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shiny-jr · 1 year ago

Text

from DIASOMNIA

- Warning: Yes, this is still a yandere thing. You have been warned. Gender-neutral reader.

- Characters: Malleus Draconia, Lilia Vanrouge, Silver, Sebek Zigvolt.

- Summary: (Continuation, after this “we just got a letter, wonder where it’s from”) You have barred them from entering the safety of Ramshackle Dorm, but they are determined to make their words reach you. Which is why the letters begin arriving at your doorstep.

- Note: This is just the first part, only with Diasomnia. I’ll post the rest later once its written. For now, I hope you enjoy this part! Oh, and this was inspired by the mention of letters @qierxing‘s fic inspired by the whole imposter au idea. So yeah. Hopefully I caught all the mistakes in this post because I am not rereading all that again.

Diasomnia | Ignihyde

Among the first letters you pick is carefully sealed in a black envelope. You found it peculiar that Grim, who had offered to use his claws to open the envelopes, hadn’t been able to cause the slightest tear as if it were being protected by some magic. But it opened with ease during your first attempt to rip it open.

You didn’t care much for the wax family crest that had sealed it, or the black envelope itself. Maybe it would feel liberating to just set them all ablaze as soon as you finished skimming over the carefully written words.

To my dearest human,

I understand the pain I have caused you.

Ever since that moment I betrayed you, all I have seen in my vision and in my mind is your expression of terror. It tortures me. Your terror spurred by my actions and my very own hands. I am your most beloved and loyalest of companions in this world, and yet, had my retainers behind those doors not intervened, you would have been gone forever. And it would have been all my doing, all my fault.

I write this letter to apologize, but as I write this, I realize that there is no forgiving what has been done. Ever. No matter how I plead or what comes from my lips. But I will say this: there are no amount of words that can truly convey how sorry I am. This will haunt me for the remainder of my centuries of life.

Agonizing thoughts plague my mind and torment me at all hours of the day and night, at every and each moment. Even now, I reflect on everything I had done to harm you. While, the time I believed in those falsehoods was minuscule compared to the days others knew and acted upon it, the fact still stands that I was too easily deceived by mere rumors alone. I was blinded by my rage when I heard that someone dared to impersonate you and had been the probable cause of your vessel’s malfunction, that I did not even take a brief respite to consider the validity of the information that reached my ears.

Believe me, although I realize you have no reason to hold even a shred of faith in a single word I say and for that I would not blame you, but I will atone for the crimes I have committed. In any way possible. Even if it takes my entire lifetime, I will continue forward until I have achieved this goal and you may smile upon me once again. There is a human saying, which if I recall correctly I believe goes something like, forgive but never forget. Well, I would beg for forgiveness, while knowing full well that my misdeeds will never truly be forgotten. The harm I inflicted will leave scars that will never fully fade.

For every scratch my nails left on your delicate flesh, you may drive vines of the sharpest thorns against my own skin until blood pools all around me. For every bruise from my hand that tainted you, I would hand you an iron sword to use as you wish against me until you believe I’ve had enough. If it pleased you, I would even utilize my magic to transform into a figure with wings, which I would then proceed to sever the wings by my own hand and offer them to you on a silver platter.

Any punishment you can think of, I would readily accept.

Although living with the guilt of my mistakes and knowledge of the weight of my actions against you, is by far the most painful torture I’ve ever known.

If I do not receive word from you soon, I fear I may go insane with my own guilt. Yet I know I bring this upon myself. And if I were to go insane, if I was not insane this entire time already, you are all that would be in my thoughts. You are all that would remain in the part of my mind that is intact. You are currently and have been all that I think of, so perhaps my sanity is already long gone.

I would venture into the deepest crevices of hell and back, just to prove my worth to you. Even if I must be punished for the rest of my life, so be it. But I implore you to allow me to redeem myself, let yourself bear witness to the incredible feats I may accomplish in your name. Redemption... The thought of perhaps one day receiving the blessing of your smile and your grace once more in the near or distant future, is the light at the end of the tunnel in this dark period of my existence. I am yours. Whether you still desire me or not, I will forever be yours, and I will brave through trials of fire to demonstrate my eternal devotion to you.

Just know that I will do everything in my power to please you. Whether it be to fulfill the judgement you cast upon me, to demonstrate my worth and determination to achieve redemption, or simply because you command it so, it shall be done.

For now, I will wait on your response and deliberate over my next course of action. Should you desire anything, anything at all, wether it be something as simple as traveling to the store for a purchase, you have a moment of recluse and desire company, or if you command me to move the island or clear the very heavens, all you must do is speak my name. Then, consider it done. Once my name is upon your lips, I will be there as the last syllable leaves your tongue.

I will await the moment I am summoned.

Forever yours,

Malleus Draconia

That was... unnerving. Your hand unconsciously drifted up to the slight puncture wounds on your neck. They had long since dried, but you vividly remember feeling the thin trail of crimson being drawn and dripping down like a steady stream.

You could remember the way Malleus withdrew as soon as he realized the truth, like he had been burned with his hands on you in that fashion. The blood, your blood, staining his sharpened nails. The red was deeper than any nail polish or ink.

You were nearly sent spiraling, until you felt a tap and the texture of paper against your arm. When you glance down, you see Grim pressing his paws with another crumpled letter onto you. The ink on this letter is red, but the feline’s wide curious eyes are a glowing blue.

“You okay? What’s so interesting about that wall you’re lookin’ at? You’re kinda just staring off into nothing there.”

Offering a grateful nod to Grim who frowned worriedly, you accept the already opened envelope while tossing aside the letter from Malleus. “I’m good. Just... thinking.”

Lifting a hand, you place your palm against his head and scratch the spot behind his ears. Grim lets out a content purr and holds a bag of junk food, which he probably found among the mountain of gifts, and curls up beside you. You continue the slow and soothing scratches as you use your freehand to unravel the letter Grim brought you from the towering stacks.

This envelope was already cut open. It was a light brown and more square-shaped as thin rope kept it tied together. It had a mash of colorful strings that formed a messy bow to top it off. At least, you assumed it was meant to be a bow, but it looked more like a messy knot that would be impossible to untangle. Good thing it was already partially cut by Grim’s claws earlier.

As mentioned, the ink was red, an interesting choice. While the handwriting was not as elegant as Malleus’ letter. Some words were written neatly, before falling off the line and blending with other words. Making it a bit difficult to read, but you managed.

If you’re reading this,

This means that I am not irredeemable in your eyes.

Had I been beyond redemption, you would have not even opened this letter. If this was a lost cause, a merry dance, this paper would’ve been tossed into the trash without a second thought. But, my words have reached you. You’re reading this right now, aren’t you? It’s why I decided to write this. I could predict the actions you’d take. You are different from your vessel, but it’s only natural that you would act similarly to the silly little doll you controlled, the same doll that sparked this whole fiasco.

I truly am so sorry if I frightened you. While I will admit, it was my intention to strike fear into your heart and use you to serve for another dubious purpose, that was when I hadn’t recognized you. Although, I know this doesn’t mean much to you, I figured I should be entirely honest to you. It’s the least I can do. I’m such a fool for being quick to believe the rumors like some sort of senseless child.

All I can do now, is remain true and offer up my loyalty. It’s nothing compared to the mistakes I made, and I’ve made plenty, but I know an apology will never suffice. So, even if you’re still uncertain about redemption, I’ll remain loyal. Among all the beings and creatures I’ve met in my lifetime, you remain an enigma. You’re human, but at the same time, you’re different. There continues to be so much I do not know of you. I wonder, could you hear me whenever I spoke to your plaything? Do you recall the stories I told, of my time as a reckless youth? Foolhardy, wild, that I was. But I was also fiercely loyal. For the Draconias, I razed down all foes like wheat in a field.

Now that I consider it, perhaps it's best if you hadn’t heard me recount those tales. While I had been eager to share with you my experiences and act out my thrilling adventures, perhaps my story telling was much too graphic. I wouldn’t want the vivid details of bloodshed to be cause for alarm as our most recent encounter was far from pleasant. You have to forgive me, sometimes I get carried away when narrating my accomplishments and exploits. I’ll share more light-hearted memories with you the next time we meet.

Our first meeting with your true self really went abysmally, didn’t it? I know that things never really go as planned, so I don’t bother planning such things in advance. But, I had pictured it to be a lovely moment. Silver and Sebek would look at you with shining eyes and proclaim their loyalty as they had practiced vows over and over again for such an occasion, I would get to embrace your true form and unlock your secrets, and of course Malleus would be truly content for once as he finally received the company he deserved.

But, as expected, things didn’t go accordingly.

Those three youths are miserable, thinking of the proper words to pen, a way to apologize for the suffering they’ve caused. But now, we are the ones suffering because we hurt you.

They write and write, but tear their letters over and over again as they believe no words they’ve written so far are adequate. Soon they’ll realize that no words will ever be sufficient for an apology. Even if they were to create new words that are unheard of by any dictionary, it would not come close to being enough. That’s why I’ve decided to stick with this single attempt, because I already know that nothing I ever write will measure up to being acceptable.

There is something about you that always leaves me bemused. Your grace left me feeling dizzy and giddy, like I was experiencing a little crush again, although this was much more intense than any crush. The truth about your vessel controlled by you, had me perplexed as I had never heard of such a thing. And well, the disastrous chase that followed your arrival... you know that part well and could assume how I feel about that from what I’ve told you. At present, all I can do is remain loyal, for what my loyalty is worth to you. Beyond that, despite having an abundance of experiences, there is no such situation that could have prepared me for this moment.

Genuinely, I am stumped once again. I cannot even envision what can be done with my own two hands, that can be worthy of your attention once again and earn me redemption. But, you can be certain of one thing, and that is: my loyalty is undying. I still have a few years left in these old bones of mine, and I will use the rest of my life to serve you.

Whether you want me or not. If you still want me, I will be of use to you. Whatever you are in need of, a soldier, a plaything, a companion, or even someone to take out your anger on. I shall be it. If you don’t want me, I will still be there. I will always be there to smile and lift your spirits like you once did for me through your doll.

I eagerly wait for word from you.

Until we meet again soon,

Lilia Vanrouge

None of these letters were comforting in the slightest. In fact, they only placed you further on edge. For a moment, you considered stopping it here after only two and getting rid of the rest.

Grim by now had settled in your lap, and looked up at you with those watchful blue eyes. Had he been staring at you the entire time?

“Let me guess, they’re not taking it well?”

“No, not at all.” You answer with a grimace. If this was how they were like now, you didn’t even want to know how they acted when they found out your vessel stopped working over a week ago.

“Huh, sucks for them.” The feline stretched out, his claws poking out for a moment before quickly retracting as he plopped back down on his back with his stomach up. Maybe it was his own attempts to fill the silence, or to let you know you weren’t alone, but he eventually groaned. “Hey, read me one. I wanna know what they say.”

Unable to say no to your companion, you nodded slowly and smiled weakly, “Alright, alright, let’s see what we have here...”

You plucked out a random letter with neat packaging. However, just because the exterior was pretty, didn’t mean the interior message would be. You learned that already from the last two letters you had read.

This envelope looked somewhat similar to the last one, square-shaped and tied closed with string. However, instead of the knot of ribbons on it, it held a simpler gift. The brown rope around it was tied in a neat bow, and between the string were lavender stems with a small branch of wild berries.

Grim immediately indulged in the berries and the flowers, staining his little fangs and whiskers with the sweet sticky juice and purple petals. All the while exclaiming, “Oh, oh! I remember this letter. Some bird came to drop it and it flew away just before I could catch it...”

A short laugh escaped your lips as you hear him. “So that’s why you were grumbling this morning.”

Not wanting to be reminded again, he swat his paw at your nose as the feline hissed, “Shh! Just read already!”

Dear player,

I truly am deeply remorseful and I offer my sincerest apologies.

I was to be a knight, that has been something I have strived for ever since I was a child. A knight not just to serve Malleus but to protect others, and eventually I discovered my purpose was to serve you as well. But... all I did was stand idly by and watch the torment. Shortly after meeting your vessel, I had promised to shield you from all danger. I broke that promise.

I cannot imagine how frightened you must have been. Had just one person stop and thought things through, they may have realized the horrible mistake that was being made. Had I acted as soon as I felt the tug on my heart when I saw you weakened and on the dirt, I may have saved you from anymore pain.

Those eyes, your eyes, I see them in my sleep. You were scared, and through your gaze you were pleading for help, were you not? I see it every time I close my eyes. You witnessed it yourself, the very moment when I had failed you. You were right there, so close I could have extended a helping hand. But my grief rendered me sightless, all I could think of in that moment is how my heart ached and how I longed to see you again. Even if it was through your vessel. The rumors didn’t quite make any sense to me, as I wondered how could anyone possibly be so cruel as to tear you away from us?

Father had said that it would all be over soon. That capturing the imposter and bringing them to their knees, would make everything better. But when I saw you on the ground before we learned of your identity, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was alright. Would the player have wanted this? Would they have scorned upon witnessing the scene? Would this undoubtedly end the throbbing pain I felt in my heart? The pain was becoming unbearable, and I was not the only one to feel it. The news made little sense to me. Sebek insisted that it was true, and Father seemed to believe so as well. However, that is no excuse for how I went along as if it were okay.

You were innocent and helpless, you, the player, not only witnessed the scene but were the victim. I’m so sorry, I should have done something... If it were the only way to gain your forgiveness, I would spend every moment of my waking hours writing letters of apology. To do so I would keep myself awake for as long as humanely possible. If asked, I would use every moment to pen these letters, each different from the last. Although after several attempts in redoing this single letter, I realize that it would be a pointless endeavor.

After reflecting, the only way to make up for what I have do is be patient.

Be patient and await for word from you. I cannot force you, I cannot pressure you, I can only pause and prepare myself to do whatever I must in order to earn back your grace.

Please, do not keep me waiting too long. I know I have no right to ask you this. I’m willing to wait years if needed, but part of me has this fear that I will never regain a spot near your heart until I’m frail and feeble with age. Rest assured, even in old age, I would be willing to be your knight. Even if my bones ached, I would raise my sword and shield. If I couldn’t use my weakened legs, I would call upon a horse to be my steed. And if I were to become magicless, I would use the remainder of my physical strength to serve you.

If I may be honest with you? I have no idea what to do. Yes, I said I would wait, but what else can I do? What can I do to eventually secure a place beside you, if it were possible? In times of trouble I normally turn to Lilia and Malleus for advice, however, I am a bit unsettled by their approach to this delicate matter. Truthfully, I am anxious, but while they share the sentiment, they are oddly confident that things will turn out alright in the end. I am unsure how they can muster the self-assurance to quell their fears. Maybe they know something that I do not, and have decided not to share this secret for now...

Nevertheless, for now I’ll eagerly anticipate the day we can reunite just as I have dreamed. I greatly look forward to the second where not only I can see you smile once again and your eyes might finally look at me with content, but also the moment where all those I know might get the opportunity to be in your peaceful grace.

I’ve dragged this letter on for too long. If you were to take something away from this letter, let it be this: I will carry out your wishes. No matter what you may think of me, whether it be a positive or negative image in your mind, I will continue forward in your name. Even if you think me unfit for the title of knight, then consider me a humble servant instead. Nothing will shake my commitment, and I will do whatever it is you ask.

This is a pledge that will not be broken.

Cordially,

Silver

This letter felt a bit lighter than the others. Still, it was slightly intense in its own way, but it was nowhere near as extreme as the previous two were. And, maybe you had a better opinion on Silver, not because he was gentle with his words but because he was one of the very few who hadn’t threatened you, directly harmed you, or treated you cruelly.

But! He didn’t get a free pass just because of that. Yes, he may not have directly caused any harm, but he didn’t exactly help you either.

Grim had taken the letter from you, and inspected the paper in his paws. He held it above his head, scrunching up his nose a bit as he looked it over. “I dunno... he’s okay.”

At that, you roll your eyes a bit as a smirk crept up from the corner of your mouth. “You’re not just saying that because his letter came with a snack?”

“No! You think me easy to bribe? I think not! It would take a whole bucket full of berries just to get me to even discuss it. Then, I’d turn them down and take the berries anyways!” The feline proclaimed his brilliant plan should that situation ever arise. Maybe the gifts you allowed him to take were starting to get to his head. “But... he could be worse. Silver, as dumb as he was like everyone else, he did hear me out after they separated us.”

Silver did that? If that were true, it’s possible that he wasn’t as bad as the others who had wronged you.

“That’s... good to know.” You murmur as you pluck up another random envelope from the pile.

The last envelope you pick up before you planned to take a break was surprisingly plain. It was just that. A plain white envelope, sealed by green wax with what looked like a family crest that depicted a creature with fangs and scales. One of the corners was crinkled, as if it was gripped too tightly there.

As soon as you slid out the folded letter, you were bombarded by the ink. Whoever had wrote this, seemed like they applied too much force. This caused certain parts of some letters to be too round and heavy with ink that made those bits feel damp and stain your fingers the slightest bit. Like whoever wrote this, placed just as much pressure with their hands on the pen gliding across the page, as much pressure as they felt weighing on their mind.

Great Player,

As I pen this, I am on my hands and knees.

I have prepared a multitude of letters which I will send daily, so that now and in the future you will continue to hear my apology and know I truly mean it. One admission of regret is not enough. An apology is only an acknowledgment of an offense, it does not absolve one of their wrongdoings. I know this! So, I, Sebek Zigvolt, will atone by any means necessary!

To you, the player who I wronged and deserves nothing but happiness and perfection, I give my deepest sincerest profuse apology. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m SORRY. Right now when I look at my hands that I use to write, I’m reminded of the vicious way I grabbed you like some... heathen! These hands sullied your flawless self, and for that alone I will never forgive myself!

Had it not been for the wise words of Master Lilia and the bothersome yet logical reasoning from Silver, I would have been at your door everyday, every hour, begging for a second chance. In the midst of brainstorming, I presented my idea of crawling on hands and knees, from Diasomnia to the Ramshackle Dorm, to deliver the letter myself. Then, I would display whatever cuts or bruises formed on my palms and knees which I would receive from the rocky roads or thorns, that way you may see my devotion was true and no lengths are too great when it comes to you! No matter the pain or burden! The idea seems to appeal to Lord Malleus, but I was told that it comes off as too extreme...

But! I beg to differ!! I only consider it so that you may understand what I feel, so that you might comprehend the things I would do for you, and receive me back in your good graces! Additionally, delivering the letter in this manner would cause me as much or more physical pain than I caused you! It is a shame that things have come to this. I had wished so much for our first proper meeting to be one of joy where you might accept me as your knight! In spite of that, I will not falter in shame! If I were to deliver the following letters in that method I had detailed earlier, I would wear the scars proudly! It would be physical proof of my faithfulness towards you!

I am sorry, and I will continue to say it. Perhaps, this may be presumptuous of me, but if you consider it, Diasomnia did not torment you nearly as long as any other insolent dorm had! And! We retainers accompanied Lord Malleus every day to check on the wellbeing of your vessel, and watch over it while investigating various possible approaches on how to revive Yuu. We diligently did this until the moment we encountered your true self!

I swear to you, no one shall harm you from this moment forth!

From now on, I’ll march forward and see to it that you are never hurt ever again! This is something I know that my fellow dormmates will tirelessly work toward as well.

Have you realized that we have been guarding you and the serenity of your dorm in the past days? Have you not thought it strange that none have come to needlessly pester you? Yes, that is all thanks to the efforts of those in Diasomnia! Even when you do not realize it, we are insuring your welfare and the tranquility you require to recover! Of course, as much as I desperately want to inform you of the details, I will not. It is best you don’t know.

Now, I must be honest with you. Originally, I had planned this letter to be much longer and have contents that would have been much different than what you are currently reading. I aimed to be honest in my feelings! But before I could sign off on the original draft, I realized that the others may be in the right. It is possible that our devotion, my devotion, may come off as disquieting if I were completely sincere. I’ve had to restrain myself on many occasions, reminding myself to at least appear collected and controlled. That is not as easy as it sounds!

How could it be, when the one I must suppress my emotions and actions for, is you? That’s as if asking to repress part of my very soul and heart! I absolutely detest hiding it!! But when I remember this is for you and your own comfort, it becomes bearable. I can only hope that soon, very soon, I might be able to unveil my true sentiments towards you! As intense and extreme as they may be!

It seems that I’m nearing the word limit that they imposed. Once again, I apologize. I’ll have to contemplate new ways to write ‘sorry.’ I wish I could write a million more words for you! But even a million words wouldn’t be anywhere near a satisfactory amount for me to detail how much I revere you! And it would take more than another million words for me to write a full apology, but even then I wouldn’t be satisfied! No single letter is adequate enough, so be prepared to receive the rest I have written!

I will make sure they are delivered posthaste!

Faithfully,

Sebek Zigvolt

Great... you’re back to being unnerved again.

There was something about them all being so weirdly obsessed, but in vary different ways. Malleus and Lilia puzzled you, they had you feeling the most uneasy by far. Maybe it had to do with the fact that they were both not human, they were arcane beings with enigmatic personalities and objectives that were incomprehensible to you.

Out of the four, Silver was the only one that was fully human like yourself, but even he was a bit of a mystery as he was raised by the fae. It was hard to be wary of him, which was probably because your distrust and fear of him wasn’t as intense as it was towards the others due to his good nature and lack of actions he took during the whole disaster.

As for Sebek, well, he was unnerving in his own right but it was nowhere near on the level that Malleus and Lilia were on. At the very least he wasn’t a complete mystery to you. It was easy to figure out his intentions, because he either said them or wore them on his sleeve.

Your mind was spinning as you looked over the four letters, filled with lines upon lines and more lines of pages. In that moment your breath quickened as you noticed the cloudy sky outside. For a brief second, you feared you would see that familiar flash of green lightning, taking you back to that dark day when you nearly died. It’s like you could feel Sebek’s hands tightly gripping the back of your skull that forced you against the earth, you saw Silver’s sorrowful gaze that spoke a thousand words you didn’t yet understand, you heard Lilia’s words hinting to a doomed fate of becoming some lifeless doll, and god, you couldn’t forget him even if you wanted to. Malleus. He was the worst of all. You felt his nails and fingers constricting around your neck and squeezing out all the air, you saw his haunting green eyes with those slit pupils as he glowered at you with such anger and hate, and you heard what you had thought would be the last words you ever heard come from his lips––

“Hey!”

You were torn out of those dark thoughts by the feline in your lap. A concerned frown tugged at Grim’s lips, but once he saw he had your attention, he mustered a slight grin as he held up what looked like an armful of snacks. At least, as much as he could carry in his small paws. From his grin, you could see his little fangs still covered in the remnants of the berries and flower petals.

“Look, I found your favorite! This is getting boring, so let’s just take a break!”

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my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction · 2 months ago

Text

When Darkness Falls

Orestes x afab!Monster!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info • Kinktober 2024 Masterlist • Day 16: Public Sex

Summary: After Orestes and his men are captured by a strange group, the punishment seems unusual.

A/N: Thank you so much @thexsanctuaryx for beating and saving me as always! I don't know how my mind turned 'public sex' into this.

Warnings: Monster!Reader (werewolf-y), swearing, p in v sex, injuries, please let me know if I have missed a warning!

Word Count: 1850

Orestes winced as the guard pressed against his injured shoulder and forced him to his knees. His wrists were bound behind his back, so tightly that the rope was cutting off the blood supply to his fingers.

“You are accused of trespassing on our lands. From taking fruit from the Hylopius tree.” The man bellowed, he was dressed in dark blue robes finely woven. Seven others, presumably nobles and the jury, stood to his side.

“My men and I were lost, we took shelter from the storm. We did not know these were your lands,” Orestes tries to keep his tone strong and even, to keep his chin high as he answers. “We-”

“Ignorance is not an excuse.” He snarls. “You pillage, and take. But you are far from your Rome now. Your crimes will not go unpunished.”

Orestes breathes deeply. “Please, my men, they are innocent in this. I will take the punishment, if you let-”

“You are in no position to demand anything.”

“I am not demanding, I am-” The leader gestures with his hand and Orestes winces in pain as the guard presses against the wound in his temple.

“Your men fought back against our soldiers, they are as guilty as you are. I will cast punishment on you all.” He grins wickedly. “The Lycan’s Pit.”

The noblemen laugh.

Orestes is dragged to his feet and pulled from the room, “What, what is that? What do you speak of?”

The guards do not answer as he is taken into a large hall beautifully decorated in fine mosaic. The images of torn bodies and blood, of huge creatures with red eyes shaped like the beasts of childhood nightmares painstakingly crafted. There are rows of seats carved into the walls, the layout reminiscent of a small scale colosseum, able to hold around 50 people.

In the centre of the room was a circle pit that seemed to travel into the depths of the earth itself.

“They will feast on your flesh.” The leader laughs.

“Wait-” A loud gong of a bell echoes out, cutting off his words as he is thrown into the middle of the room next to the pit, he grunts, managing to get to his knees as the guards bring out thorned branches layered with silver chains. They arrange them around the outside of the floor, a barrier from the seats and Orestes.

“What is that?” He asks.

The nobles take seats as the guards stand to attention, more people flood in, all equally dressed in finery and sit.

“The Lycans cannot cross the barrier.” The leader laughs, like he was explaining a basic concept.

“I wonder who will join us today?” One nobel asks another.

“I hope it is Baral. He is the most vicious. I want to see him tear the roman apart.”

Orestes swallows thickly, pulling at the ropes. If he could just…

There is a low growl from the pit. A deep and terrible snap of teeth.

He freezes despite myself when a large clawed hand grabs hold of the side. It‘s huge, the palm alone bigger than his head, some kind of mix between a human and a wolf.

Slowly the creature pulls itself up and out, snarling with rows of sharp teeth and blood red eyes.

He wants to scream. But he can’t move, can’t think.

A hush falls on the nobles as the creature appears and stalks around to Orestes.

He seems to snap back to reality, and struggles to stand, to run, to defend himself, to-

The creature lunges forward and on top of him.

He closes his eyes, bracing for the sharp stink of ripping claws and teeth. But it doesn’t come.

He breathes deeply, raggedly, his heart pounding in his temples and slowly opens his eyes.

It’s dark, like he’s in a cave. It takes a moment for him to realise that the cave is fur. The creature seemingly, somehow draped over him to make a small tent like space.

He sits up a little, his shoulder brushing the fur. It’s soft and warm, moving a little with the creature's breath.

“Hello.”

He jumps, pushing himself back further against the fur and you giggle.

“I am sorry to scare you.”

Orestes blinks heavily, you’re sitting opposite him crouched with a large smile on your face. He can see your canines, larger than a person’s should be, and your eyes deep and red. But beautiful, oh so painfully beautiful.

You give him a little wave and he nods his head.

“They tied you?” Your voice is sweet and gentle.

He nods again.

You tut and carefully edge forward.

He swallows, sucking in a breath in spite of himself, you move like running water, swift and mesmerising, your body completely naked.

You watch him as you move, careful for any signs of distress like he was an injured rabbit in a trap.

You reach back and cut the ropes with your sharp nails that retract a little when you are finished.

“There you go.” “Thank you.” He mutters, staring bewitched as you move back a fraction but remain close. “There is a creature, a…”

You smile. He knows it’s you.

“Where are we?” He swallows, rubbing life back into his fingers.

“We are not where you were.”

“Am I dead?”

You shake your head. “We will have to return there, shortly. Here is just to talk for a moment.” You touch his temple, the gooey blood on his skin.

He flinches but doesn’t pull away when he realises your touch is gentle.

“Are you going to kill me?” He breathes, watching you intently. His heart is still beating fast, his muscles tingling with adrenaline. But he doesn’t want to run or fight, he wants… he wants to…

“No.” You smile, taking your fingers to your lips and licking off his blood.

“Why?” He asks without thinking.

You laugh lightly. “You smell… nice.”

“Nice?” His mouth twitches upwards, surprised.

You nod, leaning a little forward. “You don’t smell like food.” You whisper.

Orestes swallows. He can’t help himself, can’t stop himself even if he wanted to. He tilts his head and presses his lips to yours in a rush.

You lick into his mouth and he tastes his own blood on your tongue. He groans, lightheaded and needy as he presses himself closer.

He whines when you pull back a fraction, smiling. “You smell like a mate.”

Orestes nods desperately. “Please.”

“Do you accept me?”

He nods rapidly, pushing himself closer to you again. His cock aches between his legs, pressing against his clothing and begging to be freed.

“In any form?”

“In any form.” He mutters. “Please.”

You grin.

In a blink of his eyes, he is back in the mosaic hall, flat on his back. The nobles watching as the creature, you, lean over him, your teeth so close to snapping into the flesh of his neck.

He turns his head, touches your soft fur with his free hands. “Please.”

You let out a soft growl, the sound vibrating through his chest.

There’s some quiet murmuring from the crowd, anticipation as they think he’s about to get eaten alive.

With one clawed hand, you lightly dip under his clothing, ripping it in two clean down the middle.

Orestes gasps, biting his lip as you bow your head down and lick a broad flat stripe with your thick tongue. You start between his legs, rising up his body until you flick just under his jaw.

He groans, his eyes rolling back as he squirms under you, your strong form keeping him pressed down and at your mercy.

There are a few confused whispers, surprised at how he seems to be enjoying himself.

His cock is already painfully hard, throbbing in time with his rapid heartbeat. You nuzzle at his neck, your breath hot on his skin as you lay yourself fully over him, moving your legs and taking his length inside yourself.

Orestes gasps, moaning loudly as he sinks inside. He claws at your fur, trying to pull you closer as he shakes. It feels so good, liquid pleasure running up his spine as he fills you that practically paralyses him in place.

His cry of passion is almost indistinguishable from one of pain, and at first, the crowd thinks he has been split open.

You growl and he shivers as you rock your hips. It’s like you’re everywhere, touching him with claws and teeth and nails and hands. He can feel your lips on his thighs and stomach, fur and skin on his chest, both forms seemingly at once as you increase your pace.

It’s electric, addicting as you devour him; mind, and body, and soul.

“Yes, yes, please, yes,” he moans, uncaring of the many eyes watching him hurtling rapidly to his release. Your heat squeezes him, caresses him, lets him sink deeper into mind numbing pleasure.

“Please,” he sobs, he wants to call your name but he realises, painfully, that he hadn’t asked for it, instead he pulls at your fur, at your shoulders, at any part of you he can reach.

You snap your teeth and it sounds like a chuckle before you lick along his neck and drag your canines along his skin.

“My heart,” he whispers, his voice strained, “I’m, I’m close.” He doesn’t want this to stop, to ever end. But he can feel his body racing towards his climax like an unbridled horse. His hips buck, his balls tightened.

You rock faster, you slick running down and coating his skin as your warmth begs for his release. In this form, you need his pleasure desperately. Can only have your own as he experiences his.

He whines, crying out beautifully as his back arches. He comes loudly, shivering and sobbing as he empties into you, giving you every single part of himself.

Pleasure rushes along your veins, embeds in your bones and you howl, long and hard as you come with him.

You lick into his mouth, cradling him as he nuzzles against you.

“Foolish beast!” The leader yells, shouting for the guards.

One hurls a spear at you that clatters off your form as if it was a rain drop. But Orestes flinches.

And you snarl.

You turn quickly, jumping from him and barreling through the barrier that does absolutely nothing to stop you. You rip the guards and nobles to pieces in a matter of seconds, moving faster than they can fathom as they scream in terror. How dare they threaten him, your mate.

You blink, the rage dulling.

Slowly, you turn back to Orestes, worried for a second about your outburst until you see his soft eyes as he reaches out for you. You move back to him, nuzzling your face into his palm.

He kisses your nose, your cheek, licking some of the sprayed blood from your fur as you embrace him, laying him back down under you protectively.

“I did not ask for your name, my love.” He whispers softly and smiles when you mutter it against his ear. He repeats it slowly with undying affection.

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @campingwiththecharmings @alexxavicry @whatthefishh

@romanarose @strangerhands @saturn-rings-writes ho

@steven-grants-world @eyelessfaces @angel-of-the-moons @minigirl87 @lunar-ghoulie

@silvernight-m @autismsupermusicalassassin @apesarecuul @reallyrallyauthor @basicalyrandom

@alwaysmicado @mangoslushcrush @marc-spectorr @spxctorsslxt @novarosewood

@pygmi-cygni @hammerhead96 @emma23 @sub-aro @killerdollz

@maplemind @mwltwo @loonymagizoologist @dameronshandholder @queerly-anxious

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@mandytrekkie @lounilu @avengersinitiative2012 @pigeonmama @marcsb1tch

@iolaussharpe-24 @chaithetics @DowBaStan @faretheeoscar@lonelyisamyw-0love

@queerponc @twwcs @Spnwhore2430 @mari-thesimp @ominoose

@ierofrnkk @have-you-seen-my-sanity

If you'd like to be taken off the tag list please let me know here

#orestes #agora #orestes x reader #x reader #orestes x you #x you #orestes x female reader #x female reader #orestes x f!reader #x f!reader #orestes x fem!reader #x fem!reader #my writing #fanfic #oscar isaac #oscar isaac characters

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ladynearthelake · 2 months ago

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Let Them Try

Are you also constantly thinking about how even if Bells Hells wins the day, Orym still has that bargain he made with Nana Morri waiting to ruin his happy ending? Or are you normal?

Anyway, here's a fic:

And in the blink of an eye, it’s done.

A laugh pulls itself from Imogen’s throat as Laudna slams into her, holding the sorceress tightly.

“Well, I definitely didn’t expect that,” Fearne says as Ashton cackling behind her. He shoves Braius in the shoulder as Chetney howls with joy.

Dorian let’s his eyes scan over them, a smile of disbelief on his face. They did it. They actually manged to stop Ludinus.

It’s over.

He lets his eyes fall on Orym, who is staring at Dorian like he’s never allowed himself to before. Laughter bubbles from Dorian’s mouth as he drops his ancestral sword and lute to the ground. Tears prick at the corners of his eyes as he runs for Orym. They collide, and Dorian lifts Orym into his arms, spinning up into the air as he laughs like a mad man.

They get to try. There’s a future now, and they get to see if they can walk through it together.

Orym clings to the back of Dorian’s shirt as if he’s worried Dorian will disappear.

Dorian falls to his knees and holds Orym at arms length. He cups Orym’s face and leans close.

It’s been on the tip of Dorian’s tongue since Orym’s desperate sending stone message weeks ago. The genasi has wanted to say it, but couldn’t find the right moment. Even falling asleep with Orym in his arms last night (that was last night? It feels like it was months ago…), Dorian couldn’t get the words right.

But now…he can say it now.

“Orym, I—”

Dorian cuts himself off as Orym steps away. His hands linger in the air, reaching for the halfling. There’s a question on his lips, but he stops when he sees the vines snaking out from under Orym’s armor.

“Oh no.”

Dorian looks over his shoulder and sees Fearne staring at Orym with a look of horror that he’s never seen on her face before.

“What’s wrong?” Dorian asks, reaching for Orym again.

The halfing dodges, but his movements are stilted. The vines aren’t just coming from under his armor. They’re bursting out of his skin. “I…I had to, Fearne.”

Horror turns to anger on the faun’s face.

“Orym, what the hell is happening?” Dorian demands.

The halfling studies him with an intensity that nearly makes Dorian shrink back. When Orym opens his mouth to respond, he chokes. Vines erupt from his mouth, strangling the words. It’s a horrifying mirror to the Wildmother’s blessing in Vasselheim as the vines engulf Orym’s small frame. Flowers blossom along the twisted cocoon.

Dorian lunges forward. He pulls at the vines, flinching as the thorns rip at his flesh. He feels Fearne’s hands on his shoulders, but Dorian will not be deterred. He wrenches at a vine, but it withers in his hand. The ash blows from his palm. He looks up to Orym and gasps. He feels Fearne collapse against his back as they watch the vines die just as fast as they grew.

There’s nothing there. Orym is gone.

After much discussion, it’s decided that Dorian and Fearne will enter Ligament Manor. They argued that a massive party would rub Nana Morri the wrong way. It had taken hours to talk down Orym’s sisters-in-law and the Voice of the Tempest.

“He deserves a happy ending, Dorian,” Keyleth had said to him. She pulled him away from the group into her private quarters. She wanted to speak with him before they left for the Feywild. “Of everyone, he deserves peace.”

Her eyes drift to the slightly ajar door off this sitting room. Dorian knows the man they rescued from the Malleus Key is resting there. He’s heard the story whispered many times. If he survives, he may just turn it into a ballad.

Dorian nods at the Tempest, and she presses up to her tiptoes to kiss his forehead. If she blesses him, Dorian has no idea, but he’s filled with a warmth he hasn’t felt since he last saw his mother.

“Bring him home, Dorian, please.”

There is no question that all of Bells Hells would travel to the Feywild with Fearne and Dorian, but they remain on outskirts of Morri’s domain.

“I’ll be able to hear you if you call,” Imogen says, tapping her forehead. “Just give us the signal, and we’ll come runnin’”

“We’ll be fine,” Fearne reassures them. Dorian is sure she’s ignoring the growing number of eyes staring at the party from the thick canopy above.

In his head, he hears, “You’ll holler if it gets bad?”

“Of course,” he silently answers back. “But hopefully it won’t come to that.”

Ashton pulls Fearne into a hug and lifts a trinket from her dress. She clearly notices, biting them on the nose before brushing a kiss against their cheek.

Dorian aches for the soft touch of Orym’s skin.

“We’ll be back before you know it,” Fearne says.

“I think we’re all blowing this out of proportion,” Fearne says as they approach the massive tree house. She’s trying to act more confident than she appears. Dorian’s known her long enough to see the panic she’s trying to hide. “All we’ll have to do it talk to her. It’s not like these bargains are a big deal or anything.”

“Mm hm,” Dorian offers, desperately trying not to think of the topiaries and powerful archfey turned into wall art.

He stops short of entering the home and turns to Fearne. “He never said anything about this?” he asks.

Fearne looks a him for a moment before averting her eyes. Guilt presses heavily on her shoulders.

“Once. That night with the sword business. With Delilah. He mentioned it, but I never brought it back up. We just got so caught up with everything…” She trails off and turns away.

'No time' echoes in Dorian’s head. He catches Fearne’s shoulder and gently moves her to face him again.

“None of us asked,” Dorian said. “That night was…a lot. But we can make it right now.”

Fearne quickly wipes the tears that have rolled down her cheeks. “He was never okay, Dorian. I should have…”

“I think we’re all guilty of not recognizing his turmoil,” Dorian said, squeezing her shoulder. “He is always so concerned about everyone else. He likes to say he’s not a leader, but he puts everyone ahead of himself.”

Fearne clutches his hand on her shoulder. “He doesn’t get to do that anymore.”

“You’ll help me make sure?” he asks with a soft smile.

Her eyes glistening, Fearne nods, and they head into the manor.

Their welcome is more subdued than last time. The flowers remain closed, but still move as if watching Fearne and Dorian pass. The bard has his lute in his hands, but his fingers are still. He has a song at the ready should he need it. He’s been working on it for quite some time.

The thick walls of the tree trunk echo their footfalls as the pair move up the stairs. Fearne’s expression is pinched. She steps lighter than she normally would. Dorian keeps a pace behind her, humming to himself.

Orange light flickers at the top of the stairs, bending the shadows menacingly. Dorian’s step stutters, his eyes seeing a stretch of a spider’s web against the light. He breaths through his fear and hurries to keep up with Fearne.

They crest the top of the stairs into the parlor. The tiki bar is cleaned and tidy on the far end of the room, and the large, cracked leather easy chair is vacant. The sconces on the walls dim as they enter, leaving the room a deep umber color.

“This isn’t normal, is it?” Dorian asks. “Normal of course being relative—”

“Fearnie?”

The pair freezes and turns to the stairwell leading to the tree top. Orym has a hand on the bannister and one foot still on the last stair. He’s healed from whatever hurts he sustained during the battle with Ludinus. The vines didn’t seem to do anything to harm him. There’s a tension in the way he’s holding himself as if he’s surprised they’re here.

That look breaks Dorian’s heart.

Orym’s eyes land on Dorian, and he inhales deeply.

“Fearne, dear!” Nana Morri’s voice booms from the opposite side of the room. A door that wasn’t there a moment ago closes behind her. “I hadn’t expected to see you again so soon, though I suppose whisking your friend away so quickly would necessitate a visit.”

Fearne runs forward and clings to her grandmother. Dorian can’t blame her. He genuinely didn’t think they would get out of there. He can only imagine how he’s going to react when he sees his father and mother again.

“Nana,” Fearne says as she pulls away. “I came to ask a favor.”

“Did you?” Morri says, her long neck craning to look over at Dorian. “And you brought the cute boy with. Interesting.” Her head turns to Orym. “Very interesting, indeed.”

Dorian bites his lip, fighting his instinct to speak. Fearne said she could make this work. He has to trust her.

“Nana—”

Her grandmother takes Fearne’s hand in her own. Her long fingers wrap twice around her grand daughter’s wrists. “I don’t mean to cut you off, my dear. You know that I would do most anything for you. But I know what you’re going to ask.”

“Oh?” Fearne says, trying to act surprised.

“I know you care for this man,” she says, nodding towards Orym. “But he made a bargain. I honored my end, and now he is honoring his. This is the way of things.”

“But Nana, he—”

“Is an adult who made his choice.”

“Fearnie, you didn’t have to do this,” Orym says. He still hasn’t moved, but he’s very deliberately not looking at Dorian. “I knew what I was doing.”

Dorian feels a deep anger well up in his stomach. It fights with the love he holds for Orym. The emotions burst out of him, despite his best effort to keep them in.

“Making a bargain to save your friends?” He says, an incredulous laugh causing his voice to break. Orym looks at the floor with a flinch. “After everything with the crown, I thought you would know better.”

“Dorian, I had to.”

And Dorian gets it. He really does. He can’t go back in time and stop Orym from offering up his future to make sure his friends would be safe. But he can try to fix things now.

Dorian looks to Nana Morri, who is leering at him with increasing curiosity. “Would you like to bargain, young man?”

Orym's eyes go wide. He moves to say something, but Dorian doesn't give him the chance.

“I’ve come to collect what wasn’t Orym’s to trade.”

Nana Morri laughs from both her mouths, a high pitched cackle and a deep, bassy chuckle. “You know, I’ve heard that one a few times before. But he was never yours, dear boy. You two made no promises or pacts.”

Dorian clears his throat. “No, he belonged to another. The sword and shield he carries are proof of that devotion. He belongs to his husband and his family, the Ashari and Bells Hells. He never should have bargained.”

Morrigan beckons Orym and the halfing steps closer to her. She raps a knobby knuckle on his armor. “No mention of this? I understand it was gifted by someone who loves him as well.”

Dorian looks right at Orym. “Yes, it was.”

“Nana…” Fearne whispers, still tucked into her grandmother’s side. “Please?”

Morrigan looks from Orym to Fearne before fixing Dorian with a calculating look. “This is old magic, my boy. I’m just as bound by it as he is. My grand daughter cares for you both deeply, and technically, the little metal creature died on your mission, even if your band had already been back on Exandria. My end of the deal was fulfilled.” The Fatestitcher cocks her head. “However, if you had something to offer? Perhaps we could trade back?”

“Dorian, you don’t have to—”

“Stop it,” Dorian all but shouts. “You deserve a happy ending, Orym. We had to hold back a whole legion of folk who wanted to storm this place just to give you a chance at one. You’ve carried so much for so long. Let me do this for you. Please.”

He takes a deep breath, pawing at his eyes with the back of his wrist. He blinks away the moisture there and readies himself.

“I offer you a song, my lady,” he says.

And he plays.

It’s not a love song. Dorian isn’t experienced enough for such things, and he doesn’t want the come to come across as saccharine or sappy. The song isn’t about him or his intense feelings for Orym. It’s a song about the fighter. The survivor. A man who managed to get back up after every fall. Who only wanted to do right by those he holds tightest in his heart. It’s a song about a man who constantly steps in the line of fire to protect those he loves.

But it’s not a love song.

Dorian feels like he plays for hours. Stars are born and burn brightly and then wink out as he continues. His forearms burn and his fingers bleed. His voice cracks on the high notes. But he powers through. He finishes. His lute falls from his hands and he crashes to his knees. His breathing is a ragged gasp.

He looks up, avoiding the looks on Fearne’s and Orym’s faces. He can’t bear to look at them right now. Dorian only has eyes for Morrigan, who has stepped closer to him as he played. There’s a hunger in her eyes, but she blinks it away as Fearne tugs at her spindly fingers.

“Quite a song,” Morrigan says.

“Y-you…honor me…with your praise,” Dorian pants. His throat is on fire.

The Fatestitcher raises up to her full height. “You are lucky my Fearne loves you both,” she says. “You cannot just take him, Dorian Storm. As I said, there are rules in place.” She runs a finger down her chin. “I will free him from his bargain, but you must return here each month when Catha waxes full. You will play for me, and I will enjoy the attentions of the Master Muse and Son of the Wind. And perhaps, you’ll bring your large friend with you. Doomseed was his name, I believe.”

“Oh, thank you, Nana!” Fearne shouts. She leaps at her grandmother and nearly tackles her to the ground. “Thank you so much!”

Dorian’s arms shake as he tries to push himself up. He winces, finally managing, as familiar boots appear in front of him. Dorian lifts his head and looks into Orym’s eyes. There’s fury there, and incredulity and desperation that Dorian has never seen directed his way before. He flinches under that intensity.

“Did you really think we weren’t going to come?” Dorian asks after he catches his breath. His cheeks flush purple as tears shimmer in the corners of his eyes. “You thought—”

Dorian’s words are cut off as Orym crashes their mouths together. They topple over; Orym straddling Dorian’s chest as he frames the genasi’s face in his hands.

“I love you,” Orym whispers against Dorian’s mouth. “I thought I wouldn’t get to say it, but I love you so much.”

Recovering from his shock, Dorian pulls Orym tight against him. He kisses the confession from the halfling’s mouth, trying to tamp down his anxiety over his lack of experience. They’re both panting when they pull back to stare at each other.

“I do too…as well,” Dorian says, his voice still hoarse. “Love you, I mean.”

Orym laughs, resting his head on Dorian’s chest. “I figured.”

The genasi squeezes him tighter and drops a kiss into Orym’s hair. He can hear the rest of the Bells Hells below. Fearne must have called Imogen. He’s excited to see them, but part of him wants to hide Orym away. He wants his little fighter all to himself for at least a little while.

Orym reads his thoughts. “We’ve got nothing but time now.” He kisses the skin he can reach over Dorian’s collar bone. Dorian nuzzles in closer, uncaring who sees.

#dorym #dorym fic #dorian storm #fearne calloway #orym of the air ashari #critical role #nana morri

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heartfullofleeches · 2 years ago

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Yan Player + Ghoul Reader

A player who showers their new classmate in gifts and praise in hopes of scoring a new lay. A slightly off-putting, but cute wallflower who true to their nature shies away from player's advances. "You don't want me. It'll just cause trouble for the both of us." Playing hard to get - how adorable. Truth be told, that aloof oddball is one of the cutest things they've seen in recent years. Aw, well - more fish in the sea. Player tucks a photo of that classmate in their wallet and tries to move on, but every partner they take on has some trait that reminds them of that person. They do anything to impress them while having the pretty thing they've been going "steady" with on their arm to no reaction everytime. They express genuine concern for their classmate with their fluctuation in weight and physical strength. It's so annoying - just like that knife pointing at their neck.

"You fucking asshole! I've seen how you look at them. You think you can just invite me over to your house and cover up the murals dedicated to them without me finding out? I know I'm not the only one either.... I'm going kill you, and hang you out to bleed - like the fucking pig that you are!"

They always knew this would come back to bite them in the ass, but not like this. Accepting their fate, they shut their eyes as their attacker advances. The wet squelch of tearing flesh rings sickly in their ears - but it's neither their blood spilled or their attacker's blade who dealt the killing blow. They open their eyes to see skin caught between another set of teeth - their partner reaching out to them to grab onto the faux strings of their love to save them from the fangs puncturing their jugular.

"H..elp...."

Snap.

With the last of their strength, they stab upwards. Like an unwanted doll, their body crumbles gracelessly to the floor. Tears rain upon their already soaked cheeks as to the silhouette loaming over falls to their knees; talons clawing at those jagged protrusions sticking out of their gums - a familiar bracelet around their wrist dyed in blood. They yank the knife sticking out of the side of their face like a thorn, the damage inflicted and the wear of starvation sealed under the grace of fresh, human blood.

"No.....nononono. I'm sorry.... I'm sorry... They were going to hurt you, and I'm.....I'm... so hungry. I didn't mean to do it. I had to do it. I'm sorry. Please don't hate me. You're my only friend. I'm sorry!"

Their heart hammers in their chest, threatening to break free and crawl into their throat. You really were....the cutest thing they'd ever seen.

Player follows you everywhere after that. They can't let you slip out of their sights, or you may attempt to transfer schools like you'd done in the past. Nobody understands why such an outgoing and attractive person hovers over someone like you, but expressing their feelings on the matters vocally just results in them gaining some needed target practice and you with another hot meal. Long sleeves have never been their style, but it's better than people spreading the wild accusations that you of all people are hurting them - when they offer their flesh to you willingly and cook it into dishes they force you to eat in public or use the power of their influence on the student body and cry until the glaring eyes, and your hunger, break you. Their friends record you eating raw meat outside of the convenience store you bought it from and they couldn't be more disgusted. That beef was almost purely fat and they had a nice, healthy lean cut for you in their fridge.

Ghoul Reader, covered in blood and missing half their cheek from the force at which they rip out the knife: Sob - hick I'm a monster....

Yan Player: Haha, no baby - you're so sexy

#yandere #yandere imagines #yandere headcanons #yandere x you #yandere scenarios #yandere x reader #yandere insert #yandere oc #yandere blurb #tw yandere #monster reader #yandere playboy

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mydarlingdearestdead · 2 months ago

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"He is a child." Hebe protested, "Father-"

The door swung on silent hinges and Hebe's valiant protest was lost. Ganymede stumbled against the first of the two gilded marble columns either side of the entryway. Silently, he cursed the over-embellished sandals of Zeus' preference.

Ganymede peeled them off with no small amount of resentment. He tossed them in the near rose bushes in a flash of malicious hatred. Then, tears stinging his eyes, stooped to retrieve them.

As any youth might, he forgot the most simple fact of life: Any rose, no matter how flawless on a superficial level, is due a thorn.

Ganymede flinched as the malicious thing ripped into the flesh of his thumb. Instinctively, he drew his thumb to his mouth- A childish notion.

However, a prickling cold took hold of his body as his eye fell upon the flesh he knew not to be his own. The golden ichor gushing from the foreign wound.

In that moment, kneeling in the gardens of Olympus, Ganymede sought only one thing:

The kind release of Hades' hand.

Masterlist

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kissedbyghosts · 2 months ago

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Hope In A Haunted Heart

How is it that anything grows in this ossuary of lost tomorrows? Where the rain is red and the wan light shines so misty and pale?

How is it that I have become such a tangled garden of gods and devils?

They dance within me, singing of love, beauty, and terror, their voices echoing like hope in a haunted heart.

Listen to the discordant harmony of their longing and resignation.

They spin and sway, thorns tearing rip their hems until bloody and bare, they fall into a heap of warm flesh and needy kisses.

They plant within me wild seeds and worlds sprout from my skull.

Gather them, love, into a bouquet and lay them on my grave

There, let them wither with what is forgotten but kiss the stone once that I may remember your lips and rot beneath the bright blush of roses.

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acronym-chaos · 5 months ago

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The Flesh Inspired ID Pack

[PT: The Flesh Inspired ID Pack].

Names

[PT: Names].

Alden, Avarice, Ava, Bane, Barrett, Blair, Calla, Caelan, Carrion, Clot, Contort, Corbin, Craven, Daphne, Darian, Devour, Dredge, Elara, Ellis, Esme, Ethan, Ferox, Fiona, Finn, Garrett, Gideon, Glutton, Gore, Harrow, Hazel, Holden, Hunger, Imogen, Iris, Isaac, Jace, Julian, Lachlan, Lacerate, Lara, Leander, Lilith, Maeve, Malice, Marrow, Maul, Mira, Morbid, Mutilate, Nolan, Nora, Orson, Petra, Phage, Ravage, Reid, Rowan, Rupture, Silas, Simon, Strain, Surge, Thorne, Torment, Trenton, Twinge, Viscera, Wesley, Willow, Wretch, Wyatt, Zara

Pronouns

[PT: Pronouns].

Blo / Blood / Bloods; Bo / Bone / Bones; Car / Carn / Carns [Carnivore]; Cla / Claw / Claws; Crav / Crave / Craves; Dev / Devou / Devours; Dis / Disme / Dismes [Dismember]; Flay / Flay / Flays; Fle / Flesh / Fleshes; Gna / Gnaw / Gnaws; Gri / Grind / Grinds; Mas / Masoch / Masochs [Masochism]; Mor / Mort / Morts [Mortal]; Pul / Pulse / Pulses; Ren / Rend / Rends; Ri / Rip / Rips; Scar / Scar / Scars; Si / Sine / Sinew; Tear / Tear / Tears; Tor / Ture / Tures [Torture]; Visc / Cera / Ceras [Viscera]; Wre / Wreck / Wrecks

Titles

[PT: Titles].

Devourer of All, Maw of Endless Want, Ravager of Flesh, Severer of Limbs, The Ever-Hungry Maw, The Flesh Sculptor, The Grinding Teeth, The Harvester of Sinew, The Hunger Incarnate, The Thirsty Wound, The Twisting Carnivore, The Unholy Butcher, The Unyielding Appetite, [Pronoun] Who Consumes Without End, [Pronoun] Who Devours the Living, [Pronoun] Who Feeds on Pain, [Pronoun] Who Hungers for Blood, [Pronoun] Who Mutilates the Flesh, [Pronoun] Who Rends the Body

[ID: A purple thin line divider shaded at the bottom, end ID]

Requested by anon!

Also tagging: @pronoun-arc @id-pack-archive

#id pack #npts #npt pack #npt #npt list #names pronouns titles #tma #the magnus archives #the flesh #tma the flesh #tma flesh #gore cw #body horror cw

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shellem15 · 5 months ago

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@nickmarini's response to my asks has suddenly and inexplicably broken me out of my writer's block, so here's a snippet of a fic inspired by it. Hopefully I'll be able to finish it lol.

...

He glances towards his brother—who is not there. A look behind him reveals the coward has already fled. Typical.

Pelor looks back towards the Wildmother and raises his hands up in placation. “Sister—”

“Brother. For the sake of our continued sibling-hood—Run.”

Pelor runs.

The screeching howls of wild things follow them as they make their escape. Twisting vines and gnarled roots reach out to trip them as they dash through the dense thicket.

“I see our sister is as cheery as ever!” Asmodeus calls out from ahead. “Did I touch a nerve?”

“That was her anniversary gift from Erathis, you ass!”

“Oh really!? Well, forgive me for not keeping up! I haven’t exactly been invited to any family reunions lately!”

Pelor’s response is cut short by a roar in his ear. He dives out of the way a moment before the largest tiger he’s ever seen rips out his throat. He lands in a nearby thorn-bush, spikes digging into his skin.

His sister can be really mean, sometimes.

Unfortunately, he doesn’t get a moment to breathe. A sharp tug pulls at him, and he knows that Asmodeus has reached the end of their tether. He moves to get up but before he can do so, the tiger pounces. Dagger-like claws tear at his flesh, and the iron stench of blood fills the air.

“Aargh!” Pelor struggles to push the cat off him. It is hundreds of pounds of pure muscle but even in this form, He is the Sun. BOOM. Light explodes out from him, and the beast is thrown back into a tree trunk, landing with a wet thud and a crack of splintering wood.

He pushes himself up, and startles as sudden heat whooshes over his shoulder and rockets down on the tiger, igniting both it and the tree in a blaze of fire.

Pelor looks back at the fiend-that-is-his-brother standing a few paces behind him.

“What?” Asmodeus accuses. “It moved. I’m helping.”

Pelor shakes his head as he brushes past him. “I didn’t say anything.”

Asmodeus bristles, about to object, when another howl sounds from deeper into the jungle and snaps them out of their squabble.

They look at each other.

Pelor smirks, “Go on, help some more.”

Asmodeus rolls his eyes, “I hate you.” He scoffs, but his lips are twitching. Liar.

Pelor’s smirk widens into a grin, and it lights up the forest around them.

The howl sounds again, closer this time, and they break out into a run. They weave though snares of vines and dart out of the jaws of carnivorous plants. Venomous snakes bite at their ankles and birds swoop down at them with sharp beaks and long talons.

At one point, an eagle dive-bombs them and tries to claw out their eyes. Asmodeus throws fire at it and the bird explodes into a squawking ball of flaming plumage.

Pelor blinks. Fire. Squawking. Burnt feathers. “Looks like that phoenix of yours!”

Asmodeus cackles at that comment.

Suddenly, the tree-line breaks. They can see the sky, the clouds, the sunlight shining down upon them. The wide-open air greets them, and they skid to a stop before the precipice of a great cliff.

…

That's it for now! Hope ya'll enjoy reading. I have so much brain rot about these two its not okay.

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hiswordsarekisses · 9 months ago

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“This is what the actual death of Jesus would have looked like if we are to be realistic. His death is not depicted in the movies as to what most likely would have actually happened in the days of Roman Crucifixion. This article is realistically more of what took place that infamous day.

(The physical Death Of Jesus )

“In 1986, The American Medical Association published an article titled "The Physical Death of Jesus Christ". It details the entire process of Jesus' trial to His death on the cross. In Luke 22, before Jesus is arrested, it is written that He was in great distress & sweating blood. Although rare, it is recognized as Hematidrosis, caused by high amounts of stress.

At the time, the crucifixion was considered the worst death for the worst of criminals. But this is not all Jesus faced. He endured whipping so severe that it tore the flesh from His body. He was beaten so horrific that His face was torn & His beard ripped. A crown of thorns, 2-3 inches long cut deeply into His scalp. The leather whip used to flog Him had tiny iron balls & sharp bones. The balls caused internal injuries while the sharp bones ripped open His flesh. His skeletal muscles, veins, & bowels we're exposed, causing major blood loss. Most men do not survive this kind of torture. After Jesus was severely flogged, He was forced to carry His own cross while people mocked & spat on Him.

Crucifixion was a process meant to instill excruciating pain, creating a slow & agonizing death. Nails as long as 8 inches were driven into Jesus' wrists & feet. The Roman soldiers knew the tendon in the wrists would tear & break, forcing Jesus to use His back muscles to support Himself to breathe. Imagine the struggle, the pain, the courage..Jesus endured this reality for 3 hours!

The Gospel of John writes that after Jesus' death, a Roman soldier pierced His side with a spear & blood & water came out. Scientists explain that from hypovolemic shock, the rapid heartrate causes fluid to gather in the sac

(Posted by a friend on Facebook)

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dark-cottage-gore · 1 month ago

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Twirls my hair, tucks it behind my ear before I give you my oc petrichor (I am not sending the art because I cant find it + it isnt mine)

Themes of ; trees, fog, darkness, mist, mushrooms and whatever else !!

They're a forest spirit who lays dormant during winter via covering herself in vine and the ground and hibernating for many years. She keeps the forest alive. :3

Ooo...

Warning for horror(?) below cut!

🌿|🌿|🌿

🌫|👁|🍄

🌲|🌲|🌲

Petrichor stimboard

Requested by: @the-bite-of-87-lol

Themes: Vines, fog, mushrooms, dark forests

Note: The image in the center is what I think she looks like based on vibes. Feel free to ask me to change it! /gen

Song:

#horror #oc #original character #oc stimboard #vine stim #fog stim #mushroom stim #dark forest stim #forest stim #stim gifs #visual stim #stimmy #stimblr #stimboard #stim #the thorns rip and tear at the flesh #a mysterious entity covered in moss watches all

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randomwriteronline · 5 months ago

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A deafening yowl shakes the crowns of the trees.

"He's not allowed here!" a thin voice wails, "He's not welcome here!"

A dozen maddened smiles fall from the branches, limbs clattering and spasming but not attacking yet: they circle the boys menacingly, misshapen feet not touching the ground, ragged coats of leaves rustling with an ugly rhythm to accompany the dance-like tilting of round heads with beady bloodied eyes.

The ground shakes as little feet stomp hard from up above, so hard that the poor tree their secret assailant stands upon creaks in pain.

"It's me!" the farmhand reassures the tantrum thrower, "It's just me!"

"I know it's you!" is the furious response, childish wrath made into waves of sound: "But you've brought him along! The liar! The scent-changer! He's not allowed! He's not allowed in here!"

The grotesque sylvan corpses thrash about and claw at the air - they reach forward, towards the living young men, as if to rip them into ribbons; their large necklaces rattle with their sudden movements, their crazed dance around them picks up the pace.

"What are you talking about?" the farmhand insists, louder than the rattling puppets.

"He's not allowed here!" the shrill voice repeats. Pupils of black fire shake in the dark, the sound of bones trembling turning louder and louder. "He's not welcome here!"

The marionettes howls and shudder in a hellish symphony meant to accompany the enraged words.

Branches break, bend with a crack: a hole in the foliage, in the resplendent green of the Sacred Grove, opens upon wide glowering eyes, lightless in their shimmering yet horribly bright like blood moons behind thin clouds.

"How dare you!" the little figure hidden within the shade wails, tearing bark apart and shaking the roots out of the ground: "How dare you! How dare you come back wearing his scent again! How dare you!"

A funerary horn screams.

Dozens of wooden claws lurch forward.

They ignore all else around them to wrap around armor of silver and hair of gold, seeking to dig into already crimson marks, into an eye that seldom opens, scarlet painted irises as dark and still as their gaping grins while their limbs jerk about mechanically, incoherently, stilted and cruel in their rush to vengeful violence.

Blades of all shapes hurry to break them, tear them apart before their thoughtless bodies can rend flesh into a thousand ribbons: the puppets burst into dry leaves, crumpling to dust before they hit the ground as though burnt.

The horn sounds again, and again, and again, calling too many marionettes all at once - they pile up on one another, crush each other, get smothered under their brethren, and the brass sound echoes still through the storming crowns as mighty branches shiver and colossal roots break apart the dirt, even ground disappearing fast, too fast, sending them all tumbling on one another as the earth opens like a multitude of maws, rows of thorns and poisonous mushrooms blooming in the chasms like a hundred teeth and tongues awaiting only the slip of a foot, snapping and creaking as they reach out to grab the oldest man between the gaps that the younger leave as they stand between him and the forest so suddenly, voraciously hostile.

"Quit that!" the farmhand shouts: "What's gotten into you?"

"HE'S NOT ALLOWED HERE!" the little one shrieks. "HE'S NOT WELCOME HERE!"

"We just need to pass through! He's not going to give you trouble!"

"HE'S NOT ALLOWED HERE!"

The grove closes in on them in a second, and it's pitch black.

Their eyes open to a cloudy sky and ringing ears.

The farmhand sits up between the groaning of his companions, briefly pondering what the fastest way could be now that they have no access to the most direct path is barred from them.

He turns to the oldest of them, looking cross: "Just what the hell have you done?" he asks, "To make a Skull Kid that angry?"

The old man doesn't answer, because he doesn't know.

He does turn deathly pale.

#the legend of zelda #tloz #linked universe #skullkid #skull kid #twilight lu #time lu #random writing #failed recognition on both ends

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thoughtsafterdark · 9 months ago

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Stigmata

The world is quiet. So quiet. The silence deafens, bends backs, breaks minds. It holds its breath, waiting, biding its time. Still and poised yet tense, every pebble and grain of sand prepared to strike. Like a big cat stalking its prey, shoulders rolling so smoothly as it inches closer and closer. Like oil sliding off the skin of the water. Those moments when it crouches and becomes one with the Savanah. When the golden light of the setting sun sets the land aflame and blades of grass blend with raised heckles until they are one and the same.

It waits for you, for your conception and birth. Molecules aligning, cells dividing, flowers blooming. The water of your mother’s womb is surprisingly thin given the precious life it cushions. It is expelled from your lungs like a sacrament, like a fountain that once erupted from a desert rock millennia ago. Strong lungs as befit a firstborn son. Your first cries pierce the air and shatter the stillness into a million shimmering fragments. The diamonds spill across the inky blackness. A burst of colour from the Lord’s brush, arcing across the sky. Another promise, another new beginning. Yet Gods are foolish, lonely creatures. Their promises ring hollow and false to our suffering ears. The whips crack and our skin splits, oozes all the same. Where was God when my brothers withered and died, the cries ripped from their throats going unanswered?

And yet tell me why as I gaze upon you now, I am compelled to fall to my knees? As if every fibre of my being yearns to bow, to yield - as if your voice bursts from somewhere deep in my squirming gut and heart and not your lips?

Tell me why I itch to bury myself in the crook where your thigh meets groin and inhale the musk there as if your scent holds the Eye of the Needle, as if the grooves of your skin map Heaven’s Kingdom. Would you let me cry tears of rapture at your coming and wash your feet with them and my tongue?

I wonder if such a wonton display of devotion would anger you, frighten you. Would you toss me away in disgust, smash my face into the ground? Break my nose against rock and let me feel the warm flood of blood flow backwards down my throat, let me savour the salt and iron as I swallow devoutly. Tell me why I have never felt so alive as when your holy wrath rains down upon me like fire, like the destruction of Sodom.

I watch you now, standing proud against that same setting sun, gazing across the expanse of your new kingdom. Here as it dips low upon the dunes and the sand lashes at us. Its rays frame raven curls and fracture all around you, as if afraid to touch you and be seduced. A halo that revers yet fears you. It hardens your features as if you were hewn from granite Your jaw tightens against the onslaught, sharp enough to fell armies. Your eyes become the harsh ringing of blade against blade. Gone is the boy with the easy smile tugging at the corner of a mouth, crow’s feet wrinkling eyes. In his place is the cold pyre of divine righteousness. The commander of earth and sky, made to wield sound and air itself. I think of the icons of old, the waxy mournful faces of saints and note what a pale imitation they must be, if they had even a third of your weight.

You are a black hole - all-consuming, inescapable, inevitable - and we are all trapped in your orbit, edging ever closer to the Event Horizon that will surely destroy us. But tell me if our path is so doomed why my heart leaps at the prospect of pledging my death to you? What finer gift is there but that of my last breath, freely given?

In your face I see rivers of blood and the thrum of charging men. I hear the chants of our forefathers and the long line of prophets that came before, accumulating across the centuries into the tapestry that is your flesh.

Yet as you lie here beside me, the darkness kept at bay by the stubborn flame of a lone candle, your face serene with sleep and your sweat acrid and sharp in my nose - I see just a man plagued by a crown of thorns. I think of my hands, bathing in the blood of innocents in your name. Your name, a mantra, a hymn that ignites us all with awe and hunger. I wonder if knowing deep down you are just a man makes me more or less the fool.

Then your eyes open, lashes fluttering, and I see the light burning there and I know messiahs are not born but made in the hearth of a home, in the fierceness of a loyal heart and the beating lifeblood of a people starved of hope. I care not if you bleed red or ichor, I know only that I will follow you into hell itself, until we burn to ash and we become whispers, legends. Until we are nothing but dust floating across the dunes, the wind that stokes the flames of a thousand more rebellions.

#creative writing #poetry #religious trauma #religious imagery #love #devotion #stream of consciousness #love poetry

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saccharine-serpent · 2 months ago

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Closed RP W/@blackparaderunner

His head span and he felt nauseous yet again, his breath rasped as the thorns curled and dug deeper ripping beneath scales and gouging into his pale green flesh to draw out the revitalising dark green, practically black blood within his tender veins. He hung upside down like a cruel blood bag made to spill his blood down hate filled vines into a tainted golden chalice below, a drink indulged upon to rekindle even the dying embers of the one true god. He couldn’t remember how long it had been since he had been trapped here, hidden away from all others to be used as a means to never end a cruel cycle, to continue a selfish reign of an unfit god. His serpentine green eyes had long since become cloudy, the dim light more than enough to dwindle his vision, his skin paler due to lack of sunlight and his body ravaged from thorny vines that bound him, suspending him in air, leaving him covered in scars fresh and old with age. A sound had him wheezing, bloody tears spilling down his face as his fingers twitched and trembled in the tangles of suffering, he braved to be torn into and bled freely, harvested and sapped like nothing more than a tree to harvest its life-giving dew.

#// eternal spring //#// blackparaderunner #full of venom // ic #// start

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the-s1lly-corner · 2 months ago

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Flufftober prompt 18: Protecting (Kallamar)

you can find the list here prompt: Kallamar saves you while you're out together on a mission to get supplies notes: reader is gn, post game where youre both in the cult, reader is any creature, the first chunk of this fic has you getting your shit rocked through kallamar comes in clutch dwdw word count: 1511 cws: injury and blood as well as violence and death but nothing you wouldnt really find in the source

Footsteps thundered against the walls of the dungeons you rushed through. Your sides screamed at you to stop running, but the glance you tossed over your shoulder kept your body in movement as heretics began to close in on you. Three of them, and only one of you. You gripped the dagger in your hand, knuckles turned white as you tried to devise a plan.

You'd been separated from your travel buddy, Kallamar, and he was nowhere in sight. Your eyes ached in their sockets as you kept pushing your body to keep moving forward. Vines and plant matter covered the walls, masking any landmarks you could have used to backtrack your way out of Darkwood. Maybe if you could double back and rush by your pursuers-

A hot searing pain rips itself through your shoulder as the blade of a heretic tears through your clothing and makes itself home in your flesh. You bite back a scream as you clutch your dagger, whipping around and shoving your own blade into whatever unwilling flesh it would sink into. Twisting and pulling with all your strength, you shove the heretic away and try to make a break for it. Eyes wildly darting for the end of the hall you had just run through, trying to find an opening between the remaining two figures in front of you. There was a small gap between one and the wall, if you could...

You stagger, the pain in your shoulder making itself known through your desperation. Your grip tightens on your dagger, now dripping blood.

With feet stumbling, breaking into an uneven run you attempt to tear yourself by your attackers. They'd seem to miss your glance to the gap. They seemed to stiffen as you broke out into your sprint. You could make this, if you could just keep moving-

You feel your feet get ripped off of the ground as you're scooped up by one of the heretics, before you're slammed against the cool damp wall of Darkwood. Thorns press into your skin through your clothing, not that you cared all that much as your weapon was ripped from your hand and thrown into the darkness. Legs failed you as they flailed in the air, only to do no damage to your captor. Their hand clenched tightly around your throat, seeming to disregard their own weapon as they held you tighter.

Your vision blurs and darkens around the edges, before closing in. You could feel your heart in your throat and behind your eyes, screaming for release. Your mind raced as you tried to think of something to free yourself. Instead, you were given flashes of your own life leading up to this moment.

You being taken into the cult, you being given work, meeting your friends... You dully wondered if Kallamar would find your body and bring you home so you could at least have a funeral. You wondered if he was even still alive. A weak sob manages to break your gasping, if only for a moment.

Just as quickly as the pressure was applied to your throat, it was relieved. Your body sunk to the ground, slumping into the cold floor. You could hear the sounds of struggles, after a near animalistic scream. Opening your eyes proved useless, and your hearing... although recovering, was still ringing in your head. But you could feel through your surroundings that something was happening. It didn't last long, whatever it was... perhaps a minute... maybe five. It was hard to tell, but by the time the chaos calmed itself you were able to open your eyes again.

You weren't given the chance to see the carnage around you, before a pair of cool hands pressed themselves to your hot face. Your vision was fully obscured by Kallamar, his dark eyes looking right into yours. His face was contorted into one of fear and worry, as he ran his hands over your cheeks before checking the rest of your head, then passing down to your neck and shoulders... You heard his breathing hitch when he found your stab wound. The pain had turned into a dull throb as you tried to will your body to move.

Slick hands lightly traced the red blotch left on your neck, hot skin against cold giving some level of comfort as the pain started to roll in waves. Swallowing nothing, you leaned your head to the side. Both of the heretics were left killed, tossed onto the ground by the one you had fought off.

"Don't look at them," Kallamar hissed lowly as he brought a hand back to your cheek and pulled your head back straight. His brows furrowed together, no doubt in thought as he tried to plan your next moves. The remains of his ears twitched, before relaxing. He brings his eyes back to meet yours, now appearing tired and guilty. He takes the hand that was on your neck away as well as the one on your face. He pushed himself up off of the floor, towering above you. Even in his smaller mortal body, he was still much taller than most. You couldn't bring yourself to crane your neck back to look him in the face.

"Where..." You began in a croak as your fingers spread and tried to scramble against the stone behind you. You had no luck pushing yourself to your feet, if anything you only began to lean forward. How long had you been running before you were caught?

From the upper field of your vision you caught Kallamar scrunching his face up before smoothing his features. "I was chased off by those... savages..." His voice dripped venom, his hands busying themselves with the fabric of his robes. Then his fingers released themselves. For the second time tonight he crouched towards the ground, and he picked you up. A second pair of arms made themselves known, taking hold of his weapons as the original set secured you against his chest.

Now that your head was against his chest, you could feel his heartbeat. It was just as wild as yours was when you were slammed against the wall. A palm presses itself against where his heart lay, as if willing it to steady itself. He glances down at you, hands holding you closer. He took a step towards the end of the hall, through the end you had entered from during your chase.

"The end of Darkwood is the other way," You muttered as your fingers curled into the fabric of his robes. Bright red, as was the norm for those who follow the red crown. You vaguely wondered if Kallamar detested wearing such a color.

You felt his response in his chest before it left his mouth. You caught sight of his ears straining, trying to hear you with what little function they had left. "We have all that the lamb has asked of us..." He sounded firm, with more certainty that he usually carries in his tones. "It would be a waste if we died and lost it all," He added after a moment. His eyes softened as they glanced down at you, locked onto the blood drying in flakes around your exposed skin. Your robes had gone stiff where it dried, shifting uncomfortably against your flesh... further irritating your wound. "I..." He began before pulling his eyes away. His heart still pounded against your palm, albeit it had calmed over the last few minutes.

His eyes seemed to hold guilt.

You loosened your grip on the fabric, and let your hand fall to join the other.

Kallamar insisted he keep carrying you in his arms long after your strength began to return. Insisting that carrying you didn't hinder him all that much... and that you were already both nearly out of Darkwood anyway. You could have sworn you heard him mumble something about not wanting to lose anything valuable.

Asides from that, the rest of the way to the flock was mostly spent in silence. You left to mentally prepare for the pain that will inevitably get worse before it gets better... and he, seemingly stuck in his own thoughts as his face contorted into one of stress and exhaustion.

You continued to stare up at him. His flesh seemed to glow in the dim lighting, spots of color seemed to dance in the light. You watched his gills subconsciously flex on his neck as he worked through whatever he was thinking about. His heartbeat had finally calmed itself, the steady beat luring you to sleep as your ear pressed against him.

As your body began to succumb to sleep, you took one last glance and looked up at the former bishop carrying you. He wasn't looking at you, but his body that was once kept tense relaxed with yours. A soft smile crept itself to your face as your thoughts blurred into nothingness. The last thing you felt was one of Kallamar's spare hands rub a soothing circle into the side of your head.

#cotl x reader #cotl x you #cotl imagine #cult of the lamb x reader #cult of the lamb x you #cult of the lamb imagine #kallamar x reader #kallamar x you #kallamar imagine #cotl kallamar x reader #cotl kallamar x you #cotl kallamar imagine #canon x reader #canon x you #x reader

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