Heyo everyone. You can call me Terra. To get the important stuff outta the way: Pronouns she/they/It, trans-girl-adjacent-thing of at least 28 years of age (who knows when I'll update this).
Funky little bisexual who's into everyone. If you ever need to get showered with love, I'd be happy to! I'm also poly with an amazing partner right now and like several other amazing cuties that I flirt with.
I like your standard array of nerdy stuff. Games, bit of anime, y'know that stuff. Need to get into more TTRPGs besides 5e. On that note I've been writing one myself and if you ask me about it I'll love you forever.
Ok you still here? Alright listen if you wanna see some weird shit you can go over to @transientzeal sideblog to see me talk about some uhh... interesting kinks.
I want to write more. I should post some... probabaly under #terra-types
I reblog a lot of random stuff so I hope that's ok. I use likes as bookmarks too so yknow.
He sat there so innocently; peaceful and unaware, slumped against that one tree, on top of that one hill.
I knew the tree and I knew the hill. I knew every blade of grass. I saw it every time I closed my eyes, burned into the back of my eyelids. He made this place. It was always his. It was always mine. It would never be his again.
It felt strange seeing the hill from this angle, approaching it like some kind of invader. He stood slowly, wearily, steading himself on the great tree.
"You can't do this." He tried saying it like a command, like a fact. It came out as a plea.
"I can't not." I spoke with his voice, as I had none of my own.
My blade was in my hand. My blade was at his neck. This place was mine, I didn't need to move. His neck was rough iron, and my blade sparked as I tried to force it through. He grabbed my wrist and pulled it aside, my blade forced loose from my grip, my strength torn from my soul. His other hand reached my neck and we tumbled to the ground with him atop me. His feeble weight on me was enough to keep me down, as I was not whole yet. He wrapped both hands around a neck that didn't yet exist, and I gasped for air that never was. My eyes teared up, my ears started to ring.
I thought, for a moment, perhaps he really was beautiful. Maybe this was the way of things. His eyes, green and brown just like mine. His hair, short but the same dark shade as mine. His skin was the same colour as mine but it had no softness. It was rough and metallic. This poor boy, cursed to never know the softness of his own flesh.
I drapped my hands over him, almost sensually. A simple gesture, but it had him collapse into me, pressing his body against mine. Skin against skin, heat against heat. Rough metal against smooth, squishing fat. He needed the softness of my flesh. I needed everything from him.
I sank my fangs into his neck. They pierced the metal effortlessly and warm red blood gushed from the wound into my mouth, dripping down my chin. I needed no blade, my body would be my weapon. He squirmed and spasmed in my arms, trying to tear himself away from my warm, bloody mouth. Tears streamed down his face, the taste of salt mixing with iron.
I held him tight, digging claws into his back, leaving crimson streaks. I mumbled into the gore of his neck "We have to. We have to. We have to. We have to. I have to. I have to." I was crying again.
He bled out, crying softly. "I know, I know, I know, I know…" I sucked blood through my teeth as he went limp on top of me. I stood. I looked at his body, so pale and thoroughly drained. I considered ravaging him. Tearing him to shreds and feasting- gorging on what was left. Becoming whole.
But he didn't deserve that. He was so stupid and young. Nothing truly dies here. I took my blade once more, a tool now, not a weapon. I took his body, held it to the tree, and drove my blade through his heart, pinning him there. Eternally slowly the sap from the tree trickled down the blade into his dead heart, turning it into blood. It trickled further down to the hilt of the blade, dripping down to my open maw as I lay in the shade of the tree. I wasn't whole yet, but I had spent my life unfinished; I could wait. Besides: at least my skin was soft.
