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prince-rowan-of-the-forest · 23 days

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Arctic Wolf (1/2)

Virgil had never really thought that he would end up in the Hunger Games.

When he does, he never thought he would come out of it alive.

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| Ao3 | Next ->

| Art of Virgil |

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!! Rated Mature for graphic deptictions of violence !!

Warnings: Death, Government mandated murder, Weapons, Virgil is an orphan street rat and 14 (just stating incase that bothers people), Talk about potential starvation, dehydration and animal attacks, General anxiety.

Pairings: none

Word Count: 3511

Notes:

HELLO!!

So excited to be posting the first part of this fic!! I've been working on it for a little while. I absolutely love this au I've made with @sleepy-nova-tea - it's so awesome :3

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Virgil had never really thought that he would end up in the Hunger Games.

It’s not like he thought he was immune or above anyone or anything, but he was young - only fourteen - and his name was only in the reaping four times. With no family to provide for, he only needed the tesserae offered for himself, he was in a good position not to be picked when he knew there were others who had their names in forty-odd times.

That’s why he thought it was just a little bit unfair when they called out his name.

No-one volunteered, of course, he didn’t expect them to - why would they? It was a death sentence. All he got were a few sympathetic looks from the people in the crowd who knew him.

At least there was no-one here who would really remember him.

An orphan with no family or friends to speak of - a few people who could afford to give him food every so often knew who he was, but aside from that… Well. He was glad it was him if the alternative was someone who would leave people behind.

—-

The female tribute from his district was someone he didn’t know, nor was she someone he was interested in knowing. He was going to be dead soon anyway, it didn’t matter if they made friends, in fact, it would only hurt more if they were.

Their stay in the Capitol went too quickly and too slowly all at once. Living like kings before they would be sent to the slaughter. It was backhanded and cruel in Virgil’s mind, showing him everything he had ever wanted back home - a warm bed, plentiful food, clean clothes - for such a short time before shoving him into whatever cruel arena they had thought up this year.

Training was difficult, it gave him a chance to see how the other tribute’s skills compared to his (every single one beating him out by a landslide). There was no way he would be winning this game through combat that was for sure. He saw the girl from two throw a spear with accuracy he couldn’t imagine, he saw the boy from four throwing knives. Everyone seemed to be prioritising combat. Virgil knew he would never win that way, which meant he would have to focus on something else.

So, Virgil spent all his days training working on survival skills. Learning how to build fires, find shelter, catch food and make natural remedies he could make in his time of need. A lot of the other tributes looked at him like he was dead meat, the first up on the chopping block, he probably was.

Virgil was weak, malnourished, spider limbed and quiet, he hadn’t touched a single weapon the entire time they were here and he never once talked to another tribute. What he had done was memorise the plants to look out for, looked for hints in the training exercise as to what the arena might entail so he could better prepare and he had made a point to ask the capitol staff running the training for help and tips - it wasn’t something he had seen anyone else doing aside from those looking to spar, he just hoped that maybe it would be helpful.

He didn’t talk to anyone during lunch, he didn’t talk to anyone during training, and he certainly didn’t talk to anyone any other time. If he was going to win this game, his only chance was alone. Not that he thought he would, but hey, he may as well try. Besides, that was how he had been all his life.

During his examination, Virgil showcased his knowledge of poisonous plants and insects. Sure, it wasn’t throwing knives or spears or anything showy or impressive, but it was all he got.

In the end, he would be going in with a score of five, which, looking on the bright side, made him far less of a target for the careers than some of the higher scoring tributes.

—-

“Virgil Helio, from district eight!” Announced Caesar after his little introduction spiel that Virgil hadn’t paid attention too, and suddenly Virgil was being pushed forward onto the stage by a peacekeeper. He almost tripped over the long cloak his stylist had dressed him in as he climbed the stairs and took his seat. The crowd was cheering - so many people were sitting here, watching, they had come to see the tributes and Virgil could already feel himself freezing up as they went quiet.

“-Seem a little nervous?”

Virgil only caught the tail end of that statement, but he could guess what Caeser was asking, “Uh- yeah, kinda,” he admitted, “Just- give me a second.”

Taking a deep breath in to steady himself, Virgil closed his eyes and let it out slowly, “Okay, I’m ready.”

Virgil answered the questions almost in a daze. He was asked about his time in district eight, how it felt to be the youngest tribute in the arena, his strengths and weaknesses. He answered them all as though from behind a wall - he heard his own voice like it was distant, that was the only way he felt he could keep it together for the whole interview.

“So, you’re skilled in finding shelter and catching food,” Caesar said as Virgil finished answering the last question, “So what kind of arena are you hoping for?”

“Well - I guess something with forested areas? Trees are great shelter, and there’s more places to hide,” Virgil said, he didn’t want to reveal all of his plans, “I’m not a fighter.”

—-

It was cold.

As Virgil rose up on that podium wind whipped his face, icy air ripping into his exposed cheeks. The clothes he had been given to wear into the area were thick and thermal and now he could see why. The entire arena was covered in a blanket of snow, not a single patch of grass to be seen as Virgil looked around.

The countdown thrummed in his ears, the loud voice counting down making his heart race quicker with every number. A glance around the circle of tributes had Virgil realising that this was about to be a bloodbath. The careers looked downright bloodthirsty, half the others looked determined, one or two looked scared like him. One of the careers glanced in his direction and Virgil could already tell he was done for.

The cornucopia would be a bloodbath, even if there were valuable supplies, there was no need for him to go for them if he was dead. What he did see as the timer ticked down to zero was a backpack and supplies not too far from his podium. If he could grab them and run into the pines behind him he would be set - well, that did depend on what was in the bag, but at least he wouldn’t be dead.

With the sound of the gong ringing in his ears, Virgil sprinted.

He was one of the first of the tributes off of their podiums, and he had snatched up the bag he had seen before any of them had even reached a weapon. Running for the treeline he also paused to grab what looked like a thermal blanket before darting back past the podiums and towards the tree line - tall pines covered in snow and ice just waiting to fall. He was just glad that the weather was looking clear for now. Who knew how quickly that would change.

Just as he reached the treeline, Virgil heard what sounded like an arrow whistle past him and ducked to the side, the metal arrow thudded into a tree trunk, and Virgil glanced back before running over and yanking it back out. It wasn’t as good as a knife or a sword, but a weapon was a weapon, at least he had one.

Finding a cave was easy. Finding a good cave was the hard part.

It turned out that the arena was covered in holes, there were nooks and crannies and places to hide everywhere. Half of them had animals in them - he could tell by nearby damaged branches and tousled shrubbery as well as tracks in the snow. Virgil was not taking his chances with a wolf or a lynx, let alone some kind of mutt.

He wandered for what must have been at least a few hours, only coming across one other tribute in that time. Hissing at her seemed to have scared her off though, so Virgil had been safe enough for now.

As he walked he mentally mapped out the arena. The cornucopia had been in a clearing, trees on all sides. To the north he came across a huge basin. He’d spotted a few caves in the dipping terrain, but they weren’t worth it. There was no tree cover there and besides, he’d freeze to death before the next dawn. There was a frozen river further west, behind which seemed to be more clifflike terrain. Virgil wouldn’t risk climbing it for now. In an emergency, he knew he could, but he didn’t want to risk falling and breaking his neck for potentially no reward this early on. No. Careful to pick the part of the river where the ice should be thickest, Virgil made his way across and began to search along the rocky cliffs for caves. It would make sense for caves to form along here and eventually he found the jackpot. A cave with a small entrance he had to crawl through, pretty hidden by the rocks and with a tiny freshwater stream that travelled from under the ice it seemed. It was perfect for a home base.

In the backpack he had grabbed there was some rope, a few matches, and a pouch that he could attach to his belt to hold a weapon he didn’t have. Well - he had his arrow, but that wouldn’t fit, it was meant for a knife or dagger. He was sure he could find some kind of use for it regardless.

The biggest glaring issue Virgil faced was that he had no food. In fact, looking at it critically as he tried to fall asleep that night, wrapped up in the insulating blanket he was incredibly grateful he had grabbed, Virgil was food. Every time he risked leaving his cave he risked being attacked by some kind of predator, something that needed to eat just like him. It was highly doubtful that there would be anything to hunt out here either. Maybe there would be a few plants he could grab, worst come to worst he could eat the pine needles off of the trees, but really if he wanted to stay alive he would have to find something better.

The only place he could get something better was the cornucopia - or the other tributes. The careers were probably guarding the cornucopia and all of its supplies. He was lucky to have a freshwater supply, but he wouldn’t last another day without something to eat.

He fell asleep last night after listening to the cannons - seven fallen tributes on the first day. Well, at least Virgil wasn’t out last.

The next morning he woke up to an empty stomach. With a soft groan he sat up, his blanket still wrapped snugly around him and for a few seconds was reminded of home during the winter.

Trying so hard to think of the positives, Virgil decided that at least that meant he was familiar with this part. Being hungry, waking up from a cold night, sleeping on the ground. The thermal blanket might actually be an upgrade, but at least at home he didn’t have sixteen possibly armed teenagers after him.

He heard a howling wolf followed by a cannon shot in the distance. Fifteen, he thought. At least his fears of the arena wildlife weren’t unfounded.

It was still early, though, and the sun wasn’t quite up yet. Virgil was used to rising before dawn, but this seemed different. He felt like the sun should be up by now if his body clock was anything to go by. He supposed though if this arena was mimicking winter it would reflect that with longer nights and shorter days.

Going now would make it easier to stay hidden from other tributes, but it also made him a sitting duck for any creature out there looking for a quick snack.

He weighed up his options and eventually - arrow held tightly in hand and bag on his back - crept out of the cave. So long as he was quiet maybe he wouldn’t be noticed.

There was little trouble as Virgil reached the clearing that housed the cornucopia. He felt lucky to have not come across any wild animals on his trek through the snow. Now he crouched behind a tree watching. The sky was starting to get lighter by now, and there was a fire crackling in the mouth of the cornucopia, around which five tributes sat. Two from district one, one from two, and two from four. Virgil took a few deep breaths to calm his nerves, he had to think rationally about this or he’d never get anything done.

Virgil could see where all the supplies were stored - behind them inside the cornucopia. He guessed it was to protect them from the worst of the cold. There’s no way he could grab it like this with them all there, they’d see him in an instant in the black clothing they’d been given for the arena, he’d stick out like a sore thumb if he left the trees. Waiting for them to leave would be his best bet, but who knows how long that would be, and he was vulnerable here - maybe he could draw them away somehow…

“Psst-” He heard behind him, causing him to whip around, clutching his arrow in his hand he scanned the area until his eyes caught on a girl with short black hair peeking out from behind a nearby tree. Vaguely he recognised her as the girl he had hissed at on the first day - he thought she might be from Three, but he hadn’t paid enough attention to the others to know her name. She made a gesture for him to come over - Virgil just frowned and gripped his arrow tighter - he couldn’t trust anyone here. The girl frowned, holding up her hands in a surrender, before gesturing with her chin behind her. She clearly wanted to talk, but they couldn’t do it here with the careers so close by. Eventually Virgil sighed and nodded, carefully making his way over to her. He was lucky, he supposed. She could have killed him easily as she led him a little further into the trees - a safe enough distance away to talk.

“Sorry for scaring you,” she whispered once they were far enough away.

“Sorry for hissing at you,” Virgil returned with a shrug, “You’re um - you’re from Three, right?”

“Mhm - My name’s Bug Scintilla - You’re Virgil, from Eight,” she said, holding out a hand for him to shake - he did so hesitantly with a small nod, “Great - you’re looking to go after their stuff, right?”

Another nod, she smiled.

“Not the talking type?”

Virgil shrugged with a small smile, “Not really.”

“Well good, I talk a lot,” she said, “Now - guess you’re looking for food, right? That’s why I’m here too, there’s nothing good to eat in the rest of the arena unless you’re able to kill a wolf which, no offence, you look really scrawny and your only weapon is an arrow.”

He shrugged again - she was right.

“So, d’you have a plan?”

“I was in the middle of making one,” He said, shaking his head, looking back in the direction of the clearing, she sighed.

“Okay, I’ve got an idea,” She said, beginning to draw a map of the clearing in the snow, Virgil sat down with her and looked, “Did you see where they had everything?”

“The supplies are all piled up in the cornucopia,” Virgil added, pointing to the map, she nodded, adding a cross, “So we gotta draw them away…”

For a while, they went back and forth on the best ways to do it, lighting a fire, making a lot of noise - noise might draw some of the wild animals in the arena, and if the careers were killed by them whilst looking for the source then Virgil certainly wouldn’t be too upset.

“Are you sure you could get away, though?” He asked, tilting his head.

“Mhm - I’m good at climbing and the trees here are pretty tightly packed, I can get away that way,” She said, “You can sneak in from behind the cornucopia - they’ll leave a lookout, but you’re small and I saw how stealthy you were back in training, I think you can do it.”

Virgil nodded slowly, “Okay, right.”

“And make sure you’re fast too, we don’t know how long they’ll be distracted for and I don’t want you to get caught.”

Virgil nodded, “You know the river on the west side?” he said, she nodded, “We can meet there afterwards - I guess if we don’t make it there by sundown we can assume…”

“The cannons will tell anyway,” she shook her head, “But good plan - let's head out - we want this done before we starve, and hey - if you see anything else useful you can grab - no harm in having more, right?”

Virgil nodded yet again. There were so many things that could go wrong with this plan, neither of them were guaranteed safety or results, but he supposed they would both die either way if they didn’t try. At least if they went for it they would have some kind of chance.

After a moment of hesitance, Bug pulled him in for a hug. Virgil had never been a touchy person, and this certainly startled him, but he still put his arms around her in return. “In case we don’t make it back,” she says, quietly, before hurrying away into the trees.

Taking a deep breath, Virgil made his way in the other direction, keeping his fingers crossed that he wouldn’t come across any animals or other tributes as he made his way around the treeline until he was facing the back of the cornucopia. Once he had made it, he crouched in the shrubbery to wait.

The plan had gone smoothly right up until Virgil was trying to leave the cornucopia.

He had managed to find two bags and stuff them full of food and supplies, he’d grabbed a couple of weapons, and a flask of water for them both too. He’d stolen as much as he could fit in the two bags before hefting one onto his shoulders and making his way out only to see the careers making their way back across the clearing.

Virgil panicked, snatching a knife from a nearby pile of weapons so that he had something in his hand and attempting to slip out of the cornucopia. Yelling behind him let him know that he had been unsuccessful. He ran, but they were gaining on him. The other careers had been at the other side of the clearing, but the district four guy they had left behind - a big, muscled guy who must be on the older end of the scale - was right behind him.

Virgil turned, and in some vain hope, threw the knife.

It landed with a dull thud in the poor guy’s abdomen, for a moment the world slowed and Virgil just stood there as the guy stopped, blood poured from around the knife, soaking into his clothes as he reached to pull it out. Virgil almost told him not to, but then he wanted this guy to die, didn’t he? Seeing the crimson splatter into the snow beneath them seemed to trip a switch in Virgil’s mind and he scrambled to keep running. He kept running even when he reached the trees, waving a path that he hoped wouldn’t be easily followed.

Once he was sure he had lost them, he leaned over, bracing himself on a tree, and tried not to throw up when he heard the cannon shot in the distance. He had just killed someone.

He stayed there for a long while, crouched next to a tree and heaving - doing his best to keep his insides inside of him as he attempted to calm down the raging panic inside him. He counted in his head as he took deep breaths, trying to even out his intake of air and calm his mind. He had just killed another human being, if he hadn’t killed that boy then he’d be dead himself. It’s kill or be killed in this arena. Odds had nothing to do with it.

Virgil stood, clutching the two bags he had grabbed tightly and began making his way back to the river. It didn’t make up for taking a human life, even in this situation, Virgil couldn’t justify it, but at least he had something to show for it.

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Tags: @full-of-roman-angst-trash @your-local-random-dino @cutebisexualmess @glacierruler @roseianxiety @bella-bugatti-frogetti-baguetti @scalesfeathersnfur @oatmeal-stans-the-trash-rat @littlerat2 @goldnskyart (if anyone wants to be added, let me know!)

#sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #virgil sanders #ts virgil #tss virgil #tss fanfic #ts fanfic #sanders sides au #the hunger games au

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unityrain24 · 1 year

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Reassignment

Partway through Loki’s assignment to retrieve the Tesseract from Midgard, he gets a message from the Black Order to withdraw for reassignment. The Reality Stone (the Æther) had reappeared, and Thanos wanted to divert all forces towards this, as it would be much harder to obtain. The tesseract would be easy enough, it could wait. But what does this mean for all the Avengers who were present for this message to Loki? (for this fic, Thor met and teamed up with the Avengers before this, rather than during the plane ride after).

Tags/More Info & Wattpad Link under Cut

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies). Thor (Movies)

Archive Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Deptictions of Violence, Major Character Death

Rating: Teen Audiences & Up

Category: Gen

Relationships: Avengers Team & Loki, Loki & Thanos

Characters: Loki, Thor, Steve Rogers, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, Thanos, The Other

Additional Tags: The Avengers 2012, Infinity Stones, The Chitauri Scepter, Everybody Dies, (well almost everybody), Mind Control, Loss of Free Will, Stuttgart Germany, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Torture, Implied/Referenced Suicide Attempt, The Black Order, Battle of New York, i tagged this as graphic descriptions of violence but its not actually graphic at all, it was more of a just in case?, because it seems so subjective, violence, non-graphic violence, maybe? again subjective, No Happy Ending, angst,

wattpad link if you don't use ao3

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hydrasaura · 4 months

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I still sometimes am amazed at how a manga like Berserk so edgy, dark, brutal, full of graphic deptictions of torture and violence, constant r*pe and r*pe attempts, mental breakdowns and insanity, proved to be one of the best pieces of media that I've ever read.

#like HOW #there were 2 pannels that i legit had to skip because the torture chambers were drawn and yes it was that graphic #by all means this manga should have been something i should've despised especially as a woman #but it was so damn good

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benchtrio-updates · 3 years

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Layers of Fear Trigger Warnings

For more detailed and specific trigger warnings, check out: Does the Dog Die?. Some of these warnings are only applicable to certain player choices.

Warnings under the cut!

- Violence

- Depictions of mental illness

- Depictions of gaslighting/abuse/manipulation

- Mentions of suicide

- Flashing imagery

- Disturbing imagery

- Jumpscares (Vocal audio cues, visual jumpscares.)

- Blood

- Gore (Audio and visual.)

- Death

- Deptictions of alcoholism

- Profanity

- Quickly changing and distorted environments

- Implications of torture

- Child death

- Shaky camera work

- Mentions/depictions of child neglect/abuse

#layers of fear #mcyt #dsmp #dream smp #ranboo #ranboolive

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specialofficerlemons · 2 years

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Do Not Covet

Fandom: Outlast: Whistleblower

Summary: Waylon convinces Eddie to try and escape Mount Massive with him, but there is someone waiting for them in the lobby that Waylon hoped to never see again.

Rating: E

Warnings: Rape/Non-con, major character death, graphic deptictions of violence (seriously, dead dove do not eat)

Pairing: Eddie Gluskin/Waylon Park, Jeremy Blaire/Waylon Park

Notes: This is really dark so please mind the warnings and take care of yourself. Also the timing doesn't totally work out so just don't think about it too hard lol

Word Count: 4429

Waylon could name a million times in his life he felt safer than he did now, but in the past month? This was definitely the safest he had felt by a long shot. He walked in step behind Eddie, holding onto his belt as they had agreed he would be best at defending them with both hands, but they didn't want to be separated under any circumstances. Whenever they paused in doorways and Eddie checked to make sure the coast was clear, Waylon would bury his face into his back for comfort, taking in his heat and his smell. Eddie was his protector, Eddie was his caretaker, Eddie would be there for him, Eddie loved him. And as much as he tried to smother that crazy, genuinely crazy part of his mind, he could feel himself starting to love Eddie- the possessive touches, the soft ones, the rough ones, the reassuring ones, the ones seeking reassurance. He owed Eddie his life. He belonged to him. He was his bride

"Is that…is that really it?" Waylon asked, peeking around his protector. "I've never seen the front door."

The lobby was littered with corpses and body parts of people who almost made it, but Waylon didn't see any of that, he just saw daylight. He tugged on his husband's shirt, anxious to get out now that it was so close.

"Careful darling, we're not out of the woods yet," Eddie warned, wisely.

"Eddie, it's right there, please, we're almost free! Think about the possibilities!" He stepped around the bigger man and tugged him forward out of the relative safety of the doorway. "We-we could start a family and have a home! A h-home with a white picket fence and a garden and a yard where the kids could play!" He twirled back to look at his beloved, his new dress flaring up around him. He kept talking as he guided Eddie further and further into the lobby towards the door as he was clearly uncomfortably with such an open space. "You-you could have a studio where you could do your sewing, o-or you could open up your own shop! And when you're done at the end of the day you could come home and I would have dinner all prepared for you and act like a proper wife should treat her husband," This part he said quietly, pressed against Eddie's front.

They were so close to the door, so close to freedom.

"W-Waylon Park?"

Waylon's blood ran cold. He was frozen as Eddie dashed around him, brandishing his blade.

There was a rattle of a laugh that Waylon refused to believe in. But he couldn't let his freedom be stolen like this. He slowly turned around and sure enough, one of the corpses wasn't a corpse. It was on track to be, certainly, judging by the wound in its gut. "No…" he whispered.

"Waylon…" Eddie growled. "Have you been seeing another man behind my back?"

Waylon could have laughed if he weren't terrified. "No, sweetie, no!" he immediately tried to soothe, rubbing one hand along Eddie's back, but Eddie turned towards him with the blade and he recoiled. "He was my b-boss! At my job!"

Eddie sneered. "Your pimp?" he offered, half humorously. The disgust was evident in the curl of his upper lip. "I know exactly what women get up to with their managers!"

"Dear, I promise it wasn't like that!"

"Well, it was a little like that."

Waylon's jaw dropped and both he and Eddie turned to stare at the man sitting on the floor. Waylon realized with horror what Jeremy Blaire was about to do.

Eddie looked back at Waylon with fire in his eyes.

"Don't you remember those long, late nights in the lab or when I would call you into my office privately?" Jeremy Blaire asked with a sick smile.

While Waylon had worked a number of all-nighters and crunch shifts, Jeremy Blaire was rarely, if ever seen in his department. And when he was called into the man's office it was just to curse and spit at him.

Eddie lunged at Waylon and wrapped on large hand around his throat. "Whore!" he shouted accusatorily. He lifted Waylon up and with one strong swing of his arm threw him to the ground by Jeremy Blaire's slouched form.

"Well aren't a sight for sore eyes," the man spat at him. As much as he was clearly trying to anger Eddie, his anger towards Waylon was just underneath the thin veneer of deceit.

Waylon scrabbled towards to the inmate. "Eddie, he's lying- you mustn't believe him!" Suddenly a hand wrapped around one of his ankles and yanked him back. Waylon screamed in pain as his injured leg was pulled on.

Jeremy laughed, his breath wheezing and rattling. "What the hell are you wearing? Why are you wearing a dress?"

Eddie briefly reacted, making an aborted motion to lunge at Jeremy when he saw him lay hands on Waylon, then paused and watched what he was doing. "You filthy bitch!" he spat. "You just love his hands on you, don't you? You're not even fighting back!"

Waylon gaped. "Eddie, he's hurting me!"

"I thought you were different!" Eddie continued. "I thought you were a good woman, a moral woman! I thought you were too easy for me but I told myself you were so excited to consummate our marriage. How wrong I was! You'll spread your legs for any man who looks your way, won't you?"

Waylon was shaking his head as Eddie continued to rave about Waylon's perceived infidelities. "No, Eddie, no!"

"Is that why you were so eager to get here? You wanted to reunite with your old flame? Well don't let me get in the way! Go on!" He gestured towards them.

"Eddie you can't be serio-"

He was cut off by Jeremy Blaire pulling him closer, pulling him up by the back of his dress and planting a kiss right on his lips. When the man pulled back, Waylon stared at him in silent shock. "Missed you babe," was all he had to say.

After a moment, he snapped out of his reverie and turned to Eddie who had sunk down into a squat to watch them more closely. "Eddie you have to believe me! I've never kissed this man before in my life!" He tried to pull out of Jeremy's grip when he felt something sharp poke into his abdomen. He looked down and saw the shard of glass Jeremy clutched, poised to sink into his midsection.

"I recommend you stay right where you are, sweetie," Jeremy hissed in his ear.

"Eddie, please!" he gasped out.

"Wow, Park, this dress, uh, really," he had to stop to snort a laugh, "it really accentuates your curves," he finished sarcastically.

Waylon glared at him, but couldn't speak the words he had in his mind in defense of his beautiful dress that he loved that Eddie made for him.

"I wonder what other new goodies you're wearing…" Jeremy purred before flipping up his skirt and exposing the naughty panties Eddie had made for him.

Still afraid of the blade, Waylon was afraid to do more than plunge a hand in between his legs to cover himself, but his attempts at trying to woo Eddie back to him renewed. "Eddie! Help me! Please! Don't let him touch me anymore!"

"Wow!" Jeremy laughed and snapped the waistband of the panties. "Maybe your new boyfriend's right, maybe you are a slut, dressed like that." Jeremy passed his blade into the other hand so he could manhandle Waylon into a position where he was sitting in between his legs. He pressed his lips to Waylon's ear. "Don't you worry, Mr. Park, I'm going to take very good care of you…"

Tears spilled out of Waylon's eyes. Surely the glass blade was now visible, surely it was obvious that he was being held under duress, so why was Eddie only watching, stone faced, toying with his own blade, as Jeremy ran his hands up and down his chest.

"I can't believe I never thought of putting you in women's underwear," he muttered as if he were talking about the weather. "I mean, it's not really my thing, but the idea of you walking around the lab or the break-room with lacy panties on underneath your uniform, maybe one of those cute little bralettes, stockings even, trying to hide it under your sloppy button up and slacks. Just trying to go without being noticed…I wonder how long you would last…" As he talked he started undoing the buttons on the front of his dress. Waylon tried to push the two halves back together, but Jeremy Blaire wouldn't allow it. He jabbed the glass into Waylon's side enough for it to hurt and used his other hand to force Waylon's arms to his sides. "Be a good little dear, that's right."

Waylon found it strange that his former boss was whispering so tenderly into his ear instead of shouting and lording over him like he would normally. It wasn't like him. He realized with a sickening feeling that it was a show for Eddie to make it seem more loving than it actually was- to make him angrier.

"I can't say I'm disappointed in this turn of events. At first, when I saw you, I was disgusted," he paused to strip the upper half of the dress from his shoulders, encouraging him to pull his arms through by scraping him with the glass. "I thought, "the last thing I see before I die is Waylon fucking Park? You gotta be kidding me!" But it's really turned around." He rolled his hips against Waylon's rear for emphasis. "If I have to be miserable when I die, at least I get to go out making you miserable too!" He'd been peppering his neck with soft kisses as he spoke, but he broke his character of tender lover and sank his teeth into Waylon's neck causing him to scream in pain.

"Feel that?" he asked when he pulled his teeth out of Waylon's tender flesh. Waylon wasn't sure what he mean until he thrust his hips and he could feel the erection in the man's pants. "You, as a person, disgust me, but I'm imagining what Gluskin did to you. Tell me, did he rape you first? Or did he make you play house before he fucked you? And now, what- now you love him? It's a good thing I had you committed because it turns out you actually are crazy!" Jeremy laughed.

"Eddie please!" Waylon cried out again, desperate. He leaned as far as he could tolerate into the glass shard to escape Jeremy's fingers on his chest as they danced across it, playing with his nipples. The walls he'd built were crumbling down and his mind was incredibly fragile. "Eddie don't let him do this to me! Don't you love me? Why would you let another man touch me? I'll be ruined!"

Eddie was unmoved.

Jeremy sighed with pleasure. He pushed Waylon forward so his chest was on the floor, keeping him pinned underneath him with one arm while he used his free hand to undo his belt and his pants. "Just listen to you," he whined. "This psycho has done to you in a matter of days what I wasn't able to do to you in months. I'll have to learn his technique." He lifted the hem of Waylon's dress and used his shard of glass to slice through the waistband of his panties and Waylon renewed his efforts to get away. Jeremy wrestled him still, pinning him to the floor with the weight of his body and positioning the glass shard to his throat.

"Look at him over there," Jeremy whispered in his ear conspiratorially. Waylon did, pleading with his eyes full of tears. Eddie stared back at them, unblinking. "You haven't figured it out yet have you?" Jeremy chuckled. "He's not doing this to punish you, he's doing this because he likes it. He wants to see. He wants to see you get fucked by another man. Then he wants to punish you for it." This time he cackled and ground his pelvis against his rear. Waylon let out a sob and Jeremy let out a smear a pre-cum. "How does that make you feel, Waylon? That the man who "loves" you wants to see you get fucked by another man right in front of him? That he wants to watch you get raped?"

Waylon's mind was shattered as he was being exposed to the truth. Eddie's face was expressionless, but he had learned to read the minute details in his body language in order to survive with him. The way his chest pulled as he breathed, the way his hands danced along his blade, the way his eyes were so focused… Jeremy was right. His psyche was torn in two: one half was screaming in pain, crying out still for Eddie to come rescue him, the other half was telling him to bail on a sinking ship and latch onto the newest antagonizing rapist and give into Jeremy. He could be a good girl for Jeremy just like he was for Eddie. He could be a good girl. Maybe then he could at least trigger Eddie into attacking them and it would all be over.

"Hey! Wake up down there, shit for brains!" Jeremy growled, slapping him upside the head. "I didn't say you could go to sleep!" Waylon realized that as his mind was tearing itself apart he'd gone still and while he was no longer fighting back against Jeremy, he was also no longer being entertaining.

"You…ruin everything…" Waylon sobbed quietly into his arm.

Jeremy barked a laugh. "Well, I'm glad to hear that. Now look at your dearest while I fuck you!" Jeremy grabbed Waylon by the hair and yanked back, forcing his head up, forcing him to look at Eddie. He felt the blunt prodding of Jeremy's cock head at his asshole and closed his eyes. "I said look!" Jeremy shouted, long since abandoning pretending to be a gently lover. He pulled harder at his hair and Waylon forced his eyes open.

"Eddie, honey, don't look at me!" he pleaded softly. "Don't- I don't want you to see me like this…" He knew it was helpless. Eddie wanted to see him like this.

He screamed when Jeremy entered him. It hurt, it hurt so much. He hadn't been stretched at all, there was no lube. It couldn't even feel good for Jeremy, but he knew that feeling good wasn't the point of it for him. The point was to hurt Waylon. His fingernails he'd kept long and feminine scraped against the floor and broke. His body instinctively lurched away from Jeremy into the blade, cutting his neck. He could make out Eddie's face through the tears and he saw, quick as a flash, his tongue poke out to lick his lips.

Waylon left his body. Jeremy either didn't notice or didn't care that he went completely rigid on the floor underneath him and stopped responding.

It felt like he was back in the morphogenic engine. Really, it was possible that he never left. This could honestly all be hallucinations. Everything- the breakdown at Murkoff, running for his life, meeting Eddie- maybe this was brain cancer finally getting to him. He could see the shapes from the engine floating hazily in front of his vision. He wondered if he would wake up to attention from Andrew. That's probably where he got all these ideas, spending however many hours getting fondled and licked by that creep. Was that better than what he was going through now? Than what he'd been through?

As tears dripped from his eyes, he started to laugh. Jeremy paused in his thrusting to look at him angrily. "What's so fucking funny?" he growled through grit teeth.

Waylon didn't answer, just kept laughing.

Jeremy slapped him again. "Why the fuck are you laughing?" he shouted.

Waylon locked eyes with Eddie. He giggled and bit his lip. If they were going to paint him as a slut, he could work with that.

"Eddieee…" he called. His voice sounded like it was coming from another room, like it wasn't his own. He reached forward and gestured to Eddie, curling his finger towards him. Eddie cocked his head, curious. "Aren't you going to punish me?" he asked.

"What?" Jeremy asked, taken off guard.

Eddie seemed to mull it over before standing up to his full, intimidating height. Jeremy faltered as he approached. This was definitely not in his plan, as much as he had one. He pulled out, his cock going soft from fear. He pulled Waylon up by the hair and held the shard of glass to his neck.

"Any closer and I kill him!" he warned.

But Eddie no longer cared for Waylon's safety, so he kept coming slowly towards them.

"I'm serious!" Jeremy yelled.

"Are you gonna take that?" Waylon asked. "Are you gonna let him punish me when it should be you?"

Jeremy looked at Waylon with anger, then his expression turned to horror when he realized Eddie was upon them. Before Jeremy could slice or stab Waylon, Eddie had drawn back his foot and kicked their combined bodies, sending them both flying backwards. Waylon had the wind knocked out of him, but Jeremy already had an open wound in his gut and had it much worse. His screamed in pain and curled up in a ball.

Jeremy was effectively neutralized, so Eddie bent over Waylon and grabbed him by the hair, much like Jeremy just had, and lifted him up to his knees. He was still gasping, trying to catch his breath, but he smiled up at Eddie.

"You…" Eddie started, taking a deep breath, "have been a very bad girl…"

Waylon giggled. "I have. I have been very bad."

Eddie held his blade to Waylon's neck threateningly. "Why shouldn't I dispose of you right now, like the trash you are?" he hissed.

Waylon swallowed. "I can show you," he said carefully, "the things bad girls do."

Eddie was still and silent for an excruciating few moments before he lowered his blade and slipped it into the loop at his belt.

"Show me."

Eddie released Waylon's hair and Waylon stood on shaky legs. He had the idea that his body was sore, but he didn't really feel it. He could feel the sensation of wetness between his legs that might be blood or might be something else, but it didn't seem very important to him. Waylon clumsily gathered the two halves of his dress and put his arms in the sleeves and re-buttoned it, skipping every other button, not caring if they were in the correct holes or not.

Now that he was somewhat redressed, he started to put on a clumsy strip tease. He would lift the hem of his skirt slightly and then cover his mouth with his hand and let it drop back down, feigning modesty. He turned his back to Eddie and started to unbutton the buttons he had just done up. He would turn around a bit and turn back quickly to hide again. He slipped his arms out of his sleeves, but kept his chest covered and turned back to Eddie. He turned his hands around, his finger spread wide, mimicking a fan.

Eddie seemed to be content with allowing this circus to continue, but Jeremy was stirring from his pain and was furious.

"You freak!" he hissed. "You psycho! I was right to have you locked up! I should have raped you first and then killed you and saved myself the trouble!"

Waylon looked down at his former boss with an expression of boredom. "I think that's enough out of you," he stated, matter-of-factly. He walked over to the man, still curled up on the floor, and jammed his heel down into the gaping wound in his stomach. Jeremy cried out and clawed at Waylon's leg, jabbing the shard of glass into it, but Waylon just pressed down harder. It wasn't that he couldn't feel the pain, it was just that it didn't feel very important right now. Jeremy's grip on him grew weaker until he passed out from the pain and slumped against the ground.

Waylon knelt and pulled the shard of glass out of his leg. He looked at it curiously before looking to the unconscious body of Jeremy Blaire and jabbed the glass into his neck. Blood spurted from the wound when he pulled back, but he jabbed again and then again and eventually there was no more heartbeat to push the blood and it started to drain out of him sluggishly.

Waylon left the glass in Jeremy's neck and wiped his hands on Jeremy's suit. He looked down and saw the blood on his dress. "Oh, Eddie dear, I'm so sorry, I've made a terrible mess of the dress you made me-"

He was cut off when he felt Eddie press his body up against him from behind. He could clearly feel the erection Eddie was sporting in his pants.

"Eddie?" he asked.

Eddie spun him around and pinned his back to the floor. He was breathing very hard, almost wheezing. "That was…very naughty of you," he said. He propped himself up on one arm so he could look at Waylon properly. His chest was bare, the upper half of his dress was around his waist and he was splashed with blood. With his other hand he felt Waylon's chest, smearing the blood around. "You…are a bad girl!" When he said that, he leaned back so he could grab the lower half of his dress and rip it apart.

Waylon looked up at him blankly. "Eddie…you worked so hard on that dress…" was all he said.

Eddie slapped him across the face and then covered his mouth with his hand, now covered in Jeremy's blood. "Not…another word." Waylon was tempted to poke his tongue out and lick his hand.

Waylon was now completely naked except for the shreds of his dress and panties, his socks, and shoes.

"You know I can't abide by this kind of immoral behavior," Eddie attempted to scold, but the effect was kind of ruined by how he was rutting against Waylon's thigh.

Waylon, whose mind no longer prioritized things like survival, reached down and cupped the front of his pants. Eddie shuddered and groaned as Waylon stroked him through the fabric. Eddie leaned his forehead against the blood covered floor as Waylon pleasured him. As he stroked, Waylon's other hand crept down to the side of his pants where the loop that held his knife was and softly slipped it free. Eddie was muttering something about wanton, promiscuous women against the floor when Waylon stabbed it into his side.

Eddie screamed directly into Waylon's ear and he jerked away from the sound on instinct. Eddie reared back, but Waylon's grip held firm around the hilt of the knife and as the bigger man moved away from him it cut through his flesh, widening the wound. Eddie still had the wherewithal to draw back and land a solid right hook directly in the center of Waylon's face. Waylon was pretty sure he could feel his nose break on impact. He wondered if a shard would be driven up into his brain and kill him. He kind of hoped it would.

"You're just like all the others!" Eddie hissed as he pulled the knife from his bleeding belly. He turned it in his hands and drove it into Waylon. "I would've loved you forever!"

Waylon smiled at him and cupped his face gently. At first, Eddie flinched away from him. His scars were always sensitive. Then, he leaned into the touch. Waylon pulled him down to kiss him tenderly. "I would have loved you too," he whispered back. And with that, he jammed his fingers into the wound he had made, clawing like a wild animal. Eddie tried to pull away from him, but Waylon gripped him tightly and wrapped his legs around him as he dug through his flesh. The bigger man tried to thrash out of his grip, but Waylon just kissed him again, his teeth digging deep into his tongue until it severed it cleanly. Unsure what to do with it, Waylon swallowed. He laughed. "Now you'll always be with me!"

Eddie who had been scratching at Waylon and attempting to smash him against the floor started to grow weak. Waylon felt his fingers grasp around something solid, but jelly like and he pulled. He wasn't sure what came out of Eddie. It just looked like a wet, red lump. Eddie stopped moving and closed his eyes, slumping over just like Jeremy had, though he was still breathing. Waylon didn't stop. He reached back into Eddie and kept clawing until he found another organ and pulled. This one was long and tube shaped so he thought it might be some kind of intestine, but what did he know. He was an IT guy, not an anatomist.

This time, he didn't reach back into Eddie. His hands had started to grow cold and his head was ringing from being slammed against the floor. He realized that his other hand was still stroking Eddie through his pants and he could probably stop now. He laid still on the floor as the weight of Eddie pressed down on him. It was comforting. He could pretend it was just like when they would sleep in bed together. He closed his eyes, trying to ignore everything- all the pain, his broken nose, the tackiness of blood on his hands, the soreness of his knees from kneeling on the hard floor, the sharp smell of iron and decay from all the dead bodies that littered the lobby.

He was just about to slip into unconsciousness when he felt a cold wind blow over him. He opened his eyes weakly and saw what looked like a black cloud hovering over him. He cocked his head curiously at it. The black cloud descended over him and as he breathed in he could feel it enter his body.

The pain was erased, but he was filled with an overwhelming despair.

"I failed…" he muttered. "No one is ever going to know what happened here…"

I know he heard a voice in his head say. Now sleep.

And he did.

#outlast #my fic #nsft #eddie gluskin #waylon park #jeremy blaire #gore #rape #non-con #dead dove do not eat #brief appearance by miles/walrider/billy #ns/fw #lemon zest

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entomjinx · 3 years

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Chapters: 2/? Fandom: Fairy Tail Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Natsu Dragneel/Gray Fullbuster Characters: Natsu Dragneel, Gray Fullbuster, Erza Scarlet, Makarov Dreyar Additional Tags: slowburn, Rivals to Friends to Lovers, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Worldbuilding, Paradox, Parallel Universes, Eventual Romance, Eventual Happy Ending, Humor, Horror, Adventure, Fluff, Gratsu - Freeform, Dorks, dumb boys, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, graphic deptictions of injuries Summary:

Natsu and Gray have been rivals since they were children, and it tends to cause lots of property damage. At his wits end, Makarov assigns them a mission in an attempt to make them bond.

Now they must all deal with the consequences.

link to chapter 2

Look I actually fucking updated something kajehfliajkdshliakjsm

#phenomenon #fairy tail #gratsu #natsu dragneel #gray fullbuster

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monsieur-hadrien · 4 years

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Quarantine Harry Potter Fanfiction *READING LIST*

I’ve spent the past months reading copious amounts of fanfiction and now my amount of AO3 bookmarks is absurd. I really need to share these because if I don’t I think I might implode. Drarry-centric but not all!

These are in no particular order nor is there a particular time frame that these were all posted. I have a little bit of everything in here just you wait.

On Punching Gods and Absentee Dads by Enigmaris

56 Chapters, 247k Words, Complete, no slash, T Rating

Marvel, Norse Mythology, Harry Potter Crossover

TW: Past Abandonment

Harry finds out that his dad is alive, has been the whole time. Instead of being overjoyed, Harry's disgusted. His dad left earth and abandoned his friends. Every painful thing he's ever gone through can be traced back to one man. Now Harry's got super strength he can't control and an almost unnecessary amount of magical power. His dad might be living it up with the Avengers now but not for long. With the help of his friends, Harry comes up with a plan for revenge. Get ready Avengers, Harry's out to punch a god.

We’re starting off strong with a Marvel crossover fanfic wow. Who knew that crossovers could be done tastefully as 2013 Wattpad kind of ruined it for us. However, this fic changed my mind! This fic is funny as fuck and is just a goodass time. I love a good multi-chapter fic (as you’ll soon see) and this one is a showstopper.

The Man Who Lived by sebastianL

42 Chapters, 254k Words, Complete, Draco/Harry, E Rating

TW: Major Character Death, Graphic Deptictions of Violence

Draco breaks a cup, and one thing leads to another. A story of redemption, tattoos, dreams, mistakes, green eyes, long conversations, and copious amounts of coffee.

With all of the Black Lives Matter protests happening right now, I think that this fic is super relevant. Draco has moved to New York City and is working as a receptionist at a tattoo shop and a mentor for inner city kids, but he accidentally gets forced to work out his differences with Harry, who at this point hates his guts. This fic is pretty serious, tackling themes of mental health, suicide, and police brutality. Every OC in this story is completely lovable and I cried my eyes out many times. When people ask me for a fic reccomendation this is the one I give people. Dare I say that this is my all-time favorite fic.

Warm Bodies by Betty_Hazel

Work in Progress, 37 Chapters as of 6/12/2020, 108k Words, Draco/Harry, E Rating

TW: D/s Dynamics, Graphic Porn, Dubious Relationship with Food

Draco Malfoy has spent his whole life wanting to go down on his knees for other men, and that's by far the least of the depraved things he fantasises about. He's wanted it all for so long that he's stopped believing that there might be someone out there who might be able to give it all to him; it comes as something of a surprise to find that maybe Harry Potter can, and that maybe Harry's looking for something too.

ALRIGHT MY PORN LOVERS THIS ONE IS FOR YOU! Don’t lie I know you’re horny. Somehow this fic is so fucking gorgeous and sweet yet so sinfully hot. It’s literally two boys who have never felt like their emotional needs have been satisfied learning to help and love each other like how much more wholesome does it get. I mean it’s all fine and wholesome until you get to the kinky sex which is WONDERFULLY WRITTEN MIGHT I ADD! I always say that if porn can make you feel something other than just horny, you’ve found a winner, and this story does just that.

Definitely check all the tags and I mean all the tags before you read this, but this is definitely one of my favorite porn with plot stories.

Running On Air by eleventy7

17 Chapters, 75k Words, Complete, Draco/Harry, T Rating

TW: No Archive Warnings

Draco Malfoy has been missing for three years. Harry is assigned the cold case and finds himself slowly falling in love with the memories he collects.

Might I just say that classics are considered classics for a reason. This is one of those stories that has the vibe of high school summer after senior year where all you do is try to escape reality and figure out your place in the world. While the plot is wonderful and the characters are great, I think what shines the brightest from this story is the writing style. It’s so enchanting and poetic with the best one-liners that make your heart hurt. On my AO3 bookmark i captioned it, “This just ripped my soul in half and restitched it together again,” and I still stand by that.

Lokison (Series) and How To Train Your Godling (Series) by sifsshadowheart

Main Story (Lokison): 33 Chapters, 244k Words, Completed, Harry/Various Characters, E Rating

14 Spinoffs/ Sequel Stories, Completed, Harry/Various, Various Ratings

Norse Mythology, Harry Potter, Percy Jackson, Various Fandoms Crossover

TW: Major Character Death, Graphic Violence, Underage Sex, Spiralling Mental Health

James and Lily Potter had a secret, one which led to Thanatos saving young Harry from a dreary life with the Dursleys and changed the face of the Second British Wizarding War before it ever began.

This story feels much more like a 12 season television show than a two hour movie if you know what I mean. The plot is pretty slow going but the character development and interation makes it worth it. The story blends the lore and events of the HP and PJO to make a completely new story without making it feel like a goddamn recap. The reader follows Harry from when he’s young all the way into adulthood and it’s a fun time to watch him grow as a character and bond with his parental figures. Also some of the spinoffs are really wild and I never would have thought of the pairings but they just work somehow?? My personal favorite spinoff is the Pirates of Caribbean/Calypso and Leo arc like HELLO?! hot pirates. The total word count of the two series is 465k so beware it takes a hot second to chug through this one.

This Worship of an Extinct Fire by Lomonaaeren

Oneshot, 30k Words, Draco/Harry, M Rating

TW: Graphic Depictions of Violence, Emotional and Physical Abuse, Deppression

Unspeakable Draco Malfoy has planned for nearly six months how to take down Thomas Linwood, a man who has discovered the secret of converting wizard bodies to pure magic. He was prepared for anything--except the discovery of the missing Harry Potter in Linwood's compound.

This one, I don’t know how it’s not considered a classic. I’ve seen it floating around on drarry tumblr and wow is it good. I especially like the detailed magic system and mechanics that Draco is investigating. How the author managed to have so much detailed and gracefully planned out backstory in 30k words is beyond me. Also gentle Dracoo Malfoy is my favorite Draco Malfoy :) absolute angel mode.

Little Compton Street (One Rainy Night in Soho) by LLAP15 and Writcraft

Oneshot, 66k Words, Draco/Harry, Past Sirius/James, E Rating

TW: Implied/Referenced Homophobia, Light D/s Dynamics, References to Cancer, References to HIV/AIDS

Draco is lonely, Harry hates the press and it won’t stop raining in London. Harry discovers a magical street that’s close to disappearing forever and Draco realises he’s one rainy night in Soho away from finding everything he’s been searching for.

This fic is, in every sense, a masterpiece. Especially for pride month, the story surrounding LGBTQIA+ activism, the AIDS Epidemic of the 80s, and the gentrification of historically queer communities is one that should be read by everyone. Every single place, OC, and historic event has real world ties and is historically accurate, making this fic even more enchanting. Everything about this fic is graceful and slow burning I can’t help but fall in love with it. I’ve only seen this fic once on HP tumblr, but I feel like it should be considered a classic as it is truly a moving piece. This fic is one of the biggest reasons why I became so enthralled with LGBT history and am writing a fic that takes place in a wizarding version of the AIDS epidemic.

Sensitive Touch by Raserwolf

45 Chapters, 194k Words, Complete, Draco/Harry, E Rating

TW: Racism and Racial Slurs, Homophobic Slurs, Ablism and Ablist Slurs, Rape and Sexual Assault, Sensory Overloads and Mental Breakdowns, Extreme Bullying and Hate Crime, Past Abuse, Anxiety Disorders, PTSD wow this is a long list

When Draco Malfoy encounters a struggling and frustrated Harry desperately trying to tie his shoes after a meltdown in the Great Hall, his curiosity regarding the incident leads him to seek the help of the two people closest to Harry: Ron and Hermione.

After even they are shocked to hear the extent of Harry's issues, though Hermione had her suspicions, he discovers more about the man than he ever thought he knew before.

As a Neurotypical, I found this fic to be absolutely wonderful. I don’t know much about the typical traits of those who are one the autism spectrum and how they affect their everyday lives, but from what I was reading in the comments from those who are on the spectrum or who have family who are, this fic was pretty accurate and realistic. Harry, who lives with aspergers, goes without a known diagnosis until 8th year and it’s just heightened by his PTSD and anxiety and ugh I just want to hug the boy. The story follows Harry and Draco and the rest of the 8th year gang through the year and has multiple arcs in which the wizarding world are just dumbass bitches who can’t fucking seem to accept people for who they are. Not only is Harry on the spectrum but he’s also Desi with a purpose and not just mentioned and forgotten which is wonderful. The boys go through a lot of trauma in the story but there’s also a lot of teeth-rotting fluff that I live for. This is one of the fics that I have read and reread because I love it so much.

This definitely is not my full list I have a ton more stories in my bookmarks if you are curious. I’ll probably post a part two to this just cause I have so much and read so often. These, however, are definitely the biggest highlights.

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