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3amfanfiction · 2 months ago

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Simon Finds a Toy

You had just moved to town when the serial killer who was passing through takes a shine to you. Simon/Reader, 3.5k

18+ cw: kidnapping, hobbling, spanking, animal death

March is practically over when everything goes wrong.

Running through an abandoned warehouse avoiding bodies was not how you saw your evening going.

When the first of you began disappearing into the dark, no one noticed. You didn't all know each other, it was one of those friend of a friend types of gatherings, with everyone separating into pre-formed cliques within the first hour.

It was a younger guy who had suggested exploring the old building a mile down the road—no surprise there. Per his words, he fancied himself an urban explorer. You hadn't seen him since the beginning, one of the first to go missing.

You weren't even supposed to be here tonight! You'd just moved into town and you were trying to make friends. When the pretty girl at the bakery invited you to hang out, you thought you were good. That maybe life wasn't so hard and setting down roots wasn't impossible.

Stupid—tempting the universe like that.

Whoever this guy was, he was massive. The kind of massive where if he barreled into you, you would be pancaked. You had watched him take a bear of a man (Jeremy? Jason? Maybe—all you can remember is he said he was a footballer) out half an hour ago—lifted, bent, and broken all in one smooth, brutal move.

It was as awe-inspiring as it was fear-inducing.

So you run.

You run and you hide until you're backed into a corner. He's found every other person and now it's your turn. You're bleeding and bruised, aching where you slammed into sharp corners and machinery in the dark.

This is it, the climax of your story, is anyone surprised that you run your mouth a little? You don't hold back as you tell him everything you think about him, every new fucked up thing this evening had presented, every grievance ever buried down under the veneer of civility.

Why is he just staring? You're caught, nowhere to go, and he's just … looking. He's got shark eyes—pools of inky black that suck you in. Drowning.

He decides to take you home with him.

This has to be a joke.

///

April brings cruelty in its change, where you're expected to learn the shape of the season.

Stop messing with these knots or you won't like the consequences.

How were you supposed to know this is what he meant? He said it exactly once; the first night in the truck when he hopped out after hours of driving just to find you with the rope halfway undone, eyes glaring at him from above your gag.

He grunted out his warning while retying it, calm as you please, as if it wasn't a bother to him one way or the other.

Looking back at it he was probably hoping you would ignore the warning, the psychopath.

The next morning he had to tighten them again after your long night spent fiddling but he didn't say anything—just adjusted the knots and walked back around to continue the drive. He hadn't stopped that day other than for gas and one bathroom break on the side of a cracked and potholed back road, where if there had been any traffic, they would've gotten quite the show.

He didn't even have the decency to take you into the trees.

You had gotten one hand completely out of the hog tie by the time you two reached your destination; this little tin-roofed shed with just enough room for him to pull all the way in and close the doors behind him was the only building you'd seen in hours.

He doesn't address your unbound hand—simply refastens it into the tie while ignoring how you had removed the cloth gag with your partial freedom. What follows is the culmination of days worth of you sitting in enforced silence, thinking up every creative thing you could call him. Unfortunately he ignores you cussing him out, and throws you over his shoulder to begin his trek through the woods.

He doesn't seem to mind you screaming your head off, at least other than making sure you don't do it directly in his ear. That got a sharp adjustment of your torso across his shoulder; your grunting wheeze in response not very demure.

Now you're here—staring at your hands. Or rather, your thumbs and where they were taped in little braces to stop you from moving them. Sweat and dirt making the skin itch beneath the bandages.

He told you you wouldn't like the consequences. He TOLD you. Did you think he was lying?

Well—kind of, yeah. What sort of monster breaks someone's thumbs?

Your stare turns into a glare, unseeing of anything around you until a heavy hand landing on your shoulder makes you jerk in surprise.

"Leave it, pet. No use thinking on it now," is grumbled down at you before he huffs in something resembling amusement as you lean sideways, trying to get out from underneath his grasp.

You've been waiting for the day when he loses his patience and murders you too, but it hasn't happened yet. Maybe he finds it entertaining when you act like a kicked dog around him.

Which is a funny thought considering he has a dog that damn near idolizes him.

He ignores him most of the time—takes care to feed and water him but that's the extent. No scratches behind the ear, no tummy rubs, no kisses between the ears. As if you needed another reason to hate this guy.

You watch him put together three plates, two in bowls and one on some kind of wooden board. You snort to yourself when you think of this guy enjoying a charcuterie board, ignoring him when he cocks an eyebrow back at you, waiting for an explanation that won't come.

At least you've gotten better at keeping your expression blank when he sets the two bowls on the floor, before taking his charcuterie board wanna-be into the dining room.

Asshole.

///

May saw flowers blooming and lessons learned.

You have use of your thumbs again. That's a win.

Puttering around this stupid cabin is driving you insane. You've learned a few things since you've been here—his name is Simon, he's military, he murders people in his free time, and his dog's name is Dog.

Fucking. Psychopath.

You're not allowed outside. Simon had told you this as he was unwrapping your thumbs for the last time, break yer ankles if ya even try f'r the door. So you don't. You make your displeasure known in other ways, pushing to see where the lines are, so you know where to press to cause the most damage.

He annoyingly stoic. Nothing you say seems to get a rise out of him and other than breaking an established rule—don't touch the rope, don't go outside, don't try and stab him with a kitchen knife—he leaves you to your own devices.

He's always around, hovering. He responds if you talk to him civilly, ignores you if you scream at him, and bends you over his knee if you start swinging.

The cup you threw at his head was ugly anyways.

You screamed yourself hoarse that first time he pulled you across his lap, other leg pinning yours down with a forearm pressed between your shoulder blades. You thrashed but could barely move, well and truly immobilized.

You began pleading as your pants were pulled down, begging him not to touch you, telling him you were sorry. He acted like he couldn't hear you.

The first slap was more shocking than anything. Your voice caught on a hiccup of air as his palm made contact, the fat around his strike rippling. You don't get a moment to process before he's smacked you three more times, alternating cheeks.

Eons later, after he's reached whatever preconceived end he had decided on, you're a limp, sobbing mess, your face pressed into the cushions, great gasping sobs rolling their way out of your chest.

He cleans your face before applying cooling balm to your skin and that was a greater gut punch than the spanking had been. He doesn't get to be both—he doesn't get to hit you over and over again and then hold the tissue while you blow your nose. You can't handle him being both.

You don't sit comfortably for days and a new rule is created—don't throw things inside the cabin.

///

You're allowed to eat at the table with him now, no more guarding your bowl from Dog who was surprisingly nimble. Simon and Dog have the same conversational aptitude so at least you can eat in peace.

That's another good thing he has going for him (are you going to go to hell for thinking of good qualities in a murderer?) he never stints on portion sizes.

You were quite pleased to realize you had stayed delightfully soft over the past couple of months. Locked in the cabin as you are, the only exercise you've gotten is for your tongue, which has been honed razor sharp by this point with the vitriol that never seems to cause as much damage as intended.

He was a decent cook too. Nothing insane, his meals were basic and limited by what he had stored in his kitchen and cellar, but you hadn't had a bad meal yet.

He left sometimes to restock. Or for other excursions. When it came time for him to leave you would be moved to the bedroom, regardless of how much you kicked and snarled, and a leg chain would be connected to a hook under the bed.

Those days were some of the worst. If he noticed the salt crusting the bed when he eventually returned he never said anything.

///

June saw the temperatures rise, tensions following suit.

You don't like to think about the start of summer.

You had a nervous breakdown one day when the heat was intense. Simon had gone to pick up food and he had left you unchained. You were standing in the living room, looking at the front door, free to walk through it whenever you wanted.

So why were you standing here?

Simon would be upset if you left the cabin. Its one of the rules, don't go outside, that you're supposed to follow. There are consequences if you don't follow the rules.

You ignore the tremble in your knees as your fingernails dig crescents into your palms, the door taunting you with its presence. You could do it; you should do it. Run. Get away, get to the police, have him thrown in jail.

You're going insane, you're losing your mind. Is any of this even real? Why are you still standing here?

In an attempt to get yourself out of the standstill you were in, you forced yourself to take a few trembling steps . . . towards the kitchen where you got yourself a glass of water, and ignored the door behind you that was taunting you by calling your name.

You taught Dog a few tricks instead.

Nothing crazy—sit, lay down, shake. Still, you were pretty proud. Something good came out of this.

You didn't make eye contact with Simon for a week once he was back.

///

July is sunburns and fingermarks left where you touch him.

All you see is Simon, he's all you talk to (that sometimes talks back), all you hear. Is it any surprise you said fuck it?

You remember reading something once that said humans required touch, if they didn't get it they'd go crazy. Heh. Maybe that's what happened to Simon, living up here in this cabin, hard to have anybody to touch.

So you bend first; you always bend first with Simon. Every day with him is a yielding in one way or another. You're not sure if you even know how to stand upright any longer.

It starts with a pat on the shoulder.

He had brought you back a puzzle book from his last murder spree. Some giant workbook with a dozen different types of puzzles. If you had any dignity left it would've been lost at how excited you got for that puzzle book.

So, you thanked him. You took the book, patted him on the shoulder, and then went to sit at the table to play with your new entertainment. Simple, simple, simple.

So explain how you ended up here.

Don't swallow, keep your throat open for me, don't you fucking swallow—fuck, fuck, fuck.

///

August was a sticky heat and you were careful not to dig too deep.

You had to butcher your first animal at the end of the summer months.

Simon was out on a short trip when the dog caught a fox. He came dragging it in just like his papa, proud of the innocent blood dripping from between his jaws, his own muzzle bleeding where sharp teeth and claws had sank in.

When you pried it from his teeth, you realized the fox was still breathing, little heart thrumming against your fingertips, vibrating at an almost continuous hum.

The dog's fangs had punctured its stomach. Organs and muscles ruptured and bleeding. Another mark in the 'just like papa' column. Not decent enough to kill cleanly. Have to play in it, enjoy it.

You knew what you needed to do but still you hesitated. Weren't you going to attempt to save it? It's what you would've done before. Before Simon, before this cabin, before the nightmares.

One hand held it firmly, keeping it from attacking out of fear or pain while you softly dragged the other through the damp fur of its back, attempting any sort of comfort.

You could see yourself in it; living your life with your own sharp little teeth as protection until something bigger came along. Something that saw you and decided you would taste best in its maw, your blood coating its throat.

It drug you as a prize back to its home, uncaring of the blood you leaked on the floor, the bile you spit at its feet. You wondered if it would hurt less, to be the dog.

You did the fox a favor when you sliced its neck. No more pain.

///

September saw the leaves changing and witnessed your further plummet into Simon's orbit.

He had been home for weeks. Continuously. No little camping trips, no missions, nothing. He was beyond pissed but it was his own damn fault for getting stabbed in the leg.

You had cackled when he came limping in, blood oozing through the fabric he'd tied tightly around the wound. Looks like his latest quarry had sharper teeth than he realized. Good for them.

Stitching him up was repugnant—he laughed in your face when you gagged at the blood that coated you up to your forearms and were thankful to wrap him up and be done with it so you could bathe. The blood left a stubborn stain under your fingernails for days.

After weeks of him following you around—touching you constantly, sticking his fingers in your mouth or in your cunt whenever he liked, eating the food you made for yourself—you were fit to burst.

Go find your next plaything, just get him out of my hair!

///

October saw the trees shedding their leaves, their bare branches showing through. It saw you without a mask of your own.

You were allowed outside when Simon was home. It had been such a subtle decline, you thinking of escaping, that you didn't notice it's absence until now, when you were watching the cold sun create shadows on the ground with no desire to wander father than the front porch.

You were allowed outside, you were no longer chained up when he left, you could leave. You could pack a bag, pick a direction, and walk. For however long you needed to.

But.

It was getting colder at night. You'd be out there for days if not weeks before you found a road to follow if you were lucky. Plus you had no idea which direction to go. What if you ended up deeper in the mountains?

What if you continued to lie to make yourself feel better?

///

November saw the winds begin to howl with your feral side howling along, music in the dark.

Simon was gone—getting the last of his energy out before you were snowed into the cabin with the winter storms that were starting up. The eerie howling having long become a background echo in your ears.

Dog had been acting strange all day. Staring out the windows, growling at the door, barking when the trees brushed the roof. You'd let him out to check several times but he always came back inside after circling the cabin.

Strange.

The sun had almost set when you saw movement outside the window, a dark mass moving between the trees, too deep in the dusk to make out.

Dog hadn't come back yet from his last perimeter check, leaving you alone inside the cabin. You watched out the window for several long moments, only hearing the wind moving through the trees.

A loud bang on the opposite side of the cabin had you looking away from the window with a start; when you looked back after a few short seconds, the shape was gone—faded back into the trees.

Your heart pounded in your chest, mouth drying up and palms becoming damp. You ducked out of sight of the window and creeped into the kitchen, pulling one of Simon's knives out of the knife block.

One benefit to living with a serial killer, his knives were always in pristine condition. You know if you needed to stab someone, this knife would be slicing through them like butter.

Pressing into a corner, your mind spun in rabid circles. Who was that outside? How did they find the cabin? Were they there to hurt you? Dog never came back in. What if they murdered him and left his body to rot in the leaves? Dog was a good boy, he didn't deserve that.

You gripped the knife tightly, steadying your nerves. You weren't going to be the victim again. You'd been there, done that and you knew how it played out. When (if you told yourself, it might not happen, they might leave, there might not be anyone out there) they came through the door, you would defend yourself. If someone came through that door, it means they killed Dog and they will be coming for you.

You took a deep breath while wedged into the corner with the door firmly in sight, holding your knife in front of you, ready to attack. You would do it. If they thought you wouldn't, they're about to be too dead to relearn.

The door opens between one heartbeat and the next, the wind's grasping fingers catching, causing it to slam back against the wall, a dark hulking mass standing on the doorstep. You pounce, screaming like a wild thing, knife flashing through the air. They snatch your wrist and wrench it behind your back, kicking the knife away.

Thought we were past this, pet.

Oh. It's just Simon.

The following let down had your body shaking like you'd spent all night out in the cold. Tremors wracked you from head to toe as you tried not to think about how readily you'd been to commit murder.

The last few moments replayed in your head as you breathed in a controlled manner, attempting to regain control of your body. It's only Simon, it's only Simon you repeat to yourself, self soothing, it's only Si—what?

Since when has the fact that it's Simon been comforting? Have you forgotten what he did to you?

No, of course not. You hadn't forgotten. You knew Simon wasn't the good guy of the story. You were simply happy for the devil you knew . . . right?

///

December saw the snow begin to fall, walls following suit.

Simon finished last minute preparations around the cabin, within ears reach all day, every day. You spent a lot of time trailing after him, watching him work. Helping occasionally when he'd hold out nails for you to pass him as needed, or holding a board steady as he cut.

You asked him questions—things you hadn't bothered wondering before, how long have you lived up here, do you have any family, what do you do for your job?

He answered truthfully, as far as you could tell. It made you offer pieces of yourself in return.

///

January saw the snow pack everything in, forced proximity tightening bonds.

You and Simon spent all day together, every day. He never ran out of stories to tell you about his past mission or murdering sprees. Listening to him talk, you realized he really did get rid of the annoying ones first. A strange thought to have with no feelings attached—you didn't even notice their absence.

///

February was dark. February was cold. Hadn't it always been you and simon?

///

March saw the snow melting, the sun waking earlier each day. When Simon left to stretch his legs, March saw a second body following along behind him.

Story Repository || Main Repository

#simon ‘ghost’ riley x reader #ghost simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley x you #he collects you like a rock on the side of the road #fanfic #my work

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ernestoednrec · 20 days ago

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Nuevos Vans Classics Tenis Old Skool Verde modelo 8CIB

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sea-lanterns · 1 year ago

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FRIDAY THE 13TH

synopsis: (slasher! AU) the camp urban legend is real...?!

featuring: raiden ei

rating: 18+ smut (men and minors dni)

warnings: sub! afab fem reader, blood, violence, murder, gory descriptions of death, dru.gging, stalking, mentions of child death, mentions of drowning, slow burn, fing.ering, size kink, fondling, ni.pple play, rough se.x, marking, hickies, pwp, might be ooc.

art credits: chainsaw man

“Legend has it that a camper at Camp Crystal Lake drowned after a couple of counselors left their posts to go make out in their cabins. When the kid drowned, they said her vengeful spirit haunts Camp Crystal Lake, killing horny counselors who abandon their duties to act on their lust, and—”

“Oh shut up, that’s just an urban legend…!”

As your coworkers bickered over the hazy campfire, you speared another marshmallow onto your stick and started roasting the sugary confection in silence. It was the early days of June, cicadas buzzing in the distance as you and a few other adults were hired to work at Camp Crystal Lake as counselors. You were tasked with getting the camp ready before the next group of campers arrived next week, so the camp grounds were mostly empty with the exception of you and your colleagues.

“Hey, hey, you think the legend is real?” One of your friends nudged you, taking a bite out of her s’mores. “Do you think a ghost is really haunting the lake?”

“Of course not.” You chuckled softly, groaning when you saw your marshmallow catch on fire. “It’s probably just a story the owner told us so we don’t abandon our jobs. We’re here to watch the kids, remember? Not have sex with each other.”

“Oh, you’re no fun.” Another guy butts in, smirking and wrapping an arm around you. “The owner isn’t here tonight, so we could all have fun before he gets back.”

You made an annoyed expression when he touched you, slowly prying his arm off and giving him a scowl. “Hands off.” You say with a frown, threatening him to not touch you again.

“Geez, okay…okay…” he quickly retracts his hand, but that arrogant smile is back on his face. “No need to be so bitchy…”

If you could throw a machete at him, you would, but for now all you could do was seethe in silence as you wave your marshmallow around to extinguish the flame. “I think I’m gonna go take a shower,” you say before getting up. “If we stay out any longer, we’ll be drenched in rain. The weather forecast said there was a thunderstorm coming over the area.”

“Yeah yeah…” a lot of your colleagues waved you off and you sighed before packing up your things. No one really listened to what you had to say, and while it did bug you, you knew it would bite them in the ass later when their campfire gets rained on. You left the bustling group to head back to your old, rickety cabin. The camp has definitely seen better days, but you knew better than to complain. So long as you had electricity, some heating, and warm water, you were good to go.

“Ugh…so sticky…” you mumbled to yourself as you scratched at a mosquito bite you had gotten while outside. The sweat and humidity of being out in the woods was starting to get to you, and you couldn’t wait to take a decent shower the moment you stepped into the bathroom.

Slowly slipping out of your clothes, you played around with the water temperatures until it was at the perfect temperature for you to get in. As you did however, you began to hear the light pitter patter of rain outside, chuckling to yourself as you imagined the distraught faces of your coworkers yelling in annoyance. ‘That’ll teach ‘em…’ you thought to yourself, squirting some shampoo into your palm. ‘Maybe next time they’ll listen to me when I say it’s gonna rain.’

You heard the distraught screaming of your coworkers in the distance and sighed with the pleasure of knowing you were right. Combing your hands through your scalp, you hummed to yourself before a particularly loud lightning strike boomed across the camp, startling you a bit as it came so suddenly and knocked all the power out.

‘Bzzzt.’

“…Dammit.”

You let out a sigh and quickly washed your head clean before grabbing a towel to dry yourself off. No way in hell were you going to shower in pitch dark blackness. It’s dangerous and plus, you were a little creeped out with being naked and alone in the dark.

“I swear, this camp is on its last wire…” you groaned, fumbling around for some clothes and putting them on as best as you can. You wanted to make sure some of your colleagues were alright and pushed open the door to your main cabin. “Is everyone okay—”

Your eyes widened when you saw that no one else was in your cabin. Your roommates were nowhere to be seen, and you thought they had gone inside already due to the rain.

“…What the.” You fumbled around towards your backpack and grabbed the spare flashlight you had in there for emergencies. “Guys? You aren’t back yet?”

You flipped the flashlight on and shone it across the room. There weren’t any traces of your roommates even making it back to the cabin. No wet footprints, no shoes by the door, nothing. “Are they seriously still out there?” You groaned, grabbing one of your raincoats and putting it on. “I swear, if I have to be the one to check the power box…”

You frowned and checked outside the window to see if you could find anyone coming back from the lake. When all you saw were the empty campgrounds however, you started getting a bit worried, wondering if something happened to your colleagues while camping out by the lake.

‘Oh god…did someone get injured?’ You couldn’t help but grow curious and swallow any fear you had left, opening the door to head outside, and see if everyone was alright. The air had gone from humid to wet, as your body was instantly pelted with summer rain that had you wincing slightly in disgust. You just showered, and the feeling of going out in humidity again made your skin crawl with discomfort.

“Just a quick check…and then I’ll go back inside…” Your flashlight helped you see through the dark as you made your way down to the campfire by the beach. The flame was long extinguished by the time you got down there, as the only thing left was rising smoke, and a dozen empty chairs.

“…Guys?” The sight of the empty chairs made your skin crawl, taking note of how everyone’s stuff was still left scattered about. “Oh my god…”

You felt goosebumps litter your arms as you slowly shone your flashlight over the shore. It was dead quiet save for your breathing, and you slowly walked closer to the campsite only to stop dead in your tracks.

You wanted to scream. You wanted to scream so bad you couldn’t believe what you saw was real.

One of your coworkers was lying dead against the shore, her eyes wide open as blood seeped from a wound she acquired on her head. It was a deep, angry red gash that gushed so much blood you couldn’t even recognize her face, some of the rain sliding down her cheeks but unable to wash it fully.

“Oh…god…” you covered your mouth to keep yourself from screaming. Every instinct in your body told you to cry for help, but knowing that there was an active danger on the campgrounds, you decided to keep silent and quickly hid behind a large bush to stay away from the open.

‘Crap…crap…crap…’ you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to will away the traumatic sight of your dead colleague. The image of her lifeless eyes making your stomach churn with anxiety as you took heavy breaths to calm yourself down. ‘This isn’t real…this can’t be real…’

You took another quick glance at the body and cursed yourself for looking once again. Your chest hurt from the fear you felt at that very moment, and you decided you had to call the authorities to the camp right away.

Slowly getting up from your hiding spot, you carefully made your way over to the generator building to see if you could fix the power. Since the power was down, you were unable to call the authorities until it somehow came back up again. Unfortunately for you however, you had no time to wait, and had to go manually check it yourself in order to get help.

‘Why is it always me…’ you winced, hurriedly making your way over to the generators and trying to be as stealthy as possible. After a long trek through the woods, you finally came across the generators’ building in the far back side of the camp, the door cracked open slightly and swaying back and forth in the breeze.

Your heart stopped when you saw that someone had managed to get in, and although the most logical assumption would be that one of your colleagues had gone in to fix the power, you were too scared to check as you wondered if the killer that murdered your friend was in there. ‘I don’t want to take any chances…’ you thought, quickly backing away from the building and deciding to head back to your cabin to barricade yourself in.

Whatever is happening on camp grounds can be dealt with by the police. You had to get yourself somewhere safe, and although you could always try to run for it, the camp was over ten miles away from the nearest town, a distance you couldn’t possibly cover in the dead of night, under the rain, and only in your PJs…

“I just need to hide until morning…or at least until the rain stops…” you mutter to yourself, finding your way back to your cabin and locking it up once you are safe inside. You decided the best course of action would be to barricade all your furniture against the door and check the bathroom window to see if it was locked. Not wasting another second, you ran over to your dresser and pushed your body up against it, slowly pushing it against the door in hopes of providing a stable barricade.

‘Alright, that should be enough for now…’ you wiped the sweat off your brow and walked over to the bathroom door, twisting the knob to check if the windows were locked.

“…What the.” The door didn’t budge as you tried to push the door open, something heavy preventing you from opening the door. “Why won’t you…move—!”

With a bang, you shoved the door open, only to let out a shriek of terror as the body of one of your roommates fell out and landed at your feet. Her head had a nasty gash emitting blood from it, and the smell of iron quickly filled your nostrils which caused you to hunch over in nausea. “Oh…oh my god—!” You immediately backed up away from the sight, only to have your back collide with the front of someone very large and very tall…

Upon feeling someone firm right behind you, your entire body froze as fear paralyzed your brain. You could feel it. Someone behind you, someone who was in your cabin the whole time, as you failed to check all closets for the possibility of someone hiding.

“…Crap.” You let out a small squeak and gasped when the person behind you wrapped a broad arm around your waist, encircling you like the prey you were, and making you feel weak and helpless under their grasp. “…Please don’t hurt me, I��I…”

Your eyes widened when you suddenly felt a wet rag cover your mouth, your throat letting out several muffled screams, as the smell of something foreign entered your nose and knocked you out.

The last thing you felt before you blacked, was the feeling of strong arms hoisting you up into the air, and draping you over someone’s broad shoulders…

You had no idea how much time had passed. Your head was throbbing, and your stomach was doing flips when you finally came to your senses. From what you could feel, you were on some mattress on the ground, located in some abandoned shed, as you realized you were somewhere not in your cabin…

Every inch of your body was sore from the chloroform, your senses all drugged up as you groggily looked around at your surroundings. Your heart nearly stopped when you saw a woman in the corner busy sharpening her machete, her back turned to you as she didn’t notice you waking up from your slumber. You had to get out of here, and if you could somehow sneak by the woman without her noticing, you could try and book it to the next town over, not caring about how long it took.

Taking a shallow breath, you were about to begin sneaking away, when the woman suddenly turned around and made dead eye contact with you.

What the fuck.

Adrenaline coursed through your entire body as you saw the woman’s appearance for the very first time. She was tall, accompanied by an athletic figure that hunched over you in a way that made you feel incredibly weak. What was most noticeable about her however, was the chipped, bloody hockey mask she wore to obscure her identity. Her breathing came out in ragged, heavy pants as she stared at you with the look of a predator ready to take its next prey.

“I…uh…” you couldn’t bring yourself to move. Fingers trembling the longer you stared. “I’m sorry for anything I might’ve done to anger you. I didn’t mean to discover the body…I just…I wanted to be safe…and…”

You squeaked when she leaned closer, her figure towering over yours as you had no choice but to lean back against the bed. She was so, so close, breathing heavily above you as all you could see was her hockey mask and her ridiculously shiny machete. “Ah…I’m sorry…” you meekly said again, tears beginning to spill out of your eyes and leak past your chin. “I don’t want to die now…I didn’t even get to start my job…”

You sniffed and closed your eyes, bracing for the impact of the machete hitting your face, only to grow confused when it never came.

“…Huh?”

Instead, what touched your face was the warm, gentle caress of the killer woman in front of you. Her large, calloused hands moving up to wipe your tears away, as she hushed for you to calm down with that quiet voice of hers.

“…Don’t cry.” She says in a muffled voice, leaning back to grab something from a jar. “Candy.”

She extends her hand out to you and holds out a little wrapped candy for you to take, acting all nonchalant as if she didn’t just brutally massacre your roommate right in front of you.

“…I, uh…”

Sensing your hesitance, the masked woman gently nudged the candy against your cheek. “Candy.” She repeated, tilting her head a little when you didn’t take it. “…Do you not like candy?”

“Oh. Well…” you were growing confused at the escalating conversation, unsure if this was a trick or some kind of ploy to get you to trust her. “…Thank you?”

In the end, you decided to play along and take the candy offered from her hand. Seeing how you accepted her gift, she nodded and reached over to pat your head like a little puppy, clearly happy with the way you allowed her to treat you. Now that you are no longer crying, the masked killer stands up and goes back to sharpening her machete, leaving you alone and puzzling you once more with how gentle she was being in comparison to the other people.

I mean, just a few hours ago she had brutally murdered most —if not all— your coworkers in the camp you were supposed to work at. How is it that she was being so gentle with you now? Was there something special to you that made her become so lenient?

“…” A deft silence overcame the two of you and you had no choice but to look around the shed in curiosity. Noticing a faded newspaper by your feet, you reached down to pick it up and read the blaring headline on the front.

“Kid drowns at Camp Crystal Lake due to negligent counselors.”

Your eyes widen slightly once you read it, your coworker’s faint recalling of the urban legend playing back on your mind.

“A girl identified as Raiden Makoto was found dead after she drowned in Camp Crystal Lake waters. No lifeguards or counselors were seen at the time of the drowning, and she was confirmed dead due to negligence of Camp Crystal Lake staff.”

Besides the text was a faded photo of a young girl with long, purple, braided hair. She smiled so beautifully at the camera, so youthful and innocent. Her death was so abrupt, and you couldn’t help but feel bad as you realized the supposed urban legend was actually true.

…However, the longer you stared at the faded photo, the more you began to realize how similar she looked to the masked woman in front of you. That long, purple, braided hair matched the hair of the woman sharpening her machete, and you swallowed in realization of the discovery you had just made.

“You’re…the kid who drowned all those years ago.” You say softly, looking up at the woman. “You’re Raiden Makoto.”

You could visibly see the woman tense up, slowly turning around to face you. With a few heavy footsteps, she walks over to you once more and shakes her head no, pointing at the girl in the photo.

“My sister.” Is all she says, looking down at you with that solemn expression.

“…Your sister?” Your eyes lit up and you suddenly felt a wave of guilt. “I’m…I’m so sorry for your loss.”

The woman in front of you tilted her head slightly, as if comprehending the fact you actually felt sorry for her. “…It’s okay.” She says calmly, patting your head once more and taking the newspaper from your hands. “I got my revenge.”

Your eyes lit up when she said that, and the pieces slowly fell into place.

“…So, that’s why you’ve been killing my coworkers.” Your breath trembled as full realization came to your senses. “You’ve been killing all the counselors at Camp Crystal Lake…for your sister…”

The masked woman nods slowly and kneels down in front of you so she could be eye level with your face. Your sense of fear was slowly dying down, and you couldn’t help but think the woman was a bit cute with the way she was presenting herself in front of you. “…Is there a reason you haven’t killed me?” You ask softly, keeping a level tone so you wouldn’t startle her.

The woman nods once more, patting your head and lowering her gaze.

“You are nice.” She says calmly, rubbing the top of your head with her palm, “And responsible…and pretty…”

Your cheeks flushed a little when she called you pretty.

“You think I’m pretty?” You asked gently.

The woman nods.

“Oh…” your face burns hotter at the compliment and you couldn’t help but smile slightly. “What’s your name, if I may ask?”

“…Ei.” She says quietly, almost a bit hesitant with the way she paused. “Raiden Ei.”

“Ei…” the way you said her name sent shivers down her spine. The fact that her name was being uttered by a beautiful girl like you was enough to get the killer to swoon. “I like that name.”

Ei looked up at you with the most adoring of eyes. Even though her hockey mask covered up most of her expressions, you could tell you hit a soft spot with the way she looked at you with such loving eyes.

“I like you.” She says calmly, leaning down to stare at you a bit closer, almost towering over you to the point she was pinning you to the bed. “…You are…sweet. Like candy.”

You unconsciously let out a small giggle at her words. Somehow you had forgotten she was an insane, brutal serial killer, but all that melted away with the way she looked at you so lovingly. “Can I…see your face?” You asked tenderly, hesitantly reaching a hand up to caress her blood-stained mask. Ei flinched a little when she felt you reaching for her mask, as she had never let anyone get so close to her without dying. She looked conflicted, silently panicking on what to do as she didn’t want to horrify you with her face and scare you off.

Sensing her hesitance, you smiled comfortingly and cupped her mask. “I won’t judge you,” you say calmly, trying to soothe the woman’s fears and insecurities. “If you aren’t comfortable, I won’t pry it off you.”

As you moved your hand away however, you suddenly felt Ei’s hand wrap around yours, almost begging for you to come back.

“W-Wait…” her voice cracked slightly and she shyly moves your hand back to rest on her mask. “I want…I want to…”

You blush at the way she’s calling for you, shakily moving your other hand to grasp at the back of her mask. Your breathing was quick and shallow, the position between you two a lot more intimate than what you were used to. “O…Okay…”

With a steady hand, you unclasped the back of her hockey mask and watched as it gently fell from her face. A gasp caught itself in your throat, as you admired the slasher’s face in all its bare beauty.

Ei was beautiful.

“You’re…quite the sight,” you chuckle softly, admiring the way her facial features glistened from the window of the shed. “Have you…never seen yourself before?”

Ei shakes her head no.

“That’s a shame.” You smile softly, reaching up to caress the surprisingly soft skin of her cheek. “You’re beautiful.”

Her breath hitches when you call her beautiful, and Ei can’t help but be drawn closer to you with the way you allured her. She had always admired you from afar when she was plotting your coworkers’ downfall, and to have you sitting there right in front of her was just too tempting to resist.

Like a magnet, Ei takes a deep breath before slowly moving in to brush her lips against your face. When she sees you flinch but not back away, she takes it as a sign to keep going, wrapping a strong arm around your waist before slowly inching forward to claim what she desires.

She kisses you. Gently so while keeping you pressed firmly against her body with her strength, almost as if she were scared of letting you go. You were definitely surprised to say the least, the tall woman’s lips pushing roughly against you until you lost balance and fell over onto the bed. As your back hit the soft plushness of the mattress, Ei let out a small groan and climbed on top of you to continue kissing you, sloppily trying to slip her tongue in to taste you, before getting playfully pushed away by your soft little palms.

“Hey, hey…” you chuckled softly, watching as her face scrunched up in confusion. “Do you even know what you’re doing?”

Ei bites her lip for a moment and hesitantly shakes her head no, causing you to stifle a laugh from your lips. “Pfft…don’t worry, I’ll show you,” you say reassuringly, holding onto one of her hands and cupping her fingers tenderly. “These are what you’ll be using most of the time when pleasing another woman.” You explain, running your fingers up and down hers. You took notice of how rough and calloused they were from working out in the woods, not to mention how big her fingers were compared to yours, as you couldn’t help but imagine her stuffing each wide digit inside you.

‘That’s gonna need some prep…’ you thought to yourself, slowly moving her hand down so she could cup your breast. “Here. You want to do some foreplay on a woman before doing anything super intimate with her. Foreplay is important, as it— ahh…!”

Ei suddenly gave your breast a squeeze and started fondling it like instinct. If this was her first time being with a woman, you couldn’t tell, because she had already stuffed her hands under your shirt and started fondling you through the confines of your bra.

“Haah…wait—!” You couldn’t help but let out a groan when she eagerly slid her hands under your bra, calloused fingers rubbing harshly against the sensitive buds of your nipples and twisting them in ways that had you gripping at her back. “I think…I can figure it out.” Was all Ei said before smirking down at you with confidence. That facade of acting all cute in front of you now long gone, as she was determined to wreck you on this little mattress of hers.

“W-Wait—! There’s no need to be so ro— mhnnn…!” Your head lolled back in pleasure when Ei suddenly yanked your shirt up and pulled your bra top down. Rough hands engulfing your chest to give it a firm squeeze, and pinning you down to the mattress with little to no effort.

“Can I…Can I keep going?” Ei asks softly, a sharp contrast to the way she was brutally manhandling your tits.

“You…nngh…I guess so…” you pathetically whimpered out, still in shock with how she managed to flip the roles so easily.

At your approval, Ei nods and moves her head down to begin suckling dark hickies all over your stomach, tongue lapping over the smooth surface of your belly and making you whine with how rough she was treating you. It didn’t hurt by any means necessary, but you did feel your mind slowly break into submission for letting Ei use you as she pleased. ‘Crap…she’s so rough…’ you couldn’t help but think, letting out another whine when her hands suddenly gripped your thighs.

“I need…I need more…” you hear Ei groan, practically growling into your ear before tugging at your shorts. “Can I pull them off? Please, please?”

She was almost grunting in your ear with how bad she wanted you, burying her face against your neck like a dog in heat. You couldn’t bring yourself to ever say no to her, so you nodded enthusiastically before cupping her face. “Go ahead, Ei. I’m all yours…just be gentle…”

Oh the look on Ei’s face when you told her you were hers. It was like a primal desire had awakened in her, as she tore off your shorts with little to no effort and hoisted your legs up to saddle around her shoulders. You let out a yelp when you felt her rip your shorts so violently, and you couldn’t help but whine to her since they were your favorite shorts.

“Ei…!”

“I’ll…find you some new ones.”

She was clearly distracted with the way her eyes landed on your panties, licking her lips at the sight before looking up at you for one last request of permission.

“May I…?” She asks quietly, the hunger glowing in her eyes with the way she so desperately wanted to devour you.

“…Of course.” You say softly, taking a breather and lying back against the mattress. “Just promise to go slow, you have wide fingers…”

Ei smiles at this compliment before moving down to slide your panties up until they dangle at the ankle of your leg. Her mouth instantly waters at the sight of your exposed cunt, and she has to stop herself from just plunging her fingers inside you to feel how tight you’d be around her.

‘Slow…’ she has to remind herself, pressing a large thumb over your clit. ‘Slow…’

She catches the way your lips part when she presses over your clit, and Ei can’t help but groan at the sight. She stares at the way your essence begins dripping out of your hole, and the more she plays with you, the more slick your pussy gets while she spreads your lower lips open.

“Pretty…” you head Ei mumble, before gently easing one of her wide fingers inside you. “And t-tight…” She whimpers a little when she feels you squeeze so wonderfully around her, her groans growing more shallow as she eases her way inside of you.

Ei’s fingers were wide, but definitely not as wide as you thought as one finger alone was enough to stretch you pretty far. Your hands were left clinging desperately to the woman’s broad shoulders, taking in sharp breaths to accommodate the large stretch of her giant fingers fucking you raw. “Ei…” you breathed out softly, burying your face into the skin of her neck, “Slower…please…”

Ei couldn’t help but pout a little at your words. Slower? You wanted her to go even slower? She wanted to fuck you as rough as she could, but she understood that a human as delicate as you needed some time to adjust to something of her size.

“Oh…okay…” Ei says softly, going at a much slower pace until she feels you growing more relaxed. “Is this good?”

You let out a few pleasured sighs of ecstasy, and nodded your head to show how good she was making you feel. “Yes, Ei.” You whispered softly, letting out a small moan when the tip of her finger pushed up against a certain spot. “This is good.”

Feeling proud of herself, Ei continues until she feels you are wet enough and decides to push a second finger in to see if you could take two at the same time.

You could. And with the added pressure of a wider girth expanding your walls, you couldn’t help but buckle your knees and cling onto Ei more tightly. “Goodness, Ei,” you breathed out heavily, watching as her thick fingers sunk deep into you with every thrust and bounce, “For someone who hasn’t done this before, you certainly learn quickly…”

Ei smiles proudly when you compliment her sex skills, and decides to push her luck by shoving a third wide finger to see how much you could take.

The moment you feel an added width to your already large pair of fingers, you feel your senses go into overdrive as she begins pounding all three fingers as deep as they could go.

“E-Ei! Ei w-wait—!” You let out a whine as she continues fucking you with no other care in the world. While Ei definitely tried to go as slow as she could to appease your sensitivity, she eventually caved to her own carnal instincts and resorted to fucking you wild like a dog in heat.

“Nngh…hnn…” With each wet thrust, Ei let out a grunt that had you dripping over the mattress, the palm of her hand slapping against your ass, as she brought you closer and closer to your impending orgasm. “Please be close…please…please…”

She moves her fingers harder against your cunt, before feeling you tense up around her fingers and cream all over her hand. The moans you let out were simply delectable, and Ei couldn’t help but groan in her own world of pleasure before pulling her fingers out to have a taste.

As you recover from the intense orgasm you just had, Ei sticks her fingers into her mouth and licks your cum off her digits. The sight of such a tall, dangerous woman seductively sucking your cum off her fingers had you dripping wet once more, whining at the sight of her humming in pleasure before leaning down to kiss you.

“Tasty…” Ei murmurs against your lips, the tall woman gripping your waist and pulling you down so that she was spooning you from behind. “You taste so good…”

You tried catching your breath as she wraps her arms around you and plants sweet kisses against the back of your head. The adrenaline and fatigue of tonight having finally caught up with you as you slowly felt your eyes drift close in the comfort of your new lover’s arms.

“Are you…going to stay with me now…?” Ei asks softly, brushing your hair back and staring at you with the sweetest of eyes. You gazed up at her with a half lidded smile, the deaths of your coworkers no longer a matter to you as you only needed Ei in your life and Ei alone.

“I’ll stay.” You say sleepily, enjoying the way Ei held onto you and snuggled you deeper against her chest. “Don’t worry, I’m not leaving anytime soon.”

Ei smiled at this and took a deep breath, taking in the scent of your recently shampooed hair, before closing her eyes and mumbling.

“Good.”

#raiden ei smut #raiden ei x reader #ei smut #ei x reader #genshin smut #slasher au #genshin x reader #genshin women smut #genshin women x reader #genshin impact imagines

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rs-hawk · 8 months ago

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So Ohio has an Urban Legend called the Loveland frog and it's a giant frog that hangs around the swamps...say a reader got too curious and wanted to learn about it...for science

Ohh yes. I am very familiar with the Loveland Frog. I've never written about anything amphibian like this before so I hope you enjoy this! I did have to do some research though so that’s why this has taken awhile 🙏

You have always been an avid amateur cryptozoologist. It's not like you ever have thought that you would actually find anything, but you have fun, and for the most part it's a harmless hobby. You decide to head to Loveland, Ohio, in search of the supposedly pleasant Loveland Frogman, more affectionately called the “Loveland Frog”.

It’s dark when you creep to the little river he’s said to reside in. To you’re surprise, there’s no one else around. You read conflicting things on the frog, but it seems like the most common is that it’s a man sized frog with human intelligence, or a frog with a man’s body. Either way, it’s weirdly creepy, and almost a bit funny to you. You wander near the river, admiring the sounds of the night and the way the stars reflect off the water.

There’s the sound of splashing behind you, and at first, you pay it no mind. Jumping frogs, little fish, maybe even turtles. It isn’t until you feel something wet and… slimy? grab your arm that you turn around. Towering over you is the Loveland Frog. A hulking creature that you never expected to be real, much less be such an impressive specimen. All kinds of thoughts raced through your mind as you looked over it, it’s hand still curled around your forearm. Most prominent is “How does this thing mate?”

The creature slowly lets go of your arm, looking you over with matched curiosity. It brushes your hair out of your face, softly touching your skin and making croaking sounds at you that you’re unfamiliar with. They’re deep and powerful, vibrating in your chest with how close it is. Then, quite suddenly, it forces one of its slimy fingers inside of your mouth.

You wrinkle your nose at the taste and spit it out, but you’re already feeling the affects. While you can clearly see this thing is a frog, not a toad, the toxins that it must exude from its skin when it so pleases are flooding your brain. There’s a warmth and wetness between your legs that makes you let out an involuntary whimper when you adjust and your pants grind against your core. The creature seems pleased at the sound of your pleasure, causing it to reach out for you again.

You’re so unbalanced on your feet, with your body feeling both too light and too heavy at the same time, that you don’t even care as it leads you to an even more secluded part of the river. You’re back to wondering how something like this could mate. Is there only one? You’re swallowed by darkness as it takes you to a thicket.

The feeling of your clothes being stripped off of you and the cool wind that blows across the river hitting your bare skin makes you hum. The creature lays you down, spreading your legs to gaze at your dripping cunt. That makes you squirm, still present enough of mind to realize that this thing is trying to mate with you, however it does that. Instead of being disgusted though, you can’t help but being curious.

It’s long tongue slides across your clit, making you cry out in pleasure, your button pulsing and throbbing already. It pushes its tongue inside of you, your back arching and whimpering moans escaping your lips as it tongue fucks you to the brink. You’re so close to cumming that when it stops, you start cursing and whining.

That’s when the creature turns you on your back, shoving your face into the dirt. You do little, your body still feeling not like your own. It-he- pushes something thick and long inside of you. You grunt as you’re stretched out, trying to adjust to his size. Then, it starts slowly humping into you, and with each thrust, small objects are deposited into your womb. That’s when you start to squirm and cry out, begging for it to stop. Instead, he curls his hand over your face, forcing his fingers inside of your mouth again.

You’re so high that you slump completely against the ground, now enjoying the feeling of your womb being filled with heavy but squishy eggs. As the creature keeps fucking you into the dirt, you can’t help but clench and cum around his cock multiple times. So many times that you lose count. Finally, he pulls out. You think that it’s over so you let yourself relax, the high making your brain foggy.

However, after a moment, something even larger is stuffed into your used cunt. You moan loudly, grabbing at the grass underneath you. The first frogman walks in front of you, shoving his cock down your throat to feed you the toxin directly as the second creature fucks his cum deeply into you, coating your womb and fertilizing the heavy eggs inside of you.

Your eyes roll back into your head as the toxin makes you even more sensitive, causing you to cum each time the creature inside of you does. You can feel his slick dripping out of you, coating your thighs and the ground under you. Or maybe it’s your own. At this point, you’re not sure.

By sunrise, they both slink off back to the water, leaving you still high and foggy, covered in cum, with a stomach that already looks nine months pregnant.

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eyelambspider · 1 month ago

Text

𝟎𝟑. 𝐀𝐩𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐥𝐲𝐩𝐬𝐞 & 𝐀𝐮𝐫𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐦 || 𝐉𝐨𝐡𝐧 𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐞

Day three of Kink/Creeptober! Here is the list of my prompts & event terms!

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : john price x gn!reader 𝐬𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲 : Its the zombie apocalypse, and as a former military man, John Price leads your group to a rooftop in order to get saved. Shortly after, he comes up to you with an offer that surprises you: He wants to fuck you like its the end of the world. 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 1.6 k 𝐚/𝐧 : although I think this works for both a fem & male reader (I don't describe reader's body in great detail) please lmk if it doesn't and I will change this to fit pronouns! also, the 'saved' scene is very L4D coded 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 : smut, nsfw, mentions of death/gore/guns (the zombies), no use of y/n, creampie, dirty talk, praise, kissing, aftercare, fluff, swearing (the least of our problems huh?)

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐊 𝐀𝐂𝐑𝐎𝐒𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐎𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐂𝐈𝐓𝐘 𝐇𝐀𝐃 𝐁𝐄𝐄𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐋𝐋. Swarms of the undead had sprung up, laying waste to the streets. It had only been a week or so since it had started and news of the virus had gone—quite literally—airborne.

Captain John Price had led the handful of survivors to the abandoned hotel. The bravest of the group took up guns and fired at the undead that lurked in the foyer. While a few women and children held back, knives and makeshift weapons in their hands.

"Come on! Everyone get in!" Price and a few men stood at the bottom of the stairwell, holding the door for everyone to flood in and make their way to the roof. Anxious to reach rescue.

Seven flights up, you pushed the door to the roof open with a bang. Immediately your eyes shot up towards the horizon, searching the skies frantically.

Had you all missed it?

The entire group slowly appeared behind you, Price coming up last. Everyone turning their tired faces towards the military man, searching his face for any sign of hope for their salvation. The only thing that had kept them going for days.

"They'll come," he assured. Although he couldn't really believe the words himself, it seemed everyone else did.

The small group of survivors began to collect themselves, willing to wait as long as it took for rescue. Everyone found something to do. Families began to make spots for the children to sit on with blankets and clothing, water and a bit of food beginning to go around. Some of the men even disappeared down to the seventh floor, clearing it properly of debris and barricading it... unable to stand idle even now.

The sky was filled with a haze of smoke, distant fires and sirens long died out wafting into the air. Polluting the city with the smell of death and ash. It was horrible, even from up here.

Some people couldn't bear to think about it, or begin to believe that the world had ended... You though, you were quite literally staring the apocalypse in the face.

Distant skyscrapers had collapsed, lit aflame like birthday candles. The yellow sun was hidden behind a dreamy haze of smoke. And below, where your eyes traced, the streets were crawling with zombies. Bits of flesh ripped from their faces. Some already bloated and decrepit, while others were still bleeding. Chunks of faces and limbs scattered about like urban trash. It was a mass of flesh, clawing their way towards the loudest noises, groaning and wailing like souls of the damned for just one more meal.

"You'll give yourself nightmares," a voice spoke. The accent had become so familiar during the past few days that you didn't even need to glance over your shoulder to know that Price was walking up to you.

He watched the way the eerie wind lapped at your hair, the way you peered over the edge... his dark eyes unable to read that distant expression on your grimy face.

He really wished he had a smoke right now. A long and deep sigh slipped from his lips as he watched the corpses below the building linger aimlessly like termites. Bumping into each other mindlessly with groans and slobbery hisses. Just looking for their next victim.

Price glanced at you out of the corner of his eye. You weren't really paying attention, but his eyes lingered on the soft curve of your back as you leaned over to look down. He licked his lips, inhaling softly as if to say something before the sounds of choppers began to fill the air.

Zombies and survivors alike turned towards the thunderous sound. Black helicopters flew overhead in the dozens, blotting out the sun with whirring rotors. Although some of the survivor's cheered and waved for help... Price's stomach dropped.

Something wasn't right.

Everyone watched in confusion and despair as the government helicopters flew overhead and passed them by, stirring up smoke as they headed deeper into the city. Oblivious to the people who wailed and cried out in panic for them to come back.

You watched with wide eyes as the rescue slipped right through your fingers like sand in an hourglass.

That night, it all seemed hopeless.

But, as humans always do, they held out miraculously.

Some survivors made a make-shift 'Save Us' sign to hang over the roof using spare bedsheets and gore from the street. Others continued to barricade the floor off, everyone collectively agreeing to start preparing for the long haul.

They had given you a room to stay in, everyone shared a hall, but most families and people that knew each other kept their doors open to chat. Yours was closed, leaving you to stare aimless up at the ceiling. Listening to the sounds of your breath against the clamor of people in the hall trying to comfort each other to the world ending just outside those large windows. Zombies, once people you might've known, growled and screamed for their next face to tear open with their teeth-

Before you could stumble further into despair, the door to your hotel room clicked closed. You sat up and glanced over, that questioning look on your face making Price sigh again, his hands coming to rest on his dusted jeans.

"I have an... offer you might want to here me out on," he tossed his hands up, as if he wasn't exactly sure how to fucking say it-

God, he really wanted to fuck you, and the apocalypse seemed like no better excuse to do just that.

"Fuckk," Price panted against your pulse, his face buried into the crook of your neck, breathing in your very essence each time his hips snapped forwards. "You feel so fucking good," he groaned, sucking a deep red mark into your heated skin.

The two of you were tangled in white sheets. Price had you laying beneath his burly body, your soft legs wrapped around his hips, squeezing and pulling him in deeper. The sensation of Price's cock burying itself to your hilt made the two of you moan into each other with equal fervor. His tip slamming softly into that sweet spot inside of you that both made your eyes roll.

This was everything he fucking needed for the past few days. His mind not focused on rationing or food or all that other shit- God he just wanted your sweet body beneath him like this. Watching your body bounce below him softly from the force of his thrusts. His cock buried so tantalizingly deep into your tight heat. The sound of your skin against his- "Fuckk," he groaned again, nearly tipping over the edge just thinking about it.

You moaned beneath him, holding onto his broad shoulders, fingers skimming over his war-torn skin for purchase, holding on for dear life as the soldier unintentionally gave your body all his pent up energy. When he felt you raise your hips to meet his insistent thrusts, he could've sworn he was in love.

"Price!" You begged. For more, for anything. Everything about him was addicting. The way sweat glistened off his dark brows, the way his soft eyes held yours as he pounded into you, watching every reaction, every breath you took with his pupils blown wide open with pure lust.

He could see how much you loved it, could feel how hard your walls clamped around him.

He shook his head, dipping down again to capture your lips in a heated kiss. "Fuck, I'm not going to last long with you looking like that baby," he whispered.

He kept you under him, enrapturing you with his warm skin and musky scent. Price hiked your left leg up and over his strong forearm, spreading you open for him. Allowing him to sink in deeper with a deep growl of satisfaction.

Price could feel his orgasm beginning to build at the base of his spine, his measured thrusts becoming a sloppier the more he chased it. He knew you were close too, he could feel your body writhing beneath his, begging for more friction, trying to hold him impossibly close.

Even with a horde of the undead standing a few floors below, trapping you all into this hotel. Even with the sounds of distant helicopters and fires raging in the background, or the incessant creak of the bed every time your bodies met... All you could hear was each other. Blocking out the world just to listen to those sweet cries and those low growls of satisfaction.

With one powerful thrust, Price came inside of you with a guttural moan, smothering the sounds of his orgasm into your neck. He kept thrusting, riding out the heavenly high he got from your body... even when he felt you squeeze down on him with one final cry.

The strong man above you suddenly went a little limp in your arms, his lips brushing against the burning shell of your ear as he panted, "That was fucking perfect." He found himself chuckling, the two of you spent from the exertion.

Price felt you whimper below him, feeling your legs tremble around him with a sly grin. You were going to feel that in the morning... Inner thighs already feeling sore.

"I got ya," Price grunted, untangling himself from your limbs. His muscular arm never leaving your waist even as he settled behind you under the sheets, making the two of you comfortable by pulling the blanket back up. He cradled you close to him, your back pressed against the hard planes of his chest. "Get some sleep," he murmured, planting a soft, almost weary, kiss to your temple. As if the act was suddenly too intimate and out of place in a burning world.

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cryptidghostgirl · 9 months ago

Note

Hey so uhh, it said requests are open so I'm gonna shoot my shot ig. I have this fic idea but I'm a shit writer so here it goes.

Alastor x reader but the concept is that the reader is Alastor's shadow.

Now, hear me out: Alastor is said to be a powerful demon since his manifestation in hell, we know that it takes demons quite some time to accumulate their power before they become overlords.

If "The Radio demon" was an alias was that operated between more that one person, then it would make sense as to why and how he rose to the top very quickly (assuming we ignore the fact he made a deal with someone).

That and Alastor's black appendages and shadows seem out of theme for a demon who's primary power is based on Radio.

As for how they met, it could go two ways. Either with Alastor, a man hungry for power, strikes his first deal with Shadow!Reader to get them to do his bidding. Or Shadow!Reader offering Alastor their services after realizing that he has a lot of potential. Either way, their partnership blooms into a sort of kinship between the two of them.

Do with this concept whatever you want with it, I just wanna get this concept out in the world in the hands of someone much more capable of writing than I am.

Enjoy!

A/N please always shoot your shot. this is such a fun idea,, thank you so much for entrusting it to me. I've decided just to write their meeting for now but may continue it later on. I hope you like it!!

The Thing (Alastor x Gn!Reader)

Pairing: Alastor x Reader

Warnings: Mention of cannibalism and the Donner party. I think that is it.

Word Count: 1,752

Master Lists:

Master Lists

Hazbin Hotel Master List

Click here and leave a comment if you want to be added to any taglists or send me an ask about it.

There was a secret, one that no one knew, one that would tear the demon realm apart at its edges if anyone found out. The illusive Radio Demon and his shadow were, in fact, just that: the illusive Radio Demon and his shadow.

Y/n was master of the immaterial, shifting forms and shedding skins the way others change their clothes. When Alastor arrived in Hell, they had long since been established as one of the many demons to be aware of.

Rumor runs rampant everywhere but especially in Hell where in controls, combines, and divides. Y/n was just that, a rumor. Never the same face twice, never in the same place twice. No one even knew their name, simply referring to them as the thing or the hunger. They snatched sinner's souls from their grasps and devoured them whole. An urban legend, a ghost story only here, all the ghosts were real.

Alastor was as observant in death as he had been in life, it didn't take him long to catch sight of the shadow. Though he had only been in Hell a few days when it had first appeared, he could tell it had nefarious intent.

The thing was a good actor, almost good enough to fool him. It lay in the reality of his own shadow, following his moves perfectly. However, no one is perfect and every once in a while, there would be a little slip. The first one which had caught Alastor's attention was when he had taken a step forward and it had gone the wrong way, quickly righting itself and following after the mistake.

Alastor pretended not to have noticed, but he remembered. He lay in wait for another such occurrence. It was not until two days later, when his shadow gave him four hands rather than two with no apparent explanation such as an odd angle to the sun or another body near him, that his thesis was confirmed. There was, in fact, something following him.

It stuck like glue to the heels of his shoes. Alastor was quiet, Alastor schemed. He had trapped it in a pure white room which he had fixed lightbulbs in from all sides. When he had turned on the lights, he had turned on them, arms crossed and foot tapping expectantly.

The shadow had looked this way and that, searching for a place to hide. When they realized it was no use, they had pulled themselves from the floor into three dimensions and faced him head on.

"Who are you?" Alastor had asked before quickly reevaluating his question, "What are you?"

It moved like liquid in the air, twisting and dissolving at its edges. Bubbles, or what was almost bubbles, what looked like bubbles, rose to the surface of it's body and as they popped, a demon began to take the shadow's place.

"I am everything."

They were many voiced. When they spoke, it sounded like a crowd of people saying the same thing in unison. Alastor stared at the demon, unamused. They were a full person now, about a head shorter than him and seemingly very calm considering he had them trapped. Then again, Alastor had only been in Hell a few weeks by this point, not nearly enough time to work up the sort of reputation he was hoping for.

"Is that a bad pickup line?" Alastor asked, "Am I supposed to ask what you mean and you'll say something like 'I could be everything to you?'"

The demon raised their eyebrows, shaking their head.

"It is the truth."

A tense silence fell between the pair. Alastor broke it with a sigh, rubbing his temples in irritation. He hadn't really known what to expect from this endeavor save an event to break up the monotony of his days. The demon was not delivering.

"Yeah, alright."

"Who are you?"

"You've been following me for what, two weeks? And you don't know?"

The demon shrugged.

"I was trying to be polite. It has been a while since I have spoken to anyone."

"Sure. Well," Alastor turned to the door, pulling a skeleton key from his pocket, "this has been interesting. Enjoy eternity alone in a well lit room."

Alastor opened the door. The demon made no move to follow him out of the room, no move to escape. They simply watched him in curiosity, their head tilted slightly to one side. Alastor hesitated, his body blocking the exit and his back towards them. He watched them over his shoulder as a thin black smoke seemed to emanate from the outline of their body.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you."

An empty threat, barley even a threat to be honest. Alastor stepped out of the room, closing the door firmly behind him. Once he was sure it was locked, he slipped the key back into his pocket. He made to leave, intending to go out on the town in a desperate attempt to find entertainment. Barley two steps forward, and shadows began to pool on the floor before his feet, blocking Alastor's path.

He watched in a mild interest as the demon pulled themselves from the shadows, taking on a different face than they had worn in the room. Now they were broader, taller, stronger. They looked mean.

"I told you."

"Is this what you meant when you said you were everything?"

The demon nodded once. Their wide eyes were unblinking, unchanging, as their form mutated again. A spider demon now with many arms and a lanky figure. Alastor raised his eyebrows.

"So, you let me catch you."

"I was bored. No one ever notices me until it is too late, except you."

"I find that hard to believe. You were easy to spot."

The demon's eyes widened slightly at this, something similar to surprise but halfway to fear.

"Like I said, Alastor the interesting." they mused after a moment.

Alastor bowed his head slightly in recognition of the title.

"I could take your soul, destroy you. Why were you so willing to risk all that? Surely a bit of entertainment can't be worth that much to you."

He was trying to get a gage on the creature, and he knew they could tell. It was a mild threat, one he couldn't follow through on even if he wanted to. Sure, he could maim the creature, cause it great pain, but beyond leaving them formless for a few days tops he was powerless. He knew that, but he didn't know if they did. Either way, the situation would play out to his advantage. It would either give him more information, or the upper hand.

They considered the situation for a moment before answering. Alastor couldn't figure out if it was because of their interest in him, for fear of him, or some third, other undefined motivation. No matter what it was, he didn't care. This was the most engaged he had felt in weeks.

"You aren't an overlord. You can't make a contract."

"And you are?"

"No."

"Too weak?" Alastor teased and the demon glared at him.

"Far from it. I don't like being seen."

"But you're letting me see you."

"I am allowing you to see a face. It is not mine."

Alastor fell silent. He had figured that the demon before him didn't have a true form, or if they did, that it was shadow. Things were becoming curiouser by the second. He was no longer regarding his attempts to trap the demon as a waste of time.

"So, you want power but anonymity. Those things don't go hand in hand."

"I know. You want fame and lack the power. Another unmatched set."

Alastor's ear twitched at that, displeasure running through his veins and clouding his sight. His hand tightened where he held his microphone.

"I have power enough."

"What use is a Radio Demon with nothing to broadcast?"

"Are you suggesting a deal?"

The demon smiled a smile that was too big for the face it wore. Alastor had to admit, they were unsettling. He understood the rumors.

"I've heard of your... reputation shall we say? But if you think I will trust someone who's face I have never even seen, you are dead wrong."

"Was that a joke?" the demon tentatively asked after a moment.

"Not on purpose but I supose so."

The thing seemed to roll the idea over in their mind as their form changed once again, this time becoming a demon with the body of a shark. They seemed not even to notice they were changing as their eyes flicked back to Alastor's.

"You want information. Then you will be open to the idea of a partnership."

"This was your goal all along, a partnership as you put it."

A statement, not a question. The demon smiled, their eyebrows slightly raised.

"Oh, was it now. At least I had an end goal to this little... situation."

Alastor scoffed, looking away. They were right. He had come up with no ideas past capturing the thing that had been following him. He was in the dark. They had everything figured out.

"Show me your real face. Then we can talk."

"Alastor Hartifelt. Died 1933. Louisiana famed radio host and serial killer cut down in his prime by a hunter who mistook him for a deer."

"Are you trying to intimidate me?"

"Not at all."

The demon shifted once again. It took them longer to find form this time, remaining as a black cloud for a few moments before at last settling on an almost human body. They were shorter than he had expected, smaller too and decked out in what seemed to be colonial dress. They held a hand out to him.

"Y/n L/n. Died 1846. Newly wed and member of the Donner party."

"Cannibalism." Alastor mused, gently taking their hand in his.

He had expected them to be cold, immaterial. He had expected his hand to slide right through theirs. Instead, the demon, Y/n, was warm and solid to the touch, just like anyone else. They smiled, mouth full of needles.

"We all take what we are given."

"I suppose."

Y/n dropped his hand and crossed their arms. Despite their stature, they radiated authority and poise. It was almost impressive.

"If you will be the face, I will be the force."

"No soul binding."

"I couldn't if I wanted to. Not an overlord."

Alastor looked them up and down. His smile grew.

"Not an overlord yet."

----

tags:

@willowshadenox @i-love-jafar @elfyeet @reader3 @lazygirlfanfic0-0

#hazbin hotel #x reader #hazbin alastor #alastor #hazbin hotel alastor #alastor hazbin hotel #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel x reader #alastor x gn!reader #gn reader #gender neutral y/n #gender neutral reader #gender neutral pronouns #they/them reader #alastor x reader #the radio demon x reader #hazbin hotel x y/n #alastor hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel x gn reader

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vaporwavebeach-writes · 1 year ago

Text

Kinktober Day 6 (Dubcon)

Harry Warden x Reader (NSFW)

(773 Words)

Summary: Whatever happens in the mines, stays in the mines

Warnings/Tags: 18+, gender neutral reader, EXTREMELY dubious consent (like seriously), dead dove do not eat, descriptions of violence, guilt, confusing and shameful feelings, reader is a little delirious from the mining fumes, fear play (kinda), penetrative sex, Harry Warden being scary, coming on clothes, pickaxe threats

Notes: this one was a little tough to write, but I’m proud of how it turned out :) I’m starting to near the “oh man, I’m running out of inspo” phase, but fuck it we ball, we’ll push through LMAO enjoy the fic!!!

There was no time to catch your breath. You weren’t sure how long you’ve been running and you didn’t know where you could even go. These mines were like a labyrinth. The air became lighter the further down you ran. Exhaustion and gradual decrease of oxygen quality makes for a deadly duo, but you couldn’t think about that now. All your friends were dead- at least, that’s what you’ve begun to accept. Reaching another dead end in front of you, the heavy footsteps of the murderous miner pounded in the distance.

Back against the wall, you sink to your feet, feeling utterly helpless. Around the corner of the darkened mineshaft, Harry Warden- the urban legend of the town, stalks into view.

As he creeps closer, his bloodied pickaxe comes into view. You remember just an hour ago, how it swung into skulls of your peers. The screams ring out in your brain. The image of the light leaving their eyes as blood and organs pool around you is forever etched in your memory.

You feel yourself being lifted off your feet, the collar of your shirt crumpled between his gloved hands. You can’t see anything at all behind the vacant, blacked out eyes of his dust mask. The wind is knocked out of you as he slams you against the jagged walls of the tunnel. You’re forced to deeply inhale the noxious fumes of the mine, making your brain go hazy as the miner’s hands grip onto your waist, traveling under your shirt.

You let out a soft gasp that weren’t entirely sure was out of fear or arousal. You’ve been running in these mines for so long, you didn’t know what to feel anymore. On one hand, you felt scared, alone, traumatized- definitely in need of some therapy after a situation as dire as this, wanting nothing more than to push him off you and run out of the tunnels. On the other hand, you were feeling utterly amorous as you allowed yourself to get felt up and groped by a pickaxe-wielding maniac, morbidly curious to see how far you were willing to go.

Your brain was running itself completely ragged. You didn’t know what you wanted anymore. Maybe the poor air quality and fumes were messing with your head- scrambling the terror and confusion and adrenaline and lust that were fighting over how your body should be reacting.

You could hear heavy grunts and muffled breathing through his mask. He was impossibly close to you, the heat of each other making the already compact mining tunnels feel like a pressure cooker. The unintentional (or was it?) friction from one another distracted you from your thoughts. It didn’t feel right to enjoy this, especially after witnessing something so violent and grotesque, but that didn’t matter once Harry Warden unzipped his pants, freeing his aching cock.

As you felt your pants being forced down, you attempt to push off the walls, but are met with his pickaxe- dripping with that fresh crimson, to the side of your neck.

You stare at him, terrified, yet exceedingly desperate. “I don’t want to die.” You whisper.

Harry reels back, swinging the pickaxe. You violently flinch, shrieking in terror as the pickaxe is wedged into the wall beside you. Before giving you any time to settle from the fear, Harry Warden pushes himself inside you, dripping and eager.

You wail in ecstasy as his cock pumps into you so quickly. You grab onto his shoulders to steady yourself. The strangled groans from inside his mask burrow their way into your mind, mingling with the screams and pleading from your friends being violently murdered. It scared you to know how aroused you were. Your friends were dead and here you were, getting fucked stupid by the man who killed them. And you liked it.

Your orgasm crashes into you, powerfully and unexpectedly. You shudder around the miner, who sloppily continues to thrust into you, not far behind in his own release. You could now add cum to the blood and dust that stained your clothes as he shoots his load onto you.

Your tainted clothes were the least of your problems now compared to your tainted mind. The thought of what just happened finally begins to sink it. You weren’t scared or disgusted, but were more so scared and disgusted at the fact that you didn’t feel like that at all. You didn’t know what would happen next, but there was one thing that you would continue to tell yourself for as long as you had left to live: Whatever happens in the mines, stays in the mines.

#kinktober #kinktober 2023 #harry warden x reader #harry warden smut #harry warden imagine #harry warden x you #slasher x reader #slasher smut #slasher imagine #slasher x you #mia writes horror!!!

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whispereons · 1 year ago

Text

Oracle!Reader Part 6

Masterlist - Part 1, Part 5, Part 7

Walking blindly you were surrounded by darkness. The inky color put you off and attracted you at the same time. Anything before this moment faded away from your mind and any thought of the future was erased.

Step by step you walked further into the void that chilled you to your core. What were you looking for? What were you hoping for? Where were you?

The sounds of a city started to come to you and streetlamps came into view. Black concrete roads paved the way as the sidewalk was formed under your feet.

The night sky was littered with stars and you stopped as memories came to mind. You knew this area, you knew what was about to happen.

Despite urging your body to stop, to not go there, to not witness it again. It didn't listen as it made you run down the streets yelling.

"Ashtray! Ashtray where are you!"

The ragged and tattered clothes you were wearing let the cold air nip your skin. The shoes a size too big with holes let rocks scratch your feet as you stopped and turned back.

You had already gave up trying to stop this scene. This was a nightmare you were going to relive no matter what.

The colors blurred as time was sped up until a series of loud bangs crystalized the scene. Gunshots that still, and currently are haunting your dreams.

The sight of an old, ragged man and a cat laying on the ground stabs your heart. The blood pooling around leads your eyes to the injuries.

Eyes glazed over, a jaw barely hanging on by blood stained muscles, and a bloody hole in his forehead that went all the way through. His clothes did very little to hide the gunshot wounds in his torso.

A lean gray cat with black and white patches was in the man's arms. The dried blood and singular bullet hole in the unmoving cat's side made it clear that Ashtray had died earlier.

You took shaky steps towards the old man and Ashtray. The night sky and urban city washed away into the shadows.

With every step you took they only got further and further. The contradicting thoughts between running away and getting closer rattled you.

You loved them. You loved that old man despite the short time you knew him. You loved Ashtray despite his smell and diseases. It's not like you were any different at that time.

You watched as Ashtray and the old man changed into a treasure hoarder. The first treasure hoarder that you saw die by the nobushi.

The small whisper, "Why?…" was all you heard from the wide eyed treasure hoarder before he turned into a stake. The stake suddenly went ablaze as a man's voice screamed.

"WHY? WHY ME?! OH HOLY CREATOR SAVE ME! HELP ME!"

The last scream he let out jogged your memory of the Watatsumi Island sacrifice. The burning stake exploded as wind blew them together to form a Anemoboxer.

The Anemoboxer that you killed.

He took slow steps toward you as the wounds you left on him bled heavily. The ground shook as he came closer and you can only back up until you no longer felt ground under you.

Your breath was stolen as you fell off the cliff. The Anemoboxers form got smaller and smaller as you continued falling. Your hair whipped in the air as your stomach dropped. At last when you could tell the ground was about to meet you, you screamed.

Nothing but a broken gasp left you as you fell off the bed. The flash of pain from hitting the boat floor was a small price to pay for the relief the cold floor gave your sweaty skin.

You laid there tangled with the blanket on the floor struggling to breathe. The waves slowly rocked the boat as the moon shined through the small circular window.

Your breathing slowed down back to normal as you focused on the sound of Beidou and her crew walking around. The boat must have already left and the majority of the crew must be back from drinking.

The sound of their rowdy footsteps and drunken yelling helped ground you. After escaping the blanket you walked to the small door on the side. As you suspected, it lead to a small bathroom.

After cleaning yourself up from the sweat and grime from traveling to Ritou, you felt a little better. The nightmare lingered in your mind but you were more rational.

That treasure hoarder's death wasn't your doing, That man on the stake may have died for you as the creator but you never ask for it. It was really more of his punishment for his crime then something you caused. Now the Anemoboxer...

He may have been doing his 'job' but that doesn't excuse the fact they were kidnapping children for whatever reason. Many times in Genshin Fatui agents were seen taking advantage and/or trying to harm them. A world quest in Sumeru's Kimara village came to mind concerning the Fatui, children and the Aranara's.

Besides did you hold the other two Fatui skirmishers death against Heizou? No, he did it for a good reason therefore you killed for a good reason too. It sounds brutal but that's the truth. Teyvat has it's own laws after all.

With a lighter heart you examined yourself in the mirror. The bathroom was pretty clean for a pirate crew. Druggie dens and frat party bathrooms couldn't even compare. The mask you wore was still barely hanging on.

The mask Yae got you came to mind. After taking it out of the box you turn back to the mirror and remove your old mask. The sight of your full face left you surprised and bitter.

All the statues and artwork pictured you with a healthy glow, clear skin, and a peaceful or loving expression. It's nothing like the face that looks back at you with eyebags, unkempt eyebrows and tired eyes.

The fact that the 'creator' version of you has become more familiar to you then your real face was depressing. You were starting to seriously doubt your belief in whether Teyvat is better than Earth. Your life is shitty in both… maybe you're the actual problem.

Dismissing the weird end your thoughts turned to, you put on the new mask and left your room. You didn't want to go back to sleep but the thought of staying in that cramped room wasn't appealing either.

Contrary to how loud it was earlier, the boat was quiet. You walked past many passed out sailors and were careful not to step on them. After wandering around the lower decks you finally found the steps leading to the main deck.

The salty and crisp air hit your face like a slap. You grabbed a hold of the railing and cringed as the air woke you up. This was your first time on a boat and the waves could be felt way stronger higher up.

Carefully you walked to the railing and saw Inazuma in the distance. It felt unbelievable that you actually escaped with your life. That you were actually going to explore the rest of Teyvat. As long as you live of course.

The boat must have left not too long ago since you can still see the general shape of Ritou. Inazuma was much more pretty from far away. Maybe whenever you come back you can properly enjoy the sights.

Turning back to see the rest of the main deck, you spot another person. White hair with a red streak, red maple leave patterned clothing, and a Iron Sting sword on his hip was Kazuha.

Kaedehara fucking Kazuha was on the opposite side of the deck. The first acolyte you can talk to without fear of Ei or Yae finding out. No chance of your identity being exposed!

That's what you thought until you remembered the wind that he talked to so much.

You were careful not to stare at him as you began a debate with yourself.

You wanted to live a quiet life to avoid drawing attention and potentially exposing your lie. But you also needed to interact with people to build up creditability in the case that you are caught. Yet the only way to talk to them and not have them dub you as suspicious due to the sensation they feel from when you pulled them is to be clear in your oracle identity.

No matter how you slice it, you have to talk and make connections. Then try to keep things only surface level from then on to avoid spinning too many lies. It was hard enough keeping track of everything, you didn't need to throw in unnecessary lies.

A tightrope you will unfortunately walk as long as you want to live.

You walk to Kazuha and get a better look at him as you approach him. His elbow was resting on the railing with his face in his palm. Eyes closed as the moon illuminated him. Truly the picture perfect of serene.

If you ignore his flushed cheeks and soft snores.

Maybe it would be better to just say hello tomorrow-

Kazuha's crimson eyes open slowly and lock onto you immediately. A giggle leaves him as he stares at you in a daze.

"Hello there… I'm-I'm Kaedehara Kazooha."

He ends his sentence with another giggle. He was drunk. Very fucking drunk. You remember the second Golden Apple Archipelago, Kazuha only drank a few cocktails and couldn't even stand. How did he not fall off the ship like this?!

He moves to take a step towards you and he sways dangerously near the edge. Worried you move forward and steady him by letting his arm hang around your shoulder.

This was now the second time a short anemo guy was leaning on you in this position. Maybe it'll become a pattern with them?

Half lidded red eyes stare at your face and it makes you nervous with the close proximity. What if he remembers this incorrectly and thinks you did something bad to him? You help him stand straighter and speak with a worried tone.

"Hello, I'm Y/N but that isn't important right now. Are you okay? You almost fell off the ship."

"Oh, really? It-It's because Beidou didn't-n't give me the rest of the wine." He slurs his words and pouts at you.

Were you supposed to feel bad for him? Because you only wanted to laugh at seeing the calm and poetic Kazuha pout at you. Was this really the same guy that threatened to brand a treasure hoarders forehead?

Well that sobered you up quickly.

"I'm sure Beidou did that with your well-being in mind. Why don't I help you to your room?"

"I cannot agree… not when the wind is… is sweetly crooning to me of… your brilliance." He giggles drunkenly and finishes. "So please… let me stay with… youUU-"

"Okay, okay! Just please quiet down."

You look around and spot a few sturdy looking barrels. You drag the giggling man to the barrels and sit on the ground with your backs resting against the barrels.

Not the most comfortable position but there were no chairs and you didn't want him near the ledge. Now with more space between you both, he seemed to take in your features better.

"You feel very familiar... just like my friend. When I remember himmm melanch-choly consumes me. But you… you feel like a sweeeet dream that-t I'm returning to."

His words are scattered and hard to understand but the meaning is clear.

"I'm an oracle for the creator. Many acolytes that have met me say the same thing."

"Then why does... the wind sing to meee about you?" The pauses and slurring are starting to decrease but the red in his cheeks stay strong.

"Why does th-the sight of you make me, make me want to spout every bit of poetry in my soulll."

His glazed eyes are now intensely staring at you. If it wasn't for his sleepy blinking and fumbling words you would think he was sober. Kazuha starts scooting closer to you.

"The wind? I'm not sure but it must be my connection to the creator. As for the other part, it may be because you drank too much."

The wind must be anemo, some people theorize that Venti is who he talks to but that's not the most concrete theory. Elements and archons must be different entities seeing as you wielded electro to protect yourself. If Ei and electro were the same, surely she would have the electro harm yourself. Ugh that topic requires more attention then you can give it right now.

"Drank too much? No, no, no. I drank far too lit-little. I just need the taste of something stronger..."

You didn't realize just how close Kazuha was now. He was now boxing you against the barrel with his legs on either side of yours. His hands were pressed on the barrel with his face inching closer.

Holy shit, holy shit. Your first instinct is to freeze when you can feel his breath lightly graze you. His eyes stare at you in slight wonder as he speaks softly.

"You must be my new muse. That is why the wind calls me to you. Having you in my vision makes my heart race. It makes me wish I hadn't drank a single drop of sake, for I am getting drunk on your presence alone. The wind speaks of the glory and happiness you bring to anyone lucky enough to meet you. There is no greater muse that I could long for. The haikus and poems I can create in your presence are-"

Okay so he's still shitfaced, the cold wind only improved his speaking. But he was veering dangerously close to doing something that sober him will hold against you.

"Kazuha, I am extremely flattered to be called your muse. And I truly do wish you luck in your writing but it's best you go to bed now."

He giggles and closes his eyes seemingly not realizing you cut him off.

"Y/N, ah what a sweet name, I understand that you may have some reservations about my words but-"

With no time to lose you move his hand off the barrel so you can move out the way and stand up. You pull him up and wrap his arm around your shoulder to not let him fall.

Ignoring your flushed cheeks and rapidly beating heart you speak softly to Kazuha in case the alcohol makes him react strongly.

"Kazuha, if I am your muse then you must know just how heartbreaking it is to lose your muse. The alcohol impairs you and makes you see me in a foggy state of mind. Your drunkenness' is hindering your vision of me."

He pouts and rests his head on your shoulder. Defiantly he retorts.

"I am not drunk, I drank very little." It feels like you're talking to a cranky kid rather than a full grown man.

"My mistake then, I'm sorry Kazuha. Now which way is your room? To make up for my mistake I should escort you back. Not because you're drunk but so that you could draw more inspiration from me as we walk together."

"Oh I see, it's just down those stairs and then a right till we get to the end of the hallway."

Guiding drunk people into telling you what you need to know is one of the easiest things. You spent a lot of time on Earth surrounded by drunkards and tricking them into spilling information.

With a smile you help Kazuha to his room. With each step the sleepy swordsman became heavier and heavier. You're basically carrying all of Kasha's weight when you finally arrive at his room.

He must be pure muscle from how much weight you were carrying. You push the door open with your shoulder and sigh in relief once you drop him on his bed.

Kazuha sleepily moves to rest his head on the pillow as you catch your breath.

"Well Kazuha I'll see you in the morning." You move to leave but Kazuha grabs your wrist and looks up at you.

"Nooo... Don't leave yet. Stay with me, just for a little while. I'll tell you the haiku I made with the inspiration I got from you."

It wouldn't hurt to stay right? No one could deny that Kazuha was a very cute drunk. You could totally afford to give in for once. You sat on the bed and smiled at him.

"It would be my pleasure Kazuha. The creator has always praised your flowery language so I've always wanted to hear it myself."

Kazuha smiles brighter at the mention of the creator. "Then I'm confident that you will enjoy it Y/N."

"Winds whisper sweet sounds,

In my sight, the brightest star,

Gold masks and bright smiles."

Kazuha finishes the haiku before passing out on the bed. Shoes and all. You try to get up and leave again but his grip on your wrist is tight. You tug your wrist but he's just not letting go.

Is it because he's a skilled swordsman that it's this hard to escape his grasp? After bracing yourself and pulling a few time you finally got your wrist free.

You leave Kazuha's room feeling a lot better then when you first boarded the ship. Although you know Kazuha will be horribly embarrassed when or if he remembers what happened, it's more than okay with you.

Not only will Kazuha automatically have a good impression of you for dealing with his drunken self but also feel indebted to forgiving any mistakes you might make. Plus it was fun not having to worry about any lies to tell or upkeep.

It's futile to hope but you still want to entertain the idea of the rest of your journey being this peaceful. Seeing your favorite characters in passing and admiring the scenery of the different nations. It's what you dreamed of while on Earth and now you'll also dream of it while being on Teyvat. Ironic isn't it?

You remember something and head to the main deck. After walking to and from it, you've figured out the general route. The drunk crew members were still sprawled, passed out on the floor. Which was really annoying to pass over so you took the liberty to move them to sit against the wall.

Once outside you looked towards the direction of Inazuma. It was a lot smaller now but you could still see Narukami Island. It was close enough for what you wanted to test. The lack of witnesses was a nice bonus.

Pulling up the game screen, you went straight for the Wish system. One look at your primogems made you wanna cry. How in the world did you get 15,546?! You only had 46 when you were on Earth! Another mystery that you were not going to spend precious time thinking about.

There was no banner either, instead it had a handprint. Errily similair to the boat you used when you first arrived here. You placed your hand on it and say.

"Show me Kamisato Ayaka's banner."

It starts to glow and you yank your hand away. The glowing stops showing Ayaka's banner with the fours stars from her most recent banner. This could be really helpful and seriously exploited.

The increase of primogems, the banner disappearing, choosing any banner, it must all be due to your power as the creator. Although the game screen is weird and mysterious, it has always helped you. Best not to question it.

You had no pity and only had enough primogems for 97 pulls, would it be enough? Putting trust into whatever luck you had, whether good or bad, you start wishing.

You press the 10 pull option and watch the night sky above you glimmer as a purple shooting star is surrounded by smaller blue shooting stars.

No wonder they believed you were some holy creator who was going to descend on Teyvat with gold blood. The sight was breathtaking.

Maybe Hoyoverse or rather Mihoyo was the true creator and you were just deluding yourself into thinking you were the creator?

Nah too far of a stretch. Plus they knew what was your favorite food, so you were most definitely still the creator.

The game screen displayed all the character constellations and weapons you won. So you kept pulling and pulling with still no Ayaka in sight.

At the 90th pull you finally saw the gold shooting star. It was the sky lighting up with a gold glow that really caught your attention. Unlike the blue stars that fizzled out quickly or the purple stars that joined others to form constellations, the gold star went farther.

It shot across Inazuma until it seemed to be over the Kamisato Estate. It gave one last bright gold glow before disappearing. Looking back at the screen, you saw Ayaka's splash art.

Satisfied, you exit the Wish system and close the screen. Hopefully her life would be easier now that she was a awakened acolyte. That she can feel loved by the creator she treasures so dearly even though you will probably never build her.

You go back to your room and lay on the bed. You fall asleep to the sounds of the waves and creaking of the boats. Completely unaware of the joyful crying from Ayaka and the celebrating Kamisato Clan.

Wanted to keep this a happy(ish) chapter. Plus I wanted a short one after the monster that was part 5. Kazu's haiku was made by me, yes I followed the rules. Like the 5, 7, 5 syllable rule. I'm pretty sure I did it correctly but idk it was my first time doing poetry. I'm just lucky it didn't need to rhyme. The next chapter will be purely boat stuff with Beidou and Kazu. For now at least, may add more as I write the draft. Also going to be counting the Liyue characters to see how many I can fit. Along with locations since Y/N is going to the Adventures guild. Perhaps as I write I'll figure out if Y/N should go to Sumeru or Mondstadt. Taglist: @vvyeislazzy, @nikqi, @the-dumber-scaramouche, @etherisy, @yourlocalstranger123, @ra404, @iruiji, @goldenglow149, @haru-tofuu, @lsleepysimpl, @bebobeboben, @yuyuzi-ling, @amidst-the-tempest, @resident-cryptid, @mxd1zzy, @mochicurls21, @nervouseaglelover, @thedevioussmirk, @yumuramma, @kwqsla, @undecidingfate, @ehjane, @game-savvy, @akiramirae, @sielt, @fluffy-koalala, @formacoon, @sxftiebee, @khxii-i, @ursinaw, @chuuya-brainrot, @sweetbills, @kazuchaos, @snowfoxnix, @bluebelony, @conspicuous-mayonnaise, @pencil-of-ashes, @ghostlyintervention, @taiformaifoe, @sielt, @goaudduck, @carminerin, @maddysflowers, @zenith-of-all-zeniths, @crazydreamcat, @leafanonsforest

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