Tw Fire - Tumblr Posts
i got bored of the whump thing im writing itll be back i just dont want to refine here's some fluff i made when i first wanted to write medieval ish fantasy there's a bit of whump later in the wip
When I heard Goose’s soft snoring, I looked over at her direction and kissed her on the forehead. Starborn had been discharged from her duty as my guide and slept with Pandolin in the large wyvern bed.
Goose had her arms folded in front of her, judging by the position of her shoulders, and I unbraided her dark hair and brushed through it with my fingers.
I could feel it was curly, and she mumbled, “Pandolin, what’re you doin’?”
I didn’t respond.
“Hrm,” Goose mumbled. “‘M tired, stop,”
I stopped brushing through her hair and turned over, then felt her breath on the back of my neck.
I turned over again, then touched her cheek.
She flinched back, and I said, “Hi, Goose,”
Goose yelped and fell off the bed with a heavy thud.
I reached out my hand and pulled her up, then hugged her.
I could feel her rapid heartbeat, and she whispered, “Why were you doing that?”
“Sorry for scaring you, and I don’t know,”
She pressed closer to me and said, “Please don’t do it,” before rolling back onto her side.
I looked up and waited, not able to sleep. Goose grabbed my hand, and my heart began racing.
Goose pulled me closer and said, “Empeza, you didn’t happen to kill a seer named Nadia Guseva, right?”
“No. Why? Did you know her?”
I remembered hearing of that poor girl. I have no idea of her fate, but she was used by Nasilje for political and religious gain. Most thought Guseva to be insane, however, and almost everyone disregarded her as just a lunatic who thought she saw the future.
“She was my sister, and-,”
I gave her a tight hug and said, “I’m sorry. No one knows what happened to her,”
“Oh,” she whispered.
She sniffled softly and whimpered, “I- if she’s alive, she’s the only family I have left. Other than Pandolin, but you know- he’s more than family, he’s a part of me,”
“I’ll ask Nasilje, alright?”
“Alright.”
I stood, and she grabbed my arm.
“No, not now, Nasilje, I assume she doesn’t like being interrupted,”
I sat down and she said, “Stay safe,”
“Of course, paxariño,” I said, knowing she wouldn’t understand my affectionate nicknames once more.
I lay down and she lay on my armored chest, and I said, “Goose, wait a moment,”
She sat up and I took off my armor and stripped off my tunic to my underclothes.
I sat back down and let her lay back on my chest and rubbed her forehead, and she slowly drifted to sleep. I let her stay on my chest, I didn’t want to wake her up.
I heard Starborn hyperventilating, and Starborn flew over to me and sniffled, Empeza, I had a nightmare.
I touched her spiky scales on her snout and replied mentally, Don’t worry. What happened?
I’m scared. I saw a monster.
She curled into my arms and I hugged her close. She was about the size of the medium sized brown dog I had until it died when I was three.
You’re my best friend and sister, you should’ve come to me.
She started crying in a way I wasn’t used to. Typically, she never even laughed. It sounded like patchy growling and her scales shifted up and down underneath my palms.
Empeza, I love you. Starborn whispered.
“I love you too,” I replied. Starborn flapped back over to Pandolin, then went back to sleep.
I closed my eyes and let dreams take me.
—
It was a normal execution, it should’ve gone without a problem, but the prisoner spat out his gag and pleaded for his life, just as I killed him. Just as I killed my brother.
I sink to my knees, it was a bad omen, the executioner screaming from insanity just after ending a life, but I couldn’t stop.
I stare up the sky and whisper, “Forgive me, Santi, please,”
I cradle his body close and wail, wishing I could bring him back. Wishing I could join him. I take my sword, and Nasilje grabs it out of my hands as I slit my wrists.
She calls for a medic, and someone comes by and bandages my wrists, stopping the blood.
I-
—
The horn blew, and I rolled out of bed.
Goose took my hand and pulled me up, and I thanked her. Starborn woke up and fluttered over to my shoulder.
No more nightmares? I asked.
None.
She stretched and yawned, and Goose took my hand. Starborn described Pandolin flapping over to Goose as clumsy, exhausted, and dragonfly-like.
Pandolin lay on Goose’s shoulder, and Goose whispered, “You don't have to work ‘til breakfast, alright?”
Pandolin didn’t respond audibly.
Goose took an unlit torch from the wall and pressed her palm against it. I heard flints, and I could tell that there was light nearby.
“Let’s go,” she said. She sounded a bit like what I’d nicknamed her, a goose.
“You alright?” I asked.
“Yeah,” she replied. “Just, a really weird dream. Something about controlling dragonfire, somehow,”
“Well, dreams are meant to be strange, the gods don’t want us knowing what they mean without careful thought,”
“True,”
I put on my tunic and pants, but not my armor. I didn’t feel like it, and my shift wouldn’t be for another six hours.
She and I walked to the kitchens, where Ivan stopped us.
“Market day. Go do whatever you want, here’s breakfast,”
He handed us two slices of toast each and some bacon.
I ate quickly, and Goose asked, “What’s market day?”
Ivan paid her, and I explained it to her quickly.
“I typically go riding in the mornings on these days, since I’m off. Want to come with?”
“Um- alright,”
I took her hand when she finished eating and took her to the stable.
—
Igor handed me Xenebra’s brush and said, “She won’t let me anywhere near her,”
“Odd,” I replied. “I’ll do it,”
I walked over to my child’s stall and she knickered irritably.
I got in the stall and cleaned the stall very quickly, then put feed in her empty trough and started brushing her thick coat.
I spoke to her through it all, and she listened.
Eventually, I guided her out of the stall, and she reared when she saw Igor.
I tried to soothe her, but she broke out of my grip and ran out of the stables. I chased after her, and saw she’d stopped right outside the stables. I mounted, and Goose stopped next to us. She rode a chestnut bay, the one no one had ever wanted, according to Igor. It was about three quarters of Xenebra’s size, according to Starborn, and Pandolin sat on its head.
Pandolin was small, for a wyvern, Goose had said he was twenty, like her, and normally, they ended up the size of a shepherd’s dog at around that age, no longer able to fit on a shoulder at all. Starborn was five years younger than I was, as I’d gone blind at a later age, but even then, she was much bigger than Pandolin.
“What did you name her?” I asked.
“Myata,” Goose replied.
Myata followed close behind Xenebra as we went down the road. For such a small thing, she was fast.
—
We traveled down to the beach and Xenebra galloped across the sand, outpacing Myata.
Xenebra suddenly stopped, and I heard a thud.
I dismounted and before I could open my mouth to apologize, Starborn described a tall man with thick red hair and blue eyes, who snapped at me, “Who decided to let a blind person ride a horse?”
“Hey, izvini, I didn’t mean to hit you, and Xenebra was going too fast to slow down. Did anything break?”
The other person stormed off, and I got back on Xenebra, waiting for Goose to arrive. Goose got there a few minutes later, Myata walking slowly.
“Sorry, Myata refused to canter. Who was that?”
“Some guy. He wasn’t looking where he was going, and he came too quick for Starborn to tell me,”
Xenebra and I continued in a trot so Goose could keep pace, and eventually, we dismounted and walked over to the water. Pandolin jumped off Goose’s shoulder and into the mudsand, rolling around and Starborn doing the same a few minutes later.
Xenebra lay down for a rest, and I sat on her back. Myata did the same a few moments later, judging by the heavy thump in Goose’s general direction, and I looked over the horizon, listening to the waves.
Starborn jumped onto my shoulder, scales waterlogged.
Why? I groaned.
Water is very nice.
Not for me.
She nuzzled my cheek and I rubbed her forehead.
She cooed happily and raised her snout to touch my palm, then licked it.
I heard someone running near us, then stopped.
That guy you hit has a knife. He’s getting closer.
Burn.
A burst of heat, and I heard someone scream.
Xenebra whinied, and I quickly shifted my position so she wouldn't throw me off.
Goose followed suit and we rode off, quick as we could.
The man didn’t bother chasing after us.
I felt sunlight on my face and realized the sun was rising. I stopped Xenebra and looked in the direction of the brightness.
Starborn described it to me, and I imagined it as it was. All the clouds everywhere, orange, pink, and purple fire.
I closed my eyes and inhaled, feeling the sea breeze on my face.
“Beautiful,” Goose breathed.
I took her hand, and she whispered, “I’m sorry you can’t see it,”
I didn’t reply, I had no need to see. It actually made me better, it stopped me from following in my brother’s footsteps.
I looked in her direction and said, “I’m here with you,”
I kissed her hand, and she sputtered, “Empeza- we can’t,”
“Yes we can,”
“Its illegal,”
“I lived with raiders, you think I care about the stupid bitching laws dictating love?”
“Privacy?”
“Ah. Right. Back to the keep?”
“No. I wanna have fun first,”
She rode up the beach, toward the pier, and we rode back up the dunes and through the dune grass, then dismounted.
I took out the frog to clean Xenebra’s hooves of sand, and found wet grass and leaves and dirt, like her hooves hadn’t had the field residue removed.
Why? I wondered. I walked over to Myata and cleaned her hooves of wet sand, and instructed Goose to guide her through the rest of the town.
We approached a shop that Xenebra seemed interested in, and I smelled sugar.
Where’s the line? I asked Starborn. The stall sold sugar cubes for horses.
No line.
I walked over, and heard Goose and Myata close behind.
“‘Ello ma’ams, how’d you like somethin’ for yerselves?”
“Just our horses,”
“Wouldn’t yeh like a snack, lovebirds?”
I stiffened and said, “Just two sugar cubes,”
“We’ve a special deal for four for the price o’ three,”
“Just two sugar cubes, sirrah,”
“Fine,” he sighed, Starborn described him going under the desk, and I suddenly got a bad feeling.
I put my hand on my sword’s hilt, and he rose with a firearm. Rare here, but I’d seen them, my parents were raiders, after all.
I pulled out my sword and he hissed, “Put all your valuables and that pretty sword in the sack, and a’ll spare you,”
I called for a fellow guard and before the man reacted, I knocked the firearm out of his hands. As I’d been trained.
He growled, “That cost me a fortune,” and the firearm went off at random, a bullet ripping through my leg.
I cried out, and Xenebra ran. I let go and had Starborn catch up to her so she didn’t get herself or someone else hurt. Myata, stubbornly, ate the dune grass, chewing slowly.
“Empeza!” Goose called. She dismounted and I heard the hissing sound of a wyvern breathing hot fire.
The man cried out, and I ran in the direction of the gun and turned on the safety and made sure it was unloaded.
It was still hot, so I waited, and the man ran up to me.
I smacked him with the butt of what felt like a rifle, and sent him sprawling. My leg shook, and one of the guards arrived a moment after I collapsed.
“Empeza!” Zdrajca called.
He lifted me and I winced.
“I saw Xenebra and came running,” he explained, before I even asked.
He whistled, and Xenebra and Starborn returned. Starborn clung to Xenebra’s mane like she was a tick, after she sent me the mental image. She flew over to me and licked my cheek.
By the way, Papa’s in port.
Oh.
Zdrajca mounted me on Xenebra and told me to go to the nearest clinic, and I obliged. My parents knew what to do.
I steered Xenebra to the port and heard Goose following behind.
“Who was that?” Goose called.
“Zdrajca,” I elaborated. “Another guard,”
She caught up to me, and Starborn told me to stop. I dismounted, my leg hurting like the eleven hells, and listened for a familiar voice. I heard ship jargon, merchant jargon, things everywhere.
“-request an audience at the keep-”
“-five pounds lost over the edge-”
“-Ben tripulación, parada rápida, entón nós-”
“Mama!” I called.
I limped over, and felt a giant hug on my shoulders.
“Oh, Gaivota,”
“Ola, mama,” I whispered. “Así que me dispararon hai un momento,”
“Quen o fixo pagará, non importa quen,”
She scooped me into her arms and carried me onto our ship.
“CARDENAL!” she called.
My father came by and saw the injury, and broke into the common tongue.
“Alright, let's just get the bullet first, then we-”
I zoned out and stared back at nothing.
“Empeza!” Goose called.
“Gaivota, do you finally have a friend?”
“Yes, that’s Goose,”
“Let her board!” my mother called.
I heard footsteps, and felt Goose’s touch.
“Hey,” I mumbled, before kissing her on the nose.
She kneeled next to me and I felt the bullet exit my leg.
“Alright, we’re gonna cauterize your leg, alright, Gaivota?”
“Ben, papa,”
He left and got a torch, then had Starborn light it. The injury hurt as he brought the heat source closer, not at all like how Goose did it, but it wasn’t safe for her.
“Goose,” I croaked, “Can you hold my hand?”
“Sure, Empeza,” she whispered.
She pulled close and took my hand, and I squeezed, tight.
“I’m going to scream n-” I started, before the pain increased and I screamed.
Goose rubbed my forehead, and whispered, “You’ll be safe, you’ll be safe,”
She brushed through my hair with her fingers and her fingers heated to a gentle warmth. Whether on purpose or not, I don’t know, but I liked it all the same.
Eventually, the fire came away from my leg, and my father bandaged it, then gave me a walking stick to use for a while.
I returned to my darling horse, and Goose followed.
“So those were your parents? They seemed… cold. They didn’t even use your name once,”
“In my culture, we… nickname others. I have many, including one from my time in the army when I got stung by a bee and cried for two hours,”
“What?” Goose asked, clearly startled.
“Yeah they called me Tristeza Abella for the rest of the time. Means Bee Sadness, ‘cause the bee died and we had a funeral,”
I took her hand and said, “It was just silly, however,”
I showed her the scar, the result from all the itching, and she touched my shoulder, right where it was.
I mounted Xenebra and had her follow behind Goose and Myata.
—
Xenebra reared suddenly while we were traveling to the outskirts of town, knocking me off and into a crevice.
My arm cracked, and I tried to scramble out, but couldn’t find a handhold.
Starborn, how high are the walls?
Straight up for about ten feet. Miracle we survived.
“GOOSE!” I called. “Do you have like, twenty feet of rope?”
“No!” I heard Goose call.
“Can you go get some?”
“Probably!” she replied.
She left, and a few minutes later, returned with rope. She threw it down, and Starborn caught it. I started rappelling up and my knee gave out. I fell back, pulling Goose with me.
“Ow,” Goose mumbled. I rubbed her forehead, and I felt a pain in my chest, right on my rib.
“Owowowowowow,” I mumbled.
I heard hissing, and for a moment, I thought we were surrounded by snakes. Then something started talking.
“Ooh. Two little humans, wandering into our territory? Good. Fresh meat,”
Starborn described a bug-like creature that looked like the fae out of picture books. Snow skinned, big-eyed, luminescent wings.
It nipped at my arm, and I unsheathed my sword.
It hissed, backed away, and I slashed at its leg.
It screamed. Unearthly and vicious.
The creatures all backed away from me, all but one.
Starborn described it as a man with shiny golden skin, black bug wings, big bronze eyes and a beetle’s mandibles.
He walked forward, and grabbed my chin.
I raised my sword, and he spun me around almost effortlessly as I jabbed forward, hitting one of the bug things.
“Now now, little human,” he crooned, “Drop your little needle. After all, you don’t want to upset the master of the underground, do you?”
I felt my fingers open, and my sword clattered to the floor.
“Good. Good. Now, what brings you down here? Come to sacrifice yourselves?”
“I- I fell,”
His grip tightened.
“How does an ordinary human fall into here with no intents to meet us? Unless-”
He inhaled deeply and said, “Magic. How I hate the creatures,”
He grabbed my arm and I felt something sharp and wet touch my skin. His tongue.
“Now, go on, little human,” he hissed at Goose. “Say goodbye to your little friend,”
Starborn described Goose looking up at him, and she stared right into his eyes, then hissed, “No,”
She grabbed my sword, and he left me.
“Well, now, my little servants, what do we do to stubborn humans and their friends?”
A resounding choir of dozens of threats came from the mouths of these bug things.
When it died down, the human thing said, “Wrong, we make them see as we see,”
Starborn warned me about the creature lunging at me, and I pivoted to the side and tripped him.
He hissed at me and grabbed me, then pressed his finger to my forehead, and it felt like my ears popped as sounds I’d never heard before entered my ears. He touched Starborn’s snout, and Starborn nipped him.
Starborn described him approaching Goose, who’d been forced into an incredibly awkward position by the bug monsters, her arms spread out at her sides and her feet forced to the floor by two of the monsters sitting on her boots.
He touched her forehead, and she screamed and burned him with her fire. He recoiled, and-
I felt the breeze on my face, and heard Goose gasping for breath. I stumbled over to her and hugged her.
She hugged me back and gasped, “That actually happened. That was… weird,”
“I know,” I replied.
I whistled for Xenebra, who came running. I patted her shoulder, only to realize something was terribly wrong. Her hair felt like it was solid bark, and when I patted her mane, it felt like it was made of leaves.
“What in the eleven hells?” I muttered.
Xenebra raised her head, then muttered in my language, “Cando imos ir?”
I yelped, and Starborn told me Xenebra turned her head to look at me with one eye, then lowered herself to look closer to Xenebra. Xenebra’s face was made of loose twigs, underneath, there was hair and leaves, but the outer layer was still bark.
“Podes entenderme? Hurra!”
She licked my face, her tongue still a normal tongue.
Alright, so her outer layer is patches of black and white bark, and from far away, she still looks like a semi-normal horse. Starborn told me.
Interesting.
Xenebra started running without my command, and I heard Goose’s horse galloping after us, Goose on its back.
“Empeza!” she called.
I told Xenebra to stop, and she obeyed.
Goose approached, and I had Xenbra approach her, then held her hand and our horses walked back to the market. Xenebra didn’t talk when we hit town.
At least, not until we approached a different stall that sold sugar cubes, and she showed quite a bit of interest, begging me for a sugar cube.
I patted her mane to direct her toward the stall, and dismounted, and bought her and Myata a sugar cube. This merchant was far less pushy, and didn’t pull a firearm on us, so, all around pretty good.
Xenebra ate the sugar cube from my hand, and I gave Goose one to feed Myata.
“Grazas!” Xenebra whinnied.
She trotted through the streets and toward the keep.
We went up the road and Xenebra snorted when we stopped outside the stables. She snapped her head back and bucked, the animated, albeit annoying, personality she’d displayed dissipated.
She whinnied and bucked once more, before finally stopping and saying, “Malo,”
“Que?” I asked.
“Home de comida,”
“Quen?” I asked.
She knickered and hit my nose with her head, and I called for Igor.
She reared, and Igor pulled her down when he exited the stable. With surprising strength, despite his small stature.
She butted him with her snout, and I pulled on her reins, then patted her neck.
Igor looks… wrong. He’s like the golden-skinned creature, but instead gray skinned, and he has colorful and glittery membrane wings. I think he can tell something’s wrong.
“Empeza? Why’s your horse still acting weird?” His voice still sounded normal.
Xenebra lowered her head and bellowed, and I told him to go.
“Alright,”
He left, and Xenebra calmed. I dismounted, and my leg exploded into pain when I hit the ground.
“Xenebra, foise.”
I limped over to the stable, guiding her and Myata into their stalls.
I hand fed Xenebra a handful of oats, and she knickered happily.
“Ata pronto,” I whispered, before pressing my forehead to her snout.
She snorted and walked away, then lay down on the floor and closed her eyes, according to Starborn.
Goose took my arm and said, “If you need to rest, tell me, and we can sit down,”
“Alright,” I replied. She and I walked, and I tired, but forced myself to walk on. Embarrassed, I just shut up and stayed walking, even when my exhaustion and pain got to be too much.
I tripped, and found I could barely stand.
“Goose, I can’t move,” I mumbled.
Goose took my hand and attempted to pull me up, but the difference in size made it near impossible for her.
She ordered Pandolin to go get a medic and he flew away.
Goose squeezed my hand tight and I sniffled, “Hurts,”
“Don’t worry, Empeza, don’t worry,”
She hugged me and I cried into her shirt and I reached for the familiar grip of my sword’s hilt. I wasn’t going to use it, I just felt comforted when it was in my hand.
I heard someone shouting, and I heard my brother shout, “I DEMAND AN AUDIENCE WITH NASILJE!”
“Santi!” I called.
Santi ran over and hugged me, every second step with the thud of his un-oiled prosthetic spring-leg.
“Empeza!” he called. He hugged me and shook Goose’s hand, then broke to speak to me rapidly in our native language.
He finished with, “-Onde esta Anika?”
“Levarona,” I whimpered.
“No. No,”
He broke off.
“When’s her trial?”
“I don’t know,”
“The rei está chegando,” he said.
I heard a fellow guard, Artyam's approach.
“Sirrah, please leave,” Artyam said.
“Arty, no. He’s my brother, he just wanted to talk to Nasilje about someone in the dungeons that’s at risk of death,”
“Who?”
I swallowed and scrambled to think of someone whose crime was as severe.
“My wife, Anika. She’s the-”
I cut him off, “She’s the one who killed my husband,”
“SHE WAS FRAMED!” He snapped.
“Framed? How so?” I asked. Starborn told me it was her.
He whispered in my ear, “Someone wanted to hire her to kill him, and she refused. Next thing we heard about the hit, she had a warrant for her arrest because someone said she was the one who killed him,”
“What?” I hissed.
“Get me to Nasilje, help me clear her name, didn’t you see who killed him?”
I glared at him with my empty eyes and said, “I can’t,”
“Sorry, forgot. Hi Starborn,”
He scratched underneath Starborn’s chin and Starborn shivered.
Goose helped me to my feet and said, “That’s your brother?”
“Yep,” I sighed.
He went off in the direction of Nasilje’s audience room and Sascha approached. He lifted me onto a portable cot and he and Goose carried me to the infirmary.
“Bleh, I feel pain,” I mumbled.
“Just wait,” Sascha ordered.
He set me on a permanent bed, and I closed my eyes, falling asleep.
—
“Will she be alright?”
“We’re keeping her for a few days,”
“No,” I croaked. “My- executions, my parents, my- home- Xenebra’ll throw a fit,”
“Don’t listen, she’s delirious,”
“NO I’M NOT!”
“Have some brandy, you’re in for a long, painful night,”
“Can Goose stay?”
“I have to go back,” she said. “I work tomorrow, after all,”
“Hrmph. Alright. I’ll see you tomorrow?”
“Yeah,” Goose replied.
She shooed Sascha away, closed the curtains around my bed, and kissed me on the forehead.
“Good night,” she whispered.
whumpee but gets set on fire and then gets extinguished and gets left out in the cold.
(definetly didn't do this for characters coming in arc two of golden and silver nosirree
Prompt: Raven
Prompt By: Myself
Day 6
*"Since The Death Of God, There Has Been A Vacancy Open"
*"You Can Fill That Void, Here's How."
More extreme expression + lighting practice with young Ford this time?
Didn't realize how many of the scenes I've got scripted so far involve fire.
"He recognized the port, of course he did. How could he not? It was his home . Tinged by pinkish glass, Gravity Falls slept quietly outside the window.
The first cannonball that ripped through the still night air felt as if it blew a hole through his heart."
Redraw of this picture, now that we've finally reached that part of the story!
(Without the glass effects below)
Trust me. Love me. Shoot me.
Atsumu Miya x female reader
Summary: Atsumu finds himself with a young woman who is more that what she seems.
A/n: I had zero motivation to day to write this but please enjoy!? As always, please don’t repost! To support me please like or reblog. Also!! Send me a request if you want to be added to the tags list for this series!
Y/n= your name
L/n= Your last name
Y/h/c= your hair colour
Y/e/c= your eye colour
Warning: extremely unedited, mentioned blood, mentioned fire, burning, medical stuff, needles
Previous//Next
Atsumu woke up with the warm morning sun spilling through the window, and the fresh morning air cascaded through the open window. There was no pain in his body and his head was light. His head was lying on a soft, plush pillow and the silk sheets were smooth against his skin. Everything was fine.
Well almost fine. The only problem was that he didn’t own any silk sheets. He had scratchy cotton ones. In alarm, Atsumu sat up straight and looked around the somewhat familiar room. He was is a room with lightly coloured walls and a few plants which hung from the ceiling. Beside the door was a body length mirror with two coat hooks beside it. Next to where he sat was a beige bedside table with two drawers and a single daisy in a small glass jar and 2 doors which he guessed led to the closet. Directly across from him was a desk with a small stack of books, a spiral bounded notebook, and a few pens, along with a girl, L/n. She had her nose in a book. Her eyes following the line she was reading. Her face was relaxed, but scrunched in displeasure, or maybe anticipation, at the book in front of her. Her nimble fingers flipped the page. As she kept reading, her eyebrows scrunched and her mouth fell open in surprise, or maybe hatred or shock, at the new page. That was a beautiful expression that she wore.
Astumu didn’t want to admit it, but she was beautiful. Her face was doll-like, giving her the illusion of youth, but her eyes showed much more maturation and pain, but held kindness and love. Her lips looked soft and sweet, and were especially beautiful when she pulled her mouth into a wide smile. Her hair looked elegant however it fell around her face, or maybe she would look more breathtaking with her hair up. It beautifully framed her face, and made her y/e/c eyes stand out. L/n’s voice was also beautiful. It was melodic and sweet, but could also held the intensity of a thousand dagger. Her laugh would sound nice too. Maybe it would be a light chuckle. Or maybe a breathy laugh where she would crinkle her nose. Or if her laugh was a belly laugh full of life and happiness. That would be lovely. Astumu watched as her face contorted to many different emotions, surprise, hate, confusion. But it made him sad that her face was almost always neutral. Emotionless.
Suddenly, the door opened, and in walked the man with dark hair and metallic blue eyes. He was very tall and was decently built. His eyes scanned the room taking inventory of the situation. L/n looked up from her book and gave him a discreet nod.
“Hello L/n-san. Anything new?” He asked. His voice was smooth and empty. His eyes, and L/n’s shifted to Atsumu. He felt like a monkey in a zoo enclosure, with everyone watching him as he flung his feces at the wall. He watched as L/n and the dark haired man had a conversation though eye contact, head movements and face expressions. The “conversation” mainly consistent of L/n rolling her eyes and the man angrily raising his eyebrows.
“Well do you have a plan for that ?” L/n said finally, breaking the silence, but adding to the tension within the small room. At least Astumu knew that the mystery man’s wasn’t a potential danger.
“Well Y/n we need to take care of Miya-san first. For all we know you would have brought a wanted criminal into our house! How do you think the rest of us will react?” The man yell at her. L/n kept her face straight. No sign of any emotions covered her face and her eyes became more intense, almost like a tiger ready to kill.
“I am going to say it once. This is my house. I will decide when things happen and how things will happen. I decided to help someone who was dying on the street, and you don't get to judge my kindness. Not after what happened at the train station!" she stated with a calm icy tone, book long forgotten on the desk. The room was noticeably colder and Atsumu was feeling unsure of what was happening. The tall man stood, face unmoved, but behind his eyes showed something more. Something about the train station bugged him. He didn't speak or move, but his compliance was displayed through his eyes. He walked out wordlessly and shut the door behind him. Astumu was still in shock. Not sure if it was the situation in general, or maybe it was the amount of power L/n held.
“So how are you feeling, Miya-san?” She asked, breaking Atsumu from his thoughts. Her voice back to the sweet voice he remembered from the day before.
“Am fine, what just happened?” Her inquired curiously, hoping to get an answer. The mysterious man gave Atsumu many question, and not a single answer.
“Well Miya-san, I think you are forgetting our deal. You said you would tell me everything, and so far you haven’t. So if you could please tell me, then go ahead.” She replied in a teasing manner. Astumu tensed at her light hearted tone. The stark contrast between her light-hearted tone now and the cold tone from just minutes ago made his skin crawl. The eagerness was written on her face as she sat cross legged in the chair across from him.
“Well it’s complicated. Ya see, we were gonna ambush a rival yakuza. But they saw us comin’ and fought us back. A got hit a few times, then someone lit the building on fire. I ran out, then I ended up here.” He said, recalling the events of that night. He remembered the scent of blood, both his and the people around him, and the gasoline, and the horrid screams of people in the fire as their bodies burned. He was lucky that he got out. He wondered about his closest acquaintances, Kita, Suna, and Aran. But also his twin brother, Osumu. Damn how could this happen? If anything happened to them, then it would be his fault. All because of his recklessness. Snapping out of his thoughts, he looked at L/n who was in deep thought. Her forehead was crinkled and her eyes seemed to be seeing right through him.
After what could have been only five minutes, she got up quietly and walked towards the closet. Inside the closet was an artillery of medical supplies. Multiple boxes of gloves and masks, along with a small fridge that held many small bottles of drugs. There were also a crash cart with everything that could be sues in an emergency, a defibrillator, a breathing bag, a tracheotomy kit and tubes. There were also about 3 oxygen tanks with small carts. She rummaged around in the closet until she got out some bandages and a small suture kit with a pair of needle drivers and toothed forceps along with a few other tools Atsumu could not recognize. Then L/n grab a small vile of drug and a needle from another part of the closet. She walk towards Atsumu, tools in hand as he watched curiously. As she go to the bed side table, she injected the needle into the vile which Astumu could now read as “morphine” and carefully pulled back the piston until there was maybe 5 milligrams of morphine. She grabbed his left arm and injected it into his bicep. Then she grabbed his left leg and removed the bandages from his leg. At first, he was questioning his lack of pants, before he remembered the “incident”. As your hands nimbly unwrap the bandage, the stench from his leg escaped into the room, causing him to plug him nose, but L/n seemed unaffected as she unwrapped the bandages. Once the bandages were removed she walked to the small garbage can beside the foot of the bed, which he did not notice, which was already half full of bloody bandages and the sweatpants from earlier. L/n carefully inspected the neatly done stitches, making sure there was no sign of the wound reopening. Once she was sure there was no sign of reopening or infection, she rewrapped the leg in new clean bandages.
“Thank you for the information Miya-san, you will need to rest so your wounds don’t reopen or become worse. I will be back in a few hours so please don’t move and if you need anything please just scream.” She said curly before turning around and leaving before he could reply. Atsumu felt very confused, but he also felt drowsiness. “Maybe from the morphine” he thought before drifting off to sleep.
Sometime later, he woke up to hearing voices down the stairs. There were 3 male voices and L/n’s. They were murmuring urgently.
“L/n-san, we can’t let him stay here. It’s too dangerous. If they find us we will be killed. You know that.” Said the first voice, which sounded like the mystery man from earlier in the day.
“No Akaashi-san, it will be fine.” Replied another deeper voice. “I don’t see why not besides we could take care of anything that happens.”
“Why are you being kind to that lowly yakuza. It doesn’t fit your character.” Replied the first voice, which Atsumu now knew belonged to the mystery man, Akaashi.
“I am always this kind. Besides Akaashi, you are just overthinking it too much.” Said the deep voice again.
“Yeah ‘Kaashi, I agree with them” said another , “Even if they figure out that we were responsible for those incidents, they have no proof”.
“Exactly Akaashi-san,” you agreed, “And if he does anything, then I will take care of him”.
Taglist:
@kayleighbeccaa
Trust me. Love me. Shoot me.
Atsumu Miya x female reader
Summary: Atsumu finds himself with a young woman who is more that what she seems.
A/n: Well the creativity god have given me ideas and a literal change in perspectives. Please be nice, I take constructive criticism well no i dont. Also, please dont plagiarize or repost!
Warning: mention of dead bodies, blood, selling bodies, fire, burning bodies, gasoline and alcohol, arson, implied violence, Atsumu is now a princess, unedited. As always Also kinda dark so if you dont want to read that please skadaddle
Masterlist
Previous//Next
Well, that was unexpected. Y/n really did not expect an ambush on their safe house. The bodies where bloodied on the ground. Faces contorted in anguish and pain surrounded her. Kuroo and Kenma were calling some people from the Nekoma family to help clean up. Bokuto was moving the bodies, while Akaashi was directing him where to place each. There could have been up to 40 bodies on the ground, coving the ground in crimson blood. The once elegant sitting room had now been destroyed. The tall glass windows were now shattered. The breathtaking fire place was now noting put a pile of rocks. And worst of all, the comfy sectional was now ripped and torn in far too many places. Well looks like this place was going to have to burn.
Since revealing her true job. Miya-san hadn’t spoken a word. His eyes were perpetually following her. L/n would catch his lingering eyes on her as she talked to Kenma, or helped Bokuto lift a body. Was it really that surprising? The five worked the silence, moving bodies, and taking inventory of the weapons. Her tomahawk, Akaashi and Kenma’s knives, Kuroo’s taser and Bokuto’s frying pan (Y/n wasn’t sure where he got it, or why he had it) were lying in a pile, long forgotten. Words were exchange her and there in effort to make the body clean-up easier. The bodies were lying in a straight row, Akaashi had already gone to grab bed sheets to cover the bodies. Flys were moving into the room, flying about and landing on the dead and living bodies in the room. Their constant buzz became a rhythmic tempo as each person worked.
Soon after the bodies were covered, the door opened and entered 2 new people. Their heights difference and silhouettes were dead give aways. The shorter one, Yaku, who reminded Y/n of a chihuahua, paced towards Kuroo, while the taller one, Lev, who’s monster exterior did not reflect on his string-bean personality, gravitated towards Kenma. Bokuto and Akaashi were discussing something. Y/n was never too sure what Bokuto was ever thinking. He was as special type of special (Not hating on him though, he has always been an amazing person. Everyone should take time everyday to appreciate him). Atsumu, who seemed to be in less shock was starting to walk around the room, taking inventory on the two new people and and lines of corpses on the ground.
Yaku and Lev were asking a plethora of questions, ranging from “How’s your mom?” To “Should we sell the bodies?”. Anyone who was clueless about the situation would probably call the police. Nonetheless, Yaku removed the bodies to his van to take to Yaku-land (Yaku never tells people where he actually takes things like bodied or drugs, so instead, he calls it “Yaku-land”). Lev on the other hand, he was bullying the injured Atsumu, poking him, taking his crutches, calling him “cripple”. All to which Atsumu didn’t seem to take to heavily.
Once the bodies, leaving six behind, where taken and Yaku and Lev had left, it was time for the plan to start. First step was to pour anything flammable everywhere. Gasoline and alcohol were poured everywhere leaving the foul stench to wander through the air. The left over bodied were then heavily drizzled in gasoline. They need to burn the most.
Next in the very complex plan (thank you Akaashi), New clothes. Akaashi and Kenma grabbed some new clothes for the group to wear, sweater shirts and pants for Kenma, Atsumu and Bokuto, a baby blue sweater vest and slacks for Akaashi, and a simple two piece suit for Kuroo, and a pair of cropped mom jeans and a sweater for Y/n. As they were leaving the house, careful not to touch the liquids which coated everything, the six grabbed some essential, food, water, and car keys, and lit the house on fire with a simple match.
The fire roared as the house fell. The walls were burning as the fire grew. The flames were visible through the windows and the dense smoke drifted into the sky. Everyone ran away from the flames as the devoured the house. No one stopped, worried that someone would see them as they ran away from the crime scene. The exhilarating rush of adrenaline and the taste of arson was pushing everyone to run faster and faster. Atsumu, who was being carried by Bokuto like he was a princess, even seemed to enjoy the high of arson.
When they reached the car, a honda odyssey (which are great get away cars if you are trying to go unnoticed), Bokuto tried to place the princess down, he fought back. Kicking and thrashing in Bokuto’s arms, Akaashi and Kuroo tried to hold him down with on avail, and Kenma was calming playing animal crossing. Y/n tried to get him to calm down, but the large man child, kept wiggling and squirming. When he finally gave up, the look of defeat covered him face, then a look of sorrow and regret, then pure anger.
“Miya, you need to stay with us.” Said Y/n, pleading for him to stay. Y/n knew that if he left, he would get attacked again and then he wold die. And that would not be beneficial to anyone.
“Y/n, A can’t stay! Yer house was destroyed cause of me! Did ya know that! If A wasn’t there ya would have been fine! Beside, how do A know ya aren’t gonna kill me? Huh? Ya could just be using me to uh” he stuttered as he thought of a sound reason, “uh sell me? Or trade me? Or even force me to work! That would be horrible! Ma hands aren’t made for work, ya know! A thought you were a doctor Ms ‘freelance assassin’”. Y/n looked at him like a crazy person. Did he really think that she would do that? And after all the hospitality which she offered? Rude. Y/n wanted to prove him wrong. She wasn’t that type of person. The other boys, who were still holding him down all stared at her, waiting for her decision.
“Atsumu, I realize how you feel”, y/n begins, trying her best to sound confident, “But right now if you want to live, you need to come with us. We are going to the Nekoma/Fukoridani base. We won’t hurt you, but please, I really need you to trust me”.
Taglist: Request to be added :)
@kayleighbeccaa @jojowantstocry
Should I post here more?
arsenne brand, aka raisel brandt, she is a mecha pilot with cool metal hands and fire powers infused into her blood. you know how it is.
arsenne brand, aka raisel brandt, she is a mecha pilot with cool metal hands and fire powers infused into her blood. you know how it is.
Character Question 16
If your character could only save one thing from their burning house, what would it be?
Bella: her tool belt. It's got all of her most important flash drives and her tools which took ages to collect. Or at least she'd grab that after making sure her family is safe
Freddie: His comics. His portable chemistry kit would catch his eye, but the comics are so much more valuable, in more ways than one. He loves them more than life and they bring him so much joy. Also, they're no longer being printed as quickly as they used to be, so there's a finite quantity in the world.
Zach: He would run up to his bedroom and start tossing stuffed toys out the window. He would stay saving toys until the door was on fire and he couldn't breathe before jumping out the window himself and swinging down the tree.
You absolutely roasted Councilmen in the beginning and I was not ready for that
TSS Snippet: Garden Fire
Aka, ‘Let Aspen Say Fuck’ Scenario #2:
Emry was on the cusp of drifting into a lovely nap- on a sun-warmed couch and just after having a snack, no less- when the smell of smoke jarred his nose.
For a moment, he considered ignoring it. He hadn’t touched the fireplace recently, had lit no candles. Surely everything was fine, and these cushions were just so nice and warm-
“Fuck!”
He jolted up and fell off the sofa.
“Aspen?” His head whipped around for the source of the curse. He couldn’t hear any footsteps inside the house, nor an echo of their voice in the halls- they must be in the garden. With a groan, he scrambled to his feet and sprinted outside.
“What’s happening- Aspen!” He skidded to a halt at the back door.
The rose bushes were on fire, and Aspen was darting between them and the birdbath in the center of the garden, cupping water in their hands and tossing it onto the burning leaves. The splashes fizzled and smoked with all the effectiveness of a Councilman’s thoughts and prayers.
Keep reading
Manifesting Drivers License +Magick
Disclaimer : I am not undermining any of the actual effort me, my instructor or examiner did. I am just explain the methods I used. You also do not have to do all of at once or all together, it is really what ever you want.
Trigger warning: Blood
Backstory: To begin with, I failed my first driving test. I had a hard examiner and I was nervous. I also listened to subliminal and affirmed throughout the day of my test, however I began to waver and got too nervous.
I believe I did better on my first road test then, than my second one. However, that was bc the examiner was very strict. Now, why did I pass this time? I manifested a lenient examiner.
Here is what I did 3 days before the test:
I would take 5 mins to myself and affirm on loop,
I have my drivers license the test was easy
my road test examiner is lenient and kind
I know the rules of the road, I am confident , etc
Even if deep down I didn't believe, or I asked myself "what if I fail this time too? I shut it down, I just keep repeating my desired reality, where I passed and had an easy examiner.
--
Meditation
Meditation is extremely important as it not only grounds you but gets you in tuned with your desire.
I actually just listened to a "good grades meditation" video but I change the affirmations, to align with my driving test.
here is the link : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HbyeG2zt_9c&list=PLNR3aZeW45X4G13k7z2I4OB28VqtECsGn&index=8
( I strongly recommend this youtuber))
--
Lastly, this is for my witches who want to add a little kick.
TW : Blood, Fire, Candle
I did candle magick // meditation
I made a candle for prosperity, ( you can use whatever colour candle you want, I only had white so that what I used)
I carved what I wanted onto the candle : good luck , money etc
you can use symbols, whatever you want.
I then dressed it with oil, again , you can use whatever oil you want. Preferably, an oil that aligns with good luck.
Then I rolled it up in herbs that represented the things I wanted, so if you want good luck in love? crush up some roses and roll the candle over that. You can add as much herbs as you want. TW: I added a small piece of my blood on the candle and the herbs. ( I do not advise// condone purposely hurting yourself, I accidentally hurt myself and decided to use that blood in my spell. Also, you do not need to use blood )
After, make sure the candle is in some type of jar to contain it in.
light the candle and mediate on your desires, live in the wish fulfilled , you got your drivers license, how did it go? how do you feel now? You can also stare into the flame when doing this.
Safety Warning
( be careful of where you burn the candle though. Make sure you are not near anything inflammable, closed areas etc. Make sure you at least are near a window or have water next to you. Best to just go outside. I am not liable for anything that you choose to do )
Best of luck!
I’m really glad that Aaron’s self-immolation for Palestine is getting attention, but on November 8th there was also a Congolese man who did the same thing for the genocide happening in the DRC. From what I read in the article above, his fate and identity are unknown but I think his story should be getting equal amount of traction and I haven’t really seen anyone talking about it on Tumblr specifically yet.
A little portrait of another character from my wip novel, she's uh- mid villain arc, don't mind her arson.
Can i request Derek taking his anger out on fem!reader after the "he took you home" ending? You can make it as nasty as you want 👀
a/n: sure! i luv that sleazy, bleach-blonde bastard. hope you like it! :3
PLAYING WITH FIRE
{ derek goffard x f! reader }
word count: 2.4k
warnings/tags: NON-CON, painal, fire torture, burning, stomping, mutilation (?), degradation, name-calling, humiliation.
As you blink away the haze of sleep, the painful wound in your back throbs dully amidst newer aches. With a shuddering breath, you try to push yourself upright, only to be met with the uncomfortable resistance of chains binding your wrists. The cold, varnished floorboards press into your bare skin, making you acutely aware of your nakedness.
"Hello!? Where am I?" your voice cracks, echoing slightly in the vast, lavishly furnished room.
The door swings open as you struggle to make sense of your opulent, yet foreboding surroundings. Derek steps into the room, his presence immediately filling the space with a palpable tension. He's meticulously groomed and dressed in an expensive, tailored suit; a stark contrast to the dishevelled, agonising figure you remember from the desert.
“Ah, finally awake, are we?” His smooth voice cuts through the silence, his smirk widening as he hungrily scans over your body. It's then you realize this is the man who revelled in your torment under the brutal desert sun— the same man you had desperately stabbed, yet had been too terrified to finish off.
You try to speak, but your voice is strangled by the rising panic, words lost in the jumble of your frightened thoughts. Instinctively, you slide back as he approaches, the cold metal chains clinking as your throbbing back slams against the wall.
“You remember me, don't you?” His voice is smooth, almost casual, but you can hear the malice underlying each word. “You stabbed me.” He emphasizes the word, his eyes gleaming with a sinister delight.
“I-I'm sorry,” the words tumble out as a weak whimper.
“Oh, I know you’re sorry.” Derek’s tone is mockingly sympathetic as he crouches in front of you, his face inches from yours. “But an apology won’t quite cut it, will it? No,” he shakes his head slowly, his words sending a shiver of dread through your spine.
You press back against the wall, trying to disappear into its cold embrace. The chill from the varnished wood floors beneath you seeps deeper into your bones, mirroring the cold dread that fills you as he leans closer. His presence suffocates, looming over you, chained and vulnerable.
Without a word, he reaches for your ankles, pulling sharply to straighten your body along the cold floor. The chains at your wrists tighten as your arms twist and pull at your shoulders. The metal is cold and unforgiving against your bruised skin as your joints are stretched to their limits.
"You know... I've thought long and hard about what I wanted to do to you once I got you here." Derek says, towering over you. He reaches around in his suit pockets and then produces a small bottle filled with a clear liquid and a sleek silver lighter. "Here, we won't run out of time," he adds, his eyes gleaming as he holds up the items for your inspection.
"If you don't die too soon, at least." With a chilling smirk, he swiftly slams his foot down hard on your stomach, the polished dress shoe pressing cruelly into your flesh.
You gasp, air whooshing out of your lungs, pain splintering through your body like shattered glass. Your eyes water, a silent scream etching itself into the frozen air as you struggle futilely against the icy hold of the chains. The weight of his shoe pins you helplessly as he unscrews the bottle's cap.
"Wh—" Your breath catches in your throat as the acrid scent of alcohol permeates the air. He grinds his foot deeper into your soft stomach, eliciting a pained grunt from your lips.
"Let's see how long you last," he muses, his words slithering through the air and sending waves of panic crashing over you.
With a chilling calmness, he begins drizzling the alcohol over your breasts; trailing a cold, wet path across the marred skin. Some drops seep into your fresh wounds, making your muscles tense involuntarily.
"No, please— Wait!" you plead, your voice cracking as each breath is laced with the sharp tang of isopropyl alcohol.
As Derek lowers the lighter to your chest, his eyes alight with a perverse pleasure. With a flick of his thumb, a small flame dances to life and the liquid ignites a blazing inferno upon your writhing body. For a fleeting moment, there's a bizarre sensation of warmth that tickles your skin, almost deceivingly gentle. But this warmth rapidly morphs into a deep, searing pain.
Within seconds, the ticklish sensation escalates into an unbearable burning. Your skin reacts violently to the intense heat, the pain magnifying as the fire consumes the alcohol-soaked area. The room fills with the acrid smell of burning as you scream, raw and guttural.
The sound of his laughter mingles with your cries as the flames dance hungrily across your tender breasts. You instinctively try to recoil, but the chains and the weight of his foot, hold you mercilessly in place.
"Awww... I could listen to you squeal like that all day," Derek taunts, his voice dripping with amusement as he watches the flames. "But I want this to last."
Abruptly, he shifts his stance, lifting his foot from your stomach and bringing it down sharply onto the flames on your chest. The polished shoe crushes the fire against your skin, smothering the flames with a series of swift, brutal stomps. The heat retreats as quickly as it had erupted, leaving behind a suffocating smoke, the grotesque smell of charred skin, and the lingering scent of alcohol.
Derek observes the aftermath with a twisted satisfaction, his shoe leaving a grim imprint on your abused flesh. Leaning down, he grips your face harshly, his fingers digging into your cheeks as he forces you to meet his gaze. "You look good when you're crying," he murmurs, a malicious smirk twisting his lips.
Before you can respond, he presses his foot down on the side of your face, turning your head sharply to the side. His other hand uncaps the bottle once more, and he begins dousing the other side of your face and neck with alcohol.
Muffled cries escape your lips, distorted and desperate, as Derek's shoe presses firmly against your cheek, pinning you to the hard floor. You struggle to breathe, each gasp a laborious effort as panic claws at your throat. Your sounds of distress are smothered under his force, reduced to whimpering that barely breaks the tense air of the room.
Leaning closer, his breath warm against your ear, Derek taunts, "What was that, bitch? Did you say something?" He pauses, feigning a moment of thoughtful consideration before his voice hardens. "Ah, you want me to burn your pretty little face, is that it?" With a cruel smirk, he straightens slightly, the pressure momentarily easing from your face before he shifts his stance.
"You really shouldn’t ask for things you don’t want," he murmurs darkly as he once again produces the sleek silver lighter. His fingers play over the metal, teasing the flame to life with a swift flick.
Holding your gaze with his, he lowers the flame deliberately towards the alcohol-soaked side of your face. The fire catches instantly and the heat sears your skin as it ignites. The initial warmth is swiftly overwhelmed by a sharp, engulfing pain that races across your flesh. As the flames lick upwards, the tips of your hair catch fire, adding a horrifying, crackling sizzle to the dreadful orchestra of your shrieking. Your cries intensify; a visceral reaction to the unbearable sensation of your skin and hair burning.
With deliberate cruelty, Derek shifts again, his shoe coming down hard on the burning side of your face. The sudden pressure extinguishes the flames and the harsh grind of his sole against your charred cheek sends a new wave of pain through your body. As he steps back, the smell of burnt hair and skin lingers nauseatingly in the air.
The room falls silent for a moment, save for your heavy, ragged breathing and the occasional clink of chains. Derek eyes the damage with a perverse sense of accomplishment. "Look at you now. Not so pretty anymore, are you?" he sneers.
He suddenly grabs your ankles and pushes them uncomfortably over your body so your toes touch the floor behind your head. The harsh and sudden movement forces you into a vulnerable and painfully distorted position. "Mmm, but your cute noises got me all excited," He purrs, fumbling with the zipper of his dress pants. Your cheeks flush with embarrassment as he peers down at you from between your thighs, his cock freed from the confines of his boxers.
"Now, beg for it," Derek demands, his voice low and commanding. "Beg for me to fuck you."
You swallow hard, your throat tight with fear and revulsion. You bite back a cry, clenching your eyes shut.
His hands, now gripping the backs of your thighs, push your knees even further towards your chest. The movement is so forceful that a sharp yelp escapes you despite your resolve.
"I said beg, slut" he repeats, his brows furrowing. "You were quick to beg for my cock out there in the desert; let's hear that desperation again, right here."
You turn your eyes away from his gaze, a small act of defiance against his demands. However, the cruel delight in his eyes intensifies as he reaches beside him, retrieving the sleek silver lighter once again. His fingers play over the metal deliberately as he watches your eyes widen with renewed fear. The small flame springs to life with a click, its glow reflecting ominously in his turquoise eyes.
"Or," he murmurs, the flame now hovering dangerously close to the sensitive skin between your legs. "I could burn you where it'll hurt most."
Panic claws at your chest, your heart hammering wildly as the heat from the flame prickles your inner thigh. The threat is clear and imminent, pushing you to the brink.
"Please, Derek," your voice trembles, the horror of the situation squeezing the air from your lungs. "Please fuck me... I'll do anything. Just don't burn me again... please."
The words tumble out of your mouth, broken and raw, the shame of hearing your own voice reduced to such desperation echoing within you. Derek's smirk widens in response, a twisted satisfaction lighting up his eyes.
The flame suddenly licks across the tender skin of your vulva, causing you to scream in pain. "Oops," he says nonchalantly, watching as the small burn mark forms.
"No, please, stop it!" you cry out shakily, tears welling in your eyes. "Please... anything but this,"
"Hah! I like really that pathetic look on your face," he sneers, the flame flickering dangerously close one last time before he snuffs it out.
With a cruel smirk, he deliberately spits on your clenched hole, the warm liquid landing with a sickening splatter. You recoil in disgust, waves of shame and humiliation crashing over you. "I knew you'd be begging for me to fuck you," Derek chuckles, leaning close as his hot breath brushes against your burned face.
He positions himself at your entrance, the smirk never leaving his face. he taunts, pushing forward without any gentleness. The discomfort is immediate, intensifying the mix of pain and humiliation already consuming you.
He curses under his breath as he slides into you, the ring of muscles gripping tight around him. His fingers squeeze into your hips, anchoring him as he moves with ruthless intent.
"That's it, cry," he whispers harshly in your ear, each word punctuated by another forceful movement. His laughter is low and dissonant, mixing with the sound of your choked sobs. He thrusts harder, his body pressing down on yours with a cruel weight.
"I love hearing you like this," Derek hisses, his breath hot against your neck. The pain from the burns and his brutal handling makes each moment excruciating. Your vision blurs with tears, the room spinning as you struggle to find any semblance of control over the situation.
Suddenly, Derek stops, pulling back slightly to look down at you with a twisted grin. "You know, I think you enjoy this. All this pain, the humiliation. It's what you deserve, isn't it?" His words cut deeper than any physical wound, his voice dripping with cruelty.
You gasp for breath, trying to form words, to deny his accusations, but the pain overwhelms you, stealing your voice.
Without warning, his hand grips your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes are cold, devoid of any humanity as he scrutinizes your tear-streaked face. "Look at me," he commands, his voice a low growl. "I want to see your pain."
You stare back at him, your eyes wide with fear. Derek’s face inches is from yours as he resumes his movements; slow and deliberate now, watching your reactions with sick satisfaction.
The room fades around you, your senses dulled by the overwhelming pain and fear. You feel disconnected, as if watching the horror unfold from outside your own body. Derek's voice, his harsh breaths, and the cold chains become distant sounds, muffled by the roaring in your ears.
As he continues, his grip on you tightens, his body pressing down with oppressive weight. "You’re mine, my property," he whispers, each word a venomous promise. "No one can hear you here. No one will save you."
You struggle to focus on anything but the pain, the burning sensation that seems to consume every inch of your being. Your thoughts spiral out of control and your body feels like it's being torn apart. Derek leans forward, bracing himself on one arm as he thrusts deeper, harder.
Finally, his movements grow erratic, his breaths coming faster as he nears his release. His lips nearly touch your ear as he delivers a final, chilling message. "Remember this pain," he murmurs. "It’s only the beginning."
With those words, Derek finishes inside, his body shuddering above you. You feel his warmth fill you as he slowly pulls out, sliding free with a wet, sucking sound.
He stands, fixing his clothing with quick, efficient movements, never looking back at you. The door clicks shut behind him, leaving you alone in the suffocating silence of the room.
You lie there, aching and broken, the tears drying on your cheeks. The chains rattle faintly as you shift, the cold metal a harsh reminder of your captivity. In the silence, your mind whispers a vow, a flicker of defiance in the darkness: somehow, you will survive this. You must.