#to be fair i have found very strange things in the woods too it happens | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

plus-size-reader · 3 years

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Devastated

Ivar the Boneless x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2794 words

Warnings: Reader cannot have children. It is covered in very little detail but content may be triggering to some. Read with caution darlings.

Summary: The reader finds out that she will never bear children, and knows that she must tell her husband, eventually.

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You were devastated.

In your entire life, you were sure that you’d never been given such bad news.

When you went to visit the Seer, the last thing you expected him to tell you about your future was that you would never be able to have children, and yet, that was just what had happened.

You begged the mighty one to reconsider, to tell you something different, but there was nothing to be done.

The reality was that you would never bear children of your own, not in all your life.

You couldn’t believe it.

Child rearing was incredibly important to you, and your people in general. You should have been able to bear strong, strapping sons to carry on their father’s name and daughters who could hold their own against any warrior.

It was your birthright as a woman, and a Princess of Kattegat, but the seer was very clear. There were no young ones in your future, at least, not any that you would carry on your own as your mother had with you.

It wasn’t going to happen.

By all accounts, you were heartbroken.

Since you were a young child, you had dreamed of becoming a mother to brave children who could bring just as much glory to Kattegat as you and all the others before you had. You owed it to the Gods, but evidently, they had a different plan.

You weren’t to be a mother.

You considered this, and everything else the seer had said as you walked down the path toward the great hall, your feet heavy beneath you. Perhaps, if you made enough offerings to Freya, something would change.

Though, you knew it would never work.

The seer had never been wrong, in all the years you’d lived. If he was ever going to be wrong, you doubted it would be over this in any case.

You couldn’t rightly ignore the facts.

Your body wasn’t fit to carry children, and if your womb couldn't support life, there was nothing you could have ever hoped to do to change that. The most you could do was accept what you knew to be true.

Which was much easier in theory than in practice.

Not only did you have to come to terms with this new reality, but you also had to share the unfortunate news with your husband, who would certainly not take it well.

Every man wanted sons, men whom they could be proud to leave their name to when they were finally called to Valhalla. The idea that you were taking that away from Ivar made you rethink everything.

Would he want to be married to you anymore when he found out? Your marriage was relatively new, and you couldn't blame him if this was something that he simply couldn’t overlook and even worse, what if he was angry?

Ivar wasn’t exactly a joy to be around when he was angry, and you fear what he may do if he blamed you for something like this.

Was it your fault?

Gods, maybe it was.

You weren’t aware that you couldn’t have children before this morning so it wasn’t as if you could have been expected to warn him before your marriage, but now that you knew, was it possible you had done something wrong.

It was really starting to feel as though you were being punished for something, but for what, you were unsure.

Surely you’d done something wrong. Why else would the Gods see fit to take your children away from you before you’d even had a chance to consider having them?

It felt like a cruel joke, one that you could never escape.

The more you thought about it, the more distracted you’d become, and before long, you found yourself entering the mouth of the great hall, where Ivar was already waiting for you.

Of course he was.

Your husband was kind to you, most of the time, when his temper didn’t have a handle on his emotions. You had never found yourself worried about speaking to him, or telling him anything before, but today was different.

Today, you found yourself more willing to go into the woods to fight a bear as Bjorn had done, rather than tell Ivar of the news you’d gotten from the seer on your visit this morning.

It was simply too much to put on one person.

“Well hello my wife, how are you?” Ivar hummed, letting his eyes fall on you in the doorway once he’d decided he was bored of watching Ubbe and Hvitserk try to best one another in an arm wrestle.

They had been going at it for the last hour or so, and it had gotten tedious shortly after that.

Hearing about what you had gotten into today seemed to interest him that much more, especially because you had taken it upon yourself to get out of bed and leave before he’d even opened his eyes.

You didn’t speak at first, instead opting to admire the man you loved in a silent contemplation of how he was feeling today.

If he was already in a sour mood, you weren’t going to dare bring something like this up.

Still, compared to how Ivar acted on his worst days, he seemed rather content today. If nothing else, he was bored, which you couldn’t really fault him for. His mother had more or less kept him here his entire life.

He didn’t voyage away from Kattegat and he never was one for frivolous activities to pass the time.

In any case, if there was ever going to be a good opportunity to have such a sensitive conversation with him, it was now. At least, you had a better chance of him staying calm, rather than getting angry.

“I’m just fine, Ivar, how are you?” you hummed, sitting down beside him as gingerly as you could without disturbing him, though you were more in your head than you’d ever been.

You knew that you should pay attention as he told you about what he’d gotten up to today, not missing the subtle comments he made about you leaving him to wake up on his own, but you couldn’t focus on anything more than the sinking in your gut.

Deep down, you knew that he would blame you.

That it was bad enough that you weren’t as fair or petite as his brother’s wives, and that his father had arranged your marriage, but now, you wouldn't even be able to bear his children for him.

You had been rather fortunate to avoid Ivar’s wrath before now, though you’d seen it pretty frequently, and you could feel that luck running out. You knew that this would upset him, that he would be angry.

You just weren’t sure what you could do about that.

It would be foolish to believe that you could keep this from him forever.

Eventually, he was bound to put the pieces together when you couldn’t get pregnant, and even if he didn’t, the seer was sure to mention it to him at some point.

You could only keep this from him for so long, and if he found out you knew this long before he did, he would punish you for sure.

So, as much as it made your stomach turn, you knew that you only really had one choice.

“What did you do today that was so important?” he questioned, all but snapping in your face to get your attention once he’d finished speaking, only to find you as far away as ever.

Clearly, your head was a million miles away, and while that normally would have frustrated Ivar, he found himself strangely concerned for your wellbeing. Usually, when he spoke, you hung on every word.

Today, it was as if he wasn’t even here.

“I went to visit the seer, about the strange way I’ve been feeling” you shrugged, hoping that wouldn’t bring on any other questions from him.

This was your chance.

All you had to do was tell him.

Though, when you raised your eyes to meet his, you found that same knot in your belly twisted up even more. There was no way that you could tell him, he would never understand.

Still, you knew that at some point, he was sure to pull it out of you. He always did, no matter what it was you tried to keep away.

“Well, what did he tell you?” came his second question, the one you’d been anticipating, and trying to avoid, this entire time.

You did your best not to let the heavy sigh building in your chest escape as you tried to figure out how to word what you had to say, your eyes falling on both Hvitserk and Ubbe across the room.

It was bad enough that you were about to tell Ivar the worst news you’d ever gotten, but now, you had to do it with them within earshot? It was perfect. The entire Ragnarsson clan could hate you at once.

Not that them being here was a completely bad thing.

At least with his brothers in the room, there was less of a chance that Ivar could get so angry with you.

Perhaps they would be a good buffer for you.

In any case, you knew that you had reached the end of your very minimal stalling. If you waited any longer, the more you were sure that Ivar’s peaceful mood and ticking patience would fade.

The longer you waited, the harder it would be.

“There is nothing outrightly wrong” you allowed, doing your best to make him feel better about that, at the very least. It wasn’t a lie, just as much as it wasn’t exactly the truth. You weren’t dying, or seriously ill.

You just weren’t as you thought you were this morning.

“Then why were you away for so long? Surely the seer was able to tell you something” he groaned, bothered that you had been away for so many hours without so much as a warning to him.

After all, you had been missing from his side since before he opened his eyes, something he had never really taken kindly to.

You nodded, sorry that your clear absence had upset him so much before you finally let that sigh fall from your lips.

“Yes, he did, but the news is rather difficult to accept,” you warned, forcing some words out when you found the truth unable to leave your tongue. With every second that passed, you could just feel his patience leaving him.

However, even with all the blatant stalling you were doing, Ivar remained as calm as he could.

It was clear to him that no matter what you said, there was something you were keeping from him. The only question Ivar really had was why?

In all the time that you had been married, he was always kind to you. He took care of you as any husband should and though his temper was a bit harsh at times, he was always careful to be fair and gentle when he spoke to you.

All in all, Ivar thought himself to be a good husband but perhaps he was wrong.

He couldn’t imagine anything that could be so bad that you were so timid to tell him.

“Y/N, what did the seer tell you?” he prompted, shocking you a bit with the use of your name. Ivar never used your name, not if he could help it, always instead opting for ‘wife’ or ‘darling’ if he really wanted something.

It was never Y/N with him.

“I cannot have children, Ivar. Not ever” you finally broke, desperately wishing that you hadn’t said anything to begin with.

You should have been able to do this, and you both knew it.

Still, once you’d finally built up the courage to look, the upset that you expected from Ivar wasn’t anywhere to be seen on his face.

Instead, he wore an expression that was almost confused.

That was what you were so afraid to tell him?

You had come in here after a day of absence, as closed off and cagey as he’d ever seen you in all the time that you’d known him and that was what it was about? He just couldn’t believe that was the thing that you hesitated to share.

Of all the things it could have been, he would have thought that among the first that you could talk with him about if need be.

Not that you could read all of that from his silence and pensive expression.

From where you were sitting, you were even further convinced that he was about to tell you that he couldn’t be married to someone that couldn’t give him children, and that you would be on your own once again.

News that you couldn’t have been more unwilling to hear.

While your marriage to Ivar had been his mother’s idea in the beginning, you had begun to really care for him in the time you’d been married. Separating from him was sure to break your heart.

No matter the circumstances.

“And you’re upset by that?” he hummed, after a few seconds of silence between the two of you, a casual question that seemed so out of place in such a serious, tense conversation.

It was so strange.

He truly seemed as if he didn’t understand what the big deal was.

Though, you were talking to a man who had never truly been sure children were in his future to begin with. Not to mention the fact that even if he knew he was physically able, Ivar didn’t know how he felt about fathering offspring.

After all, if they had to live life anything like he did, he wasn’t sure it was worth it.

So, the idea that you couldn’t bear his children didn’t bother Ivar as much as you’d been expecting. Something that would have made you feel better, had you not been heartbroken over it.

You wanted to have children, all your life, so now knowing that you couldn’t, it felt as if something you’d never even had, had been stolen from you.

“Of course I’m upset, Ivar. Are you not?” you sighed, shocked at how this conversation had so drastically changed from what you’d been expecting. All this time, you thought your husband would be the most affected by this.

All the while, he remained almost entirely unphased by the news that you were barren.

It was almost insulting.

“Did you really expect to have children when we married, anyway?” he asked, his question giving you pause for a moment.

You supposed you’d never really thought about it before.

He had a point.

There was never any real guarantee that you were going to be a mother with him in any case, a fact that hadn’t even been important enough to cross your mind when you were getting married.

“I never thought much about it” you allowed, your eyes once again sinking to the floor as you thought about everything that had somehow changed, in the matter of a few hours.

It was hard not to feel as if your body had betrayed your trust, taking away something you had always thought to be promised.

You were upset, and rightfully so.

Ivar may not have ever considered himself a father, in any capacity, but that didn’t mean that your upset was any less real. He’d had his entire life to come to terms with this, whereas you’d only known for a day.

Of course it bothered you, and even if he didn’t really get why you were allowing something like this to get to you so much, he could recognize that you were hurting.

...and what kind of husband would he be if he left his grieving wife to her own devices.

“I understand that you are distressed by the seer’s news, but I promise you, it changes nothing between us” Ivar assured, his fingers brushing over the top of your hand as he held it between you.

It wasn’t the most comforting gesture outside of this moment, a simple hand holding as it were, but coming from Ivar, it made all the difference in the world.

As desperate as you were to change the state of your body, and as much as you wished it wasn’t the way it was, you knew that nothing could be done.

All you could do now was move on as best you could, and perhaps, sometime down the line, the gods may gift you with a child that you could care for.

Even if such a child wasn’t of Ivar’s and your own.

At least, until then, you had Ivar by your side.

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wattpadscapcons · 2 years

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🍄 ello wanted to wait a bit before sending in an ask but can I have fluff prompt 30 with bede? If you want you can change it to Piers (please don't write both)

I can surely try my best.

Prompt 30. “How come you always end up under my blanket?”

I did something different with this, so I hope that's ok.

Bede w/ Prompt 30

Bede is a simple man with simple wishes, and right now, he'd just wish you'd give him space for five minutes. Or at least, that's how he's coming off to you. Not that it actually stops you from following him around the region, cheering him on in tournaments, and generally being the best partner you could be for him. It's very strange for a champion to do, especially after all the times he tried to put you down in the past. Though he told you was fair due to the amount of times you've kicked his ass in pokémon battles.

You're never detoured from trying to be close to him, in a way that still had him comfortable of course. He's grown to accept it over the years, and you playfully call him a tsundere every time he tries to deny it. The few times you haven't trailed behind him felt off, this just happened to be another one of those days for him. How he even let you that close to him in the first place is a secret the two of you share from everyone. Him out of pride, and you to protect his privacy, which he's appreciated for the last five years he's known you.

You had some work to do in Hammerlocke, while he was stuck in the gym waiting for the newest arrivals of challengers. Sadly he wouldn't have anyone to praise his efforts this afternoon. Very few challengers led to his job being uneventful and boring to say the least. He spends a majority of the time cleaning up, prepping his pokémon, and scrolling through social media on his phone.

He wasn't really surprised that you didn't show up after his job was done for the day, but it's somewhat disappointing.

"Just where are you now Y/N? I know I won't find you anywhere near Hammerlocke, it's been too long for you to stay in one place. I wish you wouldn't constantly play hide and seek with me, it gets to be quite old after a while."

He never really knew what it was that you were doing. All he knew was that he'd never find you in the same place twice. He'd try to call you but there's always a chance of you being in the middle of a battle. About 75% of the time he's called, that just happened to be the case.

"Well, I know that if I don't go looking for them, they'll come back eventually. Let them be the seeker this time around."

Bede decided to play a game of his own this time, hiding in a spot that you'd never think to look for him, the Slumbering Weald. He thinks of the amount of panic it'd cause you to search the entire region just looking for him, just for him to be near your old home in Postwick. For a split second he thinks that the idea be in a bit of poor taste. After the amount of times you've given him a heart attack for doing the exact same thing though, he thinks it's entirely fair.

He made sure not to tell anyone where he was going, including Opal, before making his way over to Postwick. It's dark enough outside for him to not be noticed easily, as no one's really out to see him jump the fence and trail further into the woods. He was never really bothered by the Slumbering Weald after you found Zacian/Zamazenta, as the ruins seem to be rather peaceful now. At night, it was eerie, but nothing he couldn't handle. If he could deal with the mischief of the Allister's ghost types, then he could surely spend the night there with no issues.

"All that's left to do is wait."

It took an hour before you had started sending him texts.

'Where are you?'

'I thought you'd wait up for me.'

'Are you seriously going to make me come look for you?'

'It's only fair.'

'Are you ok Bede?'

'I'm fine. Just consider this payback for how many times I've had to track you down in the last year.'

'Fair enough. You want to give me a hint?'

'It's calm. That's all you're getting from me.'

'Alright then. Just don't fall asleep on me if it takes me all night.'

'I can't make that promise.'

'Oh come on.'

'Goodnight Y/N.'

'I'm so going to get you back for this.'

'I would expect as much. See you whenever you get here.'

You only had a few guesses to go off with the clue he did give you, and none of the places you thought of seemed to be right. You were starting to get frustrated before you thought to check wooded areas. It only took you....a few hours to find him. By then, he was asleep in his tent, curled up with a peaceful expression on his face.

You tried your best to slip in and cuddle up next to him without waking him up. Sadly, he's a light sleeper, so he almost jolted awake upon your bodies making contact.

"It's only me. Calm down."

"So you finally found me...."

"Yeah it took me a little while..."

"Mm..."

"Sorry that it took me so long."

"That just shows I picked a good spot to hide."

"Yeah, it definitely wasn't where I was thinking you'd be."

"......."

"What?"

"How come you always end up under my blanket?"

"Probably because I want to be as close to you as possible. Would you rather me carry you home?"

"I'm fine spending the night here."

"Maybe we should take a camping trip together."

"So long as it's just us."

#bede pokemon #bede pkmn #pkmn bede #trainer bede #bede x reader #pokemon x reader #pokemon trainer #pkmn #pokemon #pokemon swsh #bede swsh

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daryl-dixon-daydreams · 3 years

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Words: 8,347 Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Reader Reader pronouns: she/her Era: the Greene farm Warnings: Language, violence, gore, attempted sexual assault, discussions of trauma, typical TWD A/N: This is Part 1 of the new miniseries! This should be 2 or 3 parts total, and it's kind of intense and a bit dark at certain points so heed the warnings ya'll. Summary: Y/N is considered quiet, standoffish, and even a bit odd by the group, but Daryl knows how much she does around camp to care for everyone. After a traumatic incident while searching for Sophia, Daryl starts to discover why Y/N is the way she is.

Your name: submit What is this?

The group was all sitting around the low campfire, eating some breakfast. The two Greene girls came out with baskets in hand. Beth approached Rick and held hers out. “We have some more eggs for you all. Our hens lay more than we can eat,” she said.

Rick gratefully accepted them with an earnest look and a nod. “Thank you. That’s very kind.”

“And some potatoes,” Maggie offered. Lori grabbed her basket.

“Really, you all are being so kind. If there’s anything we can do to help around the place just let us know,” she said.

Beth was looking off into the distance at you sitting alone, away from the group, your back to the farmstead. “What’s wrong with her?” she asked, without really thinking.

“Beth!” Maggie scolded her.

“Well, I—I just mean she never eats with ya’ll. She seems like she’s always off on her own,” Beth explained, a little sheepish from her sister’s scolding.

The rest of the group was looking your direction now too, many of them asking the same questions in their minds.

“C’mon, now. That’s enough,” Maggie said. “Daddy needs help with the laundry.”

The group watched them head back to the farmhouse and Shane was the next one to break the silence. “It’s a fair question,” he said, chuckling to himself wryly, glancing back over his shoulder at you before leaning in to grab another helping of breakfast. “She hasn’t exactly meshed into the fabric of the group, has she?”

“Shane, give it a rest,” Lori said sternly.

“No offense meant but I don’t think I’ve ever heard her say more than two words at a time,” Andrea said. “You can’t pretend like there isn’t something… odd there.”

Dale hummed. “Not that it’s really our business, but she’s never said anything about what happened to her before we found her out by the quarry. I’ve tried to ask her about her family, what she used to do before all this,” he shrugged vaguely. “Never got a thing out of her. That’s her right if she doesn’t want to talk about it, but it does seem a little strange.”

“That’s all I’m sayin’,” Shane said. “Somethin’ weird with that girl,” he trailed off.

Daryl stood up, annoyed. “Ya’ll are a buncha busy body gossips. If ya’d open your damn eyes for two seconds you’d realize she does more for this group than most of ya combined,” he growled. “She gathered that wood burnin’ in your fire right there. Them mushrooms mixed in with your damn eggs, who the hell ya think found those? Ya think they just magically appeared along with that stuff you’re usin’ to make tea every night?” He tossed his empty plate down on the grass and scoffed. “People who don’t trust easily usually got a damn good reason. ’M outta here.”

Shane watched him go in slight amusement, but most of the others looked a little ashamed of themselves. Daryl was right, of course. You did do a lot for the group. You just kept to yourself. You didn’t make a big show of bringing back some meat or foraged food. You never complained when Rick or Shane asked you to do something. You took more than your fair share of the night watches. And the fact that no one knew anything about your past, the fact that you didn’t talk much, didn’t need any explanation to Daryl. Based on his own background, he could guess there was a reason you were the way you were.

A short time later, Daryl noticed you gathering up your pack and grabbing your pistol and recurve bow. He wandered over as you were snapping your knife into its sheath at your hip. “Ya headin’ out to search again?” he asked softly. You and him seemed to be the only ones who hadn’t completely given up hope of finding Sophia. You simply nodded once.

“Alright,” Daryl drawled. “What’s your plan?” Asking a question that wasn’t a simple yes or no was always a toss-up with you. Half the time he’d get a short answer, half the time he wouldn’t.

“North side of the ridge,” you said. Your voice was always quiet and measured. The archer usually wished most people would talk less, but with you he always hoped to hear more. The little that you said was purposeful and deliberate. There was no idle bullshit.

He nudged his nose up in a nod at you. “Alright. I’ll start by that creek and work along the south side. We can be close by in case either of us gets into trouble with walkers,” he said.

You simply nodded again and gave him a long thoughtful look. You did that a lot. Daryl had the feeling there was a lot going on behind your eyes, but you never spoke any of it. Surprisingly, he never felt nervous or uncomfortable when you looked at him like that. He just hoped someday maybe you’d open up a little bit more. The next moment you had turned and were heading toward the tree line already. Daryl scrambled to gather his gear and set off after you.

He could see your figure ahead, disappearing into the brush and soon he couldn’t see or hear you at all. He set out along the south side of the ridge as planned, picking his way along the creek, scrutinizing every inch of ground and hoping for a shoeprint.

Along the north side you were doing the same. You frequently knelt to examine some little scrape in the litter or soil and as you went you filled the little cloth bag you carried with edible and medicinal plants, berries, and fungi. The day wore on with no sign of the little girl and your frustration and fear grew even as the sun reached its apex in the sky and started to drift back down toward the western horizon.

You turned and started picking a new path back, heading toward the farm now rather than away. The deepening shadows made detecting print or trail more difficult but you kept your focus sharp on the ground as you moved, your bow slung over your shoulder next to your quiver.

You were becoming tired when you noticed an impression in the mud. You knelt, one knee of your jeans sinking into the damp soil. It was a boot print, but certainly not left by Sophia. You stared at the detail of the sole impression and your brow drew down low immediately. You have everyone’s shoe designs memorized. It wasn’t one you recognized. Your eyes drifted up and you could see a worn trail through the underbrush and more prints, heavy in the mud. There were at least three men who had left this trail, and they weren’t walkers. The path was straight ahead with no stagger and you could tell they were picking their way through the underbrush. You crouched and started to follow the trail. You needed to get eyes on these people. They were awfully close to the farm… Close enough, certainly, to see the smoke rising from the chimney and your fire circles.

You ghosted through the woods following the trail, moving as silently as you could. You’d been on the path for probably ten minutes when you could hear careless, noisy movement ahead. You must have caught up with them. Your heart hammering in your chest, you stayed low and crept closer. As you moved around a partially downed tree you could finally see the shapes of two men ahead. They were scruffy and filthy, clearly living on the move in the woods. You needed a closer look. You wanted to see what kinds of weapons they had on them. If you could scout out the group, you could determine whether something needed to be done about them or not.

As you tried to shift to another patch of concealing cover, you didn’t notice your bow catching on a low hanging dead branch. By the time you felt the resistance it was too late. The whole branch pulled loose with a loud snapping sound as it bent and cracked other dried branches and twigs on its way down. The two men you had been watching spun immediately and had weapons raised, rifles pointed in your direction. You were swearing under your breath and instantly on your feet aiming your pistol right back.

“Well, shit! What the hell do we have here?” one of the men asked, shifting a little to get a better look at you. “You alone out here, sweetheart?”

You fell an immediate swell of anger and dread rising up in your chest.

“What’s the matter? Cat got your tongue?” the second man asked, grinning and revealing teeth that were tobacco stained and yellow.

“What’s a fine little thing like you doing out here by yourself? Don’t you know it’s dangerous? There are all kinds of monsters in these woods,” the first man said, looking you up and down thoroughly. His companion laughed.

Fuck. This was bad. Why had you pushed your luck and crept in so closely? Now you were outnumbered and you knew there was at least one other man somewhere that you didn’t have eyes on.

Your chest was heaving with anxious breaths from the rush of adrenaline. The first man stepped a bit closer again and you responded by taking a measured step back, your pistol aimed squarely at his chest. Now what? Should you make a run for it? Would they shoot you? Based on the animalistic looks in their eyes you knew things could go very bad, very quickly if you couldn’t get the fuck out of there. Your mind was whirring.

Suddenly, you heard a stick crack behind you and you turned instinctively to see a third man now rushing you. He landed a fist into your jaw and your vision went black as you fell to the ground, holding onto your pistol as tightly as you could. The pain radiating from your jaw into your head was overwhelming. You blinked, willing the darkness to clear, but it lingered as you suddenly felt rough hands on you, rolling you over and ripping both your bow and rifle from your back.

You struggled blindly and managed to get yourself onto your back again as the darkness in your eyes faded instead to the outlines of blurred shapes. You could make out the shape of the man standing over you and you instinctively raised your pistol and squeezed several rounds which sounded like cracks of thunder in the close woods. You missed, the scene still foggy, and you immediately squeezed again and discharged another round but the man leapt down on you with a wild yell, knocking your arm to the side and pinning it into the ground. His weight pressed down on you and you were vaguely aware of an acrid smell filling your nostrils, causing bile to rise up in your throat. He pried your pistol from your hand and tossed it away into the brush.

You writhed beneath him, struggling to get clear of his grasp but he was much bigger than you and soon there was another set of hands on you. You were rolled onto your stomach again and your arms were pulled back behind you and held painfully tight.

“We got ourselves a wild cat here, boys!” one of the men laughed. “Get her up,” he ordered. You were pulled roughly onto your feet, still trying to blink away the remaining fuzziness in your eyes and struggling against your captor.

The first man, who seemed to be the leader, paced over, watching you with a look of satisfaction on his face as you still tried to fight loose. His rifle was now dropped casually by his side. He grabbed your chin cruelly and pulled it up so you looked right into his eyes. His fingers dug into the tender spot on your jaw where the other man had hit you. “Ain’t you a pretty little thing,” he murmured silkily.

You yanked your face from his grasp and he chuckled, glancing back at the other man standing just behind him. “She’s a good one,” he said, a sick smirk on his face. He looked back at you and his eyes roamed perversely over your body. “This’ll be fun.”

He turned violent and grabbed the front of your light cotton shirt, ripping it harshly down off one shoulder, tearing the breezy plaid fabric easily and popping off the first three buttons. The man holding you only tightened his grip. Your throat constricted so tightly it was hard to breathe. You felt like your heart was beating so hard that it would surely burst. You could feel everyone’s eyes on your newly bared skin. Next the leader withdrew a knife and pressed the point into the center of your chest just above your bra. You cringed at the feeling of the biting cold metal pricking your skin.

He stepped close into you and moved the knife up to your throat, pressing it to the side of your neck and drawing it lightly across your skin just enough to cut you. You winced and shut your eyes, trying to keep as still as possible with that blade to your throat and you soon felt a rivulet of warmth rolling down toward your collarbone. You opened your eyes as the knife left your throat and he slipped it under your exposed bra strap, rotating it and lifted up until the fabric started to separate along the sharp edge. Finally, it gave and the strap hung loosely down. He sucked in a hiss of breath through his teeth, his eyes hungry and crazed. “This will be a lot easier on you if you just cooperate. Then again… I like a woman with some fight in her,” he snarled. “Your choice.” His companions let out more appreciative laughter as fear twisted your stomach.

You felt yourself going numb. Suddenly, you couldn’t feel any pain anymore. You couldn’t feel the man’s hands pinning your arms back. You couldn’t feel the blood that was now running down your chest. Your eyes drifted to the leader’s cold, blue blade and then unfocused so the scene simply became a haze. And you suddenly realized that they hadn’t taken your knife. It was still in its sheath on your hip…

A short distance away, Daryl had been thinking that it was probably about time to call it a day and head back when he heard a series of loud gunshots. His body went rigid and he turned frantically, staring off into the brush. He strained his hearing to its limit. They’d definitely come from your direction. Abandoning any other thought, he sprung into motion, racing through the woods as fast as he could in the direction he thought the blasts had come from.

Back in camp, everyone else had heard the shots too. Shane turned and looked at Rick, his gaze intense.

“Were those gun shots?” Lori asked, fear in her voice.

“Yeah,” Rick said, rising to his feet and rushing to grab his gun from the stash of weapons in the RV. “Shane, T, Glenn, let’s go! The rest of you stay here!”

Hershel stepped out onto the porch and watched the group of men racing across the pasture toward the trees. He had a bad feeling in his gut. Maggie and Beth came out, the slamming screen door punctuating the piercing silence that fell after the shots.

Daryl smashed through the brush carelessly, his eyes scanning the ground for a trail, any trail, something to follow. Finally, his eyes locked on boot prints that were surely yours. He vaguely registered that there were much larger impressions in the soil too, several different boots much larger than yours. And they certainly weren’t from walkers.

“Son of a bitch,” he cursed under his breath. He froze and scanned the thick greenery. He strained his hearing again, listening for some sound, anything, to give him an idea of what was happening. Please don’t let me be too late, he thought frantically. He took off again but more cautiously, following the tracks you had clearly also discovered. Probably what had led you right into something…

Rick and the others were well into the trees now but Shane stopped everyone. “Rick, what the hell are we doin’ man? We don’t have a clue where Y/N and Daryl are. We can’t just go blindly crashing through here or we’re gonna end up in a bad spot too.”

Rick’s eyes frantically whirred over the seemingly endless tree trunks.

“Wait—I saw Y/N’s map yesterday. She had the whole thing sectioned out into search areas,” Glenn said. “Most of them were already crossed off.”

“Well, which ones weren’t?” Shane urged, checking to make sure there was a round chambered in his gun.

“Uhh—” Glenn’s mind raced. “I think—I think by that ridge, straight north of here. But I can’t be sure,” he trailed off.

Rick rubbed a hand over his face. They all listened for any sound, but the woods were oppressively silent now. “Shit…” he cursed under his breath.

“It’s the best we got,” T gasped, out of breath from the frenetic dash from camp.

Rick nodded. “Alright. Then we head north. Keep your heads on a swivel and your eyes peeled for any sign of Y/N or Daryl.”

Daryl moved as swiftly along the trail as he could. Suddenly, he spotted something lying on top of the litter out of the corner of his eye. Your pistol. Daryl grabbed it and the muzzle was still warm. Clearly, you’d been the one to fire at least some of those shots. “Fuck. Fuck…” He tucked it into his waistband and moved more cautiously now. His heart was pounding and sweat was pouring down his forehead. His knuckles were white on his crossbow. He rounded a downed tree and froze when he saw a dark shape on the ground ahead. His heart dropped into his stomach. Please don’t let it be Y/N… He was almost paralyzed with fear but he forced himself to take another couple steps. As he rounded the brush and straightened up, he knew it wasn’t you but his apprehension didn’t evaporate. It was a large man, clearly dead, completely covered in blood. The hair on the back of Daryl’s neck suddenly stood on end and he spun around, his crossbow up to his eye, ready to fire. But he dropped it involuntarily as he took in the scene before him, his jaw dropping partially open and his eyes narrowing as he tried to figure out what the fuck he was seeing.

You were standing there in front of him trembling from head to toe, your hands out in front of you with your knife clutched in one like it was a lifeline. Daryl could easily see the shakiness in your hands. You were completely covered in blood. Your clothing and skin were soaked in it, like you’d bathed in a crimson river. There was thick splatter on your face, neck, and chest. Your eyes were wide and fixed and you didn’t show any awareness that he was there in front of you. Daryl registered that your shirt was torn down from one shoulder and your bra strap had been cut. He didn’t need an explanation to know what the fuck had happened and rage swelled in his chest, stoking an intense fire. His eyes drifted down to two more bodies lying at your feet, each with uncountable stab wounds and one with his throat cut, his clothing drenched. The metallic smell of blood was in the air and Daryl could almost taste it on his tongue.

Still you showed no awareness that he was there. You seemed frozen, catatonic. He now registered that you had slash wounds through the fabric of your sleeves and cuts on your arms. Defensive wounds where you had blocked a knife attack. There was a purposeful cut partially up the hem of your jeans at the bottom, clearly from one of the men… It was nearly impossible to tell if you were hurt anywhere else because there was just so much blood…

“Jesus fucking Christ,” he murmured. “Y/N?” He took a cautious step toward you. “Y/N? Can ya hear me?”

Nothing. No reaction at all.

Just then Daryl heard the noise of several people in the woods nearby and he planted himself between you and the sound, raising his crossbow. “Ya better get the fuck outta here unless ya want an arrow between the eyes!” he roared.

Rick straightened up. That was Daryl. “Daryl?!”

Daryl gulped. “…Rick?”

“Yeah, it’s me, Shane, Glenn, and T! We’re comin’ to you! Are you alright?”

Daryl glanced back at you again. You were still just standing there shaking. “‘M fine. Wasn’t me who fired…” Daryl swung his pack off his back and dug inside it.

The men crashed through the underbrush and came into view, taking in the scene. “Oh my God.” The words spilled from Glenn’s lips. They were all glancing from the bloody bodies on the ground to your blood-soaked figure.

“Jesus Christ,” Shane uttered, pacing closer and bending to look at the slash wound in the one corpse’s neck. Daryl finally laid hands on his poncho and yanked it out of his bag. He turned to look at you and began approaching cautiously. “Y/N? It’s Daryl. Can ya hear me?”

Nothing.

Rick was slack-jawed as he looked at the scene. “Daryl… be careful,” he cautioned, eyeing the knife still gripped in your fist.

Daryl glanced back at him. “She ain’t gonna do nothin’ to me,” he drawled.

“Do you see this?” Glenn asked him urgently indicating the bodies. “This is insane. You don’t know that! She looks completely out of it, like she doesn’t even know we’re here!”

Daryl’s jaw clenched and he turned back to look at you again. “Don’t ya fuckin’ see her? She’s terrified. Look at her clothes. They were tryin’ to rape her,” he growled. “They deserve what they got.”

Shane straightened up from examining the bodies, glancing furtively over at you. “Maybe but… on the force, we’d call this ‘overkill’,” he said, backing up and exchanging a glance with Rick.

Daryl ignored him. “Y/N? It’s alright. You’re safe. Nobody is gonna hurt ya. Just lemme take your knife, okay?” There was no recognition on your face, your eyes still wide and fixed, until Daryl’s hand gently closed over yours and started to open your hand around the handle of your knife. He could feel you shaking beneath his fingers. “S’alright,” he said softly as your eyes landed on his face and then locked with his. Your brow drew down low, casting a shadow over the vaguely confused look on your face. As Daryl gently took your knife, he could see there was a very deep gash in your palm. It was bleeding heavily. He guessed it was either another defensive wound from you putting your hands up to stop one of the men’s knives or otherwise your hand, slick with blood, had slipped down onto your own blade when you’d been fighting them. “Glenn, get some gauze out of my pack and bring it over here,” he said. He spoke calmly and softly. He glanced back over at Glenn when he didn’t move from his slack-jawed frozen position. “Glenn. Gauze.” Glenn snapped himself out of it and went to Daryl’s bag. The archer gulped and draped his poncho over you, covering your ripped shirt. “S’alright,” he murmured again.

You didn’t take your eyes off his face. He wasn’t even sure if you realized the others were there. Glenn walked forward and handed Daryl the small roll of sterile gauze before backing up slowly. The look in your eyes was haunted and dazed and it left all of them feeling empty and concerned.

Daryl opened your hand flat and your eyes drifted down to watch him wrap the bandage over the wound on your palm. You couldn’t feel it. You couldn’t really feel anything, except Daryl’s hands on yours.

Shane turned to Rick. “Rick, what the hell are we gonna do about this? We can’t just waltz her back into camp covered in blood. You don’t want the others seein’ this… Carl? Lori? Or Hershel. Look at her. She looks completely unstable. This might be enough for him to kick us out right now.” He looked back at you over his shoulder.

Rick sighed heavily. “So, we’ll get her cleaned up first.”

Daryl was keeping one ear on the conversation going on behind him. “She needs stitches on this hand,” he drawled. “And who knows how else she’s hurt. Can’t see a damn thing on her right now. And since ya’ll are more worried about yourselves than her, I’ll take care of it. Why don’t ya just get the hell outta here,” Daryl growled.

Glenn stepped forward. “We are worried about her. But you have to admit that this is—this is—” He didn’t even know what word to use. Daryl just stared at him. You were hugging your arms around yourself now, still shaking. Your eyes were downcast, staring unseeing at the ground.

“Listen, I don’t give a shit what ya do. I’m gettin’ her outta here and taken care of.” He hastily shouldered his pack and his crossbow.

“Just—Daryl,” Rick started, pinching the bridge of his nose, the situation weighing on him heavily. “Clean her up a bit before you take her to Hershel to be looked over.”

The archer eyed him through a narrow glare for a moment before he nodded. He turned back to you, your frame swallowed up in his poncho. “C’mon. Let’s get ya home,” he said gently. Your eyes snapped up to his face again and you allowed him to lead you back toward the farmstead.

He picked a path carefully and finally the two of you broke out from the edge of the forest. The others back in the camp were staring at the tree line, wracked with nerves. Lori straightened up as she recognized movement. “Dale—someone just stepped out.”

Dale, standing on the RV, raised his binoculars to his eyes. “Oh my,” slipped from his lips.

“What? Who is it?” Carol asked anxiously.

“I think it’s Y/N and Daryl,” Dale said. “I can’t quite tell properly, but I think something is wrong with Y/N.” He squinted into the binoculars again. “My God. Her jeans are covered in blood and it—it looks like there’s blood on her neck, her face…”

Carol pressed a hand over her mouth. “Is she hurt?” she asked anxiously. “Was she bit?”

Dale shook his head, lowering the binoculars again. “They’re too far. I can’t tell what’s going on.”

Daryl looked up to see everyone standing almost in a line watching the two of you as you started across the field. He gulped and then put a hand lightly on your back, nervous and unsure of how you would react to the contact. He guided you toward his camp which was closest and was set apart from everyone else’s.

“C’mon and sit down, alright. We’re just gonna clean ya up a bit and then take ya to Hershel.” The look in your eyes was worrying him immensely but you sat down on a round of wood pulled up near the fire ring. He anxiously chewed on his bottom lip, trying to figure out how he could reassure you. “Hey. S’alright. You’re safe.”

You met his blue eyes and he finally saw some sense of relief in them. His stomach flipped at the way they softened and he nodded. He took in the sight of you in his poncho again and realized you’d need something else to wear to go see Hershel that wasn’t half ripped off you. “I’m gonna, uhh—” he cleared his throat nervously. “I’ll put a clean shirt out on my cot for ya. Ya can change in in my tent and then we’ll just clean ya up a bit, alright?” He knew better than to wait for a response and climbed to his feet and disappeared into his tent to set the clothes out. He dug around in his duffel bag until he found one that was still folded tightly, definitely clean, and he set it out for you. You watched the handsome archer reemerge from inside his tent and nod his head toward it. “Alright. Go ahead. I’ll just be right out here.”

He watched you get up and disappear, zipping the door behind you. He paced in front of the fire circle, rubbing his thumb over his bottom lip thoughtfully as the image of you standing there in the woods, frozen, absolutely soaked in blood with your shirt half torn surged forward in his mind and he felt another sickening swell of anger. Jesus. Things could have gone so bad with those men… and they were fucking lucky they were already dead when he got there.

The soft rustling of the tent fabric interrupted his thoughts and you stepped out in his long-sleeved flannel, looking a bit dazed still but more grounded. He nudged his nose up in a nod. “C’mon and sit down,” he said, gesturing to the round of wood again. You sank down on it. Daryl grabbed a bucket of clean water that had been warming in the sun all day. He grabbed a cloth from inside his tent and caught sight of your bloody and torn shirt discarded on the floor, feeling another tight twist between his lungs, like someone had tugged a knot there.

You watched him kneel down in front of you and sink the cloth into the bucket of water, wringing it out before bringing it close to your face. He hesitated short of touching you. “S’this alright?” he drawled.

You gave him a questioning look but finally nodded, just one slight tip of your chin. You closed your eyes as the fabric came in contact with your cheek and Daryl started wiping away the blood. The cloth stained crimson quickly. He cleaned the splatters from across your forehead and your nose and the spots on the other side of your face. With the red stains gone, Daryl could see the shadow of a deep bruise along the side of your jaw. Without thinking he gently clasped your chin and turned your head so he could examine it, a heavy shadow falling over his blue eyes. He sunk the cloth back into the bucket of water and wrung it out again, this time pressing it to the side of your neck.

Despite how gentle he was being, you involuntarily sucked in a sharp hiss of air through your teeth as the cloth found the cut on the side of your neck from the leader’s knife. Your eyes blinked open through your wince.

“Sorry,” Daryl drawled, pulling back to look at the wound. “Jesus… Those assholes had a knife to your neck?” he asked. It was rhetorical and he didn’t expect an answer. He wiped at the blood spatter and you closed your eyes again, trying to breathe deeply and still the trembling you still felt wracking through you. Daryl could hear a shaky quality in your breathing. Soon, your face and neck were clean and Daryl turned his attention to your hands. Your eyes were still shut as he rinsed the cloth out again in the bucket. “Lemme see your hands,” he said softly. You found the deep gravel of his voice comforting.

Out of everyone in your group, you usually felt like Daryl was the only one who really saw you. You’d wanted to get to know him better, but held yourself back. He seemed to seek solitude like you did, and you didn’t want to force yourself into his world.

He took your hand, your palm resting against his, and he swept the cloth lightly over the back of it and down each finger. The sensation sent goosebumps rising on your skin and you glanced up at the concerned and intent expression on his face curiously. You couldn’t even remember the last time anyone had shown you so much attention and care. He took your other hand in his now, the one with gauze around it and the deep gash in your palm. He rubbed the blood from the back of each finger and then flipped it over in his hand. He frowned as he noticed that your blood had soaked through the bandage. “Probably need stitches on this one,” he murmured softly. The cloth tickled over the underside of each finger now, sweeping off the ends. “Alright. Push up them sleeves,” he said, dunking the cloth into the bucket again for what felt like the hundredth time.

“What?” He was startled by your voice and his eyes snapped up to look at you.

He straightened up, one of his eyebrows quirking down at the question. “Ya had a buncha cuts on your arms. We need to clean ‘em up and check ‘em. See if ya need stitches anywhere else.”

You shook your head.

He gave you a questioning look for a long moment and chewed on his bottom lip. “Alright. Ya can do it. I’ll just go tell Hershel you’re on your way in, alright?”

You stared at him for another long moment as he set the cloth on the edge of the bucket, whose water was now stained a dark pink. You glanced up as he climbed to his feet and nodded.

“Alright,” he said. “C’mon up when you’re done and we’ll get that hand taken care of.”

Daryl started over toward the farmhouse and as he approached Carol rushed up to him. “What happened?” she urged him. “Are you okay? Is Y/N?”

He stopped, his hand on one hip. He glanced back out toward the trees and saw the rest of the group making their way back toward camp across the field. “‘M fine,” he drawled. “Y/N ran into some men out there when we were searchin’.”

“Men? What men? What happened? Is she alright?”

Daryl chewed his bottom lip and shrugged vaguely. “I don’t know how to—how to answer that,” he said truthfully.

Confusion muddled Carol’s expression and she glanced in the direction of you over at Daryl’s camp. “Well, what happened?” she asked again.

Daryl looked at her seriously and shrugged vaguely. “Y/N killed ‘em. Didn’t have no choice.” He continued his path up to the house and bounded up the porch steps, knocking on the front door. Carol stared after him, a bit shocked. Maggie answered, looking worried.

“Were those gun shots earlier?” she asked.

Daryl nodded. “Mhm… Hey, can your dad take a look at Y/N?”

“Of course. What happened?” she asked, holding the screen door open so he could step inside.

Hershel was there in an instant. “Daryl. What happened? We heard those shots.”

“Y/N and I were out lookin’ for Sophia. There were some men. She—she ran into some trouble.”

Hershel took a deep breath and nodded. “Is she alright?”

“I think she needs stitches in her hand. She took a good hit to her jaw too. Might have a concussion. I dunno,” he said. He anxiously chewed on his bottom lip again. “I know she’s got some cuts on her arms, defensive wounds, but she wouldn’t let me look at ‘em. Got a cut on her neck.”

“Oh my God,” Maggie said, her hand flying up to her mouth.

“What happened to the men?” Hershel asked.

Daryl quit chewing the side of his thumbnail. “Dead,” he said, watching the old farmer’s reaction closely, but the man’s face was blank. He simply nodded.

“I’ll get my kit. Have her come on in.”

Daryl headed back onto the porch to see how you were doing and you were on your way over. His eyes caught on the dark splatters and stains of blood on your jeans and the slit at the bottom. His stomach twisted. Maybe he should have had you change clothes completely… You were trying to ignore the eyes on you as you made your way over to the house.

Andrea and Lori exchanged a look at the state of your clothes.

“Come on in here and sit down,” Hershel said kindly. “Let’s take a look at that hand.” You offered up your gauze-wrapped hand and Hershel laid it out on the table, unwrapping the already blood-soaked bandage and taking a look at the deep gash. “Pretty deep cut here. Definitely need stitches.” He grabbed a needle from his kit and pricked the end of each of your fingers. They all twitched in response. “You can feel that?” You nodded. “Good. Looks like we dodged any nerve damage. Much deeper and you would have needed major surgery for a cut tendon and who knows what else. Maggie, dear, would you get the sutures set up while I clean this off?”

Nerve damage. Cut tendon. Daryl shifted uncomfortably in his spot leaned up against the wall. You hardly seemed to react to the news at all.

Hershel swabbed at your hand and you shut your eyes against the bite of the alcohol. “Now, Daryl tells me you took a good hit to the jaw. I’m just gonna check it and make sure nothing is broken.” He palpated both sides of your face, across your cheekbones and up your jawline. “Just a bit swollen,” he said. “Did you lose sight when you were hit?” he asked you, grabbing a small pen light and checking the dilation response of each of your pupils. You gulped and nodded. “Do you remember your name?” he asked you. You nodded again. “I need you to answer my questions verbally. I’m interested in your answers but also your speech.”

“My name’s Y/N.”

“When is your birthday?” Hershel asked.

You stared at him. “No one here knows my birthday. How will you know if I’m right or not?”

A small smile grew on Hershel’s face. “I’d say your speech and cognition are fine. Probably a mild concussion though with your eyesight blacking out. You’ll need to take it easy the next few days, rest and fluids, and let me know if you develop any new symptoms like vomiting or nausea, confusion, a worsening headache. Understand?”

You nodded again. “Yes. I understand.”

“Sutures are ready,” Maggie said.

Hershel put on a pair of clean gloves and prepared. “I’m afraid I don’t have anything to numb you,” he said, propping your hand up on a towel so he could see it better.

“It’s alright. I would have told you to save it anyway,” you said. Daryl straightened up from his place against the wall and came to stand next to you. You could feel his eyes on your face.

“You’re one tough cookie,” Hershel said. “Let’s get this taken care of.” You hardly flinched as he passed the needle through…

Outside, Rick and the others were just arriving back at camp. Everyone gathered around and seemed to read on their faces that they were all unsettled.

“Rick,” Lori said, grabbing him into a hug. “What happened? We saw Daryl and Y/N come back. Her jeans were covered in blood.”

Rick looked down at her. “Nothing to worry about. It’s been taken care of.”

“Well, what was it?” Lori pressed him, her eyes still a bit wide and fearful.

Carol spoke up. “Daryl said she ran into some men and they’re—she killed them.”

Glenn and T were avoiding everyone’s eyes while Shane let out a frustrated sigh and paced away from the group, disagreeing with Rick still about the decision not to tell everyone you had clearly gone slasher on those assholes. Provoked or justified or not, Shane felt like that was something everyone should know. He’d gone far enough to describe you as a serial killer before Rick had stood him down. Rick nodded and looked at his wife and then at Andrea and Dale. “Y/N was attacked and she dealt with it. Hershel is gonna patch her up and there’s nothing to worry about.

“What if there are more of those men?” Carol asked fearfully.

“We only ever saw three different boot prints out there,” T reassured her. “But we’ll keep watch like we always do. We’ll be fine.”

Everyone still looked uneasy, but settled back into their tasks. Lori was about to go fetch some more water when Shane grabbed her arm and tugged her around the side of the SUV. She gave him a stern look and pulled her arm from his grasp.

“What?” she snapped at him, a bit unkindly.

“Rick ain’t tellin’ you everythin’,” he said.

Lori just stared Shane with a guarded expression. “I trust my husband. And you used to, too.”

“Yeah, well… What happened out there today? It should concern everyone.” His expression was dark and Lori felt her sense of unease grow.

Shane rubbed a hand over the stubble on his face. “Y/N just—” Shane let out a sigh that had the edge of a growl to it.

“What are you talking about?” Lori pressed him in an undertone. “Are we in danger?”

Shane straightened up and pressed his lips into a thin line briefly before meeting her eyes. “Honestly? I don’t know. But I’m not taking my eyes off that girl.”

Inside, Hershel tied off the final stitch and snipped the suture. “All done.” He applied a layer of antibacterial ointment and wrapped your hand in a fresh dressing. “Try to keep it dry. And I mean it,” he gave you a pointed look, “take it easy for a few days. Daryl, you hold her to that. Anything else you need me to look at? Your arms? Daryl said—” You shook your head no. “Alright.”

The archer straightened up as you climbed to your feet. “Thank you,” you murmured to Hershel.

Daryl held the door for you and you cringed at how everyone’s eyes were on you immediately as you stepped out onto the porch. You avoided them and started heading in the direction of your camp. Daryl was still in step beside you and you hazarded a glance in his direction.

He could read a question in your eyes. “I’ll keep ya company for a bit if that’s alright... Besides, ya should be restin’ and somebody needs to make sure ya take care of yourself.” You didn’t say anything, but that also wasn’t a refusal. Daryl could tell you were still reeling a bit, and he wanted to be there just in case.

You arrived at your separate camp area and watched as Daryl immediately went and stirred up the coals in the fire, adding more wood and soon having a nice blaze going. You headed for your tent and glanced back over your shoulder at him. “Just gonna change,” you said softly. He nodded and went about heating something for you to eat along with water for tea. He was sure you had collected more ingredients and remembered that your bag was still sitting at his camp. He jogged to grab it and brought it back along with your bloodied and torn shirt, not sure what else to do with it. When he got back, you were sitting by the fire in clean and comfortable clothes, his shirt resting over your lap. You held it out to him as he dropped your pack beside you.

“Thanks,” he murmured. The fabric was still warm from your body. “Dunno what ya wanna do with this,” he said, holding yours out in turn.

You stared at it for a long moment before your fingers closed on it and Daryl watched as you immediately tossed it into the fire. In a moment, it was only ashes and embers. He sank down beside you and felt you studying him. He turned and met your eyes and was surprised when you spoke. “You aren’t afraid of me now? Like the others?” you asked softly.

“Nah. Why would I be?”

Your striking eyes focused back on the crackling campfire and the embers dancing upward on the warm torrent of air. “You saw what I did. Why wouldn’t you be?”

Daryl peered at you curiously for a long moment. “Ya were only protectin’ yourself. Can’t say I wouldn’t have done worse if I’d been there,” he drawled, and you could hear anger in the tension in his voice.

“I blacked out,” you said suddenly.

“When they hit ya? Ya, yer gonna have a good bruise tomorrow.”

“That’s not what I mean.” You cradled your injured hand absently in the other. “The last thing I remember was the one starting to cut my jeans and then—then I was just covered in blood and they were all dead. And next thing I know you were taking my knife from me.” You shut your eyes for a moment. “I don’t remember anything else.”

Daryl considered the regretful expression on your face. “Don’t matter. Yer safe. That’s what counts. Those men? They had it comin’.”

You looked up at him in surprise and he simply nodded and then grabbed a mug and filled it with hot water for you. You accepted it and dug into your bag, pulling out the small sack of foraged herbs from the day. You dropped a few berries and leaves into your mug and cradled it with your uninjured hand.

It was nearly sunset and the quality of the light was cooling, oranges turning to reds and then fading into deep purples and inky blues. You allowed yourself to frequently study the archer as he shoved a bowl of reheated stew into your hands or added more wood to the fire. You felt surprisingly at ease with him there and he didn’t seem at all bothered by the passing of so much silence. Maybe the concussion just had you slightly numb, but you didn’t think so.

“You aren’t going to ask me?” you finally said.

Daryl looked over at you and he felt a stirring in his chest at the way the firelight was catching the shine and colors in your hair and the soft shape of your lips. “Ask ya what?”

“How I—Why I—” You didn’t even know how to phrase it really.

Daryl watched you struggled for a moment. “Ain’t none of my business. But if ya wanted to talk about it, I’ll listen. Not gonna lie and say I haven’t wondered about what came before ya were with the group.”

You had been on the verge of speaking it but suddenly lost your nerve and sipped at your tea again. Daryl watched you withdrawing again and rubbed a hand a bit nervously over the back of his neck. Darkness had fallen completely now. “Well, I’ll leave ya alone. Yer probably sick of me anyway,” he drawled. “Get some rest, alright?” Daryl had climbed to his feet and started to head in the direction of his own tent but your voice froze him.

“It’s not that I want to be alone all the time…” Daryl could hear the crackling of the fire in the silence that followed. “It’s just that alone usually feels safer.”

He glanced back at you, turning partially. “Ya. I know the feelin’,” he said gently, pacing back.

You looked up at him and something about your expression, your wide eyes, went straight to his core. “Stay,” you said quietly. “Please.” You chewed on your bottom lip for a moment. “Being with you feels safer…” you admitted, timidly.

Daryl felt an ache in his chest and nodded. He grabbed a seat beside you again and puzzled over this unprecedented turn of events.

You seemed to come to some decision suddenly and looked over at him intensely. He caught your eyes briefly and then watched as you pushed up your right sleeve. At first all he saw were the knife cuts, crimson against your skin, but you turned your forearm toward him in the firelight. “This is what I didn’t want you to see,” you said. You gulped. You’d never told anyone, never shown anyone, literally never talked about what had happened to you since you got out. You’d vowed that you would just move on, but the longer you suffered in silence the worse it seemed to get, until you felt like it would consume you. And then today, with those men, you’d just completely lost it. It had triggered something, a memory or maybe more like a nightmare, and when you came to you were bathed in blood and didn’t even recognize yourself, couldn’t believe what you’d done. Enough was enough. Maybe if you spoke it, admitted it, dealt with it in some way… maybe it’d get easier.

Daryl stared at a scar on your forearm. It looked like a brand and the skin was still slightly pink, showing that it wasn’t that old. It was four numbers. 1048.

#daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon twd #the walking dead #twd fanfics #daryl dixon drabbles #daryl imagines #daryl dixon x reader #fanfics #writers of tumblr #twd drabbles

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dailytatsu · 3 years

Note

Heya! Can I request an Aether/Lumine & reader?

So reader is basically an immortal half-elf who've lived for centuries and a well refined fighter. Well at the beginning even tho they volunteered to tag along on traveler's journey to find their sibling, reader is rather obnoxious and a lazy-dork who only help when actually needed. But as the journey continues, they began to act like traveler's bodyguard after witnessing (archon quest spoiler!) traveler almost getting killed by the Shogun? And maybe random shenanigans happen between them (ft.Paimon). I don't mind if you do either Aether or Lumine if you feel pressured 🙏

Hi! This kind are my favorites! Tysm for requesting! (๑>◡<๑)

I did this with Aether since he is my favorite is who I chose, and I feel more comfortable writing with guys than with girls.

I know they have some different personalities but I can help but see Lumine as the all mighty abyss princess.

Hope you enjoy!

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Aether & Half-elf! Reader

GN! Reader

Inazuma Archon Quest Spoilers!

Request are open; sorry for any mistakes!

Genshin Impact Masterlist

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Aether always thought that immortality brought with it wisdom, beings who live for much longer than an ordinary human tend to gain an understanding of life and changes in the world after years of appreciating the passing of the ages.

But when he met you he couldn't help but feel that all his beliefs were based on fiction and old rumors from other worlds. You were anything but wise, not even his first choice to be the voice of reason.

Even Paimon takes her role as his guide seriously.

But what was so wrong about you that get him on his nerves all the time? And most important, why does is he still dealing with you?

To be fair, maybe he was waiting a little too much from you. After all, he always forget that you still have half of a human’s nature.

“Mmh? What are you doing?” You asked Aether the first time he removed your hair from your ears to see if they were pointy. They were, and Paimon yelled kind of a objection when she realize she had to pay for losing their bet.

Not a human, not a elf, but a hybrid between them.

The first encounter was really something he would never forget. Rumors about treasures and requests from the guild made them follow some clues to find a cave that was marked as lost, impossible to enter and explore.

But “impossible” is a word that doesn’t exist their vocabulary. Yet is common that regretting comes along when you’re that bold and risky.

At the very end of that strange cave there wasn’t a treasure waiting, not even a new clue to keep going with the mystery. Instead, was a humanoid silhouette, they seemed to be meditating, not showing a single interest in their voices neither getting nervous because of Aether and Paimon taking some steps forward to have a better look.

But they were breathing, and both could see the pupils moving slightly under their eyelids. Eyebrows twitching now and then, like they were having a nightmare, one of which they couldn’t wake up.

Paimon encouraged him to get even closer to shake that person's shoulder, while she was hiding behind some rocks, obviously.

Aether summoned his sword and then he approached slowly until touching them with his fingertips, waiting for some kind of jumpscare.

The stranger raised their arm, carefully but also in a robotic way. Their fingers were tense, as much that it was painful just looking at them. Like a quiet call, like a order that couldn’t be heard, from the pile of rocks where Paimon was hiding something emerge, breaking through the stone and letting a rusty polearm to be seen.

Their fingers closed around the weapon, bringing them back to reality.

“Master and weapon, reunited again, rise so the world can meet their end!”

Or at least that's what he would have preferred to find. A servant guarding a lost relic, a soulless body moving by a curse, perhaps even a fate that death could not prevent.

But instead it was something really underwhelming, something that broke the mystical and strange atmosphere. That person opened their eyes, annoyed by the light of the torches and disoriented by the situation.

With their body in pain and numb at the same time, how long have they slept in that position?

The first thing they did after waking up was sneezing.

‘So much dust…’

Never accepting missions for exploring legendary caves ever again. Nope. Negative. He refuse to.

What if they find another (Y/N)? Thanks, but no. One is more than enough.

“So what you mean is that your parents' families exiled you and locked you up in the cave for being an ‘abomination’ to both species?” Paimon confirmed once the three of you were back in the surface again. Her hands moving side to side to explain -in a very expressive way- everything you told them.

“It seems that we found the remains of an ancient race that used to exist in Teyvat.” Aether said, still surprised by the way you roamed to feel the wood of the trees and the grass under your bare feet. Kind of heartbreaking.

“Like the boar we found with Xiangling!”

He wasn’t sure if it was okay to compare both encounters but he could see her point.

“… ‘Wait for us’, they told me, ‘think about your existence and find the answer to why your conception is not the atrocity that everyone says you are. May their words not reach you, because we have long ears to hear the words of the gods and not the ones of those who defile earth’… ” You pronounced after decades of not needing to use the language you were taught, with one hand on your chin and eyes closed to concentrate. All you had left was the few memories you preserved inside your mind and heart.

“With ‘they’ you mean your parents?”

You nodded.

“And what happened next?… ” Asked back the tiny companion of the blond guy that rescued you.

“I got bored and I fell asleep.” You admitted, carefree about it, shrugging your shoulders and sighing.

A total waste of your youth.

“Eh!? Then you didn’t thought about those things? That sounded important!” Paimon seemed disappointed for your answer, while Aether held his forehead, without having a clue of how he was supposed to react.

That was the day you joined their party! New team member, (Y/N) strikes in!

Or something like that,,

“H-Hey! We could use a hand over here!… woah!” The little white girl scold you but from your high sit on the top of a big rock only a exaggerated yawning can be heard. Paimon crossed her arms to almost immediately duck down to dodge a fire bullet from the Fatui. Aether didn’t say anything, he was concentrated fighting.

“Oh, yeah… You’re doing great. Go, Aether, go…”

“Was that supposed to be a cheering?!”

“Hey, calm down” You said “He doesn’t need my help. Just take a look, he’s an adventurer. If I meddle it will be really boring for him.”

“Hmp! Now Paimon believes that you were lying when you said that you were a well refined fighter!” She was floating around you, ignoring the battle of his blond friend. Like a pesky bee, the only thing you did was avoiding her furious gaze. “Don’t ignore Paimon! How can you not hear with those ears!? That’s it! Paimon will give you a ugly nickname!”

“What about ‘extinct deaf elf-der’?”

“Yeah, that’s a good one!” She agreed immediately, then she shook her head, pointing at you like a guilty criminal. “Wait, Paimon doesn’t need your suggestions!”

When the last Fatui was defeated Aether turned back to face both of you, sighing because of the new arguing between you two. His sword disappeared and some steps were took to get closer.

Your eyes met each other, a slight smile in your face after looking him safe and sound. So confident but so unaware of the remain danger hiding. Your expression became a surprised one, then your gaze sharped like a killer sight.

You left Paimon on top of the rock when you jumped down, summoning your own weapon you ran straight to where Aether was. The traveler panicked just a fraction of second before loosing sight of you.

Next thing they know was that a you were behind him, facing at the nothing with a defensive pose, just a second of silence before a impact could be heard. Some dirt and dust was lift as the pair of Fatui Pyro Agents became visible again. They stayed there, defeated in one hit.

“Like I said. It would be pretty boring if I meddle...” Aether and Paimon were shocked, none of them felt their presence, not even the heat of the pyro delusion. Your weapon disappeared in the air, and your hands rested on your waist. “Dear Seven, that was intense.” Looking at your friends you sighed, with the laziness on your body language. “It was my turn to cook dinner, right? What a pain having to eat again… ”

Acting that relaxed after that really made them went Ô_Ô and Ö

A silent speech, where devotion and gratitude are the best topics of conversation. The message that is heard even if there’s no words in between. Just a exchange of gazes. Little signs of affection that are shown when it’s necessary.

Your family was gone. No clues about their whereabouts could’ve found in that cave of where you came. Not even the skeletons of a couple holding their hands and petrified in a sobbing position. Not even ashes.

When you have been thinking about the most unimportant things in the universe for so long you can deal with the lost faster than anyone else. Getting the idea of no remain evidence of your parents and feeling that it wasn’t that heartbreaking.

Maybe because you gained a new family almost immediately.

Still you could empathize with Aether, he still had his precious memories with his sister, still remember her face and her voice. And most important was that he knew that she was still roaming Teyvat, waiting for him.

Even if they leave behind Paimon and you at the end of the trip.

Or even if they just leave you behind.

‘I’m okay with that.’

You thought, stroking Paimon’s hair when her head found a comfortable place to rest in your lap. You thought, moving your shoulder so Aether wouldn’t have neck pain. Both sleeping peacefully and you staying awake night by night.

You’ve slept enough, for so long besides.

Somehow the flames of the campfire are warmer now that you have someone to look how the fire dance in the night.

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“I see, so you were serious when you told me that your companion was a mystical extinct creature, weren’t you?” Albedo’s hand went up to hold his chin, analyzing you from distance.

“They are half of it, actually.” Aether answered back, notice how Sucrose was asking you permission to check your features. The sparkle in her eyes made you accept her petition after feeling with the back against the wall.

“Your ears are like mine! Look, look!” Klee pulled your shirt, then she pointed at the side of her head.

“… Still the shape of both are quite different, the length too.”

Years of isolation really are hitting hard right now. You felt overwhelmed and somehow shy when Sucrose hold your face to have a better look.

You follow the traveler to everywhere, no matter the place, you were there. Like a shadow, sometimes just a spectator, other times like an actual active team member.

“Who would’ve tell that our Honorary Knight also has his own knight watching his back.” Kaeya’s voice has that joke but charming tone, as always.

Day after day, it’s the same, everyone talking you through Aether. Like some kind of translator.

“More like a human shield.” Your hand landed on top of Aether’s head, not agreeing with his explanation.

Bonk.

“I guess everything’s better than being Emergency Food.”

“Hey!”

“Haha! You three are quite a team, aren’t you?”

Of course you were. Mondstadt, Liyue, you name it. You could assure that every place in this two nations have at least one story about the team.

You knew that the most brave and magnificent outlander in Teyvat didn’t need a guardian, he can defend himself (somehow even if he’s still using that dull blade).

Bodyguarding also sounds like such a hassle…

You only provide a last resource help when was needed, sometimes also helping with some puzzles and mysteries.

The long eared people was known to be wise and smart people that searched for the full comprehension of the world. Also such a nerds and fans of knowledge. So, even if you considered yourself dumb, in your blood was the instinct of looking for the truth, and sometimes that impulse could be really annoying.

You were always near enough to reach him. Pulling his scarf from behind to move him away from danger. Countering after he gets hit.

Always in a place where you could reach him.

You just needed to extend your arm and you would catch Aether. It was always like this. Always with you jumping in the middle of the crossfire to shield them if it was necessary.

It’s always like this.

Until the day you three set a foot in Inazuma’s land. And a bad feeling of a imminent catastrophe made your shiver.

A new nation, a new problem to solve. But a war? Boldness and stupidity sometimes looks like the same thing, but no matter how many times you repeat this to Aether, he would still ran into problems.

And you would follow him, until your debt is paid, until his travel is done.

It used to be like this.

But then you failed him after being unable to move because of the fear that paralyzed your body. The day Aether faced Shogun Raiden in the ceremony. The day you heard the broken voice of a god inside the Shogun you also fell apart. It was painful, cruel, a void of anger and sadness.

Jumping into danger, without you behind.

You tried to ran between the goddess and your savior, you tried to get closer to at least be useful one last time as the shield you promised to be.

You tried.

But, for the first time, your hand didn’t reach him.

The void of despair and darkness that could be heard inside the Shogun devoured him.

The tears of panic and fear in Paimon’s eyes. The way the Shogun lifted her sword to end his life. The way you were paralyzed because of her presence, forced to be part of the crowd and presence his execution.

That day your facade of laziness faded away, the real feeling of being a knight burnt along your proud. It was so annoying, it was so unnecessary, but still you couldn’t ignore it.

“Are you… are you sure that you’re okay? We don’t have to find the Sangonomiya resistance today. If you need to rest then-” Your hands were shaking when you placed them in Aether’s shoulders, holding yourself for tearing up.

“We have to keep going. I’ll be fine.”

“Besides, if we stay near Inazuma this night they could find us! Paimon won’t be able to sleep like that!” Your mouth opened to counter their arguments, but not a single word dared to go against Aether’s plans.

They could see it in your face. The worry, the remains of shock and fear, the guilty.

“Don’t try to look strong then. If you get tired, tell us. I can carry you in my back.” Even if you were offering help your voice was serious, so cold but so hurt at the same time that nor Aether or Paimon knew what to said to bring the old you back.

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“… Aren’t you coming?” You could hear how the door was slid to let him saw you. The lighted spots on Aether’s clothes were purple, just as the lighting that almost end him. Your lips made a concerned and stressed grimace.

The young traveler took a seat next to you, outside the structure, sitting on the wooden steps and looking at the starry sky. The wind was cold but still the soldiers of the resistance were talking normally and the slight feeling of discommodity because of the excessive presence of other people was climbing up your back.

“(Y/N), there’s no need of guard us every night. You also need to sleep.”

“I'm not tired, I think I've gotten enough sleep, at least not to need it until the next century.”

Aether’s expressions went into a sarcastic one, asking if you were serious with just his gaze.

“That’s not how it works.” He said, trying to change the mood. “And if it does, then why are you always snoozing during the day in every chance you get?”

You had the answer to that, but you weren’t sure about telling him.

“Because everything supposed to be boring. Nothing really changed a lot and… looking at the familiar places was depressing.” So easy, so simple, but still enjoying the company, still enjoying the sound of theirs laughs and their own shenanigans. “… Lately, I’ve been thinking that I should not had left the cave. Don’t get me wrong, I do appreciate that you two helped me to be back at the surface, and I really want to help you on your journey, but if you still run into the chaos by own decision I think I could not follow you any longer before being a burden in your adventures.”

Overprotection, an unbreakable shield, frequently avoiding fights, always being pulled back to not be part of the battle. Enemies of the braveness of the traveler.

Worry, panic, an overreaction due to fear of loosing everything again.

‘let me do it’, ‘I got it’, ‘wait here’, ‘don’t get close’.

These day could be described like that.

“So, before I do something worse as an excuse of defend you, please let me find a cave to await. You do what’s is needed and… call me back, or leave me there, anything you think it’s better… ”

You could be pronouncing the words from the very bottom of your heart, but still your face was the same seriousness as the accident almost happened.

And even with that you felt his gloved hand removing the hair that was covering your right ear, revealing how it slightly leaned down, showing sadness unwittingly.

“Hey, cut it out… I’m serious about this… ”

“It doesn’t matter if you think that it’s the best option, you’re still sad about leaving.”

“… That’s cheating.” Removing his hand away from your hair you tried to act indifferent.

“You know the reason why we invited you to came along?”

‘You felt sorry for me.’

“I can’t totally tell the exact reason, but it wasn’t for you to pay us some kind of debt because of saving you.” He crossed his arms, looking at the stars, wondering if his sisters was doing the same. “We don’t need a guardian, we need our friend back. And I know you care about Paimon and me, but still you must enjoy the journey. It’s not fair that you are always aware of every potential danger while we mess around lately.”

An eternal silence, your response is late to appear but somehow Aether can tell that you already have something on your mind.

“Then apologize.”

“… Why?”

“For believing that playing as the hero and jumping to face the Shogun was something you had to do.”

“… but-”

Neither Aether nor you slept that night, the blonde had to listen for hours to all the things that you ever wanted to complain about since you arrived in Inazuma.

You made your position on joining the army of the rebellion very clear, you had no intention of fighting to seek "justice" or "peace". Because after all, that fight did not correspond to you, but if he asked you to, you would protect some soldiers or help to guard the barracks, if he asked you to, you wouldn’t complain about it (at least not that much).

Both had enough of each other’s attitude, but it was okay. Because that was what all of you chose in first place.

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funtimebunnyblog · 3 years

Note

So! What about the god ok switch-a-roo? The pillarmen are now human and their s/os are pillarmen!

I interpreted this request as body swapping (similar to what we see in a much later part of JoJo) and I hope this is what you meant, my dear Anon! 🙏❤🥰

If not and you meant for me to write this in another way, I am SO sorry I misinterpreted the request and I sincerely hope you still enjoy this nonetheless! 😅😇

Body swapping with the Pillarmen! 😱 🔁

(Under the cut for length!)

Kars:

• Ending up in your body will piss Kars off more than anything really.

• Don't get him wrong, he loves you with all his heart; it's just that he's a man who is rather comfortable in his superiority and status over your race.

• He had worked VERY hard to get himself where he wanted to be afterall...

• Suddenly being reduced to a mere Human is enough to make his (er... your) stomach turn.

• Kars' new "limitations" in your body however didn't stop him from working out how this happened and, more importantly, how to UNDO it ASAP.

• When you happen to come to in Kars' body, the feeling is unsettling and strange to say the least.

• Piloting not only a Pillarmans body but Ultimate lifeform's as well will take you some getting used to for sure.

• For one thing, you'll come to find his hair gets in the way of EVERYTHING.

• If the wind blows or if you happen to turn sharply it's suddenly in your (well... his, but you get the idea) mouth or sticking in your eyes or just plain in your face!

• You can't understand how he stands it at all!

• There's no time for you to ask him to teach you how to wrap it up like he does either to remedy the issue so you have to grin and bear it.

• On the other hand, even the slightest jump in your emotions makes his arm blades spring forth!

• You almost ended up accidentally stabbing Kars (while he was in your body) as a result of getting worked up over the whole matter.

• Kars could only watch you floundering about in his body, frowning and shaking your human head as he told you repeatedly to keep calm and they'll stay put.

• As if you could keep level-headed at all in this situation as it was.

• On the upside ot things however... you learn some interesting things about Kars.

• "...Wait." you paused, peering down at the muscular legs beneath you; your eyes bore into Kars' boots with a critical gaze. There was something cushy sitting just below the heel on the inside.

• "Do you... have cloth wedged into your boots?" A sangria eyebrow raised, ruby eyes falling onto Kars.

• You watched as the features of your own face shifted dramatically, mouth falling open, scandalized. "I--" he began, but your voice fell short as he couldn't find anything to say in defense.

• "Do you do this to make yourself look taller?" A wheeze rose up in the Pillarman's chest, rich barking laughter ringing out as you doubled over in laughter.

• You suddenly came to the realization that you had never once seen Kars without his boots off, the pumps at the very bottom of the boots gave him a little boost as it was but on the inside it quite literally felt like you were wearing a pair of high heels.

• You were starting to wonder just how tall Kars really was. Hell, you were starting to wonder if he even passed Santana in height without these boots on!

• Your laughter fell short as a familiar, much smaller, hand reached up and grabbed your new body by the scarf. You were hauled down to meet the burning and intense gaze of your own eyes, Kars snarling right up into his own face.

• Jeeze, had your face always looked that red when you got angry before?

• "If you speak of this to ANYONE, I will spill each and every one of your own secrets to the others," he growled lowly, giving your voice an uncharacteristically harsh and grating tone. "Am I clear?"

• It took all you had inside not to call him "shortie" once things were finally back to the way they were and you both settled back into your own bodies.

• Despite your curiosity, your question on his exact height would never get answered.

• Kars knew how to put those arm blades to use better than you of course...

Esidisi:

• Oh boy... you have to be VERY careful piloting this one.

• And I mean the absolute definition of careful!

• When your consciousness ends up transfered into Esidisi's body, its no surprise that you feel very warm and fuzzy on the inside.

• It's almost a feeling akin to when you sit just a little too long in a bath that's a little too hot.

• Strangely, it was actually kind of a comforting feeling amongst this whole ordeal.

• However, if you're not careful with your emotions (warm and fuzzy feeling or not) than you might just accidentally end up burning a hole right through the Earth!

• Or worse... end up spraying scalding hot blood and flaying fleshy veins dripping with the stuff in all directions.

• Your core temperature has to constantly be monitored or you'll pay the price.

• It seems like even if you unfocus for one singular second, the Pillarman's entire body starts to smolder like a cake burning in an oven!

• Esidisi, on the other hand, is actually quite enjoying being in your body.

• He's having a much better time than you are for sure. In fact, he's laughing like this is nothing more than a game to him!

• You'll have to keep your eyes on him because he can't keep his (or rather, your) hands off your body.

• "Esidisi!" You barked, the Pillarman's voice was like the clap of thunder as it raised in octave; clearing the air with its power and inevitably startling you (again) even though you were the one wielding it. "Get your hands out of there, right now!"

• Your command was met with laughter, you watched as a wide grin stretched across your own face as Esidisi pried your hands off of your behind (for the 3rd time) and tucked them neatly into your pockets as he continued to giggle to himself.

• "I wasn't doing anything~" he purred, making your voice sound uncannily like a bad child playing innocent, acting wasn't just caught squeezing your cake.

• He was being to curious for his own good.

• That and the fact that he's taking enjoyment out of little ordinary Human things while piloting your body

• Things like feeling actual pain when skin is pinched or when hair is pulled seemed like it could entertain him for hours on end.

• If you don't keep a close eye on him and his shenanigans, you might just end up getting your body back all banged and bruised up if he goes too far with his fun.

• Fair enough, as he might just get his back half-burned into the ground or covered in blood...

Wamuu:

• Wamuu straight up does NOT have a good time dealing with suddenly being Human.

• The fact that it's your body he's in doesn't help that any either.

• 12/10 would NOT do again. 0 STARS!

• Wamuu, always a composed and calculating Warrior and tactician, was now in full panic mode.

• All his life he carried himself with pride, building his little ego off all his strengths and victories because of his status and his incredible unmatchable power.

• Now, with all of that ripped away from him, the Warrior felt too vulnerable and naked for his liking in this Human form.

• "Ow! OW!!!" Wamuu cried, eyes wide as your hands flew to your back. "Why does it hurt there? Do you always have pain like this?" Came the question, it was more than strange (and a little unsettling) to hear your own voice asking you that so desperately.

• "You get used to it." You replied, the deepness of the Pillarman's voice sending deep vibrations through the hardened chest as you spoke.

• "Why-- Why does this body feel so sluggish? I feel so inexplicably weary..." "I know. You get used to that too." "WHY IS EVERYTHING SORE?! WHY IS EVERYTHING CREAKING?!" "It's fine. That's normal."

• On the other hand, your mind suddenly being swapped into Wamuu's body isn't quite as bad as being in the others but... there are still some things to get used to.

• For one thing, it was hard to get used to simply walking around in it.

• Wamuu was so immensely big, muscular and heavy that you felt as if you were shaking the Earth with each step, causing you to lumber and stumble around with no grace to speak of.

• For another, a wirlwind just seemed to follow you wherever you went. It was honestly harder to control than it looked!

• When you wanted it to move one way, it went another. Wind blew up, wind blew down.

• You found yourself standing around, massive hands flying to the loincloth in an attempt to keep it from flinging up and showing too much.

• You wanted to spare least a shred of Wamuu's lost dignity while he wasn't piloting his own body after all.

• His horn is an entirely different matter.

• At one point the breeze blew too strong and the Pillarmen's signature headpiece suddenly flew right off his head and then... out sprang the horn.

• It shot 18 feet into the air, skewering two trees and drilling right through them like an overcharged power drill; a terrifying whir filling the air as chunks of wood flayed in every direction.

• The entire time you screamed in terror (you had no idea Wamuu's voice could go so high until that moment), slicing through an entire plot of trees as Wamuu yelled for you to put it away before it went for something breathing... like your own body that he was currently inhabiting.

• In the end, the relief you both feel to be back in your own bodies once the entire mess is fixed is immeasurable.

• You also both agree to never speak of the experience again for as long as you live.

Santana:

• Much like Kars, Santana is more unimpressed about the whole thing rather than upset or worried.

• Apart from you of course, Santana just barely tolerated Humans (or Primitives as he liked to call them) as it was.

• He often spoke about how fragile and flawed your kind was, honestly the defenselessness of a Human was laughable in his eyes.

• Therefore, he absolutely does NOT like suddenly being reduced to one, even if it is your body.

• The entire time he's practically pouting, the very definition of apathetic, grumbling to himself and following close behind as you tried to chase down the person responsible for the swap.

• "This form is... limiting." Came the low growl, each word sounding so very unlike you despite the fact it was your voice he was using. Santana practically spat as he kept talking, "Flawed. Primal. Defenseless."

• You were handling things admittedly better than Santana but it was still more than overwhelming.

• For one thing, you'll come to find that Santana's senses are extremely heightened.

• You never realized how very unbelieveably strong a sense of smell, taste and hearing could be until now.

• You could smell animals that had passed through the area nearly a fortnight ago just by putting your nose to the air. You could hear the thumping of your own heart from where it sat back in your own chest as Santana followed close at your heels.

• For another thing... Santana's body felt... odd.

• It was a strange and indescribable feeling; it was best put as you felt like a substance that constantly balanced between solid and liquid.

• How on Earth could he stand being a living mass of puddy and sharp deadly bones all the time?!

• As Santana kept grumbling about how very imperfect his new form was, your only hope was to give him that huge bag of gummy bears you had been saving in your bag for later to snack on.

• It would give you a moment of silence to think straight. However, if Santana was himself that would've been a good idea but in this case... not so much.

• "What's wrong?" You questioned, the Pillarman's gravely voice holding a different tone than you were used to as you used it, studying him.

• Santana had suddenly stopped following and was now slumped over, clutching at your stomach. A low whine surfaced, almost a sob, as he spoke through clenched teeth.

• "Do.... not.... feel..... good." Came the whimper. You came rushing to his side, your temorary body dwarfing your real one as you pulled Santana close to see if he had somehow gotten hurt.

• "What--" the question fell short as you spied the now very empty bag of gummy bears laying nearby.

• That bag had been huge, filled to the brim with bright and colourful gushy candy... and Santana had eaten ALL of them.

• It was that day that Santana found out that a Humans biggest flaw was that too much sugar made them sick.

• Good luck with enjoying getting your body back when the time comes as you now suspected you would spend your time kneeled over a bucket with a hot water bottle instead of celebrating...

#funnybunny #pillarmen #pillarmen headcanons #kars #esidisi #wamuu #santana #kars x reader #esidisi x reader #wamuu x reader #santana x reader #anon ask #my writing

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softcallofdutyimagines · 3 years

Text

The crew with their soulmate headcannons

Ok, to make it up to y'all for the angst yesterday, here's a response to the death by broken heart post 😌

This one goes out to @smokeywhalee since I've had her crying for the past like three posts 💀💀😂 I also snuck in a little something to the Weaver one for @direwolfspostsrandomshit and I specifically 😌💅🏻

No warnings, just a very long post and lots of fluff lol

Adler

You two met when he was still young, before he even joined the CIA

Back when he was a goofy, carefree kid who didn't know better

You've been with him through so much by now, that he knows he can always count on you when something's bothering him

There's no one he trusts more in the whole world

Adler knew you were the one around the time he got his scars

He thought for sure you'd leave him, thinking he looked like some kind of monster with half his face bandaged and bloodied like it is

But when he came home from the hospital, you were so overjoyed to see him again, it's like the bandages weren't even there

You kissed his face and helped him clean and dress the stitches and cuts everyday until they healed

With you there to give him all that affection, he's never let his scars make him feel any less then handsome

Of course, it doesn't hurt that you remind him often

Even now, he never tires of you kissing his scars

Hudson

You and Hudson met in college, back when he was a shy, nerdy outcast

It's not like you were exactly popular, but you at least had some social circles to run in

He never thought someone like you would even look twice at someone like him, but...

He's been wrong before

One day you decided to give him a chance, maybe just see what his story is, and you've never looked back since

Hudson's life path calls for the utmost secrecy for nearly everything, and you've lost contact with a handful of people because of it

But you've never complained

If anything, you consider it their loss for losing you

That's how Hudson knew you were the one

You have an undefeatable, never give up attitude and can find the silver lining in just about everything you put your mind to

And of course... You indulge him in his love of head rubs

It's you and his best kept secret of all

Lazar

You've known each other since you were just kids

For him, it was puppy love at first sight, and he was crushing hard before he knew it

But... He was always insecure about his weight, being a bit chunky as a kid and all

He was afraid of rejection because of it

A shame really, since you would've loved him no matter what

But as fate would have it, you stayed friends all the way up until highschool where sports had him shedding weight like crazy

All the fluctuation has left him with stretch marks, some loose skin, and a belly pouch, but luckily growing up gave him enough confidence to make up for it

He asked you to the senior dance your last year of highschool, and later that night you shared your first kiss behind the bleachers outside

You were his first kiss ever

Lazar always knew you were the one

You've been his closest friend and biggest supporter since you were kids on a playground

He just wanted to make himself feel worthy of you first

No one else makes him feel as comfortable in his skin as you do, and only you are allowed the special honor of touching his body

A gift you exercise frequently when you cuddle him at night

Mason

Alex didn't meet you until after Vietnam and the whole... brainwashing business

After trying and trying for years only to end up with an ever growing list of failed relationships, he just assumed he was too damaged to love

Besides, he's getting a bit older now... Maybe he's just not meant to find someone

Or so he thinks

He meets you randomly in public, on an ordinary day in an ordinary place

You two happen to hit a conversation and it just keeps going and going...

Until finally you exchange numbers and begin seeing each other more frequently

And that's when Alex knows you're the one, he can just... feel it deep down

But it isn't until one, vulnerable night, when he tells you about his past and the war and.... Well, everything, that he knows for sure

With so much fear being pushed about the Russian threat and all that, he thought for sure the knowledge that he's been a brainwashed sleeper agent once would scare you away

It was a shock for sure, but... You aren't afraid of him, in fact, you feel sympathetic for his plight of anything

Alex doesn't need your sympathy, mind, but he is thankful for the empathy

That's all he wants, really

That, and someone who'll hold him through the nightmares at night

Looks like he lucked out there too :)

Park

She met you as a fellow agent through MI6

Things were purely professional for a looooong time

But she must admit though, you're quite charismatic, cunning, and frankly?

Adorable

Helen's not quite sure when the joking, friendly flirting turned serious but...

She's glad for it

You ask her out on a date first and things go well

More then well

She doesn't kiss and tell, but let's just say... She knows you're the one

You always have her back on the field and off

You're her closest friend and confident

She's breaking the rules by cluing you in on the goings on with the hunt for perseus and all, but there's no one here she trusts more for feedback and brainstorming

But it's probably a good thing you're not in the safehouse, considering you almost killed someone after the skyhook debacle

She rolls her eyes at your fussing, but you swear to never let her go again

And you know what? Park may not show it, but she loves how much you care for her

Perseus

He met you back in the ussr, when he still looked like his picture

You two grew close in your service to the government, and you were one of the first people he trusted to try and recruit for his operation

When you didn't even hesitate to say yes, that's when he knew you were the one

You've already proven yourself and impressed him with your wit and integrity in your service to the ussr

In fact, few have ever stood out to him in such a way as you have

All he needed to know was if you trusted him and truly believed in a better future

Many are jelous to see you running around with the exceptionally handsome man, but perseus was never one to get hung up on looks

However, he's glad you enjoy his appearance as much as you do his mind

Together, you raise hell for the capitalists, bringing a true biting edge to the cold war threat

In return for your loyalty, he does all he can to keep you a secret, both as his lover and his accomplice

If anything happened to you like what happened to Bell...

He would take the fight to your captors himself

And they wouldn't stand a chance...

Weaver

He met you through working in Requiem

You're one of the strike team operators, but you spend a fair amount of time talking with the consultants and himself back at base

Weaver finds you a little intimidating, but in a good kind of way

Sort of how he use to be back in the day

When he realizes he may or may not have a little thing for you, he suddenly becomes very shy

He's afraid to try and make a move on you because surely rejection would be the only outcome?

After all, he's way too far past his prime by now, missing an eye and slowly letting himself fall out of shape

It's a mess

So why haven't you just moved on from him yet...?

Doctor Grey seems strangely invested in this little one sided romance, so with a bit of help, he manages to ask you out for coffee

The last thing he expected was for you to say yes

It's not until the day that you almost don't make it back to base that he realizes how very much you mean to him

Weaver stays with you as frequently as he can while you recover and can often be found cuddling you in your med bay bed (bc why the hell not?) or at home

He has to pull back a little on visiting you in the med bay however

He's starting to get teased for how much he loves all the head pets, jaw scratches, and tummy rubs you give him while you're bored and resting

Carver has now begun addressing him as "Fido" with no end in sight

Woods

He meets you out at the marine base he spends all his time at

It was one of the many occasions that he was doing target practice at the range, and he today he's caught you watching him

At first he honestly didn't think much of it, but of course he took the opportunity to show off a little

He succeeded in managing to lure you over with his skills, where you came to stroke his ego a bit

For that, he offers to show you some pointers and before either of you know it, target practice together becomes a regular occurance

From there, anything more social is up to you to initiate

He's a bit taken aback when you invite him out to do something off base sometime, but... He accepts

Once out of his element, he's like a whole other person

You're surprised to find that he's a lot more shy and little more warm towards you

You find it adorable

That starts the slippery path to how he knows you're the one

You're the only person he truly feels like he can be himself with

Everyone else expects the hardened sargent, and while that is still him...

He never feels like he has an opportunity to share his softer side

You can never complain about being cold or lonely with him around

Frank loves nothing more then cuddling with you whenever and wherever he can

Not only is it just, well, nice, to have the human contact, but it makes him feel like he gets to protect you

And nothing makes him happier then to see you safe :)

#black ops cold war #call of duty #russell adler x reader #frank woods x reader #jason hudson x reader #helen park x reader #eleazar azoulay x reader #lazar x reader #perseus x reader #grigori weaver x reader #alex mason x reader

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peachywrite · 3 years

Text

Unpleasant Pleasantries

Rohan Kishibe x JosukeSister!Reader

Trigger Warning: inappropriate stand use, mild suggestive themes

Rohan thought this to be the perfect opportunity to get back at that imbecile with the hair of a 60’s delinquent, but instead found something more fulfilling than revenge.

It was your first time meeting the famous mangaka, but Koichi insisted that you introduce yourself to the newly found stand user as a formality.

“It’s better to make friends than enemies, y/n! So please do this for me.” He begged, clasping his hands tightly together as he bowed.

“Koichi-chan, he ripped out pages from your face and tried to do the same to Okuyasu and Josuke. I don’t know if I trust this guy.” You sighed, nervous and even a little scared.

“It’ll be fine, when you tell him you’re related to Josuke, he won’t even think about trying anything!” Koichi’s eyes glistened, still silently begging you to go.

“Fine, but if I don’t show up back home in an hour, call Josuke please.” Koichi nodded enthusiastically, shouting thank yous while he ran off to find your brother.

Thanks to the written address Koichi had given you, it was easy to find the large Victorian mansion that belonged to the isolated artist.

“Come on, y/n. You can do this. Just a quick hello and you’re done.” You tried to psych yourself up, taking one last deep breath before approaching the walkway that led up to the door.

Knock Knock

You waited, your heart rate a bit too quick for your liking.

You could hear the steps on the other side slowly approaching and suddenly stopping, only to find the door creak by.

“Now who would be disrupting the Great Rohan Kishibe?” The man spoke in a sinister tone, swinging the door open.

Rohan Kishibe looked nothing like how you expected him to. He was built slim but still toned, his green hair neatly styled and face slim and sharp with a cute dolphin bandage placed on the bridge of his nose. His green eyes stared at you intently, as if he was trying to analyze your face as well.

“I-I’m really sorry I didn’t mean to cause you any trouble. My friend Koichi wanted me to introduce myself. I’m Y/N Higashikata. I’m a stand user and I go to school with the rest of the boys.” You stammer out, guilt hitting you for interrupting the presumably busy manga artist.

The man eyed you with a devilish smirk, clapping his hands together like he had discovered something amusing.

“You’re Josuke’s little sister! Oh how fun! You know, you’re too cute to be related to that boy. Now please come in, I’ll make you some tea and we can talk.”

“I’m actually the same age as him, and I’d love to join you but I got... study plans with K-Koichi!” You tried to avoid his stare but as he made eye contact, you knew you had lost.

“Nonsense! I’ll give him a call and let him know you’ll be studying with me, now please come in already.” His smile grew while he pulled you into his abode by your wrists.

The house was lightly decorated with manga related memorabilia on the wood carved shelves and many original panels from famous mangas hung framed on the soft toned walls, but the home still held a grand Victorian feeling to it.

Your original unease disappeared as you took in the grandeur of the mansion and the interesting items that adorned it so carefully. Rohan smirked at the curiosity in your eyes and the quick movements they made while you focused on specific areas of his home.

“Would you like a personal tour of the property before we study? I will warn you though, not all the rooms have been styled by yours truly yet. It’s a work in progress at the moment.” The smile he bared had you suspicious again, but you didn’t want to be rude to the owner of such a magnificent estate.

“As much as I would love to, your home is absolutely stunning, I sadly only have an hour to study. My mom would kill me if I got home late again.” A hefty sigh escaped your lips and you gave him your best upset expression you could muster.

You hoped he wouldn’t key in on your lying, remembering the warning Koichi had given you about his ability to discern genuine emotions from fake ones.

The mangaka squinted his eyes for a moment, causing your heartbeat to speed up substantially, but his face returned to its usual smile that you swore held a bit of deviousness underneath.

“Oh! it’s alright, dear. I understand. I’ll save it for your next visit. Let’s get to your work now, follow me to the kitchen. I’ll prepare us something and you can take a seat by the window.” He gently took your hand, guiding you to the kitchen and carefully pulling out a seat for you at his dining room table.

A beautiful bouquet set in a hand sculpted vase caught your interest on the table as Rohan busied himself with brewing a fresh pot of tea. The flowers were bright in color compared to the muted ones of the vase, but the contrast made both appear unique and appealing to the eye.

“I see you even appreciate the smaller details of a home. Though I am a mangaka, I do dabble in other forms of artistic expression. Take pottery for example, I glazed this vase in a muted color pallet so it could stand out on its own when beautifully bright flowers were placed in it. The two compliment each other nicely, don’t they?” He set down two tea cups and began to pour.

“Yes! And I especially love the bright purples in the lillies you picked here.” You gently touched a petal, Rohan now lightly tapping his cheek, pulling out a chair for himself to sit right beside you.

His closeness and unwavering gaze brought a heaviness to your chest, making you stumble over your words.

“Um-m thank you for treating me so well and letting me study in your home, Rohan-sensei.” You began to unpack your notes and textbook, Rohan scooting closer to analyze what you had written.

“No need to thank me, my dear. Now let’s get to your studies. What is it you need to work on today?” The smile he shares with you is comforting, but you can’t help but feel like he was plotting something.

You set your pencil bag down and prepare your notebook, trying to make yourself busy by setting up.

“Biology. I’ve only just recently started going to school in person, but I tested well enough to be placed in the highest class. Today we’re supposed to label all the organs in this frog drawing.” Your tone comes off as annoyed and Rohan picks up on it, tilting his head to the side while he reads your frog diagram.

“You aren’t a fan of biology? I’ve got a few anatomy sketches of animals you could use instead of this photocopied worksheet. Maybe that will help peak your interest?” He stands and saunters out to find his sketches, leaving you alone in the kitchen.

When Rohan returns, the two of you work on your Biology homework for about an hour, finishing the entire pot of tea in the process. You found out that Rohan was quite skilled at anatomy, having an entire sketchbook dedicated to the anatomy of many living things, including the likes of frogs and flowers. He was extremely helpful and fun to talk with.

As you packed up your bag, Rohan remained seated in his chair, playing with one of the lilies from the bouquet. You weren’t sure if you should head towards the door and leave Rohan or wait for him to stand and lead you out. You were about to speak when the mangaka interrupted with a swish of his pen in your direction.

“Heaven’s Door.”

You felt a sharp shove of air to your midsection, sending you onto the floor. Every movement you attempted was futile as the grinning artist looked down at you. A deep chuckle haunted you while he leaned in closer to your face. His hands gently caressed your cheek, opening it up like a book.

“I’m sorry, y/n. You’re interesting and I’d love to learn more about you, but I’m impatient. It’ll be far easier for me to just read you. Don’t fret, my dear. I’ll make sure you don’t remember this.” He flipped through your pages, ignoring the tears that ran down onto the very paper he was trying to read.

“Now let’s just read the juicy bits today. You were hospitalized along with your brother when you were only four, a strange parasite made up of Dio’s cells attacked your immune system at age twelve and had you bedridden until fairly recently.” The curiosity he held for your story excited him, the pen he held in one hand quickly wrote onto the notepad he placed on the floor beside your head.

You felt like sinking into yourself, ignoring his quips and teases as the embarrassment of the mangaka reading your thoughts and feelings enveloped you. It wasn’t fair. Why did he have to be this way? He was so kind before and just like a flick of a switch, he changed.

“Oh, now how did you escape that? Here we are, thanks to Mr.Joestar’s Hamon lessons, you not only came back from your illness, but gained a proper stand and the ability to wield Hamon just like your father and great grandfather! Wait, what’s this new paragraph about?” He squinted closely, reading your page out loud again.

“I have to visit Rohan Kishibe today because Koichi told me to. He practically begged. Even though I’m scared, Koichi gave me his word that nothing bad would happen. Rohan Kishibe looks very different from what I imagined a mangaka to look. Well, what did you expect me to look like?” His smirk grows as he continues on.

“Ah, another new bit is here! Rohan Kishibe is very good at anatomy, he’s been kind and helpful, I’d like to get to know him better. I think Josuke was just overreacting when he called Rohan Kishibe pure evil. I could see us being friends.”

His smile disappears skimming the next sentence, his usual tone of voice changed as he starts to read. He sounded upset, hurt even.

You were the one being wronged here! Why would he get upset? He doesn’t have the right.

“Josuke was right. Rohan Kishibe is not nice, he is terribly mean. He’s using me for his entertainment. He doesn’t care. Rohan Kishibe is not kind, he is not helpful, he is cruel, I don’t want to get to know him. I want to forget him.”

“I hate Rohan Kishibe. I hope to never see him again.”

Rohan paused, looking away from your pages, trying to focus on anything else for the moment.

“W-well, I’ll just fix this last paragraph and erase it from your mind. You’re being dramatic, I’m not as terrible as you describe me.” Chuckling to himself, he tries to laugh off his obvious pain and attempts to regain his composure.

“No! I won’t let you erase my emotions!” You shouted, a wave of Hamon spreading through his arm as his pen touched your page, his attempt to rewrite your memory foiled.

The mangaka was sent flying back, his right arm dropping the pen and your face finally shutting closed, returning your ability to move. Although you were upset at the betrayal of trust you gave the man, you felt a twinge of guilt in your heart when you spotted his still form draped across the wood floor, cradling the arm you had burned with your Hamon.

Running to his side, all thoughts of malice left your body while you attempted to get a better look at his injury. His arm was still intact thankfully, but it was badly burned and needed to be set correctly and quickly if he ever wanted it to heal properly. You took a deep breath and turned Rohan over to see if he was still conscious.

“Oh god, Rohan I’m so sorry. I don’t know what happened.” Your eyes fill with tears again as you see the artist weakly rest himself against the wall, still holding his arm close to his chest.

“No, no it’s alright. I brought this on myself. I accept that.” He grimaced, trying to take a peek at his injuries but too frightened to actually check.

“You read my thoughts and history, it wasn’t right but you didn’t physically hurt me. I don’t know how that happened, but I promise you I’ll fix it.” You swore to the manga writer, now searching through your backpack.

When you found your pair of scissors, you went into full first aid mode, removing the sleeve from his right arm by carefully cutting the loose cloth off. After tossing the short sleeve to the side, you cut the bottom of the skirt you were wearing off into a long bandage-like shape of clothing and ran it under the cold tap water from the kitchen sink, returning to the injured Rohan.

“I’m going to wrap your arm with this, it won’t be painful if you let me use my stand, but I’m going to ask you first before I use her on you.” The man nodded, accepting your offer to erase the pain.

“Under Pressure. She’s a stand that has the ability to manipulate emotions. She can change them within a radius or focus on only one individual. When she focuses on a single person, she is only able to change their emotion to the opposite of what is being felt.” You began to wrap his arm, nervous about what he might feel when you placed the wet fabric loosely around it.

All Rohan could do was bite back his lip to avoid making any embarrassing sounds. Instead of the immeasurable pain he imagined to come with dressing a freshly burned wound, he felt a wave of euphoria. He now understood what you meant by the “opposite” emotion would be felt.

The artist never knew wrapping his burned arm would feel so good, every touch caused his breath to hitch in his throat and his eyes to water. It confused him, even though he understood that the opposite of pain was pleasure, it still startled him every time you did one more pass of the homemade bandage.

He tried his hardest not to be flustered, but when you finished off his arm by tieing the last bit with a knot, he let a small whimper escape his lips. His hand shot up to cover his face, it’s hue now a bright crimson.

Your cheeks turned bright pink as well. You turned away swiftly, to avoid eye contact.

“U-Um just stay put. I’m gonna borrow your phone for a second and let you catch your breath.” Scratching the side of your cheek, you stand up and make a b-line for the phone, dialing your home and hoping that Josuke would pick up. You glanced at the clock set on the wall, it read 8:15.

I’m late.

As soon as the phone line rang once, you spotted the front door to Rohan’s manor fly across the main hall. Peeking your head out from the kitchen, you see a furious Josuke with Koichi in pursuit.

“ROHAN-SENSEI! WHERE IS MY SISTER YOU CREEP?! SHE WAS SUPPOSED TO BE HOME 15 MINUTES AGO!” He yells out, his voice echoing throughout the home.

“Josuke! I’m here! I was just about to call you. Listen, I messed up bad and hurt Rohan. He’s in the kitchen bandaged up but I need you to heal him all the way.” You run to Josuke, giving him a tight hug while trying not to cry from the stress of the situation.

Josuke squeezes you once and let’s you go, looking you over from head to toe so he could make sure you weren’t injured as well. When he spots your torn skirt, his aura radiates a dark malice you’d never seen him show before.

“Wait Josuke! I did this to myself, we didn’t have bandages so I cut some cloth.”

He looks you over again and sighs heavily, the purple hue that was full of rage, leaving him.

“Ok, fine. Where’s that jerk? I’ll fix him up real quick so we can go home.” He grumbled, following you into the kitchen.

Even though Rohan wanted to refuse any treatment from Josuke, he finally accepted the help when you threatened to cry on the spot. His arm had returned to its previous state, unburned and fully functional, thanks to Josuke and Shining Diamond.

Josuke picked up your backpack and held the now fixed front door open for you, while Rohan stood and waved goodbye. You awkwardly returned the wave and made your way back home, your thoughts chaotic and confused.

On the one hand you felt guilty for putting Rohan through such an immense amount of pain, but you were also upset at the humiliation he put you through by reading your life with Heaven’s Door. These thoughts plagued your mind as you laid your head to rest for the night.

It was roughly two in the afternoon when Rohan Kishibe knocked on your front door. A short but older woman answered, complaining about the loudness of the knocks when she looked over the artist.

“Oh, my apologies. You’re that Rohan Kishibe my kids talk about. How may I help you, Mr. Kishibe?” She asked with a warm tone to her voice, leaning against her door frame and smiling up at him.

“Is y/n in? I’d like to deliver this to her personally.” He spoke softly, shaking the box he held in his hands.

Your mother couldn’t help but chuckle to herself. He appeared to be anxious and uncomfortable, most likely it was his first time gifting something like this.

“She’s not home yet, but give her five minutes. Why don’t you come in? You can wait for her up in her room, just don’t go raiding her drawers or anything.” She joked, Rohan’s cheeks turning vivid scarlet.

“I’m only pulling your leg, sweety. I know you’re better than that. Now come on! Have a seat at her desk and I’ll bring you up some lemonade.” Rohan followed her inside.

When they reached your room, Mrs.Higashikata opened the door and waved her hand to your desk seat.

“Pull up that chair there and I’ll be back with some refreshments.” Her smile gleamed at him. She walked off to the kitchen, leaving the artist alone in your room.

Rohan browsed around your room, taking in the personality that was apparent by the many bits of decor that gave your little private space a peculiar style. Your walls held photos printed on Polaroid film, sketches presumably drawn by you, and posters of your favorite video games and shows.

When he glanced around your room, he was immediately caught off guard when he spotted two volumes of his very own manga, propped up and on display in your bookcase. To say he was flattered was an understatement, he was completely floored. You were a fan of his?

His heart was heavy all of a sudden, he felt a dreadful pain in his chest while he held the book in his hands. He turned his head toward the doorway when he heard your voice greet your mother. To regain himself, he quickly skimmed through the pages of the manga he was holding, hearing your distant conversation come to an end.

You entered the room. Dropping your bag at the corner of the closet, your eyes never leaving Rohan while you take a seat on your bed. The mangaka gently placed your copy of Pink Dark Boy back in its original position, turning around now to face you.

“I’d like to humbly apologize for my abhorrent behavior and actions yesterday. I was terrible. I know it might be asking too much of you, but I brought you this as a peace offering. I want us to start over. I’d like to get to know you the right way.” He passes you the box he was carrying with him, nudging you to open it.

Casually unknotting the bow and removing the lid from the bottom, you slowly lift what appears to be a white sundress out of the box. It was beautifully made and looked to be just your size.

“I know it’s not the skirt you tore, but I felt like you deserved something a little more unique.” He averts your gaze quickly when you attempt to gauge his reaction.

The mangaka appears to be flustered, apparently not very used to apologizing. His eyes held a fear of rejection but also a glimmer of hope. A breath you never knew you were holding was released with a quiet hum.

“It’s beautiful, thank you, but do know that buying me things isn’t going to repair my trust in you. We can at the very least start over though.”

Rohan smiled to himself, thankful for your empathetic nature, and nodded a quick yes.

“Now that the pleasantries are out of the way, how about we take that dress and enjoy some tea at the cafe? My treat.”

#rohan kishibe x reader #kishibe rohan x reader #rohan kishibe #kishibe rohan #jjba reader insert #jjba part 4 #jjba x reader #jjba

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secondhand-trash · 4 years

Text

Gift of Nature

Kinktober 2020 — oviposition

A/N: my main kink is making usually “hard" kinks soft...

Pairing: naga!Daishou Suguru x reader

Description: "Nature always remembers.”

Warning: oviposition, vaginal penetration, oral (receiving), belly bulge, breeding kink, mentions of abandonment, far too much plot considering how this was supposed to be porn

Word count: 7362

The village held a celebration when the team of huntsmen came back with their catch.

Everyone rushed out of their houses at the triumphant horns that signaled their arrival, the rumours of what they had caught already spread like wildfire among people when the first messenger that was sent running back from the depths of the forest to the chief of the village came back panting, speaking to the chief in low whispers only to have the old man let out an audible gasp.

You heard the women of the village say that it was the first time they had ever seen the chief that shocked around the laundry basket that evening.

People gathered around the road at the center of the village that reached to the chief’s house, murmuring to themselves as the footsteps of the huntsmen neared. The first screak from the crowd was followed by an echo of gasps and exclaims that rose and fell as the men walked past. They had their heads up to the sky, their feet dragging along the ground as if they were deliberately slowing down their steps to bask in the reactions from the villagers.

You were at the very back of the crowd when it all happened, as you always were whenever anything big happened in the village.

Your parents were traveling merchants would reach the village many many years ago, disappearing one night leaving nothing but a crying child behind. You were taken in by a family that didn’t have their own child but still, there was this thing about being the village’s orphan, and it was that there was no one you could turn to that would possibly favour you over the actual children of the village. Even if they say everyone was supposed to work a fair share, who could you tell on if your fellow workers dropped all their remaining work to you the moment they heard the crowd gathering outside?

Getting on your tiptoes, you peeked from behind the shoulders of the many people standing in front of you like a wall. You could barely see what was going on in front, only seeing the top of people’s heads. The sound of something heavy being dragged along the muddy ground got near, and soon the people that could see it got loud.

“I thought the gossips were fake!”

“I can’t believe they actually caught that...”

The people said between bewildered gasps and mocking cackles and you tried to slip through the gaps between bodies to no avail. You finally caught a glimpse of the creature when the crowd slowly moved apart as the huntsmen passed, starting another round of the same echoes with the people from down the road.

People would talk about the creature all throughout the day as the great feast commemorating this great feat was in preparation, each person’s description of the fearsome creature that the huntsmen had trapped and brought back wildly different from another's.

You did not join in on the arguments about whether the scales on the creature’s snake-like body was green or brown, or the growingly cruel laughs about what they should do with the creature once the celebrations were over. They asked you if you had seen the creature, only for the question to be brushed off with shrieking laughers before you could even part your lips.

You did not mind, you were not going to give an answer they would be happy about anyways. For it was not the shiny scales or chillingly human torso that you remembered, but he sheer loathing in the creature’s glowing eyes that remained in the blank darkness of your mind, vivid in your head each time you did so little as blink your eyes.

The huntsmen that caught the naga were treated as heroes during the feast.

There were food and wine, a luxury that was rarely seen for a village as humble as yours unless there was a wedding or to celebrate the yearly harvest. The leading huntsmen, a tall man who wielded his bow wherever he went, got louder and louder with each mug of wine he poured down his throat. He kept recounting how he (”with the help of my brothers, of course,” he would always add about midway through his yells), with his bravery and wits, was able to trap the usually sly and tactful creature.

You took a sip of your honeyed wine every time the crowd cheered as he recalled, with a dramatic rise of his voice, of how with a moment of great reflex, he stabbed the naga before it could leap on him to sink its venomous fangs into his skin. The same story got old if you kept listening to it throughout the night, and his story kept getting more and more exaggerated with each time he opened his mouth. You looked around the people near you, wondering if they also caught onto the fact that his tale was starting to feel off, but all you turned your gaze back to the burgundy liquid in your mug when all you saw was how they all seemed drunk in pride of their fellow villagers great deed.

You looked around, before slowly backing out of the long table you were seated at. The last thing you heard before you paced away along the road towards the direction of your home was the roars of the crowd following a raise of the huntsman’s jug to the starry sky.

“Tomorrow at dusk, we will skin the creature and let what was remained of it be a proud relic of our village’s history!”

The village was quiet with everyone gathering at the town square for the feast, all the huts and houses along the way empty and dark. Your steps quickened, guided by nothing but the twinkling of stars above your head.

Until you saw a slither of light spilling out from the hut at the far corner of your vision.

There could only be one reason why there was a room still lighted when everyone was away...

Tentatively walking close, you looked around to see if anyone was guarding the hut. You raised your eyebrows up in question when you realised that you were all alone with no one in sight, not even from afar. The way they talked about the catch like it was a monumental moment in human civilisation, you would think they might try to be a little more cautious with it. You paused right outside the door, feeling chills running down your spine at the thought of what was inside.

You still remembered its eyes, and you wondered if it would haunt you if those eyes were cast upon you.

You gulped, swallowing your nerves. Just one look, you thought to yourself as your finger hoovered against the wooden door, just a peek and you would go...

“What do you think you’re doing, little one?"

You clasped your hands around your lips at the squeak that was near slipping out, your eyes widening as you stood there with your back straight, frozen in fear at being caught.

“I felt you walking near from miles away so no reason to back away now,” the voice rang again, a soft hiss following the last syllable, “promise I don’t bite.”

This was wrong, you should not even be here. If anyone in the village knew you got near the hut let alone talk to the naga, the talk would be endless. Silence loomed the chilly air, a hint of anticipation thickening your breathes as you felt the naga waiting for you to go inside. Your face was burning, your mind in a state of blank and your hands feeling clammy at your sides.

You thought of the naga’s eyes, the slither of gold that looked so inhuman but also showed more emotions than any animal was capable of. Those same eyes were now staring at the door you were standing outside of, bearing holes into the piece of wood as it waited for you to go in.

You let out a shaky breath, and pushed the door open with the very tip of your finger.

The hut was illuminated by the flickering candle light in the center, its surroundings still very much so dimmed. The hut had been an abandoned shed, the weed still covering the creaking wood of the flooring. You stepped into the hut, observing the ground you stepped on carefully before landing your foot lightly.

“Go on, come closer,” it said, and you felt like your body was hypnotised by its voice that made your scalp tingle.

You forgot to breathe when you finally saw the naga. Its... no, his body was far larger than you had thought it would be just from guessing by how heavy he sounded being dragged to the village. At the side of the hut he was laying on, his long tail curled into loops around the corner of the room, green scales looking like crushed pieces of emerald under the candle light even with the dirt that dusted on top, adorning his body all the way until the scales blended into skin much like your own. Everyone kept calling him “the creature” that you found a strange sickness stirring in your stomach at how utterly human he looked leaning against the wall, his arms crossing loosely around his stomach. He had a handsome face, far more than any of the boys you grew up with in the village, with hair so inky it almost looked black less for the slight shift of green as the fire flickered matted to the side of his forehead.

The breath that was stuck at the back of your throat hitched when your eyes met his. You had imagined seeing hatred, or mockery, but plastered onto his face that didn’t look much different to the men of your village, his eyes were pressed into two thin slits on his face like the glowing moon at the depths of night.

There was no hatred, no belittlement, no malice, nothing. He just looked tired, that was all.

The naga squinted at you, “Why are you doing standing so far away?”

He opened his eyes when he saw that you made no intention to move, letting out a soft sigh from his thin lips. You could see the split tip of his tongue poking out as he exhaled. He weakly lifted his hand from his stomach and you winced when you saw the blood that was seeping out of the large wound right at the side of his waist. There was an iron cuff around his wrist, chained to the hook on the wall he was leaning on.

“I can’t hurt you even if I want to, not like this,” he hissed when he slowly put his hand down back at his stomach, “it has been a while since I talked to someone so just...” there was the slightest curl at the corner of his lips as he stared at you, “humour me, little one. Do some good and grant the creature its dying wish.”

His eyes followed you as you got closer and closer to him in fumbled steps, sitting down at the corner opposite to his at his side of the hut. You shifted when you felt the slightest flick of the end of his tail at your side, earning you a breathy chuckle from the naga.

“Why aren’t you at the feast?” he asked, using the last bit of his strength to push against the wall and sat up just a little to look at you.

The feast that celebrated his capture. There was bitterness welling up in your mouth when you thought of why people were still singing and dancing at the center of the town, the reasoning seeming almost absurd now that you were talking to the creature who looked more like you than any of the previous catches that the huntsmen had brought back.

“I don’t really like crowds,” you replied, holding your knees to your chest, “and the same story gets old real quick.”

“Ah,” he tilted his head, “the story of how they caught me?”

You nodded, looking at him from the corner of your eyes to see his reaction. “Did they tell people that they ambushed me while I was shredding my skin?”

Your eyes widened, “What?”

The naga huffed, laughing dryly, “Thought so.”

You blinked, thinking of how this changed the whole narrative of the villagers bravely fought against the dangerous monster. No wonder why the story got wilder and wilder each time, it was much easier to make up stories of great conquers than admitting to your schemes.

“If the skin is all they wanted then they could have just take the one I just shed off,” the naga continued, “but well, then they wouldn’t get to parade around the village and have a huge feast in their name.”

He let out a loud sigh, looking up at the ceiling of the hut. “People knew that vanity perishes easily so they milk it as much as they could,” he closed his eyes and laughed, shaking his head like he caught himself in a moment, “one day, one day they too would be nothing but a tale.”

His gaze on you was almost gentle when he looked down, making you feel so small sitting next to him.

“But nature, little one,” he spoke slowly, like a whisper that floated into your ears, “nature always remembers.”

You did not dare move under his stare, like even the slightest flinch would reduce you to ashes. He moved away first, chuckling to himself before it turned into coughs, his eyebrows locking together in pain. “I must have bored you,” he said, “forgive me, I never thought I would ever get to talk to someone even before my death.”

It was terror you felt when you remembered what the man had yelled before you left the feast, that they would skin the creature tomorrow at dusk.

The same creature you were talking to right now, who looked and sounded more human than beast.

“Do you think you could go far into the woods before daybreak?”

The naga looked up, “I don’t have the strength to break the chains, little one.”

You got up, the naga glanced to his side when you stepped near him for the first time. Humans could be quite lovely if you meet the right ones, he hummed to himself as you held the chain that was hooked to the wall in hand.

The hut was old, and out of shape. You pressed your feet flat against the wall with both hands on the rusty hook that drilled into the wall, and pulled with all your might. You let out a slight gasp of joy when the wood around the hook cracked, breaking the piece of metal out with nothing but chirped pieces of wood on the floor and a hole on the wall.

“They are going to skin you alive next morning,” you said towards the naga who stayed still, looking at you, “you should leave while they are still busy feasting.”

Daishou blinked, wondering if he should let you know that he already knew. He had lived longer than any of the men who trapped him, one of the many reasons why he felt so angered and humiliated as they dragged him along the woods that he had inhabited, catching him at his most defenseless state. If it wasn’t for how weak he was in his new skin, he would have never been stabbed, and it would not be hard for him to escape the unguarded hut at all. But laying in the dark, he was too tired to think of a way to break free and he had accepted that this was to be his downfall. He would have to admit that he beckoned you to go in because he found the way you gingerly peeked inside rather amusing, but it was no lie when he said that he just wanted someone to talk to.

He thought it would be nice to have the slightest bit of faith towards mankind who was bred from the same land that bred him, that was all.

“Would this get you into trouble, little one?”

“They wouldn’t know it’s me,” you smiled, “they barely notice me anyways.”

He looked like he wanted to say something but decided not to, before he slowly raised his hand. You didn’t flinch away when the tip of his finger touched your skin, shivering at how cold his touch was as he trailed it down your jaw.

The way he slithered across the floor was slow at first, with his hand pressed onto his wound to stop the blood from leaving a trail on the floor, until he got used to moving around with the slit at his waist and maneuvered his way past where you stood. He cast you one last glance at the door, before disappearing into the night.

For a while, you just stood there, staring at where he disappeared. You could still hear the faint sound of music from far away and it was what made you remember how you basically betrayed the entire village for the naga whose name you didn’t even get to ask.

You ran out of the hut, not once looking back until you reached your home.

The next morning, you woke up to hysteric yells from outside.

The creature had escaped, people whispered, breaking out of the chains it was bound to. The huntsman was furious, screaming at his hunting brothers for not guarding the hut properly.

“I should have slain the beast when I had the chance!” he slammed his fist on the nearest wall, the loud bang making you jump as tension around him thickened.

They tried to search for the hurt naga days and weeks afterwards but came back with a frown every time. The village went through another harvest during that time, and the huntsmen finally gave up when the first fall of snow covered the woods with a layer of white. People soon moved on, forgetting about the creature as life continued with the change of seasons.

But not you, you never forgot about the naga and his glowing eyes.

The village was struck by the worst famine it had ever experienced the coming year.

Heavy rain poured from the sky for days and days onwards, the main road of the village looking like a muddy river flowing past your door as it went on. The storm eventually stopped, but all the crops that were newly planted were all suffocated from the inches of water they were drowned in, and the soil was far too fragile for the new seeds to even form sprouts. The chief ordered for the village’s storage of produce to be rationed to each family, but all they could feel was despair when the hut became empty.

People scrambled to find anything that was edible, those who were lucky enough to find food hiding it in the most secretive spot in their houses in fear of being found out and told to split with the rest of the village.

Everyone was miserable. Occasionally, when you dragged your tired body through the village, you could hear the weak cries of hungry children and sighs of desperate parents.

People tried to survive purely on catches from the forest for a while but every day, the huntsmen brought back less and less until they returned empty handed one day.

“It is like they could feel that we are depending on them to live,” the leading huntsman gritted, his hands curled into fists like he was about to make his palm bleed from how deep his nails were dug in.

The chief cried, looking up to the sky that was ironically clear that day and exclaimed, “The gods have decided to doom our village!”

You were not sure if the gods had anything to do with it, but all you thought of as the chief teared up in front of his people for the first time many could recount was the soft hisses that rolled off the naga’s tongue many many moons ago.

Nature always remembers.

The crowd stayed silent as the old man sobbed, clearing his throat with a cough before sucking in a deep breath. He looked emotionless when he looked back up again, his throat feeling tight as he forced his voice out.

“I never thought this would happen during my years as the chief,” he spoke slowly, his eyes pressed tightly together as he swallowed the weight in his chest, “but we must offer a sacrifice to the gods in exchange for their mercy. This is the only way we could survive.”

Who would become the offering would be decided by a vote between the head of every family in the village, the chief said. No one said a word even after the meeting was dismissed, returning to their homes with a solemn heart, heavy spirit and wordless sorrow in their chest.

You felt a drop of tear rolling down your face that night, already feeling the dread build up at what was to come.

You took it surprisingly well when the elders of the village called you to the chief’s house. You already knew that this would be the result when you heard the there was to be a vote. After all, who would vote off their own kin? It was acquaintances before friends, friends before family when it came to choices as hard to make as who’s life to take, and the fact that you had no family was just the sad truth.

The villagers treated you the nicest in the few days before you were to be left in the forest as an offering for the ancient gods to claim than you had ever remembered, but you would much rather not see the pity in their eyes when they tied you up around the biggest tree in the middle of the forest.

The forest at night was dark and cold, the thin white rob on your body barely able to shield you from the howling wind. There was a moment when you wanted to cry, but your throat was so painful from the dryness that you could not even make a sound. Your eyes were getting heavy, feeling like you were about to drift into unconsciousness as time passed by agonisingly slow.

Would you die of fatigue first or from the beasts looming the woods?

You were about to give in when you heard the cracks of the tweed on the ground. It was the sound of something heavy dragging along the dirt, the sound of something getting closer and closer.

It was here, you thought to yourself, closing your eyes as you awaited, the supposed gods that were here to claim you.

“Little one.”

It must be the hunger taking over, or the lack of rest. Either way, you must have been so disoriented that you were starting to hear voices. You did not open your eyes, too afraid of seeing nothing but the empty woods when you do.

Until you felt a light touch on your chin, so light you would miss it if you hadn’t been hoping that it would happen at the bottom of your heart, and you shot your eyes open.

His eyes were just a bright as you remembered it to be. The golden slits on his face like the moon, his pupils pressed into a thin line in the middle as they fixed on you. Your positions had changed since the last time you met, with you being the one tied up waiting for your death while he stood tall on his tail, a faint line slashed across his waist was all the remained of the fatal wound.

“Little one, are you here with me?” he spoke again, the tip of his finger treading on your skin as he waited for a response.

“It’s you...”

“Good, you’re still awake,” he hummed, his hand now came to cradle your chin as his thumb rubbed against the side of your jaw, “I’ll try to get you down now, you think you can still stand?”

He chuckled when you gave him a weak nod, his fingers lingering on your face as he pulled his hand back. He stood up just a little higher, gliding around the thick trunk of the tree before finding where the knots were.

His tail thumped against the ground impatiently as his hands fumbled with the rope, pulling and scratching on the knot with his nails. Finally, you were lowered onto the ground when the rope so tight around you it felt suffocating loosened up. You wanted to land on your feet but your knees buckled the moment the tip of your toes touched the solid ground, falling forward with a sudden blankness of your vision. He was by your side in a swift slither, curling his tail around your body to hold you still.

“It’s ok... it’s ok, little one, you’re safe now,” he said, almost sounding a bit panicky as he watched you lay weakly against his long body, "can you get on my back?”

He held your knees with his hand the moment you shifted your weight onto his back, turning around to make sure that you were secure before slowly slithering away. His back clenched under your weight, each pull of his body taking you a bit ahead before he glanced at you who laid quietly on his back before moving again.

His skin was cold, much like the scales that covered his body even though it didn’t feel much different from your skin by touch but for some reason, you felt your chest warming up from the regular inhales and exhale right under your ear as you leaned on him.

“How did you know I was there?”

His muscles tightened at your breathy whisper. Daishou looked back to see that your eyes were fluttering close, staring at him through your lashes as you laid on his back.

He looked down, his fingers that were under your knees curling a little tighter on your skin.

“I told you,” the naga smiled, “nature never forgets.”

It was starting to get colder and colder. You shivered at the sudden wave of chills on your arms, and snuggled closer to your love’s side.

The sound of the small stream flowing through the center of the cave you were in trickled down your ear as Daishou wrapped his tail just a little closer around your frame, a bit of a performative gesture when he knew that he was the last one that could provide you with any warmth.

Nagas built their lairs near rivers and water, a force of habit that was left from their ancestors. This made it hard for you to start a fire within the humid cave, with the moisture in the air and how easy it was for fire wood to get damped. You tried to make place for a fire when you first settled in with Daishou but soon gave it up after many failures and how he always stayed far away whenever you crouched near the burning fire.

“I don’t like flames,” he said, hissing out the last word as he pulled you close to him that night in the dark, cold cave. The moss that he laid out on the ground for you was soft, but it was his long body curled up under you that really acted as the pillow you needed against the stone hard floor.

Right now, the naga had you pressed up closely to his side with his tail tapping against your legs calmly. You buried your face at the crook of his neck, salvaging for the slightest bit of warmth you could get from him with each gentle exhale from his chest.

It was alright, you much prefer falling asleep with him by your side to any fire.

“Suguru, are you going into hibernation soon?”

He looked down at you, his eyes like two slants of light that filtered in through the cracks of the cave. Nagas were not the same as any regular cobras that inhabited the woods but there were still habits from their counterparts that they could not separate from. Soon, in the worst days of winter when the cave you were in now would be blocked by snow and wind slamming against its stone walls, he would be soundly asleep only to awake when warmth returns. He had never worried about going into hibernation before until you came around. It would only be a few weeks and he had already spent the last months scavenging for food so you wouldn’t have to leave the safety of his lair while he wasn’t around but it still made his heart ache at the thought of you being alone nonetheless.

“Soon,” he said, nudging the top of your head with his chin in an act of comfort, “but I can try to stay awake for longer.”

“No, no, don’t force yourself” you were quick to respond, earning you a slight quirk of his eyebrow as the corner of his lips lifted up in amusement at your immediate worry. Your finger traced along where his skin met his scales, the area always a bit more textured than the rest of his tail. “I’ll miss you when it happens though.”

He laughed, his voice rumbling from the back of his throat as he dipped his head down, “I’d still be here, you know?”

“But asleep,” you corrected. You gulped, having second thoughts on what you were about to suggest but it evaporated into thin air as you breathed out, trying to sound as nonchalant about it as you could, “it’ll be nice if I can still have something of yours around for company while you are sleeping...”

“You make it sound like I’ll be dead-” he stopped abruptly, suddenly catching onto what you said. His eyes widened but his pupils pressed into a thin thread as he stared at you, “you don’t mean...?”

“Yes,” you sat up, throwing your arms around his waist and looked up at him, “yes I do.”

Daishou had fought back his instincts to spawn many times before, too cautious of how the difference in physique might be hard on you. He found many ways to please you and have your body caving for him but never go beyond making you feel good. There were numerous occasions when he was close to snapping, many of which had to do with how sweet your scent was whenever you pressed up against him much like what you were doing now. Still, he held back, knowing that you would gladly give him one if he wanted to.

But there was never a time when you suggested the idea yourself, and the thought of you wanting his hatchlings was starting to light a fire on all the desires he had buried away.

Daishou searched for any hint of reluctance in your eyes but found nothing. He was hesitant in his movements as he held your hand, pressing it close to his bare chest before nudging the back of your head with his nose, a simple gesture of courting and a search for compliance. His breath was shaky as he sighed, the warm huffs of his exhale trailing down to your neck and you threw your head back until you were leaning against him.

A soft whimper slipped from your lips when he pressed a feather light kiss at the crock of your neck before tilting your jaw towards him. For a cold-blooded creature, his lips were incredibly hot when they latched onto yours. You gripped onto his arms for leverage when he slowly lost himself, a content sigh ripped from his throat when you parted your mouth further. Even after so long, his tongue still elicited a tingle along your spine when you felt it invading your mouth. The slit at the tip of his tongue brushed against the walls of your cavity, making your back arch as he stole away the oxygen in your lungs bit by bit. You panted every time he briefly let you go, only to pull you back in once you regain your breath.

There was a string of silver connecting your lips when he parted from you. His core tightened at the sight of your heaving chest, your eyes half-closed with your lips parted like a pout at the lost of contact.

How could he not give you what you wanted when you looked like that?

“Get on your knees, little one.”

You felt the wave of warmth rushing to your core at how his voice was lower than usual with an added gravel that reached right to the depth of your stomach. His usual pet name sounded unfamiliar, painting the loving term he used for you in a different light that made your skin heat up.

You did as he was told, sliding off of his body to lay with your chest down on the soft moss with your knees propping you up. Anticipation welled up when you heard him moving behind you, his long tail sliding across the ground and curling up around your ankle. You shuddered when you felt his hand on the small of your back, pushing you down gently and making you arch your back even more. The soft hiss that rolled off his tongue sent shivers down your spine as he bunched up the thin frock you were wearing, the same one that you wore when he first brought you here and gave you a home that was truly yours.

You buried your face into your crossed arms, feeling your pussy clenched around nothing at the cold air that you were now exposed to. He eyed your quivering form like a predator, searching for the perfect spot to land a hit. Your mouth parted with a silent whine when his hands gripped on your hips, his thumb spreading your folds apart to see the muscles of your walls spasming. He groaned when you tried to push your hips back, your waist wiggling as you urged him to touch you right where you were begging him to.

A muffled moan was all the confirmation he needed when his long tongue ran up your slit, a slight flick when he got to the top had your toes curling. Your nails dug into the moss when he got bolder, swirling his tongue around your clit as he latched onto your cunt with an opened mouth. He had learnt to take advantage of his snake-like tongue on you, nudging against the sensitive bud that was starting to engorge with the parted tip as he pressed the flatted part of his tongue on your folds.

“Suguru-” you cried when he slipped his tongue into you, sending a sharp burn all over your body when he stretched into you. Teasingly running the tip along your walls, he held you still as you shifted in front of him at the sensation. A sharp mewl was ripped from the back of your throat when he pushed his tongue in deeper and deeper, searching for the spot that would make you melt under him.

“Please... so god- so good!”

Your voice was nothing but an incoherent babble, making him want to be just a little bit meaner to you to hear you cry. You did just as he had hoped when he retracted his tongue, a broken moan choked from the back of your throat at the lost of contact.

“Don’t be impatient, little one,” his hissing did nothing to ease the burn in your stomach, each syllable landing in your eardrum like a hypnotising note as he ran his tongue along his lips, savouring the taste of your essence on his tongue before leaning close again, “gotta get you stretched out all nice and wet so I can finally breed you properly...”

Your entire body jolted when you felt the shocks that ran down to the tip of your toes and numbing your scalp. His tongue slid in and out of you, aiming at the spongey spot right below your cervix as his fingers dug into the soft flesh of your hips. His tail was coiled around you, holding you still as your knees threatened to give in. His name rolled off of your tongue like a mantra and it brought him back to the old ages when he was worshipped, only this gave him a rush like no other that even praise and songs written about him could not match.

You came around his tongue when he expertly hit the same spot once, twice, three times, your breasts squished against the floor as your body shook. He gave a few more pumps of his tongue, coaxing you down before slowly pulling out not without treading it along you. You felt your body going mush but still mustered the strength to arch your ass back, presenting yourself to him in a wordless plea for him to carry through. Your shoulders were nearly cramping when you stiffly turned around, looking at him from the corner of your glassy eyes.

The hold on your ankle loosened up when he crawled over your back, his chest pressing against you as his hand overlapped on yours. Fingers interlocking, he leaned down to kiss along the blade of your shoulder, as if preparing you for what was to come. At where his hips would be if he was human, a slit that was usually not noticeable had been pulsing open ever since he tasted the saltiness of your arousal, a tip of some sorts poking out whenever you moaned his name in that sweet voice of yours. Your breath hitched when you saw what resembled a human cock but much thicker and longer from the opening, veins of blue and green along its sides like vines that had your stomach flipping just at the thought of it being inside of you.

Daishou peppered his lips on your back when he tentatively brought his hips forward, brushing the tip of his cock along your sopping folds. A whimper came out as a choke when he pushed the tip in, your hand gripping vicely around his as your body felt like it was being torn open at the seams from the stretch. He hissed a soothing rhythm in your ear, his hand holding tightly onto yours as he pushed in bit by bit, biting his lips as he tried to keep himself together. You felt far better than he could ever imagine you to be, so warm and so tight around his girth.

Perfect for his eggs to lay.

“Hm- agh!" You screeched, your head dropping down as tears of pain formed at the corner of your eyes.

“Just a little bit more,” he kissed you again and again as he glanced down, seeing that he was already half way inside of you, “you are doing so well, perfect for our babies...”

You held onto his voice, focusing on how full you felt and how your body was already reacting to the want of carrying his child. You blinked frantically, trying to push away the tears in your eyes and focused on the coil that was forming in your stomach. You two simultaneously let out a content sigh when he finally sheathed in you, the pain slowly replaced by an overwhelming burn that set your senses ablaze when he finally started moving in you.

It started out as subtle thrusts of his hips, until a few weak mewls slipping past your trembling lips egged him on, telling him that you could handle it rougher. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as each surge of his hips had his tip jackhammering right at the most sensitive spot of your body, making your toes curl and every hair on your neck stood up.

“Our hatchlings would be so beautiful, so beautiful like you..” he muttered in your ear, his breaths getting rigid as you clamped down around him. He had you wrapped up between him, with his arms at both sides of your body and his pelvis together with the long tail trailing behind slamming against the curve of your hips. “I can already imagine- hmph- imagine your belly swelling up from my eggs.”

You whined at the thought which turned into a high pitch cry when you felt the tip of his cock opening up inside of you. One of his hands went down to hold you by the side of your waist, securing you in the position he had you in as he felt his guts clenching.

Nothing could stop your body from crashing down when you felt what was like a gelatin sphere from slipping out of his tip. Shocks of unexplained tingles shot down your spine when it pushed past your cervix and stuck onto the walls of your womb, leaving a burn on where it brushed past before it blended into your gut. You saw dots of your vision, your voice going hoarse as you came from the first egg he put inside of you. The gushing wetness from your orgasm made it easier for him to push the rest of it in, his face buried at the crock of your neck as he stayed still with the tip of his tail pointed.

“I’ve wanted to fill your stomach up for so long, little one,” he let out a breathy chuckle when you whined at his words, “just the thought of you glowing with our children had me weak, you know that?”

“Please, please...” you could not say anything else as more of his eggs pushed into your womb, your stomach feeling heavy as a bulge formed when his eggs had located. You could not count how many times you had cum around him with him breeding you full, putting his spawn in your stomach as he muttered praises after praises in your ear

“It’s ok, let go,” he said, holding your shaking body up as he grunted, “just one more...”

Your vision went blank at the final push. Everything that happened later was a blur, with his voice sounding like it was from a distance away as he humped against you, spurts of warm cum gushing into your already full stomach to fertilise his youngs that were no doubt growing in your womb already. The last thing you heard before you completely lost in the sea of darkness in your head, was a hissed word of “I love you” against your temple before you succumb to the heavy feeling in your eyelids.

You woke up after god knows how long with your eyelids fluttering open.

“Sh... stay down,” Daishou was quick to lay you back down when you tried to sit up but couldn’t with the weight in your stomach that you had forgotten about, “let me take care of you.”

You chuckled, your hand running down your waist to feel the bump on your lower stomach with awe. “You always take care of me.”

"I know, I know...” he said, kissing the top of your neck as his palm pressed onto your bulge too. You smiled when you heard the uncontrollable coo that fell off his lips.

His children were resting inside and when he wake up during spring, it would be close to the day they finally meet.

He shook his head, looking down at you with the most tender gaze when you serenely allowed yourself to close your eyes again now against his chest. His tail was snugly around your hips, hooking over your waist and around your belly.

Daishou Suguru had decided that he would try to stay awake for just a little longer when your soft breaths filled his ears, your stomach raising together with your chest with each exhale.

Winter or spring, he would give his life for yours, and now for his children in your stomach too.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu smut #daishou x reader #daishou imagines #daishou imagine #daishou smut

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thenextchapter22 · 3 years

Text

Mail Order... Kitten Girl

Part 8: Aw Rats

Description: Satan accidentally orders a special type of ‘cat’ online after having a few too many drinks…

Tags: Pet Play, Cat Hybrids, Fluff, Comfort, Explicit Sexual Content, Tail Fucking

Pairing(s): Reader/Everyone (but Luke)

Link to my AO3: Click Here

In this chapter: Kitten and Barbatos spend time together!

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven

Authors Note: HAPPY BIRTHDAY BARBATOS!! This one is for you :))

+++++ MINORS DNI +++++

It was an early morning on a weekday. You woke up slowly, snuggling into the demon body beside you in bed. Sleeping in Belphie’s room was always your top favorite spots to get a great nights sleep. Surrounded in his bed with all his blankets and pillows he stacked up plus his warm arms around you, that was the best.

You were shaken out of the slumber by Beel shaking his twin’s arm, saying, “Belphie, Kitten, get up and eat.”

Belphie groaned, squeezing your body to him, nuzzling the back of your neck with his heated breath caressing you. “Mmmm... ‘s early, Beel. Later...”

The temptation to stay was strong, but your stomach gurgled and you decided to get up.

Wiggling in Belphie’s strong hold until you faced him instead of the wall, he opened one eye just enough to stare at you questionably. “Cuddle me later?” you said through a yawn.

Your youngest demon Master sighed, but gave you one final squeeze around your waist, lingering just above your bottom with his fingers, and kissed you gently. “Fine... Go on,” he said, and opened his arms to free you.

Beel helped you climb over him. As soon as you were out of the bed, Belphie went right back to sleep.

With a smiling sigh, Beel shook his head. “C’mon, Kitten. I’ve made one of your favorites for breakfast so let’s get you dressed.”

You picked at the thin silk short set you had worn to bed. Sleeping with any of them, you liked to wear little to almost nothing. Firstly, because a lot of them ran hot, and secondly so that you could feel their bodies closer to you. That extra touch made your body feel good.

You sat on Beel’s bed, waiting for him to pick out an outfit for you. Almost all of your Master’s liked to dress you. And because you usually stayed in one of their rooms, sometimes a different demon each night so it was fair—they liked to fight a lot about that—they had clothes ready for the next day.

The redheaded demon chose a soft pair of leggings and a short-sleeved scoop neck shirt, also soft, probably fleece . You smiled at the plain underwear he helped you slip on. Asmo , Lucifer, and Satan all liked to give you lace undies and bras, but the others preferred comfort for you. Either way you didn’t mind, they were your owners after all and you liked them dressing you up. The fun of it was seeing the different styles.

After you were clothed, Beel took your hand and smiled. “Let’s go eat.”

You smiled right back and nodded, “Mmhm! ‘m hungry, Master.”

“Me too. I haven't eaten in minutes.”

Giggling, the both of you left Belphie to the room and went to eat.

Breakfast for you was perfect. Waffles soaked in syrup, piled high with berries and whipped cream. Sausages and eggs, too. The table was full, aside from Belphie. Your Masters all ate their weird demon foods. The day was looking to be a great one!

Once your belly was full, that was when your morning turned from sweet to just plain sour.

The worst news was given to you, and in anger you lashed out.

Which was why now, you sat dejectedly on the couch, arms crossed and tail swishing across your lap, the tip fuzzed out. You poked at your collar that was almost forced on you, a black leather collar that wasn’t uncomfortable but not your favorite, thick and ugly. A long leash was attached to it, and on the other end was Lucifer holding it. Usually you liked the leash, but not when it was a punishment.

Everyone was in the common room now, even Belphie who had gotten up after hearing the news. They either stood around you or sat on the furniture, but they all were looking at you with small smiles or smirks.

You were not amused. If you were an actual cat, your fur would be stuck up like the tip of your tail was.

The bad news that caused this problem... your Masters were leaving for the whole day to a RAD Student Council member only meeting that Lord Diavolo was holding.

You hated being alone. But because Barbatos was staying behind to make a feast for when they came back, he had volunteered to watch you.

When Lucifer went on and explained he was going to take you to Lord Diavolo’s castle for the hand off of yourself to the demon butler, you obviously did not want to go or for them to go and as such you had clawed at him, and thus the leash.

You didn’t draw blood, Lucifer was too fast for that, but the reaction was enough to be punished.

Huffing in your seat, you refused to not look angry. They were leaving you... again!

Lucifer sighed, and patted the top of your head a few times. “Bad kitty’s get punished, my dear,” he said matter of fact.

Your nose twitched. “I know...”

“You promise to behave for Barbatos?” Satan asked.

You nodded. “Yes, Master...”

“Don’t look so upset, it will only be for a few hours...”

“Why can’t I just be at home alone?” you asked, glancing at them all with wide eyes.

Asmo cooed. “Last time Simeon took too long, kitty cat, and you were upset with us. We’re just looking after you.”

You pouted.

Beel smiled. “Barbatos is excited to see you. And he said he wants you to taste test some of his bakes today. I’m jealous.” He drooled.

Your ears perked up. “R-really?” You licked your lips. Barbatos was the best baker you knew. His cakes and pies and basically everything he made was yummy.

“Kitten looks happy now!” Mammon said with a grin.

Satan agreed, “She looks like the cat who got the cream.”

Asmo giggled. “She probably will, too, and I mean to say Barbatos’~”

The others groaned or chuckled. You didn’t know what that meant, but you did love cream.

“We’re having a big feast later at Lord Diavolo’s castle, so be sure not to eat too much,” Lucifer said, and then announced it was time to go.

You stood as Lucifer started for the front door, the leash taught. Your Masters all said their respective goodbyes and ‘I love you’s’ and it made you very happy inside. You would miss them so much.

Maybe it was better to not be alone, so you wouldn’t be so sad and think about them until they came home.

Turning on your heel before the front door, you smiled. “I love you, too, my Masters.” And you meant that, truly.

They all cooed, or grinned, and you waved goodbye.

It was only for the day, right?

_+_

The walk to Lord Diavolo’s wasn't too long. Barbatos let you inside the main entrance where you waited to be handed off like a true pet.

“Welcome, Lucifer, Kitten. We are going to have a good time together today, hm?” the demon butler smiled at you kindly.

You peeked at him from behind Lucifer and nodded once. Still, something inside of you was a little peeved.

“I trust you will be good?” Lucifer asked you, a stern look in his red eyes.

“Yes, Master, I'll be good,” you said.

Lucifer handed the leash to Barbatos, who took it without a single question. You wondered if Lucifer told him what happened and why you had the leash at all.

“She will be well looked after, Lucifer.”

Lucifer nodded. He gave you a single kiss on your forehead. “Behave, Kitten,” he said, and then he was gone out the door. You watched as he transformed into his demon form and flew off, majestic and sexy. You did love his wings; they were so soft.

“Kitten? Let’s go.” Barbatos smiled at you again, and gestured with his hand for you to go ahead and step further in the Castle.

You frowned, but did, and you found yourself in the kitchen after a little bit of walking.

The room was a far cry from the House of Lamentation’s kitchen. First it was much larger, higher ceilings, and had several ovens and even more cooking equipment. There were tons of cabinets and a large black table off to the side. The floors were nicer on your shoes, less chance of tripping on wood floors than badly lain cement blocks.

While you glanced around, you felt a tug on your leash and a click, and Barbatos was hanging your leash on a hook on the wall before you knew what happened.

“Wha-?”

“It will be easier for the both of us. I won’t say anything if you won’t?”

You giggled. The collar was still on, but that was fine by you. “Okay!”

“Perfect. Over this way please.” He led you to a counter, and there was a ton of ingredients out. They smelled sweet, salty, bitter. Some of them looked good, others odd colored or shaped, but still had a good aroma. “Today you can help me prepare the meal for their return.”

Your ears fell. “I can’t cook...”

"That's not a problem. You have two hands, and so you can mix. And taste test for me as well.”

Now that you could do with great pleasure. “Yes, I want to help!”

He chuckled. “I assumed so. We are only preparing desserts now; I will finish the rest of the meal later so it's fresh. Let’s begin, shall we?”

Baking with Barbatos was fun. You got to eat so many tasty things. He let you lick the spoon with the frosting, and gave you little chocolate chips. Mixing dry ingredients for him was harder than it looked and you got some flour on yourself, but that was why you had the apron on.

Although, it was strange that he already had the perfect one for you. It certainly was not for one of the demon brothers or Diavolo (right?).

After cooking for a long time, eating and mixing and opening and closing the ovens, setting all the pretty treats under domes on counters or in the fridge, you were totally exhausted. All the hard work and eating had really wore you out.

You yawned a few times, and rubbed at your eyes.

“Is it time for a cat nap?” he teased.

“Barb, I’m tired.” You yawned again.

He softly laughed. “All right. Come with me, Kitten.” He put the palm of his hand on your lower back to lead you out of the kitchen. You were taken around a few doors and small hallways to a wide window with a bed seat cushion, and it faced a garden full of flowers and wildlife.

“So pretty...” you were in awe.

“I thought you might like the view. Rest for a while and I will wake you up once you’ve gotten the proper sleep.”

You curled up on the warm bedding and purred. The sun was shining in the spot, and you could fit yourself perfectly in a ball. “Thank you~”

Barbatos smiled down at you, and pet your head, his hand lingering on your neck to squeeze once. It gave you the shivers. “You’re very welcome, Kitten. Sweet dreams.”

You fell asleep watching the birds flutter around and chirp.

When you woke up it was still sunny, but not directly on you. And you watched the garden for a while, and then you saw it.

A rat, scurrying across the field.

You made a sound and bared your teeth at it.

The window had a latch, and you undid it and crawled out to step into the garden. You were quiet, stealthy, your prey was right there. You caught it in your claws and squeezed until it was dead.

This was the perfect present to say thank you!

Barbatos had not come for you yet, so you set the dead rat on the floor of the room, waiting for Barbatos to come fetch you.

And when he came inside, he froze up, and stared at your gift. “Kitten.”

“Barb~ I got you a gift, it’s right there.” Your tail flickered in happiness, and you grinned a fanged smile at him, proud and excited.

He tensed as he walked around it, but did not pick it up. “Did you touch that thing?” he asked instead.

“Yes, with my claws. I killed it for you!”

“I see...” He held out his arms, and frowned. “Let’s go wash your hands,” he said.

You pouted. “Are you not going to take my present?”

Barbatos’ brows furrowed. “Kitten, I appreciate the gift, however...”

Now you understood, and your eyes watered. “Y-you hate it, don’t you?”

“Not at all, kitty, not at all. I just want to take care of you first.” He grabbed you under your arms and you were taken back to the kitchen, legs wrapped around his waist. You felt like a toddler but the warmth of his body was nice. “You need to clean up before you touch anything else.”

He directed you to stand before the sink and place your hands inside. The water was hot on your hands and you cried out. He apologized, and quickly turned it down, and then poured soap on your hands, helping wash them, getting between your fingers and under your claws.

“Rats carry diseases, and Devildom rats even more. I want you to be more careful.”

You nodded. “Okay, I’m sorry.”

Barbatos gave you a soft smile. “It’s fine. There now, let’s dry them and then we can get back to baking together.”

You dried your hands and frowned down at the tiles. “I just wanted to thank you...”

He cupped your cheek and had you look at him. “I know, but you don’t need to thank me with that,” he said, not unkindly.

Oh, so that’s what he was getting at. Well, your Master’s did not say you couldn’t please Barbatos, and he did take care of you. This was the only other way you knew how to say you were grateful for him feeding you delicious snacks and letting you sleep in the cozy sun spot.

“I can thank you like this,” you said, and knelt down on the floor right in front of him, your face at his crotch.

There was one quick inhaled from the demon butler. His gloved finger lifted your head up for him to stare down at you with his pretty green eyes. There was a slight hue on his cheeks. “You don’t have to thank me at all.”

You licked your lips. “I want to. Please? Can I see your cock and suck it?”

He began thumbing your bottom lip. “If that’s what you want, I wouldn’t say no.” Then he made a concerned face. “Do you want something for your knees?”

You nodded, glad Barbatos was such a kind demon. “Please...” and he somehow had a throw pillow in his hands, and you lifted one knee at a time to get situated. “Thank you.”

“It’s no trouble.”

Quickly you helped him out of his pants, slipping them to the floor. As you did his hand caressed the top of your head, and you felt his dark gaze on you, watching every move you made. As his pants dropped to the floor, he stepped out of them, kicking them away. The mess was so unlike the butler from what you had seen.

Now he was just in his underwear, a silk dark green pair that outlined his cock and balls. You nuzzled his clothed dick. “Smells good, Barby.”

“Mmm, you like the smell of cock, Kitten?”

You nodded. “Yesss-”

His hand went to your hair at the back of your head to lightly tug. The pain mixed with his scent urged you on, and you had his boxers pulled down, and he was quicker in stepping out of those. His cock out inches from your mouth, half hard. Before you sucked it, you grabbed it to stroke it to life. You licked the tip once, he gasped. Then you swallowed him down and peeked up at him with a certain look, unmoving. Waiting for him to do something.

He got the idea and smiled. “Do you want me to use your mouth?”

You hummed, hopeful he understood it meant yes. And he understood because he began using your mouth. Filling it with his slicked head, hitting your tongue and roof of your mouth. Your lips were swelling up, and you suckled and slurped at his cock.

Clawed hands went to his waist, holding him steady as his fingers clutched your hair to do the same. The pain and scent surrounding you had your pussy wetting up, soaking your undies. But this was for him, about Barbatos’ pleasure. And a Kitten could please their Master, or their Master’s friends, and you would do a good job of it, too.

Breathing through your nose, you kept a firm hold on his hips, and your tail helped by wrapping around his thigh once to squeeze. His legs were bare, strong looking. You looked up at him, and met his dark eyes, flecks of black creeping in to those slate green iris’. It was sexy and you moaned.

“Ahh, Kitten,” he moaned. His hand not at your hair went to touch your tail, wrapped around a part of it and stroked like you had done to his dick. “Such a soft tail."

You moaned louder, vibrating around his cock, tonguing the underside with your flattened muscle, flexing. He tasted tangy and filled your mouth perfectly, and a little precum trickled onto your taste buds.

The demon butler tensed and grunted out a warning before he came in your mouth, and only then did you let him go. You held his spent cum in your mouth on your tongue, and showed it to him before swallowing. It was bitter, but you had worse.

“Such a naughty thing,” he commented, and pet your hair from your cheeks.

He smiled, and in his eyes was something new you hadn’t seen. He put his clothes back to right, and before you could react, he had you in his arms and then deposited you on the long kitchen table. The throw pillow was shoved under your body to lift you up at your lower half, and it helped keep your tail from being squished. But you were confused.

“Barb-”

“Hush now.” He stood at your feet, a demonic grin truly. “I shall return the favor,” he whispered. Barbatos’ appearance shifted, and he was in his demon form, his twin-tipped tails flickering behind him, his bat-like horns gleaming in the kitchen light.

His hands torn down your pants to your ankles, and you let him, him taking off your shoes next to leave you in socks and your top. Then you were spread open, panties glistening, socked feet flat on the table. He had you bend your legs so he could grasp your knees to keep you like that, but your pants hugged at your ankles like restraints.

Those eyes of his were basically neon green they were glowing, and he stared at your clothed core, and you tightened in response. Could he see the flex of your pussy?

“You got wet from sucking me, hm... How delightful.” His finger went to your waist, tugging under the band, and it snapped apart. He tore your underwear from you and exposed your vagina to the air, the coolness hitting your burning heat, wetness growing.

“Ahh, B-barb-"

His tails were hovering your vagina, twitching, and you leaned your head down to watch. You couldn’t see much past your belly as he lifted you up, but you knew what his intentions were.

You begged for it, “please, inside...”

He did not hesitate. His tail slowly went inside your pussy, thick, slimy, softly scaled. It was bigger than you figured, and you tightened down and wiggled your hips.

He tore his glove off with his teeth, and his bare finger circled your clit, the sparks of pleasure helping the stretch. “It’s okay, you can take it. Be a good kitty.”

You clenched down on him again and he winced for a second, but then his tail slithered deeper and flicked at the tip to hit that spot inside and you saw stars, clutching the table at each end with clawed hands.

“You’re damaging the wood,” he said with a bit of humor, but did nothing to stop you. His finger circled your clit faster and harder, and you were close but still felt like it wasn’t enough.

That was when his second tail spread your cheeks apart to press to your anus, slimy from the wetness leaking from your pussy. You were not ready for that, not now.

You cried, “nnngg, not there, please.” Your own tail swooshed in the air, a nervous twitch, and a warning that you did not like that.

Barbatos kissed your inner thigh, holding your knee wider with one hand as his tail fucked you, sloppy sounds echoing in the room along with your heavy panting. “I know, beautiful thing, I won’t.” He left the tail tip there, slipping over your hole to join the other at your pussy, pressing against its twin. “You can take two, can you not?”

You tensed and sobbed. “P-please,” you desperately wanted to be torn open.

He grinned, sharp teeth, and shoved his second tail in along with the other. You arched your back and tossed your head to the side and sobbed, burning and intense pleasure/pain encompassing you. “Ahhhgg~”

The pace he set was fast and rough, the double tails slipping in and out and scrapping at the best parts of you, no time to adjust. “You’re so sweet, yet so naughty. I want to feel your pussy on my cock someday.”

“Uhh, yes, yes, want that-”

“Hm, I know you do.”

He was so himself like this. Barbatos was commanding and sure in his movements, and it was perfection. His head went between your legs and his mouth found your clit and licked and kissed wet and sloppily. You wished you could watch as he did, but your position only let you see his head bobbing, and his tail motioning in and out between your thighs.

He kept his mouth on your clit, swishing his tongue back and forth. “Purr for me, kitty,” he pulled back to say, and then with insane speed he fucked you with his serpent tails and licked you, like a vibrator toy for your clit.

The heat was reaching your belly in a boiling point now. Your body was hot, tense, and your toes curled, and then with an arched back, your belly tightened up and you were finished. “Cumming, Barb, cummiinnnnggg~” you exclaimed, spurting all over.

It lasted a few moments, but felt like longer. You kept your eyes shut and felt the excess amount of your own juices dripping out. The sparks went with the beat of your heart as you calmed down, almost like an exposed wire feeling every single thing. Your shirt was sweaty. Your throat sore, from both screaming your pleasure and holding some back. There was a little bit of tears drying on your cheeks.

When you did open your eyes, Barbatos was hovering over your head, smiling that gentle smile, this time it reached his kind eyes. “So pretty for me,” Barbatos murmured, kissing your cheek. “I need to clean you up now.”

You hummed, shutting your eyes as fireworks popped up in your vision. “Mmm, clean up,” you copied.

He chuckled, and lifted you up in his arms, and you whined but allowed it. “Come on kitty, you can have another nap after.”

You sighed. “Love naps.”

“I gathered that. You may be a second Belphegor and we just don’t know it.”

You giggled. “Mmmm.” What a silly thing to say.

_+_

“She looks exhausted,” Lucifer commented. He had a slight smirk in his eyes and on his lips, but not enough for the average person to see.

Barbatos shared a similar look. “Oh yes, we had an eventful evening, didn’t we?” You flushed red, ignoring the question, and he went on, holding out a few containers. “Here. To take home with you. The feast will begin in a few hours, but I know Beel will like to have some extras.” Barbatos handed you the boxes. “Thank you for all your help today, Kitten. Anytime you want to stop by, feel free.” The green of his eyes shone, mischievous.

You held in the whine, because you did want to visit again. But the teasing was too much and you were exhausted mentally and physically. You didn’t even want to be standing right then.

You looked at Lucifer and asked, “Master, can we go home now?”

“Yes, we can.” He took the leash from Barbatos and you both left Lord Diavolo’s castle for the House of Lamentation.

And if Lucifer noticed the limp in your walk, he said nothing on it.

Thankfully you were not in trouble. Your Masters, it seemed, did not care if you shared yourself. But you had to wonder the limitations of that... you’d ask another time.

So, you went home to rest before the feast, but in the end you did not go. You actually stayed behind with Levi who had plans to be online that night (Diavolo played video games, you heard, so he excused the Envy demon).

Snuggled up with him on the beanbag you lazily watched him play, occasionally getting soft pets between battles. It was boring to just watch, but you had enough excitement. This was a perfect way to end a sweet day.

#obey me #obey me fanfic #fanfiction #reader fanfiction #female reader #cat hybrid #hybrids #hybrid reader #shall we date #shall we date obey me #obey me reader x barbatos #reader x barbatos #mail order kitten girl #my fics #ao3 link

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cherryblossomtease · 3 years

Text

Chapter 12

18 + only

warnings and summary - Masterlist

Warnings: 18+ for explicit sexual content: depictions of sub/dom lifestyle and lead up to m/m sexual relationship. If it’s not your thing please keep scrolling. Thank you!

Is there a word for this feeling? The one that happens when you wake up not knowing when or where you are…

Is it day, is it night? Is this my bed? Is this even a bed? Am I home and if not, how far away am I? So many questions go tumbling around in your head so quickly that you just have to shut your eyes against the bizarre sensation. It’s one of the few that’s happened to absolutely everyone at some point. And as you lie there in bed —yes, this is definitely a bed— you think, no way the Germans don’t have a word for this strange phenomenon.

Inhaling slowly, exhaling even slower, you finally feel it come rushing back to you so that by the time you’ve filled your lungs with a nice deep breath of salty ocean air, the smile that raises your cheeks turns into a silent laugh as you roll onto your side, curling up tight, sliding your hand across the empty expanse of the cool bedsheets, lightly perfumed by the fading scent of his cologne which makes you feel warm all over.

You open your eyes, blinking, focusing, letting the view refresh the last of the memories.

You should have known, you think laying your hand on the pillow where he’d been. You stroke the high thread count like you did his hair and his face as he’d looked into your eyes and your racing hearts settled. How many unnecessary tears were shed for him? How much time was spent worrying that you might never see the man again when all you had to do was trust that no prison could keep Helmut Zemo locked away for long, and you laugh because a year must be a record for shortest maximum security prison stays.

Now, while escaping from the supposedly inescapable is impressive, you can’t begin to fathom how he’s done it and you’re more than happy to keep it that way which is probably for the best as Zemo’s made it pretty clear he doesn’t want you in possession of said knowledge for your own safety. The less you know at this uncertain stage in the game the better. You’re physically far from government detection or any others lookin to recapture the Baron for that matter, still, nothing is ever fully guaranteed.

Luckily it’s hard to feel anything other than at peace as you smile and lazily roll onto your back, stretching your arms over your head before looking down the length of the king sized bed to find the source of light warming your bare skin.

Oh, you smile That’s right.

The matching circular windows are very large and offer views of wild blue water as far as the eye can see. It is the very definition of tranquility.

And just off to the side is a glass door that opens to a large balcony just calling your name. You'll spend too much time out there soon enough you think, imagining falling asleep with a good book and a drink. After all, you’ve got two weeks before you reach France and then it's a quick flight to you final destination of Villefranche-Sur-Mer, according to Zemo.

Two incredible weeks— and to think you’d nearly dismissed that text this morning as nothing but annoying spam.

Luckily something about it brought you back after you'd poured cereal and milk into your bowl. You’d sat at the kitchen counter unable to look away from that single message sent from an unknown number, your breakfast all but forgotten.

It was short and to the point and it reminded you of the kind Zemo used to send what felt like a lifetime ago when the instructions were no more than a time but now there was the added bonus of a location and you were no longer the sole recipient.

The sound of Bucky charging down the hall of his apartment that had become just as much yours since Zemo went away answered the question before it could be asked.

“You got it too didn’t you?” You’d asked him looking up.

Bucky stood in the doorway, hair wet and slicked back from his shower, gripping the towel he’d quickly tossed around his waist and smelling like your body wash which he liked to snag when he ran out of his own. You didn’t mind so much but it was confusing when you were a tangle of arms and legs and other parts that smelled the same…

“It’s a trick. It’s gotta be.” He’d insisted, to which you’d rolled your eyes and considered throwing your phone at his head for saying something so ridiculous. Why would Zemo play a game so cruel. “He’s in the raft” He said your name with a finality that made you reconsider, but when you looked down at your phone again, you knew it wasn’t true.

This was him. This was Zemo.

“Go get dressed. I really think something’s happened.” You’d told him. He’d stood there for a second longer, his face unreadable. But he did turn and disappear down the hall, wet footprints on the hard wood left behind.

You must have been shaking as you waited. You’d been so anxious and your head a mess of worry and hope and fear and hesitation but so much excitement.

By the time Bucky came back dressed in sweats and a t-shirt which bothered you because you wanted him dressed to go, you were completely convinced you’d hear a knock at the door and find the Baron on the other side, you’d always been good at working yourself up into a frenzy.

Bucky had been the complete opposite. You can still see him; a gloomy hundred year old kill-joy.

You remember thinking he might have been a worried at first. A little jealous or scared maybe? Like he’d gotten too used to your life and the return of the man responsible for what you had together could also be the one to see it come to an end which was just silly. James was and would always will be your best friend, but your friendship had long since proven to be more than late night Netflix binging and ordering takeout.

In fact the night before the text, he’d come in long after you’d gone to bed. He’d been gone for nearly two weeks on some grand mission with Sam —off to save the world no doubt.

You were dreaming when he’d slipped in behind you and pulled you close, waking you with the warmth of those perfect lips so soft and full, the touch of his kiss leaving a trail of heat down your shoulder and back, only to flip you over once you were half awake with the strength of that wonderfully dangerous arm. As he pulled your shorts down and found you in the dark, you happily gave in, welcoming him home as only you could, and never once did either of you expect that your unconventional but comfortable life would come to such an abrupt end.

But no, he wasn’t jealous. You knew it because there was something sort of sweet in the look of shock on his face that gave you pause in asking why he was reacting this way.

That, was the look of man conflicted.

As you’d begun cleaning the apartment —certain you’d be leaving it soon— you’d paused and studied him sitting on the couch, alone with his thoughts, phone held in his hand like he’d never put it down. You knew Bucky well enough to know the basics of what he must have been thinking.

The Winter Soldier had been trapped in the living prison of his own body for a lifetime. Now Bucky was forever free to make his own choices. You certainly wouldn’t be the one to persuade him into doing anything he didn’t truly want to do. But you also knew that you weren’t alone in missing Zemo; not after what the three of you had shared and certainly not after what the two of them had come so close to starting.

But that poor dear, somewhat clueless man. For someone who was still adjusting to life in the present day after such a strange journey you tried to cut him some slack. He was still torn, still stuck between worlds. Having to question what he knew about his sexuality didn’t seem like a very fair thing to have to add to the mix, but that’s life. Unexpected to say the least.

He could no more deny his draw to Zemo than he could his desire to be a good person. These things were solid facts; He didn’t want to kill anymore and he was absolutely attracted to this man and presumably others, but yes particularly this one.

But now he was worried that giving in to his own happiness might cost him his friendship with people like Sam, and almost certainly his freedom when he’d only just gotten it back. Not because of being bi-sexual, but, because of, well— Helmut Zemo.

As much as you didn’t want to, you could easily understand the conflict.

Once you’d finished cleaning and packing your weekend bag you went back into the living room and made him look at you. “I know you’re worried about Sam and the others. All those super heroes you know. But what sort of friends would they be if they stopped you from living your life the way you want to live it?”

“Good ones if It means living with an escaped criminal.” His retort was so logical. You hate it when he’s right.

“One that you helped escape before right?”

“That was for a reason. This is all Zemo.”

“Did he really deserve to be in there?”

“Do you really want me to answer that question.”

You did not, so you’d stepped away and gave in, just letting him be.

It was frustrating to say the least but Bucky was not allowed to steal your joy, no matter how true it all was. Unfortunately, he was very much tied to that joy.

When you’d rushed back down the hall almost forgetting your tooth brush, he’d finally gotten up and gone into the bedroom but you'd ignored him, not out of anger but because It broke your heart to think you’d be leaving him alone to his own misery. It was the last thing you wanted to do, but if you absolutely had to you would.

Zemo was the man you’d loved long before you met Bucky, you would not put the Baron aside for another person's moral dilemmas, even if might crush your heart. You would leave and send word of where you and Zemo were and hope that he could join you in time but you had to see Helmut, you couldn’t ignore the message.

However, Sargent James Buchanan Barnes could be a real man of surprise when he wanted to be.

As you finished cleaning up, tears in your eyes for what you would be leaving behind, he’d come into the kitchen with his own black duffle bag and tossed it down on the floor.You’d spun around at the sound of it hitting the tile and kept it together but you could have screamed you were so happy.

He gave you that “don’t say anything” look so instead you just flashed a brilliant smile and kissed his cheek which he dismissed as if he didn’t love it, but you saw the way his eyes lit up. He could have hidden it from someone else who hadn’t spent the last year living with him but not you.

“It’s not permanent. I can’t stay no matter where he’s taking us. But, for a little while I think it’ll be all right."

“Of course!” You weren't pressed, you'd just talk him into it later because as of that minute you’d been too elated to care about time.

“So what the hell are these instructions?” You’d asked Bucky in the cab out of the city

“I have an idea.” He said shaking his head a little. He was clearly thinking ‘what have I gotten myself into’ which made you laugh. You could hear Zemo in your head, his answer simply being ‘Trouble’

“Well where are we going?” You’d asked anxious to know more.

“I don’t think we’re staying in New York if that’s what you’re asking.”

You’d quickly looked back at the city, watching the bridges fade behind you, wondering if you’d see them again. There was a strong possibility that it would be a while before you did.

As expected, Bucky knew his stuff. You were definitely leaving the city. The instructions were a time and location as you’d guessed but you hadn’t understood that the second half were coordinates and not for the cab.

When you got out of the very expensive car ride— which you charged to that handy little black credit card that had magically appeared in your mailbox about a year ago (thanks prison daddy)— the two of you stood in what looked like no more than an old shipping yard.

“Come on, I actually know this place. We need to go this way.” Bucky said with his head down and eyes up, his serious face looking every bit the superhero he was when he wasn’t with you. It always made you laugh a little. This was the same guy who also sat around in his underwear watching reality competition shows with you eating ice cream…

“What’s this way?”

“Room.”

Cryptic. They always love being cryptic you’d grumbled following him, feeling on edge as you’d snaked your way through the maze of shipping containers and storage units.

As you came near the water, the rusted out rectangles did in fact clear and the narrow passages opened up giving enough space, or as Bucky had said, ‘room’ for a blacked out helicopter to rise up. It was the sort of midsized military grade machine made for traveling long distance and sitting inside was a pilot-- the sort who deals in silence and cash only transactions.

“What exactly did you tell Sam?” You’d asked once you were in the air with your headset on. “I’m sure you had to tell him something to keep him and anyone else from asking questions.”

“That I finally decided to take a vacation” Bucky’d said, his voice clear in your ears as he glanced at you. He didn't have to ask for you to see that he really didn't want you to make fun of him for it either.

“Ha! And he bought that?”

“I think so. He said it was— a good look for me.” He mocked Sams tone.

You’d laughed rubbing his warm arm and laying your head on his shoulder agreeing with Sam whole heartedly but for very different reasons.

About an hour or more in you’d fallen asleep only to be startled awake by the sound of Bucky’s humorless laughter just in time to see your destination come into view.

“I knew it.” He’d sneered looking through your window.

“Oh my god” You sat up leaning forward peering down at the white oval in the expanse of blue.

“Of course.” The way Bucky could detest Zemo’s opulence would forever amuse you. He’d sat back refusing to look anymore, as if you weren’t about to land anyway.

“It's perfect,” You’d insisted.

“He’s such an asshole” He'd grumbled but you’d caught the little twitch of a smile.

“Shut up Bucky. It’s amazing”

“Its a god damned yacht!” His voice gone high with the absolute offense of it all.

All you could do was laugh.

You lie in bed remembering stepping out of the helicopter, your bags tossed out and the bird in the air so quickly it’s like the pilot was never there.

“Still think this was a good idea?” Bucky’d asked as if anything about this might have changed your mind.

Impressed by the private landing pad on the highest deck but already aware of the delights that were undoubtedly waiting below, you’d just smiled and gave his cheek a pat. “Come on.”

Bucky grabbed both bags and you’d led him down the steps and onto a massive deck of beautiful pale wood lined with low white couches at the far end, blinding in the bold sun. Beneath the overhang was a large wet bar, with glasses already set out and an ice bucket, the neck of a champagne bottle greeting you.

“Please miss. Allow me”

You’d both looked behind you, startled to find the old butler Oeznik coming up from the center stairwell.

Poor thing, you'd nearly toppled him, throwing your arms around his neck but you really did adore that wonderful old man. He’d just laughed and hugged you back welcoming you aboard.

You thanked him but no sooner had he offered had you forgotten all about his hospitality.

Your back had been turned when you heard your name said with the soft accented voice that you had missed, craved and imagined for so many months…

“Helmut.” You will never forget what it felt like to turn and find him.

He stepped from the shadows and into the sun and you can still feel the way you’d bit down on your bottom lip to keep from crying.

Those eyes, that hair, his smile; so subtle and sly. You’d nearly forgotten that you could in fact go to him. He wasn’t just a man made up from your lonely daydreams but flesh and blood and so perfectly made.

It took him drawing his hands from his pants pockets— linen pants of all the casual things— to break the spell.

He’d opened his arms to just the right size for you and there was no holding back then.

What had it felt like? You try to remember now, but it's useless. You can remember him pulling you in as though he couldn’t stand another second without you close. You’d closed your eyes inhaling his scent as he touched your face and hair, his fingers brushing along your neck and shoulders. It’s so lovely and primitive the way touch and smell can become the thing that reunites and reacquaints us. You were like two animals in the wild and you’d gasped at the feel of his face gliding against yours, and his arms so tight around you until he'd pressed his forehead to yours whispering things you couldn’t understand as you held onto his forearms giving in to the thin line of tears that fell from your eyes. It was an unexpected moment of reconnecting. You knew you’d missed him, but this was so much more. You’d felt ready to submit to every command so quickly it honestly surprised you. The warm touch of his face against yours, his breath along your neck and finally his lips meeting your own was and will always be your first experience with what people describe as coming home. And then he’d pulled back, looked you in the eyes and simply said “Hello”

You couldn’t say anything back. You just watched him look past you and saw how his expression changed. You still can’t place it… “James.” The way he said his name. God it was so beautiful. You’d turned in Zemo’s arms and saw the look on Bucky’s face. There were tears in his eyes that you’re not sure he was even aware of.

“Zemo”

“How was the ride?” He’d asked politely.

“Fine.”

The tension was charged. There was unfinished business between them that they would need to work out on their own, but you hoped they could do it quickly.

And then Zemo raised his hand in offering. He had after all sent that text to two people.

Bucky hesitated for longer than he needed to, but when he did come forward and gripped the Baron in what he’d assumed would be no more than a handshake, Zemo smiled and pulled him in. He’d let go to hold Bucky by the back of his head for a moment gazing at his face. “I actually didn't expect you” He said sounding relieved.

Bucky gave in to his own feelings and reached out, gently grabbing Zemo’s waist. “Well Im here.”

“So you are.” He’d said, the pressure of such strong feelings for his soldier bubbling at the surface, desperate to be released. But he just stroked Bucky’s jaw with his thumb and smiled before looking down at you. “And now that you are, let me show you both around.”

Sitting up, you rub your eyes and find your clothes tossed all over the place mixed in with Zemo’s.

As he’d attempted to show you and Bucky the ship and explain your route, his hand would linger on the small of your back. He would find your curves as he talked about the endless amenities the yacht had to offer until neither of you were sure if he was talking about you or the boat. By the time you’d come down to the cabin deck, he’d pulled you close from behind as Bucky went on ahead unaware. Zemo grabbed your hips exhaling against your ear and you’re fairly certain it was the moan you let slip when he ever so gently pulled your hair, tilting your head to the side as he whispered something to you in Sokovian that got Bucky’s attention.

“James, please help yourself to anything at all. There are more comfortable clothes in the room here. If you’d like, Oeznik can help you find whatever you need. But— it has been a year since I’ve seen her.” He’d said his grip on your hair easing a bit as he stroked his fingers down your back. “As I’m sure you understand a year without a woman like this is a year too long.”

There was a tense few seconds between them and you worried you'd been wrong about the jealousy, but Bucky's face relaxed as he looked around Zemo towards the back of the yacht. “Was that a bottle of Longrow scotch I spotted in that other room?”

“Ah.” He seemed impressed with Bucky’s keen eye. “18 years." Zemo smiled.

“Perfect.” Bucky winked and slipped past giving your cheek a quick pinch.

After that you don’t even remember getting into the room. One second you’d been standing in the hall lost in a wash of furious kisses and the next he had you over his shoulder charging down the hall to the master bedroom practically kicking the door in.

He’d sat you down and you’d both gone wild pushing and pulling at your clothes only just breaking away from one another’s lips to actually undress with a few anxious smiles, some excited laughter tossed in until finally you were naked and then….

You hide your face behind your hand now remembering how good it felt, even though it’d been strange to have another man inside of you after so long.

There was no sign of your former lifestyle this time as he’d fucked you so perfectly. This time, desperate as he was, Helmut was gentle. He’d picked you up and held you between the wall and his own body, finding you easily, moaning into the space between you as he watched your face. He seemed so pleased to see you react to his attention as you once had, because yes, he was another man— he was the Baron and no one could ever take his place.

You’d ended up in the bed on your back nearly in tears from the feel of being under him after so long apart. Not until he’d felt you nearing your climax did he slip back into his natural state of dominance and only just enough to make the orgasm stronger as he’d closed his lovely fingers around your throat and looked into your eyes as you came and he’d whispered your name “I love you…"

Thank the stars that man is free, you smile wide now letting the lasting pleasure ripple through your body.

You look up and say it to yourself again letting the truth of him being here and you for that matter ground you. This day has been a whirlwind and until this moment you’ve been flung from one emotional state to the next. This is the first time you’ve been alone to process it and you are thankful, but the moment is short lived because Helmut’s escape was no small feat and you are not the only one ecstatic about his return.

Eyeing the closet across the room you feel a twinge of a different sort. Helmut is a planner, you’re certain there’s nothing but extraordinary outfits just waiting to be worn and you decide very easily that it’s time to get up and celebrate his freedom and address the very sexy, very annoying tension between the two men you love most in all the world before it consumes them both.

#zemo x reader #bucky barns x you #zemo fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #winterbaron #baron zemo #zemo smut #helmut zemo #bucky barnes is so sweet #also grumpy #but mostly the best #but also perfect

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shepard-ram · 3 years

Text

Hello I'm light anon and i bring you the first chapter of an au i started awhile ago with the help of Ender anon (hi love you/p) , the supernatural au named Abnormalities and its very long

Abnormalities

Chapter One - Phasmophobia 2.5k words

:readmore:

“Prove it then.”

Of course, Sap and Dream’s arguments always lead to some sort of challenge. Ever since you met them in middle school, it’s been like that. Sap would say something, Dream would fire back because Sap was clearly wrong in his eyes, and it would spiral from there. Today’s topic of debate: The existence of the paranormal. Specifically, ghosts.

What sparked it? A cheesy horror film you picked out for the monthly movie night. Your stereotypical ghost film with lazy jump scares with bad effects and acting.you only bought it so you four could laugh at it. You Guys laud sprawled on the couch while Sap took up the floor. All was well, Until Sap proclaimed that real ghosts wouldn’t be that shitty. Dream, heavily disagreed that ghosts even existed. George didn’t take a side but you backed Sap up. The world is to weird not to have ghosts in it.

”Oh absolutely.” Sap nodded, agreeing with your assessment.

Dream rolled his eyes “Sure, sure, just how are you going to prove me wrong? There isn’t a ‘haunted building’ anywhere in town.”

At that moment George decided to speak up “What about the old willbeck farm?, the one a couple miles out of town. I always heard it was haunted by a kid or something.”

“That stupid place? Those were just stories are parents told us to keep us from trespassing.”

You shrugged. “It’s a start.”

Next thing you know, you and sap blew your paychecks on ghost hunting equipment. You ordered the basics, an EMF meter, a good camera, a thermometer, you even bought a ‘Spirit box’ and some smudge sticks, all too spite Dream who complained that you were being scammed.

You both ended up begging George to use his car to load up your equipment as he was the only one to have a large enough car for your equipment. He relented after a day of relentless begging.

The Willbeck farm was a 40 minute drive from your home, which left a lot of room for discussion.

“You three are idiots.”

You leaned forward to poke your head over the passenger seat. “You didn’t have to come, you know. You could have stayed back and do boring things like dressing up patches or something.”

He turned his head with narrowed eyes. “And make sure you guys didn’t fake your ‘proof?’ Not a chance.”

You laugh. “You’ll be the first one we feed to the ghosts.”

You bickered back and forth until George announced that they had finally made it. Not even seconds after he pulled into the clearing in front of the property, you and Sap practically kept out of the car and rushed to the trunk to get your gear. After distributing equipment amounts your group you took your first look at the house

The Farmhouse was much larger than you remembered reading about. It was a huge two story red building with a faded white trim. The word around it looked like it had been rotting for years and it definitely smelt like rot. AMany of the windows were broken in, and the glass was a gross brown color. The roof had some holes in it and the gutters had been ripped from the roof and laid scattered around the outside. A large barn was off to the side and had the same kind of wear to it. The entire property was surrounded by a torn up wire fencing, which had a lot of crows perched, eyeing you intensely. The Erie feeling the house gave off was intensified by the soft sound of the wind and the loud crow caws.

If houses had a criteria to be haunted, this one checked off all the boxes

Sap let out a low whistle before lightly nudging your arm “Dude, this place makes your home look tiny!”

You scoffed at that. Sure your rented home was small, but was cheap enough to pay for while you worked your way through community college. A one bedroom, one bath, a combined kitchen/living space, all on top of a double garage was all you needed.

It was a slow walk to the porch, all of you hesitant to actually set foot in the run down building. The steps creaked under you, and the wooden boards sunk slightly. You were at the head of the group, so you were the first one inside, taking a couple steps in the large foyer. It was full of outdated furniture, something you’d see out of the early 90’s. A large staircase sat to the left, hugging the wall as it pushed into the upstairs. There was a door to your right, leading into what you believe was the kitchen.

You held the camera up and you got a good shot of the room, if there were no ghosts you’d at least have some cool photos.

The four of you spread out into the room observing every corner of it. Sapnap was the one armed with the EMF reader. He waved the hand held device trying to get something, anything to read. He did manage to get one, honing onto a stuffed cow that was nestled into the couch.

It was dusty, like everything else in the room. Otherwise it was in semi good condition. It was... cute. Too cute to just be sitting in this old farmhouse for the rest of time. Dream had other opinions.

“That means nothing. It’s just a cow.”

To be fair, it was the first time either of you had used this kind of equipment. You decided to put it in your bag, hoping to study it later. It could be a fluke, but you guys couldn’t bow down now! The hunt has only just begun.

Every room on the first floor was subject to an EMF and Temperature checks. Dream and George fucked around while you and Sap scanned for anything that could be more than a fluke, the only thing that could be found was in the kitchen. A small carved statue of a crow.

It gave off the same readings as the cow plush, so perhaps it wasn’t a fluke. You found it sitting on the open windowsill, it was so life-like you almost mistake it for a living crow. Something was telling you that it was probably the oldest thing in the house. You gently placed it in your bag with the cow, another piece to your growing collection.

You took a moment to glance out the window. There were way too many crows sitting on the wire fence to be normal. It was the beginning of summer, so crows even migrate?

With the first floor cleared, you lead the charge upstairs. The floor boards only got louder with every step. You quietly asked whatever prime deity was watching that neither of your group would fall through the floor. The whole house felt unstable.

The top of the stairs lead you to a Hallway. It was small and only had two doors and at the end of it stood a large magnificent bookshelf.

You took the first door on the left accompanied by George while Sap and Dream opted to poke around in the hallway, formally splitting the group for the first time.

The room wasn’t very Large, nor could you tell what it was supposed to be used for as pretty much everything was covered with sheets of some kind. There were a couple of uncovered boxes laying on top of things, so it wasn’t completely boring. A couple of minutes of scavenging later, George called for your attention.

“Look at this” George presented you a beautiful lute from one of the few uncovered boxes. It was crafted out of a dark wood and had what you thought was engravings of fish along the sides. How old was this thing? Was it even usable?

“Let me see!” You asked, setting down the camera before making a grabby motion towards the lute, which was met with a questioning look from the Brit. “I want to see if it’s in tune.”

He decided that it was a good enough answer before handing over the old thing. You strummed the strings, and it sounded surprisingly good, despite the cloud of dust that came off it. You paused for a brief moment before playing a quick melody, just a song you played back in middle school for a recital. You hummed along until yelps from outside and many thumps.

You quickly set the Lute down and follow George out the door, fearing that something had gotten your two friends. However, instead of a gory mess, you saw Dream standing holding a book, while a whole pile of them at his feet, a few inches away from the bookshelf.

“The shelves just collapsed on themselves.” He quietly said. The look on his face was puzzled, like he was still trying to figure out what had happened.

“Or maybe,” Sap started. “The ghost doesn’t like you touching his stuff.”

“I’m keeping it then, the ghost doesn’t need it.”

“What’s the title of it?” You asked as you fake over to view the damage. Dream opened the book and flipped through it.

“It’s old, There isn’t a title nor is it in English, old English I think.”

What was such an old book doing in a relatively modern house? You shake the thought away and motioned for Dream to give it to you. “I’ll hold onto it, I want to see if I can get it translated.” Another treasure for your growing collection.

You turned back to check on George, he wasn’t next to you, instead he was messing with the final door, seeming to unjam the lock and push into the room. You decided to grab the lute and take it as a keepsake.

Picking it up again made your head feel... loud. You couldn’t tell which thoughts were yours and which were intruding. A pair of eyes were watching you somehow but the room was empty. Panic rose in your chest, your heart was beating so so loud. A cold hand touched your shoulders, yet you couldn’t tell if it meant you harm or not.

“Hey... are you okay?”

And it stopped. Everything was clear again. You turned your head to look back seeing Sap poke his head through the door. “You’ve been standing here for a while.”

You nod, “Yeah yeah... we should- we should stop splitting up.”

You’d only find out later that the Lute has the same effects that the other two objects did.

The house search was a bit of a bust. The only ‘Supernatural’ experience you had was the EMF meter going off and the strange experience with the lute which you opted not to tell your friends about, writing off as the Erie nature of the house getting to you.

Finding nothing else interesting, you took one last look at the entrance room before stepping out. You feel a weird sense of longing, something pulling at you not to go. You tried to shake off the feeling and you walked back to the car, just to put all your goodies away in the trunk.

All that was left on your to-do list was to check the outside area and the barn. Being the person that you are, you went straight to the barn. They boys could handle the rest of the property alone. alone The building had no doors you waltzed right though the entryway. Despite never actually being in a barn, it looked right to you.

It was devoid of any livestock, but there was Hay everywhere. Light shined through the holes in the ceiling, making the room clear enough. The soft blue liquid that was spread across the hay-

Wait. What?

Doing a second take revealed that the whole barn has some weird blue goo smeared everywhere. It looked too Fresh to be painted, it looked wet. There didn’t seem to be a set trail, just pools of it. You found most of it by a ladder that led up to a new section of the barn.

The blue substance was dripping from the loft of the barn.

It had to be.

And you were right! Sort of. Finally dragging yourself up the old latter not really minding the blue that now stained your clothes, you found the source.

He was standing- floating?- there, as if waiting for someone. The man was tall, taller than you or any of their friends, absolutely towering over you. His entire pallet was muted, his skin was fucking Grey. His attire was strange too. Something out of a renaissance fair. What was the strangest was that he was translucent and bleeding? Out of a cut on his chest. That blue substance oozing out of his stomach onto the floor boards.

He smiled.

“You found me, little songbird.”

The temperature drop had you shivering, but that also could have been from the absolute terror of seeing a real ghost.

That loud feeling returned in full force, directing your attention onto him.. You had to go. But it was like you were frozen place. He moved to cup your face, cooing as he looked you over.

“It’s not polite to touch things that aren’t yours, yet you handle them with so much care... I don’t mind.”

He wasn’t acting out of malice, thank prime, but It didn’t make it any less uncomfortable. He was too close.

“.... pretty songbird. My pretty songbird.”

A beat past before you could hear your friends calling for you. Your head cleared for a moment so you took it and ran. Practically flying down the ladder and hurting yourself in the fall. Ignoring the pain you booked it to the car right past Dream and Sap, who were standing by the entrance to the barn.

“We- We have to go. Now. Please we need to... to...” you couldn’t really tell what you were saying, everything was moving too fast. Great Prime, that was a real ghost. You- You were talking to a ghost. A Ghost called you a Song bird.

A Ghost.

That ended your hunt right there and then. You weren’t in a fit state to keep going. Especially not when you’re covered in... whatever this blue stuff is. You’d come to find later that you had a blue hand print on your face, right where the man had cradled your face.

You’re so out of it, you don’t realize when your friends are guiding you up the stairs to your home. One of them says something about leaving the loot in your garage, but you don’t really care. This is a future problem. You give a small thank you and a swift goodbye before passing out the second you feel your pillow under you.

So deep in sleep you don’t realize that your tiny home has a few new residents wandering about.

Or the fact that one of them watched over you as you slept

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I AM SIMPLY ASHAMED OF HOW LONG IVE BEEN PUTTING THIS OFF IT WAS A CRINE TO NOT LET Y'ALL SEE THIS EARLIER. LIGHT YOU'VE DONE A FANTASTIC JOB AAUAUGGG

#submission #tw. yandere #c: dream #c: george #c: sapnap #c: wilbur #💡 anon

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