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dreaming-medium · 11 months

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Animals Without Direction

Chapter One - Thrice The Amount

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“No.” Your voice was stern, your eyes didn’t even look up from the plate in front of you. A hefty helping of roasted potatoes being pushed around by the metal fork in your hand.

“I am offering you a hefty sum of gold.” the man’s voice pleaded with you.

He was leaning over the table in an attempt to keep the volume of the conversation between the two of you down.

The tavern was lively, but not as lively as it could be. A bard continued to play his lute across the room in front of a massive hearth. The fire roared and spread heat through the room, warding off the chill of the late autumn air. Several patrons were sitting at the bar and various tables, either lost in conversations or the food in front of them.

Your small table was tucked in the corner, away from the bustle of the normal crowd. It’s not that you preferred the quiet, no, there were nights where you would be leading the drinking songs. But tonight, you just wanted to eat in peace.

An hour before you arrived at the tavern, you had just finished a job that had promised more gold than it delivered.

The life of a mercenary was not as glorious as your child self thought it was. It wasn’t slaying dragons and protecting royalty from assassins; quite the opposite, it was just another way to say ‘glorified messenger’. Bringing packages from one hold in the land to another, staying awake through the night to discover why a farmer’s crops were disappearing.

It was usually a beggar.

Poor sods were usually so hungry that you would turn a blind eye, find a wolf, kill it, and bring it to the farmer, claiming it to be the reason for the missing crops. This way the beggar wouldn’t have their thumbs cut off for stealing.

Not that you were any better than a beggar at this point. Money was tight. The gold you had in your pouch was enough to pay for your dinner and one more pint of ale.

The only difference between you and the homeless on the cobblestone street was the sword on your hip.

“I am well aware of the amount you offer, but you must think me mad to go anywhere near Miroh.”

Miroh . Fellow mercenaries have left for jobs– simple ones– and have not returned.

And yet, this man in front of you has the gall to not only request that you go near the Hold’s borders, but to enter their walls.

A stiff silence sits between the two of you. You bring your fork down and stab a potato, plopping it in your mouth and looking at the man for the first time since he sat across from you.

Greasy, black hair sat on his head, hanging in front of his eyes. The man was wearing a noble's robe; but if you looked closer, you could see how worn the fabric was. Burn holes littered the sleeves and the hem near the ground was absolutely filthy.

He looked to be about middle aged.

“Thrice the amount, then.”

You paused.

Swallowing your mouthful of food, you placed your fork back on the table. Tonguing your cheek and shifting on your seat.

Individually, you cracked each knuckle on both hands, your mind reeling.

“Explain the job to me once more.”

The man let out a sigh of relief, you quickly held your hand up before he began.

“I am not yet agreeing, I want to hear more details prior to anything.”

He nodded, tensing up once more.

“I require your protection as I finalize a trading contract between my company and Miroh. We specialize in the exchange of foreign goods across the water.”

“We would be meeting with the Jarl directly?”

“Nay, he does not deal with petty things like trading contracts,” the man scoffs and sits back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest. “We would be meeting with someone in his court, Han Jisung. I have been discussing this deal with him via letters for months.”

“If you are only meeting on a predetermined agreement, why do you push for protection?” You ask, picking up your pint of honeyed ale, taking a long sip.

The man’s eyes looked to the side, setting off alarm bells in your mind. He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth.

“If I am to protect you, I will need to know all the details.”

He shifted on his chair, clearly uncomfortable, clearly hiding something. His tongue poked from his lips to wet them nervously.

“In the past, I may have…” he hesitated, “I may have skimmed from the top of their goods.”

One of your eyebrows raised, mug still in front of your face.

“But that was many years ago. Han Jisung spoke of mending these ties in his letters.” he explains, looking back to your eyes. “Our company is the best in the land. High quality goods for a fair price, they must have realized that in our absence. Miroh simply wishes to use our services once more.”

You place your now empty mug onto the table, looking down at the old wood.

There is no way this is going to go smoothly. Every sense of danger was ringing in your mind to reject this deal.

With the reputation Miroh has, they let a merchant skim their goods and are crawling back ?

Patrons of the tavern begin to sing, surrounding the bard. Your eyes shifted up to take in the happy sight, smiles on all of their faces, happy flushes on their skin from the alcohol buzzing through their veins.

The lute’s strings sounded beautiful to your ears. Life here is alright, you are making it work.

But the almost empty gold pouch at your hip seemed heavier than when it had gold inside it.

“Five times my normal amount.” You meet eyes with the man. His jaw clenched for a moment, considering your offer. He doesn’t seem pleased in the least bit.

But it seems he has no choice.

An entire verse of the bard’s song passed before he reached across the table, extending his hand.

You clasp hands with him.

“At first light we leave for Miroh.”

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Gautier.

You learn his name three days into your journey; just as you are being led through the never ending hallways of Miroh’s keep. The stone walls seem… warmer than you expected of the Hold.

Even when you first crossed the border, it wasn’t fires and crying children like you had heard whispers of.

It seemed… better than where you had come from.

Where are all the miserable folk and wounded soldiers? Where are the bandits that supposedly run rampant in these parts?

When you are shown into a room, there are two men already waiting inside. One was much stockier than the other, his arm muscles on display due to the open nature of his heavy armor. Beautifully crafted gauntlets covered his forearms. A large battle axe strapped to his back, a neutral expression on his face.

The other man sat behind a desk, a sneaky looking smile already displayed across his round cheeks. He wore true noble robes made of various silks and expensive threads.

His clothing made Gautier’s look like no more than a potato sack with arm and leg holes.

Both of their eyes flicker to you and Gautier as you cross the threshold. The larger man, clearly his protection, surveys you closely.

He has no doubt clocked every single weapon strapped to your body.

Perhaps save for the one silver dagger you keep tucked inside your boot.

You mirror his movements, scanning his entire body up and down. One battle axe and three throwing knives on his belt. When your eyes meet him again, there’s an imperceptible twitch to the corner of his mouth.

“Guatier!” the smaller man exclaims, standing from his position behind the desk.

“Jisung, it has been a long while, my friend.” Guatier’s entire demeanor changes. This fake mask slides over his face and he becomes a different person. It takes every fiber of your being not to roll your eyes.

Guatier walks up to Jisung and they shake hands over the desk. You remain by the door, arms crossed over your chest.

“I see you have a new guard, Guatier.” Jisung motions over to you as he sits back down. Guatier does not even look back at you before waving him off.

“Do not mind her, she is only hired muscle.”

“Still, you know we cannot have outside ears hearing of our deals.” Jisung leans forward, his voice lowering a bit.

Your eyebrow quirks, you finally break eye contact with Jisung’s body guard to look over at Guatier’s back. He doesn’t even turn to look at you.

A scoff comes out of his mouth. “She will not understand any of what we speak of. Her simple mind knows only battle, it is all she is good for. No complex thoughts to be found in that head.”

Typically, you choose to keep a stoic face no matter what, especially on the job. But, in this moment, you cannot control the anger that flicks across your features.

Oh, the slimy bastard…

Jisung’s eyes look back at you again, his brows furrowed for a split second. He watches your emotions change and the corner of his lips twitch into a half smile.

“Still,” he starts, his gaze stays on you for another moment before he looks back at Gautier, his look darkens for a moment. “Even fools can repeat words.”

Jisung meets your eyes once more. They linger, almost as if he’s looking right through your soul. His expression softens when he lays his eyes on you.

“Changbin,” Jisung says and the guard doesn’t even flinch, but his eyes shift down to the other man. “Please bring the ‘hired muscle’ out to another room so we may conduct our business.”

The guard, Changbin, nods once and walks towards you quickly. His heavy boots thud on the wooden floor with every step.

You look back at Guatier, who only now has decided to turn around in his chair to look at you. Horror and anxiety flashes across his face; but you cannot find it within yourself to feel any pity.

A strong hand grips your upper arm and you’re forcefully led out of the office.

“Now, why don’t we begin by discussing your pre-” the door closes before you can hear the rest of Jisung’s sentence to your ‘boss’.

Changbin’s grip on your arm doesn’t loosen as he leads you down the hall. The grip is borderline painful through the fabric.

Deciding not to say anything about it, you just clench your jaw and let him drag you further and further away from the man you were supposed to be protecting.

Would it be the worst thing in the world if Guatier was killed, though?

Your mind pauses, weighing the options.

No, no it wouldn’t be.

Because he had given you half of the payment up front before you left for the journey.

Still, your honor was on the line for this.

It wasn’t until you rounded two more corners into a more open common area that Changbin’s grip loosened on your arm. You shook off his hold and glanced at his stern face one more before walking away from him.

Four other guards stood on either side of two separate door ways. All looking bored.

“Do not venture.” he grumbles, it was the first time you heard his voice.

“Interesting command given that you led me from my employer.”

Your eyes scan the room around you, it seems to be a library of sorts. Shelves line each wall with books and various items littered along them.

“You work for his company?”

“Nay,” you scoff, “I do not wish to work for that slime. I am only a mercenary, Guatier hired my sword to get him here safely and insure he leaves with his head.”

Changbin only grunts in acknowledgment as you walk over to one of the shelves. Gently, you reach up and spin a glass bottle to turn the label, allowing yourself to see behind you through the reflection.

In the distorted glass, you can see Changbin’s eyes watching you carefully, both hands staying at his side. He’s studying your movements very carefully.

You look away from the reflection, tilting your head to scan over the various titles of books on the shelf.

“Hm,” you hum, fingering at one of the books, “ Spider With Gold , I have not seen this book in many years…” you whisper wistfully.

There’s a shift behind you.

“You are able to read?”

You turn around to look at Changbin, who, for the first time, seems almost bashful. His hands twitched as his sides and he is only able to hold your eye contact for a moment before looking off to the side.

“Aye, scholars should not be the only ones able to read and document history.” you turn back to the bookshelf. “Do you not know how?”

Looking up in the reflection of the bottle, you see Changbin shift his weight from one boot to the other, his eyes boring holes into your back.

“Nay.” he says firmly, “Never learned how.”

“Shame.” you utter softly.

A long, stiff silence settles in the room.

You learned to read at a very young age, your mother made sure to teach you the letters as soon as your brain was able to retain it.

‘The more you read, the more you will know. And the more you know will ensure that no one will outsmart you, my dear.’

Books took up most of the spare space you had in your traveling pack. Every once in a while, when you would get an interesting quest that went into bandit nests, you were able to find one or two new ones to add to your never ending collection.

If you’re being truthful with yourself, it broke your heart that Changbin could not read, he could not enjoy the simple pleasure that reading could bring. Nor could he pick up on sword tricks written down through the centuries.

Just when it feels like the room could not get any quieter, a shrill scream bellows through the stone halls.

Your head snaps up to look in the reflection of the bottle just as a guard raises his sword behind you, intending to strike.

“Wait!”

Everything in your body suddenly comes alive at the impending danger. Your weight shifts and you leap out of the way.

A loud crash is heard as the guard’s sword slices through the wooden shelves.

“Of course.” you mutter, quickly regaining your balance.

Another soldier comes from your right, swinging his sword in an upwards strike, you dodge by spinning to the left. At the same time, your hand quickly unsheathes your sword.

Mid-spin, instincts take over and you raise your sword to clash with another guard’s. Both of your swords swing around in an arc to free them. Instead of completing the arc, you pull back and raise your boot to kick the guard right in the gut.

He lurches forward in pain and you, never missing an opportunity, bring your sword down and slice his head from his neck immediately.

One down.

The first guard seems to have recovered, but only for a moment. He eyes watch as his friend is decapitated; his face drains of all color and eyes snap up to yours.

A wicked smile crosses your face as you take advantage of his moment of weakness. Your sword plunges right through his gut, his mouth immediately coughing up a sick amount of blood.

Quickly, you pull your sword back. There’s a small sense of danger ringing in the back of your mind, so you jump away from where you were standing right before a sword splits the air.

Changbin, flanked by the two remaining guards, is staring at you with a curious look in his eyes. Just by studying his face, you can practically see his mind racing with numerous thoughts.

Why does he look so torn?

His battle ax is clasped firmly in his large hands, knees bent in a perfect battle stance.

With your feet firmly planted on the floor, you take a brief moment to size the three of them up. The guard to Changbin’s right leaps at you first, his sword swinging wildly in short, choppy arcs. Untrained technique, a definite beginner.

You almost feel bad for a split second, poor thing probably never expected this.

Nevertheless, it’s kill or be killed at this moment, and it’s only a matter of time before more guards start flooding into the room.

You raise your sword to block one of the strikes. The sound of metal hitting metal is ear piercing. Out of the corner of your eye, you see the last guard. reaching back for a powerful strike.

Thinking quickly, you grab the younger guard's arm, yanking him towards you and into the trajectory path of the second guard’s sword, stepping out of danger.

The second guard slices into his comrade by accident, both of them letting out shrill screams.

Before the second guard could recover from his accidental killing, you swing your sword in a massive arc and instantly kill him.

Both bodies drop to the ground in a heap.

Without giving yourself time to breathe, you turn around sharply to look at Changbin, who hasn’t moved a single muscle in the last minute. He stood there, wide-eyed, watching as you massacred his fellow soldiers and did absolutely nothing about it.

The two of you make eye contact for a long moment.

Your chest heaving with heavy pants from the exertion, hand tightening around the handle of your sword.

There is only a split second to think about your next move. Maybe even less.

Fear and adrenaline are coursing through your veins.

Why isn’t he attacking you? Why is he just standing there?

Your mouth felt like someone had stuffed cotton into it, sweat dripped down your back.

Changbin’s foot shifted on the floor and you quickly made your decision.

You turned around and ran .

----------------------------------------------

“ Hey! ” you heard Changbin scream behind you as you rounded the corner out of the room.

Which way did you come from? Which way was the way out? Once you get out of the keep, you should be fine.

Your light leather boots made soft thuds on the floor as you sprinted through the stone maze. Sheathing your sword in the process, your eyes wildly scan around for anything familiar.

Changbin’s voice could be heard every few seconds as he chased you through the keep.

To The Void with Guatier, you needed to get out of here. You knew you shouldn’t have taken this job. You just knew it.

When you round one corner, you smack directly into someone, but your momentum knocks them over, your steady balance keeping you on your feet.

The guard stumbles to the ground with a yelp, looking up at you with an extremely startled expression.

“Jeongin!” Changbin yells off in the distance, “Grab her!”

Jeongin snaps his head in the direction of Changbin’s voice, then back up at you. You don’t stick around to see his next move, your legs already carrying you far away from the guard on the ground.

It’s close, the entrance is close, you vaguely remember these hallways. It has to be close.

Once you’re out of the keep, you’ll run and never look back. You will never enter Miroh again, you won’t even come within fifty leagues of the Hold.

A solid hand gripped the back of your light armor, fingers pulling on the leather straps.

With a yelp, you’re yanked backwards and thrown onto the floor. Your head collides with the stone floor with a solid crack .

Pain blossoms from the impact and your vision blacks out for a split moment.

The adrenaline coursing through you keeps you from passing out, you quickly shake your head to clear the confusion.

Jeongin is standing over you with an almost apologetic look. He looks up behind you, then back down at you.

“Do not just stand there! Grab her, bind her hands!” Changbin commands, his voice closer than before.

Panic seizes your body and as Jeongin reaches for you, you kick your foot out on the ground right into his gut.

A loud, pained exhale is shoved from his lungs and he doubles forward, clutching the area you just kicked.

“If you would just-” Jeongin wheezes out in between pained breaths.

You don’t listen, you clamber to your feet. The back of your head throbbing worse and worse with each passing second.

Just as you’re about to take off down the hall again, a strong hand grabs your wrist and turns your arm, trapping it behind your back.

You’re roughly shoved against the cobblestone wall, one arm pinned behind you.

Hot, deep pants are felt on the back of your neck, you notice the hand holding your wrist is clammy.

“By The Six, woman,” Changbin breathes out, mouth close to the back of your neck.

You struggle for a moment, trying desperately to break his hold on you. Changbin only tightens his grip.

“Jeongin,” he practically growls, the guard grunts in response, still cradling his gut in pain. “Fetch me some rope, make it quick.”

Jeongin grunts again and limps off.

Changbin leans down closer, lips right next to your ear.

The heat coming from his body is insane, it feels like his entire front is pressed against your back to keep you against the wall.

Not that you have any fight left in your body, the adrenaline is wearing off and the pain from your skull is getting worse by the second. Each beat of your heart shoots a splinter of pain through your skull.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Changbin basically growls, his breath brushing against your ear.

“If you are to kill me, do it already. Why extend my torture?” You close your eyes, letting your face rest on the wall. When did your fingertips go numb?

“Kill you?” Changbin lets out a chuckle behind you. “And waste a sword arm like yours? Nay, I believe we may have better use for you.”

The world was fading fast, towards the end of his sentence, it sounded like his voice was three rooms away.

“Sir, I have the rope.” Jeongin’s voice was the last you heard before your body collapsed.

#stray kids fanfic #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #han jisung x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #jeongin x reader #fantasy au #skz fanfic #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #skz x yn #stray kids fics

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joelsbunny · 1 year

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Tunnel Vision ~ König x Fem!Reader

Final Destination ~ Part 1 of the Tunnel Vision series

Summary: You haven't run into the tall, silent König very often during your time in Taskforce 141, so when he starts showing up around every corner, you cant decide if it's for the better or worse.

(lots of fluff, no use of "y/n", slowburn, smut later on ;D)

Between my pumping heart and the heavy music in one earbud, I don’t notice when my solitary workout is stunted by company. It’s only when I glimpse a massive black outline in my periphery that my gait stutters and I nearly trip on the treadmill turning to look. I immediately regret this, however, when my eyes fall onto the large man, whose blue eyes are already peering back into mine. I recoil slightly at his sharp stare, wondering if my near-tumble contributed in any way. Feeling rather warmer than before, I turn my head back to continue jogging. Now, more sensitive to his presence, I hear him shift the weights on the bench press behind me. I try not to feel like I’m being examined with his stare directly behind me.

I’m just working out, why do I feel so nervous? I swallow again and turn up my music through the thin fabric of my leggings, a small attempt to drown out his closeness. However, while my feet keep moving forward, he begins occupying my thoughts too. He’s not in my unit, but I’ve seen him… it would be rather hard not to with his conspicuous mask and rather more conspicuous size. I knew him more closely, however, through the nasty whispers of him that penetrate my team. His call sign is König, at least I think so; Ghost had taken to calling him “Goliath”, which was the kinder of many other nicknames used. I couldn’t discern any obvious reason for the collective dislike amongst my colleagues - KorTac seemed to like him well enough - but he was so quiet, I could hardly discern much about him at all. The murmurs I’d heard that usually accompanied his name had more to do with his viciousness during missions. I found that hard to take seriously when we all had blood on our hands. It’s in the job description, after all.

I’m very suddenly ripped from my thoughts as I hear a loud metallic thud behind me, startling me. I throw my hand out, anxious to avoid tripping again, to grab the handlebar on the treadmill. This was a mistake. In my haste to steady myself, I had caught the wire of my earbuds between my outstretched fingers, tugging my phone from its’ shallow pocket and jerking the cord out in the process. I watch, mortified, as my phone falls to the moving track with a thunk, where it is promptly thrown behind me onto the ground. I silently curse all leggings and their sorry excuses for pockets. Still eager to stay on my feet, I place my feet on either side of the treadmill and turn it off, turning back to snatch my phone. I yelp a little as I nearly walk into König holding my phone, which is still playing the extremely loud music I had been listening to moments before. His unreadable eyes are still locked on mine, though at this distance, I have to crane my neck up to achieve the same result. When he speaks, I almost jump again.

“Yours,” He says, and I think I detect a trace of amusement in his quiet voice. “Rammstein, huh? I would not have pegged you for a metal fan,” The first thing that strikes me about him is that he has an accent, only noticeable in some words, but German in nature. There’s something formal about the way he speaks, though tempered by how quiet he is. It takes me a moment before I think to respond, or even take my phone from his outstretched hand. Springing back into the present, I feel my face grow hot and accept the phone, dwarfed in his gargantuan hand. I turn the music off quickly.

“Um… yeah. For working out,” I reply, looking away from his intense gaze. It seems to have something of a hypnotic nature that makes me forget how to form words.

“Do you speak German?” He asks, and I’m baffled for a moment before I remember the song playing as my phone fell.

“Oh, uh, barely.” I laugh a little as I picture how strange and nervous I must look from his perspective. “I just like the music.” he nods a little and I notice that his mask, which I had taken to be a bag of some sort, is actually a sewn-up black t-shirt with ripped eye-holes. “I- sorry about the… I was worried my phone might hit you. Some… Final Destination type of thing…” I trail off, feeling oddly nervous under his unwavering stare. When I reluctantly meet his steady blue eyes again, he looks puzzled.

“Final Destination?” He prompts, shaking his head a little.

“Oh,” I reply blankly and glance back into his eyes, which seem slightly softer now that I’m looking closely. “Um. Stupid movie franchise. Sorry.” He shakes his large head again.

“Don’t apologize,” he says simply. I expect him to continue, but he merely gazes down at me. I swallow hard.

“Well. Thanks for picking up my phone,” I conclude weakly, wishing he would stop staring holes into my head. He nods, and I turn to leave. My first interaction with “Goliath” could not have gone more poorly. I feel his gaze follow me as I hurriedly remove myself from the gym, taking a deep breath when I close the door behind me. König had certainly earned his reputation. If that was his small talk, I couldn’t imagine being on the wrong side of him and a weapon.

I try not to continually kick myself the entire way back to my room with the painful memory of our awkward encounter lingering like a cloud over my head. I soothe myself with the knowledge that I will likely never talk to him again.

“Optics!” I turn swiftly at the sound of my callsign to find myself inches away from Soap’s bright face.

“Why do you always sneak up on me?” I scold, taking an instinctive step back. He isn’t much for personal space.

“Not my fault you don’t pay attention,” he grins, ignoring my huff of indignation. “So, listen, we were gonna head out to the pub tonight.” I nod.

“Yeah, sure,” I reply, anticipating the question. “You, me, Roach, Ghost?” I recite our usual party of four. He raises his eyebrows and holds a finger between us.

“Actually, we have company. Roach is bringing Horangi and Horangi’s bringing a friend,” He says, searching my face. He is clearly aware of my tendency to back out of gatherings and is trying to avoid scaring me off with too large of a group.

“KorTac? Really?” I ask in surprise. Ghost tends to steer clear of their team entirely. Soap shrugs indifferently.

“Roach says Horangi’s a really nice guy,” he expounds, still keeping a watchful eye on my face like I might turn and run at the thought of strangers. “Don’t bail. It’ll be fun.” he caves and pretends to plead on his knees. I try not to roll my eyes at the sight.

“Christ, I’m not that much of a recluse. I’ll come.” I say, a little exasperated at his idea of me.

“Good,” his grin returns. “Good. So, meet you at 8, then?” I blink slowly at him, his enthusiasm almost hurting my eyes.

“Yes, alright,” I say, waving him off, and depositing the sound-canceling headphones around my neck. He raises his hands in surrender, still smiling, and leaves the room. I still want to get in a few more rounds in the range, it’s surprisingly good therapy. This seems unlikely, however, when a mountainous figure pauses at the open doorway. Without needing to do so much as glance up, I busy myself to appear like I’m already on my way out. As I had anticipated, the large figure ducks to enter the room. As soon as König’s massive frame isn’t blocking the door, I slip out without a second glance. The thought of enduring the awkward silence which most certainly would have followed makes me shiver slightly. What are the chances - after rarely bumping into him during my time here - that I encounter him two days in a row? Yesterday was bad enough, I think to myself, that he likely won’t attempt to talk to me again. Back in my room, I breathe deeply again and try to forget my close call by rummaging through my closet. I throw a white tank top onto my bed - one that isn’t sweat-stained - and default to blue jeans. The slight distraction isn’t enough to erase my lingering embarrassment, so I count on the pub tonight to succeed instead.

read part two Here

#konig mw2 #konig call of duty #konig x reader #konig cod #cod konig #konig fanart #cod mw2 #cod mwii #cod x reader #mw2 #call of duty mw2 #fanfic #slowburn

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yootaesowlwrites · 5 months

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Don't - Kim Sunwoo

W/C: 7K

Note: Blank blogs will be blocked. I don’t trust y’all, so make sure you have your age in your bio/desc or something on your blog or a pfp. Minors DNI or get blocked!

Prompts: "Don't Cum Yet..."

Warnings: Smut, explicit language, pet/nicknames, nudism, nipple sucking, nipple playing, bruising, clit stimulation, oral (Female & Male receiving), cum swallowing, hair pulling, teasing, blowjob, biting, marking, unprotected sex (reader’s on the pill), riding, aftercare, cockwarming, talking about possible somnophilia.

Age Warning: I will not take responsibility because you wanted to read this, but if you’re under the age of 18+, DO NOT INTERACT OR READ. Do not take this as educational, this is fiction!

You and Sunwoo step back into your apartment after you had left the company where the staff and his group members had thrown a small get-together for his birthday, you remove your shoes and roll your shoulders before letting out a soft sigh, happy to be home and be surrounded by some quietness.

“I love that it’s your birthday, but I feel so tired now, Woo,” You say while turning to him, he removes his jacket and hangs it onto the coat hanger near the door before stepping closer to you.

“If you want, I can give you something that will wake you right up, Jagiya,” He says. You bite the inside of your cheeks, thinking his offer over. “Or, just lay back and let me have some dessert at least, one final dessert for my birthday,” You could feel heat rising to your cheeks as you thought about his head between your legs and your fingers pulling at his locks. “By that look on your face, you’re considering it hard.”

“Can you blame me?” You quickly say before taking hold of his hand. “It’s tempting, Woo, so tempting…” Your eyes slowly move down his chest before moving lower and pausing at his waist. “But… as tempting as it is, it’s your birthday,” You lift your gaze slightly. “I should make you feel like you’re in heaven,” You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows. “Or, to compromise, we could do both.”

“I…” He pauses as he thinks over what you have just said to him. “Like… at the same time, or do you mean one at a time?” You tug on his hand and begin leading him down the hallway towards the bedroom.

“Well, maybe for Christmas we can try the sixty-nine, see how it works for us, but for tonight, I want you to fully focus and feel what you’re going to experience,” You say as you get closer and closer to the bedroom. “Now the next question is, Woo… who’s going to lay back first?” You were suddenly spun right as you entered the bedroom and pushed up against the wall next to the door, you gasped and looked into his brown eyes which were much darker now, his cologne filled your lungs and his warmth immediately surrounded you.

“Well… it’s my birthday, I deserve dessert first,” He says before leaning in closer. “It’s only fair I had to wait the entire day for it,” You could feel his breath fan against your lips before they brushed against you, your hands immediately fell to the hem of his shirt and pulled the fabric upwards, your hands press against his skin as his tugs on your shirt, tugging it upwards. The kiss was sloppy, yet hot at the same time, your breathing was becoming louder as you tried to get enough air into your lungs, you broke the kiss and gasped for air as he tugged your shirt higher, you lifted your hands and let him pull it off you before you grab onto his shirt and also pull it upwards and off, tossing it aside.

“If I knew you were this needy, Woo…” You breathe out as you place your hands on his chest and slowly slide them down his body, feeling every bump underneath your touch from the soft abs on his stomach. “I would have asked if we could take the long way home,” Your hands find the belt around his waist, and you begin working on it, the sound of the metal clinging sends a shock through your body and straight to your pussy.

“Screw the long way home,” He mumbles as he leans closer to press his lips against your collarbone. “I’m relieved you didn’t know how needy I was,” His hands slide between your body and the wall and slowly move them upwards towards the clasp of your bra. You pull the belt through the loops before dropping it to the floor, just as he unclasps your bra. “Maybe any other night we could…” His nose brushes against your collarbone before you feel his lips at the top of your shoulder and his teeth grazing with a feathery touch against your skin as he takes the strap between his teeth and pulls it down your arm. “But tonight, I’m glad we’re home,” He moves his head to your other shoulder and does the same, the bra falls to the floor between you both and his mouth instantly moves towards your breasts.

“I have to admit,” You say as you slide your hand over the growing bulge in his jeans. “I’m kinda glad we didn’t take the long way, otherwise this, right here, wouldn’t be happening now,” You cup him through his jeans, causing him to inhale sharply. “Maybe it would have happened still, but a lot later,” His mouth moves lower and over your nipple, his hot breath fans over the sensitive skin causing your pussy to twitch. “Gosh, Sunwoo…” Your lids flutter as you feel his lips wrap around your nipple and gently suck on the bud, his hand cups your other breast, and he slowly slides his thumb over your nipple. “Hmm…” You feel his other hand slide over your waist, over the curves of your body as it goes lower and lower until his fingers push past the waistband of your pants, and he cups your mound and slowly moves his hand a little lower.

His fingers reach your folds and press down against your clothed folds before rubbing them with your panties, your hand tightens slightly against his jeans as you feel his fingers push a little harder against your pussy, pushing the fabric between your folds, you could feel his cock slowly growing as you rub your hand over his jeans. His fingers slide through your folds, pushing more of your panties between them as he slides them towards your entrance before sliding them back to your clit. “Fucking gosh…” You moan as he circles his fingers around your clit, using your panties to create a faint friction against the bundle of nerves, he slides his fingers back towards your slit and circles it with your panties before sliding his fingers back to your clit and doing the same.

He takes your nipple between his fingers and slowly rolls the bud between the pads of his fingers as wetness continues to pool between your folds with each rub and circle drawn through your panties, you could feel your panties becoming soaked with your juices, and you could hear a faint sound of your wetness sloshing each time his fingers went towards your entrance and back, spreading it over the fabric to create a bigger mess. He tugs on your nipple, and you feel your insides pulling into a knot with that tug as a high slowly begins building. “Sunwoo… Woo, oh… my…” His fingers pause at your clit and your back arches away from the wall as they finally touched the bundle of nerves, he releases your nipple and lifts his head to look at your face.

“You’re so fucking soaked…” He mumbles as he continues to rub your clit through your panties, the fabric causing your breathing to get louder and your heart rate to pick up slightly, your hand begins rubbing faster against his jeans as you try to match the movement of his fingers. “We need to get to the bed,” He pulls his hand away from your pussy, making you whine at the loss of contact and the loss of simulation, he grabs onto the waistband of your pants and tugs them down along with your panties.

“Oh, my fucking…” You gasp as you feel the fabric being ripped away from your throbbing clit, your knees almost buckling beneath you at the rough feeling, you take in a slow deep breath before stepping out of them once they pooled around your ankles, you move past Sunwoo and towards the bed, and he quickly turns to follow you closely, close enough that you could still feel his heat radiating onto you, once you reach the bed he spins you around and places his hands on your shoulders.

“Sit right here and spread those pretty legs for me,” He says. You feel your pussy twitch at his words before sitting down at the end of the bed and placing your hands behind you, leaning back to give him a full view of your fully naked body before slowly spreading your legs, the sound of your wetness squelches as your folds spread apart, and you watch as his eyes roll to the back of his head for a split second.

“Grab a pillow, Woo, you might be down there for a while,” You say and smirk up at him, confidence bursts inside you at the effect you had on the man in front of you, he takes his bottom lip between his teeth for a moment as his eyes move over your body, drinking up everything.

“You’re right, I gotta enjoy my dessert to the fullest,” He says and walks around the bed before grabbing one of the pillows and making his way back in front of you and drops the pillow to the floor, the cold gust of wind from him dropping the pillow blows against your hot wet pussy, and it causes your legs to twitch. He lowers down on his knees in front of you and moves himself closer to you, you lick your lips— feeling how swollen they are— his hair tickles the inside of your inner thighs as he gets closer.

“Sunwoo!” You gasp as he suddenly wraps his arms around your thighs and lifts your legs over his shoulders, his hands grip your inner thighs, and his fingers dig into your skin, surely you would find bruising there the following morning, you look down at him as he stares up at you, inching closer and closer to your pussy. “Sunwoo… fuck,” You mumble and move a hand to the top of his head and curl your fingers into his locks, his chin brushes against your mound before he lowers his head, dragging his chin over your folds before his nose brushes along your mound, he takes in a deep breath before letting out a sigh.

“Fuck, you smell so good,” He mumbles and presses his nose against your folds, a shiver goes through you as you feel him talking right against your pussy. “You’re going to taste just as good,” Without much warning he licks a stripe over your clit causing your back to arch at the sudden unexpected contact, your other hand grips onto the bedding and you curl the fabric between your fingers. “Oh, I was so right,” You feel his nose press against your mound before his tongue presses against your clit and slides it over the sensitive nub.

“Oh, fucking fuck, Sunwoo!” You gasp, your skin feels on fire with each slow lick against your clit, your legs begging you to shut around his head and push him further against your pussy, his breathing was getting louder as his nose was smashed up against your pussy, and it only enhanced the feeling going through your body, the room felt hot, and you could feel your skin starting to get sticky with sweat, your mind felt like it was bouncing from the feeling of his tongue circling and lapping over your clit. “Sunwoo, oh, my fucking…” You suck in your stomach as you feel the knot of tension slowly growing bigger, you press the heels of your feet against his back and curl your toes as the euphoric sensation goes through your body.

“Hmm-hmm, so good,” He mumbles against your pussy, you throw your head back as you gasp when you feel his lips wrap around the little nub, and he sucks on it while using the tip of his tongue to tease it.

“Su-Suuun-wooo,” You moan and shut your eyes as your jaw slacks, and you loudly breathe through your mouth, and you tug at his hair as you feel your body tensing up from the feeling. “Fucking… shit, shit, it’s so gooood,” He releases your clit, and you feel his nose brush over the sensitive nub before his mouth reaches your slit, he pulls back, and your muscles slowly relax, and you take in a few deep breaths. His eyes slowly move over your body, the light shines just right on you, making your skin light up as the faint droplets of sweat coat your skin and with your head thrown back and your chest pushing out, the sight is pure sin and yet heaven at the same time for him.

“Jagiya, does it feel good?” He asks as he slowly rubs his hands up and down your inner thighs, his fingers getting so close to your folds before they move away. “Am I making you feel good?” He turns his head and kisses the inside of your thigh, you could feel his nose and lips smearing your juices onto your skin as he kisses the spot over and over.

“Fuck, yes, yes you are, Sunwoo…” You mumble as you lower yourself down to your elbow. “Fuck… it feels so good…” You lift your head to look at him through lidded eyes, and he can see how dark they are. “I’m getting so close…” Your fingers twitch in his hair, and he could already tell how desperate you were to feel his mouth on you again.

“Then I should get my full dessert,” He says before he leaves one last kiss on your inner thigh and lowers his head between your legs again, his nose settles right beneath your throbbing clit, and you could feel his breathing hit your entrance.

“Fucking g- ooh, Sunwoo…” You gasp as you feel his tongue glide over your slit, lapping at your leaking juices, the warm feeling of his tongue between your folds was making your mind spin, and your grip on his hair tightens and your hips lift off the bed, pushing yourself more against his face. His hands grip your inner thighs, this time much closer to your pussy, and holds you up as he slides his tongue slides inside you and your elbow collapses beneath you, and you fully lay back on the bed. “SUNWOO!” You cry out as you feel an immense pleasure coursing through your body. “FUCK, SUNWOOOO!” You blink rapidly as you try to keep your eyes open, your vision becomes blurry as pleasure slowly consumes your entire body. “FUCK, FUCK!” Your muscles tense and you sucked your stomach in, your glute muscles tighten as you feel your high approaching you with rapid speed with how he managed to use his tongue inside you, and with how his hands gripped your inner thighs, it felt like he had managed to spread your pussy even more for him to gain better access.

“Hmm, hmm,” He moans into your pussy, feeling wetness growing around his tongue. “Hmfff, hhmmm,” The vibrations from his moans travel up your spine and cause the knot inside you to grow quickly.

“SUNWOO!” You cry out, feeling out of breath as you scream his name, your heart drummed loudly in your ears— and you were almost certain he could hear it as well, — the bedding sticks to your skin as sweat continues to build. “I’M GONNA!” Your back arches as you managed to push your pussy completely against his face, you feel his tongue slide in just the tiniest bit deeper inside you before your mind fell off the edge and straight into a pool of blissfulness. “SUUUNWWWOOO!” Your head turns from side to side as your body shakes with pleasure, and the knot inside you explodes as you come undone around his tongue, you’re practically riding his face with how much your body is shaking.

“SUNWOO!” Fireworks fly past your vision behind your closed lids, and you grip the sheets tightens, twisting, pulling and tugging on them. “FUCK!” Your shoulders press into the mattress as you lift your hips higher, your body felt like it was on fire as your high was slowly making its way through you, his licks begin slowing down as your body slows down and begins calming, and your muscles relax, and you lower your back onto the mattress, your grip on the bedding loosens until you completely release it and your hand in his hair falls away, your mind slowly comes down from the skies, and you’re left trying to catch your breath as he pulls away from your pussy, licking his lips loudly to clean them.

“You taste so good, jagiya,” He says. You open your eyes and lift your head to look at him, his nose, lips and chin are glistening with your juices, which makes you drop your head and take in a deep breath.

“Fucking hell, Woo…” You mumble. “So filthy of you…” He gives your thighs one final squeeze before he unwraps his arms from around them and lowers your legs, your feet dangling inches away from the floor, as you take a moment to gather your thoughts.

“But it’s a good filth also,” He says as he places his hands on top of your thighs and slowly slides them along your thighs before moving them over the creases of your hips, he stands from the floor and leans over you and moves his hands to the mattress to press against it and put all of his weight onto the bed instead. “Right?” You turn your head to look at him.

“Right… hmm,” You mumble as you can smell yourself on him, “A good kind,” You lift your head and press your nose against his. “And now, it’s your turn,” You reach up for his shoulders and grab onto them. “So sit down and lean back,” He tilts his head to press a quick peck to your lips before his warmth disappears, and your hands fall away from his shoulders, you quickly sit upright and grab onto the loops of his jeans before he can move away from the bed. “Wait, wait, just one second,” You undo the button and open the zipper before pulling his jeans down, the bugle that was being restricted by his jeans now created a tent in his underwear, he steps out from his jeans and kicks them aside while your fingers hook into the elastic of his underwear, and you tug on it, tugging him towards you and causing him to stumble a little forward.

“Whoa…” He breathes and places his hands on your shoulders to stop himself from toppling over, your lips press against the middle of his stomach, and you slowly kiss a trail down and over his belly button until you reach the fabric of his underwear and kiss towards his hip as you begin to pull his underwear down, making sure not to have it accidentally get caught on his hard cock, once they reach his thighs you begin to kiss your way down to his pubic bone. “Ohh, shit… Jagiya…” He watches as you kiss over the top of his thighs and over his pubic bone while pushing his underwear lower until they finally pool around his ankles.

“So hard for me,” You say and kiss over his thighs, your cheek brushing against the side of his cock, and you hear him inhaling sharply at the faint touch. “You should sit,” You move your head back and look up at him with a slight smirk on your lips before standing from the bed and motioning with your hands towards the bed as you take a step to the side. “You can have my spot,” Sunwoo sits down in the same spot you were just moments ago, and you watch him pause for a moment.

“It’s wet…” He states and looks up at you, you nod your head before positioning the pillow between his feet using your foot. “How much did you…?”

“Well… I was super wet, and it leaked onto the bed,” You say and lick your lips. “You don’t mind, do you?” Your tone sounds innocent, which causes his eyes to roll to the back of his head.

“Fuck, you’re such a damn tease, Jagiya,” He groans. You lower to your knees in front of him and place your hands on top of his knees.

“Like you’re complaining about it,” You say and slide your hands along his thighs while leaning your head closer, your lips make contact with the top of his knee, and you slowly kiss up his thigh, your hands reaching close to his cock, and you move one hand towards it and extend a finger. “You sounded a little sensitive earlier…” Your finger touches the side of his cock, and you slowly slide it along his length with a feathery touch.

“Fuuuckk,” He groans, your finger reaches the top of his cock, and you circle your finger around the tip, collecting his pre-cum onto it.

“Hmm, leaking also…” You say and slide your finger down his cock, leaving a trail of glistening pre-cum behind on it, before moving your head closer to his cock. “So hot of you,” You whisper while batting your eyes up at him. “Know what’s going to be hot also?”

“What?” He breathes out. You move your finger away from his cock and place it on his thigh and draw small circles on his skin, leaving a trail of his glistening juices behind.

“This,” You say before your lips wrap around the spot you had just drawn on, the taste of his salty pre-cum bursts onto your tongue as you slide it over the sticky liquid, cleaning it while sucking on the spot.

“Oh, fucking…” He groans and moves a hand to the back of your head, you were definitely going to leave a dark purple bruise on his skin. “Fuck, that’s it, mark me right up,” Your hand rubs over the outside of his thigh as you suck on his skin, your other hand was rubbing at the top of his thigh, feeling his skin becoming slippery underneath your touch. You lift your head away from the spot and admire the mark as it changes colour.

“I was right,” You say before dipping your head lower. “It was hot,” Your breath fans against the underside of his cock, and you hear him let out a whimper, which quickly intrigues your mind. “Did that feel good?” You purposely blow air against his cock again and watch his reaction closely.

“Yyy/nnn, jagiya, fuck…” He whines, and you feel his grip tighten against the back of your head, you slowly nod your head before turning it to the side and pressing a soft kiss to his thigh.

“I’ll get to it in a moment…” You mumble before you fully press your lips against his thigh, this time he could feel your teeth threatening to bite into his skin, and he had to force himself to sit still and not buck his hips, you were leaving another mark while testing the waters at the same time with what he was comfortable with.

“J-jagiya…” He mutters as he feels your teeth sink a little more into his skin, you pull back, causing silver strings of saliva to break off and fall onto your chin and on his thigh, you glance up at him before digging your fingers into his thighs. “FUCK!” He throws his head back, and you watch as his Adam’s apple bobs up and down as he breathes in and out rapidly, you glance down at your thighs and the marks he had left behind already appearing.

“Now we’re matching, baby!” You say and move your head towards the top of his thigh, moving your hand away and to the back of his leg, you hear him let out a breathy laugh as he lifts his head to look down at you.

“You’re right…” He says. “We’re matching with that, but I don’t remember leaving a hickey on your thigh,” His hair had fallen over his eyes and some strands were sticking to his forehead from the sweat. “You’re giving more than I did,” He watches as your lips part, and you move your head closer to his thigh. “Ja-jagi-iya…” Your mouth makes contact with his skin, and this time he can’t help but buck his hips upwards as your teeth sink into his skin. “FUCK, fuck, oh, my fucking…” His cock brushes against the side of your face, leaving behind a trail of his pre-cum on your cheek, the bed creaks at the sudden movement. “Fuck, you’re going to be the end of me,” He was breathing loudly, and his muscles were already tensing, you slowly pull away and lick your lips.

“Are you complaining?” You ask and move your hand to the base of his cock, you watch as he stops breathing for a moment as your fingers wrap around him.

“I would go happily, though,” He finally says once you have your hand wrapped around him. “I would meet my end with a smile, because fuck… you make me feel so good,” You smile and slowly slide your hand along his length. “I wouldn’t even realise I had died, because you make me feel like I’m in heaven already,” Before your hand reaches the tip of his cock, you slide it back towards the base.

“Oh, I’m flattered, Woo,” You say and lean closer, you lift your gaze to look up at him before softly blowing cool air against the tip of his cock that was coated with his pre-cum, his other hand grips the edge of the bed as he feels your cool breath blow right against it, cooling it off around his cock that felt like it was on fire, and the feeling of it was sending his mind into a spiral.

“Fuck… oh, fucking…” He groans. You slide your hand to the top of his cock, collecting the glistening liquid onto your hand before slowly spreading it over his length. “Dear, fucking… you, you’re so…” You blow down his length, causing a shiver to go through him as you cool off the hot juices that were being spread over him. “I…” The way the two different temperatures felt on his cock was edging him closer to a release, something he didn’t want to happen so soon, not when you had just barely started and hadn’t had him in your mouth yet. “Fuck… jagiya…” Your hand moves slowly along his length, and it feels like you were slowly trying to pull an orgasm out of him.

“Feels good, hmm?” Your tone was low as you asked, your eyes so dark with lust and mischief. You slide your hand to the top of his cock and pause your movement and lean closer, only the tip was peaking out from around your hand.

“Sh-shit, oh…” He moans as he can feel your breathing hit right against it. “Fuuucckkk,” His voice was shaky as your tongue pressed against the slit on his cock and slowly licked over it, the texture of your tongue against his sensitive cock was making it hard for him to control himself. “Sh-shit, o-oh, my fuc-fucking…” Your tongue disappears from the tip, and you slide your hand down his cock. “Shit…” Beads of sweat were slowly beginning to roll down his neck and his hair was almost completely wet and sticking to his face, you twist and turn your hand around his cock, causing a squelching sound to go through the room from how wet his cock already was of his pre-cum.

“Hear that, Sunwoo?” You ask before sliding the tip of your tongue around the tip of his cock, another shuddering breath leaves him, and you watch as he sucks in his stomach. “Fuck, it sounds so dirty,” You lower your head and press your tongue against the underside of his cock.

“Ja-jagiya…” He breathes, you flatten your tongue against his cock and slowly lick upwards, keeping your eyes on his face, his lids flutter and his mouth opens and closes as he gasps for air as your tongue reaches the top of his cock, and you wrap your lips around him. “FUCKING HELL!” He throws his head back at the sudden warmth that engulfed his cock. “Shit, shit, Y/n, ja-jagiya…” His grip on the back of your head tightens, and you feel him trying to push your head down on his cock. You let him and his cock slide deeper into your mouth, and you hallow your cheeks while turning and twisting your hand around the base of his cock. “Fucking… I, so… good,” You could hear the strain in his voice as he moaned from pleasure, you slowly took more of his length into your mouth, and he could feel your breathing hit his pubic bone as you did.

“That feels so fucking good, oh, shit…” His eyes rolled to the back of his head before his lids shut in pure bliss, it felt like he was so close to blowing and filling your mouth with his load. You pull back and only keep the tip in your mouth as your hand slides up and down, spreading your saliva and his pre-cum over his cock, he could feel his balls slowly starting to tighten and a faint throbbing feeling starting to form at the tip of his cock. “Fucking, I’m… I’m close, I’m go-going…” At his words, you pull back from his cock with a pop, which causes his entire to shake and a shiver to shoot up his spine. “SHIT!” His eyes fly open, and he lifts his head to look down at you. “Why’d you stoooppp?” He whines out, and fuck, did you love the sound of him whining for you.

“Don’t cum yet…” You say and slide your hand along his length before pulling it away once your hand reaches the top, strings of pre-cum break off from your hand, and it hits the top of his thighs, making him gasp at the sudden cold feeling hitting his thighs, you bring your hand to your mouth, and he watches you carefully as you slip your tongue past your lips and press it against the palm of your hand and slowly lick a stripe along your palm. “Hmm, so good, Woo…” You place that exact hand on his shoulder before pulling yourself upwards to straddle his lap, pressing your knees into the mattress, his cock press against your pussy, and you slowly roll your hips over his cock, making it slide between your folds which caused your juices to spill down his cock. “Not yet, I want to be inside you.”

“Fucking… so warm, fuck…” He whimpers as he moves his hand away from the back of your head and moves it to your hips, gripping onto them and holding onto you tightly, you move your hands between your bodies and wrap them around his cock before slowly sliding him between your folds, the squelching sound of your wetness reaches your ears, and you feel your insides doing a flip, the thought of his cock stretching you out was already affecting you. “I’ll fill you so good, jagiya, but put it in now, please,” You lift your hips slightly before moving him towards your entrance.

“Since it’s your birthday, I can’t have you wait too long,” You say before slowly sinking onto his cock, you release it and move your hand to his shoulder while slowly feeling his girth stretch your walls and fill you. “Fucking… ohhh, so good, hmm, Sunwoo… oh,” You moan and shut your eyes at the feeling of his length sliding into you, his thumbs press down hard against the creases of your hips as his breathing stops at the feeling of your walls squishing down around him, engulfing him with warmth. “Shit, ohh, uhh,” Once he was fully inside you, you press yourself against his body and take a moment to adjust to him as you were both breathing in deeply and loudly.

“Let me just… fuck, just move a little more onto the bed so you don’t slip,” He says, you feel the bedding slide underneath your knees as he scoots himself further onto the bed. “Okay… this is as far as I can scoot back,” You nod your head against his shoulder before slowly lifting your hips, his cock slides out of you halfway before you roll your hips forward, letting his cock slide back inside you. “Ohh, fuck, so good, so good, jagiya…” He mumbles into the crook of your neck, and one of his hands slides over your back and moves to the back of your neck. “Just like that…” You were slowly picking up speed until you found a rhythm that was just right for you both. The squelching sound of your juices fills the room and the scent of sex fills the air. “Fuck, ohh… my absolute fucking…” You feel his lips press against your neck as he softly kisses it.

“Sunwoo… oh fuck, you always, always… so good around me,” You mumble and lift your head away from his shoulder, he pulls his head back from your neck, and you look into each other's eyes, the sound of skin slapping against skin and the sound of the bed creaking bounces off the walls and the sound of your hard breathing and moans and his grunts and groans fills the room.

“Uhhmm,” He groans as he feels your walls squeezing around him, with the angle you were positioned on top of him, you could feel his pubic bone just barely brushing against your throbbing clit, your chest was sliding against his from all the sweat that’s collected onto your skin and his. “You feel so… good, perfect around me,” You could feel your insides slowly pulling together, and your toes curl at a hot tingling feeling slowly making its way up your legs. “Fuck, you just know… how…” His muscles begin to twitch and pull, he was a lot closer to his release than you were.

“Woo… fuck…” You mumble. You could feel his stomach muscles pulling as your bodies were pressed flush against one another, his thigh muscles were twitching beneath yours as he was getting closer and closer. “Gonna cum for me?” Your mind felt foggy as his cock slides in and out of you, hitting all the right spots inside you. “Gonna fill me up good?” Your words were causing his mind to spin, the way you were just talking to him so casually, yet your words were absolute filthy. “Gonna make it spill out of me?”

“Fuck, baby!” He suddenly says. “Fucking, your fucking words, shit,” You feel his hand on your hip grip you harder and try to help you move a little faster over his cock to get him to where he wanted to be so badly. “Fuck…” He also sounded so desperate. You press your hands down hard on his shoulders, forcing him to lay back on the mattress, his hands fall away from the back of your head, and he grips the bedding instead, his eyes open wide as you move your hands to his chest and lift your hips before lowering them down onto him, his cock sinking in just that little bit deeper. “FUCK!” Your walls squeeze around him, and he feels his mind falling completely blank. “Ja-jagiya…” A hot sensation goes through his cock. “FUCK!” His hips jerk upwards as the tightening feeling in his balls suddenly comes undone, and his eyes shut completely. “Ohh, FUCK, fuck yes, YES, fuck yes!” He chants as his load spills into you, filling your pussy, as you continue to roll your hips at a rapid pace to get him through his high.

“That’s it, Sunwoo, fill me, fucking fill me just like that,” You pant. “Fuck, it feels so good to feel your load inside me and spilling from me, fucking hell…” You could feel the tension inside you getting tighter and tighter. “Is it spilling onto your thighs?” You slide your hand down his chest and over his stomach, feeling his muscles spasm underneath them as he cums.

“Fuck, fuck, so gooooooddd, uhhmm, hmm,” He moans as he turns his head from side to side, you lift your hand away from his stomach and move it between your legs and press a finger against your clit. “AH, SHHIITT!” He could feel your walls pulsing around him as you rub your clit to push yourself towards a high, you throw your head back as you feel the tingling sensation going through your legs slowly getting closer and closer to your pussy.

“I'm gonna…” You breathe out as your eyes roll to the back of your head, your body begins shaking on top of him as you try to keep moving, but it is becoming harder and harder as you get closer to your high. “Su-Sunwoo…” Your lids shut as you begin rubbing your clit faster while moving your hips quicker. Sunwoo begins coming down from the high he was going through and opens his eyes, blinking several times to adjust to the light before moving his gaze onto you, your tits bounced as you tried to get yourself to your high, and he was quickly becoming sensitive to the feeling of your pussy squeezing and moving around him.

“Fuck, let me help…” He mutters before sliding his hand from your hip to your inner thigh, your back arches as you feel his thumb suddenly press down against your clit and roll it underneath the pad of his finger, you instantly move your hand away and press it against his hip.

“Fuuuckk, Sunwoo, Sunwoo, yes, I’m almost…” You moan as you scratch his chest, leaving red stripes behind on his beautiful tanned skin. “Fucking…” Stars suddenly explode behind your lids as he takes the throbbing nub between his fingers and rolls it. “SUNWOO!” The tension inside your body snaps and a flood of pleasure washes over you while your mind is thrown into the clouds. “OHH, OHH!” It felt like your body was floating with how light it felt as you were going through your high, your juices leaked from around his cock and splatter onto his thighs and your inner thighs as you continue to bounce on his cock to get yourself through your high, his fingers continue to play with your clit, easing you through everything. “OH MY FUCKING!” Your legs felt tied, and it felt like they were starting to burn as your movements slowed down. “Sunwoosunwoosunwoo,” You chant before coming to a complete stop on top of him, he pulls his hand away from your pussy and quickly pushes himself into a sitting position to pull your body against his.

“I got you, I got you,” He mumbles as he slowly lays back down, wrapping his arms around your body and you both lay there with his soft cock still buried inside you while trying to catch your breath as the afterglow slowly begins settling in. You felt even more tired now than you had when you had walked in, but you had admitted to yourself, that it was worth it, the tingling sensation between your legs was all worth the tiredness you felt, and you just wanted to sleep right now. “Jagiya… we need to go clean ourselves before you fall asleep,” His voice woke you from the slumber that you were slowly falling into.

“Hmm… in a minute,” You mumble before turning your head, wanting to ignore him and fall asleep on top of him.

“No, no, now, we need to do it now, otherwise you’re going to be asleep soon,” He says. You feel him sit upright, holding onto you tightly, which makes you groan before lifting your head and opening your eyes a tiny bit to look at him.

“Sunwoo… I’m not complaining about your cock being deep inside me right now, are you complaining about being deep inside me still?” You ask, wanting to get your point across that you really really didn’t want to get up right now to go and clean.

“Well, no… I just thought you would want to be clean before falling asleep,” He says. “But if this is the position you want to sleep in, I don’t mind at all,” You nod your head before closing your eyes and lowering your head onto his shoulder. “Just know… I’m gonna get hard inside you during the night.”

“Then… then you can take care of it, inside me, again,” You mumble. He lets out a groan before moving his hands down your ass and cupping it.

“Fuck, you’re being so damn dirty,” He mumbles before standing, your legs instantly tighten around his waist and your arms move to wrap around his neck and lock together behind his head.

“Are you taking us to the bathroom?” You ask, not wanting to lift your head to see.

“No, I’m just moving us onto the bed properly,” He says. “You just said I can have you during the middle of the night when I get hard…” You hear the sheets being tugged open behind you before you feel the bed touch beneath your knees again.

“Did you enjoy how your birthday ended, though?” You softly ask as he lays down and carefully moves you both onto your sides, careful not to accidentally let his cock slide out from you.

“Keep this leg on top of me…” He mumbles as he moves your other leg away from his side so he won’t lay on top of it. “I did, I love how it’s ending also…” His cock shifts slightly inside you, causing you to whimper and him to inhale sharply. “Wish I had a birthday every day if this is how it can end,” You tiredly hum as you find a comfortable position. “I’m so going to get hard… fuck,” Was the last thing you heard before you completely drifted off.

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eoieopda · 2 years

Note

hello! i have a song for the game. Thank you for doing this!

I really like Anywhere by Rita Ora and Namjoon.

thank youu x

oh this was such a cute song! 10/10

listen here

ft. boyf!joon, a whole-ass adventure across Europe in the span of 30 days, reader getting zooted after consuming the tiniest bit of an edible.

just take me anywhere / take me anywhere / anywhere away with you

Until now, every bit of your month-long trip across the European continent had gone according to plan.

Well, plan was generous.

Apart from identifying locations in each of your favorite books; purchasing all necessary travel tickets; and making hotel reservations, there had been no real plan. It was simply you and the best boy, taking in whatever sights you could. Good wine, even better cheese, and perfect company.

You’d left Korea on the first of November, landing in London and staying for two days. The turn-around was almost as quick as the Eurostar, projecting you onward over the rails to Paris. Most of those four days were spent nudging Namjoon along through the Louvre, wondering if he’d ever willingly leave. Begrudgingly, after several hours, he did — no assistance from security was necessary.

The first of your horrifying, turbulent, rickety, budget flights — in a tin can with wings — had delivered you to Barcelona. The second carried you to Milan, with your death grip on Namjoon’s hand lasting for the duration of your time in the air. After train rides from Milan to Rome, then Rome to Venice, a bus had carried you off to Salzburg.

When you’d found yourself in those living, Sound of Music hills, you didn’t even have to ask. Namjoon — without question or comment — joined you in spinning like a fool until you both dropped dizzy in the grass. Maybe it was the altitude, but you could’ve sworn the “I love you” he‘d murmured in that moment hit a little harder than usual.

A train to Vienna, a bus to Budapest, then — gulp — another panicked flight; this time to Kraków. Two days there, then — with a whine and several glasses of its homophone, downed quickly at the airport bar — a fourth flight to Prague. Shortly after, you’d boarded a train to Berlin.

By your fifth low-cost, high-anxiety flight, Namjoon had discovered an antidote. If you were at least as high as the plane itself, the creaking of that tiny, shaky hunk of metal was significantly less upsetting. It was fitting, after all, landing in Amsterdam while still floating off one (1) quarter of an edible.

God, what a light-weight.

Your incessant giggling had been overpowered by Namjoon’s, though he was stone-cold sober — just thoroughly amused. There, the two of you realized you’d made a mistake: the phallogical museum you were fascinated by was in Iceland, not the Netherlands.

On the subsequent train ride to Bruges, you’d vowed to hit the world-renowned dick museum on your next trip. Your current trip was now at its end, leaving you to scurry off to Brussels for a commercial flight back to Incheon.

Unfortunately, inclement weather had grabbed Belgium in a chokehold.

With your backs pressed against the wall, you and Namjoon sat weary on the floor near your gate. Your respective legs were sprawled out in front of you. Head resting on your shoulder, Namjoon spent a large portion of your wait in the liminal space between the dream and waking worlds.

If there had been any local hotels available for the night, he might’ve actually gotten some proper rest — in a bed, but likely still using you as a pillow. Instead, you were stuck where you sat: huddled together in the same terminal you’d been in for many, many hours.

Languidly, you traced mindless patterns into the denim fabric holding onto his quads for dear life. You sighed through a frown as you glanced down at him, “I’m sorry we can’t seem to get home, love.”

Too tired to move, Namjoon merely mumbled from where he’d nestled into your side, “Home is anywhere with you.”

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thetalesofno-one · 4 months

Text

Curse of Strahd, Act I: Pt. 2, Ch. IV -Where The Dead Sleep-

D&D Campaign Retelling Part 2/6 Chapter 4/5 ~7.2k words Content Warnings: Curse of Strahd typical content, Read at own risk

Summary At the burgomaster's mansion our unfortunate souls trapped within Barovia's mists meet Ireena Kolyana, a blessing that will soon join them on their journey for answers. But Ismark fails to tell his sister of her imminent departure and as they argue, another member of the family is met within a coffin. Read Previous Chapters also available on AO3

Ireena steps back from the door with one final look out past them, her eyes seeking other trouble in the waxing night and Emet finds himself glancing as well. Beside him, Roshan stares unblinking at the young woman with red hair. The old man’s smile falters, and even as Ismark ushers the group of strangers into their home, Roshan holds the woman in his eyes like a man seeing the ghost of someone lost within a stranger. The most precious of stolen wonders. Even when he is shuffled in by Evie and Evrrot nudging him ahead, Roshan seems unaware of all else around him. Only her.

Ireena stands off to the side with arms gently wrapped about herself. She absently rubs the soft wool of the well worn scarlet scarf wrapped around her neck like a gentle serpent. Her fingers worrying at the fabric, settling it this way and that as though never satisfied where it rests. Ireena offers each new guest a brief polite smile and a nod, her eyes flicking to Ismark between each expectantly, awaiting the answers to questions Emet can tell she expects her brother to offer sooner rather than later. Namely, who are these people?

Ismark catches her look only after the last guest enters and he swings the door shut.

“Oh, ah, this is my sister Ireena Kolyana. And Ireena, these are—”

Ismark stutters to a halt, a bit of flush spreading across his face.

“Forgive me, in all our conversation I never asked your names,” he smiles sheepishly.

Roshan snaps out of his strange trance, but his sad eyes do not loosen their hold on Ireena, “I am Roshan. It is of great pleasure to meet you, Ireena.”

Her polite and practiced smile is a little hesitant under his intense stare, but she offers it all the same as she likely has been taught to do so to every guest that has been welcomed within these halls. And once rich halls they have been.

Emet studies the foyer as the others offer their names—first names only, of course—and polite hellos. The manor holds the decadent finery of a middle tier barony, but the metal is tarnished, the wood scuffed and wanting for polish, the tapestry faded and thread worn, the furniture in need of a seamstress’ fine touch. The illusion of grandeur long since having fallen, a lord who still receives invitation to galas, but only out of pity for who they once were. A family clinging to the decadence of a memory that now eludes them. Like the Blood on the Vine tavern, the manor holds the wear of a place lived in, not a callus and sterile palace of perfection that is more a museum to wealth than a home. Wealth lost to time and decay.

Ireena’s burnt honey eyes catch Emet’s gaze wandering about her home with a sense of anticipation and he realizes he is all that is left in these introductions.

“Emet, the pleasure of your company is mine.”

He dips his head in a half bow, hair spilling past his shoulders and sharp elven ears. Her eyes linger on them and follow him back up to full height with curiosity written across her expression, but she holds herself back before she can voice whatever question holds her captive.

Ismark quickly shuffles to a set of closed double doors with little scratch marks near their base as if a cat or small dog once pawed for entry in its past. There’s a hurriedness to him as though trying to make up for his previous lapse in introductions.

“Come, we can sit and—”

Ireena’s eyes widen even before the doors open, her hand flashing out in silent command. But it is too late. The doors swing inward to reveal a dark sitting room with a fireplace long gone cold and still, every curtain drawn tight as the grave. Fitting, as an open coffin sits atop the low coffee table.

Evrrot grabs Roshan’ shoulder in the split second it takes for Ireena to reach the doors the charmer is already pointing at the casket, its upper half hinged open with the silhouette of a body just beyond the bar of light stretching across the floors from the open doors. He gives the holy man a look as if to say, That’s a body. That’s a fucking body right there. You’re seeing this right?

Ireena grabs the doors from her brother’s hands and slams them shut behind her back. She leans against them protectively, face flushed half as bright as her hair. Ismark gives his sister an apologetic look and she burns him with a silent glare, torn between embarrassment and frustration. He’d clearly known, but if the darkened circled under his eyes speak of anything, it is a message of forgetfulness born of endless restlessness. Not carelessness.

“Sorry,” Ireena breathes hastily, “Our father…we haven’t had a moment to lay him to rest. We’ve been preoccupied.”

She touches her neck as she says the last word, adjusting the scarlet scarf once more with a gentle tug higher. Her gaze softens toward Ismark, all forgiven in an instant. He kisses the top of her head.

“All is well.” Emet can almost feel the ache in Roshan’s voice as the holy man watches the two siblings a moment longer. Something heavy and dark sits behind his eyes before they shutter shut in an instant, closing as sharply as the doors and the warm smile returns, “Do you have any powdered silver?”

“Powdered silver?” Ireena repeats.

“If you do not mind. I can perform a funeral rite so your father may rest undisturbed.”

“Undis—ah. I’m afraid we have nothing so fine, though I am grateful for the offer. Truly.” She straightens, tapping the door behind her lightly as though afraid they will open of their own accord,” But you are our guests. Please, is there anything I might get you? Drink or food perhaps. Our supplies are limited I’m afraid, but we have wine and I can make a stew for dinner if you are staying?”

“I wouldn’t say no to some food,” Evrrot pipes up, his belly still full—Emet would hope—with his very recent late lunch.

All but Ireena give him a questioning glance.

“A man’s gotta eat,” he shrugs. An alluring smiles curls over his devilish fangs,”And anything crafted by your lovely hands would be most welcome.”

Evie looks like she wants to punch him. Emet wouldn’t mind the distraction.

“Of course, I’ll start to prepare something.”

Ismark stops his sister with a light touch before she can go, a troubled expression having taken him over before the offering for food and having deafened him to Evrrot’s comment. His voice holds a weight in his throat as though he does not wish to speak what he must say, but he steels himself.

“There is something we must discuss first, Ireena. This group will accompany you to Vallaki in the morning. They have already agreed to escort you on their way to their own business. You will be safer there—”

A tight smile cuts across Ireena’s soft features, silencing her brother.

“Would you all excuse me and my brother?” Ireena asks sweetly, though her tone poorly hides the sharp edge within it. She holds Ismark beneath her stern gaze. “There’s something we need to discuss. Privately.”

Ismark’s shoulders fall and Ireena takes his hand, dragging him across the foyer to a set of doors opposite the coffin filled sitting room. The door closes behind them with a sharp snap.

It takes all of five seconds for Evrrot’s tenuous hold on self control to completely disintegrate without supervision. His seductive charming smile drops like a curtain over a stage and he opens the sitting room doors, strolling right up to the corpse filled coffin as though it is a piece of art to be admired. Evie and Roshan share a you first look before they both follow. Emet shakes his head and remains in the foyer. He crosses his arms and squeezes the muscle, releasing his tension with a breath. This isn’t their home. And if Ireena wanted her father on full display, she wouldn’t have shut the doors.

Emet’s never understood nosiness. The people who pry into every place they do not belong, riffling through the cabinets of other’s lives and homes seeking knowledge they themselves would hide. Everyone has their secrets. Some are not meant to be plucked from the shelf and opened like a book upon a desk. Some should stay shelved forever.

His back to the coffin room, Emet listens to the hushed conversation behind him while doing his best to ignore the muffled heated words ahead.

“See that?” Evrrot’s quiet voice carries across the wooden floors. “Wolf claws likely. Not zombie. The cuts are too sharp and deep for any sort of humanoid fingers. Our nails don’t get that sharp.”

“Speak for yourself,” Evie retorts, flashing he newly sharpened talons.

Emet shivers. Phantom hands trail across his body, their cold fingers tracing over every scar with a promise to open them again. The largest of his scars, the deep wound marring his back and piercing through to its twin upon his chest aches deeply.

“The coffin’s poorly made,” Evie says under her breath. She trails one of her sharpened nails along the rough planks and Emet grips his arms tightly, feeling its ghost trail along his bones. Poorly hammered nails and glue keep the coffin together without skill, but there is no lack of care. “Guess there’s no proper undertakers in this place.”

“Or they have been taken under themselves,” Roshan says grimly.

Evrrot sweeps out of the room on silent feet toward the closed door where Ireena and Ismark argue in hushed tones, his interest in the dead lost. Emet half wishes he grabbed the tiefling as he passed, but if the charmer desires the ire of his hosts, it will be all too deserving a fate. With one tapered red ear carefully set against the door, Evrrot closes his eyes and listens. To Emet, the words are muffled and hushed, spoken by people who do not wish to be heard, but having a conversation filled with emotion that demands volume.

He can make out a few sentences against his better judgement, but there is nowhere else to go. Ireena yells she is no coward, that she will not abandon friend and neighbor. Ismark explaining he does not think her one and that he is not asking her to abandon anyone. He says their people in Vallaki need a leader. They need her.

There is such silence afterward Emet wonders if all has been spoken. But Ismark voice returns now with a tremor in his voice. It is Ireena’s choice in the end, but he cannot bear to loose her too. Ireena’s fire falls to tears and she tells him she will go. Even if only for him. But she has one condition. Whatever is spoken next is so quiet Emet would guess even the meddlesome tiefling fails to hear it.

Were he a better man, Emet would have dragged Evrrot away from the door by the horns or at least made some noise loud enough for their hosts to realize they have an audience. Were he a better anything, maybe he wouldn’t have listened himself. But Emet supposes he stopped being a good man months ago.

The phantom hands tracing his scars briefly wrap around his throat and fade away.

Evrrot slips from the door deftly, barely a sound as he sidesteps to a nearby decorative table topped with various trinkets and examines them with feigned interest just as the doors softly click open.

Ireena and Ismark walk out together, their faces blotchy and stained with the trails of recent tears. Emet casts his eyes to the side and allows them a moment to wipe away the stray rivers of their eyes and sniffle back the last of what remains. Those who grieve do not need prying eyes upon them.

When Ismark finally addresses him, Emet meets the man’s eyes without letting his gaze wander like a pointed finger to their reddened eyes and noses. They both offer him a faint nod in thanks.

“You look strong, if you don’t mind me saying.” Ireena clears the strain from her throat, “Would you be willing to help bear our father to the church in the morning so we might finally give him rest?”

“Of course. It would be no trouble.”

“I can as well.” Evie steps from the open coffin room, “I’m stronger than I look, especially when it comes to coffins.”

An interesting choice of words.

Ireena eyes her as Evie drifts out of the room she closed off to them—Roshan still within and praying over the coffin. There’s almost relief and resignation in that look. Perhaps there is peace when the skeleton no longer must be hidden in the closet. She gives Evie a nod and Emet realizes he never really noticed how short Evie is until this moment. Even with her platform boots and swept up hair, she still stands beneath Ireena’s height. Emet wonders how well carrying a coffin will go between the two of them.

“Ismark and I talked,” Ireena continues. “I’ll come with you to Vallaki. It may be best after all.”

Emet thought he’d hear resignation in her tone, perhaps resentment or the continued indignation she’d displayed at plans having been made about her life without her consent. But whatever hushed words were spoken behind those closed doors soothed her anger and warmed her to the idea—even if only faintly. The young woman turns to her brother and takes him in as if trying to remember every last detail should it be the last. Her eyes start to glisten once more.

Were he a kinder man, Emet would never ask now the question they all politely avoid. But if they are to stay here this night and if Ireena is to join them further, it is an answer they must know.

“There is something we should know.”

Ireena wipes at her eyes and Ismark sniffles.

“Might I ask why your…” Emet thinks a moment for a gentler word,” late night visitor is so fascinated with you, Ireena?”

Ireena swallows the lump in her throat and adjusts her scarf once more. He catches a glimpse of the angry punctures along her neck this time, swollen and red. Two deep fissures the width of a human mouth’s canines scarring her perfectly smooth skin, the faint bruising along the rest of her neck where the other teeth once left their indentation. She hides it beneath the soft scarlet cloth as vibrant as the blood that must have spilled down her throat.

Ismark rubs his sister’s shoulder and from the corner of his vision, Evie’s glare threatens Emet with physical violence. But Emet continues without accusation or blame in his questioning, trying to be as careful as one can with such a delicate subject.

“I only ask to assess the dangers we may face in your company. It is better to know what we are dealing with before it is too late to ask.”

Ireena nods to herself, fingers pressed tightly into the folds of crimson cloth. “I wish I knew…but I don’t.”

There is such vulnerability to those words.

Within her hands she holds a broken fragment of herself, one violently shattered like porcelain in the careless hands of another. If she held up what was broken it would fit in the space left behind, but it will never look the same. There will always be the lines of fracture. Evidence of harm making sure she can never go back to how she was before. Everything poured within will spill out and remind her again that she will never be whole.

The scar along Emet’s chest aches and Ireena’s eyes find the floor.

“Perhaps they’re like mosquitoes,” Evie smiles for the first time, her dark tinted lips soft and gentle, filled with such radiating warmth. And it is such a genuine, disarming thing, held out only for Ireena. “Mosquitoes have an attraction to red hair.”

Ireena chuckles despite herself, gratitude in her eyes.

Evie’s face reddens a little.

“So what about dinner?” Evrrot asks, leaning against the decorative table. Perhaps it is his own way of diffusing the situation—or perhaps he is simply an ass.

“You just ate!” Evie snaps.

Ireena’s smile brights and throws her head back in laughter, wiping away tears of another kind.

Ismark grabs a thick winter coat from a hook beside the front door and bow leaning in the corner, “It is no worry. I will hunt us something while I am out organizing the search for Gertruda.”

The ache still radiates hollow in Emet’s chest. He is grateful Evie undid the pain in Ireena. “Please don’t go out of your way for us.” Emet says, “Save your supplies.”

Ismark waves him off and slings the bow over his shoulder, kissing Ireena on the cheek in farewell. She tells him to be back soon and he slips out into the bitter cold of the setting day with promises of return. Ireena locks the doors behind him, several bolts and locks and bars sliding into place.

Roshan looks up from his prayers over the coffin, “How about salt. Do you have salt?”

Emet wonders if the old man is even aware of the past few minutes.

Ireena is just as confused by the sudden change in direction, “We have some, yes—”

“Good, good. I can perform a different rite for your father to help preserve his body. One that does not require the silver.”

It does not take Ireena long to procure a small pouch of salt from the kitchens, the leather satchel barely larger than her closed fist. Emet hopes that isn’t all they possess. His gut sinks at the thought of eating so dearly into their meager supplies.

Roshan bows as he takes the salt and sets himself up around the open coffin. Ireena tosses a few pieces of wood—the few left—into the fireplace and lights it, giving the holy man some light to work by. They gather around the coffin.

Emet glimpses the corpse for the first time, taking in the squared off jaw, the sharp cut corners of his face. The resemblance to Ismark is strong, yet he sees none within Ireena. The body isn’t very old either. Though his flesh is a shade of pale on the dead can achieve, one would think the man were sleeping if he weren’t resting within coffin. The unnatural stillness of his chest, the lack of a gentle pulse in his neck, and the deep gouge of darkened blood peeking above the clean cut collar the only signs that he is not merely resting.

And there’s that emptiness. The kind Emet never could get use to.

A void where a person should be and though your eyes tell you they are right there, one gentle touch from opening their eyes, you can feel it. An absence and emptiness. The hollow left behind when a soul has fallen through a hole in the world you cannot see nor follow. The sensation of stepping to the edge of a cliff not knowing glass has been stretched across it. You cannot fall and yet you feel the emptiness beneath your feet calling and wonder if you are wrong.

Emet feels the pull as he looks into the coffin. The body a portal into a fate that awaits him and all on another day. The edge of some place he cannot yet see nor reach. Not yet. But it is there all the same.

“What caused these wounds?” Emet asks, trying to chase away the thoughts and memories of a field of bodies all calling for him to follow.

“Wolves,” Ireena replies softly. She watches Roshan’s hands work, his calloused fingers setting two copper coin atop the man’s sealed eyes. “They were everywhere during the siege. The risen dead, wolves, and whatever else joined the small army surrounding our home.”

“Regular wolves or dire?” Emet pauses realizing this must sound like an interrogation. “Apologies for the questions. I suppose I’m trying to understand the dangers of this land.”

“It’s okay, all of this must be so strange to you. They were regular, I think. Maybe a few larger. My father told me to keep away from the windows before they were boarded up with whatever we could sacrifice to block the entrances. So I suppose I didn’t get a good look.”

“Why him?” Emet presses gently, “If you don’t mind…”

“I don’t. Kolyan—my father—he is the,” Ireena stops herself, “was the burgomaster before Ismark. Ismark isn’t technically burgomaster yet, but he might as well be. The people have no one else to turn to. No one else to blame. He might as well hold the title.”

Though Emet can see the same questions in the others’ eyes, none open their mouths, seeing fit to let him continue swallowing the blade on their behalf. They busy themselves with interest in Roshan’s ritual, but their ears listen.

“And what made the hoard leave?” He asks.

Quiet settles over Ireena, heavy as a mourning veil. Only the hushed murmurs of Roshan’s prayers fill the expectant silence.

“They left after my father fell. For an entire week, they did not break these walls. This old house held out strong and the boards on the windows kept them at bay. Repairing the boards was dangerous work. The more intelligent of the creatures outside kept attacking them like they knew it was the weakest part of our defenses, others battered themselves against the stones mindlessly until their skulls were broken and their hands little more than stubs. A wolf managed to gnaw its way through one of the weakened planks, its jaws snapping and trying to break off more. My father tried repairing it before the wolf could get inside, but its jaws found him instead.”

Ireena’s voice grows quiet and soft, tender with guilt for all the possibilities she did not make reality. “I didn’t see what happened…I was upstairs. But Ismark told me the beast dragged him through and shredded him. It went quiet after that.”

She looks so small and vulnerable. A wounded creature with blood in her fur and horrors her eyes. Emet wants to mend her pain and take away its burden, but he doesn’t know how. His healing cannot close these wounds.

Emet glances back into the coffin at the man who was claimed to be shredded. Kolyan’s face is left almost entirely untouched. Strahd must have wanted it to be known without doubt who he’d killed for the deep gouge in the man’s neck is the only visible wound. But like Emet’s, the majority hide beneath his fine clothes. Unnatural wrinkles in the shirt and trousers where the cloth sinks too deeply. The wolf must have eaten well.

Emet pities the son forced to dress the ruined remains of his father. Those are memories that will haunt Ismark’s dreams forever.

“Strahd was likely making a point,” Emet says. “That if he could get to the most powerful of you, then he can get to anyone.”

Ireena quickly swipes away a tear, “That’s what Ismark thinks too.”

Evie inches closer to Ireena, a desire in her eyes to comfort the young woman but not knowing how. She resolves to stand close, perhaps willing her strength into the girl she wants to save.

Roshan continues his prayers without stop, the words spoken so low and quick Emet isn’t entirely sure he speaks the common tongue at all, but another. One unfamiliar to Emet’s ears. Copper coins glint atop forever shut eyes, the holy man’s weathered and scarred hands sprinkling the salt in patterns across Kolyan’s stilled chest. It seems this rite is no sooner to being done than the moon is to rising and the rest of them are of no aid in its completion.

Ireena reaches out a hand to her fallen father, but stops before she can touch his chest. Her palm hovering over the body with trembling fingers wanting so desperately to feel him, but frozen at the idea. Feeling what has been stolen will only break her again. Emet takes a heavy step away from the coffin, allowing his gauntlet to scrape against the rough wood as he turns. The sound pulls Ireena back and she blinks, withdrawing her hand in a clenched fist.

She straightens her navy doublet and takes a filling breath, releasing the hold of the dead on her mind, “Come, I’ll show you to your rooms.”

Ireena shepherds Emet and Evie out, leaving the holy man to do his righteous business. It’s only now Emet realizes that Evrrot is nowhere to be seen. The charmer likely already snooping where he is unwanted and unwelcome.

Opposite the front doors, a set of oak stairs covered in worn and faded blue runners vanish into the darkness of the second floor. Ireena plucks a candle from one of the sconces and lights the path ahead of them. The stairs creak gently beneath their weight, the tired old bones of the manor beginning to sag and bow beneath the weight of generations.

The upper floor bisects the manor, two halves of a hall stretching in opposite directions with their stairs at their center. The candlelight—brighter than the sun in these lands—reveals multiple doors lining each path and one tiefling standing in the shadows. Evrrot looks into one of the rooms down the right hall.

“I see you’ve found our guest rooms,” Ireena remarks lightly.

Evrrot straightens, but does not apologize. He doesn’t even appear embarrassed.

“I can take this one.”

A single bed fills the modest room, the decor having seen better days as most have in Barovia but it’s functional and better still than most inns. Evrrot roughly tosses his bag into a corner and hops onto the bed, boots and all. His long coat drapes over the fine linens likely staining them in the leather’s smokey scent. Lounging on the bed like he’s spent his life sleeping in it, Evrrot props his boots up on the footboard and folds his hands beneath his head, careful to avoid the sharp points of his horns. He spends a few seconds adjusting his tail until it lays just right.

“Close the door behind you, please.”

Ireena does so politely.

A second single-bed room shares its wall further down the same hall. Ireena opens the available room’s door with a brief showing and leaves it ajar as an option. To the left of the stairs, Ireena opens two more doors. The room closest the stairs holds two small beds, perhaps a bit more worn in the way a children’s room is always more worn than that of the parents. Maybe this is where Ismark and Ireena slept as children.

The farthest room down this left hall holds a modest sized bed with a small bath. This room is clearly lived in more so than the previous guest rooms. A pastel pink canopy falls across the pale bedding embroidered in floral patterns.

“This was my room.” Ireena picks at her scarf, “But I don’t like to stay here anymore.”

There is no delicate way to ask, but Emet tries, “Can he enter the entire building or just this room?”

“Everything, I’m afraid. If your concern is for your safety, perhaps each of you could share rooms tonight. It would probably be safer that way anyways…”

“My concern is less for myself, and more for you.”

Ireena blinks at that, watching Emet as he studies the entry points of the rooms and the proximity and distance between them with an expression caught between surprise and a touched warmth. Emet averts his eyes, finding himself undeserving of the change after the questions he asked so coldly.

“If you need anything, just call out. I sleep little and light being what I am,” he touches one of the points of his ears. “No matter the time, I’ll be there.”

The warmth in Ireena’s faint smile grows until even the candle dims beneath it and she quickly goes about fussing with the room in a flustered hurry. Ireena adjusts the already immaculate bedding and fluffs the pillows a bit more, finding something beneath them and quickly tossing it in one of her wardrobes. She keeps looking around the room as if expecting to find some embarrassing item or two to hide, but finally ushers Emet in to settle himself.

He sets his bag on the floor beside the door and Ireena debates between closing it or keeping it open. She settles on halfway.

“I’ll have dinner ready in a few hours if you’d like to rest for now.”

“Thank you, I’ll be down.”

Evie keeps to Ireena’s side as the two women leave him for the double-bed room next to his and with the door open, Emet can hear their conversation.

Evie clears her throat lightly, “If it’s alright with you, I’d rather not share a room with a strange man. I’ve only just met these people, literally this day as long ago as that might seem at this point. And…” she ventures carefully, “it didn’t sound like you were too eager to be in your own room. Would you be willing to share with me? If that’s better for you. If you’d rather not, like, bunk up that’s fine too.”

“No, no. It’s completely okay with me.” There’s a gladness in Ireena’s tone that Evie asked first. “This isn’t the best room, I hope that’s alright.”

“That’s fine with me. I mean, I’ll sleep on the floors these days, I really don’t care.”

“That won’t be needed,” a smile in her voice.

“I have a blanket and everything—”

“We have two beds!” Ireena laughs, “And I wouldn’t ask it. I’d much rather you be cozy, especially after what you’ve been through coming to this land. I’m sure you need a decent night’s sleep.”

Emet smiles as he hears Ireena settle Evie into the room.

“May your soul find the ever-rising dawn of Lathander’s light,” Roshan whispers.

His weathered and scarred fingers sprinkle the last of the salted patterns atop Kolyan’s quiet chest and he voices the final line of his prayers. Roshan’s words ignite something in the body’s core beneath the patterns of salt and he feels it bloom in his own chest. A pulse of heat radiating off hot desert sands and warming his bones. It is the presence Roshan has felt beside him ever since he found his faith at the end of his chains. A presence that has been cold ever since he found himself in these death touched lands. But now it returns.

His god has returned.

Roshan sighs deeply, clutching the warmth in his chest to hold it close forever though knowing that it will rise and set as the sun within him. It is always strong when he uses his gifts, a blazing heat that burns within his heart and hands, igniting his tongue in divine power. And it is a gentle warmth when his gifts are not needed. The affection of a lover that warms the soul and keeps it aglow.

The heat settles into the coziness of a cat curling up in a sunbeam and Roshan knows his faith has been proven. His god’s favor has found him even in lands where the sun is choked into submission by the dark and it’s warmth is little more than a shallow grave drowning beneath a river’s cold waters. But his god is here. He feels him now.

A dawn light falls over Kalyan’s body though there is no open windows nor sun to cast it. The rays descending from the darkened ceiling, breaking through from the heavens to answer his prayers. It fades all too soon and slips away like a vision in the night. But Roshan knows his prayers are answered. Kolyan’s remains are sanctified and Lathander has found his faithful servant once more.

“Thank you for finding me again, my lord.”

Roshan sits back on his knees and watches with reverence as the last of the ritual’s dawn light slowly fades. But the vision twists as his eyes catch on Kolyan’s wounds. Dark scars cutting deep into the man’s pale flesh vanish to further horrors beneath his clothes. The wounds weep in the light as though the congealed blood has thinned again and the heart has found its beat.

Roshan blinks and the vision is gone. The wounds dry and blood dark with coagulation once more. He rubs his eyes. The wounds remain old. It has been a long day…perhaps it was simply his eyes.

Roshan rises from his prayerful kneel.

“I am done—where has everyone gone?”

He is halfway out of the sitting room when Ireena quietly descends the stairs.

“Was it successful?” She asks, hope suspended in her voice.

“The body should be okay for about ten days.”

She breathes in relief, “Thank you. That is a weight off my shoulders. Ismark will be pleased as well.”

“Better than having you kill your own father if he rises again.”

That was probably not the best thing to say, he realizes too late.

“Yes, that—that’s for the best,” Ireena stammers. “I can show you to your room, if you’d like.”

The old stairs complain as much as Roshan’s feet as they climb. He takes his time, leaning on his shepherd’s crook with each step and Ireena slows to match his pace. His feet may truly ache, but that is more because he has spent the better part of two days walking. It has nothing to do with his age. He is only thirty-two after all. But Roshan has learned many things in his life, and one of those lessons is that if you act old, people will treat you like you are old. And they will never guess how quickly you can move. He will laugh the day he dashes around Ireena.

The young red haired woman studies Roshan curiously as they climb the old steps and the not-so-old old man realizes she must have seen the sadness in his eyes when they first met and seeks its source now. It is obvious she wants to ask, but Ireena does not do so with her words. The nobles of Calimshan were the same. Politeness overrules many things among nobility.

Roshan simply smiles warmly at her, a smile he knows does not shine in his eyes when he looks at her. Ireena reminds him of someone he misses quite dearly and the sweetness of seeing a young woman so similar to her is tinged with sorrow’s bitter taste.

Ireena leads him down the right hall at the top of the steps.

“Evrrot has taken this first room, but there is another just there past it.” She points to the open door down the hall.

“And where is your room?”

“First door on the left,” she points down the opposite hall. “I’ll be staying with Evie.”

He hums to himself. The distance is more than Roshan would like if any threat were to visit this dear girl in the night. Evie may be in the room with her, but he is not certain of the angry girl’s abilities in a true fight. He worries her hiss may be worse than her bite.

“And Evrrot is in this one?”

Ireena nods, “I’ll be just downstairs if you need anything. Dinner should be ready in a couple hours.”

The lovely girl descends the old staircase and Roshan knocks on Evrrot’s door. A loud sigh comes from the room before the door opens. The tiefling raises his brow, the picture of a man who has been interrupted doing something of the utmost importance in his very empty room with nothing to occupy him. Except himself, Roshan supposes.

“Do you want to room together, friend?”

“No.”

“Okay.” Roshan half turns to go, “Is it not better to be safe in numbers?”

“I wanna sleep by myself.”

Evrrot closes the door in Roshan’s face.

“Okay.”

Roshan does not let Evrrot dampen his good cheer in the slightest. His lord has led him to his purpose, guided him from the cursed forest to a town with answers, led him to Ismark and Ireena, blessed him with the power to sanctify Kolyan’s body, and returned to him again as the sun returns to the land every dawn. This is a good day.

And if anything should happen in the night, he trusts his lord will wake him. Either that or the sounds of screams.

Evrrot shuts the door in the old man’s face.

Does he want to share a room—of course he doesn’t to share a room with the old badger! That doddering old fool chasing his godsdamned “holy” feather is why Evrrot’s stuck in this cursed shit hole and the priest has been stepping on Evrrot’s heels ever since. The others are no better. Tailor—how else would the fucking giant find clothes to fit—and Thorns were dragged by their weird trinkets too, no matter what lies they told him. Arcane focus and heirloom or some shit. Not the worst lies. Not the best.

He should know.

The best lies hide the truth by using it. And the best liars can tell a man he picked up the wrong sword from weapon collection and make him believe a hilt stuck in a scabbard full of rocks is his while you walk away with a new blade to sell. Tone, emotion, plausibility. All of these are necessary. Threads was close calling that amber shard an arcane focus. Evrrot suspects there’s a small bit of truth to that, but the man tried to sound too casual. Casual in the way someone who’s just had their diary picked up tries to say it’s just a book they’re not particularly enjoying in the hopes the other will lose interest and leave it before their secrets come spilling out of the pages for all the world to see.

And Thorns. Evrrot would’ve expected her to be a born liar with the way she acts and dresses. He can’t imagine a punk on the street would get very far without a silver tongue. Maybe he caught her off guard with the question. She had just been dragged into a new world by the very thing she wanted to keep secret, after all. Guess it surprised her too.

Evrrot surveys the bedroom he’s claimed for the night. It’s close to the stairs should shit go down, there’s only one window, and the planks across it look like they’ve seen the least amount of damage out of all the rooms. He checked. Evrrot suspects one good kick from the inside and he’ll be home free should he need a second exit. It’s a two story jump, but he’s dealt with worse.

At first glance around the room there’s little of interest. But first glances often miss quite a bit and Evrrot isn’t the type of man who likes to miss things. Missed things turn into bad things that can be quite dangerous for one’s health—like when there’s an explosive rune carved into a jewelry box if you don’t have the key. But on occasion, missed things turn out to be quite beneficial when found. That’s why a bit of impolite prying can turn up some pretty interesting secrets. The kind that can be weaponized at the right moment. And the best way to hide those is with magic.

Evrrot’s never been particularly adept at magic. He can’t exactly spit out spell after spell like those wizardy sorcerous types, but he has a few tricks of his own. Tracing a brief sigil in the air with the force of what little infernal arcanum burns in his blood, the sigil ignites like embers in the air and flashes in his eyes. The dark brown burning to hellish gold as the room unfolds around him in faint colorful auras.

If there’s anything here hidden by magic of any kind, it will light up like a faerie bonfire of colored light in his arcana infused eyes. The spell only lasts ten minutes, but that’s more than enough time for someone with his expertise in a room as small as this one.

He glances around with the eager itch of excitement in his fingertips..

Fuck.

There is absolutely nothing. Not a single trace of arcane aura anywhere. That’s not exactly uncommon, but it catches him as a bit strange. Were this a tavern or an inn, sure. The owners would never waste their money on enchanted things that could be stolen by guests. Were this the home of some poor sod off the street, it would also make sense. They can never afford anything beyond the food in their bellies. But a rich man’s house? Even as faded from wealth and high society as Ismark and Ireena have become, he expected something to catch his spell even if it’s no more than a little enchantment on the windows to keep the draft out or some small spell to make sure the bed is never cold.

Evrrot plops himself heavily on the side of the bed, his ass sinking several inches into the plush layers and bending his tail uncomfortably. He shifts it without thought as one born with a tail does after all these years. How the other races exist without a tail, he doesn’t understand. What must it feel like to not have a counterbalance? And how do they not confuse each other when there’s no expression in their tails while they speak? Anger isn’t just furrowing one’s brows and making fists. There’s fiery anger, irritated anger, cold anger and the tail is how he’s always read which he’s dealing with. It’s hard to read tailless folk sometimes, but he’s gotten better over the years.

Bored and hungry, his tail taps an irritated rhythm along the soft covers. Evrrot is about to leave and see if anyone’s made food yet when his eyes drift to the small night table beside the bed. A tarnished candlestick catches the dripping wax of the freshly lit candlestick Ireena lit for him. Next to it, tucked beside a fancy paperweight, sits a small book—a journal likely seeing as it holds no title along its cover or spine.

He snatches it up and flips through the pages back to front. A habit he picked up in his line of work. People are more likely to hide the best bits near the end or on the backside of pages. Most of the pages are crisp and blank. Disappointing. The only thing of interest is a list of names near the front. None of them are familiar but they all sound very Barovian based off the names he’s heard so far. Lot’s of -vich’s and -yana’s. Several of the names are crossed off, but a small group circled thrice over snags his attention in passing.

Oleg, Mirasov, Svetlana, Liliana, Ivanna.

All of them ending in Lansten.

Evrrot files the names in his mind incase they will be of interest later and tosses the book back on the night table. There are still several minutes left on his magic detection spell, so Evrrot goes about checking all the usual places people hide their secrets. And when he finishes with the room, he sneaks out and finds the places not welcome to him.

The rich always have secrets.

#dark fantasy #gothic fiction #gothic fantasy #curse of strahd #strahd von zarovich #barovia #d&d campaign #dnd vampire #vampire fiction #ireena kolyana #curse of strahd ireena #cos ireena #cos ismark #ismark kolyanovich #ismark the lesser #my fiction #my writing #tales of no one

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hotheavyweldings · 6 months

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savage-rhi · 1 year

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Mending Shadows // Chapter 4

Summary:

Y/N was a simple Scavenger of Lucis, until meeting a deadly blow at the hands of an infected creature. At the crossroads of death, they are found by Niflheim’s cryptic Chancellor with his own agenda. Now bonded to Ardyn Izunia, and tossed into the world of Niflheim, Y/N struggles to cope with their new life as an Imperial Icon all the while battling their feelings toward their fate and that of Ardyn’s.

Click here to read on AO3

Y/N’s eyes fluttered open to a wall of metal and flickering light. The soft echo of their gasp bounced throughout the Niflheim airship as Y/N processed that they were alive. Their mind felt like a blank slate until their breath slowly began to return, then a flood of memories came rushing back into their skull. First came the goblin attack, being shipped off to the MedZin Company, their hollow corpse of their dreams, and ambitions, and then a pair of dangerous yet alluring golden eyes staring right into the recesses of their spirit.

“Alas, the dead come forth.”

Y/N jolted up and weakly scrambled backward from the cot they had been sleeping on. Their back rested against the cold metallic wall while their chest heaved, and their terrified eyes slowly began to make out the features of a familiar face.

“Oh dear,” Ardyn raised his brows. He stepped away from the shadows of the inner ship. As he drew near, he smiled warmly and chuckled. “It was not my intention to scare the daylight out of you. Not when you’ve endured oh so much!”

“W-who are you?” Y/N ignored the dishonesty in the man’s tone, going straight to the first thing that popped into their mind.

Ardyn made a face, disappointed and somewhat irate. “Surely you can’t be serious? Not when you saw me command magitek soldiers!”

Y/N shook their head, eyeing his intimidating form and watched Ardyn puzzle over the fact he wasn’t recognizable before he sighed.

“I suppose Lucian propaganda keeps much of the players of the war hidden these days.” Ardyn rubbed the back of his neck.

“What are you talking about?”

“Where are my manners?” Ardyn ignored the blunt question and laughed while getting a load of the confused look that plagued Y/N’s face. He cleared his throat, took off his black fedora and placed it over his chest, and performed a cordial half-bow.

“Ardyn Izunia. Niflheim’s Imperial Chancellor, at your service my dear!” He returned to his normal posture and placed his hat back on top of his unkempt hair.

“What?” Y/N was flabbergasted. It didn’t help that the pain from their bullet wound began to strike, causing them to wince.

“I must implore you to take it easy,” Ardyn gestured with his hands for emphasis, trying as to not encourage them to move about. “Even with the best the empire has to offer at this time, I can only ensure so much when it comes to your health. You’ve lost a lot of blood on the way here.”

Y/N didn’t say a word to him. Their gaze traveled elsewhere, taking in the intricate details of the ship's interior. From afar, Y/N could make out a medium-sized flag with the imperial crest. Two dragons facing each other, one gold and one black. Their tails somewhat intertwining down the middle. Red, white, and gold danced in the background of the fabric, further making the draconic entities pop out. To the left were signs that had sigils written out in the imperial text. Y/N guessed one of them said exit, but it was hard to be certain. Whatever doubts Y/N had about this man being in league with the empire, fell on the wayside.

“Izunia,” Y/N muttered to themself, closing their eyes. A vague memory of Y/N’s time at a pit stop began to surface, recalling an update about the war over the radio. They could smell the fries the head chef was making. Y/N imagined the salty texture hitting their tongue, and how good it would feel to get some comfort food while the reporter went off.

…A recent bombing near the western shores of Galahd has displaced many Lucians. Representatives of the empire claim it was an accident while transporting goods from across the seas. Over three hundred deaths have been reported thus far. King Regis had this to say about the recent calamity. “…I have gathered a team of strong men and women to investigate the situation firsthand. Imperial envoys have been contacted to leave the main ports until our team reports back. I cannot guarantee their safety given the strife the war has caused within the region. I encourage the Lucian people of Galahd to seek sanctuary eastward while Lucian patrols prepare to offer aid.” While King Regis refused to meet with empire representatives at this time, in a rare engagement, Niflheim’s Imperial Chancellor decided to make a statement regarding the tragedy. “…On behalf of Niflheim, I humbly give my condolences to those who have perished in this tragic event. Such a waste of precious lives. Although our great empire has been at war with Lucis, we still hold in our hearts a soft spot for those who have been caught in the crossfires of war.” Chancellor Izunia further added, “…While it’s understandable that King Regis cannot guarantee the safety of my esteemed peers, I would like to demonstrate the empire’s compassion as a token of peaceful ceasefire in Galahd. On my own gil, rations of clothes and food will be given freely to Lucian citizens near imperial checkpoints who have been displaced. On my word, they are to be given safe passage to the king's designated refugee zones. I ask for nothing in return other than implore the king to find in his heart sincerity for my own country's kin. It would be most dreadful to let emotions sway the best of us during a time of crisis.”

Y/N quietly contemplated the words that stemmed from Niflheim’s Chancellor. The richness of his voice hid the quiet contempt that was scattered throughout his charismatic speech. It seemed the chef from afar was thinking the same thing, for Y/N made eye contact with him and watched as he huffed. “Generous, but there’s always a catch with imperials.” Y/N smirked and gave a nod. “I don’t think imperials are the only ones limited to that kind of thinking.” “Ah,” The chef furrowed his brows while he put a fresh batch of potatoes into the fryer. “You’re one of them imperial sympathizers?” “Absolutely not,” Y/N shook their head and took a seat at the front of the bar. They sighed, and ran a hand through their hair, not minding the debris on their palms from a recent scavenging expedition. “I’m tired of hearing about people killing each other for whatever greater good they preach of. Goes for Niflheim and our own kingdom.” “Something we can agree on.” The chef gave a nod, then gestured his head to the radio and caught Y/N’s attention. “Do you think he was being sincere about helping them folk?” “The Chancellor?” “Hmm.” “I think so,” Y/N nodded. “I don’t think he was lying about being peaceful. Although it’s clear he’s got a grudge. The whole thing reeks of someone wanting to score public points while throwing the king under a bus. If it were me, I would’ve withheld the jabs. If he stuck to the compassion piece, he might’ve had a chance of winning over more Lucians if that’s his angle.” The chef smiled big, raising his brows in disbelief. “What?” Y/N chortled. “I know you’re a scavenger, clear as day given how worn your clothes are. What are you doing out in the dirt when you could’ve settled for being a politician?” “For probably the same reason why you’re a chef.” The chef let out a sincere hearty bellow at Y/N’s sarcastic counter-strike. “You’d be a damned good one alright. You got the smarts and the fuck all personality.” The chef grinned, taking out the fries from the fryer and began seasoning them. “I’m actually quite friendly, you just caught me on a bad day.” Y/N smiled. “I rest my case,” The chef shrugged then eyed Y/N with a sassy look. “If you want the fries, it’ll be 100 gil for the future Lucian envoy.” “Jerk.” Y/N laughed.

The memory left Y/N when they opened their eyes and were staring right at the man they had heard on the radio months prior. Ardyn was now sitting on a chair in front of the cot, watching them intently. The smile had never left his face. It was hard to read what he was thinking, much less comprehend how dire the situation was that Y/N found themself in. The pain of the scourge and their wound took precedence over the fact they were in custody of someone, who by all accounts, was a criminal in the ongoing war between Niflheim and Lucis.

“What do you want from me?” Y/N murmured weakly.

Ardyn raised his brows in surprise, and canted his head. “Why, I merely wish to help you! I take you are not used to such pleasantries?”

Y/N shook their head, recalling the words of the chef. “There’s always a catch.”

“Wise words indeed from someone so perceptive.” Ardyn sighed after he laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. The manner was akin to a child who had been caught red-handed sneaking somewhere he shouldn’t. Alas, his intrigue began to grow and he examined Y/N carefully.

“Those other people,” Y/N swallowed. “They’re dead, aren’t they?”

“Oh yes,” Ardyn coolly stated. His demeanor took a turn as he appeared genuinely morose. “Unfortunately, not even my own charity can rescue those infected from the scourge. Not in the later stages, anyhow. You’re quite fortunate I happened to be lurking about on business.”

Y/N wasn’t sure if they heard that last part correctly. There was no cure for such a curse. With what little knowledge Y/N had of the empire, they knew the imperials struggled with the starscourge just as bad as Lucis.

“How come you--” Y/N’s upper body lurched forward. Their hand immediately covered their mouth as a series of harsh coughs began to erupt. Warm black fluid gushed through Y/N’s fingertips, and a foul sweet smell began to permeate. A wave of constricting pain ensnared Y/N’s nerves and they whimpered while trying to contain the scourge seeping out of them.

“Oh dear,” Ardyn made a face. He scooted closer to Y/N and grabbed a hold of the hand that was covering their mouth. When they attempted to keep it in place, Ardyn’s grip tightened and he yanked the limb back, causing Y/N to cry out.

“Take it from me, it’s best to let this pass,” Ardyn stated firmly. He used his free hand to grab a silver tray nearby the medical desk next to the cot and placed it under Y/N’s chin. His face scrunched when Y/N violently began to spew the scourge out into the dishware. His nose flared while he had a brief memory of himself going through a similar ordeal. "Lucky for us both it seems I caught you at the final throes before stage three. That's it. Don't fight it. Another day or two and you would've been sharing the ground with your brethren."

Y/N gasped out loud when they felt a final push of sludge exit from their lips and into the tray. Their chest heaved as if they had been at the bottom of the ocean and rose to the surface too quickly for breath. The taste on Y/N’s tongue was horrid, reminding them of a time when they had eaten an overripe fruit. The fermented texture nearly made them gag again while they watched Ardyn put the tray down.

“Stage three?” Y/N gulped. “How do you know so much about the starscourge?”

“You can say I am a personal expert on the subject,” Ardyn mused. He got up from the chair and went to a small cabinet and sink. His hands combed through the shelves after opening the door.

“Your head is likely filled with a plethora of questions I can imagine. Unfortunately, my patience can only withstand so much courtesy. We don’t have much time before your body begins to seize. Ah, there’s the little devil!”

“What the hell do you mean by--gah!” As soon as Y/N felt a minutia of strength begin to return to them, it felt like an instantaneous sunburn had swallowed their body, and the heat against Y/N’s flesh continued to rise. Out of instinct, they started flailing around the cot trying in vain to press their tender flesh to the cool walls of the ship.

“This medicine will buy us some time for negotiation. Beyond that, I fear you’re done for. Unless of course, I have your compliance.”

Ardyn casually walked up to Y/N and grabbed a hold of their face tightly. He glared when Y/N attempted to slap him back.

Ardyn’s hand adjusted, forcing Y/N to open their mouth. He wasted no time shoving three green tablets down Y/N’s throat, tilting their head back so that they’d swallow. After he heard an audible gulp, Ardyn let go of Y/N and crossed his arms while peering down at them. He watched Y/N cough for several seconds, then decided now was good of a time as any to forward his proposal.

“Where to begin…” Ardyn teased with a smile. He met Y/N’s eyes, watching terror and then calm start to worm its way through their body. Their erratic breathing moments ago became gentle as did the burning sensation upon their flesh.

“W-what did you give me?” Y/N coughed, reaching for their throat to rub at a tender point where Ardyn had pressed too hard.

“A suppressant. It won’t cure the scourge, but will help you remain cognitive while we have a little chat.”

Y/N trembled. Besides the draft that filtered through the imperial airship, they felt a cold fear start to take root despite the aid Ardyn had offered thus far. With the aggression of his gestures, Y/N understood they were still very much in a hot seat. Anxiety pooled in Y/N’s chest, wondering what exactly the imperial Chancellor would want with the likes of a scourge-infected Lucian.

“What do you know about MedZin?”

Y/N was taken back. “M-MedZin?”

Ardyn nodded. “I know I have asked you this before, but I need a thorough answer, unlike the one you gave before losing consciousness.”

Whatever was in the medicine Ardyn forced them to take was certainly having an effect. Y/N wasn’t sure if they liked how numb their limbs were beginning to feel, however. They lied back down on the cot and closed their eyes, before speaking up.

“They are looking for a cure, for the starscourge,” Y/N winced. “If you’re infected, and caught by the glaive or guard, they send you away to them. They’re privately funded by the king, and not many know about it except those who had to send away loved ones. That’s all I know. I swear.”

“Do you happen to know which outpost you and the others were being sent to?”

“Outpost 98,” Y/N murmured. “It’s where the infected go to be tested before they--”

“Perish.”

“Yeah,” Y/N swallowed. Ardyn sounded so calm when he said the word that Y/N tensed. “At least that’s what I heard in passing. Everything’s a blur. I can’t think.”

“I’m surprised you’re this coherent given everything that has happened.” Ardyn chuckled. He paused for a time, watching the scourge veins on Y/N’s arms rise and fall. He didn’t bother to hide his fixation. When Y/N caught on, he smiled at the alarmed look they wore.

“I require your assistance for a mission on behalf of Niflheim. Do try to pay attention for I’ll only say my piece once. The clock is ticking as we speak.” Ardyn began. His honey eyes locked with Y/N’s worn features as he sighed.

“MedZin, the company upon which you were to be discarded, has stolen valuable intellectual property from the empire. I was sent forth to retrieve it back. Given the private nature of the company, I’m having trouble finding the outpost I need to infiltrate. 98 is the one I seek.”

“And you need me to get in…” Y/N whispered to themself.

“Precisely,” Ardyn purred with a grin. “As you can imagine, with our two countries at war, I can’t easily waltz my way inside.

Negotiating with your precious king is out of the question given the current stalemate. If MedZin were to unleash the sensitive information I’m after, I fear the war will come to a catastrophic end for both parties. It’s that serious I’m afraid.”

The damned war… Y/N thought to themself. It was hard to tell if Ardyn was telling the truth or not. His features were honest in Y/N’s eyes, but the cunning of his tone with the few enunciations here and there had them questioning the validity of his statement. Y/N knew they were in no position to question him. Not when he held all the cards in his hand. Not when Y/N knew he could easily turn around and hurt them just as easily as he helped.

“What’s your plan?” Y/N hoarsely croaked.

Ardyn’s eyes lit up while he smirked. “I intend to bring you to MedZin’s doorstep as a bargaining chip. At least that’s how I wish to present you. That’ll give me access to the facility. Once inside, I’ll need your help looking for where MedZin stores its research.”

Y/N felt an uncomfortable tremor throb in their shoulders. They weren’t sure if it was from the way Ardyn spoke of them like an item, or if it was due to the scourge rising back to power due to the suppressant weaning off. Either way, they felt unsettled by it all.

“What happens when I’m done helping you?” The question had been in the back of Y/N’s mind the entire time Ardyn spoke. “What will happen to me?”

“You may have anything that you want from yours truly,” Ardyn gestured at himself with pride. “Riches, land, it be not extravagant nor chaste. We will go our separate ways after the dust settles and I’ve paid out my dues on your behalf. The extension upon your life I will be gifting unto you is more than enough, but alas I am feeling rather generous.”

“Extension?”

“Why yes,” Ardyn’s voice lowered. His golden eyes glanced over Y/N as if they had something peculiar on their face. “I’d say you’d roughly have a few months to enjoy living before the scourge engulfs your body and soul, should you choose to accept my proposition.”

Between their head pounding and pain pulsing through their bones, Ardyn wasn’t making a lick of sense to Y/N. There was no way anything he said was true. The guard made it clear the night Y/N killed those innocents, that there was no cure for the scourge. There was no miracle pill to make it completely go away. Ardyn himself said they only had a few days before ending up like the other infected. So why all the contradictions if not to mess with their mind? That’s the only way Y/N could justify it. He was playing tricks.

“N-no.”

“Beg pardon?” Ardyn raised a brow.

“No, I won’t help you.” Y/N weakly shook their head.

The face Ardyn made was like that of a patronizing parent; disappointed that their kin couldn’t see for themself what was ahead of them. There was also an uneasy anger in his eyes that was brewing with each passing second he allowed Y/N’s declaration to resonate.

“Whatever it is you’re selling, I don’t want it because I don’t want to live.” Y/N’s voice tremored. The corner of their eyes began to water. “Y-you don’t have to be so cruel as to trick me that I’ll have more time. If you need help, just ask but don’t lie to me.”

The irritation that graced Ardyn’s features dwindled down as he listened. When it dawned on him that his initial assumptions of Y/N’s rejection were false, he couldn’t help but darkly chuckle. He tilted his head up, glancing at the ceiling of the airship, and closed his eyes.

“Oh my naïve friend,” Ardyn’s voice teased with a dark rumble. He lowered his head, and opened, revealing a pair of wide gold and black eyes. Scourge marks instantly began to travel along his flesh, blood receding to make room for the darkness that dwelled under his skin. A purple miasma-like aura began to leech from his body, imbuing Ardyn with heavy energy that Y/N could feel calling out to them.

“I’ve been nothing but honest with you.” Ardyn finished, his voice no longer rich but low and daemonic.

Y/Ns heart pounded a million miles in their chest. The sound was so powerful, they could feel their pulse in their ears drumming away; canceling out everything but what was staring them down. There was also a faint but distant screeching in the back of Y/N’s skull. The entity that came from the miasma at the caves wanted to flee; to get away from this higher life form within its family tree.

“W-what are you?” Y/N’s voice quaked. They fought desperately against the intense fight-or-flight response that surged through them.

The horror and familiarity in Y/N’s eyes had Ardyn entranced. He lowered the upper half of his body to theirs, hands on either side of Y/N's head on the cot while his daemonic eyes stared right through them. He slowly parted his mouth, revealing teeth that were slightly sharper than normal.

“I am Eos's best-kept secret,” Ardyn whispered. “I am Adagium and I am eternal. Such is my curse and blessing. Believe me when I say the scourge that resonates within your body will destroy you in due time, and I can halt the process; make it less painful.”

Y/N shut their eyes tight, gasping when Ardyn’s left hand cupped their cheek. His palm felt so warm to the touch that it stung, thumb carding gently over a trail of black veins pulsating along Y/N’s jawline.

“The darkness within you is a lower lifeform in the collective,” Ardyn began. “The scourge works like a hive, and you can say that I am the queen bee. If you consent to consume my essence, the scourge in my body will override what dwells in you. I will share with you my power, and that power will keep you afloat. In return, you’ll lend me your strength to take down Medzin. On my word as Chancellor, you will be well taken care of until the scourge naturally kills you after my influence wanes. Doesn’t that sound marvelous?”

Y/N felt his voice worming its way into their mind. A horrible sensation began to fester along their muscle and nerves. Y/N had never been through a meat grinder before, but they imagined it would be as awful as this. Despite how terrified they felt, their body yearned for relief more than anything.

“Can you grant me death?” Y/N faintly muttered, finding it difficult to speak.

Ardyn’s daemonic features slightly softened, taken aback. “Death?”

Y/N nodded against the cot weakly. Even in the void of his eyes, Y/N could see he was swimming away with thoughts.

“I told you before, I want to die. If you promise to kill me after I help you, I’ll do whatever you ask.”

“There must be some ulterior motive on your part,” Ardyn said in disbelief. He peered deeply at Y/N’s eyes, trying to find deception in their gaze. “No one is that idiotic.”

“I have nothing to lose,” Y/N winced. “Just don’t make me kill anyone, please.”

There it is… Ardyn thought to himself. The melancholy in Y/N’s final remark painted a grisly picture in his head. He knew they had killed before. He could see it in the way Y/N shuddered. The circumstances had him curious, but time was of the essence. Ardyn needed to leave Lucis within a certain frame, and Y/N didn’t have much longer.

“Very well,” Ardyn murmured. “I will hold you to your vow, Y/N.”

Carefully, Ardyn removed himself from the cot. He traveled over to his long coat that was hanging up, and took out a dagger from one of the inner pockets. Bringing the tip of the blade to the flesh of his wrist, Ardyn cut deeply. He grimaced with a grunt and felt a warm trail of blood fall from the wound. A black sludge began to leak soon after.

With an outstretched arm, Ardyn walked over to Y/N and presented his wrist above their lips. Droplets of his blood began to fall on their face, and Y/N’s head jerked to avoid it.

“Open your mouth,” Ardyn coaxed. “It’ll be fast, I assure you.”

Y/N wasn’t sure what they were expecting when Ardyn mentioned they would consume his essence. They felt gross, but desperation was a wondrous power. Another throb of pain deep inside their body was enough to get Y/N to part their lips. Ardyn’s hand lowered further, and then they felt it. His blood and darkness dribbling down their tongue and throat, tasting bitter and metallic. Then it hit them; an explosion of a million faces.

Y/N’s eyes constricted, and their pupils fully dilated. They choked on their gasps, enduring an onslaught of visions. Lucis, Niflheim, Tenebrae, and Accordo all came and went in the blink of an eye. Snapshots of experiences danced in and out of Y/N’s peripheral. They could no longer see Ardyn nor taste the earthy texture of his blood. Time had no beginning nor end, everything that had come to be was everywhere all at once.

The flashbacks came to a halt when Y/N saw themself sitting under a tree. The smell of wheat combed the air, and upon their shoulder, there was a weight.

Y/N looked down to see a radiant patch of blonde hair and felt the warmth of a giggle. A woman in white looked upward to meet Y/N’s gaze and smiled brightly. Y/N had no idea who she was, but this woman emitted an aura of kindness that they desperately wanted to cling to.

Before Y/N could stroke the woman’s hair, they suddenly were pulled back into a void. There was no glimmer of light in this darkness, only a sensation of dread and power. The power. It was like a drug, and Y/N started to swim further out to sea in it against their own will. The being known as Y/N might as well had not existed, for they were a part of a collective of screeching souls. That was the last thing Y/N could remember before they fell unconscious.

“Here’s your stop!”

The intrusive exclamation caused Y/N to jolt awake. The memory was gone, and all that was left was the present and a feeling of weakness.

“What?” Y/N asked tiredly, not comprehending what the driver said to begin with.

“We’ve arrived at Galdin Quay. This is the place you wanted to get off at, right?”

“Yeah,” Y/N nodded and adjusted their body against the seat of the car. Their arms stretched before a yawn left them. “Sorry if I snored at all.”

“No biggie. You looked tired as hell, anyway, you best be leaving now.”

“Right,” Y/N nodded again. Even though the man who gave them a ride was generous for doing so, they knew it was best to never overstay a welcome. After paying up a few hundred gil for the trouble, Y/N got out of the passenger side of the vehicle and shut the door. The man sped off not long after, and Y/N watched as the tires churned up sand and dust clouds.

As the heavy debris began to wade, Y/N took in a deep breath. Galdin Quay and all its splendor greeted them through the fog of dirt. The beach was teeming with life: there were travelers from Lucis to Accordo, flocking to the resort, fishermen trying their luck at becoming legends, and Hunters mingling with Scavengers on the docks swapping tales of adventure. Children ran through the surf, and campers from across vast regions were set up near the cove. There was no doubt they’d be dealing with the giant crabs that loved to emerge from the sea of Cygillan when it became cool. Y/N felt a temptation to venture down and warn folks, but their sadness drowned whatever altruism tried to rise.

There was so much spirit at Galdin Quay, that Y/N had to remind themself this wasn’t a reunion. No. This was their first step toward saying goodbye. With a heavy heart, Y/N forced themself to begin their final walk.

Less than a half hour, Y/N found themself in front of their apartment with a spare key. The waves along the cove rolled in, creating a whooshing noise that normally would’ve soothed Y/N had circumstances been different. With a sigh, they shuddered while unlocking the entrance and stepped inside.

Y/N flicked on a light near the door, and they were greeted by a life frozen in time. An old blanket was balled up on the couch. A stale bag of potato chips lay on the table in front of the TV. Shoes caked with dirt from previous expeditions were tossed here and there. A small lamp toward the kitchenette flickered on and off, Y/N having forgotten to get a new bulb in town. There was the old cuckoo clock that came with the rental when Y/N moved in, but the chocobo didn’t come out of its nook when the hands struck twelve. It was amazing, how everything was as Y/N left it before traveling to Leide. The small space didn’t lose its charm because its owner perished.

There was a weird feeling that dwelled within Y/N as their brows furrowed when looking at the calendar nearby. The previous month remained present. Had it truly been that long since this nightmare began? They didn’t allow themself to think about it for too long, out of fear they’d lose the strength to pack.

Two hours flew by, and the apartment slowly began to revert into a blank canvas; prepared for a new owner to give the skeleton flesh once more. It perplexed Y/N how much of their life could fit into so many boxes. The insignificance of it all compounded with each material possession being a measurement of a life lived had Y/N contemplating just how unfinished their story was. They never aspired to be anyone of major significance, and that was fine by them. A life of peace and enjoying Eos for what it was, was enough for one person. Y/N would be lying to themself though if they didn’t feel a twinge of anger at their being for not working harder.

Maybe if they stayed in Insomnia and continued to work their two jobs it would’ve paid off. Maybe if they hadn’t been so nonchalant or indecisive with their job as a Scavenger, they would’ve had enough gil to move out of their shack at Galdin Quay. Maybe they would’ve had their dream house and land in Duscae. Maybe they would’ve found a better career. Maybe they could’ve aspired for education. Maybe, just maybe, they never would’ve encountered that damn goblin, and maybe the corpses of the people they slain wouldn’t be in their mind at all hours. Maybe they shouldn’t have gone after that turbocharger. Maybe they should’ve brought someone with them to the caves. Maybe they would’ve heard the goblin…

Maybe. Maybe. Maybe.

The what-ifs plagued Y/N’s mind to the point where they screamed, and threw a glass vase against the wall. The crashing sound was fragile as were their sobs. Their life would be over soon, and Y/N had nothing to show for it. Maybe though…maybe that wasn’t so bad.

Y/N wiped away at their eyes after sobbing for a while, remembering a conversation they had with fellow Scavengers years ago. The subject was about the meaning of life. As cliché as it was, there were some interesting insights that Y/N took to heart that evening. One of which was a camper's philosophy of “leaving the ground better than when you found it” or making sure no trace of your trespasses remained on Eos. The thought brought comfort to their emotional wounds, giving Y/N the energy to pack the last of their belongings and leave a note to the landlord with directions.

“Until next time,” Y/N murmured as if the small apartment could hear their plea as they finished the last of their will. They departed without looking back.

After taking a brisk walk along the cove to clear their head, Y/N now contended with the most important task of their trip: breaking the news to loved ones, and they were finding out real quick how there was no right way to tell someone they were sick and dying. It didn’t matter how many times Y/N rehearsed it, for nothing would suffice each and every hypothetical outcome.

Over the years of being a Scavenger, Y/N had gained many friends and allies. People who didn’t mind that Y/N constantly had to travel for work, or would be out of the Quay for weeks at a time. Once home, Y/N would be greeted as if they had never left. For the life of a Scavenger, Y/N felt blessed in this regard. Not many in the field could say they had such a strong social network. Being a Hunter was lonely, but there were always guilds; packs that would take in the lone wolves when the work became a burden. That couldn’t be said for Lucian Scavengers. Not many clients longed for artifacts of the past or discarded goods. The community was small, and mostly filled with old timers who couldn’t cut it at regular jobs. What Scavengers lacked in being social, they more than made up for it in trust, and Y/N once upon a time prided themself on being someone loyal to a fault when it came to their work. It reminded them yet again of the better choices they could’ve made with their life, career-wise. Yet the thought of never being able to explore Eos on their terms stung like a hornet's kiss; it burned with an ache that would never truly fade.

From afar on the docks leading to the port, Y/N saw several familiar faces light up upon seeing them from afar. Hands shot into the sky, and hollers of joy bounced along the beach. Only the waves crashing into the earth silenced the cheers.

With a morose smile, Y/N stuck their right arm up and waved back. For a moment, they forgot about Ardyn and their death. The gift of the present coiled around their heart, soothing their ills, until they winced.

Y/N looked down at their palm. The scourge and its black web pulsated under their skin. Whatever peace they had faded, and their eyes peered back up. Though Ardyn proclaimed they couldn’t infect others now, it didn’t tamper down the petrifying thought.

The beaming smiles and enthusiastic calls grew louder, and as their friends came rushing toward them, Y/N wondered if their relationships could withstand the tyranny of the scourge robbing them of the community they worked hard to build and love.

#mending shadows #ardyn x reader #ardyn x you #ardyn lucis caelum #ardyn izunia #ffxv ardyn #ffxv fanfic #ffxv

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dependabletubebending · 1 year

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Exploring the Art and Science of Tube Bending Services

The process of bending tubes has evolved into a specialized art form. Tube bending services have become an integral part of various industries, ranging from automotive and aerospace to construction and manufacturing.

#dependable tube bending #tube forming near me #tube bending near me #tube bending services #tube bending services near me #tube bending shops #tube bending companies #tube coiling #metal tube bending near me #cnc bending near me #cnc tube bending near me #bending tubes #tube bending suppliers #metal tube fabrication near me #aerospace tube bending

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triforce-of-mischief · 2 years

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It's Been a Long, Blue Day

Whumptober Day 20: going into shock + fetal position + alt. 4: touch starved

Rating: G

Whump count: blood, self-deprecating thoughts

Word count: just over 1500

Summary: Blue wakes up alone in a cold dungeon. When Wind finds him, he realizes that Blue needs more help than he thought.

AO3

It was cold.

Blue gradually regained awareness and sat up to observe his surroundings. He was in a large stone cell, in a dungeon as the smell of mildew indicated. The air was silent and still. No dripping water or the footsteps of a guard kept him company. He was completely alone.

Blue found that he wasn’t injured, just a little stiff from laying on the floor. He checked the door, closing his hand around a freezing metal bar and rattling it. It was locked, of course.

“Hey!” he yelled to the hallway. “Is anyone there? Let me out and fight me yourselves, you useless cowards!”

No response came and Blue made himself busy checking the perimeter of the cell. The walls and floor were built entirely of stone, and a single window far above Blue’s head let in a tiny stripe of light. Blue tried jumping up to it but the cell, although large, did not offer enough room to get a running start.

He paced for a minute, thinking, before crouching in front of a wall. He searched until he found a crumbly piece of rock, and began to pick at it.

He sat close to the wall as he worked and imagined Vio in its place, steady as ever. Vio wasn’t smothering like Red was. He would be sitting a few inches away from Blue, talking them through an escape plan.

Blue dug at the wall for what must have been an hour before he forced himself to take a break. His fingers were raw and bleeding from working at the unforgiving stone.

A cool breeze came in through the window and Blue found himself wishing that Green was there. Green would be a calming presence, taking Blue’s hands with a no-nonsense grip to examine them.

Blue unconsciously grabbed one wrist with his other hand to imitate his brother. He held his own arm tight, not knowing why the pressure soothed him.

He waited in the cell for even more hours, becoming more agitated and desperate for company as time went on. He had been formed as part of a group; it felt unnatural and wrong to be alone for so long. He scratched at the wall until the stone was too slippery with his blood.

The faint sunbeam grew just large enough for Blue to sit in, so he did. The small amount of warmth was nowhere near enough to stop his shivering. He clenched his teeth to stop their chattering and pulled his limbs close, gripping so tight they would likely bruise. He lowered himself down and curled up on the frigid floor.

He needed Red, warm and caring and close. No- Blue needed to look after himself. He was perfectly capable of being apart from the other Colors. A wave of anger flowed through him, gone as fast as it came. He hated being so helpless, but soon he was so cold and numb that he didn’t the energy to do anything at all.

“Blue! We’re gonna get you out of here!”

The sudden voice snapped Blue out of his stupor, and he opened his eyes to see Wind and Warriors working to open the door.

“About time!” he snapped, though it barely held any bite.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt?” Warriors asked.

“I’m fine,” Blue bit out, his teeth knocking together despite his attempt to lock his jaw.

“You’re cold, bud. Here.” Warriors unclasped his scarf and offered it to Blue.

Blue grunted a "Thanks," wrapping the soft fabric around himself.

“I’ll go take care of the rest of the guards, you lead him out,” the captain instructed Wind, then ran out and down the hallway.

“Come on, Blue, I know the way!” Wind took a step towards Blue and held out his hand.

“I’m not a baby! I can follow you just fine,” Blue snapped, hiding his own hands in the scarf.

“Okay. Stay close.”

They left the cell and made their way through the dungeon. Blue’s steps were clumsy, his struggle due to the dragging scarf and his low temperature. It only took a few minutes for the fabric’s leftover warmth to fade. Blue longed for Vio’s stability, Green’s steadiness, Red’s comfort. He stared at Wind, unsure why he felt even emptier when he looked at the other teen.

They turned a sharp corner and Blue stumbled. Wind looked back and saw the Color trip and fall, catching himself with already bloody hands.

“Blue, are you hurt?” Wind exclaimed, kneeling beside him. “Let me see your hands.”

Before Blue could pull away, the sailor had grabbed his wrist and was examining his hand. Blue’s breath hitched as the touch sent a bolt of electricity up his arm.

“Ooh, that’s nasty. We’ve got to get that fixed up at camp,” Wind said, not noticing Blue’s reaction.

Blue yanked his arm out of Wind’s grip, immediately feeling a new wave of cold crash over him. “It’s nothing.”

“If you say so. Ready to keep going?” Wind asked as they stood.

Blue dug his nails into his wrist- it didn’t feel anything like Wind’s touch- and nodded. A shudder shook his body and he drew even tighter into himself. He growled, “This is so… stupid.”

“I know,” Wind said, even though he didn’t. He couldn’t know how empty and alone Blue felt even after such a short separation from the others. Wind had no idea that Blue was so cold and numb, even though he had the captain’s scarf.

Blue stared at the silky fabric so he wouldn’t have to meet Wind’s eyes. He took a step forward and ran right into the sailor, who had sidestepped into his path. Blue stood there, paralyzed, as Wind cautiously wrapped his arms around the smaller teen.

“What are you doing?” Blue asked, hating how his voice was reduced to a half-whisper.

“You’ve had a long day, and it looked like you need a hug,” Wind said, waiting for Blue’s lead.

Much to his dismay, Blue couldn’t make himself back away. “I don’t…” he started, not even sure if he was telling the truth.

He was the volatile Color, they all knew that. He was meant for sharp words and merciless fighting.

“I don’t need…”

He never asked for anything. He was companionable, yes, but not affectionate. The others would surely see him as soft and pathetic.

He didn’t know the last time that any of them had hugged him.

He didn’t even have the energy to be truly angry. All he knew was that he was cold, and tired, and he hated being alone.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Wind said, voice painfully gentle. “We can wait another minute. Just let it all out.”

Great, now Blue was crying.

Wind was still hesitant to complete the hug, hands barely touching Blue’s back, keeping a few terrible inches of space between them. Wind was so warm and close that it hurt, and it was up to Blue to accept the comfort.

He let his stubborn mask crumble and threw himself at the sailor. Clinging too tight, sobbing too hard, knowing that he was too vulnerable, too weak.

But Wind, for some reason, didn’t acknowledge any of those things. He simply hugged Blue until the smith had worn himself down to wet sniffles, no longer shivering from the cold.

“Yeah, you definitely needed that,” Wind huffed with a smile, beginning to rub soothing circles on Blue’s back. Blue’s tears nearly started anew even as he blushed at Wind’s words.

“D-don’t tell the others, okay? Under no circumstances can they find out about this,” Blue grumbled.

“I won’t, but Blue, they’re all worried sick! You’ve been missing for hours and they’re going to be so excited to get you back!”

Blue let out a small, bitter laugh. Excited to see their normally tough counterpart, now a sniveling mess?

“Come on, let’s find them,” Wind coaxed, stepping back and grabbing Blue’s hand.

They left the dungeon and made their way to the camp, which was set up a little ways away from the entrance. The other three Colors were huddled by a tree while the rest of the Links restlessly prepared food and bedrolls.

“We found him!” Wind shouted, and the Colors immediately ran over.

“Blue! You’re safe!” Red nearly tackled Blue to the ground with the force of his hug. Blue knew that Red was expecting him to growl and shove him away. Instead, Blue nervously returned the hug, reveling in his brother’s warmth. Red hummed, happy and surprised, and held Blue tighter.

“Blue, your hands-!” Green gently loosened Blue’s fingers from their grip on Red’s tunic, inspecting the bloody fingertips.

“We need to patch that up before you get infected.” Vio turned on his heel and went to fetch the med kit.

Wind gave Blue’s shoulder a single pat and said, “Told you so.” He then walked to the opposite side of the camp to give the Colors some space.

The four settled under the tree to clean and bandage Blue’s wounds. Red snuggled with Blue while Vio told Green the proper steps.

At last, the Colors were together and close, and everyone was happy with that.

#whumptober 2022 #whumptober day 20 #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu #linked universe blue #lu blue #linked universe wind #lu wind #lu colors #fable writes

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