#desolation! emptiness! rocking on the floor with my head in my hands.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unexpected 50

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, pegging, Lloyd being the worst, post partum, csection, suicidial ideation, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

Your promise to Lloyd is empty. You have no great urge to see Andy again. You’re embarrassed at the thought. Even a bit guilty as you accept that any sliver of excitement he brought to you has flown away. The return of your husband drags you back down to earth in the most desolating way.

You swipe away another notification. You don’t know how to reply to Andy. It doesn’t seem right to tell him over a text. Still, you can’t bring yourself to face him. Your last two conversations haven’t been exactly productive. How many times can you tell him this was never meant to be anything more than sex?

That’s when you feel rotten. You used him the same way you’ve been used. Just a release, a thing to make you feel better about yourself. Worse, he’s a widower. He’s lost so much already and now you’re toying with him. That’s hardly fair.

You sit with Luna on the floor. Getting down there was hard enough and you don’t want to ponder how you’ll get back up. She lays on her mat, raising her head to look around. She’s still needy but you see her changing. Maybe she sees the same in you with how she stares at you.

There’s a knock at the door. You brace yourself. You already know it isn’t Lloyd, he would just barge in. You know he hasn’t changed at all. Luna’s head bobbles as she tries to look around and you call for whoever it is to enter.

“Hey, we goin’ on that walk?” Harlen asks as he enters, already half-dressed for the dipping temperature. You notice the metallic red thermos in his hand, “I was hopin’ to get out.” He present the capped container, “got us some hot chocolate even.”

“Oh, that’s so sweet,” you make yourself smile, “yeah, that might be a good idea.”

“Here, let me help,” he sets the thermos down and crosses the room, offering his hand to haul you up.

“Go on, get ready,” he bids as he grunts, bending to pick up Luna from the floor, “oh, she gettin’ heavy.” He stands straight, “I need the workout anyhow.”

“I have a suit for her. Thermal,” you explain as you search the dresser against the nursery wall. The last few nights you’ve spent sleeping in the glider chair, your own fortress in a castle not your own.

“You let me worry about that,” he nears, rocking Luna in one arm as he takes the insulated outfit from you, “go get something warm on. You gotta take care of you too.”

You look at him. You nod. He’s the only man you can’t bring yourself to argue with, maybe because he’s the only one who’s ever really cared. You love that about him but it makes you think of your own dad and how he would rather his flask than to spend a single birthday with you.

“Right,” you surrender, “I won’t be long.”

You leave the nursery and head down to the guest room. The door is already unclasped but you don’t think much of it until you enter. You find Lloyd sat on the foot of the bed with the little crescent moon toy Luna likes so much. His eyes flick up as you sigh.

You ignore him and go to the closet. You take out an old sweatshirt and dig out some jeans from a drawer. You feel him watching you. You hear him get up and come closer as you take out a pair of wool socks.

“Gonna be Christmas soon enough…” he says.

“Oh shut up,” you snarl.

It’s his turn to sigh. He angles around to stand beside you, facing you, and puts the toy on the dresser. You walk away from him and he follows you towards the bathroom door. The very idea of him seeing how he ravaged your body, the stretchmarks and the loose skin, repulses you. You won’t give him that victory.

As you try to close the door in his face, he forces his foot between it and the frame, “you have to talk to me eventually. She’s my daughter. I have a legal right–”

“Why did you come back? I know it’s not because of her,” you lean on the door. He’s just as strong as ever. If he really wanted to, he could overpower you.

“You,” he says. “I was always going to come back–”

“No, no, no. Lloyd, enough lies. It’s over. You know that. Whatever made you want me, I’m not it anymore. So whoever you were out fucking, go back to them. You won’t get anything from me.”

“I didn’t–”

“Fuck. Off.”

You stomp his toe and he recoils. You take the opportunity to slam the door and flip the lock into place. You keep your hand on the door and catch your breath. You hear him on the other side, lingering, the friction of his touch dragging down the other side.

“Peaches…” he says.

You scoff and push away. You go to the counter and put down the armful of clothes. You look at yourself in the mirror. You don’t even feel bad for yourself, you feel worse that Luna has to call someone like him a father.

🍑

You meet Harlan downstairs. He has Luna bundled up and helps you get her strapped into the baby carrier that hooks over your shoulders. It’s much easier than the stroller, if not a bit of a strain on your back.

He tucks the thermos into the large pocket of his coat and opens the door for you. He trails you outside into the brisk air of late autumn. The chill nips at your cheeks and nose as you adjust Luna’s hood to make sure she’s cozy.

“Thanksgiving soon. Dot was talkin’ bout it,” he says as you walk down the long driveway, “she talkin’ a lot lately. Driving me a bit crazy.”

“Oh,” you raise your brows dully. You haven’t said much to her. You resent her for all those weeks of sticking up for her son and her tune hasn’t changed, “yeah, maybe… get a turkey.”

“Ha, come on, what are we gon’ do? Sit down for a family dinner? She just wants peace but she won’t acknowledge the battle,” he puffs as he takes out the thermos and untwists the cap. “Here?”

He offers you a drink first. You stop awkwardly to sip from the brim and thank him. He takes a gulp of his own and hums.

“Not too bad,” he comments, “was of a mind to add some whiskey but we’ll save that for later.”

You chuckle and shake your head. You set off down the sidewalk, keeping a hand on the bottom of the carrier as you make slow progress. It’s the sort of cold that wakes you up. It reminds you of the day you met Lloyd and you scowl. A year. More than.

As you come to the end of the street, someone turns the corner. You don’t pretend to be surprised as Andy approaches. He wears a navy cap, his hair poking out from the hem, and his cheeks are rosy above his thick beard. He smiles as he nears, even as his eye twitches.

“Morning,” he greets brightly, “how’s little Luna?”

You slow as he glances at the baby in her harness. You sway with her as she babbles.

“She’s good,” you answer as Harlan clears his throat. You sniff as you try to roll the tension out of your shoulders, “oh, Andy, this is my… dad, Harlan. Harlan, Andy. The neighbour.”

“Sir,” Andy smiles and offers his hand, “nice to meet you. You must be so proud of your daughter. And granddaughter. A beautiful pair, huh?”

“Beaming,” Harlan shakes his hand gruffly, “couldn’t ask for anything better.”

“Well, uh, I was actually gonna pop in. I found some more baby stuff and thought maybe you could use it,” Andy rescinds his hand, tucking it in his jacket pocket. “I could watch Luna if you want. Give you some time off.”

“Oh, Andy, that’s sweet but… I got all the help I need,” you peek over at Harlan. “I appreciate everything but I hate to take advantage of your kindness.”

“It’s no problem. Really. I don’t mind,” Andy insists, only girding himself as his eyes flit to Harlan and he squares his shoulder, “just putting it out there.”

“I’ll… I’ll keep you in mind,” you utter awkwardly.

Harlan’s silent. You don’t have the courage to look at him. You can feel the tension radiating off of him. He’s shielded in that cool stoicism that once made you feel so small.

“Well, you know my number,” Andy shrugs, “I’m sure you can figure out how to reply to my texts,” he steps forward, gazing at Luna as he coos, surprising you as he bends to kiss the top of her head, “buh bye, Luna.” He grins, his eyes meeting yours as he stands at his full height, “pretty, just like mommy.” He nods and looks past you to Harlan, “try to stay warm out here.”

Andy struts past as you step aside. You hesitate before you continue on, quiet as Harlan lets a hum roll up his throat. He clucks and cranes to peer over his shoulder.

“That’s him?” He asks. You can only nod, staring down in shame. “Ah, well… you keep space from him… for yourself. Man’s got something ‘bout him…. Something off.”

“I… I’ve been ignoring him so…”

“No, no,” Harlan intones, “no, ain’t nothing ‘bout you.”

You stroll on, the uneasiness in his timbre crawling over you in goosebumps. You look down at Luna and run your hand up the back of the carrier, embracing her a little closer. Andy could be a little overbearing but he’s harmless, right?

[the-diabolist]

Mason with a Shotgun in the kitchen please?

Kinktober 2022, day 14 - oh boy. okay. yeah. I'm totally normal about this prompt (she says, sweating profusely).

c.w: afab reader, breeding, knifeplay. 700w

The point of the blade presses against the soft flesh of the underside of your jaw - not breaking skin, but testing its give. He's so good with the knife that even his deep thrusts don't disturb the even pressure of the implement.

His free hand travels down the curve of your spine and then back up, finally coming to rest on your hip again, thick fingers keeping you secure beneath him.

Your own hands are currently fisted in the sheets in a fruitless attempt to anchor yourself against the relentless rocking of your body. You think you'd collapse onto your stomach if he wasn't keeping you up.

"Mason," you sigh, pitch high and needy, "I'm so close, please - "

At your words, his thrusts all but stop; the blade slides down your skin, scraping its way down your throat to the soft spot between your collarbones, then down your sternum between your breasts, until it settles over your abdomen.

"Please what?" he rumbles against your back.

You'd like to tell him to go fuck himself, but you're far too invested in getting him to fuck you. Sweat pools between your shoulder blades and rolls down your chest, soaking into the sheets. You think you might die if he doesn't start moving again.

"Please don't stop," you whimper, words spilling out of you in a desperate rush, "please let me come. Please - " he bucks once, hard; the knife threatens to bite into your skin - "oh, god - take me, please, fill me up..."

You're just babbling, but apparently he heard something he liked, because he starts thrusting again, slowly and deliberately.

The knife leaves its place against your flesh as it's deposited on the bedside table, allowing him to grab your hips with both hands and maintain even greater control of the pace.

"Yeah? Want me to put a kid in ya?" he asks lowly, almost a purr, as his thumbs rub circles into your skin.

You hadn't really considered it before, but now, hearing him say that... the thought is turning you on.

"Yes," you breathe, deciding to find out where this new line will take you. His pace increases.

"Breed you like a bitch in heat?" His voice is rough and breathless now, losing its composure. Oh, he likes this.

"Yes!" you cry, so, so close - and then he stops again and pulls out of you, edging you spectacularly. You feel so horribly empty, clenching hard around nothing. You moan, desolate.

"Flip over," he says gruffly, backing away to give you room.

You do as he says, flipping over onto your back, trembling legs finally relaxing. He moves in between them, hooks his hands under your knees, and pushes them back toward your head - pinning you into a mating press and making your thighs burn in a delightful new way.

He lines himself up again, which you eagerly help with, and thrusts back into your core - now spread wide open for him - in one go. You nearly shriek in pleasure.

"Ah - Mason - oh, Mason, put a baby in me -" you stammer, barely present in your own head as he starts up a hard and fast pace.

He releases one of your legs in favor of picking the knife back up and pressing it firmly against your throat while he fucks you.

"Mm... you want my kid, huh?" he growls, "well, you'll get it, don't worry - gonna fill you up whether you like it or not -"

You tense under his grip, ready to snap like a taut wire, nails biting into his sides.

"Be good an' take it all, now," he murmurs, hips stuttering, and you fall apart - clenching around the staggering girth stretching you open and knocking him over the edge along with you, feeling him empty inside of you in a warm, pulsing gush.

The knife clatters to the floor as he collapses on top of you, crushing you into the mattress, both of you breathing hard.

"Fuck... that was good," you breathe, running your palms soothingly over his back. He hums in agreement.

"An' if that one doesn't take," he rumbles, "I s'pose we'll just have to do it again."

Your heart flutters. It may have started in the heat of the moment, but you don't actually think you're opposed to adding another member to this little family of yours.

[the-merchant00]

Woman on the wall - Havenn (An original story) Chapter 1

"I was always lucky in my bad luck." - Bohumil Hrabal

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

Sunlight slowly crept on the leaves of evergreen trees swaying with the morning breeze in the City of Archage. A rush of wind plucked a few pads, brushing them off the small floating island the trees stood on. The blades swayed from side to side in midair for quite a while before finally coming to a rest on mossy bricks.

Suddenly, they were trampled over by heavy, rushing footsteps making echoes in the desolate streets. An auburn-haired young woman sprinted ahead of two ruffians, dangerously running over small pools of water and uprooted pavements.

"Rock. Vine. Brick. Vine. Vine. Rock." She chanted in her head as her eyes strained to scan the road as best as she could.

She was honestly surprised at how agile she was being when suddenly, gravity yanked her down, finding herself face to face with the damp ground.

"Ow fu-!!"

When she turned around, she found a large root sitting innocently in the middle of the road. It stretched from one of the buildings on the side, completely covered in the foot of an ancient-looking tree. It's a usual scene in this city but she would have probably seen it a mile away if she wasn't too busy playing hopscotch. Now her hands and chin feel singed and her entire outfit is dirt couture. Mud recolored maroon boots, small runs littered on both leggings, muck smudged onto army green jacket, and to top it all off, two circular wet spots on her black shirt embarrassingly traced her breasts.

"Oh gosh, Are you kidding me? I was going to wear this again!" She whined. Her distinct Russian accent alerting her pursuant.

"There she is!"

Her eyes went wide. She scurried desperately, in the process, getting even more dirt on her.

As she dashed towards the plaza, wagons pulled by horses, half-assembled stalls, and wooden crates filled with different crops and products came into view. Countless peddlers busily moved about, hollering commands as they set up while entertaining the early shoppers eager to get first pick.

She knew they were close. Hoping to shake them loose, she sped up straight to the heart of the crowd. A chorus of complaints followed as she bumped into several patrons.

"Hey!"

"Sorry!"

"Watch it!"

"My bad!"

"My melons!"

She didn't know how to respond to that last one.

Two vendors were passing by, carrying a long crate blocking her path. Having no choice, she ran under the container, alarming the merchants.

The pursuers, one lanky boy ran smack onto the crate. His companion, a stunted lad with unkempt long hair veiling his eyes, accidentally snagged the rope around the container pulling its tarp off.

Then, chickens.

Chickens of different sizes flew to the bystanders and stalls, creating pandemonium.

Clucking and screaming ensued as customers took cover from the onslaught of pecking and feathers. Other merchants nearby caught the flightless birds in a frenzy while the others cocked rotten produce and grabbed broomsticks, hunting down the bolting punks.

"Oh gosh, I'm sorry!" The girl cried in her head, guilty at causing the mayhem. She even felt bad for the guys, hearing their yowls at getting hit by high-speed pomegranates.

She unwittingly turned to a dead-end alley meeting a towering fence. Hands immediately palmed the surface for anchors. The surroundings darkened, the island floating above casting an ominous shade adding to her anxiety.

Sounds of rushing footfalls in the distance reached her ears.

"Fudge! Fudge! Fudge!" She screamed internally, ears going deaf at the hammering on her chest.

"I saw her get in here!"

Frantic eyes finally landed on a branch of hope just as the voices grew closer and turned the corner.

The two boys inspected the trash crates and the heap of raked leaves on the side, shocked at finding the place empty.

"Damn it, Poll! We had her!!" The rangy one yelled, fisting his jagged hair in frustration.

In a second, The rake on the floor became splinters and dust in seconds, the nearby walls barring new scratches. Fruit-stained sleeve slid down revealing his bruised and scraped arm newly acquired from the earlier riot.

Poll flinched, hands fiddling nervously.

"C-calm down, George. It's okay... M-maybe we can try again at the other block?" He offered a small smile, fading immediately when sunken eyes turned to him.

His tomato blemished shirt was yanked, all of a sudden finding himself eye-to-eye with George's dark, unmoving pools staring into his own frightened ones.

"Don't tell me to calm down!!!" He said venomously, face bleeding pink. "We haven't had a haul in days!! Do you have any idea what will happen if we're empty-handed again today?!"

Poll could only shrink in fear, of course, he knew. His long hair did little to shield the continuous anger spewing at him, opting to avert his misty eyes when saw something that took a while to comprehend.

There, halfway up the wall, clinging to a branch like a koala was their mark waving at him.

On her hand was a small pouch. She gestured with her eyes before tossing it close to the crates near the two thieves.

"Hey! hey! George look! What's that?!" He instantly called out before his partner could notice where his attention was.

George's grip loosened when he saw the familiar leather. Quickly shaking the contents out, he cried. The green bills that caught his eye earlier at the bank and chased around half the city for, were finally in his hands.

"What... Yes!! Yess! Fucking hell!! We got it, Poll!! The stupid woman probably didn't even notice it fall out!!"

"Yeah!! I told you it's our lucky day today!! Come on, let's get out of here!!"

Poll immediately started leading George out of the alley, celebrating their loot. His eyes cautiously traveled back and forth between her friend's elated face and the woman on the wall.

He secretly turned back and sent a meaningful look, earning a small smile in return.

The woman watched the two disappear, finally letting off the breath she was holding the moment she got up there. But just as she was about to make a move to go down, she heard the loud, unmistakable sound of cracking wood.

"Oh no." Her eyes widened, turning quickly to find the source.

Without warning, she dropped an inch. A sizable gap appeared on the base of her branch...

"OH SHI-!" Her body dropped like a flailing bomb to the pile of leaves below, sending dead, crispy foliage scattering all over the place. A sudden gust of wind passed, taking more leaves from the island above and descending on her seemingly lifeless body.

Death by trees. Who knew.

"Der'mo..." Black spots blurred her vision. She yelped as pain shot up her lower back and hand that bounced off the ground.

She laid there, catching a breath for the first time since waking up today. When it rains, it pours she figured. Case in point, a flock of birds started circling in the sky, eyeing her in every pass.

Death by birds. Who knew.

Rolling out slowly before she gets buried or gored to death, her eyes landed on a discarded piece of leather. There was a tiny bit of hope that maybe they left a tip for her generosity.

The optimism made her laugh.

"I guess I will be fishing the next few days." She sighed and stared at the once relatively filled pouch. That actually meant fishing. Well, illegally by the river.

Being a naturally abundant city, you'd think anyone can just pick off fruits from a random tree, cook roaming chickens or catch overgrown fish in the rivers that literally branch out the entire country but no. Unfortunately, Archage has strict laws on bothering basically every living thing that can't talk. Ever since its unique ecosystem sprung in the middle of the dry and desolate Sahara, the archadians basically wrapped it in yellow tape. They can't be blamed, actually. From what was reported, the state of the rest of the world is somewhat shit.

"Hey! What do you think yer doin'?!"

A loud booming voice startled the young lady, immediately getting her scrambling to her feet. From the smiling apple print on the front of his green apron, the old, burly man was most likely the owner of the produce shop next door.

She surveyed the situation and was pretty sure it looked like she just wrestled with mother nature.

Did she mention severe punishment was given to proven violators?

Leaves were scattered around the entire alley and sticking out of her. The contents of her bag lay scattered when the zippers gave out as she fell on it. The relatively large branch she hang onto for dear life, laid there playing the victim. It was pointing to her accusingly as if saying 'she did it, mister!'

"Just my luck." She sighed and faced the music.

One could argue that cleaning the alley would probably be enough but well...let's just say she just loves helping people and said yes to everything the old man. It's definitely not because of her illogical fear of angry people or shouting in general. She's not afraid for her life here, not at all.

That's how half an hour later, she found herself wearing the same 'The Happy Apple' apron and dangling a "Keep calm and carrot on! Carrots at 20% off!" sign in front of pedestrians who in turn asked if they have apples.

Yeah, the branding is a little...

It was an hour of smiling awkwardly on the sidewalk, timidly blocking people's paths before the owner ushered a customer out and called for her, a broad smile plastered on his once scowling face.

"You, girl! Grey, was it? Thank you so much for your help this morning!" He cheered, handing over her backpack and a small canvas bag.

"Here, a little somethin' for the road! Just don't go messin' up people's alleyways again ya hear?" The man's resounding laugh provided a comforting conclusion to the whole mess.

Grey smiled appreciatively and looked at the contents of the heavy tote.

"Ah. They do have apples."

She profusely thanked and apologized for the final time at the kind but short-tempered shop owner before waving goodbye.

Packing the tote in her bag, she noticed a familiar glimmer. No bigger than the size of her palm was a metal plate gleaming brightly as the sunlight bounced off its shiny surface.

If she wore this earlier, she probably would have had a better chance of steering clear of everything that happened. It is a free pass for everything. But when her eyes traveled back to the sack full of scarlet spherical freshness, she shrugged it off.

"Could be worse."

She took one last look at her police badge before putting it safely in her pocket. She savored the refreshing morning air, momentarily shelving her crazy experience.

It was time to start anew and continue her walk to work which was what she was doing three whole hours ago before her insane detour.

Yes, she was very late.

Like it? Hate it? Would appreciate your feedback, Stranger! Stall’s not busy at the moment so I would very much like to chat! https://www.wattpad.com/myworks/312591239-havenn

[buckybarnesdiaries]

heaven

© gif credits to the author, i found it on google. if you're the author lemme know your @.

bucky barnes x fem!reader x sam wilson

⎢ masterlist.

word count: 1.781.

warnings/tags: NSFW, +18!!! threesome, fingering, unprotected sex, language, mention of bodily fluids.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

You weren't drunk enough to blame alcohol for letting Sam invade your mouth with his expert tongue. The music outside of the random room you found maintained you with your feet on reality somehow, to not think it was a dream. A good dream. Even if you were focused on the way he was making you feel and the heat he was causing between your legs to burn down your soul, Bucky's fingers rolling the dress' straps by your arms until it fell to the floor kept your attention on him too. From one second to another, you were naked among the only two men you desired in your life —your boyfriend and his new best friend.

You couldn't help but moan pleased when they pressed you against their bodies and Bucky's huge hands made their way to your hard nipples. He squeezed your breasts slowly, delighting himself with every touch and the sound of every gasp dying on Sam's tongue, still dominating yours masterfully. You ran out of breath at the feeling of their rock dicks being rubbed to your ass and pussy respectively. You were in heaven between those two men.

“Tell him what you want, doll”. Your boyfriend murmured hoarsely into your ear, touring the shape of it with his teeth, causing you goosebumps all around.

“Ca— Can you…? Fuck…” You whined through your parted lips when Bucky dug his incisors in your shoulder. “Sam… I… I wan— want yo— shit… I've fantasized of you… fuckin— fucking me with your fingers”.

“That's what you want, uh?” He inquired rhetorically, pawing your sides roughly as one of his hands toured your right thigh straight to your cunt barely covered by a thin thong. Soaked.

“Please…” You begged, placing your arms around his neck.

Sam licked his lips, not needing to look at Bucky for permission. What you didn't know is that ten minutes ago they had a conversation on the terrace to make that happen. No one could deny that you'd die for Bucky's love. He was everything you had, and you were everything he had. But, when both of them appeared in your house really fucked after a mission, you started to feel some kind of desire for Sam. Only desire. Your heart was occupied with your boyfriend.

You came back from your thoughts as soon as the second man recently involved moved the small string aside. He played and teased your folds using the fingertip of his index digit, making you toss your head back to Bucky's left shoulder. Your boyfriend drunk delighted the crying you uttered inevitably when Sam slammed his finger into your tight walls, clenching around him. While the soldier was being all sweetness and delicacy, kissing you slowly, the pilot started to fuck you hard adding a second curled finger. And God blessed the loud music outside to cover your wrecked moans and your pleads.

“Does Sam make you feel good, doll?” Bucky purred with his eyes fixed on yours, watching you gasp in sync with the palm crashing violently against your pussy.

The three of you knew you hadn't much time to be disappeared before someone suspected, and the fierce pace of thrusts to your g-spot had you shivering under Bucky's grip.

“Oh, fuck, Sam”. You sobbed, not being able to form a proper sentence.

As your boyfriend guided his lips to your neck —sucking a hickey there to mark his forever-territory—, the pilot was back to attack your mouth. Your fingers were tightly nailed to the back of his head, starting to rock your hips looking for more friction against their sensible cocks. The grunts coming from them filled the room.

“Shit… you're gonna make me cum in my pants”. Sam growled, landing his free hand in your ass, squeezing it and forcing you to move it faster against Bucky's dick, being a bundle of moans dying on your neck.

“Got'a better idea…”

As you heard your boyfriend chuckling petty onto your ear with his orbs fixed on the dark ones of his friend, you knew they were going to ruin you.

“Listen to me now, doll. 'M gonna leav—”.

“Plea— Please, Bucky, don't”. You whined, not knowing how much you could handle the way Sam was impaling you by adding a third finger, making you cover your mouth with a hand or the whole compound would hear you.

“I can wait for you”. He hummed, turning your face towards his. “But I wan'you to show him how good you make me feel… And I'll give you a reward later”.

You were conscious that it didn't matter the times you begged him to stay, they had made a decision before coming into that room and that was what was going to happen. Bucky placed one last kiss full of love and tender at the moment Sam gave a break to your abused cunt, and you watched him leave after checking there wasn't anybody around, placing well his jeans in the zone of his bulge crotch.

“We can't stop if you don' want to continue”. Sam mumbled then, holding your hand to bring you closer.

You were panting trying to recover your breathing, pouting at him inevitably. As soon as Bucky left you alone, you felt a slap of reality and insecurities straight to your face. And he noticed it, gently wrapping your lower back with his arms since your legs were shaking and too weak to stand by themselves.

“Look at me”. He asked you then, showing you a fleeting smile barely curving up his lips. “Bucky wants it and I do too. But it only matters if you want or not. This… This is like a test, alright? You try and if you like, and if you want, we'll repeat. Bucky, you and I”.

You nodded hardly swallowing, sure that you'd make it up to your boyfriend later. You weren't in love with Sam, only with Bucky and you needed to demonstrate it to him. You glanced at the pilot unzipping his pants to pull them down along his boxers, letting his painful erection spring free to his abdomen still covered by the white shirt he was wearing. Your right hand gripped his sensitive skin, licking your lips at the sight, pumping his glorious dick slowly, as Sam made you walk backward to the immaculately done bed. He sat first, not being in need of telling you what you had to do next.

He watched you pull down by your thighs your black thong till it was thrown on the floor, before heading to his lap and sitting on it. Sam's cock was thick and long, pretty similar to Bucky's, so you knew it will cost you a second to fit your clenching and abused cunt around him, but you were too anxious for being fucked by him that you didn't care. You practically bounced on Sam, ramming his hardness into you beyond your limits. He was fast enough to make you drown the loud cry out in his mouth, crashing his lips on yours.

He filled you completely, gripping his hands in your hips slightly painful to urge you to move, to dance your body. And you did it with nothing but whines and gasps.

“You're so… tight, baby girl”. Sam grunted rolling his eyes white. “Oh, fuck…”

You still couldn't believe what was happening between those four walls. You were impaling your cunt once and once, with any mercy, using your boyfriend's best friend's dick. And you liked it. You loved it. Sam was making you feel really good. Not the same way Bucky used to do, but enough to put you to beg him for letting you cum. You needed it, and you wanted him to flood your guts too.

“Ple— Please… Please”. You cried hiding your face into the crook of his neck, feeling the tears of pure desperation run down your cheeks.

“C'mon, my sweet girl… cream my dick…” He whispered with such a honeyed tone, almost hurting you by the way he had to nail tighter his fingertips in your buttocks. Painfully pleasurable.

You couldn't contain the orgasm anymore at his petition, looking for his mouth to invade yours again by using his tongue to drown the delighted scream he caused on you, while the ecstasy hit your body wildly. But Sam didn't stop from forcing you to keep jumping onto his twitching cock, pushing you down strongly and feeling him almost touching your stomach when his seed was spilled inside your clenching and glad abused pussy.

“For the fuc— fucking love of… God”. He roared in a broken tone of voice.

Your thighs were quivering at both sides of his legs, your lungs were emptied and your mind went completely blank.

Once you made sure to look like anything happened, you left the room before Sam —ashamed but satisfied—. Trying to walk normally, as your legs were still feeling weak, you looked for your boyfriend where he told you where he was going to be waiting for you. In the desolate kitchen. You glanced at Bucky sipping a glass of whisky, suddenly fading away your embarrassment and your insecurities with a smirk towards you, stretching his cold hand to hold yours and push you to his warm body.

“Did Sam fuck you good, uh?” He wanted to know humming, gently caressing your swollen and somewhat darker lips with his iron thumb. You nodded in silence, stealing the glass from his other hand to drink it in just one gulp.

“Can yo… Can you take me home?” You murmured in a plea, almost pouting at him.

“Hey, hey… Listen”. His tone changed in the blink of an eye from seduction to concern, placing his index finger under your chin. “You don' have to demonstrate me anythin'… God… I've never in my life felt so damn turned on than tonight… Watching you being fucked by Sam while you were looking at me…”

“You… You didn't leave bec—”.

Bucky interrupted you by freeing your hand from the glass, wrapping his left around your throat, and nailing the other in the center of your ass, directing his middle finger to that tight unexplored hole under your dress.

“I wan'to repeat, doll”. He purred in your ear, causing you to gasp against his by the pressure in your entrance. “I wan' Sam and I to fuck you at once… I wan' you to suck my dick —your dick— as he eats your sweet, little pussy… Fuck… Fuck, I'm hard only by imagining it, doll”.

“Buck…” You sobbed tightening your fingers in his shoulders. “Take me home… I beg you… Please”.

a / n: i'm thinking about turning this into a polyamorous relationship, and therefore into a series. what do you think?

feedback is appreciated, please, leave a comment to let me know if you liked it.

and support writers with a REBLOG!!! 🤍

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[bcdrawsandwrites]

Fandom: Psychonauts

Rating: K+

Genre: Gen?? Sickfic?? mild H/C??? you got me, man

Characters: Caligosto Loboto, Boyd Cooper, Gloria Von Gouton, Fred Bonaparte, Crispin Whytehead, Sheegor

Warnings: Vomit, blood, depictions of sickness... (SPOILERS: implied torture + amputation)

Description: Loboto is having a very bad night. The inmates are not helping.

Beta Readers: @jaywings​ and Rocket

Notes: This fic is based on a theory that comes from a few figments in Loboto’s mental world in the demo footage of Psychonauts 2. ...also I wrote this while sick with a fever, edited it while still sick, and illustrated the cover while recovering from said sickness. have fun

—~~~—

He did not remember arriving back at the tower.

Partially because he wasn't even back in the tower, instead standing on the frosty shoreline, the chilly waves lapping at his boot heels.

Loboto stared dumbly out at the cliffside for a long moment before frustration simmered beneath his fogged mind. Yes! Of course, they wouldn't send him back to his lab. No! He could do with a good climb, especially on a frigid night like this! His chest heaved with quiet, dazed laughter before he took a gasp of cold air that grated against his sore throat.

The wind, though not harsh, cut through every part of him that wasn't covered by his shower cap or lab coat like a fine knife, as cold as it was painful. It grazed his shoulder, and his vision went white as his mechanical eyes flashed. But even with the blasted optics glitching, he could still see. His imagination ran wild with absurd visions of ridiculous things that had never happened.

On top of that, the slice of pain brought with it a violent realization that it was not the only pain he was in. The numb shock he’d been in gave way to an agony that tore through him, ripping up and down his side, nearly bringing him to his knees. No, no, no, that pain could not be real, just like the horrific visions of red and yellow that flashed through his mind. It was all a trick—all a stupid trick from his malfunctioning eyes and his brain. Pah!

He found himself clawing at his shower cap, occasionally stopping to smack his mechanical eyes a few times until they flickered back into focus, the desolate beach snapping back into view. "Enough of this!" he growled hoarsely at the sand beneath him. "That little army man will be back any day now, and we can't keep him waiting."

With a grunt, Loboto marched forward and heaved himself up onto the first narrow ledge, already finding his body shuddering with the effort and his mind struggling to push back the imaginary waves of pain. "Ridiculous!" he blurted into the rock he leaned against for balance. "A child can climb a mountain ten times this height!" And it wasn't like he'd never done it, either. Muscle memory helped him get from one step to the other, but keeping his balance was harder than normal, especially as his mind repeatedly dipped back into brain fog.

His eyes flickered in a blink when he found himself on the ladder, his boot slipping on the frosty wood and one hand losing its grip. Realizing he was about to fall, he flung his weight back against the ladder, biting down on the nearest rung to keep himself in place. A frantic giggle worked its way through his clenched teeth—ah, teeth! Useful for so many things! They would never let him down.

If you let us down one more time—

Ripping himself away from the rung and leaving rough teeth-marks behind, he let out a snarl and heaved himself the rest of the way up the ladder and onto the ledge. He sat on his knees for the moment, his mechanical eyes pulling back as he tried to make sense of the gate that seemed to be spinning around him. No, not just the gate—the entire cliffside spun beneath him like some wild carnival ride. He couldn't remember it doing that before, but the absurdity of it made him laugh, the action tearing through his sore throat. Yet he continued to laugh until his stomach lurched and a cascade of vomit silenced him.

He managed to scoot himself away, spitting and coughing as the world slowly came to a halt. At the same time, a figure that had been sleeping against the opposite wall snapped alert with a panicked gasp.

"Ah—ah!" Boyd stammered, scrambling to his feet and whipping his head around until he spotted Loboto on the ground. "Who are you working for?"

"That fool Oleander," Loboto grumbled under his breath, his eyes swiveling to glare at him.

Boyd's eyes blinked separately before recognition dawned upon him. "Y-yes! Of course!" Fumbling with his keys, he got to work unlocking the gate. "It's said he knows the milkman..."

Gritting his teeth, Loboto shakily began to push himself back upright. A large hand suddenly clapped against his shoulder, and he gave a yell as he was heaved to his feet. Without turning to look, he struck at the one who'd grabbed him. "Tricky terrible traitors try to trap—"

"AH—no, I am no traitor, I am the guard!" Boyd cried, stumbling back and holding up his hands as Loboto found his balance.

The two stared at each other for a tense moment, Loboto's eyes glowing harshly as Boyd trembled beneath his gaze. He couldn't help feeling a twinge of satisfaction at seeing his subordinate cower.

"Th... the milk is not ready yet!" Boyd said, wincing away as he eyed the doctor's clenched fist.

Loboto stared.

"I'm lactose intolerant."

Boyd glanced at something on the ground. "I-I noticed."

With a growl, Loboto finally marched past the guard, who frantically closed the gate behind him.

Now that that mess was over, he could finally get back up to his lab and get back to—

He paused.

"SHEEGOR!"

His voice boomed through the empty grounds. It was empty of people, now empty of crows, and empty of elevators.

When his assistant did not spontaneously appear, he clenched his fist until his knuckles turned white beneath his glove. "Yes! Wonderful!" he proclaimed to no one as he stamped toward the withered garden with a harsh laugh. "I can scale this dilapidated tower myself then. Fine night for some exercise!"

He knew his way through his asylum, of course, so it wouldn't be overly difficult, but he would have much preferred the express elevator so he could get back to work immediately. But as it was, he ducked through the entrance to the greenhouse, fighting to keep steady as the action made his head spin, his back ache (no it didn’t, he was fine), and his shower cap to catch against the branches overhead. Turning his optics up, he pressed a hand down into the cap, pulling it away from the plants. He'd hoped to avoid the woman who occupied this corner of the asylum, but as he straightened his back, he bumped into one of the flowerpots, knocking it to the ground with a dull clunk.

"My, you need to buy seats in advance if you want to come to my shows!" Gloria said, turning to him with a patient, hazy smile. "No need to be harassing the paying customers."

"What do they pay you in? Leaves? Seeds?" Loboto asked, the frantic giggle that followed clashing with his strained smile.

Gloria ignored the comment, glancing him over and waving him off. "Please see yourself out. I'm not an usher, but since they seem to be ignoring their duties, I'll have to tell you you cannot bring food or drink into the theater."

Swiveling his optics in an approximation of an eye roll, Loboto turned away to head out the other side of the greenhouse. "I don't have any."

"Not anymore, but anyone can see that wine you've sloshed onto your nice suit."

Loboto froze.

"It's a wonder it didn't get onto the carpet—"

The next thing he knew, he was staring down at an entire line of flower pots that lay in pieces on the floor of the greenhouse.

"Oh!" Gloria cried. "I'm sorry, ladies and gentlemen, I'm sure the ushers will attend to this ruffian, and the play can resume..."

He left her to continue rambling to her imaginary audience as he tried to rid the imaginary nonsense (visions, pain, glowing yellow eyes) from his mind. "Fickle fumbling females feeling faint for fading flowers..." he mumbled as he stepped into the lower floor of the asylum. It brought its usual sights and sounds of one of the former orderlies dozing over a makeshift game board (with stolen game pieces, he noted), the artist in the room overhead scraping old brushes furiously against a canvas, and finally Crispin standing dutifully in front of the asylum's only other elevator.

"Crispin!" Loboto said, and the man turned to face somewhere slightly to his left. "Let me up, will you?"

"Of course, Doctor Loboto." Crispin turned toward the elevator controls, only to pause, his dull eyes squinting as he turned back. "Wait..."

"Wait for what?" Loboto threw out his arm in a wide gesture. "Do you want to hear that army man ranting at us again? Or perhaps you find it funny! Though it is, isn't it? Shouting about sneezing powder and tanks! HAH!"

While he'd been talking, Crispin had been leaning forward, eyeing him up and down. He frowned. "You're not Doctor Loboto," he said at length.

"WHAT?!"

Behind him, Fred sprang to his feet. "Sacré bleu! We have fallen asleep on ze battlefield!"

Ignoring the man and his terrible French accent, Loboto stepped closer to Crispin, finding himself trembling—in rage or in suppressed laughter or something else, he wasn't sure. "Of course I'm Doctor Loboto! I was, last I checked. Highly trained and professional!"

"Yes, well," Crispin began, leaning back and raising a brow, "the real Doctor Loboto does not wear an actual straitjacket. It's merely a strappy jacket fashioned from one."

"This is my jacket, you milky-eyed moron!" Loboto cried, tugging on the front of his coat in demonstration. "It doesn't have my arms tied up!" He lunged toward Crispin to grab him by the collar, but stumbled as the world spun once more. He struggled to keep his stomach from flipping again.

"Well, that's because you're wearing it poorly. But you are certainly not Doctor Loboto. I can tell. You don't have the right jacket, or the right complexion." He tipped his head. "The real Doctor Loboto is blue, not sickly gray. As you can see, you can't fool me. Now go back to wherever you came from and—"

"He has returned from ze war!" Fred blurted behind him. He blinked, then shook his head, hunching in on himself. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to interrupt, we really shouldn't—" He straightened again. "Yes, shut up! We are in ze presence of a great war hero!"

Crispin rolled his eyes. "What are you going on about now, Fred?"

"Do you not see? He bears ze blood of his enemies upon his robes, and ze scars of victory—"

Loboto whirled on him faster than he could think, managing a swift kick to Fred's shin.

With a yelp, the man crashed to the ground, curling up on himself and whining. "Ohhh... can we just postpone the battle until morning?" He twitched. "NON! Ze enemy never sleeps, so neither shall we!"

"Well, Fred's down for the count again," Cripsin remarked. "So if you're done, kindly step away from my elevator and off the nearest cliff, thanks."

Loboto wanted nothing more than to knock Crispin to the ground and find a few bad teeth to remove, but his vision was blurring and flickering, and he found it hard to think.

"No, really, we can't fight in the dark, and the enemy can't either, can they?" "Rrrrrghhh, I suppose you are right, for once. We shall camp here for now, but come sunrise, we fight!"

A weak laugh made its way past his lips as he stared down at the former orderly settling on the cobblestone. Yes, that crazy man had a point. There was no point in fighting tonight—he'd get his work done in the morning. And that work would have to include getting back into his lab in the first place.

After a brief moment, he snatched an item from the floor before stumbling back through the greenhouse and toward the entrance.

A nice night for sleeping under the stars, he supposed.

---~~~---

Judging by how bright the world was by the time his mechanical eyes flickered back on, the sun was starting to rise. But he couldn't tell for sure when there was a large metal cage blocking his view, with something else within—

"He said he would be back by nightfall, but he hasn't come!" a high pitched voice cried as a familiar form stepped out of the elevator, her back to him. "Oh Mr. Pokeylope, do you think he's gone for good this time?"

The corner of Loboto's mouth twitched.

"Oops!" She clapped an oven mitt over her mouth. "I'm glad he's not around to hear me say that," she said as she began to turn. "If he was, he'd be—EEK!"

Sheegor jumped back at the sight of Loboto laying sprawled out at the foot of the fountain, having slept (or passed out) there the remainder of the night. He clutched his worn teddy close to his chest and stared her in the eyes.

"Oh—I—I—!" Sheegor held her pet turtle close to herself. "I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry Doctor Loboto, I didn't mean any of that, I—"

"Yes, well it's a nice morning, isn't it?" Loboto grumbled, tucking the teddy bear under his arm so he could push himself to his feet. His entire body ached (from sleeping on the ground, not from anything else). "A nice morning to get some work done after you left me stranded here all night!" He took a threatening—but wobbling—step forward, fist clenched.

Oddly, Sheegor didn't seem as intimidated as usual. Her mouth gaped, and her eyes darted between his face and his right side.

"What are you looking at?"

"Y... you..." A trembling mitt was covering her open mouth. "D-Doctor! What happened to you?!"

His eyes flickered. "I slept out here with a rock for a pillow."

"N-no, it's—it's—!" Her whole body was shaking now, but not, he sensed, in fear of him. It should have made him angry, but exhaustion pulled at him instead, making his frame droop.

"Yes? Well, spit it out."

Sheegor held out one hand, pointed toward his right side. "Y-your arm!"

Loboto's optics slowly angled down to his right. For the first time he noticed the enormous, darkened bloodstains on his jacket, and a torn, empty sleeve hanging limply at his side.

"Oh," he said dully, feeling himself wobble as the pain finally worked its way to the forefront of his mind. "How did that happen?"

At once the world tipped to the side, and Sheegor caught him, straining to keep him from fully collapsing to the ground.

Wordlessly she helped him into the elevator, letting him lean onto her while he bit back the urge to scream. He wanted to protest, to berate her for touching him, but everything felt distant, even the upper floor of the asylum as they rapidly ascended toward it. And anyway, once they reached the top, anything he would have said was held back by his rolling stomach ejecting whatever bile still occupied it.

As he gagged, he could hear Sheegor whispering to the turtle in her mitts: "I know, I know, but I-I can't leave him like that—th-the asylum wouldn't... w-we were supposed to..."

"Just... get back to work... Sheegor," he managed to slur around the acrid taste in his mouth. Bitter bile breaks brittle bones of the mouth.

Sheegor looked from him to her turtle a few times, her mouth wobbling, and carefully eased his arm over her hunched back again. Instead of leading him to his lab, however, she led him down into the asylum, into the usual room he slept in: a mostly-intact bedroom with a mattress and blankets over a broken bed frame shoved into one corner, a chair and a desk with papers scattered across it, and a meticulously crafted and framed (and official) DDS license on the wall.

After easing him down into the bed, Sheegor stepped back, looking away. "Um... I-if you want, Doctor, I can clean that robe..."

His initial thought was that the blood stains made a wonderful addition to his ensemble, but glancing down at them again caused his brain to supply him with more awful, made-up nonsense. No, he wouldn't have that any longer.

With some amount of struggling he managed to get the thing off, unceremoniously tossing it in Sheegor's general direction. She managed to catch it and quickly scurried out. "I'll get this back to you as soon as I can Doctor bye!" she squeaked before the door slammed behind her, leaving Loboto sitting in the empty room.

Everything felt surreal, being in familiar surroundings after spending an entire night on freezing cobblestone. The sight when his gaze turned downward, however, was less familiar: there was new stitching across his chest, and on his right shoulder where his arm had been. It was cleanly done—they hadn't wanted him too much worse for wear, since he still had a job to do for—

Oleander. He had a job to do for Oleander right now. The sneezing powder, yes. His mind drifted over the things they'd discussed in their last meeting.

They'd both figured out a way for it to be made, more or less. The remaining issue was how to properly dispense the stuff. Oleander had suggested keeping it in a bag, but that was easily-spilled, and it may lose potency if pre-ground. But what was he supposed to do? He didn't have a grinder with him on-hand at all times—

A shock of brilliance bolted through him, and he stumbled to his desk with renewed energy. He grabbed a well-chewed pencil and began to write, his non-dominant hand shaking badly as he forced it into motions it was not used to.

But that was fine. It wouldn't have that job for long.

A manic giggle bubbled out of his throat as he worked out the notes and rough sketches, detailing a jointed pepper grinder with claws and a strap to secure it to his now-unoccupied side.

This loss of a limb, baffling as it was, was exactly what he needed.

[gukeobi]

New Beginnings (M)

pairing: werewolf!jeongguk x reader

genre: Slight angst, fluff (?), smut (jeongguk has a breeding kink, Alpha kink kinda, passionate jeongguk), kinda enemies to friends to lovers? lol 

words: 17.4k (i’m sorry)

warnings: blood mention, non present character death 

-----------

It was cold. Fresh snow covered the soft forest ground in a sheet of pure white, some delicately resting on the branches of the bare trees that lived around you as more continued to fall from the sky above. The iciness burned your bare hands, leaving them red, flushed and numb as your excited giggles rang throughout the empty forest like a mantra. 

You were only four years old, and every year since your birth you would visit your grandfather at his cabin in the woods. Your mother, his only daughter, had passed during childbirth and afterwards he had secluded himself to a simple cabin in the woods that was miles away from any form of civilization to continue his independent research studies. He was a retired wildlife biologist, his motivation to continue his work in a professional setting dying along with his only child. 

“Don’t wander too far now, Y/N,” Your grandfather called out to you, watching you from the patio with a smile on his face and a cup of coffee warming his hands through his thick gloves. You turned back to look at him and nodded in response to his request, cheeks flushed and a smile so wide it hurt. It was times like these in which you reminded him so much of his late daughter, the sparkle in your eyes and the snow melting in your hair.

 The thought caused a sharp pang of hurt to spread through his chest. 

Turning back to the snowy fortress in front of you, you continued to make your way through the vast never-ending whiteness with no true end goal in mind. You collected anything that caught your eye--pretty rocks, fallen leaves, and even a small collection of hellebore flowers which were hidden behind a naked tree. With your treasures held delicately in between your chubby red fingers and arms tucked tightly against your chest, your tiny legs weaved through the forest in continuously growing elation. 

Your excitement was short lived, however, when your lack of awareness resulted in your foot getting caught on a fallen branch.

“Ow,” you whispered gently, watching as blood stained the whiteness below you almost immediately. Your knee scraped against a sharp rock hidden beneath the snow during your fall, the fabric of your pants tearing upon impact and the objects that were once held protectively against your thick warm coat were now scattered across the forest floor in chaos. With tears clouding your vision, your hands gripped your bloody knee gently. 

The sound of your quiet weeps seemed to echo in the otherwise empty forest, bouncing against the trees and coming back to mock you for your obliviousness to your surroundings. The slight rustle of the snow covered bushes across from you managed to draw your attention away from your injury briefly, though what you saw was not at all what you expected.

Standing between two trees was a wolf. Its sleek black fur was a stark contrast to the pure whiteness surrounding it, the midnight inkiness unable to camouflage itself from unsuspecting eyes. It was large, towering over you impressively even with its massive paws sinking into the snow below it, leaving depressions in their wake. Its hulking physique was intimidating, muscles visibly rippling underneath its thick winter coat as it stalked towards your tiny fallen figure. 

You watched in awe and slight nervousness as it stopped right in front of you. It’s head alone was almost the size of your entire frame, and it’s eyes never once left your flushed, tear stained face. 

“Hi,” you breathed, your voice small. Gently taking your hand, you held up your palm face up towards the wolf’s face, its nose cold and wet as it touched your hand before it slowly transitioned into warm, sleek fur as the wolf pushed its forehead into your palm. You ran your fingers gently across the wolf’s head, your tiny fingers dwarfed significantly, relishing in the warmth it brought. 

The first touch of the animal’s tongue on your injury stung, the roughness irritating the already inflamed skin. You whimpered, though watched silently as the wolf cleaned your wound like it would to one of its young. Looking back up at you once it was done, deeming your injury clean enough, its eyes flashed a brilliant shade of vermillion before returning to their dulled amber color as quickly as it came. 

Too engrossed in feeling the warmth of the wolf’s body temperature beneath your frozen fingertips, you were slightly startled when you felt it’s snout gently nudging your thigh, signaling for you to stand up. You followed without complaint, albeit a slight limp on your left leg, and brushed the snow that clung wetly to your clothes with your fingers before embedding your fingers back into the wolf’s warm, soft fur on its back. It led you back the direction you came, the trip silent except for the crunch of the snow beneath your feet as the cabin quickly came into view. 

“There you are,” your grandfather breathed, a smile plastering his wrinkled face as soon as you came into view. His eyes quickly drifted to the creature beside you, taking in it’s hulking figure and bright red eyes. He wasn’t worried or scared like you expected him to be, and instead lowered into a small bow to show his respects. The wolf followed suit, lowering its head before backing away from you to return to the forest; it’s home. “I was wondering where you ran off to, silly girl.” 

“Grandpa!” you giggled, running up the patio steps before crashing into his chest in a hug. The sun was quickly setting, casting hues of golden and soft rose onto the snow as you turned back to watch the wolf disappear between the trees once again. It was almost as if it was never there to begin with. “Did you see that? Did you?” 

“I did, my love,” He spoke to you, his voice gentle as he brushed stray hairs away from your face. Pointing to your torn pants, a frown found its way on his face at the sight of the raw, exposed skin. “What happened here?” 

“I was running through the snow,” you began, sighing at the warmth of the inside of the cabin as your grandfather led you to the kitchen. You sat down on one of the dining room chairs, watching as he grabbed a first aid kit from one of the cupboards. “And I tripped over a rock. It hurt pretty bad.”

Your grandpa hummed, listening to your story intently as he slowly disinfected the wound with antibacterial soap before taking out a bandage to cover it with.  “And then?” 

“And then this big wolf showed up out of nowhere!” you exclaimed, waving your hands high above your head to try to demonstrate. “He was huge, but he didn’t hurt me. He helped me. He licked my knee and led me back here.” 

“Did he?” Placing a bandage onto your knee, he chuckled as he gently took your small, cold hands in his own and led you from the kitchen to your bedroom. You quickly changed from your wet, outside clothes and into your warm sleep clothes, hopping into bed with a smile that didn’t seem like it was fading still on your face. 

“I have something to tell you, Y/N. Something important.” your grandfather spoke, his voice low as he pulled the covers up to your chest. By now the sun has fully set, the only light illuminating your room coming from the pale moonlight glow and the dulled bedside lamp. “There are many wolves out there, Y/N. Special wolves. They will never hurt you if you welcome them with open arms and an open mind.” 

With that, he placed a kiss on your forehead and turned off your bedside lamp, the door to your bedroom closing softly in his wake. Almost complete darkness welcomed you, the light of the full moon bathing you in it’s ethereal shine, and as you fell asleep that night you swore you could hear the distant howls singing you a lullaby. 

---------

  The coldness of the outside air was pleasant against your skin, the thick material of your hoodie sheathing most of the elements from your exposed flesh. You worked diligently on moving each box from the back of your car to the inside of the cabin, music playing quietly through your headphones to fill the quietness of the empty forest. 

You were now twenty-one, and it's been 3 months since your grandfather has passed. 

His death had taken a huge toll on you. You had stopped visiting him during the summer after your thirteenth birthday, school and relationships outweighing the desire to spend the three months you had free in the woods alone and not with your friends. Up until now you didn’t feel any regret in doing so, your relationship with him eventually fading into the only communication being handwritten cards sent every holiday or your birthday. Though ever since you found out about the news of his death the only thing you could feel was heartbreak and guilt. 

Stepping back outside you grabbed the last box out of your trunk, shutting it with a sigh before moving to finally go back inside. You were tired, lately that’s all you’ve been, and moving from the heart of Seoul to the forests of a forgotten city was harder than you’d originally envisioned it to be. The drive was long, the bright early morning sky fading into the depths of midnight before you could even realize, barely any stops made in between. The only thing you wanted to do now was rest. 

--------

Looking around the cabin it was exactly how you remembered it being, albeit desolate as the livelihood that used to thrive was now replaced with cold emptiness in the absence of its light. The dark tinted wood flooring was cold beneath your sock clad feet as you moved to light the fireplace, illuminating the living room in a light golden hue and filling it with warmth. 

There were many pictures lining the stone built around the fireplace, and you could recognize your face in some of them as you moved to pick one up. You ran your finger gently over the glass, brushing some of the built up dust away to reveal the image of you and your grandpa’s smiling face staring back at you. 

It was snowing in the picture, your faces flushed red and snow stuck in your hair. The memory of when the photo was taken was fuzzy, blurry at some of the edges but it still made your eyes well up; a small smile on your face as your tears hit the glass protecting it. 

Gently placing the picture frame back on the mantle, your eyes drifted to the other photos that lined the stone. One that managed to catch your eye was one of your grandfather, smiling like always and surrounded by three very large wolves. 

One was an earthy brown color, lanky and tall but still muscular and intimidating while the other a healthy mix of grey and white, specks of dirty brown littering it’s coat. The last one was slightly hidden, it’s obnoxiously large head peeking behind your grandfather’s shoulder shyly as it’s inky black coat contrasted nicely with the warm autumn background. It felt strangely familiar, though you couldn’t pinpoint why. 

Your grandfather always talked about the wolves that roamed the forest in which he lived and how they were special, different. You never truly understood what he meant by that, though you assumed he had simply built a relationship with the creatures as he focused his studies on them and their behaviours. 

You tried not to dwell on it too much. 

Shaking your head you placed the photo back where it was on the fireplace, taking one last look at your new home before putting the fire out and getting ready for bed. 

------- 

In the morning you were rudely woken up by the sound of somebody knocking on your door. It was strange, you thought, nobody came by these parts by chance and the closest neighbour you had was miles away. You doubted if they even really cared if somebody new moved in overnight, though you assumed news spread fast in small areas like these. Furrowing your eyebrows, you rubbed the sleep out of your eyes before quickly answering the door. 

What greeted you were two men, one noticeably taller than the other with dirty silver blonde hair and kind eyes that seemed welcoming. The other had hair the shade of night, with cat-like eyes that made you more uncomfortable the longer you looked at them. Both were wearing simple clothes, though arguably not appropriate for the freezing weather. You shifted nervously. 

“Can I help you?” you spoke, voice slightly raspy from sleep. The coldness of the early morning air nipped at your exposed arms, your simple t-shirt not doing much to shelter you from the cold as it entered into your home. Your eyes drifted to the taller one of the two as he spoke. 

“Hi, my name is Namjoon and this is my brother, Yoongi.” he spoke, eyes crinkling at the sides as he smiles at you. He has a gentle smile, you think. “We live a couple miles up the street and heard of somebody moving in. You’re new around here, yes?” 

He spoke eloquently, obviously educated and smart judging by the way he chose to present himself, but there was a slight disconnect with his words--  a slur to his accent you didn’t recognize. One you couldn’t point out. 

You nodded in response to his question, a polite smile on your face. “I just finished moving in yesterday.” 

Something felt off, they felt off. The shorter one of the two, Yoongi you remember his name being, you caught his eyes wandering-- drifting past your shoulder in a futile attempt to see inside your home. Shifting uncomfortably, you leaned your shoulder against the wooden door frame in an attempt to block his view. You didn’t know where this conversation was heading, and you really didn’t want to find out, either. 

The taller one, Namjoon, opened his mouth to speak before he was quickly interrupted. 

“The old man that used to live here,” Yoongi began, eyes narrowing at you underneath his fringe. His voice was relatively monotone, yet somehow aggressive and accusatory. “What happened to him.” 

Namjoon whipped his head around to look at the shorter man, eyebrows furrowed and expression tight. The frustration was evident in his voice as he quickly turned back to you, “I apologize for him-” 

“It’s okay,” you waved off quickly, though slightly hurt by the bluntness of his tone. Clearing your throat you fought hard to fight back tears, not wanting to embarrass yourself in front of strangers by completing breaking down. You let out a small sigh before continuing, “My grandfather, he passed away a couple months ago. He left all of his belongings to me in his will, so I-I wanted to move in to make sure nothing happened to his home and research.” 

At that, both of them seemed to deflate in relief, their shoulders less tense-- though at the mention of the word ‘grandfather’ they seemed to be more intrigued. 

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” Namjoon spoke, his voice low. He stuck his hand out in a handshake, his palm large against your own smaller one as you gripped it gently. His hand was warm, incredibly so, despite the freezing temperature he was standing in. “I can’t imagine the pain you’re going through right now and I apologize for intruding.” 

“Thank you,” you replied, the warmth of his palm comforting. “Would you like to come in for some coffee? Tea?” 

“We would love to,” Looking regretful, Namjoon turned to look at Yoongi briefly, the latter’s eyes never once leaving your face. “But we should really get going. Next time, maybe?” 

Smiling, you nodded your head in agreement. “Next time, then.”

You watched silently as they left, your hands stilling on the door as you went to close it. They had stated earlier that their home was miles away from yours, yet you didn’t see them getting into a car or any mode of transportation to make their way back-- instead the sound of their shoes crunching on the gravel of your driveway as they walked seemed to echo in the quiet early morning air. 

Furrowing your eyebrows you shook your head, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. The whole interaction left a weird taste in your mouth, though you attempted not to linger over it too much, unsure if you’d realistically ever see them again. Closing the door with a dull thud your bare feet padded against the cold wood flooring as you made your way to the living room, relighting the fireplace with a match to help fill the room with much needed warmth. 

------ 

You spent most of the day unpacking your things. The interaction early this morning with Namjoon and Yoongi was pushed to the back of your mind now as you attempted to settle in. Surprisingly enough it wasn’t as difficult as you initially thought, though you guess you can place it on this place being your second home for thirteen years of your life. 

As the cabin was located semi remotely and the nearest town wasn’t anywhere close to you, your grandfather had built a tiny farm in the “backyard” to produce his own food. He refused to hunt live animals to eat, his reasoning being he didn’t have the heart to do so; a lifestyle you adopted from him during your younger years. Putting on a thick, warm hoodie to help combat the chilly winds you ventured outside to check on it. 

What you expected to see were rotting and decaying plants, seeing as there had been nobody around to take care of them for months.

 But they weren't. 

The fruits and vegetables looked as fresh and healthy as they could be, vibrant against the dull earthy ground they grew on. There had to be a logical explanation for this, produce couldn’t have survived as long as they have without being eaten by wildlife or destroyed by the elements and lack of care. Getting down on your knees, you moved to check the roots of the plants for any disturbances or ruptures when you heard it.

Behind you there was the snapping of a twig, the sound irritatingly loud in the otherwise quiet forest. You stilled, breath hitching in your throat as you tried to process what was happening. Perhaps you were being paranoid, you thought. You lived in a forest, there were wild animals all around you and one twig snapping shouldn’t warrant such a reaction. 

That was until the sound was followed by a low growl. It was quiet enough to not be heard if you weren’t paying enough attention, but loud enough to make the hairs rise on the back of your neck. Turning your head slowly, the first thing you tried to do was figure out who, or what, was there before turning your body completely. 

Standing about 10 feet away from you was a wolf. It’s coat was as black as a clear night sky, sleek and silky yet slightly matted with the only color being the dulled amber of its eyes. Its snout was pulled back in a snarl, the stained whites of its elongated canines taunting you while its eyes stared directly at you in aggression. 

You remembered distinctly about the values your grandfather instilled in you when you were young, to be gentle to the wolves that live on this land and to approach them with respect. So you raised the palm of your hand silently-- the situation eliciting a strange sense of deja vu--the act in itself a sign of non aggression. 

It didn’t work. 

The wolf’s growls got progressively louder as it stalked towards you, it’s massive paws sinking heavily into the earth below. You didn’t have time to react before it lunged for you, the plants behind you smothering behind as you fell back, the smell of blood penetrating the air as the thorns of the blackberry bush behind you pierced your skin. The palm of your hand stained a deep wine red. 

It’s growls seemed to reverberate in your skull as saliva dripped from it’s bared canines and onto your cheek, it’s hot breath making you choke up in fear. The feeling of it’s heavy paws on your chest made you feel like you were suffocating, pushing you further into the wet soil. 

You were scared. Unbelievably scared. The adrenaline and panic was pulsing through your veins like blood, hot and thick and circulating your entire body without pause.

It’s only been a day and you’re already staring at the face of death. 

“Please,” you begged, your eyes wet with tears as they fell down into your hair and mixed with the soil below. To whom or what you were pleading to you did not know, your eyes slowly drifting from it’s bared teeth to your own pitiful reflection staring back at you in its eyes. The creature seemed to falter at the eye contact, eyes widening a fraction before you see it’s nose wiggling from your peripheral vision. 

Slowly you could see the wolf’s snarl fade, it’s large paws stepping off your chest and back into the wet earth as it continued to back away from you. You were scared and confused, your body terrifying still until you heard the sound of branches snapping and leaves crunching as the wolf made its way back into the forest where it came from, sparing one last look at your fear-stricken form before disappearing from your view completely. 

You lied there silently for what felt like an eternity, your hands shaking as they gripped the dirt, the pain from your cut dulled from shock. Getting up quickly you rushed inside, taking off all your clothes and turning the shower dials to the hottest setting. It burned, your hands still slightly trembling as you scrubbed yourself roughly and watched as the water ran down the drain pink before eventually turning clear. The shower didn’t do much to calm your nerves. 

--- 

“This was a bad idea,” you mumbled to yourself, brushing your wet hair away from your face with your hand. There was a heavy bandage wrapped around it, the wound not as painful as it was a couple of hours ago but still pulsing painfully if you moved it the wrong way. You stared blankly at your bedroom wall, your thoughts blank as you noted with dull interest how the light birch color contrasted nicely with the darkly tinted wood flooring.

 Maybe you should have stayed at your apartment in Seoul. It was safe there, arguably so, and you could’ve collected all your grandfather’s belongings and had them stored somewhere rather than secluding yourself away from the rest of civilization like a recluse. 

But the guilt of abandoning the last familial connection you had with your mother out of teenage stupidity really weighed down on you, keeping you up at night and consistently plaguing your thoughts. You had originally thought that moving here into his cabin and protecting, perhaps continuing, his wildlife research would bring you some sense of closure or relief. Maybe you were wrong. 

 Letting out a deep sigh you moved to open a drawer on your bedside table, pulling out an old faux leather bound book. You had found it in your grandfather’s study while you were cleaning out some storage, tucked neatly in a hand built bookcase between a plethora of others that looked vaguely similar. The only difference was the golden wolf stamped onto the spine and cover, reflecting beautifully as the light from your lamp bounced off of it. 

When you ran your finger over the design it felt smooth beneath your fingertips, stunningly beautiful yet the only thing you could think of when you saw it was the beast that almost killed you earlier today. 

Opening the book gently, what greeted you was the illustration of a howling wolf-- the black ink contrasting the off-white page with the word ‘Lycanthropy’ written below it. You ran your finger over the ink, feeling the coarseness of the wrinkled paper as you diligently flipped the stained pages, each one filled with notes, sketches and anatomy studies of what your grandfather deemed ‘lycanthropes’. 

Of course you had entertained the idea of werewolves when younger, though once you were out of your preteen years you had scrapped the idea entirely as you knew it was biologically impossible. But when your grandfather was alive all he talked to you about was the wolves and how special they were, how they were different. You were young at the time so of course you didn’t question it, though now you didn’t know what to think. Your whole reality and what you knew to be real, not real or just simple folklore used to entertain and scare children was being flipped on you and your mind was a muddled mess.

 If these creatures actually existed, these werewolves--or lycanthropes as your grandfather so politely called them-- what stopped other things like vampires and witches from being real too? 

You shut the book in haste, anger quickly replacing confusion as you clenched your fists. What you were angry about you didn’t know, but you knew you weren’t going to let this go easily. You needed answers, and you were going to get them. 

-------- 

It’s been several days since your encounter with the wolf and the discovery that werewolves were, in fact, real. Or, so you assumed. You haven’t been outside since the attack, holding yourself up in the study to read every book that lined the shelves and sort through every scrap paper abandoned on his desk in an attempt to find answers. 

The early morning sun was beaming through the window, warm against your face as you slept peacefully. You’d fallen asleep in the study again, your face squished up against the cold wood of the desk and the ink stained papers after a long night of reading and studying. It was nothing like you’d ever seen before, every detail about every living and non living thing that dwelled in this forest was written and logged into separate books and carefully stored so they wouldn’t get ruined or lost with age. 

You blinked your eyes sleepily, stretching your arms above your head as you winced at the pain in your neck from sleeping in an uncomfortable position for days. There was an awful taste in your mouth and a pounding headache making your eyes squeeze shut in pain, the bright sunlight streaming through your window not doing much to help with the dull throbbing in your head. You suppose the lack of food, water and sleep finally caught up with you. 

Rubbing your temples with your fingertips you vaguely remembered reading about a natural migraine remedy that grew in the forest somewhere in one of your grandfather’s books. There was no asprin here, so you had to make due with what you had. 

Quickly sorting through the mess of papers on the desk you found what you were looking for, an old looking book with various plants huddled together stamped in golden ink on the front cover and spine. You flipped through the pages, finally locating a detailed illustration of the peppermint herb you needed and a description of its uses located directly below it.

You got ready quickly, changing clothes and taking care of your hygiene before grabbing the book you needed off the kitchen table and making your way to the back door. Before you could place your hand on the handle you froze, a sharp pain irritating your palm as you clenched your fist at the memory of the dangers that lurk within those woods. You weren’t as scared as you used to be, more educated and less naive than you were before but the weariness was still there. 

The metal handle was cold against the palm of your hand, the outside air welcoming against your face as you stepped outside. The weather was more forgiving than it used to be, the sun shining bright overhead and the temperature pleasantly warm. Your shoes touched the forest floor for the first time in what felt like forever, the book you needed tucked protectively underneath your arm as you made your way through the forest. 

It was hard to identify the difference between the herbs at first look as they all looked the same to the inexperienced eye, though you diligently tried your best. 

Bending down, your knees touched the wet earth as you sorted through the bushes, comparing the leaves to the ones that were sketched onto the pages. It wasn’t long until you heard the slight rustle of the bushes behind you, your fists tightening around the pages of your book. 

“You can come out you know,” you began, plucking the peppermint leaves off their stem before getting up and turning to where the sound originated from. “I know you’re out there.” 

You heard it before you saw it. It’s low growl pierced the tense air as it finally exposed itself to you, the same massive paws that pinned you to the ground and made you choke on your own fear left dents in the moist forest floor as it stepped from behind the trunk of a young redwood tree. It’s teeth were bared in a sharp snarl, its once dull amber eyes now a brilliant shade of vermillion as it stared at you in distrust. 

“I know what you are,” you spoke, voice wobbling as tears clouded your vision. “You’re a lycan. A werewolf.” 

The lycan’s growls grew louder at your confession, the hairs on it’s back rising and it’s posture getting defensive. You recognized the wolf from the one in the picture resting above your fireplace, it’s then shy gaze replaced with a look of distrust.

 It seemed just as angry and confused as you were, yet you didn’t know if that comforted you or not. 

“My grandfather, Il Sung, you knew him didn’t you. He studied your kind for years and recorded everything in his books and you let him.” The lycan seemed to falter at that, it’s posture slackening slightly-- caught off guard. You decided to test your luck, slowly stepping closer and watched as the lycans growls continued to grow, though they didn’t seem as threatening as before. “You let him because you trusted him, and he trusted you. I moved here to protect his home, his research, and by extension that means you!” 

You shook your head, the anger bubbling inside you quickly rising to the surface as hot tears stained your cheeks.  “I’m not scared of you, you beast. Why would I be?” 

Tension quickly rose, the once pleasant air now suffocating with each word that passed your lips. “You’re a coward! Nothing but a sheep in wolf’s clothing.”

Your voice echoed in the otherwise quiet forest, every emotion that you’ve managed to keep at bay and hidden inside of yourself spilling out without your consent. The anger, the guilt, the sadness-- all of it. “I have done nothing to you. Nothing! Yet you come into my home and threaten me? Me?!” 

The lycan’s growls stopped completely, it’s posture relaxing and it’s eyes returning back to their normal bronze shade as the only sound reverberating off the trees was your emotional mess. There was a quiet pause before you continued. 

“I’m not here to hurt you, ” you began, never once breaking eye contact with the creature in front of you. “I loved my grandfather more than you could know, and I’m just as hurt and confused about everything that’s happened as you are. So please, just give me a damn break.” 

The silence following was deafening, you both didn’t dare to move as you stared at each other for what felt like an eternity-- both of you standing your ground. Your face was flushed with tears as you watched in confusion as the wolf trekked closer to you, it’s movements cautious and slow. The closer the lycan got the more you noticed how large it was, reaching up to the center of your belly in height with muscles rippling through its inky black coat at each step it took. It was more intimidating than you’d admit to yourself. 

The first touch of it’s wet nose against your palm made you flinch.

 Yesterday you had finally removed the bandage from around your cut, opting to let it breathe and putting a natural ointment on it to help the healing process. It was still relatively fresh, only a few days passing from the time you had received it to now, so it stung slightly at the first pass of the lycan’s rough tongue. It’s ears were slightly pinned back as it licked your wound, looking more like an oversized dog than the beast that tried to kill you a week prior. 

Your left hand, the one that was uninjured, shook slightly as you raised it, your fingers carefully embedding themselves in the silky fur of the lycan. It stilled at the feeling, a low growl vibrating through its body before it continued its ministrations. When it was finished it stepped back slightly, its eyes flashing the same bright red it had before when it first showed itself to you.  

Stepping back, your hands felt cold in the absence of the lycan’s warmth, fingers clenching in a fist as you furrowed your eyebrows. The headache from earlier seemed to come back worse than it originally was earlier, the bearing sunlight suddenly too harsh on your eyes. 

This whole situation was oddly familiar, and it confused you. A lot.

You moved to make your way back to the cabin without another word or sparing glance, weaving through the trees and leaving the lycan abandoned far behind you. 

------- 

   Early the next morning you found yourself in the garden. The weather was still pleasantly warm, a slight breeze leaving goosebumps along your bare arms as you worked on plucking the ripe fruits and veggies from their stems and throwing away the rotten ones. Your headache from yesterday had eventually subsided after following the instructions written down for you, a fairly tiny jar of peppermint oil managing to save you from a night-long nightmare. 

It wasn’t long after that you heard it’s arrival. Although the crunch of fallen leaves no longer scared you with it’s rather cliche implications, you were still surprised to see the familiar figure of the wolf with an inky black coat standing in the treeline. 

“You’re back,” you breathed, shock flooding your features as you watched it saunter towards you. It stopped relatively close, only about six feet away from the garden where you were kneeling. At first you were unsure if it even heard you, though the huff that passed it’s lips as it sat down quietly to bask underneath the afternoon sun proved otherwise. You noticed its auburn eyes following your every move; watching, observing, thinking. 

 Knowing there was somebody residing underneath that wolf’s skin made you feel vulnerable and exposed underneath it’s heavy gaze, the lycan never once moving from its position underneath the sun. Originally you thought that somewhere in the study there would be records of the wolves that lived in the forest; their names, photos, drawings-- anything. 

You found nothing. 

It frustrated you more than you’d like to admit. No matter how much you read or studied, you still felt completely naive to the world suddenly shoved in front of you. 

“When I was younger, every summer I would come here to visit my grandpa,” you suddenly spoke, eyes intently trained on the tomatoes you were currently picking. The lycan didn’t seem to make any moves at the sound of your voice. “And all he would talk about was the wolves. It was always about the wolves.”

Getting up, you brushed the soil off your pants before turning to face the wolf completely, it’s gaze never leaving yours as you spoke. Sighing quietly, you rested the basket of freshly picked produce against your hip to close your eyes and collect your thoughts.

 It felt nice to talk to somebody after being alone for so long, even if they couldn’t talk back. 

“My mother died shortly after my birth,” you explained, moving to set down the basket on the edge of the porch. You chuckled lightly, wringing your hands together as your gaze moved to look at the clear blue sky above, tears brimming your eyes. “And my father, he hoped that by sending me here I-I would have a chance to have a connection with my mother’s side before it was gone completely.” 

Your voice was quiet as you continued. “And I gave that up for my own teenage selfishness” 

It was quiet for a long time after that. None of you moved, the birds chirping high in the treetops as they mingled together and the distant sound of rabbits running through the brush filling the void. You swung your legs thoughtlessly as you sat on the edge of the porch, the rough material of your jeans shielding you from any unnecessary splitters as your back touched the cold, rough wood when you lied down. 

You spoke up after a while of silence, voice low and impersonal as you focused on the gentle swaying of the trees. “If I could go back and spend more time with him I would, y’know?” 

The wood was rough on your elbows as you got up to rest on them, your gaze once again returning to the lycan. It still felt so surreal. “But I can’t. So I just have to make due with what I have left now.” 

You got up without another word, grabbing the basket of fruits and vegetables and moving to make your way back inside. Turning around, you watched as the wolf followed your every move with its eyes intently, a silent goodbye resting on your tongue as the door shut behind you. 

----- 

It’s been a month, and you were adjusting quickly. 

Your routine has stayed fairly the same the entire duration; during the day you would venture out into the forest to collect herbs and spices or sit on the porch underneath the warm sun, while your nights were spent locked in the study with a dull lamp glow illuminating the stained white pages. It was comfortable, you were comfortable.

Surprisingly enough, the lycan would continue to come by everyday. Whether you were taking care of the garden or sketching quietly on the porch-- it would come. At first its presence would slightly bother you, seeing as it would sit in the exact same spot everyday and just stare at you while you worked, but gradually with each passing week you managed to get more relaxed with each other. 

“What do you think?” you said, turning the sketchbook over to show the wolf the portrait sketched on it. The lycan was laying on the porch next to you, head resting between its paws and it’s coat shining underneath the glaring mid-day sun. It wasn’t too hot per say, but you couldn’t imagine the summer heat felt too good on its thick dark coat. 

Lifting its head up the wolf looked at your drawing, a huff passing it’s lips as its tail wagged back and forth slowly against the wood. It’s large paw rested on your thigh as it stretched, a low whine catching your attention as it’s large head moved to rest on your lap. You smiled, setting down your sketchbook and pencil next to you before entangling your fingers gently in the fur of its back. 

It was still kinda shocking how fast your relationship blossomed. One day the lycan refused to be more than a couple feet away from you and growled whenever so much as raised a hand to touch it, the next it whined if you didn’t want it’s head in your lap. If you were being completely honest with yourself you didn’t know how to feel about this. 

There was still somebody in that wolf, thinking, watching, feeling--and you didn’t know their name or who they were. Hell, you didn’t even know if it was a man or a woman. 

Sighing, you closed your eyes for a short moment. You felt wrong for looking, truly you did, but curiosity managed to get the best of you in the moment. 

It was a man. 

You didn’t know if that made you feel better or not. 

-------

The next day wasn’t like anything you expected. 

Your morning had started off slow, an awful crick in your neck from falling asleep with your head in a book for the third time in a row that week. It was approximately noon when you got out of the shower, feeling more refreshed than you were an hour prior and a cup of freshly made peppermint tea warming your hands. The only plans you had for today were to get more ginger root and yarrow to help with some of the dull pain from your cut, the wound healing up nicely so far--though you suspected there will be a scar left behind. 

When you had exited your cabin you had expected to see the lycan sitting waiting for you like he always does, but the spot he had claimed as his was cold and empty. You tried not to overthink it too much, albeit you were a little disappointed at the lack of company as you weaved through the trees. 

It was about an hour since you had first left, sweat started to bead at your forehead as you looked for the herbs you needed quickly. The leaves from the trees above helped shelter some of the sweltering heat and provide some shade, though your clothes still continued to stick to your body unpleasantly. 

There was an uncomfortable feeling steadily creeping up your neck, your hands stilling on the forest ground as you strained your ears to listen for anything that may be off. Behind you there was suddenly a low growl, the sound of stray twigs snapping under immense weight. 

You had thought that it was just your lycan friend--you’ve yet to actually learn his name yet, you were still working on it--fooling around and trying to scare you like he used to do. Smiling, you stood up and turned around. 

That was your first mistake. 

Gasping, you stumbled back out of fear. Standing there was a wolf, a fairly large one at that, with muddy red fur and a deranged look in its eyes as it snarled at you. It’s growls got louder as it stalked closer to you, the fur on its back raised and saliva flying from it’s canines as it barked at you in aggression. 

Your heart was beating erratically against your chest, fear coiling around your throat like a snake and tightening so hard it felt like it was hard to breathe. You stepped back, your movements slow and steady in an attempt to not show any signs of aggression--the creature not slowing any signs of backing down as it continued its advancements towards you. 

The wolf lunged at you unexpectedly, it’s jaws snapping a few inches away from your lower stomach and saliva splattering against your thighs. Fear took over as you ran, thorns and branches whipping at your exposed legs and creating blistering marks in their wake. Your lungs burned painfully, the sound of the creature quickly catching up taunting you as you attempted to outrun it. 

You were foolish to think you could outsmart a creature of speed and agility, tears of frustration and fear burning your cheeks as they fell and disappeared on the forest floor. Before you could register what happened there was sharp pain in your leg, your screams piercing the silent forest. 

There was blood. A lot of blood. Your hands shook violently as they touched the cold metal of the bear trap currently hooked in your leg, the pain immeasurable and quickly spreading throughout your entire body with no signs of rest. 

“No, no, no!” you cried, shaking your head violently and attempting to pry the trap off of you. It ended up just causing you more pain, blood dripping from the wound and soaking the dirt below you. 

The growls were back, louder than before as the creature busted through the foliage with a murderous look in its eyes. It’s barks and snarls ridiculing you as you hysterically tried to rip the metal off, hot tears running down your face and your cries getting lost in the ruckus. 

 The thought of dying out here, alone, broke your heart. 

Everything felt distant, you could feel yourself passing out. The only thing you could discern from your quickly blurring vision was two large figures on the ground, fighting and snarling through a clash of bared teeth. You couldn’t hear anything through the ringing in your ears, the sickening crunch of bone being the last thing to echo in your head as your chest heaved slowly and your fingers turned cold. You watched drearily as the figure pinned underneath the other fall limp against the ground. 

The last thing that entered your peripheral before you blacked out was glowing red eyes surrounded by inky darkness.

---------- 

  It was quiet, the only sounds in the room being your gentle breathing and the rough scratching of a pen against paper. Your fists clenched around the softness of the blankets swathed around you, the sun harsh against your eyes as you blearily opened them and grimaced at the awful, stale taste in your mouth. A headache was consistently pounding against your head, mingling with the dulled pain coming from your leg that made you whimper quietly. 

“You’re awake,” somebody said beside you, their voice loud in the otherwise quiet room. There was suddenly a warm hand on your forehead, feeling for a temperature briefly before it left just as quick as it came. “I’m glad. You’ve been out for awhile now.” 

Panic struck your entire being at the foreign voice, your eyes squinting as you attempted to look at the source through your blurry vision. It was a man, he had a somewhat baby face which was accompanied by broad shoulders hidden underneath a plain black t-shirt; his dark hair falling over the worried look on his face when he leaned over the bed to look at you. 

“Who-who are you,” you asked, your voice wavering as you attempted to back away from the stranger. There was a sharp pain in your leg as you quickly sat up, moving to push yourself against the corner of the bed in an attempt to get as far away from him as possible. “Where am I?”  

“Calm down, it’s okay,” He spoke, his voice gentle as he raised his hands to not show any harm. His eyebrows were furrowed underneath his hair, a deep frown on his lips as he moved his gaze down to your leg that was hidden beneath the sheets. “My name is Seokjin, I’ve been helping you recover from your injuries the last few days. Do you remember what happened?” 

Shaking your head, you wrung your hands in the blankets uncomfortably as you tried to process the situation. Your memory was extremely foggy, bits and pieces at the forefront of your mind but nothing too significant. A ll you could remember was the feeling of the wind burning your lungs, how the tears felt as they burned your face and the absolute fear that consumed your entire body.

You stared at the door a couple feet away from you, thinking of a way to get as far away from this person as possible. Realistically you knew that even if you tried to run you wouldn’t get that far, your injury preventing you from doing so. That couldn’t stop you from trying, though. 

“Please don’t do anything you’re going to regret,” Seokjin sighed, following your line of sight. When he looked back at you his eyes were a vivid shade of gold, almost like the wild dandelions that were growing near the edge of your cabin, your own widening in shock. 

You remembered reading somewhere about the varying eye colors of lycans and what they signified, the different ranks present in a pack. Contrary to popular belief a pack’s dynamic wasn’t based on the submissiveness of those considered to be weaker or inferior, rather it was a system built on the caring nature of a single lycan’s personality-- if they were born leaders or natural caretakers at heart.

 Omegas were blessed with yellow eyes that resembled the early morning sun and are generally the most caring, often given the weighty responsibility of caring for young pups or tending to the injured. Betas had eyes the color of the deep ocean and are regarded as the peacekeepers, the safety net. They’re calm and do most of the logical thinking. 

Then there’s Alphas. They have taunting red eyes and are the primary leaders, usually bigger and stronger than the rest of the pack to make sure everybody stays in line instead of going awry or rogue. Their main responsibility is to keep the pack safe, to lead. 

“Y-you’re a lycan?” you whispered, voice shaky. Admittedly you felt more pacified than you did a few moments prior, though you still didn’t completely trust this lycan or his intentions. 

Unsurprisingly Seokjin didn’t seem shocked by your knowing, a small smile tugging at his lips as he slowly lowered his arms to rest them by his side.

“What happened to me.” you demanded quietly. 

The lycan sighed, a distraught look on his face as a hand came up to comb through his hair. To be truthful, Seokjin didn’t know exactly what to say to that. He felt it wasn’t fair for him to speak on it further without his brother being present, afterall he wasn’t there when the incident occurred and he knew how much the other wanted to see you when you woke up. 

“I think that it’s better if Jeongguk explains that to you.” He eventually spoke, voice low and a knowing look in his eyes. You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion at his reply. 

“Who?” 

“You’ll recognize him when you see him.” With that Seokjin left the room, closing the door softly behind him. You could hear his footsteps quickly fading as he left, your shoulders falling with a sigh you didn’t realize you were holding. It was quiet for a while after that, the soft chirping of birds outside seeping through the open window next to you and the atmosphere almost serene in nature. 

Curiosity managed to get the better of you, your hands gripping the blankets covering your leg as you carefully untucked it, grimacing at what you saw. Your entire lower leg was tore up, a couple stitches suturing close some of the worse ones near your ankle and a series of smaller cuts and blisters sweltering above them. Everything was covered in some form on semi-translucent film, yarrow you believed it was, and was extremely tender to the touch as you gently prodded the areas with your fingers. 

“You shouldn’t be touching that.” 

Whipping your head around at the sound of the voice, your eyes quickly landing on a figure standing shyly in the doorway. He was young, that much was obvious, no older than twenty with hair the same shade as coal and big, doe eyes that stared at you in earnest. Jeongguk, you would believe Seokjin said his name was.

 You didn’t speak as he stepped further into the room, nervousness dripping from his form like honey as he opened and closed his mouth in an attempt to form words. 

“I’m sorry,” he eventually let out, eyes downcast on the polished wooden floor beneath his feet. “This shouldn’t have happened. I’m sorry.” 

Opting to stay silent you watched the boy from beneath a curious, questioning gaze. You were fairly certain you didn’t recognize his face from anywhere, but you could feel a sense of familiarity between the two of you.

 He kept his face down, hidden away from your scrutinizing gaze but you could still see his eyes turn from their normal dark brown to a deep cherry wine color at his obviously distraught emotional state. 

You could recognize those eyes anywhere, no matter what happened. It was the lycan that visited you every day, the one you befriended and grew to trust. You felt more at ease than you did before. 

Shifting on the bed, you sat up before speaking. “Do you know where am I, Jeongguk?” 

If he was shocked at the sound of his name passing through your lips he didn’t show it, opting to shift slightly closer to the bed where you were situated. You could see the apprehensiveness apparent on his face, worried about how you would react to the information he was eventually going to give you. 

“You’re in my home, we brought you here after the attack.” 

You nodded, furrowing your eyebrows as you processed his words.

“About that,” you whispered, nervous and unsure of how to word your question properly. “What exactly happened that day, Jeongguk?” 

Jeongguk sighed, sitting down on the edge of the bed without thinking of how you would react and burying his face in his hands. To be honest, he felt awful about what happened. It was his fault, their fault. 

“Recently there were issues with a rogue intruding on our territory,” He began, his eyes solely focused on the birch flooring. “We were out patrolling the borders when I managed to catch his scent.” 

From there Jeongguk explained everything that occurred, sparing you some of the more gory details of the altercation he had with the lone wolf at his rather unexpected arrival, stopping periodically to gauge your reaction. It felt odd having somebody explain to you what happened to your own body, the memories still buried beneath the heaviness of shock and denial. Maybe that was for the best, you thought.

“I’m sorry.” 

Furrowing your eyebrows you moved to look at the boy, your mind still reeling as you placed the pieces together. “This isn’t your fault.” 

“But it is!” He abruptly stood up, burying his hands in his hair and his eyes shifting. “I-I should have been there, with you. We should have driven the rogue out before anything like this could happen.” 

Both of you stayed silent after that.

Technically he was right, if he had gotten the rogue lycan off his territory none of this would have happened, you wouldn’t be lying here injured and confused. But you also knew deep down he did everything he could to prevent it. 

-------- 

A few days have passed since you woke up, your leg felt significantly better than it had in the beginning and the swelling was greatly reduced after each night. Jeongguk visited you every morning and stayed a couple hours to help keep you entertained, bringing a blank notebook and some pencils with him as you two drew to pass the time. Sometimes you talked, sometimes you didn’t. But you were comfortable.

Seokjin would come in to check on you and your injury at least two times a day, washing it with cold water to get rid of any dirt that may cause an infection and replacing the yarrow treatment before bandaging it up again. 

“Where did you learn so much about medicine?” you asked one day, watching as Seokjin finished up wrapping your leg with piqued interest. 

He smiled, standing up from where he was sitting on the edge of the bed next to you and gathering up his supplies. The clothes he was wearing today were rather simple, a loose white shirt tucked into black ripped jeans. He looked good, you thought. 

“Il sung, your grandfather, taught me actually,” there was a fond look on his face as he spoke, his fingers stilling on the bowl of yarrow he used to soak your leg a couple moments prior.

“Were you close?” 

Seokjin nodded, looking at you with golden eyes from beneath his lashes. You reminded him so much of Il sung that it hurt, the look in your eyes as you spoke to him and your rather gentle disposition almost an exact copy. 

“Very.” 

--------

It’s been a week now, and you were getting considerably restless. In the entire duration you’ve been staying here you haven’t left the room once; there was a bathroom across from your bed and food was brought to you regularly by either Seokjin or Jeongguk, so you never had a reason to leave. But now that was going to change. 

Swinging your legs gently over the bed, you pushed the heavy blankets off of you and carefully made your way to the door. The wood was relatively cold against your bare feet, the obnoxiously oversized t-shirt Jeongguk had given you to wear after you took a shower brushed against your black sweats, a slight limp in your leg present. 

It was silent when you first stepped out. There were a couple other doors next to yours, all of which were closed and locked with a staircase leading down to the lower floor. Your hand held against the railing as you carefully limped down the steps, observing how everything was engrossed in a sheet of darkness with the absence of the lights being turned on. 

There was nobody in the main room from what you could tell, nor the open kitchen that was located in front of a rather large sliding glass window overlooking the backyard. The cabin was relatively modern, the walls a light birch color and the flooring darkly tinted; it felt similar to your own home, a fact that made you feel more comfortable. 

What captured your attention the most was that it was too quiet, too desolate. You knew that at least two lycans lived here, Seokjin and Jeongguk, so there had to be more hiding in the shadows somewhere. Wolves run in a pack rather than alone, so the only question was where they were. 

Moving from the kitchen to the main area, you smiled at the feeling of your feet coming in contact with the fluffy rug laid out on the floor, the material soft and warm against your bruised soles. There were a couple pictures hanging on the walls to add some decoration, but not too many as you looked around. Turning to observe more of the living area, you raised your eyebrows at what you saw. 

There was a wolf laying on the couch, a heavy blanket covering most of its body as its vivid blue eyes stared lazily at you. It had earthy brown fur, not as dark as Jeongguk’s but not that light either, cream white and tawny decorating around its snout, chest and one of its ears. You recognized it from the picture sitting above your fireplace mantle back at home. 

“Hi,” you smiled, a little put off at the prolonged eye contact it insisted on making. No matter how many lycans you surround yourself with, you’ll never get over how intimidating their eyes are. 

The wolf seemed to perk up at the sound of your voice, getting up and stretching lazily before excitedly bounding over to you. It was tall, reaching up to the middle of your stomach in height with a slightly lanky but muscular build.

 It’s snout was immediately buried in your stomach when it got close enough, sniffing and wagging its tail almost like an oversized dog. You giggled at the feeling of it’s tongue against your bare skin, it’s tongue rough against your navel as it stuck its head underneath your shirt. It was a little too friendly--you almost forgot there was actually a person in that wolf’s body instead of just an animal. 

“I see you’ve met Taehyung.” 

Turning to look at the source of the voice, disbelief took over your features at what, moreso who, you saw. Perhaps you should have seen it coming, and in all honesty you think deep down you did. You just wonder how many other surprises are out there waiting for you at this point. 

“Namjoon?” 

He flashed you a dimpled smile in reply, placing the grocery bags he was carrying in his hands onto the kitchen island. His silver blonde hair was covering his forehead, a little longer than the last time you saw him but overall nothing really changed. A couple of others came strolling in after him, their hands full with varying other items and smiles stretching their faces as they laughed at something you were unaware of. 

Jeongguk came in next, his smile immediately fading at the sight of you and Taehyung. His eyes changed to their blood red color, glaring at the wolf in front of you and the rather friendly position both of you were in. 

“Back off Tae.” He growled lowly, rolling his eyes at the smug huff that came out of the Beta’s mouth. Taehyung was testing his limits and he knew it. 

Either way the wolf complied and stepped back, the air suddenly cold against your stomach where the immense heat of his head used to be. Seokjin came in last, mumbling under his breath about something you didn’t care to strain your ears to find out, his eyes widening at the sight of you.

“What the hell are you doing out of bed?” Seokjin stammered, dropping the bags he had in his hands and quickly rushing towards your side. He rolled up the leg of your sweats to check on your injury, making sure none of the stitches were pulled in your little endeavor out of your room. 

“Seokjinn,” you whined, trying your best to balance on one leg as the lycan in question examined the other. “I was sick of being cooped up in the room all day, I needed to get out for a little bit.” 

Standing up from his crouched position, Seokjin sighed as he gave you a disapproving look. He had his hands on his hips like a scolding mother, the imagery in your head making you smile. 

“Do you understand how dangerous that could be if you pulled one of your stitches coming down the steps?”

 As bad as you felt for doing so, you completely tuned out Seokjin’s voice. You didn’t feel bad for leaving the room without his permission first, and you weren’t going to let him make you think so either, even though you knew that he was only scolding you out of the wellness in his heart. 

Your attention quickly shifted to a door that was opening on the second floor, Seokjin’s voice little more than white nose as a very sleepy looking man soon came into view. It was Yoongi, you remembered his name being, his head of black hair a mess atop his head and his clothes in disarray as he made his way down the steps. 

“Wow Yoongi, way to look presentable for guests,” One of the men you didn’t recognize taunted, laughing when the other flipped him off. He had light blonde hair and a wide smile, a little intimidating but an otherwise welcoming aura to him. 

You and Yoongi made brief eye contact as he passed into the main room, his eyes flashing blue quickly in an intimidating glare as he sat down on the couch.  

“Well since everybody is here,” Namjoon began, his voice capturing everybody’s attention in a matter of seconds. Even Jeongguk looked up from where he was stuffing his face with a sandwich you didn’t even know where he got. “I think we’re due for some introductions.” 

You soon found out that the man who patronized Yoongi was named Hoseok, his bright smile catching you slightly off guard when he directed it at you for the first time. There was another, Jimin his name was, a little short and quiet with chocolate brown hair that was parted in the middle but he has a nice, gentle smile and a good heart from what you could tell. 

-------

Later that evening you found yourself sitting on the couch watching T.V with Taehyung. Seokjin had made dinner for everybody about an hour prior, luckily he hadn’t made you return back to your room pending your full recovery so you had a chance to really get to know everybody. 

You had become surprisingly comfortable with them pretty quick, helping put the groceries and other purchases from their once a month trip to the city where they belonged while making conversation. Everyone was nice to you, even Yoongi. 

Taehyung had refused to shift back for reasons unknown to you, his head heavy in your lap as you ran your fingers through his soft fur but you didn’t complain. You could hear him whine when your fingers stopped petting him, a soft chuckle leaving your lips at the sound. In the short time you knew him, you could tell he was just attention starved and affection rather than a big scary wolf. 

The sun had set quickly thereafter, the day quickly bleeding into the night as you finally felt the effects of the day wearing you out. Namjoon, Jeongguk and Yoongi had left somewhere into the woods about an hour ago, for what reason you didn’t really know but you didn’t feel like questioning them at the time, trusting it was important. 

--------

Jeongguk groaned, the sound of his bones cracking back into place as he shifted sounded brutal even to his own ears. It was well into the night now, they had just gotten back from patrolling the borders for the third time in only a week. Ever since your attack he’s been paranoid about something like that happening again, his nights filled with sleepless regret as your attack replayed in his head like a bad dream. He tried not to think about it too much as he quickly pulled the clothes he left out on the porch over his naked body. 

“You coming?” Yoongi called out to him in a gruff voice, staring at him from his position in the doorway of the sliding glass window. The moonlight shone lightly over his shirtless pale figure. 

“Yea, in a bit.”

The black haired boy simply nodded, shutting the door behind him with a soft click. Jeongguk just needed time to think, to try to gather his thoughts before returning back inside and being forced to face his insecurities and fears. What happened that night, should have never happened. He was supposed to be there to protect you and he wasn’t, that was something he would never forgive himself for. 

A couple minutes passed before he sighed, finally moving to go back inside. His eyes immediately fell on your sleeping form, the brightly flashing colors of the T.V reflecting off your face beautifully as a smile rested upon his lips. It was the same smile that immediately was replaced by a deep scowl at the sight of the lycan currently resting on your lap. 

“You’re really pushing it, Tae,” Jeongguk growled, his fists clenching at his sides. Taehyung’s blue eyes only smugly stared at him in response, rolling over onto his back on the couch with his head still in your lap. 

“Go.” 

Taehyung growled at him quietly in response before lazily getting off the couch, the sounds of his nails padding against the wood echoing in the halls before it was replaced by the gruesome crunching of bones as they rearranged themselves back in place. You shivered at the sudden absence of the wolf’s warmth, your face scrunching up as you curled in on yourself on the couch. Jeongguk’s heart swelled at the sight. 

Moving to turn the T.V off, the room was engulfed in silence and darkness as he came back to where you were resting, gently hooking his arms around your back and knees to bring you up to his chest. He walked up the stairs to where your room was located, placing you on the bed softly before carefully tucking you in. 

He was falling, faster than he’d like to and worse than he expected.

-------- 

 The sun was annoyingly bright against your eyes, your cheeks warm and flushed as they stretched in a wide smile while you watched the lycans interact with each other in the backyard below. You could see two wolves wrestling in the dirt a couple feet away, what you recognized as Jimin’s slightly smaller form pinning Taehyung beneath his paws as his exaggerated yelps caught your ears. Namjoon and Yoongi were sitting on the porch, their fur rustling slightly in the wind as they quietly observed. You didn’t know where the other two were. 

It’s been two weeks since your attack, and two weeks since you’ve arrived at the pack house. Your injury was pretty much healed by now, minus a couple cuts and some bruises that were an ugly mix of green and purple, but Seokjin said you were pretty much ready to go back home whenever you were feeling up to it. You were extremely happy at the news, missing the feeling of fading white pages beneath your fingers and the wet soil on your knees as you took care of the garden. 

The only issue you faced now was how you were going to tell Jeongguk about it. 

Both of you have grown significantly closer, between the sparing glaces and the way your heart beats uncomfortably against your chest when one of the other pack members so much as mentions him, you would go as far as saying you fell for the lycan. 

Sometimes the two of you would spend the nights together on his bed talking about nothing and everything at the same time from dusk till dawn, other times he would lead you to a secret lake in the early morning just to watch as the sky bleeds into stunning hues of crimson and rose right in front of your very eyes. 

It was amazing, he was amazing. And that scared you. So much. 

These last few years of your life have been filled with so much pain and loneliness, you don’t know if you could handle giving up possibly the best thing you’ve ever had. Jeongguk was something that came hurtling at you out of nowhere like a bullet, ripping through your chest and leaving you scrambling at each breath. He was pain and pleasure coexisting in one, something you didn’t know if you could handle at this point in your life. 

The sound of the shower turning off managed to take you out of your thoughts, steam coming out of the bathroom as Jeongguk exited, roughly toweling his hair in an attempt to dry it and his sweats hanging low on his hips. He was in there for almost an hour in an attempt to sate his nerves, or more specifically after you yelled at him for pacing so long you were worried he would put a dent in the flooring. It gave you some much needed time to think. 

“Hey,” Jeongguk whispered, sitting down next to you on the bed and following your gaze to watch the rest of his pack below with lidded vermillion eyes. 

“Hey,” your eyes drifted down to his bare chest, your fingers reaching out on their own accord to touch the flattened scars that were littered there. They were slightly pink, more flesh toned and obviously old. The boy was quiet as he rested his hand on top yours, his skin incredibly warm and his heartbeat quickening beneath your palm. 

You took a deep breath before finally opening up to him. 

“Y’know, earlier today Seokjin said I was pretty much healed,” you spoke, linking your fingers together with the lycans quietly. You refused to look at his face, solely focusing on your entwined hands still resting above his heart. “He said that I can go home.” 

Jeongguk was quiet at that, his grip around your palm tightening slightly. At the mention of the word ‘home’ he faltered, a sharp pain in chest as he felt his heart break slightly. He knew it was selfish for him to want you to stay here with him, to live with him, to be with him--but that didn’t stop him from desiring it.

“When are you leaving?” Jeongguk whispered, keeping his eyes on your intertwined hands. The look on his face and the sound of his voice made your heart hurt. 

“Taehyung said he’d help me get ready in the morning,” your voice was quiet, your palm suddenly cold when the lycan got off the bed in haste. He stood in the center of your room, deathly quiet as he raised a hand to thread through his damp hair. “Make sure I get back home safely.”

His eyes seemed to glow in the sudden darkness of your room, the sun quickly retreating back into the horizon while the moon came to take its place in the sky. He didn’t know what to do, what to think. He knew he could still visit you like he used to, sit with his head in your lap and the feeling of your fingers combing through the tangles in his fur with the afternoon sun on his face, but he also knew deep down things wouldn’t be the same. 

 You were shocked when he came back, his palms warm against your cheeks as he looked into your eyes as he pleaded, “Stay here, with me. We can take care of you, I can take care of you. You wouldn’t be alone anymore.” 

Tears welled up in your eyes, lip quivering and your voice cracking as you looked at the desperate look on his face. “I-I can’t. You know that.” 

You couldn’t leave behind your life and everything that was entrusted to you to live with a pack of lycans, some of whom you’ve only known for a short two weeks. It was crazy, and if it was the full moon influencing his actions you didn’t know but the pleading look in his eyes broke your heart. 

 “I should go then,” Jeongguk dropped his hands from your face, backing up towards the door. He was looking everywhere but you.“The pack is waiting for me.” 

You followed him as he made his way down the steps, slower than the lycan as you attempted to catch up to him. The attempt was futile, his hands were already gripping the handle to the sliding glass door and exiting before you could even make it past the main room. “Jeongguk, wait!”  

The rest of the pack was waiting outside, already shifted and waiting impatiently as they stared at both of you. He ignored your voice, untying his sweats and pulling them down his legs as he got ready for the run. You turned around to give him some privacy, a deep flush covering your cheeks as you jumped at the sudden sound of bones shortening and elongating, cracking and rearranging as he shifted. 

It wasn’t as quick and harmless as it appeared in movies or shows, the process agonizing long as it hurt your ears to listen to. 

You only turned back around once it was silent, watching with glistening eyes as Namjoon led the rest of the pack into the darkness of the forest ahead of you. The pale moonlight of the full moon reflected off of Jeongguk’s coat, making him appear almost a dark blue color as he slowed to a stop behind everyone else. 

He turned back to look at you, ears lowered against his head as you both just looked at each other. You didn’t know if he could see the tears staining your cheeks or the solemn look in your eyes, but if he did he didn’t acknowledge them as he ran to catch up with his brothers deep in the trees. 

----------

The entire house seemed as if it was abandoned. There was no Seokjin yelling at one of the other boys for messing around in the kitchen while he was cooking, or Taehyung and Hoseok wrestling on the main room floor over whoever gets the last strip of bacon. The worst was the absence of Jeongguk’s gentle breathing as he laid next to you, sprawled out on your bed after a long night of talking as the gentle rise and fall of his chest lulled you back to sleep. It was too quiet, and you hated it. 

It was almost six in the morning when you finally saw the first break in the treeline. The sun hasn’t come out yet, the sky still bathed in darkness but from what you could make out there were only six wolves tiredly trotting back to the house as opposed to seven. Furrowing your eyebrows, you lifted your head from where it was resting on top of your folded arms, recognizing each lycan almost immediately and noticing that the only one missing was Jeongguk. 

By the time you made your way to the bottom of the steps the pack was already shifting, their exhausted groans reaching your ears as they pulled their clothes on with tired, battered breaths. The lycan you were looking for was nowhere in sight.

“Hey, Y/N,” you jumped slightly at the feeling of a hand on your skin, turning around to see Seokjin looking at you with a worried expression on his face. “What’s wrong?” 

Confusion and worry laced your features as you looked around, your hope of expecting to see the black haired boy the more you searched dwindling. “Jeongguk, where is he?” 

Seokjin only sighed in response, a look on his face you didn’t feel like acknowledging as his hand squeezed the flesh of your arm comfortingly. He opened his mouth to speak, “I think we should go back inside to talk-” 

“No!” You pulled back from his grip, staring at him in disbelief as he attempted to shut down your inquiry. The others were looking at the both of you with empathetic gazes, making you feel gross and exposed. “Why isn’t he here, Seokjin? I need to talk to him.” 

“We don’t know where he is,” Namjoon spoke lightly, his hand resting in the middle of Seokjin’s bare back as he slowly walked up from behind him. His eyes were gentle as he looked at you, their intimidating red color not doing much to help calm you. “He’ll be back, Y/N, I promise. He just needed time to think.” 

Jeongguk needed time away because of you. You didn’t know how to react to that, your eyes downcast as the older Omega gently led you back inside. There was no protest this time, the exhaustion of everything finally catching up to you as settled to retiring yourself back to bed.

--------

Later that night you found yourself in the kitchen. It was dark, almost midnight the last time you checked, a bowl of barely touched cereal in front of you as you let yourself get lost in your thoughts. 

Seokjin had come in about half an hour prior to talk with you, not necessarily about anything specific but you knew what he implied beneath all his questions and comments. It helped a little bit to discuss everything you were feeling with somebody who actually listened, and Seokjin had a natural ability to cheer you up.

You looked up at the sound of footsteps, sighing at the sight of Yoongi quickly coming into view. It wasn’t like you disliked the lycan, you two just didn’t have the strongest connection with each other yet and if you were being honest you were slightly intimidated by the black haired boy. He was quiet, always observing and barely talking. 

Nobody spoke, not that you were surprised, the sound of your metal spoon clinking against the bowl sharp against the otherwise silent room. Yoongi stood with his back against the fridge, a bottle of water held tight between his nimble, pale fingers as he watched you with an intimidating gaze. 

“We need to talk,” He suddenly spoke, moving to rest his forearms on the kitchen island. “About Jeongguk.” 

You knew this was coming. Between Yoongi and Seokjin, you wouldn’t be surprised if the whole pack knew about what happened between you and Jeongguk. That doesn’t mean you want to speak to them about it, though.

“I didn’t do anything wrong.” your voice was quiet, your eyes remaining downcast on the now soggy bowl of cereal. 

“You’re right, you didn’t.” You could feel his eyes on you, watching your face for any shift in reaction, no matter how miniscule. This is the most you’ve ever heard him speak in the two weeks you’ve known him. “But Jeongguk, he’s-he’s young. He’s sensitive.” 

There was nothing to say, nothing you could say. You knew that all of this was coming from the good of heart, but it felt like you were getting blamed for something that was out of your control. 

“I know you’re still slightly new at this,” you scoffed at that, tonguing the inside of your cheek in frustration. It sounded like he was placing the blame on you, like it was your fault Jeongguk lashed out and didn’t come back. It wasn’t though, and you weren’t going to let him, or anybody else, make it seem like it was. “But things are different for us. We don’t feel things the same way you do, we don’t understand things like you do.” 

“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” you mumbled, pushing away the bowl of cereal. 

“Wolves mate for life, Y/N.” Yoongi spoke, his voice uncharacteristically soft as he looked at the upset look on your face. “And Jeongguk already fell for you.” 

--------- 

Jeongguk didn’t come back for a week. 

The wait for him was agonizingly long, not just for you but for the rest of the pack as well. By the fourth day you could see the nervousness apparent on the other’s faces, and then by the fifth you could hear the arguments in the other room and the tiny whispers at dinner. You couldn’t help but feel like this was your fault, the guilt constantly eating away at your stomach and making you feel sick. 

You knew Jeongguk could easily take care of himself out there, but that didn’t stop you from worrying about him. 

You managed to hear him before you saw him. 

It was getting pretty late, the sun quickly setting into the horizon as you sat in the main room. Everybody else had already retired back into their rooms for the night, leaving you alone as you mindlessly drew in an old sketchbook Jeongguk had given you the first few nights you were here.

 He obviously didn’t want to be heard, immediately backtracking as soon as his paw made a creak in the wood flooring of the porch. 

“Jeongguk?” you whispered, setting your stuff down on the couch before slowly getting up. The lycan looked at you with an unreadable expression on his face, ears pinned on his head as he quickly retreated back in the forest.

 Your bare feet scratched against the harsh forest floor as you followed after him, the clean clothes one of the boys left out each night in case he came back one night in your hands as you quickly caught up to him. He wasn’t running, he was hardly even jogging, instead walking at a leisurely pace ahead of you with his nose held high. 

He stopped behind a tree to shift, the sounds making your nose curl in disgust as you dropped the clothes on the floor next to him before turning around to give him privacy. You could hear the sound of him pulling his pants up, facing him again once you heard him start to walk away. 

“Where have you been, Jeongguk?” you questioned, your anger quickly rising as he made it a point to stay silent. Fresh scratches and bruises littered his sides and shoulders, the sight making you even more upset than before. 

“What happened, Guk? Why are you all beat up?” your anger was quickly replaced with worry, tears welling in your eyes at the sight of him. His standoffish attitude was really starting to affect you, you hadn’t even had a chance to properly see his face as he kept his back turned towards you but you would bet it looked just as worse as the rest of him. 

“Everybody was worried about you,” tears were falling down your cheeks openly now, the pent up emotions finally making an appearance. Your voice was shaky and low as you confessed, “I was worried about you.”

Jeongguk stopped suddenly at that, his fists clenching at his sides as he hung his head. You carefully made your way up to him, your cold palm against his hot skin making him jump slightly as you touched the center of his back. His face wasn’t as bad as you expected, a small cut on his cheek being the only thing you could see as you stepped in front of him. 

“Did you feel anything between us?” He looked vulnerable as he asked you that question, nothing like the big bad Alpha that you first met all those months ago. The thought made you chuckle, your hand reaching up to softly stroke the cut on his face. “Anything at all?” 

“Of course I did, Guk.” you smiled, your thumb tracing indistinguishable shapes on his cheek as you looked into his eyes. 

“Then why won’t you stay with me?” 

You sighed, closing your eyes for a brief moment before reopening them. He was young, younger than you at least, so you knew you couldn’t blame him for not understanding. “It’s not that simple, Jeongguk you know that.”  

The lycan nodded, the once hopeful look in his eye dying as he attempted to take a step back away from your touch. You grabbed him before he could, both of your hands cupping his cheeks as you forced him to look at you. 

“But we will find a way,” you smiled at him, your heart fluttering at the confused expression on his face. “I’m not going to leave you, Guk. Never.”

You intended to keep true to your statement, there had to be a way to figure this all out. No situation was purely black and white, and you’ll find the shades of gray in between no matter what. 

The feeling of his lips was incredibly warm as he pushed them against yours, slightly chapped but otherwise still soft. The amount of emotion he put into kissing you wasn’t anything you felt before, the feeling of his tongue sweeping against the plumpness of your lower lip and the heat from his body sending butterflies in your stomach. 

His hands fell down to your hips, pushing up your t-shirt to feel the softness of your stomach beneath his palms with battered breaths before pushing you back. You gasped at the feeling of the rough tree bark against you, his body pinning you further back as he continued exploring your mouth with his own. 

You pulled back slightly, breathing heavily and your lips red and plump with saliva. Jeongguk smirked at the sight, his thumb coming up to pull down your bottom lip with the tip of his finger before moving his mouth to the sensitive skin of your neck. The elongated point of his incisors scrapped lightly against your pulse, making you shudder at the sensation.

This was everything Jeongguk dreamed of; the feeling of your soft skin beneath his claws and the innocent look in your eyes as you stared up at him. The things he’d do to you as you lied beneath him, baring your neck in submission to your Alpha as pumped you full of his seed in hopes of putting his pups in your belly. He shuddered at the thought. 

The strands of his hair were silky beneath your fingertips, gasping and tugging at the roots as he bit down on a certain area of your neck that made your core clench. You didn’t know if he could smell your quickly rising arousal, but judging by the smirk you felt against your lips as he kissed his way back up your neck proved he did. 

“Guk,” you whispered, whimpering at the feeling of his palm applying pressure lightly against your navel. “Are we-?” 

Jeongguk opened his eyes, his hands stilling immediately as he moved his face in front of yours. “Do you want to?” 

“I do.” You nodded, moving your hands from his hair to his bare back, mindful of the bruises and cuts already there. The lycan continued his ministrations, pulling your shirt above your head quickly before making his way down your clavicle. You were hyper aware of the fact you were outside, mindful of anything, or anyone, who may be watching or listening. 

“So pretty,” Jeongguk murmured into your skin, biting and sucking marks into your breast. You whimpered at the feeling of his tongue on your nipple, sucking it into his mouth before pulling back and blowing cold air on it. His hands were on your waist, kneading roughly as he pushed his body further against yours. “You don’t understand how long I’ve wanted this.”

“Me too,” Your voice was breathy, your hands reached down to palm him slowly over his jeans as his whimpers of pleasure sent waves of arousal through your body. He pulled back from your grip, smirking at you as you attempted to reign him back in--your body cold and exposed to anybody who may be watching.

You furrowed your eyebrows as you watched him pick up his discarded hoodie, laying it out on the forest floor before walking back over to you. He led you back towards it slowly, his mouth back on yours as he licked into your mouth and his hand wrapped around your throat possessively. 

The fabric was soft against your knees as he carefully pushed you down, the feeling of his warm hand splayed around your neck making you dizzy in pleasure. 

“Guk,” you whispered, kissing one of the bruises that were blossoming on his side gently. He moved his hand from your neck to hair, tightening it in a fist as you unbuttoned his jeans, pushing down the denim to expose his cock to your hungry eyes.  

Jeongguk was big, flushed red at the tip with veins running along the skin, hot and heavy in your hand as you gripped him. Your mouth watered slightly at the sight, pushing your thighs together before licking a long stripe from the base all the way to the head. His groans made your core clench, shifting desperately for friction. 

Your lips wrapped around his cock, stretching around his girth as your tongue wrapped around the tip and dipped into the slit. The lycan moaned loudly, his fist tightening in your hair and tugging you down slowly. 

“‘S this okay?” Jeongguk asked quietly, whimpering at the feeling of you humming an affirmative around him. You worked on getting him slick with spit, a steady rhythm starting to form the more you bobbed your head up and down. 

Gagging slightly at the pressure at the back of your throat you went as far down as you could, tears bubbling in your eyes as you relished in the pleasured moans coming from his mouth. You could feel your core clenching around nothing, the wetness between your thighs making you shift uncomfortably at the emptiness. 

Pulling off with a pop saliva dripped down your chin, your hands spreading the wetness on his shaft as you looked up at him with fucked out eyes. You felt his hand wrap lightly around your throat again, the pressure intoxicating as you pushed you to lie down on the ground. 

Jeongguk’s mouth was back on yours as soon as your back touched the fabric, his forearms caged around your head. You moaned at the feeling of one of his hands coming down to rub your core over the thin material of your leggings, hips rising of their own accord to chase after the feeling.

“Mmm, you’re so wet, baby,” The lycan purred, biting down on your bottom lip with one of his incisors. It stung, you could taste the iron as blood seeped from the cut and into your mouth. Jeongguk growled at the sight, taking the chance to lick into your mouth and taste the blood on your tongue with his own. 

The feeling was intoxicating, your head swimming with pleasure as you felt Jeongguk’s rough fingers dip beneath your clothes and stroke your bare core. You haven’t been this intimate with anybody in a long time, so you were extremely sensitive to all his advances. 

“Fuck,” you whimpered, wincing at the slight burn as he inserted a fingered into you slowly. You haven’t had anything inside of you for so long, welcoming the pain that came with it.

“Gonna stretch you out nice and good,” Jeongguk whispered in your ear, biting on the soft flesh there. “Make sure you’re ready to take my fat cock, isn’t that right baby?” 

You nodded at his words, grinding your hips onto his fingers as the tightening feeling in your lower stomach kept building. His words were affecting you more than you thought, your fluids dripping down his digits and soaking your leggings. 

He hastily got rid of the offending garment, a slight tearing sound reaching your ears as you were left completely bare in front of his hungry eyes. You gasped when you were suddenly flipped over, cheek pressed up against the soft fabric of Jeongguk’s hoodie and your hips pulled high in a rather demeaning, submissive position. 

The sudden feeling of the lycan’s rough tongue on your core made you whimper from pleasure, his rough hands spreading your lips and further exposing you. You flushed deeply in embarrassment at the feeling of your juices leaking down the inside of your thighs, though Jeongguk eagerly lapped them up with no sounds of protest. 

With the pressure on your clit and the fullness of his fingers scissoring deep in your core you couldn’t help it, the budding tightness unravelling as you came onto his tongue. Your body shook lightly, trembling in his grip as you attempted to bite back your moans. 

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” Jeongguk confessed, his mouth glistening with the aftermath of your orgasm. He gave you a little bit to recover before you felt his tip pushing against your entrance, the sensitivity from your previous release making you whimper and recoil slightly. 

His body covered yours as he leaned over you, sandwiching you between the floor and him as he pushed slowly into you inch by inch. He felt so good inside you, hot and pulsing between your thighs with each forward stroke. 

“I’m going to breed you so good, baby,” Jeongguk moaned, linking his fingers with your own as he finally bottomed out in you. “Make you take this knot and put a litter of pups deep in that little womb of yours. Wouldn’t you like that?” 

You nodded, tears welling in your eyes as he pulled all the way out before slamming back in. It hurt, but the pain mingled with the pleasure deliciously--taking everything he was giving you with a stream of satisfied moans. The only thing that managed to distract you from the pleasant fullness of your core was the mention of the word ‘knot’. You didn’t understand what he meant by that, but you also didn’t attempt to evaluate his words as your body jerked forward at the next thrust. 

Your juices were leaking all over Jeongguk’s sweatshirt, staining the fabric and making you flush at the scene when you lowered your head to peer in between your legs. The sight of your lower stomach bulging with the lycan’s cock only made you more wet, your moans and whimpers echoing in the quickly darkening forest. 

Jeongguk took notice of your fascination, moving one of his hands from your hips to palm gently below your navel. It felt better than you thought it would, your knees trembling and threatening to give out from beneath you from the pleasure. He leaned back on his knees from his previous position over you, his other palm warm against your skin as he pushed between your shoulder blades. 

“Harder,” you cried, shutting your eyes at the feeling of another orgasm quickly building. Jeongguk complied, his fingers pushing hard against your clit and relishing in the feeling of your walls squeezing him tightly. 

He was a complete mess, almost as much as you were, your cum sticky on his thighs and sweat plastering his hair to his forehead. The thin strings of your juices connecting you two together made a gross wet noise each time he pulled out, the sounds it made as he pushed back in making him growl in enjoyment. 

Your orgasm hit you like a truck, your vision going black as you shut your eyes at the overwhelming feeling. The oversensitivity made you wince as Jeongguk kept fucking you, slightly pulling away from him before he roughly pulled you back. 

“Almost there, baby,” He whispered, kissing your neck reassuringly. He was almost there, he could feel his stomach tightening with his impending release. “Take it, Y/N. I know you can.” 

Nodding, you continued to moan at the slightly painful feeling. It felt good, so good, tears falling onto your flushed, sweaty cheeks as your body jerked forward with each rub against your walls. 

Something felt wrong, the pressure between your legs was growing and getting tighter with each thrust Jeongguk made inside of you. Paired with the oversensitivity from your two previous orgasms, it hurt to feel stretched out so much. 

“G-guk wait,” you whimpered, clenching your fists around the fabric beneath you as you shut your eyes shut at the pain. “Hurts-” 

“It’s okay, It’s okay,” Jeongguk shushed, brushing your sweaty hair back from your face as he pushed you further to the ground. “You can take my knot, right baby?”

You sighed at the mention of his knot, wondering if this is what he meant by it-- the growing and painful pressure stretching your core to it’s max with no signs of stopping. You trusted Jeongguk, though, and knew he wouldn’t do anything deliberate to hurt you. “I can, yea. I can.” 

The feeling of his cum emptying inside you made you moan, warm against your walls and temporarily distracting you from the pain of his inflating knot. With one last hard thrust you two were locked together, Jeongguk moaning loudly from behind you as he buried his face in the crook of your neck. The scraping of his elongated teeth against your skin made you shiver as he continued to release inside you. 

He slowly rolled the two of you onto your sides once he was finished, gripping the inside of your thigh and holding it up slightly to prevent the two of you from experiencing any unnecessary pain. Looking down at your battered and abused core, you saw Jeongguk’s excess cum leaking from the sides of his knot; wet and sticky on the sides of your thighs. The visual made you flush deeply. 

You were beyond tired, slumping tiredly against the boy as you felt his warm tongue licking your skin. The feeling made you chuckle. “What are you doing?” 

“Grooming you,” Jeongguk mumbled nonchalantly, continuing without hesitation. He swept over your abundance of bite marks and hickeys with the wet muscle, pausing to leave little kisses on each one of them. His palm was heavy as he cupped your stomach protectively. 

“Can I bite you?” 

“Can you what?”

You looked over your shoulder at the boy, taking in his fucked out expression and incredibly flushed cheeks as he stared at you with his intimidating red eyes. He didn’t seem affected by your surprise. 

“Bite you, mark you as mine.” His voice suddenly got quiet, lowering to look at the juncture of your neck and shoulder as he stroked the skin there softly. “Make you my mate.” 

Thinking back to Yoongi’s words, you knew the implications that came with what he said. You also knew that by agreeing to be Jeongguk’s mate, you would have little to no chance of going back to the life you once had. But everything Jeongguk gave you, everything he made you feel wasn’t something you wanted to give up. 

“Okay,” You whispered, closing your eyes before reopening them and giving the boy a small smile. The look on his face was indescribable, your heart beating just a little bit faster as you both looked at each other in happiness. “Okay.” 

His lips were on yours in a second, pushing hard against your own with a smile on his face. You kissed back with the same enthusiasm, his tongue licking the inside of your mouth quickly before he pulled back. 

“It’s going to hurt a bit,” Jeongguk murmured against your lips, gently pushing your face back against the fabric so he could reach your shoulder easily. He kissed the skin of your neck lightly, your pulse hot against his mouth as he gripped your hand, running his thumb along the raised scar there. “Don’t be scared.” 

You didn’t have much time to prepare before there was an immense pain spreading throughout your entire body, your screams of pain disturbing the quiet forest around you. It burned so much, the feeling indescribable as the feeling continued to spread throughout your entire body. His teeth weren’t in there for long, pulling back out after a couple of seconds as you felt blood drip down your back. 

“Hey,” Jeongguk whispered, cupping your cheek in his hand as he pulled your face up to his. You could see the blood staining his face and teeth, dripping down his neck and chin as he consoled you through the pain. “You’re okay, I promise.” 

Looking at him through the tears you smiled, kissing the worried look off his face as the burning pain finally started to diminish. The taste of iron was heavy on your tongue. 

----------

Both of you did, in fact, manage to find a way. 

About a week after you and Jeongguk’s endeavor in the woods, he had managed to convince you to move everything from your grandfather’s cabin into your room while you moved in with him in his. It took a lot of consideration, and negotiation from Jeongguk’s side, but you were happy. 

That being said, you still visited the cabin every now and then to make sure everything was okay. 

Walking back into the pack house afterwards was awkward, you couldn’t look anybody in the eye as you walked past them, attempting to hide all the marks on your neck with your shirt while Jeongguk grinned ear to ear like a damn fool. 

It wouldn’t have mattered anyways, the smell of blood and sex tainted the air as soon as you stepped foot in the house much to yours and Seokjins adamant dismay. He yelled at both of you after you showed up, going off on how you could have at least washed off in the lake to at least attempt to hide what you two were up to, and to Jeongguk for running away like a hormonal, upset teenager. 

You were told that once Jeongguk bit you, you didn’t have your own unique scent anymore. Instead, you were permanently masked by Jeongguk’s smell to remind everybody who you belonged to. The fact made you blush when he told you, the thought oddly comforting and making your belly tighten. 

As you were packing everything into boxes to transport them back to the pack house, you had given Namjoon the picture that used to be above your fireplace mantle, now knowing who the once mysterious wolves next to him were. He thanked you immensely. 

Overall, everybody was happy. You were happy. This was a new beginning in your life, and you wouldn’t change anything that happened for the world. 

[chaoticrumii]

FIRESIDE

summary : while on the way to albedo’s, you and diluc end up in the midst of a nasty blizzard.

genre : fluff

perspective : second person pov

pairing : diluc x gn!reader ( they / them pronouns )

word count : 2.3k

warnings : mentions of hypothermia / mentions of death / fight scenes / mild sexual references

“i still have a lot to do at the guild, how about you take a rest while I go back ?” - diluc ragnivindr ( in-game voicelines )

Visiting Albedo was practically a hobby of yours at this point. As a long-time friend of the genius alchemist, you had decided his icy home in Dragonspine had to be lonely when only a mere few would muster up the guts to enter.

It wasn’t a problem with Albedo specifically, just the location he had chosen to make his experimental grounds. The low temperatures in Dragonspine already warded away most adventurers, but surprisingly Albedo had chosen that desolate place to become his man-cave, if you could even call the bones of an old beast and danger-filled mountains that.

He had found a certain exquisite beauty in the freezing cold climate, sketching icy flowers whilst the chilling breeze was numbing his face. Knowing Albedo, he had probably already gotten used to it and had made a potion to warm himself up to boot.

Knowing the lonesome man was probably up in the mountains with his beautiful Geo flowers, you had decided it was time to visit, and bring some warm food for him.

The temperatures in Dragonspine were unsettlingly low, so bringing a Pyro-vision wielder along with you was most likely the safest option when traversing those rigid peaks.

Unfortunately, it didn’t seem right for you to ask of Bennett’s assistance every time you were to go. He loved a good adventure, and strived to explore the entirety of Dragonspine with you, but only last week he had come home, staggering up to Katheryne at the Adventurer’s Guild all banged up. You would see Fischl eyeing you sometimes when the two of you passed along the streets of Mondstat as well, and it just didn’t sit right with you if you were putting the young adventurer in danger.

To be fair, you had somehow come out of each and every wreckage with Benny unscathed, and with Benny all beat up, but it was most likely his horrible luck. Most likely.

Regardless, it wasn’t like you were about to ask for the help of Klee. She’d probably run to the Yetis first thing. Although, bringing her to visit her big brother wouldn’t be a bad decision. Alas, that would have to be left for another adventure.

Who else to ask of in Mondstat for assistance travelling through the icy blizzards of Dragonspine? Of course, you were able to convince your loving boyfriend to go with you.

When you had told Diluc you wanted him to go with you to meet Albedo instead of Bennett, he didn’t give much of a visual reaction, but you could sense that he was probably quite excited. You had never actually asked him to go on a trip with you even though you had been together for a few months. And how wonderful the months you had together were.

The day of the trip, you had waited for him at the Angel’s Share, swinging your legs at the bar table. Your boyfriend was a successful bar owner after all. And a bewilderingly dazzling one at that.

“Would you like an Apple Cider, Y/N? The traveler stopped by and purchased one earlier, but there’s still another in stock. It’s on the house, of course.” Charles offered, wiping the counter with an orange towel.

“Charles, you really need to stop spoiling me with drinks because I’m dating your boss.” You said, laughing.

“Doesn’t that mean I have even more of an incentive to do it now?”

Just then, Diluc strode into the bar, Wolf’s Gravestone heaved over his shoulder. He headed towards you with an expressionless face, but you could see the corners of his eyes softening when he saw you waiting for him.

“Good afternoon, Charles. I’m here to pick up my lover.” He announced, stoic as ever.

“Have a nice time then, to the both of you! Safe travels.” Charles said, bidding us farewell as we headed on the way to the dragon’s final resting place.

The two of you walked along the overgrown path, chatting about the tiniest of things, and you could see that Diluc was smiling just the smallest bit. He rarely tore down his blank mask, but when he did, it was only during times when you were the sole person that could see him. To you, his smile was sacred, and the one thing you would have over any person in Teyvat and beyond. That besides his heart and undying devotion.

But of course, that part of it was mostly already implied.

Waving at the team of adventurers camped out beside the frost-coated bridge, you carefully stepped between the broken planks with Diluc’s hand in yours.

“Be careful, if you fall into the water you’ll get too cold. You of all people must know how Dragonspine is.” He mumbled, his brows creased.

You chuckled, slowly hiking up the steep mountain path. You were admiring the scenery around you, the snow falling gracefully from the sky as you trekked up the marked path through the centre of the mountainous area. You felt a tug from the hand intertwined in yours.

Diluc pulled you behind a rock as he poked his head from the side, surveying a group of what looked like members of the Fatui that were positioned by a small camp on the side of the path. His mouth curved into a snarl as he watched the overly dressed Fatui holding their weapons menacingly.

“Stay here.” He whispered gently, pulling the hood of your coat over your head.

He hefted his black claymore, the crimson lining evident against the cascading snowflakes. As he dragged the huge weapon along the ground, the Fatui looked towards him, unsheathing their respective weapons. With two guns aimed at his head, Diluc simply brushed a hand through his hair and charged.

Wolf’s Gravestone sparking, fire ignited along the blade as it collided with the side of the Electrohammer Vanguard. They were thrusted backwards as a result of the overload, their hammer dropping to their side as they raised the weapon once more, slamming down onto the ground that Diluc had just stood on. Your boyfriend dodged the bullets from the Pyroslinger Bracer and the attacks from the hammer swiftly, getting a small distance away as he hefted the claymore over his shoulder once more.

The weapon burst into flames, and he thrust it forward as a great Phoenix rushed forward, trampling over the Fatui enemies. The Electrohammer Vanguard crumbled to dust before your eyes, their body disintegrating into blue and yellow.

Diluc walked back towards you, grasping your hand in his as he lifted you up onto your feet from your sitting position behind the rock.

“The Pyroslinger Bracer got away, must’ve been because of Pyro resistance.” He muttered.

“Diluc, we don’t have to go hostile on them. It’s fine if we let them go.” You scolded, hitting him on the arm lightly.

“I just didn’t want them to hurt you.” He mumbled, looking away.

You laughed, placing your cold palms on his cheeks, squeezing. He smiled gently, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you into him.

“You really are adorable when you’re all soft. But seriously, the Fatui aren’t as bad as they’re made out to be. I had a talk with Childe the last time I visited Liyue with the traveler. He’s not all that evil, just flirty and mischievous.” You comforted your boyfriend, nuzzling into him.

“What do you mean by the Harbinger being flirty?” He asked, his lips curving into a frown.

“I mean he’s a flirt. The first time we met, he said ‘Hey cutie, hold still’. It was a little hilarious, but there are relatively good people in the Fatui.” You explained.

The wind picked up, snow glazing over your view. You looked towards the sky, and the grey emptiness only responded with darker clouds and harsher winds. Diluc opened up his black coat, tucking you under what he could as the two of you continued your journey into the mountains.

“A blizzard is approaching. We need to get to shelter, and fast.” Diluc quickly explained, grabbing a hold of your hand and dragging you towards the nearest cave.

As barrels of snow plummeted towards the ground, the cold made you shiver down to the bone. The storm itself was grappling with your clothing as you struggled to walk forward. How much longer would it be? Your body couldn’t handle the cold for too long, hypothermia wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for wanderers in Dragonspine. Diluc only grasped your hand tighter, and you continued to make your way towards the small opening in the rock face.

Once you had ducked your head and entered the small cave, Diluc pulled out some sticks from his coat and proceeded to use his elemental skill to light up the small campfire he had created. You huddled close, rubbing your hands for warmth. It wasn’t a lot, seeing as the opening in the rock was just that. The cave was about as small as a cave could be. There wasn’t really a back area you could lay in and shield yourself from the cold. It seemed as though the storm could blow out the fire instantaneously.

“Are you alright?” Diluc asked, seemingly concerned as his fingers ghosted the skin of your cheek.

“It’s just really cold.” You stammered, trying to keep the cold air from entering your mouth.

Your teeth chattered, and you were sure that Diluc could hear it too. The subtle noise was invading your brain, and you couldn’t do much about it. The small fire just wasn’t enough to keep you toasty. Diluc didn’t seem to know what to do with himself. He was leaning against the rock face, keeping his eyes on you.

You curled up into a small ball on the rocky floor of the cave. Wrapping your arms around yourself and keeping the body heat was the best option you could go for, other than setting yourself on fire. But Diluc definitely wouldn’t stand for that. As time passed, the blizzard that had you trapped only got worse. Was there anyone that could save you? It wasn’t safe to leave the cave.

Without realizing it, Diluc had crouched down next to you, placing his large coat over you. His brows were creased, but his face was still stoic as ever. It was Diluc’s way of saying he cared. He gingerly wrapped his arms around you, as if trying to shield you from the blizzard raging only mere feet away.

“I’m almost out of energy particles, and there aren’t any enemies out here in this storm. I won’t be able to light another flame.” He confessed, sighing as he looked out towards the bleak spread of white.

He squeezed you tightly, but you could barely feel it from the numbness of the cold. Maybe it was because of Diluc’s pyro vision that he could last so long in the barraging snow. How could you even begin to do that?

Struggling in that state was futile, the air only getting thinner and thinner as the cold got harsher and harsher. You closed your eyes for a moment, and let yourself have a brief respite. Diluc’s guttural shout could be heard, from someplace far away, as red flashed so bright you could see the glow behind your closed eyelids.

And for just a while after, it was dark.

You opened your eyes once more to a rocky ceiling, and an incessant noise, the scribbling of a pencil on paper. You gazed to your left to see the chalk prince in all his glory, sketching mindlessly. You quickly recalled the events of what happened previously, and you carefully sat up.

“You need your rest, Y/N. Your body temperature is below what it should be. Besides, I haven’t yet completed my drawing.” He said, continuing his art piece.

“Y/N?”

You turned to see Diluc, who immediately leapt forward and encased you in his arms. You sighed, snuggling into him as you felt the warmth radiating off his body.

“He sent a Phoenix to my laboratory, nearly singed Timaeus’ eyebrows off. If given the chance, I’d like to study it. It’s not exactly a familiar, nor a beast. Although, I’d have to run some tests first to be sure.” Albedo muttered, tilting his drawing towards you, which displayed a great Phoenix, much similar to Diluc’s elemental burst.

“The food! What happened to our food?” You realized, looking around the floor for any sign of your rucksack.

“Timaeus, Sucrose and I were able to find you two in the cave. Unfortunately, the food was not a fortunate as the two of you. It’s been taken in, don’t you worry.” He said, smiling gently.

You let out a sigh, flopping back down onto the bed Albedo had prepared for you, with Diluc in tow. Diluc lightly pressed a kiss to your temple, hugging you even tighter and burying his face in the crook of your neck. You chuckled, leaning into him as you peppered his neck in small kisses. Gentle ones, that left your face burning at the heat of his skin. You could feel his heart beating in the veins below your lips.

“Unfortunately, I don’t really do many biological experiments or observations of the human sort, so you two can have the laboratory to yourselves. Please get rid of the samples as well, I won’t need them for my tests any time soon.” Albedo said, his cheeks slightly red as he watched you and Diluc, leaving the cave with his sketchbook, presumably to meet up with Timaeus and Sucrose.

“Did he just—”

“He’s definitely got the wrong idea.” Diluc huffed, his face flushed, as he pulled away from you.

He picked you up, carrying you bridal style as he lowered you both next to the nearby fire. You leaned your head against his, and he wrapped an arm around you gingerly.

The wholesome moment by the fireside could only be described as incredibly heart-warming, as the fire gently cracked, and Diluc leaned in to press a kiss to your lips.

::

written = 07.08.2021

proofread = 09.08.2021

© chaoticrumii 2021 ; all rights reserved ; please do not copy / reference / utilise my works without credit

[rebrandedbard]

20 for the sentence prompts? (The "you need to wake up") Or 50 if you're not feeling it/that's already been asked.

Oh hon, believe me: my ask box is empty as the Arizona desert and I’m feeling anything y’all are willing to send lmao. There are no repeat prompts.

20. “You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.”

tw: cave-in, near-death experience, blood, punctured lung

WC:  1310

And since she asked to be included, @stinastar​

To Gift A Name

Geralt and the bard take a contract in a mine that quickly takes a turn for the worst. Geralt finally learns the bard’s name.

-

Canaries and coal mines; he ought to have remembered. Canaries, canaries, canaries and their bright singing. Why did men bring such bright creatures down into the desolate darkness deep below in the dungeons of the earth? It was not for the company, nor in appreciation for their cheerful chirping. They brought them along to die, their death a warning of impending disaster. And here this little bird had been whistling, twittering, flittering, singing—! Humming and strumming his merry way at Geralt’s side, making all of life a song for months. No matter what Geralt tried, he could not shut the damn bard up for love or money.

But now the bard was silent.

“Bard!” Geralt called. The fool had been too loud, doing scales to listen to his echo singing back to him down the empty shaft. Geralt had sent him away to investigate the mine himself, wishing to come out of this contract with his head on his shoulders. A golem. He’d seen the evidence of it already, felt the static of power in the air. He didn’t need another head to worry about, especially not one so up in the clouds it had no sense of self-preservation.

And the senseless fool had followed after anyway, sneaking so far into the twisted caves that it would be impossible to send him back alone. So he’d stayed close by Geralt, whispering in his ear all the while despite Geralt’s many attempts to convey the seriousness of the threat and his need to stay quiet.

“Bard!” he called again. “Damn you, answer me!”

The golem had caught them by surprise, bursting from the wall of a tunnel. Being made of the very same rock as made the walls of the mine, it had blended in all too perfectly with its surroundings. It had knocked the bard aside with a single blow. Geralt had cast a barrier and picked the bard up, pushing him into the nearest alcove, shouted for him to retreat as far as he could. He’d then lured the beast away, giving the fool what time he could to get away. It had been a hard fight; golems were one of the contracts witchers hoped not to face more than once a decade or so. The caverns shook, rocks tumbled from the walls and whole tunnels caved in. When he’d seen the beast slain, he’d gone looking for the bard again, but try as he might, he found no trace of him.

Geralt cupped his hands again, but drew a halted breath. “B—!” He swallowed his cry in frustration. “Fuck,” he muttered. He couldn’t remember the bastard’s name. He’d tried so hard to ignore it, to ensure it never made a place in his head. To give something a name was to become attached, and he’d been doing his best to keep the man at arm’s length, send him off somewhere for so long. Lot of good that did.

He turned once more, heart stuttering in his chest as he raised his hands and yelled, “Bard!” His call echoed through the long chamber, and he could hear the panicked tone shouted back at him over and over, as if from the voice of a stranger. “Idiot, where are you!” And even ‘idiot’ held familiarity. Attachment.

From somewhere behind, he heard the slightest shift in the rock. And a muffled wheeze.

Geralt tore back down the mine, following after the sound. He could smell it now: anxious sweat, and more chillingly, a note of blood. He’d almost passed the rock pile when he caught the edge of a tattered blue sleeve among the rubble.

At once, he took to his knees, digging furiously at the pile, casting rocks carelessly behind. A pale face emerged, covered in streaks of clay dust, eyes closed. The wheeze of his breathing was faint beneath the weight of the rocks, but still there. He was alive.

“Listen to me, bard. I’ll get you out, just stay with me. Just breathe.”

He cleared his neck, his chest, until he could see the barest movement. But there was very little movement to be seen, each rise and fall of his chest shallower than the last. The scent of blood was stronger now, and at last, Geralt uncovered the source.

A stave splintered from the support in the wall had run itself through his chest. The blood flowed in time with his breathing—a punctured lung from the look of it. He won’t be able to sing, Geralt thought. If he lived—he would live—it would be some weeks before he could sing comfortably, even with a healer’s care.

At a loss for what to do, Geralt continued to uncover the bard. He broke off the bulk of the stave, doing his best not to jostle the end lodged in the man’s chest, but he was losing too much blood. It was a risk, but he removed the stave in full. Desperate, he cast a sign and pressed his burning hand to the wound, sealing it shut. What worried him most was that the bard made not a single grunt of pain throughout.

Geralt patted his face. “Come on, wake up,” he hissed. He watched as the head lolled beneath his touch.

His heart was racing. He picked up the bard, a bright thing now torn and dulled. Such a thing did not belong here in the dark. Nothing so gentle belonged on this path. He knew. He knew and yet he did not try so hard as he pretended. He’d kept the man at arm’s length with a lonely fist gripped in that fancy doublet, afraid of his leaving.

“Of all the times to listen to me …” Geralt pressed his head to the bard’s shoulder. He’d asked him to leave so many times. But not now. Not like this.

I don’t need a barker. And he did not. But what he did need was him. He needed that voice to fill the silence, to follow by his side, smiling, caring, bringing light to his empty days. He needed him. There was no facing the path alone, however much he’d lied to himself.

“You need to wake up,” he whispered, clutching the little songbird to his chest. You need to. Because I need you. Because I can’t do this without you.”

He rocked slightly, fingers petting the bard’s soft hair as he held him close, face pressed to his shoulder. “Don’t leave me like this, bard,” he said. “Don’t leave …”

“… ‘skier …”

Geralt froze. He pulled away, having felt warm breath on his neck.

Blue eyes smiled weakly back at him. “Jaskier,” the bard repeated, the word so very small, too weak to even echo. He spoke again, breath strained, wheezing slightly. “For the … hundredth time. It’s Jaskier. Not bard.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt said.

The bard smiled and closed his eyes. “Sounds good. Was waiting … for that.”

“You’re going to be alright, Jaskier. I’m taking you to a healer. Just stay with me.”

“I will. Witcher,” he teased. “Fi—finally made your mind up? To keep me?”

Geralt stood carefully, Jaskier cradled in his arms. “Save your breath. You may not have much left if you prattle on.”

Jaskier chuckled, coughing wet, deep in his chest. He winced, but his mischievous smirk remained intact. “Bossy,” he mumbled. “Like that.”

“Jaskier.”

“Don’t scold, Geralt. ’M wounded.”

Geralt sighed, but the weight on his heart had lifted. He stepped carefully over the wrecked remains of the tunnel wall and headed back toward the entrance of the mine, following the track marks of the carts along the floor. The golem would fetch a good price: enough to pay the healer with some left over. It would afford them fine treatment, a comfortable stay.

His bard would sing again.

-

Send me a drabble prompt!

[mascwhump]

Trenches, Part 2

Chapter 1: Thoughts of a Dying Atheist

CW: smothering, disordered eating (implied), manhandling, concussion, needles, noncon drugging

Tag list: @whatwasmyprevioususername @milk-carton-whump @whumpasaurus101 @whatwhumpcomments @mnmlover2002 @ashintheairlikesnow @tears-and-lilies @utopian819

-

"To make a long fucking story short," Mallory sighed as he tightly gripped the steering wheel. His knuckles were beginning to turn white. Nikolas turned to look at him, waiting for him to continue speaking.

"Some kind of WikiLeaks knockoff got ahold of some emails and they're demanding money to keep them secret. We're hiding until the government negotiates," Mallory finally said. Rain pattered against the windshield, increasing in intensity as Mallory sped up.

There was nothing to be seen outside the window besides dirt, rocks, dead plants, and distant mountains. Mallory was fidgeting in his seat as he reached to turn on the radio. He was going over 100 miles per hour now, determined to make it to Reno before the sun went down. The desolate dirt road was filling him with anxiety.

He adjusted the rear view mirror to look into the backseat. Charlie was asleep with his head against the door. The hood of the Oxford hoodie hung over his eyes just enough to block out the light. Mallory put the mirror back in its place and flipped through the radio stations. The ones that had good connection weren't anything worth listening to.

Eventually, the signal fizzled out into nothing. Mallory let the static play. They soon reached Tonopah and pulled into a gas station. Charlie woke up when Mallory shut off the engine.

"Not a word, remember?" Mallory threatened quietly as they got out of the car. Charlie nodded.

"Good. You can get a snack and something to drink."

Nikolas had already disappeared inside the gas station. Charlie grabbed a bottle of Pepsi and a bag of Chex Mix before meeting Mallory at the register. He shoved his hands into the pocket of the hoodie, avoiding eye contact with the clerk. He could feel her eyes on him, examining the cut on his lip and the healing bruise on his brow. They finished the transaction and went back to the car, where Nikolas already pumping the gas.

Soon, they were off again. Charlie quietly nibbled on the Chex Mix and sipped his soda. It had been so long since he had junk food, never mind a soda. Nikolas was picking at pathetic salad while Mallory attempted to eat a protein bar one-handed. The rest of the drive was fairly uneventful, and Charlie had managed to sleep for most of it. They pulled up to the house an hour before sunset.

It was very industrial-looking, and sat on a hill. There was a view of the rest of Sparks and most of Reno. Mallory unlocked the door, and Charlie and Nikolas followed him inside. The pair froze when they heard footsteps coming toward them. Charlie was surprised to see Basil appear from the hallway.

"All clear, sir," Basil spoke. His eyes seemed to light up when he saw Charlie.

"Good, good. Alright. Nikolas, your room is down here, across from Basil's. Charlie, you're upstairs with me. Basil, I'm sending you into town to get some things," Mallory said as he walked into the kitchen, setting things down on the counter. He took a notepad out of a drawer and began making a list. He tore off the sheet and handed it to Basil, along with two-hundred dollars and his keys.

Basil glanced over the list before shoving it into his pocket. He left before Mallory could give him any new orders. Charlie stood awkwardly by the stairs as Nikolas went to his room and Mallory walked over to a window. He then felt something touch his leg, and looked down to find Sasha rubbing against his sweats.

"Sasha," Charlie said quietly as he leaned down to pick her up. He placed her on his lap as he sat down on the bottom steps.

"I missed you," he whispered. He could feel his throat tighten as tears formed in his eyes. Sasha snuggled against his hands as he pet her. It was the first bit of genuine affection he had received in months; it almost felt alien.

"She missed you," Mallory said as he reached for her. Charlie hadn't noticed him move. He whined against his will as Sasha was removed from his lap.

"You're really pathetic," Mallory jeered. He cradled Sasha in his arms as he walked back to the window. Charlie remained on the stairs until Basil returned with groceries. It was enough to feed the four of them for a week, maybe ten days if Charlie was given his usual portions.

"I'm going to have a bath. Nik, cook us something, will you?" Mallory said. Nikolas ended up making spaghetti. Charlie could tell he wasn’t very fond of cooking. After dinner, Charlie begrudgingly followed Mallory up the steps and into the bedroom. He stood awkwardly by the door.

“Just lie down somewhere. Not my bed, though,” Mallory said as he pulled back the sheets.

“Wasn’t planning on it,” Charlie mumbled. Mallory stopped what he was doing and shot him a glare.

“Speak up if you’re going to talk to me like that. You know, you’re lucky I forgot your collar,” he hissed. Charlie let out a silent sigh and went to an empty corner of the room. He did his best to get comfortable, and he was grateful for the plush carpeting.

Mallory got into bed and shut off the light. He began to watch videos on his phone, much to Charlie’s annoyance. He just wanted to sleep. He did his best to block out the sound. After awhile, Mallory finally shut off the videos and settled. Charlie thought about grabbing a pillow and smothering him in his sleep.

Charlie was still wide awake long after Mallory had fallen asleep. He decided to creep downstairs to get a glass of water. Carefully, he stepped to the door and twisted the handle slowly. The door didn’t squeak, much to his relief. He slipped out of the door and down the steps successfully. He walked into the kitchen, but froze when he saw Nikolas there. Nikolas was sitting at the counter on his phone, eating a bowl of ice cream. He looked up and stared at Charlie for a moment before going back to what he was doing.

Charlie slowly continued to the cabinet where the glasses were. He kept glancing back at Nikolas as he got his water. He drank it quickly, practically chugging it before cleaning the glass and returning it to its place in the cabinet.

“Nikolas?” He said quietly. Nikolas looked up from his phone again.

“You won’t tell him, will you?” Charlie asked sheepishly. Nikolas shook his head.

Charlie went back upstairs and opened the door slowly. His blood ran cold when he saw Mallory sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Why’d you go downstairs?” He asked.

“I-I’m sorry, I just needed some water, and I didn’t want to wake you up by getting it from the bathroom,” Charlie replied. His grip on the door handle tightened as Mallory moved from the bed.

Charlie began to back out of the room as he was approached. He was nearing the stairs, and knew he couldn’t move any more.

“Then stay down there,” Mallory said. He pushed hard on Charlie’s shoulders, sending him backwards and down the stairs. Charlie hit the floor with a loud thud. His head smacked against the wood, causing his vision to double. Mallory went back into his room and slammed the door.

Charlie stayed where he was and fought back tears. His body was aching. His head began throbbing with sharp pains. He eventually tore his gaze away from the ceiling and looked over at Nikolas, who was staring at him. He then walked over, and shined the flashlight of his phone into Charlie’s eyes.

Nikolas nodded before going over to the couch and pointing at it. Charlie forced himself up, stumbling as he made his way to the couch. He sat down, and Nikolas shook his head. He gently pushed on Charlie’s shoulder to get him to lie down. After he did, Nikolas walked away. The room was spinning, and Charlie was becoming nauseated. He closed his eyes in attempt to stop the motion, but still felt as though he was on a boat.

He heard footsteps and opened his eyes again. Mallory was at the bottom of the stairs, staring at him. He eventually walked over and shined his own flashlight into Charlie’s eyes.

“Fucking hell,” he sighed, “your pupils are completely different sizes.” Nikolas returned with a syringe in his hand.

“No. I’m not wasting that on this,” Mallory protested.

Charlie began to gag and rolled off of the couch onto his knees. He got up as quickly as he could and rushed to the bathroom.

“Fine,” Mallory hissed, “give it to him.” Nikolas went to Charlie and gave him the serum. When they returned to the living room, Mallory was standing with his arms folded.

“I’m fucking exhausted. No more of this tonight. Come on,” Mallory said.

Charlie followed him back up the stairs. He went back into his spot in the corner and sat against the wall. Mallory fell asleep again quickly, while Charlie couldn’t even close his eyes. It wasn’t anything new for him. He hadn’t been able to sleep at night in months. He slept periodically throughout the day.

An hour passed, and Sasha began scratching at the door to be let out of the room. When Charlie opened it, Mallory woke up.

“Again?” He questioned.

“I’m letting her out,” Charlie said.

“I just want to fucking sleep,” Mallory groaned as he put his pillow over his head. Charlie’s mind drifted back to his earlier thought, and his heart raced. He could do it. The opportunity was there. He should have learned by now that taking risks never worked in his favor. But he hadn’t.

The first part was easy enough. He just pressed down as hard as he could. He wasn’t prepared for the struggle, though, and panicked. He had to get on top of Mallory to prevent him from moving any more. Mallory scratched at his arms hard enough to draw blood; it was dripping down, staining the pillow red.

Mallory was becoming weaker by the second. Charlie maintained his hold, until he looked over and saw Sasha looking at him from the floor. She let out a small meow, and a switch flipped in Charlie’s head. He abruptly stopped his assault and tore the pillow away. Mallory began violently choking in air. Charlie was frozen in place. Once Mallory had sufficient oxygen, he managed to flip Charlie onto the bed next to him, now becoming the one on top.

“What the hell was that?!” Mallory yelled as his fists sloppily rained down onto Charlie’s face. Charlie attempted to get words out, but only managed a few pained squeaks. Mallory got off of him after a few more seconds and rushed out of the room.

Charlie curled up into the fetal position with his hands covering his face. He was shaking violently now, and he couldn’t control his staggered breaths. Mallory soon returned to the room, and before Charlie could react, he felt a needle in his neck.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

By the king’s hand 🐍 X

Warnings: noncon/rape, forced oral, violence, mentions of pregnancy and miscarriage.

This is dark!fic and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You find yourself in a new prison.

Note: In advance, sorry. Guess that’s all I can say hahaha.

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

Your shoulders ached as your weight tugged at your muscles. A folded length of ribbon was tied around your eyes and your hands were bound above you. You dangled on your tiptoes in the chill cellar. Your gown was little protection from the late autumn air that permeated the underground. Your teeth chattered and you shivered ever now and then.

How long had it been since you’d been left there? Magnus had been gruff and silent as he dragged you down the steps, nearly tossing you down them. He shrouded your vision almost at once and shackled your wrist with a warning that he would break your fingers. You thrashed out at him blindly as he secured you to the hook above; like a pig awaiting the butcher.

The door slammed and a heavy locked churned, signaling your desolation. You screamed at first, until you were breathless and hoarse. None arrived to save you from the trap. Silent, you hung weakly and nodded off for only a few minutes before you were roused by the thought of your reality. 

You felt as if you would cry but sniffed it back. You wriggled in the thick metal cuffs and kicked out as you tried to free yourself. That didn’t work either and the hours passed in helpless paralysis or frantic writhing. You felt death in the cold air of the chamber.

When at last the rusted hinges shrieked, you raised your head cluelessly and tried to see through the cloth at your eyes. Heavy footsteps entered the cellar and you counted two pairs as they shut the door in their stead. 

Had Magnus brought Loki to you? Would the king dole out another punishment to you for a crime not your own?

It was quiet, tense, as the footfalls paced around you. You gripped the chain that held the cuffs together and sensed a warmth before you. A large, thick hand framed your chin and turned your head back and forth. A dark chuckle made you gasp.

“Was it very hard to catch her?” Thor asked as he squeezed painfully and tilted your head up.

“Fish in a barrel,” Magnus replied. “The challenge was going unseen.”

“Oh, yes, my brother is rather upset,” Thor pulled down the strip of fabric to fall around your neck. “And how could he not be.” He ran his thumb along your bottom lip, “Without his little pet?”

“Why?” You quivered as you tried to shake him away. “Why are you doing this?”

You were shocked by the strike across your cheek. Your head spun and you turned at the end of your restraints before the prince righted you and brought you to face him again.

“I have no reason or obligation to explain myself to a peasant,” he sneered, “But you can assume that I have the same needs as any man. As the king himself.”

You hung your head as metallic blood gathered at the corner of your mouth. Your cheek throbbed as you tasted iron. Thor forced your head up again and admired the way your lip already began to swell.

“Did you do anything to her?” Thor asked.

“Not yet,” Magnus snickered. “Can’t say I wasn’t tempted.”

“Good,” The prince released you and untied his cloak. The scarlet cloth fluttered to the floor. “And you say he took her from the dungeons?”

“Put her there first,” Magnus replied flatly. “She never knows when to shut her mouth.”

“Mmm,” Thor hummed and reached to unsheath a blade from his belt, “Among her other charms, I’m certain.”

He slid the knife beneath the top of your dress and tore it through the satin easily. Your bodice fell open as he sliced through the skirts. The gown unveiled your nudity as he stood back and nudged you so that you spun from your shackles. He grasped the loose fabric and cut it entirely away from your body, letting it fall in shreds atop his cloak.

You pulled at the cuffs and grunted as you kicked at the stone floor. A wave of panic mingled with your anger. “You can’t--” You were silenced by another smack, this one across your ass.

“I could gag her. Or break her teeth?” Magnus offered.

“You will do as I bid,” Thor rebuffed, “I’ll have my fun first.”

He turned you to face him again. He took your head between his hands and rubbed your temples cloyingly. He dipped his thumb down to your mouth and pushed it inside. You bit him and he hissed. He curled his thumb beneath your tongue and sent a pang through your whole body.

“No biting,” he snarled, “Or I will do worse to you.” He warned. “Use that mouth wisely, pet.”

You glared at him but did not try again to bite him. You were terrified truly. The two men could kill you easily and you had little faith that they would not when all was at an end. Your mortal cowardice stilled you and had you prone to the prince’s will.

“Let her down to her knees,” Thor ordered as he let go of you and took a step back. 

He picked at the top of his breeches as Magnus moved to the pully which held taught the rope attached to the hook above. He turned it and Thor grabbed your shoulders. He pushed down until you were on your knees, your hands still held over you.

“Alright, pet,” he purred, “You may pretend I am your king, if you prefer, but I promise you will know it is me.”

He pushed open his trousers and reached inside. He pulled his member out and stroked himself until he was hard. You looked away as Magnus’ shadow caught your eye. The guard watched without emotion. You closed your eyes as the prince came closer.

He pressed his tip to your lips. You held your mouth closed at first. He growled, a low wordless threat, and you parted your lips. He slid inside, just a little and groaned. He caressed your head and his fingers stretched across the back of it. He urged his cock deeper and prodded at the back of your throat.

Your eyes watered as you tried to steady your breath. He forced himself deeper and sank down until no air could pass his girth. He held himself there and wiggled his hips. Your neck strained and he retreated slowly before thrusting down your throat once more. His voice was smoky as he rocked against you.

“Mmmm, fuck.” He swore, “How long it has been.”

Your mouth made sloppy noises around him as he sped up with each tilt. Your head pulsed as you struggled to catch your breath. Your eyes streamed and rolled back as spit leaked out around your lips. You shuddered in disgust as he used you, his grunts and groans feeding your derision.

“You ready to taste me, pet?” He snarled, “Be a good pet and drink me up.”

He hammered into you even harder, your throat raw and ragged as he did not relent. He turned your head up as he plunged into you over and over. His voice bounced off the walls and a tremor rippled through his body as he came. The heat of his seed flood your throat and mouth around his thick cock and he slowed a little at a time until he was still.

He pulled out of you and quickly forced your mouth shut. He covered your mouth with his hand as his other spread over your neck. He bent over until his nose met yours and you opened your eyes.

“Swallow,” he hissed.

You obeyed and withheld a wretch. He smirked and stood straight. He sighed and lifted you to your feet. He rounded you and pushed on your shoulders until you bent. He gripped your hips and pulled you back. His wet cock rested against your ass as it twitched.

“Just a minute,” he rasped as he rubbed your bottom with one hand. You kept your eyes on the floor as your arms were bent awkward around your head.

He slid two fingers along your thigh and felt around your folds. He tutted as he felt how wet you were. You shook your head, ashamed of your body’s deceit. He circled your entrance and pushed into you, stretching you around his thick fingers.

“You’re fucking tight,” he said, “Is my brother not using you enough?” He pulled his fingers in and out of you, “You sure do feel as if you are wanting, pet.”

He fucked you with his fingers and his heady breaths sent tingles across your flesh. When he withdrew his digits, he spread your folds and guided his cock to your entrance. He slid between his fingers, carefully, and pushed his tip inside. You tensed around him and he groaned. He retracted his hand and grasped your hip, impaling you in a single motion and jolting you entirely.

“Shit,” he croaked, “Oh, pet, you are delightful.” He moved you against him as your walls clenched around his thick cock, “You fit me so well.”

He rocked your body against his and had you back on your tiptoes as you struggled not to topple. If you did, you would only wrench your shoulders and injure yourself. He grabbed your shoulder as he rutted you and brought his other hand around your neck to force your head up.

“Use her mouth,” he demanded. You looked away as Magnus neared at the prince’s order. “Be a good pet,” he squeezed your chin and you opened your mouth weakly.

You closed your eyes as Magnus fumbled with his belt and you quaked around Thor’s intrusion. Thor’s hand snaked down to your other shoulder and Magnus replaced his along your jaw. He slid into you without warning and filled your throat painfully. His other hand went to the back of your head and he bobbed you up and down his length.

“Yeah, like that,” Thor uttered, “My brother is so selfish not to share you.”

You twined your fingers together as the men moved you between them. As Thor slid your cunt up and down his cock, Magnus did the same to your mouth. The two men rutted into you until only the clapping of their flesh and their grunts could be heard. Your own thoughts were scrambled as you only prayed for it to be over.

Thor sped up and hammered into you. You choked on Magnus as you were forced closer to him and the prince mewled as he emptied inside of you. He slowed and still but did not pull out, instead guiding your head.

Magnus growled and you felt him quake. He muffled his voice as he spilled into you and you tasted his salty seed as it bubbled around his cock. He pulled out of you roughly and his cum leaked from your lips as Thor kept you against him, still buried deep in your cunt. He jerked his hips and you whimpered, coughing up more spit and seed onto the stone.

He slid out of you carefully and you felt his cum leak out as he did. He slapped your ass and you fell to your knees. The prince moved around you, a shadow beyond your haze, and you felt a tug above you. He wound the gears until you were on your feet again, your soles nearly off the stone.

“Fuck her,” Thor commanded.

Magnus turned you to him and lifted your leg. He reached to your cunt and pushed his hand roughly against you. He stopped and looked to the prince. “Can I have her ass?”

“No, not yet,” Thor snipped as he tucked his cock in his trousers only to rub himself through them. 

Magnus huffed and his nostrils flared. He lined himself up with your entrance and took you off the floor as he plunged into. He brought your other leg up, hooking his arms beneath your knees as he tilted into you. You hung your head back as you were held aloft by the shackles. He bounced you against him without restraint; every thrust harder than the last.

“You fucking little bitch,” his voice was low as it rumbled through you, “This is what you want. What you always wanted.”

You whined and your thighs trembled as you tried to resist the heat that bloomed in your core. You bit your lip as his pelvis rubbed against your clit and he slammed into you over and over. Your tears fell freely, almost without notice, and you squealed as you were overcome with pleasure. You bent your legs around his thick arms and came around his cock.

He grunted louder with each thrust into you. He worked your body against his and let one of your legs fall loose as he gripped your neck. He choked you as he lost himself in his lust. You heard Thor too, his breath shallow and shuddery.

Magnus climaxed with a snort and held himself deep inside you. He lifted you from his cock and left you to dangle again. Your thigh grew slick with cum as you hung helpless, awaiting their next move with dread. You whimpered at the tenderness between your legs and in your throat.

“You still there, pet?” Thor snapped his fingers in front of your face as he fondled your tit. “Come on, we’ve only just begun.”

🐍

You were numb. If life with Loki was harsh, your existence in the hands of Magnus and Thor was the worst hell one could know. You languished in the dank cellar when they were away with only the frightful anticipation of their return. Those times you did manage to sleep were little relief as your nightmares were haunted by the same men who controlled your reality.

There were hours, maybe days, when you were left alone. You had no way to keep track and you suspected your guess wasn’t very close. You were let down every now and then to relieve yourself or to eat the meagre meals provided by your captors. The stew that turned your stomach and tasted worse than the bile always rising in your throat.

You could barely recall what came before. Your life in the city, your time in the dungeon, your months spent in the king’s chambers. It was as if none of it had happened and this had always been your lot.

When you did think of Loki, you were foolish enough to miss him. Was it any better than this? You remembered him using you too; remembered his cruel green eyes and his restless hands. And yet, it was all just a blur to your addled mind.

You cried often but tried not to when they were there. When they were there, they used you. You lived on their will, you served your purpose and were easily tossed aside like a doll. Your body was not your own; had it ever been?

The pain was unending. It surged through every part of you; your muscles, your bones, your very soul. There was no way out. You would die in this place, at the hands of these men. You would be forgotten to this grim cellar, just another casualty of aristocratic greed.

You were half-asleep when the door woke you. You hated that noise; dreaded it more than anything. You didn’t look up; you didn’t need to; couldn’t bring yourself to. The men’s faces were etched into your mind; they were all you saw, waking or otherwise.

A shadow loomed over you. You felt a warm hand on your chin and your head was lifted. Thor stared at you and turned your head back and forth. 

“Pet,” he rubbed your cheek, “Can you hear me?”

You nodded dumbly and he smiled. Your vision cleared and his features came into focus.

“Get her down,” he gently released your chin, “Sit her down and get her a blanket.”

Your arms fell before you, still held together by the shackles. You were moved to sit on a stool and a musty wool blanket was thrown around you. Thor sat on another stool as Magnus paced behind him.

“Do you know how long you’ve been here?” He asked.

You shook your head and hugged the blanket around you. You shivered. “Forever,” you whispered.

He laughed and reached to rest his hand on your knee. “What is it, Mag? A month, now.”

“Just over,” the other man assured. 

“And after all this time, the king continues his search,” Thor said mockingly, “Not realising you are right beneath his very nose. Beneath his own brother.” He laughed loudly and smacked your knee before he drew away. “But Loki is not that stupid. He will catch on. We must move you.”

“No,” you rocked and kept your head down, “Kill me.”

“What?” Thor sputtered and it was Magnus’ turn to laugh. “Pet, what use are you then?”

You raised your head and blinked. You looked between the men and your eyes stung. How awful they were. You had never thought any could be so vile.

“Please,” you begged, “Just do it.”

“You are confused.” Thor said, “You don’t seem so unhappy when I’m inside you.”

You recoiled in revulsion and lowered your head again. Your stomach ached and you felt sick. Your nausea had grown worse with each day. You didn’t know if it was the rancid stew they fed you or the unyielding anxiety. You rubbed your stomach; it was firm and warm beneath your hand. You were surprised by how full it felt at your touch.

Thor’s eyes went to the movement beneath the blanket and you peeked up at him. He nodded and for once, his blue eyes were serious. He stood and grabbed your elbows to bring you up to your feet. He pushed the blanket open and you flinched. He touched your hand.

“Have you not looked at yourself?” He asked.

“What?” You breathed.

He slid his hand beneath yours and pushed his rough palm to your stomach. You looked down and bit down at the sight of your body. There was a subtle roundness to your middle not there before. Your breasts were swollen too and tender as the edge of the blanket tickled them.

“You’re with child, pet,” he said glumly.

You gaped up at him in shock. You shoved him away and covered yourself. The chain between your shackles jingled as you turned and hid your face. “No, I cannot…”

“It is neither of ours,” he said firmly, “You are further along than that.”

“Then…” you gasped, “Then why keep me?”

“I’ll find a place for the bastard. I cannot say my brother would do the same.” Thor said. “And you are still early, you are still…”

“Capable,” Magnus intoned. “If we’re lucky, we can fuck the child out of you.”

“Don’t be so crass,” Thor reproached. “Pet,” he neared and touched your shoulder, “If we move you, and you promise to behave, then we will settle you somewhere comfortable. For you, for the baby, until your time comes.”

“And after?” You kept your back to him and shrugged away his hand. “What am I to do with a child?”

“You wouldn’t be able to-- A royal bastard… must be hidden. You cannot stay with the babe. It would be dangerous for both of you.”

“Dangerous?” You spun to him, “For me or you? You only want to keep me hidden from your brother. To keep me to yourself and for what reason? You’ve a wife, a child? Was she not due already?”

He scowled and crossed his arms as he backed away. “Now, pet, you must understand--”

“A child would ruin me. You wouldn’t want me after so why--”

“Because I am a prince and I can do as I wish,” he hissed. “Now, I am giving you a choice, and let me tell you, I do not do so often so I can move you somewhere where you and your child will be healthy or I can keep you in another cell and fuck you until you are bleeding.”

You reeled at his tone. Your stomach churned again and you groaned. A child? It was too much to think of, but to be kept as you were? That was unbearable. If it was only your own life, it would be an easy choice, but it wasn’t just you anymore.

“I’m…” you sat before you could collapse. You hunched and hugged your stomach with one arm. “I’m sorry.” You looked up at him, “I’ll be good.” You swore and bent over. “I’ll--” You wretched onto the floor and your entire body convulsed. “I’m scared.” You admitted as you stared down at your vomit.

“Good,” Thor taunted, “You should be.”

[cuuno-moved]

Wilbur's Relapse

Heyo! As promised, I wrote another thing. Shout out to benny for the inspiration. This is mostly unedited like the Tommy's Perch one so I'll probably wanna rewrite this in like 2 days but its fineeeee. Anyways,,, hope you like it! (Also sorry in advance. I like angst.)

TRIGGER WARNING: Self harm, fire, explosions, intrusive thoughts

"Do it, Phil. Stab me with a sword. Kill me!"

"Let's be the bad guys." "MY L'MANBERG, PHIL!"

Wilbur shrinks further into his pillow. The blanket is a comforting weight, but the plush around his ears is doing little to drown out the noise of his memories. Times he'd rather forget, if he's entirely honest. Is this what Techno's voices feel like? he wonders.

"Are we the villains in this story?"

The man runs his fingers to his hair and tugs at his scalp. He's shaking to much to actually do anything to his head, but the slight pain of it grounds him in such a slight way.

"IF WE CAN'T HAVE MANBERG, NO ONE. NO ONE CAN HAVE MANBERG!"

Wilbur jerks upward. It's too much. His thoughts are too loud. He needs it to stop. How did he stop them before?

His blanket is discarded on the floor, part of still wrapped around his ankle. Before he realizes what he's doing, his hands are haphazardly rummaging through his chests. He snatches a handful of iron and a few shovels that are halfway to breaking and tries to stand. He falls to the ground. With a huff of frustration, Wilbur yanks the blanket away from his foot and moves on.

The president rushes through his nether portal and makes his way to the Shopping District. It's oddly desolate when he arrives. Perfect. He has his diamonds in hand before he even enters the Barge. He buys his stacks and leaves again.

It takes him much longer that he would've liked to find a desert that isn't fucking empty. He takes his shovel and vigorously scoops up as much as he can. Sure, he could've just bought sand while he was at Grian's shop, but digging it up himself feels so much better.

He barely notices how much time has truly passed. He has enough sand now, that's what matters He runs one last check through his inventory and spots the iron he took earlier. Fuck. I forgot it, he realizes.

It doesn't take him too long to locate some gravel. He dives into the water with his last shovel and emerges with flint in hand. He's ready.

Wilbur quickly assembles his crafting table and gets to work. He throws his bags of sand and the gunpowder he purchased down next to him. The motions are familiar. Paper, sand, gunpowder, thread, roll, tie, repeat. He'd done it a thousand times before.

4 and a quarter stacks. Not nearly as much as 11 and a half, but it'll work.

The lanky man places a few down in front of him. Not all of it, he says to himself, save it.

Here he stands, alone in a desert, with a set of flint and steel in hand, repeating history again. It's destiny, his mind supplies. He strikes the rock against the metal. He got a flame first try. How perfect.

The orange light trickles down the white string. It's almost like the thing is teasing the madman. C'mon. Do it. Move faster!

"Wilbur!" someone shouts behind him.

Boom!

--manifold's comment: OH MY GOD. OH MY GOD. HOLY SHIT YOU'RE A GENIUS. I'M LOSING MY MIND THIS IS SO GOOD???--

[classiestcadaver]

Reblogging is much appreciated!

A prequel to a story I wrote a short time ago! People actually seemed to like my writing so I wanted to continue this..? So here- I hope ya like it!

Excuse any typos! And sorry if Techno seems ooc, this is the second time I've ever written his character :')

•○♡○•

Children where something Technoblade never found himslef enamoured with. His experience with Tommy during their younger years enforced the idea of never bothering with the whole "parenthood" idea.

All that screaming, yelling, fussing, and whining was something Technoblade thought he'd never have to deal with after leaving the house and traveling the world.

But of course, the universe works in mysterious ways.

The End was as desolate and barren wasteland. Techno had expected a fight apon entering the Ender Portal, equipped with potions and weapons galore. But the tales of a powerful End Beast proved to be false; the only thing that greeted him where a few wayward endermen.

Technoblade walks around the empty space, observing the incredibly tall Obsidian towers with awe. His attention is quickly focused to the fountain looking structure in the middle of the towers. He hums to himself, unsheathing is sword as he trots closer to the odd structure.

He hesitates when a small whimper eminates from the fountain, his hand gripping his sword tighter as he slowly walks forward.

" Anyone there? " Technoblade calls, stopping a few feet away from the bedrock structure. His ears prick when the sound of a seemingly Injured endermen comes from the the other side of the fountain.

A head pokes out from the side of the structure, red and green eyes meeting brown in an instant. Technos grip on the sword lessens when the small humanoid hesitantly creeps out, slowly rising to their feet.

It looks like a child, one of Enderman decent at first glance. But even from this distance Technoblade could easily tell that there was something wrong. One half of their face looked like a Endermen, the skin being purplish-black on one side of their face while the other was white, almost passing for that of a human if it weren't for the red eyes and pointed ears.

Technoblade huffs, brows furrowed as the tip of his sword hits the hard ground. The ender child appears to be somewhat of a shapeshifter, given the digigraded legs and clawed hands, it was almost a given. But could he also be half enderman? Techno noticed the small purple flecks floating around the boys eyes, smiliar to that of an enderman. A few would bounce off his face and hit the ground, sizzling as they hit the floor before fading away like embers.

Technoblade stiffens when a noise comes from the kid. The shapeshifters mouth opened and closed, warped sounds only an enderman could make comming out.

" Heh?" He quickly put the dots together that the child was attempting to speak to him. Technoblade snorts, shifting on his hooves uncomfortably. If it was an enderman, or even a hybrid of one, then surely the others of his kind where taking care of the kid? He didnt look malnourished or sick, at least at this distance.

There was a long pause as they stood facing one and other before Technoblade decidedly ends their stand off. Hesitantly, Techno backs up a few steps away from the child, eyes trained on them; eventually he takes his gaze away from them when be finds a comfortable distance, and continues his exploration in the End.

XXX

Besides finding chorus trees and a few shulkers, along with a Ender Village, there wasn't much to be had in the End. It was obvious someone, or something, had been here before, and left little behind in their escapade in the dimension.

Using a ender pearl, Technoblade finds himself back on the floating island with obsidian towers. He quickly begins to make his way back to the fountain, discovering that the bedrock structure was actually a portal back home from reading a nearly destroyed book in the End Village.

He stops a few feet away from the fountain when a familiar sound reaches his ears. Techno looks around, brown eyes narrowed when they meet a familiar pair of heterochromic green and red eyes. The black and white hybrid from earlier was sitting against the bed rock, a purple stick in their hand as they sketched something into the sandy earth below.

The shapeshifter hybrid appeared much taller up close, their supernatural features more prominent at this distance. A small warped chirp escapes the child. It seemed that the kid had anticipated Technoblades return, and had waited for him- but only for a reason that seemed obvious to the Shifter.

They stand, wide eyes looking up at Technoblade with a sort of fascination as they edge closer to the Piglin.

" Ah- ah no- stay right there. " Technoblade snorts, pointing a clawed finger at the child. They still, but another noise escapes them, sounding more curious than sad.

" Go find your mother or somethin', go, shoo. " Technoblade ushers the small thing away, glancing around him to make sure he hadn't upset one of the Enderman still hanging about. His attention is drawn back to kid when it makes a loud, warbled cry. It gestures to the portal then toward itself and then Technoblade, making odd chirping noises all the while.

Techno cringes away, mind working a mile a minute before figuring out that the Shapeshifter was asking Technoblade to take him through the portal. A loud exasperated snort escapes Techno, shaking his head all the while.

This couldn't be happening right now, absolutely no way in hell was Technoblade taking a random child he literally just met, practically kidnapping him, to another dimension. In a swift motion, he steps onto the fountain, completely ignoring the continuously loud warped chirps and warbles comming from the smaller shapeshifter child.

He's about to take the plunging step into the Portal, ready to leave this nightmare behind him. But theres a small tug on his cape, so weak and barely noticable he almost doesn't turn around.

Technoblade frowns, furrowing his brows as he slowly turns his head around, eyes cast downward as he meets the gaze of the Shapeshifter.

Broken english mingled with the warped sound of an enderman leaves the Shiftlings mouth.

" Please."

•○♡○•

If you've read my last story it's quite obvious what happens next! But to those who haven't, I suppose it's sort of a open ending.

Well anyways- hope you enjoyed it! I genuinely love writing these characters so I'll definitely have more content out, maybe not soon, but for sure in the near future!

[skzss]

Walk with me

Member: Any? Written with Lee Minho in mind but it’s never specified so  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ x reader

Warnings: Car crashes, death, slight claustrophobia, slight nyctophobia (fear of darkness)

Genre: Angst

Word count: 1997

Description: You don’t know at all what happens after death but at least there’s someone there to guide you.

Author’s notes: I had an existential crisis thinking about my life and what it would mean if I died right now and then I got to thinking about how reapers are much kinder than we think they are. After all, they guide us through to the other side, wherever that is, so we’re never alone. 

You knew this day was coming. 

After all, everyone dies someday. Some go easier than others but everyone goes someday. 

You had hoped, in vain, that you would die a little softer and a little gentler than you did. But you don’t get to choose these things. You remember screaming, hearing squealing wheels and smelling burning leather. You remember feeling very hot then very cold. You remember flashing lights before your consciousness dripped away. 

“Hey.” You feel someone shaking you. “Wake up already.” 

Huh? Aren’t you supposed to be dead? That car hit right against your passenger side door, there’s no way you’re not dead right? You crack open an eye and it’s dark. Definitely not the hospital then because those places are always the worst sort of fluorescent yellow light. It doesn’t smell like any kind of hospital either. The air is rich with decay and you wrinkle your nose at it. The voice you heard scoffs, mutters a “typical human”. You look up and you blink, once, twice. 

A hooded figure towers over you. A reaper holding a stereotypical scythe, though this one seems impatient. They nudge you again with their foot, sighing. “Not very fast are you.” 

“I just died, can’t you give me some slack?!” You grumble as you sit up, surveying your surroundings. You don’t see the crash anymore, or your body, though that’s for the better. You might be mangled up by now and you definitely don’t want to see that. 

“No, I’ve got other souls to see too. Let’s go.” The figure doesn’t even bother offering you a hand, instead immediately striding off. You scramble to your feet and dart to their side. It’s much too dark for you to find your way without them. Way to where you’re not even sure but you sure as hell don’t want to be left behind here. They set a breakneck pace and you struggle a bit to keep up. Even if you’re a spirit now, a soul or whatever, you still aren’t very fast. Apparently your dead lungs still transmit signals to your dead brain to slow down. You couldn’t exactly wheeze but your ghost got as close to that as possible. Sparing you a glance, the reaper slows down marginally and you manage to catch up. 

“So,” you huff, “where am I going?” You weren’t a bad person. You weren’t necessarily good either. Everyday, you just lived your life, with some care for the world around you and some care for yourself. Whenever you could you’d use recycled materials or avoid printing excess pages, but you didn’t stop using plastic entirely or give up your air conditioner either. The best you could hope for was probably something akin to purgatory, where you’d be neither heralded nor hurt. 

“You’ll see,” they say. You frown. First of all, cryptic as fuck. Secondly, why do they sound so annoyed? If anything, shouldn’t you be annoyed at dying? You grumble under your breath but they don’t seem to care at all. 

For a while it’s quiet. There’s no sounds, even from your plodding footsteps. You don’t feel any  more tired than you did when you first started. Perhaps you could walk infinity without feeling tired. The figure next to you glides along, ever forward without taking any turns. Though could they even take turns in this vast, endless darkness? 

Your mind wanders back to your life, or rather who’s left alive. You hope someone will take care of your cat. She does get rather hissy when she isn’t fed on time. Someone will probably tell your parents. Your heart clenches. Your mom will probably collapse on the spot in shock while your dad silently holds her, hands gripped tight around her arms. They’ll ask to see your body maybe. They’ll definitely cry. You send a quiet apology for dying so soon. Your friends, they’ll know too sooner or later. You apologize to them too even though they’ll never hear. Hopefully they’ll divide your belongings among themselves without too much fuss. Your mom will want some of it but the vast majority of your stuff will go somewhere else. 

“Will you stop,” a voice snarls. You snap your head up to look at the figure who’s gripping their scythe so tight it’s turning their knuckles white. Now that you’re looking at them properly, they kind of look like a regular person. You can’t see under the hood exactly but their hand isn’t skeletal at all. Their fingers twitch on the pole. “You’re thinking too loud.” 

You stop. “You can hear that?” 

They groan and stop as well, a few feet ahead of you. “Sort of. It’s not the exact thought if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

Your face scrunches up. “What does that mean? You’re sensing auras or something?”

They snort. “Sure, auras. Feelings. Whatever you want to call it.” 

Ugh, just what you needed. A nosy reaper to take you into the void. You start walking again, standing next to them and waiting for them to continue onward. They seem to look you up and down before doing so. 

“So what am I supposed to do while we walk? Does this ever end or am I stuck strolling around with you?” You sigh, throwing your hands up in the air. 

“As if. I told you, I’ve got other souls to see too.” 

“So then when-” you start but they silence you with a flick of their wrist. 

“You will know when we get there.” 

Again, cryptic and unhelpful but you sigh and allow the silence to fall again. If you’re not going to get answers out of this guy then why bother? But since you can’t dwell in your thoughts too long, you don’t know what to do. What were you doing before the crash? Singing? Probably. You love music, so much that you were constantly listening to it. Even in your sleep! Perhaps the only moments of silence in your life were when you were taking exams for school. 

What was the last song you were playing? Hopefully something good. Your playlists weren’t exactly filtered through so some of the songs were from before your music tastes changed. You hear a defeated sigh. “You were listening to Teenager. GOT7.” Well, you muse, at least it was a good song. 

You wonder how much long you’ll be walking but apparently the answer was not long at all. The pure black melts into a gloomy grey so you can see a little better. The reaper holds an arm out in front of you, making you stop in front of what seems to be nothing truthfully. But you can sense something from the space in front of you and well, your guide should definitely know what’s going on. 

“Wait here.” They push you back just a bit before stepping forward and- You blink. They’re gone, utterly vanished into that pale light. If you squint just a little harder, you can see the barest outline of a doorway. 

Left out there by yourself, it’s… Eerie. It may not be pitch black anymore but even in the dim light, you feel uneasy. Your skin crawls because it’s too quiet. There’s not a sound at all, nothing to indicate that this space even really exists. Or that you exist. That reaper had really put you at ease, hadn’t they? Walking by your side, a presence to shield you from some of the suffocating clutches of the vast void. You regret being a little impatient with them now, even as you hope to whatever deity listens that they’ll be back soon. Something tells you that you don’t want to be left here, alone, for any reason at all. You can’t help pacing around a little, thumb coming up to your mouth. Bad habits don’t die apparently. 

Your throat feels tight and it’s hard to breathe and everything feels smaller even though it’s just a great empty nothing and and and-

“Quit that.” You jerk your head up to see the reaper. Even from their voice they sound agitated but when you look up, you actually. Woah. 

He’s really cute. His lips are drawn in a tight line and his forehead is wrinkled as he stares down at you. Wait, since when were you on the floor, crumpled up like this? You jump up, a little unsteady. Fuck that’s embarrassing. Anyways, back to the cute guy who’s apparently been walking by your side the whole time. 

“Come on.” 

The door materializes, heavy and dark wood. It looks as ominous as you would expect but there’s also comfort in seeing something so real. You attempt to take a step forward but your legs give out. Now of all times, you think as you collapse. The guy sucks in a breath and darts forward to catch you even a little, his hand gripping your arm tight. “Sorry,” you mumble, your other hand firm on the ground. “Sorry, I’ll get up, I-” 

Your brain races to recap this whole situation. You’re dead. You died and you left everyone you loved behind and you never did anything meaningful with your stupid life and you, you, you-

You’re crying. You’re crying and your tears are warm. Some part of you thought they’d be cold. But they’re warm, down your cheeks and your chin and your nose. Your hands tremble even as they fly to your face and touch the tracks carved. Your chest heaves and you cry awfully human like for a ghost. 

Since when were you cradled in his chest? Since when had he set you down and pulled you quietly, gently into his arms? Since when had he begun to sing, a melody so soft it breaks your heart? He rocks you right there on the floor, surrounded by terrible gloom. He’s awfully warm for a reaper.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, again and again and again. Your face is pressed right into his robe and he’s shifted to stroking your head, tangling and detangling his fingers from your hair. “I’m sorry.” 

He clicks his tongue. “This is why you’re all so troublesome.” But he still keeps stroking, steadily draining away your desolation. 

You’ve never really given thought to reapers. They’re caricatures of Halloween and death and usually overly sinister to the point of being ridiculously goofy. But this one isn’t like that. He’s not just a skeleton dressed in a scary robe, using his scythe to tear down lives. He didn’t make you die. All he did was wake you up and walk with you through what could’ve been years of darkness. You grip his robes and look up. You probably look like shit honestly, with puffy red eyes and red cheeks. He looks down to meet you with a slight curve to his lips. “You’ve stopped crying.” Ah, how beautiful he is like this. 

You swallow. “I’m sorry.”

“Well, it was to be expected. You didn’t die very nicely. Actually, I’m surprised you didn’t break halfway through.” He stands and offers you his hand. You take it with more strength than you thought you had. “Now, are you ready to go?” He gestures to the door. It creaks open but you can’t see what’s beyond. 

But you are, strangely, ready. Did you leave behind everything you had? All your regrets and sadness, there on the floor in his arms? Just what kind of magic did he cast on you? 

You take a deep breath and step forward until you’re just before the door. He’s held onto your hands this whole time and some part of you expected him to continue through the door. But he lets your hand float out of his own as you pass through. You whip around and manage to catch one last glimpse. 

Oh, how sad he looks, with his kind smile and crying eyes. It was a blessing to have him by your side as you went, wasn’t it? You muster up everything you have to shout.

“Thank you!”

[sicparvismorrigan]

Crisis of Faith

The will of God brings a young and impressionable Trinity soldier to the attention of Commander Konstantin.

Tomb Raider/Rise of the Tomb Raider/Konstantin

Viewpoint: 3rd person female Trinity soldier OC

Warnings: blood, descriptions of violence, PTSD, religious fanaticism, stigmata

Word count: ~2.5k [complete]

A short fic I wrote because I wanted to play with Konstantin’s heavily religious side.

Read on Ao3

Death.

Ailish sat up on her cot, freezing cold. She was drenched in sweat and panting heavily. It was pitch black in the gulag and she tried to slow her breathing so she wouldn’t wake her comrades. She listened carefully, there was snoring coming from all directions. Nobody had heard her, not yet.

She was safe. She was surrounded by big men with weapons, nothing could hurt her here. All the prisoners were securely locked up. Ailish reached down and felt the comforting cool steel of her own pistol in its holster.

She breathed in deep and counted 1...2...3... before breathing out again. Her pulse was still racing and she could feel her heart trying to leap out of her ribcage.

Safe. I’m safe.

It had been nearly two years since Yamatai and Ailish still had nightmares. She knew exactly what it was: Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. She had heard the guys talk, knew some of them struggled too. She had seen a few get discharged because of it. She’d spent a long time trying to convince herself she was fine. But in fact, she really wasn’t.

She needed air. Ailish quietly got out of her cot and shrugged on a few more layers before making sure her pistol was strapped to her body, just in case. She tiptoed past the guys by the light from her torch, and made her way out to the old guardhouse that was their temporary mess area. She just wanted some space to calm down.

Empty, thank God. The embers of the fire were enough to keep the warmth going. She pulled up a chair and settled in to watch the glow.

She kept replaying the last moments of her nightmare over and over in her head, despite trying her best to push it away. They were in that god-awful pit again, suffocating from the fumes. She checked ahead and yelled Clear! back to her second, Charlie. As he moved past her she heard something big land on the rock of the cavern floor behind them. Charlie swung back around and screamed at her to get down as a God-awful roar filled the cave, rattling her bones. He raised his gun to fire and Ailish shrieked at him stopitsgonnablow-

bang bang

 

BOOM

A flash of white light, then darkness. Waking up in terror once again from the memories that haunted her every night. At least she was alive, she had made it out. Charlie hadn’t, she couldn’t save him. She still blamed herself. The guys had tried to convince her again and again it was an accident, but she should have been there. In her dreams, she’d seen Charlie die a hundred times over, each more horrible than the last.

She had never been so close to quitting as she had after Yamatai. She had composed her resignation letter in her head on the helicopter ride back to civilization, but had never written it. Something told her it wasn’t time yet. She’d spent just over three years working with Trinity at that point and never questioned her beliefs before the clean-up mission to that hellhole. By all accounts it was even worse during the Nishimura expedition. She shuddered, it didn’t bear thinking about, how anyone could survive there for any length of time she’d never know. So many bodies. And in some places, the smell, it was unholy.

It didn’t help her sleep at night, but at least she had got a promotion out of it. The salary was great, which was a major reason for her staying put. Ailish was trying to help her parents put her younger sister through Yale, and every cent counted. Her mom and dad had just been grateful, and thankfully hadn’t yet asked where the money had come from. She didn’t want to have to lie. They’d hit the roof if they ever found out. As far as they were concerned, she was still working as a paralegal in Chicago. God, she missed her sister. She hadn’t seen her in months, and now Ailish was off-grid in Siberia. Freezing cold, snowy, desolate Siberia.

She was startled out of her thoughts by a voice outside. A deep voice, American accent. It sounded a lot like the Commander. She really hoped he wouldn’t come into the guardhouse. He was intimidating, and she’d never been in a room alone with him before. He sounded like he was talking on the phone.

“...and what did the doctor say?”

...

“Okay...Ana, are you smoking?”

...

“Yeah, I know, but-“

...

“Listen, she’s on the move. She may even already be in Siberia. I need you back here.”

...

“Got it, see you soon.”

 

Who was Ana? Was it his wife, girlfriend, daughter? Who was the other ‘she’ he was talking about?

Ailish heard footsteps coming up to the door and the latch lifting. Oh boy, here we go. I wasn’t eavesdropping, Commander, I swear.

He stopped dead when she saw her at the table. Obviously not expecting anyone else to be awake at this hour. He slid the cellphone he was carrying into a pocket and nodded at her before closing the door behind him. “Sergeant.”

“Evening-“ Ailish checked her watch. “Ah, morning, Commander. Sorry, sir. I’ll get out of your way.” She slid her chair back to leave.

“Stay. You were here first.” Ailish sat back down immediately, wide-eyed. “What are you doing up so late?”

“I couldn’t sleep, sir.” Not strictly true but she didn’t want to feel like a little schoolkid telling her superior she had a bad dream.

“Likewise.” He pulled up the chair opposite her and sat down with a sigh.

Something was bothering him, he seemed fidgety. Ailish didn’t really know what to do so she started twiddling her thumbs and rambling to fill the silence. “Gee, the weather’s really turned these past few days, huh? Ha ha...kind of makes me wish we were back in Syria. Although it was almost too hot-“

He cut her off. “Moscovitch, isn’t it?”

“Yes, sir.”

“We’re not on duty, you don’t have to call me sir.”

“Uh- yes. Okay, si- eh...Command- uhmm...”

“Konstantin is fine.”

“Okay.” It felt weird. Ailish wasn’t even sure if that was his first or last name. “You can call me Ailish. It’s slightly less of a mouthful than Moscovitch.”

“Don’t hear that name very often.”

“Yeah, it’s a weird one...my parents have always had this fascination with Ireland. It means ‘noble and kind’ or something like that...I dunno...”

He looked at her for a long moment. Ailish opened her mouth to speak again when a wolf howled up in the mountains. She grabbed for her pistol and her other hand tightened on the edge of the table until her knuckles turned white.

Konstantin saw her reaction and frowned. “Relax, it’s just a wolf, they don’t come down here-“

“Yeah, I know.” She started hyperventilating and bit her lip hard to fight back the tears. For God’s sake, don’t cry in front of the Commander. She hated hearing the wolves at night. Rationally, she knew they were miles away, but the sound still caused her pain.

For a moment she was back on Yamatai, wedged in a rocky crevice listening to the snarling as they hunted for her. The smell of rain, tree sap and decay all around. Her hands shaking as she pointed her rifle at the opening, just waiting for jaws and teeth to emerge around the corner and grab at her.

“Oh, shit.” This was going to be a bad episode. She’d had panic attacks increasingly often and could spot the signs of one approaching. Fortunately they usually hit when she was alone or could sneak away, but now she had no such luxury. Ailish knew this one had her beat.

Konstantin’s mouth tightened. “Language.”

She had time to blurt out “Terribly sorry sir!” before she slid off the chair onto the floor and crawled under the table.

The tears were now pouring out and rolling down her cheeks. What an embarrassment. She’d fought so hard to prove she was equal to the guys, and now she was being a silly little girl.

She felt the Commander’s boot gently tapping her back. “Mos- Ailish? Are you okay?”

“I will be, in a minute.” She panted.

Through the panic she heard the other chair scraping backwards. To her surprise Konstantin crouched and got down to her level under the table, facing her. Was he supposed to do that?

“You’ve normally got it together, Moscovitch.” Oh no, back on a last name basis. She’d definitely messed up. “Want to tell me what’s going on?”

Ailish shook her head, squeezing her eyes shut. “Just need a sec.”

The only sounds in the room were her panting and the low crackle of logs in the burner. She felt his gloved hand on her shoulder.

He quietly spoke. “Listen, I read the Yamatai report.” It was strange, how calming his voice was.

Ailish looked up, misty-eyed. “Yeah?”

He nodded. “I didn’t know they’d be sending a woman.”

“I’m just as capable-“

“Quiet. I’m saying it’s impressive you completed the mission, and even led part of the way, that place sounded like a nightmare.”

“It was.” Charlie, I should have saved you.

“And I am sorry you lost Corporal Collins. I know you were close.”

“Yeah...” she sniffed loudly. Her heart still hurt, so much. “He was like a brother. Charlie would have done anything for me. And I would have done the same for him.”

His eyes softened. “I know what that’s like.”

It meant a lot to Ailish, getting commiserations from a Trinity leader. Normally, you could forget about that sort of thing. Rourke had co-ordinated the Yamatai mission and hadn’t said a word to her when he had met them back on the mainland for debriefing. Dominguez had been silent too, though he had been one of those who had approved her promotion. They could be a heartless, insensitive bunch sometimes.

But she hadn’t expected the Commander to have a soft side. He actually reminded her of Charlie. Konstantin had a scarred-up face but there were similarities for sure. Blonde hair, blue eyes, they walked with the same purpose. He wasn’t bad-looking actually, as long as the light was dim.

Ailish eventually rallied and crawled back into her chair, still breathing quickly. Konstantin sat down too, regarding her with something akin to concern.

“Tell me the real reason you’re here by yourself in the middle of the night.”

She swallowed hard. “I...I have nightmares still.”

He shook his head. “I think you should talk to someone about this. If you’re serious about staying with Trinity. It would be a shame to bail out now that you’re a Sergeant.”

“I’m fine.” Ailish mumbled.

“You’re really not. I know someone who might be able to help, a doctor.”

“No, honestly...” Please no doctors, they might kick her out. She needed the money for Ellen’s tuition, she had to stay.

“I trust her, she’s with Trinity. Her name’s Wilkens. If I order you to see her you can’t say no.”

“Then I suppose it’s settled.” Great, just great.

“Indeed.”

He suddenly pulled his gloves off and took her hand in his. Ailish fought not to pull back out of his grasp. Was this really appropriate? Her free hand was reaching for her pistol when she realised he was just checking her pulse.

“Much better. Almost back to normal.”

She managed a small smile. “Thank you Commander.”

Ailish realised her hand felt strange under his, like a bug was crawling on her. She glanced down and started. “Your...uh, your hand is bleeding.”

Fresh blood was running down between her fingers onto the table. It was creepy as hell, she tried not to shiver. She’d been a bit squeamish about blood since she’d seen a literal underground river of it in Japan.

He didn’t react, just looked straight into her eyes. Ailish didn’t know what he expected her to do. She could still feel it trickling down her skin. Was he not alarmed that his hand had just started pouring blood? She was becoming visibly uncomfortable when he finally answered her.

“They’re old wounds. It happens sometimes.” He held up his other hand, palm facing towards her. “See?” That one was also dripping crimson.

Ailish almost gagged. Ugh, now she knew why he wore gloves all the time, even in the heat of Syria. What was the name for those wounds? Stigmata, or something like that. A sign of divine favour, apparently.

The urge to ask how he got them was overwhelming. Actually, she better not, it was maybe a touchy subject. The Commander could be...violent. She’d seen what he could do when he was pissed off. She had the fleeting thought that maybe he would hurt her, or worse, if the mood took him. Everyone else was asleep, who would know?

He spoke, jolting her back to reality. “Did you pray on Yamatai, Ailish?”

She nodded, not breaking the eye contact. “Yes sir, for my life, almost constantly.”

“And you truly believe in what we are trying to accomplish?”

“Yes sir.”

“Hmmm...”

There was a long pause, he seemed to be having an internal conversation she wasn’t privy to. Finally he nodded. “Keep your faith, Ailish. You have already been tested, and you’re still here. I believe you are destined for something greater, like myself.”

“Sir?”

He smiled at her, but it was cold and calculating, he reminded her of a shark. His eyes were suddenly dark and empty. 

“The name Ailish is Celtic, yes. But did you know it has a different meaning in Hebrew?”

“You know Hebrew?” She asked in surprise. He ignored her.

“Your name means consecrated to God.”

She wasn’t sure she liked his train of thought. Ailish knew he was one of the more devout members of Trinity, but she didn’t know how deep it ran.

“I’m sorry, Commander, I’m not sure what you’re getting at...”

“I want to keep a closer eye on you, Sergeant. You report directly to me now, do you understand?”

“Yes sir.” She nodded, albeit reluctantly.

“And let me talk to Wilkens. We’ll help you, don’t skip out on Trinity yet.” He finally let go of her bloodstained hand. Ailish could smell it, metallic.

Konstantin stood up, pulling his gloves on. “I have a feeling we’re going to need you for something important.”

Ailish was dumbfounded, what had she agreed to? She didn’t like not knowing, but the Commander wasn’t a man you just said no to.

As he opened the door with a blast of cold air Konstantin turned back, giving her that empty smile again. “Get some sleep, Sergeant. That’s an order.”

“O...kay.” The door clicked shut, and he was gone.

Ailish glanced down at the mess on her hand. She felt like she’d been marked in some way.

Stigmata.

What did he mean?

Consecrated to God. What was it that Konstantin, or some other higher power had planned for her?

What was her purpose?

***

Thank you for reading!

~ Anyone who has read Behind Trinity Lines will recognise the character of Dr. Joanna Wilkens, I couldn’t not include her somehow! She is awesome and I love her. All credit to @BrittanyTheScrivener on Ao3 for Jo’s character. Her work is brilliant, if you haven’t read it I highly suggest you do

~ Sergeant Ailish Moscovitch, her family and Corporal Charlie Collins are my characters, all other characters mentioned are property of the Tomb Raider creative team and I take no ownership of them

~ I feel I should mention that nothing in this work is intended to cause offence or be blasphemous in any way. I myself am not religious at all but I am respectful of those who choose to be and anything I’ve written is only exploring character traits already displayed in the Tomb Raider video games

~ I have no current plans to update this with more chapters, it was intended to be a one-shot. I just really wanted to play with Konstantin’s heavily religious side. But if there is interest I might continue the story...what exactly does Konstantin have planned for Ailish? Where does she fit in with the events in Rise of the Tomb Raider? What will Ana think of her? What would happen if Ailish and Lara ever crossed paths? This could get interesting...

[tradgicworks]

Heartfelt P-3 Deeper Still

Anna, Eva and Gwyneth are trapped in a mysterious bunker, what's worse is that something might be waiting for them in the dark. WORD COUNT - 5870

Anna woke up to a painfully sore back. Bruises were beginning to form because of Caroline’s beating and the long fall. Unnaturally cold air snaked through Anna’s entire body. Anna sat up as best as she could. She searched for her phone and turned on its light. The pitch black abyss that surrounded her burned into an desolate concrete hallway. Behind her a mountain of shattered debris formed a wall. Broken and dated lights hung from the ceiling by their bare wires. A battered direction plaque leaned against one of the walls, the text long since scraped away by weathering and rust.

Anna slowly got up onto her feet. She took deep shaky breaths as she struggled to move her aching body down the hallway. She eventually found herself at a two way split. To her left was another hallway blocked by rubble. A broken window stood in place of a wall in front of her. She peered over the edge. An abandoned cafeteria stood on a lower floor, bits of shattered glass scattered directly underneath her. Decay ridden plates laid on top of the old tables. Torn apart scraps of clothing and long since forgotten accessories littered the entire room.

“Anna?!” Eva’s voice called out from below.

Anna flashed her light forward and discovered a disgruntled looking Eva crouching over a small pile of scavenged valuables.

“Eva! Are you okay?” Anna asked.

“My butt hurts from the fall, but yeah I’m good,” Eva responded. “What are you doing up there?”

“What are you doing?” Anna gestured to the pile of valuables.

“What?” Eva glanced at the pile. “It’s not like they’re being used.”

“You don’t know who that stuff belongs to-” Anna frowned.

“Goldilocks, don’t be an idiot,” Eva gestured to their desolate surroundings. “Also, I was looking for something useful. Something like this.”

Eva grabbed a lighter from the pile. Its tiny flame sparked to life and barely illuminated her face.

“I was going to use it as a light, but now I got you. Come down here, there should be some stairs to your left- wait crap uh- my left your right,” Eva said before continuing to scavenge through the cafeteria.

Anna turned to her right to find a crumbling set of stairs. She carefully made her way down to the cafeteria and met up with Eva.

Eva’s hoodie was partially torn up. Her hair was unkempt and covered with dirt. Scratch marks and tiny cuts decorated her legs. She brushed off some dust of her skirt and stood up as Anna approached her.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Anna asked as she looked Eva over.

“You don’t look too hot yourself either, Goldilocks, but yeah I’ll live,” Eva responded.

“Good. Do you have any idea where we are?” Anna looked at their surroundings.

“Nope. Hella spooky though, and freezing. Honestly, this whole place just gives me the creeps. But panicking is the last thing we want to do right now,” Eva said as she pocketed the lighter.

“We need to find Gwyneth and get out of here.” Anna said firmly.

“Poor thing is probably bawling her eyes out right now,” Eva commented before turning towards the broken window. “Anything up there?”

“No, just a bunch of dead-ends,” Anna answered.

“Well, I came from over there,” Eva pointed at an offshoot to the left of the cafeteria. “I think- hard to tell in the darkness- which leaves our only option…”

Eva turned and pointed into the hallway in front of them. A plaque limply hung from a single bolt on top of the archway. It read “Living Quarters”.

“...god dammit,” Eva shuddered.

“Maybe we’ll find someone who can help us,” Anna started walking down the hallway.

“This place looks like it's been abandoned for years, Anna. Anything that was once alive in here has probably been dead for a very, very, long time,” Eva followed suit to try to stay near the light. “Though I don’t know if that makes me feel better or worse.”

“We don’t have anywhere else to go and Gwyneth needs our help so we need to hurry up. Maybe you can spin kick a ghost’s head off, if one shows up,” Anna turned back towards Eva with a slightly mischievous smile.

“You are some sort of messed up if you think that’s funny,” Eva huffed.

Anna replied with a drawn out giggle before looking forward again.

“...screw you,” Eva muttered.

After walking for a few moments, they found themselves at a destroyed entryway. Deep jagged cuts tore through the concrete. A thick rusting door laid torn in half by their feet. Dark stains splattered all throughout the floor.

"What the hell happened here?" Eva asked slowly as she surveyed the wreckage.

"Something tore the door open…" Anna replied.

"No, dur. What the hell that 'something' is the question… Could have been a forklift," Eva crouched down to inspect the door.

"I don't think a forklift can split a door in half," Anna looked at her with disillusionment.

"Yeah, but I'd rather be worried about machinery gone rogue than some giant mutant abomination that can cut through us like butter," Eva stood up, forcing herself to smile. "Y'know, I'm being optimistic."

"Don't be paranoid, you said it yourself whatever was down here has long since been-" Anna walked through the door.

Rows of mangled bunk beds were thrown all throughout the room. The shredded innards of mattresses coated the floor. Several skeletons wearing tattered clothes laid against the destruction. One slumped a few feet in front of Anna, it's head missing.

"-dead," Anna barely managed to get the words out.

Eva shrieked with uncharacteristic squeamishness. She crouched away from the room and clutched herself tightly.

"They're dead! What the hell happened here!? What is this place?!" Eva yelled out.

Anna ran up to her.

"Calm down, Eva!" Anna grabbed her shoulders.

"Calm down?! How the hell are you calm right now?! Something broke into this place and killed everyone, that thing could still be alive, we could be slaughtered at any minute. What even is this place anyways? Why is it under a private all girls school of all places? I HAVE NO IDEA HOW YOU'RE CALM RIGHT NOW," Eva yelled at her face.

"Because someone has to be, we can’t afford to panic, remember?" Anna said sternly. "I'm scared too, but we need to get out of here. All of us."

Eva looked up at Anna. Anna's breaths were controlled but shaky. Her eyes were determined but fear lingered in her face. Eva noticed her faint scar. This wasn't the first time Anna was this scared. Eva's breathing steadied.

"You're right. Just give me a couple minutes to calm down," Eva said as she closed her eyes.

"We don't have a couple minutes. Gwyneth could be a danger," Anna said in a soft tone.

"Yeah, yeah! I know!" Eva held out her hand, her eyes still shut. "Lead me to the other side, I'm not good with death and stuff."

"Okay," Anna grabbed her hand and stood up. "You know you can be cute sometimes."

"Keep talking and I'll crush your hand, Goldilocks," Eva growled, her eyes still shut.

Anna and Eva slowly traversed the destroyed room. Anna led Eva through the clutter of bone, forgotten items, and broken scrap. Eva meekly followed Anna’s steps, shuddering ever so slightly everytime she thought that she brushed against a skeleton. Eventually, they made it to the other side only to find another dead-end.

"So much suspense for nothing," Eva grumbled as she opened her eyes again.

"Come on, we must have missed something," Anna said as she turned around.

"No, we didn't. The only thing that we haven't explored is all the blocked hallways."

"Then we better start digging," Anna said matter of factly.

"That would literally take forever," Eva protested.

"Better than being stuck here forever-" Anna started before being interrupted.

"Help." Gwyneth's faint voice called out from underneath them.

Anna and Eva searched around them before noticing a garbage chute partially covered by the rubble.

"Come on!" Anna gestured as she propped her phone on the rubble and started pulling rocks out of the way.

"Dammit and here I thought we could avoid digging," Eva groaned before catching up and helping Anna at a much faster pace.

"Gwyneth, can you hear us?!" Anna yelled down the chute once they cleared it.

"Help." Gwyneth's trembling voice replied.

"Stay put! We're going down to get you!" Anna yelled before grabbing her phone and climbing into the chute.

"Ugh, more crap to wash off. Great," Eva groaned as she got into the chute herself.

The two slid down the grimy chute and fell into a massive dump. Trash bags full of maggots and rotting junk made the entirety of the floor. The stench of filth mixed with the frigid air to create an overwhelming air of dread. Identical chutes lined the walls like holes that stretched into the unknown. Most were out of reach and the rest clogged by piled on garbage. Anna flashed her light throughout the room. Dark splotches of mold splattered against the walls. A slick coating of putrid violet flesh squirmed as the light washed over it. Cysts full of an unknown fluid sparked to life, lighting the room with an otherworldly purple glow. Strange human sized cocoons, about 17 in total, hung from the ceiling. They wriggled ever so slightly.

"W-What is this?" Eva whimpered.

"We need to get out of here!" Anna yelled.

"Help. Please." Gwyneth's voice called out before they could do anything.

"God dammit," Eva said with a shaky voice as she ran towards Gwyneth's voice.

"Gwyneth, we’re coming!" Anna said as she followed Eva.

"Lets quickly grab her and get out of this hell hole!" Eva climbed over a mound of trash, her feet pushing against several half empty bottles of alcohol.

A few feet in front of Eva sat Gwyneth curled up into a ball. Strange and incredibly faint cuts swirled their way up the entirety of her body. Her uniform was barely held together by tatters. Blood poured from her temple onto the trash below.

"Anna, I found her. She's in really bad shape!" Eva yelled as she kneeled next to Gwyneth.

Anna soon caught up and went to her side as well. The two of them propped Gwyneth on their shoulders and began to carry her.

"How do we get out? We can't carry her back up the chute," Anna said as they began to slowly walk forward.

"Look for an exit, there has to be one somewhere," Eva replied.

"Door." Gwyneth limply pointed at the wall opposite to them.

An old, nearly rusted over door labeled “Maintenance” stood in the middle of the wall. Anna and Eva nodded to each other before moving towards the door. The flesh on the walls began to writhe uncontrollably as it crept closer and closer towards them. One of the cocoons shook violently as something tried to force its way out.

"We need to hurry," Anna said as she picked up her pace.

"I'm trying but deadweight over here ain't exactly helping. Soft my ass, she's heavy as all hell-" Eva complained.

"GET AWAY FROM IT!" Gwyneth's voice boomed from above them.

Anna looked up at the ceiling. Gwyneth hung upside down from the cocoon that shook violently. She took heavy exhausted breaths. Her face was horrified.

"Wait, who the hell is this then?-" Eva turned to face the Gwyneth they were carrying only to get thrown across the room.

"EVA!" Anna yelled as Eva smashed against a pile of trash bags and rolled onto the floor.

Anna quickly moved away from the fake Gwyneth and grabbed a broken iron pipe from the junk. She turned around and swung hard against the fake Gwyneth's temple. The pipe snapped into two pieces as it collided against the fake Gwyneth, seemingly unharmed. Anna clutched her aching palms that hurt from the recoil of the blow. The fake Gwyneth tilted it's head to the one side.

"Help. You." It said slowly in a deep breathy voice.

The fake Gwyneth began to twitch violently. The cuts throughout its body burst open. The sound of cracking bones echoed out of it as it began to shift it's form. It's body twisted and unraveled from Gwyneth's skin to putrid purple muscles. It's limbs crunched as they elongated to their original length. Rows of fang like bones stabbed through it's slimy skin and formed a light suit of armor. It's hair melted into three squishy points that resembled a jester's hat. It's face hollowed into a mouthless, nose-less, and eyeless mask- deep indentations sitting where the eyes should be. Tendrils slithered through the cracks in its body and finished shifting everything into its place. A pitch black orb rolled out of it's stomach and up into a cavity in its chest. A slab of bony ribs slid over it as it clicked into place. The Jester hunched over Anna, it's hideous form towering several feet above her.

Anna stood scared stiff at the transformation that occurred in front of her.

"Anna!" Gwyneth yelled as the Jester raised it's arm and large claws shot out of it.

Anna's face hardened as she snapped back to life. She narrowly ducked out of the way as the claws cleaved through the concrete effortlessly. Anna hopped back onto her feet and threw her broken pipe at the Jester’s head. It bounced off it doing no harm.

"Just run! You can’t hurt that thing!" Gwyneth yelled from above.

The Jester let out a raspy howl and turned towards Anna. Anna narrowly sidestepped the tendrils that shot out of its body and past her. Before she could react, it yanked itself towards her with blinding speed and pinned her against the ground. Anna struggled in vain as the Jester’s face cracked open and numerous tendrils poured out of it.

"Save. You." It gargled out as the tendrils began wrapping around Anna's body.

Anna's breaths quickened to panicked pants as her body became harder and harder to move. She took one last shaky breath as everything around her was plunged into darkness. Anna shivered as she felt herself get wrapped in a cold, damp cocoon.

"...help me….save me," Anna heard very faintly in the back of her head.

Anna gasped in a heavy breath of air as the tendrils suddenly shriveled up around her. She looked up to see the Jester engulfed in flames. Shards of a broken liquor bottle were stuck to its face. Anna rolled out of the way and got back onto her feet.

"Now we're even, Anna," Eva yelled through gritted teeth from the top of a pile of garbage, a lit Molotov cocktail in hand.

The Jester howled in pain as the fire ate at its boney flesh.

"Shut it you ugly crone," Eva screamed as she threw another Molotov against its body.

Anna ran towards Gwyneth.

"Gwyneth, drop down I’ll catch you!" She shouted at her.

"The drop is too long, I don’t think I can-" Gwyneth said nervously.

"Don't worry, I'll catch you," Anna said firmly.

"O-okay" Gwyneth whimpered.

Gwyneth shut her eyes as she pushed against the cocoon. She shrieked loudly as she fell from the ceiling. Anna braced herself and caught her as she fell, sending the two of them onto the floor.

"You okay?" Anna grunted.

"I'm okay," Gwyneth replied slowly.

"Glad you're both safe," Eva said quickly as she ran up to them. "But on your feet, I'm out of junkyard moonshine to light on fire.".

Eva helped Anna and Gwyneth onto their feet and the three of them ran towards the door. Anna rammed it open and the three found themselves at yet another dead end.

"What a sadistic piece of crap, it wanted to lead us to a dead end to kill us!" Eva exclaimed.

"Not exactly," Anna pointed to an exposed air vent on the ceiling.

"Finally, somewhere I can get to easily" Eva said as she ran up to the vent and jumped upwards.

Eva grabbed the ends of the vent and pulled herself up.

"Your turn, Gwyneth," Eva held her hand out.

"Come on we have to hurry," Anna said as she kneeled under the vent and held her hands ready to boost Gwyneth up. "Hop on".

Gwyneth shakingly stood on Anna's hands. Together the two of them managed to pull Gwyneth up into the vent.

"Goldilocks!" Eva exclaimed as she stuck her hand out.

Anna was about to jump when the door burst completely off its hinges. The Jester forced its way in. The melted flesh on its face slowly squirmed back into place. Two tendrils shot past Anna and into the rubble behind her.

Anna threw herself prone onto the floor. The Jester pounced above her into the rubble behind her.

“That won’t work on me twice,” Anna said with a determined glare.

She jumped and caught Eva’s hand. An echoing roar coursed up to them as she climbed into the air ducts.

“SAVE. YOU.” It roared as its alcohol drenched tendrils stabbed into the air ducts.

“God damn persistent piece of-” Eva grunted as she sparked her lighter to life.

She quickly crushed it against the duct. The lighter fluid ignited into a weak flame, but it was enough to reignite the alcohol and cause the tendrils to retreat in howling pain. The three of them began crawling through the air ducts as fast as they could. Eventually they found themselves at an old vent cover.

“Well, without that lighter we can't defend ourselves. Let’s hurry and get the hell out of here,” Eva huffed with adrenaline as she kicked open the vent cover.

“We must be closer to the surface by now. Hopefully we can find out from here,” Anna said as she hopped out of the air ducts.

“Y-Yeah…” Gwyneth said quietly as she hopped out as well.

“What’s wrong?” Anna asked with a tender gaze.

“I’m cold,” Gwyneth shivered.

Her clothes were soaked in a mysterious fluid that was frigid to the touch.

“Jesus, that thing really did a number on you huh?” Eva said as she took off her hoodie.

It was cheaply made and several sizes too big. The large gash tore through one of the pockets, making it so that it barely hung onto the hoodie.

“Wear it, warm up. It’s not much but the last thing I want is to be dragging around a corpse,” Eva tossed it towards Gwyneth.

“Thank you…” Gwyneth looked at it for a few seconds before putting it on.

The three of them surveyed their surroundings and found themselves in a nearly empty room. A large vault gate took the place of the wall farthest to them. Eight massive deadbolts lined each side of it, locking the gate more than securely in place. A small cubicle hugged the corner of one of the rooms.

“I think this is our way out,” Gwyneth said as she walked into the cubicle.

It was a cramped thing with barely enough room for the chair and computer that sat in it. The computer was incredibly dated. It had an LCD display and a clunky keyboard that was covered in a thick layer of dust. Latched onto the wall was a broken in half shotgun. Gwyneth sat down and turned the computer on, its screen hummed to life.

“What are you doing?” Eva raised a brow as Gwyneth began clicking away.

“Seeing if there is anything useful on this thing,” Gwyneth squinted as she wrote command after command.

“So... are you like hacking it?” Eva said with a tinge of meekness.

“No, I don’t know how to do that. But I have some friends that love computers and they taught me how to use old operating systems like this one. They also taught me how to fiddle with radio signals, that's how I was able to mess with Warden 06’s radio before,” Gwyneth’s voice turned slightly somber. “They taught me that stuff just to annoy me, but who could have known that it would turn out to be useful…”

“You’ll see your friends again and once we regain our strength we’ll save Sophie too,” Anna said in a comforting tone.

“Yeah… Thanks, Anna,” Gwyneth said before continuing to tap away at the keyboard.

Eva stared at the two in silence. She averted her gaze, guilt washing over her face.

“Okay, okay!” Gwyneth’s face lit up as she finished typing. “I think I can unlock the gate”.

“That’s amazing to hear,” Anna sighed in relief.

“Okay, if I run this…” Gwyneth tapped a few times.

The sound of screeching metal echoed through the room as the deadlocks creaked out of view. A guttural roar emitted out the last one as it suddenly stopped.

“One of them jammed,” Gwyneth frowned. “I can’t open the gate without all of them being unlocked.”

“It’s almost all the way in,” Eva grabbed the stock end of the shotgun. “A little elbow grease should do it. Come help, Goldilocks”.

“Sure,” Anna said as she followed Eva to the stuck deadbolt.

“Here, whack it,” Eva handed the shotgun half to Anna.

Anna grabbed it and focused. She smashed the stock against the bolt causing it to inch slightly. She took a deep breath and smashed it again. With every bash the bolt moved closer and closer to being unlocked.

“My turn,” Eva held out her hand once Anna had exhausted herself.

Anna handed her the shotgun and Eva smashed the deadbolt with a hearty thud. The deadbolt lurched forward, a mere inch from being unlocked. Eva grit her teeth and rammed it as hard as she could. The shotgun split into broken parts as the deadbolt fell into place.

“Doors unlocked, hurry up and open it!” Eva yelled towards Gwyneth and then turned around.

Gwyneth stood in front of them with a furious face. She clenched the barrel end of the shotgun tightly with one hand, on the other she held an ID.

“What’s wrong?” Anna asked as she noticed Gwyneth’s erratic breathing.

“What is this doing in your hoodie’s pocket, Eva?” Gwyneth held out an ID.

The image of Sophie’s lint covered ID barely peered through the darkness. Anna turned towards Eva in shock. Eva simply stood with her fists clenched.

“Why do you have this?! Did you do something to Sophie?” Gwyneth stomped closer towards the two of them.

Eva remained silent.

“Answer me!” Gwyneth yelled.

Eva clenched her fists until her knuckles went white.

“I knew your name sounded familiar, you’re that Eva. The Eva that blackmails and harasses students until their lives are ruined. The Eva that every freshman is told to stay far away from. The two faced, spineless, worthless piece of human filth, Eva Moore!” Gwyneth howled at the top of her lungs

“Shut the hell up you effing brat, you have no idea what you’re talking about,” Eva roared back.

“I know exactly what I’m talking about. You’re the reason why Sophie is always so depressed. You’re the reason that everyone avoids her. It's because of you that she’s in this place. It’s because of you that we’re in this mess in the first place. All because you’re a bully that can’t live without terrorizing others.” Gwyneth’s eyes began to water as her words quickened.

“It’s not my fault her dumbass got captured by that thing. Yet, here I am forced to crawl through this murder den and deal with you- a pathetic weak child- so that Sophie can go back to being pampered by her psychopath parents. Y’know what, I’m glad she’s in this mess. All I did was give her what she deserved,” Eva said coldly.

Anna looked at her with disbelief. Gwyneth’s mouth gaped open in shock. Her breaths quickened as she sprinted forward.

“You monster!” Gwyneth yelled at the top of her lungs while swinging the broken shotgun at her face.

Before Eva could react Anna stood in between the two and grabbed the shotgun.

“Anna?!” Gwyneth and Eva said in unison.

“Enough, both of you! Fighting now isn’t going to get us out of here, it isn’t going to save Sophie either,” Anna glanced between the two of them. “While we spend time arguing, that thing is catching up to us. We need to work together or else we will end up in cocoons like the others.”

“But-” Gwyneth started before stopping at the sight of Anna’s glare.

“Like hell I’m calming down, that brat called me an effing-” Eva stopped as Anna roared in a surprisingly loud voice.

“Eva you are smarter than this, stop wasting our time! What, are you trying to get yourself killed by that thing?!”

Eva and Gwyneth looked at her with anger and dejection respectively. After a few moments the two relaxed a little.

“Good, I’ll get the gate open and you too start making your way out,” Anna walked towards the computer. “We’ll talk about what you did to Sophie later, Eva.” Anna turned around and stared directly into Eva’s eyes.

“Whatever,” Eva spat as Anna walked away.

Anna looked at the computer screen.

“Press enter to continue”, a simple prompt read.

Anna pressed enter and the door began to churn to life. It slowly slid down into the floor, revealing stairs that led up to an exit. Anna’s head snapped towards the air duct as the sound of something shattering pierced through the concrete.

The Jester’s body poked halfway out of the air vent. Its neck split open and a tentacle shot out piercing the gate and stopping it from lowering further. Anna sprung out of the room and brandished the barrel of the shotgun. She smashed it against the tendril, causing it to unhook from the door and slightly bend the barrel. A massive crash roared out as the gate fell down. The Jester’s mouth gaped open and shot another tendril. Anna reacted in time and swung the barrel against it, causing the tendril to pierce into the ground behind her.

“Anna!” Gwyneth yelled as the gate finally lowered and allowed access to the stairs.

“Hurry up, Goldilocks!” Eva screamed.

Anna turned around and ran towards them. The sound of another part of the Jester’s body snapping open clicked behind her. Anna turned around to see two more tendrils shooting towards her. Anna narrowly stepped out of the way as they zoomed past her and towards Eva and Gwyneth. Eva managed to duck in time but Gwyneth yelped in pain as it grazed her side. The Jester began pulling itself out of the duct, its body contorting unnaturally to force its way through. Anna attacked the two tendrils, causing them to detach and erasing the progress that the Jester made.

“Just go, it’ll force its way out if I don't stop it!” Anna yelled at Eva and Gwyneth before turning back towards the Jester.

“No, we’re not leaving without you,” Gwyneth pleaded.

“Yeah, Anna. Hurry up, we can outrun that thing-” Eva said.

“JUST GO!” Anna hollered at them.

Eva stared at Anna as she held her bent, nearly broken, makeshift weapon in her hands ready to swing at any other tendrils that shot out. She noticed Anna’s firm stance, her calm and steady breaths. Anna glanced towards her with eyes filled with a furious determination.

“God dammit,” Eva muttered with a pained face before grabbing Gwyneth and dragging her up the stairs.

“What the hell are you doing?! We can’t leave her there on her own, we have to help her!” Gwyneth yelled in a panicky voice.

“We can’t help her if we’re dead, she said it herself we regain our strength and then we can save the day,” Eva grunted as she struggled to hold Gwyneth back.

“No, I’m not leaving her!” Gwyneth kicked and screamed as she tried to break free.

“We don’t have a choice!” Eva yelled into her ears.

The two slowly made their way up the stairs. Anna gave a relieved smile as she saw them approach the exit. She turned towards the Jester.

“I. Save. You.” It groaned as countless holes split out of its mouth.

“So you’ve said,” Anna braced herself. “Got anything new?”

Numerous tendrils shot out of its mangled body. Anna weaved in between them and deflected as many as she could. Pain surged through her body as the tendrils grazed her arms and legs. The shotgun’s barrel shattered to pieces as a tendril impaled through it. Anna fell onto the floor overwhelmed by the Jester's attacks. The wall crumbled into debris as the Jester yanked itself through. Its twisted and broken body stretched into a set of quadrupedal legs. More flesh burst out of its back and formed a makeshift torso. Flesh shifted into place as it carried the black orb to the center of its new chest. The tendrils retreated back to the main body, each carrying a chunk of concrete. They wrapped themselves into a set of arms. A massive cobbled together concrete lance reinforced with bone was wedged within the stringy flesh of one of them. A new head shaped itself at the top of the abomination of muscle and bone. The Jester turned grotesque Centaur howled with such ferocity that it shook the entire room.

“Save...” The Centaur stomped towards Anna as she tried to stand up and run, causing her to lose balance and fall back onto the ground.

“...you.” The Centaur cleaved the lance towards the gate and completely destroyed it.

Anna looked in fear as her only exit became nothing more than a pile of rubble. She turned to face the Centaur that towered above her.

“Take. You. Home.” It said slowly, its stomach opening up to an endless sea of tendrils.

Dread began to set into Anna. Her vision became slurred from the tears that began to well in her eyes as the tendrils inched towards her.

“I’m sorry, dad,” Anna whimpered as her hope vanished.

“Don’t be sorry yet...” Caroline’s voice rang from behind the rubble.

Two bright flashes of dark green light cut an X through the rubble, destroying it instantly. Caroline shot towards the Centaur brandishing two ethereal green sickles. She swung upwards at the Centaur. Its arms were cut clean off as the sickles effortlessly burned through its flesh. The lance shattered onto the floor as the Centaur tripped backwards in hollering pain. Pitch black smoke billowed out of its wounds.

Caroline stood in front of Anna. The green in her Warden’s uniform glowed the same shade as her sickles. Her coat fluttered in the air from how fast she moved. An emerald green crystal heart took the place of the sigil that was sat on her badge.

“...there’s still much more pain in store for you,” Caroline gave Anna a cold look before removing her coat and letting it fall to the floor.

The Centaur roared again as more tendrils shot out of its body and reformed its damaged arms. Bit of its chest became exposed, revealing the black orb.

“There you are,” Caroline rolled her shoulders before readying her sickles once more. “I hope you're a fighter.”

Caroline swung forward in an X pattern. The Centaur hopped backwards and avoided the attack. Chunks of concrete shot from the ground as it landed. It quickly grabbed them and threw them at Caroline with blinding speed. Caroline effortlessly avoided them and cut one chunk in half before it hit Anna. She pirouette forward and swung downwards with her right sickle. It hooked onto the Centaur's back causing it to yelp in pain. The Centaur swung its free arm towards her. Caroline cut through it, causing it to fall onto the floor as a lifeless stump. Before the Centaur could even scream in pain, she spun her free sickle and cleaved its chest wide open. The Centaur attempted to stomp on her legs in desperation. She hopped over its legs and pushed against its body. The sickle wedged in its back cut through its entire torso and hooked into the black orb as she did. She leaped off of its body, the black orb stuck to her sickle, and landed a few feet in front of the Centaur with her back towards it. The Centaur gave out a blood curdling battle cry as its body unraveled into a mess of coiled tendrils ready to spring towards Caroline.

“Hmm,” Caroline said as she hooked her other sickle into the orb. “Apparently not.”

Caroline turned around to see a wall of tendrils speeding towards her. She gave a sadistic grin as she pulled her two sickles apart cutting the orb in half. A ghastly wail echoed out of the Centaur as its tendrils fell limp. Its body began to dissolve into a dark violet smog.

“...save...me…” Anna heard faintly as the Centaur’s body dissipated into nothing.

Anna sat up as best as she could and looked at the remains of the orb. Its obsidian like form glistened with a faint light that rapidly snuffed into lifelessness. Anna looked up at Caroline through her pain and exhaustion.

"Sorrow neutralized," Caroline said into her radio. "Moving to extract the intruder."

“What are you?” Anna could barely manage to ask.

“The time for questions will come later. For now you and your friends have to go to pay for all the damage that you all have caused,” Caroline crouched low until she was face to face with Anna. “Welcome to a world of Sorrows, Miss Anna. I wonder if you’ll survive.”

A slight grin stretched across Caroline’s face as Anna’s vision faded to darkness.

…

Beatriz blew on her tea as she finished stirring it. She took a sip and stared peacefully at the sunny day that surrounded her. Her black hair had a few white strands and was tied into a braided bun. Her face was slightly wrinkled but her emerald green eyes burned with an eternal youth. She wore a uniform similar to Caroline's, but instead of having a gaudy coat she wore a simple scarf. A woman holding a folder approached Beatriz as she continued enjoying her tea.

"Lovely day is it not, dear," Beatriz smiled at the woman.

"Good morning, Mrs. Reine," The woman opened the folder and began reading from it. "An incident has occurred at Central Station, the chief is currently busy addressing issues in the D.E. Atham's academy and has requested your aid in alleviating the issue."

"Oh my, what could have occurred that would require my help?" Beatriz asked.

"Three intruders discovered the abandoned sections of the Central Station and unearthed a Sorrow nest. Two managed to escape to the surface before being captured by Caroline's team, the other was saved by Caroline herself."

"I see," Beatriz lowered her tea onto a small dish below her. "Why was the other saved by Caroline?"

"According to the mission report, it seems she stayed behind to stop the Sorrow from attacking her accomplices."

Beatriz looked up at the woman with a slight awe.

"What is her name?" Beatriz asked.

"Anna, Anna Hjarta," The woman replied.

"Anna…" Beatriz took one last sip from her tea. "What a pretty name".