#his voice is so sinister and calm and eerie i love it. | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

pin-k-ink · 4 months

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loving the unlovable // ryomen sukuna

tw ⇢ true form!sukuna, dub-con, huge age gap, sukuna being a tsundere, lots of fluff, violence and gore, descriptions of injuries, heavy angst, implied sexual content, pregnancy, pregnancy sex, character death, obsession/unhealthy relationship dynamic, voyeurism, power imbalance, verbal aggression, manhandling, heavy petting

wc ⇢ 14.6k

a/n: my favorite work yet. i will remember this one forever

The shadows of the ancient trees seemed to stretch endlessly as the pale moonlight filtered through the canopy. In the stillness of the forest, a presence stirred - a malevolent force that sent a chill through the very air. Sukuna emerged from the darkness, his footfalls silent yet carrying an unmistakable weight of dread.

As he prowled deeper into the woodland, something caught his attention - the faint sound of labored breathing. His sinister eyes narrowed, lips curling into a subtle sneer as he followed the sound to its source. There you lay, motionless among the fallen leaves, your small frame battered and wounded.

Sukuna regarded you with a dispassionate gaze, his head tilting slightly as he studied your fragile form. Without warning, one of his fearsome nails extended with a sickening screech of bone against bone, the razor-sharp point hovering over your exposed skin. A low rumble echoed from deep within his chest - not quite a laugh, but a sound that conveyed his dark amusement at finding such easy prey.

To his mild surprise, you stirred at the ominous sound, your eyes fluttering open to meet his piercing stare. There was no fear in your gaze, only a strange sense of calm as you regarded the monstrous figure towering over you.

"Not afraid to die, are you?" Sukuna's gravelly voice sliced through the silence, his words dripping with derision. The point of his nail traced along your arm with practiced precision, parting the skin just enough to draw a thin line of crimson.

Rather than recoiling, you watched with an eerie fascination, your small hand rising to grasp at the torn fabric of his cloak. There was no pleading in your voice, only a peculiar sense of certainty as you spoke. "You won't kill me...not yet."

An imperceptible flicker of intrigue danced across Sukuna's obsidian eyes at your peculiar confidence. His shoulders rose and fell with a low, rumbling chuckle that seemed to reverberate through the trees themselves. "Is that so? And what makes you so sure, little creature?"

Undeterred by his menacing presence, you met his gaze unflinchingly. "Because I intrigue you..."

Sukuna's lip curled in a disdainful sneer at your bold proclamation. With one fluid motion, he gripped your tiny frame, hoisting you into the air until your faces were mere inches apart. His fist easily encircled your midsection, your feet dangling helplessly above the forest floor.

"You dare presume to know my thoughts, insect?" he growled, his hot breath fanning across your face. "I could crush you without a second thought." To emphasize his point, his grasp tightened ever so slightly, the pressure becoming almost unbearable.

Yet, you did not flinch or cry out. You simply held his gaze, an enigmatic smile playing upon your lips. In that moment, Sukuna felt a flicker of something he could not place - a strange sense of being...challenged by this mere slip of a girl.

With a disdainful snort, he loosened his grip and turned, fully intending to leave you broken and forgotten on the forest floor. But as he took his first step away, tiny arms wrapped around his leg, your small body clinging to him with surprising tenacity.

"Wait!" Your voice rang out, thick with desperation. "Please...let me stay with you."

Sukuna paused, his towering form going rigid as he slowly turned his head to glare down at you with smoldering contempt. "And why..." he uttered in a dangerously low tone, "...would I indulge such an insolent request?"

Unbowed, you met his piercing stare, your fingers digging into the fabric of his tattered cloak. "Because I won't leave. I'll follow you...pester you...until you give in."

A tense silence stretched between you, the forest itself seeming to hold its breath. Then, Sukuna's shoulders began to shake with a low, rumbling chuckle that escalated into full-blown laughter - harsh and mocking, yet underpinned by a strange sort of dark amusement.

"You've got spirit, child...I'll give you that," he finally uttered, his lips twisting into a cruel smirk. With a dismissive flick of his wrist, he shrugged you off his leg, your small body tumbling unceremoniously to the ground.

As you looked up at him with a mixture of trepidation and hope, he let out an exaggerated sigh. "Very well...you may follow at my heels like the obedient little parasite you are. But make no mistake..." His obsidian eyes bored into you with an intensity that could pierce souls. "If you overstep your bounds even once...I'll make sure you beg for the mercy of death."

Sukuna's lair was a crumbling, ancient shrine hidden deep within the twisted roots of a towering mahogany tree. As he led you through the dimly lit corridors, the stale air carried the faint scent of decay that seemed to cling to every surface.

With a disdainful flick of his wrist, he motioned to a small alcove, little more than a glorified nook. "This will be your quarters for the night, leech. Try not to perish from discomfort," he sneered.

Too exhausted and overwhelmed to muster a retort, you simply nodded meekly and settled into the cramped space, curling up on the cold stone floor. Within moments, the weight of your ordeal took its toll, and you drifted into a fitful slumber.

When your eyes finally fluttered open hours later, Sukuna was seated cross-legged nearby, his penetrating gaze fixed upon you with an intensity that could have incinerated lesser beings where they lay.

"To sleep so soundly in the lair of a cursed spirit," he mused, his tone laced with mordant amusement. "Your manners are as lacking as your survival instincts, girl."

Groggily pushing yourself upright, you opened your mouth to respond, but he swiftly raised a hand to silence you.

"Save your excuses. I've no interest in listening to the pathetic whimpering of mortals." With that, he rose to his feet and stalked away, disappearing down the shadowy corridor without a backwards glance.

The first pale rays of dawn were just peeking through the crevices when Sukuna's imposing form materialized once more at the entrance to your tiny alcove. His eyes narrowed as he regarded your sleeping form with thinly veiled disdain.

"Up, leech," he commanded gruffly. "Our bargain has ended. I grow weary of tolerating your pestilent presence."

Your eyes fluttered open slowly, bleary from a night of restless slumber. As the weight of his words sank in, a small furrow creased your brow in defiance.

"No..." The single syllable slipped from your lips barely above a whisper, but carried within it an unmistakable rebellion.

Sukuna's eyes flashed with a volatile blend of dark amusement and burgeoning ire. "I beg your pardon?" His voice adopted a tone of perilous calm, like the ocean's stillness before a raging tempest. "You dare defy me, insect?"

Pushing yourself upright, you met his piercing stare with surprising boldness. "I won't leave. We never specified one night only."

A taut silence stretched between you, the air itself seeming to thicken with Sukuna's wrath. Then, his lip curled in a vicious snarl, and he moved with blurring speed -- one moment towering over you, the next slamming you back against the unforgiving stone with a hand like iron around your throat.

"You try my patience, child," he hissed through clenched teeth, his face mere inches from yours. "I should slice you into pieces and feast upon your insolent tongue."

Even faced with such terrifying malice, you held his gaze with eerie composure. "But...you won't..." you wheezed, struggling against his grip. "Not...yet..."

Another beat of deafening silence followed, the coiled tension between you crackling like lightning about to strike. Then, almost too fast to register, Sukuna released you, stepping back with a contemptuous sneer.

"Clearly, I overestimated your faculty for self-preservation," he growled, dragging a hand down his face in exaggerated exasperation. "Very well, you may remain...for one more night. But heed my words carefully, girl..." His piercing glare bored into you like twin daggers. "Tread lightly, lest I reconsider granting you the mercy of a swift demise."

a few years later

The gentle burbling of the nearby river provided a soothing melody amid the stillness of the forest. From the shadows of his shrine, Sukuna's piercing gaze remained fixated on the riverbank, where you had settled to bathe.

It had been years since that fateful night when the obstinate girl-child had wheedled her way into his domain under the guise of a single night's stay. Yet here you remained, a persistent thorn in his side that had, against all reason, taken root and refused to be dislodged.

As the warm waters lapped at your lithe form, tendrils of steam dancing along the gentle curves that had blossomed over time, Sukuna found his obsidian eyes tracing the contours of your body with undisguised interest. A low rumble reverberated in his chest - not one of menace, but an unmistakable purr of dark appreciation.

"The leech has sprouted into something of a noxious bloom," he mused aloud, his deep timbre reverberating through the shadows. A cruel smirk played upon his lips as he drank in the sight before him, shameless in his voyeurism.

You remained blissfully unaware of your shadowed observer, carelessly exposing the full radiance of your budding feminine form to his hungered gaze. Wet hair cascaded over your shoulders, beads of water tracing tantalizing paths along the swell of your bosom before disappearing beneath the river's mirror-like surface.

An imperceptible shift in the air was the only warning before Sukuna materialized at the riverbank in a swirl of ethereal mist, his towering height casting an imposing shadow over you. "Enjoying yourself, leech?" His voice sliced through the stillness like a blade through silk.

You started violently at the sound, instinctively shying deeper into the water's embrance in a futile attempt at modesty. Yet even as a furious blush stained your cheeks, your eyes met his without faltering - the same strange mixture of defiance and fascination that had so captivated him all those years ago.

"S-Sukuna..." you stammered, your breath catching in your throat as he descended into a predatory crouch at the very edge of the riverbank. "I didn't realize you were watching."

"Evidently," he purred, his rumbling baritone caressing every syllable as he drank in every flustered reaction. Reaching out with one long, sinuous finger, he traced the outline of a droplet that trembled precariously on the hardened peak of your nipple. "Tell me, leech...do you still fear me?"

A tremor that had nothing to do with the water's chill racked your body at his touch. Yet you leaned ever so slightly into his touch, drawn like a moth to a flame. "No..." you breathed, holding his smoldering gaze. "I've never feared you, Sukuna."

The dark spirit's lips twisted into a cruel facsimile of a smile, one that sent thrills of equal parts dread and exhilaration down your spine. "Then you are a fool, dear girl." With that, he withdrew his hand, rising fluidly to his feet and turning away in one seamless movement.

"Return before nightfall," he tossed over his shoulder as he strode off, his imposing figure swallowed once more by the shadows. "Our...discussions...are in need of resumption."

As the sound of his footfalls faded away, you remained rooted in the shallows, heart pounding as a heady mix of trepidation and undeniable longing swirled within you.

As the shadows lengthened, you made your way back to Sukuna's lair, your stomach rumbling with hunger. You found the cursed spirit seated cross-legged in the central chamber, his piercing gaze fixed on some indiscernible point in the distance.

"You've returned," he stated flatly as you entered. "I trust you're prepared to satisfy my curiosity regarding the mundane human ritual of...dinner?" He uttered the last word like it left a bad taste in his mouth.

Stifling a sigh, you began gathering ingredients and utensils from the makeshift kitchen area Sukuna had grudgingly allowed you to establish years ago. As you cooked, you fielded Sukuna's barrage of disdainful questions about the peculiarities of mortal sustenance with a weary patience born of long practice.

Finally, you set a modest meal before him, watching in bemusement as he inspected it with a sneer of revulsion. "I will never understand why you subject yourself to such banalities, leech."

Rolling your eyes, you settled down to eat, politely ignoring his disparaging mutterings about the frailties of human existence. Same song and dance as every night.

Much later, you tiptoed down the corridor leading to Sukuna's private chambers, a mischievous grin playing across your lips. Spying the cursed spirit's recumbent form in the gloom, you stealthily slipped under the arm he had carelessly draped over the edge of his stone bed...

Only for said arm to clamp around you like a vise, hauling you up so abruptly that your feet cleared the ground entirely. You found yourself suspended face-to-face with Sukuna, his obsidian eyes blazing with unrestrained fury.

"You dare intrude upon my personal domain, worm?!" he bellowed, his free hand contorting into a series of wicked talons that hovered mere inches from your exposed throat.

Reflexively you threw up your hands in a placating gesture. "It's just me! It's just me!"

Sukuna's murderous expression flickered momentarily with recognition before resolving into one of contemptuous disgust. "Idiot girl," he growled, bodily hoisting you out of the chamber and depositing you in an unceremonious heap in the corridor. "How many times must I reiterate that my quarters are strictly forbidden?!"

As he slammed the door in your face, you couldn't quite stifle the giggle that bubbled up from your chest. "Same time tomorrow night?" you called out impishly, not bothering to pick yourself up from the floor.

The resounding bellow of outrage was enough to set your soul vibrating. Just another typical evening in the lair of Ryomen Sukuna.

The morning sun bathed the meadow in a warm golden glow, wildflowers swaying gently in the breeze. You sat among them, idly weaving together a crown of daisies and baby's breath, a serene smile playing across your lips.

Unbeknownst to you, Sukuna observed from the tree line, his penetrating gaze scrutinizing your every move. There was an unfamiliar tightness in his chest as he watched you laugh and dance amidst the blooms, so carefree and vibrant. An ache he couldn't identify.

He had seen countless mortals come and go over the eons - frail, fleeting creatures snuffed out like candle flames in the blink of an eye. Yet you persisted, your persistence grating on him at first until it gradually transitioned into...something else. Something he refused to name.

You were just bending down to pluck another blossom when Sukuna materialized at your side, his towering frame casting you in shadow. With a startled cry, you turned wide eyes up at him, the carefree smile slipping from your face.

But before you could react further, he reached down and scooped you up with ease, his massive hand encircling your slender waist. You automatically clutched at his arm for balance, lower lip jutting out in a tiny pout of protest.

"Wh-what are you doing?" you stammered, staring up at Sukuna with bewildered indignation. For once, he did not meet your questioning gaze, instead turning on his heel and striding back towards his lair without a word.

As the last rays of dusk faded, bathing the ancient shrine in deep shadows, Sukuna deposited you unceremoniously just inside the entrance. You gazed up at him with a petulant frown, momentarily frozen by the foreign gleam in his eyes - something wild and unrestrained flickering behind their obsidian depths.

Then, recovering some of your usual defiant spirit, you straightened and fixed him with a pointed look. "Since you're being so hospitable tonight, I don't suppose you'd allow me to bunk with you in your quarters?"

The request seemed to break whatever spell had momentarily fallen over the cursed spirit. He blinked, then his face contorted in a sneer of disdain as he reached out and shoved you back, not gently.

"Don't be foolish, girl," he growled, his voice laced with gravel. "You know my rules well. Now remove yourself from my presence before I remove you more...permanently."

Shooting him one last mulish glare, you turned and flounced off down the corridor, grumbling under your breath. Yet Sukuna remained rooted in place long after you departed, an inexplicable ache blossoming in his cursed chest.

The routine persisted for days and nights on end - you would saunter up to Sukuna's quarters once darkness fell, bat your eyelashes innocently, and inquire if perhaps this could be the blessed evening when he'd grant you permission to sleep beside him.

His response never wavered. A withering glare, a derisive snort, and then his large hand would clamp around your arm, yanking you off-balance before bodily depositing you outside his chamber door with an unceremonious shove.

"You're an insufferable pest," he'd growl, lips curled in contempt. "Quit deluding yourself into thinking I'll ever indulge such impertinence."

On one such night, you trudged away grumbling rebellious obscenities under your breath, lower lip jutting out in a full-on pout. Sukuna had been particularly rough, nearly sweeping your feet out from under you with the force of his push.

Fuming, you stalked outside into the night air, hoping the cool caress of the forest breeze would soothe your ruffled feathers. But you'd barely made it past the tree line when a sinister presence caused the hairs on the back of your neck to prickle.

A malevolent curse spirit oozed from the shadows, its grotesque form an amalgamation of oozing sludge and razor-sharp appendages. You froze, breath catching in your throat as its voracious eyes fixed on you, dark ichor dripping from its gaping maw.

Just as it reared back, prepared to strike, a thunderous bellow reverberated through the trees. "GIRL!"

Sukuna materialized between you and the curse like an avenging wraith, one clawed hand batting the foul creature aside with contemptuous ease. It hit a nearby tree trunk with bone-crunching force before dissolving into noxious sludge.

You stared up at Sukuna with wide, stunned eyes, his heaving shoulders the only indication of any exertion. Slowly, he turned to face you, mouth contorting into a vicious snarl.

"You foolish, foolish girl!" he raged, grabbing your shoulders and giving you a bruising shake. "Have I not warned you time and again about wandering from my domain unattended?! Do you have a death wish?!"

Trembling, you could only shake your head mutely, cowed by the sheer fury blazing in his eyes. With a disgusted growl, Sukuna released you, though his grip on your arm remained bruisingly tight as he hauled you back towards the shrine.

To your surprise, rather than depositing you at the entrance as usual, he dragged you straight to his private quarters and shoved you inside before him, slamming the door with a decisive thud.

"Sukuna, what-?" You turned to face him, brows knit in bewilderment, only to be silenced by the sheer intensity of his scathing look.

"Silence, idiot," he spat, raking you with his piercing glare. "For once, I'll indulge your persistent wheedling...if only to ensure you don't stumble into anymore folly this night."

He snorted derisively as realization bloomed across your face, lips curving into a delighted smile. Shaking his head, he jerked his thumb towards the pallet against the far wall. "Well? You have what you wanted. Now cease your incessant nattering and let me have some blessed quiet."

Biting your lip in a futile effort to contain your grin, you scurried over to the bedroll, trying and failing to ignore the thunderous pounding of your heart. As you settled in, Sukuna's rumbling bass filled the chamber once more.

"Just for tonight, leech. Don't delude yourself into thinking this..." He waved a dismissive hand, "...situation will become permanent."

Even as you nodded, the secret smile tugging at your lips suggested you had absolutely no intention of dropping your persistent campaign. As the night deepened, the sound of Sukuna's steady breathing rose and fell in a reassuring cadence - the soothing rhythm of the most terrifying lullaby to which you'd ever drifted off.

The following morning, you emerged from Sukuna's chamber squinting against the brilliant rays of dawn filtering through the trees. Stifling a yawn, you wandered towards the small spring that provided the lair's water source, blissfully unaware of the dark eyes watching your every move.

Sukuna observed in tense silence from the shadows as you knelt beside the glittering pool, idly trailing your fingers through the cool waters. That strange ache blossomed in his chest once more - a longing he could neither name nor comprehend.

With a irritable huff, he pivoted and stalked deeper into the gloom of the forest, forcing your bemusing form from his mind's eye. Yet the phantom sensation persisted, an ember of something warm and unfamiliar smoldering in his cursed soul.

Night had long since fallen by the time Sukuna re-entered his lair, shadows clinging to him like a shroud. He paused at the entrance to his private chambers, piercing gaze sweeping the dimly lit space with scrutinizing intensity.

"Tolerable for one night," he grumbled to himself, fingers tightening briefly on the doorframe. "But no more. That wretched girl has overstepped enough boundaries to last an eternity."

Before the words had fully left his lips, a slight shift of movement in his peripheral vision caused his entire body to go rigid, cursed power rippling through him like a shockwave. Whirling with blinding speed, he contorted one hand into a wicked scythe of talons, dark energy gathering in a volatile maelstrom.

"You dare--?!" The words morphed into a guttural snarl as his gaze landed on the slight figure now perched impudently on the very edge of his bed. "Leech!"

You grinned back at him, infuriatingly unperturbed by the malevolent force roiling off him in waves. "Well hello there, cranky pants. Sleep well?"

"I warned you about encroaching upon my personal domain," Sukuna raged, his free hand whipping out to seize you by the waist and bodily hoist you into the air. "Do you never learn?!"

Rather than cower, you merely gazed back at him with guileless defiance, small hands clutching at the iron bands of his fingers. "Don't be like that, Sukuna. We both know you won't hurt me."

The cursed spirit's towering frame seemed to swell with unholy wrath, muscles rippling beneath his ashen skin. Yet as his obsidian gaze bored into yours, that damnable heat flickered in his chest once more - an unwelcome tendril of yearning that slithered through the cracks in his cursed, callous shell.

With a noise of disgust, he released his grip, allowing you to tumble gracelessly back onto the pallet. Yet before you could so much as stir, he whirled and made for the door, fully intent on ejecting you from his quarters with extreme prejudice.

Only to find himself arrested by your slight form clinging tenaciously to his leg, arms and legs wrapped around the limb like a limpet. "No wait, Sukuna please! I'll be good, I swear!"

The cursed spirit stilled, piercing eyes slitting dangerously as he glared down at your pleading face. For a long, tense moment, the air itself seemed to thicken with the weight of his inhuman ire.

Then, it dissipated in a rush, his shoulders slumping ever so slightly as a weary exhale gusted past his lips. Wordlessly, he reached down and detached your grip with ease, ignoring your mewl of dismay. Instead of throwing you out, however, he simply turned and resumed his seat on the edge of the pallet, pinning you with a glower of stern resignation.

"One more night, leech," he growled, the capitulation sounding physically pained. "But no more of these insipid antics. Am I making myself absolutely clear?"

Your face split in a beaming grin that caused that damnable warmth to bloom in Sukuna's chest anew. Nodding fervently, you scooted up to join him on the narrow bed roll, relishing the simple intimacy of your shoulders brushing against his granite frame.

As the night wore on, and your breathing evened out in slumber, the cursed spirit remained awake and pensive, his piercing gaze roving repeatedly to the slender form curled up beside him. Something was shifting deep within him, an inexorable drift that filled him with equal parts longing and foreboding.

He could sense the tenuous grasp on his power beginning to waver - a dangerous riptide of emotion churning beneath the hardened surface of his being. And at its dark, irresistible center...that wretched girl remained, an infuriating yet inextricable piece of his cursed existence.

The first pale rays of dawn filtered through the crevices, bathing Sukuna's chamber in a soft, dusty glow. The cursed spirit's eyes drifted open slowly, his penetrating gaze instantly falling upon the slight form curled up beside him.

Your chest rose and fell with the deep, even breaths of untroubled slumber, a thin trail of drool trickling from the corner of your parted lips. Hair mussed and splayed across the pallet in a bird's nest of tangles, you looked every bit the image of innocence lost to dreams.

Yet Sukuna found his obsidian eyes tracing the delicate contours of your face with undisguised fascination, drinking in each and every detail as if truly seeing you for the first time. From the dusting of freckles across your upturned nose to the flutter of your lashes against flushed cheeks, he catalogued it all with rapt attentiveness.

Without realizing what he was doing, one long-fingered hand drifted up to gently brush an errant lock of hair from your forehead, his rough calloused fingertips a harsh juxtaposition against your petal-soft skin. You didn't so much as stir, too deeply ensconced in slumber to register his uncharacteristically tender ministrations.

Sukuna felt himself leaning in closer, an unfamiliar pull tugging at the very fabric of his being. Your warm, honeysuckle breath fanned across his face as his own drifted nearer and nearer still, until the delicate curve of your cupid's bow brushed whisper-light against the austere line of his lips.

In that crystalline moment, something seemed to shatter within the cursed spirit. His entire frame went rigid, the muscles coiled taut as an over-plucked bowstring beneath his ashen skin. Just as swiftly as the hypnotic compulsion had fallen over him, it dissipated in an icy rush of clarity.

With a strangled snarl of disgust, Sukuna violently recoiled, his sudden movement jostling the pallet hard enough to rouse you from slumber. Bleary eyes blinked up at him in groggy confusion as he loomed over you, his expression contorted into one of blatant abhorrence.

"Out," he ground out through gritted teeth, visibly struggling to regain control over the tempestuous storm of emotion roiling through him. "Get out, leech!"

Your brow furrowed in hurt bewilderment, mouth opening to protest or question his irate outburst. But Sukuna was having none of it. Reaching down, he seized you by the arm and bodily hauled you upright, marching you towards the door with such force that your feet barely skimmed the ground.

With one final shove, he deposited you in an unceremonious heap in the corridor, slamming the chamber door behind you with a thunderous bang. Left alone in the dim passageway, you could only stare at the unyielding slab of wood with a forlorn mixture of confusion and heartache welling in your eyes.

Inside his sanctum, Sukuna paced like a caged predator, every muscle taut and thrumming with pent up violence. His clawed hands alternately clenched and flexed, dark energy crackling through him in volatile surges.

"Damnable, pestilent girl!" He punctuated the snarled words with a strike that reduced a nearby pillar to rubble. "What depraved curse has she inflicted upon me?!"

Yet even as he raged and seethed against the irresistible tide of unfamiliar emotion, a small, insidious ember smoldered in the inky depths of his cursed heart. An ember that, unbeknownst to him, had been steadily burning brighter and hotter with each passing night...fanned into radiant existence by your infuriatingly persistent presence at his side.

You knelt in the small vegetable patch you had painstakingly cultivated, idly plucking weeds and tossing them aside with more force than strictly necessary. A sullen pout tugged at your lips as you mentally replayed the events of that morning on an endless, mortified loop.

The feeling of Sukuna violently recoiling from you, the look of unadulterated disgust contorting his features - it was all seared into your mind's eye with agonizing clarity. You hadn't even done anything, just woken up as per usual! Yet he'd practically torn you from his quarters, flinging you out like some repulsive insect he couldn't be rid of fast enough.

You were so absorbed in your simmering indignation that you failed to notice the imposing figure materializing at the edge of the garden until his rumbling baritone sliced through the weighted silence.

"Stop wallowing in the dirt like a pathetic grub, leech. It's unbecoming."

Stiffening, you steadfastly avoided meeting Sukuna's piercing gaze, mouth pressed into a mulish line. The cursed spirit regarded you with obvious disdain for a beat before snorting derisively.

"What, no clever rejoinder? No insolent prattle to assault my ears with?" His tone dripped with disdainful sarcasm. "How unlike you."

You remained stubbornly mute, turning your body slightly so your back was angled towards him in a blatant gesture of defiance. An imperceptible muscle ticked in Sukuna's taut jaw, his obsidian eyes glinting with fleeting irritation before smoothing out into cool disinterest.

"I see. The child chooses to have a tantrum then," he drawled, folding his arms across his massively muscled chest. "How terribly vexing for me."

Despite your best efforts to tune him out, his rich, resonant timbre seemed to effortlessly penetrate the walls you tried to erect. You couldn't quite stifle the small pout that crept across your lips, shoulders hunched defensively.

A humorless chuckle gusted from Sukuna at your petulant display. Then, his voice dropped a shade lower, taking on the ominous timber of flint striking steel.

"Perhaps a compromise is in order..." You froze, ears straining in spite of your resolve to ignore him. "...so that you might cease this insufferable tantrum."

Unable to resist, you turned your head slightly, peeking up at him through your lashes with naked trepidation. Sukuna held your gaze for a beat, then seemed to reach some internal resolution. When he spoke again, his tone was laced with the sort of weary resignation one might reserve for a rabid dog they've decided to humor rather than put down.

"You may..." He audibly ground out the words through gritted teeth, as if they physically pained him. "...take up residence in my quarters on a more...permanent basis. If that will satisfy your obstinate need to perpetually vex me."

The effect was instantaneous and profound. Your sullen pout blossomed into a radiant smile that bathed your entire being in a sort of incandescent light. Before Sukuna could so much as blink, you had launched yourself at him, throwing your arms around his granite-hewn waist and hugging him with every ounce of jubilant force in your slight frame.

The cursed spirit went rigid as a statue, his towering figure locking up in abject bewilderment at the unanticipated onslaught of unchecked affection. For several agonizing beats, he seemed torn between violence and simply phasing through the earth to escape the uncomfortable intimacy.

Then, as quickly as you had barreled into him, he pried you off with deliberate force, holding you at arm's length with a look of profound consternation. Clearing his throat gruffly, he averted those piercing obsidian depths, struggling to regain his customary icy aloofness.

"Yes, well..." He cleared his throat again redundantly. "Don't make me regret this indulgence, girl. Now release me and tend to whatever menial chores suit your industrious nature. I've had quite enough emotional upheaval for one morning."

Giggling at his obvious discomfort, you nodded enthusiastically and scampered off, every line of your body seeming to fairly sing with unrestrained jubilance. Sukuna watched you depart with a mixture of stark confusion and something frighteningly akin to fondness flickering behind his stony facade, the beginning embers of a connection that would irrevocably alter both your fates.

The shadows had long since descended over Sukuna's lair by the time you made your way to his private chambers that night, a contented smile playing across your lips. You found the cursed spirit seated on the edge of the modest pallet, his piercing gaze fixed on some indiscernible point in the distance.

Wasting no time on propriety, you bounded over and flopped onto the bed with unrestrained glee, reveling in the simple luxury of the soft furs and downy fabrics. Sukuna's obsidian eyes slid towards you, one pointed brow arching ever so slightly in a look of profound disbelief.

"Must you behave like an overexcited pup, leech?" he rumbled, mouth curved in a moue of distaste even as his gaze danced with fleeting amusement. "One would think you've never experienced the comforts of a proper resting place."

Rolling onto your back, you grinned up at him impishly, hair splaying across the pelts in a makeshift halo. "Maybe I'm just savoring the novel experience of sharing a bed with a ruggedly handsome cursed spirit."

Sukuna's eyes narrowed to slits of warning at your brazen flirtation, lips pulling back to expose a hint of fang. "Don't get ahead of yourself, girl. I allowed this arrangement to cease your childish carrying on...not to indulge any misguided fancies you might be entertaining."

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you fixed him with an appraising look through your lashes, openly drinking in the sharp lines of his chiseled features and muscular frame.

"Is that so?" you murmured, tone taking on a lilt of exaggerated innocence. "So you're saying there's no chance whatsoever of...extracurricular activities?"

The cursed spirit visibly bristled at your suggestive implication, fingers flexing as his obsidian gaze bored into you with smoldering intensity. Just as his lips parted to deliver what was sure to be a scathing rejoinder, the impish glint in your eyes seemed to catch him off guard.

Instead, you flashed him a brilliant smile, one that held no guile or insinuation - only a pure, radiant warmth that temporarily stole the breath from Sukuna's lungs. "I'm only teasing. Just being near you like this...it's enough for me."

Those simple words appeared to utterly disarm the formidable spirit. His mouth worked soundlessly as his angular features slackened slightly, temporarily unguarded and almost...vulnerable. An unfamiliar heat bloomed in his crimson gaze, softening it in a way you had never witnessed before.

Without consciously realizing what you were doing, you pushed up from the bed and scooted around behind Sukuna's seated form. He tensed fractionally as you molded yourself against the unyielding plane of his back, arms winding around the solid column of his neck in a tender embrace.

Yet unlike all the times before when he would have recoiled or shoved you away, the cursed spirit remained utterly motionless. His head bowed fractionally, harsh lines of his profile inscrutable in the dimness as he permitted your affectionate display to linger unchallenged.

In that weighted moment, it was almost as if some imperceptible barrier between you had begun to crumble - allowing a tiny flicker of connection to take root and smolder. Sukuna's next indrawn breath seemed to carry the weight of eons.

As the night stretched on in pensive quiet, your eyelids grew gradually heavier, lulled into a sense of peace and security by the steady cadence of Sukuna's breathing and the solidity of his form against yours. Safe in the knowledge that for now, in this stillness...he wouldn't push you away.

The balmy summer night was alive with the chirruping songs of crickets and the gentle whisper of the breeze. You knelt among the lush vegetation of your beloved garden, hands buried in the loamy soil as you carefully tended to the vibrant array of herbs and vegetables flourishing under your care.

So absorbed were you in your peaceful labors that you failed to register the first ominous shadows flitting through the tree line -- dark, malevolent presences that slithered forth with ill intent sparking in their depthless eyes.

It wasn't until a strangled cry rent the air that your head whipped up, eyes widening in stunned trepidation as grotesque, humanoid figures emerged from the gloom in a loose semi-circle around the garden's perimeter. Their twisted forms seemed an affront to nature itself, corrupt energies roiling just beneath the surface in profane defiance of the sanctity surrounding them.

"Sorcerers..." you breathed, instinctively shrinking back as your heart thundered in your chest. "But...how...?"

"The girl that soils Sukuna's domain," one of the gaunt figures rasped, its sibilant voice grating like rusted metal. "She will lure him out."

Another of the wicked men threw back its head in a horrifying parody of laughter. "Then we shall extinguish both blights upon this world in one fateful stroke!"

Before you could so much as blink, a crackling vortex of malign power burst forth, searing towards you in a blinding eruption of crimson light. You managed a single terrified scream before the onslaught slammed into you, sending shockwaves of unimaginable agony ricocheting through every fiber of your being.

The world tilted violently, the idyllic garden backdrop washing in and out of focus as you scrambled feebly against the onslaught. But the dark sorcerers were utterly relentless, pressing their brutal assault until your struggles grew feeble, your piercing cries reduced to gurgling whimpers of anguish.

Just as the encroaching blackness threatened to swallow you whole, a deafening roar of purest wrath split the night -- a vengeful bellow so seismic that it caused the very trees to shake in its wake. Through a rapidly dimming haze, you glimpsed the ashen silhouette of Sukuna materializing amidst the fray, his eyes blazing like twin supernovas.

The ensuing onslaught was apocalyptic. With an earthshaking crash, the cursed spirit unleashed the full brunt of his unholy capabilities in an explosive torrent of unearthly energies. The ground itself seemed to fracture and buckle under the sheer concussive force, whipping up a maelstrom of debris that swallowed the shrieking sorcerers whole.

In the span of mere heartbeats, the fiendish entities had been utterly decimated -- rent asunder by the full fury of Sukuna's unrestrained might. As the maelstrom receded, an unnatural silence fell, shattered only by the cursed spirit's harsh, heaving breaths.

Then, his piercing gaze fell upon your fragile form, crumpled and broken amidst the ravaged remains of your once-vibrant garden. Sukuna seemed to freeze for the span of an eternal second, features slackening incrementally as utter stillness cloaked his towering silhouette.

The next instant, he was at your side, sinking to one knee and gathering your battered body into the protective cradle of his arms with a tenderness that belied the violence still thrumming through him like livewire.

"Leech..." The nickname slipped raggedly past his lips, stripped of its customary inflection of derision or disdain. "Girl..."

Your eyelashes fluttered feebly as his gruff rumble penetrated the fog of anguish shrouding you. Somehow, you managed to croak a feeble murmur, the words scarcely more than a piteous whisper despite the gravity with which you uttered them.

"They...destroyed my garden..."

A tremor seemed to race through Sukuna's towering frame at the simple lament, his hold instinctively tightening as if to shield you not only from further harm, but the very notion of such trivial worries. When he spoke again, his voice carried a brusque gentleness that resonated through your very bones.

"Stubborn girl...there will be time to restore your foolish plants once you've recovered." His massive palm cradled the back of your head, fingers lightly sifting through the tangled tresses. "Rest now. I shall rebuild it all...with my own hands if need be."

As the realm of consciousness began to slip away from you once more, you managed the faintest murmur in acknowledgment before allowing yourself to drift into oblivion's soothing embrace. Your final cognizant thought was one of wonder...at how, even on the precipice of certain demise, Sukuna's mere presence remained an inextricable tether to hope and safekeeping.

The first tendrils of awareness seeped in gradually, a soft cocoon of warmth and security enveloping your battered form. You stirred with the barest of movements, eyelids fluttering open to find yourself swaddled in the plush furs of Sukuna's sleeping pallet.

A low rumble instantly drew your bleary gaze, finding the cursed spirit himself seated cross-legged at your side, his penetrating obsidian stare fixed unwaveringly on your face. There was an uncharacteristic intensity burning in those fathomless depths, something wild and unrestrained simmering just beneath the surface.

"You're awake," he stated simply, making no move to disguise the open appraisal raking over your form as if reassuring himself of your continued corporeal existence. "How do you feel, girl?"

You opened your mouth to respond, but he swiftly raised one clawed hand in a hushing gesture, silencing you before the words could form.

"No matter," he rumbled, raking his other hand through his disheveled mane in an uncharacteristically agitated gesture. "Clearly you require more rest to regain your strength after that debacle."

Confusion furrowed your brow as flashes of the dark sorcerers' ambush began to trickle back into your consciousness. But before you could so much as part your lips again, Sukuna leaned forward, the intensity in his eyes nearly scorching you with its heated focus.

"Attempt to rise or exert yourself in any fashion, and I will not be responsible for my actions," he growled, brooking no argument. "You will remain in bed and allow yourself to recuperate fully. Is that clear enough for your stubborn mind to comprehend?"

You could only nod mutely, instinctively sinking back into the sumptuous bedding as the weight of his stern edict settled over you. Sukuna held your gaze for a beat longer, then snorted and shifted his hulking frame, never fully removing himself from your bedside as if standing sentry.

Over the next few days, you quickly learned that the cursed spirit was fiercely serious regarding his mandate for your recovery. He scarcely left your side for more than a few minutes at a time, his formidable presence both reassuring and faintly discomfiting as you steadily regained your strength.

What's more, on the rare occasions you did rouse to find him absent, a brief glance out the chamber's lone window revealed he had already seen to restoring your beloved garden to its former verdant glory. Somehow, through some arcane effort, he had coaxed forth a miniature oasis from the ravaged soil and ash - a riot of fresh blooms and burgeoning greenery that made your heart swell with profound reverence.

Yet for all his apparent efforts to put you at ease and provide comfort, Sukuna adamantly avoided any heart-to-heart discussions or sentimental heart-renderings about the motivation behind his doting behavior. His demeanor was brusque as ever, a perpetual furrow pinching his brow whenever he happened to catch you studying him with wondering eyes.

"Cease gawking at me like a bedridden simpleton, girl," he'd grouse, deliberately turning his striking visage away to discourage further scrutiny. "If you insist on testing my patience, I'll keep you bedbound for another fortnight."

But his bluster and growling threats were belied by his actions come nightfall, when he would slide beneath the downy layers beside you with deliberate care. Unlike the prior fleeting times you'd been granted the intimate privilege of sharing his sleeping space, he no longer exerted any effort to maintain a respectful distance between your forms.

You would awake in those twilight hours to find his hulking frame spooning yours with almost protective insistence, one corded arm slung possessively over your waist while his pointed features remained a tense, watchful mask. Any attempts to disengage and afford him space were met with a low, rumbling murmur of displeasure and a reflexive tightening of his restraining hold, as if he feared your withdrawal on some subconscious level.

So you simply allowed yourself to sink back against his solid warmth with a resigned sigh, letting the sound of his even breathing lull you into a sense of strange security. Whatever internal warlord was raging inside the cursed spirit was not your battle to fight...at least not yet. For tonight, you would permit yourself to shelter inside the uncharacteristic tenderness he seemed determined to blanket you in, however briefly.

For deep within his volcanic stare, you could discern the telltale flickers of an emotion he refused to name - burning embers that glowed more fervently with each passing night spent entwined in silent communion.

Two sunsets had come and gone without any trace of Sukuna's imposing presence darkening the entrance to his lair. An uneasy sense of trepidation had settled over you like a shroud, each passing hour compounding the knot of dread coiling tighter and tighter in the pit of your stomach.

Where was he? The cursed spirit was no stranger to extended disappearances on his own inscrutable whims. But never before had he ventured off without so much as a gruff word of departure, leaving you to fret and wonder in his consuming absence.

You paced the confines of his inner sanctum in restless arcs, shooting furtive glances towards the unmoving slab of wood that served as the entrance. Surely if he intended his leave to be permanent, he would have...what? Sneered some parting barb about ridding himself of your pestilent presence?

No, the utter silence - the yawning void of his absence - chilled you more deeply than any of his harshest rebukes ever could. It simply wasn't like him.

You had just completed another fruitless circuit around the cramped chamber when a resounding boom shook the very foundations, instinctively dropping you into a defensive crouch. Heavy, thunderous footfalls reverberated through the passages beyond as something - no, someone- barreled towards the inner sanctum with reckless momentum.

The entrance burst open with a splintering crash, and there he was - Sukuna's towering, unmistakable silhouette haloed in the flickering torchlight beyond. Yet as the dust settled and your incredulous gaze drank in his form, utter dismay clenched like a vice around your heart.

The cursed spirit appeared utterly savaged, his ashen skin hanging in ribbons from countless deep lacerations that wept a steady stream of ebon ichor. One arm hung in an unnatural angle, the other clutching a gaping wound just below his ribcage as if trying to keep his very entrails from spilling forth. Dark power seethed and crackled around him in a volatile miasma, casting his features in a perpetual state of wrath-contorted ferocity.

An unintelligible bellow ripped from Sukuna's bloodied lips, causing you to flinch instinctively. Then another form materialized beside him, resolving into the lithe frame of Uraume - one of the only entities who could be considered an ally to the volatile curse.

"Listen close, girl!" he barked in his customary sandpaper growl. "You must approach Sukuna. He's been driven to the very brink, and right now you're the only one he might-"

"SILENCE!" The roar that erupted from Sukuna's chest could have parted oceans. "Don't presume to make decisions for me, dog!"

In the blink of an eye, his remaining hand had snapped up in a vicious swipe that sent Uraume hurtling back down the passage in an explosion of masonry and dirt. Turning that blazing stare on you, the cursed spirit's teeth gnashed in a bestial snarl.

"Well, leech?" he growled, a spatter of ebon blood splattering across his chin. "Coming to bask in the sight of your precious Sukuna laid low, are you? Have you a taste for more violence?!"

He took a menacing step forward, every motion broadcasting his intent to rend and subjugate to the most primal part of your hindbrain. Yet you held your ground, swallowing hard but refusing to be cowed by the maelstrom of dark malice radiating off him in waves.

"Just...let me help you," you managed, struggling to keep your voice steady and implacable. "You're in no condition to-"

"YOUR HELP?!" he thundered, unleashing a torrent of power that slammed into you with bruising force, driving you back several paces. "I don't require a weakling mortal's pathetic overtures!"

A massive clawed hand whipped out, gnarled fingers encircling your slender neck with crushing intensity that immediately stole your breath. Eyes bulging, you scrabbled helplessly at the iron vise of his grip, succeeding only in drawing parallel lines across his sweat-slicked flesh from the ragged ends of your nails.

His mouth twisted into a vicious sneer, eyes glittering with soulless, obsidian fathoms that intimated he would crush the spark of life from your fragile husk without hesitation. "You dare come before me in my domain and lecture me about conditions, girl?"

But you refused to relent, spearing him with a defiant glower even as black spots began dancing across your vision.

"S-Sukuna..." His name emerged as little more than a strained rasp. "I...won't leave...you."

Something indiscernible flickered behind his raging ferocity in that endless moment of stillness. His grip slackened a bare fraction, just enough for you to suck in a ragged gasp of air that seared like fire down your abused windpipe.

Before he could summon the will to renew his merciless onslaught, you pressed forward with quivering hands outstretched, placing them against his heaving chest. He stiffened at the contact, but did not retreat or rebuff your trembling advance.

"Please, Sukuna..." you rasped, meeting his tortured glare with steady imploration. "Let me in...just this once."

His lips peeled back to expose a rictus of fangs in a final, thunderous snarl of primal resistance. But as the seconds ticked by with agonizing slowness, the tension seemed to incrementally drain away, until only a bone-deep weariness remained etched in the harsh planes of his striking features.

With a low, subterranean rumble, the cursed spirit dropped into an ungainly crouch, until at last his proud, indomitable head lay cradled in your waiting palms. His eyelids slitted to mere crescents of lambent crimson as you sank shakily to your knees before him, every remaining shred of resistance crumbling into ash.

"Do as you will, foolish girl," he breathed, his voice little more than a ghostly rasp. "But make it count...for you may not get another chance."

He allowed his eyes to close fully then, the final rampart between his furious cursed pride and the infinitesimal seed of human vulnerability blossoming between you giving way at last. Hands trembling with a thousand warring emotions, you reached out and began tenderly clearing away the cloying streaks of gore and viscera that marred his statuesque features - a silent vigil that would mark the first flickers of a connection both of you had fought so viciously to deny.

The ensuing days after Sukuna's grievous injuries had been tended stretched into an interminable silence so deafening, you could practically feel it weighing upon your very bones. The cursed spirit had retreated into himself like a wounded animal, avoiding your questioning gaze and concerned overtures with an almost frantic single-mindedness.

Where once his imposing presence had been an inescapable constant at your side, now he was utterly absent - a specter that haunted the shadowed fringes of the lair, retreating deeper into the gloom whenever you dared approach. Even the sanctuary of his private chambers had become off-limits, the air around it saturated with a tense, forbidding aura that screamed stay away.

At first, you tried to chalk up his mercurial behavior to simply needing space to recuperate and process the harrowing ordeal he had endured. But as the days bled into weeks without a single word or sidelong glance from your self-appointed jailer, a simmering frustration began corroding the anxious concern you harbored.

This recent stint of avoidance was entirely unprecedented, even for Sukuna's infamously fickle temperament. You found yourself lying awake at night, tossing restlessly as a litany of increasingly agitated thoughts swirled through your mind.

Was he truly so disgusted by whatever vestiges of vulnerability you had glimpsed that day? Had you finally overstepped some unspoken boundary that severed the tenuous connection you had so painstakingly forged?

The flicker of panic that possibility sparked within your chest ultimately propelled you into motion one evening, as the inky shadows began their nightly unfurling across the ancient shrine grounds. Slipping from your modest sleeping quarters, you stalked the familiar warren of tunnels and crumbling chambers with renewed determination blazing in your eyes.

You reached Sukuna's sanctum just as the cursed spirit himself materialized at the entrance, clearly intent on disappearing elsewhere once more before you could catch him. His steps slowed fractionally as his piercing gaze registered your presence, lips immediately peeling back in a menacing snarl of displeasure.

Yet you stood your ground, arms crossed stubbornly over your chest as you leveled him with an unwavering stare. "Not this time."

Sukuna seemed to swell with wrath at your brazen rebuttal, the very air around him growing thick and suffocating with his barely-restrained power. "You dare seek to bar my way, insolent girl?"

Despite the deadly undercurrent to his words, you did not so much as flinch. "I dare demand answers," you shot back, amazed by the sheer bravery - or perhaps foolishness - fueling your own voice. "You can't keep avoiding me forever, Sukuna. And you sure as hell can't abandon this place and leave me wondering."

A dangerous crimson glimmer flickered behind his obsidian eyes at your impertinent challenge. With a speed that caused the air to whip your hair, he closed the distance between you in two ground-devouring strides, his looming silhouette casting you in shadow.

"You presume much, leech," he spat, the old epithet dripping with as much venom as a serpent's fangs. "Were it any other who showed such disrespect, I would tear them asunder without a moment's hesitation." One thick-nailed finger trailed along your jawline, the caress carrying a blatantly threatening weight. "Do you truly wish to test the limits of my dwindling patience?"

But you obstinately refused to be cowed, tilting your chin up in defiant challenge. "Then do it. Tear me apart, if that's what you want." Your voice was soft but unwavering, the naked conviction behind it seeming to momentarily undercut Sukuna's towering menace. "We both know you won't follow through on that threat...I just can't fathom why."

The cursed spirit recoiled almost imperceptibly at that, a muscle twitching in his clenched jaw. For a span of heartbeats, you could practically see the roiling tempest building behind his eyes as he struggled to formulate a response.

Then, it burst forth in a tumultuous torrent, as if some invisible dam had been irreparably breached.

"Because you haunt me, you insufferable blight!" he snarled, thick fingers tightening in your hair until it stung. "For years, you've chipped away at my defenses with your pestilent tenacity, worming your way past every wall I built until I could no longer be rid of you!"

His free hand slammed into the wall beside your head, the stone buckling inward from the sheer force as he loomed over you like a force of nature given mortal shape. "Your existence has become as indispensable to me as breath itself, do you comprehend that?! Every wretched thought, every insipid desire, can no longer be conceived without your infuriating visage lingering at the mind!"

Another blow struck the unforgiving barrier as his onslaught continued unchecked, words belying emotions so violently profound they could scarcely be contained. "Your heartbeat has become a rhythm that my whole wretched self is forced to follow! TO RID MYSELF OF YOU NOW WOULD BE THE SAME AS CARVING OUT MY OWN WRETCHED SOUL!"

His monumental wrath finally crested in that suspended instant, hands clenching into trembling claws at his sides as if he yearned to grab you and simultaneously pull you close or dash you against the nearest immovable surface. You gaped up at him, utterly transfixed and speechless in the face of such a cataclysmic admission.

Sukuna searched your face with a look of abject desperation, as if willing you to give voice to the very understanding that eluded his tormented grasp. When you remained silent, he seemed to crumple slightly, his shoulders drawing inward with a ragged exhalation.

"Well?!" The single, plaintive word scraped from his lips, more broken plea than demand. "Speak, damn you! Put voice to the festering sickness I cannot rid myself of, no matter how I strain against it!"

Slowly, as if in a daze, you shook your head in a woefully inadequate gesture. "Sukuna, I..."

Your voice trailed off as color rapidly bloomed across your cheeks, eyes abruptly skittering away from his intense scrutiny. By the time they drifted back up to settle on his features, a fiery combination of audacity and sheer longing had taken root.

"I want to kiss you right now," you breathed, the words carrying every ounce of yearning thrumming through your thunderous pulse, "...but I can't reach."

As the simple admission hung in the weighted stillness, you watched transfixed as a myriad of fleeting emotions flickered across Sukuna's striking features. Surprise, naked vulnerability, even a glimmer of what could have been confused for shy uncertainty - until at last, his lips curved in the ghost of a sardonic smirk.

A soft huff of breath parted from the cursed spirit's lips - the unmistakable rumble of restrained amusement resonating from his granite-hewn chest. Yet rather than the mocking disdain you had grown accustomed to over the years, this exhalation carried an undercurrent of begrudging fondness...affection, even.

Slowly, with deliberate carefulness, Sukuna sank to his knees before you, allowing his towering stature to diminish until you were virtually eye-to-eye. His penetrating obsidian gaze remained unwavering, pinning you under the weight of its molten scrutiny as he seemed to drink in your every nuanced reaction.

"Is that so, little leech?" His words were little more than a low rumble, stripped of any bite or rancor. "You wish to bestow your affections upon this...undeserving curse?"

You swallowed hard, mustering every shred of bravery humming through your veins as you gave a infinitesimal nod. Sukuna's lips quirked in a fractional smile, one edge hitching up ever-so-slightly in a subtle softening of his perpetually harsh features.

"Very well then, you sweet fool," he murmured, the rumbling baritone of his voice seeming to reverberate straight into your core. "I shall grant you this indulgence...for now."

With that, he shifted infinitesimally closer, until you could feel the heated puffs of his exhalations ghosting across your face...until his rugged silhouette filled your entire field of vision, encompassing and infinite and utterly overwhelming in its proximity.

Pausing there with exquisite restraint, Sukuna searched your features one final time, allowing one last fragile heartbeat of respite before inclining his regal head in a barely perceptible nod.

The faintest of whispers, little more than the suggestion of his warm breath ghosting against your mouth. "Proceed, my leech."

In the days that followed Sukuna's vulnerability laid bare before you, a tectonic shift seemed to reverberate through the very foundations of your peculiar existence together. What had once been an intricate dance of push and pull, antipathy and grudging acceptance, had blossomed into something altogether new...something infinitely more electric and profound.

If you didn't know better, you might have assumed the legendary harbinger of curses had undergone a complete metamorphosis in the wake of that pivotal moment shared between you. Yet even at his most doting - his most outwardly affectionate - the unmistakable kernel of Sukuna's uncompromising intensity remained.

You noticed it most profoundly in the way his obsidian eyes would trail your every movement, never once straying from your form with a sort of palpable weight and hunger that made your pulse thunder. No matter how seemingly mundane your activities - tending your garden, preparing the evening meal over the hearth fire, simply sitting and staring off into the middle distance - his piercing stare was an inescapable tether tying you back to earth.

At first, you tried valiantly to ignore the way his massive presence seemed to loom over you at every turn, casting its hulking silhouette across yours in a manner that was both comforting and faintly discomfiting. But Sukuna was nothing if not relentless...and persistent in his quest to shatter the very foundations of personal space itself.

It began with the brushes of contact that seemed to linger a moment too long at first - the rough pads of his fingers traipsing across the exposed curve of your shoulder in passing, or ghosting along the small of your back as he navigated around your slight frame. Simple, chaste gestures that nonetheless raised the fine hairs along your nape with their loaded promise of so much more.

Then came the blatant encroachments, as if the cursed spirit had grown impatient with even the slightest iota of perceived distance between you. One moment you would be standing before the hearth cooking utensils in hand, gently humming an idle tune under your breath. The next, Sukuna's towering bulk would materialize at your back, chest pressing flush against you as corded arms snaked around your hips to bracket your frame against his.

"Y-your hands are in the way..." you'd stammered the first time, acutely aware of the masculine heat radiating off of him in waves. "I can't cook like this."

The response had been a low, rumbling chuckle vibrating against your back, shortly followed by the unmistakable brush of Sukuna's lips against the sensitive juncture of your neck and shoulder.

"Then don't cook, foolish girl," came the gravelly murmur against your flushed skin. "Not when I've yet to properly satisfy my own...hunger."

From there, his public displays of ravenous affection only escalated. No activity seemed exempt from his roving hands and wandering mouth bestowing their lusty attentions upon you with shameless fervor. He would haul you into his lap with little preamble as you chatted idly, effortlessly trapping you within his brawny thighs as he pressed scorchingly hot kisses along your jawline and the column of your throat.

More than once, you found yourself rendered speechless in the midst of some menial task or another - breath catching as Sukuna simply wrapped himself around your smaller frame from behind, nuzzling the crown of your head while emitting a soft rumble of sheer contentment.

"Your incessant blathering was insufferable before, yet now the silence grates upon my senses," he'd grumble against your hair, flexing his grip around your hips a fraction tighter. "Speak, leech. Let me bask in your existence a while longer."

When night fell and the two of you inevitably gravitated towards the plush embrace of his sleeping pallet, any pretenses went out the window entirely. Sukuna seemed determined to enfold you in his granite-hewn embrace until you were thoroughly and utterly consumed, limbs intertwined as his muscular bulk smothered you beneath its sweltering weight.

"S-Sukuna, I can't breathe!" you'd gasp in mock protest, squirming fruitlessly in the iron bands of all four of his arms as his lips found the feverish pulse beating in the hollow of your throat.

"Breathing is an indulgence, not a necessity at present..." would come the velvet-over-gravel purr against your sweat-dampened skin. "Be still, mine."

You lost track of how many nights you awoke curled atop his chest like a favored pet, buffeted by the rise and fall of his deep, slumbering breaths. But rather than extract yourself, you gradually found your own hand drifting up to trace the sharp, austere contours of the face regarding you through half-lidded eyes - his expression curiously unguarded in those hushed moments before the sun crested the horizon.

"Your fascination bores into my thoughts, even in sleep," he'd rumble, arching one imperious brow while making no move to dislodge you. "Does your insufferable scrutiny never end?"

You would simply shake your head, fingers trailing to the masculine curve of his lower lip as you committed every beloved detail to memory. "No more than your need to keep me close does, it seems."

A huff of sardonic laughter before his arms flexed and crushed you more tightly against his chest, all traces of humor melting away into naked, vulnerable sincerity.

"Too true, leech...too true." His deep timbre would reverberate through your very soul as he brushed a lingering kiss across your brow. "Now sleep...and grant me the mercy of indulging this unforgivable weakness a while longer."

Hushing any reply with the molten brand of his lips upon yours, he would acquiesce to the inevitable pull of slumber with you cradled against him like a talisman...twin souls shielded from the rest of the world's harsh realities if only for a few stolen hours.

The gentle burbling of the river provided a soothing melody as you sank into its welcoming embrace, allowing the tepid waters to lap soothingly against your bare skin. A contented sigh parted your lips as you tilted your head back, basking in the warmth of the midday sun filtering through the canopy overhead.

Yet you couldn't quite shake the unmistakable prickling awareness that something...or someone...was watching you.

Dragging your lashes open, your gaze was immediately arrested by Sukuna's imposing silhouette seated on a nearby boulder at the river's edge. His eyes positively smoldered with naked intensity, drinking in every exposed inch of your damp skin with ravenous hunger.

You felt an instinctive flush creeping up your neck and cheeks under the sheer weight of his molten perusal. Not that his frank ogling came as any surprise - the cursed spirit had made little effort to disguise his desire during the past years. But there was something heavy and electric crackling in the air around him now...something more visceral and carnal thrumming through his coiled muscles as he watched you.

Almost involuntarily, your arms drifted up to attempt shielding your bare curves from his searing gaze, throat tightening minutely. "S-Sukuna...must you stare like that?"

The words emerged in a breathless murmur, your gaze skittering across the sharp planes of his features in a futile attempt to avoid being utterly pinned like a butterfly to wax paper. Yet his eyes remained utterly unmoving, devouring you with dark promise.

"And why should I not?" The low rumble of his voice seemed to reverberate through your very bones, sending delicious little tremors shivering along your nerve endings as if in premonition. "Do you not comprehend how utterly bewitching a vision you present, resting among the water's crystalline touch like some mythical nymph?"

You swallowed hard at the ardent compliment laced through with undisguised yearning. Despite the amorous attentions he had already lavished upon you, Sukuna never failed to set your pulse thundering with even his subtlest invocations of desire.

"If you find me so pleasing to look at..." you ventured, aiming for nonchalance but only succeeding in sounding softly winded, "then perhaps you could indulge me and look away? Just for a little while?"

A pregnant pause stretched between you as he appraised your halting request, that mercurial gleam flickering briefly behind his volcanic stare. Then, a low rumble of sardonic laughter rolled forth as his lips quirked in an amused sneer.

"Look away?" he echoed, tongue curling around the words with relish while his gaze continued its shameless roving. "And forfeit the pleasure of imprinting every inch of your body into my memory? I think not, dearest leech."

Sukuna's hulking frame surged to its feet in one fluid, leonine movement that immediately stole the breath from your lungs. Slowly, he began advancing towards the river's edge with inexorable intent simmering in every ground-devouring stride.

"In truth...gazing upon your exquisite form any longer might jeopardize what fragile restraint still tethers my baser urges," he continued, a low, rumbling growl that made you shiver in spite of the water's warmth. "No...I've indulged in simple voyeurism more than long enough, I think."

You felt your pulse skyrocket as the meaning behind his words penetrated the hazy veil of desire blurring your senses. Sinking deeper into the shallows, you instinctively drew your knees up in a futile attempt at modesty, breath catching in your throat as Sukuna reached the riverbank.

"W-what do you mean?" you stammered, even as a profound certainty took root in the pit of your stomach. You knew exactly what he meant...what he intended. The mere prospect of it sent a molten thrill of equal parts trepidation and exhilaration lancing through your veins.

In lieu of responding with hollow words, the cursed spirit simply appraised you with a look of rapturous, unvarnished need for a suspended breath...before effortlessly discarding the tattered remnants of his clothing and stepping into the shallows with purposeful, silent intent.

You couldn't tear your eyes away if you tried, thoroughly transfixed as he stalked ever closer with all the sublime grace of a panther emerging from the underbrush. Raw power and earthy masculinity radiated from his every flex and ripple of corded muscle, enveloping you in its gravitational pull until he loomed over you like an elemental force contained in mortal flesh.

Sukuna gazed down at you for several suspended heartbeats, something deep and profound lurking in those abyssal depths. Then, with aching slowness, he reached for you - the first caress of his calloused fingertips trailing across your jaw and down the quivering column of your throat with searing reverence.

"I want you..." The confession emerged in a low rasp burred with strain, yet ringing with indelible conviction. "Every exquisite shred of your mind, body and soul wrapped around my own indelibly. To become so thoroughly entangled that not even the boundaries of eternity could serve to separate us..."

With a shuddering gasp, you surged up to meet him, wrapping your arms around the granite expanse of his shoulders and finding his mouth in a searing, needful kiss. He answered with a bestial growl, hands spanning your back to crush you against the scorching brand of his body as the world momentarily ceased to exist beyond your joined exhilaration.

What transpired next in the sylvan seclusion of the forest hollow defied articulation through mere human tongue or pen. A communion of two souls who had danced upon the frayed edges of merciless boundaries for far too long, now diving recklessly, irrevocably into the churning depths of whatever thrice-damned connection bound them.

There was no more hesitation or restraint, only an exquisite ache of yearning met with Sukuna's furious brand of intensity - the push and pull of eternal cosmic forces colliding in a single crystalline vertex as you tangled together amid the water's eternal cadence. His mouth and hands and the raging power contained in his very being cleaved you in two, stoking embers into raging conflagrations that threatened to set the very air alight with each gasping breath and trembling caress.

It was only afterwards, when coherent thought fractured through the haze of bliss cradling your senses, that you became aware of Sukuna gathered you up against his chest with preternatural gentleness. His mouth ghosted across your brow reverently as you nuzzled into the thrum of his pulse, every hitched breath carrying the same aching awe and untempered adoration as before.

There were no words spoken as he carried you from the shallows and back towards the sanctum of his domain, only the weight of a connection irrevocably and infinitely forged fresh upon your souls.

The following weeks dissolved into a fevered haze of tangled limbs and breathless intimacy. Sukuna kept you sequestered in the shadowed sanctum of his chambers, allowing scarcely a moment's reprieve before his smoldering gaze and calloused touches stoked your shared passion anew.

With a low, rumbling growl, he would surge over you, pinning your pliant form beneath the scorching brand of his granite-hewn bulk. His large palms mapped every dip and swell of your curves, calloused fingertips tracing paths of searing devotion across your feverish skin until you arched shamelessly into his sensual ministrations.

Sukuna worshipped you with an intensity that bordered on primal obsession. His mouth branded scorching kisses along the elegant column of your throat, teeth grazing that sensitive juncture where your pulse fluttered erratically under his merciless onslaught. You lost yourself to the exquisite duality of pain and pleasure, body thrumming with unbridled ecstasy as he sheathed himself inside your welcoming heat over and over until the world shattered apart.

In the blissful afterglow, he would cradle you against his chest, reverent fingers trailing idle patterns through your disheveled tresses as you drifted in sublime, satiated languor. "Rest now, my precious leech," he would murmur gruffly. "You'll need your strength...for I've only just begun to lay claim to what's mine."

True to his velvet promise, the cursed spirit allowed no quarter for respite, driving you both to sublime precipices with relentless fervor night after night.

Until one particular dawn found you rousing from a restorative slumber, only to find Sukuna looming over you - his harsh features limned in soft pearl light, eyes burning with an indecipherable intensity. Before you could question his strange mood, he silenced you with a calloused fingertip, leaning in to trail the other hand down the taut plane of your abdomen in a shockingly tender caress.

Then, to your utter bewilderment, Sukuna dipped his proud head and pressed his brow against that same spot with an infinitesimal tremor racing through his powerful frame. He remained frozen like that for several weighted beats before rearing back, utterly transfixed.

"You are with child," he rasped in a low rumble of awe, obsidian eyes roving your body with naked reverence. "My child."

One hand extended as if to caress your abdomen once more, only to still just before making contact - as if restraining himself from laying claim to something inviolably sacred. When his molten gaze crashed back to yours, it burned with the intensity of a thousand suns, every facet of the indomitable spirit laid bare.

"Did you not comprehend what you agreed to when you forever bound yourself to me, foolish girl?"

Utterly transfixed, you could only shake your head in a dazed stupor as Sukuna's granite-hewn form descended over yours once more, fitting your bodies together with devastating precision as if sealing an unspoken cosmic covenant.

"Then allow me to show you..." he growled against the swell of your parted lips, voice shredded with rapture and ardent possession as he sealed your joined fates with another searing embrace.

As the weeks melted into months and your pregnancy blossomed, Sukuna's already ardent doting intensified tenfold into something borderline primal. The cursed spirit remained an inextricable bulwark at your side, allowing scarcely a moment's separation between you as your condition advanced.

His touches, once ravenous and claiming, now carried an undercurrent of exquisite tenderness and devotion. Whenever possible, one of his large, calloused palms would splay across the burgeoning swell of your abdomen in a silent reassurance of his vigil. You lost count of how many times you awoke cradled against the scorching brand of his bare chest, with Sukuna's obsidian gaze riveted to your midsection - as if he could will their unborn child into manifesting through the sheer weight of his intensity.

Often, he would lie utterly motionless beside you for what felt like eons, fingers lightly tracing the taut curve of your belly in contemplative reverie. Then, as if beckoned by some unseen summons, he would stiffen almost imperceptibly before a look of naked awe blossomed across his austere features.

"There..." he'd murmur, voice little more than a rasping whisper thick with emotion as his palm flattened firmly against your abdomen. "Feel that, leech? Our offspring moves with prodigious vigor..."

You would laugh softly in breathless delight at the sensation of minute flutters blossoming into unmistakable kicks against his steadying hand, always in awe of Sukuna's inexplicable ability to anticipate them. Amusement would sparkle in the inky depths of your shared gaze whenever he harrumphed indignantly at your mirth, a hint of that old familiar imperiousness writ across his chiseled features.

"Mock me if you wish," he'd growl, leaning in to nuzzle the fragrant hollow beneath your ear. "But you'll not deter me, even for a moment. This life you bear will want for nothing while its father keeps watch..."

Then the hot brand of his mouth would slant over yours in a ferociously devouring kiss, his free hand roving relentlessly across your sensitized curves with scorching intent. You surrendered to his inflamed ardor completely, shamelessly reveling in the molten frissons of desire Sukuna so effortlessly incited in you even well into your third trimester.

" Insatiable..." you'd gasp between fevered caresses, squirming futilely against the granite cradle of his pelvis undulating against yours. "The child's practically done cooking and you still can't keep your hands off me..."

An iniquitous smirk would curve his lips in answer as his mouth trailed liquid heat along the taut column of your throat. "And whose fault is that, precious leech? You taunt me with every look, each intake of breath that gently swells your form... How could I resist feasting upon such utter temptation while I still can?"

This interlude would inevitably lead to another protracted joining, all the more impassioned due to the constraints necessitated by your condition. Yet Sukuna appeared undeterred - energized - by the challenges inherent in worshipping your burgeoning shape. No position or angle seemed too unorthodox to accommodate, so long as he could indulge in every newly hypersensitized inch of satin skin left panting and flushed in the smoldering wake of his lavish attentions.

And when, at long last, even your seemingly boundless ardor reached its peak and left you limp and thoroughly sated, he would huff a self-satisfied growl against your temple. His palms would caress the gentle swell with a tenderness that never failed to steal your breath anew as you reveled in the tranquility of the aftermath.

"Sleep, mine..." he'd rumble, the inflection soft yet weighted with immutable possession. "I shall revel in our offspring's vigor until I fall asleep as well..."

So you would slip into blissful oblivion cradled securely against Sukuna's granite contours, lulled by the measured pounding of his heartbeat and the reassuring glide of his fingertips tracing idle sigils against your abdomen. Safe in the knowledge that while your world had irrevocably shifted and expanded to encompass this extraordinary metamorphosis, his unwavering guardianship remained the inviolable anchor grounding your joined existence.

Even before the child took its first breath, Sukuna had dedicated every fiber of his towering, unearthly being to ensuring neither you nor his young would ever know a moment's doubt...a single tremulous heartbeat beyond the sheltering, infinite orbit of his devotion.

Sukuna's jaw was set in a taut line as he prepared to depart, the muscle ticking visibly beneath his chiseled features. His obsidian eyes burned with an intensity that could incinerate souls as he raked his smoldering gaze over your form.

"I will return before the moon sets," he growled, the words laced with an undercurrent of vehement reluctance. "But you are not to exert yourself or wander far, leech. This separation tries my restraint enough as it is."

Sensing the turmoil simmering beneath his imposing veneer, you offered a placating smile and reached up to trace the harsh contours of his face. "I'll be fine, my love. The little one and I will explore the garden for some fresh air, nothing more."

Sukuna's eyes slitted dangerously at your flippant reassurance, but he made no further rebuke. With a disdainful snort, he turned on his heel and stalked away, disappearing into the shadowed tree line like a wrathful specter consigned to some undesirable errand.

Shaking your head fondly at his overprotectiveness, you set off towards the burgeoning garden sanctuary at an unhurried pace, drinking in the vibrant scenery and allowing the tranquility to soothe your restlessness.

You never saw the vile, twisted figure slithering through the underbrush until it was too late. An aura of pure malevolence radiated from its very presence, freezing you in place like a rabbit in a snake's thrall. Those haunting words like rusted nails on a headstone would be the last thing you processed before the darkness claimed you:

"Well, well...what a delightful prize you'll make..."

The air was fragrantly alive with the perfume of fresh fruit as Sukuna materialized at the entrance of his sanctum, arms laden with an assortment of your latest cravings. His strides slowed fractionally as the silence stretched on without your usual cheerful greeting, the furrow between his brows deepening incrementally.

"Leech?" he called out gruffly, piercing gaze sweeping their domain with mounting unease. Where was the insufferable chatterbox? Ordinarily she would have come scampering at the mere hint of his return, practically levitating with excitement over whatever frivolous indulgences he'd procured.

That's when he caught the faintest undercurrent of a malign presence tainting the air - a profane blight that caused the hairs along his nape to bristle with instinctive aggression. Sukuna rounded the corner with the swift lethality of a panther, only to freeze as his eyes landed upon a grotesque, hunched figure blocking his path.

"Meddlesome vermin," he snarled, drawing himself up to his full towering height as unholy power thrummed beneath his very skin. "Where is the girl?"

The man let out a gurgling, wet chuckle that grated like rusty blades before gesturing carelessly towards the shadows behind it. "Oh she's around here somewhere...what's left of her anyway."

White-hot rage detonated through Sukuna's being like a shockwave, barely allowing the malformed words to register before he lashed out with catastrophic force. One second the creature stood leering with repugnant confidence...and the next its entire vile essence had been utterly erased from existence without so much as a parting scream to mark its demise.

As the residual ozone of his onslaught simmered into eerie quiet once more, only one thought pounded through Sukuna's skull with inescapable dread. With each frantic bellow of your name that echoed unanswered through the labyrinthine corridors, the knot of trepidation within him twisted ever tighter until it threatened to splinter his ribs from the inside out.

When at last his frenzied search reached the fringes of the garden, there you lay mere feet from the treeline - a crumpled, motionless silhouette wreathed in rapidly congealing crimson that very nearly brought the indomitable Sukuna to his knees.

He crossed the space in two lurching strides, sinking to the loamy earth beside your broken form as gently as his shaking hands would allow. Calloused fingertips ghosted across the pale curve of your cheek, the warmth so recently alight there already seeping away into the abyss of oblivion far too soon.

With excruciating care, Sukuna cradled you against his chest, willing his desperate touches to somehow reignite the brilliant spark of your radiant existence. Yet as his palm came to rest upon the swell that housed the fragile blossom of new life you had both sworn fealty to beyond the constraints of eternity itself...he felt nothing.

No tremulous flutter of vitality, no rhythm of a miniature heartbeat destined to become his entire world. Just...emptiness. A void that stole the very breath from his lungs and seared his eyes with an unforgivable ache he didn't dare put a name to.

In that moment, the indomitable force of nature that was Sukuna could do nothing but draw your lifeless body flush against his own. His lips brushed your cooling brow with a tenderness too profound for words as his piercing gaze glassed over, staring sightlessly into the endless oblivion your light had fled.

No roars of anguish rent the air. No seismic upheaval of his cosmic maleficence rocked the foundations in inconsolable devastation. Only the scouring blanket of silence and stillness fell...engulfing the once indomitable Sukuna in a void more vast and eternal than any eternity he'd ever known.

The hushed stillness that blanketed the clearing felt utterly suffocating, a death knell smothering every infinitesimal particle until reality itself seemed to grind to a halt. Sukuna remained frozen, trapped in the hollowed vacuum of this calamity as he cradled your lifeless form with a tenderness that defied every facet of his fearsome, primordial nature.

For once, there were no words - no gravel-toned rumbles of reassurance or the faintest flickers of consolation that you would stir and blink up at him with that radiant warmth he had grown terribly, irrevocably addicted to. Just the silence...and the fading whisper of your breath mingling with his own before fading away entirely.

"Breathe, damn you..." The ragged plea emerged as little more than a fractured rasp as his hand drifted up to cradle the back of your skull, thumbs brushing featherlight against your marbled cheeks. "Fight against me as you always do when I overstep, leech. Unleash that stubborn, foolish spark upon me once more..."

But you remained achingly, horrifically still - a fragile husk where the vivacious spirit who had bound your fates together once blazed with unfettered vitality. Sukuna's throat worked convulsively, lips shaping a benediction he could no longer bear to speak aloud, lest it seal your oblivion in inevitable truth.

So instead he lost himself in the reverie of recollection, frantically revisiting every infinitesimal moment and indelible impression seared into the cosmos of his being. From that fateful eve in the forest when you'd first foolishly bound yourself to his existential path...to the shared agonies and hard-won intimacies and sacred vows that had incrementally chipped away at his callous exterior until the most unshakable bastion lay irrevocably breached.

Yours had been the beating heart that carried his own bestial cadence in tandem, an orbit of incandescent radiance to which he remained hopelessly, inescapably tethered. And with that searing spark of your effervescence now extinguished, the darkness of his eternal existence stretched on in a hollow, suffocating void he could scarcely fathom enduring.

Trembling fingers tangled in your lank tresses, smoothing the silken strands away from your features in one last, tender caress. Sukuna pressed his brow to yours, allowing the achingly finite essence that had once reverberated between your entwined spirits to soak into his marrow one ultimate time.

"I am…undone, precious leech..." he whispered, every timber of his deep voice sheared to anguished splinters against the weight of this ineffable parting. "I am erased...unmade...what force could keep my tormented soul anchored to life without you as its guiding light?"

He drew a rasping breath, memorizing the flutter of your lashes against his cheek and the softness of your brow furrowed ever so slightly - just as he had that first, fateful evening you bound yourself to his dark orbit. Then Sukuna's lips found yours in one final, searing brand...the farewell benediction and aching vow that an eternity would never suffice to articulate.

As his burning touch lingered there fractionally longer than any mortal lifespan, the cursed spirit felt something ancient and primal splinter deep within his celestial essence. The uncaring cosmos itself seemed to crack and wheeze in protest as he sliced through its indifferent veil, severing every tether that lashed his malign power and eternal vitality to its perpetual cycle.

Uncaring of the fallout, Sukuna simply clung to your slackened frame, allowing the irrevocable oblivion of his fading existence to blanket you both in its infinite solace. If he strained mortal perception, he could almost glimpse the fractured glimmers flickering at the periphery - the first vestiges of that spark he'd once sworn to follow like an insipid moth into its searing, soul-cleansing embrace.

Of oblivion's sweet, eternal reunion with the only light he'd ever known...the final tether securing his wretched existence to all of creation's truths irrevocably severed at last.

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thewulf · 4 months

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Starlit Promises || Legolas

Summary: Request - Heyy I really like how you write Legolas and also your writing in general so I thought I'd request a Legolas x reader where in reader saves him from an orc attack and got hurt in the process. Hehe that's all have a good day!

A/N: Ahhh I really like this one. Ty Anon for the amazing request as always.

Pairing: Legolas x Elf Female Reader

Word Count: 4.2k +

TW: Orcs, attack, shot with an arrow, poison, angst, sad Legolas

Growing up in the lush, enigmatic depths of Mirkwood had shaped you into the warrior you are today. Side by side with Legolas you had spent countless hours under the tutelage of the same masters learning the arts of combat and stealth. Though your paths within the kingdom's defense forces eventually diverged with Legolas rising to accompany his father on diplomatic missions and you embedding deeper into the scout units you never lost the connection forged in those formative years.

Your friendship with Legolas was based on a foundation of deep respect and a shared love for the vast, mysterious woodland that was your home. Over the years, King Thranduil himself had come to hold you in high regard as he appreciated how you continually challenged and supported his son. Making sure to keep him grounded and focused.

After many seasons apart, duty finally brought you back together. It was a reunion marked by warm smiles and a quick rekindling of your lifelong friendship. Eager to make the most of this reunion you both decided to embark on a patrol through some of the darker much less traveled parts of Mirkwood. These regions were where the trees grew dense, and the shadows lingered. They were known for being unpredictable, yet they offered a serene beauty that was unmatched elsewhere in the kingdom.

As you walked alongside Legolas, your steps silent and your senses alert, you found comfort in the familiar presence of your friend. The air was filled with the sounds of distant waterfalls and the occasional call of a wood pigeon. Conversation flowed easily between you. It was filled with stories of past exploits and shared adventures. It was as if no time had passed at all, and you were just two young elves exploring the woods as you had all those hundreds of years ago.

Yet, the peace of the forest was deceptive and as seasoned warriors both of you remained vigilant. It was a routine patrol on the surface but in Mirkwood with the darkness ever growing one could never be too careful. Little did you know the shadows held more than just the whispers of ancient trees that day.

In the shadow-drenched depths of Mirkwood where the dense canopy stifled even the slightest beam of sunlight you and Legolas moved with the silent grace of seasoned warriors. The forest's deceptive calm should have been your first warning, but you were so engrossed in his presence you didn’t think too much of it. It was a heavy stillness that shrouded the advance of danger. It was in this eerie silence that the ambush was sprung as a large band of orcs burst from their hidden positions among the twisted undergrowth.

In the midst of the intense and chaotic battle with the clash of metal resounding through the ancient trees of Mirkwood a sudden, jarring sound made your heart skip a beat. It was the distinct twang of a bowstring. A sound you’d recognize anywhere amidst the close-quarters combat that it sent a ripple of alarm through you.

You and Legolas were back-to-back and fighting in seamless coordination Legolas's breath hitched audibly, a rare sign of his alarm. His voice was urgent and tinged with a touch of panic as it reached your ears over the din of battle.

"Y/N, the leader, he's aiming for—"

Before he could finish you saw the movement. A shadowy figure at a distance with a notched arrow gleaming with a sinister sheen that could only mean poison. Time seemed to slow as you realized the target was none other than Legolas himself.

With a surge of adrenaline, you acted on pure instinct. "Legolas, down!" you shouted pushing him towards the ground even as you leaped to intercept the flight path of the arrow.

Legolas who was forced down by your push hit the forest floor hard. He turned just in time to see your actions. "No, Y/N!" His voice was laced with horror and desperation as he realized what you were about to do.

The arrow struck and the sound of your grunt of pain was drowned out by Legolas's anguished yell. He scrambled to his feet eyes wide with a mixture of fear and fury. "Why would you do this?" he bellowed. His voice cracking with a mix of horror and desperation. His eyes were wide with shock and nearing tears. They searched yours for an answer he could not find in the chaos of his own emotions.

As you staggered from the impact the world began to blur at the edges as the poison was already coursing through your veins. With what strength you had left you managed to whisper, trying to reassure him despite the growing darkness clouding your vision. "Had to... save you. Watch out... he has more..."

Legolas was now beside himself with worry and rage. He turned his attention back to the orc leader with a fierce glare. His usual calm demeanor was shattered by the sight of you injured because of him. He drew his own arrow with a swift, deadly precision that was uncharacteristic but fueled by his tumultuous emotions. "No one harms you and escapes unscathed," he murmured almost to himself as he prepared to return the favor with lethal intent.

What followed was a blur of motion and violence. Legolas moved like a tempest. His arrows finding their marks with lethal precision. Each strike was a blow against his own anguish, a defiance of the fate that had struck you down. The orcs fell one by one. They were no match for the wrath of a prince fighting for the life of a friend he so dearly loved.

As the last of the orcs crumpled to the forest floor, silenced forever, Legolas turned back to where you lay, your face pale and your breaths shallow. He knelt beside you, his hands shaking as he gently lifted you into his arms. The forest seemed to hold its breath. The usual whispers of the leaves stilled by the gravity of the moment.

Legolas's steps were swift and sure as he began the urgent journey back to the healers. Each step was a race against the relentless creep of the poison within you. As he moved with his arms secure around you he began to whisper. His voice a soft contrast to the earlier fury that had consumed him.

"Stay with me," he murmured. His words tinged with a desperation he had never known. "You must stay with me." His voice broke as the reality of the situation pressed upon him. The weight of his emotions threatening to overwhelm his stoic facade.

The forest blurred past as Legolas with you cradled securely in his arms. He pushed through the undergrowth with an urgency born of sheer desperation. The poison from the orc’s arrow was relentless and with each labored breath you took his heart clenched tighter.

As he hurried his voice was a steady stream of encouragement meant to fortify both your spirits and his own resolve. “You’re so strong. You can fight this,” he urged quietly. His tone gentle yet firm. The dense foliage seemed to part before his determination. The shadows of Mirkwood bending to his will.

“You have to hold on. I need you to hold on,” he continued. His voice only for you. A personal warmth amidst the encroaching darkness of your pain. His words were a lifeline thrown in the hope that your spirit would grasp it and cling to life.

Within his mind a storm of thoughts raged. As he looked down at your face contorted with the effort to stay conscious he was struck by a revelation so profound it rooted itself deep within his soul. I love her, he realized with startling clarity. The thought was both a balm and a torment emerging amidst the terror of possibly losing you. Why did it take the brink of losing her to see how vital she is to me? His heart ached with the weight of his newfound understanding. An understanding that came at such a cruel cost.

Meanwhile, you, despite the searing pain, felt the urgency in his voice and it gave you a focus. A point to anchor your fading strength. You tried to respond. To give him some sign that you heard him. That you were fighting not just for your own life, but for him, for the future you hadn't yet considered might be possible together. Your lips moved slightly as a whisper of sound that was more an exhale of pain than coherent words.

Legolas felt the faint stir of your attempt to speak and it spurred him on. His strides growing even more determined. “Just a little farther,” he promised you, and perhaps himself. “We’re almost there. Stay with me.”

His mind continued to race with thoughts of love and loss, but he kept these revelations locked within choosing instead to flood you with hopeful, encouraging words. Every step was a silent vow. Every heartbeat a silent plea to whatever fates watched over the elves of Mirkwood.

As the gates of the palace finally came into sighta surge of tentative relief washed over him. The guards recognized the dire nature of your condition and rushed to meet him calling for the healers swiftly. Legolas’s arms relinquished you with a reluctance that was palpable. His hands lingering until the last possible moment as he handed you over to their care.

Watching the guards swiftly carry you away Legolas could only stand there for a moment, alone and suddenly bereft. The depth of his emotions swirling chaotically within. Hold on, please hold on, he thought. His heart echoing each word of encouragement he had given you. Now a silent mantra for the both of you.

In the somber halls of the Mirkwood palace, Thranduil arrived, drawn by the urgent whispers of his guards about an incident involving his son and one of his most valued elves. As he entered his eyes found Legolas who stood alone. His posture betraying a mix of shock and despair rarely seen on the prince.

Approaching quietly Thranduil placed a hand on Legolas’s shoulder, his presence immediately steadying. "Legolas, tell me what has happened," he urged. His voice firm yet lined with concern.

Legolas's response was choked. A surge of emotions breaking through his usually composed demeanor. Turning to face his father, tears welled in his eye. It was a terribly rare sight that shook Thranduil to his core. "She... she saved me," Legolas stammered. The words laced with pain and guilt. "An orc aimed a poisoned arrow at me, and she stepped in front. She took the hit herself. It should have been me, Father."

The king's eyes widened in horror as he processed the gravity of the situation. His mind racing with the implications of your selfless act. "Legolas," Thranduil said softly as he guided his son to sit beside him on a nearby bench, an effort to offer comfort amidst the cold stone surroundings. "You must not blame yourself for her bravery. She acted out of loyalty and courage. These are qualities that are to be honored, not lamented."

Legolas wiped at his eyes, struggling to compose himself. "But I love her, Father. And now, I might lose her because I could not protect her," he confessed. The words tumbling out amidst sobs. The admission of his feelings which were spoken aloud for the first time seemed to both relieve and burden him further.

Thranduil was taken aback by the depth of his son’s emotions. He reached out, his own composure tinged with empathy. "My son, love is both a strength and a vulnerability. You must hold onto the hope that she will recover. And should she wake, it is your duty—and your right—to tell her of your feelings."

The king stood, resolute. "I will speak with the healers to ensure that everything possible is being done," he promised. Returning his attention to Legolas, he added, "Stay strong, Legolas. She fought to save you. Now you must be strong for her."

Thranduil placed a reassuring hand on Legolas's shoulder. His gaze intense and commanding. "There is something you can do, Legolas. Go to her," he instructed firmly. "The healers say that even in unconsciousness the presence of someone familiar may be felt. Your presence could provide the strength she needs to fight this poison."

Legolas looked at his father. The determination in Thranduil's voice sparking a flicker of hope within him. "Talk to her, hold her hand, let her feel your presence. Keep her grounded to this world. Your voice, your touch… it may reach her when our medicine cannot."

Rising from the bench with renewed purpose Legolas nodded solemnly. "I will not leave her side," he vowed. The resolve in his voice masking the tremor of his underlying fear.

Thranduil watched as his son strode towards the healers quarters. His posture that of a prince, yet driven by the raw, powerful emotions of an elf in love. "She saved you for a reason, Legolas. Now, give her a reason to return," Thranduil murmured to himself as he watched Legolas disappear behind the delicate curtains that shrouded the healing chambers.

Inside, Legolas approached your side with his heart pounding as he took in your serene yet pained expression. Gingerly, he took your hand in his. The coolness of your skin against his warm palm stirring a mix of emotions within him. Sitting beside you he began to speak his voice soft but clear threading through the quiet hum of the healing ward.

"I'm here just like you've always been there for me. Remember the storms we weathered together? The quiet moments we shared under the stars of our beautiful Mirkwood? Hold onto those memories now as I hold onto your hand. You must come back to us, to me," Legolas whispered. His words a tender plea laced with strength and love.

As he continued to speak he recounted tales of their past adventures and shared dreams. Legolas's presence became a silent, steadfast hope, anchoring you in the fight against the darkness that threatened to claim you.

"Remember the time we chased the fireflies at dusk?" Legolas continued. His voice a soft murmur meant only for you. "We wandered so far that night we almost missed the evening banquet. Your laughter echoed through the woods, brighter even than the lights we chased. I think that was the moment I realized how dear you were to me though I never had the courage to say it. I wish I said it."

He paused. His thumb gently stroking the back of your hand, each memory a pull trying to guide you back. "And then there was the storm. The one that caught us off guard near the northern border. We took shelter under that old oak. The one that's stood for a thousand years. You were so calm, so brave, even as the thunder roared around us. It was more than bravery. It was a peace within you that even the storm couldn't disturb. I truly fell in love with you then."

His voice grew softer, each word laden with emotion. "I've always admired that about you—your strength, your serenity. It's been a constant source of comfort to me, more often than you know." A sigh escaped him, a mixture of admiration and deep-seated fear. "I need that strength now, more than ever. You have to fight through this. I... I can't envision a world without you in it mellon vaer nîn, meleth nîn." He whispered to you.

Legolas's gaze lingered on your face. His eyes tracing the familiar features as if trying to imprint them deeper into his memory. "There are so many things I still want to share with you. The sunrise over the Silverlode. Quiet mornings in the glades. So many adventures yet to be had. I need you to come back to me."

As he continued to speak recalling tales of their past his voice became your lifeline, tethered to the hope of your recovery. With each story he tried to weave you back to consciousness. To draw you away from the shadows that clung too closely.

Hours passed, a silent vigil marked only by the rhythm of his voice and the faint but steady beat of your heart. It was during one such tale as Legolas recounted a particularly daring escapade from their youth that he felt a gentle squeeze on his hand. It was slight, nearly imperceptible, but to Legolas, it was as profound as the sun breaking through a week of rain.

His heart leapt and his words faltered for a moment. "Are you there? Can you hear me?" he asked. His voice a blend of hope and urgency. When there was no further response he settled back with a small, hopeful smile touching his lips. "I'll keep talking… just keep listening. You're not alone." Legolas's resolve hardened, bolstered by the faint sign of your fighting spirit. He continued to talk. Each word a pledge of his presence and protection. His stories a bridge carrying you back from the brink.

The healing ward was bathed in the soft, ethereal light of dawn filtering through the high windows. Legolas sat steadfast by your side with his hand still holding yours as a silent anchor in the hushed space. He continued to speak with his voice a soft, continuous presence in the hushed space continuously recounting tales, and shared dreams. He was weaving a tapestry of memories meant to guide you back.

As he recounted a particularly fond memory of a midsummer festival where you both had danced under the stars until the world seemed nothing more than a swirl of lights and laughter your eyelids began to flutter. It was a slight movement but enough to pause the flow of his words.

Your eyes slowly opened as they adjusted to the dim light of the room, focusing with effort on the figure who had not left your side. Legolas watched you carefully. His breath held in a mixture of hope and anxiety. Seeing your eyes finally meet his, a wave of relief and joy washed over him, though he tempered his reaction. The last thing he wanted was to overwhelm you.

"You're awake," he said softly. His voice a mix of wonder and warmth, his grip on your hand tightening gently.

You managed a weak smile. Your voice barely a whisper but filled with gratitude and warmth. "Legolas..." you breathed, your eyes locking onto his conveying everything you felt but couldn't yet say.

He leaned closer with his forehead nearly touching yours. His eyes were bright with emotion. "You are home," he whispered as his voice trembled slightly. "You're here with me. That is all that matters."

You nodded weakly, your smile widening just a bit. "Home," you agreed softly, the word holding so much more than its simple meaning. It was a promise, a recognition of the bond that had brought you back from the brink.

Legolas brushed a stray lock of hair from your forehead. His touch ever so gentle and reverent. "I was so afraid of losing you," he confessed, his voice barely above a whisper. "Your bravery, your sacrifice... I cannot bear the thought of a world without you in it."

Your hand squeezed his lightly. A small gesture but one that conveyed strength and reassurance. "I'm here," you whispered back, the effort taxing but necessary. "And I'm not going anywhere."

"We have so much more to see together. So many more memories to share," Legolas continued with a smile playing on his lips. "I promise from now on every moment will be a testament to the life you fought so hard to return to."

Your smile widened a bit more, your energy still faint but growing with every moment of connection. "I wouldn’t miss it for the world," you replied. Your voice was stronger this time, filled with the promise of many tomorrows.

In that quiet evening with the last light painting the world in hues of pink and gold, Legolas and you shared a moment of profound gratitude and love. A bond deepened by trials and now unbreakable by anything that the future might hold.

As your strength slowly returned Legolas took you to a secluded glade one evening. A hidden sanctuary where the world's concerns seemed to dissolve under the brilliance of the starlit sky. The air was cool and carried the sweet scent of blooming night flowers. You both settled on a soft blanket surrounded by the tranquil whisper of the forest.

Looking up at the stars Legolas turned toward you, his blue eyes reflecting the celestial light. He took a deep breath as if preparing to share something significant, and then began to speak. His voice soft yet clear. "I've spent many nights under these stars," he said, "but none felt as profound as tonight, being here with you." He paused giving you a moment to absorb the words. "When you were hurt, when I thought I might lose you, I realized something vital. Just how much you mean to me, how deeply I care about you."

Your heart fluttered with a mixture of surprise and joy. The sincerity in his voice and the earnest look in his eyes it was all you had ever hoped for yet never dared to expect. "Legolas, I...," you started your emotions thickening your voice. "I've felt the same way for a long time. But I never thought—"

"That we might have a future together?" Legolas interjected gently. "I know. I've been a fool, letting time pass without speaking my heart. But I don't want to hide my feelings anymore. I love you. More than I can say."

Tears welled in your eyes but not from sadness but from a profound relief and happiness. "I love you too," you replied. Your voice a soft echo of his own declaration. "I always have."

Legolas reached out, brushing a tear from your cheek with a gentle touch. "Then let us make a promise tonight," he suggested. His gaze locked with yours, "to never hold back our feelings. To cherish each moment, we have together and to face whatever comes with unity and strength."

You nodded, feeling the weight and warmth of his hand in yours. "I promise," you said. "To all of that."

The night deepened around you, but in the glade, illuminated by starlight, a new chapter of your life together began. It was a promise made not just in words but in the shared glances, the gentle touches, and the quiet commitment to face life's complexities together. With Legolas by your side the future seemed not just a path to walk but a journey to cherish.

The next morning, with the promise of the previous night still fresh and luminous like the dawn Legolas sought his father in the tranquil palace gardens. Dappled sunlight filtered through the ancient trees casting golden patterns on the mossy floor.

"Father," Legolas began with his voice carrying a newfound confidence mixed with joy, "last night under the stars, Y/N and I made a promise. I wish to ask her to let me court her with the intention of marriage."

Thranduil paused with his gaze piercing as he turned to face his son. For a moment his expression was unreadable. Then, a wide, genuine smile transformed his face. "Finally," he exclaimed with a rare chuckle. "You have truly found your path, my son. It is about time."

Legolas smiled, a weight lifting from his shoulders with his father's blessing. Bolstered by this support he planned a special moment to formally begin the courtship. He chose a small, exquisite pendant shaped like a star. An echo of the night that had sealed your shared destiny.

Later that day as you stood in the lush Mirkwood gardens Legolas approached you. The late afternoon sun lit the clearing casting long shadows and bathing everything in a warm, golden glow. In his hand he held the delicate star-shaped pendant which sparkled as it caught the light.

"Y/N," he said gently, drawing your attention. His hand extended offering the pendant to you. "Last night, under the starlight, we promised to face whatever comes together. With all my heart, I ask you now, will you let me court you with the hope and intention that one day you will be my wife?"

The moment was overwhelming. More tears sprang to your eyes as the magnitude of what this meant filled you. You had loved Legolas for so long, sometimes fearing your affection was a solitary flame. Now hearing his heartfelt words, confirming that he felt the same, was a relief so profound that sobs of joy escaped you.

"Yes, Legolas," you managed to say between gentle sobs. Your voice thick with emotion as you reached out to take the pendant. "Yes, of course I will."

Legolas stepped closer. His eyes shining with the same emotion. He took the pendant and carefully clasped it around your neck. He cupped your face in his hands wiping away your tears with his thumbs.

"This is just the beginning meleth nîn," he whispered. His voice as tender as the touch of the evening breeze. "A promise of a lifetime together, filled with love and understanding."

In that enchanted moment with the beauty of Mirkwood surrounding you and the promise of a future together everything felt utterly perfect. The garden seemed to hold its breath, the leaves whispering in the wind, as if nature itself was acknowledging the depth of your bond. The journey ahead would indeed have challenges but with the strength of your love you knew you could face them with him.

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yan-lorkai · 5 days

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.⁠｡⁠*⁠♡ A/N: Aaa back to my origins, I missed writing for Chrollo, he is such an interesting character with some many layers to peel off. Got inspired to write this after doing a lesson for my course where me and my group were discussing about the meaning of life and, y'know, philosophical questions like this would get Chrollo debating for hours just so he could understand his darling opinions.

The room was dimly lit, the only light source was a flickering candle on a worn-out table - the room Chrollo rented this time left to be desired, quaint, old. Shadows danced along the cracked walls, creating an atmosphere that was both claustrophobic and eerie. And you were almost certain that you saw a roach running somewhere. You hated here.

Most of all, you hated him.

Chrollo's dark eyes bore into yours, the intensity of his gaze sending even more chills down your spine. The air as always was thick with tension, one could not have a simple conversation with someone like him im peace.

He leaned forward, his shadows swallowing the light as he let his book rest on the table before turning to look at you again. You could almost see the gears turning on his head. Chrollo was calm and composed but there was something deeply unsettling about him — an aura of danger that lingered just beneath the surface.

Maybe it was his eyes. His very beautiful, mesmerizing eyes that were so similar to two black holes devouring and tainting anything they fell upon. He rested his chin on his hand, the faintest hint of a smile playing on his lips as he observed you, as he searched through your soul for something only he knew about.

"Entertain me, dear," Chrollo began, his voice smooth, almost gentle, yet laced with a sinister undertone, drumming his fingers against his leg, "What do you think is the meaning of life?"

The question hung in the air, heavy and loaded. You hesitated, knowing that your answer could shape the course of this conversation. He liked doing that; giving you something to think about to mold you into who he thinks you should be. Chrollo was unpredictable, his mind a labyrinth of thoughts and intentions that were impossible to decipher, yet you were learning how to read his mannerisms.

If he could read you like an open book, then you should learn and do the same to him. Two can play this game.

He was a man who could kill without remorse, who was used to steal and take without feeling nothing for the victims, even then here he was, asking you to ponder something as profound as the meaning of life. You bite the inside of your cheek, trying not to curse him; the man who took you from your old life.

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart. "I think the meaning of life is… To find s purpose. To create something that gives our existence meaning, whether it's love, art, or even just surviving the challenges we face. Don't you think?"

Chrollo's smile widened, though it didn't reach his eyes. "Purpose, you say? Interesting." He leaned back, crossing his arms as he considered your words. "But what if your purpose is tied to destruction, to chaos because the world failed you? Can that be considered a valid purpose?"

The question sent a shiver down your spine. You knew what he was getting at. Chrollo's life was one of bloodshed and mayhem, his purpose seemingly intertwined with the suffering of others. The thought of justifying such a life made your stomach churn, but you couldn't afford to show weakness.

Sometimes, you mused, Chrollo must think of you like a butterfly strapped to his table while he dissected you.

Or that's how you felt.

"Purpose is subjective," You replied carefully, your voice steady despite the unease creeping through you. "Some might find meaning in creation, others in destruction. But I believe it ultimately comes down to how we perceive our actions and the impact they have on the world around us."

Chrollo's eyes narrowed, the intensity of his gaze becoming almost unbearable. "And what about you?" He asked, his voice soft but deadly serious. "What is your purpose? What meaning do you find in your life?"

The room seemed to close in around you, the air growing colder, more oppressive. You could feel the weight of Chrollo's expectations pressing down on you, as if he was daring you to give the wrong answer. Your mind raced, searching for the right words, the right response that would satisfy him.

"My purpose..." You began, letting your eyes fall to your folded hands. You didn't have one, not anymore at least, he stole that and any chance that you could find it. "My purpose is to live. To experience everything life has to offer, the good and the bad. To find my own path, whatever that may be."

My purpose is to survive you, to kill you. But not yet, dear. You concluded mentally, imitating his tone.

Chrollo studied you in silence, his expression unreadable. The tension in the room was almost suffocating, the silence stretching out until it felt like it would never end. Then, slowly, he nodded, as if accepting your answer — though you couldn't tell if he was satisfied or merely amused.

"An admirable sentiment," He said finally, though his tone was laced with a special kind of amusement. "But remember, the path you choose may not always be under your control, life has a way of steering us in directions we never expected. I'm certain you're quite familiar with this."

Chrollo was a man who thrived on control, on manipulating the lives of others to suit his own ends. It annoyed you greatly that he liked to pour salt over the wound, teasing you about your current predicament.

This time you didn't look away. You held his gaze, refusing to let him see the fear that threatened to consume you. If you were going to survive him, you needed to be strong, to show him that you weren't just another victim.

"I suppose that's true," You replied, forcing a small smile. "But I also believe we have the power to shape our own future, to defy and erase certain aspects of it."

Chrollo's eyes gleamed with a dark amusement, and for a moment, you thought you saw something dangerous flicker in his expression. "Perhaps," He nodded, his voice low and almost mocking. "But remember, in the end, the meaning of life may be nothing more than what we make of it… Or what someone else makes it for us."

The conversation ended with those words, the tension in the room slowly dissipating but leaving behind an unsettling feeling that lingered in your chest. Chrollo rose from his seat, his movements graceful and deliberate. He gave you one last, lingering look before turning to leave, his presence as haunting as ever.

"I'll buy us something to eat, behave yourself in the meantime."

As the door closed behind him, you were left alone with your thoughts, the candle's flame flickering weakly in the darkness. The meaning of life, what did it matter in a world where someone like Chrollo Lucilfer existed, where lives were manipulated and discarded without a second thought?

You couldn't shake the feeling that, in his own twisted way, Chrollo had found his meaning right here and now.

And if he did, if he found his meaning, you didn't want to know what it was.

#yandere chrollo #yandere chrollo lucilfer #yandere chrollo x reader #yandere chrollo x y/n #yandere chrollo x you #yandere chrollo lucilfer x reader #yandere chrollo lucilfer x y/n #yandere chrollo lucilfer x you #chrollo x reader #chrollo x you #chrollo x y/n #chrollo lucilfer #hxh chrollo #chrollo hunter x hunter #tw yandere #lorkai imagine

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chrollosbm · 9 months

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Sunflower Fields: a Choso Love Story Chapter Twelve

art cr: umbra3terna on x

You're broken from a past relationship, thinking you only deserve the worst. Choso comes along, making you realize you deserve the world and more. Will your ex-boyfriend let you go without a fight? (Choso x black!reader, yandere Choso)

Previous Chapters

pls support me on ao3, it would mean the world to me!

You woke up annoyed to a knock on your bedroom door, and you attempted to ignore it, wanting to get more rest. You weren’t sure what time it was, but the sunlight coming into your room was basically blinding. All you wanted to do was crawl under the covers and get more sleep with last night’s events keeping you up in curiosity.

After coming to your senses about the situation between Choso and Suguru, you of course ran to Choso to figure out what the hell went down. In all honesty, you didn’t care at all for your ex-boyfriend’s well-being, even if he was on the ground gushing blood. He was alive and coherent, which was enough for you.

“Choso…what the fuck?” The smile that was on your face was long gone by now, your body movements stiff as you charged over to him. His grin remained though, eyes sinister as his body on the other hand language was surprisingly laxed, clearly not seeing the severity of the situation. His calmness was slightly eerie, causing a stir in your stomach, but you wrote it off as him still being in shock, trying to convince yourself he wasn’t some crazed psychopath who got off on inflicting harm to others. Violence didn’t scare you, but when it was unnecessary, it just plain bothered you. You knew that Choso and Suguru’s fight had to be over you, in your head, it couldn’t have just been a coincidence that two men you’d dated had a random bar fight, so you knew it wasn’t a useless brawl.

Blood was trailing down the corner of his red stained mouth and you used your thumb to attempt to clean a bit of it off, scoffing in the process, and he let you, eyes softening at your gesture. He grabbed your hand shortly after you were finished and pulled you closer, bloody hands finding your waist, with you not caring that it was ruining your outfit.

“Sorry, I seemed to have run into someone from your past and couldn’t stop myself from bashing his smug face in.” His features hardened again as his dark eyes squinted, veins in his neck tightening as he looked at Suguru who was now being lifted off the ground by the security guard, being shooed away as he yelled vulgar obscenities about the altercation that just took place. It was hard to ignore the insults he was throwing out at Choso, your own eyes peering as he called him a “downgrade.” It took everything in you not to throw in your own jabs at the man talking endless shit, but you decided he’d probably taken enough of a beating tonight. You still had somewhat of a heart. Plus, you had nothing to prove to him, Choso was in a totally different league than Suguru, far better in every department.

You didn’t notice you were shaking until Choso grabbed your waist tighter, his brows furrowing at you. His eyes were panicked when you looked at him before he spoke. “Baby, did I scare you?” He stammered. “I didn’t mean to frighten you-I didn’t think you would have to witness this side of me, I just-”

You cut him off with a small and quick kiss, his puffy lips tasting metallic as yours touched his, your shaking seeming to seize almost immediately. “Don’t be.” Your voice came out soft, wanting to make sure what you were saying was of the most sincerity. “I don’t know what happened-I don’t even think I want to know. I had a horrible night and coming out to see you beating my cheating ex-boyfriend to a pulp brought me more joy than a fucking kid on Christmas morning.” You beamed at him, all teeth showing as you placed your hands on his chest, his fast beating heart seeming to slow as each word came from your mouth.

He ran one of his dried blood stained hands through his hair, unintentionally taking out the other loose bun in his head, and let out a large sigh he seemed to be holding in, before smiling down at you, toothy as well. “Who knew you were such a sadist?” He laughed, that innocent glimmer back in his chocolate eyes. The atmosphere seemed less tense then, with Suguru’s shouts silencing as he was finally removed from the area by the brunette woman he was accompanied by.

A louder knock snapped you out of your thoughts, along with a familiar, even louder voice. “I know you heard me! You have five seconds to answer before I burst in there.” Your older sister’s noisy voice blared through your closed door and you sat up, defeated, before shouting back at her to enter already. She came in immediately after the words left your lips, your younger sister trailing behind her with a scowl on her face, immediately shielding herself from the sun shining through your windows.

“God, ever heard of blackout curtains? It’s like you live right next to the sun or some shit.” Opal complained, before face planting on your bed, bumping you roughly in the process, making you scowl at the back of her head. “My head is killing me, I’m literally never drinking again.” Her voice was muffled in your sheets as she let out a loud groan.

You rolled your eyes, laughing at her pain in the process. That’s what she gets for drinking more than she could handle. “You can follow through with that after tonight. I’m invoking my birthday privileges for you to party with your older sister one last night.” You crossed your legs under the blanket, a smug smirk on your face.

Valerie lips tugged as well as she leaned her head on your doorframe, and to your surprise nodded in agreement. “Yeah, baby sis. You can’t punk out the last night. It’s not like you don’t get this drunk or worse while you’re away at university.” You were shocked she was also trying to convince your younger sister, with her being the responsible one and all, but you didn’t question it, as you knew this was definitely a one time thing.

You nodded vigorously, cosigning her statement as Opal lifted her head momentarily to flip the both of you off. “Whatever.” She replied. “I’m going to need a nap though. A long one.” She turned her body towards the wall, signifying she meant right this moment, and you giggled before turning back towards Valerie, whose face was suddenly reading concern.

“What?” You asked at her demeanor change, knowing her all too well. She could never hide her facial expressions, you were a lot like her in that way.

Her body tensed slightly, before walking over to your bed, and basically sat on you, prompting you to move your body so she could lie down, forcing you between your two sisters, one who seemed to already be sleeping soundly.

“We need to talk about last night.” She insisted, and you cringed inwardly, knowing this moment was coming.

“About?” You asked, feigning cluelessness, not wanting to have this conversation whatsoever.

“About Choso.” Her words were stressed and your face scrunched at her sudden change of tone. It reminded you of when you were younger and had to get a rare scolding from her, it was a “motherly” voice she put on, showing you that what she had to say was going to be of significant importance.

You looked down from her then, suddenly feeling too small to look her in her eyes before she continued when you didn’t respond.

“Sweetheart, I know you like him and he does seem to treat you well, but that fight last night? You know that was unacceptable.” She let out a sigh and folded her arms over the comforter before continuing. “Granted, Suguru probably deserved it, but did you even ask the details of what happened? How it started?”

To be completely honest, you didn’t have the answers to her questions. You didn’t even know why the two of them were near the club to begin with. You figured you didn’t want to know any of the details before, but Valerie’s inquisitions were making you rethink things, making you crave the answers now. There was another part of you though, that believed ignorance was bliss, with you content in the birdseye view that Suguru had gotten a well-deserved ass whooping for breaking your heart. There was definitely not a nagging feeling inside you that Choso played a part in this situation, with you also wondering what the hell he was doing there in the first place. It didn’t take you long to shake your head at your sister’s inquiry and your thoughts that seemed to take a turn, in which she let out another sad sigh.

“Please just be careful, sis. You seem to attract these crazed, obsessive men and-”

You quickly cut her off, suddenly offended by her words in insulting Choso. “Choso is not crazy or obsessive. He’s someone I care about immensely and has done nothing but protect me from the actual insane man within this whole equation.” Your head shot up as you spoke, words and eyes seemingly piercing through your older sister. She can say what she wants about Suguru, with both Valerie and Opal at the receiving end of your endless cries and breakdowns from each time the two of you had a fight or broken up, but hearing any sort of criticism on Choso was where you drew the line. He hadn’t been the one stomping on your heart, inciting fear in you, that had been Suguru.

Her eyes softened suddenly, making you feel a pang of guilt at your unexpected outburst. “I wasn’t saying he was crazy or obsessive, I was just saying you tend to attract these sorts of men for some awful reason. I’m just warning you to tread lightly.” Her hand grabbed yours before giving a small squeeze. “I don’t want you to end up hurt again. You have no idea the agony I felt knowing you were hurting everyday for two years because of that cheating asshole.”

Your heart swelled at her words, really feeling like shit for snapping on her now, as she was only trying to help. Your older sister had always been protective over you, she had to be with your parents up and disappearing, making her fight to keep the three of you together as you hopped from one foster home to another. She had fought for custody at such a young age, taking on the burden of raising two children with only one income, working herself silly. She was your superwoman, there to shield you from harm and defend you from anything thrown your way.

You squeezed her hand in return, before reaching over to give her a complicated side hug, due to your uncomfortable position in bed. “I’m sorry. I know you’re just trying to protect me.” You said into the hug with sincerity, prompting her to press her body against yours tighter.

“Don’t worry about it. He does seem like a nice guy for what it’s worth.” The two of you pulled away and she was smiling, her grin almost identical to yours, along with that twinkle in her eyes. “Plus, it is kind of romantic that he beat your ex-boyfriend’s butt for you.” She giggled and you laughed in return before sitting back on your headboard with a small sigh and a smile.

Last night, before your Uber could arrive, Choso basically forced you and your sisters to cancel the ride, insisting on driving you home instead. You had tried to decline, claiming he was in no mental state to drive, but he’d easily convinced you otherwise, with that domineering tone in his voice claiming that he wasn’t taking no for an answer, anyway, making you heed to his orders.

This prompted a slightly awkward introduction of your small family to the man you were currently seeing.

“Uh…well, this is Choso.” You introduced him to your sisters with a small voice in a ‘ta-da’ motion, when Valerie and Opal (by the grace of God,) stumbled across the street, identical worried looks on their features, brows furrowed and mouths twisted into frowns.

Choso rubbed the back of his neck, sporting a small smile before you continued.

“Choso, these are my sisters I told you about, Valerie and Opal.” You pointed to your siblings as you said their names and Valerie gave him a blank look in return, obviously not liking her first impression of him, and you couldn’t blame her, he’d just been in a pretty bloody altercation.

Your younger sister on the other hand, had a mouthful to say. “Jesus, sis! You didn’t tell us he was fucking hot.” She slurred and your cheeks warmed, eyes widening as well before she continued. “I mean, you did say he was hot, but fuck-”

“That’s enough.” Valerie cut in before linking her arm with your younger sibling, who was currently protesting, claiming she did nothing wrong. She was ignored though, before your older sister spoke again with conviction. “If you’re gonna give us a ride, do it now please so we can get her to bed.”

Opal’s scoffs and objections were loud as you turned to Choso whose cheeks were red as he looked at you with an unreadable look in his eyes. Your eyes pleaded with his and he quickly nodded, understanding you without words, before clearing his throat. “Yeah, of course. Let me lead you to where I parked.”

The car ride back wasn’t too awkward, with Opal’s excessive babbling about the security guard who you’d soon learned name was Ino. Apparently, they were the same age and she had gotten his number, claiming she was already “in love.” That earned her a scolding from both you and Valerie, with Choso listening in, letting out small chuckles and hand squeezes to yours every now and then.

“Yeah, he’s a sweetheart.” You’d said softly with a yawn, suddenly tired and wanting to catch up on some rest just as Opal had the brilliant idea of doing. It wasn’t long before you fell into a deep slumber, your lifelines on either side of you as warmth.

It was evening when you’d finished getting ready. Apparently, you, your sisters, and Andrea were all going out to dinner as part of your birthday celebration. The three of you had to pick her up from her apartment first, Andrea claiming it was smart to just go in one car instead of two and she was right, of course, since you were all going to the same place, anyway.

You looked in the mirror, admiring yourself. You had on a brown, thick, long sleeve fitted dress that reached your mid-thigh that you paired with sheer, barely visible stockings and your prized cream colored pair of red bottoms that Valerie bought you a few Christmases ago. Your dark hair was curled down your back, thanks to Valerie’s hairstyling skills. Opal did your makeup, giving you a light face beat, accentuating your natural beauty.

“You ready to go?” Your oldest sibling said from the corner of the room, dressed modestly compared to you, wearing all black again.

“Ready!” you blurted out, as you grabbed your small, cream colored arm purse, before leading them out of your mess of a bedroom, makeup and hair products everywhere, that you would deal with later.

The three of you pulled up to Andrea and Kento’s apartment and you were confused from the passenger seat as Valerie took the key out of the ignition. “I thought we were just picking her up?” You’d questioned, squinting your eyes between your siblings who were sporting poker faces.

A flamboyantly dressed Opal responded too quickly for your liking, that squint in your eyes never faltering. “She said there’s a gift for you to pick up first, then we’ll be on our way!” She jumped out the backseat and yelled “Come on!” at you when you didn’t immediately get out after her.

“I’m coming, jeez.” You rolled your eyes and stepped out of your older sister’s car, still silently questioning what was going on. They seemed rushed earlier in the day after your nap, forcing you in the shower while basically glued to their cellphones. You’d brushed it off earlier, not caring much as you were getting ready for the night anyway, but now you were wondering what all that was about now.

You pulled out the key to your best friend’s place as you walked towards the Nanami’s residence. She’d also had a set for your apartment, and while the two of you rarely used them, it was useful now. You stepped up to unlock her apartment door and your sisters trailed behind you silently. You opened the door to a completely dark room, causing you to look around in said darkness, confusion written on your features.

“The fuck…” You started as you walked inside, attempting to look for the light switch, when a flicker of a light and a loud “Surprise!” came out of nowhere, causing you to basically jump out your skin.

Your eyebrows were raised as you looked around the room to see it was full of people, balloons, and happy birthday decorations. You saw familiar faces from work and your university smiling at you, causing your heart to swell at the sight. They all came for you? You’d figured you didn’t have many friends anymore, with you falling off the face of the earth when you were involved in that previous toxic relationship of yours.

Your eyes were searching for a certain face in particular, when Andrea ran up, beaming at you with a loud squeal, and gave you a huge hug, making you almost fall down in the process. You laughed and the smile widened on your face. “Happy birthday, bitch!” She yelled in your face as you pulled away from the hug, eyes lit up like the sun, so grateful it was making you forget you were supposed to be upset with her for leaving the previous night.

Kento was beside her smiling, and soon gave you a small, awkward hug. “Happy birthday.” He spoke curtly and politely, in which you gave him a thank you with a big grin. You were thankful for him as well, for last night and for this party he played a part in as well.

It didn’t take long for you to start making your rounds around the large living room, making conversation with everyone and catching up, being sure to thank them for coming in the process. It was good to catch up with everyone, with it all feeling so natural as you talked to each and every one of your old friends.

It wasn’t long before Andrea was at your side, linking her arm through yours. You looked at her with raw emotion as tears blurred your vision. “Did you do all of this?”

She gave you a smile. “As much as I want to take all the credit, it wasn’t just me.” Andrea joked and you let out a small giggle. “Your sisters helped too.” You looked over at your siblings and they were currently in the kitchen, playing a drinking game with some of your old university friends. Your heart warmed as the tears threatened to fall from your eyes.

“You better not start crying, your makeup looks too damn good for that!” Andrea all but shouted. “I have one more surprise for you.” Your brows furrowed as she pointed to her balcony. “There’s one more surprise for you out there. I’ll let you go get it yourself.” She smirked at you, then let your arm go. Before you could respond, she walked away quickly and joined whatever drinking game everyone was playing.

You walked towards their large balcony, heart hammering in your chest at what you already knew was behind those doors.

As soon as you opened the balcony doors, you were greeted by the cool air, along with endless vases of yellow sunflowers covering the ground. There seemed to be an incredible number of them, as there was only a small walkway free from the plants that led to Choso, who was currently sitting down on one of the lawn chairs, seemingly unaware that you’d entered his vicinity. Your heart raced at the scene before you, with all the blood seemingly rushing to your head, causing your face to feel hot despite the cold weather. Those tears you were holding in were set free, with a couple falling in which you dabbed away quickly with the back of your hand as a small sniff left your body.

His eyes snapped towards yours, seeming to hear your sniffles and he stood to his feet immediately. Your eyes caught his concerned ones and you smiled widely at the sight of the handsome man, with his hair down in a dark beanie, and he was sporting a silver chain and his bright earrings. He was dressed in all black, with a thick black jacket over a t-shirt with baggy jeans and Doc Martens on his feet.

Choso all but ran over to you and immediately enveloped you in a kiss with his soft lips. His arms wrapped around your entire body, warming you up. You were giggling from the rough and urgent kiss he was giving you as you felt him smile back into the kiss, not letting you go. “You’re crying, but you’re laughing.” He stated as a question when he pulled away, not helping your chuckles.

“I’m crying because I’m happy.” You let out and he let out a breath of relief he seemed to be holding in.

“Okay, good. I thought you didn’t like it for some reason.” He tilted his head down at you, before swiping away a tear that threatened to roll down your face, giving you a small closed-lipped smile.

You shook your head at his ridiculous assumption, looking into his pools of darkness that seemed to twinkle like stars in the night. “I love it.”

His smile remained at your response, as he placed a soft kiss on your cheek, before leading you to the chair on the corner of the large balcony, the only other place not covered by flowers. He sat first before placing you onto his lap sideways, his strong thighs holding you up with ease as he burned holes into you, taking you in.

“You look fucking ravishing.” He breathed out, sincerity on his face. “Fucking stunning, beautiful, perfect, angelic.” He looked you up and down, taking a long time to admire you completely, causing your organs to stir and feel hot as his dark eyes scanned you, not missing a single detail. “I’m so lucky.” He continued, before those dark orbs looked back into yours, a small smile playing on his lips.

Your cheeks were burning at this point, all self-consciousness thrown off the balcony as each compliment left his perfect pink lips. “Thank you, Choso.” You beamed, before wrapping your arms around his neck and resting your head on his chest, feeling his rapid heartbeat that sped up as you held him tighter.

You gave a shiver, suddenly remembering how cold it was outside in the night, before Choso took off his jacket and put it over your shoulders, before wrapping his large arms around your waist, warming your heart at his gentlemen-like gesture.

“I have something to ask you.” His deep voice suddenly rumbled against the side of your head, causing you to lift your head to look up at the man who spoke, a red blush on his cheeks as nervous his eyes peered into yours, before continuing. “Will you be my girlfriend, sunflower? Please?”

Your eyebrows lifted at the question, heart hammering out your chest like a comedy TV show character. You? Choso Kamo’s girlfriend? As unhinged as you were, this kind, patient, incredible man wanted you to be his? You felt like you were in a dream and you had to refrain from pinching yourself as that probably wouldn't be socially acceptable in this situation. Dream or not, you were definitely going to say yes.

“Choso…” You started, water swelling in your orbs again as your lip began quivering. The poor man’s face read shock again, as if he hadn’t grown accustomed to your tears of emotion already, causing you to smile and let out a small laugh before continuing. “Of course I will."

His shoulders relaxed then, a wide smile growing on that beautiful face, his beautiful birthmark scrunching on his nose and eyes crinkling. His soft lips were placed on yours shortly after, moving ferociously against yours, you tasting the saltiness of the tears that had rolled down your face against your will. You felt warm as he enveloped you as if he would never let you go, seemingly afraid you would run away from his embrace, which you never would.

He was yours forever, whether he liked it or not.

Chapter Thirteen is Posted

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tinytinyblogs · 2 months

Text

Where do you think you're going, darling?

Running away doesn't seem like a good idea, because in the end, they will always come after you.

⚠️ Yandere theme, unhealthy obsession, Kidnapped and a lot more ⚠️

ChanMin, BinHyun, HanLix, SeungIn

Stray Kids Masterlist

Your insights and reactions make these posts come alive. Love reblogs, comments, and all the good vibes welcome ✨

Seungmin

You were the one who, silently and accidentally, found the key. Even though you were too scared to make a move, knowing full well how crazy Seungmin could be, you clung to that key like it was your lifeline. Seungmin, in all his obsessive detail, had somehow missed it. One fateful day, when he was away and you had no clue where he'd gone, you trembled as you opened the door. Your hands shook violently, but you managed to slip out. You sprinted as if your life depended on it, your heart pounding so hard you thought it might burst from your chest. Every shadow seemed like him, every sound made you jump, the paranoia making your skin crawl and tears well up in your eyes. Hiding became your new existence. You spent your days outside, consumed by anxiety, always looking over your shoulder. Days blurred into nights, maybe a week, maybe more—you lost all sense of time. Somehow, amid the fear and chaos, you managed to find a sliver of calm. But just as you started to think you might be safe, your nightmare returned.

One day, you heard his voice behind you. It sent ice through your veins. You spun around, heart in your throat, and there he was, standing like a phantom conjured by your darkest fears. Before you could run, he was upon you. His grip was ironclad, even stronger than you remembered, squeezing the fight out of you. You opened your mouth to scream, but he silenced you with ruthless efficiency, and everything went black. When you woke up, you were back in the nightmare you thought you'd escaped. The room was the same, oppressive and cold, and you knew with a sinking heart that your freedom had been nothing but an illusion. As your senses returned, you felt a rough hand lift your chin, forcing you to meet his gaze. His eyes were voids of darkness, swallowing any hope you had left. "You've disappointed me perfectly, darling," he sneered, his voice dripping with venom. Each word was a dagger, sharp and precise. "I don't know what goes on in your stupid mind, but make no mistake, things are about to get very ugly." His face twisted into a sinister smile, a mockery of affection, as he tightened his grip.

The air around you seemed to thicken with menace. "You thought you could escape me? You thought you could outsmart me?" His voice rose, each sentence a crescendo of madness. "I have eyes everywhere, darling. You belong to me, and you will never get away." The room spun as fear gripped you, making it hard to breathe. His words hammered into your mind, the threat behind them unmistakable. You were trapped in a waking nightmare, and the darkness in his eyes promised only one thing: more suffering, more terror, more of his twisted love that bound you tighter than any chain ever could. Everything had limited access. No windows, and the door was always locked—perhaps only Seungmin knew the secret to opening it. The room was a barren wasteland of cold, hard floor, a single bed, and a solitary lamp casting eerie shadows. You were a hostage in a nightmarish limbo, with no clarity about how long this torment would last. Days blurred into nights, and time lost all meaning. Seungmin's control was absolute, and the uncertainty gnawed at your sanity.

Every sound outside the door made your heart race, every creak of the floorboards sent shivers down your spine. The walls seemed to close in on you, suffocating with the weight of your despair. You had no idea when—or if—this hell would end. Perhaps Seungmin would keep you there until he was satisfied that you knew your place, that you understood you belonged to him, and that you had surrendered every last shred of hope. His twisted desire for domination was a dark cloud that hung over you, relentless and suffocating. You could almost hear his voice in the silence, whispering that you were his, and there was no escape. As the days dragged on, the room became a prison of your mind as much as your body. The emptiness around you mirrored the growing void within, where hope once resided. You began to wonder if freedom was just a fleeting dream, something you would never taste again. Seungmin's sinister game had only one goal: to break you completely, to ensure that you gave up forever, resigning yourself to a life under his merciless control. And maybe after that time, one thing became crystal clear: he was capable of anything to keep you in his life. He always got whatever he wanted, and his obsession was singular—you.

Jeongin

In the labyrinth of Jeongin's mind, where reality intertwined with his whimsical fantasies, you found yourself entangled in a delicate dance of deception. Despite his facade of leniency, you longed for emancipation from the confines of his delusions. Each passing day was a delicate balance between feigning allegiance and plotting your escape from his whimsical grasp. Despite your earnest efforts to win his trust, fueled by his lavish offerings, your heart yearned for liberation from his conviction that you were hopelessly enamored with him. And so, with each sunrise, you meticulously orchestrated your plan for freedom, weaving intricate schemes to evade his watchful eye. Then, on that fateful day, as dawn kissed the horizon with hues of gold and amber, you executed your escape with a finesse bordering on madness. Slipping through the window like a shadow in the night, you descended into the abyss below, your heart pounding with exhilaration as you fled into the unknown.

As Jeongin stirred from his slumber, his first instinct was to seek solace in your embrace, only to be met with the chilling realization of your absence. With the window gaping wide and the echo of your footsteps fading into the distance, the once gentle and affable Jeongin was consumed by a darkness so profound, it seemed to swallow the very essence of his being. His smile, once sweet and inviting, twisted into a grimace of betrayal and fury, his eyes ablaze with a fervor that bordered on madness. In that moment, it was as if he had become a creature of the night, capable of unspeakable deeds in the name of vengeance. That day transformed into a wild chase, a relentless pursuit fueled by an almost primal need to capture you at any cost. It was as if he would face death itself if he failed to reclaim you. In his desperation, he reverted to a version of himself you hadn't seen in ages, a dark and twisted shadow of the man you thought you knew. The air crackled with tension as he prowled the shadows, consumed by a singular obsession—you.

It didn't take long for Jeongin to track you down, his determination burning bright in his eyes. "Running away, darling?" he sneered, the hurt and anger dripping from his voice like venom. He seized you with a ferocity that bordered on madness, his grip like steel as he dragged you back into his clutches, back to the suffocating confines of your prison. That night was a symphony of chaos and despair, a tempest of his pent-up fury and disappointment unleashed upon you. He demanded answers, demanded to know why you had dared to leave him, despite the lengths he had gone to in order to provide for you, to protect you. His words cut like knives, carving deep wounds into your already fragile resolve. And as your tears flowed like rivers, he forced you to swear an oath, a binding vow to remain by his side for all eternity, to forsake any notion of escape or freedom. It was a nightmarish ritual, a twisted dance of dominance and submission, where your cries of anguish were drowned out by the echoes of his hollow promises and the cold, unyielding walls of your prison.

He had grown indifferent to your tears; where once they might have softened his heart, now they were nothing more than a symphony of delight to his ears. With a chilling revelation, he unveiled the true demon lurking within, a darkness that had been restrained until now. Your tears, once a precious vulnerability he had held back from exploiting, now became his favorite melody, a twisted harmony that fueled his desires. All this time, he had restrained himself, reluctant to show his harsher side. But now, in response to your defiance, he embraced it eagerly, ready to unleash the full force of his power to remind you of your place, to show you who truly held control in this twisted dance of dominance and submission. His eyes glinted with a savage hunger as he reveled in your torment, savoring every moment of your anguish. It was a transformation so profound, so terrifying, that it left you trembling in fear. Yet, despite the terror that gripped you, there was a perverse fascination in witnessing the unveiling of his darker nature, like witnessing the rise of a malevolent deity from the depths of the underworld. And as he tightened his grip on your soul, he whispered words of domination, promising to mold you into his perfect possession, to erase any trace of independence until you existed only to fulfill his every whim.

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besamehyuka · 2 months

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Impatient

Warning: This contains smut, meaning it has "sex" or "Sexual actions" in it, if you're uncomfortable in reading it, simply click off.

Seonghwa x Fem Reader!

Contains: Mouth fucking, oral, dirty words

Seonghwa glanced around the room, reading your silence as obvious. He knew exactly why you were being this way, and he was going to tease you for the hell of it too.

It was a simple matter of his performance, and how delicious he looked on stage. His hair clinging to the sides of his face, obviously have been sweating too much. His white shirt, revealing all his muscles, and his waist. God, that beautiful slim waist.

You flushed bright red, wanting so desperately to place hickies all around it.

You knew if he came any closer, you'd pounce on him, but you stayed calm. Well, as far as what others could think. On the inside, you were fighting your own demons.

As Seonghwa approached you with long strides, he smirked, his eyes gleaming in the overhead lights. He was going to have fun with you, all right.

"Y/N." He stated, his voice now low and husky. Turning to tilt your face up with his palm. "You seem to be needing something darling"

You stumbled over your words, trying to remain calm and look as if you were unphased.

"I'm okay Hwa. I promise"

"Hmm, you made a promise in which I know to be false. Do you really want to be punished tonight?" He asked, ever so confidently, leaning down to suckle your neck.

You let out a soft gasp, tilting your head back at the feeling. "Hwa.. i wasn't-"

He cut you off as his giant hand reached around to wrap around your throat. "Don't lie to me, baby girl. You really think i didn't notice you eye fucking me?"

You let out a whimper, his dominance was always something else. You had never experienced this type of desire and it was getting more than you could handle.

"Please Hwa." You said, puppy eyes boring into his own brown orbs. With your plea he only laughed, a sinister eerie laugh.

"I would, but... take a look around darling. There are too many people around, and when I fuck you, i want to be the only one who hears you, got it?"

You nodded, biting your lower lip. "But Hwa! I need it!"

"Ah, so impatient little one." He chuckled, leaning in to ghost over your lips with his own. "You really are begging to get punished."

With that, he flips you over rubbing his hard erection on your ass, laughing at the soft sounds you make.

"You're so adorable when you try to be quiet. Knowing damn well If i put my cock inside you, you'd be screaming and begging for more."

His grip on your waist tightens, pulling you even closer. "get up, get on your knees, and please me you dirty slut."

With zero hesitation you plop on your knees, wanting nothing more than to please him. You fiddle with his belt, unbuckling it, and unzipping his pants with your teeth, his eyes never leaving the sight of you.

When you please Seonghwa, he always loved to see you, no matter what you looked like, he loved the sound of your gasp, he loved the sound of your wetness. He loved everything, and sex with Seonghwa was always legendary.

Once you got his member released, you sat back and licked his tip, rolling your lips over the sensitive bundle of nerves.

"Don't tease me Princess, i don't have much time left." He gritted out, tugging on your hair to thrust harshly inside your gaped mouth.

He threw his head back as you pumped him and worked your mouth up and down quickly, his tongue running out to coat his lips.

"Shit baby." He exclaimed, holding your head in place to thrust harshly inside, his hips bucking and stuttering a sign he was getting closer by the minute.

You took this as a sign to work aswell, hollowing out your cheeks and flattening your tongue, wanting nothing in the world but to pleasure him. You always wanted to make him feel good.

With a final harsh thrust, Seonghwa releases with a loud and deep groan, his hips stalling as he sucks in air.

"Damn, baby. i couldn't help myself." He chuckles, his once dark and vicious eyes are now round and wide.

You were always so stunned by his sudden switch ups, and you always wondered how this dominate force of a man, could always turn to such a sweet passionate lover.

Seonghwa was truly a mysterious individal.

As he patted your head and thanked you, he gripped your hand pulling you up. "I'll see you at home, and when I get home, you better be on all fours, naked on my bed. or else you'll get punished my love."

With that you rushed off to your shared house, waiting for the night to come.

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please-be-mine-forever · 2 months

Text

A plate of your affection (Vince x Rody)

A/N: This is a commissioned piece, if you wish to read or see my rates. You are free to message me on tumblr

T0T It's cheap, I swear!

A guttural sob tore from his throat, and he shoved the plate away with such force that it crashed to the floor, shattering into pieces. He pushed himself away from the table, stumbling to his feet, his breathing ragged and uneven.

“No! No, no, no!” The waiter cried, his voice rising to a fever pitch. He backed away from Vince, his eyes wide with horror and disbelief. “What did you do? What did you do, Vince?”

Vince straightened, his expression a mixture of frustration and impatience. “Calm down, Rody,” he said, taking a step forward.

But Rody couldn’t calm down. His mind was a whirlwind of fragmented thoughts and memories, all tainted by the realization of what his boss had done. He pressed his hands to his temples, shaking his head as if trying to shake off a nightmare.

“You’re insane!” The brunette screamed, his voice cracking with anguish. “This isn’t love! This is...this is monstrous!”

Tears streamed down his face as he continued to back away, his legs weak and unsteady. He stumbled, falling to his knees, his body wracked with uncontrollable sobs. The room seemed to close in on him, the walls pulsing with his frantic heartbeat.

Vince approached slowly, his expression getting more and more impatient. “Rody, listen. Everything I did, I did for us. For you.”

Rody looked up at him, his eyes red and swollen, his face contorted with grief. “For us? You think this is for us?” he choked out. “You killed her! You made me...you made me...”

His words dissolved into incoherent sobs, and he buried his face in his hands, rocking back and forth on the cold, hard floor. The enormity of Vince's action crashed over him in waves, each one more suffocating than the last.

Vince knelt beside him, grabbing Rody’s shoulder, but the adult flinched away, recoiling as if burned. “Don’t touch me!” he screamed, his voice hoarse and raw. “Don’t ever touc—”

C R A S H

“H-hah, huff-I” Vince pants, his breathing becoming unsteady.

His hand, now holding the expensive wine bottle— it was now broken, fragments of the pieces lying scattered across the floor and a few on Rody’s head.

He dropped the bottle, letting it roll onto the bleeding puddle on the floor. The dark-haired adult started to pace around the room, he was hyperventilating, overwhelmed and unsure on what to do.

He did this for them

Yet Rody was so ungrateful. He just wanted Rody to accept his love, to feel the love he was given? Why won't he reciprocate?

Why won't he love him?

Vince cried out in frustration, that was until an idea came into mind. To him, it was brilliant— it was amazing, indeed.

•

The air was damp and cold, and the smell of mildew mixed with the faint metallic scent of blood

The flickering candles cast eerie shadows on the walls, illuminating the grim determination in Vince’s expression as he approached Rody, who was bound to the table. It took awhile but Vince was able to tie a rope around the adult’s body.

Rody slowly woke up, his breathing was ragged, his eyes wide with a mix of fear. Not to mention, how his head was throbbing painfully. His vision blurry as he looked up at Vince's expression.

It was filled with amusement, masked by cold expression as he picked up the gleaming blade from the table beside him. The blade caught the candle’s light, reflecting a sinister glint that sent a shiver down Rody's spine.

Without a word, Vince moved closer, his footsteps echoing ominously in the confined space. He gripped the waiter’s right arm, forcing it to stretch out on the table. Rody tried to pull away, but the bindings held him fast; his heart pounded in his chest, a frantic rhythm of terror.

“Vince, please,” The brunette whispered, his voice trembling. “You don’t have to do this. Please, don’t!”

Vince’s gaze was distant, as if he had already made up his mind and nothing could sway him. He leaned in close, he whispered towards the man’s ear as he murmured, "I’m doing this for us, Rody. I want to taste you—”

“I want to feel the texture of your flesh in my mouth."

With a sudden, brutal force, the chef brought the blade down, slicing through his tan skin. The pain was immediate and excruciating, a searing agony that ripped through Rody’s arm. He screamed, the sound raw and primal, echoing off the walls. Blood spurted from the wound, splattering the floor and his pale hands.

“Stop! Please, Vince, stop!” The brunette‘s voice was a tortured wail, his body convulsing with pain. ““Please!, I’m begging you!”

The chef’s grip was unyielding as he continued to cut, each movement deliberate and methodical. He twisted the blade, cutting through muscle and flesh.

Rody kept resisting, yet it only worsened the pain and consumed his entire body. Rody’s cries filled the place, his suffering, only made the chef drown in pleasure.

“Please! I can’t take it! Please!” The brunette begged, tears streaming down his face. His voice broke with desperation, each word a plea for mercy that went unheard.

His screeching echoed.

The blade struck bone, and Vince applied more pressure, sawing back and forth with grim determination. The sickening sound of metal grating against bone filled the air, mingling with Rody’s anguished screams. Vince’s face was set in a grimace, his jaw clenched tightly as he worked.

Blood pooled on the floor, a dark, viscous puddle that grew with each passing moment. Vince’s hands were slick with it, making his grip on the blade slippery. He adjusted his hold and continued, ignoring the way his muscles burned with effort.

Finally, with one last, savage twist of the blade, the bone gave way.

Rody kept screaming, his eyes shaking as he saw his own arm detach from his body. He kept screaming, in pain- His voice became hoarse and his throat sore.

His scream trailed off into ragged sobs

The pale man had severed Rody’s arm completely, he stood back, panting, his black eyes fixed on the severed limb with a detached, almost clinical gaze.

The tan-skinned man abruptly slumped, his head lolling to the side, eyes glazed with pain. His breathing was shallow, each breath a struggle as blood continued to pour from the gruesome stump where his arm had been.

His dark eyes stared at Rody, a flicker of pleasure over his features. The sense of satisfaction through his brain—

He could now taste Rody’s affection.

#dead plate vincent #dead plate #dead plate rody #deadplate #rody x vince #deadplate rody #rody x vincent #dead plate fanart #vincent charbonneau #rody lamoree

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dc-and-arfrona · 1 year

Text

Saving You

-----

Nightwing x Reader

Type: Fluff

Summary: You are taken by the Joker

Word Count: 700+

Masterlist

----

The darkness of the night settled over Gotham City as Nightwing patrolled its shadowy streets. Every corner he turned, every alley he investigated, carried the weight of an unspoken fear that lingered in his heart. But tonight, fear took on a new form as he received a chilling message—a message that shattered his world.

His heart pounded in his chest as the words echoed in his mind. The Joker had taken you, the love of his life, captive. A surge of anger and desperation coursed through Nightwing's veins, replacing any sense of calm or rationality.

Without a moment's hesitation, Nightwing dashed towards the designated location, his heart pounding with each stride. He couldn't bear the thought of what horrors awaited you in the Joker's twisted hands.

As he arrived at the abandoned amusement park, Nightwing's eyes scanned the eerie surroundings. The creaking of rusted rides echoed through the night, creating an unsettling atmosphere. His mind raced with countless scenarios, his instincts honed for combat.

With every step he took, Nightwing's grip on his escrima sticks tightened. He couldn't afford to let fear consume him, not now. He knew he had to find you, to bring you back safely.

As he ventured deeper into the dilapidated funhouse, Nightwing's heart sank. The flickering lights cast sinister shadows on the walls, mirroring the darkness that plagued his soul. And then, he heard it—the unmistakable laughter that sent chills down his spine.

With a renewed sense of purpose, Nightwing followed the haunting laughter, tracking it to its source. The Joker reveled in the chaos he created, taunting Nightwing with his sadistic glee.

Finally, Nightwing reached the main chamber, his eyes widening at the sight before him. You were bound and gagged, your eyes filled with fear but still reflecting a glimmer of hope as you caught sight of him. The sight only fueled his determination to end this nightmare.

The battle that ensued was fierce and relentless. Nightwing fought with every ounce of strength and skill, his acrobatic moves weaving through the chaos. But in the midst of combat, worry gnawed at his heart. Every strike he landed on the Joker, every move he made, was driven by the fear of what might have happened to you.

With a final, decisive strike, Nightwing incapacitated the Joker, leaving him sprawled on the ground. Breathing heavily, he rushed to your side, gently removing the restraints that bound you. His hands trembled as he pulled the gag away, allowing you to speak once more.

Tears welled up in Nightwing's eyes as he held you close, relief flooding through him like a tidal wave. "I was so worried, so afraid I would lose you," he whispered, his voice filled with a mixture of anguish and gratitude.

You clung to him, seeking solace in his embrace. "I knew you'd come for me," you murmured, your voice laced with gratitude and trust. "I never doubted you."

Nightwing's grip tightened around you as he pressed a fervent kiss to your forehead. The weight of his worry lifted, replaced by an overwhelming sense of protectiveness. "I'd never let anything happen to you," he vowed, his voice filled with determination. "I'll always be there, no matter the danger."

Together, you made your way out of the twisted amusement park, the night air carrying a sense of newfound freedom. The scars of the experience would linger, but Nightwing knew that as long as you were by his side, he could face any darkness that threatened to consume his world.

As the first light of dawn painted the sky, Nightwing and his beloved emerged from the shadows, stronger and more resilient than ever. The experience had tested their bond, but it had also solidified their trust and love.

With each step they took towards a new day, Nightwing vowed to protect you with unwavering resolve. For in the face of darkness, love would always be their guiding light. And he would never allow his worries to overshadow his unwavering dedication to keeping you safe, for you were his everything.

#dc universe #nightwing x reader #nightwing x y/n #dick grayson imagines #dick grayson x reader #dc imagines #dc imagine #nightwing imagines

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dovithedarklord · 9 months

Text

Age of Monsters - Chapter Thirteen

Pairing: OFC x Simon "Ghost" Riley, OFC x König

Tags: Slow Burn, Slow Build, Enemies to Lovers, Alternate Universe, Blood and Gore, Blood and Violence, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, POV First Person, Not Beta Read, Medical Inaccuracies, Military Inaccuracies, AFAB OC

Trigger Warning: The story will contain violance, blood and smut in detail. Please, keep that in mind!

⚠️MDNI⚠️

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Author's Note

The small group goes on a trip and finds something completely different from what they expected.

Hello!

I'm back with Chapter 13! Now I have a couple of Trigger Warnings: Death, corpses (and their detailed description), blood, gore, and violence.

Have fun! :D

I.M.L. – Infected Mammal Lifeform I.H.L. – Infected Humanoid Lifeform

if you're interested you can find the story on AO3: Chapter Thirteen

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The wild, overgrown abundance of the forest glides by like blurred spots next to the car, and although I haven't had a positive experience with nature until now, for once it's not the potential danger behind the trees and bushes that occupies my mind the most. The wind blows in my face through the rolled-down window, and as the characteristic smell of wet plants fills my nose, the apparent calmness of the situation lulls me into a false sense of security. The orange zone is a bag full of risks in itself, but Alejandro's predictions seem to have come true so far, because not a single mutant bastard has attempted to divert our small team, which is moving unstoppably towards its destination. But the deeper we venture on the broken concrete road into the heart of the wilderness, the more convinced I am that this eerie peace and uneventfulness will eventually backfire. And it's true that I was always cautious, and I believed that it was better to be paranoid than to get my ass kicked, but the sinister suspicion that had nestled itself deep inside of me is much more than that. Because it makes me feel like we're heading toward certain chaos, even though our plan seems bulletproof and ridiculously simple. I've already seen how life can wreck a detailed, masterful concept, and I can't get rid of the thought that fucking karma would love to show me again what tricks it can do if it wants to surprise me.

And it seems that I'm not the only one who racks their brains on this ominous intuition, because my two companions traveling with me exude everything other than casual calmness. From the rear-view mirror of the car, I can clearly see the unflinching expression on MacTavish's face, and only the line of his jaw tensing for a moment tells me that he would like to get right into the thick of it and show off his unique interrogation techniques. And although Riley, sharing the back seat with me, has assumed his usual steely confidence, his dark eyes scan every square centimeter of the landscape that appears through the windshield with such intensity, as if he would expect something absolutely terrible to appear in every second. His fear is well-founded, because we could easily come into close physical contact with a mutant here, but I suspect he isn't distressed by the forest and the beasts hidden in it, but rather by the research institute resting on the mountainside. And probably the concerns I expressed during our little moment on the roof last night also helped him to become so tense now. I should be happy that my opinion has such a big influence on him, now that we have finally overcome the differences between the two of us, if possible permanently, but his grim aura only gives my nerves one more reason to strain towards snapping.

"Five minutes and we'll reach the gate." Alejandro's voice filters through the radio and I automatically turn my gaze to the vehicle in front of us, where he and his faithful right-hand man are travelling, leading the way through the maze of nature like the real hosts they are. He nobly undertook this task without allowing any objections, and although I originally had no desire to argue with him being our tour guide, but in the last hour that we have spent here in the jungle behind god's back, I already know that we wouldn't have had a chance to reach our goal in any other line-up. Because even though the road, which has been damaged over the years and is full of potholes, indeed leads somewhere, it splits into side roads in such a confusing way that it is quite amazing. And this, as well as the fact that the environment exudes a progressively unfriendly atmosphere with each passing meter, only confirms the fact that Alviar is truly stirring up the kind of shit, that needs a dozen life-threatening and cunning diversions to cover its smell.

My two companions only acknowledge the information with a wordless nod, our driver is the one who mumbles a quick "Copy" and then fixes his eyes on our battered path with unbroken attention. And the fact that MacTavish, who is always up for a clever comment, is also silenced by the operation before us, could even be disturbing, if the seriousness that possessed him wouldn't be fully justified. Perhaps the rather complicated chain of developments and the promise of an increasingly worse outcome has entered into the mind of a man as well, therefore it's not surprising that he is buzzing with tense energy ready to jump into action, so that he can finally relieve the helpless tension that has accumulated in him until now. This pressure has been building up in him since our nice adventure in the city, and I have a feeling that he won't try to moderate his temper if he has even the smallest chance to unleash it on the modest person of the doc. And that bastard will undoubtedly deserve it if even one of my hypotheses is confirmed.

Suddenly, the car in front of us begins to slow down, and as we adjust to this, we reduce our already cautious speed, and I raise my curious eyes towards the gate slowly emerging through the windshield. And the closer we get, the clearer it becomes that the doc didn't leave the guarding of his threshold to chance, because although the wild greenery skillfully hides the line of the several-meter-high fence stretching between the trees, it would be impossible not to notice the behemoth made of solid metal that rises towards the sky at the end of the worn road. Although a venturous mutant would have no problem climbing over it based on its height alone, even though the whole shebang seems to be at least five meters high, the barbed wire on top of the monstrosity would certainly discourage the hungry beasts from being nosy. And when our vehiches halts at the end of our nice little journey, my nose is hit by the characteristic burnt metallic smell, which makes it quite obvious that my colleague really wanted to show off his sophistication with the first line of his defense, and he made sure to give a shocking experience to those who stray too close to the barrier infused with high-voltage that disappears between the trees. So fucking sly.

The movement coming from the vehicle in front of us disturbs me from my observations, and only a hand appears from behind the rolled-down window to firmly hold up the hologram of the verification document emerging from the communicator towards the camera cleverly hidden on the top of the gate. However, it seems that there may have been an error in the calculation, because when after a few minutes there is no reaction to the introduction, the car door bursts open with angry vehemence, and Alejandro jumps out, stomping closer with visible irritation to signal with his whole being that an important visitor has ventured to the doorstep of this godforsaken hole. He waves his hand towards the wretched camera with growing annoyence, but despite all his efforts and fervor, the gate remains closed with immovable calm, which makes my confusion grow stronger with ever-increasing enthusiasm. It's one thing that the doctor doesn't want to have unexpected and especially unwanted guests, but he must also know that if he doesn't work together with us, my Hunter friends have a couple of brutal ideas on how to convince him to be more cooperative. Not to mention that the head of an institution must be familiar with the intricate maze of the current regulations, especially if he wants to avoid them, so he must also know that if he doesn't let in our small team that came here because of the violation of said rules, then the law and fate will catch up with such force that he will never have a chance to get himself out from that sea of shit.

"What's the problem?" The masked Hunter sitting next to me finally gets bored with the wait, and calls out through the rolled-down window to the man who is slowly engaging in an elaborate pantomime show. And it's enough for me to take a quick glance at Riley to assess how every fiber of his being fills with the first wave of impatient temper, and how his body moves forward, like a big cat who at this very moment has lost its patience with its naughty little prey that constantly slips away. And there is no doubt that he also starts to lose his cool at the finishline, when in addition to all the infuriating details of the events so far, the unsuspecting fool now wants to stretch his self-restraint to infinity.

"Something is not right! The guards should've been here by now!" Comes the irritated reply from the unit's leader, and as he turns back, every single wrinkle of the ire on his face becomes visible. Based on the deep furrows gathering on his forehead, it becomes completely clear that although he harbors hostile feelings towards Alviar, and he is sure that the asshole wants to block our entry, he also knows that the doc is not so stupid as to oppose him so openly. Because by doing so, the good doctor would risk a much greater retort, and then he would have to say goodbye to his peaceful solitude, which he had been enjoying until now in the soft lap of undisturbed nature.

It seems that Riley doesn't need any more motivation to take action, because without any further explanation, he opens the door and gets out of our little vehicle to walk closer to his comrade with heavy steps. Every cell of his tall frame fills with the pulsation of his restrained fury, which inevitably makes my stomach flutter with excitement, for there is something unbelievably compelling about the way he charges forward with the unstoppable determination of a tank. He stops for just a moment next to Alejandro, who, although I can't hear the fierce words coming out of his mouth, I know that he is explaining in, presumably very colorful language, why this unfortunate turn of events is bad news for us. And this gives the masked Hunter enough reason to take the solution of the problem into his own hands, and I lean forward to follow what kind of tactics the man chooses to eliminate this obstacle that cannot be called small even the slightest.

When he arrives in front of the metal monstrosity, which towers above him with unbroken dignity, he lets his weapon attached to its sling fall beside him, and raises his hand in the air with such noble simplicity, as if he wasn't about to slam down on a solid steel door. When one of his huge fists strikes, the metal shakes wildly from the impact, and the peace of the forest is disturbed by a thunderous crash, causing the birds resting on the trees to fly out of the foliage in alarm. And although the gate doesn't yield from this terrible force, the deep indentation created at the contact of the two-winged entrance already provides enough grip for Riley's hands to worm their way into the gap. A shudder runs along my spine reflexively, causing the little hairs to rise up, and suddenly I don't feel like fighting the feeling that overwhelms me, when I realize that he is trying to pull open the walls of the gate with his bare hands. And my mind tries to scold my body, since in the midst of a vital mission it's not the time for these dubious feelings to appear, but I can't tear my eyes away from the sight. He grounds his booted legs to exert as much force as possible, and despite the looseness of his uniform, I can see how the material strains by the work of the bulging muscles on his arms and back, and goosebumps prickle on every inch of my body, because I can almost feel the angry vibrations of his power on my skin. With a deafening screech, the metal surrenders to the Hunter's attack, and as the heavy walls slowly but surely move, the empty concrete road becomes visible. And just as Riley forces a passage wide enough for a person to pass through, he steps away and turns back to us, looking pleased with his work.

"It's open now." He announces to our small group, raising his deep voice, and I can see even from a distance, as the red glow in his eyes slowly fades, when he once again hides all the destructive power of his little Hunter abilities. Based on his makeshift weapon made from a traffic sign in the previous mission, I had no doubt that he could enhance his physical strength when he activates his skills, but this is a feat I didn't know a human could do, no matter how superhuman they are. And the fact that it awakened that fucking warm tremble in me is another proof that my sanity has completely gone.

"Steamin’ Jesus..." MacTavish's utters his rather apt reaction, and the excitement mixed with admiration creeping into his voice tells me that even though it's not the first time he's seen his partner use similar effective methods, he's still sufficiently impressed by the masked man's wide repertoire of pure power. And although I share his amazement, I quickly realize that Riley has even more self-control than I thought, because, under the influence of my little provocations, he could have messed me up even worse than I had originally assumed. And the knowledge that up until now he has held the reins of his aggression with a steady hand whenever I have directed my sly little words at him or tried to shake him up with my cunning tactics, and I'm still alive, for some reason fills me with sick joy. Now I'm pretty sure I'm not right in the head.

It seems that everyone was enchanted for a moment by the show the masked man unexpectedly put on, because it takes a few stunned seconds before Alejandro at least pulls himself together, and when he does, only a broad, proud grin spreads across his face. It's clear that he also liked this impromptu performance, and this gives him the impetus to return to the mission and wave to his men, coaxing them out of the cars in Spanish. This is the point where MacTavish also decides that he has spent just enough time in our vehicle, and opens the door of the car to jump out of it with such enthusiasm, as if someone had shown a spring up in his ass.

"Come on, lassie, let's not make our guests wait!" He turns back to me, gesturing towards the worn gate, giving a clear signal that after the impressive entrance, it's time to surprise the doc with our pleasant company, if he tried to avoid it so enthusiastically. The glint that settles in the man's blue eyes promises violence, and the wicked curve of his mouth lets me know that my Scottish friend, who has been on pins and needles since the beginning of our journey, has already formulated at least dozens of ideas in his head to welcome Alviar properly. And there is no doubt that each of his ideas is full of delicacies, each more painful than the other, with which he can make my unknown colleague sing a song where the doc will spill even his mother's name just to end the fun. And who am I to deprive him of the fun?

With a quiet, amused sigh, I pull myself together, so that I, too, can peel myself out of the comfortable tranquility of the back seat and drag my pretty little ass out into the humid embrace of the forest. And the Hunter with the mohawk, after checking that I'm ready for the excitement ahead of us, sets off with urgent steps towards the damaged gate, driven by his renewed vigor, and I follow him with similar enthusiasm, so that we can gallop towards the small group in deep discussion.

And as soon as we get closer, I have the opportunity to admire the communicator, which is still resting happily in Alejandro's hand, on which, instead of the faint blue hologram of his ID, something completely different is flashing with a bright yellow color. I don't need to know Spanish to recognize from the aggressively flashing text that we've managed to generate a neat little warning with our not-so-gentle knock. And based on this, it’s easy to assess that the institution's security system automatically signals the colony and thus probably the liquidation unit as well, if something or someone is reckless enough to venture in without authorization. Of course, this begs the question, if Alviar surrounds himself with such a line of defense to keep us out, shouldn't there be someone here to prevent us from continuing our little incursion?

"What's the matter?" MacTavish inquires, and he directs his eyes to the message flashing with increasing enthusiasm in the hands of the leader of the unit, where on the map a vivid red circle marks with definite outlines the exact location of the intrusion into the facility. And from the way the Scottish Hunter carefully peeks through the opened gap and scans the suspicious immobility waiting for us on the other side, it becomes quite obvious that I'm not the only one who finds the absence of the reception committee unusual.

"The security system is still active because we received the alarm about the intrusion." Rodolfo points to the hologram, and the deep furrows between his eyebrows reveal that there is no scenario in which this could be considered a good or lucky development. Because it might even make our job easier if we don't have to immediately fight with a couple of soldiers armed to the chin in order to get into the hospitable confines of the establishment, but silence and desolation are never a good sign if you expect to be welcomed. And we anticipated unfriendliness at least, if not outright resistance, but the fact that we are now greeted by none other but the big, stinking pile of nothing is more than strange. It's Alejandro who has enough of this hesitancy and, after pressing a few buttons, he makes the notification disappear to sink his communicator back into the deep recesses of his pocket, overcoming the unusual turn of events with the ease of a true leader, only to raise his dark eyes meaningfully at our small group and return to the execution of the mission, taking his weapon in his hand.

"We continue on foot! Don't let your guard down, we can expect that bastard to be up to something!" Alejandro gives out his orders and admonitions, and there is an undisguised hostility and anger in his tone, which leads me to conclude that, based on the events of the last few minutes, he has a strong suspicion that this won't be the only obstacle and interesting thing that we will encounter thanks to the doc. "After me!" He shouts, then pushes himself through the gap in the gate with purposeful movements, being the first to take on the noble task of checking out what awaits us on the other side. And when he has squeezed through, he points his weapon forward with lightning speed so that he can pump a bullet into anyone who feels like ambushing him. But, when the brave volunteer doesn't show up and nothing happens, he lowers the assault rifle and lets us know with just a wave that we are safe to proceed, and this gives enough motivation for his men to move behind each other in single file to follow their leader through the gaping crevice.

When the last soldier makes his way through the opening forced into the gate, my Scottish friend steps to the side, maintaining the principle of "ladies first", and with outstretched arms offers me the opportunity to be the first of our little trio to step onto the riddle-filled grounds of the facility. And I only raise one of my eyebrows and fix my eyes on the man, wondering when had he become such a gentleman, but finally accepting his sudden chivalry, I walk past him to slide through our entrance. When I cross the threshold, I'm greeted only by the emptiness, which for some reason seems even more peculiar now that I have the opportunity to take a closer look at the place. And as I divert my bright eyes, I see a small cabin resting peacefully next to the gate, where our cars waiting on the broken road greet me through a very well-functioning screen, and I immediately feel that something is very wrong. There is a single plastic bottle on the table, its wall thickly painted by the vapor of the water inside it, and I suspect that it must have been there for a long time if its contents could turn opalescent. That bottle must have been sitting in the stuffy booth for at least days, not an hour or two, to look like this. And I highly doubt that it's lying there forgotten only because of the carelessness of its owner.

But soon I'm jolted out of my contemplation, because I hear the two remaining Hunters arrive behind me, and as I break away from the strange view, I turn back and catch Riley, who, after MacTavish, is the last to press himself through the crack made by his busy hands. When he straightens up upon arrival, he checks the landscape shrouded in immobility around us with the momentum of his routine, to his eyes to then stop on the same small hole, the mystery of which I analyzed so enthusiastically not long ago. Despite the mask, it's easy to recognize the suspicious expression that appears on his face, although I only see thin but grim lines around the skin covered in black paint, as his eyes slowly narrow when he takes in the details of the scene left behind in a haste. And the fact that it also fills him with a sufficient amount of foreboding to dwell on it, only reinforces the whispering of the ominous voices in my head, warning that it's better to be careful, because this could be something other than just the doc trying to hide his ass.

"Let's go! The building is not far!" Alejandro calls out suddenly, drawing everyone's undivided attention to him again, motioning towards the road, which is hidden from prying eyes by lush green plants swaying lazily in the wind, as it meanders peacefully into the unknown. And in other cases, this sight could even be idyllic, but now it only awakens the unease that grows stronger in my skull with every passing minute. Because there is nothing normal in the fact that such a mysterious institution doesn't react to the intrusion of the official bodies into their harmonious little living space, which they have tried to protect with all their slyness until now. And I catch the worried furrows frozen on our leader's forehead and the dour downward curve of his mouth just in time, before he sets off followed by his loyal companion and his men, but even this fleeting moment is enough for me to deduce from his expression that we are walking into a party that I'm not sure we are prepared for.

"Let's not fall behind." Riley steps next to me, and although there is nothing in his voice apart from the usual deep hoarseness and his confidence, my keen senses quickly recognize the tension pulsing from him. It's no wonder that his mood is slowly becoming more and more gloomy, because anyone with a little sense knows how abnormal the suspicious smoothness of the mission so far is. But this is probably not the first time the masked man has encountered a mystery like this, because although he doesn't lose his caution, he quickly steels himself, and with only one last glance at me, he rushes forward with his friend close at his heels, so that they, too, could start sneaking carefully behind Alejandro's small team, picking up the pace dictated by the leading Hunter with the experience of the professionals. And I hesitate for just a moment to take one last peek at the cubicle frozen in unsettling silence, to then turn my back on the stillness that prevails in it, to catch up with my little buddies who are already moving forward with hasty steps. After all, no matter how fast the questions multiply in my brain, I won't find the answers here.

As soon as I reach them I fall in line with them, and for a minute I wonder what this extra precaution is for. Unquestionably, the doc doesn't like us, but I doubt he'd be so foolish as to try to attack four Hunters and six battle-hardened soldiers in the back. Not only because the sharp senses of the Hunters would recognize the danger lurking before they have the opportunity to strike, but also because it would strengthen our assumptions about his illegal activities more than any words could. After all, someone who has nothing to hide doesn't need to aggressively defend said nothing. But as my gaze wanders, taking in all the hidden little parts of the road ahead, I quickly understand that this thoughtfulness is not for Alviar's slyness. Much more to the bleak silence that follows us the deeper we drift into the recesses of the institute's territory. It's as if the gate we fought our way through was meant to keep out not only the wild beasts hiding in the wilderness, but to restrain the heavy atmosphere that settles here, which descends on us like a suffocating blanket. Although everything seems peaceful, not a single sound filters through except for the crunch of the debris drifting under our boots and the soft rustle of our clothes, and the whole thing feel as if we have entered into a fucking ghost town. An actively functioning institution buzzing with people shouldn't be so terribly quiet, especially when the boss here has tried so hard to keep visitors away.

And with every meter I walk, the grip of restlessness inside me grows harsher, causing my limbs to fill with tension, as if I should expect an ambush from behind every blade of grass or bush swaying comfortably in the warm breeze. The fact that instead we are surrounded by the same maddeningly lifeless calm stretches the sharpened attention of my nerves even more. It seems that the two Hunters marching in front of me are not much happier with the ease with which the mission has been progressing so far, because I only have to observe the muscles dancing on my Scottish friend's forearm, as he tightens his grip on the hilt of his weapon, or to take in the stiff line of the masked man's broad back to know, that I'm not the only one who is filled with concerns by the absence of the warm welcome we had anticipated. But when MacTavish, who has been diligently observing every square centimeter of the road, turns his head toward the uphill curve of our little path with the speed of a bloodhound that has caught a scent, I feel the nervous tug of foreboding in my stomach. Because even though I can only take a look at the man's profile as he looks meaningfully at Riley, who is walking in front of him, but from the way he pulls his mouth into a disgusted frown I quickly understand, that his super senses must have detected some unusual shit from the end of the footpath leading to our destination.

"Do ya feel it too, Ghost?" The Scottish Hunter mutters grimly, and there is no trace of the fun and relaxation that he managed to bring here with him until now. He doesn't explain what he found with the help of his sharpened perception, but the troubled arch of his furrowed brows is enough evidence that it may have something to do with our disturbingly smooth break-in.

"Yeah." The masked man answers curtly, and there is something inscrutable in his voice, which only crowns the dark look with which he stares ahead, as if he would already know something that no one else has figured out yet. As my gaze wanders to our two tour guides who are walking far ahead, I can see from the unsettled look they share that they also noticed the exciting little detail that made the aura of the two Hunters so terribly sinister. And even though my sharp little eyes run over the endless green blanket of vegetation stretching around us, the same tense peace greets me, but the voice in my brain assures me that I don't need to worry, and soon I too can experience what they managed to pick up on so quickly.

And although they don't share what they found so early on with the small team, the gloom emanating from the Hunters certainly lays the foundation for the watchful tension that eats itself into everyone's consciousness with the vileness of an infectious disease. And suddenly the whole group becomes a bundle of nerves, and perhaps with even more vigilance than before, they continue their troop along the wretched path, broken by the roots. The next few minutes pass with such torturous slowness, as if we had left the walls of the gate leading to the outside world at least a thousand years ago. When we finally reach the end of our trail, the building of the rather imposing research institution is revealed, which stands out at the end of the neglected courtyard with such unusual prominence, as if its creator had intended to attract attention rather than to hide from it. One would think that a private institution of this level would be able to afford to have someone keep it in order, but the area that extends to the building gives the impression that this noble task hasn't been fulfilled by anyone for a while now. And the hurriedly parked car resting untouched in the middle of everything doesn't help either. Based on its position, my guess is that whoever forgot this vehicle here, didn't intend to stay for more than a few minutes. But judging by the undisturbed layer of leaves sitting thickly on the top of the car, and the absence of any kind of wheel tracks, I can rightly conclude that the owner didn't leave the machine here for a short time, but it was probably left behind just long enough to raise a series of suspicious questions in my brain.

But this strangeness doesn't scare away the little squad, they wade forward with unceasing enthusiasm through the blanket of branches and leaves that cover the ground, and when I diligently follow them and sneak closer, then out of nowhere, like an unexpected surprise, a strange stomach-turning smell creeps into my nose, and I suddenly understand that there may be a serious reason why no one was bothered by the abandoned car. Because although I have never felt a stench like this in whole my life, every single one of my muscles is filled with sinister energy, and the instincts in my subconscious immediately convey the message to me that this can only belong to a source that I should better stay away from. And although a repulsed grimace swims to my face, still, like a puppet being pulled on a string, my legs carry me through the desolate field, and the crunch of sun-dried plants under the soles of my shoes reaches my ears as a dull noise, as I follow Riley striding with deliberate steps in front of me, who must have felt this exact delicacy together with his Scottish bosom friend before. The closer we get, the stronger the smell becomes, as if the building were spreading like a festering wound in the middle of the undisturbed calm, just waiting for someone to unravel its mystery. And morbid curiosity awakens in me, as I fix my eyes on the double-winged metal door leading inside, because although the warning voice in my skull tries to hold me back with tooth and nail from venturing too close, the unanswered riddles prove to be a much greater temptation.

However, with Alejandro in the lead, the group suddenly stops, as if trying to muster up the strength to finally cross the threshold of the godforsaken structure. And for some reason, I get the feeling that whatever is behind the elegantly crafted entrance, it must be serious, if the unit leader must find his composure to face it. If I take into consideration the multitude of ominous signs that have accumulated so far, which we have encountered in every step we took in the short journey that led us up here, then I realize that the man's sour mood could be quite well-founded. And based on my experience so far, my intuitions are rarely wrong.

"We're going in. On me." Alejandro gives out his instructions, and even though I haven't known him for a long time, yet in the the to-the-point command, I feel the unspoken harsh edge with which he prepares his men for the worst. And when he wraps one of his gloved hands on the metal bar running along the door and opens it with a decisive movement, all the troubled wrinkles and grim looks, as well as the strange, deserted emptiness that has accompanied our journey until now, gain meaning. Because, as soon as the golden light of the sun penetrates the darkness inside, I only catch the outline of the motionless bodies spread out in the large lobby for a minute, and my brain can immediately place what it was that held back the people from showing us their hospitality.

But I don't have much time to admire the interior of the institute wallowed up by darkness, because the force of the stench, which I had only mildly felt before, reaches me in a big wave, as it fills every corner of my nose. My stomach instinctively twists and shoves its rumbling contents up my throat as the repulsive smell of rotting flesh fills every single one of my senses like an inescapable slithery parasite. And as the nausea convulses my insides, I stagger in confusion, looking for support, because I feel my mouth suddenly fill with saliva with dangerous quickness by the nauseatingly sweet aroma. When my trembling hand finds the rough surface of the wall, and I finally don't have to fear that I will end the day sprawled on the ground from the dizziness entering my head, even before we could reach its peak, then my palm almost painfully clings to my mouth to try to hold back the stomach acid, that is slowly gnawing up my esophagus, before it can spill out of me. And I feel the tears start to sting my eyes when I gag violently, and I need every single nerve to convince myself not to give in to the stimulus that twists my stomach mercilessly.

Even my fast little body needs a few nerve-wracking minutes before I manage to force the contents of my upset stomach back into place while slowly breathing through my nose, and the vehemence of the onslaught of the penetrating smell of corpses eases a little. I'm suddenly disturbed from my deep concentration by a huge hand, which settles on the back of my neck, emerging from my shirt, with surprising tenderness, squeezing it gently, thus tearing me out of the exhausting work of banishing my sickness. And even despite the nausea terrorizing my body, I have the strength to be surprised, because the sight of Riley bending over me and pulling me into the protective cover of his burly figure, as if he wanted to spare my dignity, which was quite enthusiastically triggered by the surprise of my first authentic encounter with the reek of rotting remains. But perhaps what is even more unexpected is the scarf offered to me, which rests in his gloved hand with such self-evident casualness, as if this weren't the first time he had surprised me with such a selfless gesture.

"Wrap it around your face." He suggests, and although based on the hoarse edge hidden in his accent, his message sounds more like an instruction, but as my gaze intertwines with his, the restrained soft glint in the dark eyes seems quite real, with which he slowly searches through every pitiful part of my person clinging to the wall. And I get the feeling from this small thoughtfulness, which is completely foreign to him, that the peaceful little moment we spent last night on the roof truly helped him to finally soften up to me. But before I could start thinking about this at the most inconvenient time, I accept the material offered without any arguments or questions instead, to gather my composure and straighten myself up. As the comforting warmth of his palm leaves my neck, for a moment the feeling of absence hits me with a painful force, but I follow his advice and wrap my face up to the middle of my nose in the thick textile before my consciousness has time to process how ridiculously good the weight of his touch felt on my goosebump-flecked skin.

"Thank you." I squeeze the words out of myself, and I need all my will to bring determination back into my voice. Because even though at the first stray inhale, that hideous stench finally disappears from my nose, it's replaced by the man's characteristic scent, and this helps drive the nausea aways from my stomach with completely unreasonable speed, so that something entirely different moves in its place. And it's almost ridiculous how quickly my body manages to calm down from the sickness that has been tearing at me until now, as Riley's essence snakes into every cell of my being, in which I discover traces of the bitter smoke of tobacco and the spicy, salty aroma of his skin.

When he sees that I've managed to regain my presence again, and that the ash-gray color of my face has probably become several shades healthier, he gives me one last fleeting glance and wordlessly joins MacTavis, who is waiting in front of the entrance. And on the face of my Scottish friend, the curve of his lips pressed together with worry softens, as soon as he realizes that I will no longer pass out from the phenomenally nice gift that welcomed us in this miserable shithole. And my soul is completely warmed by the way, despite the not-so-bright developments so far, an encouraging half-smile appears on his stubble-framed mouth, before he disappears with his masked friend behind the open metal door, leaving me alone a little longer in my solitude. And after I finally regained control over my body, I realize that several questions that had tormented us so enthusiastically until now found a fairly simple answer. After all, why would the reception committee have rushed to meet us if every single one of its members was dead?

And from this, the confidence finds its way back into my limbs, and my feet guide me with a sense of purpose to the mouth of the building stinking of decay, and the demanding desire for knowledge igniting in my head helps to make my steps so urgent. I only hesitate for a minute, until I get used to the dull darkness that settles in after the blinding sunlight, and when my vision finally sharpens, I enter into the next scene of our investigation. My gaze glides over each and every piece of the unfolding murder, and as I cautiously wander in, the more details I manage to notice. Even though I have Riley's scarf over my face, even through the cloth the smell of death lingers in the dark foyer, which has soaked itself into every pore of the place as if the once luxurious room had turned into a gangrenous ulcer. Even before the chaos swept through here, the consequences of which we are now forced to tiptoe around, this could certainly have been a room imbued with professionalism, which would have impressed anyone who set eyes on it. Now, however, this decorative interior is disfigured by the decomposing bodies of the slain victims on the ground, around whom, mixed with dirt, the dry, dark brown stains of the liquids from their slaughtered flesh and decay have soaked into the floor's pale cream tiles. Only a female figure in a lab coat lying in the middle of the hall, dirty with coagulated blood, reveals that whoever broke in here didn't spare the unarmed researchers either. From the white of the documents spread around the remains of the woman's head, the small, torn pieces of flesh and bone fragments stand out unnaturally, bearing witness to the brutality with which the damn scums who wrecked this establishment were able to execute the staff who, even though were dealing with some illegal business, were perfectly defenseless.

"So that's why they kept quiet." Alejandro states glumily, muttering a Spanish swear word under his breath, fiercely scanning the walls, which in some places have been painted with abstract patterns by the dark drops of blood splattered on them, standing out from the pale blue plaster intended for comfort, like some grotesque frescoes. And the man's statement cleverly points out the now rather obvious reason, which can justify why Alviar and his employees turned away from their duties and the outside world in the last two weeks. There could have been a thousand and one reasons why the institution went into voluntary exile, but the fact that such a ruthless but rather simple explanation lies behind the events is not good news at all. In fact. It's downright disastrous. Because it means that whatever was hidden here was valuable enough that the senseless massacre of dozens of people was considered a fair price.

"From the condition of the corpses, their death may coincide with radio silence." Riley crouches down to one of the bodies covered in a dark uniform, around whose mouth opened to a silent scream, flies circle merrily, as if they had arrived at a real buffet reception. From the point of view of these bugs, this could be true, and based on the discovery of the masked Hunter, they have been enjoying this celebratory lunch spread with bloodshed for two weeks at least. And this complication that has arisen is the exact reason that makes it so dangerous for a private institution to stray far from the protective proximity of the colonies, because if such bad luck befalls the unsuspecting victims, the authorities will only be informed of the trouble when even its memory begins to fade.

"What the bloody hell happened here?" MacTavish asks the most important question, and his voice is filled with the hot edge of the raging fury inside him, and this is the poison that helps his facial muscles turn into a frown full of anger, and which echoes with a wild gleam in his slowly narrowing blue eyes. It's clear that although he wanted revenge on the doc for the adventure in which he got to watch his comrades being eaten alive by the wretched mutants, I don't think he had this kind of justice in his mind. And as he moves his gaze over the same female figure on whom I had previously lingered, his jaw clenches with such force that I can almost hear his teeth grind from afar.

"These are members of the security staff." Rodolfo points to another corpse wrapped in a black uniform with the barrel of his machine gun, whose ID card resting on its chest clearly testifies to the truth of the Hunter's claim. "But there are also researchers among the dead." He adds, gesturing with his hand towards one of the figures who once probably wore sterile clothes, whose body, frozen in an unnatural pose, had been mutilated beyond recognition by the dozens of bullets, which left gaping bloody holes on the battered textile. Whoever paid a friendly visit here didn't leave the success up to chance, did a fairly thorough job, and they didn't spare the ammo, if they could surely help the victims to the afterlife with it. The whole sad situation shows the kind of cruelty that only a real, calculating, and totally sadistic bastard can do. Because there was no need to kill these unsuspecting people in the midst of such merciless carnage, yet someone most certainly found pleasure in executing these mostly defenseless poor souls. And I only have to observe the direction of the corpses in which they are lying on the ground, with their backs staring up at the ceiling, and it becomes completely clear that most of them were killed during their desperate escape towards the exit. As if someone wanted to give them the false hope of survival, only to slaughter them a few hopeful meters before the finish line. And that's fucking cruel even for me.

"Someone has turned the place upside down bloody well. They made sure that no one was left who could spit out what had happened." My Scottish friend remarks darkly, and as his gaze continues to wander from victim to victim, the poison flowing from him in restrained waves becomes more and more menacing, which makes him look like a wild animal enraged to the extreme, just waiting to finally snap the neck of the one who provoked him. I suspect that this enthusiasm is shared by all the members of our small team, who stopped in the hall in shock, because the trash who did this, even with the greatest kindness, would deserve someone to make a seat cover from their flayed skin. I'm not a saint either, and I've caused a painful death for others, but even I'm not as psychopathic as to give someone such an inhumane and dishonorable end. Because these people were butchered like animals. For a purpose, no doubt, but mostly for fun. And it occurs to me again that this circumstance is another piece of evidence that points to the fact that there is some very disturbing connection between the dear doc and the I.H.L.s, which someone sniffed out much earlier than we did.

"Now it’s certain that Alviar was involved in something serious." I divert everyone's attention from the revealed horrors back to the original goal of our mission, and although the situation is becoming more and more complicated, it doesn't change the fact that we came here because of our new mutant friend. And current developments only slightly modify the questions to which we are looking for answers. Because now it's quite certain that the mystery of the mutant-riding I.H.L. comes from here, we just have to find out what could be so maddeningly interesting about it to make someone go through such a blood bath. "Whoever did this came for the same reason we did. We need to know what lured them here." I declare firmly, and as all eyes are fixed on me, I know from the seriousness hidden in them that everyone has come to this rather dire conclusion in light of the sad discoveries that awaited us. And I don't need to add the fact to my brief warning that whatever the perpetrators have found, they have a two-week head start on their side, and that's just enough for them to concoct and carry out the clever plan they stumbled here as a part of. Because this isn't the work of chance, someone wandered here for a good reason, and we have no idea why. We only know from the cruel reminders scattered around the hall that they are not afraid to resort to drastic solutions if it’s in their interest. Fuck.

But the heavy silence that settles over the group only lasts for a few seconds, and then it's Alejandro who takes control again, and his dark eyes sweep over the room with the thoroughness of a hawk searching for prey, before settling on the counter opposite the entrance. He seems to have found what he's been looking for, as he dashes across the chaos-filled stage and rushes to the small table that must be serving as a reception desk, as if he's stumbled upon some critical detail. When he arrives, he walks around the tasteful furniture with nimble steps, and then lifts the framed drawing resting on the wall with a few light movements. And when he lays the picture frame down on the surface of the polished wood, he only waves towards us with his hand, inviting us closer with a few quick Spanish words, so that we can admire together the work he snatched from the wall. And he doesn't even have to coax anyone to cooperate, because the soldiers scattered in different corners of the room set off without question at the command of their leader. My two companions break out from the further study of the traces of the massacre to rush closer, and I, following their example, carefully dodging the disintegrating remains stretching out on the ground, head towards the assembly. And when I stand between the Scottish man and his masked friend, I finally have a chance to look at the wonder that the other Hunter has discovered. And he got his hands on a really useful little thing, because behind the glass, the floor plan of the research institute unfolds with precise care, revealing all the exciting nooks and crannies hidden in the depths of the building.

"We're separating into groups up." Alejandro begins to outline his plan and points to a room which, based on the drawing, opens from the front hall and stretches to the entire length of the ground floor. And even though every classic horror movie that I watched secretly in the archives at school when I was a young teenager begins with this kind of trick, I don't panic now, because I have the right to assume that we will be in for a completely different kind of surprises than in those unique works of art. "Rudy and I check the security office to see if there are any traces left. The security system is still active, there must be something." The Hunter explains, and based on how his brows knot together, I know he's just hoping that they'll find something useful. Because, indeed, the security system didn't go kaput despite the chaos, but the rational little voice in my head warns that this could have been a very deliberate move on the part of the bastards who broke in. After all, after a bloodshed of such a caliber, there is no single-minded fool who wants to lead the righteous hands of the authorities to themself, and I highly doubt they forgot about the cameras that watch every corner of the building with prying eyes. It’s more likely that this inconvenience was circumvented by a sly trick.

"I check Alviar's office." MacTavish announces, tapping at the sizeable room on the first floor on the map, on which the precious name of the head of the institution is outlined in fine letters, announcing that the ridiculously large office has been placed in such a central position to serve his ego, even on this wretched paper. And I have a feeling that, as a poetic twist of fate, death probably caught him in that neat hole, and his deteriorating remains are now waiting to be found there. It's quite certain that they didn't let him live, because the one who came here didn't care about the doc's knowledge and influence, but the goods. And for that, it was probably much more beneficial if no one was left alive to hinder the process.

My bright eyes run inquisitively over the side-by-side sketches that reveal the floors of the building, and although all the inscriptions inform me in Spanish about the names of the structure's parts, I don't need to be a particular genius to recognize the heart of the research institute in a huge room that occupies an entire floor, well hidden from the world. Based on its size, it's also clear that they spared no expense when creating it, which wouldn't be a particularly unusual fact, but based on the increasingly complicated series of twists and turns so far, I can rightly conclude that it was some shady research that made it necessary to pack the basement full with tiny rooms, a gigantic laboratory, and that slightly suspicious chamber that isn't marked even on this ridiculously detailed map. It's as if the doctor didn't want to risk putting even the mildest-sounding name on it, just in case someone becomes involuntarily curious as to what they might have hidden there. Bingo, here we go.

"The central lab is in the basement. We might find there what we originally came for." I select the next destination, where the reason why we crossed the zones teeming with beasts and dragged ourselves all the way here can lie. And my thirst for knowledge is hungrily straining my consciousness, especially now that I know that we probably weren't the only ones who felt so terribly interested in what the doctor so enthusiastically hid from the world and curious eyes.

"We're goin’ to go down there." Riley declares firmly, clearly aiming at the two of us with this stray sentence, and I just turn to him curiously, as I tear my gaze away from the examination of the floor plan. And although I find it interesting that now he chooses my company instead of his bestie to hang out in the institution that has become a deserted haunted house, despite his emphasis that doesn't leave any room for arguing, I don't feel like rejecting his offer. Now I'm not afraid to admit even to myself that I'm much more glad that this rather dangerous man will follow me as my scary shadow, and hopefully protect me from what will most certainly lie in wait for us in the unknown. Although I doubt that bloodthirsty beasts would ambush us, one can never be too careful, and who would be better suited to effectively neutralize unexpected and quite life-threatening threats than him? And it's also dead certain that whatever awaits us down there, the Hunter will be the most dangerous thing I'll find myself in the same airspace with, in this cursed place turned into a graveyard.

"Be on alert." Alejandro gives us his last advice for the trip, moving his eyes meaningfully over the people gathered. And after everyone lets him know with a curt nod that they got the message, he pushes himself away from the counter without further hesitation, pats Rodolfo on the shoulder, and sets sail towards the showy door resting at the far end of the room, with some of the busy little soldiers behind him, who follow their leader towards new excitements like ducklings.

"Be careful, who knows what kind of boogeyman is down there!" MacTavish steps back, despite the suffocating atmosphere, trying to infuse us with some enthusiasm before we all head off toward our ominous destinations. But despite the tiny little half-smile on his face, the doubt in his eyes doesn't escape my attention, letting me know quite clearly that he feels anything but calm about our current action. Although he wears the mask of professionalism he has acquired over the years, he cannot hide from my searching eyes the grim tension that settles in his entire being, which makes his steps more hurried than necessary, as he turns his back on us and heads towards the glass door leading to the stairway. He understands as well that the disturbed state of the institution doesn't bode well, even if we find clues. Because even if we find answers, there will be some more important detail that someone else already got their vile hands on.

"Let's go." Riley gives the jump-start, and I take one last look at our map and nod in agreement, memorizing the small details that my brain calls my attention to check later. And when I also leave the place of our impromptu meeting at the counter, I take my gun from my belt and turn to the man, who, after making sure that I'm ready for our little adventure together, searches for the metal door leading to the basement and starts out towards it with firm steps. I quickly follow him, staying closely behind his tall figure, nobly letting him have the task of clearing the way in front of our pair. Fixing my eyes on his back, I almost instinctively pick up the pace with which he marches across the lobby, once again shrouded in stillness, as if my body would automatically switch to the cold sense of purpose that fills every fiber of his body as he leads us through the scattered sea of chaos and the dead. And the sudden harmony between us seems so natural that even my overworked brain doesn't stop to question why.

When we reach the entrance leading to our destination, the man only stops for a moment, just long enough to prepare for the attack, should a surprise await us on the other side. But as he pushes the metal in with one of his large palms, despite pointing the barrel of his rifle forward at lightning speed, nothing awaits us but the silent darkness, which calls us closer. This development doesn't surprise me, but it calls for a fair amount of caution, because the voices of suspicion lurking in my head tell me that although the quietness that greets us seems uninhabited and harmless, this feeling has already skillfully misled us upon our arrival.

"Stay behind me." The Hunter orders, looking down at me behind his back, but there is something quite soft hidden in his deep voice, which makes this small sentence far from seeming like an command, but more like a request with which he wants to ensure my physical safety. And with all my strength, I suppress the ferocious warmth in my stomach before it can bubble up unreasonably at the worst moment, because now we have to focus on the task, which, based on the man's wariness, could potentially hide more risks than the lifeless emptiness waiting for us behind the threshold with open arms shows.

With a quick nod, I signal that I have taken note of his brief wish, and as the red light in his eyes flares up, he wordlessly enters the dark room, and I remain obediently close to him. Accompanied by the dull light filtering in behind us, we venture inside, creeping with steady movements, and then after a few wandering meters, we find the steep stairs that, according to the floor plan, lead to the lab. The masked Hunter raises his weapon in front of him with unwavering enthusiasm and slowly moves to the steps covered in light tiles, scanning the pitch darkness in front of us with his smoldering eyes. Even I'm surprised by the unity with which we penetrate deeper and deeper into the narrow passageway leading underground, and the further we get down the stairs, the more the atmosphere around us turns into a sinister silence, where nothing else makes any noise but the soles of our boots creaking on the tiled surface. And I suspect that none of us becomes tense because of poor vision, because each of our clever little eyes quickly adapts to it in its own way. Rather, it's the steps leading to infinity that plant the first sparks of stress in my head, because after our welcome dotted with corpses, I don't expect anything good now either. And to an outside observer, it may be comical how two armed people stealthily sneak down a fucking staircase, but this uneventfulness cannot deceive the menacing foreboding that grips my stomach.

But as endless as it seemed, the steps suddenly run out, leading us to a short corridor, at the end of which another lonely door stands in our way. And as we stalk closer, it becomes clear that we are not the first to venture down here, because the control panel resting next to the entrance is destroyed beyond recognition, testifying that someone got the urge to sniff around down here before us. And this rightfully raises the unpleasant question of who and how could have found out that it's worth researching here. If the authorities of the colony didn't know what the doc was busying himself with, then it could be only an insider who became stupidly chatty, because the attack and the burglars' path seems too purposeful and organized for it to be just random looting. Someone let the cat out of the bag at the wrong time and in the wrong place, and the juicy info reached certain ears, whose owner wasn't afraid to get their hands dirty in order to get something valuable.

"They got ahead of us here as well." I state quietly, highlighting what has now become painfully obvious to both of us. And I can only hope that they left a few small crumbs that could be of use to us, because otherwise we would have traveled here for nothing, and that would mean turning back to fucking square one. And something tells me that we can't afford to sit around waiting for Laswell to find another deep drawer from which she can conjure up another clue of dubious origin. We need the info now. And quickly.

"Let's see if they left anythin' behind." Riley suggests, and with a confident movement, opens the door leading to the lab, which squeals under the man's palm as it glides across the ground, probably fallen apart from the violent entrance of the previous enthusiastic wanderer, getting stuck in the flagstone protruding from the floor. And as the entry to the lab opens in front of us, we are welcomed by the same unflinching, nerve-wrackingly peaceful stillness that has accompanied us until now, and which has caused us nothing but unpleasant moments. And now I have ingrained it in my consciousness that this deceptively monotonous nothingness is synonymous with trouble and deeply buried, sneaky little mysteries.

The Hunter crosses the doorway of the lab first, and I follow him into the small room, which could have functioned as a kind of vestibule, based on the cabinets lined up against the wall and the control panel that rests unharmed in one of the narrow corners. From the monitors shrouded in lifeless darkness above the many buttons, only our dim figure and the Hunter's gaze burning in crimson are reflected, as if we were the ghosts that returned to haunt among the remains of murder and destruction. However, my attention is soon caught by the faint, greenish light flickering from one of the machines on the table, which is the only proof that whatever is being operated down here is still very much working, and is just waiting to be turned on by someone. And it seems that Riley also noticed this small detail, because after scanning through the area, he turns around and heads towards the multitude of gadgets.

"It still works." Riley observes, and judging by his tone, he also finds it a little interesting that the intruders were willing to harm everything else, but they left this little corner so untouched and intact, as if it had performed some very insignificant task. Or on the contrary. They didn't touch it because those machines are responsible for something very damn important. And as the Hunter settles next to the control panel, he slips his gun onto its sling and starts to work with rutin movements, presumably to breathe life into the devices.

I let the man play with his newly found toys, and I divert my scrutinizing gaze to see if I can still find something that might be of interest to us. I head towards the new door opening from the small room, and at this point, I seriously start cursing the doc, who turned this wretched building into such a complicated maze. It's as if he wanted to hide more and more excitement for those interested behind each entrance, although I suspect that there is a much more practical reason behind why he wanted to make his humble abode so bombproof. And interest immediately flares up in my brain, which leads my pretty little body to the doorstep of the battered entrance, next to which a broken fingerprint reader panel lets me know that this thick steel plate is meant to hide something very important from the outside world. This fills me with demanding sparks of curiosity, which makes me sneak closer with soft steps like a cat spying on a small mouse, and then, straining against the large door, I open a gap for myself to venture into the hidden recesses of the foreign place. As soon as I cross the threshold, I arrive at a long corridor, on the sides of which glass walls reach up high, located at an unusually regular distance from each other, and they are easily recognized by my clever little eyes, as the flickering lights of the security cameras resting on the ceiling are refracted on their surface. And this is such a strange detail that my body moves almost by itself to creep closer to the glass closest to me, and the fact that all the security cameras stand guard facing the walls of the corridor doesn't escape my attention. Because it makes it quite clear that whatever lurks on the other side is important enough to require a dozen artificial eyes to watch over.

And in spite of my sharp eyes, when I get to the very first glass wall, even I can't make out what might be hiding behind it. That's why I slowly stalk closer, and every fiber of me slowly fills with an instinctive tension full of anticipation, which reminds me again of the horror movies that I secretly watched in the privacy of my room under the cover of the night. And although I wanted to seem like a tough girl, when I was waiting for the danger hiding in the terrible silence to appear on the screen, all my nerves were on edge in exact the same way as they are now. As if my body wanted to prepare me for something terrible to occur, and the restless tension gripping my stomach infuses me with stress well in advance, so that when the worst happens, I can take flight immediately. I hear the steady rhythm of my pulse pounding in my ears as I slowly stop just a step away from the wall. However, the unsettling emptiness that lies on the other side doesn't become more visible, and smoothing my palm on the cold, flat surface, I lean closer to narrow my eyes and try to peek in, but I find nothing but a pitch-black, uninhabited room.

And for a fleeting moment, a shapeless spot seems to move in the back of the room, but before I can make out what it is, the shadow takes over the task of greeting me, and a huge body crashes against the glass wall so unexpectedly that I don't have time to comprehend it. The scream that breaks out of me is instinctive, as I stumble back in alarm, and I feel my heart begin to thump in my chest, and I'm afraid it might burst out of my ribs at any moment. The hard metal of my pistol presses painfully into my palm, but my shocked body cannot force my hand to move, so I just stare with wide eyes at the mouth full of needle-sharp teeth slowly appearing in front of me, which is desperately trying to press its jaws against the smooth surface of the glass. And when a hand grabs my shoulder out of nowhere, I only shriek pathetically, helplessly obeying the hasty force that is pulling me behind the sturdy figure that steps in front of me. Although it takes a few fleeting seconds, I understand that Riley is the one who rushed to my rescue and dragged me behind him, and a shaky sigh leaves my lips as my body slowly calms down after the goddamn surprise. And when I have recollected my composure enough to assess the way the man is standing between the I.M.L. on the other side of the glass and me, then the icy fingers closing around my stomach release their grasp, so that my belly can flutter with a completely different kind of sensation, as I take in how protectively he towers above me.

"You okay?" Comes the question from the Hunter, and his glowing red eyes look at me for a moment as he glances back, and I don't think I'm imagining the wrathful gleam in them. But when his shoulders slowly let go of the tension in them, as he lowers his gun, when he assesses that I have no major problems other than a heart attack, then I know that the aggression with which he stormed in here is much more for a mutant imprisoned in a dark hole than me. And the knowledge that I was able to instill worry in the soul of this gruff man suppresses the shame that scratches my insides, because I screamed to the world with the enthusiasm of a young schoolgirl, that I fell into an amateur mistake and allowed myself to be spooked.

"Yeah. I think." I breathe, and my voice sounds miserably weak even to my own ears, and with the power of the combined work of every single nerve fiber, I finally manage to pull myself together and drive away the last grain of terror that has settled in my body. "This asshole surprised me." I clear my throat, pointing my pistol towards the glass wall, where, upon seeing the two luscious snacks, the deformed creature, perhaps resembling a combination of a wolf and a bobcat, starts a desperate struggle with its huge paws, and strikes again and again with dull thuds on the probably unbreakable glass. At least the doc had enough sense not to be cheap on this, even if he didn't have two connecting brain cells to realize that it wasn't the best idea to throw live beasts where dozens of people spend their daily lives.

"What an I.M.L. is doin' here?" The masked man asks as he steps back from the cell to take a closer look at the captive beast. And from the fact that its grotesque body, swollen with muscles, looks more like an experiment made up of several predators than a well-definable late mammal, I can conclude that this monster can be at least a fourth-generation specimen. This swine wasn't created by the virus through a bite, but by a long line of reproduction between mutants, and it could have a very remarkable family tree if such a behemoth could have been put together by its deformed ancestors. Why did Alviar need such a dangerous bastard?

"It might have something to do with what Alviar was working with." I come to the logical conclusion, because I doubt that he wanted to admire the reproduction of mutants with this monster. He could have done that with the help of a dead individual which a Hunter had previously made safe by depriving the wretch of his life. But my colleague needed the test subject alive, and this raises a series of disturbing assumptions in my head, which immediately encourages me to dig deeper. I hurriedly move my eyes along the corridor, and when I see the double door at the end, it becomes quite obvious where our path leads next. "That's where the lab might be, maybe we'll find out what the hell is going on here." I direct the Hunter's attention to my discovery, and without any further prompting, he turns to spy on what my clever little eyes have come across.

"Then we'd better take a look at it." Riley gives his blessing to our next target, glancing down at me expectantly, and I take one last look at the mutant who presses its foaming mouth to the glass trying to overcome the obstacle in front of it in its frenzied hunger, and for a minute I almost feel sorry for the scum. But I quickly get rid of my sympathy, because I know that if this heavy-duty surface were not standing between us, then without further ado, it would taste the delicacy that has slipped here in my pretty person. However, one thing becomes quite obvious as I turn away to walk down the dim corridor with the Hunter following me closely on our journey like a watchful shadow. In the dozens of glass cages spread out next to us, impressively developed I.M.L.s found a lonely little home, who, following the hysteria of their little friend, bravely ventured out of the hidden corners of their cells to see with their own eyes what caused such an uproar. Although outwardly they all display a wide repertoire of deformities, and no two deformed beasts are the same, but every one of them strains against the glass walls in peak condition, with a tangible aggression in their milky white eyes, and it's probably their two weeks of fasting that makes them so wildly enthusiastic. Alviar collected a whole zoo of mutants for himself, which required the help of trained Hunters at best. And if Alejandro and his small team had no idea what was going on, he got help from someone else. However, tracking down and killing these bastards is by no means an easy task, but it's even more complicated to not be caught where the liquidation units of the colony conduct regular patrols. And this is just one more reason for the fact to be reinforced in my little head, which echoes, that this wouldn't have been possible without the cooperation of a much higher authority.

When we reach the entrance of the main lab, Riley steps in front of me with ease and pushes the double door with his foot with perhaps more momentum than necessary, then he enters with his assault rifle pointed forward in search of enemies. And even though I know that, being an experienced professional, he probably instinctively takes on the role, fearlessly throwing himself into the unknown to eliminate risks before they have a chance to cause harm, I can't suppress the tingle that stirs inside me. Because the delusional voice in my head tells me that in addition to the routine, maybe my charming person helped him become a protective tank. And the idea that I'm influencing the man's behavior sounds so tempting in my head that I allow this dangerous train of thought to start in my mind for a stray moment. Because maybe I want to be the reason why he scans the deserted room in front of us with such intense attention, promising a cruel death in his crimson eyes to anyone brave enough to try to strike him. And when he doesn't find a single courageous candidate in the void who would like to meet him, he just turns and walks to the wall next to the door, to after a short search, conjure blinding brightness in the room.

As the neon light flashes, I cover my eyes with my hand because the light burning my retinas blinds me for a moment, and it takes a few seconds before the white spots dancing behind my eyelids disappear, and my vision, accustomed to the darkness until now, adapt to the new conditions. And when I'm finally not in danger of going blind, I have the opportunity to admire the rampage left in the luxurious lab. The intruders didn't even try to remain unnoticed here either, and they were certainly looking for something quite important, because dozens of files are lying crumpled on the floor in front of the wide-open doors of the cabinets, and the large footprints on them reveal that whoever broke in didn't come for the documents. Shards of broken vials and flasks and the unknown liquids leaked out from them litter the spotless white surfaces on the tables that stretch throughout the lab, and drawers hang out of the furniture with hasty violence, as if someone had just enough patience to tear them open and mess up the documents resting in them. A wide array of modern equipment, the likes of which a mere mortal like me didn't have the chance to see up close within the walls of the colonies, rest somewhat unscathed in the middle of the vandalism, the only reminder that some really interesting work could have been going on in the research institution.

"They were clearly lookin' for somethin'." Riley remarks, breaking the sinister silence that has set in, as he strolls into the upheaval of the room with heavy steps, curiously separating a couple of smudged notes with his gloved hand, which are lying on one of the counters and stick to each other, soaked in the unknown spilled chemical. And the Hunter is not wrong indeed, because only those who want to find something can turn every fucking inch upside down, and the vile little voice in my head tells me that they probably succeeded.

"They probably found it." I answer gloomily, and the shards of glass strewn on the floor slide squealing under the soles of my boots, as I wander inside and carry my eyes around the lab searching for something that has at least remained a little more intact to be of use to us. And as my gaze settles on the computer resting in a hidden corner of the room, a small triumphant smile crosses my face, because it seems that fate will finally spare me and throw me a bone that might be enough to find another clue. "But maybe we have something left for us too." I grin, and with nimble steps, I set off towards my discovered prey in the crossfire of the man's intrigued gaze, with such haste as if the unfortunate electronic device were a mirage that could disappear at any moment in the cold glow of the neon lights.

And when I arrive, I start the machine in a hurry, praying to each and every entity for a few seconds and chanting mantras for it to work, and as the starting screen flashes, a relieved sigh breaks out of me, which had been stuck in my lungs until now due to stress. I hear a soft hum as the computer warms up, and as the desktop slowly loads, it occurs to me that after the labyrinth leading up to this place and the complicated security system, a device that is presumably loaded with research data is left stupidly unprotected, without even a password. Instead, I thank karma for finally deigning to smile at me, because, after the excitement of the last couple of hours, I probably would have smashed this shit to pieces if I had to engage in a long hacking attempt. And as soon as the monotonous blue background comes up, and dozens of folders cheerfully lined up next to each other appear on the screen, it becomes quite certain that we haven’t needlessly wasted our time by going on exploration in this godawful building. My hand hastily dives into my pocket, searching for my communicator, and after fishing it out, I quickly pull out the connector, and finding one of the many inputs on the computer case, I plug it into the machine. And when the small window showing the communicator's storage space pops up, I select everything I discover to copy, because it seems that I have found a real gold mine, which I will probably be able to study with a calmer nervous system within the peaceful walls of the unit's base. And while the little device is working, I immerse myself completely in decoding the sonorous Spanish names of the folders, and I only faintly perceive the sound of footsteps and then a door opening, because, in the middle of my little research, something quite interesting catches my attention, as my sharp little eyes settle on the on one of the yellow icons.

Because even with my poor language skills, I can decipher from the "I.H.L." phrase in the title that something quite juicy may be lurking there. Without delay, I click on the folder, and dozens of files appear in the pop-up window, under each of which lies a seemingly unordered series of numbers and letters. And it doesn't take much logic to figure out that random numbers might mark dates, which makes me assume that I might have found the carefully arranged notes of an examination log. But, when I scroll further down and names appear, I'm overcome with confusion, because the uncomfortable question arises in me, that what could human names be doing among the carefully recorded documentation of observations. And because of this, I start opening the files with frenzied speed, and the more windows that appear, the more the puzzlement that settles inside me deepens, because to my disappointment, each and every document contains nothing interesting except the profile pictures and personal data. However, when I see a photo of a man wearing a uniform similar to the guards here, I freeze in shock in the midst of my busy search. For a moment, I fear that my eyes are playing a cruel game with me, but when, leaning closer, I identify with full confidence the eerily familiar tattoo that begins on the line of the guy's neck emerging from his clothes, then the realization hits me with such speed that my brain doesn't get a spark for a second. Because the exact same tattoo is staring back at me, this time from the unknown guard, as what I so cleverly discovered in Laswell's report on the capture of the F.H.L.. And the wild assumption that Alviar hid in the middle of fucking nowhere in order to breed a new kind of humanoid mutant with his own hands, makes my stomach drop nervously and causes terror to enter my every cell with an elemental force. But why?

"Woods! You need to see this!" Riley's shout tears me out from the thousands of ominous explanations swirling in his head, and I wake up from my shock startled, to turn to look for the source of his urgent, deep voice. And when I discover the silhouette of the man through the door opening from the other end of the lab, then, guided by the stress hormones creeping into my limbs, I turn my back on the dubious data and the communicator which is still working diligently, to rush through the chaos of the lab, driven by the momentum of the nervousness moving into my body.

When I step into the unknown room, the cool air that resides there hits me, and I quickly realize that I must have stumbled into that chamber, which was hidden in sinister anonymity on the floor plan. Both walls of the room are covered with a shiny metal surface up to the ceiling, and its continuity is interrupted by a multitude of square doors with handles on them, which gives me the feeling that I have fallen into the middle of a morgue. And when I find Riley standing in front of one of the open doors, I already know that I wasn't wrong, because in front of him on a long metal tray is a naked body lying as lifeless as a grotesque wax figure. And as I take a few cautious steps closer and more and more details are revealed to me, I realize that the unnatural paleness that runs along the unknown human form is much more familiar than I feel comfortable admitting. I stand next to my masked companion in silent astonishment, and with ever-increasing shock, I measure the almost translucent skin, under which, even in the state of rigor mortis, the muscles that used to swell with strength stretch clearly. But it worries me much more when I discover that I'm not looking at the corpse of a deceased Hunter preserved in an amazing condition, because although it's not nearly as deformed as many of its friends, it would be impossible to mistake the sharp teeth in the mouth opened in an eternal roar, or the worldless white eyes, which are characteristic of only one species according to our current knowledge. And my brain gets short-circuited for a minute, as I realize that the humanoid mutant, that we have just come across and the like of which I have never seen before, is a more advanced lifeform than our mutant-riding friend we met in the city, even solely based on its physical characteristics. When I break away from the unsettling sight to look around the room again, I realize that judging by the dozens of doors, this newcomer is probably not the only one hiding within the institution's walls.

And as my gaze connects with the Riley's, I discover the same dark foreboding in the now chocolate-colored eyes, which also sit in my skull like a slimy parasite. Alviar tried to play god, and whatever he used to create these monstrosities, whoever turned the institution into a slaughterhouse, in order to find it, took it and is long gone. Fuck.

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