying on your hip. You've never felt so relaxed before.

When you woke up, the painful sensation between your legs hit your brain before you were even able to open your eyes. Sukuna was nowhere to be seen. You didn't even feel him leaving your side, fallen deep in your undisturbed sleep. Next to the mattress, on a small low table, a covered tray was waiting for you to wake up. On a small note, written by hand, a message greeted you.

Regain your strength soon, my queen

《《previous Corruption | next 》》 The Hunt |

Geto Suguru x Reader True Form! Sukuna x Reader

[theplotmage]

50 Supernatural Entities to Haunt Your Halloween Night for Paranormal Fantasy Writers:

1. Vampire

Description: Blood-drinking creatures of the night.

What They Do: Feed on the blood of the living, sometimes charming their victims first.

Appearance: Pale skin, sharp fangs, often dressed in dark, old-fashioned clothing.

2. Werewolf

Description: Human by day, wolf-like beast by full moon.

What They Do: Transform into violent wolves and hunt at night.

Appearance: Muscular, covered in fur, with fangs and claws; halfway between wolf and human.

3. Ghost

Description: Spirit of a deceased person.

What They Do: Haunt places they have ties to, usually in a restless state.

Appearance: Translucent, often resembling the person they were in life.

4. Banshee

Description: A female spirit who forewarns of death.

What They Do: Wails loudly to signal someone’s impending death.

Appearance: Gaunt, with long hair and wearing white or gray robes.

5. Poltergeist

Description: Mischievous, noisy spirit.

What They Do: Throws objects, slams doors, and causes disturbances.

Appearance: Invisible but known for chaotic energy and moving objects.

6. Revenant

Description: Corpse risen from the grave for vengeance.

What They Do: Seeks revenge on those who wronged them in life.

Appearance: Decayed and skeletal, with tattered clothing.

7. Wendigo

Description: Cursed, cannibalistic spirit.

What They Do: Feeds on human flesh and spreads madness.

Appearance: Tall, emaciated with antlers and pale, cold skin.

8. Zombie

Description: Reanimated corpse, often mindless.

What They Do: Wander in search of living flesh to consume.

Appearance: Rotting, decayed, with vacant eyes.

9. Ghoul

Description: Creature that feeds on the dead.

What They Do: Raids cemeteries, feasting on corpses.

Appearance: Grayish, decayed, with sharp claws and teeth.

10. Shadow Person

Description: Mysterious dark figure, often seen in peripheral vision.

What They Do: Follows or observes humans, inducing fear.

Appearance: Tall, dark silhouette without detailed features.

11. Lich

Description: Undead sorcerer who achieved immortality.

What They Do: Uses dark magic to control other undead beings.

Appearance: Skeletal, with tattered robes and glowing eyes.

12. Mummy

Description: Reanimated, embalmed corpse from ancient tombs.

What They Do: Seeks vengeance or protects their treasures.

Appearance: Wrapped in bandages, often missing pieces.

13. Grim Reaper

Description: Personification of death.

What They Do: Collects souls of the deceased.

Appearance: Hooded figure in a black robe, carrying a scythe.

14. Succubus

Description: Female demon that seduces men.

What They Do: Drains life energy through intimate encounters.

Appearance: Attractive, sometimes with bat wings and horns.

15. Incubus

Description: Male counterpart to the succubus.

What They Do: Preys on women, draining their life force.

Appearance: Handsome, often with dark or demonic features.

16. Dullahan

Description: Headless horseman from Irish mythology.

What They Do: Rides a black horse, heralding death.

Appearance: Carries their own head, glowing eyes, wearing dark armor.

17. Necromancer

Description: Sorcerer who commands the dead.

What They Do: Raises and controls undead creatures.

Appearance: Dark robes, carrying a staff or book of spells.

18. Hellhound

Description: Fiery, demonic dog from hell.

What They Do: Guards the underworld, hunts souls.

Appearance: Large black dog with glowing red eyes and flames.

19. Draugr

Description: Undead Norse warrior.

What They Do: Guards treasure and attacks intruders.

Appearance: Bloated, decaying corpse with armor.

20. Chupacabra

Description: Beast that preys on livestock.

What They Do: Drains blood from animals, mainly goats.

Appearance: Reptilian, with spines and sharp teeth.

21. Djinn

Description: Ancient spirit capable of granting wishes, often with a trick.

What They Do: Manipulates wishes to harm the wish-maker.

Appearance: Wispy, ethereal, with sometimes human features.

22. Yurei

Description: Vengeful spirit from Japanese folklore.

What They Do: Haunts those who wronged them in life.

Appearance: Pale, disheveled, with long, dark hair.

23. Headless Horseman

Description: Decapitated rider seeking revenge.

What They Do: Rides at night, often hunting for a head.

Appearance: Headless, in dark clothing, riding a black horse.

24. Gorgon

Description: Snake-haired monster that can turn people to stone.

What They Do: Hunts or curses those who look upon her.

Appearance: Female, with snakes for hair and a terrifying visage.

25. Kraken

Description: Giant sea monster, often attacking ships.

What They Do: Destroys ships, drags sailors underwater.

Appearance: Gigantic, tentacled beast resembling an octopus.

26. Nosferatu

Description: An older, monstrous version of a vampire.

What They Do: Preys on blood, more feral than elegant vampires.

Appearance: Rat-like features, bald, with elongated claws.

27. Shtriga

Description: Witch from Albanian folklore that preys on children.

What They Do: Sucks life energy from young children.

Appearance: Elderly, shriveled, with a long, pointed nose.

28. Jiangshi

Description: Chinese hopping vampire.

What They Do: Drains life force, hopping instead of walking.

Appearance: Rigid, dressed in ancient attire with a pale face.

29. Aswang

Description: Filipino shapeshifting creature.

What They Do: Hunts humans, especially at night.

Appearance: Changes from human to monstrous form with long tongue.

30. Noppera-bo

Description: Japanese faceless ghost.

What They Do: Terrifies people by erasing their face.

Appearance: Normal human but with a blank face.

31. Kitsune

Description: Fox spirit from Japanese folklore.

What They Do: Plays tricks on humans, can possess or enchant.

Appearance: Fox with multiple tails or as a human with fox traits.

32. Rakshasa

Description: Demonic being from Hindu mythology.

What They Do: Devours humans, uses magic to deceive.

Appearance: Animal-like face, often with fangs and claws.

33. Wraith

Description: Malevolent spirit tied to a place of death.

What They Do: Harms those who enter their territory.

Appearance: Shadowy, with skeletal hands and a hooded cloak.

34. Ghast

Description: Larger, more terrifying version of a ghoul.

What They Do: Consumes living and dead flesh.

Appearance: Grayish, skeletal, with sharp teeth.

35. Kappa

Description: Water demon from Japanese folklore.

What They Do: Drowns humans and feeds on them.

Appearance: Humanoid with a beak, webbed hands, and water-filled head.

36. Selkie

Description: Mythical seal creature that transforms into human form.

What They Do: Lives as human on land, as a seal in water.

Appearance: Human with soft features, seal-like in water.

37. Manananggal

Description: Filipino monster that detaches its torso to fly.

What They Do: Feeds on unborn children and blood.

Appearance: Upper body separates and grows wings at night.

38. Gashadokuro

Description: Giant skeletal monster from Japanese folklore.

What They Do: Crushes and devours people.

Appearance: Enormous, skeletal, with fiery eyes.

39. Pontianak

Description: Vengeful female spirit from Malaysian folklore.

What They Do: Attacks men, especially those who wronged her in life.

Appearance: Beautiful, but transforms into a blood-stained, terrifying figure with long nails.

40. Strigoi

Description: Undead creature from Romanian folklore, precursor to modern vampires.

What They Do: Rises from the grave to feed on blood or energy.

Appearance: Gaunt, pale, with sharp teeth, sometimes bearing claw-like nails.

41. Demon

Description: Evil entity from various mythologies.

What They Do: Possesses or torments humans, spreading chaos.

Appearance: Often with horns, red skin, and menacing features, sometimes invisible.

42. La Llorona

Description: “The Weeping Woman” from Mexican folklore.

What They Do: Wanders near bodies of water, crying for her lost children.

Appearance: Pale, drenched in white, with a sorrowful, ghostly presence.

43. Kelpie

Description: Shape-shifting water spirit from Scottish folklore.

What They Do: Lures people, usually children, into water to drown them.

Appearance: Often a beautiful horse, but can appear as human.

44. Dybbuk

Description: Malevolent spirit from Jewish folklore.

What They Do: Possesses living people, usually to fulfill unfinished business.

Appearance: Invisible, but exerts dark energy around the possessed.

45. Hag

Description: Wicked, old woman often associated with witchcraft.

What They Do: Casts curses, manipulates people, sometimes feeds on fear.

Appearance: Elderly, with wrinkled skin, often carrying magical trinkets.

46. Mare

Description: Spirit that causes nightmares.

What They Do: Sits on the chests of sleeping people, creating disturbing dreams.

Appearance: Shadowy, mist-like figure, sometimes with a vague human shape.

47. Fenrir

Description: Gigantic, mythical wolf from Norse mythology.

What They Do: Destined to bring about Ragnarok, devouring gods.

Appearance: Massive, fierce wolf with powerful jaws.

48. Tengu

Description: Supernatural creatures from Japanese folklore, part bird and part human.

What They Do: Mischievous or malevolent; protect forests and mountains.

Appearance: Humanoid with bird wings, red face, and often a long nose.

49. Doppelganger

Description: An exact double or duplicate of a living person.

What They Do: Appears to forewarn misfortune or even bring harm.

Appearance: Identical to a specific person, but with an eerie, lifeless presence.

50. Nightmare Horse

Description: Fiery, demonic horse that haunts dreams and the night.

What They Do: Gallops through night skies, bringing fear to those who see it.

Appearance: Black horse with glowing red eyes and flaming mane and hooves.

[candycandy00]

Forest Guide - A Toji x Reader Fanfic

Smut. 18+. Toji x Fem Reader. Rough sex. Virgin reader. Size difference. Breeding. Monster fucking. Non-con! Dividers by @benkeibear!

Part of CandyCandy’s 2k Followers Event! Any feedback whatsoever would be adored! For @idk1375.

When you heard the rumors of a werewolf stalking the woods in the next town over, you figured it would be a great topic for your supernatural themed podcast. So you packed up your gear and headed on over. You put a post on a local forum asking for a guide to take you into the forest, explaining that you were investigating the werewolf rumors, and a man named Toji volunteered. He didn’t even ask to be paid. 

So now you find yourself standing in front of the man as he introduces himself. The first thing you notice is that he’s huge, so much taller than you that you have to crane your neck to look up at his face. He’s ruggedly handsome, with dark hair and the kind of physique men spend years in the gym trying to obtain. All of this combined with his deep voice makes him the kind of man you want to call “Daddy”.

You follow him into the woods, thinking to yourself that he could probably fight off a werewolf with his bare hands. He makes friendly conversation along the way, telling you about some of the rumors you’ve heard, but seeming to have more information about each incident than you read online. Probably because he’s a local. 

He leads you so deeply into the forest that the sun is almost completely blotted out by the trees, making it seem much later and darker than it actually is. It looks like night has fallen, though you know it’s only the afternoon. 

Toji stops in a clearing, surrounded on all sides by towering trees, and turns to look at you. 

“This is the werewolf’s favorite spot to take his victims and feed,” he tells you, a lazy smile on his lips. 

Huh? How does he know that? Wait…

You turn to run back out the way you came, not wanting to wait and find out if your terrible assumption is correct. Either he’s a serial killer pretending to be a werewolf, or…

An ear splitting howl assaults your ears as you reach the tree line, and you hear the sound of fabric ripping. You can’t resist. Two years of running a podcast dedicated to exactly this sort of thing has made you too curious, so you find yourself looking back, even though the logical part of your brain is telling you not to. 

Charging straight for you is Toji, his shirt completely ripped off and his pants shredded. He’s at least nine feet tall now, and the outer edges of his body are covered in a thin layer of black shiny fur. His chest and abdomen, trailing down until his pants cover the rest, are bare, like the reverse of a normal hairy man. 

He catches you in an instant, forcing you to the forest floor on your back, the claws on his hands digging into your shoulders and drawing blood. He leans over you, and you can see that his face has remained nearly unchanged, except for glowing red eyes and a full set of razor sharp teeth.

“You were lookin’ for a werewolf,” he says, his voice even deeper than before, “well you found one, girlie!”

You shriek in terror, thrashing about wildly beneath him. But it’s no use. He’s far too big, too heavy, too strong, for you to budge even an inch. 

“Please don’t kill me!” you cry pitifully, tears streaming down your face as your body goes limp. 

He grins, showing off his teeth. “Now why would I do that to a cute little thing like you?”

With that, he rips off your T-shirt with one swipe, as if it’s made of tissue paper. Next go your shorts, and even your panties, leaving you stunned and completely exposed. 

You scream again, clamping your legs shut, a renewed vigor in your struggle as you realize what he intends to do. 

“I could smell it on you the moment we met,” he says, pinning your bare arms above your head. “You’re untouched by a man.”

You freeze, your eyes widening and your skin burning with embarrassment. He knows you’re a virgin, from scent alone?

He draws back slightly and lets his red eyes roam over your nude body, settling on the spot you’re trying to hard to protect with your pressed thighs. 

“I could smell something else too,” he adds, a low rumbling chuckle escaping his wide mouth. 

He leaves one large hand to hold your wrists together, and lets the other slide down, effortlessly parting your thighs despite your best efforts to keep them closed. You flinch as you feel a clawed finger glide up your slit, then he holds the finger up so that you can see the sticky, glistening fluid dripping off it. 

“I could smell this.”

You close your eyes and turn your face away, too humiliated and horrified to look at him. But he grips your face and turns it back to him. “Don’t go closin’ your eyes, girlie. You’ll wanna see what’s coming.”

You open your eyes and watch, petrified, as he rips the shredded remains of his pants off. And there, between his muscular, fur-covered legs, is a gigantic erection. You’ve heard the term “monster cock” before, but you never imagined even a real, literal monster cock would be this huge. You scream, trying again to close your legs, but he’s already positioned himself between them. 

“Please, no! That thing will kill me!”

He leans his face down close to yours. “I think you can take it,” he says. Then he closes his mouth over yours, plunging his tongue into you, just as he shoves his entire, giant cock into your virgin pussy. 

You scream into his mouth, the sound muffled by his lips, as your body jerks with pain. He gives a few deep, ripping thrusts before he breaks the kiss, grinning down at your sobbing face. “Don’t pass out,” he tells you as your vision starts to go fuzzy. He releases your wrists, knowing there’s nothing you can do regardless, and slowly rakes his claws down your chest. It’s not enough pressure to draw blood, but enough to make you snap to attention at the possibility. 

He fucks into you, so hard and deep that you have no idea how you’re still alive and not bleeding out. He watches your face, making sure you’re awake and aware, eventually moving one hand down to where your bodies meet. Again, you feel a clawed finger in your slick folds, but this time he finds your clit, stroking it and then gently scraping his claw across it. 

You jolt, the unexpected pleasure hitting you like a truck. And then his mouth is on yours again, absorbing the pitiful moans you can’t suppress. 

When you cum, even you are shocked, staring up at him with a stunned, tear-streaked face as your body trembles. 

He laughs again. “Look at you! Cummin’ on my cock even though it’s your first time gettin’ fucked! This little pussy feels so good, I might just put a pup in you!”

You shake your head frantically. “No no no!”

But it’s too late. He shoves in as deeply as he can, and you feel his thick, hot cum filling your womb all the way up. 

He stays that way, buried completely inside you, until he’s sure he’s emptied himself. Then he pulls out. You look down, see that his cock is covered in blood and cum, and you fall back against the ground, exhausted. 

He stands up, and as he does so, reverts to his handsome human form. “If you survive, I’m gonna make you my bride,” he says. You don’t have the energy to respond. He bends down and picks your sore, twitching body up from the ground. “But first, let me take you back to my place and lick your wounds.”

Heat floods your face at those words. You reflexively curl against his strong chest, wondering if you’re now living a nightmare, or a dream. 

[iloveaustinelvisandmannymore]

Miss Wolf.

Pairing: Toji fushiguro x hybrid reader (human with ears and a tail)

Warning: Abuse, black marketing, Murder, Owner-pet to lovers, Protective toji, Oral (male), Creampie, Baby fever, Breeding kink, Tail pulling Degrading kink, Praise kink, Hybrid discrimination. (Fan art, not mine)

"Sold! For 34,000 yen!"

Toji's eyes snapped open as his snores came to a stop, his body jerking from its laid-back state. "Goddamn." Toji groaned as he tried to rub away his headache. The fucking bastard Toji had been tailing must of never heard of resting, the old geezer always had something to attend to. It never stopped. Sighing Toji fixed his black tie and drooped his arms on the chair behind him as he boredly watched the betting. Black markets weren't Toji's thing, yes he killed people for money but he wasn't that evil compared to the sick fucks around him as he blended with the crowd, his target right on stage.

"Okay, now let's move on to the most beautiful piece of all," his target exclaimed, dramatically extending his arm as two men brought out a large cage covered with a blanket. When the men removed the cover and the light shone on it, the assassin became interested for the first time that night. Despite your weak appearance, you growled fiercely, baring your sharp teeth and emanating a fiery hatred. The target then began the bets. "A wolf hybrid, pucked straight for the wild and when in full animal form, beautiful grey fur coat and the most gold eyes you will have seen. Bidding will start at 120,000 yen!" like that, hands raised and the price went up. "And Sold! For 290,000 ye-" The announcer's sentence was cut short as a bullet shot through his forehead, blood gushed out like a river and his big body fell to the floor, screams erupted within the crowd, and people ran for cover. Toji paid them no mind, calmly walking to the stage, pistol in hand, once and a while shooting down brave guards.

"Well, aren't you a beauty?" Toji hummed as he squatted down in front of you. Toji reached a hand through the grimy cage and towards you. Your (eye color) eyes flicked to his hand, then to his face, as his hand came closer, and without hesitation your sharp fangs piece the side of his hand, blood spurt out the wound as you bit down. Toji's lips spread into a smile as an amused glint came to his eyes, "such a feisty girl." He cooed, calmly pinching your nose, blocking your air supply and forcing you to let go, you did so with a growl as your ears laid back on your head, "Let's go home, yeah?"

Toji stirred wake to a scorching wet, sentiency surrounding his fat cock, a feel he knew all too well. "Having fun puppy?" He chuckled and threw off his blanket, revealing a cum-worthy view, of his little puppy between his thick brawn thighs, your mouth stuffed full of his dick, cheeks puffy and pretty bedroom eyes looking at him through those beautiful long lashes. Sighing contently toji's hand griped the strands of your soft hair and pulled you off, earning a disappointing and needy growl from you, "What do ya think you're doing huh?" He asked, sitting up on his elbow, those smaragdine eyes boring into you with lustful intent. "Y-you smelled so good! I just wanted a taste, sir!" You whined, diving to take him into your maw but it was useless as the most it did was give your hair a painful tug. Toji shook his head, tsking at you "You know better." Was all he said as he let go of your hair and laid back, one hand behind his head.

he pointed to his twitching cock and you knew exactly what he wanted.

And without your permission, your fluffy tail wagged in excitement as you scurried on top of your lover's broad hips, his girthy length stood tall and at attention. You can already feel your flower, grow wet with your shiny slick at the sight of toji. His hands behind his silk ebony hair, eyes lidded, face sexily stoic, his biceps flexed, hard, sculpted chest and abs flaunted.

You couldn't take it anymore, with one hand you lined his cock to your heat and slid down. Delicious inch by inch his member stretched your walls, until he was sheath all inside, and his cock rested against your sweet spot. Panting,your tongue rolled out as you lifted your hips and slammed down, your hips bucking wildly, his hairy rough pubes grinded against your oversensitive clit in a way that had you seeing stars. Your skin soon because wet, and slippery with a shen of sweat as you moved your legs into a squad position, and bounced onto your lovers cock with more leverage then before. Your claw dug into the pecs of Toji's chest, his large hands on your waist, jerking upward once he was fully within you.

yelping as your breasts meshed against Toji's chest, his strong arms wrapped around you, pushing you and pinning you down as he worked his dick in your slick, plush cunt, bumping, and stroking your walls and cervix "Fuckin' love your pussy puppy, so slutty 'n needy f' my cock." Toji growled, planting his feet onto the mattress and snapped his hips faster. with a cry, your orgasm hit you like a train, "Shit! That's my whore, gonna give ya some puppies! Gonna breed ya fill of me." he groaned, empting himself in your clamping and pulsing pussy.

Too say Toji fushiguro was a morning person would be a lie, if anything he hated mornings. but seeing his little puppy tail wag so fast it was a blur as you excitedly bounced on the heels of your feet as your ears turned ever so way, barely bothered by the collar and leash he was forced to put on you. It wasn't always like this.

It took months almost a year for you to trust him, the first time he tried to feed you, resulted in another bite mark on his arm but slowly by leaving food outside the door you became comfortable and one day you sat beside him as you ate. Two months later you had begun to spend more time with him, watching racing shows together and watching him move around. Days out, you'd hold onto his arm and hide behind him, ears twitching and tail low. It was so cute. Toji didn't know when he had fallen for you but it was one of the best things that happened to him.

Toji let a smile grace his lips as he watched you jump from one side of aisle to the other side, taking in the sight of food and snacks while he leaned against the curt. Even with the number of times you came here you were still so marveled by everything.

By the time he was finally able to get you to leave and head home, it was the afternoon and You were rumbling away about going to the park soon to meet up with shiu and his hybrid Noa as you both walked down the stret then you stopped in your steps, looking to the other side of the side walk and into a ally way before he could ask what was wrong and what the hell you were glaring at when you were rushing through the busy road. "fuck puppy!" Toji growled out, dropping the groceries and using his heavenly restriction to by pass the rushing cars. He heard your snarling before he saw you, and it all made sense, a poor, badded and beaten dog hybrid that looked no older then ten years old stood behind you as you bared your fangs, ears pinned to your head, and pupils growed smaller.

"Move you stupid mutt!" A older man shouted, rising his hand to backhand you when Toji grapped his wrist. "Do we have a problem here?" He asked, stepping in front of you, his eyes narrowing as his grip tighted. "L-let go you bast-" the old man screamed unable to finish when a snap echoed throughout the ally way, "leave." Toji pushed the man way and smirked as the man ran way, holding his broken wrist.

"She is okay?" Toji wondered, standing up as you came into view. "She's fine, a bit scared and tired but fine" you sighed as you laid your head on his chest. The little dog hybrid, whose name you came to know was Aina.

She reminded you so much of your family, your pack.

Your little and bigger siblings, your mom and dad, uncles, aunts and cousins. You were alone, scared, hungry and tired of fighting when they had taken you from everything you knew and in that way she was like you.

You saw you in the way she practically inhaled her food, in the way her dainty fingers latched onto your dark grey tail as you helped her get clean as you did with your mom as a girl her age.

You couldn't let her go, can't let her be alone again

You and toji would be her home now.

A/n: Hey guys...im sorry this so long, life had me through a loop, something happen with my mother, heartbreak and I have lost any will to write until now. So I hope y'all like it.

Taglist: @gina239 , @blake-has-too-much-energy , @shrimphutao4ever, @dinotittes , @taysarchive, @ggvidaworld , @extasyl , @tojishugetiddies , @shadowsandexplosions , @venjrnjrbhrr19 , @kuro-chi69 , @cutesytwt , @tornparts , @thesweetestqueenofall, @faimmm, @bluechocolatemint, @daniella666girl, @trickstercumslut, @kpop-obsessed-kid, @darkstarlight82

[maybe-im-dark]

You know what? Fuck it! I am going to fix X-Men Origins! I love this movie and i'm not ashamed of it! I am gonna write scenes to fill out what was missing in the movie and new scenes to fix the bad ones! Starting with this one! All script style! Maybe some directors will take notice!

---

EXT. WOODS — NIGHT

Logan, much younger, his bone claws freshly discovered, runs through a dense forest alongside Victor. The air is thick with the smell of pine and soil, the sounds of night creatures filling the air. It's after he's learned the truth —that Thomas Logan is his biological father —and the rage from that discovery burns deep in his chest. They are both on the run, outcasts in the wilderness, with only each other to rely on.

But tonight it's not just survival. It's something more —something that makes Logan grit his teeth in pain.

Victor:

(gruff, demanding)

"Again, Jimmy, do it again!"

Logan grits his teeth, his breath ragged. His fists clench at his sides as he braces for the pain. With a snarl, he forces his bone claws to extend from between his knuckles. The jagged bones tear through his skin, breaking through muscle and tendons that have never been used this way before. The pain is excruciating, every movement of the claws sending waves of agony up his arms.

Blood drips from the wounds as the claws fully extend, the pain still fresh in his mind. Logan hunches over, panting, sweat pouring down his face. He tries to push the pain away, but it lingers, throbbing in his every fiber.

Logan:

(growling)

"It hurts, Victor! Every damn time!"

Victor steps closer, towering over his younger brother, his sharp eyes gleaming with something almost predatory.

Victor:

"It's supposed to hurt. It's part of who we are. But you have to get used to it. You need to pop these claws fast —no hesitation."

Logan stares down at his blood-covered hands, the claws still jutting out awkwardly from between his knuckles. The pain hasn't lessened, but there's something else there too —a strange sense of power, of strength. He can feel his instincts, those feral instincts that Victor has talked about, scratching at the surface.

But he isn't ready to let them out. Not yet.

Victor circles him, pushing him harder.

Victor:

"You're holding back, Jimmy. You have to keep practicing until it doesn't matter how much it hurts. Because if you don't, when the time comes, you'll be too slow —and dead!"

Logan clenches his jaw, his muscles tensing. He retracts the claws with a sharp grunt, the sensation of bone pulling back into his flesh equally painful. His skin heals over the wounds quickly, but the memory of the pain lingers. Before he can catch his breath, Victor is at it again, pushing him, forcing him to pop the claws once more.

Victor:

"Again! Faster this time!"

Logan growls, but he obeys, the claws tearing through his skin once more. The pain is unbearable, but each time he does it, the sensation dulls slightly, his body slowly adapting to the unnatural act.

As the night stretches on, they continue. Logan's instincts begin to shift. Each time the claws emerge, it becomes less about pain and more about the hunt. The animal inside him begins to stir, clawing its way to the surface. And as they get older they begin to hunt together —tracking down prey through the forest, moving with a feral grace that neither of them had before.

EXT. FOREST — DAY (YEARS LATER)

Logan, now a young man, taller and broader than before, moves through the woods with Victor. His chest hair has grown in, his mutton chops and weathered skin starting to form the features he's known for. He's no longer the boy who ran from his past. He's a man now, hardened by years of survival, hunting and the painful growth spurts that have reshaped his body.

But it's not just physical. Something inside him has changed. The animal Victor always talked about —the beast in their bloodline —has become more present. Victor, tall and muscular beside him, watches Logan with an almost proud look in his eyes.

Victor:

(approving)

"You're growing into it, Jimmy. That's the animal in you, just like me. Passed down from our father's blood. You've always had it in you."

They've been working hard labor jobs between hunting and fighting for survival. Their bodies have become stronger, more muscular and Logan moves through the world, he feels the weight of his instincts pulling him closer to the beast inside.

But even as Victor encourages it, Logan still holds back. He knows there's a line —a line between the man and the animal and he's not ready to cross it.

Logan:

"I'm not like you, Victor. I'm not gonna give in to it."

Victor laughs, a deep rumbling sound that echoes through the trees.

Victor:

"You're already halfway there, brother. You feel it every time you fight, every time those claws come out. You just don't want to admit it. But one day you'll see it like i do. You'll stop fighting the animal inside you and you'll become who you're meant to be."

Logan turns to face Victor, his expression hard, resolute.

Logan:

"I'm not giving into it! I'm not you!"

Victor's grin fades slightly and something more dangerous flickers in his eyes. He steps closer, his posture aggressive, his voice dropping lower.

Victor:

"You think you're better than me, huh? You think you can keep that part of you locked away? You can't, Jimmy. Sooner or later the animal's gonna come out and when it does...you won't be able to control it."

Logan squares his shoulders, his muscles tense. For the first time, he feels a true challenge from his brother, not just in words, but in the air between them. The tension crackles and before either of them can back down, it explodes into their first fight.

Victor lunges, his nails sharp like claws and Logan recacts instinctively. The bone claws snap out from his hands and he meets Victor's attack with the same ferocity. The forest around them becomes a blur, as the brothers collide, their bodies fueled by the feral strength they both share.

[ichorai]

the wolf and the beast ; toji fushiguro.

part of the A SONG OF CURSES AND CROWNS collection!

pairing ; assassin!toji fushiguro x stark!f!reader

synopsis ; nobody told him that his target had a direwolf.

words ; 3.3k

themes ; fantasy, asoiaf au, assassin au, prisoner au, enemies-to-???

warnings / includes ; mentions of murder, descriptions of injury/blood, classism, foul language, toji hates your wolf, toji stealing from a whorehouse LMAO

main masterlist.

Lannisters paid good money for their dirty work to be done by someone other than them. Toji was more than happy to comply once he heard the price for your head was enough to last him a few years, maybe even more if he stopped betting on jousting events. He asked no questions, and didn’t bother dwelling on the reason why they wanted you dead. Though, if he had to guess, it might have been because you were the most eligible noble lady to be married off to the king (a white-haired cunt, Toji liked to call him). Being Queen Regent of the Seven Kingdoms was clearly a position the Lannisters were hungry to get their claws on. 

Toji didn’t really care. He was just happy to get the gold.

It was supposed to be a simple, easy task. After all, you lived in a cushy castle, draped in expensive furs and coats, eating the softest of breads and drinking the sweetest of nectars. The spoiled brats were always the easiest to take out. 

Getting into Winterfell went smoother than he’d expected. A few miles down the road leading to the castle, he’d killed two men driving a horse-led cart full of wine barrels—meant to be delivered right to Winterfell. 

And so he got through the South gate with ease. The guards interrogated about the wine, and Toji prattled on about the aging process of the alcohol, the special concoction of grapes and infused spices, the sweetness of the reds, the tartness of the gold wines, and whatnot. None of it was really true, of course. Toji just spoke out of his ass, pulled out product papers he found in the satchels of the men he killed, and smiled charmingly when the guard waved his hand to let him pass.

A gangly, young stableboy with red hair and blue eyes escorted him to cellars, where the wine barrels would be stored. And, after asking the little boy, Toji realized, to his utter delight, the Great Keep was just above him. 

Up the cobblestone staircase he went, far louder than a mouse, but Toji moved quick enough for it not to matter. 

There was one problem, however. He hadn’t taken into account the possibility of you not being in your chambers. Which, you clearly weren’t. The entire Keep was silent and vacant, save for a few handmaidens he spotted collecting soiled laundry. He made sure to keep out of their sight.

And so, Toji settled for waiting in the largest chamber—which he assumed was yours, being the Warden of the North and all. He glanced around, inspecting all the trinkets laid about on your desk: silver jewelry, shoddy wooden carvings of wolves, and, interestingly, various scabbarded daggers. He pocketed what looked to be of some value. He inspected some more, lazed around on your large bed, and rifled through the many furs and fine garments in your closet. Many of the dresses he held up to his chest spanned only half the width of his broad shoulders, much to his amusement.

Hours later, once footsteps echoed down the hall, Toji sprang up from the polished wooden chair (he totally hadn’t fallen asleep) and hid behind the door. 

You strode in, covered in dirt, snow, and dried blood. There were leaves clinging to your hair. It seemed that you’d just gotten back from a hunting party. You had yet to spot the tall, burly man in your chambers, your back still to him as you began to shirk off your boots.

That was when Toji moved. 

Curved blades in hand, Toji surged forward and aimed to stab you right through your heart—

You turned around just in time to see your direwolf lunge at the figure, her sharp teeth sinking into Toji’s shoulder. The man let out a startled cry of pain, the weight of the wolf sending him careening down to the ground, his head cracking against one of the posts of your bed. Stars danced about his vision as pain shot down from nearly every part of his body.

Its teeth tore through the musculature of his bicep and collar, its claws tearing through his tunic and the skin of his abdomen with each swipe. Toji landed a poorly aimed strike to the direwolf’s midriff, but she merely grew more aggressive in her ministrations. 

Nobody had told him you had a fucking direwolf.

If he’d known, he would’ve reconsidered taking the job. He still would have agreed, in the end, the gold was too much to turn down, but it would’ve been good information to know beforehand. 

Curse the Lannisters. Curse their gold. Curse you and your stupid pet—

“Down, Reika,” you ordered, which had the accursed beast backing away from him with snarling, bared teeth, dripping with what he assumed was his blood. “Good girl.”

Toji made a strangled noise of pain as he attempted to sit up.

“It’s been a long day,” you stiffly told him, eyes narrowed as you knelt down and pressed one of the daggers from your desk—now unsheathed—right over his jugular. The cold metal kissed his skin and he immediately stopped moving. He could see his weapon scattered an arm’s length behind you. There was no way he could possibly reach it without you slitting his throat first. “Hunting party gone wrong. I wanted nothing more than to come home and take a long, hot bath. And what do I have to deal with? A sad attempt at an assassination, and my carpets covered in your blood.”

Toji scowled, but said nothing in return. 

“Guards,” you said, strangely calm for someone who had nearly (if not for your wretched, overgrown dog) been assassinated. “Take him to the dungeons.”

As Toji was dragged away, leaving a dripping trail of blood in his wake, he caught a glimpse of you kneeling by your wolf, your hand shaking with adrenalized fear you hadn’t dared show in front of him. He was glad he was able to see it—just a glimpse of weakness was more than enough ammunition for him.

The dungeons were cold and dreary. Much like the rest of the North, Toji bitterly thought. It was hard to see as well, for the sparse few torches hanging on the walls only barely lit the walkway. 

He could hear everything, though. Dripping of water in the distance. A raven cawing outside. The torch’s flame whispering greed to the air. Footsteps growing louder—

Toji sat up against the wall when a figure stepped in front of the wrought metal bars, dark with decades of use and age. 

“Food,” came your voice. “I don’t usually do this, you know.”

The man, your prisoner, lazily tilted his head up from his position on the ground to look at you, his gaze dropping down to your hands where one carried a bowl of braised meat and the other held a chalice of wine. The chalice alone was probably worth more than anything he’d ever owned in his life.

“Bring food to a man? I can tell,” Toji dryly responded.

Your expression remained unchanged. “Bring food to a prisoner.”

It was then that Toji noticed a pair of glowing eyes by your legs, the beast’s tale curling over the back of your knees. The maester might have bound him up nice and clean (though not without pursed lips of obvious disapproval), but his wounded shoulder still throbbed with terrible pains. 

“You brought your dog,” he observed.

“Wolf,” you corrected. “Her name is Reika.”

“Wretched thing,” Toji half-heartedly snarled.

The beast snarled back at him. Its eyes, amber and sharp, only grew brighter with agitation.

You decided to ignore his comment. “Do you want to tell me what you were doing in my chambers?”

There was clear disdain in your features, from what little Toji could see of it anyway, but he could also pick up on the evident curiosity there—it wasn’t every day you had to deal with a Southern commoner.

“Won’t make much of a difference now, would it?” he drawled, kicking his feet out so he could rest his elbows over propped-up knees.

“Your choice of words could very likely spark up a war between houses,” you said. It was said as a jest, though you knew it was a large possibility. 

“Would be no fun to start a war if I’m not there to partake,” came his reply. His stomach cinched as he inhaled sharply, the warm smell of peppered venison wafting through his cell. “You came here to give me food and yet you’re still clutching onto it like a babe with its mother’s teat.”

“You have a foul mouth,” you said, now slightly amused. Who knew the Warden of the North had a sense of humor? “Tell me who sent you. Then comes the food.”

Toji glowered some more. For a minute, he considered what you’d do if he simply refused to say anything. But his tummy grumbled, and his resolve dissipated into mist.

“The Lannisters paid me a pretty sum to have you dead,” he said. 

To his interest, you didn’t seem a single bit surprised. “Ah. Yes, I suspected so. Jenna Lannister was particularly prickly to me last we met.”

“Are you going to give me the food or what?” Toji barked, words heavy with irritation. He really couldn't care less about your snooty endeavors.

“I don’t want the throne,” you went on, much to his chagrin. Though, you did lower yourself to his same position and slipped your wrists through the bars to place down the bowl and chalice. “Not the Iron one, at least. The burden is heavy… and the North is enough for me. Marrying the king means I’d have to sire heirs, and I have no interest in doing so. Winterfell is not short of Starks—my brother and his lady wife have had enough little children for our name to carry on the family legacy for centuries.”

Toji could have easily grabbed at your wrists and slammed your head bloody into the bars. Your stinking mutt made him pause, however, and you pulled away before he could make a move. 

Besides, he was hungry.

Toji tore at the meat like a rabid animal. It fell apart in a deliciously tender manner. Hot soup dribbled down his palms, which he ravenously licked away. You didn’t seem to mind at all. In fact, you took a seat opposite his cell and watched him with clear fascination.

“How’d you get that scar?”

Toji chewed at a particularly large chunk of meat and swallowed it with little effort. “Not everyone grows up in a lavish castle eating pastries and meats and sucking squire cock.”

It took you a moment to respond, but when you did, your words were calm and flat. “I’ve brought you meat. If it is pastries and squire cock you require, you need only ask. Give you a taste of a lordly life.”

Now you really must have been japing. Mocking him, even. Toji didn’t find you all that funny. 

“Why are you here?” he gruffed around another mouthful after taking a long swig of wine. “Are friends hard to come by in the North? Or is it just you?”

That seemed to strike a nerve. You sucked at your teeth. 

“I saw you,” he pressed. “As your guards dragged me away. I saw you looking scared. Cowering by your wolf because I nearly got you. If that beast hadn’t been there, you would have been long dead. It would suit you.” Toji’s eyes gave you an intrusive onceover, despite all the layers you were wearing. “You’d make a lovely corpse.”

“Only a fool fights back fear,” you shot back, though it was quite obvious that your confidence had taken a blow. “Fear keeps us alive.”

Toji made a humming noise into the bowl that he picked up to slurp at the last remaining drops of soup. 

“More,” he demanded once he pulled his face away, tongue laving over his lips to catch what had smeared over his mouth. The portion you had given him was ridiculously small.

Perhaps that was a calculated choice. Toji only realized that when you spared him a cold little smile. 

“Hey!” he growled out when you pushed yourself back onto your feet. “I’m fucking starving here!”

Silent as a wraith, you strode out of the dungeons with Reika padding along beside you.

Much time passed. Each night (Toji assumed it was night, he could hardly tell since there were no windows anyway), you would come down with a bit of food and drink. You would sit and talk with him about the most mundane of things, the most asinine of topics, and the most boring of subjects. Toji yawned and yawned so you would take the hint, but you ignored him each time.

He was beginning to think you truly didn’t have any friends up there. Other than your stinky mutt, of course.

There was even one time where you had opened the grating. From what he heard, Starks were quite religious folk—slobbering all over their bloody trees and old gods. He’d told you he wanted to see the Godswood as he himself was devout (he, of course, was nowhere near devout and hadn't prayed a single day in his life), and you, with softened eyes, reluctantly agreed on the condition that he remained shackled and quiet. 

He killed a guard that night trying to escape. You struck him with a terribly strong blow to the back of his head, and your damned wolf sunk its teeth into his shin. The maester was none too happy to see him again. No milk of the poppy was administered, so he suffered through the pain. It was all worth it, though. He was outside of the dungeons for a grand total of two seconds, and the air had never tasted so clear and so sweet. 

You were angry at him for quite a while but still found it in you to visit nearly every day, which Toji found highly amusing. Then you grew soft on him again (which took many moons), and Toji oft wondered if you usually pardoned prisoners this quickly. 

“Why haven’t you killed me yet?” Toji asked on the seventh moon of him being your prisoner. Of course, he had asked this question multiple times before, but your answer seemed to always vary.

You may be of value. You do not deserve death. The gods smile at mercy. Reika likes you. 

Those were all reasons you’d given him before. Though Toji had a very hard time believing the last one.

You regarded him with knitted brows. “If I’m being honest… I’ve grown quite fond of you.”

Toji drew his head back in surprise. Then, an arrogant, flirtatious smile flitted over his scarred mouth. It was the same smile he used to use on whores in the Street of Silk so they would take him to their seducing chambers—he could never understand how the drawers and shelves of whorehouses seemed to always have an abundance of loose coppers and silvers. 

“But—” You began to continue but Toji quickly cut you off.

“I know what you’re going to say,” he said, lifting a hand up. You frowned. “You’ve fallen in love with me. And you’re thinking that if the circumstances were different, we’d be pawing at each other’s bodies like there was no tomorrow. And you worry that your people wouldn’t approve. You needn’t worry about such matters—I’m sure Northern folk would regard me as your equal if you let me out of the cell and force me into marriage. That would make me their liege lord, wouldn’t it?”

An indignant look settled over your features, your skin flushed as if you’d downed a heady drink.

“Are you mad? Of course I’m not in love with you, you imbecile,” you retorted, crossing your arms. “Besides—I’m not looking to marry anyone. And if I was, you’d be the very last on my list, thank you very much.”

Toji didn’t even have the gall to look embarrassed at his bold assumption.

“I had to try, didn’t I?” He gave you that lazy smirk once more. “Being Lord of Winterfell sounds like a cushy life. Cushier than this one, at least.”

“Well…” You toyed with a frayed thread on your robes. “I can offer you a life cushier than prison.”

Toji snorted. “I’m not going to be a glorified stableboy or a squire. I’d much rather sit here and have you bring me food than the other way around.”

“I considered sending you to the Night’s Watch,” you admitted with a ponderous look. “There are plenty of men like you there—I’m sure they would welcome another good fighter.” Toji didn’t have time to snark about how you’d complimented him before you were already speaking again. “But then I realized that you might still be of use to me.”

“I’m a good bed warmer,” offered Toji. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laid on a plush bed. Not since yours, at least. He thought about your bed often. Usually without you in it. The times he did imagine you there, your wolf always came in and ruined his entire lovely daydream.

You spared him an unamused look. “I want you to be my spy. Ears and eyes for me down South. Particularly in the West, where the lands crawl with Lannister cock-sucking houses. I need to know what they plan so I can be five steps ahead.”

A moment of silence passed by. Toji’s upper lip curled into a sneer.

“No,” he began to protest. “Why in the seven hells would I—”

“I’ll pay you with enough gold to sink you to the bottom of the ocean. And once you have tired of gold, I’ll fill you with as much venison stew as your heart desires. And once you get sick of that, I will find you a Northern castle and grant you the title of a lord for your services. You’ll live the rest of your days comfortably. Granted you do as I tell you, of course.”

That made Toji pause and consider your offer.

“Why me?” he finally asked. He drew nearer to the bars, nearer to you. 

“You’re a Southerner, aren’t you? You know the lands better than any of my loyal Northmen. You’d… fit in.”

Toji wanted to laugh. He wasn’t ever very good at fitting in.

“How do you know I wouldn’t just lie to you and ally myself with the Lannisters?”

“Because,” you huffed, nose wrinkling. “You think they’re all cunts. You’ve said it yourself plenty of times. And—I’m not foolish enough to have you as my sole plant. If you lie, I’ll know. And I’ll have Reika hunt you down… and she won’t be held back this time.”

She was holding back the previous times? Toji distantly thought with a scowl. 

“What do you say?”

“It’s a far journey down South. You’ll miss me.” Toji’s cheek pressed up against the uneven metal bars. They were so cold it felt as if they were burning right through his flesh. 

“I’ll find another prisoner to entertain,” you replied, eyes glimmering. Another jape. You didn’t deny his words, however.

A moment of considerable silence passed. Toji bowed his head ever so slightly. The first time he’d ever done so to you.

“I’m in, Wolf.” It didn’t pass his notice how your eyes lit up, how your back stood a little straighter, how your fingers curled excitedly into the fabric of your riding cloak. You didn’t even seem to mind the nickname he’d given you. “When do I start?”

[musiclover61]

Little Witch. Pt1

Fandom: Supernatural

Summary: You and your fiancée were about to have people over but you got a knock on your front door then attacked and kidnapped, but you got saved by these two guys

Paring: Sam winchester x witch!reader

Warnings: Cussing, mentions of weapons (guns and knifes), describing wounds (gashes, cuts and bruises), mentions of blood, yn is used, let me know if I missed something :)

A/N: so in this one there kinda isn't really Sam x reader but in the next one there is I pinky promise:)

Proofread!!

Part 2 is up!!

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

'Shit, shit, shit,' I thought as I ran through the woods trying to lead a demon to its death, thankfully I was a fast runner.

Just a few hours before, I'd say 10 hours before I had no idea that demons, ghost, angles, weird spider things, I had no idea that any of that was a thing until my soon to be husband was killed by the demon that's chasing me.

10 hours before:

"Hey" Luke said coming up behind me and hugging my waist "what is my pretty girl doing?" He asked kissing my cheek

"I'm cooking up an awesome dinner" I giggled leaning into him "I invited over one of your friends by the way, Darren was his name I think" I said his friends name and he smiled

"Oh, Y/N/N, how kind of you" Luke smiled kissing down my neck as I giggled putting down the knife I had been holding to turn and wrap my arms around his neck.

"I can't wait for us to get married" I smiled making his smile bigger

"I can't wait either" Luke says kissing me, a nice, passionate kiss and before anything else there was a knock on the door making him groan

"I'll get it" I smiled and gave him one last peck before walking to the door opening it.

When I opened the door I seen the mail man standing there "hi" I smiled "what can I do for you?" I asked

"It's more of your husband" the mailman said his eyes going pitch black before lungging at me pushing me to the ground

"Ah!" I yelled as I fell, my head hitting the ground hard. The guy fell on top of me, his eyes still black

"Y/N/N!" Luke yelled running to me but before he could the mailman lungged at him. Two more guys came in the house one went passed me and the other one picked me up

And then everything went black.

When I woke up I was tied to a chair. Blood covered my shirt and my neck. My vision was blurry when I looked around I see my fiancée strug on the ceiling, chains keeping him up, he was pale and had cuts all over his body "Luke!" I yelled trying to get out of the chair, he looked up at me his eyes were tired, but his teeth something was wrong with his teeth, they looked... sharp and there were... rows of them, three rows of sharp teeth, but before I could say anyting his eye darted behind me before a look of fear crossed his face I looked behind me to see a tall bald man walking over to Luke a large hunting knife in his hands, when he got close enough he swang his arm back before cutting Luke's head off making me let out a loud scream, tears following as the man looked at me

"Shut up or you'll be next" he spat before going out of my view

I looked at my fiancée's dead body his hands still being chained to the ceiling as his head had rolled a few inches away from him, his body going limp and more tears came pouring out of my eyes. The man must have heard me since he grabbed me by my hair and pushed my head back putting a knife to my neck

"I said shut up!" he spat but before he could say or do more there were sounds of a door getting kicked in.

although I couldn't see what was happening, I knew the blad guy was fight two people. Next thing I know my chair was turned around and a knife was to my neck. Two men were standing infront of me, one was tall, had brown hair and green eyes, he had more of a broad frame, he was wearing a light brown jacket that was puffy but on him didn't look it, he had a dark t-shirt under that and jeans on with boots, as the other guy was shorter then the man he is standing next to but still tall, like the other guy he had brown hair and green eyes, he had a real dark brown jacket and was also wearing a dark shirt under it, he had jeans and boots on as well, the shorter guy's hair was more spiked up while the other guys hair was more puffy and a little flat on the top and kinda in his face from I'm guessing the fight

"Put down your guns or I slice her neck open" the blad guy said as he held me tigher

They looked at blad guy before lower their guns dropping them on the ground and kicking them away from them "Ma'am what's your name" The taller one asked looking between me and the guy that had me

"Y/N" I stuttered out tears filling my eyes "please I don't want to die" I choked out a few tears spilling.

"Shut up." The bald guy spat holding the knife closer to my neck.

I let out a whimper as the two guys looked at the bald guy. "Let her go" The shorter one said.

His voice was deep. Kinda like batman but less sandpaper sounding.

"She has nothing to do with this" He added "she's done nothing wrong" he said and took a step closer.

The man put the knife closer to my neck, the feeling of it digging in my skin was unpleasant and the pain only grew.

"you know this guy that I'm possessing has some real interesting thoughts about this girl" He grabbed my hair and pulled my head back "to him she's just another play thing" he chucked.

The shorter one moved to quick for me to even think because all of a sudden I heard a gun shot and the man had the knife away from me dropped on the ground somewhere.

The gun shot didn't even seem to faze him because he picked up the knife and pulled his arm back getting ready to stab me. I turned my head away getting myself ready to be stabbed.

I heard three more gun shots and loud thum. When I opened my eyes I seen the shorter guy on one of his knees his gun pointed behind me. The taller one quickly made his way over to me and untied the ropes.

"Hey, your okay now" he said softly "my name is Sam and that's my brother dean" He said then moved to my next arm, undoing the rope. His voice like his brother's was also deep but not as deep at Dean's. "you said your name was Y/N right?" Sam asked looking between me and the rope. I nodded looking at him "okay good nice to meet you" Sam said.

When he finished he looked down at my leg "looks like you got a pretty big gash there" Sam said. He seemed unfazed by it but when I looked down my head began spinning and I felt faint. I looked up quickly trying not to puke.

The 'gash' on my leg was a huge cut that started at my hip and went to my kee and it was about a finger nail wide

"Okay so I'm going to pick you up on three, okay?" Sam said looking at me. I gave him a nod and he nodded back "okay, one, two, three" he counted and like he said on three he picked me up, princess style. It was like I was a feather to him. Kinda hot. Stop! Your fiancée just die what is wrong with you! I put my arms around his neck for better support.

When we walked outside, the cool air hit me and I moved closer to into Sam. The only thing I was wearing was what I had been when I was taken, which was jeans that were now cut open and a white shirt that with a dark red long sleeve shirt over it.

We walked over to an impala. Dean opened the back door for Sam as he carefully put me in the car and shut the door then Sam and Dean got in the car, Dean was driving and Sam was in the passenger. After a few minutes of driving I had falling asleep, leaning against the window.

☆☆☆

I don't know how long we were driving for but I do know that we were stopped at a gas station.

"Sam we need to take her to a hospital" Dean said. The door to the driver side was open and Dean was pumping the gas "we can't take her back to the hotel" it was dark out and the only light was coming from a nearby lamp post.

"And what are we going to tell the people at the hospital, huh?" Sam asked "'hey this girl was cut up by a demon, help her?'" Sam said sarcastically

"Sam what do you want us to do" Dean asked and looked back at me. I closed my eyes and pretend to be asleep "we can't keep her like a dog" Dean said then looked back at Sam

"We can take her back to the hotel and then we can call Cas" Sam suggested

'Cas?' I thought 'who the hell names theirs kid Cas?'

"We didn't kill that demon, and they obviously wanted to keep her alive for something" Sam said "Cas can get her healed and then we can.... use her as bait" Sam said looking at Dean as if he just made that up on the spot

'Hold on demons?!' I thought 'if I'm demon bait they can take me back and I'll just die'

Dean was quite for a second he looked like he was thinking and when the gas stop he took it out of the car, put it up then got back in the car and looked back at me again then to Sam and let out a sigh "fine we'll go back to the hotel, call Cas, have her healed, and tell her about the supernatural and if she doesn't run off calling us crazy then we can use her has bait" Dean said "happy?" Dean asked starting the car

"Thank you" Sam sighed and looked at the road as Dean began to drive

'WHAT THE FUCK DID I JUST HEAR!' I thought 'AND WHO THE FUCK IS CAS!'

☆☆☆

A/N: this is my first work on tumblr so I hope it's good and it's kinda been awhile since I've seen Supernatural so if I got anything wrong let me know🤞

[honey-minded-hivemind]

hi again I hope you can do a Jurassic world au yandere raptor hybrid parents wolverine and storm [ animated series ] x baby raptor hybrid reader and how they react when their baby gets kidnapped and they go with Owen and Claire to get Maisie and their baby back.

Okay! So, in the Jurassic World AU, it isn't a crossover, so Owen and Claire and Maisie aren't in it. It's just the X-Men characters and Reader in this setting. I should have specified, so I'll do it now. But I CAN do raptor hybrid parents! Let's try this-

• Something wasn't right.

• The air was still, no birds or insects singing a low hum. The trees seemed too tall, too dark. The shade was too cold, biting and nipping at their skin and scales. Yet the problem seemed to be something else...

• Neither one could remember much of their before this place, with its humans and tasers and fences, but they didn't need to. They had a life here, with each other, and their own hatchling to take care of. Or it had been that way, before someone had taken them. The older male knew their enemies had caught their little while they were away, he could smell their blood and the stench of mammals clinging to their nest. His mate, a female with bright eyes and white scales, had ruthlessly torn through their territory, calling out for their child. Yet neither one could find the humans, only a trail to follow...

• Hunting down the ones who did this atrocity felt easy. It didn't take much to track them into their homes, to follow them on their hikes, to hunt then and chase them til they dropped and cried and pleaded for mercy. Yet none was given. The last thing they'd ever see was of claws racing towards them, or of sharp teeth closing around their head. It all lead to this moment, to a lone facility in freezing snow, holding their hatchling and the last of the monsters who took them...

• Waiting in the cell made you feel icky. All cold and tired and bruised, like every drop of warmth was sucked out of you. The humans prattled on and on, talking about numbers and people who wanted them, who wanted a pet or monster or stuffed tropy... It made you cry, hearing all of this. You shied away from any who came near, tucking your tail in your hands and hiding in the shadows. It all changed when a loud wail echoed in the room, red lights flashing sharply through the darkness.

• It was then the humans began panicking. Running and racing around, screaming and crying, talking about specimen breaches and other raptors- That made you perk up. Could it be Mom and Dad? Did they come back for you? They didn't abandon you?

• It appeared not. You could hear their angry screeches, their claws clicking on metal floors, their feet pounding down the halls as they came closer to finding you. Only a few humans remained, a frazzled doctor and a couple of guards, and then-

• Your parents were there, mad and angry and screaming. You looked away as you heard the humans wail and beg, you covered your ears and shut your eyes. The scent of copper was thick, the acrid scent of death soon following. But then, the bars were torn apart, and in a flash, you were in the arms of your parents, each chirping up a frenzy as they looked over you.

• You chirped up happily, only getting anxious when you asked about the humans, but you were shushed, told not to look, and soon you all were leaving. Your mom kept humming, tickling your cheeks and belly, while your dad kissed your head and stroked your back. You couldn't help but nuzzle into their warm embrace, so safe from the carnage surrounding you...

[ikeromantic]

One more day!! Haha, thank you so much for doing these. Your writing is always so fun to read!

I always stop what I'm doing when I see a new post 😊

I would like to request something (maybe, hopefully?) Interesting with Cyran, battlefield, and gingerbread!

That is quite the compliment ^_^ I will be honest with you, this was one of my favorite asks nonnie! I saved it for last. I'm not sure it's quite gingerbread - maybe more eggnog? But I loved the prompt and I hope you'll enjoy the story. Approx. 1600 words of Cyran and the Belle on a battlefield. IkePri New Years Event story! TW for violence.

The air was thick with smoke and the scent of spilled blood. The distant clang of armor and the groans of the wounded sounded deceptively distant. Emma took a breath. She was exhausted and frightened. But there was more to be done. More she could do. Her chin lifted, lips firming. 

“Once more into the fray,” she whispered, and then stepped away from her hiding place in the lee of a fallen wall. She scurried from one hiding spot to another, getting closer to the sounds of battle. Emma came around a low, grassy hillock and with a step, she was back amidst the chaos.

Men in armor fought, clashing where opposing sides met. Emma couldn’t tell who fought for which army. The colors of their crests were smeared with mud and blood and ash. She tried to avoid them altogether. Darting past, hiding in the tall grass, and ducking behind the wreckage of what was once a bustling border town. 

Emma made her way through the battlefield, her progress slow. At each fallen soldier, she paused to check for signs of life. Kneeling in the muck, fingers to their throat or wrist, if their state was not clear. Her bag of supplies hung heavy across her back, full of bandages, waterskins, salves . . . 

She realized now what a naive idea it had been to come here. But staying behind, waiting in safety while people bled and died . . . There was no way she could sip tea and eat cakes while Cyran was out here, fighting. Her mind flitted to the red headed soldier. His easy smile, his kindness, the warmth of his touch. A sharp ache pierced her chest as she thought of him lying on the ground.

“No.” The word slipped through clenched teeth. That wasn’t going to happen. 

Emma paused as she spotted another soldier lying on his side in the mud. She didn’t see any knots of fighting men nearby, though they could appear at any moment. With a breath, she hurried to his side. 

The soldier’s eyes were closed, his face clenched in pain. Blood pooled beneath his hip, rust-hued and smelling of copper and salt. He was still breathing. 

With a silent prayer of thanks, she knelt. “Hey. I’m going to touch you, ok? I need to roll you over.”

He opened his eyes. “O-ok.” His words were strained, breathy. He tensed as Emma gently moved him onto his back. The soldier wore the colors of Obsidian on his armor. An enemy soldier. No wonder he was nervous. 

“I’m not going to hurt you,” she reassured him. “I don’t care where you’re from.”

The soldier nodded, relaxing a little as she examined him.

Emma could see the deep cut just above his pelvic bone. Just under the fauld, where the gap in metal was covered only by thick padding and leather. It was split wide open and soaked in blood. There wasn’t much she could do, but if she bandaged him, he might make it until real help could get to him. 

“Is it . . . is it bad?” He watched her face intently.

“Yes.” Emma’s voice didn’t shake as she told him the truth of his wounding. Not the way it had the first time today, or even the fifth. She’d lost count of the times she answered that question during this battle. “I’m going to clean and pack the wound. I need you to stay still and quiet, even if it hurts. That way -” she cleared her throat, fighting the tears that wanted to come, “that way you’ll make it to the medical tent where they can stitch you right up. You’ll be just fine. If - if you stay still. And quiet.”

When she looked up at him, she smiled. His narrow, pinched expression eased. “Are you an angel?”

“Afraid not. I’m a book seller, among other things.” Emma couldn’t meet his gaze for long. She got to work. Keeping her hands and mind busy, focusing on the litany of tasks. Clear the space. Clean the wound. Apply the salve. Pack the opening. Wrap and bind it. One step at a time. 

She was so focused that she didn’t note the approach of two men, one chasing the other. They rushed her tiny clearing, trampling the grass. The fleeing man tripped on the wounded soldier’s leg and came crashing to the ground. Emma noticed him then, and nearly lost her head as she jerked upright in surprise. 

The pursuer swung his sword wildly, lunging toward his fallen opponent. It was only luck that his blade parted the air and not Emma’s neck. A bit of her hair fluttered to the ground, following the sword’s passage. 

Despite their proximity, the battling soldiers barely seemed to notice her or the fallen man as they fought on. The one on the ground scrambled to his feet, barely getting a blade up to defend himself. 

Emma scooted out of the way. She had a dagger strapped to her leg, but that was a last-ditch weapon if she were attacked. There wasn’t much she could do with it against armed and armored knights. 

The fight didn’t take long. In mere heartbeats, one of the men was on the ground, his last breath bubbling between his lips while the other gave a shout of victory. Emma thought he would move on to another target, but instead, the remaining soldier looked down at the wounded man. And stabbed him.

His sudden act of irrational violence brought a shout to Emma’s lips. The sound burst out of her before she could stop it. A wordless sound of horror, a primal negation of what she was seeing. Her hand lifted, reaching. As if she might stop the blood that gushed now from the wounded man’s neck. 

Her shout brought the soldier’s attention to her. His face was hidden beneath his helm. Only his eyes were visible through the slit. Hard green eyes, like stone. He raised his sword. 

Emma closed her eyes. She knew what was coming. Tense, breathless, she waited. But instead of a sharp blade, there was only a sudden clang, followed by a heavy thud. Her eyes sprang open. 

“You never like to stay where I put you.” Cyran pushed his hair back from his face with a sigh, but he was smiling even so. “Are you alright?”

Seeing him like this, as if he’d stepped straight from her thoughts and into the battlefield, made her heart do strange things. Beating too fast and off-rhythm, a bruised ache thrumming through it and down into her limbs. She gave him a silent nod. 

He held out a hand to help her up and then pulled her against him in a tight hug. She could feel the uneasy thud of his heart, giving the lie to his calm demeanor. Cyran pressed a kiss to the top of her head. 

Emma let herself be held, taking strength from his warm embrace. She didn’t even mind the press of metal buckles or the hard finish of his armor against her cheek. He was alright. Alive and well. And he’d saved her life. “Thank you.” Her words were muffled against his chest. 

“Don’t thank me for that. Thank me when I get you back to someplace safe.” He let go and took a step back, his gaze roving over her and then the clearing. “Dare I ask what you were doing out here? I hope you weren’t looking for me.”

She had been, of course. But not just that. “I was . . . trying to help. Bandaging wounds and - and giving them water. I sent some that could walk toward the medical tents but -” Her eyes dropped to the body of the soldier she’d been trying to help. His death felt so senseless. All of this death did. 

Cyran’s gloved thumb wiped away a tear before it could fall. 

“Please don’t make me go back. I can’t just . . . especially now and -” Emma felt the words tangling in her throat. All of the suffering, the lost lives, the awfulness of it. She couldn’t walk away. 

“You know, Clavis might actually kill me for this but, I understand.” He took a breath. “I don’t suppose you want some help? I’m not bad with a medical kit and I’ve got this big sword here. Pretty good with it, if I do say so myself.” 

Emma laughed despite everything. Or perhaps, because of it. His cocky smile, and that mischievous gleam to his eye. As if they were about to steal some pastries from Yves’ garden party instead of trying to save lives in the middle of a bloody border war. He was ridiculous, but so was she. “I’d say so too, so it must be true.”

Cyran grinned, his cheeks heating. He cleared his throat. “Alright, well let’s get to work then.” 

“Thank you.” She reached for his cheek, cupping it gently. He was so strong for her, but fragile too. Emma felt a rush of love, her whole chest tight and warm and full to overflowing. 

He leaned close. “Don’t thank me yet, remember?” His kiss surprised her, even as she responded. His warm lips were firm and silky soft, and his mouth tasted of whiskey and blood and smoke. What passed between them was a promise, an oath to survive this day. Their lips sealed a vow to hold each other when this was all over, no matter what came. His touch was hot with the undercurrent of passion held in abeyance, gentle with the sweetness of pure love, trembling with the bitter tang of sorrow, and the salt of tears not yet shed. 

When he pulled back, his warmth stayed with her. “I remember.” Emma smiled at him. 

“Good.” He grinned back. “Now, let’s get moving.”

[justafairytailofinnocence]

may i request a headcanon, imagine, or oneshot (whichever is easiest and best for you!) of will turner x male (or GN if it works better for you!) who’s like..a vampire. has super sharp + long canine teeth (and whatever the ‘bottom canine’ teeth are called), slightly pointy ears, heightened senses, sensitivity to sun, obviously the, y’know, drinks blood bit-

if you want more information, or just don’t want to do it at all, no worries! also, feel free to alter anything to your wishes! have a great day! :)

Will turner x m/gn vampire reader 🧛🌊

A/n: so, in this headcanon despite it being an x reader of male or gn, your nickname is Alucard.

The night was your life. The blood was your need, and death was an old friend. You were a creature of the night; a nosferatu, a demon, a monster who preyed on the weak—draining their blood when you were hungry.

In 1696, you were a living being with a beating heart—you were able to breathe life, and you were able to feel satisfied in hunger, thirst, and desire. You had outlived your predecessors. You were a product made not of god's creation.

You went by many names, but the most known being 'diavolul nopţii' or 'el diablo de la noche'. The devil of the night 🌙.

You had no recollections of your origin. It was many centuries ago. You recalled being born in 1462, the time of the great war between vlad the imapler, son of the dracul, and the Ottoman empire.

You were but a small child, too young to remember your parents. They had perhaps abandoned you during the time of the war to save their own skin or planned to use you as a sacrifice to save themselves from the deranged vlad or ottomans themselves.

You remembered seeing the whisps of flames surrounding the outside of your home. Scared and unkowning of what to do, you ran beneath the small, chiselled wooden dining table. You knew death was imitable. The flames growing by the second, and the black smoke clouding the rooms in a whole. Sooner or later, you'll be engulfed, seeing hell before you.

As your vision became blurry and your breath running thin. A shape you barely made out gripped you by the rags you wore, carrying your small body out from the burning building. Mayhaps it was the grace of God sparing you, a child, from a horrific death.

A tall man with a stout build covered in heavy silver armour dropped you from his shoulder. You were brought before a man with wide, green eyes, a long straight nose with a thin-reddish face.

It was him. You thought. It was—Prince Vlad tepes.

You spoke no words, you didn't know how to. All you could do was bow your head as Vlad sneered at you, assuming you were a peasant.

"Kill the boy/child—" His voice was raspy with a snide. Until the army man who saved you had holted the others. "Your grace, a symbol, look! On the boy's/child's arm."

Vlad, curious, narrowed his eyes, gripping the boy's arm with brute force and lifting his rag's sleeve. "A Diavol, my lord, a chosen sacrafice." The army man spoke out.

Vlad's eyes remained narrow, depicting a decision one could assume to kill or let live.

He waved a signal to his men, and immediately, you were bounded by rope, tossed on the back of the army man's white stallion, riding back toward the bran castle in the Transylvanian Alps, the southern Cartharpian mountains.

Through your childhood, you had been adopted as an apprentice to study in the black arts of magic and alchemy. Some say you were the adopted son of vlad, yet he was far from what you expected. You were dubbed Alucard. The son of the dracul'.

Many described you as clean in appearance, appearing with innocent eyes yet written with damage from the world's doing.

You read many books and history and learnt many skills that none had been able to achieve. You had a strong connection with the strigoi and moroi. Both blood sucking creatures that rose from the dead.

As you entered your teenage years, you had a fascination for blood, a fondness rather. Studying it, observing it from animals or others. You wanted to learn the science behind it, straying from the myths and lies the churches had been trying to explain.

Many feared you would turn into Vlad himself, a monster depraved of humanity.

Vlad hadn't always been the doting father figure, yet he was proud to say you were the closet thing to a son he ever had.

One day, in the village, you were arriving back from gathering ingredients to conjure your experiment. You met a young man, same as your age. He was different, though, in contrast to your appearance. He was more fuller in life. He had dark brown hair that reached his shoulders with brown eyes. He wore a light brown garb, and he carried a book with a familiar symbol.

"Speak your name, or you shall fall from the pits of grace," you sneered, the same way your father had once when he saw you.

"Forgive me, my name is avram," he pleaded.

The boy was far weaker and submissive compared to your stature.

You didn't think much of him yet, you later learnt he was the son of a Catholic man. He was kinder, not threatening you, which was foreign in your eyes.

"Your eyes, it's as if life has crumbled before you," avram nervously commented.

"What do you know of my life, you know nothing," you said with a hiss.

"I may not know you deeply, but I know lightness can be shed even in the darkest of man," he smiled softly.

You sneered, "Your foolish tongue shall be carved onto my silver platter."

Before you said anything more, he knelt down and offered you a plant—malva. He then placed it in your hand, curling your fingers. "I can teach you life. Healing is one of many things gifted from god's love. And everything around deserves life—even you."

You found yourself staring into his deep brown eyes. There was something about this boy you found different. Your cheeks turned to a slight tinge of red. You've never felt this way before. All you've known is darkness and evil, yet when he introduced you to light, you felt an odd sensation of warmth.

In the coming days, you tried to catch up with the avram, spending every hour speaking of amenities of healing and treatment. During the nights, you dreamt of him, desiring to lie in the sun by his son as he comforted you from the darkness.

You hadn't seen vlad in days, wondering if he was dead, but for now, it didn't matter. You had, for once in your life, felt a happiness you've yearned for.

Avram was the personafication of light.

On one summer eve, you both lay in the Cartharpian mountains forest, feeling the warmth on your faces. Your eyes lingered over to his hand, and with curiosity, you grabbed it. "I never told you my name. It's Alucard."

He smiled, a lightness emitting from within his words. "I will light the way through your darkness, Alucard, I'll guide the light through hell and heaven to save you".

Filled with emotions, both your hands cupped Avram's cheek, pulling him toward you into a kiss.

His lips were soft and wet, yours rough with a slight smoothness. You found love, and he was the love of your life.

Yet, that would soon change when you arrived back at the castle's gate. You saw blood trailed from the outer path. Curious, you followed it back inside until it led you to the castle's main entrance. Bodies—the bodies of the guards and armies men lay dead among the stone floors of the castle.

Creeping inside the castle, trailing along the blood along the stone floors. You stop, the blood trailed from the floor to the walls and—to the roof. You clenched your mouth in confusion and rage. Someone had trespassed into your home and slaughtered your father's allies. Soon, your thoughts turned to fear, fearing your father would be dead.

You dashed through the main room of the castle until you reached his chambers. From there, you opened the wooden door, entering slowly, seeing more blood trails running up the wall.

Something scurried behind you. You turned, yet a dark shadow had emerged. "My dear boy/child, oh how you've grown," two elongated fingers with sharp nails like claws grasped both your shoulders.

"Tată, what happened to you?" you said, backing slowly against the wall. The fear you felt was flashing back to when you were in your house as a child surrounded by fire.

"I've read your little book of necromancy, I've taken it upon myself to become a creature not of god's grace," he said with a hiss. You could feel a hint of two long canines poking your skin.

"A vampyre," his grip hardened as you winced.

Your eyes widened as you felt two long needle like canines pierce your neck with ease. Your body paralysed, and you could feel the burning sensation overtake your throat.

"I grant you the powers of a nosferatu." Your vision turned to black as the last thing you felt was the burning sensation of fire.

————

1728, the day of the commodore's promotion. Will was making a small sword decorated with tinges of gold in the hilt.

He was excited he completed such fine mastery, but more so, it's a chance to see Elizabeth.

He placed a black leather scabbard over the fine smallsword. The hilt stuck out and attached at the very end of the end of the pammel was a silver rope like tassel.

He began to head toward the manor to show Govener Swann the Commodore's sword.

Trailing along the docks of Port Royal, he noticed a mysterious figure. The figure wasn't like anyone he had met before. However, he didn't want to meddle and dally. He disregarded the stranger and kept trailing on toward the path of the manor.

The stranger locked eyes onto his; a young man/person in their early adulthood, around the same age. You stared deeply into Will's eyes. Your frontal canines were longer than any human he knew, and his ears were angular.

Your eyes were a deep crimson that had some alluring affect to them.

Will was baffled by the appearance yet pulled in by the appeal.

You wore a dark overcoat concealing your attire and a dark laced umbrella to protect yourself from the sun.

Your ears perked up, hearing his blood flow and light breaths. You knew he was curious about you.

Your thin snake like tongue licked your lips when your eyes laid upon his neck.

Will was strangely allured to you. Your elongated fingers stretched around Will's head. "Avram, my love, I've returned at last," he heard in a muttered husk.

Will perked up his neck as you leant forward, you shifted your height at will, and your canines grew more as your irises turned from red to black.

Yet, as you leaned down, the sunlight touched your wrist, causing you to feel slightly burning. You hissed back into the shadow of the building.

Will confused stumbled back. "What are you—".

You replied with a guttural lurking growl, "not of your kind."

Will, out of instinct, drew out the commodore's sword. "I warn you sir, I do not wish to fight you, I'm saving the day for when I use a sword, it'll be for a pirate—so I can kill it."

As he lunged forward, your body turned to a black mist, tempting him forward. He dropped the smallsword as you wrapped your hands around his. "Do. Not. Fear. Me" you say sternly.

"—Avram—come to me—come to the land of the living and the damned" your lips softly press against Will's.

Will was strangely paralysed, as if it was hypnosis, holting him from any movement.

He wondered, who Avram was? Why you called him so?

He gently called out, whispering "My n-name is Will Turner."

As he closed his eyes, you vanished, dropping his weight. He steadied himself looking around.

You were no where in sight.

He picked up the commodore's sword coming to his senses, trailing on—not wanting to find out what will come next.

Over the the next few days, you stalked him, keeping up with his sleeping patterns. Leaving gifts for him and gently enamouring him in your grasp.

Though, when you learnt of Elizabeth Swann, your mouth growled with a disdainful hiss. You fell in love with Will, you needed him, he was the only connection to Avram.

Only you hatched a plan to turn Will on a dead night. To make him your lover and live in the castle of wallachia—only problem—Dracula.

[teecupangel]

Thinking about nature spirit fifteen meter tall Desmond who lives in caves and travels by night. He can't speak but communicates by trills, whistles, chitters and growls he has deerlike ears and little nubby horns that have moss growing on them. His eyes are similar to a cat's, his teeth are pointed, nails are sharp, hard to file and he can smell a drop of blood from half a mile away. He doesn't need to eat a lot because he photosynthesises and chews dirt. He can make forests grow out of nothing but would rather not impact natural ecosystems.

He does NOT eat men OR kidnap their women... But sometimes he does rescue a few from unwanted marriages. Now because of that the tiny farmers like to fire arrows at him and scream when he's spotted in the area. Rude but more annoying than anything. Now he sleeps with boulders in front of his cave... The boulders don't completely cover his 'doorway' but farmers are apparently very bad climbers.

His ancestors on the other hand...

Now I'm thinking about all the misunderstandings that could come from this little brain baby... Maybe I should write this?

I'm a bad writer tho...

Hmmmm~

I just can't decide if he would be naked or wear 'clothes' similar to poison Ivy's.

I just love this setup too much of simply walking would make the ground bloom and wither.

It’s one of the scenes that are etched into my brain since I was a kid and I want Desmond as a nature spirit have the same thing and not have any say on it XD

The clothes though… I guess it depends on how you want him to be able to use photosynthesis. Being naked and his skin being the ‘main tool’ for photosynthesis would work or his ‘clothes’ are actually a part of him that are the ones doing the photosynthesis. Also… having clothes would give you an excuse for Desmond to change clothes depending on the season. Like, something green with fresh leaves for summer, a myriads of blooming flowers in spring, orange and yellows for autumn and the most resilient plants that still strive in winter.

Keeping him naked also means that making him wear clothes would hinder the photosynthesis which might give you a chance for a little bit of angst.

I kinda like the idea that his horns are slowly growing and the final form of the horns is also like his clothes, shifting depending on the season. Flowers would decorate them during spring, fresh leaves would sprout from them during summer, orange and yelloe leaves would fall from them during autumn and they would be completely bare a shock of pure white during winter.

(aka: like the horns of Sawsbucks but more complicated)

I personally believe that people should write if they want. What is bad in your eyes might be treasure to a reader out there looking for something specific that your story happens to have. But that final say is yours, nonny, if you want. I think this kind of story would be interesting to read, personally. Start the story slow with Desmond learning about his new body and getting used to it, sprinkle in the incidents that made humans wary of him, then the midpoint would be the chapter when he and the ancestor of your choice finally meet.

If a full fic is too much for you, you can write little snippets of the scenes you want to write instead. Those are always fun to read and there’s less pressure in making it a coherent story with a beginning, middle and end. :)

[hobeemin]

the visit

🦇 genre: angst, smut, supernatural, vampire au

🦇 pairing(s): vampire!kim hongjoong x (f)poc!reader x vampire!park seonghwa

🦇 rating: 18+

🦇 warning(s): biting, blood, restraints, blindfolds, dirty talk, kissing, lots of sensory deprivation

🦇 word count: 1k

🦇 credits: forgive me for any mistakes, this is getting posted unedited... i know i know, i never do that, but i wanted to write something for Halloween...but life lol

thank you to @beomcoups for looking this over 💜💜 thank you so much!

banner resources found here: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

🦇 a/n:

for @kpopsblackcreatorsociety Halloween Event "Blood and Bane"

⤞ Category: vampires

⤞ Prompt(s): sensory play | blindfold

Lips traveled down her frame as goosebumps trailed behind. She let out a hiss as pointed teeth dragged across her bare chest. Squirming under the restraints wouldn’t stop them from their work; instead, it made them want to do more, push her to the edge.

If anyone had told her she’d be seduced by not one but two vampires on that night, she would have laughed in their faces. Because c’mon…vampires weren’t real. 

Oh, they indeed were. Meeting Hongjoong and Seonghwa was purely by chance. Y/N took a chance going to a BDSM event for the spooky season. It was simple: she signed up in interest and got an invitation immediately. As it was Halloween-themed, she needed a costume ASAP. It was a tie was between Selene from Underworld or Michelle Pfeiffer’s Catwoman.

Catwoman won.

Walking into the party, she didn’t expect to join in on the first night. For her, it was an observation. Curiosity brought her there, but what she didn’t realize was that she grabbed the attention of the two men instantly. 

They could smell the purity on her. It was like a veil that embraced her. How fun would it be to dye it red?

Seonghwa appeared before her first. The usual antics, small talk, and whatnot. She was enamored, to say the least. Even under the dimmed lighting, she could tell he was breathtaking, even if he was covered head to toe in black. All she could see was his eyes, but that alone drew her in. 

“Love your costume,” he purred.

“T-Thank you,” she stammered out.

“Don’t think I’ve seen you at one of these. You new?”

“Y-Yes. My first time.”

Seonghwa chuckled, leaning against the wall. “Welcome. I’m Seonghwa.”

“My name is Y/N.”

“Lovely name.”

“Seonghwa hogs the pretty ones,” a voice cooed behind her.

Y/N turned to see another man dressed identically to Seonghwa. He wasn’t as tall as him, but the power that radiated from him made her knees buckle. He returned her stare with equal amusement.

“I’m Hongjoong.”

“P-Pleased to meet you, Hongjoong.”

“Happy to have you as our guest tonight.”

Her eyes widened. “This is your party?!”

“Yes, it is. How do you like it so far?”

“I like it a lot,” she gushed out, “I mean, it’s something different I’ve never done.”

“Were you hoping to find something here, Y/N?” Hongjoong inquired.

She gulped once, then twice. They were so close. Why, under the lights and heat of the club, did she feel a chill go through her body? 

Seonghwa lifted her gloved hand into his, removing the mask over his mouth. His lips pressed onto her knuckles, making her knees buckle. 

“Well, little Kitty, are you ready to go down the rabbit hole?”

And so here she was after giving her consent. Body bare on display for only their eyes. Wrists restrained above her head with a silk tie wrapped around her eyes. Her other senses heightened as they worked their magic on her. She was like putty in their hands.

Seonghwa admired their handy work as he nodded at Hongjoong. 

“You’re a piece of art, Y/N,” Hongjoong whispered. “Don’t know how lucky you are to catch the attention of both of us.”

Seonghwa nodded in agreement. “This never happens, Kitten. We just want a little taste.”

Y/N rubbed her thighs together. Something about their words only caused her lust to grow. “Yes, please do,” she begged. “Use me how you want.”

A smile formed on Hongjoong’s face as two sharp fangs appeared. “With pleasure.”

He dropped to his knees, spreading her legs wide for him to see. His breath played on her skin as his lips and tongue traveled up to her inner thigh.

“So soft,” he murmured, “So sweet. And all ours.”

Y/N felt a prick as she winced, but soon the euphoria washed over her. A strangled moan spilled from her lips as Hongjoong lapped at the blood trickling down her legs, reveling in the taste. He made sure not to drain her. She was too good to get rid of so quickly. He bit down on his bottom lip, letting a few drops fall on the marks. They healed closed as he left a kiss on the place.

Seonghwa tapped his shoulder with a grin. 

“My turn.”

He closed, dragging his thumb across her lips. Y/N keened into the touch. “You’re so turned on, you don’t know what to do, hmm.”

“S-Seonghwa?”

“Hmm, needy for me, too. Oh look, Hongjoong, our little Kitten is addicted already.”

“Want me to kiss you love? Take your breath away?”

Her head bobbed as his lips grazed against her. His hands wrapped around her neck, pulling her close and deepening the kiss. If she weren’t being tied up, she would have dropped to the floor. He pulled away as she let out a whimper, moving to her neck to nip the skin gently. 

“Hongjoong says you’re delicious Kitten. May I have a taste as well?”

“P-Please.”

It happened so fast. His fangs pierced her shoulder, drawing out more nectar for him to feast on. Meanwhile, Hongjoong caressed her skin, whispering sweet promises in her ear.

Her body felt so alive. It was nothing like she ever felt before. She reacted so strongly to the men she came on just those actions alone, her hips bucking at nothing. Seonghwa licked the remnants, closing the wound. He nuzzled against her, kissing her earlobe.

“You are a treat, little Kitten.”

Hoongjoong hummed in agreement. “Don’t want to share you with anyone else.”

Seonghwa removed her restraints and blindfold, letting her rest on the bed as they brought her water to drink. She hadn’t realized how thirsty she was until the liquid flowed down her throat; her eyes adjusted to the lights in the room as the two men sat on the bed on each side of her.

“How do you feel?”

She placed the glass down and rested her head against the pillows. “Exhausted but invigorated at the same time.”

Hongjoong clicked his teeth. “It’s a long night, Kitten, and we’re hardly done with you.”

“What?”

Seonghwa chuckled darkly as his fangs slid into view. “Oh, little Kitten, you’re in for a treat.”

[shimmerbeasts]

RP: Found Culprit

"What?! Are you telling me you, brat, do not even have the galls to finish me after all of this?!"

Despite the man's attempt to yell as loudly as possible, his voice was hoarse and shaky. His body had exhausted itself screaming in agony over the last couple of hours. He was marked by signs of torture. Bruises, the size of balled fists and knuckle imprints bloomed across his torso, belly and back. One of his eyes had swollen shut, blood dropped from a busted, split lip and his hair had a sweaty dampness to it.

The man was kneeling on the floor with thick ropes binding his hands behind his back. The cap of one of his knees had jumped out to the side, making the entire knee swell and turn dark purple-blue. It stood in stark contrast to the man's chalk-whiteness.

Jinx had disappeared outside of the front door of the almost empty warehouse. As soon as she had left, Sevika turned around with a far greater speed than expected. The brown woman crossed the space between her and the man, whose nose was still crusted up with the snot of his not-yet-healed disease. Without any hesitation, Sevika shoved two of her metal talons into his nostrils and pushed his head up. The sharp metal cut and irritated the slimy tissue and the man let out a sudden wail.

"She's not a brat", Sevika spat out, "She's the boss's daughter! You watch your mouth around her."

She scowled as she inspected the sniffling man below her before she eased her claws out of his nose. The man sneezed, his body bending forward as if he wanted to protect his vital organs and his face from the sharp metal arm hovering far too close for personal comfort.

However, he wasn't even granted that comfort for as he curled in on himself, the Chompers attached to his belly sunk their iron teeth deeper into his exposed flesh. Tears welled up in his eyes before he uncurled himself. The grenades continued to jiggle in him but remained blissfully untriggered. His dried blood had mixed with the smell of the urine, he must have let go off in the early hours of torture.

Sevika scoffed in disappointment. The men working for other Chem-Barons became more lacklustre as time dragged on. Silco was right. The whole rabble had turned into parasites, dulling their claws and fangs in the process. Lowlife vermin, which could not even stick to something as simple as a quarantine during the Sickly Months for their safety. And look where it had gotten them!

"A word of advice:", Sevika spoke and her lips pulled into an unfriendly smile, dark eyes blackening with bile, "Once Silco finds out who's behind his current state, you are going to wish that Jinx in her impulsivity had just killed you."

The door to Silco's office was open with such gusto that it banged loudly against the opposite wall. Only one person would ever have the courage and nerve to barge into the Eye of Zaun's office unannounced and unhindered like that, and that very same person was now standing in the doorway, her chest heaving for she had sprinted from the docks all the way back to The Last Drop.

Where Sevika was tall and a muscular, dark behemoth, Jinx was small, lean and as pale as a ghost. The only stark detail about her appearance was her long cobalt-blue braids, which swayed behind her trembling legs like the nervous tail of a cat. She was dressed in punkish attire from a black tank top to purple striped pants to purple sleeves, ending in a pair of dark, finger-less, leather gloves with golden brass on the knuckles.

Right now, Jinx looked even more dirty than she was anyhow from her experiments and misfiring explosions, covering her in soot and smudges of ash. Her utility belt missed two Chompers and Zapper's barrel tip was darkened from dried up blood. Some blobs still trickled down the edge. Jinx's huge, sapphire-blue eyes were darting around, looking for Silco with an expression of concern, alarm and excitement.

Back when Silco had gotten infected with Noxian Flu from an envoy from another, back then unidentified territory, Jinx had been in a lot of alarm. Most diseases during the Sickly Months could bear quite the fatal results. However, Singed had assured her that with enough Shimmer, some additional medicine as well as lots of rest, her father would recover swiftly, provided he stayed quarantined.

It had only been a couple of days ago that the eerie doctor deemed Silco healthy enough to come back to The Last Drop to do some mild work. Yet even so, Sevika had pulled double duty to ensure none of Silco's plans were delayed. The gang had also done its hardest to ensure that the common people had no idea that the Eye of Zaun had gotten sick to the point he had been bedridden for weeks.

Even so, it was still hard for Jinx to see her father in the state, he was in now. Silco could work mostly normally, however, he still relied on a highly decorative cane to get from one place to the next. Still, the Doctor had said that her Papa had survived the worst of the disease and was well on his way to recovery.

Jinx tried to steady her excitement. Letting the door fall shut behind herself, she rushed over to the desk and with hands slamming upon the wood, she leaned forwards, balancing on the tip of one foot, the other leg kicking up, as Jinx announced with a bright smile:

"WE FOUND THE CULPRIT, PAPA! He works for Finn!"

Starter for @zaunseye.

[spicywhumper]

@femslash-february bingo 2024 (dark edition): enemies to lovers 

series: untitles // rating: mature

trigger/content warnigs: blood, temporary captiviy, mental health issues, mentioned blood & violence, arranged marriage, implied child abuse. whatever the fuck you call "forcing your daughter to pose as your son so you don't lose the throne".

01 –  Destiny

There’s fate, there’s destiny, and there are people meant to hate each other; people who meet across the battlefield but can’t bring themselves to draw the other’s blood.

02 – Royal

In a world built by men, first-born daughters don’t have the same rights of the firstborn son; sometimes she forgets her name’s the one carved in a tombstone, and that the reason she suffocates all the time is because if she’s not Krystian, than she’s nobody – and being nobody us dangerous when you do have a womb.

03 – Forest

The witch was collecting herbs in a cold winter morning when she found the bundle, impossibly, impossibly small, and a baby that somehow survived the night  that kills even the strongest men.

04 – Protection

It’s annoying, how he father will forget she’s a princess for everything but his insistence that she needs protection, a knight to be around her all the time; her, Prince Krystian, the best soldier that came out of the Royal training in years.

05 – Silver

Prince Krystian shouldn’t be here, it’s what her commander says, he’s the Crown Prince and he’s the second most important person of his kingdom. And he’s her prey as soon as the commander orders.

06 – Dark

Krystian is mildly surprised that the barbaric enemies of her kingdom allow women in their ranks, but judging by her tall and broad the one attacking her is, it’s probably because she can easily go toe-to-toe with the order tall and larger savage; she’s, luckily, the average size of her people’s male soldier, still easily defeated by the behemoth.

07 – Eyes

Krystian pretends she’s not mesmerized by silver eyes, moonlight eyes, definitely not human eyes.

08 – Compression

Her routine is to spend her day with her chest bind with tightly wrapping, hide in her quarters or private tent and take it off so she can breath; in the forth day of captivity, she’s lightheaded all the time and probably with some damaged ribs.

09 – Purple

Savina’s more worried by the purple and black on the Prince’s soldiers  chest than with how that’s definitely not your regular male chest.

10 – Silence

“Will you say anything,” she asks, exhausted, her chest and back hurting even if now she’s free from the bindings for the night. The savage in front of her, the one who gave her a shirt of hers that is large enough to hid most of the bulge just gives her  water and a bow of broth.

11 – Secret

She frowns at the way the savage lies without even looking like she’s lying, telling her commander that the only reason she gave the prince one of her shirts is because he’s injured (Krystian pretend she doesn’t want to hug her as a thank you).

12 – Sharp

It’s a full moon, she notices how the savage is restless, how fast she eats and how she looks jumpy, weird; the commander enters their tent, she bares her teeth at him, sharp fangs – mo than one set of canines, eyes shining brighter than ever; all he does is roll his eyes and tell her “please do not eat the prince”.

13 – Blood

“Why,” she asks one night, “because my father needed an heir”; because they’d make him sell me as soon as I bled, because it’s being his son or being a breeding stock.

14 – Water

The savage, Krystian won’t go a low as call her “Savina” or whatever. Guard the body of water as Krystian takes her bath; because I won’t let any of you see royal goods, she tells the men and women of her brigade, half of the men grunt, the men made disgusted noises.

15 – Cold

Savina watches the prince – the princess? – shiver, teeth clattering, and covers her with her own warmed blanket;.

16 – Touch

Krystian doesn’t know how it escaped from borrowing a blanket to standing close to curling up on Savina’s arms, but she’s not complaining when she has a warm touch to stop her from freezing to death.

17 – Joke

The savages joke about how Savina must be riding the princes dick for him to get this attached to her, Krystian is disgusted by the blatant show of “a woman needs to be fucking a guy  to be his friend”; Savina rolls her eyes and tasks him if that’s how he got into the position of member of this brigade

18 – Armor

Krystian’s shoulders are broad, well-sculpted, and she has been wearing a rather heavy armor since she was eleven – since her body started to reshape itself in a form too feminine for a prince; she’s so used to layers of thick leather and metal that it’s weird to feel safe without them.

19 – Predator

Savina’s a predator by nature, Krystian has been sure of that since she saw her coming towards he in the battlefield; she’s not ready to watch a wolf take place of her and bring a large buck to fed the brigade.

20 – Share

Krystian shares how the pressure of being the heir makes her feel small (how she’s desperate because how the fuck she’ll get her own heirs?); Savina shares sweet nothing, comforting words and keeps her own burden a secret – Krystian doesn’t like the feeling that it’s because it’ll hurt her.

21 – Sweet

Turns out that the enemy that was supposed to kill the Crown Prince brings her little candies, the woman turns into a giant wolf and is still the sweetest person she has ever met.

22 – Venom

In hindsight, Krystian finds it almost ironic that turns out Savina is the one holding her when the venom wrecks havoc on her body and changes her so deeply that she feels like a dead woman walking.

23 – Pink

Savina’s lips are pink, and soft, and warm, and everything Krystian shouldn’t be addicted to.

24 – Moon

Under the moon, all Krystian can think of is how she managed to get capture and fall in love with one of them; the answer, she think, is that it’s because they’re just in opposite sides, the devil is decided by who wins.

25 – Hold

Savina doesn’t think she can get used to the way Krystian curls up and relaxes on her hold, the so feared prince is just someone that hasn’t been held since she was a baby.

26 – Sword

The tip’s painted red, coming out of her chest, the wielder is dead before Savina’s knees touch the ground.

27 – Lonely

There’s something lonely about being a Prince, there’s something lonely about being a wolf without a pack – finding each other seems to fix it; (then there’s something lonely about not being allowed to die).

28 – Marriage

The issue with this marriage, Krystian thinks, isn’t that her wife is a bad person, not even that she still doesn’t know how to tell her “you see,  Myrian… I’m not a male and I do not have the needed parts to get you pregnant”; is that apparently Krystian’s not the only one easily charmed by Savina.

29 – Flesh

Warm and tender, under her fingers and under her mouth, Savina decides to not think about how delicate it is; she pretends she doesn’t know how sweet human flesh tastes (but she thinks Krystian knows what she has done before, and somehow still trusts her with her very human, very breakable body.)

30 – Mark

Krystian offers to watch over Savina during baths, as a thank you, the soldiers frown but don’t mind it when Savina says “I trust the prince”, she takes a sneak peak; Savina’s all muscles and smooth skin, and marks down her back that Krystian doesn’t want to think about what it means.

31 – Noise

The forest sounds are soothing, calm, Krystian misses them when she comes back to the castle – she learns in a few days that the noises of her home are too much for Savina, the other guards side-eye them when she lets the woman sleep on her quarters; she doesn’t think they need ot deal with a distressed werewolf.

32 – Glint

Many things glint: her eyes, her sharp canines, her chin when she lifts her head from her apparent favorite spot between Krystian’s thighs.

33 – Tears

When her father dies, she wonders why half of her tears feel fake; when Savina and Myrian hold her at night, she wonders why the tears felt more like relief than grief.

34 – Bird

“A little bird told me you’ve been eying my bodyguard,” Myrian just stares at her and smirks; a little bird also told her that better a bodyguard that can’t give the Royal Family bastard heirs than any other member of the Kingsmen.

35 – Father

Krystian’s supposed to Father a dozen children, the court says, since ‘he’s’ the only heir of the royal family, she wants to ask them if they can make her fingers suddenly able to impregnate women (Savina laughs at her face, pulls her closer and pats her head like she’s trying to mollify a dog – it works).

36 – Smile

They have different smiles: Savina’s a predators barely in disguise and Myrian a wolf in sheep’s skin; Krystian loves both equally, and also fears them because she’s not stupid.

37 – Devil

The man cries “devil!” when Savina’s teeth sink into his throat, she doesn’t care, not when he was trying to break into Myrian’s room, expecting Savina to have followed Krystian in a trip; Myrian laughs maniacally until she’s sobbing when it hits her.

38 – Night

Krystian lies that she has “tried to secure an heir” after every night of “genuine attempts at keeping my bloodline alive”; it’s pretty funny that they don’t find the silence suspicious.

39 – Seasons

Days pass, weeks and years, seasons change and Krystian keeps doing her best to visit both of the graves; she finds them again, again and again, different faces and different names; but she always comes back to where there’s nothing but bones turned to dust and smooth gravestones.

40 – Grab

The baby boy grabs her finger, he doesn’t seem scared that a stranger with blood-red eyes visits him at night; she wonders if that’s the good ending, that this version of Myrian is happier than the ones that came before.

41 – Summon

“I can’t fix your curse,” the demon’s blacker than black, “I can’t save you from your love.”

42 – Miss

When Krystian’s away from home, before she does befriend Savina, she misses something she never had; in hindsight, she thinks maybe her soul had been tethered to Savina’s since they were forged deep in the pit of the underworld.

43 – Spite

For the first few years, she survived out of spite – for her father, for the usurper, for the bloodsucker that bit her, and for how something greater than her cursed her like that.

44 – Spirit

“What do you see? When you look in the mirror,” the spirit, the hallucination asks, the mockery of a mx between Savina and Myrian, nothing, vampire’s don’t have reflections.

45 – Talk

The first time she takes time to talk to Myrian, she think it’s when she’s doomed to love her for the rest of her life (unaware of how long that is).

46 – Past

Savina doesn’t tell her about her past, but whispers to Myrian and she pretends she didn’t listen (and she pretends it doesn’t hurt that Savina trusts Myrian more than her.)

47 – Fever

Maybe she should have known she loved Savina right then, after the weeks of torture as the wolf fought to survive the poison, when she only could breath again when the fever broke.

48 – Double

There’s much more than double the pain when you loose two soulmates.

49 – Plan

When she meets Harlow, she doesn’t see the spark, the silver or the golden, she only sees normal human eyes; so her plan is to settle down with this human that doesn’t host the souls of people she has loved for centuries.

50 – Fairytale

It’s almost a fairytale, her story – meeting one in a battlefield, meeting the other under the duty of a Crown Prince, and never being free of them.

[everthewip]

something I began and intend to continue, but @janec23 was interested and so here is a (lengthy) snippet 💕

My file for this was just called 'Nameless Slave' but I think I will be changing it to simply 'Saga' or 'Saga & Ylva'. Full snippet below cut.

Autumn leaves had covered the forest floor, keeping a soft cushion beneath the bare soles of her feet. It was a comfort she prayed would last. But, too soon the trees began to grow sparse, the blanket of leaves giving way to cold dirt and pebbles. Along the border of the woods was a rocky hillside that stretched wide in both directions. Rather than attempt to find a way around, she gritted her teeth and began the ascent over it.

Tough as her feet were they could not withstand the sharp edges of the rocks. Blood warmed the cold stone as they cut into her, but she did not stop or give in to the pain. The sooner she passed over the rocky terrain the better. 

On the other side lay a valley, surrounded on all edges by the forest. Tall, yellowed grass swayed in the afternoon wind as mountain peaks loomed to the near east. On the northern end of the valley rose a writhing snake of smoke, its source a low-burning campfire. A wagon was stationed near it, along with three figures sitting around the flames. Two horses grazed nearby. 

There was a scent in the air, of burning wood and fried meat. For a while she stood there, letting the blood of her feet seep into the grass, watching the distant figures. Her tongue watered at the scents, stirring the hunger rooted so deeply in her belly - in her bones. 

It hurt to move but she moved anyway. She expected nothing. If the strangers proved violent, they might kill her and end her suffering. If they were merciful they might toss her a bit of meat. Likely they would ignore her, but even that would be enough; if she could but feel the heat of their fire and inhale the scents of their meal, even from a distance, she would be satisfied. To her surprise, however, as she drew close enough to be noticed - first by the horses, who snorted warily, and then by the three strangers who turned to watch her - one of them stood up. 

Of the three she was the only woman, but as she rose the woman’s mere height brought her approach to a pause. She wasn’t close enough to hear what they said, but she could see the three speak. The two men rose as well, but they turned to the wagon to begin gathering their things. The woman turned and walked into the valley. 

She was taller than any average woman, though the men were equally taller than any average man. Broad shoulders set the frame of a sturdy and toned build, though most of it was hidden beneath layers of light leather. She had a strong jaw with a face more handsome than beautiful, and cold blue eyes that never once looked away from the barefoot girl. The hair on her head was coal black and braided, the long rope falling over her shoulder and past her breasts. Hints of tattoos marked what little skin was exposed on her arms and chest. 

The woman almost came close enough to touch, but stayed back a step or two to instead loom over the hungry runaway. Wood, smoke and sweat clung to her like a heady perfume that was both pleasant and not. She smelled like a man and glared down with the expectant authority of one. 

“What do they call you?” Her voice was deep but not hard, softened ever so slightly by the subtle hints of her womanhood. 

“I--” In contrast, the runaway’s voice was harsh and strained, the words catching in the dry crevices of her throat. The woman seemed to sense this. 

“Come,” she motioned for her to follow and without hesitation her command was obeyed. She led her back towards the campfire. It had yet to be doused and the warmth that wafted from it was just as pleasant as she had imagined. With a nod the woman gestured to a wooden crate and upon it the smaller woman sat. 

The two men had gone to retrieve the horses and when they were not looking the woman moved to the wagon and retrieved a small gourd. This she offered to the barefoot girl, who - upon hearing the water sloshing within - immediately opened the gourd and guzzled it down.

“Slowly,” the blue-eyed stranger warned, and so with great reluctance she lowered the gourd from her lips.

“Now, what are you called?”

“I don’t.. I don’t know.” The words came more easily, but her voice was still strained, still rough. She sounded nothing like herself. 

“You do not know,” the woman repeated firmly. “All things have a name. Did you forget yours?” 

She shook her head. Her hands trembled, sloshing about the water remaining in the gourd. She wanted to drink more, but beneath the woman’s cold eyes she remained still. For a moment neither spoke, but she knew a clearer response was expected. 

“No,” she continued, answering more properly. “They… Took them.” The words came out slow and broken, each of them causing her throat to sting. “Our names.” Hesitant, she lifted the gourd to take a small sip. 

“They took your names,” the woman repeated again. There was another crate pushed close to the fire, and upon this she sat - though even seated she loomed like the mountains at her back. Her eyes fell over the girl, taking in every tattered, thin, and weary detail. Beside them the men had returned and were hitching the horses to the wagon, passing quiet glances towards the fire. 

“You are a slave,” the woman stated, and the girl gave a weak nod. “What is a slave doing out here, alone?” 

“I ran.” In the early hours of the morning, before the sun had risen, when her owners were still lost to a drunken sleep. The overseer had been preoccupied with beating another slave and she had slipped away, quietly and with surprising ease. They had always been too afraid to run; she had eventually stopped caring, not even enough to live. 

Her own hazel eyes rose to meet the dark blue of the mountain woman’s, and she was surprised to see a smile at her thin lips. 

“A nameless slave running into the woods with no shoes, no food, and barely any clothes. You are foolish. Did they feed you, your owners?” 

Weakly, she nodded. 

“And they gave you water?”

Another nod. 

“Clothes, a place to sleep?”

Again, she confirmed her answer, now only with a single nod and a nervous sip of the water. Whatever reason the woman had for questioning her, she was certain the result would be the same. With the aid of horses it would be a swift journey back to the outpost, and once there she would face either a painful punishment or an even quicker death. 

“You had food, water, clothes, and a place to sleep,” the woman continued. “You were alive, even if that life was a harsh one. And yet you gave it up, ran into the woods where you could die. Why did you run?” 

Her hands still trembled, but she steeled herself to answer, to explain; that the food they were given was small, barely scraps, and a common punishment was to be given no food at all; that the water was dirty and they were allowed only so many drinks a day; that their clothes were thin and tattered, handed down from slave to slave, and they were only given shoes in the winter or when working in rocky terrain; that they all slept together, often outside, even in the cold. She prepared herself to say all of these things and more, but when her gaze lifted to meet the harsh hue of the woman’s, her voice caught in her throat. They were both silent for a while before she could answer, and when she did her words drew a sudden warmth to the stranger’s fair face. 

“I’d sooner die freely in the woods…” She had to pause and take another sip of water, just to soothe her throat. “... than as a slave.”

“A good answer,” the woman grinned. “You have claimed your freedom and we will not hold you from that.” She cast a sharp look to the men, both of whom had stopped to watch and listen, their gazes less approving than her own. Besides the two crates upon which the women sat, they had piled the rest of their belongings onto the wagon. “But we won’t leave you to die in the wild either. Fell, Hagen - make room.” 

As the men began to move crates and sacks around on the back of the wagon, the woman took the gourd of water from the newly freed slave and helped her stand. After sitting even for those short moments the bloody soles of her feet stung sharper than when they’d been cut over the rocks. She limped and with every step flinched and bit back the pain. The woman watched her and did not berate her for being too slow; when they reached the wagon she even helped her up onto the back. That alone was more kindness than she had ever known. 

The last two crates were piled on the wagon, the campfire was doused, and the two men - Fell and Hagen - took their place at the front of the wagon. The woman sat in the back with her, but until the horses were guided onto a dirt path she remained silent. 

“I am Ylva,” she said after a while. “And if you have no name, I will call you Saga, for I expect one day you will have many tales to share, beginning on the day you became free.”