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bittersweet-innocence · 2 years ago

Text

Familiar

CW: Death, semi graphic descriptions of wounds, semi graphic description of vomit, referenced depression, necromancy, cannibalism, hatesex, cannibalism during sex, blood as lube, prickly dick (yes im serious), Top!Reader, Murder (I think that’s all, let me know if I missed any)

WC: 12,715

AMAB! Reader (gender neutral pronouns, but they got a dick)

You didn’t remember what came after death, if there was anything at all. You remembered dying. You remembered something attacking you from behind, knocking you to the ground with sharp claws. You remembered screaming as those same claws started to dig into your back. It clawed through your clothes, your skin, and into the recesses of your organs. You remembered your screams dying off into gasping wheezes as it tore into your lungs. You remembered staring at the ruined herbs you had collected and how it felt as blood filled in your lungs and you drowned.

As your body faded into numbness, you prayed that whatever afterlife awaited you would be kind. But when you took your last breath and your heart slowed to a stop, your eyes snapped open and a haggard gasp tore through you.

Your vision was blurred and fuzzy, dark colors warping around you was all you could see. Everything hurt like you were a raw nerve. You coughed and gasped desperately, fighting against the ache in your lungs. It felt like you hadn’t taken a deep breath in years and the relief was immense. You couldn’t get a big enough breath as you rolled onto your side, hands clawing at your resting place. Your fingers dug into whatever you had been rested on. It took a moment for the word to register as it came apart under your fingers, soft and loose— dirt. You were laying in dirt.

You focused on slowing your breathing. Your chest still ached, but it was manageable now. You blinked, trying to clear away the last bits of bleary fuzz in the corners of your vision. Dirt was everywhere, spanning across the ground and up. Your brow furrowed in confusion as you followed the tall wall of dirt up higher and higher until the dark sky of night peeked over the top.

Another word that took a while to remember: grave. You were in a grave… why were you in a grave? You had died, there was no mistake in that. There was no spell or potion that could have saved you from such a mauling. Was this the afterlife? Did you have to meet death yourself?

No. No, this was no afterlife. No afterlife would leave you suffering in such pain. But how were you alive?

You would find no answers here in this grave. You tried to sit up, but a pained yelp escaped your lips the moment you tried to push yourself up. You fell back into the dirt, back spasming in agony. Whimpering, your hand slowly moved to touch over your shoulder. You didn’t have to reach far before you felt the rough scars roping across your back, running in all directions.

You whimpered again, unable to quiet the sounds. Just grazing over the scars made you want to scream and tears prickled at your eyes. You took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, squeezing your eyes shut. You pushed up again, forcing yourself to be quick.

This time you managed to sit up even if a scream ripped through your throat. It felt like the lining of your throat was torn, no doubt from how much you screamed when first attacked. You tucked your legs under you as you tried to take calming breaths. You held onto your elbows as your head tipped back. You stared up at the star dotted sky.

How long had it been? The dark night offered no answers, but your wounds did. Your wounds that were bearing signs of being old and healed to the best of your body’s weak abilities.

Tears filled the lining of your eyes as you placed your hands back onto the dirt and you pushed yourself up onto your feet with as much grace as a newborn fawn. Shaking and weak, your hands flew from the dirt floor to the walls of your grave. You clawed at the loose dirt and small clusters of roots as your fingers found them.

Tears finally fell as you lifted your arms higher, trying to reach the top of your grave. You couldn’t remember the last time you cried, but you cried now as your muscles were forced to move under your skin and you had to wobble onto your tiptoes to reach the top.

Grass never felt so welcome under your nails as it did in that moment. You gasped and quickly dug your fingers in, digging into the earth. Your back twitched and for a moment you just stood there, on your tiptoes, fingers buried in grass, and sobbed.

Most people were scared of death because of their fear of the unknown, fear of what truly waited in the other side, but you held a whole new fear.

You now knew the fear of coming back and knowing nothing, you felt like a child all over again, helpless and confused by the world around you, by what your body was doing to you.

You took a deep breath and gritted your teeth. You weren’t a child and you could figure this out. You just had to get home. You began to pull yourself up. A mixture of screaming and sobbing left your lips as your feet left the ground, scrabbling against the dirt for footholds that didn’t exist. You grabbed fistful after fistful of grass as your dragged yourself out of your resting place.

Inch by inch your body dragged itself out. You finally gave up after your hips were dragged onto the grass and went limp. Your agony only increased tenfold and you wished you hadn’t given your body rest.

You kicked your legs out of the grave and rolled onto your stomach, panting into the grass as you waited for the screaming agony to subside. It took a while, a while too long for you to be happy with as you forced yourself to sit up.

You looked around, trying to discern where you were. One quick glance and you knew. Other grave markers laid around yours, each personal to every person or creature that laid within the dirt. Wooden crosses, stone tablets, marked trees, patches of glowing mushrooms, you were at the cemetery of your coven.

“W…what?” You croaked, feeling your breath pick up. Hysteria wanted to bear down on your shoulders, you had truly died. What did that mean now? You didn’t spot any new grave markers, but that could easily mean it had only been a few weeks or fifty years.

You instantly scratched the thought. You were no practiced healer, but those scars had at least a few months of healing to them.

You took another deep breath (it still felt so immensely great to fill your lungs with air) and calmed yourself. You looked around again. Any small detail could help you in your plight.

On the other side of your grave, opposite to the side your climbed out of, laid a tall mound of dirt. Someone had unburied you; someone knew you were going to wake up.

With that knowledge, you held yourself again. Someone knew you were going to wake up. Had your coven found something? A spell that could bring those back? It was impossible you knew even through your wishful thinking. It went against the circle of life and was immoral in every way possible, violating the sweet embrace of death, but you hoped.

You pushed your knees underneath you and planted your hands firmly in the grass. You stared down at the ground as you pushed yourself up to your feet, nearly falling backward onto your ass.

You quickly over corrected and wobbled haphazardly back and forth on your unsteady legs until you found some semblance of balance. You stared down at your grave, trying not to fall back in. You turned your head to your grave marker, or where it was supposed to be.

There was a shallow line in the grass, burying into the dirt. A stone marker then, and dead leaves around the shallow line. Flowers. A stone marker covered in flowers. Where was your marker? What was happening?

You looked away from your grave and turned your eyes back to the sky. You wobbled all around, trying to stay upright as you sought out the moon for a rough estimate of how long it had been. The sight of the moon had your heart stuttering in your chest.

The moon was red and dim as it hung in the sky, a splash of red against a canvas of black and white. You had been collecting herbs because tonight was the blood moon meeting, and you knew you wouldn’t have any energy come tomorrow to collect herbs.

Every blood lunar eclipse, your coven held a meeting for all members scattered across the countryside. The moon held high in the air. If you hurried you could make it to the meeting and find some sanity in this madness.

As you stumbled away from your grave, you felt the severity of being resurrected. Your body didn’t feel like your own. You felt like you were wearing someone else’s skin and your body didn’t fit right inside theirs. You felt boneless, like a limp rag doll as you forced your legs to move. You felt sluggish and your movements reflected that, you legs moved too slow and your body seemed to lag behind them as you almost fell onto your rear yet again.

It felt foreign, it made you feel alien in your own skin, it made you want to vomit and you tasted stomach acid in the back of your throat, but you pushed on, looking for a sense of familiarity and comfort.

It was difficult to trek through the dense forest being as out of it as you were, but you kept up your fumbling until it seemed your muscles had remembered the bare minimum of requirements for walking. Once you found some steady footing you moved a lot faster, feeling your heart pick up it roared louder and louder in your ears until you saw the low flickering flames of candles.

You were here, you had made it. A hysterical laugh bubbled in your chest as you pushed through the last few shrubs and bushes. On the other side stood the members of your coven, you easily recognized faces. Grendel, Alice, Elise, Beth, Charles.

Your tears returned in an instant and a hoarse cry left your lips that had all heads turning toward you. You wanted to say something, you wanted to fall into the first arms that could reach you, but you just stood there, blubbering and shaking.

You saw several emotions cross over the various faces in the crowd. Horror, disgust, confusion, fear, hope, concern. You only cried harder. One woman stepped forward and through your tears you recognized her blonde hair as Elise.

“Wha.. how? It can’t really be you?” She stammered as she took slow steps toward you. You shook harder, trembling as you cried. You nodded desperately. It was you, you didn’t know how, but it was truly you.

“…Help…” you finally managed to utter and Elise rushed forward, hope flaring like starlight across her face as she held out her arms and you fell easily into them. She felt so warm, so soft and familiar. “E-Elise!” You wailed, desperate to hold onto anything you knew.

You squeezed your eyes shut as she held onto you as best she could. You stood a few heads taller than her and you curled your body to hide your face in her dark robes. You heard footsteps rushing toward you.

Happiness rushed through your body like a drug and was ripped away from you just as quickly as it came. A hand came down on Elise’s shoulder just by your wet cheeks and she was yanked away from you so roughly you fell to your knees.

You eyes flew open and you stared up at Elise’s confused face and the eldest witch of your coven, Marybeth, as she glared down at you.

“Marybeth, what are you—“

“Silence, child.” Marybeth said sternly, her voice easily cutting over Elise’s. You hiccuped and wiped at your eyes to clear away your fuzzy tears. “This creature you see before you is not our friend, it is a demon masquerading as the one passed.”

“No… No!” You cried, trying to crawl toward her, a familiar face pinched all wrong in an expression you never knew in your lifetime. “No! It’s me! I promise, it’s me!”

Marybeth shook her head and pushed Elise behind her despite her protesting words, but you didn’t let your eldest get a word in.

“I don’t know what happened! I woke up! Please! Please, I’m so scared Marybeth…” you sobbed, pleading cries breaking down into weak whispers. You bowed your head to her like this was a simple scolding, a simple punishment that needed to happen. Your hands curled into fists on your knees and for the first time, you took in the state of yourself.

Your pants were torn and smeared with mud, your shirt holding a similar state. Your hand shot up to your shoulder, where you met bare skin, the back of your shirt still ripped open from your attack, the bits of skin you could see were dirty and dull. You realized how you must look. A corpse, a walking, talking corpse. You didn’t blame Marybeth for her suspicion.

“Please Marybeth, please don’t leave me..” you said quietly as you stared at her shoes. You saw as she shifted her weight, a tell. She was uncertain. “Please. I’ll do anything.”

“How did you die? What was the second spell you ever performed?” Marybeth asked suddenly, her tone unreadable. You looked up. Her face was the same, an unreadable mask of indifference, but her eyes warred with a million different emotions all at once.

She was trying to give you a chance to prove yourself to be truly you.

“I-I got attacked. I was collecting lilies and something got me from behind. A bear or something of that like. Big with even bigger claws.” You said. That memory came quick and easy, but you frantically searched the recesses of your mind for the answer to her second question. Your second spell. Everyone remembered their first spell, but few remembered their second. “Uh, uh… I don’t know. I-I don’t remember.”

Marybeth’s eyes narrowed and magic crackled in the air like a current of electricity. You were losing her and she was going to turn on you for the safety of the coven. Just like that, the memory came back to you.

“I brought a tree to life!” You cried. You grinned like a madman. A witch named Annabelle had been you teacher and she had given you the task to lift a branch off the ground as a levitation spell, but you couldn’t do it. You got frustrated and just like that, a tree sprung to life and nearly took her head off with the wild smack it’s branch threw. The gossip of her near death and the raw magic found within you had spread like wildfire. While your task had been to lift something, ultimately the tree had been your second spell.

The magic evaporated from the air and Marybeth lost a tension you hadn’t noticed her shoulders holding. Marybeth turned toward the rest of the coven, hovering uncertainly nearby.

“Return to your homes. This meeting has come to an end. May I see you again at the next blood eclipse.” She said with a tone of finality no one dared question if they knew what was best for them.

Only faces you knew stayed. Elise pushed past Marybeth and fell to her knees, drawing you into a proper hug.

“We thought you were gone. We’re so sorry.” She cried, her tears joining your own.

“I was. I don’t know what happened, but I was and someone dug me up and I woke up and I didn’t know what else to do.” You cried, hiccuping around your tears and clinging to her with all your weak limbed might.

“You may have proven yourself to be the one we knew,” Marybeth begins slowly, weighing her options. You looked up at her and Elise turned as well, concern written across her face. “But death takes all. Your familiar with decide how much of your soul remains.”

“Fritz? Fritz is here?” You asked, happiness bubbling in your chest. It couldn’t have been that long if Fritz was still around. “Is he okay? Who has he been staying with? How long has it been?”

Marybeth raised her hand and you quieted your rapid fire questions.

“We buried you less than four hours ago. Maxwell found what was left of you and we had to set about a quick burial.” Marybeth said. “Your actual funeral would have been tomorrow. We delivered the news to Fritz and he refused to leave your cottage. Elise, go get him.”

“What? No. I want to stay here with them. They need a—“ Marybeth gave Elise a poisonous glare.

“Their cat, Elise. Now. He’ll come out of hiding once he knows of their return.” Marybeth said flatly. “He will decide whether they are whole enough to remain one of the coven. Quickly.”

Elise hesitated only for a moment more before she gave you a firm squeeze and pulled away, quickly climbing to her feet and running off into the woods.

You withheld a wince as you watched her disappear into the darkness. She had squeezed just under your scars and your back ached.

Marybeth stared down at you, her eyes narrowing. She tilted her head.

“Why are you in pain, child?” She asked. You gaped for a moment, unsure of how to bring up your scars given how short it had been since your attack. Would that only bring her suspicions back? But you didn’t have to answer, Grendel did that for you.

“Their back is fucked to hell and back.” He said and your head snapped around, not realizing he had walked behind you.

“Language.” Was Marybeth’s immediate reply, more automatic than an actual response. “What do you mean?”

Grendel gestured loosely to your back. “Their back is scarred over. It’s not like when we found them, it healed. Still raw, but overall healed.” He replied, leaning over to get a better look. You resisted the urge to shyly cover your back. You had never been one shy away due to any level of nudity, but his scrutiny made you feel overexposed.

Marybeth quickly strode past you, her robes brushing against you as she walked to Grendel’s side and took in the state of your back.

“Black magic. Nasty stuff.” She said with certainty. Your eyes widened. So black magic had been used on you. You got back onto your feet and wiped your eyes, cleaning off your tear soaked cheeks. You didn’t realize you had stopped crying, but under Marybeth’s watchful eye, your tears dried.

“Is that how I’m back? Who could have known such a spell?” You asked, turning to them and hiding your back from view. “No one teaches necromancy. Even those who claim they know how are always just con artists.”

Marybeth shook her head. “I don’t know…” she said softly. She looked like she might elaborate further, explain what was churning through that wise mind of hers, but Elise returned (making record time going to your cottage and back) with a familiar sight in her arms.

“Fritz!” You said cheerfully.

“You’ve returned. Swell.” Marybeth said, crossing her arms over her chest as Elise walked up to her, ignoring the squirming Fritz in her arms. Your tabby cat never had the patience for being held.

Marybeth nodded to your familiar. “Put him down and let him decide. If he can accept them, they can stay. But if he rejects them, it means their soul has been torn apart and they can no longer reside as a member.” She said. Elise nodded and put Fritz down, dusting off the orange and white hairs that clung to her robes.

Fritz eagerly ran out of her arms and up to you with a loud meow, bordering on outraged yowl. You bent down to embrace him. You imagined him cursing you out for giving him such a fright, but you only imagined that. You did not hear him.

Fritz realized it too and stopped a foot away from you. He tilted his head. That was how you communicated with one another. Everyone had their own way. Some familiars could talk, others could write and draw, and some could communicate through a form of telepathy.

That is how you communicated with Fritz, through silent conversations, bringing you into a closely bonded relationship with your familiar, but there was nothing. The silence in your head almost felt deafening as you searched for the quiet echo of Fritz’s voice. Nothing.

Your cat realized it too. His ears flattened to his head and a low growl warbled out of his throat.

“No, no, Fritz. Fritz, it’s me.” You said pleadingly. Fritz’s hair stood along his spine and he crouched lowly to the floor as he backed away. “No—wait please!”

You moved forward, trying to grab Fritz and draw him into your embrace like that would bring back his voice. Like that would change his mind. Instantly he scurried back and swiped at your hands with a harsh hiss.

Your familiar, your beloved bonded, turned tail and ran back to Marybeth, ducking into her robes. Your gaze rose up from where your cat hid up to Marybeth’s closed off face. The decision had been made, she saw everything.

“No-no… no please, I’m still me!” You gasped out, straightening your posture. “Please! I know him! I know all of you! Please don’t abandon me!”

Marybeth swallowed and refused to meet your gaze as she stared down at the ground.

“It is out of my hands.” She said finally. Her voice curt. “You may remember, but your soul does not remain the same.”

You shook your head desperately. “No, please, I can’t leave. Here is all I know!” Your voice raised in a desperate yell and you took a deep breath as fear flashed across some faces. They all had known you for so long, but fear shone in their eyes. You tried again, quieter. “I can’t go anywhere else. I won’t survive anywhere else. Marybeth, please.”

“I understand that. But judgement has been given and the decision cannot be changed.” She said. “However, we will not chase you out of the countryside.”

She still refused to look up at you, but you stared at her, heart pounding and stuttering with every breath. Maybe you would drop dead again, this time from a heart attack.

“You may stay at your cottage. Fritz will come to stay with me.” She said. She sighed softly and finally looked up at you. “Someone will deliver food to you, but you may not leave your home. Not in the daylight.”

Marybeth shook her head and quiet murmurs popped up through the small crowd of your friends. “If the villagers see you, they’ll hang us all, the protection we provide be damned.”

You didn’t like any of this, you hated it. You felt like crying again. However, you would take it. You could figure out what was happening to you and maybe, by some miracle you could become a member of the coven again. Staying in your cottage meant you could find something, knowing there was something to find. It would be okay, it had to be okay. You nodded slowly. “…Okay.”

Marybeth nodded back at you and echoed your soft ‘okay’, but her voice sounded like you were hearing it through water. She sighed again and dropped your gaze. “To your cottage. We have to remove your marker and fill the grave again and you should get some rest.”

You nod again and turn away slowly, feeling disconnected. Nothing felt real. Fritz should be at your side. You should be wearing you own robes. Everything was wrong. You distantly remembered one thing and it was the last thing you said before you stumbled into the dark woods the same direction Elise came from.

“My marker is gone.”

Your cottage looked odd, standing like an abandoned fortress in the dark. You usually had at least a few lanterns lit, but the house was soulless.

You walked up to it, half expecting it to jump to life and reject you like Fritz had. Fritz… You broke down into tears again on your doorstep. You pushed the door open and hurried inside, you didn’t want anyone else to see you cry yet again.

You slammed the door shut behind you and slammed your hand down onto the lock, forcing it locked with your magic. Even your magic felt wrong, like slime dripping off your fingers rather than an inviting breeze.

You would have to get a new key assuming you had lost yours in the attack. The house was pitch black and you wandered around blindly in the dark to find a candle and a match. You kept falling over furniture and stacks of old books you never got the chance to read, but you realized the pain was distant. It barley was noticeable to your mind and you pushed it away. You had died, you had been exiled from your coven, nothing else could really affect you right now.

Eventually you found a candle and a match. You shakily lit the candle, burning your fingertip. Distant.

You didn’t even make it to bed, just to the couch where you pushed books and empty vases off and onto the floor. You placed the candle on the floor and curled up on the couch, forcing your back to curve despite the pain. Maybe if you got lucky, the candle would light the couch on fire and you could burn to death in your sleep.

Of course, no such thing happened. You woke up sometime the following day, and simply sobbed on the couch. It wasn’t a dream, it was real. Everything was real. Your pain only grew inside and out as you realized how alone you were.

You spent most of that first day crying on the couch. And the next day and the next day. It wasn’t until the fifth day you finally got up, your stomach finally became too much for you to ignore. You had been told to stay in your cottage during the day lest you be seen, but upon finding nothing to eat in your cupboard, you unlocked and opened your door.

Sitting on your doorstep was a wicker basket covered by a sheet, a small note laid on top. You took the note. It was written in an elegant style, one purposeful and written slowly. Elise.

I came by to drop this off at your house, it read. You didn’t answer the door, but maybe you didn’t hear me or you weren’t awake, but I brought you food. Hopefully you find it before anything spoils.

You dropped to your knees, ignoring the aching pain of your back and your knees on the cobblestone doorstep, and ripped the sheet off.

It was like seeing an oasis in a desert. Apples, grapes, carrots, and all kinds of fruits and vegetables with a few cuts in meat and even a few peanut butter and jelly sandwiches tucked away.

You ate with the ferocity of a rabid dog, grabbing a sandwich and wolfing it down so quickly you barely tasted it. Then you grabbed a handful of grapes and shoved them into your mouth. Then your hands found an apple and bit into the crunchy flesh. The slightly discoloured insides told you the basket had been left out there for a while, but it wasn’t nearly enough to make you stop eating.

You eagerly took bite after bite from the apple, slowing down as your stomach was filled. You smiled against the smooth skin of the apple as you opened your mouth for another bite, but as you buried your teeth into the juicy fruit, your stomach lurched.

You only had enough time to push the basket out of the way and drop your apple before you threw up all over your doorstep. The acid burned and the smell made your eyes water as you spilled the contents of your stomach. All that food instantly wasted as you spewed.

You coughed as it finally ended, trying to clear your throat of the stinging burn. You gagged again and coughed, putting your hand over your nose to block off the horrid smell. You didn’t look at it, not wanting to ruin your appetite or taste for fruits or sandwiches.

You wiped aggressively at your eyes to clear away the watering tears as you gathered up the basket and brought it inside, closing the door. You shook like a leaf in the wind as you took the basket to your kitchen before going back outside.

You could have cleaned it with magic, a simple flick of the wrist, but you felt bad for ruining Elise’s hard work and cleaned it by hand, gagging each time your hand touched the warm, soggy bits of food.

It took longer than it should have, but finally, it was cleaned and you wandered back inside. You didn’t eat again that day. But you tried again the next day. You figured you probably ate too quickly and overwhelmed your stomach.

But it happened again. You managed to make it to a vase before you vomited again. You soon realized after many attempts that your stomach couldn’t handle anything beyond the few cuts of meat Elise had provided you.

Your body rejected everything else and with how much you vomited, leaving you feeling worse than before, you simply stuck to the meat. Your days quickly boiled down to eating and sleeping. Your plans to find a way back to normalcy fell apart and you sulked.

Whenever you weren’t sleeping or eating, you stared out of your windows and wished you could go outside, but a part of you remained scared. Elise had returned after a week for her basket so she could bring back more food. You were most eager to greet her on the doorstep.

“I’m glad to see you’re up. Have you been eating? Did you enjoy the food?” She asked when she stood on your doorstep, accepting her empty basket back and smiling at you like you weren’t dead and exiled.

Your throat felt raw from gagging and retching so you simply nodded, trying to quietly clear your throat so she wouldn’t worry.

“Yeah,” you winced slightly as you croaked raggedly. You cleared your throat again and nodded again. “It was good, but um.. I’m sorry, this is really rude of me since you’ve been so kind to bring me food, but could you bring me more meat?”

Elise tilted her head slightly and you swallowed. “Meat has just been a bit easier on my stomach. Just until I get back into the swing of things.” You felt gross. You talked as if you just had a bad cold and not that you were an object of necromancer magic.

Elise nodded and gently reached out to pat your arm. “Don’t worry about it, I’m happy to help. You know that.” She said. She was always so kind and friendly to you. Truly, you didn’t deserve it.

“I hope you’ve been sleeping okay. I know everyone’s a bit on edge right now.” She said with a small sigh. Now it was your turn to tilt your head in curiosity.

“What do you mean?” You asked. Elise’s eyes shot away from your arm and up to meet your gaze.

“You haven’t heard?” You shook your head. She shifted her weight and glanced around. “They haven’t found what attacked you yet, but everyone knows about what it did to you. It’s freaking people out.”

You sucked in a sharp breath. You had assumed whatever the beast was had been caught and killed for its crime, but now to hear that it still walked free, aggressive and dangerous. It instantly put you on edge.

You didn’t try to go out. You were forbidden to go out a during day and you were too scared to go out at night with that creature roaming the lands. You ate what Elise brought you when she came by, like a dog you waited by the window and greeted her every time. It was nice to have someone to talk to. You didn’t realize how much you relied on Fritz for company until he was gone.

Thinking of Fritz made your heart hurt and you tried not to think about how he would have begged you to let him out at night to hunt the critters attracted to your cottage now that you left food out. You ate most what Elsie brought you, but your stomach always turned against foods that held no meat and so you found yourself dumping veggies and fruits behind your cottage.

As long as they didn’t see you, the small creatures of the forest would frolic about in your yard.

A month passed like this. Sleeping, eating, waiting for Elise, and watching the animals. Your life had become a depressing monotonous cycle, but you had little energy for anything else. It seemed your stomach never filled and you were always hungry for more meat.

That’s what kept you up at night. Hunger. You paced around your room, debating eating more of what Elise had brought you. You tried to ration the meat, but your stomach was particularly demanding that night.

You were about to throw yourself back into bed and chew on your pillow until you dozed off when you heard the quietest scratch downstairs. You froze, eyes jumping to your open doorway.

Was it the beast? Did it come to finish you off and drag you to the depths of any hell that existed.

A even quieter sound dashed all your thoughts. A quiet meow. A familiar sound, one you heard every day. A cat.

Your heart raced. Could it be Fritz? Maybe he had found your lost connection and had returned to his home. You raced downstairs and threw open the door, fears be damned. But what sat on your doorstep was no orange tabby cat. You didn’t even see it in the darkness of the night until its yellow eyes flashed, bright and wide.

A black cat sat upon your doorstep. It meowed up at you, loud and demanding. You bent down slowly, reaching your hand out. This cat would soon realize you were off and run like all living creatures did now.

The cat sniffed your hand curiously, sneezing quietly which brought a soft smile to your lips. Small bits of happiness. To your surprise the cat didn’t turn and run back into the darkness, instead it bumped its heads against your hand, quickly arching its body into your touch.

“Hello there.” You said softly, obliging in its silent order for pets. It instantly purred and walked up to you, putting it paws on your legs and stretching up toward you. You couldn’t bring yourself to deny it. Fritz would have thrown a fit seeing you pick up and hold another cat, but Fritz wasn’t here to chastise you and you wouldn’t dare turn away accepting company.

You gently scooped the cat up and held it cautiously to your chest. A scratched face was the last thing you wanted or needed. The cat’s mood didn’t sour and it remained happily in your arms, purring like a fine oiled engine.

“Well aren’t you sweet. If not a bit on the thin side.” You said softly, running your hand down the cats side, feeling the hollows and arches of its bones. You shifted the cat to lay comfortably against your chest, letting your guard down as you closed the door. “Why don’t we get you something to eat, sweet thing.”

As much as the cat was cute and you genuinely wanted to help it, it also gave you an excuse to indulge a bit in your hunger. You set the cat down on your kitchen counter and looked through your cupboards for meat. Eventually you settled for a turkey sandwich.

You tore the sandwich in half, biting into your half while you passed the other off to the cat. The cat ate eagerly and you gently ran your hand over its back as you ate together.

“Where’s your home, buddy?” You asked softly. The cat offered no response, but you continued anyway. “Do you have a home? If you don’t, you can stay here. I could use a friend and you could use a safe place.”

The cat lifted its head and rubbed against your arm before eating again. You chuckled and fell silent, focusing on savouring your food. Your stomach rumbled as you swallowed down bread, but the turkey was enough for your body not to make your sick again.

Both of you finished quickly and the cat leapt off the counter and wandered around your kitchen and living room. You sighed softly, the company was nice, but it was time for your visitor to go.

You walked over to the door, the black cat hot on your heels. You opened the door and held it open for the cat. You expected it to scurry out of your cottage with little goodbye, but instead it sat by your feet and stared out into the darkness with no move to leave.

“Go one, kitty. You can go, you don’t have to stay.” You said encouragingly. The cat looked up at you and meowed as it rubbed itself against your leg. “What? You don’t wanna go?”

The cat mewed again, winding itself between your legs before it turned walked back into the kitchen. You hummed softly and closed the door.

“Okay. I’ll leave a window open for you in case you change your mind.” You said as you followed the cat into the kitchen and pushed a window open enough that it could slip out.

The cat purred softly, sniffing the air coming through the window before it turned and followed you as you left the kitchen, walking back up the stairs back to your room.

You walked into your room and collapsed down onto your bed, already curling up, stomach sated for now. The cat leapt up onto the bed with a low chirp and curled up beside your head. You smiled slightly. You had no doubt your visitor would be gone by morning, but the company was still nice. It made you think of sweeter memories in happier times as you dozed off to sleep.

You didn’t expect your visitor to still be by your side in the morning, but as you opened your eyes and rolled onto your stomach (your back was still too sore to sleep on), the cat sat beside you, staring down at you intently.

“Morning.” You mumbled, rubbing the last bit of bleariness from your eyes. The cat instantly purred and it urged something toward you insistently with its paw. You blinked and looked down at what it offered you.

A dead mouse laid beside you, laid so perfectly relaxed you would have thought it was sleeping, but it’s neck was at too odd of an angle to be natural. It took a moment for your reaction to come, another effect of your death, but when it did, you jerked back so hard you fell off your bed with a shriek.

The cat instantly ran to the edge of the bed and meowed down at you, seemingly concerned.

“I’m okay. I’m okay.” You said, sitting up and petting the cat to placate it. You weren’t surprised by it, Fritz was a spoiled house cat who couldn’t catch a rat that was deaf and blind, but you should have expected better efficiency from a stray. It probably saw it as repayment for last night.

You got up and picked up the mouse by its tail. “Uh, thanks.” You said, watching the cat puff with pride. You carried the mouse out of your room and downstairs where you threw it out the kitchen window.

The cat meowed with displeasure, having followed you, and immediately jumped out of the window after it. You shook your head and turned to the cupboards. You should skip out on breakfast since you had indulged last night, but you figured you could just skip lunch instead. Elise would be by in two days and you could stand to miss a meal.

You grabbed the last turkey sandwich and started to eat it. The cat returned after a few moments, you heard it searching the overgrown grass surrounding your cottage for the rodent, and it jumped back through the window.

The cat stared at you, its gaze neither angry nor happy, just observant. You gestures to the turkey sandwich in your hand.

“I’m good, thanks.” You said and the cat sighed heavily before it crouched on the counter beside you and started eating the mouse itself. “You still wanna hang around? I probably have a few of Fritz’s old cat toys around.”

Sure enough you did, most tucked away in Fritz’s favourite hiding places. The cat seemed to enjoy playing with them, chasing around jingling balls and playing with feathers you kept dancing in the air using your magic.

For the first time since you woke up, you felt normal. You felt like your old self again and the relief was immense. The cat stayed with you all day until night fell. When you ate your dinner, a kabob with seasoned beef, the cat stole bits off the stick, purring even when you scolded it.

The cat stayed with you again, sleeping diligently by your head. It stayed until Elise came. During that time you had made it your friend, naming it Rufus as you noted it had the round, fluffy cheeks all tomcats did.

For once you weren’t waiting for Elise by the door and was a bit startled when she knocked politely. You opened the door and greeted her with a wide grin. You noted that distantly your cheeks hurt from smiling so much. When did it become unnatural for you to smile?

“…so that’s odd, but everything’s a bit off lately.” You tuned in halfway through what Elise was saying and forgot your train of thought. You felt it was rude to ask her to repeat herself so you just nodded with a small smile.

“Anyway, here’s your food. Got the rare and kinda sad delicacy of rabbit meat in there for you, so enjoy.” She said with a kind smile as she handed over the basket. You took the basket and opened your door further.

“Thank you, Elise. Before you go, there’s actually someone I want you to meet.” You said. Elise raised a brow. You turned back into your house and saw Rufus watching you from over the couch. “Rufus, come here, kitty. This is my friend Elise.”

Rufus jumped over the couch and bounded to your side, turning his attention to Elise. Elise’s smile instantly grew and her face brightened.

“Well, hello there Rufus. Beautiful cat.” She said, waving to Rufus. “Is he your new familiar or…?” She gasped excitedly. “Are you being accepted by another?”

“Ah, no. Unfortunately not. I can’t communicate with him.” You replied with a shrug. “I think he’s just an ordinary cat. Either way, I like him. I got used to having a cat, it’s nice to have one again.”

Elise nodded thoughtfully and as you both looked back down to Rufus, your smiles faded. Rufus glared at Elise, his ears flattened to his head. With an outraged hiss, Rufus darted forward and swiped at Elise, his claws scratching deep into Elise’s leg.

She yelped, taking a step back as you quickly leaned down and grabbed Rufus, picking him up.

“No! Don’t do that!” You scolded, glaring down at him as you turned and tossed him into the house. You stepped out onto the doorstep with Elise and closed the door behind you. “I am so, so sorry. He’s never acted like that before.”

“No, it’s okay. I get it, I’m a stranger. Stranger danger and all.” Elise said. She was sweet like that, so sweet she could never hold anything against anyone. “Besides, it’s just a scratch. Nothing a bandaid won’t fix.”

“Either way, I’m sorry. I could fix it with my magic if you want.” You offered as you fiddled anxiously with your fingers. Elise was the only one who ever visited you, all your other friends faded off into nothing, you didn’t want to lose her.

Elise shook her head. “No thanks. You know how I feel about using magic on my wounds. I’ll just let Mother Nature take its course.” She replied with a shrug. She lightly patted your arm. “I’ll see you in two weeks. Take care.” She said. She turned to walk away, but hesitated. You opened your mouth to ask her if there was anything else she needed, but no words left your mouth as she turned and reached up to press a quick kiss to your cheek.

She was gone, walking away from your cottage the moment you blinked. Oh. Oh. That was unexpected. You stood dumbfounded for a few moments as you watched Elise disappear from sight. You swallowed and blindly fumbled with your doorknob for a moment before you got it open.

Instantly Rufus ran out with another hiss, snapping you out of your thoughts. You clicked your tongue at him and rolled your eyes. You walked back inside, waiting for Rufus to run back in once he realized Elise was gone. You shut the door and sat down on your couch. Rufus joined you and crawled into your lap.

You stared into space and dropped the basket on the floor and petted Rufus idly while you thought. Elise was so sweet.

Unfortunately, it seemed after her daring kiss she lost her courage to see you face to face as when two weeks came, you only found her basket on your doorstep with a note. Her name was written on the front, but on the back, there was a smear of red and scraggly handwriting.

Sorry. I cut my hand. It read simply. She must have written it with her right hand rather than her left. Her right hand didn’t have the good handwriting her dominant left hand did. But it explained the red smear.

You took the basket inside, instantly joined by Rufus who had returned from his little hunting adventure in your yard, seemingly with no catch since his jaws were empty.

You opened the basket, fully set to throw out the fruits and veggies, but what stared up at you was all meat. There wasn’t a single fruit or vegetable in the basket.

Meat sandwiches stared up at you, legs, wings, cut slices. Your brow raised, but you ultimately shrugged.

“Guess she had some meat to get rid of. Hopefully it doesn’t go bad.” You said, more than happy to have extra to eat. In fact, as you stored the meat, you shoved a sandwich in your mouth.

The taste exploded on your tongue and you were caught off guard by the whorish moan that left your mouth. You froze and glanced at Rufus from the corner of your eye. You were almost sure he was just an ordinary house cat, but it was still embarrassing to you.

Rufus’s gaze was oddly intense as he stared at you, tail twitching. You swallowed the bite you had taken and playfully turned his head away.

“Yeah, I know, I’m a pervert. Stop staring at me.” You said with a shrug. You laughed as he batted your hand away. “Gods, when I see her, I have to ask her what this is. It’s fantastic.”

Rufus only purred like a nest of bees in response, preening as you ate your sandwich.

You didn’t see Elise after that day she kissed you. The baskets kept coming, but you didn’t see her. You wished she would at least make some noise when she came so you could talk to her, maybe return her affection.

But you did appreciate all the meat she gave you. It tasted like nothing you ever had before and you found yourself drooling every time you ate even a nibble. It made you feel alive again. You didn’t own a mirror due to old superstitions, but you noticed during your baths that your skin was starting to get back a natural glow.

It was nearing All Hallows’ Eve when you finally heard something outside your cottage. Rufus was out on another hunting excursion and you had returned to your habit of waiting by the door. You heard someone stumble on the cobblestone outside and a hushed curse.

You immediately got up and threw the door open. The man on your doorstep jumped and nearly threw the wicker basket he was holding. He stared at you with wide, panicked eyes.

You felt yourself deflate a bit, but you perked up. It wasn’t his fault he wasn’t Elise. He was cute in his own right. Tanned skin with black hair that almost fell to his shoulders and yellow eyes like you had never seen before with eerie slit pupils to match.

“Hello.” You said politely, breaking the somewhat awkward silence you and this stranger had fallen into. He quickly recovered, relaxing his posture, but you could see the panic in his eyes.

“Uh, yes, hi, hello.” He said, his voice raspy as he awkwardly waved. “Uh, Elise wasn’t feeling good so she asked me to drop this off.” He said, holding out the wicker basket to you. “She also said to ask if you’re liking the meat stuff? It’s her personal recipe.”

You took the basket from him and nodded with a polite smile. “Oh yes, I adore it. I don’t think I’ve ever tasted anything so good.” You replied. “Thank you for bringing this.”

The man nodded as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his pants. “Of course. Uh, have a good day.” He said, swallowing nervously. “But, um, really quickly— I don’t tend to say this to people I haven’t known for long, but I can’t help myself anymore. You look very pretty, good, handsome. A-attractive. You look attractive.” He stammered.

You smiled slightly, feeling bashful from the compliment. “Bye then. Sorry, about uh… yeah, bye.” He said quickly then he turned and briskly walked away from your cottage. He was just barely in view when you saw him put his hands over his face in embarrassment.

Being complimented felt nice. It made you feel good. The meat made you feel good. Alive. You felt alive again.

Maybe that’s why you had the confidence. Maybe that’s why you left the house to seek Elise out yourself. Maybe if you looked alive and felt alive and acted alive, you could return to the coven, return to the living completely and truly.

Rufus was out again. He had been going out more and more and a part of you worried he was getting bored of staying around the house with you, but if this worked out, he would stay.

You got dressed in your finest clothes usually reserved for special occasions and coven meetings, but tonight was a special occasion for you entirely. You lit up your house like you used to when you were alive, carving a quick pumpkin in honour of All Hallows’ Eve tonight and you left.

You didn’t go over to Elise’s cottage a lot, but you knew the way regardless. The forest seem dark and quiet, but it was just because you were lost in your head. You had to resist the urge to skip along as you stayed in the present.

The night was so beautiful. You could hear the quiet chirping of birds singing a bit more before they slept. A distant owl. Crickets chirping in the grass. The sky was dark, but the world seemed alight with life and everything seemed to glow. Happiness was a hell of a drug.

Finally you came upon her cottage. The walkway wasn’t lit up although there were candles lined up, but you saw a light lit in her kitchen. You walked up to the house and peeked through the kitchen window to ensure you weren’t going to interrupt anything.

Your smile faded, your eyes widened and your heart jumped. There was blood everywhere, spanning across the floors and up the walls and on the cupboards of Elise’s kitchen.

Her kitchen island was laid in white sheet, but the white was barley visible under the gore it was soaked in. It looked like a butcher shop. Your breath picked up and you stared.

There were slabs of meat on the sheet that now you recognized as a torso and a leg. The leg had it calf carved out in the shape of a wing and the torso was skinned. There were more slabs of meat, undistinguishable as they hung loudly on ropes from the ceiling. You felt sick as you processed the sight before you. No… that new meat couldn’t be… Elise was too sweet.

Your thoughts were broken as someone walked into the kitchen and you instantly crouched down to the ground, just barely peeking through the window.

It was a man, wearing an apron near black with gore, his naked torso carrying splatters of blood. Even his pants had blood soaking into the dark color, so much the blood was near invisible. His black hair was tied away from his face and you could hear him singing at the top of his lungs through the window although you didn’t know the song.

But you did see the knife in his hand as he sat down at the island. He grabbed the torso and started cutting into it while he kept singing. You didn’t recognize him until he turned his head to place the piece he had cut out to the side.

It was the man who came in Elise’s place that day. That awkward man who complimented you and told you that you looked attractive. He belted out the chorus again and you shifted your weight to start running.

Instantly his head snapped over to you and those yellow eyes with those odd pupils met yours. His pupils shrank down to slits and you ran before he even got up.

Regardless as you ran, you heard him quickly catch up behind you. His footsteps fell out of step with yours, each crunch of leaves that weren’t under your shoe had your heart racing faster and faster in your ears.

Suddenly the woods no longer seemed to glow with life. The forest fell silence as you ran and every dark shadow a tree cast had your heart leaping and made you doubt if you were even going the right way, but you knew your way home. For the sake of your life, you had to remember the way home.

You pushed your legs to go faster. Ever since your resurrection you moved a lot slower than you did before. Your movements were always sluggish and jerky, but with adrenaline coursing through your veins, it felt like you were flying across the ground.

You figured you had to have picked up speed and slowly his following footsteps faded into silence. It became just you and your pounding heart and too heavy footsteps.

You ran all the way home, pushing through the aches in your side and as your head grew dizzy and started to spin. You ran until you saw your cruddy jack-o-lantern by your door.

Using your magic, you threw the door open, nearly tearing it off the hinges, and ran inside. The door slammed shut behind you and you locked it, slamming your hand down on the door to root it in place. Your magic spanned across the cottage and every window and slammed shut and locked.

You breathed a sigh of relief and shut the curtains, huddling down in the dark. Just because he lost you in the woods didn’t mean he wouldn’t come to the house. He knew where you lived. He would come and you would be next on the chopping block.

Your thoughts shattered into a million little pieces as a quiet meow sounded just outside your door. Rufus. Rufus was still outside, you didn’t check for him when you ran inside.

You ran back to the door and released your magic on the door. You jerked it open and Rufus ran in, already having sensed your tense nerves. You slammed the door closed behind him, not willing to waste a single moment or give that psychopath a single chance to get you and your pet.

“Okay. Okay, Ruf.” You said, half to calm yourself, half to calm him. “We have to hide. There’s someone bad around and we need to hide for a bit. At least until sunrise.”

You turned to face your cat, but in the place of your black cat was a pair of dirty shoes.

Your eyes followed the dirty shoes up to soaked dark pants and a dark apron to a naked chest and up to the man’s yellow eyes and black hair. Your eyes widened as he smiled awkwardly at you.

“I’m sorry.” He said softly, clasping his hands behind his back as he swayed back and forth on his feet. “You weren’t supposed to see that. I was hoping for a softer way to do this.” He sighed, his gaze sliding away from yours. “But if you let me, I can explain everything.”

You weren’t really in a place to make demands, but you were taller than him, maybe you were stronger too. “Fuck you.” You hiss lowly. “There’s nothing to explain. You fucking psychopath! Where’s Elise? What did you do to her?!” You demanded to know.

His face twitched for a moment. “Elise needed to remember her place. I’m sure she’ll never forget it and if anything, I made her wish come true, but that’s not where to begin.” He said. “I’m not just sorry for scaring you now.”

He swallowed and fell silent for a minute, but your mind started to pick up the pieces. “No…” you uttered quietly. “You’re not— you didn’t…”

He winced and nodded. “Yeah. I was the one who killed you. I really am sorry, I didn’t want to and you don’t know how much it hurt me to do it. I just wanted to hold you as you cried and screamed, but I didn’t know what else to do.” He said, gesturing wildly with his hands. “There wasn’t any other way for me to become part of your life and I had to be with you no matter what.”

Your brow furrowed and you swallowed down your nerves as you asked the next budding question you so desperately hoped wasn’t so, but deep down you already knew.

“How? How did you do it?”

He smiled a small, flat smile. “I think you know how. Shapeshifting is almost as easy to learn as necromancy is, if you know where to look to escape the con artists and scammers.” He shrugged.

“I had to leave once you died, someone heard you screaming and came. I changed into a bird and followed them to the cemetery and where they buried you.” He said slowly, shifting his weight from side to side as he weighed his words. “I dug you up and performed a little spell, but it tore your soul apart which I was worried about, but it all worked out for me.” He chuckled.

Fear trickled down your spine like ice and you tried to take a step over to the kitchen, but he just followed you and cut you off.

“Oh, sorry, I know you’re eager and in survival mode, but I’m not done telling the story.” He said with another uneasy chuckle. “Where was I? Oh, yeah, you got exiled and were all alone. I waited for a while to make sure you were alone, but then I showed up in the only way I knew how to approach you. After all, who could deny such a ‘sweet thing’, in your words.”

He sighed softly and dug his hand into his pocket and pulled out an accessory you knew all too well. “But as much as you adored me, you didn’t love me like you loved that mangy tomcat.” Fritz’s collar hung from his fingers, braided cord and a jingling bell. You had made it yourself from the cord to the bell, you made it all, and Fritz wouldn’t take it off for anything even after he rejected you.

You felt like you might cry, but you also felt rage boiling up, this man—Rufus as he revealed himself, had done something to your beloved.

“What did you do? Who are you— what are you?”

He hummed in response, pocketing the collar again. “Not really sure, to be entirely honest. My parents dropped me the moment I was born and I was never given a name. My name was usually just a perpetual scream, but you gave me a name. You made me someone.” He said, shuddering like the thought of you bestowing him a name was like being graced from the gods. His jovial face wavered slightly.

“I thought I was fine, but then that harlot wretch came by. I didn’t like her, but I could handle it if it meant she kept you fed and somewhat healthy even if she didn’t know what was best for you.” A low growl vibrated out of Rufus’s throat as he turned his gaze from you and glared at the wall. “But she just had to ruin it by kissing you. After that I realized I just had to take things into my own hands.”

He turned back to you and smiled, face soft and relaxed. “I know you’ve noticed the difference. Better skin, better mood, more energy. You feel good. You feel alive. That’s how Elise got her wish. She always wanted to be a part of your life and help you both inside and out, but you were such a quiet little recluse who preferred their cat over all others. But now she can help you inside and out. By eating her, she made you healthy in a way no other food could.”

Your gut wrenched and you put a hand over your mouth to resist gagging. That sweet meat, that was Elise. But Elise’s body could only last for so long. Rufus saw the question in your eyes, hidden behind your disgust and betrayal.

“Yeah, she wasn’t a good source forever. But what about all the others that turned you away? They had to pay penance for turning against you and now they have.” He chuckled again. “It worked well for me that you all lived so spread out.”

He smiled and took a step toward you. “It was all for you. You needed it. That tomcat may have been your beloved, but you’re my beloved and I know what’s best for you. There is always a price in necromancy. We were lucky it wasn’t so severe.”

You needed it? It was all your fault. You had somehow attracted this psycho and your friends paid the price by trying to keep the coven safe from black magic. The realization felt distant like how your pain did now. Rufus walked up to you and when he met no resistance or defiance, he gently wrapped you in a hug and pressed a kiss to your temple, it was as high as he could reach.

You had killed them. You had killed them all and you had eaten their remains. Even if you ran, you could go nowhere. Anyone coven or not would want evidence, a body and all that was their bodies now had digested in your stomach. Rufus gently took your hands and led you up to your bedroom where he took off his apron, leaving it on the floor as he pressed gentle kisses down the side of your neck and across your shoulder.

You didn’t feel it, you barely felt as he unbuttoned and pushed your shirt off your body, gently undressing you like his hands bore no blood. Like he was a sweet lover and not a demented killer.

It wasn’t until he had dressed you down entirely and he had sunk down onto his knees, kissing around your hips and pelvis that you snapped back into your mind.

It wasn’t your fault. Your death wasn’t your fault. Your resurrection wasn’t your fault. Your friends demise due to his demented mind was not your fault. Anger sparked and connected to the forefront of your mind like jumper cables connecting to a battery.

You grabbed him by his greasy black hair and you dragged him to your bed, ignoring his whining protests. It was obvious what he wanted, so you would give it to him. He wanted to hurt you and so you would hurt him right back.

You pushed him down onto your bed and held a hand firmly against his chest to hold him down while your other hand yanked down his pants, his underwear being dragged off with them. His hand clutched your wrist, but made no move to yank you away or kick you off.

You were already hard from the adrenaline coursing through your veins rather than any attraction you might have viewed him with. Any beauty he held standing of your doorstep fell away to a disgusting creature that deserved no mercy for his crimes.

You aligned yourself and pushed in with one, hard thrust. He screeched and his hands tightened around your wrist, but he still didn’t push you away. It hurt to be inside him. His walls were sandpaper dry and too tight against you as you pushed in, making you wince.

However your anger quickly pushed down any pain and you yanked your wrist away from him, grabbing his legs and pushing them as close to his chest as his body could manage without breaking. The movement only made him wail louder and you wanted to shut him up by smothering him with a pillow, but you wanted to see the hurt and pain and fear on his face as you took and twisted what he wanted from you.

Ignoring his stammering words and twitching legs you pulled out only to thrust twice as hard back in. You thrusted back and forth as hard as you could, the slide slowly becoming easier. You glance down to where you two connected and saw a ring on red blood around where your cock was buried deep inside him.

Good. You hoped it caused lasting damage. You hoped he could never sit properly again and had to forever live with the memory of you.

You turned your gaze back to his rotten face and glared down at him with blatant disdain. He, however, smiled up at you through tear filled eyes. He looked like a lover lost in pleasure rather than someone having his dignity violated and disgraced.

You hated it. You hated him.

Using the blood to quicken your thrusts, you pushed down further on his legs hearing him whimper and whine. He didn’t beg you to stop. That’s what you wanted, what a horrible, cruel part of you wanted. You wanted to hear him beg and plead and cry for you to be merciful and end his pain.

But he didn’t, he only moaned and keened, drool dripping down his chin. You hated him. Hate… Hate. Hate. HATE!

Your gaze turned down to his own cock, twitching and leaking against his stomach. Disgusting parasite was getting off on our anger. Your hand left his leg to harshly grab his cock, but he shook his head.

“I wouldn’t do that.” He said, words slurred and mouth dribbling. “I’m a little prickly.”

Your anger only flared hotter and you grabbed his cock harshly. You watch pain flash across his face for a moment, but you couldn’t focus on it as pricking pain spread across your hand.

Your hand jerked away and you realized he leaned closer to a cat than you thought, his cock covered in small barbs. He chuckled drunkenly. “Prickly~” he teased in a singsong tone.

Maybe the souls of your lost friends and companions made you do it. Something wild and angered in your reared its head and before you realized it, you leaned and down sank your teeth into Rufus’s throat.

The foolish idiot moaned when you did so, tilting his head back like he expected some soft love bite, but you bit hard. You sank your teeth in deeper and deeper until his skin caved under your teeth and his blood spilled into your mouth.

His hands flew to your hair, gripping it tightly, but he still made no move to pull you off even as his wretched moans wilted into choking gasps as you dig deeper.

His blood tasted so good on your tongue it was the best thing you ever tasted. It was euphoric, it was orgasmic. It wasn’t until your hips twitched that you realized you were actually orgasming, cock buried deep inside him as you defiled him. If you had remembered or had the energy, you might have peed in him as a final fuck you.

But instead, your teeth buried themselves into his skin until they you rooted deep and you jerked your head back, tearing out his throat with it. His hand fell out of your hair, gripping at thin air as he choked, his windpipe destroyed and crushed between your teeth.

You chewed and swallowed down his flesh, shuddering as it slid down your throat and the taste made your cock twitch again with interest. You chuckled lowly. Revenge made him taste like the best meal you had ever eaten.

Your gaze dragged down his body as he choked on his own blood, much like you had when he killed you. It was ironic and fitting. Cum was splattered on his stomach, his prickly cock laying half hard against his hip. Guess you weren’t the only one who got a kick out of eating him.

You saw his hands move from the corner of your eye and your gaze snapped over, but it was just his hands gripping weakly onto his legs and pulling them even closer to his chest, nearly at his ears. You glowered. He would die no doubt and he was still taking from you. Asking for more, carving out another piece of your soul.

You didn’t go or his silent request to fuck him again. Instead you just leaned down and continued your meal.

He was dead before you even finished eating, whether it was by blood loss or drowning in his blood, you didn’t know. All you knew was he finally fell silent you stopped twitching.

You didn’t stop eating until your stomach ached and your gag reflex choked back on his finger. You wrinkled your nose and spat it back onto his face.

He looked truly disgusting now. You had eaten away at his lips and part of his cheek. The gaping hole in his throat had expanded down to his chest and you had taken his heart out and ripped it to shred, parts of its bloody remains on your bed, soaking into the sheets.

He was missing skin up and down his legs with all of his fingers missing on one hand. His guts had been torn open, but you didn’t bother to eat anymore of his internal organs. At some point it became less about your hunger and more about making him look the same way you felt. Horrid. Disgusting. Incomplete. Utterly ruined.

You stood by his dead body, naked and covered in caked blood. You wiped your hands idly on your stomach. It would take several hours and even more baths to clear away all the blood, but that would have to wait until later.

You grabbed your pants off the floor and put them back on as you stared, refusing to take your eyes off him lest he jump to life like you had. But he didn’t move an inch. His yellow eyes and slitted pupils now dilated and blank, met your stare. Now you were truly alike.

You didn’t like how the sentiment settled inside you and you got to work disposing him. Who knew all that was dead, who knew if the others, coven or villager, would come knocking on your door for answers.

Your sheets were ruined beyond repair so you simply wrapped them around his body and dragged him off the bed. You felt petty and you dragged him down the stairs, letting his head knock against every step, just your pettiness also felt justified.

In the dead of night, you dragged him through the woods, roughing yanking on his body every time it got caught on something. You smiled to yourself as branches and thorns got stuck inside him.

You dragged him to the cemetery. You could still faintly see where you had been buried, the grass hadn’t grown back fully yet. You felt bad defiling this sacred graveyard of witches before your time, but you wanted him to feel the full circle of his actions.

You had forgotten a shovel, but you just crouched down and got to work digging with your hands. Dirt and grass got caught under your nails and smeared across your hands, but you kept digging. You dug until you had to climb into the hole to keep digging.

You climbed out and stare down at it. It was deeper than how much you had been buried. Good. Let him be closer to the hells than you. You rolled his body over to the open grave and with as much ferocity as you could, you kicked him in.

His body landed with a dull thud and you stared down at him. The sheets unraveled slightly and once again his yellow eyes stared up at you. You leaned over and spat on him before you started to bury him, pushing the dirt over his dead body. You hoped worms ate those beady eyes.

Once you were finished, covered in blood and mud and your shame, you turned your head up and stared at the sky. A blood moon stared down at you. Huh. That must have been the weird thing Elise was talking about. Blood moons never happened so often.

You stared up at the moon until it crossed the sky and began to sink as the sun rose. You weren’t allowed to be out during the day. You wandered back to your cottage and walked in, closing the door behind you.

You slept against the door, curled up in a ball. Your back no longer ached and twinged, but the marks of your horror remained. You had marked him so he could never forget, but neither could you.

You eventually moved up to your room and slept on your bare mattress. You hoped to stay up there until you died again. You hoped to pass in your sleep, to die of starvation, but it never happened even as a week passed and no one came to your door.

You felt like you should cry for your lost friends, that you should cry for your life being ripped to ruined threads, but you just stared up at the ceiling.

You opened your eyes. One week and six days. Not dead yet. Something told you to get up. A prickling feeling up your spine, a sting in your back.

You got up slowly and left you room. The hallway seemed long as you walked to the stairs and down them, hand clutching the rail down.

You knew before you saw him. You heard him purring. You felt his presence like a shadow clinging to your back. You reached the bottom of the stairs and stared at the black cat, purring atop your counter, yellow eyes and slitted pupils staring.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere x you #familiar #writing #original character

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bittersweet-innocence · 2 years ago

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lol we’re gonna pretend that i didn’t disappear for like a month. school and work has been killing me and I haven’t had any time to write, but I am going to be able to write something for Halloween. However, this may be the work where I have to implement my tag for darker works. Like there’s surface dark which is what I’ve written so far, but this work will have cannibalism which isn’t that dark to me, but I know a lot of people don’t vibe with it. We’ll see, I guess.

#me #yandere #yandere oc

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bittersweet-innocence · 2 years ago

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This is me if you even care

#me #october and Halloween are almost here #im very excited

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bittersweet-innocence · 2 years ago

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okay, hear me out. Either hucow (human cow) yandere oc or deer hybrid yandere oc. Or both. Or both but have them be reader rather than yandere.

I’m sorry but I need more nonhuman readers. Give me a mean naga reader whose yandere is so desperately in love and gets so jealous by the other magical creatures, but they also know that if they try anything, reader will crush them to death in their tail (marvellous way to go in yandere’s opinion.) like give me nonhuman readers who are dangerous and won’t be bullied by their yandere. Give me human readers who won’t get bullied. Give me a mean bitch who pushes back twice as hard.

lol I started this to chat my lust for hucows and deer hybrids and ended it with nonhuman readers and readers who aren’t pushovers (ironic considering reader in Questionable Therapist is a major pushover)

#me #yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere x you

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bittersweet-innocence · 2 years ago

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The Duke

CW: platonic yandere, mentions of death, light angst

WC: 3,614

Gender Neutral Reader

You were trying to be nice. You were making an effort, but his flat tone and cold stare just made any hope you had die like a fire in the rain. The cake wasn’t perfect, in fact it was sloppy and probably didn’t taste very great despite your best efforts, but it was the thought that counted, right.

“I don’t see how this is any concern of yours. Honestly, what are you doing?” He said flatly. He was annoyed. You tried to keep your smile, but you felt your eye twitch as you shifted you weight from foot to foot. Your patience with him and his cold shoulder was wearing thin.

Two years of marriage and you had nothing to show for it. No heir to show, not even a smidge of happiness. Just misery on both sides.

“It’s called being kind.” You say, your voice flatter than you meant. This wasn’t going to turn out well. “You could at least spend your birthday with someone rather than being cooped up in your estate like a hermit.”

You push the cake forward insistently as your eyes narrow. “Even if you don’t want to spend it with me, just take the damned cake.”

You saw him bristle and you wanted to take your words back. He was touchy enough as is, but you should have refrained from calling him a hermit. For someone so miserable, he never liked to he called out on it.

“I don’t care for celebrations.” He said, his tone harsher than necessary. “Besides, everyone would see it as insulting to my wife to celebrate this day when I can’t.”

You held back a sigh. You sympathized with him for his wife, you really did, but he always seemed to say these things that truly made no sense. In his despair, she had become a lame excuse he fell back on.

Either way, you went along with his nonsense. “Who says you can’t. Would your wife want you to live your life as a miserable wretch?” You sighed, pressing you lips into a thin line. “I apologize. That was rude.”

You swallowed your pride and temper and prayed to the gods for a little more patience. “Look, I am sorry that she died and I’m sorry that you were forced to marry me and I am sorry that you are so depressed and miserable, but that is not my fault.” You said. “And I would appreciate it if you would stop aiming you anger at me. So take the cake so I can leave.”

“Your apology is worthless to me.” He said quickly, keeping his arms crossed over his chest. He hesitated for a moment like he wanted to end the conversation there, but the venom continued to spill. “You don’t understand what it’s like. Everything I did for two years, I did in service of her memory. So don’t tell me how to live. I will not apologize for mourning her.”

“I am not asking you to apologize for mourning. I am simply saying that if she loved you as dearly as you love her, she would despise the hollow shell you have become.” You shoot back. You’re being cruel. Your mind whispered to you. You were pouring whiskey onto a festering wound, but you were angry and tired of this. The emperor made him marry you, deciding it was necessary for him to be married. That was not your problem, you had married because it was your duty, all you wanted as for him to meet you halfway.

You sighed and shook your head when he doesn’t so much as twitch. “Fine. Take the cake, don’t take the cake, I don’t care.” You said, setting the cake platter down on the ground between you.

“Maybe some animals will enjoy it. I will be returning to my estate. Have a good day, sir.” You said. You tried; you couldn’t say that you didn’t try.

You turned and left, walking down the cobblestone path out of his estate, grumbling under your breath. You could try all you liked, but unless he tried too, this was going nowhere.

Two years and he hadn’t even asked to conjoin your estates or for you to move in. You didn’t ask either, even if he said yes, it would be a stiflingly stiff house. Unless he made an attempt at anything beyond being depressed, this marriage was headed for divorce. You couldn’t inact it yourself and you wouldn’t dare even if you had the power. A divorce would tarnish your reputation much more than it would his, though you doubted he cared.

However, the moment your back turned and you walked down the path, regal and elegant even in your anger, he bent down and picked up the platter. He stared down at it with a furrowed brow. How long had it been since he received a personal gesture like this?

The cake wasn’t made very well. The layers of frosting were uneven and the writing was sloppy. It even leaned slightly. This was no bakery made cake, no self respecting baker would have sold such a creation and he doubted any of your personal cooks or servants would have dared to present such a thing to you.

Did that mean you baked it? You were a horrible baker, you were lucky you were not born of common blood and had more worth than being a village wife. He swallowed. It was a sweet gesture. He took it inside with him.

You decided to take the long way home to calm your temper, trekking on a dirt path that cut through the woods. You tried to push the duke from your mind as you walked. The woods were quiet, the only breaking noise being birds chirping from their nests and leaves crunching beneath your shoes.

As you walked home, you enjoyed the crisp air and tranquility as you pushed the conversation with him out of your mind. As you approached your estate, you heard more familiar sounds. The distant neighs of stable horses and servants washing clothes and maids gossiping and tittering in excitement over the nearing All Hallows’ Eve. You had no doubt they were all excited for the festival and costumes.

You returned their greetings as they saw you and walked to your room. You wanted nothing more than to change out of your stuffy clothes. Admittedly, you had dressed up for the duke, more out of necessity rather than personal preference, but either way, you wanted out of the suffocating corset beneath your clothes.

(You cursed the emperor for passing the new law for proper clothes. Corsets necessary for both men and women, ridiculous!)

You closed the door behind you, hands going to the buttons of your clothes. You had undone the first button when someone cleared their throat. You jumped and spun around.

Standing awkwardly in the doorway to your balcony, the duke stood awkwardly. You gaped for a moment.

“…Could you come with me?” He asked softly. He looked like an awkward teen and you felt like one.

“Mr. Ashdown? Did you follow me to my estate? Why are you here?” You asked as you opened your door again. You may be wedded, but it still felt inappropriate to be alone in your room with a man. His face twitched for a moment, he never cared when you referred by his last name before, but he didn’t seem to like it now.

“Come with you where? I don’t really have time for a wild goose chase today.” You said, feeling mildly perturbed. Did he climb up the terrace? How did he get in? The maids would have told you if they knew he was here.

“I… I am trying to apologize for my behaviour, but I also need to see if this is truly worth my efforts.” He said slowly, not meeting your gaze. You hesitated, after two years when you were near ready to give up, now he was ready to try?

“Oh, for the love of— fine.” You said, pinching the ridge of your nose. Out of all his odd behaviours you beared witness to, this one was the oddest. But you had to meet him halfway. “Let’s just make this quick, please.”

Without another word, he grabbed your wrist and tugged you over to your balcony. Did he truly climb up?! Did he expect you to do the same?!

The duke seemed to have the same train of thought as he stopped for a moment. He glanced back at you and you resisted the urge to not say something snide when he slowly ran his gaze over you. You almost wanted to throw yourself off the balcony for the judgement his gaze created.

Instead, he turned and dragged you through your estate. He led you out through the back doors out into the gardens. A part of you questioned how he knew your estate so well despite only coming over once. He seemed to know every turn and hall and room.

You dismissed your thoughts. He was an odd man by nature. He led you through the gardens, ignoring the surprised stares of your servants following you. He led you through the gardens and back into the woods.

For a long while, he dragged you through the woods in silence. His hurried pace made animals run to their burrows, familiar with the sounds of a man on a hunt. Hunting for what however, you hadn’t a clue.

After a while, he finally spoke. “Do you want me to be happy? Do you truly want me to be happy?” He asked, not looking back at you.

You clicked your tongue in irritation. Did he truly doubt that after all the attempts you had made to make his days a little better? “I would prefer it if you were. It would make your life easier and hopefully our interactions less vexing.” You sighed. “What is even going on? Where are we going?”

The duke opened his mouth to answer, but closed it before any sound escaped. He didn’t answer your question.

After walking a bit further, you spotted something between the trees. As you drew closer, the sight became clearer. It was fallen ruins, golden light filtering through the cracks and holes. He dragged you closer to it. This was what he was looking for.

“I’ve never been here before.” You murmured to yourself as you stare, brows furrowed. You turn your gaze back to him. “Where are we. Why are we here?”

Again, your questions were left unanswered and ignored. He dragged you up to the crumbling steps into the ruins and dragged you inside. You marvelled over the ruins as he dragged you in.

Decaying archways and moss clinging to cobblestone. Faded paint and sun filtering in from above through the cracks and crevices in the ceiling. It was hauntingly beautiful. You gaped as you glanced around.

“This place is magnificent.” You whisper softly.

He only hummed in response, distracted as he looked around. His head jerked over to an open doorway and dragged you over.

You quickly stumbled after him, tripping on the cracks on the floor and fallen stone. You gasped softly as he pulled you into the room.

This room is just as beautiful as the first. Torn tapestries, cracked marble, what was left of a golden throne. The gold was tarnished and the dents where jewels had once been embedded were left empty.

You were beginning to suspect that this was one of the old kingdoms, lost to time or to new lands to rule. You had never thought one may lay so close to you estate. How many times had you ventured the woods without finding this.

However, it still raised the question, why were you brought here and how did the duke know if its presence?

He finally released your arm and walked over to the alcove of a fallen statue. A old god of mythology. He barely glanced at the statue laying on the ground as he stepped over it.

He leaned down and dug around in the growing lush of nature sinking its roots into the stone. He grabbed something you couldn’t see and pulled harshly on it.

Then he turned back to you, staring down at what he held. It looked to be some kind of potato, roots still attached. He looked slightly nervous as he swallowed and held it out to you.

You raised a brow, turning your attention away from the cracked face of a god. “Is this why you brought me out here? To give me a potato?” You asked. You felt silly and incredulous at the offer, but you took it anyway. He only stared at you.

“Are you feeling alright?” You finally asked after a period of silence. Your brow raised further as concern crossed over your face. “You’re not acting quite well. Please don’t tell me you’ve gone around the bend. This marriage is on the rocks already, I don’t wish to send you to an asylum.”

The duke seemed to take your concern in stride. He offered a brief, quiet laugh to brush aside your concern. He took a deep breath.

“I am the duke of this land. And yet, I have never had anyone love me for who I am and not what this title gives me. Not my parents, not my half siblings, not the court, not even the emperor. But you have shown a kindness towards me that I am not accustomed to.” He said. “You have shown me kindness that only one other has shown me. I know it’s odd, I know it’s silly, but I need to know my efforts won’t go to waste. Do you want me to be happy?”

You nodded slowly, unsure of where this was going or how to take his behaviour.

“Then eat it.” He said simply, his posture relaxing. “You have the gift of making me remember what it felt like to be loved when my wife was still alive. She was the only one who loved me for me.”

“When we were kids, we found this and to mark our love, we both ate a potato. I do warn you, it is a rancid thing to taste.” He said. He stared intently at you. “If you can give me a personal gesture and eat a potato for me, I can try.”

“So this is a sort of initiation for becoming truly wedded in your eyes?” You said uncertainly. You really didn’t want to eat the potato, but you would if he tried. Anything to save this failing marriage.

“If you want to view it like that.” He said simply. His gaze was blank and unblinking, a bit like an owl late at night.

“O-okay…” you said slowly. You hesitated for a moment, but you finally raised the potato up to your lips. The potato was hard and and bitter on your tongue as you bit into it.

He saw the very moment the taste hit your tongue and for a moment, he saw his wife. He saw Lily, hair as white as snow and growing long to her ankles. He saw her violet eyes squeeze shut and her face screwed up. He remembered laughing at her expression before he too faced the harsh taste.

He blinked and Lily was gone and you stood in her stead. Your face was pinched and you chewed slowly before swallowing the potato down. You tried to hide the shudder that wracked down your spine.

“Unique flavour.” You said, clearing your throat as the mushy insides coated the inside.

“Like I said, it’s rancid.” He said as he stepped closer. He took the potato and bit into it like it was a shiny, red apple. His eye twitched as he chewed and swallowed much quicker than you did. Then he threw the half eaten potato back into the alcove.

“Are you truly going to make good on your promise?” You asked, staring up at him. He hummed and nodded.

“You ate the potato. I don’t want us to be strangers anymore. I want to love you like I love my wife.” He said like it was the most obvious thing in the world. What an odd man you had been wedded to.

“That was really all it took?” You sighed. “I would deeply enjoy being in a loving marriage, but don’t rush yourself. Our kingdoms weren’t built in a day and love does not bud overnight.”

“I will keep that in mind.” He replied, smiling slightly. It was barely a smile, just the corners of his lips twitching up, but it made you happy.

You nodded. “Alright. Let’s get along then, we may be wedded, but I would prefer there be no rumours of us having our way in the woods.”

His smile grew slightly and he nodded, leading you back out of the ruins, much more relaxed than when he had rushed you inside. You looked back at the ruins.

“How did you even know this laid here? I’ve never come across such a treasure in all my years. Beautiful ruins lost to nature…” you murmured, trying not to trip over your feet as you walked backward, trying to take in every last detail of the dirty stone.

“As I already said, my wife and I found it when we were young. We loved coming out here to get away and just be together.” He said. He glanced back at the ruins, a true smile on his lips. A sweet, fond smile. “If our parents had permitted so, we would have been wedded here.”

“I can understand why you both loved it, it’s a beautiful sight.” You said softly, observing his soft expression. “If… If I may be so bold, may I ask about your wife? I wish to know more.”

“You may be so bold. She… Her name was Lily. She was the most beautiful woman in the world to me.” He said wistfully, walking on a set path even as his gaze grew distant. You quickly followed after him. “We got married young, when we were kids really. Everyone thought we were crazy, but our love for each other never wavered. She was there for me when no one else was, and she was my best friend.”

“She sounds like a lovely woman.” You commented, turning your gaze to the canopy of leaves above, packed in together by the close trees. Sunlight dappled through the small spot where leaves did not overlap and birds tweeted, happily singing their songs.

The duke followed your gaze up to the trees. “She loved the birds. All kinds. Common sparrows, crows, peacocks, chickens.” He let out a soft noise that sounded suspiciously like a chuckle. “She fed them whenever she could and after a while, she couldn’t walk outside without them flocking to her.”

“I am truly sorry she was taken so early in life. It is a senseless tragedy.” You said quietly, unsure if your words would bring back his coldness. He had claimed that he would give the marriage, the relationship, a try, but you couldn’t help to be cautious. “You should have been able to live a long life with her. I curse the gods for reaping her life, they did not need her as much as you did.”

The duke nodded in acceptance as he listened to your words. “I hated the gods for taking her. I still hate them.” He paused for a moment, eyes flickering over to you. You didn’t object his words. If he hated the gods, it was within his right, you were no nun or priest or disciple of the gods.

Once you don’t refute his words, he looks back to the trees, but his eyes darken despite the sunlight shining down. “Sometimes I wonder if they punished her for loving me, since everyone else was too greedy to see anything besides my name.”

You hummed, mulling over his words with a thoughtful expression. “I wouldn’t be surprised. The gods themselves are nothing more than greedy bastards who cannot stand anyone being loved more than they are.”

You shook your head with a sigh, trying to find the positive side of this situation if there was one to be found.

“Well, I suppose she’ll be waiting for you when your time comes, with a halo and great wings. She’ll be the most beautiful angel in the sky.” You finally say.

He nodded. “I suppose.” He said. “I wish to hold her one more time, but I believe your words earlier were true. Cruel, but also awakening. Lily wouldn’t want me to despair over her.”

“Thank you for showing that to me.” He smiled at you, that sweet, fond smile. “Sometimes life is cruel. But it’s people like you that make it so beautiful. In some way, you remind me of her.”

You smile and a soft giggle escaped you. “You flatter me with your kind words, I do not measure.” You say. “But either way, I hope our relationship can grow, I hope our love can bloom like a red rose.”

You pressed a soft kiss to his cheek as you come back to the edge of your gardens. He tilted his head. Then he leaned forward and pressed an equally soft kiss to your own cheek. This isn’t a passionate, lustful kiss. This is a gentle, tender kiss.

He smiled sweetly at you, his eyes focused solely on you. You had found him in his self made out of despair and dragged him out of it and into the bright sun.

“I look forward to it.”

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere x you #the duke #original character #writing #platonic yandere #platonic yandere x reader

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bittersweet-innocence · 2 years ago

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I was gonna write and post today about my sugarbaby yandere because I love Baby, but I got inspired by a dream I had and now I might just write a platonic(?) yandere with like a duke or something. You married him after his wife died and he kinda hates you, but it grows into love? But like platonic love because he can’t bring himself to love anyone like he loved his wife, but at the same time he’s still obsessed with you and everything about you??? I dunno. I may just say this and nothing come out of it, but I’m really vibing with the thought.

#me #yandere #yandere oc

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bittersweet-innocence · 2 years ago

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Princess

CW: passing mentions of blood, age difference

WC: 853 (this is more of a drabble than a actual intro fic)

Gender Neutral Reader with passing mentions of Female Reader

Princess who has come to your kingdom as a refugee after the death of her parents and the takeover of her kingdom. You’re a noble/ruler of your own kingdom.

You came to her rescue and saved her from the tyrants looking to kill her. How could you let her die? Her mother was your best friend. Her father someone you had known for decades. You had known her since her birth. You couldn’t let her die, you refused to let such a cage happen to such a kind soul and the only living blood relative of your friends.

You swore when you found her hiding in the burned gardens, covered in the blood of servants and knights, shaking and terrified into silence that you would help her get her kingdom back. But as time passed, she never seemed very interested in reclaiming her kingdom.

She followed you around as much as you let her when she wasn’t busy with lessons. She’s very open about her supposed love and adoration for you.

You don’t entertain Princess and her wiles. You’re almost as old as her parents if not as old as them before their passing and you had very little interest in romance with even less suitors chasing you after so many years of ruling on your own. You also know that she is better suited with someone her own age. You offer her nothing but graying hairs. Does she not realize how much she is known and desires through both your kingdom and in her old kingdom? She doesn’t care. She wants you.

Princess steadily grows more and more daring and bold with her attempts to seduce you into her bed. Princess who openly glares at any court member who stares at you for a moment too long. Princess who allows you into her room whilst she’s getting dressed, wearing her thin nightgown or just her undergarments (she swears it was an accident! She thought you were the maid! But while you’re here, you can help her lace up her corset). Princess who also regularly walks into your room when you’re changing.

She claims that she just forgets her manners, but you occasionally hear her bragging to the other princesses of the court that she’s seen your chest. She brags that they only get to see a polished, perfected version of you while she gets something more raw.

(I’m not a huge fan of a princess harem regarding Princess and her noble, but I do laugh at the thought of the other princesses becoming obsessed, especially if it’s a female or afab reader. You’re surprised about one princess breaking away from the chosen path of a woman, but six to ten others? Oh, you are shocked. You’re also shocked that you’re apparently so desirable.)

Princess who begs and cries for you to let her become your queen. She won’t go so far as to throw tantrums, but she will certainly pout and make your life difficult by being rude and crass and everything a princess shouldn’t. Honestly, the only way to fix Princess is to either give her what she wants, or maybe just give her a spanking to correct her behaviour.

Hell, that might not even work anyway. It’ll just rile her up more, she think she’s winning you over, getting under your skin.

You’ll never do it. Beside your own moral compass, you dread the reaction from the courts. Made up of old fools who would happily drop their haggard wives for any young princess to glance their way, most of them would probably congratulate you while others would scorn you for living their dreams.

You’d never hear the end of it. And if you are a woman, the courts would never allow it. Again, old perverted fools who see no point to two women being together. They would laugh you out of the court and drag your name through the mud.

You cannot allow that to happen! If such a thing were to, Princess could kiss her kingdom goodbye forever. Little do you know beyond your surface suspicions, she really doesn’t care for getting her kingdom back. She had already planned on bargaining with her parents to be wedded to you. (If this was set in modern times, she would have a PowerPoint with ninety-two slides) The only thing she wants in this life is to be your bride.

She’s possessive and territorial even more behind your back than she is to your face. She doesn’t quite understand the principles of being a princess and the ladylike behaviour that should follow it, so she would absolutely get her hands bloody for you. All she asks is for your love in return.

Please kiss her bloodied knuckles and help your out of her dress, heavy with soaked blood. Please don’t abandon her, please let her be the one for you. Even if you don’t love her back, let her live her life being your oblivious bride. She is born of great blood, a princess and the last of her bloodline, but she would give it all up for her noble’s kiss.

#very short but i wanted to talk about Princess #yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere x you #princess #writing #original character

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bittersweet-innocence · 2 years ago

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Ghost Lover

CW: Yandere, light mentions of death, eating pussy/ass

WC: 1,088

Gender Neutral Reader (No descriptions)

You felt him before you even woke, a cold breeze, a brisk chill of ice brushing against your skin. It pulled you out of your muddled dreams filled with billowing wisps and echoing voices.

You clung to sleep, burying your face into your pillow even as the chill solidified against you, within you. You refused to open your eyes and acknowledge him. It didn’t matter he knew you were awake, he always seemed to know.

His hands tightened on your hips, his palms somewhat solid against your skin even as his fingers flickered between being solid and phasing through your skin as he focused solely on keeping his tongue solid within you. He hummed softly, his voice airy and distorted to your ears, carrying in a breeze that didn’t exist.

Once he knew you were awake, he buried his tongue deeper, no longer willing to just tease you. It felt like a popsicle buried within you and goosebumps raced across your skin.

You gasped softly, clenching around him as the chill made your skin all the more sensitive to his spectral touch.

He twisted his tongue, searching for your sweet spots, his tongue rolling over and over inside you. You couldn’t open your eyes now even if you wanted, knowing if you dared to look at him his head would be spinning round and round without his body following.

You could barely deal with him coming back from the grave. His first appearance back had been levitating over you in bed, a horrible way to wake up and something he regularly apologized for, but to see his head coming out of your stomach while he buried his tongue inside you almost made you vomit the first time he ate you out like this.

You rolled onto your back, feeling him phase through you in surprise as you moved. He quickly adjusted and pushed his tongue back into you.

“Sorry.” You muttered. “I was sleeping on my side all night and it kinda hurts.”

“It’s fine.” He mumbled. “Doesn’t bother me none.”

His hands left your hips as he spoke, trailing up your stomach to your pebbled nipples. He pinched your nipples, gently tugging on them as he chuckled lowly, the sound thrumming through your insides.

“Ah, uh.. wow, you’re getting good at that.” You say softly as your breath picks up. He hums again, his tongue pressing hard to your sweet spot. You moan softly and squirm under his cold touch.

“I’ve been practicing.” He murmurs, sighing his icy breath into you. It takes effort for your hips not to jump away from the invading cold.

You chuckle, finally opening your eyes as you stare up at your ceiling. “Does that mean I have broken cups to clean up when I get out of bed?” You ask.

When he had first come back he had been wholly intangible, much to his dismay, and so you practiced with cups and mugs to regain some of his solid form. You felt him grin from within you, a bizarre feeling that made your stomach flip.

“No, I took care of it already. No broken cups today.” He responds softly. “I just wanna see you cum. It’s the least I can do until I can fuck you again.”

You roll your eyes, he was needy enough as is, you could imagine how’d he be once he could fuck you again. He’d rut you day and night once he had the chance.

You moaned, your eyes slipping closed again as your hand went down on instinct to tangle in his hair. Your hand went straight through him and his tongue dissipated like smoke within you. You whined and dropped your hand down by your side.

“Sorry”. You mumbled.

“It’s fine. Don’t apologize.” He said as his tongue reformed inside. His hand found you and his fingers entwined with yours. He gently squeezed your hand as he worked his tongue deeper.

You would have made a remark about him trying to bury himself into your stomach, but your stomach was twisting. You moaned, letting your mouth hang open with soft pants as your hips rolled forward.

You caught him off guard and a short sound of surprise left his lips. He quickly recovered from his surprise and his tongue lapped harder, desperately drinking you down like you were the last thing he’d ever experience.

You shuddered, grip on his hand tightening. While his death hadn’t been fun by any means, you certainly were having fun with his newfound chill. It worked wonders inside you and you found yourself squeezing your eyes shut as your moans rose in volume, chasing his touch as pleasure mounted like the wave of a tsunami.

It crashed upon you and you were left, hips rutting through his ghostly form as pleasure drowned you in its electric shock. Your back arched and you moaned his name, fingers slipping through his hand as he got lost in your pulsating twitches against his tongue.

It was overwhelming, too cold, but your body felt like it was on fire. Too much touch inside you, but you wished you could feel all of him. It lasted too long, but ended too short.

Your body finally relaxed as your orgasm released its grip. Your hips dropped back down onto the bed as you panted, chest heaving as giggles bubbled in your chest.

“Fucking Christ.” You finally said between pants. “I’m never one to turn down a treat, but you may be getting too good at that. I’m seeing spots.”

He floated over you, hovering just out of your reach as he grinned down at you. “No such thing as too good. I will only be too good once if I kill you. And that’s only ‘cause then you can actually beat the shit out of me.”

You scoffed up at him. “Already ruining the mood.” You grumble. “If you kill me during sex, you will never know peace.”

His grin only widened. “Nonsense. Then we could exist together once again and go to the afterlife to live the life we should have been given.”

You glare up at him. “Will that be before or after they find my dead body naked and having died during sex? That’s the most embarrassing way to die.”

You put your hands up, picturing the headline. “Local loon dies from orgasm. Details inside. I would find a way to kill you myself, screw a fucking stroke.”

“Harsh.” He said, smiling all the same. “Come on, your breakfast is eating cold.”

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere x you #ghost lover #writing #original character #he’s not super yan here but trust me he’s loony

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bittersweet-innocence · 2 years ago

Text

Questionable Therapist

CW: Yandere, manipulation, mentioned/implied toxic relationships, mentioned isolation, slight power imbalance, implied dacryphilia, poorly written smut (fingering, loss of virginity), light masochism, light overstimulation, light implied internalized misogyny.

WC: 3,257

Fem!Reader with light descriptions

Today was gonna be the day, he swore it. It was all going to be worth it. He had been a good therapist until he met her. Then all those years went flying out the window. All of that he learned for helping others turned to honeyed manipulation on his tongue whenever she came into his office, timid and mousey and surrounded by horrible people.

She truly had terrible luck to surround herself with such rotten people, blinded to their abuse. Slowly he had set about isolating her simply to him, trimming the weeds to the toxicity in her life.

Even if his intentions weren’t as pure as they should have been, he had to admit, she looked better. She may have still been shy and skittish, but she steadily grew happier without their poison in her life.

Today she had shown up in a cute little outfit. A cute little shirt with a frilly collar and a pink skirt that fell halfway down her thighs. She had even put her hair up into a ponytail with a pink bow. She looked divine, she looked healthy. She smiled easier now, she had finally fallen into a good eating schedule and had gained a few necessary pounds. A little bit more work and he would have her on a set bedtime. But he couldn’t help himself anymore, he had to push things along before he lost his mind fucking his hand at every given chance.

Today was the day he would prune her of the last of the nasty parasites she called friends. This one would be the toughest, he knew that. She had known this friend for the longest and her emotions were deeply rooted.

He knew it would be hard, but the moment he say the tears shining in her eyes, he pulled her into his lap with soft, cooing words. It was so easy to groom her into wanting to be in his lap and she so eagerly climbed into his warm embrace even when he was the one making her cry.

His stomach churned. He was no better than the rest of the people in her life, making her cry and manipulating her for his own happiness. That was okay though, he only had to manipulate her until he had her safely under control, then he would treat her like the spoiled princess she deserved to be.

He cooed over her for a few minutes, resisting the urge to lick up her tears as her hands swiped at her eyes. However, during these few minutes, he couldn’t help but notice how warm she felt. Particularly her cunt pressed to his leg, just beside his half hard cock. She always felt warm pressed against him, but she practically felt scorching. Then he felt it, a slight twitch against his leg and realization dawned on him. This slut wasn’t wearing any panties and her cunt was twitching against his leg as he rubbed this thumb across her cheek.

A wild grin grew on his lips as he moved his hand to pull up her skirt, his boldest move. Her reaction was slow and by the time she realized what he was doing and squeaked as she pulled her skirt back down, he had already seen her princess cunt. He hummed softly as he smiled at her. She avoided his gaze, staring down at her lap with a red face.

He put his hand under her chin and tilted her head up, gently commanding her to look at him. Her lips poured softly as she finally looked up at him. He teased her shamelessly about being inappropriate as if he hadn’t crossed every line of professionalism and appropriateness. He released her chin and turned his gaze back to her skirt, slipping his hand under her skirt. Her legs squeezed right around his wrist, but he only slipped in deeper until his fingers reached her burning cunt.

She squeaked and shyly hid her face in his neck. His grin only grew, she was wet. Maybe not sopping wet, but wet nonetheless. He cooed mockingly at her.

“Aw, did you get excited from sitting on my lap?” He laughed, idly running his fingers up and down her labia, pointedly ignoring her clit.

She only whined, hips tensing and he felt her cunt twitch again. He saw his next opportunity to not only get rid of her friend, but to also bend her to his will. Sex was an easy form of control and one he looked forward to enjoy.

“Ah, I get it now. You like being picked on, don’t you? You like it when your friend gets nasty and when I yell at you for not getting rid of them.” He croons, flashing his teeth in a wide grin. She shook her head, denying it with mumbling words.

“No, I don’… I hate it when people yell at me…” she mumbled.

“Then you like the attention. Any attention is good attention as long as you get what you want.” He chuckled lowly. “Oh, baby. All you had to do was ask.”

He leaned over and grabbed something from his little box of tricks. He could feel her curiously peering over his shoulder and he grinned as he pulled out a blue dildo. Her eyes widened and her face grew red.

“W-what?” She squeaked, eyes locked onto the dildo. He felt a purr of satisfaction at her response. The dildo was actually a mold of his own cock, but she didn’t have to know that yet. He pulled her closer, forcing her back into a curve so her cunt was tilted up towards him.

“I’ll give you all the attention you want, baby. I’ll make you cry and beg.” He teased, lightly running the dildo tip up her leg and under her skirt. Once again her legs squeezed around his wrist, but this time her hands grabbed at his arm too.

“W-wait! Wait! It won’t fit!” She said, trying to push his hand away. His grin only grew. She was going to be the death of him.

“Nonsense. You’re just being shy. Let me take care of you, darling.” He crooned softly, brushing his lips over her ears. She shivered and gasped airily, her eyes fluttering.

“Ah… no, no, I’ve never…” she trailed off for a few moments, hesitating. He paused for a moment, waiting to hear her out even as his head screamed to just shove the entire cock inside her. “I’ve never had sex before… a-and I only use my fingers when I… touch myself.” She mumbled, her words soft and shy.

He felt his head rush and his cock throb and worried for a moment that he would pass out. She was perfect. Sweet, timid, beautiful little virgin and she was all his for the taking.

He hummed softly. “Alright. Then we’ll start off smaller.” He set the dildo to the side for a moment and knocked her legs open. They fell easily to the sides and her head tilted against his shoulder. She was curious. He ran his fingertips up and down her thighs, teasing her just to see her cunt twitch further.

She whimpered and whined softly, but he waited until her hips started to rock, looking for relief. He gave her an ounce of mercy and finally dragged his fingers across her cunt.

First, over her labia then he slipped between her folds, feeling her wet slick cling to his skin. She gasped softly and her leg moved up, wanting to press closed again. His free hand wrapped around her back and grabbed onto her thigh, digging into her soft flesh. He could drool over the way his fingers dug into her skin, plushness spilling between his fingers, but he turned his attention back to her cunt.

His middle finger circled around her clit lightly, teasing her with tickling touches. She huffed into his shoulder. He hummed softly as his fingers dragged along her cunt down to her slit. He gently tried to push in his middle finger, but met resistance.

She sucked in a breath and her hips tried to jerk away from his touch. He had to swallow back even more drool. She couldn’t even fit his middle finger. He tried his ring finger before trying his pinky.

Finally his pinky finger managed to slip into her warm, tight cunt. His cock throbbed and he doubted the dildo would even get used the way his body ached for her. He fingered her with his pinky, pushing in as deep as he could to graze her g-spot.

She gasped softly and her hips rolled shyly against his hand, looking for more. He tried to push his ring finger in alongside his pinky. It took some gently rubbing and slick and a few hissing gasps as she was stretched, but his ring finger finally worked inside. She moaned, her first actual moan, and let her head fall back as his fingers filled her.

His hands were much bigger than hers and she had never been brave enough to use toys in fear of stretching herself loose and ruining her virginity. She was happy it was him fingering her on his lap, he was so kind and he cared for her and she would be lying if she said that she hadn’t been fucking herself to the thought of him for weeks now.

He eagerly fingered her and scissored her open, her moans and gasps music to his ears. Oh, he was gonna make her scream his name until she sobbed.

He slammed his fingers into her cunt, fingers curling awkwardly to suit her curved posture. Finally he clicked his tongue, this position wasn’t working.

He moved quick and she was bent over his lap before she could even make a sound of protest at the loss of his fingers as they slipped free. He crossed his legs, ignoring the way it crushed his cock and laid her across his lap.

Her hands found his pant leg and clung onto it, eyes wide with surprise while her feet scrambled on the ground for balance. With her ass tipped toward the ceiling, he pushed his fingers back inside her, three this time, pushing her limits.

She gasped and whined, fisting his pants as her cunt clenched around his fingers, burning from the stretch. He tensed his arm and let his muscles start to tremble, making his fingers vibrate within her. She moaned, her eyes slipping shut as she bathed in the pleasure he forced onto her body. It hurt his arm to be so tense for so long, but it was more than worth it as her moan steadily rose in volume.

Her shyness fell away as her hips began to roll back against his fingers, searching for more. He finally let his arm relax as he switched back to thrusting his fingers into her. She moaned, her voice cracking as she threw her head back, eyes opening dazed and unfocused as her legs started to shake, trying to keep her ass up for him.

That dildo wasn’t going to be used. He wasn’t going to be able to wait a single day more to feel her cunt squeezing around his cock. He shoved a forth finger into her and she panted, dropping her head back down.

Her legs shook harder and after a moment, she gave up and let them go limp. She put her hands on the floor to keep herself from sliding off his lap and away from the pleasure his fingers were inflicting upon her.

He waited for a moment to let her adjust to the stretch of his fingers, but she pushed her hips back incessantly, cunt clenching and twitching.

“Don’t…! Don’t stop!” She pleaded, her voice high and whiny. She gasped and panted, her hips unrelenting as she rolled back over and over again to be fucked how she wanted.

He bit his lip as his fingers starting thrusting again, fingerfucking her harder. He had been wondering if he was pushing her too hard, but if she wanted to be fucked like a slut, he would fuck her like a slut.

He fucked his fingers into her roughly, letting her jolt on his lap with each thrust. She moaned higher and higher, her eyes slipping shut again as they rolled back into her head. He bit his lip harder, feeling the dull ache of pain as he watched her body react to his touch like she was being zapped by electricity.

Her moans grew louder and louder until she gasped, her body tensing up as her cunt spasmed around his fingers erratically, her legs tensing and squeezing tight, feet lifting off the floor as she locked his wrist in place.

His eyes grew wide and his cock ached painfully, pressed to his zipper. She came. She fucking came just from him fingering her, he didn’t even touch her clit and here she was, laying limp across his lap, trying to catch her breath as her cunt lazily pulsed around his fingers in the last few waves of her orgasm.

He only gave her a few moments to recover before he slipped his fingers out of her cunt, ignoring her pathetic whine. He brought his hand up, spreading his fingers and watching the slick string between his fingers. He shoved his fingers into his mouth, moaning with delight as her taste spread over his tongue.

He eagerly sucked on her fingers, desperately drinking down her taste. He sucked on his fingers until the taste was gone and he knew he needed more, he felt like he could get addicted to her taste and her noises and everything about her as if he wasn’t already obsessed with her entire being.

He slipped his arms under he stomach and pulled her up, carrying her over to the couch she had been sitting on. He dropped her onto the couch and quickly crawled on top of her. She squeaked and grabbed one of the throw pillows, burying her blushing face into it.

Amazing, he had fingered her until she creamed and she was still so shy. He shamelessly leaned over her and ground his bulge against her ass, feeling her skirt ride up with him.

He was half tempted to keep humping her as she gasped into the pillow, but he needed her virgin cunt wrapped around his throbbing cock right now. He leaned back to undo his belt and pull his fly open. He pulled his cock out, scorching hot and heavy in his hand. He brought his tip to her cunt, dragging it up and down her lips.

His hips twitched, her heat was tantalizing. She hid her face in the pillow entirely, holding it tight.

He figured he had already prepared her enough and slipped his tip into her cunt. The moment his cock felt her slick, his hips jerked forward and he slammed into her. Fuck she was tight, too tight. She released a choked gasp, her mouth falling open as her eyes stared wide at the wall blankly.

He winced, she wasn’t ready for his cock yet. He started to pull out when her hips shot back and slammed into his with a slap.

“No! Don—nghh~ ah… d-don’t stop!” She moaned, biting her lip. “I love the pain! Don’t stop!”

His grin grew wider and he pulled back before slamming into back into her. She moaned, her eyes rolling back.

“Oh you’re such a little slut. Playing up the innocent act when you’re really just a cock hungry slut.” He growled, fucking her in earnest now that he wasn’t afraid to hurt her.

She didn’t respond, trying to suffocate her moans and pleas for more into the pillow. He glared at the back of her head. He had waited so long for this moment, he wasn’t going to let her take anything from him. He grabbed onto her ponytail, dislodging her bow, and pulled her head back.

“Don’t you dare hide from me, princess. We’re past that.” He said, staring down her at as drool dripped down her chin.

He kept one hand tangled in her ponytail while his other slipped under her thin form to her clit.

She gasped and moaned as her back arched, hips twitching back and forth as she tried to fuck herself back onto his cock and rock her clit against his hand. He panted as his cock ached and his orgasm brewed low in his stomach.

He hammered into her relentlessly, a toy for his pleasure when he remembered the other part of this. Two birds, one stone and all that.

His hand sped up on her clit and he watched her face closely, watching her orgasm draw closer and closer. He waited until the last second before he jerked his hand away.

He saw the moment her orgasm faded away and betrayal flashed across her face as she stared up at him with wide, watering eyes. What a crybaby.

“If you wanna come, you gotta block them.” He said, smirking down at her. Her brows furrowed as her mouth gaped open.

“I…” she hesitated, looking for words that would make sense outside of her mindless begging and pleas. “I can’t, I didn’t bring my phone!”

He glared down at her as his smirk soured into a frown. “Liar”. He hissed.

He dropped his weight onto her, burying his cock to the hilt inside her cunt. He reached past her to her bag on the floor as she moaned lowly. He dug around in her bag until he found her phone and pulled it out.

“Block them on everything or you don’t get to come at all.” He whispered in her ear. He dropped her phone before her as he placed his hands on either side of her head, his hips rutting against hers.

She whimpered and tried to grind back against him, but when he just forced her hips against the couch she gave in and picked up her phone.

She blocked their contact and on social media. With every time she blocked them, he started to thrust harder and harder until he was fucking her without abandon. She moaned and dropped her head against the throw pillow as she drooled.

“All. Of. Them!” He said harshly, punctuating each word with a hard slam of his hips. She sobbed.

“That’s all of them!” She gasped, tears filling her eyes as her clit ached and twitched.

“Good girl. That’s my princess.” He growled, his hand finally finding her clit again. “Only I can love you like this.”

He pinched her clit, satisfaction flowing through him from the resulting squeal and jerk of her hips. He rubbed her clit and fucked her until she came around his cock, pulsing and panting.

He came with a punched out groan, pushing his cock to the hilt and filling her ruined cunny with his seed. He panted for a few moment before he grabbed her leg and rolled her onto her back.

He stared down at her tear filled eyes and mouth dripping with drool. He chuckled lowly as he pushed his dick back into her, ignoring her gasp of overstimulation.

“Tsk, it’s too bad I have to punish you. I won’t tolerate a liar, baby.” He ignored her pleas and clumsy hands trying to push him away as he set about filling her again, grinning once she gave into his touch again. Only he would love her like this and she didn’t need anyone else.

#yandere #yandere oc #yandere x reader #yandere x you #questionable therapist #writing #original character

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