PLEASE I BEG!! Anything of liu would be amazing! If you have the time to get to this thank you and have a good day/night! <3
Ask and you shall recieve :3
Tw: None
Wc: about 450
This is just pure fluff, Gn plus size reader
Difficult wakings
Getting used to the quite vampiric lifestyle at first was a bit hard. Reversing your entire balance of life, it was tiring and difficult, on some points you messed up so bad that you went back to normal. Even though you were nocturnal mostly because you couldnt sleep, it was more difficult, but still easier than expected –especially when a certain someone ushers you to sleep or wake up at the "right time"–.
The last rays of sunshine shone through the curtains and blinds. Liu has always woken up before you, just to see you resting, just to see your face all soft and pudgy, when it isnt full of strictness and tensing from stress of a hard run. At those times he wishes just to squeeze you until you pop, to bite and bite until he has consumed you and could never leave him. The other end of his cuteness agression is wanting to burrow himself into you mass, he doesnt care how much is fat, or how much is muscle, he wants to burrow in you and stay there forever.(sexual innuendo not intended)
It's those time, but this time, you woke up first. He way under your shirt, an arm was thrown over your middle –your mass almost dwarfing his arm–, his face burrowed into your chest. You could only see tufts of his dark brown hair peeking from your collar. 'What a shame' you sigh emptyly, no real negativity behind it. You rolled your shirt up just to see, things like this or being naked around eachother was never a problem neither with you or Liu, it was only sexual when one of you made it.
It was rare to see him so at peace. His face was all smushed against you, his face mostly free of tense lines, his scars like a state map on his face. Your fingers moved before your mind did, tracing his scars in feather-light strokes, there was something so beautiful about the scars, even if they are reminders of what he went through, maybe that's the beauty in them, maybe how it frames his face perfectly, or maybe how he'd be so strakly different without them –saw that once when you covered them up heavily for a mission–.
Liu stirred once, his eyelashes fluttering. You pull your hand away, not wanting to 'ruin' the moment of seeing him awake. That's when your phone started ringing with the alarm to wake up, you scrambled to turn it off, but his hand was faster. "Slept well, My heart?" His voice is rough and drawly from sleep, his oh-so green eyes barely open, but already on your face.
"Wanted to see me asleep a bit longer, hm?" He asks when you barely answer. You only give a huff, which he chuckles at, pressing a kiss to your sternum. "What if I do? It's so rare to see you so peaceful" You take his face into your hands, caressing his cheeks lovingly. He melts into your hands, almost falling back asleep before he shakes himself back up. He kisses your hand before he says: "Time to get ready" "Five more minutes?" You plead, you know he wont say no when he melts back into your embrace.
Tw: cannon typical violence, fluff at the end, mostly Reader's plot, reader is THAT girl, reader has an established last name, reader has slender-sickness, other proxies mentioned but not by name,
Wordcount: 3.5.k
A/N: The end is short because I have wrote this in one go at 3AM because yes, so, enjoy this will be reader plot heavy idk if i want a part two yet
Melodies...Melodies
Navigation
Creepypasta masterlist
The Ranch was all you knew.
The Ranch was safety, the Ranch was home.
Father always said you had an eye for aiming, that you could throw down empty canisters like they personally offended you. That you could throw rocks at hares with such precision. Him and Mother ran one of the largest ranches.
Mother always said your hands were wasted with hunting, that your hands could be used for sewing, crafts, that you sew and crafted like a manufacturer, and maybe you did. Even she admit that it would be a shame to not teach you how to hold a rifle.
By time you were sixteen, your aim was sharp, sharper than a barber's razor, you hands were dexterious, like a thief's hands for lock picking. Your mind was fast, like a rattle snake's reflexes. Your words were venomous, and that was just the top of the iceberg of what you were amazing at.
Everybody in town knew you, Hell everybody in towns over and those towns over knew you. The Eldest Daughter of the Sinclair family.
This summer was cruel, it took, and took, and took, until It burned up everything you ever had. No water, no humidity, only heat, even the grass was yellow, it was a wonder how even some of the crops survived. The loss was great, many cattle, a good chunk of the herd, some chickens, It was brutal.
Not even most of the Skeeters made it through--- that was the only good.
The air was dry and still, not even the wind wanting ---or daring --- to move, the ground was stiff and cracking, so hard you had to get three swings with your hoe to turn the ground properly. The Sun was beaming down, no clouds in the sky, the night will be cold.
The fence needed fixing, some coyotes got through, even though the dogs got them, hopefully. It still needed fixing, if a batch of them got in-and-out the other night, another batch will get in-and-out this night too, meaning collapsing the whole thing, and rebuilding it ---In the beaming sun.
Great.
This is what life demanded, another day of keeping the Ranch alive mean another day of your surivival. Almost everyone was out, except your mother and two of your sisters, they kept the soul in your brothers, in your father, and in you. The promise of lunch, and some cold sweet tea kept you through the building process. The process wasnt piddling, it was quite fast. Nobody wanted sun-sickness.
By noon the fence was done.
"Ca'eful if you goin' out in town." Father warned you, his voice serious, too serious. Crime has been higher than normal, more bodies turning up than ever, more people filling up the clinks than ever. There was atleast three sheriffs in one town. The survivors of one of these night attack went mental, paranoia, hallucinations, oblivion, violent streaks, then death. Thieves were more active, train robberies were more often.
The tension in the town was palpable, everyone was tense, tense shoulders, tense necks, shushed whispers, more wanted posters on the board, even though the prices got lower, there were more, and more the crimes, ---more the money for their heads.
The run to town was quick, something in your gut. Something in your gut told danger. It curled deep within in you. It made itself home in your gut, climbing up into your chest winding up your body like a bow string.
The routine was monotone, checking the herd, feeding the cattle, collecting the eggs. This day was different. Your gut didnt calm, it only tensed you up, your body was on pins and needles. You were flinchy, skittish even, maybe even paranoic.
The dogs were nowhere to be seen, not a sound of their nails, not a sound of their panting, not a whine, not a rattle of their collar, not a swish of their tails. Nothing.
Then came the fence.
The fence had to be checked, was it effective?
Certainly...
Against coyotes, you suppose
Something struck your eye, a nice big hole in the mesh, and sure as hell it wasnt a coyote. Something even the dogs couldnt deal with. The dogs were laid on the ground, big scars, craved with knives, bled out. Some around the fence, some outside of the fence. Something big was here, and it seemed to take nothing. Nothing from the herd, not one horse missing, not one cattle missing, not one chicken missing.
Like it showed you it can break in, and it can take anything, anything it wants, maybe even you.
The dash back to the house was the fastest you've ever did. Then you were armed up with your father to check it. Another day of fixing the fence, its a wonder how do you even have enough mesh.
After the fence, you began spiraling. The paranoia got greater. Your body was even more tense, wound tight, muscles wound up like a whip in mid air, waiting for the flick of the wrist to break the sound barrier and make a defeaning crack.
The snapping point wasnt even the fact that your father requested that you find a husband soon, you were of age, a bit more, 22-23, or when months later he found out about your queer customs how you went to parlor houses. He was quiet, he shouldnt have been, if he disliked something he was loud. The silence he given you was menacing.
It was the night you were watching the fence, waiting, rifle in hand, the moon was shining, the stars were twinkling in the sky, and you sat there, waiting for whoever broke through the fence.
Months passed, no proof came from the person who broke the fence.
Months passed, and the herd slowly died and died, the hens didnt lay, the cattle didnt give milk. The Ranch was in shambles. Food was rationed, one of your brother passed away, he got sun-sickness ---his body couldnt keep anything food inside him, he threw it all up. Another one of your brothers was taken by the fence-man. He was watching the fence, then he is gone by the morning.
It all became hopeless.
Your mental health got worse and worse. You couldnt sleep, you could barely eat, but you knew you needed to. You were no longer living, you were surviving. You knew you were hanging on by threads when your veins got a bit darker--- your blood also got darker when you threw it all up in sickness.
The hallucinations were on their highs, when you started to cough up a black liquid, you knew the end was nearing. You knew the end was nearing when the least of your concerns was the Ranch.
The trip into town was supposed to be quick, grabbing a few things from the market, bringing it home, trading things that could be spared. It wasnt supposed to end with you in an alleyway, behind a saloon, fighting off a man with all you had.
You scratched, you kicked, you hit everywhere you could. You were an instinct-creature. Adrenaline shoothing through your veins.
Dont stop.
Stop and you're dead, and your body wont be spared of his hands, neither in life or death.
The static in your head became louder and louder, words started to form in the static. 'Bi....te.' over and over again.
Then your teeth found skin. Your teeth found flesh and blood. The way it flown into your mouth was something euphoric. The way blood rushed in your veins at the taste, at the texture. You should have been disgusted, but you werent. You didnt know what it was, but you wanted more.
The man couldnt even scream, he would draw attention, if he shot, he would have drawn attention from the inside of the Saloon. He was completely hopeless. He was a dead man.
Your teeth found skin again, your nails were scratching off and into his skin, so he couldnt shake you off. Your nails left bloody red trails, torn clothes, patches of blood on said clothes. Even if you were a bit starved, you were still strong, you had some fat on your flesh.
He knocked you off getting ready to run, then you jumped, hitting him from the side, teeth on his neck, ripping at his neck as your stuffed his own hat into his mouth so he stayed silent. Your teeth just bit, and bit and bit, until you bit through his artery, you quickly took the vein in your mouth, you knew how bad it could bleed.
The taste of iron felt like a balm to the static. Your head quieted down. Your shoulders sagged, your eyes softened. You felt like a babe, drinking from your mother's tit. Except it was a man's artery that you bit yourself. That you were suckling on, Its a wonder nobody smelled the blood yet or heard the fight. You stood up, nails bloody. Mouth bloodier than a Coyote after the kill.
You needed to be gone. Quickly. You searched his pockets. Gun, bullets, ---Where the fuck is a flask?--- finally you found his water flask as you started washing your mouth off, flushing the blood from your teeth. You looked at your reflection in the metal off the gun. Good enough, altough your lip is a bit split, doesnt matter.
You made your way back to the market, finally finding what you needed, bartering with the merchants.
It was almost sundown when you arrived back, the necessities with you. Your fathered helped with the storage, his face was sunk in, his hands were weak, he was old, and he wont survive the summer like this. Its only July and you lost two brothers, and almost the whole Ranch.
"Didn' ya encouter something funny in one of the alleys today?" He suddenly asked. "Not one thing, father. I may have taken long, but I ain't in the alleys" You reassured him, picking at your fingers praying that he doesnt know you killed someone ---how could he even know? You werent near the market when you killed the man---. "Good, a man was murdered in one o' the alleys". You stayed silent, feigning something akin to 'grief'
"Are ya' serious, wi' 'dis parlor house goin'?" He asked out of the blue, the first words he has ever said to you about the queer thing, ever since he found out.
"Yes, father, I neve' found men attractive" You reply, trying to make him understand that you would never get a husband.
"I remember when ya were a li'le girl-" He started, but a cough broke his sentence, he hid his coughs in his cloth handkerchief, when he pulled it away you saw the same black mucus you used to cough up. You chose to not tell it, he needn't need more stress with knowing you're ill as well. "And I brought you into town wi' me, Austin already wanted ya for his eldest son" He chuckles.
The conversation stretched long, as you and him sat on the porch, sipping sweet tea as the Sun slowly crawled under the horizon. He never remiescenced about the past. His end was nearing.
By the next week, he was six feet under, with his name on a cross under the Weepin Willow near to the Boom well, next to your two brothers.
Mother also started to get the symptoms, then she started digging, like she was digging a grave, if she dies the Ranch is in your hands.
The days started blurring together, your mother hired farm hands to help the Ranch, but other than that, the weeks were monotone.
Your youngest sister's death came out of nowhere. All you heard in the night was a gunshot. You rushed to her room, she held a pistol, ---where did she even get that from?---.
Something in your mind snapped that night. The static in your head grew louder as you carried her body to the Weeping Willow. You knelt next to her grave, the coughing came over you so suddenly it made your heart miss a beat. You coughed and coughed until you had nothing to cough up.
Then an idea.
They can keep living like this, this world is too cruel, they need somewhere safe, somewhere where I can always keep them with myself.
Your gums began to ache and words started to form through the static 'B..i..t..e'.
You snuck back into the house, taking out your dagger from your room. You didnt think your would find your mother still in the kitchen, crying. You expected the crying, and the grief, but she never let herself be vulnreable, even to you. You went over to hug her, the guilt of your choice already weighting heavy on you as you whisper into her ear. "Im sorry ma', I cant watch you be like this." Before she could react you swiftly sinked the knife into the back of her head as you held her head to your neck. Your other sister was in her room, you didnt want to scare her.
When you felt her go limp, you kissed her cheek one more time before carefully laying her down unbuttoning her shirt so you could make a swiftly cut across her chest, and getting her heart out. 'She always said the heart is the cage of the soul, the bigger the soul, the bigger the heart'.
You carefully took her body out under the Weeping Willow, crying as you do so. The decision already swelling into guilt, an aching guilt that made the static worse, that made your nerves go fuzzy. Before you buried her, you laid next to her, carefully eating at her heart, to absorb her soul. You were always her little girl, no matter how much Father spoiled you, you were always your Mother's shine in her eye. You slowly stood up climbing out of the grave as you buried her.
You did the same to your sister, she was so small, hurting her felt like you were hurting yourself, but it had to be done. They wont starve, they wont get heat sickness, the fence-man couldnt hurt them anymore.
You knelt by the Weeping Willow, carefully carving their names into the wooden crosses, carving their names with such care.
The Sun began coming up by the time you were done, your mouth and hands bloody as it dried onto you, unwashable.
You were inside the house when the sherrifs came. You had your father's pistol behind you as you did.
They were here to arrest you.
Somebody saw you get dragged into the alley by the man you killed, and they saw you leave the alley.
Why didnt they come earlier, who knows?
The fire you started in the barn began spiraling out of control. That got the attention of the sheriffs. Then he attacked you, missing a shot with his pistol as you did too. You quickly unarmed him as you punched his throat. At the sight of the fire more sherrifs, even a makeshift fire-team came. You breathed a thank you to yourself that you already saddled your horse.
The moment the fire spread to the house you took off, knowing you will get caught and put on death row if you wanted to watch it burn to the ground. For the first time ever, you're leaving the Ranch with no coming back. The adrenaline burns in your veins hotter than the flames consuming the Ranch.
A few sherrifs took after you, for your luck, you had the speediest horse in town. The sprint on your beloved steed was brutal, both for you and her. Shooting Coyotes from her back, and occasionally looking back at the burning Ranch while you still could.
Right as the Sun came up, you found an abandoned town, near a forest, and a bigger stream of water that you have followed. You tied your horse in the forest to a low hanging branch. Then you began digging, digging a covert fire, that doesnt have smoke.
Then you started digging out for a smaller shelter that you made out of fallen branches, moss, and leafed branches that you broke. Not like the Ranch, but thats all you had. When you finally got comfortable the night's actions got their chokehold on you. Pressure gathers and presses in your chest, your throat closes up, your muscles tense, and you just let it all out, crying as the Home-sickness, the memories, and everything over the past few months hit you like a train.
You ended up crying yourself to sleep.
The ground was moving when you woke up. No, not the ground you were tied onto your own horse with a cloth in your mouth. You started thrashing, trying to break free.
"Stop it, you'll fall down" Suprisingly, the outlaw is a woman, her voice rings deep and authoritive, hitting something deep inside you. "wha-who are ya'? where ya' takin' me?" You spit out the cloths from your mouth, frustrated and angry.
"Thank me for saving ya'. Sheriffs were hot on ya tail. He'll be pleased with ya work" She doesnt say more, just continuing to lead my horse and me on top of it with her horse. She isnt tall but isnt short either and bulky. Her horse is the biggest horse I have ever seen in my life. its a gorgeous raven black, like her hair, which reaches down to her shoulderblades. Her hair is shaggy and poorly cut, but you find a charm and in that.
You scold yourself, realizing if she is taking you to someone who'll be pleased with your work, she has done worse things that you.
She finally commands her horse stop infront of a cabin, and she finally lets you get off of your horse. As you stretch you knees, hips back and ankles crack in a satisfying way.
Over the months you grew closer to her in that Cabin, occasionally a few more of her and now your Co-workers turned up for a few days then left.
Your feelings quickly bloomed, it made itself home in your chest. By the 5th month mark you were hopelessly in love with Kate. There wasnt a moment where you didnt think about her. That saved her and you multiple times.
Like right now. The shootout was brutal, the sherrifs still losing, they have more casulties, but more bullets. You run towards where Kate is supposed to be, finding her with a bullet in her shoulder, and her side bleeding. "Fuckin' 'ell" You curse as you rip your shirt, wrapping it around her waist tightly. You pick her up onto your shoulder, whistling for your horses as you sit her up onto your horse, getting in behind her quickly tying your horses to eachother.
The sprint on your horses was faster than ever. "Stay with me Kate. Keep ya eyes open for, talk to me, fiddle with my arm, just do something, sweet'eart." You encourage her to talk one hand on her waist, pressing down onto the bleeding spot. "You'll make it, luv, just stay with me, a'right?" You were talking to her as much as you could, calling her petnames, to get a reaction, to get her to speak, even a 'Dont call me that' would be perfect.
You kick open the Cabin door laying her down onto the couch as you run to grab the medkit and some booze. your take her shirt and vest off pouring booze onto a cloth and pressing it down to the shot on her shoulder and the graze on her side. You first get to stitching her side in caressing her ribs as you do so, kissing at her rib each stitch. "Doin' amazin' luv" You whisper to her, keeping her focused on you as you start to dig out the bullet from her shoulder. For her luck it didnt break. She whines as the bullet is out, words not even coming through her vocal cords. "Come on, luv, a bit more" You reassure as you stitch her shoulder, wrapping it up in gauze and bandages as you did with her side.
"I love you" She tells you, looking at you from her lashes, her eyes almost closing, her breathing heavy. "I love you too Kate" You reply instantly, kneeling down next to her as you carefully take her face in your hands, kissing her. You let her fall asleep as you stay next to her, her wrist in your hand, so you can feel her pulse, your head leaned to her side, in a way you can feel her breathing, and you soon fall asleep too, knowing her state is stable.
When you awaken, you find her looking down at you with her Icy blue eyes through her lashes, smiling slightly.
