TWISTED WONDERLAND: RENT-A-GIRLFRIEND AU
RENT-A-BOYFRIEND.COM/SIGN-UP/JOINFREE
WELCOME TO NRC RENT A BOYFRIEND!! THE ONLY WEBSITE TO FIND LOVE AND LUST AND CHOOSE THE BEST BOYFRIEND! MAYBE TO MAKE YOUR FRIENDS JEALOUS! OR MAKE YOUR MOTHER HAPPY! ANYTHING YOU DESIRE, CROWLEY WILL MAKE IT HAPPEN!
SIGN UP NOW!!
! BECOME A PREMIUM MEMBER !
WE HAVE A WIDE SELECTION OF BOYFRIENDS, CHOOSE YOUR FAVORITE!
CATEGORY: HEARTSLABYUL
! BEST SELLER ! RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS | 22 | COLLEGE STUDENT: MAJOR: LAW | 160CM ~ 5’2FT | ORDERLY |
A CUTE YET STERN MAN, WHO ALWAYS DOES HIS BEST TO PLEASE HIS PATNER. A MAN OF STRUCTURE AND ORDER! WITH LARGE EMBITIONS, ALWAYS THERE TO PROVE HES THE BEST FOR YOU.
TREY CLOVER | 23 | BAKER | 181CM ~ 5’9FT | CALM |
WITH JUST THE SWEETEST HEART AND THE TASTEST OF TREATS. HE IS THE ABSOLUTE DREAM TO IMPRESS FRIENDS AND FAMILY WITH THE SWEETEST LOVER.
CATER DIAMOND | 23 | INFULENCER | 176CM ~ 5’7FT | SOCIAL |
A SOCIAL BUTTERFLY THAT SEEMS TO BE IN MULTIPLE PLACES AT ONCE. HE’S THE LIFE OF THE PARTY AND IS SUCH A PLAYFUL PERSON. HE’S LOVES FUN.
ACE TRAPPOLA | 19 | COLLEGE STUDENT: MAJOR: UNDECIDED | 172CM ~ 5’6FT | SOFTIE |
SEEN AS A FLIRT AND MEAN, YET GIVEN THE CHANCE HE ABSOLUTELY MELTS FOR YOU. HE’LL DO ANYTHING TO MAKE SURE YOUR HAPPY!
DEUCE SPADE | 20 | COLLEGE STUDENT: MAJOR: UNDECIDED | 173CM ~ 5’6FT | DEDICATED |
THE MOST LOYAL BOYFRIEND YOULL EVER HAVE. HE IS THE SWEETEST AND MOST DEDICATED BOYFRIEND THAT ALWAYS PUTS YOU FIRST!
POPULAR HEARTSLABYUL POLY OPTIONS:
RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS AND TREY CLOVER
RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS, TREY CLOVER, AND CATER DIAMOND
TREY CLOVER AND CATER DIAMOND
RIDDLE ROSEHEARTS AND ACE TRAPPOLA
! BEST SELLER ! DEUCE SPADE AND ACE TRAPPOLA
! CUSTOMIZE YOUR PAIRING !
! CHOOSE YOUR BOYFRIEND !
══════ ♡ ══════
CATEGORY: SAVANNACLAW
! BEST SELLER ! !PREMIUM! LEONA KINGSCHOLAR | 25 | UNEMPLOYED | 185CM ~ 6’0FT | LAZY |
A LAZY RICH BEASTMEN. A LION AMONGST GAZELLE. HE’S COCKY, CONFIDENT, AND SMART. HE’S LOW MAINTENANCE YET THE BEST YOU COULD EVER HAVE.
RUGGIE BUCCHI | 23 | WAITER | 171CM ~ 5’6FT | SNEAKY |
HE’S A MISCHIEVOUS HYENA BEASTMAN. ONE WHO ENJOYS LAUGHING, YET IS QUITE HELPFUL! ONCE YOU GET PAST THE MISCHIEF YOULL SEE HOW GREAT HE IS.
JACK HOWL | 20 | ATHLETE | 192CM ~ 6’2FT | LOYAL |
A LOYAL WOLF BEASTMEN THAT IS QUITE INTIMIDATING! YET HE HAS A HEART OF GOLD AND A COMPLETE MIND OF JUSTICE! HE’S ABSOLUTELY TRUSTWORTHY AND WILL MAKE SURE TO ALWAYS PROTECT YOU!
POPULAR SAVANNACLAW POLY OPTIONS:
! BEST SELLER ! LEONA KINGSCHOLAR AND RUGGIE BUCCHI
LEONA KINGSCHOLAR AND JACK HOWL
LEONA KINGSCHOLAR, RUGGIE BUCCHI, AND JACK HOWL
! CUSTOMIZE YOUR PAIRING !
! CHOOSE YOUR BOYFRIEND !
══════ ♡ ══════
CATEGORY: OCTAVINELLE
AZUL ASHENGROTTO | 23 | RESTAURANT OWNER | 176CM ~ 5’7FT | CHARMING |
AN ACCOMPLISHED YOUNG MAN WITH A SUAVE PERSONALITY, YET BEYOND HIS EXTERIOR, HE’S A HUGE SOFTIE THAT LOVES COLLECTING COINS!
JADE LEECH | 23 | RESTAURANT CO-OWNER | 190CM ~ 6’2FT | SLY |
A QUIET YET INTIMIDATING MAN THAT LOVES HIKING AND MUSHROOMS WITH AN ODD PERSONALITY. YOULL BE IN FOR A FUN TIME!
! BEST SELLER ! FLOYD LEECH | 23 | WHATEVER HE WANTS | 191CM ~ 6’2FT | ROWDY |
IF YOU LOVE CHAOS, THEN YOULL LOVE HIM. HE’S FUN, SIGHTLY DANGEROUS. IN A FUN WAY. *Please note that any dangerous acts will not be the fault of NRC and remain within your hands*
POPULAR OCTAVINELLE POLY OPTIONS:
! BEST SELLER ! AZUL ASHENGROTTO, JADE LEECH, AND FLOYD LEECH
JADE LEECH AND FLOYD LEECH
AZUL ASHENGROTTO AND FLOYD LEECH
! CUSTOMIZE YOUR PAIRING !
! CHOOSE YOUR BOYFRIEND !
══════ ♡ ══════
CATEGORY: SCARABIA
!PREMIUM! KALIM AL-ASIM | 22 | HEAD OF THE AL-ASIM FAMILY | 168CM ~ 5’5FT | PLAYFUL |
PURE SUNSHINE THAT LOVES TO SPOIL OTHERS. IF YOU WANT A LAVISH LIFE, HE CAN ABSOLUTELY PROVIDE! HE’S AN ABSOLUTE DARLING AND COMPLETELY AND UTTERLY HONEST.
! BEST SELLER ! JAMIL VIPER | 22 | — | 175CM ~ 5’7FT | QUIET |
A MAN WHO CAN DO IT ALL. IF YOU LIKE MYSTERIOUS MEN WITH A SOFT SIDE, HE’S THE PERFECT OPTION FOR YOU.
POPULAR SCARABIA POLY OPTIONS:
! BEST SELLER ! KALIM AL-ASIM AND JAMIL VIPER
! CUSTOMIZE YOUR PAIRING !
! CHOOSE YOUR BOYFRIEND !
══════ ♡ ══════
CATEGORY: POMEFIORE
! BEST SELLER ! !PREMIUM! VIL SCHOENHEIT | 24 | ACTOR, MUSICIAN, DANCER, PERFORMER, ETC | 183CM ~ 6’0FT | REGAL |
A SERIOUS ACTOR THAT VALUES BEAUTY. HE FINDS BEAUTY IN THOSE THAT TAKE CARE OF THEMSELVES YET HE’S AN EXTRODANINARY LOVER.
ROOK HUNT | 24 | 177CM ~ 5’8FT | SEEKER OF BEAUTY | UNIQUE |
ODD AND DIFFERENT FROM THE OTHER BOYFRIENDS! IF YOU WANT SOMETHING UNIQUE THEN ROOK IS FOR YOU.
EPEL FELMIER | 19 | 156CM ~ 5’1FT | APPLE FARMER, PERFORMER | MANLY |
A MERE COUNTRY BOY THAT WORKS HARD TO BE MANLY, YET HE HAS THE SWEETEST FEMININE LOOK. THOUGH DONT MENTION IT. UNLESS YOUR REAL SPECIAL TO HIM.
POPULAR POMEFIORE POLY OPTIONS:
! BEST SELLER ! VIL SCHOENHEIT AND ROOK HUNT
VIL SCHOENHEIT AND EPEL FELMIER
VIL SCHOENHEIT, ROOK HUNT, AND EPEL FELMIER
! CUSTOMIZE YOUR PAIRING !
! CHOOSE YOUR BOYFRIEND !
══════ ♡ ══════
CATEGORY: IGNIHYDE
! BEST SELLER ! !PREMIUM! IDIA SHROUD | 23 | GAMER AND TECH ENGINEER | 183CM ~ 6’0FT | OTAKU |
NOTHING BUT A LOVESICK, ANTI-SOCIAL, ANIME LOVING OTAKU. YOULL BE HIS FAVORITE WAIFU OR HUSBANDO. SHARE IN HIS VARIOUS PASSIONS!
! CHOOSE YOUR BOYFRIEND !
══════ ♡ ══════
CATEGORY: DIASOMNIA
! BEST SELLER ! !PREMIUM! MALLEUS DRACONIA | 28 | — | 202CM ~ 6’6FT | ROYAL |
POETIC TYPE LOVER. A DARLING WITH A DRAGON LIKE PERSONALITY. SAID THAT TO BE FAE. OH, HOW SPECIAL HE IS.
!PREMIUM! LILIA VANROUGE | 31 | NEIGHBORHOOD CUTIE | 158CM ~ 5’1FT | ECCENTRIC |
CUTE! CUTE! CUTE! A CUTE BOYFRIEND FOR A CUTIE LIKE YOU. THOUGH HE HAS AN ABSOLUTELY MISCHIEVOUS SIDE.
!PREMIUM! SILVER | 23 | KNIGHT | 178CM ~ 5’8FT | SLEEPY |
SIMPLE. EASY. CALM. RELAXED SLEEPY LOVER. WITH A LOOK OF A ROYAL PRINCE. A TRUE SLEEPING BEAUTY.
SEBEK ZIGVLT | 20 | LOYAL KNIGHT OF LORD MALLEUS | 188CM ~ 6’1FT | LOUD |
YOULL ALLWAYS COME SECOND TO LORD MALLEUS. SUCH A HARD-HEADED TYPE BOYFRIEND, YET ODDLY DEDICATED TO YOU.
POPULAR DIASOMNIA POLY OPTIONS:
! BEST SELLER ! MALLEUS DRACONIA AND LILIA VANROUGE
LILIA VANROUGE AND SILVER
SILVER AND SEBEK ZIGVOLT
MALLEUS DRACONIA AND SEBEK ZIGVOLT
MALLEUS DRACONIA, LILIA VANROUGE, SILVER, AND SEBEK ZIGVOLT
! CUSTOMIZE YOUR PAIRING !
! CHOOSE YOUR BOYFRIEND !
══════ ♡ ══════
CATEGORY: RSA AND NBC COLLABS
—RSA
! BEST SELLER ! !PREMIUM! NEIGE LEBLANCHE | 24 | ACTOR, PERFORMER, MUSICIAN, ETC | 175CM ~ 5’7FT | INNOCENT |
A SWEETHEART, WHO IS SO VERY HONEST AND WANTS TO SPOIL YOU ENDLESSLY. READ POEMS, BAKE PIE, CLEAN THE HOUSE AND RELAX. SUCH A SWEETIEPIE
!PREMIUM! CHE’NYA | 25 | LOCAL DIRECTIONIST | 178CM ~ 5’8FT | LOOPY |
LAID BACK AND RELAXED. WITH AN ODDLY HORRIBLE SENSE OF DIRECTION, WHO MANAGES TO STILL FIND YOU SOMEHOW.
! CHOOSE YOUR BOYFRIEND !
—NBC
! BEST SELLER ! !PREMIUM! ROLLO FLAMM | 28 | — | 184CM ~ 6’0FT | SOFISTICATED |
NO ONE CAN MATCH HIS VERY OWN GRACE. HOW LUCKY YOU ARE TO BE WITHIN HIS VERY PRESENCES.
! CHOOSE YOUR BOYFRIEND !
…LOGGING IN…
.
.
.
.
.
.
WELCOME! TO NRC RENT-A-BOYFRIEND! I AM YOUR LOVELY HELPER, ORTHO, SO PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU LOOK LIKE! [ THE ↷ SHOWS THE OPTIONS]
PICK FROM THE OPTIONS BELOW:
HAIR COLOR ↷
EYE COLOR ↷
HEIGHT ↷
BODY TYPE ↷
PERSONALITY ↷
HOBBIES ↷
FANTASTIC! NOW TELL ME, DO YOU HAVE A FAVORITE FROM THE CATALOG?
HEARTSLABYUL↷
SAVANNACLAW↷
OCTAVINELLE↷
SCARABIA↷
POMEFIORE↷
IGNIHYDE↷
DIASOMNIA↷
RSA↷
NBC↷
AMAZING! NOW PLEASE SHARE ANY CONTACT INFORMANTION AND A INTRODUCTION ABOUT YOURSELF!
NAME:
PHONE NUMBER:
EMAIL:
INTRODUCTION:
AWESOME! WELL KEEP YOU UPDATED WHEN YOU FUTURE BOYFRIEND IS NOTIFYED TO SET UP YOUR FIRST DATE! LETS BEGIN PAYMENT SET UP!
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
HERE AT NRC, WE GUARANTEE BEST SATISFACTION!
ⓒ 2023 love-thanatopsis — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited.
1K notes
·
View notes
"NOTHING GOOD HAPPENS AFTER DARK"
RIDDLE R. v LEONA K. [MALE!READER]
ALICE IN WONDERLAND x RED RIDING HOOD [CROSSOVER]
WARNINGS: DARK CONTENT | YANDERE | VIOLENCE | PREDATOR n’ PREY | HUNTING | BLOOD | SUGGESTIVE | IMPLIED MURDER | PERSECTIVE JUMPS | SPECIES DISCRIMINATION | ETC | BE CAUTIOUS, BELOVED
T.MANOR: TRYING A NEW LAYOUT AND WRITING STYLE. ALSO, THIS IS PRETTY MESSY WRITING SO BE AWARE
| PART TWO |
| FEM!VER | GN!VER |
EVERY Tuesday, exactly at noon, does the stone clock tower chime. Without delay, you hear the sound of trumpets, the marching of hooves, as the golden gates of the palace open. Wide and big, as the card soldiers, in perfect position, march upon horses of black and white, wearing that of red with swords attached to their hips and spears within their hands. Preparing for the Queen’s weekly hunt. The crowd cheers, waves banners, as they yell sayings of good luck.
The cobblestone path is tight, crowded with people, big and small, infants to the elderly, all in hopes of seeing the benevolent Queen off. Even if this same celebration will happen next week as well. In seeing him in all his grandeur. Something you’d “sadly” miss, with your woven basket tight in hand, warm and heavy from the fresh baked delights, all from the Clover bakery. You shimmy through the tight crowd, moving in the opposite direction and were, quite frankly, in the way, even as you walk along the side house and store walls. You mummer ‘excuse me’ and apologize as you go, giving sheepish grins to those who spared you a glance.
You would rather be at home, yet you promised your mother you would go. You promised to go to the bakery, to buy your grandmother’s favorite treats and sweets and deliver them to her. She lives just outside the town and in the center of the thick woods, just on the other side in a small cottage in the middle of the northern woods. A journey you’ve made countless times, and on less crowded days. Yet today, your mother was extra worried, extra concerned for your grandmother’s well being. Even if you promised, you’d go first thing in the morning tomorrow. Yet she forced you anyway. Well, guilt-tripped you into going.
‘What if she’s already dead? Hm? What would you do then?’
Return home? Tell the authorities? Cry? Yet the look on her face told you she didn’t want any back talk, so you gave in and left.
You forced yourself further down the path, spotting the familiar opening that you’ve always taken. The town you live in is surrounded by a large stone wall. Tall and thick, with only one way out of the village, and one way in. Yet this impenetrable wall has a hole, fairly big, that anyone could fit their largest ox. So you had no trouble merely crawling or walking through. The alley that led to your secret path was uncrowded, as if waiting for you and you alone.
You shimmy forward, pushing past local residents. Some allowed room for you, having noticed you, others merely rolled their eyes. You pop your head past the road barricade, searching the long stone road. The card soldiers were far. Far away to where you could make it without interrupting them, or them even noticing you. You step over the thick string, glancing one more time, before you make haste. Darting onto the clear, wide road. Ignoring shouts and gasps as you make your way to the alley. Stopping to catch your breath, you turn around. Some of the crowd are merely laughing you off, others completely ignoring, some glared at you disappointedly, yet none made a move to call the guards on you. Your eyes scan the road. You hadn’t dropped anything, and if you did, you’re sure no one would even notice.
Slightly proud of yourself, you continue on, moving past the eccentric alley system, moving quickly past houses and shops, jogging towards the large wall.
You’d be fine.
══════ ♡ ══════
“HALT.”
The crowd becomes silent, and everything pauses. A send off has never once stopped. The Red Queen, golden crown glinting in the sun, his hand raised high. His horse stands still, the same confident and demanding energy as his owner, bows his head, as the Queen flows off the saddle. Heels clicking against the stone road. He walks forward, taking exactly five precise steps, before crouching, leather gloved fingers swiping along the stone. How he saw just a small thing, no one will ever know. The squished remains of strawberry cream cheese tart, a small delight. He rubs the cream between his fingers before rising just as quickly, holding out his hand for a napkin. It appears within a second. He turns on his heel, glaring eyes scouring the crowd, before landing on an older man.
“You! Who ran across here!?”
“Uh! I have no clue, your—your majesty.” He gives an embarrassed, clumsy bow, keeping his eyes glued to the ground. “Then you tell me?” The Queen looks at another, a young woman, who automatically stiffens her posture, face paling.
“A-a man! A young man. With—with a wooden basket and red cape.” The crowd nods along eagerly.
“In which direction?”
Multiple hands point towards the alley, all in fear to face the Queen’s wrath. With a single snap, five card soldiers appear by his side. “Search for the one with a red hood. Such disrespect shall not be tolerated.” There’s a chorus of ‘yes! your majesty.’ Yet not a soul moving til the Queen re-asummed his position upon his horse. “We will resume! While in search of this Red Hood!” His voice is thunderous, and as if nothing happened, everything returns to normal.
══════ ♡ ══════
The leaves crunch beneath your feet. As you continue your long trek, the path is winding and bumpy, covered in wild leaves and branches, the cobblestone hidden beneath the foliage. The basket sways within your hand as you walk and wander along the familiar path. The cool breeze flutters your crimson cloak, and you pull the hood to cover your head and protect your ears. Wishing to have worn pants instead of trying to be cute with your red shorts and white knee-length socks.
The Queendom is never cold, unless the Queen desires cold weather.
It always remains at the perfect temperature, always a warm summer breeze and a perfect summer day. And as you venture deeper into the woods and further away from the Queendom, the cobblestone path slowly crumbles and slowly turns to dirt. You stop at the threshold, glancing behind you. Something about today seems different.
You hope it’ll be a good day.
You venture into the woods.
══════ ♡ ══════
“Ruggie. I’m heading out. Ill be back.”
He lets out a low yawn, stretching his muscles as he walked towards the cave entrance, not giving Ruggie, his right hand, a chance to respond, leaving the hyena beastman to do whatever it is he’s doing. He pushes past the thick vines of the cave, leaving the warmth of the cave and giving a shallow nod to a young wolf beastman who currently was guarding the large camp, with the others like him. “Ill be back before dawn.”
“It’s noon? And the Queen and his guard is hunting today. Far from us, but still. Are you sur—” The lazy king gives a short wave, swatting away the beastman’s concerns, stifling another yawn, leisurely wiping tired tears from his eyes, while the wolf opened his mouth to speak.
“Jack!” The duo looks towards the urgent voices. Two young beastmen, a young tiger and an older bear, both you jogged frantically, seemingly having to run across the majority of the temporary camp. They slow to a stop, giving a quick bow to their pride leader before turning to Jack.
“The Queen’s Knights. Theres five of them! Theyre asking for you presence!”
“Of course. I’m on my way. Leona.” Jack turns to their sleepy leader, only to find the place where he stood empty. He’s brows furrow, before quickly giving up and motioning for the two to lead the way.
The Queendom of Roses and the Pride of Kingscholar. While the Queen occupies the Northern woods, the Kingscholar current occupies the East portion. Over months of arguments and fights, the Kingscholar Pride has been slowly forced to the outskirts and south, while the Queendom slowly takes over the North and East.
Jack and the two beastmen run side by side, running towards the end of the camp, coming across the five poised card guards. They all sit on white pristine horses, not moving an ounce as Jack slows and straightens out his white button-up shirt. “Where is Leona Kingscholar? We shall only speak to one of authority.” The voice is muffled by his thick metal helmet, clasping to his reins and swords.
“He’s away. What you need can be spoken back to him.” Jack crosses his arm, keeping a scowl upon his lips as the knight scoffs.
“I shouldn’t expect more from your kind,” Jack clicks his tongue but doesn’t speak, letting the knight continue, “There’s a human boy in red. He has ruined the Queen’s sendoff and thus must receive punishment. If you find him, you know best to hand him over immediately.”
“I have no such obligations.”
“Right—” You can hear the confidence in his voice, as he shifts the reins, getting ready to move, “It’s only best to consume your meat fresh. I hope you don’t get red fabric between your fangs, wolf.”Jack gives a low growl as the horse becomes spooked, rushing over, earning a yelp from the knight and gasps from the other silent four. They watch the group ride off into the forest, before letting out a huff.
“Jack. What should we do?”
The tiger beastman speaks first, which earns a thoughtful sigh from the wolf beastman. “Nothing. I’m sure Leona will find the boy before we do. Continue as you were.” Jack turns on his heels, rolling his shoulders as both boys shout and eager ‘yes’. This camp is only temporary until they reach the eastern mountain’s summit, and beyond that will be the savannas once you cross the mountains. Something Leona has been avoiding for the longest time.
══════ ♡ ══════
The farther you walk, the darker the woods get. Yet the twisting and winding path doesn’t lead you astray, a path in which you’re acquainted with. And as the trees grow closer and the leaves block the sun, it feels colder, as luminescent mushrooms and flowers that grow alongside the path glow in hints of blue and yellows, give you little light, while pollen that glows a soft purple flutters through the air. It’s absolutely enchanting, with towering thick trees and small sections which sunlight peeks through, highlighting the vibrant green plants and bushes. You hum softly, playing different games as you walk, occasionally eating one of your grandmother’s snacks.
“Youre quite far.”
You screech, nearly jumping out of your skin at the new presence of a voice. You look around and see no one. Your heart pounds against your ribcage. After a few moments, you left out a huff, slowly calming yourself.
“Especially during the Tyrant’s Hunt,” There’s a low chuckle that sends shudders down your spine and you look around frantically, “He might very well mistake you for a deer.” A rock zooms past your head, barely missing you and striking the tree behind you. Your body stiffens.
“Can you not speak?” It’s taunting and drawn out and you shiver as if ghost hands caress your body.
“What do you want—?”
“Now that is the question,” The voice lets out a low hum, and you hear the shuffling of plants, “I am quite hungry.”
You get a horrible feeling, and nearly trip, as something, or a someone, bolts through the thicket. A lion beastman. Before you can react, nails digging into your shoulders, and the new weight forces you to fall back, and momentum pushes you and him to roll over yourselves. Until you’re once again on your back, with the air from your lungs. Your eyes fly open, staring into amused deep emerald green eyes. You wince at the feelings of nails digging into your shoulders, close to breaking your skin and making you bleed, but he doesn’t. Only giving you the sensation of nails breaking skin. Your heels dig into the earth as you desperately try to regain your breath.
“Oh… Dont look like that. You act like I’m going to eat you. Well,” His hands move from your shoulders, letting you crawl backwards and away as he rested on the balls of his feet, forearms resting on his thighs as he tilts his head to the side. Eyes trailing you up and down, staring at the expansion of your bare thighs and legs, a low whistle slipping past his lips. “I might. In a more human way.” A shiver rolls down your spine as you use your cape to cover your legs. He visibly looks displeased as he looks at your face.
“Little Red Riding Hood on the run from the Queen.” He hums and youre eyes widen as you stagger to your feet.
“What? I didn’t do anything?!”
“Doesn’t seem that way,” his tail flicks lazily, his finger drawing in the dirt in clear boredom, “you somehow made the little tyrant mad.” He stands and you step away, he makes no move toward you. Green eyes gazing around the forest before stopping and landing on the path, in the direction in which you came. You follow his gaze and when you look back, the lion beastman is extremely close, his nose brushing against yours. You jump away and he rests a hand on his hips, while the other holds out your forgotten basket.
“I would get going little red. Unless you want to be headless.”
You take your basket and glanced the path, you could hear the pounding of hooves. You grimace before turning around, sharing one more glance at the beastman before darting down the path, back onto the road to grandmother’s house.
══════ ♡ ══════
There’s six. Six horses, five knights, one tyrant.
Shoving his hands into his pockets, kicking up dirt and letting out a yawn, he was pretty hungry. Maybe you’d and your grandmother might make a good snack after he’s done here. He counts the seconds before the Tyrant comes into view, an ever-permanent scowl upon his youthful face. He’s pristine and upon seeing Leona, he ordered his soldiers to stop and with ease slides off his horse and marches 10 steps before glaring at the Lion Beastman.
“Queen’s rules dictate that youre not allowed within the northern forest on Tuesday afternoons. In all honesty, I should send you and your pride further east for such disrespect of the Queens’s rules.” His words are venomous, speaking precisely that has his knights flinching even if the words weren’t for them.
“It’s Tuesday? I had no idea. Oops.” Using his pinky finger, he cleans out his ear with a bored expression, earning a harder glare as the Queen struggles to remain calm.
“No matter. Do what you want. I have more pressing matters.” He holds out his hand, and immediately, a parchment scroll is placed within his hands. The Queendom of Roses has always been the most efficient and quick. Undoing the rolled parchment and holding up the paper, your face was drawn most beautifully, a perfect reflection almost.
“Pretty isn’t he.” Leona furrows his brows, watching the Tyrant marvel at the photo, his nose scrunches in disgust.
“What are you on, Riddle?” Gasps and quick inhales come from the knights, yet the Queen doesn’t seem to mind, only few can call him by his name.
“If you must know. He disturbed my send off, and I assumed he was some ruffian. But to now see a drawing of him. He is quite cute and I am in need of a King,” He tilts her head with a gleeful grin, that seemed misplaced and lovesick, “Though I will have to break him in, make him more obedient. But I’m sure it’ll be worth it.”
“You truly are sick.” Riddle face morphs from love-struck to angry, rolling up the parchment delicately, before clearing his throat.
“I suggest you go. Unless—” A arrow shoots past Riddle’s head and grazes the fullness of Leona’s cheek before striking the tree behind him. Green eyes widen a mere fraction, and the tyrant beholds the tiniest smile. The card soldiers werent mere decoration, yet they arent that smart either. One of them must be a skilled huntsman.
“You know what I am capable of. I hate to have to make you my target instead.”
The leader of his pride rolls his shoulders lazily, with his thumb wiping away the blood on his cheek. “Absolutely. Id hate to make you angry. Know if you’ll excuse me, this lion is quite hungry.” And without another word, the lion stalks into the unknown of the woods.
══════ ♡ ══════
The path to grandmother’s house seems a lot longer than it usually does. Usually you’d be at her tiny cottage within an hour or two, yet it feels like days since you entered the woods and encountered the lion beastman. As if the forest was alive, living, breathing. As if the path beneath you were snakes whose bodies twisted and turned, knocking you off your feet.
You land with a hard thud, shaking your head. The forest is darker than before. How long has it been? You know the path and you know it well yet; you search your surroundings lazily, feeling as if you were submerged in thick oil, and the word seemed muffled. You spot vibrant red mushrooms that seemed to inflate before releasing a thick white gas. Hallucinations. They’re carnivorous mushrooms, but they’re never active during the day, nor on the path. Theyre new. As if purposely planted, but that’s ridiculous.
And it couldn’t possibly be night.
No.
You struggle to your feet, gripping the basket and meandering.
Walking.
Walking.
Walking.
Walking.
Walking.
Walking.
Walking.
Until a beacon.
Off to the side of the path, nestled in between two large trees, if you walked further down the path you’ll come across the small cottage village, with her golden porch light, was your grandmother’s house. With her stone walls and wooden roof were covered in moss and mushrooms, while her red painted door was visible. You pick up your pace, stumbling occasionally as you reach her rickety wooden porch, a wide grin upon your lips as you knock on the old door.
“Grandma!” You call through the wood, yet no reply. You grab the gold doorknob, turning it and slowly pushing the door inside, letting yourself in.
It’s the same as you remember, with the fireplace on, with fresh logs. There was no collection of dust, and the couch looked recently sat on. Her throw blanket and decor pillows were out of place. You close the door behind you, slipping off your shoes, and placed the basket on the dining room table. While undoing the strings of your cape and calling out to your grandma. You move deeper into her home, before reaching her bedroom. You knock.
“Oh, darling! I’m feeling quite sick, but come in. Come in.” Her voice sounds the same, and your tense shoulders drop, as a smile spreads across your face as you open the door. Only to find her bed empty and made, with the window wide open. You step further into the room, looking around, before you hear a soft click and you spin around, only to find the lion beastman from before. He isn’t looking at you, but instead squeezing a small bird.
“Mimic birds are quite useful. Able to mimic to the voice of anyone and anything once they hear it.” He releases the bird, and it frantically flies out the window. You step back. “You—My grandma!” You suck in a panicked breath and the man only shrugs. Striding his way towards you, his hand moving faster than you could comprehend to grab your face and squeeze your cheeks.
“What do you think—” His free arm slides around your waist and forces your close, you try to push him away, “I did. Maybe I ate her. Gobbled her up like a big bad wolf,” He faux pouts before clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes in personal annoyance, “Or lion, that fits better doesn’t it.” He shakes your head aggressively, speaking like a mother would to a child when they’re fussy,
“Maybe ill eat you up. Wouldn’t you just like that—” He lets you break away with a laugh, watching your glare, and he tilts his head and eyes moving out the window.
You can hear horses.
ⓒ 2023 love-thanatopsis — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited.
733 notes
·
View notes
“My Wingless Dove”
| Repost: 02.19.2023 | 1.2K | Mature Audiences |
Yandere!Diasomnia X GN!Reader [TWST: VAMPIRE AU]
Dark Content | Characters 18+ | Stalking | Kidnapping | Yandere | Blood | Forced Feeding | Implied Abuse/Violence | Etc | Proceed with Caution, Dearest.
Book.Summary: Dont walk into abandoned homes, even if the weather is bad, for there may be vampires living there that just love humans.
You’re pretty.
You’re pretty.
So pretty that it worries us to death when you come barreling into our home, fumbling through the door with heaving breaths, pounding heart, and rushing veins, so loud and so full of life. You kick the door closed desperately, blindly throwing yourself deep into the dark and what you assume—abandoned—home.
You’re far too pretty to live in such fear.
You make a home for yourself, using the old dusty library as yours, what we wish would be your forever home. Using broken floorboards as wood. Though you aren’t fully aware of our presence, that’s alright. You don’t need to worry about the peering, deep reddish-magenta glowing eyes that watch you from afar. Eyes that you swear you see as you prepare your dinner. Or as you sleep, gentle touches of flesh brush against the apple of your cheeks, or the exposed chest of your collarbone.
Don’t worry about the glaring eyes that watch you from afar as you search the forest for your food, silently protecting you. Do not worry when you see green eyes and that of a tall silhouette watching you from the far corners, only for you to blink and it’s gone. You’re pretty. They only want to admire you.
══════ ♡ ══════
The deep red eyes are first to greet you.
First to catch your attention. First to frighten you. Even if he doesn’t mean to., you’re just too cute, such a sweet, defenseless person, living amongst four beings that are far stronger, faster, hungrier. Far more than you could ever be. You’re fascinating and he lets you know of his existence. He wants you to know he’s around, devoted to you, as he is the prince.
You have dreams of a soft, monotone voice.
Hearing him whisper to you to sleep well, to have pleasant dreams. He is the one you should trust most, the one who understands you the most. Even though mortality is so from him. That’s alright, you are simply a glimpse of what he once was, and he adores you for that. You represent that part of him that was once human.
The glare from afar still scorns you.
He makes you feel unwanted, unneeded, foreign—an intruder. Well, in a way, you are. You stumble into their home, into the home of the prince, and make it your little hovel. He’s annoyed, disgusted, for you represent the side of him that will always be human. That will never change. He hates that about you, yet he can’t find it in his unbeating heart to allow any harm to come to you. Maybe he isn’t as detached from humanity as he claims.
The tall silhouette that scares you still.
He wishes you didn’t fear him. He wishes you’d simply waltz into his arms, sway gently against him and with him. He craves for you to step into the shadow to see him and acknowledge him for being safe, to see that he wouldn't harm you. He cares for you as a lover would. Even if you don’t love him yet, you will. Eventually, you will. As all things take time and you, darling, will have all the time in the world.
══════ ♡ ══════
“If I could simply stop time in this moment—without having to change not a single part of you—I truly wish I could.”
His words are merely wind to air as you sleep, blissful and unaware. You are as if the sun had been given for him to hold and cherish, a blessing, a gift. So strong, yet so destructive. So painful for he knows if he touches you, he melts. Burns. He’s alright with that.
You had in passing, talking to the ancient pictures on the walls of your soon departure. Something that Malleus can't bear to stand. You can’t go free of them. Of him. Not now. Nor ever. For he knows like a flower that only blooms once within its lifetime, would soon disappear. He refuses. You will be there for his lifetime, all his lifetimes. He wants nothing more.
“My Prince... what is it you desire?”
You.
The answer is you.
You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You. You.
It will always be you.
You spilled your blood today as you explored the vast forests. Bring them each nearly to their knees, salivating desperately. Like a flavor that they knew not of, yet still yearned for centuries. Surely, you’d indulge them. Silver gently lowers your form onto the massive bed, treating you so delicately, like glass.
You should feel so loved. So wanted. Even when you awaken and you thrash against Sebek’s tight embrace, cursing him—begging him to release you, pleading with him to let you go. As Lilia forces your mouth open to feed you, as you kick and scream.
You will come to understand our love.
As Silver nearly suffocated you in his chest, rocking you slowly as Malleus reads fairytale stories to you.
You’ll get over how cruel I am. As I read, you tales of freedom, or escape, of adventures, that you could never go on.
“You’ll understand why I did what I did, my little wingless dove.”
ⓒ 2023 love-thanatopsis — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited.
1K notes
·
View notes
"NOTHING GOOD HAPPENS AFTER DARK"
RIDDLE R. v LEONA K. [FEM! READER]
| MATURE | 3.4K | 01.31.23 |
ALICE IN WONDERLAND x RED RIDING HOOD [CROSSOVER]
WARNINGS: DARK CONTENT | YANDERE | VIOLENCE | PREDATOR n’ PREY | HUNTING | BLOOD | SUGGESTIVE | IMPLIED MURDER | PERSECTIVE JUMPS | SPECIES DISCRIMINATION | ETC | BE CAUTIOUS, BELOVED
T.MANOR: TRYING A NEW LAYOUT AND WRITING STYLE. ALSO THIS IS PRETTY MESSY WRITING SO BE AWARE, CAUSE I WAS JUST WRITING
| PART TWO |
| MALE!VER | GN!VER |
EVERY Tuesday, exactly at noon, does the stone clock tower chime. Without delay, you hear the sound of trumpets, the marching of hooves, as the golden gates of the palace open. Wide and big, as the card soldiers, in perfect position, march upon horses of black and white, wearing that of red with swords attached to their hips and spears within their hands. Preparing for the Queen’s weekly hunt. The crowd cheers, waves banners, as they yell sayings of good luck.
The cobblestone path is tight, crowded with people, big and small, infants to the elderly, all in hopes of seeing the benevolent Queen off. Even if this same celebration will happen next week as well. In seeing him in all his grandeur. Something you’d "sadly" miss, with your woven basket tight in hand, warm and heavy from the fresh baked delights, all from the Clover bakery. You shimmy through the tight crowd, moving in the opposite direction and were, quite frankly, in the way, even as you walk along the side house and store walls. You mummer ‘excuse me’ and apologize as you go, giving sheepish grins to those who spared you a glance.
You would rather be at home, yet you promised your mother you would go. You promised to go to the bakery, to buy your grandmother’s favorite treats and sweets and deliver them to her. She lives just outside the town and in the center of the thick woods, just on the other side in a small cottage in the middle of the northern woods. A journey you’ve made countless times, and on less crowded days. Yet today, your mother was extra worried, extra concerned for your grandmother’s well being. Even if you promised, you’d go first thing in the morning tomorrow. Yet she forced you anyway. Well, guilt-tripped you into going.
‘What if she’s already dead? Hm? What would you do then?’
Return home? Tell the authorities? Cry? Yet the look on her face told you she didn’t want any back talk, so you gave in and left.
You forced yourself further down the path, spotting the familiar opening that you’ve always taken. The town you live in is surrounded by a large stone wall. Tall and thick, with only one way out of the village, and one way in. Yet this impenetrable wall has a hole, fairly big, that anyone could fit their largest ox. So you had no trouble merely crawling or walking through. The alley that led to your secret path was uncrowded, as if waiting for you and you alone.
You shimmy forward, pushing past local residents. Some allowed room for you, having noticed you, others merely rolled their eyes. You pop your head past the road barricade, searching the long stone road. The card soldiers were far. Far away to where you could make it without interrupting them, or them even noticing you. You step over the thick string, glancing one more time, before you make haste. Darting onto the clear, wide road. Ignoring shouts and gasps as you make your way to the alley. Stopping to catch your breath, you turn around. Some of the crowd are merely laughing you off, others completely ignoring, some glared at you disappointedly, yet none made a move to call the guards on you. Your eyes scan the road. You hadn’t dropped anything, and if you did, you’re sure no one would even notice.
Slightly proud of yourself, you continue on, moving past the eccentric alley system, moving quickly past houses and shops, jogging towards the large wall.
You’d be fine.
══════ ♡ ══════
"HALT."
The crowd becomes silent, and everything pauses. A send off has never once stopped. The Red Queen, golden crown glinting in the sun, his hand raised high. His horse stands still, the same confident and demanding energy as his owner, bows his head, as the Queen flows off the saddle. Heels clicking against the stone road. He walks forward, taking exactly five precise steps, before crouching, leather gloved fingers swiping along the stone. How he saw just a small thing, no one will ever know. The squished remains of strawberry cream cheese tart, a small delight. He rubs the cream between his fingers before rising just as quickly, holding out his hand for a napkin. It appears within a second. He turns on his heel, glaring eyes scouring the crowd, before landing on an older man.
"You! Who ran across here!?"
"Uh! I have no clue, your—your majesty." He gives an embarrassed, clumsy bow, keeping his eyes glued to the ground. "Then you tell me?" The Queen looks at another, a young woman, who automatically stiffens her posture, face paling.
"A-a woman! A young woman. With—with a wooden basket and red cape." The crowd nods along eagerly.
"In which direction?"
Multiple hands point towards the alley, all in fear to face the Queen’s wrath. With a single snap, five card soldiers appear by his side. "Search for the one with a red hood. Such disrespect shall not be tolerated." There’s a chorus of ‘yes! your majesty.’ Yet not a soul moving til the Queen re-asummed his position upon his horse. "We will resume! While in search of this Red Hood!" His voice is thunderous, and as if nothing happened, everything returns to normal.
══════ ♡ ══════
The leaves crunch beneath your feet. As you continue your long trek, the path is winding and bumpy, covered in wild leaves and branches, the cobblestone hidden beneath the foliage. The basket sways within your hand as you walk and wander along the familiar path. The cool breeze flutters your crimson cloak, and you pull the hood to cover your head and protect your ears. Wishing to have worn pants instead of trying to be cute with your red skirt and white knee-length stocking.
The Queendom is never cold, unless the Queen desires cold weather.
It always remains at the perfect temperature, always a warm summer breeze and a perfect summer day. And as you venture deeper into the woods and further away from the Queendom, the cobblestone path slowly crumbles and slowly turns to dirt. You stop at the threshold, glancing behind you. Something about today seems different.
You hope it’ll be a good day.
You venture into the woods.
══════ ♡ ══════
"Ruggie. I’m heading out. Ill be back."
He lets out a low yawn, stretching his muscles as he walked towards the cave entrance, not giving Ruggie, his right hand, a chance to respond, leaving the hyena beastman to do whatever it is he’s doing. He pushes past the thick vines of the cave, leaving the warmth of the cave and giving a shallow nod to a young wolf beastman who currently was guarding the large camp, with the others like him. "Ill be back before dawn."
"It’s after noon? And the Queen and his guard is hunting today. Far from us, but still. Are you sur—" The lazy king gives a short wave, swatting away the beastman’s concerns, stifling another yawn, leisurely wiping tired tears from his eyes, while the wolf opened his mouth to speak.
"Jack!" The duo looks towards the urgent voices. Two young beastmen, a young tiger and an older bear, both you jogged frantically, seemingly having to run across the majority of the temporary camp. They slow to a stop, giving a quick bow to their pride leader before turning to Jack.
"The Queen’s Knights. Theres five of them! Theyre asking for you presence!"
"Of course. I’m on my way. Leona—" Jack turns to their sleepy leader, only to find the place where he stood empty. He’s brows furrow, before quickly giving up and motioning for the two to lead the way.
The Queendom of Roses and the Pride of Kingscholar. While the Queen occupies the Northern woods, the Kingscholar current occupies the East portion. Over months of arguments and fights, the Kingscholar Pride has been slowly forced to the outskirts and south, while the Queendom slowly takes over the North and East.
Jack and the two beastmen run side by side, running towards the end of the camp, coming across the five poised card guards. They all sit on white pristine horses, not moving an ounce as Jack slows and straightens out his white button-up shirt. "Where is Leona Kingscholar? We shall only speak to one of authority." The voice is muffled by his thick metal helmet, clasping to his reins and swords.
"He’s away. What you need can be spoken back to him." Jack crosses his arm, keeping a scowl upon his lips as the knight scoffs.
"I shouldn’t expect more from your kind," Jack clicks his tongue but doesn’t speak, letting the knight continue, "There’s a human girl in red. She has ruined the Queen’s sendoff and thus must receive punishment. If you find her, you know best to hand her over immediately."
"I have no such obligations."
"Right—" You can hear the confidence in his voice, as he shifts the reins, getting ready to move, "It’s only best to consume your meat fresh. I hope you don’t get red fabric between your fangs, wolf." Jack gives a low growl as the horse becomes spooked, rushing over, earning a yelp from the knight and gasps from the other silent four. They watch the group ride off into the forest, before letting out a huff.
"Jack. What should we do?"
The tiger beastman speaks first, which earns a thoughtful sigh from the wolf beastman. "Nothing. I’m sure Leona will find the girl before we do. Continue as you were." Jack turns on his heels, rolling his shoulders as both boys shout and eager ‘yes’. This camp is only temporary until they reach the eastern mountain’s summit, and beyond that will be the savannas once you cross the mountains. Something Leona has been avoiding for the longest time.
══════ ♡ ══════
The farther you walk, the darker the woods get. Yet the twisting and winding path doesn’t lead you astray, a path in which you're acquainted with. And as the trees grow closer and the leaves block the sun, it feels colder, as luminescent mushrooms and flowers that grow alongside the path glow in hints of blue and yellows, give you little light, while pollen that glows a soft purple flutters through the air. It’s absolutely enchanting, with towering thick trees and small sections which sunlight peeks through, highlighting the vibrant green plants and bushes. You hum softly, playing different games as you walk, occasionally eating one of your grandmother’s snacks.
"Youre quite far."
You screech, nearly jumping out of your skin at the new presence of a voice. You look around and see no one. Your heart pounds against your ribcage. After a few moments, you left out a huff, slowly calming yourself.
"Especially during the Tyrant’s Hunt," There’s a low chuckle that sends shudders down your spine and you look around frantically, "He might very well mistake you for a deer." A rock zooms past your head, barely missing you and striking the tree behind you. Your body stiffens.
"Can you not speak?" It’s taunting and drawn out and you shiver as if ghost hands caress your body.
"What do you want—?"
"Now that is the question," The voice lets out a low hum, and you hear the shuffling of plants, "I am quite hungry."
You get a horrible feeling, and nearly trip, as something, or a someone, bolts through the thicket. A lion beastman. Before you can react, nails digging into your shoulders, and the new weight forces you to fall back, and momentum pushes you and him to roll over yourselves. Until you're once again on your back, with the air from your lungs. Your eyes fly open, staring into amused deep emerald green eyes. You wince at the feelings of nails digging into your shoulders, close to breaking your skin and making you bleed, but he doesn’t. Only giving you the sensation of nails breaking skin. Your heels dig into the earth as you desperately try to regain your breath.
"Oh… Dont look like that. You act like I’m going to eat you. Well," His hands move from your shoulders, letting you crawl backwards and away as he rested on the balls of his feet, forearms resting on his thighs as he tilts his head to the side. Eyes trailing you up and down, staring at the expansion of your bare thighs and legs, a low whistle slipping past his lips. "I might. In a more human way." A shiver rolls down your spine as you use your cape to cover your legs. He visibly looks displeased as he looks at your face.
"Little Red Riding Hood on the run from the Queen." He hums and youre eyes widen as you stagger to your feet.
"What? I didn’t do anything?!"
"Doesn’t seem that way," his tail flicks lazily, his finger drawing in the dirt in clear boredom, "you somehow made the little tyrant mad." He stands and you step away, he makes no move toward you. Green eyes gazing around the forest before stopping and landing on the path, in the direction in which you came. You follow his gaze and when you look back, the lion beastman is extremely close, his nose brushing against yours. You jump away and he rests a hand on his hips, while the other holds out your forgotten basket.
"I would get going little red. Unless you want to be headless."
You take your basket and glanced the path, you could hear the pounding of hooves. You grimace before turning around, sharing one more glance at the beastman before darting down the path, back onto the road to grandmother’s house.
══════ ♡ ══════
There’s six. Six horses, five knights, one tyrant.
Shoving his hands into his pockets, kicking up dirt and letting out a yawn, he was pretty hungry. Maybe you’d and your grandmother might make a good snack after he’s done here. He counts the seconds before the Tyrant comes into view, an ever-permanent scowl upon his youthful face. He’s pristine and upon seeing Leona, he ordered his soldiers to stop and with ease slides off his horse and marches 10 steps before glaring at the Lion Beastman.
"Queen’s rules dictate that youre not allowed within the northern forest on Tuesday afternoons. In all honesty, I should send you and your pride further east for such disrespect of the Queens’s rules." His words are venomous, speaking precisely that has his knights flinching even if the words weren’t for them.
"It’s Tuesday? I had no idea. Oops." Using his pinky finger, he cleans out his ear with a bored expression, earning a harder glare as the Queen struggles to remain calm.
"No matter. Do what you want. I have more pressing matters." He holds out his hand, and immediately, a parchment scroll is placed within his hands. The Queendom of Roses has always been the most efficient and quick. Undoing the rolled parchment and holding up the paper, your face was drawn most beautifully, a perfect reflection almost.
"Pretty isn’t she." Leona furrows his brows, watching the Tyrant marvel at the photo, the beastman’s nose scrunches in disgust.
"What are you on, Riddle?" Gasps and quick inhales come from the knights, yet the Queen doesn’t seem to mind, only few can call him by his name.
"If you must know. She ruined my send off, and I assumed she was some ruffian. But to now see such a drawing of her. She is quite cute and I am in need of a King," He tilts her head with a gleeful grin, that seemed misplaced and lovesick, "Though I will have to break her in, make her more obedient. But I’m sure it’ll be worth it."
"You truly are sick." Riddle face morphs from love-struck to angry, rolling up the parchment delicately, before clearing his throat.
"I suggest you go. Unless—" A arrow shoots past Riddle's head and grazes the fullness of Leona’s cheek before striking the tree behind him. Green eyes widen a mere fraction, and the tyrant beholds the tiniest smile. The card soldiers weren’t mere decoration, yet they aren’t that smart either. One of them must be a skilled huntsman.
"You know what I am capable of. I hate to have to make you my target instead."
The leader of his pride rolls his shoulders lazily, with his thumb wiping away the blood on his cheek. "Absolutely. Id hate to make you angry. Now if you’ll excuse me, this lion is quite hungry." And without another word, the lion stalks into the unknown of the woods.
══════ ♡ ══════
The path to grandmother’s house seems a lot longer than it usually does. Usually you’d be at her tiny cottage within an hour or two, yet it feels like days since you entered the woods and encountered the lion beastman. As if the forest was alive, living, breathing. As if the path beneath you were snakes whose bodies twisted and turned, knocking you off your feet.
You land with a hard thud, shaking your head. The forest is darker than before. How long has it been? You know the path and you know it well yet; you search your surroundings lazily, feeling as if you were submerged in thick oil, and the word seemed muffled. You spot vibrant red mushrooms that seemed to inflate before releasing a thick white gas. Hallucinations. They’re carnivorous mushrooms, but they’re never active during the day, nor on the path. They’re new. As if purposely planted, but that’s ridiculous.
And it couldn’t possibly be night.
No.
You struggle to your feet, gripping the basket and meandering.
Walking.
Walking.
Walking.
Walking.
Walking.
Walking.
Walking.
Until a beacon.
Off to the side of the path, nestled in between two large trees, if you walked further down the path you’ll come across the small cottage village, with her golden porch light, was your grandmother’s house. With her stone walls and wooden roof were covered in moss and mushrooms, while her red painted door was visible. You pick up your pace, stumbling occasionally as you reach her rickety wooden porch, a wide grin upon your lips as you knock on the old door.
"Grandma!" You call through the wood, yet no reply. You grab the gold doorknob, turning it and slowly pushing the door inside, letting yourself in.
It’s the same as you remember, with the fireplace on, with fresh logs. There was no collection of dust, and the couch looked recently sat on. Her throw blanket and decor pillows were out of place. You close the door behind you, slipping off your shoes, and placed the basket on the dining room table. While undoing the strings of your cape and calling out to your grandma. You move deeper into her home, before reaching her bedroom. You knock.
"Oh, darling! I’m feeling quite sick, but come in. Come in." Her voice sounds the same, and your tense shoulders drop, as a smile spreads across your face as you open the door. Only to find her bed empty and made, with the window wide open. You step further into the room, looking around, before you hear a soft click and you spin around, only to find the lion beastman from before. He isn’t looking at you, but instead squeezing a small bird.
"Mimic birds are quite useful. Able to mimic to the voice of anyone and anything once they hear it." He releases the bird, and it frantically flies out the window. You step back. "You—My grandma!" You suck in a panicked breath and the man only shrugs. Striding his way towards you, his hand moving faster than you could comprehend to grab your face and squeeze your cheeks.
"What do you think—" His free arm slides around your waist and forces your close, you try to push him away, "I did. Maybe I ate her. Gobbled her up like a big bad wolf," He faux pouts before clicking his tongue and rolling his eyes in personal annoyance, "Or lion, that fits better doesn’t it." He shakes your head aggressively, speaking like a mother would to a child when they’re fussy,
"Maybe ill eat you up. Wouldn’t you just like that—" He lets you break away with a laugh, watching your glare, and he tilts his head and eyes moving out the window.
You can hear horses.
ⓒ 2023 love-thanatopsis — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited.
731 notes
·
View notes
TWISTED WONDERLAND: ANDROID AU
WARNINGS: Characters 18+ | Slightly of Explicit | Inspired By: @yandere-daydreams | Etc | Proceed with Caution, Dearest |
NRC and RSA, two rivaling multibillionaire technological android companies. A small but lucrative market of highly advanced and human like androids that are worth thousands. You just so happened to get your hands on some of the latest and most advanced android.
Android Types:
Standard Android:
The average android with not preset determined abilities. Though they can be programmed and instructed basic tasks, such as cleaning, child-care, conversational, etc. They're the oldest models created, and often not sold. It's better to buy an Android that's best suited to your needs.
Maid/Butler Android:
Cleaning Type Androids. Theses specialize in cleaning your home spotless and functioning, such as dishes, laundry, sweeping, mopping, garden-care, and many more functions as such. As well as taking direct care of your needs, such as preparing baths, helping you get dressed, and running household type errands. Most androids of these type are paired with servant androids and don't get along with entertainment type droids.
Servants Android:
Similar to the Maid/Butler Type Androids, these droids have more variety in their tasks, such as cleaning, cooking, baking, gardening, they can also leave the house and run errands for their owner. Which jobs you want your droid to do, it's completely easy to switch off the other tasks, and have them focus on one. They dont get along with messy and outgoing droids.
Caretaker/Pet-Care Android:
Best for families with children or pets, even older people. Helping with taking to and from school, homework, any extracurricular activities, or anything that you child or children needs help with. If they're a pet droid, they'll help with pet walking, feeding, grooming, and training your pet. All need and care done by your android.
Entertainment Android:
Androids such as these are rarely sold to civilians but to music, film, and entertainment companies. Many have a amazing career and are one of the most expensive models to own. They get along best with trophy types.
Social Android:
A friend and companion. Best for those who are extremely lonely and are the cheapest and most commonly sold androids. Most android owners have at least one, they help keep balance, especially with a owner of many different androids.
Educational Android:
Most seen in schools, hospitals, and libraries. They're the best with teaching young and old and are very patient. Though rarely bought by civilians.
Security Android:
Simply give this android a thing to protect and it will. Whether it's your home, a vault, your garden, and yourself. The android takes its job very seriously, and often hot-headed, so most are used by high-profiled people.
Trophy Android:
The rarest androids and only have one or two models ever created ever. They are expensive and to get your hands on one is a miracle. They're a showstopper, that make you and your droid the center of attention always.
Sex Android:
Every android depending on its model has this ability, so it's dependent of its owner to use this setting. Which allows your droid to participate and initiate sex, as well learn all kinks and everything it's owner likes. It's can be either dominant or submissive or switch between the two.
Heartslabyul Collection:
—Android: Riddle Rosehearts
Type: Servant [Specialty: Cleaning] & Educational
Description: Model.HXRR, a android that specializes in servant and educational tasks and often geared towards rich families for his almost Royal Red Aesthetic. Though this model never deviates from rules nor order, as long as the rules of his owner are being followed he is a quiet and kind android, unless you break or upset his owner.
—Android: Trey Clover
Type: Servant [Specialty: Baking], Social, & Caretaker
Description: Model.HXTC, a androids that is often shown for its amazing baking skills and amazing caretaker skills with children. Often seen as an android for small household who only want one android and one multi-functional. A rather quiet and smart, that do it's best to avoid conflict and always appease their owner.
—Android: Cater Diamond
Type: Social & Servant [Specialty: Cooking & Gardening]
Description: Model.HXCD, one of the most social androids from Heartslabyul Collection and is great for large families with a lot of energy and is great outdoors. Extremely social and will treat their owner the absolute best.
—Android: Ace Trappola
Type: Standard & Social
Description: Model.HXAT, most who want this super social android is due to his personality. Many that buy him are those who want teenage rebellious son without having to go through the whole process. These Androids are often seen as 'big brothers' to young children in school.
—Android: Deuce Spade
Type: Security [discontinued], Social, & Servant
Description: Model.HXDS, was a highly desired security android until and unfortunate accident, Model.HXDS Security Type was discontinued. NRC attempted to rebrand Deuce as a social and servant type, it due to his appearance and old models many don't own androids such as him.
══════ ♡ ══════
SavannaClaw Collection:
—Android: Leona Kingscholar
Type: Security & Trophy
Description: Model.SXLK, a security android, based off a lion, that became owned by a Royal family and was discontinued because the family asked. Only 3 models of Model.SXLK exist.
—Android: Ruggie Bucchi
Type: Caretaker & Servant
Description: Model.SXRB, based off a hyena, a multi-functional and great for large groups of kids. Quite popular in small communities and are great if you wanna get to know your neighbors. This model is slightly overworking and can be quite busy bodies for their owner. Though if made to be a sexdoll, Model.SXRB is quite shy and scared of women, which can be worked through possibly.
—Android: Jack Howl
Type: Security
Description: Model.SXJH, a security model based off a wolf. The most commonly got security system and popular to various establishments. Cheap and quite dependable and extremely loyal.
══════ ♡ ══════
Octavinelle Collection:
—Android: Azul Ashengrotto
Type: Educational, Servant [Specialty: Cooking], & Entertainment
Description: Model.OXAA, based off a octopus, an extremely talented android, found in colleges, rich households, and high class restaurants with his amazing piano skills and seen as super charismatic. A fan favorite.
—Android: Jade Leech
Type: Security & Servant
Description: Model.OXJL, based off a moray eel. An extremely intimidating model that comes with his twin brother, Model.OXFL. Some say if your don't buy both the androids together then they'll malfunction over a few days. Model.OXJL is extremely reliable yet is rarely bought due to its deadly nature.
—Android: Floyd Leech
Type: Security & Servant
Description: Model.OXFL, based off moray eel. This model is rarely sold due to its violent and unpredictable nature that seems to come preprogrammed and many don't trust the Model, nor his twin in general. Little information is known about the android.
══════ ♡ ══════
Scarabia Collection:
—Android: Kalim Al-Asim
Type: Social & Trophy
Description: Model.SXKA, an extremely social android made and specially built for the Asim family and with only 2 models ever created. The Asim family owns the most androids in the world and hold some of the most fabulous parties.
—Android: Jamil Viper
Type: Butler, Security, & Servant [Specialty: ALL]
Description: Model.SXJV, but specially to be partnered with Model.SXKA. But his design was so loved that he was massed made and sold worldwide. Model.SXJV is a extremely reliable android that is great for not only security but household needs.
══════ ♡ ══════
Pomefiore Collection:
—Android: Vil Schoenheit
Type: Trophy & Entertainment
Description: Model.PXVS, was made special for the film industry for a simple test run but Model.PXVS did so well, the film company bought and patented Model.PXVS design. Model.PXVS is well known and extremely talented and better than the average entertainment android.
—Android: Rook Hunt
Type: Security
Description: Model.PXRH, a unique security android that many view as creepy. It's unusually social yet it also extrem frightening. He's classified as security, but does various things that his owner asked. Even tasked that are unrelated to security.
—Android: Epel Felmier
Type: Servant [Specialty: Gardening]
Description: Model.PXEF, one of the cutest androids and one of the best sellers amongst men, but then is often returned due to it's hotheadedness. Which is said to be purposely created to humble creepy perverted man.
══════ ♡ ══════
Ignihyde Collection:
—Android: Idia Shroud
Type: Educational & Trophy
Description: Model.IXIS, an odd android that for the longest time didn't have a physical body, but was an ai on your phone or computer, before eventually becoming an Android. He's sold on larger scale, but is extremely expensive. Only 5 have ever been sold.
══════ ♡ ══════
Diasomnia Collection:
—Android: Malleus Draconia
Type: Trophy
Description: Model.DXMD, based off a dragon and a special commission from a powerful woman, there is said to only be two, with the other one being a complete back up in case android #1 gets destroyed. The model is hardly ever seen or photographed.
—Android: Lilia Vanrouge
Type: Security, Social, & Caretaker
Description: Model.DXLV, based off a bat. One of the 1st Androids to be built and was once a fan favorite but know are rarely sold. Model.DXLV is extremely dependable, sometimes forgetful, but a great addition for those who like a playful personality.
—Android: Silver [Discontinued]
Type: Security & Standard
Description: Model.DXS, a greatly anticipated model due to his uniqueness out of the Diasomnia Collection. He was once very popular til its original creator passed and everyone forgot about the outdated model.
—Android: Sebek Zigvolt
Type: Security & Servant
Description: Model.DXSZ, based off a crocodile, he is the most loyal models. With a very loud and outgoing, this model is great for those who love extremely devotional androids. Though was built in honor of Model.DXMD, so he comes built with Model.DXMD appreciation.
ⓒ 2023 love-thanatopsis — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited.
508 notes
·
View notes
TWISTED WONDERLAND: VAMPIRE AU
WARNINGS: Characters 18+ | Blood | Aggression | Mentions of Violence | Implied Kidnapping | Yandere | Dark Content | Etc | Proceed with Caution, Dove |
OVERVIEW:
Vampires have existed for millennia. Evolving. Just as humans do, spread all across Twisted Wonderland. With the ability to drink blood. Shapeshift. Immortality. Control minds. To grow and expand.
There are several breeds of vampires.
——Pure-Bloods: They are the First Vampires to Exist. They have that of royal blood within them. The purest vampires can turn humans and half-bloods into full-blooded vampires. They’re rarely ever seen, and many believe them to be extinct or simply choose to hide from society, both humans and vampires. Not much is known about them, but to fear and or respect them.
——Full-Bloods: Humans or Half-Blood Vampires that were turned into Full-bloods by the Purest Form of Vampires. They’re also born from two Full-bloods. Most Full-bloods run large covens and form families with other Full-Bloods and create their own hierarchy. They can also turn humans into a lesser form of vampires.
——Half-Blood: Born from a Vampire and a Human. They’re very similar to Full-Bloods, but can also walk within the sun, unlike Full-Bloods. They have a harder time controlling their urges for blood and are seen as a disgrace amongst certain vampiric communities. Most Half-Bloods are killed before they can fully grow or before they're even born.
——Hybrids: Born from a Vampire and a different Non-Human Species. They’re especially rare and insanely strong, with a mix of vampiric powers, and whatever else they’re mixed with. You can’t tell most have vampire blood within them since it’s rare for them to feel certain instincts unless they’re around a general weakness.
——Turned: Humans were bitten by a Full-Blood and drank their blood in return. This makes the once human, now forever tied to the vampire that turned them.
COVEN HEARTSLABYUL:
Located within a land of mazes and roses. Heartslabyul is by far the largest coven. Taking in all those that seek refuge as long as they can provide. Most of those that live within the large manor, was on the verge of death, before pledging their life to Riddle Rosehearts. Heartslabyul is strict, yet doesn’t hide away from humans. Instead, they keep to themselves and are cordial.
Coven Leader: Riddle Rosehearts
—Vampiric Breed: Full-Blood Vampire [Turned by Malleus Draconia]
—Age: 219 [Turned at age 19]
—Does he Drink Human Blood: Yes. [Only when Donated and or Given.]
Born as a human and studied Vampiric Law, he often spoke up and out for Vampires and other supernatural creatures. Making him a prime target of hate within the Queendom of Roses. During his work, he was attacked and nearly left for dead, before Malleus found him. Both meeting once by chance and having mutual respect, Malleus offered to turn him into a Full-Blood and Riddle agreed. Riddle soon went on then to gather others, similar to him, and created a home for the rejected. He still follows his rules, that the immortal and mortal can coexist.
Right Hand: Trey Clover
—Vampiric Breed: Turned Vampire [Turned by Riddle Rosehearts]
—Age: 218
—Does he Drink Human Blood: No. [Only animal blood]
Born as a human, and a close friend to Riddle. Offering to help him no matter what, and staying by his side. He was the one who asked Riddle to turn him so that he could be of greater use. Many view him as human, and see nothing out of the ordinary. Seeing as he drinks only animal blood.
Key Figures:
Cater Diamond
—Vampiric Breed: Turned Vampire [Turned by Riddle Rosehearts]
—Age: 128
—Does he Drink Human Blood: Sometimes.
Born as a human, and was close to death. He was running out of his home and was on the run. Riddle gave him a safe home and turned to him.
Ace Trappola
—Vampiric Breed: Half-Blood Vampire
--Age: 156
—Does he Drink Human Blood: Yes.
His mother was a human and his father a vampire. He lived an average life until his village was attacked and he was ran out of his village. He lived as a rogue for years, before Riddle found him and offered him a home.
Deuce Spade
—Vampiric Breed: Turned Vampire [Turned by Rouge Full-Blood]
—Age: 108
—Does he Drink Human Blood: No. [Tempted]
Born as a human, his village was attacked, and he was saved by a rogue vampire. Who enjoyed him and used him to participate in other village raids. He couldn’t fight against the Vampire and was forced to hurt humans until Riddle found the rogue and killed him. Ultimately saving Deuce
══════ ♡ ══════
COVEN SAVANNACLAW:
Located within a land of savannas and jungles. SavannaClaw is the 2nd largest coven. A coven that still participates in the old ways of drinking blood, but they as well interact with humans on occasion. They’re very secluded and keep to themselves. Yet he’s seen as a monster in human form. Savannaclaw is wild, with their only rules being to protect the weak, but they follow the rules of the world.
Coven Leader: Leona Kingscholar
—Vampiric Breed: Hybrid Vampire
—Age: 421
—Does he Drink Human Blood: Yes.
His mother was a lion beastman, and his father was a vampiric lion beastman, a hybrid. Born as the 2nd Prince, as an outcast, Leona soon left home and ran into the past vampire hybrid that ruled SavannaClaw. The two didn’t get along, and Leona decided he wanted the position, and thus killed the old leader and took his place easily.
Right Hand: Ruggie Bucchi
—Vampiric Breed: Turned Vampire [Turned by Leona Kingscholar]
—Age: 326
—Does he Drink Human Blood: Sometimes.
A thief that tried to steal from Leona, only to be caught and almost killed. Leona decided to take pity in turn, that Ruggie listen to his every whim and desire. Which the hyena beastman did and did well. So Leona turned to him and kept him by his side.
Key Figures:
Jack Howl
—Vampiric Breed: Full-Blooded Vampire [Turned By Vil Schoenheit]
—Age: 119
—Does he Drink Human Blood: No.
Friends with Vil Schoenheit, he became a vampire willingly, until betrayed. He ran away from the Pomefiore coven and stumbled across SavannaClaw. Though he is seen as an outcast for his association with Vil.
══════ ♡ ══════
COVEN OCTAVINELLE:
Located within the oceans and deep sea. Octavinelle is the 2nd smallest coven. A coven that still participates in the ways of the ocean. In the harshness, the absolute violence. They don’t interact with humans, they only view humans as food. Blood bags. Yet they sometimes pretend to be seen as humans to lure. They’re very secluded, yet pretend to be accepting. Yet this coven has many traitors, all which escape to the Scarabia Coven.
Coven Leader: Azul Ashengrotto
—Vampiric Breed: Hybrid Vampire
—Age: 326
—Does he Drink Human Blood: Yes.
Born from an octopus and vampire, he spends most of his time ignoring the portion of him that's a a vampire and often rejects it. He often vows about the separation of vampires, humans, and other merpeople and beastmen. He believes that they should remain separate and not intermingle. He has grown quite a fraction and even those non-merpeople align with his ideas.
Right Hand: Jade Leech
—Vampiric Breed: Hybrid Vampire
—Age: 329
—Does he Drink Human Blood: Yes
Carries out all of Azul’s orders. Though he doesn’t share the same sentiment. He likes the idea that humans, vampires, and merpeople mingle. He finds it entertaining in what mixes can create. Yet he doesn’t deny that the separation also brings entertainment. He truly doesn’t care either way.
Key Figures:
Floyd Leech
—Vampiric Breed: Hybrid Vampire
—Age: 329
—Does he Drink Human Blood: Yes
Enjoys the chaos. Enjoys the violence. He likes the part of him that is a vampire and everyone knows as much. He doesn’t hide it. Many of those within Octavinelle view him as a traitor, yet can’t do anything about it.
══════ ♡ ══════
COVEN SCARABIA:
Located within the heated deserts. The third largest coven that houses not only vampires, but humans, and anyone else. One of the safest covens that accepts vampires, everyone and everything. They don’t participate in violence nor anything else and keep to themselves, while offering help. An extremely safe coven.
Coven Leader: Kalim Al-Asim
—Vampiric Breed: Full-Blooded Vampire
—Age: 230
—Does he Drink Human Blood: No.
Kalim Al-Asim was born as a half-blood but his mother turned him into a full-blooded vampire. He keeps up the already functioning traditions of working alongside humans and offering them homes. He is kind and sweet and often houses vampires and humans, protecting them from other covens. Which also makes him disagreeable to covens with traitorous vampires and or humans.
Right Hand: Jamil Viper
—Vampiric Breed: Turned Vampire [Turned by Kalim Al-Asim]
—Age: 226
—Does he Drink Human Blood: Yes.
Born human and turned by Kalim at a young age to bind the two together for a lifetime together. Not much is known about Jamil except that he is a dedicated and faithful servant.
══════ ♡ ══════
COVEN POMEFIORE:
Located within the frigid mountains and pretty forests. One of the most popular covens where vampires and humans mingle. Where pleasure, beauty, lust and love thrive. With a large population of turned vampires who wished to be turned. The entire city is a coven. Most don’t know that they stepped into the Coven.
Coven Leader: Vil Schoenheit
—Vampiric Breed: Pure-Blood Vampire
—Age: 419
—Does he Drink Human Blood: Yes.
One of the only known Pure-Bloods that constantly mingles with humans. Seens as a very selfish vampire that loves the blood of beautiful men and women, and only accepts those of beauty into his coven. He’s harsh and almost antagonistic, yet well beloved.
Right Hand: Rook Hunt
—Vampiric Breed: Full Blooded Vampire [Turned by Vil Schoenheit]
—Age: 410
—Does he Drink Human Blood: Yes.
Once a human that went to Vil and asked to be a vampire. Promising to devote his very life to Vil. He’s odd, and no one knows much about him except that the coven of SavannaClaw hates him.
Key Figures:
Epel Felmier
—Vampiric Breed: Turned Vampire [Turned by Vil Schoenheit]
—Age: 329
—Does he Drink Human Blood: Yes
A human that fled to the Pomefiore Coven to escape a group of vampires that assumed he was a woman. Yet unaware that Pomefiore doesn’t do kind deeds without being repaid. So in turn for Epel’s protection, he turned him into a vampire.
══════ ♡ ══════
COVEN IGNIHYDE:
Located within misty mountains and underground caves. It's a small and very forgettable coven. With very few vampires. Most are unaware of its existence and it’s more of a myth than an actual coven.
Coven Leader: Idia Shroud
—Vampiric Breed: Pure-Blood Vampire
—Age: 521
—Does he Drink Human Blood: Sometimes.
Loner Pure-Blood that fits the description of unknown. He purposely chooses to remain hidden away and secret from the world. Yet his caves are insanely eccentric and house the most advanced technology in the world. All built by him.
Right Hand: Ortho Shroud
—Vampiric Breed: ?????
—Age: 494
—Does he Drink Human Blood: Yes.
No one is sure of what Ortho is and settles that he’s a machine but needs blood to run his systems. Odd.
══════ ♡ ══════
COVEN DIASOMNIA:
Location is unknown. Everything about Diasomnia is unknown except the name and that no humans can ever join them.
Coven Leader: Malleus Draconia
—Vampiric Breed: Pure-Blood Vampire
—Age: 632
—Does he Drink Human Blood: Sometimes.
The oldest known direct descendant of a royal Pure-Blood line. Yet no one has seen his face, they know that all covens must bow down to him and only him.
Right Hand: Lilia Vanrouge
—Vampiric Breed: Pure-Blood Vampire
—Age: ????
—Does he Drink Human Blood: Yes.
He’s existed forever, some even believe before Malleus. In a time of war and heartache, yet many are unsure and don’t bother to learn from the strange vampire.
Key Figures:
Silver
—Vampiric Breed: Turned Vampire [Turned by Lilia Vanrouge]
—Age: 253
—Does he Drink Human Blood: No
A human that is bound to Malleus. There’s not much more to him, is there?
Sebek Zigvolt
—Vampiric Breed: Half-Blood Vampire
—Age: 248
—Does he Drink Human Blood: Yes.
Very proudly, does he hate humans. And very proudly does he drink their blood to show clear superiority. Even though human blood exists within his veins. Malleus and Lilia have both refused to change him fully.
—NRC [NIGHT RAVEN COVEN]: The meeting place of all Covens. All coven leaders and their selected members must gather to fix grudges and prevent coven wars.
—RSA [ROYAL SWORD ASYLUM]: Those that protect humans from vampires and fight against the spreading of covens. Some believe that RSA is trying to learn a way to unturn vampires and return them back to humans.
—NBC [NOBLE BELL CHURCH]: Vampires are demonic and NBC specializes in raising vampire hunters. They are quite successful in their talents.
“NRC asks for our presence. You will accompany us.”
His words are familiar demands, yet they have no force behind them, no sneer, no anger, no threat. Yet a demand in which he stares, with eyes of emerald, with the slightest hint of red. You merely nod, back still towards him. Keeping your eyes on the black lacy pattern of the tablecloth, feeling fangs pierce deeper into your wrist. You grimace. There is no pleasure that comes when giving blood, not if the one taking does not desire it. And he is keen on taking without giving.
“Sebek~ Be a little gentle. Before you hurt our little Dove.” A different voice, one that is sultry, purring almost, as he sits across the dining table, elbows pressed against the wood and chin within his palms. Yet magenta eyes are ever so amused.
No matter how much you hate that nickname, he continues to refer to you as such. You wince as the man nearly growls, annoyed by his elders words, yet listening. Feeling his teeth leave your skin and listening to his heavy exhale, steam rolling past his lips as he relishes in the moment. You pull your wrist away, using the already red splotchy towel to cover the wound, a towel that has been used two times prior to this moment. The pain is quick to fade, yet you know the marks won’t. They never do.
“Dove. Did you hear me?”
You turn to your capture. The one who said your blood had the sweetest smell and the most unique taste. The best type to every grace of his immortal tongue. That made him feel almost human again. Almost. He leans back in his chair, sitting at the head of the table, one that isn’t any different from the others, yet seems like a throne amongst mere stools. Staring with unblinking eyes, as he holds a half empty wine glass, one that he occasionally sips. “… Yes… My Lord…” The words are forced past your lips as your semi-bow, rising your seat, still gingerly covering your arm. He dismisses you with a simple nod, yet a promise to visit later.
Cause blood in his glass is merely never enough to satisfy him.
ⓒ 2023 love-thanatopsis — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited.
481 notes
·
View notes
TWISTED WONDERLAND: MOULIN ROUGE
WARNINGS: Dark Content | Sexual Themes | Implied Prostetution | Violence | Yandere | Etc. | Proceed with Caution Dearest. | Inspired By Lovely @elenamegan14, who I absolutely adore.
═ PROLOGUE ═
DEAREST ARISTOTLE FAMILY,
Hello Aristotle Family, I have received word that your father, James Aristotle, has passed, truly a sad day and I give you time to grieve. Yet time is money and I fear that a certain family, your family to be exact, is still quite indebted to me. I do send my condolences. Though fear not, it is not much I desire from you, dear Aristotle family.
I ask for your eldest child to be sent to NRC and aid me. You needn’t know why, but they will indeed be safe. All that the eldest needs to bring are whatever they desire. Shelter and all other needs will be provided. Within this envelope contains a special boating ticket and I do hope you do not lose this. I expect the eldest child to arrive before the end of fall.
I’ll Be Waiting,
DIRE CROWLEY
Pulling the fabric of your thick coat closer to your form, your luggage trapped between your legs as your sit on the deck of the large ship. It’s crowded, all eager to board off the boat and onto what one would consider paradise island. It’s dark and unseeable. Yet the anticipation is tastable, like fresh oranges, and you can already taste the citrus without having to bite it. We all sit in the dark, for the inside of the boat is only for the rich, nobles, and royalty. Not poor underdressed commoners. With little to their name. We are forced to be outside like dogs. The sun set hours ago, and the moon missing as if stolen from the sky. The only thing illuminating the path is the ship lights at shine onto the fog-covered ink of the ocean.
Consider yourself lucky.
A letter was sent from none other than Dire Crowley, owner of NRC. Night Raven Club or Night Raven Coterie. It rests heavy within the inside of your coat, as do the thoughts of worry and fear in what you have to do for Dire Crowley. NRC is a notoriously dangerous, yet lavish place, having been around for generations. It’s also known for draining the very pockets of men and women alike, leaving those same men and women begging for scraps along the island, begging to be able to get back into the club, like drug addicts going through withdrawals. Until the next boat arrives to take them home. Though most go kicking and screaming, dragged onto the ship. Yet the boat itself is unpredictable and unreliable. Once you’re on the island, you can’t get off, at least not easily.
People have gambled away all they have and all they are. Truly a dangerous place.
Consider yourself one in a million.
Crowley had sent you a special invitation, promising a beautiful bedroom for your stay, for as long as you carried out whatever he needed to be done. Though, this letter wasn’t for you directly, but for your family. Due to your father, a man who so desperately sold off almost everything to NRC, leaving his wife and children in ruins, and went crawling to Crowley for it all back. Your father believes Dire Crowley to be a kind man. A very kind, gracious man, that understands and is oh so forgiving. So Dire Crowley did what your father asked, gave back all that your father foolishly lost. Though not without something in exchange. Your family would forever be indebted to the man named Dire Crowley, and would do all he needed to be done when he asked. A deal could last generations if Dire Crowley so wished.
Your father has passed. Escaped the consequences of his actions, so you, as the eldest, must do what your father can’t.
Night Raven Coterie.
The Club of Twisted Imagination.
It’s a name everyone knows. A name that you either despise or worship. Like a whiskey that burns your throat when you drink it, so painful, but so good. It’s a name that lulls you into eternal sleep. That burns your skin worse than that of the bluest flames. That poisons you and kills you. That leaves you stranded in the desert with nothing but the clothes on your back. That drags you into the deepest parts of the ocean or lures you into the hungry den of lions. Or a heavy collar that restricts who you are.
With its great seven-standing beauties and the poor souls trapped within its confines. Unable to escape. Unable to ever be free.
══════ ♡ ══════
Heartslabyul.
Strictness.
Order. Order. Order. Rules. Rules. Rules. Nothing more. Nothing less. This club room is almost as twisted as the island. With 810 rules, written and posted on the walls before you enter the room that rests beyond the crimson-red door. Tables and chairs were all placed orderly, with red painted roses in the center. It’s almost like a never-ending tea party. All were directed towards a stage of checkered patterns of red and white, with heavy velvet curtains hiding the stage. Til the exact moment, exactly with the clock, do the curtains open.
The Queen’s Arrival.
Riddle Rosehearts, The Red Rose Tyrant.
Short in stature but large in presence. A boyish, arrogant look as he entertains and dances across the stage before strutting down the catwalk and onto a smaller circular stage. Closer to you. Closer to the rich and desperate people. Begging to be hit by his leather riding crop, begging for him to look down on them with a sneer. He’s alluring, sweeter than the sweetest tart, and scolding like freshly brewed tea. He’s merciless. Unforgiving. Bad-Tempered. Selfish. Spoiled. A sadist that ties sinful men and women to their chairs and punishes them. He’s cruel and all things within that room, behind that door, the door in the color of blood-painted roses, must be orderly.
══════ ♡ ══════
SavannaClaw.
Perseverance.
Wild and Free. Bathing in the coolness of the Savanna freshwater springs. It’s loud and in constant motion. It’s rowdy and not for that of fate of heart. A more hands-on experience, with colors of browns and yellows. With floral from the savanna decorating the hot and steaming room, it’s the perfect place for fights. For arguments. With no tables or chairs, most men and women find themselves staring up at the stage, bodies close and compact. Like an herd a suspecting prey. Until a sudden roar sends everyone into a frenzy.
The Roar of a King.
Leona Kingscholar, The King of Beasts.
With a cocky smirk and emerald eyes, he stalks onto the stage. Displaying nothing but power. Nothing but strength. Barely dressed with anything, yet leaves you begging for more. Pleading for the lion beastman to drag you onto stage and ravish you. He dances feverishly and leaves you stubbing out the door, or passing out amongst a wall, drenched in sweat. He’s confident, so cocky in his position as Prince. Ordering you to follow and listen, and you do. He’s the bad boy, a predator to prey. The lion hiding within the tall grass. There are no rules in the savanna. There are no rules. Once you open the burnt yellow-colored door, any and all could happen. Only pray that you survive.
══════ ♡ ══════
Octavinelle.
Benevolence.
Deep and cool within the darkest depths of the ocean. Of smooth jazz and a nightclub atmosphere. Soft lighting and candles. Many call this the Mostro Lounge, though the clubroom has its special performances. Most times, it has an average audience. A break from the other rooms of NRC’s the Great Seven, a place of twisted relaxation that comes with a price. Soft cushioned seats, all well dressed, well behaved, till the siren sound begins and comes the beauty of the depth.
The Emergence of the Sea Witch.
Azul Ashengrotto, The Deep-Sea Merchant.
Seduction at its finest. An alluring smile and charming voice, as if had eight arms that pulled you onto the stage. His moves hypnotizing as he gracefully moves across, like a fish in water. Simple, soft, seductive. Drowning in the embellishments of his voice, till you, his chosen one makes it onto stage and he dances around you. Constricts you in the tentacles in this voice, luring you into false, calm waters before the climax. A loud symphony of instruments and heat. Like the arrival of a new storm. The only thing that can save lies within a golden contract, one in which you only have to sign your name. All this lies within the deep, lies behind the lilac purple door.
═══��══ ♡ ══════
Scarabia.
Mindfulness.
Energetic. A party all day, every day. A truly freeing place that makes you want to do nothing but dance and jive. But to dance and spin around several unique dance partners. Or sing and listen to the various instruments, from the thrumming of drums to the strings of guitars. The smell of the sun and the taste of spice, the sound of jewelry being thrown and forgotten, till you dance and find yourself naked. Your clothing and all your money gone from you. Til none other than the diamond in the rough appears.
Like the sound of sand in an hourglass,
Kalim Al-Asim, The Cave of Wonder’s Diamond
All that is left behind disappears into the sand of the fourth room. As the sway of energetic hands and hips brings you into a hypnotizing stare, as he moves across the room, with a smile on his face. He has an innocent aura, but aside from the overly friendly touches, he doesn’t seem all that innocent. He gives you all you desire; all that you want and beg for. You’ll forgive him for all that’s stolen. With desperate hands and desperate voices, begging him to do this and to dance this way, he obeys. Like a mouse, ready to be swallowed by the snake. Greed to appease you all. All awaits you within the land of sands, behind the door of orange.
══════ ♡ ══════
Pomefiore
Tenacity.
The room of pure perfection and poison. Of dark violets and bold red. With nothing, the smell of intoxicating perfume and caramel apples that were to die for. Everything within this room is beautiful. So perfect. With little room for sitting, but all the room for an enormous stage and a special performance for those who could afford it. Not just anyone can waltz into the room of beauty, it’s come with a deadly cost, and the beauty will get what is owed.
A Poisonous smoke that chokes you.
Vil Schoenheit, The Fairest Queen.
Slow. Seductive. Like aphrodisiacs had been pumped straight into your veins as he sings. It’s hot, as have you squirm in your seat, gasping for air, for relief at any movement he makes. Any roll of his hips, the dragging of his hands, the deepness of his voice. Yet you feel tied to your sit, unable to move as he poisons your very blood. Mirrors placed all across the room, showing you your own patheticness as you watch him dance. As you lean into his tempting touch only for him to pull away and the intoxicating show to end and you must leave the room behind the door of dark purple and deep red.
══════ ♡ ══════
Ignihyde.
Diligence.
A room of technology. Yet never the main show. Don’t expect much when arriving, for the main show never seems to appear. It’s a dead room most nights, with only a few there to sit and relax in silence. Now don’t be mistaken. An audience waits on his beck and call, waiting souls for the moment he announces he desires to perform. On the nights he does, it’s packed, people upon people, pushing and shoving to get a glimpse of him.
The Cries of the Dead.
Idia Shroud, The King of the Underworld
Like cries and mourning of the King of the Dead, begging for just a small feeling of his leather boots, just to slightly touch. As he degrades his audience for being so desperate for him. Deep and brooding, hot and heavy. It’s loud and last hours before it dies down and he once again retreats. Spending most of his time entertaining his fans with calls and private appearances. Truly a costly performance. One that you will pay with your life behind the door of blue.
══════ ♡ ══════
Lastly, Diasomnia.
Nobility.
Truly a hard room to find. Only those that are deemed worthy can find the door of green and watch what happens beyond. With candles of green flames and music that feed on you, leave you drowsy. Slumping in seats, allowing whomever to do what they please with you. Though the room is classy, truly the place of nobility, as the sound of trumpets brings your attention to the stage.
The Royalty of a Dragon.
Malleus Draconia, The King of Briar Valley.
It’s stranger than most. Whether he chooses to do an alluring dance or to sing into a mic. Maybe he’ll choose to play the violin, or simply read a book. Anything he chooses to do with being done gracefully. And be completely unforgettable. Treating each of his guests like royalty, treating each of them like prized treasure in his cave. He’s loving, yet so fierce. Yet not a sight for just anyone. You must be lucky. Special. One in a Million to find the door of green and push past painful thorns.
══════ ♡ ══════
Prepare yourself, [Name] [Surname] of the Aristotle Family.
ⓒ 2023 love-thanatopsis — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited
537 notes
·
View notes
TWISTED WONDERLAND: DEMON AU
WARNINGS: DARK CONTENT | GORE | VIOLENCE | BLOOD | CANNABALISM | EATING HUMANS | ETC | PROCEED WITH CAUTION, DARLING |
OVERVIEW:
In a world of demons and angels, you are merely a human. Tied to no one, and nothing. Living on the outskirts of a small town, away from everyone and everything. While demons to the North rage war and shed blood. This war was started by Demon King Malleus Draconia, one who despises humans. The war doesn’t bother you here, not within the Ramshackle.
—NRC [NIGHT RAVEN CAPITAL] - Overrun with Demons, the first to be attacked by the ravenous monsters. Yet they stand strong and force the demons to remain in the North. Ruled by Dire Crowley. Said to be MIA, yet keeps the capital protected.
—NBC [NOBLE BELL CITY] - The third largest city in the East. Protected against the demons that attempted to make haste toward them. They remain neutral and keep to themselves. Ran by Rollo Flamme. Said to be blessed by the angels, yet has multiple deals with demons.
—RSA [ROYAL SWORD ACADEMY] - A large school located in the South. Said to be blessed by angels and ruled by them. They protect its borders with light magic and provided to those of the West and South. No demons have attempted to reach the South.
DEMON ARMY ONE: HEARTSLABYUL ~ WRATH
The Fire Demon Army, is ruled by Commander Sanguinum, this is the human name given to the demon of pride; Riddle Rosehearts.
A tyrant, hot-headed ruler that brands each demon, usually upon their face, with the mark of a card. He rules with an iron fist and answers any command from the King with abominable action instead of mere words. He’s ruthless, and bloodthirsty. Some say you can hear his yells of order across burning fields. Sometimes at night, you can feel the heat from the war and the smell of blood. Yet when you awake, all is fine.
Positions:
—Commander: Sanguinum ~ Demon of Pride
Youngest Demon Commander, and the first way upon the earth. Reaping devastation and bringing along intense heat. Burning homes and forests, and eating those who lived within the North. His ranks travel west.
—General: Trey “Trifol” Clover ~ Demon of Gluttony
Said to have the ability to turn the toughest of meat delectable, and uses humans as his preferred meat. He is unassuming, almost human, except for the club mark beneath his eyes. The moment you notice is the moment you die.
High Ranked Soldiers:
—Cater "Amonian" Diamond ~ Demon of Lust
The flash photographer demon. Says to use his demonic camera, and once he has a photo of you, he can easily consume your soul. Some say he pretends to be a friend, a loved one, to copy the traits of anyone you know and eat you that way.
—Ace "Traepula" Trappola ~ Demon of Greed
Mind Demon, says to speak as if he was nothing more than a teenage boy, yet his words burn the skin, and you erupt in flames.
—Deuce "Spaede" Spade ~ Demon of Wrath
One seen within battle. A brute of pure unfiltered strength. Yet some say that you can hear his sobs as he tears humans in two.
"To cross his path—you're begging for him to take your head—"
══════ ♡ ══════
DEMON ARMY TWO: SAVANNA ~ ENVY
The Beast Demon Army, ruled by Commander Callidus, the human name given to the demon of Envy; Leona Kingscholar.
A carnivorous, prideful ruler that rarely appears upon the battlefield, leaving his lackeys to do his horrid work. To capture humans and bring them to his den. He rules with animal instinct. Kill or be killed. Eat or be eaten. He is savage, yet quite lazy. He brings famine. He dries the farmlands, eats, and consumes the cattle.
Positions:
—Commander: Callidus ~ Demon of Envy
Oldest Demon Commander, and the second way upon earth. Reaping devastation and bringing along the violent starvation. Some say that he refuses to harm the woman and young children. Leaving them to be killed by the third wave.
—General: Ruggie "Rubui" Bucchi ~ Demon of Sloth
The basic form of possession, taking over your body and forcing you to attack your own with a full conscious mind. Letting you harm all those around you while you plead for it to end.
High Ranked Soldiers:
—Jack "Hojal" Howl ~ Demon of Pride
A beast. Large and daunting. That you hear before you see. As jaws clamp around you before you can react. He is vicious. He was once an admired village boy, whose father was a demon. Yet they loved him nonetheless, cared for him, yet he ate all within his home. No survivors.
"You’ll be torn apart the minute you hear his sickening roar…"
══════ ♡ ══════
DEMON ARMY THREE: OCTAVINELLE ~ GREED
The Sea-Monster Demon Army, ruled by Commander Azhen, the human name given to the demon of Greed; Azul Ashengrotto.
A charming, seducing ruler. One that appears up the battlefield with no army but himself and two others. Who picks the weakest and offers them a deal. To survive and escape while his village dies. Or die with his people. A deal that ends with him collecting your soul. He brings the flood. Drowning and wiping entire towns off the map. Nothing remains after his devastation.
Positions:
—Commander: Azhen ~ Demon of Greed
The most secretive demon commander. Said to collect human souls and instead of eating them, he forces him into the body of dead demons and monsters. Forcing him to work for him once again.
—General: Jade "Jaleec" Leech ~ Demon of Wrath
To take over your mind and break you apart from the inside. He doesn’t need to lay a hand on you to kill you and leave you defenseless. Leaving you to the less-sentient beings of the night.
High Ranked Soldiers:
—Floyd "Floich" Leech ~ Demon of Gluttony
Once you’re his target, there is no escaping. He’ll squeeze and squeeze till you pop. Sometimes he’ll dine upon his kill, but more times than not. He does it merely for fun.
"You should drown—those who survive only become a snack—"
══════ ♡ ══════
DEMON ARMY FOUR: SCARABIA ~ LUST
The Desert Demon Army, ruled by Commander Kalas, the human name given to the demon of Gluttony; Kalim Al-Asim.
The most humane army. The one that seems almost a beacon. That bargains, before it attacks. Like a rattlesnake giving its warning. Leave. Surrender peacefully. Live. Escape. He can only pity. Yet humans are stubborn, as a wave of desire through the night tempts the people from their homes. To dance with the creatures, only to find death. A massacre that happened within the town square, as their bodies turned into gold.
Positions:
—Commander: Kalas ~ Demon of Gluttony
The only demon commander with human blood within him. He shows pity and wishes for this war to never happen. So it is Jamil who takes charge. Kalim is nothing but a puppet.
—General: Jamil "Viejal" Viper ~ Demon of Pride
He has no fear of ending humans. Enjoy the chaos. Using poisonous ways to trick the mind, and for them to succumb to deathly desires.
"Ignore the voice within your mind—it is a snake trying to sink his fangs into you."
══════ ♡ ══════
DEMON ARMY FIVE: POMEFIORE ~ GLUTTONY
The Blood Demon Army, ruled by Commander Vishoti, the human name given to the demon of Lust; Vil Schoenheit.
A beauty. Truly. You’d think such beauty would make them that of lust, yet they’re unsated. Enough is not enough. They force you to unwind, give more than you can give, till you're nothing but a shrivel husk. There is no bloodshed. Instead, all beauty is sucked from you. Leaving you nothing but dust.
Positions:
—Commander: Vishoti ~ Demon of Lust
The most divine of all commanders. Purely perfect. That sucks your soul to give him more beauty and strengthen his forces. He finds blood messy. Never shall it dare touch his hands, yet he is not afraid to kill, in more toxic ways.
—General: Rook "—" Hunt ~ Demon of Gluttony
No one is sure if he is a demon or merely a human bound to one. Not much is known about him. Expect that he is the only one from the fifth army to spill blood.
High Ranked Soldiers:
—Epel "Epfeli" Felmier ~ Demon of Wrath
A human boy, bound for Vil. Who is unruly and hot-headed. He doesn’t hesitate to attack. To kill and pillage. To desecrate everyone. No one in his path survives.
"Run."
══════ ♡ ══════
DEMON ARMY SIX: IGNIHYDE ~ SLOTH
The Technological Demon Army, ruled by Commander Idia, the human name given to the demon of Sloth; Idia Shroud.
The only demon who remains the same. The demon army of mutilation. Who only appears and kidnaps men and women. Taking them to his labs and testing them. Fusing them together with demons, with machines. A bloody mess that he creates that he sends back to their village to eat and kill. It’s sad that his "children" only last a few hours before they cry in pain and fall apart.
Positions:
—Commander: Idia ~ Demon of Sloth
They say he adores children, and refuses to hurt them. Allowing them to survive the destruction that follows. He sweeps the children in his dead embrace and gives them a new life as demons.
—General: Ortho "Ortho" Shroud ~ Demon of Sloth
A machine, demon, human hybrid. That is Idia’s shadow and carries out any orders without hesitation. There is no escaping Ortho.
"—He’ll turn you into a machine… He’ll sew your flesh to the ones you care for… Take your life before he does…"
══════ ♡ ══════
DEMON KINGDOM: DIASOMNIA ~ PRIDE
The King, ruling over all demons. He is the cause for this. The reason that all that befalls you and your world. No one knows much about the Kingdom, except that they despise humans. Or mortality.
Some say that Malleus Draconia, the Demon of Pride, who has no human name, fell in love with a mortal. Yet the humans couldn’t accept that, so they killed the mortal. Sending the King’s Lovers laid within a box. Others say the King kidnapped a mortal, locking him far away, and the humans fought back to retrieve the lost mortal, who was beloved royalty. Only for the demon to kill his lover in retaliation.
Positions:
—King: Malleus Draconia ~ Demon of Pride
The devil-horned King. Who hates humans.
—General: Lilia Vanrouge ~ Demon of Envy
Said to hate war and love humans. Found beside Malleus most times, yet some say they see him within the human forests.
High Ranked Soldiers:
—Sebek Zigvolt ~ Demon of Wrath
Half-Human and Half-Demon. Uses nothing but an ax and is immovable.
—Silver ~ Demon of Sloth
A human bound to Malleus. Truly a pity.
"I cannot help you…"
This man.
Stranger. Who appeared within the dead of night, asking for food and water. You know best then to deny, in case he brings wrath for your bitter heart.
You sit beside the fireplace, pulling the blanket farther over your shoulders, eyes glancing out the window. All looks fine. Silent. Yet you know better. Beyond the mountain range. Where war and bloodshed are happening. The man dines on the lukewarm stew, having already chugged his water. He’s dressed oddly. As if he was a crow. Yet he looks poor. Except for the golden mask that covers his face. He sneezes and you flinch, blinking, as you glance at the man as he seems to laugh at himself. You turn from him, returning your gaze out the window. The fire crackles, and you slowly exhale.
"Worried about the demons?"
"what?" You’re caught off guard. The man has shifted to where he’s now looking out the window.
"Worried? You don’t listen, do you?" He chuckles, waving his hand in a joking motion as you look rightfully so offended. He stands, stretching his muscles and moving to your ratted couch. Plopping down and eagerly patting the seat beside him. "Sit. Sit."
You do. Keeping distance from the stranger, yet he doesn’t seem bothered. "You never answered my question." You peek at him, and as expected, he’s staring. Slightly tilting his head like a bird. You almost smile.
"… I am… they’re getting closer…" You look back out the window, listening to the wind blow against your old home.
"I see… If it provides any comfort, you won’t die." He states matter-of-factly, and you can’t help but be confused. How can he promise that? Yet you don’t fully deny his words. You know better than anyone what his forest holds. Weirder things have happened.
"How do you know?"
The man shuffles through his pockets. Patting himself down, you can see his clothing. Elegant and expensive. He’s more important than you thought. He gives an excited yell, almost like a chirp, as he pulls a letter from his pocket. A letter horribly crinkled and horribly taken care of. He passes to you with a proud grin, more for himself that he kept the letter, then actually giving it to you.
Your name is on the letter, with a forest green wax seal. Unbroken. Dread fills your stomach as your fingers graze over the parchment. "I'll be going. We will meet again."
"Wai—" You look up from the envelope, only to find the place where the man was empty. He was gone. Yet black feathers remain where he once was. Magick. You sigh. Standing up from your seat, glancing back at the envelope before looking out the window. Beyond the forest, you could see the light of fire. Raging on. You tap the letter, pulling your blanket further over your arms, before walking towards the wooden steps to your bedroom.
"You'll survive—"
ⓒ 2023 love-thanatopsis — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited.
648 notes
·
View notes
Imagine the reverse of the rent-a-girlfriend au where Yuu is the one being rented out?
It would be so chaotic, like you wouldn’t have a moment of free time. You’d be sooo busy. Like the absolute jealousy would be ridiculous. To the point people would start purposely messing up dates and everything. It would devolve into madness, especially if you had favorites.
Like your faves would not shut up about being your favorite, would rub it in 25/8. It would be such a problem. So go from renting, to trying to get you to be their actual partner. Thus beginning competitions.
226 notes
·
View notes
*breaks down the door, panting*
I GOT A FUCKING AU
IT'S BASICALLY HOW TO TRAIN YOUR DRAGON MIXED WITH THE SACRIFICIAL PRINCESS AND THE KING OF BEASTS
Humanity vs. animals!
Beast men are ACTUAL beasts, and people fear them!
There are few who don't and want to live in harmony with them, but they are considered crazy and often banished or killed.
It's sort of a bunch of ancient societies.
Beasts are often hunted, and several species have gone extinct or are getting there.
Little do the humans know, the beasts can take the form of humans, but they have to hide their animal features from the actual humans in order to survive!
I was like- Holy shit... this is an amazing idea...
You've been raised for his. The white satin gloves are fit and firm against your hands, knees digging into the stone ground as your parents stand over you, sheer white veils covering their faces. While the chief of the village stands behind them, hands spread wide as he chants the words of the ceremony. Words that your father taught you long ago.
"WE BECKON THEE. TO SATISFY THE BEASTIAL NATIONS AND ITS MONSTROUS KING—"
He stands overhead a cliff, and the ground rumbles. The forest shakes and sways as if something ran through them. You keep your head low and hands clasped within your lap. As you were taught. You have no qualms, no anger that you wish to show, no tears you wish to cry. Even if you showed such emotion, it would be rendered meaningless. To the crowd you awaits eagerly and to your parents who knew that this would be the very last time they saw you.
"WE OFFER UP THE SACRIFICE!"
You aren't sure when was the last time you heard your name, yet the forest gives a deathly roar, and the chief moves back, until he's safely behind you. While your mother and father move to kneel before you. Your mother removes her veil, eyes bloodshot and lips quivering yet she places it on you, letting her hand linger for a moment. It's a mother's duty to protect her child and she failed. Horribly so. She moves away from you, and you hear her hiccup. Even if you wanted to return, she, and the rest of the village would be gone. Leaving this town for a different place. One where you couldn't find them.
You turn to your father, and he undos his necklace placing it elegantly around your throat. Whispering words of protection, yet he failed to protect you. And he knows. So he steps away, leaving you on the cliff slide alone. You don't cry. You can't cry, simply sit and remain still. The forest once again rumbles and from the woods a carriage being lifted by a single large crown with red eyes. It flaps it's wings before pulling the black carriage to the heel side, there's nothing noticable except for the door that swings open, and the simple word.
"Come."
And you do.
166 notes
·
View notes
Question for the rent-a-girlfriend au. Can we subscribe for poly? Like if Yuu wants to have sex with two guys is that possible?
Absolutely! In fact it would be encouraged! The more boyfriends you rent, the more you have to spend. Though i’m sure there would be several half-off sales and everything.
Example Popular:
Deuce and Ace: A classic and probably most common rented duo. In fact NRC would encourage for you to rent both boys. These two would definitely take the main spotlight for beginners wanting to rent and try poly relationships.
Riddle and Trey: Another classic duo and also highly sought after. Though this duo takes poly slightly serious then most, so if you want to rent a more serious poly relationship, then this is your go too.
Leona and Ruggie: There’s also random pairings they’ll do based on customer interests. Ruggie is and Fan fave and same with Leona, plus many enjoy the lion n hyena vibe they got going on.
Vil and Rook: Famous Superstar and his bodyguard. Literally a head turner. Vil alone is already mad expensive and Rook would tag along as a freebie of sorts. Lots of fun.
Kalim and Jamil: Another type of master and servant type aesthetic. One that people love. Plus childhood friends, i mean, who wouldnt want to partake.
Vil, Leona, and Malleus: This trio was made outta pure spite for some, since in their desc they didnt get along. Reigns true in poly, tho there is some love.
Malleus and Leona: Another one for pure competition. If you wanna get fought over.
Leona and Vil: Same here. If you wanna be like treasure, yet caught in the middle of some weird tug-of-war, then here ya go.
Azul, Jade, and Floyd: A very common trio. It’s rare to see Azul without being followed by three other people(including you) It is intense tho.
Azul and Idia: Super duper cute. Like these two get along real well and makes a great poly duo, like love it.
Theses are only the main headliners. So you can mix and match and if you want more than two bfs and you want to add in size and number, then you can absolutely. Though there is a lot of planning in advance and lots of money.
225 notes
·
View notes
“Folklore”
| TWISTED WONDERLAND: DEMON AU |
| 01.07.2023 | 0.3K | Mature |
| Demon!Deuce Spade X GN!Reader |
| Dark Content | Blood | Demons | Implied Murder | Implied Violence | Fire | Etc. | Proceed with Caution, Dearest |
You wonder if he knew he was scary?
It’s not that he means to be. Running your wet hands through his navy-blue hair with a soft smile, making him squat in front of you. Letting you scratch and wash his scalp, an act you’ve done many times before. Your fingers brushing against the base of his two broken off black horns, swatting the end of his tail every time he tried to brush it against you nose. Yet you can understand why. He carries the mark of Heartslabyul.
The mark of his past actions, that lay clear upon his face. Your thumb swipes over it. It used to bother you. Youve awaken in the night with terrors, screaming in fear. You had to force yourself to turn away from him in fear that bile would rise in your throat and you’d breakdown. You know Deuce has committed several atrocities, several that simply cannot be uttered by human lips. Yet he saved you. Bound his immortal life to you. You cannot hate him. Not anymore.
You wonder if he knew the village would talk about him?
Pulling the black cloak further over Deuce’s head with a forced smile, pretending that everything would be alright. Doing your best to conceal him before traveling down the mountain. Usually you’d go alone, completely the trek quickly and quietly, yet it’s dangerous. They know you house him. They know you care for the wretched demon. So now he goes with you, walking behind like a silent reminder of all he could do. All the acts he could commit if they so dare chose to treat you unjustly. You both enter the town, buying the needed food and supplies for the rest of the month. Ignoring the harsh whispers, the daunting glares, the grim faces of the townsfolk, making you pull Deuce along.
You wonder if he knew the town wanted your both dead?
“Deuce, come on inside.”
“But I finally caught the pig!” Holding up the squealing pig with a wide grin. He tries so hard to be human. To be a good person. To leave the past in the past, to enjoy all that the mortal world has to offer beside blood and war. Yet your eyes remained on the several figures outside. Hunters. Most certainly called by the town folk, who grown tired of you leaving in the woods and coming to their town. Tired of you and your pet.
“Deuce. Inside.” Speaking sternly, making Deuce’s brows furrow in concern. He rises while holding the squealing pig and begins walking towards the cottage. His steps are slow, and you move from the door, stepping out slightly. The pig lets out a fearful shriek, breaking from his grip and dropping to the forest ground running into the forest. “Wait!” Yanking the back of Deuce’s shirt, just as an arrow shot from the trees, killing the pig. Right where Deuce once sat.
You’re sure he knew… He is a demon after all.
You shudder, hand covering your mouth as you remain crouched on the ground. Eyes brimming with tears. Watching your cottage, one that you grew up in, with years and years of memories, belongings. All go up in flames. You cry. And over the loud crackling of fire, you could hear the soft music of the town’s festival. As if rejoicing in your suffering. “...” Deuce stands unsure, before dropping his cloak over your shoulders, gently rising you to your feet. Pulling you away from your home, deeper into the forest. A deep scowl on his face. For whatever it is you desire. He’ll give.
But you guess it doesn’t matter…
Running my hands through his matted navy-blue hair, ignoring the red staining it, as it coats your hands. His head within your lap, eyes half-lidded, you hum softly. Staring down at the him, scarlet decorating the lower half of his face. He has your soul. A desperate deal you made one the day he recklessly saved you. And you have his endless devotion. The breeze spreading ashes throughout the air. The smell of burning wood and thick copper, overwhelming your senses.
The soft crackling of the village warming your bodies through the cold night.
ⓒ 2023 love-thanatopsis — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited.
295 notes
·
View notes
"Divine nor Forsaken" Ch.One
| 01.17.23 | 4.9 K | Rated R |
Multi-Character X GN!Reader [TWST: DEMON AU]
GENERAL LIST: | Characters 18+ | Dark Content | Yandere | War | Death | Violence | Blood | Gore | Body Mutilation | Abuse | Threats | Smut | Noncon/Dubcon | Consensual | Horror | Poly | Etc. | Proceed with Caution, Dearest. |
T.Manor.Notes: This is extreme dark content and these warnings don't apply directly to this, but overall. This list may very well grow. Please head warnings.
| Masterlist | Male Version | Female Version |
| Overview | Ch.One | Ch.Two |
Green flames flicker and dance wildly, uncontrolled and free.
Placed upon black metal torches with silver engravings of dragons. Small and so unnoticeable, yet each placed within the great throne room, made of obsidian and dark cobblestone with towering pillars of black marble and tall ceilings. A throne chair that sits above all others, with seven wide steps. He leans back, a bored expression upon his pale face, as a thorn crown sits upon his head. He counts the seconds, waiting for the old grand clock to chime with ancient golden bells. He can hear the turning of gears as the heavy black oak throne doors prepare to be opened. He can hear a pair of hurried footsteps. One which is anxious, while the second also hurried, yet calm, unbothered almost. The doors to the throne room creak as they open slowly on their own, which is far too slow for the impatient one of the duo so he merely pushes the doors open without issue. Just as the clock chimes. It sends a shiver down the King’s spine and seems to shake the entire castle.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Six.
Seven.
Seven chimes for the seventh morning hour. The king lets out a thoughtful sigh, a mental note to have someone repair the old gifted clock. He pulls his attention from his thoughts, turning his gaze upon his two most loyal knights. Both dressed in black clothing with trims of green and buttons of silver. Yet a metallic smell radiates off them.
They just arrived back from the battlefield.
"My King—" the taller of the two knights, yet the younger of the pair, straightens his posture. Giving an impossibly deep bow that the King is sure slightly hurts. Yet trying to persuade the knight to relax within his presence always falls on deaf ears. The knight’s voice is deep and assertive, yet slightly wavers as if ashamed.
"My King." The older one bows, yet not as deep. His loyalty is unwavering, yet doesn’t need to hurt himself to prove his everlasting devotion. His voice is monotone and gives nothing away.
The king deeps his chin in acknowledgment, waving his hand for them to speak. The younger knight steps forward, with light-green hair. He clears his throat, pulling a thick piece of yellowed parchment paper from his coat. It’s most definitely a long list of all that transpired the week while they were away, and the nudge he receives from his elder gives the knight the impression to simply summarize and only tell the important parts.
"It was an ordinary week, with few incidents from the humans—" The King nods as the knight’s serious yellow-greenish eyes dance across the several pages before his brows raise slightly upon finding something. He almost hesitates and shifts in his place, before looking at the King. "We have found traces of the traitor, Dire Crowley, My King. The first and fifth armies last saw him moving to the South. While the sixth and third armies believe to have seen him head in the direction of the Ramshackles."
Dire Crowley. Ruler of the North and said to have fled amongst the first wave. Like a coward. The King hums in thought, thinking of multiple reasons as to why the traitorous crow would flee. It’s not death he fears. Yet who could know that old crow could possibly be thinking? He acts more on whims than he does on plans.
Letting a hot exhale from his nose, the King reveals nothing upon his face as he looks at the older knight with unreadable light-blue eyes that depending on the light could look light-purple. He doesn’t need papers, having oddly enough a good memory for things that are of high importance. "Within the Ramshackle. We have found the pact bearer. Scouts say to have stumbled upon a person. I, myself, have checked. What they say is true. "
This catches the King’s attention.
He sits up slightly straighter. His eyes run over the silver-haired knight for any sign of lies. There is none. "Though Crowley has already had contact with them." Another voice. A man of short stature appears standing before the King with black hair and hot pink highlights. Large magenta eyes that were clearly fascinated and entertained. The King doesn’t need time to think over his options, opening his mouth for the first time this evening, his words firm.
"Force the pact bearer from their home. Send them in the direction of the first army. Tell them nothing of the pact bearer. If what you say is true, then they should easily form a pact—Is there any more to discuss?"
The King’s right hand clears his throat, moving closer to the King, a sudden seriousness upon his face. This has the king wordlessly send away his two knights. Before turning his full attention to the magenta-eyed demon.
"The armies are becoming restless. Some even think you’re unfit. The pact bearer could very well be your undoing."
"Or fix all that is broken." His words are curt, and the man bows before the king. Steeping away as the King rises, stepping from his throne and down the steps. It has been long since a pact bearer existed, the one to uphold the balance between the divine and the forsaken.
A balance that King Draconia wants to restore, this time with the scales in his favor.
══════ ♡ ══════
You awaken to a knock.
One hard and fast, that has you groggily rubbing your eyes and completely dazed as you stumble out of bed. Recklessly putting on your slippers and wrapping a thin blanket around you, using your hands to clutch it close as you lazily bumble through the dark. Your fingers glide against the patchy wallpaper wall, leading you down the creaky wooden steps and toward the front door.
This isn’t an unusual occurrence. Being awoken sometime during the night. Occasionally those from the village make their way to your cottage with urgent news. News that always involves demons. News that you hate receiving, yet you take each message with a mummer of thanks.
Other times, it’s villagers, those you knew and were close to, saying final goodbyes, with everything they have packed into a rickety wooden cart pulled by an old horse. Always speaking on how’ll they’ll travel south. To lay within the safety of angels and the Divine.
Yet more times than not, they’ll return, with less than when they left. Or only their belongings returned, yet no bodies followed.
You shake off the thoughts, exhaling through your nose and undoing the metal locks, before opening the door. You blink in surprise.
A man, tall and dressed in a black cloak with black feathers poking from the fabric. He had messy black hair, and a mask, golden, that reflected in the light of the moon. You step back.
It’s rare to get strangers.
“Hello~ See I was just passing by,” he points to the path behind him, yet he has no bags, no horses, no carriage, and not a single lantern, none that you could see within the dark forest. The wind blows and you shiver.
“—and I am oh so hungry. And oh so thirsty.” He seems unfazed by the cold. Your brows furrow and you have every right to turn away this strange man, yet you know better. Your mother always spoke about spirits that could grant wishes to those who showed them kindness. It’s a silly notion, yet as you step inside, forcing a small smile upon your lips, you can’t help but listen to your mother even while she’s away.
“Oh, thank you! You are so very kind!” As he enters your home, feathers drop every time he walks as he takes a seat at your old dining room chair as you move to the kitchen. “Such a… quaint home~”He seems to struggle to find a word, before landing on ‘quaint’.
“Thank you?” Your home is old, with creaky oak floors and wooden beams that lined the roof, with chipping wallpaper, even if it’s been rebuilt by your father, and the layering wallpaper, yet you love it all the same.
You bring him a wooden cup of water, before moving a heavy bronze pot from the makeshift freezer, struggling for a moment to place it upon the kitchen fire, using flint and steel to start up the flames, using a metal hook to keep it suspended over the fire. Removing the heavy lid, you use a wooden label to stir the mixture of thicken milk, potatoes, chicken, and rice. Before re-covering it and wiping your hands upon a kitchen towel. You turn back to the dining table, finding the seat empty and the cup drained, and you step out of the kitchen.
You hadn’t heard him move. You step into the living room, finding the man tending to the dwindling embers within the fireplace. Before, in a hot flash, as fire shoots from his palm, the fire is alive. Magick.
“Is this your first time seeing magick in person?”
He puts on his glove and tilts his head to smile at you, and you nod. Magick isn’t common within the Ramshackles. Most you’ll see and interact with are the Adventurers who cross through, or bottle magick, which is usable for the average non-magick user. “Well, it is always a pleasure to entertain!” He gives an oddly graceful bow, and you can’t help but stare at this man in curiosity. He’s eccentric like your father—who’s quite odd in his own special way. “Now a question for a question. Tell me, do you live alone? For a house this big, I am sure you have siblings. Parents?”
You have a feeling that if this man wanted to kill you, he would’ve already.
“No siblings... But I do live with my parents. They’re away.” Your eyes drift out the window, it’s dark beyond the glass, “they wanted to help in the North. So, I haven’t seen them in a few years.”
“That’s very brave of them—” He pauses as if in thought, before looking at you expectantly. “Your turn for a question!“
“… Where are you traveling from?”
He almost seems to preen himself as he glides down his feathers, which ultimately does nothing since they merely pop out once he pulls his hands away, yet he doesn’t seem to notice. Far too proud of himself. “The North. The Capital, to be exact. But I escaped. Quite a task, yet, alas, I did.” Your brow furrows.
North. He managed to escape. You take a hesitant step toward the window, then it is completely possible to survive and escape. The sound of whistling snaps you out of your thoughts, catching your attention. The stew was ready.
“That smells absolutely splendid! I had quite the journey, [Name].” He settles himself into the dining room chair, oblivious to your staring. You hadn’t told him your name… Did you?
“… How do you know my name?”
You step around him, suddenly aware of how dark your home was. Even with the fire bright, it felt like it was creeping in, surrounding you, choking you— “It’s written on your door.” The darkness seems to halt and you blink. Everything is as it was. You nod, making your way to the kitchen and preparing a bowl. Shaking your head, and murmuring under your breath for being so paranoid. The warmth of the soup spreads through your palms as you carry it towards the table, placing it in front of the crow-like man, and readjusting your blanket. “You said a question for a question… May I ask another?”
“Of course~” There’s a hint of mischief in his voice.
“What is it like… The north… Has it truly fallen..?”
The man eats slowly, pausing for a moment, before resuming with a slow drawn-out bite. “It has.“ Your heart sinks and you step from the table, moving over to the window. It’s an automatic response, one that you’ve trained yourself to do since the war started. Since your mother and father left.
“With each day, another portion of the North is swallowed by fire, followed by floods. Carried upon the winds are the howls of people, and you can smell nothing but blood and ash. The North has truly fallen…” He says the last line with slight hesitance, if more to confirm the fact to himself than to you. You search the dark woods, searching upon the horizon, beyond the mountain line that you knew existed beyond that shroud of darkness.
Your parents are out there.
You know that they could possibly be—you shake the idea from your head. They would come back, as they always did. As they promised. You listen to the fire crackle, and you let out a sigh.
“Worried that they’ll come here?”
“What?” You turn to the man, whose bowl is completely empty. He tilts his head from you and then out the window. “Worried? You are awfully quiet.“ You exhale.
“…It’s been a long night…” You force a smile, and he waves with a laugh, moving to plop down on the dilapidated couch. Patting the old velvet cushion beside him. “Sit. Sit.” More of a command than a suggestion. And one you listen to. You sit beside him, wrapping the blankets further over your arms. “You never answered my question.“ He almost sings the words, tilting his head towards the flames, yet his eyes are still on you. Observing you. Taking note of who you sit, of how you fidget and clutch the fabric of your covers. Yet he says nothing.
“…I am… The only thing that separates us is a mountain range…” And your parents. Yet you can’t say that.
“Then leave.“ Your brows furrow, deeply offended with the mere thought, lips drew together and you almost sneer at the strange man. It’s nearly impossible to leave. And you have a home, one your father and mother built and restored, you can’t leave it all behind. You can’t. The man seems to notice your conflicted feelings and the slight bitterness that bubbles within your gut and he clears his throat.
“If I may provide comfort… You won’t die.” He states with such certainty that you can’t help but grimace. How would he know…? How could he promise that…? Yet a portion of you believes him. That this odd man has some truth to his words. Since all the most trusting of truths come in all odd ways. “How do you know?”
He seems to light up. Patting himself down, revealing the clothing he wore beneath his cloak. Elegant and sofisticated. Made of silk and lace. Ones that would cost a fortune to own. He has money. Lots of it. Shuffling in his seat, he searches various pockets and mutters under his breath, before producing a thick envelope with an almost gleeful shout, which sounded similar to a bird squawking. He passes you the letter with a proud grin, which is more for himself for carrying the letter than giving it to you.
Your name is on the letter, messily written, yet familiar, with a hurried forest green wax. Unbroken. Dread fills your stomach as your fingers graze against the parchment. “Welp! I’ll be going. Until me meet again~”
“Wai—” You look up from the envelope, only to find the man gone. He was gone. Yet black feathers remained in his spot. You let out an exasperated gasp, brows furrowing as you stand from your seat. You step over the feathers and moved towards the window. Nothing was out there. You tap the letter against the glass before stepping away.
Sleep.
You needed to sleep. You stiffen a yawn, making sure the doors were locked, before tossing the letter onto the dining table. Sparing a glance, before heading back upstairs. You’d read it in the morning.
══════ ♡ ══════
Morning comes faster than you’d like, the events of last night merely a fog in your memories.
Barely dressed for the day, wearing a simple dark cyan button up shirt and black loose fitting pants, standard uniform for your job. Blinking the sleep from your eyes as you attach your white apron around your hips, you lazily make your down the creaky steps. Moving to the kitchen, your body on clear autopilot, as you grab a clay cup and filling it with water, before drinking it carelessly.
You have a throbbing headache. You’re sure that you’ll be late for work, but at the moment you don’t care. Almost slamming the cup down, you let out a loud, tired groan. Your boss, he’ll forgive you. He always does. You let out a tired cough, leaning against your counters, running a hand over your forehead. You’re sure you don’t have any more painkillers, having used the last two pills a week ago since your last headache.
“Mr. Gerken should have some… Or ill walk it off.” You speak aloud, pushing from the counter, moving over to your coat rack, and wrapping the cloak over your shoulders, using the leather strings to secure it. Sliding a thin scarf around your neck. You grab a familiar brass key, tucking it into your apron pocket and your small coin purse, before glancing over the room, seeing if you had forgotten anything.
Suddenly remembering the letter from last night. You multi-task, putting on your leather shoes as you hop over to the table while using the sunlight to look over the envelope. You contemplate for a moment, before sighing. If it’s important, then you don’t want to risk it around desperate people trying to find a way to survive. You place it back on the table, opting to grab your wooden basic before leaving your home.
Fresh mountain hair fills your senses, cold air rushing into your lungs making you shiver. It was sometime early morning. You block the sun from your eyes as you look up at the clear sky. There were hardly any clouds.
Your gaze moves the mountain line far in front of your home, thick black clouds, slight and threatening. It grows bigger every day…
Letting out a puff of air, you’re turning to face your door, yanking the door shut, which rattled the windows. This door always fought against being closed. Making sure the door was secured, you pull out your key and lock both locks on the door. Pulling the cloak hood over your head and the scarf over your nose, you step away from the door. Your mother and father’s name faded yet still there, while your name stood boldly. As if it was just painted with your mother’s curly handwriting. You were sure the paint had faded off years ago. Your fingers touch the old wood, glazing over the letters of your name.
You hope your parents are alright. You tuck the metal key into the pockets of the apron.
You spin around, eyes trailing along the familiar walking along the old stone steps. One a bright grey now dull and worn, your father placed the old steps years ago, before you were born possibly. Yet anytime you stepped out of the house, he let out a dramatic sigh and spoke of an artist who was so great. So grand. To create such marvelous and everlasting stones. Your mother would sometimes indulge him, swooning over the craftsman, speaking about how’d she marry the artist? Other times, she would ignore my father and purposely ignore the steps with an impish grin.
You smile at the memory. While your father could carve the most beautiful things into the weirdest of objects, your mother could weave stories from air. Each step is engraved with a different animal, each with its own story.
A rabbit, who was always late yet a messenger. Who never led those astray, but had quite the temper.
A lion, with a cunning personality and a heart of gold, yet trapped beneath stone.
An octopus, benevolent yet tricked those to fall into its trap, yet was shy.
A snake, a trickster that offered wishes only to screw your words, yet if given the chance, the snake was a loyal companion.
A raven, beautiful and majestic. With onyx wings and poisonous words that could enchant anyone, yet was so lonely.
A hound, with three heads that tore and ripped through flesh and feasted upon poor souls, yet lost a dear family member, so the hound lost its way.
Then, dragon, you step on the last stone. Your mother’s favorite stone. About a lonely, lonely dragon who could never love nor be loved. There was no redeeming qualities for the dragon. Your mother believed that those who would do good would do good, but this dragon, this dragon, would never do good. Therefore, there was no redemption.
There are some things, my little dove, that we cannot change— “Such is the way with people.” You finish your mother’s quote, your voice merely flying away with the wind. She, within every story she told, would weave lessons and morals. Yet you never knew why, why your mother loved these seven distinct animals. Using your shoes to kick off the dirt. Staring at the large coiled dragon, one that took your father days to finish, and several broken stone slabs.
It was dirty. You make a mental note to clean it once you return. Shifting the empty basket in your hold, you continue on. Stepping off the final stone and walking through the forests. Glancing through the trees, you could see the distant town. You remember the walks.
══════ ♡ ══════
“Gotcha!” He let out a satisfied shout, causing you to shriek in laughter, kicking your legs as your father held you in the air. Pretending to bite your stomach, tickling you in the promises. Your cheeks hurt from laughing and smiling, unable to fight against your father.
“Gotcha!” Your father yelps, clutching you to his chest as your mother attacks from behind, nails digging into his sides and ticking, a ferocious grin upon her face. Her basket of goods is placed along the stone steps, as she joins in on the fun. “Escape!” She laughs as you break from your father’s grasp, causing him to shout, unable to get you as you run across the pseudo-front lawn. You catch your breath, watching your father turn the tides on your father before she could run to you. He grabs her yet ends up tripping on their own feet. They land with a thud, the air knocked from their lungs. Yet your father protects your mother’s head as he lies on her. You let out a giggle, running across the lawn, and joining the pile, which makes your father wheeze and your mother laugh.
“Hello my little dove~” She rises a hand to caress your face, gently pinching your cheek, eyes filled with so much happiness and love. As leaves and twigs got into her. Yet your moment is ruined when your father stretches his arm back to secure you as he got up with a chuckle. Your arms wrap around his neck, as he helps your mother with a laugh, kissing her cheek.
══════ ♡ ══════
You blink from the memory, since as long as you can remember, your mother and father truly loved each other. How they met is a mystery to you, cause every time you ask, they’d tell you it was fate. Fate that tied them together. Your father said it was the Divine that the moment he laid eyes upon your mother, he was smitten. While your mother was apprehensive, yet overtime gave in.
When thinking back, you remember the pain when your mother spoke of it. Though she has no regret in loving your father, but you assume it was forbidden. They arrived in the Ramschackles 21 years ago, eight months before your birth. Getting everything together for their bundle of joy. You have no doubt in your mind that they loved you more than anything. The ground crunches beneath your feet as the wind fans your face. You look out as the town grows closers. Your father was a blacksmith. He once spoke of fancy golden balls and festivals fit for the Gods. He worked with every metal known to man, yet threw it all away for your mother. Who, very proudly, exclaimed how would do it all again and again. While your mother, you don’t know much. She was a farm girl, yet had to leave behind her home. You don’t know why.
Letting out a sigh, the sounds of chatter and music growing louder and louder, the smells of food and sweets wafting into your nose. Your stomach grumbles. You pick up your pace, jogging the rest of the way down the mountain. Smiling at the familiar sights before you, carriages pulling along the roads, carts, and livestock. It was busy as conversations mixed. You shimmy through the crowd before spotting a familiar brownstone building. ‘Mr.Gerken’s Finest‘ is a large popular tavern. You slip through the open doors, and two common patrons waving or nodding in hello as you slip over your scarf and cloak.
“Good Mornin’ Robin. Hilton.” Slipping into the back as you hung up your outerwear before glancing around. Mr.Gerken wasn’t here at the moment and it seemed to be just you. You move back to the front, standing behind the bar and checking through needed supplies. The night shift had cleaned properly.
“Any plans for the weekend?” Hilton, an old man, with blonde hair with streaks of grey, he’s been going to this tavern since you could remember. He always orders a simple whiskey that he hardly touches. “Uh, not really…. Tending to the garden, I guess. Or working“ You grab a rag, choosing to wipe down the counter in boredom. The two men laugh. “You plan to get a boyfriend?” Hilton asks with a smirk, “or girlfriend! We don’ judge.” Robin, slightly younger, with messy black hair and stubble, he looks half asleep, yet snickers with Hilton as if they’re school boys. You can only roll your eyes.
“[Name]! There’s my favorite [Name], and only [Name]! Been lookin’ all over! And here you are, workin’.” Mr. Genkin is a short, plump man, who’s significantly balding, yet has a large beard and mustache.
”Sure am!” You don’t plan to correct him, letting him laugh happily. As he moves to the back, you can still hear his laugh. The morning passes slowly, with only Robin and Hilton occasionally heckling you, or playing cards, which Hilton is horribly bad at and lost nearly 50 gold. Soon the afternoon rolls around, and the empty tavern slowly becomes busier as two more workers arrive. Sam, a happy middle-aged woman with brown hair and two ten-year-old twins, and Tom, an older teen who always rants about how much he hates working here, yet is one of the best workers.
“Darlin'~ Ya hear? Some say the town up in the west got attacked.” Sam’s voice is a whisper. The Ramshackles isn’t one big town. There are multiple, spread out all across the dense Ramshackle forests, yet surrounded on all sides by thick mountain ranges. The western village was one who resided near the western mountains. You’re not supposed to speak of the war in the Tavern, one that Mr. Genkin had been insanely serious about. But Sam is a chatty woman who can’t help herself.
“When?” Your voice sounds slightly panicked, and Sam notices. She waves her hands and shakes her head eagerly. As if just remembering she’s not supposed to talk about demons and war while working. “Nope. Nope. Ma lips are sealed!” You let out an exasperated sigh as he darts off, grabbing trays to hand out orders.
You continue to busy yourself. Making drinks, and chatting with familiar faces, until you feel like someone is watching you. Your eyes try and subtly dart across the room, as you listen to the customer rant about his recent divorce with his wife. You let out hums, hardly listening, till your eyes land on lime-green eyes.
You both stare, neither one of you making a move. The air seems to chill, and you feel air leave your lungs, yet they don’t return. You can hear muffled calls of your name, yet your lips can’t move.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
The thing blinks and you gasp for air, nearly stumbling over. The bar helps stabilize you. You’re sure that without it, you would’ve fallen over. Men and women had ran up to the man, yelling at him for being weird and creepy, to stop staring at you, defending you—You need them to stop—Demanding he leaves or else. The air feels tense, as if electricity shot through you. He’s mad.
The man rises from his seat, shrouded in all black, yet his sneer is prominent. He grabs the first man by his shoulders, glancing at you as if to make sure you were looking. You can see the corner of his lips quirked upward. He’s grinning.
‘Look.’
The tavern falls silent, followed by a thud. You can feel it on your skin and your stomach lurches. Pale hands. Clothing. Face. His face. Get it off. Get it off. There’s red. Red. The man before him split in two. Ripped apart. Blood. You can feel it on you. Get it off. A scream, shrill and loud, snaps everyone out of the scene that unfolded before them.
“IT’S A DEMON!”
ⓒ 2023 love-thanatopsis — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited.
207 notes
·
View notes
"Divine nor Forsaken" Ch.One
| 01.17.23 | 4.9 K | Rated R |
Multi-Character X Fem!Reader [TWST: DEMON AU]
GENERAL LIST: | Characters 18+ | Dark Content | Yandere | War | Death | Violence | Blood | Gore | Body Mutilation | Abuse | Threats | Smut | Noncon/Dubcon | Consensual | Horror | Poly | Etc. | Proceed with Caution, Dearest. |
T.Manor.Notes: This is extreme dark content and some of these warnings don't apply directly to this chapter, but overall. This list may very well grow. Please head warnings.
| Masterlist | Male Version | Gender-Neutral Version |
| Overview | Ch.One | Ch.Two | Ch.Three |
Green flames flicker and dance wildly, uncontrolled and free.
Placed upon black metal torches with silver engravings of dragons. Small and so unnoticeable, yet each placed within the great throne room, made of obsidian and dark cobblestone with towering pillars of black marble and tall ceilings. A throne chair that sits above all others, with seven wide steps. He leans back, a bored expression upon his pale face, as a thorn crown sits upon his head. He counts the seconds, waiting for the old grand clock to chime with ancient golden bells. He can hear the turning of gears as the heavy black oak throne doors prepare to be opened.
He can hear a pair of hurried footsteps. One which is anxious, while the second also hurried, yet calm, unbothered almost. The doors to the throne room creak as they open slowly on their own, which is far too slow for the impatient one of the duo so he merely pushes the doors open without issue. Just as the clock chimes. It sends a shiver down the King’s spine and seems to shake the entire castle.
One.
Two.
Three.
Four.
Five.
Six.
Seven.
Seven chimes for the seventh morning hour. The king lets out a thoughtful sigh, a mental note to have someone repair the old gifted clock. He pulls his attention from his thoughts, turning his gaze upon his two most loyal knights. Both dressed in black clothing with trims of green and buttons of silver. Yet a metallic smell radiates off them.
They just arrived back from the battlefield.
"My King—" the taller of the two knights, yet the younger of the pair, straightens his posture. Giving an impossibly deep bow that the King is sure slightly hurts. Yet trying to persuade the knight to relax within his presence always falls on deaf ears. The knight’s voice is deep and assertive, yet slightly wavers as if ashamed.
"My King." The older one bows, yet not as deep. His loyalty is unwavering, yet doesn’t need to hurt himself to prove his everlasting devotion. His voice is monotone and gives nothing away.
The king deeps his chin in acknowledgment, waving his hand for them to speak. The younger knight steps forward, with light-green hair. He clears his throat, pulling a thick piece of yellowed parchment paper from his coat. It’s most definitely a long list of all that transpired the week while they were away, and the nudge he receives from his elder gives the knight the impression to simply summarize and only tell the important parts. "It was an ordinary week, with few incidents from the humans—" The King nods as the knight’s serious yellow-greenish eyes dance across the several pages before his brows raise slightly upon finding something. He almost hesitates and shifts in his place, before looking at the King.
"We have found traces of the traitor, Dire Crowley, My King. The first and fifth armies last saw him moving to the South. While the sixth and third armies believe to have seen him head in the direction of the Ramshackle."
Dire Crowley. Ruler of the North and said to have fled amongst the first wave. Like a coward. The King hums in thought, thinking of multiple reasons as to why the traitorous crow would flee. It’s not death he fears. Yet who could know that old crow could possibly be thinking? He acts more on whims than he does on plans.
Letting a hot exhale from his nose, the King reveals nothing upon his face as he looks at the older knight with unreadable light-blue eyes that depending on the light could look light-purple. He doesn’t need papers, having oddly enough a good memory for things that are of high importance. "Within the Ramshackle. We have found the pact bearer. Scouts say to have stumbled upon a woman. I, myself, have checked. What they say is true. "
This catches the King’s attention.
He sits up slightly straighter. His eyes run over the silver-haired knight for any sign of lies. There is none. "Though Crowley has already had contact with her." Another voice. A man of short stature appears standing before the King with black hair and hot pink highlights. Large magenta eyes that were clearly fascinated and entertained. The King doesn’t need time to think over his options, opening his mouth for the first time this evening, his words firm.
"Force the pact bearer from her home. Send her in the direction of the first army. Tell them nothing of the pact bearer. If what you say is true, then she should easily form a pact—Is there any more to discuss?"
The King’s right hand clears his throat, moving closer to the King, a sudden seriousness upon his face. This has the king wordlessly send away his two knights. Before turning his full attention to the magenta-eyed demon.
"The armies are becoming restless. Some even think you’re unfit. The pact bearer could very well be your undoing."
"Or fix all that is broken." His words are curt, and the man bows before the king. Steeping away as the King rises, stepping from his throne and down the steps. It has been long since a pact bearer existed, the one to uphold the balance between the divine and the forsaken.
A balance that King Draconia wants to restore, this time with the scales in his favor.
══════ ♡ ══════
You awaken to a knock.
One hard and fast, that has you groggily rubbing your eyes and completely dazed as you stumble out of bed. Recklessly putting on your slippers and wrapping a thin blanket around you, using your hands to clutch it close as you lazily bumble through the dark. Your fingers glide against the patchy wallpaper wall, leading you down the creaky wooden steps and toward the front door.
This isn’t an unusual occurrence. Being awoken sometime during the night. Occasionally those from the village make their way to your cottage with urgent news. News that always involves demons. News that you hate receiving, yet you take each message with a mummer of thanks.
Other times, its villagers, those you knew and were close to, saying final goodbyes, with everything they have packed into a rickety wooden cart pulled by an old horse. Always speaking on how they’ll travel south. To lay within the safety of angels and the Divine.
Yet more times than not, they’ll return, with less than when they left. Or only their belongings returned, yet no bodies followed.
You shake off the thoughts, exhaling through your nose and undoing the metal locks, before opening the door. You blink in surprise. A man, tall and dressed in a black cloak with black feathers poking from the fabric. He had messy black hair, and a mask, golden, that reflected in the light of the moon. You step back.
It’s rare to get strangers.
"Hello~ See I was just passing by," he points to the path behind him, yet he has no bags, no horses, no carriage, and not a single lantern, none that you could see within the dark forest. The wind blows and you shiver.
"—and I am oh, so hungry. And oh, so thirsty." He seems unfazed by the cold. Your brows furrow and you have every right to turn away this strange man, yet you know better. Your mother always spoke about spirits that could grant wishes to those who showed them kindness. It’s a silly notion, yet as you step inside, forcing a small smile upon your lips, you can’t help but listen to your mother even while she’s away.
"Oh, thank you! You are so very kind!" As he enters your home, feathers drop every time he walks as he takes a seat at your old dining room chair as you move to the kitchen. "Such a… quaint home~" He seems to struggle to find a word, before landing on ‘quaint‘.
"Thank you?" Your home is old, with creaky oak floors and wooden beams that lined the roof, with chipping wallpaper, even if it’s been rebuilt by your father, and the layering wallpaper, yet you love it all the same.
You bring him a wooden cup of water, before moving a heavy bronze pot from the makeshift freezer, struggling for a moment to place it upon the kitchen fire, using flint and steel to start up the flames, using a metal hook to keep it suspended over the fire. Removing the heavy lid, you use a wooden label to stir the mixture of thicken milk, potatoes, chicken, and rice. Before re-covering it and wiping your hands upon a kitchen towel. You turn back to the dining table, finding the seat empty and the cup drained, and you step out of the kitchen.
You hadn’t heard him move. You step into the living room, finding the man tending to the dwindling embers within the fireplace. Before, in a hot flash, as fire shoots from his palm, the fire is alive. Magick.
"Is this your first time seeing magick in person?"
He puts on his glove and tilts his head to smile at you, and you nod. Magick isn’t common within the Ramshackles. Most you’ll see and interact with are the Adventurers who cross through, or bottle magick, which is usable for the average non-magick user. "Well, it is always a pleasure to entertain!" He gives an oddly graceful bow, and you can’t help but stare at this man in curiosity. He’s eccentric like your father—who’s quite odd in his own special way. "Now a question for a question. Tell me, do you live alone? For a house this big, I am sure you have siblings. Parents?"
You have a feeling that if this man wanted to kill you, he would’ve already.
"No siblings... But I do live with my parents. They’re away." Your eyes drift out the window, it’s dark beyond the glass, “they wanted to help in the North. So, I haven’t seen them in a few years.”
"That’s very brave of them—" He pauses as if in thought, before looking at you expectantly. "Your turn for a question!"
"… Where are you traveling from?"
He almost seems to preen himself as he glides down his feathers, which ultimately does nothing since they merely pop out once he pulls his hands away, yet he doesn’t seem to notice. Far too proud of himself. "The North. The Capital, to be exact. But I escaped. Quite a task, yet, alas, I did." Your brow furrows.
North. He managed to escape. You take a hesitant step toward the window, then it is completely possible to survive and escape. The sound of whistling snaps you out of your thoughts, catching your attention. The stew was ready.
"That smells absolutely splendid! I had quite the journey, [Name]." He settles himself into the dining room chair, oblivious to your staring. You hadn’t told him your name… Did you?
"… How do you know my name?"
You step around him, suddenly aware of how dark your home was. Even with the fire bright, it felt like it was creeping in, surrounding you, choking you— "It’s written on your door." The darkness seems to halt and you blink. Everything is as it was. You nod, making your way to the kitchen and preparing a bowl. Shaking your head, and murmuring under your breath for being so paranoid. The warmth of the soup spreads through your palms as you carry it towards the table, placing it in front of the crow-like man, and readjusting your blanket. "You said a question for a question… May I ask another?"
"Of course, ~" There’s a hint of mischief in his voice.
"What is it like… The north… Has it truly fallen..?"
The man eats slowly, pausing for a moment, before resuming with a slow drawn-out bite. "It has." Your heart sinks and you step from the table, moving over to the window. It’s an automatic response, one that you’ve trained yourself to do since the war started. Since your mother and father left.
"With each day, another portion of the North is swallowed by fire, followed by floods. Carried upon the winds are the howls of people, and you can smell nothing but blood and ash. The North has truly fallen…" He says the last line with slight hesitance, if more to confirm the fact to himself than to you. You search the dark woods, searching upon the horizon, beyond the mountain line that you knew existed beyond that shroud of darkness.
Your parents are out there.
You know that they could possibly be—you shake the idea from your head. They would come back, as they always did. As they promised. You listen to the fire crackle, and you let out a sigh. "Worried that they’ll come here?"
"What?" You turn to the man, whose bowl is completely empty. He tilts his head from you and then out the window. "Worried? You are awfully quiet." You exhale.
"…It’s been a long night…" You force a smile, and he waves with a laugh, moving to plop down on the dilapidated couch. Patting the old velvet cushion beside him. "Sit. Sit." More of a command than a suggestion. And one you listen to. You sit beside him, wrapping the blankets further over your arms. "You never answered my question." He almost sings the words, tilting his head towards the flames, yet his eyes are still on you. Observing you. Taking note of who you seat, of how you fidget and clutch the fabric of your covers. Yet he says nothing.
"…I am… The only thing that separates us is a mountain range…" And your parents. Yet you can’t say that.
"Then leave." Your brows furrow, deeply offended with the mere thought, lips drew together and you almost sneer at the strange man. It’s also nearly impossible to leave due to the mountains. And you have a home, one your father and mother built and restored, you can’t leave it all behind. You can’t. The man seems to notice your conflicted feelings and the slight bitterness that bubbles within your gut and he clears his throat.
"If I may provide comfort… You won’t die." He states with such certainty that you can’t help but grimace. How would he know…? How could he promise that…? Yet a portion of you believes him. That this odd man has some truth to his words. Since all the most trusting of truths come in all odd ways. "How do you know?"
He seems to light up. Patting himself down, revealing the clothing he wore beneath his cloak. Elegant and sophisticated. Made of silk and lace. Ones that would cost a fortune to own. He has money. Lots of it. Shuffling in his seat, he searches various pockets and mutters under his breath, before producing a thick envelope with an almost gleeful shout, which sounded similar to a bird squawking. He passes you the letter with a proud grin, which is more for himself for carrying the letter than giving it to you.
Your name is on the letter, messily written, yet familiar, with a hurried forest green wax. Unbroken. Dread fills your stomach as your fingers graze against the parchment. "Welp! I’ll be going. Until me meet again~"
"Wai—" You look up from the envelope, only to find the man gone. He was gone. Yet black feathers remained in his spot. You let out an exasperated gasp, brows furrowing as you stand from your seat. You step over the feathers and moved towards the window. Nothing was out there. You tap the letter against the glass before stepping away.
Sleep.
You needed to sleep. You stiffen a yawn, making sure the doors were locked, before tossing the letter onto the dining table. Sparing a glance, before heading back upstairs. You’d read it in the morning.
══════ ♡ ══════
Morning comes faster than you’d like, the events of last night merely a fog in your memories.
Barely dressed for the day, wearing a simple dark cyan dress, standard uniform for your job. Blinking the sleep from your eyes as you attach your white apron around your hips, you lazily make your down the creaky steps. Moving to the kitchen, your body on clear autopilot, as you grab a clay cup and filling it with water, before drinking it carelessly.
You have a throbbing headache. You’re sure that you’ll be late for work, but at the moment you don’t care. Almost slamming the cup down, you let out a loud, tired groan. Your boss, he’ll forgive you. He always does. You let out a tired cough, leaning against your counters, running a hand over your forehead. You’re sure you don’t have any more painkillers, having used the last two pills a week ago since your last headache.
"Mr. Gerken should have some… Or I'll walk it off." You speak aloud, pushing from the counter, moving over to your coat rack, and wrapping the cloak over your shoulders, using the leather strings to secure it. Sliding a thin scarf around your neck. You grab a familiar brass key, tucking it into your apron pocket and your small coin purse, before glancing over the room, seeing if you had forgotten anything.
Suddenly remembering the letter from last night. Your multi-task, putting on your leather shoes as you hop over to the table while using the sunlight to look over the envelope. You contemplate for a moment, before sighing. If it’s important, then you don’t want to risk it around desperate people trying to find a way to survive. You place it back on the table, opting to grab your wooden basic before leaving your home.
Fresh mountain hair fills your senses, cold air rushing into your lungs making you shiver. It was sometime early morning. You block the sun from your eyes as you look up at the clear sky. There were hardly any clouds.
Your gaze moves the mountain line far in front of your home, thick black clouds, silent and threatening. It grows bigger every day…
Letting out a puff of air, you’re turning to face your door, yanking the door shut, which rattled the windows. This door always fought against being closed. Making sure the door was secured, you pull out your key and lock both locks on the door. Pulling the cloak hood over your head and the scarf over your nose, you step away from the door. Your mother and father’s name faded yet still there, while your name stood boldly. As if it was just painted with your mother’s curly handwriting. You were sure the paint had faded off years ago. Your fingers touch the old wood, glazing over the letters of your name.
You hope your parents are alright. You tuck the metal key into the pockets of the apron.
You spin around, eyes trailing along the familiar walking along the old stone steps. One a bright grey now dull and worn, your father placed the old steps years ago, before you were born possibly. Yet anytime you stepped out of the house, he let out a dramatic sigh and spoke of an artist who was so great. So grand. To create such marvelous and everlasting stones. Your mother would sometimes indulge him, swooning over the craftsman, speaking about how’d she marry the artist? Other times, she would ignore my father and purposely ignore the steps with an impish grin.
You smile at the memory. While your father could carve the most beautiful things into the weirdest of objects, your mother could weave stories from air. Each step is engraved with a different animal, each with its own story.
A rabbit, who was always late yet a messenger. Who never led those astray, but had quite the temper.
A lion, with a cunning personality and a heart of gold, yet trapped beneath stone.
A octopus, benevolent yet tricked those to fall into its trap, yet was shy.
A snake, a trickster that offered wishes only to screw your words, yet if given the chance, the snake was a loyal companion.
A raven, beautiful and majestic. With onyx wings and poisonous words that could enchant anyone, yet was so lonely.
A hound, with three heads that tore and ripped through flesh and feasted upon poor souls, yet lost a dear family member, so the hound lost its way.
Then, a dragon, you step on the last stone. Your mother’s favorite stone. About a lonely, lonely dragon who could never love nor be loved. There was no redeeming qualities for the dragon. Your mother believed that those who would do good would do good, but this dragon, this dragon, would never do good. Therefore, there was no redemption.
There are some things, my little dove, that we cannot change— "Such is the way with people." You finish your mother’s quote, your voice merely flying away with the wind. She, within every story she told, would weave lessons and morals. Yet you never knew why, why your mother loved these seven distinct animals. Using your shoes to kick off the dirt. Staring at the large coiled dragon, one that took your father days to finish, and several broken stone slabs.
It was dirty. You make a mental note to clean it once you return. Shifting the empty basket in your hold, you continue on. Stepping off the final stone and walking through the forests. Glancing through the trees, you could see the distant town. You remember the walks, the fun, the joy.
══════ ♡ ══════
"Gotcha!" He let out a satisfied shout, causing you to shriek in laughter, kicking your legs as your father held you in the air. Pretending to bite your stomach, tickling you in the promises. Your cheeks hurt from laughing and smiling, unable to fight against your father.
"Gotcha!" Your father yelps, clutching you to his chest as your mother attacks from behind, nails digging into his sides and ticking, a ferocious grin upon her face. Her basket of goods is placed along the stone steps, as she joins in on the fun. "Escape!" She laughs as you break from your father’s grasp, causing him to shout, unable to get you as you run across the pseudo-front lawn. You catch your breath, watching your father turn the tides on your father before she could run to you. He grabs her yet ends up tripping on their own feet. They land with a thud, the air knocked from their lungs. Yet your father protects your mother’s head as he lies on her. You let out a giggle, running across the lawn, and joining the pile, which makes your father wheeze and your mother laugh.
"Hello my little dove~" She rises a hand to caress your face, gently pinching your cheek, eyes filled with so much happiness and love. As leaves and twigs got into her. Yet your moment is ruined when your father stretches his arm back to secure you as he got up with a chuckle. Your arms wrap around his neck, as he helps your mother with a laugh, kissing her cheek.
══════ ♡ ══════
You blink from the memory, since as long as you can remember, your mother and father truly loved each other. How they met is a mystery to you, cause every time you ask, they’d tell you it was fate. Fate that tied them together. Your father said it was the Divine that the moment he laid eyes upon your mother, he was smitten. While your mother was apprehensive, yet overtime gave in.
When thinking back, you remember the pain when your mother spoke of it. Though she has no regret in loving your father, but you assume it was forbidden. They arrived in the Ramschackles 21 years ago, eight months before your birth. Getting everything together for their bundle of joy. You have no doubt in your mind that they loved you more than anything. The ground crunches beneath your feet as the wind fans your face. You look out as the town grows closers. Your father was a blacksmith. He once spoke of fancy golden balls and festivals fit for the Gods. He worked with every metal known to man, yet threw it all away for your mother. Who, very proudly, exclaimed how would do it all again and again. While your mother, you don’t know much. She was a farm girl, yet had to leave behind her home. You don’t know why.
Letting out a sigh, the sounds of chatter and music growing louder and louder, the smells of food and sweets wafting into your nose. Your stomach grumbles. You pick up your pace, jogging the rest of the way down the mountain. Smiling at the familiar sights before you, carriages pulling along the roads, carts, and livestock. It was busy as conversations mixed. You shimmy through the crowd before spotting a familiar brownstone building. ‘Mr. Gerken’s Finest’ is a large popular tavern. You slip through the open doors, and two common patrons waving or nodding in hello as you slip over your scarf and cloak.
"Good Mornin’ Robin. Hilton." Slipping into the back as you hung up your outerwear before glancing around. Mr. Gerken wasn’t here at the moment and it seemed to be just you. You move back to the front, standing behind the bar and checking through needed supplies. The night shift had cleaned properly.
"Any plans for the weekend?" Hilton, an old man, with blonde hair with streaks of grey, he’s been going to this tavern since you could remember. He always orders a simple whiskey that he hardly touches. "Uh, not really…. Tending to the garden, I guess. Or working" You grab a rag, choosing to wipe down the counter in boredom. The two men laugh. "You plan to get a boyfriend?" Hilton asks with a smirk, "or girlfriend! We don’ judge." Robin, slightly younger, with messy black hair and stubble, he looks half asleep, yet snickers with Hilton as if they’re school boys. You can only roll your eyes.
"[Name]! There’s my favorite Gal! Been lookin’ all over! And here you are, workin’." Mr. Genkin is a short, plump man, who’s significantly balding, yet has a large beard and mustache.
"Sure am!" You don’t plan to correct him, letting him laugh happily. As he moves to the back, you can still hear his laugh. The morning passes slowly, with only Robin and Hilton occasionally heckling you, or playing cards, which Hilton is horribly bad at and lost nearly 50 gold. Soon the afternoon rolls around, and the empty tavern slowly becomes busier as two more workers arrive. Sam, a happy middle-aged woman with brown hair and two ten-year-old twins, and Tom, an older teen who always rants about how much he hates working here, yet is one of the best workers.
"Girlie~ Ya hear? Some say the town up in the west got attacked." Sam’s voice is a whisper. The Ramshackles isn’t one big town. There are multiple, spread out all across the dense Ramshackle forests, yet surrounded on all sides by thick mountain ranges. The western village was one who resided near the western mountains. You’re not supposed to speak of the war in the Tavern, one that Mr. Genkin had been insanely serious about. But Sam is a chatty woman who can’t help herself.
"When?" Your voice sounds slightly panicked, and Sam notices. She waves her hands and shakes her head eagerly. As if just remembering she’s not supposed to talk about demons and war while working. "Nope. Nope. Ma lips are sealed!" You let out an exasperated sigh as he darts off, grabbing trays to hand out orders.
You continue to busy yourself. Making drinks, and chatting with familiar faces, until you feel like someone is watching you. Your eyes try and subtly dart across the room, as you listen to the customer rant about his recent divorce with his wife. You let out hums, hardly listening, till your eyes land on yellowish-green eyes.
You both stare, neither one of you making a move. The air seems to chill, and you feel air leave your lungs, yet they don’t return. You can hear muffled calls of your name, yet your lips can’t move.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
.
The thing blinks and you gasp for air, nearly stumbling over. The bar helps stabilize you. You’re sure that without it, you would’ve fallen over. Men and women had ran up to the man, yelling at him for being weird and creepy, to stop staring at you, defending you—You need them to stop—Demanding he leaves or else. The air feels tense as if electricity shot through you. He’s mad.
The man rises from his seat, shrouded in all black, yet his sneer is prominent. He grabs the first man by his shoulders, glancing at you as if to make sure you were looking. You can see the corner of his lips quirked upward. He’s grinning.
‘Look.’
The tavern falls silent, followed by a thud. You can feel it on your skin and your stomach lurches. Pale hands. Clothing. Face. His face. Get it off. Get it off. There’s red. Red. The man before him split in two. Ripped apart. Blood. You can feel it on you. Get it off. A scream, shrill and loud, snaps everyone out of the scene that unfolded before them.
"IT’S A DEMON!"
ⓒ 2023 love-thanatopsis — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited.
326 notes
·
View notes
TWISTED WONDERLAND: ZOMBIE AU
Overview:
Origins: The Isle of Woe, Research Facility S.T.Y.X. - Project: Ignihyde
Disease X-2579, or Gene X. Feasts on those with weak magic and immune systems, sucking them dry and using their corpse as a vessel. Not natural born disease, man-made. By Dr. Shroud and his team of researchers so obsessed with the dead.
After the outbreak, Dr. Shroud went completely missing, and no one can find where he is, much less end the rising of those with Gene X Parasite, also known as Zombies or Shades, which S.T.Y.X referred to them as.
══════ ♡ ══════
You consider yourself put together, even after the world went to hell. You lived alone, secluded, far, far away from anyone and everyone. With no one but you and your beloved cat friend that you saved a year ago. You live in a small house, with a garden and a well-made fence, and an old pickup truck that amazingly still worked.
You haven’t had interaction with another human in months, and you would like to keep it that way. Yet fate has other plans.
The SavannaClaw Raiders, a group of mercenaries that are constantly on the move and hunt for anything and everything, to raid and pillage. A pack of wild animals that you had the very unfortunate fate of running into. Jack Howl, a lone wolf that stumbled across your home, and in exchange for food and water, the mercenaries would never know about you. So you agreed, yet it wasn’t mercenaries you had to worry about. Jack had unknowingly led a group of shades to your home. Forcing you on the run, with very little to survive.
══════ ♡ ══════
Information:
Gene X ~ A parasite that finds its victims with low levels of magic and feasts on their magic power, before eating at their flesh from the inside out, before using them as a puppet to find more victims. They’re asexual reproductive parasites and can grow in the 10000s in one singular body. The higher one’s magic power and skill, the harder it is for the parasite to take over.
Zombies or Shades ~ The undead, it feasts on human flesh as a way of transferring the parasite. They have a hive-like mind, and unlike that singular, once-in-a-group, Gene X parasites grow in intelligence.
NRC ~ Night Raven City, a slum city on a remote island, once a school, but now a place of dangerous activities. Sickness and Gene X outbreaks are common, with a strong anti-shade force, known as the Octavinelle.
RSA ~ Royal Sword Association, a group of high-standing officials, in charge of finding a cure and attempting to restore what once was. They have had little to no success.
NBC ~ Noble Bell City, a highly gated city, that’s extremely protected and one of the safest places within the world, yet few can get in, and most die on the journey there.
══════ ♡ ══════
Heartslabyul:
~ Territory: Queendom of Roses
Heavily militaristic location. One built on heavy order and control. As well as being extremely isolated, they rarely leave their large island, and have a total of one ever major outbreak, but as has been completely dealt with and have not had one since.
SavannaClaw:
~ Territory: Sunset Savanna
Mercenaries. Due to the large size of the Sunset Savanna, it was by far too late to create proper order and the outbreak went quickly, taking several lives and creating large pockets.
Octavinelle:
~ Territory: NRC
Anti-Shade force located within NRC. They’re a shady business and often create chaos, to simply control the chaos. It’s unsafe within their care. Some say they do experiments on the innocent to find a cure.
Scarabia:
~ Territory: Scalding Sands
Hot deserts. Which is heavily overrun, due to its remote location, many people fled and run there for safety. It’s unsafe, yet an extremely kind place.
Pomefiore:
~ Territory: Shaftlands
A large town, surrounded by gigantic stone walls, it is almost beautiful in a scary way. There is no room for error and those who mess up will be immediately killed. Rumors say that the leader of Pomefiore has a Gene X parasite. Nothing is confirmed.
Ignhyde:
~ Territory: Isle of Woe
Some say that you’ll see glimpses of them and that they aren’t truly dead. Many believed that Dr. Shroud is simply running a horrible experiment and truly has a cure. Does he?
Diasomnia:
~ Territory: Briar Valley
Secluded and Dark. Nothing is known about Briar Valley or Diasomnia.
══════ ♡ ══════
The engine roars loudly, and you hate it. Despise the loudness that drew your attention within the dead of night. The road collapsed and crumbled, causing your old pickup truck to bounce and jolt, shaking you around carelessly as you drove through the dark. Your window rolled down just slightly to hear anything. The shades weren’t good in the dark, but sound, they excelled at it well. They couldn’t smell human flesh, but they could easily camouflage with your very surroundings until you were completely trapped.
You hear a familiar set of groans, and you slam the brakes, lurching forward, your chest slamming into the wheel. You move quickly, turning off the engine and falling completely silent, counting your very breaths. It is silent. You can hear the rush of wind, and the sounds of crickets chirping. It’s loud.
As long as you remained calm, you’ll be alright. You shift in your seat, hand grabbing a longer blade, climbing till your back was to the wheel and your feet on the old seat cushions. They come from the back, never the front. You hear the groans grow closer, there’s only one, and you shudder at the soft wind. You can hardly see. Your tongue licks your dry lips, fluttering your eyes closed, trying to stop the pounding of your heart.
You hear the sound of something hitting the back of your truck, and your eyes fly open. Were your doors locked? If there’s more than one, they can open your doors, they could get inside. You’ll die.
Your car door side was, you know it was, yet the door on the passenger side wasn’t. You squint and you can see the gray notch upward, showing that it was indeed unlocked. Who unlocked your door? You hear a breathy inhale, like someone with their mouth permanently open and like they had several holes punched in their lungs.
The sound came from that side.
Lowering yourself, your crawl slowly along the old seats, feeling sweat gather on your brow. Another groan, louder, attentive. Like it knew you were there.
Another bang, harder than before that shook the truck. You want to cry. To beg it to leave, but if it hears you…. You’ll die. But as long as you remain quiet, you’ll be fine. Your fingers slide against the leathery plastic side of the door, feeling blindly for the lock. With another bang, nearly pushing the truck up on its side, you slid back, in your panic your feet hit the driver's side door to keep yourself from falling back. Your feet hit the inside of the with a loud thud, and your heart drops.
A shrill scream echoes, one that hurts your ears and you grunt, flying to lock the passenger side door. Caring not to remain quiet. A loud thunk follows as the stick slips into the door, locking it.
This shriek sets off a chain reaction. You had been surrounded. You hear bodies slam and push at your truck, ripping at the metal, trying to yank the heavy truck over. Your body tumbles, as your grip the seats to keep balance, looking out the seat windows and seeing deformed, grotesque faces, some missing teeth and eyes, dried blood and mucus covering their grey faces, as they shriek, dirty hands pounding and clawing at your window.
They know you're inside.
You can hear them climb onto your truck, hitting the back windows, screaming and screaming. You desperately look for an exit, desperately looking for a way out. They come from the back, never the front. You lunge forward, ramming your body into the windshield, which shatters in a matter of seconds, and you tumble over the hood in a matter of seconds. Ignoring the glass that cut your skin and ripped your clothing, you land on your stomach, knocking the wind from your lungs, but they don’t seem and notice you. Still determined to break into your truck. You can’t outrun a Shade, so your slip underneath the truck, ignoring the rocking swaying motions that seemed to shake the very ground. You cover your mouth, stifling your panting and tears that threatened to fall and lying still on your stomach.
They would get bored eventually….
Right?
ⓒ 2023 love-thanatopsis — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited.
166 notes
·
View notes
"Fall of the Blade"
| Repost: 02.01.23 | 1.5 K | Rated PG |
Samurai!Akaashi K. X Emperor!GN!Reader X Samurai! Bokuto K.
| Angst | Unrequited Love | Use of ‘My Lord’ n’ ‘Emperor’ | Forbidden Love | Arranged Marriage | War | Mentions Blood | Etc. | Proceed with Caution, Beloved. |
T.Manor.Notes: I wrote this years ago, so this is a rewrite of one of my old posts.
I guess it’s painful.
Watching the blood soak the once-white bandages. While the war still raged on beyond the small medic tent. The man’s face scrunched, covered in sweat, trying to ignore the pain in his shoulder and arm. The shouts and yells of servants, deafening and panicked, while the royal doctors try to save the life of your most loyal Samurai. Yet the truth is obvious as when the sun rises from its slumber. He can no longer fight. He can no longer protect you.
Watching destiny take the things you love.
“I am resigning you from the army. I don’t want to argue anymore about it. You can’t wield a bow, nor a sword. You’ll only get in the way.” Your voice is harsh, but you need to be harsh, to get the fact to remain in his head. He can’t fight for you.
Maybe if I was less selfish with those I loved.
Watching the world crash within your tired gunmetal blue eyes. Watching as the 12th arrow missed the intended target. Again. And again. And again. While you watch, unable to conceal the clear pity within your eyes as he fails to prove that he can protect you once again. Watching the bow string snap and the longbow clatter to his side, sweat dripping off his pale skin. He pants for air, exhausted. Trying to find the words to prove you wrong, trying to justify his actions. ‘Time.. I just need time…’ You can only shake your head, a frown across your lips. With his useless arm and shoulder, time would do nothing but age him. Yet you still drop to your knees, bowing lower than you should, until your forehead is pressed against the dirt.
Like a dog.
“I just want to be of service to you, My Lord. Please… I’m… I’m begging.”
Maybe if I cared for your self-worth more, then my wanting for you to be alive.
Keeping your stern expression, an exhausted sigh leaving your lips, you turned away. “We’re done here.” A warrior who cannot fight isn’t a warrior at all. Is what you should’ve said. Is what you wanted to say, to crush his dreams. For him to simply become the type of man to give up. Yet he doesn’t. He won’t. Not once does his kind eyes reflect any malice towards you. As if able to see the internal struggle, to see that you truly do care for him. Thus, his loyalty is unwavering.
Until a year later.
“My Lord. May I present Bokuto Koutarou? The son of a well known Samurai located west and one with exceptional talents. He will be your new bodyguard.”
Staring down at the younger man with black and white hair and piercing golden eyes. From where you sit, you could tell that he was kind and wouldn’t hurt a fly. Yet while training, he surprises you, his strength unparalleled to others. Simply amazing. Slicing through the air with ease, performing a sword style you had never seen in battle.
Yet your loyal samurai didn’t like him. Any interaction was fake. Any smile, greeting, conversation. Completely forced. Mocking each other. To others, they say a mentor and student relationship, a blossoming friendship that would rival no other. Yet you knew better. Keiji could never be the man he used to be, not within this lifetime.
And Koutarou would never live up to Keiji. Not yet, but he would serve well to protect you. It was infuriating to be stuck upon a scale and to know that you can’t step off unless deemed unfit due to your inability to control your personal emotions. You are merely Lord, an Emperor upon an ever-growing empire, and such simple matters of silent rivalry aren’t something you’re allowed to partake in.
══════ ♡ ══════
Slowly gliding the brush against the paper, writing a letter to the General about further plans involving the war that was happening north. The war in which wounded Akaashi. The room of your study is silent as you keep to your thoughts.
“It must be tiresome. To spend the day writing letters.”
Bokuto broke the silence. You nearly jump out of your skin, forgetting his presence since he’s usually talking your ear off. Yet today, he’s been quiet. You move the brush from the paper, glancing at the samurai. He sits lazily, leaning against the wall. His gaze focused on you as one hand rested inside his black yukata, partly revealing his bare chest, his right hand resting on his katana hilt. You think over the phrase before turning back to the paper.
“Sometimes,” I glance at him with a small smile, “but you must get tired of fighting or having to constantly protect someone.”
“Not when it’s you. I get to protect my Lord.” There’s a hint of seriousness that forces a silence over us. The tension slowly thickens with something he desires from me. Something I cannot give. You don’t move when you hear him move to your side, sitting down next to you, and you turn your head, eyes widening. He’s close. His breath fans across your lips. Slowly closing the distance.
A soft sound of someone clearing their throat bursts the bubble surrounding you. You snap your gaze to the door. Akaashi stands with his brows furrowed, staring at you before glancing towards Bokuto before bowing.
“Pardon my intrusion, My Lord—”
“No. No, it’s fine.” You clear my throat, slightly embarrassed, and offer a small smile, while Bokuto snorts. Akaashi sends a quick glare before looking back at you. “My Lord, the children have been practicing their bow skills, and they wish to show you.” Your eyes widen and you nod eagerly, placing the brush to the side. Rising from your seat and quickly following beside Akaashi. Bokuto follows, much to Akaashi displeasure. The walk to the train hall is long, but you make do with a lot of small talk. It isn’t often you get a moment alone.
“I’m glad you didn’t throw away archery permanently, Akaashi.”
The archery of the palace children have gotten better since the last time. Each excelling in their own speeds, it’s impressive as each bow to you after their demonstration, before gravitating to Bokuto who cheers them on happily. He’s well beloved, and you watch with a tiny smile, while Akaashi stands by your side.
“It’s my passion, of course, but there is something I wish to show you. I’ve been creating a one-handed sword method.”
Jealousy.
Replacements.
War.
Love.
Lust.
The sound of your guard’s katana clattering against the dirt floor skidded towards your feet. You shouldn’t be surprised, yet you are. Your gaze flickers to the scene before you. “I win...” Muttering softly, Akaashi pointing the blade closer to his neck, Bokuto cradling his cut hand, having lost.
“It seems the one sword style even out powers the most skilled.” You mutter under your breath before picking up the discarded sword. Much to your servants’ dismay, you silently wave off. You clap and congratulate the two.
“Both of you are amazing—Bokuto, let’s go take care of your hand.”
“Akaashi, is your shoulder alright.” A few servants scurried forward, taking care of Bokuto’s hand, while I moved closer. Yet he rejects your advances. “I’m fine.”
They both walked off in different directions. Bokuto’s pride hurt while Akaashi seemed to swell in it. Placing the katana in its sheath, turning on my heel and heading back to my chamber. A soft sigh leaving my throat.
They were each other’s weakness yet strength.
“My Lord, you will have to soon marry—There is a beautiful girl from the North. This will unite the North and the South! This war can’t continue to go on.” Crossing your arms, staring at your personal advisor. Who has been begging you to marry for as long as I can remember.
“I’ll meet her,”
“My Lord, please thin—You will!?” Ignoring his baffled look, a smile crossing your lips and softly nodding. Even if you weren’t in love with her, you had to think about the future of your empire. Even at the cost of your happiness and theirs.
Showing you the ink painting. She really was beautiful. Blackish blue hair and blue grayish eyes and porcelain skin and rosy pink cheeks. She had a neutral expression but kind eyes. Kiyoko Shimizu, a wealthy daughter of the Karasuno Empire. “My Lord. Are you sure? You don’t have to do this...”
Akaashi bowed in front of you, his voice quivering. Bokuto off to my side, his brows furrowed together. “It’s already final.” Tensions between the north and south seemed to grow, and with you not being pure blood and simply adopted into the royal family, it worsens. This is the only way. Even if it hurts them.
“My Lord...”
Bowing lower than you should.
“Get up, Akaashi. My decision is final.”
Like a dog.
I didn’t intend for my life to go this way…
Watching Kiyoko walk closer to you with a small smile, she seemed happy. Taking her hand within your own, placing a soft kiss on her cheek.
I don’t think you planned your life to become this way either.
Bokuto.
Akaashi.
Don’t look at me with such sad eyes. With such yearning as I married her. As I would grow old with her.
“I’m sorry.”
ⓒ 2023 love-thanatopsis — all rights reserved. Any sort of plagiarizing, copying, modifying, translating, editing of my works are strictly prohibited.
71 notes
·
View notes