#violent thoughts tw | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

legendreign-archived · 10 months

Text

I Want No Traces of Gabriele

Note: This drabble was inspired by scenes of the manhwa, Black Winter. Gabriela is my interpretation of Saya and Diva’s aunt who has silver hair and red eyes while Gabriele is my interpretation of Saya and Diva’s mother who is the Blue Chiropteran Queen. Angela and Angelina are Saya and Diva’s cousins. Lunar Bat Immortal is the archaic term for Chiropterans. Personal blogs do not reblog!

Gabriela could see her sister’s body falling into an avalanche of ice and she recalled that those infants within Gabriele’s belly would never come into fruition. Good. She needed no reminders of the existence of the woman who had once been her best friend and ultimately betrayed her into turning into a mermaid forever. Just as she thought so, she could see an image of children who resembled her and Gabriele, who resembled her daughters, Angela and Angelina, but the child who possessed the red eyes had reddish-brown eyes instead. And instead of possessing metallic hair colors like she and her other self and her children, they had hair as black as the night like her mother and aunt.

Gabriela gasped which released air bubbles into the sea. She sweated as she panted. Why did she have such a strange dream now? She had made peace with her life as a mermaid. She had settled down with the sea king of the North Atlantic and twin daughters with him. She swam to the room where her daughters slept peacefully. They would not betray one another like Gabriele did with her. They would be happy together like their grandmother and great aunt were.

Because her mother disowned her a long time ago, they only had each other, which was good enough. So why did her strange dream disturb her so much? She decided to visit a sea witch to consult with her about the strange dream. She had learned long ago that her silver hair would protect her from any wicked magic sea witches possessed. She gathered a small sack and filled it with some treasures since sea witches wouldn’t grant her wish for free.

After she entered the cave where a sea witch dwelled, she explained that she had a strange dream about her nieces and said “I know it’s foolish, there’s no way those girls would survive without any blood. They must’ve perished a long time along with their mother, but I can’t get that dream out of my mind.” She shook her head.

The sea witch held out her hand for the sack in her hand. “What you hold in your hand should be enough for my services, Your Majesty.”

Gabriela frowned as she handed over the sack.

The sea witch commented as she began gazing into her crystal ball and a vision of Gabriela when she first visited a different sea witch many years ago emerged. She laughed. “I can see this is not the first time you’ve consulted with one of my kind. …What would his Majesty think if he knew you left his bedside to meet with me?”

Gabriela jutted out her chin. “He knows of my past. I would simply tell him this is an extremely important matter to me that forced me into this position. I hope after tonight, I will never have to consult with you sea witches again.”

The sea witch let out an annoying cackle. “So candid, Your Majesty. In fact…” The image in the crystal ball changed into that of a Lunar Bat Immortal female. She had short black hair and resembled those who possessed red eyes, but she had reddish-brown eyes, just like in her dream and the silver-haired woman could feel her heart sink.

“Your niece is just as candid as you are. Just as most ladies who bear eyes of red in your kind do.”

The image changed once more to reveal the former’s girl double but instead of having short hair, her hair reached her buttocks, her skin was pale instead of sun kissed, and her eyes were blue like those of her mother… Whereas Gabriela had slightly clenched her teeth at the sight of her first niece, her mouth pouted even more at the sight of her late sister’s double.

“History is repeating. The fate of your nieces resembles that of you and your former twin. Would you like to hear about it?”

Gabriela smirked. “Is that so?”

~Later~

Apparently, a human man named Joel and his cousin discovered her sister’s remains and their meddling led to her nieces’ existence. Much like how Gabriele had betrayed her out of envy for her freedom, Diva had betrayed Saya and Saya was the twin chosen by Joel to live a free life. Saya wanted her revenge on her blue twin and had to kill Diva for the sake of mankind. Had it not been for the fact Saya was her niece, she would’ve empathized with her more. Gabriele’s eldest daughter was also being used by the humans as their war weapon against her youngest daughter. A tragic yet ironically suitable fate for those girls.

She was the one who had killed Gabriele and it was up to her to kill Gabriele’s daughters and put them out of their misery. The sea witch asked her to get her husband’s trident so she could regain her legs for this task. Gabriela went a step further and requested that the sea witch make her a trinket that could allow her to regain her legs when needed. That way, she would never have to stoop as low as to visit a sea witch again. The sea witch complied and made her a ruby necklace that could enable her to regain her legs when she wished using the magic of her husband’s trident.

As most witches, including the one who condemned Gabriela into her current fate of being a mermaid, were infamous for, they thrived on the thought of the misery of others and so, the sea witch the silver-haired queen consulted gave her a knife to kill her nieces. But it wasn’t just any knife, but an extremely poisonous one that even fellow Lunar Bat Immortals would have trouble resisting the poison.

How ironic indeed. Many years ago, a consultation with a sea witch led her to wield a knife against her beloved prince. But at the time, she couldn’t bare herself to use it. This time, she would. She wanted no traces of Gabriele and according to the sea witch, there was a curse in her bloodline from many decades ago. From the moment a Lunar Bat Immortal and her sister were treated differently, the curse in their blood would spark, causing them to be pitted against one another, and putting themselves above the other and could no longer live in peace. Her daughters would not benefit from knowing their tainted cousins.

~Somewhere Else~

Her granddaughters were before her, fighting with their swords crossed on an opera stage. Báixuě could hear herself call out with a hand outstretched. “Stop!”

No, not again. The fate that had fallen upon her daughters could not repeat onto her granddaughters. Aside from her sister, her nieces, and Jolie, they were the only next of kin left to her.

Soon after her granddaughters froze to look at her, the light from Saya’s glowing ruby eyes and Diva’s flashing sapphire eyes simultaneously extinguished and their bodies collapsed as blood spilled from where they had been mysteriously impaled.

Báixuě sucked in a breath. Who could’ve done this?! Then the perpetrator stood before her… Silver hair and eyes as ruby red as that of her other self. Her eldest daughter….

She smirked at her as she held up a knife stained with blood.

Báixuě could feel incensed as she witnessed her disowned daughter commit another sin. How dare she have the gall to appear before her again!

She yelled “Gabriela!”

Báixuě jolted up from her hotel bed, sweating and panting.

Méi gui hóng groaned in her sleep but soon sat up to put a comforting hand on her elder twin’s shoulder. “What’s the matter Jiějiě? Did you have a nightmare?”

Báixuě exhaled as Méi gui hóng began stroking her back. “…Yes… But I fear that this is more than an ordinary nightmare…”

After they turned on the lights in the room, Báixuě held up a hand mirror and said “Mirror, mirror in my hand… Please answer my demand…”

Many nights later, after the sea witch directed Gabriela to Saya’s location, the silver-haired woman’s head emerged upon the waves as she recognized the cruise ship that was Red Shield’s headquarters.

The silver-haired woman could see Saya walk by.

She smirked as she thought. “Should I give her a greeting? From one with red eyes to another?”

The elder Red Chiropteran Queen splashed her red tail very hard, loud enough to get her niece’s attention. Saya looked down at the waves. …Was that a mermaid with red eyes and silver-hair? And for some strange reason, the girl’s aura felt like that of other Chiropterans… The mermaid dived underneath the waves.

Saya’s reddish-brown eyes widened the moment the mermaid went underwater. She turned to her chevalier who was walking behind her. “Hagi. Did you see anyone in the water?”

Hagi shook his head. “I wasn’t looking at the sea.”

“Oh.” Saya somberly replied. Was she seeing things?

It would take many nights afterward for the Red Shield cruise ship to be docked into a harbor. Gabriela jumped from the sea, transforming from a mermaid into a regular Lunar Bat Immortal in mid-air, then landed on the ship. Her nude form was partially obscured by her long silver hair. A female Red Shield staff member crossed paths with her and Gabriela’s eyes dangerously glinted red.

~Later~

Saya went out to stare at the sea again by herself as she needed some alone time. She noticed that the floor was strangely wet as if it had been sprayed by the sea but how could that be?

She sensed the presence of the girl she had seen in the sea before but before she could react, a knife was placed close to her neck.

The alto-soprano voice told her in French. “Be a good girl and follow me otherwise I’ll kill your imperial guard and the other humans on the ship if I have to.”

Saya harshly replied in the same language. “I’ll follow you on my own so you can get rid of the knife.”

Gabriela giggled. Was this child not aware of how much she overpowered her? Within their kind, the longer they lived, the stronger they were. This girl surely must not be a fool. Perhaps it was simply the fire that flowed within the temperament of those who possessed red eyes like they did.

Gabriela covered Saya’s mouth while bridal carrying her and doing a high jump off the ship. She then took her niece to the harbor.

Saya took the opportunity to confront the silver-haired girl. “…Who are you? And what do you want with me?”

The silver-haired girl laughed. “Foolish child. Do you not even recognize your own flesh and blood?”

Saya’s reddish-brown eyes widened as she allowed herself to sniff the scent of the girl before her although since the female referred to her as a “child”, perhaps the right term would be “woman” although she didn’t look any older than her physical age.

“I am your aunt, Gabriela.”

“…My aunt? That’s impossible, my mother is…”

“Dead? Nothing more than a dried-up corpse? Well, that’s because I killed her. You and Diva are not the last of your kind. I’m sure most of them are far away from the two of you, blissfully uninvolved in the madness of Diva’s faction to turn mankind into mindless inferiors of Lunar Bat Immortals and blissfully uninvolved to get involved in your massacre of our kind.”

Saya hissed “…You! If it wasn’t for you, Diva and I would be living different lives by now.”

Gabriela gave a mocking laugh. “Why, don’t blame me Saya. In fact, you wish you never existed in the first place.”

Saya was stunned. How could this woman who had never been present in her life know her and her deepest, darkest thoughts?

“If it were up to me, you and your sister would’ve stayed dead along with your mother. If you wish to blame someone so badly. Blame it on the human man who raised you and his assistant. Foolish men who should’ve never meddled with your fates in the first place.”

“How… How do you know about all of this?”

Gabriela smirked. “I have my ways, dear child. It wouldn’t be surprising to me if my tale sounded familiar to you. Once upon a time…”

~Later~

Saya gripped the metal bars behind her to keep her from falling from the weight of all she had learned from Gabriela and lowered her head. “My… My mother deceived you into becoming a mermaid?”

The elder Red Chiropteran somberly frowned. “Quite like Diva, isn’t she? We thought our other selves were our friends but when they envied our freedoms, they sent us to our doom. I was condemned to a life in the sea, and you lost your home and everything you ever knew. Tell me Saya, do you still blame me for what I did?”

She smiled as she approached her niece who glared at her. “After all, you are walking the same path I did.”

“That’s not true!” Saya defensively retorted.

“It may have started out as a quest to get revenge but it’s more than that. Chiropterans don’t deserve to exist in this world. We feed on blood while wearing the faces of humans. Diva is trying to destroy the world by turning humans into mindless Chiropterans.”

The silver-haired woman frowned. “I almost feel pity for Gabriele seeing how much you’ve deluded yourself into a state of self-hatred towards yourself and your own kind. Diva is just as delusional as you are. Lumping all humans with her contempt for them and condemning her own kind as well for we cannot survive without humans.” She touched Saya’s cheek, and the gentle touch made Saya bristle from her distrust.

Gabriela had a somber expression. “It’s quite a shame. If my relationship with your mother wasn’t so ill-fated, I’m sure we would’ve been good family to one another for you and I are alike in many ways.”

Saya gritted her teeth. “I am nothing like you.”

Gabriela returned a similar glare at her niece and spoke in a similar bitter tone. “As I said, you’ve deluded yourself to the point that you refuse to acknowledge the truth. If you hadn’t met me Saya, you would have killed Diva just as I killed your mother many years ago. But worry not. I shall grant your wish to end your existence and I will end your sister as well. I shall allow no traces of Gabriele to remain.”

Soon after, a glowing portal shone and while Diva still held resentment for her sister for wanting to kill her, she was more enraged at the idea of someone else trying to kill her sister.

Diva cried. “Saya!”

She aimed a dagger at her aunt’s throat. However, the silver-haired woman simply grabbed Saya towards her and aimed the knife near Saya’s throat.

Diva once again called out Saya’s name.

“Oh? So, you still care for your sister? How surprising. Or is it that you don’t like the idea of your prey being taken from you?”

She turned her head as her face contorted in anger and her ruby eyes glowed. “It’ll be all over if I kill the two of you right here!...”

She froze at the sound of two roars piercing the air. Icy blue eyes burned and fiery eyes flared. She hadn’t seen those two faces in so long… Her mother and her aunt…

Her aunt used her telekinetic abilities to grab her nieces!

Báixuě’s monstrous voice asked “What are you doing here Gabriela? I thought I told you to never show your face before me again. How dare you try to harm Gabriele’s children.”

Gabriela sweated as she gave a bitter smile. “So, I see that Gabriele’s children are more important than me. Your only living daughter.”

“You are no daughter of mine. You’re a murderer and you killed your only sister.” Báixuě choked her eldest daughter as a threat. “If you show your face before me again and try to harm these children, I swear…”

Her daughter rasped “T-that you’ll kill me?... I have…Daugh…ters… Too… Mother…”

Méi gui hóng’s eyes dimmed back to its former crimson as she spoke in a pleading tone “Jiějiě.”

Báixuě released her hold on Gabriela which sent her into a coughing fit. “Leave. You’re outnumbered here.”

“As… You wish.” Gabriela rasped out before jumping into the air, transforming back into a mermaid, and her head floated above the waves before submerging underwater.

The End

#Blood+ drabble #drabble #ch: Saya #ch: Báixuě #ch: Méi gui hóng #ch: Gabriela #Saya's drabble #Méi gui hóng’s drabble #Báixuě's drabble #violent thoughts tw #nudity mention tw #strangulation tw #knife tw #weapon tw #eyes tw #murder mention tw #my drabble

0 notes

honeycollectswhump · 5 days

Text

Initials

[masterlist]

CW: whumper pov, pet whump, dehumanisation, cutting (NOT self-harm), gore

Mireille hadn’t put too much thought into it, not really. But she didn’t need to. The moment she lay eyes upon the initials carved into the jewelled perfume bottle in the home of one of her suitors, it was decided.

Henri was a good man, certainly as good as he could get, though not without some imperfections. He was of good stature, broad shoulders, though unaware of how to present them, always slouching slightly, as if the weight of his own frame was too much. And really, that wasn’t acceptable in the eyes of perfection. Maybe Mireille could make him great, could make him her own and teach him how to be proper, but maybe this was the best he could get and she’d just waste her time. Honestly, she’d rather be certain of her efforts, but he didn’t need to know, for his presents still made lovely decor.

He did have good taste, otherwise she wouldn’t have entertained him for so long.

All that matters now though, is the sunlight catching in the glass carvings of the bottle, the image replaying in her mind. She wants it too, and she wants it now, and Mireille knows just the possession perfectly suited for this:

Her little ashtray.

There is no thought in her mind of where to do this, who to ask. None of them would see the vision in her mind, the exact way it’s supposed to look. They’d all mess it up, ignorant of the gracefulness she lent to her ashtray. No, this is a personal project.

It is too easy to acquire a proper knife without suspicion. These men –the useful ones– – would bend over backwards just to get a chance at pleasing her. Sometimes she’d go as far as calling it boring, but what else was she supposed to do when all it took was the batting of her lashes, looking up at them with big, dumb doe eyes and slightly parted lips? Her body spoke a language none of them could resist, none of them were ever more than prey to fall in worship.

And worship they did, falling to their knees to satisfy her in all the ways she allowed them. She was their queen in satin sheets and velvet dresses.

So here she sits, legs crossed elegantly on her precious couch, the fine knife not yet unpacked, resting in a silver case, embedded with diamonds.

No one else understands that not only does the result need to be flawless, but every single step needs to be immaculate, from the tools to the cutting to the one performing. An image has to be created, a scene, and none of those lowly things could ever understand her vision. That was what has always made her inherently different, inherently superior, and deserving of rightful worship.

A servant rushes into the room, hitching breaths restricted by the working collar, eying the golden bell set carefully on the glass table in front of her.

“You called, Mistress?” they ask, staring cautiously at the floor, not yet daring to raise their eyes to meet hers. Good. She wants them revering.

“Yes. Fetch me my ashtray, won’t you?” Mireille drawls, her bubbling excitement hidden under layers of refined grace. “And bring me some strong dogs. They will be needed.”

The servant nods, not worrying their stupid little head about her meaning, teasing what's to come, and rushes out as quickly as they came. They look frail, purposeful like porcelain, probably why she bought them, though their name or number had left her mind long ago. An unimportant piece of information abandoned along the way, replaced with something of value.

Only minutes later, the same servant returns, gripping the ashtray’s golden leash too tightly. It’s barely noticeable but nonetheless doesn’t escape her all-seeing eyes; the way their knuckles drain of colour disturbs the otherwise pristine scene. They are followed by two guard dogs, muscular and well rested, their posture straight and imposing, their gaze hard and cold like unmoving stone.

The ashtray looks perfect as usual, the thought both pleasing and stinging in a way that does not fit her image. So Mireille pushes it aside, a worry for later or preferably for never. They can’t have taken long to get him ready. And yet…

“Undress the ashtray. I want his chest to be free” Mireille orders, snapping her fingers. The servant quickly complies, buttoning the fine blouse the ashtray was decorated with open, pulling up away from him and folding it with learned precision.

It only takes a hand movement for the ashtray to step forward, for him to sink to his knees in front of her. The poor lamb doesn’t yet know what is coming.

“Hold him.”

The ashtray gasps and for a single, disobedient moment looks up at her with big panicked eyes. The way his blue eyes shine in the golden light of the chandelier does nothing but strengthen her resolve. Maybe, in another world, the view in front of her would be a painting she saw at an auction, a beautiful angel wrapped in gold captured by beasts of stone, unknowing of his fate. And like a painting, it is only natural for her to leave her mark.

He doesn’t struggle, even when she can’t imagine this was part of his training, he just looks at her pleadingly, unsure what he is even begging for.

It’s a scene now and Mireille will be a perfect part of it.

Slowly, she stands up, taking the silver case from the table as she passes it, positioning herself right in front of the ashtray. It opens with a satisfying click, revealing polished metal, sharp edges, red velvet and her initials finely engraved on the handle. Mireille can just about stop a laugh from bubbling up.

She crouches down to the ashtray’s eye level, laying a hand on his cheek. He doesn’t even lean into it. “Don’t. Move.”

Mireille takes the knife, letting it gleam in the gentle light, and hands the case to the servant still watching.

She can’t mess up now. It has to come from her heart.

Carefully, she traces her initials into the skin on his collarbone, making only slight cuts, letting her letters swirl around.

M. A. B.

Holding the knife like a painter's brush, with meticulous, perfected movements. It comes to her like second nature and the first step is completed.

In a final decision, she lays the knife’s edge on the first line of the M, watching the ashtray’s breath hitch in horrible anticipation. Not even a wince has broken through his training and Mireille is more than curious to test how far she can take it.

Were he any cheaper, she’d love to test what would get him to break his training. If she could get him to speak after all. But that wouldn’t be graceful, now would it? It would be a waste.

Instead, she presses it into his flesh, cutting down slowly, precisely. Once, then twice. The ashtray’s breath gets laboured and it only fuels her. She knows what she wants; an ornate engraving, decor on his skin, a signature on her masterpiece.

Fresh, richly red blood pours from the cuts, running down his bare chest like tiny rivers, connecting and separating, getting caught in raised scar tissue.

Mireille moves carefully, taking her sweet time, her lips opened slightly, imitating an artist. Position, press, slide. His flesh parts beautifully, like he was made for this. For a moment, she looks over to the servant, who is pressing the case against their chest, their face showing sloppily concealed horror, and it makes her smile. They would probably call it brutal, ignoring the gentle way her knife slides through his skin, not meeting any resistance. They’d call it violent, not comprehending the second artwork the rivulets of blood form through the hand of fate itself. They lack the mind of an artist and the nature of a human.

By the time she reaches the A, the ashtray is barely holding back sobs, letting out silent, crooked whimpers –a sound so ugly she should punish him for it–, as she etches her mark deep enough to hit the bone. Still, he doesn’t move, doesn’t strain against the unforgiving grip holding his arms, against her carving following the twirls and flourishes.

She doesn’t admit to herself that it is more challenging than she thought, to follow the rounded lines with a tool that craves sharp edges and straight incisions. The curves of the B make the knife catch on the bone and the ashtray lets out a soundless gasping scream, blue eyes nearly rolling back in his head. The tears he could barely hold back before now run down his face in a disobedient river, mixing with the blood on his chest, destroying her artwork.

He lifts his head upwards, in a last attempt to stop the flow of the tears, but it only makes them drip from his chin into the gashes and he is destroying everything–

A slap echoes through the room, loud enough to make his pathetic sobbing stop in an instant.

“Get your act together.” Mireille hisses, grabbing his chin and letting her manicured nails dig into his pretty face. “Or I will rip you apart, you worthless piece of trash.”

Only the word Worthless seems to get through to his stupid fucking pet brain. There is a reason he was made into a thoughtless object instead of anything else. His beauty is his only strength, the only reason they didn’t mercy-kill him, punish him for stealing space and air and atoms from anything with more use.

He is an ashtray or he is Nothing. And if he keeps ruining her attempts to make Something out of him, he will wish she had let him keep his voice to beg for death.

At last, the ashtray doesn’t act up any more, stays motionless and silent as she finishes the B. When she pulls his skin taut, she can feel him tremble with the effort to keep still. Seems like his training had some use after all.

Finally satisfied, Mireille lays the bloody knife aside, giving herself some time to analyze her work. Briefly, she turns to the servant to order a towel, before devoting her attention back to the signature, quickly overflowing with blood. It’s beautiful, but her interest lies somewhere else.

She digs two fingers into a line of the A, pulling the incision apart. The ashtray only manages a whimper that she gives no regard to, as she digs deeper and deeper through the tissue, against the continuous blood flow. Then, against the intense red, her own personal gold shines through.

Bone.

A pleased giggle escapes her.

It is done.

Whatever will happen, whoever will lay their eyes upon them, it will be eternally clear who he belongs to. There are nicks in his bone that her knife and her hands caused and he will forever know.

And when her stupid little ashtray comes back to his senses and remembers his silent purpose, he will thank her for it tenfold.

Taglist: @whumpsday, @2in1whump, @sodacreampuff, @webbo0, @toyybox, @sowhumpshaped, @clickerflight, @itsawhumpsideblog, @piniatafullofblood let me know if you want to be added or removed :)

i hope you enjoyed this chapter!! if you did, i would be very thankful if you considered donating to @whumpcloud's gofundme for their top surgery (of course only if you are financially able to!!!). it would mean the world to us both <3

42 notes · View notes