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norbezjones · 12 days ago

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Bez Reviews Independent Books 7 (+ Bring Your Own Book Club): Dead Pulsating Tree

Hey everyone! I wanna do little reviews/writeups for the independently-published books I find on itch.io, and so, here I am. I want to review one book every month or two (or quicker, if I’m lucky); it’ll get me reading more, and get authors who often go without feedback some thoughts on their work! I think it’ll be cool for everyone!

If you want your book reviewed, the only requirement I have is that it’s hosted on itch.io. Even if itch is just one of many places you can get the book, I want to review books that have a home there at least. Feel free to get in touch with me with your books—I’m @NorbezJones on Twitter (I refuse to call it X), Bluesky, Pillowfort, Threads, Instagram, Tumblr, and Discord.

Looking forward to seeing your books! <3

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CozyStars (he/her) is a creator who has worked on several of my games, mainly the To Train A Killerseries. When I found his itch.io page, I saw he had a short story collection called Dead Pulsating Tree. It intrigued me, and I asked if I could review it for this series. She said yes, and provided me with a review copy.

I also want to write this to fulfill this month’s Bring Your Own Book Club challenge, which was to read a book published in 2024.

Dead Pulsating Tree consists of six short stories that were originally written as English class assignments. Here’s what the intro of Dead Pulsating Tree says about the works:

“Each story you see here was something I thought up for an assignment. Each was created because I was an outsider in my classroom in different ways. Horror became a way to explore why I felt strange. Each idea, each page filled, is my sense of self. My self is shattered into mirror pieces, with all the cracks forming root-like appendages that ground me to the earth. When looking at this mess, you see a tree if you tilt your head the right way. It's still breathing after everything it has been through.”

I think that’s a very admirable thing, honestly. I know plenty of my stories are full of my sense of self as well, stories about my survival, about being “other”. This collection has a similar vibe.

The stories are mainly about the wonders & horrors of the alien unknown. From a dimension-jumping creature, to an eldritch husband, to a fantasy leviathan, this collection shows us what might lie beyond the stars—or just beyond our sight.

Some of the stories experiment with the format in some way: for example, “Drifter” is written as a redacted government interview with an alien entity, and “Subject: Part @ Main Bay” introduces the story with an email and an “info bank” of staff members (our main cast). Similarly, “Sink Our Ship, Sign Off” is interspersed with emails from the “boss”, and it becomes one of the ways the machine the main character works for communicates. Other stories are told more straightforwardly, like “A Maiden and the Leviathan”, which is written like a traditional fairytale, even starting with the words, “Once upon a time.”

All of the stories contain strong sentences, usually interspersed with figurative language (mainly lots of metaphors). The text is written with clear intent—no words are wasted. My favorite sentence was in “Subject: Part @ Main Bay” when, as Alex becomes a bloodthirsty cannibal, it is noted that, “Hands that were once dedicated to healing were perverted. Gluttonous. Those very hands made human blood into broth and intestines into noodles. The abdomen was nothing but a bowl to him.”

Not all of the tales are so grim. Some of the stories contain great hope about the alien unknown, like “Loving a Heavenly Body”, which showcases the romance between Luis, a human, and Sho’Goth, an eldritch entity. This is showcased very clearly throughout the story, most admirably in this sentence: “For Luis, he knows he wants to spend the rest of his life with this person. Right here, right now, he wants to make that known. You can see it in his eyes, his russet skin was covered in goosebumps. Just waiting to pull out the question.”

If I had some points of critique, it would be that the use of periods vs commas in dialogue is improper at times. This is mainly displayed in the second story, in lines such as, “’You’d be surprised. This job makes people antsy,’ Any comedic timing flew over his head, it seems.” & “Reggie shakes her head, ‘Nah, you’re gonna have to go the commons for it.’” It happens quite a lot.

I’m also confused by the last story, “Helix Malfunction”. I’ve read it several times, but I still don’t feel like I fully understand it. The content warnings helped illuminate a few things for me, but not everything. It’s told in a bit of an oblique way, which is a risky approach that can alienate the reader, and unfortunately, it did alienate me.

To conclude, here are my answers to the “Bring Your Own Book Club” questions for the book:

1. What prevented you from reading this one in 2024?

I actually did start it in 2024, but I didn’t finish it until January of 2025 due to time.

2. What is the relation of this book with "2024"?

This definitely feels like a 2024 book. That was a hard year, especially with the election, and the stories explore what being “other” is like, and what it means to live within broken systems.

3. Something from the book to take with you into 2025? Sometimes you have to submit to the alien organism that’s turning you into a cannibal. Also otherness is both an innate thing within us, and a state that is thrust upon us by society.

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hollyrogerbay · 2 years ago

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you do not understand. how my brain rots over this thing. you have to dig DEEP in the files and manipulate the code of the game (much moreso than just editing a .txt save file mind you) to see ANYTHING related to it. everything SURROUNDING it is labeled as being redacted. all it "says" upon interaction is "[redacted]", in LOWERCASE WINGDINGS. reminder that while gaster is the only one to speak in wingdings, REDACTED is the only instance of them EVER being lowercase. it fades in and out based on proximity. "Premonition" plays. exiting this room, through the bottom, this empty room with a single sprite in the center of it, takes you to the SOUND TEST. where there NOTHING is of much note other than Gaster's Theme. there's redacted code for it showing up horror game style IN AN UNUSED HORSE STABLE. the sprite resembles a person with long hair draping over their face and body. the protrusion on the top could resemble a single horn. ive seen fanart of this thing being a KNIGHT CHESS PIECE FROM AN ANGLE. (courtesy of the Awesome and Cool @geistdomdude. go check out their art it is Superb)

the room itself has a fucking "water_" prefix. DO YOU KNOW HOW INSANELY RELEVANT THAT IS TO DELTARUNE LORE. WATER.

i hold undertale very near to my heart and it has been a major part of my life for a very, very long time.

to find out about that horse stable scene? after thinking i knew EVERYTHING in that regard about this game?

it scared the FUCK out of me. it's FREAKY

that is the only thing in this game that has ever SCARED me. it STILL creeps me out. as im fucking WRITING THIS

gripping you by the neck and shaking you around. DO YOU FUCKING UNDERSTAND. you can not shrug [redacted] off as a strange test room or something EVERYTHING ABOUT IT IS SO FUCJING DELIBERATE AND INTENTIONAL IT FUCKS ME UP

youtube

(now go watch this shit. i don't like share every single thought in this but it's how i found out about all this)

this is genuinely one of my favorite undertale/deltarune characters and it's barely even a character. one of my favorite fucking Concepts. where my spr_redacted_a fans at!!!!!!!

#AAUAUUHGHHG #undertale #utdr #redacted undertale #undertale redacted #deltarune #gaster #dess holiday #(it resembles dess potentially)#Youtube

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cayofdreams · 4 years ago

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A Succubus’ Dilemma

Summary: Succubus!Reader is struggling with her identity as she gets closer to Kirishima. She wants to continue being the diligent, strong-willed hero that he praises her for being but the presence of Eijirou Kirishima is making that unbearably difficult. She just can't pretend to be quirkless anymore…

Words: 4.5k

Rating: 🌊 Explicit, Smut

Warnings: cursing, virginity (but there’s no explicit mention of it), oral (receiving), aphrodisiac, heavy overstimulation, a bit of corruption, kinda dark ending?

Notes: ~Welcome to another steamy piece from your favorite island resort~

This one is pretty straight-forward. I feel like I kicked up the smut on this one. Also, I based the ending off one of the endings of one of my favorite yaoi visual novels :-)

You were lying down on Kirishima’s bed, deeply engrossed in the romantic scene transpiring on your phone’s screen. You had decided to entertain yourself with an episode from your favorite show while your best friend was in the shower.

‘I love you, Jake. But…I just want to wait before we get intimate. I’m just not ready, right now’

‘Of course, Kathrine! I’ll wait however long it takes! You’re so much more to me than a warm body!’

‘You say that…but what if I choose to stay celibate forever?’

‘Then you can live with the confidence that I, Jake Petersmith, have wholeheartedly loved you for the wonderful human that you are!

‘Oh, Jake!

‘Kathrine!’

You were tearing up at the cheesy displays of affection since you were a sucker for all things romantic. You loved how characters seemed to have an undying love for one another. Often, you fantasized about sharing that kind of ethereal love with someone yourself. How it would be to run together through a field of sunflowers, or skip hand-in-hand on the sandy surfaces of the beach, or even make couple pranksters YouTube videos that were so obviously not faked.

But that kind of future won’t happen for you. It can’t. Not in the gross body you were in. Surely you were easy on the eyes, but what lurked inside was a demon that constantly bewitched your thoughts. Making you see people around you as simply meat sticks and sticky caverns to be engorged in.

Simply put, you were a succubus. Or at least had a succubus-like quirk. You never told anyone though, only being known to your parents. You tried so hard to reign in these feelings on a daily basis while pretending to be quirkless. But it was becoming increasingly difficult as you got older and as you hung around the likes of…Kirishima.

Oh Kirishima. He was such a beautiful human on the inside and out. Always praising and encouraging you. Being there for you when it seemed you were at your worst low points, and then being there to pick you up and trophy you around when you succeeded at doing even just the bare minimum. You wished you could return even half the happiness to him that he gave you throughout your days at U.A. You wanted to do all the romantic things you saw in movies and books with him. Kirishima was just such a sunshine in your life and you wanted him to continue warming you for the rest of it.

There was a time where 90% of your thoughts toward him were like this…and then as time went on, they became more savagely. Where all you wanted was for him to sink those sharp teeth in your flesh, ravaging your body with a cock that could probably barely even fit inside you, holding you within those arms- those beautifully muscular arms that glistened provocatively with sweat when he trained. You wanted him. Needed him. Please desire me, Eijirou.

You were about to slip your hands down your underwear when you heard the creak of the door open.

“L/N!! Did you miss me?! I’m back!” Kirishima bursted through the door with that wide grin you loved so much.

Of course, I freaking missed you, Eijirou. You were only gone for 11 minutes, 35 seconds, and 23 milliseconds. But I missed every moment.

You covered up your lust with a chuckle. “You weren’t even gone that long.”

“Aww don’t say that!! I missed you, you know.” He teased at you.

Don’t tempt me, baby

“Haha, whatever, Kiri…” You sat up as Kirishima slumped down on the floor next to his coffee table and pulled out his laptop. “So what are we watching, tonight?”

“Hmm…not sure! What do you wanna watch, L/N?” He turned his head to smile back at you. He was so cute. So gorgeous. And your erotic thoughts seemed to be running rampant right now. Especially at the fact that the two of you would be huddled up alone together for who knows however long a movie marathon is. You had to find a way to quickly rid yourself of these thoughts.

“Mmm, let me look up some! Hold on.” A blatant lie. You were going to google get-dry-quick schemes so you could enjoy the rest of the night safely with Kirishima. It was the least he deserved after training so hard today.

HOW TO NOT BE HORNY??!!1!

You analyzed your search results before clicking on a forum where someone seemed to be going through the same dilemma as you.

‘Hello, my name is [redacted] and I’m horny all the time ☹. I’ve lost so many boyfriends because of it and I truly want to find a husband, but it would be silly of me to expect them to drop everything to please me. How can I stop these feelings?’

Someone just like you! You weren’t alone in this cruel abyss. Perhaps she also had a succubus quirk!

Looking through the answers wasn’t much help for the most part. Most of the replies being trolls who asked where she was so they could “help” her. Even worse were the ones that chastised her for her feelings. Saying she was impure and needed to change her ways.

But your eyes were intrigued at the first comment that seemed to provide some kind of helpful information.

‘You might be a nymphomaniac. Have you tried talking with a professional?’

A nym- what? What was that? You opened another tab.

What is a nympomiac?

Too concerned with research to get the correct spelling, you saw articles for definitions of the auto-corrected word.

Nym∙pho∙ma∙ni∙ac

Noun: a woman with uncontrollable or excessive sexual desire

Gasping at the accuracy you divulged further.

How to not be a nymphomiakc?

A lot of the results for this returned with solutions that were too time-consuming. Prescribed medication, cognitive therapy, and even some evil medieval treatments that involved leeches.

But you needed something now. Why were all these long-winded answers so abundant?! Couldn’t they just give you something to do now? What the fuck would you have to do?? Shove an iceblock your pussy?? Should you go ask Todoroki for a favor??

You were in the middle of texting Todoroki when Kirishima pulled you out of your frenzy.

“You find anything, L/N?”

“Gyahh! What?!” You dropped your phone and looked at Kirishima like you were a deer caught in his headlights.

“Woah, you okay there?! Did I scare you? Maybe horror isn’t a good idea, then.” His worried face could send you to the grave. How could you let him worry about you like this?

“Ohh..no Kiri. I’m fine. We can just watch whatever you want.” You eased your breaths, desperately trying to sound normal.

“You sure?! Awesome! There’s this zombie flick I’ve been meaning to watch but I get kinda scared watching stuff like that alone.” He clicked around happily through some tabs on his browser. “I think if its with someone as courageous as you, I’ll be less scared.”

Was he trying to make you cry? Saying something so beautiful like that with a face like his. Shame on him, honestly.

“I’m gonna play it now, you ready?”

“Mmhm”

--------------------------------------------------

The movie so far was just as you hoped: grotesque, gory, horrifying, and most importantly, non-arousing. It helped that you stayed on the bed while Kirishima sat on the floor, so I guess that was cheating, but nonetheless necessary.

“You doin’ okay up there, L/N?” Kirishima checked up on you. You had probably been suspiciously quiet due to concentrating on waving away any little lewd thoughts.

“Oh yeah, what about you, Kiri?”

“W-Well! I was kinda thinking! That maybe uhh…I could possibly join you up there?” He scratched his head in nervousness at his slighty flirty suggestion.

Oh no

“Up where?”

“On the bed. Y-you know…with you?”

At this point you didn’t really know whether to praise or curse the gods above you. If there was one thing you could be sure to thank them for, it was the dark room that hid the flustering of your facial expression.

“I-Its your bed after all…”

“I know! I guess its just- heheh..nevermind! I’m hopping up!” Kirishima rugged his massive body on the bed next to you. Even taking some of the blanket you had so you’d be forced to share with him, he just softly smiled as he did so.

This was way too much for the hellion within you to handle. You could smell his strong scent from beside you. His breathing more pronounced in your ear drums. And its like you could feel his heartbeat within you. Pulsating inside you…

Things would take a turn for the worse when it seemed like a sweet romantic scene was about to show up. The two main leads were alone in a bunker and one of them had just revealed they were bitten.

“Samuel, Nooo!”

“Lilia! Listen to me! I need you to hear what I have to say.”

“We don’t have time, Samuel! We- We need to get you medicine. We have to! We have-“

“Stop, Lilia! There’s nothing that can save me now! You and I both know what happens from here.”

“Samuel…”

“Lilia… I want you to be the one who does it.”

“I can’t…Samuel..I can’t”

“You have to, Lilia. You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved.”

“Don’t do this, Sam…”

“I love you, Lilia.”

“Oh Samuel! I’ll never be with anyone else! Ever!”

“Lilia…”

The words lingered in your head as the movie continued on.

‘I’ll never be with anyone else’

Was such an option available to you? Even if you did take away the innocence of your love, Kirishima Eijirou, who’s to know how your body would react? The best result would be that your body would finally be satisfied and you’d no longer have these perverse thoughts.

On the other hand, maybe you’d just sink further and further down. Drowning in the suffocating waters of lust. And then what? Kirishima can’t just drop everything to cater to your needs. No. He was going to be hero. An amazing one at that.

But Kirishima wasn’t just a hero, he was your best friend. You felt awful every time he would praise your strong-willed persona. Saying how amazing you were despite being quirkless. He’d even say you were more manly than him at times. It was like you were betraying him. You were betraying that innocent smile he wore for you everyday…you couldn’t hold it anymore.

“Kirishima.”

He looked back at you, surprised at your rare use of his name. Sensing something was wrong he paused the movie and turned his entire body to face yours.

“L/N, what’s wrong”

You were doing it again. Making him worry over you. But you couldn’t keep holding in this secret. You needed to tell him.

“I have to ask you something…”

“Please ask! I’m listening with all ears, L/N” He perked up at you. He looked just like a puppy, waiting for your every move like that.

“What do you think about…impulsive people?”

“Huh? Impulsive people?” He scratched his head at the question. “Well…I guess they’re entertaining to watch? Kind of like Bakugou. But I suppose being too impulsive is bad. You could get yourself or others in danger.”

Your head lowered at his statement, eyes closing shut. Of course he would say something like that. It’s only natural for humans to be mindful of their indulgences. They had to. It’s a part of social conformity after all.

Yet still, it hurt.

He noticed your displeasure in his answer.

“What’s wrong, L/N? Why did you ask that? You’re not impulsive at all!” He was trying to cheer you up, but it only dug the knife further into your chest. “You’re one of the most dignified, tough, and resilient people I know!”

Tears were starting to form in your eyes and before you could object him he continued.

“A-and that’s why…That’s why I love you, F/N. I want you to be my girlfriend.”

As much as you wanted to pull him close to you and pamper him with kisses, you needed to come clean. You shot up from the bed, your back faced towards him and your handing closing into a clenched fist.

“That can’t happen, Kirishima! It won’t work!”

Kirishima followed you by jumping up from the bed, grabbing you by the arms to get you to face him. “Why, F/N?! Why can’t it happen? Is there something wrong with me?! Please just tell me!”

“Nooo…nooo there’s nothing wrong with you, Kiri..” The waterworks flowed from your eyes and violent sobs escaped from you. You slumped down on your knees in sorrow. Kirishima joined you on the floor and tried to pull you into him, but you’d jerk your body away. “You know nothing about me, Kirishima…I’ve- I’ve lied to you.”

“What do you mean, F/N? What did you lie about? I’m sure its not that bad!”

“I’m not quirkless, Kiri…” A couple more sobs came out of you. “I-I’m a demon…a succubus. A filthy succubus! Just a filthy disgusting succubus!!”

Not being able to stand your self-hatred, he grabbed you by the jaw to force you to look at him. His blazingly crimson eyes met your beautifully wet e/c ones. “Stop that, F/N! You’re not disgusting! Or filthy! You could never be those things!”.

You gripped his wrist and pulled it harshly away from you. “What would you know?! You don’t know the things I deal with inside this wicked head of mine! I encompass the most obscene thoughts about people! About you! Every morning I think about how I’m going to seduce you and get you to desire me just as much as I do! Every training session I look at that beautifully sculpted body of yours and I mentally defile it! Thinking of you as nothing more than a walking, breathing dildo! I see you when you’re smiling with your friends and all I want to do is just steal you away make you mine forever! And every night, I cry at the lack of pleasure I’m getting. The lack of warmth that I only want YOU to give to me. The lack of feeling your hot, meaty cock inside me! It drives me insane, Eijirou! I hate having these thoughts! I hate them! I hate them! I ha-hmmph!”

Kirishima had suddenly kissed you, and you had returned it by ravaging your tongue around his. You didn’t care about the cuts you might receive from his teeth grazing against your delicate flesh. You could only be swallowed by the pleasures overtaking your mouth. You drowned in each other, but only briefly before you had placed your hands on his chest and pushed him away from you.

“What are you doing?! Didn’t you just hear what I said?” You struggled to catch your breath as you wiped away the remnants of his saliva from your face.

“Why didn’t you tell me this, F/N? Did you…did you not trust me? Did you not think of me as manly enough to handle this?” His hands gripped tightly at your shoulders, craving a reply from you.

“You know that’s not true, Kiri. You’re the best person to ever come into my life, and that’s why I had to withhold this secret from you. I didn’t want you to abandon me.”

“I could never aban-“

“But I also didn’t want you to get wrapped up in me. I want you to continue your goals of becoming a hero, Eijirou. Who knows what sanity you’ll be sacrificing by being with me. It’s not a chance I’m willing to take.”

“That isn’t your call to make.” Kirishima’s uncharacteristically cold reply created an atmosphere that overwhelmed you.

“What do you mean? Hiding my quirk was the best decision.”

“Did you really think about me?” Kirishima’s hands glided from your shoulders to your upper arms, still holding a tight grip. “Did you think about how I’d feel if I knew you were holding yourself back like that? What if you’re killing yourself and you don’t know it? I’m supposed to be a hero, F/N. Your hero.”

Before you could reply he had stood up and lifted you back on the bed. He layed you down and positioned himself between your legs, squeezing at your thighs. They were so soft, so delicate. All of you was soft and delicate. And nothing you had told him tonight would change the way he felt about you. There was nothing you could say or do to change his feelings for you. Nothing.

You tried to pry his hands away from the meat of your thighs, but you were admittedly weak from his confession and the thick, encompassing atmosphere that was Kirishima’s presence around you. “Kiri-“

“Eijirou. Call me Eijiirou.”

“…Eijirou. We can’t do this. It’s dangerous…”

“It’s dangerous if I do, its dangerous if you don’t. But I’m telling you right now, F/N, I’m not letting you continue to do this to yourself. Knowing that you’re hurting like this and not being able to do anything? Not doing anything to help the one I love? What kind of hero would I be?...What kind of man would I be?”

Kirishima then leaned down to capture your lips in another kiss. You tried to move your head away but he took one of his hands against your jaw to hold you in place. It felt so good. So fucking good. His lips, his tongue, his rough hands. You teared up just at the pleasure of it all.

He then took his other hand to lift up your shirt, revealing your bra that contained the softest bust that any man could ever lay his hand upon. And right now that man was him. And he’d make sure it’d always be him.

Letting go of your lips, he roughly caressed your breasts before completely pulling your shirt over your head. Faint thoughts of resistance would slip away as you lost yourself in the pleasure you’d been craving for so long.

Struggling to get your bra off, Kirishima impatiently ripped it himself, using a bit of his quirk in the process.

“Eiji…”

“Sshh, baby. I’m gonna take care of you so well.” He slipped off your shorts along with your underwear and threw them unmindfully on the floor. Gripping the flesh below your inner knee, he spread your legs wide enough to slightly sting.

Your pussy was overflowing with juices for him and he barely even touched you yet. He took a moment to relish in the view, taking in deep breaths to smell your intoxicating aroma. He was inexperienced at sex but he knew this erotic perfume you were exuding could only have been the work of your succubus traits. He leaned down to give an experimental lick, his tongue curling to make sure he could gather as much of your juices as he could. He let your flavor sit in his mouth as if trying to enjoy the last sip of water on a mission in the desert.

His lewd behaviors made an unbearable heat rise to your face and you cowered behind your hands. Irritated, Kirishima jerked your hands away and looked at you as if you just insulted his entire lineage.

“Don’t you dare cover up that beautiful face of yours.” He leaned his head back down, this time capturing all the folds of your pussy in his mouth. “I want to see every expression you make. Hear every seductive sound that leaves that your throat.” The vibrations of his voice on your pussy drove you crazy. The rapid moving of his tongue against your clit was immediately sending you to a heavenly dimension.

“Ohh Eiji…Eiji I’m gonna cum…”

“Cum for me, baby. I want it.”

Your orgasm was so intense you could’ve passed out, but you couldn’t. Not with Eijirou still licking all over your clit like that.

“Oh my god, Eiji! Eijiii” Your hands gripped at his spiky hair, tugging tightly trying to get him to have mercy on your sensitive bud. “F-ffuckk! I can’t, Eiji, I can’t!”

Still not letting up, he continued to overstimulate you with his relentless tongue. “I’m sorry, F/N.” He slurped up your juices before working his tongue again. “You taste so fucking good. Like the freshest fruit from a garden.” He rotated between drinking up your fluids and licking vigorously at your clit. “I can’t stop, baby. I need more. Just cum again, okay?”

And cum, you would. A second orgasm was on the horizon and the overstimulation of it was making you shed tears. “Eiji…I’m gonna cum again. Oh my fucking god, I’m gonna cum againnn- Hnngh!!“. Intense waves of pleasure rode over you. However, Kirishima was still lapping up at your folds. “Eijirouuuu!!!”. Your moans became more high-pitched and erratic as you were overstimulated now for the second time.

“Just one more time, baby. I promise”. “I swear I just-“ Slurp. “Never tasted-“ Slurrp. “Anything so fucking good before.”

You were left with no choice but to cave into your third orgasm and Kirishima seemed to show no mercy for you. “Fucckkk.” You sniffled through your sobs as your next high came quicker than the previous ones. Finally Kirishima had lifted his head from between your lips. He had the most animalistic and erotic face you could have ever dreamed of seeing.

“Damn, that was so good. You did so well for me, baby.” Kirishima gleamed with the shine that was your juices. He leaned down to entwine his tongue with yours. You could taste yourself on him and it made you delirious. You had just cum three times, but you wanted more. You needed more.

Kirishima felt the same way as you as he backed up to give himself space to take his shorts off. Cock now springing free, you could see the beast of a rod he had and it made your mouth water. You whined at just the thought of the pleasure you were about to become entranced by. He lined himself up at your sopping entrance, but before he could slip in, you lightly pressed on his chest to get his attention.

“Are you sure, Eijirou? You can stop right now if want. I won’t be mad at you at all. You’ve already done so much for me, tonight.”

His cheeks faded into a deep pink as he moved your hands to be at his shoulders.

“I want you, F/N”. He stuck the tip of his cock in you, grunting at the tightness of your entrance. “I fucking want you.”

You let out a guttural moan as he slowly stretched your pussy to fit his cock. You finally felt it. The warmth you’d been craving deep inside. The stingingly sweet pain of his cock stretching out your drenched pussy. You could die right now. Right here in the arms of the man you loved. And your ghost would be perfectly okay with it. But your flesh craved even more. You needed him to reach the deepest parts of you. You needed him to destroy your greedy pussy.

“Fuck me, Eijirou. I want you to fuck me like the greedy slut that I am!” You looked directly into his dazed eyes, whining at him to give you what you wanted. “Please, I want you so bad. Mark this pussy with that cock of yours. Make me unable to think about anyone else like this. C’mon, give it to me! ”

Too aroused by your begging, he silently obliged. Sinking the entirety of his cock inside you, he twitched at your pulsating walls. It was like your pussy was a breathing organ, sucking him in and tightening around him so he could never leave. And he wasn’t going to. He’d stay like this forever with you.

Not giving you time to get used to his size, Kirishima started thrusting brutally against your hips. You let out the sweetest moans as you littered his back with scratches. His thrusts becoming smoother and smoother as your pussy got used to him. His cock ferociously grazed against your g-spot as the tip teasingly nibbed at your cervix. The perfect mix of pleasure and pain, you felt your now fourth orgasm approaching. You let go of his shoulders to lay your head back deep in the cushions of his pillows.

“Eijirou, you’re gonna make me cum again! You’re gonna make me cum all over your cock-!”

“Oh fuck- me too, F/N”. The rhythm of his thrusts became more faltered as your walls inhumanely squeezed the life out of him. He looked at your cock-drunk face, pleased with his performance. “Where do you want it, baby?”

You raised your head to reestablish eye contact with him. “I want it inside! Cum inside me! I need your cum so bad, need to feel it in my-Hmmnghh!!” Your orgasm overtook your speaking as you groaned hysterically.

Kirishima not far behind you, quickened his pace to chase his own high. “Shit, F/N! I’m gonna cum inside you! Fucking take all of it, baby! Don’t let any seep out, okay?”

You moaned at the hotness of his seed spurting inside. It was so deep inside you and you wondered if it was either easier or more difficult to get pregnant as a succubus. Either way you wanted more and your walls clenched once again against Kirishima’s cock.

He grunted before leaning down to bury his face in your neck, once again starting to thrust inside you. He was overstimulated but your pussy was driving him crazy. Perhaps your juices were an aphrodisiac, making anyone a slave to the area between your thighs. He kissed along your jaw and brought his hand up against your throat. He didn’t squeeze tight, just enough to get your attention.

He rose his head up to get a good look at your face. You looked liked a corrupted angel beneath him. He couldn’t believe you withholded him from these pleasures for so long. Were you just gonna go fuck other guys? You were going to let other men taste what has been his all along? He needed to hear you say you belonged to him. He’d give up anything to hear your sweet voice tell him everything from your insides and out belonged to him.

“Tell me who you belong to, baby?”

You replied with no hesitation, willing to say and do anything to milk more of his cum inside you.

“You, Eijirou! I belong to you! My flesh, my womb, my guts! Everything belongs to you Eijirou!” You felt another orgasm filling up in your stomach. “Please don’t ever leave me, Eiji. I want you with me forever. “

Of course, this was something he had no qualms about doing. He was ready. He’d give up school, his goals, his life to please you at every waking moment. He’d keep you pumped full of his cum so you’d never think about anyone else. You wouldn’t even remember what it was like to live like you weren’t a succubus. You’d be happy like this. With him.

Because he was your hero.

#kirishima x reader #kirishima eijiro x reader #eijirou x reader #kirishima x reader smut #kirishima #kirishima eijirou #kirishima smut #kirishima eijirou smut #mha x reader #bnha x reader #mha smut #bnha smut #my hero academia smut #boku no hero academia smut #i was supposed to just be doing drabbles #i just couldn't not make this dark #the vn is called room. no 9 #cayofdreams #cayfanfic

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notashrew · 2 years ago

Note

Im done with the secret satan thing but Im really curious on how Herbert is still alive, I know the answer is probably obvious due to his name but I still wanna know 👀

👉👈 Y-y-you want to hear about me blorbos?

First of all, I'm really excited to hear you've finished my secret satan already and I'm excited to see it! I have to wait for the entire month though but I'll be hyped up!

Second, yes Herbert's, TF2 fan character, first name is a direct reference to horror character Herbert West from Re-Animator, both a book and movie. His last name [redacted] is also a reference to other horror character of same category of mad doctors, from [redacted].

I'll put all of the answer under the read more, including drawing of him for those who don't know who I'm talking about! Decapitated doodle ahead, peeps.

So the deal with Herbert is, he's headless. Anatomically all correct, decapitated. Flesh and all. Got even some of spine sticking out. I have some details and thoughts how his entire *gestures vaguely* thing works, but nothing too sensible and not everything has been figured out. Most of the time I just say "it just works".

TLDR it's a respawn glitch.

He has surgically intentionally removed his own head on purpose as a choice. He discovered this possibility by being exposed to "a respawn glitch" (I have to allow respawn existing in my aus because I have the worst-at-their-job mercenaries as my fcs) when he was still relatively new Medic hired by BLU. An enemy Demoman decapitated him with his eyelander, but through some bizard glitch in the system, while his head could be considered as "dead", his body still behaved like it was living and consious. He had lost his main senses, though, but could still walk and attempt to figure out blindly what was going on and was somewhat aware of his state. Demoman finished him soon after and he returned to his normal head-included self.

Fascinated by this - and having already immense fear of being perceived by other people and other issues - he did some experimenting with himself and trying to recreate that glitch under controlled circumstances. Eventually, he managed to control it, live and function without his head physically attached to his body and nervous system. He can somewhat sense normally (although limited field of vision), communicate verbally and otherwise control his body after some rehabilitation. His nerves are kinda sorta still connected to his brain, just not physically but through [insert some scifi-respawn-technology bullshit here]. His "head" and brain is still inside the respawn system, a copy of sorts, that his body is attached and connected to.

There's a little chip in his spine right at the end of the neck that holds this connection through respawn. I did some anatomical messing up here shhhh There's also a tiny bit of his nuclear extension left in..... SOMEWHERE that keeps his organs still running even without the main brain. As long as he keeps injecting some of the medigun healy juice into him and maintains the basic care on the exposed neck area, and all the modifications stay intact, he's immune to all complications like infections or such.

Somewhere in the timeline, he also managed to get rid of his head and destroy it completely while this glitch and maintaining still holds up.

Science bullshit, basically!

#assbox #my ocs #thank you so much for asking! i did my best to keep all the mess science bullshitting as short and simple as i could

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hello-its-chyme-archived · 3 years ago

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Author's Note : This piece of writing is dedicated to Jack Wade Meyer. May you rot in hell, you pathetic excuse for man.

!TRIGGER WARNING FOR GORE!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

INVENTORY - [🗝️] - M.KEY : UNLOCKS A MEMORY .

[ ♥️ USE] [DISCARD]

ENTER DREAM STATE ?

[ ♥️ YES] [NO]

ENTERING DREAM STATE ...

LOADING . . . .

. .

. . .

Chyme pads up to the sleeping form. A man is resting in a hospital bed, beaten to the brink of death. It's not enough, however, he thinks. This man has not payed enough for what he's done. For the people he's hurt. Chyme's eyes narrow, and he rests a paw on the man's forehead. "Let me in," he whispers. "Let me in..."

The pale white rabbit feels a jolt, and as he opens his eyes, he is in the injured man's dream, his unconscious headspace. It takes a moment for his marque to notice him, but Chyme has learned patience over all the years he has lived. When he does turn around, Chyme is met with a sickening smile.

"Hello there, little friend." Chyme blinks, "Hello, Jack." Jack looks startled, if only for a split second. Before he can say anything, the rabbit speaks again. "I am here to serve justice."

The man snorts- "You? A little rabbit? What could you do against me? And anyways, I've done nothing wrong-" Here, Chyme interrupts. "That is a lie. And certainly not your first one, from what I've heard. I've heard what you've done. I've seen the families you've dragged through Hell. I know. I know what you've done, Jack Meyer."

If Jack had meant to say something here, he was cut off by thick, dark chains bursting from the ground and shackling his wrists. Chyme sat still. "What are you doing to me? Let me go! Let me go, you little shit! I didn't do anything! I didn't do anything!"

"Why do you keep lying?" Chyme asked. "We've already established that you have done something, lots of things, in fact. Horrible things. Normally, I would be startlingly indifferent to what you did, but this time... This time you hurt someone close to me."

His voice was barely a whisper, "What?" Chyme moves for the first time since entering this dark, twisted place, stepping towards him. "Do you remember Aether? Although xe went by a different name then, you would know xem as <[REDACTED]>. Do you remember? Come on, use that horrible, twisted brain." His voice is near a snarl.

⚠️ GORE STARTS HERE ⚠️

With a flick of his paw, Chyme's marque grows silent, forced to stop talking. "Now, you will be silent. You will sit still until I have deemed otherwise." That was the only warning, as the ground lurched and groaned, writhing and bursting as it erupted with maimed carcasses, bloody and twisted.

The man glares daggers into the stone faced rabbit, however he gets no response, only making him angrier. Chyme can feel it. The corpses twitched closer to Jack, at the will of the rabbit. His eyes widened in horror and disgust, as the bloody, dead creatures drew near, almost touching him.

The smell must have been horrendous; all rotten and bloody, the iron tang of the red liquid mixed with decay. Chyme didn't care, he couldn't even smell it. He wasn't really here, after all. A mental twinge, and he realized he was wasting time drawing this on.

He reminds himself of the long nights he spent being cradled by Aether, and his hatred for this man sparks up higher. Another step forward, but Jack is too busy staring in fear at the broken, fleshy bodies that were crawling up his body. Bile rises in his throat but he can't move his body, he can't shake them off. He can't do anything. He is not in control anymore.

Chyme smiles at this, a twisted, vengeful smile. His work was not done, however. He will see this man die.

"You've already shown that you refuse to acknowledge your actions, but I know. I've seen xeir memories, I know the horrible things you've done." Chyme's body begins to crack and shift, flesh writhing and twisting as his form changes.

The sound of bones snapping and cracking filled the room, his fur growing ragged and black as he morphs into a large, feral beast. He can taste the man's fear as he tears his gaze from the corpses to Chyme's new form.

Chyme was now a towering beast, fur colored black and shaggy, jaws lengthening and fangs sprouting from his maw, too many to fully close his mouth. His paws had become that of a wolf's, or a furred dragon, long and sharp with clearly seen claws yet covered in that inky, dark fur. He now had a long, whip-like tail that snaked along behind him, and his breathing had gone heavy.

Chyme crouched, and listened with pure glee as Jack whimpered and started pleading. "HUSH," he growled, his voice now layered and deeper. "YOU DO NOT DESERVE MERCY FOR THE THINGS YOU'VE DONE. FOR ALL THE PEOPLE YOU'VE RUINED AND BROKEN, NOT JUST AETHER."

All Jack could see was this hulking beast pounding towards him, as the guts and carcasses pulled closer and closer, snaking around his neck, pulling...

It all faded to darkness for Mr. Meyer as the beast clamped it's massive jaws around his skull and crunched.

Back in the real world, Chyme awakens from his trance, lurching away from the sickening man in front of him. He watches in satisfaction as he hears a flatline, and he notes how the monitor showed an elevated heartbeat before Jack died.

Perfect, he thinks. Another one gone smoothly. They'll think he had a heart attack mid-dream, and one more sinner goes to Hell. He smiles.

. .

. . .

END OF MEMORY . WOULD YOU LIKE TO SAVE ?

[ ♥️ YES] [NO]

PICK A SAVE SLOT .

> ( SLOT 1 : RIDGE GATE [SAN.ANT.])

> ( SLOT 2 : AUSTIN STREET [SGN.] ♥️ )

> ( SLOT 3 : [EMPTY] [SAN.ANT.])

> ( SLOT 4 : [EMPTY])

> ( SLOT 5 : [EMPTY])

SLOT SAVED !

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

💡 TIP :

s a f e t y i n s h o r t c u t s .

#tw dereality #tw derealization #tw body horror #tw gore #tw blood #tw chains #tw trauma #tw abuse #tw vent #vent post #vent writing #writing #writers on tumblr #vent #tw #traumacore

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headcans-oneshots-and-stuff · 5 years ago

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Eddie Brock x reader x Venom (HC)

Requested by my amazing @sirkekselord: GIVE ME VENOM AND EDDIE BROCK! [Rest is redacted so that theres no spoilers ;)]

A/N: Venom is in bold and thoughts in general are italic

You were young, you were dumb and you were hopeful, so of fucking course you moved to the big city (in this case San Francisco) to follow your dream of becoming an artist

Well, needless to say that you were quite naive to think that you’d just magically get dicovered and that you’d be represented in an art gallery...

Because that didn’t happen, no matter how amaizing your paintings were and how magnificent your sculptures, the gallery and museums turned you away because of a ‘lack of experience’

But you didn’t give up on painting and creating, and you didn’t give up on wanting to make it in the big city, you’d just decided that it would take time

So the next best thing for you to do was to get a job, to be able to start paying for your own things and move out of your aunts apartement, while gaining as much experience through unpayed internships and other activities as you could

It wasn’t what you had hoped for, but only a few months later you had a realitivly good paying job at a chocolatier in the heart of the city while selling your paintings and taking commission on the side, earning enough money to get a small flat all for yourself

Moving in was a whole hot mess, but you somehow managed to get most of it done in a weekend (you didn’t have a lot of stuff after all), yet having to meet your neighbors

Over the next few weeks you met a few people who lived on the floors above and below you, but the guys who were living in the apartement opposite you were a no show

At least during the times when you’d leave or get home

You knew it had to be two men who lived together seeing as you sometimes could hear them fight through the walls, but other than that you knew nothing about the two

The first time you actually met Eddie was after a shift where a costumer had managed to spill his fancy ice cocoa over you, making your whole body smell like you’ve been spending your nights at Willi Wonka’s chocholate factory

So, while you were standing in the somewhat shabby elevator, Ed was on his way to leave for his nightly “walk” with Venom, only for his body to completely freeze when he came near the stairs

“What’s your Problem?” “CHOCOLATE!”

Cue to the elevator opening and you stepping out, your gaze fixed on your phone, not realizing there was somebody else here until you straight up walked into a tall frame

That was how you’d met Eddie, the short conversation consisting of apologize and introducions before he excused himself, seemingly somewhere else with his thoughts

And after that the two of you somehow weren’t able to go for two/three days before you walked into each other again

It was almost uncanny

...or...fate?

At first it was just in the hallway, short greetings turning into short conversations turning into inside jokes, smiles and laughs

Then, after you got comfortable with your lifestyle and managed to asses which evenings were good enough to take some time off, you somehow ended in his favorite bar, on his usual chair

Whenever the two of you met at random places, be it the Deli at the corner, the park while you were sketching or just somewhere in the city, your conversations would get deeper and only a few months later it was like he knew everything about you and you almost everything about him

You liked him and you were pretty sure he liked you too

The only reason you didn’t act on your feelings was that, even tho you felt like you knew him, there were sstill some red flags that made you think twice...

..how he’d sometimes just stare at you with almost empty eyes...

...how, whenever you came home from your job, you’d catch him standing closer than usual...

...how sometimes, while you were out and about in the city and met him, he seemed like he was talking to himself in a hushed voice

Not to mention the thing that made you doubt your own sanity

His roommate seemed to be completely non-existend

You’d talked to some housemates and mentioned him on the offside and they all swore that Eddie lived there alone, but in the evening you could still hear two voices that definitly belonged to two different people

When you finally get the guts to ask Ed about his roommate, he just looks at you weirdly and states that he doesn’t have one, so you don’t press the topic further

It’s then that you think that it’s maybe not a roommate, but a boyfriend or something like that and decide that it’d maybe be best if you kept your distance from him

But both Eddie and Venom (who had taken a liking to you from the distance) noticed and decided that it was maybe time to tell you about their litlle...uhm situation

It took a lot of soothing and sweet talking to get you out of the bathroom when he had showed you, but after that you slowly started to warm up to Venom

On Eddie’s advice on you started bringing chocolate smaples from your job along for him and from that moment forward he was sold

But even tho you were now friends with both Eddie and Venom, the two (or three) of you still weren’t anything more even tho Venom could literally smell how lovesick his two tiny mortals were for each other

So he decided to help out and, one evening while you were chilling in front of the TV at Ed’s place, he wrapped himself around the two of you like a coucon, telling you he’d only let you out if you talked about the obvious

Not even promising him a chocolate cake (or a human much to you horror) got him to back off

So you talked

and then you kissed...

After that it was pretty much time for the Powercouple™

You’d read all his articles while he and Venom were the muse for a lot of your paintings and sculptures

Not long after the two of you both moved out of that apartement builduing and into a bigger one a few streets over

Venom started switching between Eddie and you (he’d stay with you at home and switch back to Eddie when the two of you went to work)

All in all it got very domestic and cute very quick

And in a wink of destiny, not soon after a women approached you while you were painting in the Park (like so often before you included Venom into a natur envionement (even tho it was so artsy that you wouldn’t immediatly get that it was Venom)) and gave you her card, saying that you were exactly what she looked for for her newely opened Gallery

Not soon after Eddie, you and Venom (who was sharing your body at that moment) were standing in the packed Gallery on opening night, with people praising your art of the two of them

In hindsight, walking into Ed all those months ago was most likely the best thing that had ever happened to you...

#Eddie Brock #eddie brock x reader #venom #venom x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #headcanon #eddie brock x reader x venom #poly #polyamourous #poly!reader

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cult-of-the-eye · 11 months ago

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inspired by @archivus' statements, i decided to give it a try myself

tw for depersonalisation, body image issues, body horror, slight gore

Out of Body Experience

Statement of Rebekah Fitch, regarding something that wasn’t her body. Original statement given 5th March 2018. Recording by [REDACTED], Head Archivist of the Magnus Institute, Manchester. Committed to tape 26th March 2024.

Statement begins.

I never thought I would end up like this. I just-

I guess I should start from the start.

Throughout my life, I’ve had a complicated relationship with my body. Not to get too, um, personal or anything, but let’s just say it's tough being the child of an immigrant mother, especially, well, my mother. She would make comments about my body, small ones, I’ll admit, but ones that certainly built up to…recent events. On top of all that, I spent a lot of my teen years dissociating. Tricking my brain into believing that I wasn’t real. That nothing was. It’s a bit difficult to solidify an image of your body when half of you is ashamed of it and the other half doesn’t even consider your ownership of one. Ownership. I guess that’s sort of where it all began.

It was sometime in January when it all started to go wrong. I don’t exactly have a habit of staring at myself in the mirror, in fact, the only mirror I own in my cramped little flat is the bathroom one. It’s somehow always stained, a fact which I hesitate to admit helped me live with my…issues. The point is, the majority of the time, I didn’t know how I looked.

And then one day, I watched myself wake up.

I remember exactly how it felt. You know how people sometimes slice oranges in half and then take the peel, dig their fingers into the sides and push, letting each segment split from the other, hungrily leaning up towards you? That’s how I felt. Inverted. Wrong. I saw myself in a way that I had never, ever seen before. Each and every part of me that bulged where it shouldn’t have, thinned and yellowed at the edges like a fruit in its off-season. Whatever was happening to my eyes didn’t hurt, exactly, but I could feel every single part of my body as if it had suddenly awoken from a deep unconsciousness. It disgusted me. The life of it all. I panicked, of course, I thought I was having a really, really bad dream and that all I needed to do was wake up. But, no matter how many times I attempted to shield myself from the view, no matter how many times I willed every single synapse in my brain to connect and let my goddamn eyes close, nothing happened.

That nothing was the most excruciating nothing that I had ever experienced in my life. I was forced open, boneless and writhing. The me on the bed that I was watching slept soundly.

I don’t remember when I snapped out of it. I don’t remember how long it had been. I sat up, drenched in sweat, determined to be rid of the one mirror I had left. Putting it in the bin didn’t feel as triumphant as I believed it would. I guess part of me knew that this was no one-off.

Ok, I know what you’re thinking. It could just be a hallucination. I could be traumatised or mentally ill or on drugs. Well, I’m actually all of those things, which means that I have the unique ability to prove you wrong. I know what a hallucination feels like, I know what drug side effects feel like, and I know what my episodes feel like. And this? This was entirely separate. I don’t have to tell you that it happened again. I don’t have to tell you that I went from GP to GP, therapist to therapist to find out what was happening to me. But I will end this with proof.

Statement Ends.

Post-statement records include a medical report of one Rebekah Fitch. It outlines a series of scars of unidentified means on the underside of her eyelids, spelling out the phrase “I know that I exist.” Any attempts to follow up have led to dead ends. However, I’m afraid that I may be able to guess how this one ends.

#tma #the magnus archives #tma statements #tma fanfic #how else should i tag this

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otome-on-the-side · 4 years ago

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Pride

So, I shuffled some stuff around to make this deadline. This fic is a more personal exploration of something I grew up seeing so many people mock growing up on the internet - even as recently as here, within the om community.

Neopronouns are seen as this cringey, absurd concept. They can be strange and confusing - but so much of the queer experience is. How is expressing oneself through words in one way, any worse than another?

This line of thought is what led me to pick out neopronouns for my self insert, thanks to a wonderful post that linked me to a wonderful carrd.

nect / nectar / nectar / nectars / nectarself in relation to the easier to understand they / them / their / theirs / themself

Are Joe “Slip” Little’s pronouns. Nect shares a nickname with me, along with other characteristics, as they are a self insert. Exploring my identity through this lense has been a joy, and ultimately I’m glad to write what I’ve written; A short story about Slip discussing with nectar new pacts about their man eating habits.

Trigger warnings include: death, murder, man eating, and talk of shit

“Alright, I’ve gathered you all here today to ask a very important question- one that’s been on my mind for some time.” Mammon, Leviathan, and Beelzebub sat at the dining room table, looking at Slip expectantly. Mammon looked ready to break into a sweat, Leviathan was shifting restlessly in his seat, and Beel simply tensed.

“All three have said something along the same line of thought; so, I wanted to ask- How would you have eaten me and disposed of my body?”

Mammon immediately began sputtering as Leviathan gaped openly at nect- even Beelzebub was shocked. Slip plowed over their reactions, cutting off Mammon and any other protests with, “Ordered in youngest to oldest!” Nect spoke forcefully, pointing at the sixth born. “Beel, go!”

He blinked, wide eyed for a moment before answering, his eyes downcast in shame. “I would have eaten you from your head and worked my way down, consuming all of you until there was nothing left.” He forced himself to meet nectar eyes, and chillingly, Slip knew he was speaking the complete truth. Consuming was his curse, gifted so wretchedly from his father.

Even now, it still gnawed unceasingly at his stomach. Slip had fallen off the menu by proving how capable nect were, and what nect would do to keep people nect cared about safe. But that didn’t mean he didn’t feel like he’d been ranting at a butter sheep when he’d first opened up to nect at two am.

Despite this, nect grinned, taking a bit of sick delight in the brothers’ discomfort. Slip’s morbid curiosity hadn’t left nect, only intensified. Nectar lips quirked into a smirk as nect asked further. “Would you chew?”

“...Yes.”

“Would ya stop fuckin’ encouragin’ him?!” Mammon snapped.

Leviathan was prevented from adding in, as a single held up finger from Slip managed to shut up both elder demons.

It surprised nect that this worked, even as they still held eye contact with Beelzebub, but nect spoke before either demon broke the unspoken command. “It isn’t the most creative method, but it’s fitting, I think. You didn’t specify how you’d get rid of any remains...” nect rubbed at nectar jaw in thought. “But considering the implications… they would be hard to find, and deeply unpleasant for Lucifer. 8 out of 10.”

“You’re scoring this?!” Leviathan cried out, wide eyed with horror and dismay.

“All that, and that’s what ya have a problem with?!” Mammon critiqued.

Slip interrupted the banter by turning nectar attention on Leviathan, crying, “You next Levi!” articulating the command by pointing nectar finger at him. “Go!”

Terrified, he murmured and stuttered haltingly, “U-um..., I, I- I would have.. ” Before his mortification made something snap, and proceeded to yell, “I WOULD HAVE SWALLOWED YOU WHOLE!! I ALREADY TOLD YOU THIS; WHY DO I HAVE TO SAY IT AGAIN?!!” A part of him had taken pleasure in the thought, back when Slip had goaded him into playing that farce of a TSL quiz. The nerve of this weak human, and his brothers helping nect, all the made him look stupid because he took joy in something- all in order to gain his pact mark.

He didn’t regret keeping his word to Slip, not at all, but thinking about how he’d felt at the time upset him- even if every nasty bit of it was true. Especially because it was true.

Slip merely nodded again, hand returned to nectar jaw, looking thoughtful. “Yeah, but I’d wondered if you’d changed your mind.”

“Of course not!” He sputtered.

Nect interrupted him before he could protest more. “6 out of 10. Same kind of disposal as Beel’s, but I feel as though the remains could be found easier, as the skeleton would be more whole. Plus, I’d be conscious for way more of it than I would with Beel, and I Do Not like the idea of going out knowing what vore feels like.”

Slip continued on nectar conversational rampage without letting Leviathan protest his low score, pointing at the room’s eldest. “Mammon! You next!”

The second born could only sputter for a moment as his thoughts got together “Alright, ya weirdo, without a doubt I’m going to get the best score.” “He’s stalling.” Levi commented from the peanut gallery. “Shaddup! I’m not done talkin’! I’d-” He’d been blustering, full of puffed up fake confidence until he’d taken a glance at Slip. Then all of it started leaking out of him as he spoke, even as he ripped his gaze away from his master. “I’d just- kill ya, and sell off all the parts for cash on the illegal market.”

His shoulders drooped and his voice softened as he spoke. “ ‘S not like it would be hard. You’d let me walk up and snap your neck before you could realize. Then it’s just wrapping it up like a delicacy and cranking the price up so it would be worth the effort.” His gaze was on the floor now, cold dread dragging its fingers down the back of his neck and into the pit of his stomach.

He’d turned away from nect without realizing. His brothers had no quips to add on; they’d already had the same realization. Mammon turned, looking at Slip over his shoulder to speak. “You’re too fucking trusting.”

Nect merely shrugged in response. “It isn’t really a me problem if someone crosses a line. A corpse is just that: a corpse. It isn’t me at that point, even if you knew it as me beforehand.” There was a pause there, as what nect said sank in. There was more to be said about it than that, but that was a conversation to be had in private; just for nect and Mammon alone. “Anyway. Points redacted as you wouldn’t succeed-”

Slip was aware something was looming behind nect. It wouldn’t stop nect though, as he could damn well wait for nect to finish nectar conversation.

“-because you’d get caught wrapping the meat and all the over stuff up. But I respect the swift action and creativity there, plus the hustle. Always respect the hustle.”

“Slip,” Lucifer warned.

“ 7 out of 10.” nect finished.

#obey me #fics #obey me! shall we date?#im not going to tag any of the brothers in particular but know its mammon levi and beel with luci popping up at the end #obey me mc #SI slip little #pride #this was honestly really fun #ive been stuck at home with parents im not out to so the dysphoria im constantly dealing with has been causing a bit of a creative bleed out #so yeah thats why i havent been finishing personal projects and commitments as fast as id like #but i can still manage to slap out snippets every now and then #anyway anti-mogai dni #thanksss #neopronouns are fun and if people wanna feel like they're using stickers with the english language: they should be allowed to go ham

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whispedcream · 4 years ago

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played leon’s and then seraphina’s route. kinda disappointed that roxana’s actions weren’t brought up during THAT scene in leon’s route while sera got flavor text about it. so :)

Apple Tree

pairing: leon x (implied m/nb) keeper rating: general notes: spoilers for kotdan, kotsam nephilim route spoilers, reyna is [redacted] :) summary: you’re forced to think about your parents’ relationship when leon’s empathy powers are brought to attention.

As soon as Seraphina mentioned the words Leon and empath so casually your sleep deprived brain decided it just about had enough. Yet you still had enough energy to cycle through a thousand thoughts per second. All of those thoughts being about one singular person. The woman who ruined your life, as well as your father’s.

You can’t bring yourself to look at him because you’re scared of what you might see. Seraphina finally manages to look back at you from across the room. You watch as her face subtly changes from uncomfortable to guilty. She doesn’t have to use her powers to know what you’re thinking about.

Fate has been nothing but cruel even before you were conceived. With shiny eyes you try to process if these are even your tears. They had to be. You didn’t struggle to learn and understand compulsion ever since the incidents with Secretary Monroe or even Reyna. By design you are a keeper. You should be stronger now to withstand an empath of all things.

Your body feels numb when your father comes to mind. You don’t want to end up like him. You don’t want to repeat the cycle.

The similarities are laughable. How Leon asked you out for the first time as if you were a novelty. The Nephilim raised human was a new shiny toy to play with. Was that how Roxana viewed your father? He was just a simple human born into a family of Nephilim. He was different and unlike the rest. Just like you.

But unlike Roxana, Leon changed. While still arrogant and stuck up at times, he treats you with kindness and love. He looks at you as if you are a star; gleaming and glittering in the night sky. These changes were noticeable to practically everyone. From the way he put a smiley face on your waffles during your spring break with the twins. To how he looked at you across the kitchen table in your own house during Thanksgiving. Aunt Dru had the time of her life poking fun at both Leon and Henrik that night. That still didn’t deter the way he looked at you or held your hand.

He loves you. Roxana was never known to love.

Leon is not Roxana.

You are not your father.

Leon is Leon.

You are you.

It was difficult, but you manage to pull yourself back to reality as you hear Leon speak again. He sounds broken. You still can’t bring yourself to look at him, and you can feel how much it hurts him. Leon doesn’t know about the Constellation Project or your mother’s role in everything. Yet he knows of her and what she did to your family. You’re both terrified.

“Asteria,” Leon says, horrified, and you know he’s still looking at you. “You probably don’t even love me.” He finally breaks down.

That’s when you bring yourself to look at him, and part of you regrets it. She’s there looking at you through his frightened, yet beautiful, blue eyes. It takes all of your strength to not pull back as Leon struggles to decide if he wants to reach out to you. He doesn’t want to hurt you, but she’s still there. She’s mocking you like she always does in your nightmares.

She mocks you by standing near Leon’s bed in the dark. No matter what you can never will your body to move in those dreams. All you can do is watch in fear and scream silently into the night. Afraid that she is going to hurt him again.

Roxana Castella is a dead woman and yet she continues to inflict pain on everyone you care about.

Forcefully shoving the fear out of your body, you grab Leon to ground yourself. “No. No, Leon that’s not true.”

You love him. You truly want to believe that you love him. You can only hope he loves you back.

Seraphina leaves the room and you lose him. Leon breaks away from your arms with some struggle. You don’t want to lose him.

The next couple of minutes are a whirlpool of emotions. Leon cuts into himself in an attempt to prove himself guilty. To reveal himself as a murderous monster. His mother dies before your very eyes. It’s not his fault though. None of this was his fault. You’re regrettably more at fault than he’ll ever be.

It takes time, but you manage to catch Leon again and guide him to the common room couch. You hold his face gently in your hands as you wipe away his tears. His hands are balled into fists in his lap as he ignores the fact that his hand is still bleeding red. Your mouth feels dry like sandpaper, but you still try to counsel him. His mother’s death was not his fault at all. This was all because of Anetha.

This was all probably because of Roxana too, but he doesn’t need to know that right now.

Leon laughs faintly as he leans into your palm. “Guess we’ll never know given that, according to nymphy, my magic makes people love me. Asteria, you shouldn’t trust me at all.”

Leon’s horror isn’t masked at all by his usually charming lopsided grin, entirely at odds with the terror in his wide blue eyes. You can’t help but to feel some kind of relief that you can only see yourself reflected off of them. He can’t stop fidgeting in your hold, as if your gaze is the only thing keeping him from flying out the window and never looking back.

“Oh, Leon. . .,” you sigh. “I. . . I know this is a lot to take in. But we’ll get through this.”

Leon would never walk away from you on purpose, so that is at least a start.

He laughs painfully, as if laughing is his only option other than screaming. “If I don’t kill you with my powers before then.”

“A lot of people have tried that already,” you assure him. “Somehow, I don’t think you’re going to be the one to succeed.”

The nagging part of your brain tries to make you think about what would you do if you ever found yourself in that kind of situation with him. Dying is not an option. Killing Reyna was proof of that. There was no guilt then, but with Leon? You shove those thoughts back into the dark for now.

Instead you rub soothing circles on his back, and the two of you stay like that for a long time.

#keeper of the sun and moon #leon dalton #keeper of the day and night #kotsam #kotdan

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maybe-your-left · 5 years ago

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A Case In Need: I Have to Mark You

This chapter has a lot in it... it's not as long as my others but there's a lot that happens.

TW/CW: stepping into more dark territory for this chapter. It may cause you to have anxiety if that's something you get from reading fics that touch on 'physical or mental abuse' if so, I would skip this chapter. Nothing NSFW, but there is some emotional and mental manipulation happening in this chapter.

This chapter hurt me to write but it needed to be done so the two can progress in a 'non-healthy' way in their relationship.

I also wanted to say that I do not condone Ren's actions in this chapter. If you have feelings for someone this is NOT the way to do it.

As always I have a Masterlist so you can read all the chapters and also check out my two other fics, Cowboy Blues and Good Intentions. They are not as intense as this chapter if thats what you are into!

Pain.

Digging, throbbing, gum scraping pain.

Hands were all over you, touching. Grabbing, pinching your skin.

You kept trying to scream, trying to thrash away but the chains kept you still. Ren made sure of it.

You don’t know how long you were held there, you just remember hearing the door open and close. The sound of footsteps entering the room. Ren's voice talking to others, and suddenly you were being touched. Not anywhere sexually, but it felt violating. You didn’t know who they were, how many there were. All you knew was that it hurt.

You jolted from your anxiety-induced fainting, someone was stroking your hair. Brushing it with the cold bristles of a brush. Back and forth over your part, being sure to keep every hair out of your face. It would’ve been soothing if you could speak, but all that could come out were garbled moans. Spit was spilling over the ball gag, soaking your chin, dripping down onto your chest. Whoever was there was quick to wipe the excess while the brush kept combing your hair.

“They’re almost done, Angel.” a deep voice cooed. Lips touching your ear, voice like honey over your frayed wounds. You jerked your head to the side, desperate for reassurance from the assailant. A sharp sting by your side, followed by a separate voice mumbling to itself. “You did so well my princess… I’m so proud of you.”

You moaned, tensing your arms again, trying to break free. But the more you flexed, the more exhausted you became. All you could do was cry, and allow whoever to continue to brush your hair, hoping that the horror would end.

Moments later the pain stopped, in its place was a cold film. Spread across your side, sticking to your sweat-slicked body. Footsteps out of the room. You heard what sounded like a fridge door opening and shutting, followed by someone sitting in a chair opposite from you. Oh how you wished you could see, touch, hear anything except the blood rushing to your brain.

A drink was sipped, the smacking of lips across the room, “Now you’ll never forget who you belong to.”

-----

You were sore. Rolling over in bed, stretching and flexing your arms and legs. Sighing at the popping of joints, a symphony to your bedridden ears. You felt the sunshine flood through the windows, basking the bed in its warmth. You opened your eyes, they were crusted and dry. Probably needed to take out your contacts, you must’ve forgotten to take them out when you went to sleep last night.

Oh.

Your eyes fell to the sheets.

These weren’t yours.

No the ones in your bed were white, these were a charcoal gray.

Something different was in your arms, a soothing softness you hadn’t felt in weeks. You blinked a few times, trying to rehydrate your contacts. Pulling the article up to your face you saw colors. You gasped, it was your tie-dye blanket! The one Ren had stolen from you weeks ago! You held it close to your face, breathing in the scent, familiar and safe. You started crying into the blanket, it had been so long.

“I see you’re awake.”

You stopped, memories of the night before flooding your brain. Dropping the blanket from your eyes you peaked at the man sitting at the foot of the bed.

Ren.

You saw red.

What did he do to you last night? You couldn’t remember, your brain blocking out the trauma he induced. You launched at his figure, stoic and still. He was staring at you, sipping on a cup of coffee. In his sleep shirt and pants, hair tousled so effortlessly you would have forgiven him right then and there. But the moment you moved your side ached with pain. You sat up, instinctively cupping your rib cage.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” he instructed. Eyes unblinking, you would’ve thought he was a statue if it wasn’t for his eye twitching.

“What, what do you mean?”

You looked down at yourself, somehow you were dressed in your sleep shirt and a pair of old sweatpants. Both you hadn’t seen since your move to the new apartment, more things Ren must’ve stolen. Your hand pressed to your ribcage, instantly causing you to wince.

“What did I just say?” He set down his coffee on the bedside table, moving closer to you. Reaching out his large paws to no doubt restrain you again. You flinched away, tears forming in your eyes.

“Don’t touch me,” you hissed. Your bottom lip was already quivering, although you couldn’t remember everything. You remembered that he did this to you.

Ren stopped moving towards you, hands falling to his folded legs. Looking at you with dead, unblinking eyes. He hummed and got off the bed, crossing the hotel room to the kitchen. You clutched onto the blanket, attempting to hide from him. Shutting your eyes as you heard him coming back, “Drink this Angel.”

He had a glass of water in his hand, holding it in front of your face.

Your mouth instantly became dry, “Why?”

Ren rolled his eyes, “I can see how chapped your lips are from here just take the water.”

Sitting up again, wincing at the pain, you propped yourself up on the headboard. Grabbing the glass from his hands and slowly sipping. “Good girl, now let’s talk.” He sat back down on the bed, careful not to touch you. Ren ran a hand through his bedhead, sighing as you backed further into the wall. “Before you freak out, I did this for your own good.”

You clung to the blanket again, “What did you do Ren?”

He reached out, stopping when you backed away again. You didn’t want his hands to touch you, afraid of what you might feel. What you might say when he does, how you would betray yourself for falling for him when he was so clearly capable of hurting you.

“You have to let me touch you, I won’t hurt you.”

You scoffed, “Yeah like I’d believe that.” You hopped off the bed, stepping on wobbly legs. Holding your blanket to your chest. You instantly felt dizzy when you stood up, like your body was shutting down all over again. Your vision was spotting, only making it to the couches when you felt Rens arms surrounding you.

“Stop moving, you’ll hurt yourself,” he whispered in your ear.

You threw your arm back, smacking the side of his head, “Let go of me! I don’t-I don’t need your help.”

Smacking him again and again, whatever was on your side was throbbing now with every movement. His arm was trying to keep a loose grip but you kept squirming away from him.

“Angel, stop moving!”

“No!” you sobbed, tears streaming down your face again. You wanted him to let you go, let you fall to the floor, and be at peace. Away from the monster who chained you last night.

“(Y/N)!”

You clenched a fist, swinging up at his jaw. Although you were exhausted and sleep-deprived, you could feel the click of bones smashing together. He fell back from you, hands covering his own face, allowing you to fall on your butt to the floor. Chest heaving, you cried into your blanket, desperate for relief from the aching of your body and soul.

Above you, you heard silent sniffles. Followed by Ren taking a deep breath and probably rubbing his nose on his shirt, “Please. (Y/N), please let me help you.”

Looking up your eyes locked. No longer were they dead, but full of sadness. Regret, pain, just like your own. They were bloodshot, like he had been crying for hours beforehand, his under eyes were puffy and bruised. Ren sniffled again, reaching out a hand to you.

Staring back and forth, the hand and his face, you were torn. An unspoken bond between you two had been severed, and now you were faced with the aftermath.

Slowly you raised your own hand to his, studying how small and delicate it was compared to his palm. Veins scattered across your own skin, discoloration at the wrist, while his own were powerful and callused. Years of work and determination between each muscle, fingers cradling your own. He gently tugged your hand, silently asking you to try and stand up. You raised to your feet, swaying slightly. Ren leaned into you, careful that you wouldn’t fall again. Pulling you back towards the bed, both of you sitting in front of the other.

You redacted your hand once you were settled, holding again to the blanket. Ren brought his hands to his lap, studying his own wrists. Flexing and stretching them in and out of fists before he spoke again.

“Yesterday,” he sighed, “Thing’s got a little out of control.”

You nodded.

“And it is not my fault that you wouldn’t behave and listen to me…”

“So you’re blaming me?” you scoffed.

“Yes.”

You moved to get up again, but Ren’s hands shot out to stop you, “No no no, I’m not blaming you. Please don’t move.”

“I needed you to understand your place in all this…” he looked down at your side.

“And what is my place Ren,” you whispered.

“It’s with me. (Y/N), it’s with me, now and forever.”

You shut your eyes, tears forming once more.

“What happened Kylo?”

He got up, hoisting you into his arms in a bridal carry. Walking to the bathroom. Kicking open the doorway and settling you on the ground between him and the mirror. He said nothing, just grabbed the hem of your shirt and tugged. Understanding what he wanted you lifted your shirt off, closing your eyes, afraid of what you might see. He let out a deep breath, fingers lightly trailing up and down your spine and over towards the affected area.

You opened your eyes and gasped.

You looked terrible.

Your hair was in a knotted mess. Someone, hopefully Ren, had tried to put it in a bun last night but instead maybe tied it in a bow? Your face was splotchy and red, eyes bloodshot like his. Your lips were pink and swollen, puffed up on the inside from the gag being in. Eye makeup smeared across your cheeks and down to your neck.

Your eyes scanned yourself in the mirror, slowly moving towards your left side. Film, you saw a film on your side. Almost like a saran-wrap texture across your skin, taking up the lower portion of your left rib cage and waist. You lifted your arm, revealing the source of your pain.

Gasping, you instinctively went to touch it, Ren grabbing your wrist before you could. You had a tattoo.

Not just any tattoo, but a name. Written in his own handwriting, across your ribcage. The ink was slightly bleeding, along with your skin attempting to pucker under your movements. It was an elegant tattoo, simple and beautiful. If it weren’t for the demon who gave it to you unwillingly you would’ve loved it. But the demon was standing behind you, staring into your soul. Holding you hostage for the second time.

“Why,” you croaked out. Not moving your gaze from the mark.

He swallowed behind you, “You forced my hand.”

“Excuse me?”

Ren stared at the tattoo, his left hand coming across the film. Slowly tracing the lines of his own name, like he had never seen the words before. “Now you’ll never forget how much I love you.”

The words fell on your ears like a curse. All the blood rushing to your head. You felt like you were going to pass out, jerking away from him but he held you still. Breathing menacingly behind you, ready to eat you if you denied his declaration. What kind of sick and twisted game was this? It was fun when you two were fooling around but this, this was wrong. He belonged to someone else and now, now he had gone too far.

He spun you around, forcing you to look him in the eyes. “You’ll never forget that you belong to me, and me alone.” His hand locked on your jaw, forcing you into a kiss. Angry and passionate between both your lips, you tried to back away. You needed air or something to get away from him. Just so you could clear your head. He wouldn’t let go, causing you to sob against him. He pulled you into his chest, pressing your head to listen to his heartbeat. You cried into his shirt, staining it with your tears.

Lifting you to the sink, standing between your open legs he massaged your scalp. Allowing you to cry into his hands. He didn’t try to stop you, only coaxing you to let it all out, reminding you to breathe when you started hiccuping. You weren’t sure how long you cried, but he never left you. Never stopped holding you, kissing your forehead, whispering how much he needed you during the process. Despite his continued movements, your head was pounding. Crying, followed by anxiety attacks and more crying was not giving you the best start to your day. You needed water, a shower and to sleep.

“Please, please stop,” you begged him.

Ren stopped his movements, “What do you need, Angel?”

“Can we shower, and go home?” you heaved, “Please. I need to go home Kylo.”

“Okay.”

-----

Ren showered you, dressed you, and drove you back to the apartment. Neither of you saying a word to each other. Allowing the comfortable silence to bathe the both of you. Once you pulled up to your house he was at your side once more, opening your door and holding your hand up the stairs.

Inside your living room were 6 bodies, hovering over the coffee table. Each one grumbling and laughing with one another like they belonged there. Ren cleared his throat, “We’re back gentlemen. You may resume your posts.”

“Yes, Mr. Ren.” they all spoke in unison. Not one of them looked at you as you clung to his side. Not wanting to get into a petty argument with Ushar or Vicrul after your difficult evening.

“Let’s get you to bed okay, Angel? I have to tie up some loose ends back at the office but the Knights will be here watching over you.”

“Oh, okay,” you whispered. Slowly walking up the stairs. Since your shower, your tattoo has become itchy and hurt even more. Ren wouldn’t allow you to remove the film, telling you that the artist demanded it stay on for another week. That way the skin wouldn’t get infected. Although you hated the tattoo, the last thing you needed was to end up with an infection with your boss’s name on your ribcage.

Ren pulled back the sheets, being sure to guide you to your preferred side of the bed. He tucked you in and sat on the edge of the bed, staring at you. “What are you looking at?”

He sighed, “Just you (Y/N), always you.” he leaned in and gave you a kiss. Getting up and shutting off the lights to your room. Leaving you alone to feel the repercussions of his actions.

TAGLIST: @finn-ray-nal-beads @kirah36 @morby @clumsycopy @onlykyloscenes @candycanes19 @desiraypark @princss-bucky @ghoulian13 @swiss-mrs @douglasdriver @direnightshade @sydneyssmut

#adam driver #kylo ren #kylo x reader #modern kylo ren #kylo trash #Clyde logan #flip zimmerman #charlie barber #phillip altman #toby grisoni #jamie massey

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ladyleahcat · 4 years ago

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Seraphine’s Lore Rework

So.. I have to say that I was really hyped for Seraphine. I followed her in social media and I really liked her design. But, after her lore and abilities were revealed, it just felt... out of place in Runeterra. Her in-game abilities don’t make sense with her natural gift. She doesn't have a grand purpose, or breaking point in her story that motivates her to be... you know, a champion. So, I tried to fix the lore. Please be kind, and let me know what you think (English is not my native language, so there may be some redaction mistakes).

I don't have an extensive knowledge of the LoL universe, so here goes nothing! (I took the official one and changed a little bit too much... I kinda throw away the dream of unity between Zaun and Piltover. And knowing that the Brackerns communicated through MUSIC it´s a fact too rich to ignore. I did a little reseach and took some terms and ideas from Skarner’s short story).

As a child, Seraphine always loved music, especially her father’s lullabies. The songs were beautiful, but sad. He and Seraphine’s mother—two lifelong Zaunites—always dreamt of a better life in the City of Progress. But poor as they were, they did everything they could to give their only child a decent life in Zaun.

Leaning out the window of their hexcoustics workshop, where broken sound tech was made to play again, Seraphine sang along with the dark streets. The constant sound of the leaking pipework, working machinery and wispered conversation was her companion.

Over time, Seraphine realized she could sense songs too private, too personal, for any ordinary person to hear. And as she grew, so did the intensity of her gifts. She heard every person’s soul, loving or cruel—turning the streets she’d once loved into an overwhelming cacophony of conflicting desires. How could she make sense of the voices if none of them harmonized? Some days, she hid shivering in a corner, hands over her ears, unable to hear herself above the chaos and feeling her sanity slowly escape.

Seraphine’s parents couldn’t bear seeing her struggle. Even scraping together their savings, they knew it was not enough to help her. Risking their own safety, they made a deal with powerfull mechants in Zaun´s black market to purchase a shard of a rare hextech crystal. And so, they crafted a device that dampened her magical hearing. For the first time in years, there was silence.

Within that quiet, though, Seraphine heard something—someone. The crystal had a consciousness. But it was hard to hear, and harder to comprehend. Seraphine, awed, asked for guidance. But the crystal refused communication. She made her goal to achieve understanding of this rare soul, but her attempts were interrupted by tragedy.

The debt of the crystal was greater that what her parents could pay, and the mechants, tired of waiting, decided to claim the price in their own way. On the darkest of the nights, the rumbling sound of incessant knocking on the door accompanied by violent threats awoke the family. Taking their few possessions, they intended to flee, but, Seraphine´s father knew they would be followed. Giving his wife and daugther one last kiss, he ordered them to run and never look back, while he faced their attackers. They did, and in the distance the sounds of gunshots rang out. Seraphine was ten when she saw her dad for the last time.

Full of sorrow, the broken family got to Piltover with almost nothing. There were difficult days of cold and hunger until Sera´s mother could grab a job at a hextech workshop, as she refused to sell the crystal, see her child suffer, and let her late husband´s sacrifice go to waste.

Seraphine refused to sing the first months in Piltover, as it didn´t feel like home anymore, and it hurt to much to remember, while she also felt all their disgrace were her fault. One day, through her pain, she finally heard a distant voice. The lethargic soul hidden in the crystal slowly opened up to her. It told her stories and songs of the old brackern race. About how it once was big and respected, and how the greedy softskins destroyed it to gain the power of the crystal namestones hidden within their bodies. Horrified, Seraphine realized how the city that surrounded her was powered by the brackern, and so, she asked the voice why it had decided to share all that information with her. With a kind voice, it answered that she had a unique talent to hear souls and songs, and, that she could understand the pain of loss after what she had been through, just like it had lost its kin a long time ago. Then, the soul inside the crystal proposed a way to help them both.

The brackern knew Seraphine had a gift, and he could teach her to amplify it with magic. To give her voice power, potency and purpose. She could ease, enchant and thrill the crowds, gain fame and fortune, and give her mother a better life. But she could also inflict pain, make suffer and bring death to those who took her father away. The soul only wanted something in return.

There was an old ritual that brackerns knew about. The content of their namestones was to precious to get lost, and they designed a way to bring their race back if something ever went wrong. The proccess requiered to gather a great amount of brackern crystals in a hidden temple within the deserts of old Shurima. But it demanded a great price. The same amount of souls of a single different race in exchange for the awakening of each soul of the dormant one. The brackern wanted them to be human, as it seemed as a fair exchange. The enchanting dreamsong to fulfill the process had to be sung by a representative of each of both races. And she was the perfect candidate of her kin to do so.

Seraphine felt dread all over her body and refused, at first, to cooperate with the crystal; imagining the amount of people she would be required to slay. But as the weeks passed, and she and her mother keep on struggling to survive each day, Seraphine decided to agree to the plan. The brackern teached her a melody to seal their agreement, and with it, theirs souls were bounded to commitement, while allowing their magic to flow and combine. Their practice together begun. Each night, Seraphine grabbed her crystal and escaped to the superficial sewers of Zaun to rehearse. Slowly, she learned to manage the noise. Seraphine felt the crystal´s influence as it helped her understand how to resonate with a crowd, to sing with them, using her dampener less each day. Soon, she realized her full potential, and started to develop dangerous skills as well as the brackern teached her magic enchanting melodies of old. It took them years of practice. When she felt ready, Seraphine asked her mom for help to turn her dampener into an amplifier to test her full abilities.

The first time she performed in front of an audience, testing her skills, she was sixteen, and nervous beyond words. She choose a poor street of Piltover to start. With simple clothes and just her amplifier made of old recicled hextech, she started singing. And soon, a crowd gathered enchanted with her lovely voice and bewitching melodies, as she could take all of their personal songs and hopes to turn them into heart touching harmonies. The first day she collected so many coins that her mother and her were able to buy new things for the first time. With each passing day, the crowds were getting bigger, the profit was growing, allowing her little family to slowly achieve the life they always dreamt of. Still, something was missing—in the crowds, and in herself. She knew her father’s crime was still impune and with each song, his memory was painfully revived. She wanted justice.

Using her newfound richness, Seraphine located the merchants that took her father's life and (by her crystal's indication) collected a vast amount of a very special type of mineral, native from the Shadow Isles. Taking advantage of the cloak of night and her growing abilities, she descended into Zaun to make them pay. She infiltrated their place, lured the group of men and their leader with a beautiful melody and then took their lifes with one of the most complex ancient songs the brackern had teached her. Following the elaborate instructions, she absorbed the bodies and souls of the criminals into some shards of the minerals she brought with her, trapping them forever. These were the first souls she would need for the ritual. Taking advance of her accomplishment, she took all of the remaining brackern crystals keept by the band, and then, her mission started.

Although she felt guilty about her actions, she knew that, finally, she had made justice by her own hand, and had found a purpose for her gifts. The brackern's namestones had been waiting for a long time for someone that could listen their dreamsongs and help, and that was exactly was she was about to do. She was born for it. Seraphine knew there was no way she could take all of the brackern crystals in Runeterra, and that not all human souls are aware of the horrors behind the powerfull fuel of hextech, but there were enough gilty ones that she could execute.

Armed with a platform to keep her precious brackern crystals hidden and safe, and also her trapped human victims, she has become the premier star in both Piltover and Zaun. In the public eye, she uses her playful apearance and beautiful voice to enchant the crowds and win their hearts and favor, while she listens for the brackerns old voices slowly awakening inside their cores and calling out for her, singing gladly their dreamsongs. In the shadows, it´s her duty to retrieve them to safety and trap the souls of those who are greedy enough to collect them. She knows one day, she will gather enought of them to make the journey into Shurima´s desert, looking for the one called Skarner that the ancient spirits talk about and being able to, at last, fulfill her destiny.

(I know it’s not that great, but let me know your thoughts and suggestions :3 ) Disclaimer: These characters belong to Riot Games. I don’t own them, I just did this for fun.

#league of legends #seraphine #lore #skarner #riot #riot games #lol #seradotwav #I just did it for fun and the lolz #I think Sera would be cooler with a better backstory #Skarner deserves better #fan lore #please dont kill me #fangirling me

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sarah-bae-maas · 4 years ago

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Reign of Queens Chapter Three

When Aelin fell through worlds, she never dreamt that she would make it to Erilea alive. Half of her dream became a reality, she was alive, but she certainly wasn’t in Erilea. With foes at every corner and a powerful family ready to cull her for invading the body of a loved one, she has no choice but to play the games of the Night Court until she can figure out how to return home, hopefully without dragging anyone with her.

An AU! where Aelin fell into Prythian by mistake.

Masterlist Ao3

Chapter One Chapter Two

(If you’re wondering why I don’t much anymore, I feel like the audio it’s mental illness innit on TikTok sums it up pretty well. But I’m working on it!)

***

Azriel watched as the women hurried in the direction of the city. The woman, he thought, because that was most definitely not Nesta. He didn’t know how though. Because in a way it was still undeniably her. She smelt the same, she spoke with her usual venom, but Azriel had watched his brother’s mate for many years, and the way she moved was beyond the capabilities of Nesta.

And although her words held malice, he also found himself wanting to laugh with her. Like before, when she’d told Rhys he’d look lovely with a blade him in. Azriel had to forcibly refrain from laughing, and to remind himself that he should not find threats on his brother’s life as funny as he did. Azriel never really felt like laughing when Nesta was around.

He did not fly after her, Not-Nesta was too often searching above her. She was a smart one, too. If she wanted to evade him she could have. He could tell the moment they hit the forest’s edge as they were fighting that she meant to flee into the thicket, and she would have been able to if it had not been for Rhys.

That fight alone was proof enough to Azriel that this wasn’t Nesta. He had never seen some of the techniques used, and he found her a worthy opponent. He also took note of her visceral reaction to a whip, which was unusual considering it was Nesta’s weapon of choice.

Azriel did not want to go to Rhys with his theory until he had either proof or information on what Not-Nesta was up to. He could not so lightly break Cassian’s heart.

Velaris was still hesitant after the evacuation, not as many people milling about. Nesta wove through them without a thought – moving around them with footsteps as light as a dancer.

_____

The library was one of the grandest Aelin had ever seen. Sprawling in large spirals and winding in every direction, she could tell why this would be a solace for the women that worked here. Nesta gave her a brief history on the library’s inhabitants, but even if she hadn’t Aelin would have been able to tell. They had the look to them – that undeniable gleam in their eyes that spoke of trauma, of hardships but survival. It was one Aelin had seen in herself, in Lysandra, in little Evangeline. It was a look no woman or person in Endovier would ever have the chance to have. No person in Terrasen, Erilea, the world once Erawan was done with it. Her throat felt tight, and she rested her hand over her heart as if it might subside the pain. One of the librarians noticed and touched her elbow gently.

“If there anything I can get you, Lady Nesta? The usual?”

“Water would be nice, thank you,” her words blurred.

So you know them well? she asked Nesta. Well enough to have a ‘usual’ at least.

Cassian suggested I get to know them. Grow from them. Learn a little something or two.

Aelin didn’t need to ask why that might have been.

The woman returned and gave her a glass of water. After skulling it, Aelin asked after the book. Nesta had already told her that what you tell these women is always in confidence, and not even Feyre or Rhys would ever reach into their minds for information. It was too much of a violation, apparently. Aelin personally thought doing it on anyone seemed immoral. When Nesta explained Rhys’ magic Aelin had vivid flashbacks of the Valg princes at Mistward – but who was Aelin to judge morality?

“We haven’t had it here for years,” the librarian said apologetically. “The High Lord thought it’s presence made us vulnerable to attack.”

Aelin’s face fell; she felt Nesta sigh in regret.

“However,” she continued, “we have books about that book, and ones that date as far back. And if you have a particular subject in mind, I may be able to find you something with comparable content.”

Aelin gave them something better. She asked for a piece of paper to write on and jotted down a few harmless wyrdmarks. She asked for anything that had those symbols, and they gladly helped. Aelin took a seat, recognizing that although all libraries felt like a little slice of home to her, this was not her forte. And honestly, it was about time there was something she wasn’t at least fantastic at.

Aelin didn’t know if it was because she had been thrust into this world of if it had been from her forced rest, but she was exhausted. Even Nesta was quiet. Her eyes were sore, arms heavy, and her shoulders and neck started to ache.

She rested her head in her hands, her heavy eyelids fluttering. Whenever they closed, she saw the face of Rowan – grave, scared, hopeful. She perfectly saw the set of his jaw, and the twitch to his hands. To anyone else, it might seem like he was showing nothing at all. But she knew him better than that. Between visions of him, she saw Dorian. Both Dorians, now that she knew there were two. Gods, she hoped Dorian was alive and well. And she hoped that Chaol had learnt not to be as emotionally stunted as a pin cushion, so he could help his friend through this time.

Aelin wasn’t quite sure when she fell asleep, only that she was awoken by a slamming hand next to her head.

“Nesta, fancy seeing you here.”

Aelin bolted upright and turned to sneer at Azriel, who was closely followed by Rhysand. They both looked well, and although Rhysand was scowling, Azriel looking down-right jovial. An act, if his hard-set jaw was anything to go by.

“What brings you to the library?” Aelin asked casually, as though she didn’t still have drool on her face from her nap and tangles in her hair from where she had pulled at it in her sleep.

“Wanted to do some light reading,” Rhys said, his eyes glowing with something Aelin couldn’t name.

“What about you, Nesta? It’s been months since you’ve come here for a social chat.” Azriel’s hands were fisted too, even if his body was relaxed.

“Keeping tabs on me?” Aelin sneered. Good thing she had spent half her life learning how to talk to pompous men with big bank accounts and bigger egos, otherwise she might grovel at their unworthy feet. Instead, she presented herself as a challenger – as she knew Nesta would.

Azriel looked at her – dumbfounded. “Yes. Yes I am.”

Aelin didn’t expect such an honest reply.

“Don’t you want to know how he is?” Rhys questioned, stepping to Azriel’s side, one of his hands going to his shoulder.

“You look ravishing Azriel, your arm healed nicely I assume. Fae blood does such wonders.”

Aelin knew she had said something wrong the moment the words fae blood left her mouth. Nesta, who before now had chosen to stay out of this interaction, cursed.

Azriel shared a look with Rhys.

“I was not asking about me,” was not what Aelin thought Rhys would say. “I meant Cassian. You haven’t asked how he is.”

Azriel isn’t a fae you dumb fuck. He’s an Illyrian, so is Cassian, and so was Rhys’s mother.

Aelin coughed at the name. It wasn’t something she’d never been called before, but to hear it so softly spoken as though it were a fact was quite jarring.

And ask about Cassian. Please. I need to know he’s okay.

Aelin did just that, and Rhys practically glared at Azriel as he answered. “He’s worried, and Feyre is beside herself.”

“She’s thirty weeks pregnant, it’s to be expected that she’s emotional.” Repeating facts was good, showing them that she knew things was good. Calling Azriel a fae had been a strong misstep, one hopefully redacted as a slip of the tongue.

“The baby has nothing – Nesta, what are you doing?” Rhys glanced behind her, taking a peek at the books the librarians had procured for her. Books and – and cookies, bless their hearts.

“Some light reading. Which I was hoping to do in peace, if you would politely leave.”

Good luck trying to get HigH LoRd RhYSanD to do anything. He’s so stubborn he makes you look reasonable. Ask more about Cassian. Ask if he’s still going to Illyria today.

“Is Cassian still going to Illyria today? Maybe you could join him. He might actually like being in your presence.” Aelin smiled sweetly at the two men, trying to distract them from the books she was subtly trying to push aside.

“Cassian has decided to stay home, in case you need him,” Azriel said slowly, carefully deciding his words. Aelin tilted her head, studying him. He was quite beautiful, the kind of beautiful that would have made her do reckless things in her youth. And the darkness that surrounded him… although personified in the male in front of her, it reminded her so much of her Rowan that she wanted to scream. What had become of her in her own realm? What horror was Rowan facing alone? When she did what she did, she did so knowing that she would die. This was infinitely worse in some ways – she had no idea what was now happening at home. Was she comatose? Was she dead, and this was the afterlife?

And a possibility she didn’t want to linger on. That she could go back and be with him. But only if she made it in time. She knew Rowan better than she knew herself, and she ached at the possibility of what he might do if he lost another mate.

He might just try to join her in a death she hadn’t yet been granted, and she couldn’t exist in any version of reality that didn’t have Rowan in it.

That is how I feel about Cassian. He is everything to me, Nesta confessed, the words honest and strained. Tell them they should make him go. He needs a distraction, and I don’t want him seeing me like this. Azriel may assume I’m on a bender, and I don’t think I could cope if Cassian thought the same. Azriel and Rhys would feed him that lie. I fucking know they would.

“He should go. He has so much to do, and I don’t want him lingering and worrying,” Aelin said, looking down to try and seem more passive. Maybe if they thought her harmless, they would leave her be even if something was wrong.

“We tried. He doesn’t want to leave you.”

His gallantry was noted and would otherwise be appreciated. It was also clear he wasn’t the only stubborn Illyrian Nesta knew. The two in front of her wouldn’t budge even if it meant saving themselves from her wrath.

I don’t think they respect you very much, she told Nesta.

I prefer fear anyway.

Aelin hummed.

“Something funny?” Rhys asked, pulling up a seat beside her and swiping one of her cookies.

“I was just thinking… maybe I will go home. Make sure he’s okay.”

What? Why are you doing that? He’ll figure you out, idiot. Or worse, he’ll think I’m on the piss.

Aelin picked up the books, hoping she would be allowed to take the volumes home with her. There, they would leave her be. She just had to hope that if Cassian really was Nesta’s Rowan, then he would love her enough to keep her secrets. Aelin had the whole walk home to think of a lie extravagant enough to get them all off her back and figure out how to ask Cassian to not mention her new choice in genre. Something told Aelin these books differed from the obvious romance titles that lined Nesta’s personal shelves.

I’ll help you, Nesta said. If only so you leave quicker.

#rowaelin #nessian #tog #kingdom of ash #a court of silver flames #acotar #fanfic #feysand #acowar

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