#without wandering around for an hour in freezing temperatures with a questionable sense of direction and no phone

[savethepinecones]

adding onto the wild ups and downs of the day i just spent an hour wandering outside in slides and a sweatshirt because my mother decided that the best way to deal with an argument was to leave the car and walk around without her phone and hope her famously horrible sense of direction didnt prevent her from getting home. my stepdad called me because hed tried to go after her and fucking went into a-fib so i drove out to the car and tracked her footprints through the fucking snow- at midnight!!!- a solid half mile while my stepdad drove around trying to find her

[crystalrose555]

Slap me, I dare you! pt. 3

My Asks are open :)

 “Marley, hey, are you ok?” Luke called out as he waved his hand in front of her face.

“Ah, sorry Luke, I’m fine, really.” She answered softly with a smile.

“You don’t seem like it.” Luke frowned as leaned against her.

She knew that the young angel was right, if she was alright, she would have trapped those arrogant demons in a block of ice. Instead, she froze up at the sight of demonic flames, cowering like a common animal. The last half hour barely registered as she sat in the emptied Hell’s Kitchen with Luke by her side. She took in a deep breath before releasing it slowly, centering herself once more. However, she didn’t have a moment to regain her composure as Simeon and Solomon ran into the cafeteria.

“Luke, where have you been?” Simeon asked as Luke ran to his embrace and hugged him tightly.

Solomon sniffed the air for a moment.

“Why do I smell ash with a dash of sulfur? What were you doing with demonic flames, Luke?” He claimed while crossing his arms.

“Umm, we may have gotten into a fight with a bunch of demons.” Luke claimed nervously.

Luke twitched as he sensed Simeon’s anger radiating from his standard smile.

“So, where are they?” He asked pleasantly.

“I have no idea, Beel dragged them off somewhere.” Luke answered as he tried to calm his companion.

Marley took a deep breath before standing up from her seat.

“It was my fault, I let it get too far. I’m sorry for getting Luke involved, Simeon.”

Simeon’s angered expression remained, causing Luke to jump in once more.

“It’s not Marley’s fault! They wanted her fur and I jumped in on my own. Right, Marley?” Luke confessed.

Marley folded and rubbed her arms before offering a small smile.

“Yeah, I would’ve been in real trouble if he didn’t. Luke’s my hero.” She ended with an earnest grin.

Simeon’s hardened expression softened upon looking at Marley’s shrunken demeanor. He turned his attention back to Luke and gave him an approving gaze.

“I’m proud of you, Luke, but in the future, make sure you call someone before things get out of hand, alright?” He asked with a smile.

Luke gave a compliant nod to Simeon while Marley looked away from the corner of her eyes. Seeing this, Solomon scratched the back of his head and motioned to get Simeon’s attention. After sharing a moment of eye contact, Simeon patted Luke on the shoulder.

“Luke, how about we go get Marley something to drink? I’m not sure if I’ve gotten a handle of that vending machine yet.” He asked.

With a nod, an enthusiastic Luke let his mentor out of the room, leaving Marley and Solomon on their own. 

“So, do you want to talk about it?” Solomon offered as he stood closer to the sadden woman.

“We just did, I got cornered by a bunch of demons and almost got Luke hurt, remember?” She claimed sharply.

“You know what I’m talking about. Come on, it’s just you and me, so let’s talk honestly.”

Marley paused to let the sorcerer's words sink in. 

“...I never thought in a million years that I would back down like I did.”

“So what made you do it then?”

Marley tightened her grip as she rubbed her arms up and down.

“...He was going to burn me and because of me, he was going to burn Luke. I’m so ashamed of myself.”

Solomon closed the distance between him and the shaken Marley.

“You shouldn’t be ashamed, you were afraid. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about showing fear in a stressful situation.” Solomon responded as he gently placed his hand on her shoulder.

However, Marley pulled away sharply while freezing the air and chapping his hand slightly.

“Showing fear is a death sentence!” She cracked out in a surprising shill voice, her eyes tearing up.

The quiet of the room continued as Marley trembled in front of the sorcerer. The nearby window began to frost over as she sniffled to herself. Icicles began to form and hang from the chairs and tables while the room took on a blue hue.

“...I’ve never frozen up before, I’ve never trembled before. Why do I only feel this here?” She asked quietly as tears threatened to freeze on her cheeks along with everything in Hell’s Kitchen.

Solomon bit his tongue and pulled Marley into a tight embrace. Instinctively, Marley burrowed into Solomon’s chest while squeezing herself as tightly as possible. She let her frustration out as the temperature nose-dived and coated the floor around them in a layer of ice and frost.

“M-Marley...”

“Y-Yeah?” She sniffled out.

“C-can you turn d-down the ice a b-bit?” Solomon chattered out as his breath froze into a white cloud.

Marley looked up to see the trembling man whose complexion was starting to match his hair. Despite freezing in his boots, Solomon kept his friendly smile that vibrated with the chattering of his teeth. 

“Not yet, magic man.” She managed to chuckle out from her own sniffling.

“C-come on, it’s f-freezing and I only have t-this jacket.”

“No.” She giggled.

“M-Marley, please...” He whined.

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

“Solomon, that coffee was for Marley, not you!” Luke protested with a huff as Solomon snatched the cup from him.

“It’s alright, Luke, he needs it more than she does right now.” Simeon chuckled under his breath.

“I’m glad that turning into a popsicle can entertain so many people.” he sulked as he sipped the coffee gingerly.

“Sorry, I couldn’t help myself.” Marley smiled widely with tired eyes.

Luke looked around the room to see the ice Marley made evaporating to nothing and tilted his head in response as Simeon joined him.

“Wow, not even a drop of water from all that ice. How can it just disappear like that?” Luke asked.

“It’s because it’s made without the use of a catalyst.” Simeon answered.

“And the sheer volume and quality of ice is a sign of powerful casting. I’ve been meaning to ask, who's your teacher, Marley?” Solomon asked between sips of his drink.

Marley scratched the back of her head, her fingers gathering her fluffy hair in her grip.

“He’s more of a father than anything else. Vali Unn took care of me and tried to keep me out of trouble. So he gave me this really old tome to keep me busy so I wouldn’t scamper off. And before I knew it, I could do what he does but-.” 

She then turned her gaze to the defrosting cafeteria with a slightly concerned look.

“-I wasn’t able to do something this severe so quickly before I came to Devildom.”

“So, you’re saying your casting became more powerful? Did you make a pact the last time you were here?” 

Marley squinted her eyes at the sorcerer with an unsure gaze.

“Umm, what’s a pact?” She asked, scratching her neck.

Solomon sighed.

“And that answered my question. Looks like you are going to need extra lessons, Marley.”

“Wait, just because I don’t know what a pact is, you’re going to give me homework? Who are you, Lucifer?” She protested.

“Well, if you want to get a better handle on your new level of power, then this is the best option. I teach you what I know and in return, you can tell me more about selkies and yourself. Sounds fair, Mochi?~” Solomon teased in between his cold-induced sniffles.

Marley crossed her arms in annoyance.

“I take it that you got a pact thing with Asmo based on how you’re twisting my arm.”

“Good conclusion, but I’m afraid this is all me~” Solomon smiled.

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

Marley groaned as she dragged her feet down the empty hallway. She managed to talk a great deal to her purgatory hall pals but it didn’t keep them from going to their next class. Alone again, she wandered and wandered, wondering to herself what to do next. She folded her arms and looked out the window, staring at the courtyard garden bathed in the moonlight. 

“Maybe I should just go home again.” She sighed to herself.

“Please don’t leave.”

Before Marley could react, she was lifted and held in a tight embrace. She struggled with the vice and turned with a growl in her throat and fire in her eyes. However, the flame softened upon seeing the sixth born looking pitiful at her.

“Beelzebub?”

“I took care of those demons that attacked you. So please don’t run away from us.” Beel whimpered softly.

Marley’s eyes widened before softening to a pitied gaze. With a few grunts, she twisted herself in Beel’s hug so she could look at his face. However, he refused to make eye contact, his eyelids trembled while holding back his emotions. 

“Run away? Beel, don’t be silly. I didn’t run away, I went home. I’m not some lost puppy you guys found, you know?” Marley chuckled as she gently stroked his cheek, easing his sniffling.

“I know but after everything that happened...and Belphie...”

“...Beel, is that why I haven’t seen you two since Lucifer dragged me back here?”

Beel remained silent as his shoulders slumped downward.

“...I’m not going to lie to you, Belphie isn’t exactly on my best friend list after what happened. But I can bring myself to hate him completely.”

“But you do hate me.” Belphie answered as he appeared from the corner of their eyes.

He mirrored Beel and looked away sorrowfully since he couldn’t bring himself to look her in the eyes. The hall grew colder and colder as the twins sucked out the warmth with their melancholy and guilt. Marley, on the other hand, gave a huff before wiggling to turn in Belphie’s direction.

“Listen, I’ve already had two emotional moments today and I don’t have the energy for another one. So I’m going to be blunt about this.”

Belphie twitched hard as Beel turned his gaze to his brother.

“Belphie, you’re not the first person to try and kill me and I doubt you’ll be the last. You’re definitely the first person to set me on fire and I have to admit that shook me to the core. I nearly lost my pelt and nerve, both of which I hold very dear to me.”

“...”

“But I’m trying to understand all of this. My new pelt, new feelings and my new connection with all of you. I haven’t forgotten what Lilith means to everyone, especially to you two. So, let’s take things one step at a time.”

“...”

“So, Belphie, thank you for saving me and Luke. Thanks to both of you.”

Belphie gave a small smile before erasing it from his face upon hearing Marley’s deep sigh.

“But I take it that it wasn’t enough.” Belphie claimed quietly.

“Listen, cowboy, that’s not how I keep score, but, trust me, we’re gonna have a talk about all of this. Especially since something’s not adding up.”

“Like what?”

Marley folded her arms while still being held up by a slightly nervous Beel.

“Well for starters, Luke and I were attacked at the beginning of classes. So, Belphie, what were you doing at the time?”

“I was taking a nap, so I was skipping my class.”

“Uh huh, then it was awfully convenient that you would come right when we needed you the most.”

“I guess I was just lucky.”

“Especially considering that RAD is so huge and at that point Luke and I didn’t scream for help. And you managed to show right when the fireball showed up. Lucky huh?” Marley huffed out with her nostrils flaring.

Belphie turned his gaze away from the calculating sealskin.

“And not to mention how convenient it was that Beel so happened to pop up right when you were going to get into a fight. I mean what are the chances, huh boys?” Marley claimed loudly as she turned her gaze to a reluctant Beel.

The twins remained silent as they felt the judging gaze of the stout woman being held in the air like a stuffed animal. Despite her small stature, Marley’s glare seemed to pierce with a heavy yet familiar weight. The seconds of silence ticked away like hours before Marley sighed once more.

“Judging from that nice bit of silence, I take it you two planned that little stunt. I doubt you would have a bunch of demons to attack me so my guess is you were both tailing me until you can swoop in and save me. Am I right, boys?”

The twins’ faces wrinkled, worried that all their efforts only pushed her away instead of earning her forgiveness, and unfortunately their worries worsened as Marley nearly exploded in laughter. Marley tried to keep her serious face but deep down she was trying to hold back her laughter. There she was with ancient demons, among the most powerful demons in Devildom and human history, who had the same planning prowess of a bunch of grade schoolers. They froze in place as Marley tried to contain her humor with a series of stifles and snorts. 

“M-Marley?” Beel whimpered out while Belphie refused to look directly at her.

“Ok, ok, I’m good now.” She snorted out while trying to calm herself down.

Marley just motioned for a nervous Belphie to come closer only for her to lock him in a headlock.

“H-Hey, are you trying to kill me!?” He protested in a panic.

“Quit crying, cowboy! I’m in a good mood!” She giggled with glee.

“So you’re not mad at us?” Beel asked.

“How can I be mad right now? You two prove that some things never change. No matter where you are, twins will always be plotting some sort of mischief.” She blurted out with a snort, thinking about her own twins back at home.

Regardless of her context, Belphie and Beel found themselves at ease finally as they became loose and relaxed in her warmth. The three embraced tenderly as their breathing synced up in the silence. However, Marley still had a question on her mind.

“Beel?”

“Yes, Marley?”

“You didn’t eat those guys after you dragged them away, did you?”

“No, they didn’t look tasty, so I took them to Lucifer’s office.”

“...Yeeeeaaah, you probably should have just ate them.” She whispered quietly, slightly pitying her former assailants.

[luvshuas]

no strings attached

pairing - wonwoo x reader

tags - friends w/ benefits + love/hate dynamic + fluff + angst

synopsis - you hated wonwoo as much as he seemed to hate you, but how long could you keep an intimate relationship with someone you’re supposed to hate without some feelings forming?

word count - 3.9k

©

You groaned at the feeling of Wonwoo’s cold feet pressing against your calves. He always did this, and it never failed to irritate  you. You turned on your side to face him — though you were met by his exposed back. “Hey,” you pushed him lightly. “Get your cold ass feet on your side.” You pulled your legs closer to yourself, but they were just followed by Wonwoo’s. It was far too early for his teasing, you decided, pushing back his feet with your own. Wonwoo took your retaliation as a challenge, and in no time he was facing you with his limbs entangled in your own. He pulled you flush against his chest, which was still bare from the night prior.

“Let go.” You whined, pinching the skin at his stomach. Your attempts at escape were proven successful as Wonwoo tried pushing you, and your pinching fingers, away from him. He winced as you pinched him once more before rolling out of the mess of blankets covering your bed. You sat up at the edge of your bed, scanning the floor for a robe or anything that could be used to cover yourself.

“What are you looking for?” He asked, sitting up. The sunlight peeking through your curtains speckled your back in dots of light and shadow. Wonwoo found himself wanting to reach out to trace the pattern splashed across your skin, but your movement from the bed to the corner of your room stopped him. He watched you grab a sweater off the chair and pull it over your head.

“Get dressed and go home.” You said. You walked to the bedroom door, barely sparing him a glance before disappearing through the frame. “Unless you want me to force you to clean my apartment!” You yelled from who knows where. Wonwoo rolled his eyes. He expected you to kick him out, but he didn’t expect it to be within moments of waking up. He couldn’t say he was surprised. Your first night with him you had tried kicking him out immediately after cleaning yourself up, and every time after that you barely let him stay till morning.

Wonwoo made his way around your bedroom, picking up his scattered articles of clothing and donning them as he goes. Within a few minutes he was at your door, slipping his feet into his shoes. “Wanna at least give me money for an Uber?” He asked, turning away from the door to look at you.

“You’re apartment is two blocks away. Just walk.” You mumbled from your place on your couch. You heard Wonwoo grumble a string of profanities, though you couldn’t catch exactly what he said. “Go across the hall to ask if Joshua will drive you since you’re so lazy.”

Wonwoo didn’t say anything as he slammed your front door shut. It amazed him how a singular person could be so infuriating. It also amazed him how he could never get enough of you. Maybe it was the way you moaned his name instead of nagging at him for those few hours. That’s when he liked you best. Silently, he leaned against your door. After a few seconds he knocked on Joshua’s door, hoping your neighbor would agree to give him a ride.

You stayed nearly frozen in your spot on the couch, only moving to brush your fingers through your hair. You hated kicking Wonwoo out, but you saw it as a necessity. The mornings after always left you conflicted, and Wonwoo being in the same room as you wouldn’t make it any easier to sort out your feelings. Perhaps the way you kicked him out was a bit harsh, but that’s just how it had to be. He was an annoyance. An annoyance that you just so happened to like kissing.

You knew Wonwoo only liked you when you could do something for him, and that’s how you should feel about him as well. He was, to put it bluntly, nothing more than a fuck buddy. A fuck buddy that just so happened to make you question your feelings. Sometimes you let your mind wander into little scenarios where you and Wonwoo didn’t have the relationship — if you could even call it that — you had now. Maybe you’d be friends, or lovers. You never let yourself think too much about it.

Sighing, you reached for your phone, instead finding you had left it in your room. If it were up to you, you wouldn’t have had to return there, but you found the best way to cure your morning after mood was through meaningless flirting with anyone who happened to match you on a dating app. You always made it a point to stop flirting whenever you felt it would lead to a date or a hookup. You could never understand why being intimate with someone else, or even agreeing to go on a date, felt like you were going being Wonwoo’s back and cheating. You weren’t in a relationship, and, hell, you didn’t even know if he felt the same sense of loyalty to you. You didn’t want to understand either. Your relationship with Wonwoo — whatever that may be — was something you wouldn’t tolerate losing; even if you wished to run him over majority of the time you were around him.

____

As nights grew longer and the days grew shorter, Wonwoo found himself ending up in your bed more often. You always let him into your apartment when the quick knocks at your front door echoed through your home. Having been with him for so long, you had grown used to him becoming needier once the weather changed. You didn’t mind the extra warmth, especially when the temperature drops below freezing. The sturdy feeling of his arm holding you against him was nice when it came to helping you fall asleep.

Along with Wonwoo’s growing neediness, you felt yourself becoming bolder. Showing up to Wonwoo’s apartment was something neither you nor him were used to. For years it had always been him calling, texting, or simply knocking on your door, but when he found you standing on the other side of his door, he wasn’t disappointed.

“What are you doing here?” He asked, hurrying you inside. It had been snowing throughout the day, and he wasn’t interested in dealing with a case of frostbite. Wonwoo helped you out of your jacket while you unlaced your shoes to leave by the door. Truthfully, you didn’t know what you were doing there. You just wanted to be with someone, and the next thing you knew you were standing in front of his apartment door. You could’ve gone across the hall to Joshua, seeing as you weren’t seeking sex, but you still ended up at Wonwoo’s place.

“I...I just didn’t want to be alone.” You mumbled, the sense of boldness you had prior quickly leaving you. Wonwoo stared at you for a while, his expression told you nothing of what he felt. You hated that about him. He never showed what he was thinking, leaving you to do nothing but wonder if this was a good idea or if he was deciding on how to kick you out. You expected the latter.

“Alright,” he relented, not seeing any reason to turn you away. “I’m kicking you out in the morning though so you can get a taste of your own medicine.” You felt an odd desire to laugh, but you held back. Nodding, you walked further into the apartment. You’d only been there a handful of times, but the decor never changed. That’s another thing you hated about Wonwoo. He never allowed for change in his life. When it came to him, everything had a designated place and color and role. Nothing was swapped out. Not even you.

“Have you eaten?” You asked. As if on cue, Wonwoo’s stomach growled. He smiled sheepishly, placing his hands over his stomach. “I guess not. I’ll make something as a, like, thank you for letting me stay over.” You moved towards his kitchen. You had no clue what you were going to make, or if he even had anything to cook with in his home. You assumed he did since Wonwoo had always been strict with what he eats.

Wonwoo sat atop one of the bar stools, watching, and occasionally directing you to where certain utensils were located. You worked in silence, the confidence you had earlier when you knocked on his door had been quick to dissolve. “Are you sure you can cook? You’ve been staring at the inside of my fridge for awhile.” Wonwoo asked. He hadn’t noticed he was hungry until you mentioned it, and now it was all that he could think about.

Sighing, you turned to him. “Yes, I’m sure, but you have nothing that I can work with.” You nudged the door shut to prevent the cold air from leaking out — despite having been stood in front of it with the door open for a lengthy period of time. Wonwoo stood up from the bar stool and left to the living room. You thought about following him, but you didn’t want to seem like a lost puppy. Besides, it didn’t take him very long to come back with a few paper menus in hand.

“Look through these and tell me what you want. I’m too hungry to wait for you to make something.” He said, tossing the small stack onto the counter. You sifted through the options for a few minutes before making your choice. You slid the chosen menu across the counter to Wonwoo, who inspected it to choose what he would order. “Alright, write down on a piece of paper what you want before I go into the other room to order.” You nodded, quickly finding something to write with and a piece of paper.

Once the food was ordered, it didn’t take very long to arrive. You had been sitting on the couch, watching whatever holiday movie was showing when Wonwoo rushed off to answer the door. The fresh, warm smell of food drifted into the apartment. By the time Wonwoo returned to you with two bags in hand, your mouth was practically watering.

“I hate you for never telling me food that smells this good was so close your house.” You said, standing from the couch to pull one of the bags from Wonwoo’s arms. You set the freed bag onto the coffee table, quickly pulling out plastic containers. Wonwoo shrugged, following suit.

“Because I don’t want you coming over to my place all the time.” His tone was teasing, but you couldn’t stop yourself from overthinking it. You wondered if he really didn’t want you to seek him out; if he would rather just show up to your apartment for sex and then leave.

“Maybe I’ll just go to Joshua next time.” You mumbled quietly. Wonwoo looked at you, surprised to hear your neighbor’s name being brought into the conversation. You had never been one to mention other people in conversations between the two of you. As much as you annoyed him, he didn’t like the idea of you going to someone else’s house.

“Shut up and eat.” He said, turning his attention back to the plastic container in front of him. You didn’t say anything more, opting to listen and start eating. You added this conversation to the list of things you hated about Wonwoo.

____

Despite your overthinking, you began to see Wonwoo more often, whether it be him showing up at your apartment or you at his. A part of you enjoyed it — seeing as you got pleasure and company from it — while another part hated it. You began spending more time on dating apps. Thought it was a weak attempt to get him out of your mind, it still worked.

If Joshua knew about your ‘relationship’ (you still had no clue what you could call it) with Wonwoo, he hid it really well. Especially when he suggested you go on a blind date with one of his friends. When he brought it up you were prepared to shut the idea down, but you hesitated. Joshua took notice of your hesitation, and began smiling. It took him no more than five minutes to give you his friend’s name and contact information, as well as a text to said friend to set up a date. It was interesting how quickly your neighbor got what he wanted.

When Mingyu, Joshua’s friend, rang your doorbell, you expected it to be Wonwoo. Though you were the opposite of disappointed to find the tall, smiling boy holding out a small bouquet of flowers to you. “Hey, I’m here to pick you up for our date.” He said. Happiness seemed to radiate off of him, and his smile was absolutely infectious.

“Yeah! I was wondering if you ditched me,” you said teasingly. “Let me grab my bag, and then we can be on our way.” Mingyu held the door open as you went in search of your bag. His eyes wandered around your apartment until they landed on a sweatshirt laying across the arm of your couch. He wanted to go over and inspect it, but you hadn’t invited him into your apartment. Mingyu’s manners had won out over his curiosity.

When he heard the jingle of your keys as you walked back into the front room, his face brightened up to the same expression he had earlier. “Ready? I was thinking we could go to a little cafe by the park.”

“The one that just opened a few weeks ago? I’ve been meaning to go to it.” You said, nodding. You exited your apartment, locked the door, and continued down the hall towards the elevator with Mingyu. You listened to him talk, occasionally interrupting to give your opinion or thoughts. It surprised you how easy it was for Mingyu to talk, and how much you liked listening to him. Maybe Joshua didn’t do too bad with this blind date.

Exiting the apartment building, you caught a glimpse of Wonwoo crossing the street. It was too early in the day for him to be visiting you, but he also had friends in your apartment building. That’s how you had met him in the first place. Through mutual friends.

You grabbed onto Mingyu’s hand, pulling him along as you walked faster. “Woah, is everything ok?” He asked, worried that you saw something. He might’ve just met you, but he was ready to confront anything that caused you to look so worried.

“No, no, no. Everything’s fine! I just thought I felt raindrops!” You laughed awkwardly, slowing down. Mingyu looked up at the sky — which was as clear and free of raindrops as the weather predicted. He wasn’t stupid enough to believe your excuse, but he decided not to push it. If you felt comfortable, you would tell him on your own.

Mingyu kept your hand in his, “Then let’s get inside the cafe before you dissolve.” He said, allowing you to continue pulling him along. You couldn’t fight back the smile that stretched across your face; there was just something about Mingyu that made his happiness spread into anyone he comes in contact with.

You didn’t risk looking back to see if Wonwoo spotted you. But he did. From the corner of the street, he watched you walk hand in hand with Mingyu towards the cafe by the park. He didn’t feel hurt seeing you with another guy, just bitter. Bitter because why would you need to be with some other guy when you had him, but he knew you didn’t really have him. The same way he, apparently, didn’t have you.

With his plans to grab his sweatshirt from your apartment out the window, Wonwoo figured he could stop by at Joshua’s apartment. He told himself he wasn’t going to ask about you, just to check in on his long-time friend. He knew he’d still ask about you, and so did Joshua when he greeted Wonwoo at his front door.

Wonwoo found out you were on a date with a boy — Kim Mingyu — fairly quickly. He had barely gotten two sentences out before Joshua told him what you were doing  and where you were going, and in no time Wonwoo was heading in that direction as well. He had no clue what he was gonna do when he got there. You weren’t exclusively in a relationship with him, but you had him to take you on cafe dates, so why would you need some other boy to do that? All you had to do was ask him, but he knew you wouldn’t. Wonwoo hated that about you.

You were seated in front of Mingyu with a warm drink and a vanilla pound cake when Wonwoo walked through the cafe doors. He didn’t acknowledge you at first, wanting to seem like he just happened to show up out of the blue and definitely not because you were there. Wonwoo ordered a small coffee once he was up at the register. Coffee in hand, he turned to leave, and, consequently, make eye contact with you.

“Hey, sweetheart. I was looking for you! I stopped by your apartment to grab my sweatshirt, but Joshua told me you were catching up with a friend.” Wonwoo said, making his way to the table you were seated at. You stared at him in shock before looking back at Mingyu.

“Mingyu, listen-” You began to try to explain, but Wonwoo moved to wrap an arm around you. He bitterly smiled at Mingyu, hoping that would he catch the glint in Wonwoo’s eyes telling him to get lost. Mingyu definitely got it.

“Hey, no worries. It was great seeing you! You and your boyfriend can have the rest of the cake.” Mingyu said, grabbing his coat from the back of the chair as he stood up. You smiled at Mingyu apologetically as he left the cafe. Turning to Wonwoo, your expression immediately changed.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” You asked, pushing his arm off you. Wonwoo avoided eye contact. He didn’t know what he was doing, but he gained a feeling of satisfaction from being recognized as your boyfriend. “Now I have to text Mingyu and explain to him that you’re just a dumbass.”

“Or you let him believe I’m your boyfriend.” Wonwoo said, finally looking at you. You stared at him silently for awhile. You were never sure what you could call your ‘relationship’ with Wonwoo. You wouldn’t consider him a friend. He was definitely something more than that, but he wasn’t your boyfriend. And now here he is telling people he is your boyfriend. You hated how confusing he was.

“You want me to ruin my chances with a nice boy for you? Because what? You don’t like the idea of finding a new fuck buddy?” You said. You kept your voice barely above a whisper, but you felt like the whole cafe could hear every word you were saying.

“Why would you need him when you have me? You have me to take you to cafes. You have me to hold your hand. You shouldn’t need whoever that guy is.” Wonwoo folded his arms over his chest. Of course, you wouldn’t need someone else to do those things with you, but Wonwoo wasn’t yours to fall for.

“We’re not together, Wonwoo. That’s why.” You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him as you got up from your chair. Wonwoo watched you walk out of the cafe and towards the direction of your apartment. Maybe he shouldn’t have said all of that, but it felt good to say that. At least you would have some idea of what he felt.

____

Wonwoo had expected you would start avoiding him. You had always been one to avoid confrontation, and seeing Wonwoo would definitely lead to a conversation you weren’t sure you were ready to have. So his texts were left unopened, his calls sent to voicemail, and the knocks at your door ignored.

After your failed date with Mingyu, you had tried to call him to explain everything, but he would just tell you he didn’t want to get in between you and Wonwoo. Despite there being no ‘you and Wonwoo’. There was just you and then there was just Wonwoo. Wonwoo who said he was your boyfriend. Wonwoo who said he’ll hold your hand. Wonwoo who makes you hate all the conflicting emotions that go through your head anytime you think about him.

After nearly a month, Wonwoo stopped leaving texts or calling. He hoped you would come to him on your own, but you continued to stay away from him. A sense of panic that he was losing you settled in him, and in one last chance to reconstruct what he had with you, he knocked on your apartment door again.

You weren’t in your apartment when Wonwoo knocked. But he waited. He waited until he saw you walking down the hall with a cluster of bags hanging on your arms. “Let me help you!” He said, rushing down to meet you. You allowed him to relieve some of the bags from your arms, but you still refused to look at him. You didn’t know what would happen if you looked at him.

Wonwoo followed you down the hall and into your apartment. He set the bags he took from you on one of the counters in your kitchen. He watched you silently put everything away. He wanted to say something, but he didn’t know what. This was the first time he’d seen you in weeks, and all he could do was stare at you.

“What are you doing here?” You asked, breaking the silence. You could feel Wonwoo’s eyes staring a hole into you. You didn’t like it.

“I want a restart,” he mumbled, looking away from you. “To back to how things were before.” You stood still, listening to him. You wanted a restart as well, but you couldn’t get one. Everything had already been said and done. Wonwoo had worked himself farther into your heart, and there was no going back from that.

“Why? I’m sure you can find someone else who would be more than willing to hop into bed with you.” Your tone was sharp, but you couldn’t help yourself. You had convinced yourself he was just there to apologize and get you back underneath him.

“Can you stop with that? You make it seem like the only thing between us is sex. I don’t want you holding hands with someone else or going on dates with someone else. I want to be the one to do that with you.” Wonwoo said. His voice seemed to project more as he continued talking.

“Get to the point.”

Wonwoo inhaled sharply. This wasn’t how he expected this to go. “I don’t want one person to think I’m your boyfriend. I want everyone to know I’m your boyfriend.”

You considered it for a moment. This was what you had wanted deep down, so why did it feel too rushed. Maybe the timing and mood wasn’t right. “Ok,” you mumbled. “You can get one more life, but after this it’s game over.”

Wonwoo felt the weight pushing on his chest disappear. You were giving him a chance, and he was determined not to let anything ruin that chance. Your relationship would no longer be a vague thing that neither of you could determine, but something real. This time you would be his, and he would be yours. No strings attached.

[genesisarclite]

Intermezzo

So, this started as “the heater broke in TF29 in the dead of winter and Aria is cold and Adam is going to fix that” and ended up as 4,600 words of cuddling, Adam completely falling apart, and apparently these two deciding to get more intimate than originally planned, so... yeah. That just happened.

Uh. Anyway. Not a lot of editing and only took me a few hours to write up, but I’m actually pretty happy with it. Aria knows what she wants.

I partly blame @trulycertain for this self-indulgent, stupidly romantic, fluffy, painful nonsense.

The depths of winter in Prague were warmer than Detroit, but still nipped a little painfully at any exposed natural or synthetic skin as Adam crossed the city center toward Praha Dovos. A particularly deep and unusual chill had fallen this evening, with speculation being that it had been brought on by climate change, and anyone on the streets was dressed in heavy clothes. There weren't many people to begin with, though he saw some in the shops as he passed. The cold snap had sent every living thing scurrying for any semblance of cover and warmth.

It was early in the morning, the sun just rising, turning the sky a blaze of color – mostly gold and pink, but with a deep, blue-tinted gray that told him more snow was incoming. A dry, powdery layer had already fallen over the past few days, and it was unusually deep, gathering into drifts around buildings and needing to be swept off entryways and sidewalks. Where the sun had warmed it before the chill left patches of glare ice that caused the unwary to skid whenever they found it, and he had heard more than one exclamation of surprise during his trek here.

His augs ran warmer than the average person, clocking his average body temperature at over a hundred, which meant he felt the cold more than he would normally and folded his arms tight against his chest. It was such a dry, unpleasant cold that was nothing like the humid air and deep, wet snows of Detroit’s winters.

Naked tree branches rattled when a breeze swept down the street, pouncing right through his coat to bite savagely at the skin and synthetic muscle below. Unpleasant, indeed.

Praha Dovos was dimly lit, too early in the morning to be open proper, so he went into the side corridor and forced open the window. It was warmer inside, flooding his body with much-needed heat; he closed and locked the window behind him, glanced at the gated front door, and continued to the back room. He could hear the ventilation rattling – the heater dutifully churned away, piping air from the little furnace that was just enough to warm this shop. TF29 had its own furnace, a much larger one, that kept the temperature a pleasant, if dry, seventy-two degrees.

He swiped his keycard over the reader and began the rickety descent into the underground. It was Saturday, and all he had to do was wrap up some work, then he could go back home and crawl back into bed. His body felt tired and ached for sleep, and after weeks of feeling as though he ran at breakneck speed, it was nice to be able to slow down, relax, and sleep most of it off without fear of begin dragged in for no reason.

But as the lift continued down, he realized the air grew colder rather than warmer; it crawled into his bones, making him fold his arms again and squeeze the biceps with both hands.

When the lift finally stopped, he saw his breath faintly in the air, and most of TF29 was dark. There were only supposed to be a couple dozen people here today, either wrapping up like him or working on long projects, and he saw none of them in the central area. The televisions were off, and the ventilation system directed a lazy breath of icy-cold air directly at him, sending a shiver down his spine.

In the dead of winter, the air conditioning was on?

Bemused, Adam stepped away from the lift, the doors snapping shut behind him. Eventually, he realized that most of the agents were in the briefing room, all done up in winter clothes and looking unhappy. When he glanced in the infirmary, he saw Jennifer Phillips working in a puffed jacket and latex gloves, her breath also visible. Being the first friendly face he saw, he decided to try asking her first.

She looked up the instant the door opened. “Oh, hey, Adam,” she said, offering him a smile. “Questions ‘bout the chill?”

“Yeah, actually.” It was a little warmer here, but not by much. “What gives, doc?”

“You’ll love this.” She half-smiled. “Climate control broke.”

He blinked. “You’re kidding.”

“You had the same reaction Miller had, poor man. Took one look in here, and I sent him out because he looked colder than an ice cube in Norway. Lad’s still recoverin’, gotta give him a break, because he won’t take it himself, I tell you. But, aye, we’re all just kind of suckin’ it up until the HVAC guys get here.”

“And... when is that gonna be?”

Jennifer raised both eyebrows. “Wanna take a wild guess?”

Both of his own eyebrows went down. “I’m guessing I don’t really want to know.”

“Exactly. So, my suggestion is wrap up what you can and scram. It’s forty-five degrees near the thermostat, but we all suspect it’s colder. Nobody’s comfortable, but not many of us can leave yet.”

“Who all is here? Do you know?”

“Well...” She tilted her head. “I chased Miller out, Delara’s locked herself in her office... MacReady is here, somewhere. Probably sulking at his desk and complainin’ about the cold.” She tipped her head the other way, bobbed it a moment, and shrugged one shoulder. “I know Smiley’s here, dressed in two lab coats. Aria’s... somewhere. Said she had to wait on somethin’ and went to find someplace warm.”

At the mention of her name, he felt the corner of his mouth quirk, momentarily betraying him. “Alright. Guess I’ll get my papers done and get out before it gets too late.”

“Ah... Adam, actually, can you see if you can find Aria? She won’t leave.”

Noting the concern in her tone, he studied her a moment. “Is there something I should know, doc?”

“There’s a reason I’m askin’.” Jennifer looked him in the eye. “She’s sick.”

“I see. And I can’t get sick, is that right?”

“Exactly that. Can you find her and send her home? I know she’s still here.”

For a moment, he let his mind wander to the now-ex-quartermaster, with her large brown eyes and pretty smile, and felt the familiar twinge of concern. Here, she had been the first person to show him real kindness, and he had developed a sort of friendship with her in turn – quiet, and a little distant still, but he liked her, and knew she liked him, and still didn’t know what to do with that information.

It figured she would come to work even when she was sick. Only if she couldn’t stand up would she stay in bed. He could tell just from her behavior on the day-to-day.

“I’ll look,” he assured her. “She probably tried to find somewhere warm.”

“Check with Smiley. I think he was the last person who saw her. She had to talk to him and all.”

“Thanks,” he said, and left the infirmary, crossing the central atrium to Forensics. Not to his surprise, he found Smiley there, piled under three lab coats and a scarf carefully tucked out of the way, still buzzing about as though everything were perfectly normal instead of near-freezing.

“Hey, Adam! Fancy you showing up today! Isn’t the weather fantastic?”

A pause, then, “Weather?”

“You know.” Smiley threw him a slightly unnerving grin. “It’s freezing outside and cold in here! It’s great!”

“Right.” He shook his head. “Have you seen Aria? Doc said you might know where she is.”

The look Smiley gave him held a tinge of suspicion; he tugged his glasses off and scrutinized Adam for a long enough time that he started to feel uncomfortable. If he hadn’t already been cold from the air conditioning, he would have been chilled to the bone by the look Smiley gave him now. “Why do you want to know, hmm?”

Adam scowled at him, not liking the accusatory tone. “Phillips said she’s sick and to find her. We need to try to get her to go home before she gets worse.”

“Uh-huh, and is that the whole reason you want–”

“Smiley.”

The other man closed his mouth mid-sentence and turned his back, waving a hand. “Look, I tried to get her to leave, but she wouldn’t budge, so here we are, okay? I even offered some lab coats to keep her warm, but she didn’t look happy with that and just up and left. Said she was going to start some paperwork and wait it out, and that she was going somewhere warm. The warmest place here is the server room, but she doesn’t have a keycard.”

The server room made sense – all those computers, hard drives, and solid-state drives, crammed together, cranking out heat like it could prevent an ice age. “I’ll check just in case.”

“Adam, she doesn’t–”

“Thanks, Smiley, you’ve been helpful.”

The blond gave him an exasperated glance. “Yeah, sure. Go on, then.”

Barely keeping the annoyed expression off his face, he left Forensics and went upstairs, finding it a little warmer, but not by much, as he ascended. There was more than one way into the server room, after all, and if Aria was half as intelligent as he took her for, she had found the one that used the cramped, decrepit ventilation shafts – something that was supposed to have been boarded up, the shafts replaced with smaller piping and the room-sized gaps filled, but Miller simply hadn’t gotten around to it, and it was an easy enough avenue.

With some difficulty, he navigated scaffolding, having to crawl through on his belly more than once, squeezed through one of the vents, and dropped through the ceiling of the alcove beside the main servers. It was just high enough for him to crouch-walk through, allowing him to drop to the floor and look around.

Beneath the din of whirring fans, he spotted a shape huddled in the corner, the cart of tools and boxed parts pushed aside to make room. With her arms around her knees and face in her arms, Aria didn’t look anything like the picture of warmth and strength she usually exuded.

Immediately, he felt the tension in his body fade, and, cold forgotten, he crossed the room to her as lightly as he could and lowered himself to one knee beside her. “Aria? Hey, you awake?”

She lifted her face, and it was pale, her eyes reddish, the circles under them darker than ever. Though it hurt to see her like that, she was still beautiful, her eyes meeting his and that soft smile touching her lips. “Hey, Adam, did Phillips send you after me? She did, didn’t she?”

“She said you were sick and you weren't leaving,” he said, keeping his voice soft. It felt blasphemous, somehow, to break the peace below the sounds of the servers.. “Can you move?”

The smile faded. “No.”

His brow knitted. “Too much pain?”

A long pause followed his words before her eyes closed, and her head bowed forward. “It hurts,” she murmured, voice slightly muffled by her arms. “Feels like needles everywhere.”

Only then did he pick up on the roughness in her voice and the hint of congested sinuses. It had been a long time since he had last been seriously ill, but he could still recall what it felt like, and sympathy flooded his heart. He reached out, slowly, his fingers brushing the back of her natural hand, only to find it icy cold to the touch. The moment he realized that, he closed that hand around hers, willing his warmth into her.

“Why didn’t you stay home?” He moved to sit beside her, back against the wall. It was a tight fit, but somehow, he knew she wouldn’t mind at all.

She moved, eliciting a soft squeak of pain, and he tightened his grip. “Stuff to do.”

“Aria, no,” he murmured. “You know better. Go home.”

“Too cold. Hurts too much.” Lifting her head again, she looked at him with groggy eyes. “Besides, I just need to wait for paperwork, and then I can go home. It takes about two hours, and then I have to...” She sniffed, then took a shaky breath, closing her eyes. “I can’t just leave, Adam. I’m sorry.”

“You can,” he persisted, “you’re just being...” The sensation of her hand shaking in his silenced his chastising; he closed his other hand around it, not knowing what to do. If it were anyone else, he would encourage them to get up, or go get someone to help... but with her, he instead felt some instinct prickling in the back of his mind, one that hadn’t been at the forefront for so long that he couldn’t quite recall it. “You’re freezing,” he said, and dropped the shields off his eyes.

“And you’re warm,” she muttered.

For a long moment, he just held her hand. Another, clearer instinct told him not to open the door any further – he simply couldn’t risk letting someone in, not now, not when he was vulnerable and fighting so hard to find the people responsible for everything that had befallen this world. Letting a friend get close now could risk them being hurt, and he himself wasn’t in the right place, in any way, so what good would it do to–

The second instinct silenced the first. Her skin was cold, a little callused, but the long-forgotten weight of a woman’s hand in his own was something he didn’t realize he had missed as much as he had. No. He hated seeing her like this, and even more, hated just sitting there when he could do something to help. If her body temperature would just rise enough for her to move, she could finish her work and be done.

More than anything, in a single, insane flash of realization, he just wanted to gather her up in his arms and hold her until the pain finally went away.

And he wasn’t sure whose pain he was thinking of.

“Come here,” he murmured, and withdrew his hand to take her far shoulder. He gave a gentle tug, which was enough to get her to turn toward him, but before he could do anything else, she climbed directly over his leg to settle between his thighs, back against his chest, arms and legs folded up against her body, head resting on his shoulder.

He immediately froze, thrown into a momentary state of mild panic at the alien feeling of her strong, shivering body against his. Heart beating a little too fast, he worked his tongue behind his teeth, regained control of himself, battled the instinct to bolt, and leaned slightly forward to shrug his coat off. The sudden kiss of cold air on his upper arms was very unpleasant, but he ignored it and slung the coat over her, easily covering her body and most of his, before wrapping both arms around her shoulders and holding her close against his chest.

“You’re like my own personal space heater that I can hug,” she whispered.

He realized he had begun to tense up and forced himself to relax, amused by her comment. “You can stay here until you’re warm enough to move. If that takes all of those two hours, so be it.”

She hummed softly and snuggled down into his chest, apparently completely heedless of the augs or anything else that could make her at all uncomfortable. Completely befuddled by her utter lack of concern, he just stared at her and the dark half-circles of her long lashes on her pale cheeks. As her breathing slowed and the shivering faded, he reached up with one hand, the backs of his fingers brushing her cheek. So cold, she was, but her skin was so soft.

That hand continued to move, stroking the curve of her jaw, moving to push some of the stray hairs out of her face, then cradling her head and letting his warmth seep into her.

She stirred, enough to readjust her arm, then went still again.

He held her for a good few minutes before slowly realizing she had fallen asleep in his arms, startling him enough that he considered shaking her awake, but he couldn’t bring himself to. Instead, he felt... mesmerized, struck by the reality of this woman being so trusting as to do this, despite knowing full well he was an Aug packed full of military-grade enhancements that made him a highly efficient warrior.

The arms that hid all manner of devices meant for death and destruction were instead holding her as though she were made of sugar glass, half-terrified that she would just dissipate if he moved an inch too far in any direction. He couldn’t fathom the idea of hurting her in any way.

The number of people who gave him vicious side-eyes, or savaged him with slurs that degraded him far below the level of human meant that he had come to expect that reaction. Those who didn’t behave in such a way were wary, and beyond that, the only arguably positive attention he got was that of a woman’s appreciative eye, sizing him up as though he were some product that needed purchasing. He had been hit on numerous times, both obviously and not, and he knew that Aria’s gaze was not platonic. He saw the way she searched his eyes, the sweet tinge in her smile, how she always had one to spare for him, and the warmth her worry always brought to his heart.

Reflexively, he tightened his arms around her. She was strong, too, once a Marine and always a Marine, as the saying went, but the twinge of a desire to protect her bled into him.

He wasn’t sure how long he held her, mind drifting away with the sound of the servers around him. Though he wasn’t at all groggy, he still felt the pull of sleep, perhaps lured in by the sensation of a woman in his arms. The shivering had long ago ceased completely, and between himself and the coat, the cold seemed to have been banished from her body, leaving her sleeping soundly against his chest, breathing slow and steady. As he looked down again, debating whether to wake her, he decided to check the time before doing anything further.

It had been an hour since he had walked in here.

He immediately swallowed the bubble of anxiety, and instead kept gazing down at her. An hour, spent in peaceful silence, with her, exactly the way it should be. Willingly, she had crawled into his arms, clung to him, and slept peacefully, without any disturbance and no hint of the pain he knew she felt with wakefulness.

“Aria. Hey.” As gently and quietly as he could manage, he said her name into her ear, having to lean down a little to do it, but when he got that close, he breathed in the scent of something cool and fresh – citrus, if he had to guess. She was sick, yet had still taken the time to make herself smell fine enough.

After a few moments, she stirred at last, shaking him out of his pleasant haze. “That time already?”

“It’s been about an hour.”

She lifted her head, blinking, only to let it fall to his shoulder again, only looking up at him this time. With the sleepy atmosphere, weight of his coat over both of them, and press of her body, he found the idea of leaving such an unpleasant one that the very thought made him just settle in more. “Do we have to?” she murmured, offering a slow blink and the faint twinge of a half-smile.

His right hand rose to very slowly stroke the backs of her fingers across her cheek. “Sooner or later.”

Again, she blinked, then said, “I’ve never seen your eyes before. Pretty.”

Now it was his turn to blink. “Sarif’s best work.”

“Well... there’s that, but...” With the slight rustle of fabric, she lifted her left hand to his cheek, and the feeling of her now-warm skin on his sent a jolt down his spine. Every nerve there tingled under her touch – the unfamiliar brush of a hand, the slow, gentle tracing of her fingers along his jaw. “They’re amazing. Beautiful, you know? Is that why nobody gets to see them, ever? Or is there some other reason?”

The brush of her fingers tangled all his rational thoughts up in a knot. The only thing that managed to wriggle free was please don’t stop. “It’s... uh... there’s another...” Losing control of his ability to speak really wasn’t like him at all, and it terrified him, but he couldn’t pull away. Didn’t want to.

“Are you hiding?” Her brow furrowed, eyes meeting his, and he had to struggle to keep himself grounded. “Why would you hide? Are you afraid of something?”

Only of you. He felt tremors traveling down his spine, and his lips prickled as his gaze drifted around her face. “It’s... it’s kind of complicated, so we’ll... go with... that.” Again, his tongue slipped, and the entire knot of his thoughts grabbed more as they drifted by, silencing the whirlwind constantly howling in his heart.

“Did someone hurt you?”

Not sure how to answer, he just looked at her, and knew his eyes betrayed his thoughts when her own filled with worry and looked a little shinier than usual. Her hand moved again, smoothing up his jaw, cooler than the rest of his body, but not too much so, and into his hair. When it slid down, onto the curve of his neck, he seized his knot of thoughts just in time to keep them from collapsing, but his heart was pounding, and he didn’t know why, he didn’t know, he didn’t want to know, but he couldn’t pull himself away, didn’t want to–

“You’re here, trying to save everybody, even the people who probably don’t deserve it,” she murmured, voice still slightly hoarse. “But who’s gonna save you, huh? Who takes care of you?”

Cracks appeared in the shell around the knot; he swallowed, wondering how they had gone from trying to warm her up and get her home to her prodding at parts of himself he tried to keep hidden. How did she see? How was it that she could look at him and see a thousand things he guarded behind steel walls and razor wire?

“I’m alright,” he said, but even to his own ears, he sounded pathetic.

To his relief, and a blast of disappointment, she nodded and lowered her gaze... but her hand stayed put, fingertips slowly kneading the muscle in his neck. With some effort, he regained control of his breathing, but the conflict of wanting to stay here and yet run for the nearest exit made it impossible to think.

“Adam, you’re trembling.”

He sucked in a breath. “Probably just cold, no thanks to you.”

“So, it’s my fault, huh?” A sparkle of mischief entered her eyes, but only for a moment. “So, don’t mind me asking, when’s the last time somebody did this with you? You know, just... sat with you?”

The words wouldn’t form right. “Aria... I just...”

“You’ve been hurt, badly, haven’t you? I’m... sorry, Adam, and I wish... I wish I could help you.” Her eyes left his, then returned, her hand moving back to his cheek. The memory of Zhao using this same technique on him came rushing back, but he knew, instinctively, this was different, and he knew from her behavior that only something warm waited behind her eyes, and that her words were exactly what they sounded like.

His gaze drifted to her lips, suddenly overcome with the desire to know what they felt like on his.

Shame burned like bile in his throat at the thought.

“You’re so beautiful, but you’re so sad,” she murmured, her voice so full of warmth and... and love that he struggled to contain the emotions rushing the fortress around his heart. “Always sad, and so far away. I wish I knew why you hurt. I wish I knew how to help you, but I can’t, can I?”

This time, her name toppled out of his mouth and broke apart in midair. There was no hiding any of this now, and no matter how much he wanted to, there was no denying the love in her voice, in her eyes, in her soft, sweet touch on his cheek, and he felt his throat constrict as something inside finally snapped.

Bending toward her, he stopped inches from her lips, letting her make the final decision, and she did, pulling him close and bringing their lips together. Heat spread over his body, flooding him with warmth and feeling, sending his thought spinning out and leaving a comfortable silence in their absence. Hugging her shoulders, not caring about her illness, heedless of his fear, he kept her close to him, kissing her lips, giving in, falling apart.

Her lips parted as she wound her fingers in his hair, still resting her shoulder against his chest, taking a deep breath through her nose before letting it out and sending it whisking over his skin. He took advantage of the change in position to deepen the kiss, tilting his head further, capturing her whole mouth with his, the pressure and heat of her lips making it impossible to form any rational thoughts, and he didn’t want to.

This wasn’t what he had come back here for. He didn’t want to let anyone in. He couldn’t. It was too dangerous. It scared him in a raw, primal way, and his body trembled, his heart hammering against his ribs, breathing ragged, but he wanted her, needed her, and it was dangerous, and he was going to get hurt, she was going to get hurt, but he loved her, quietly and simply and so very deeply, and he was so unbelievably scared.

Their lips separated with a soft sound, bringing him stumbling headlong back to the real world, his lips cold in her absence and his body still trembling faintly.

But then her lips moved to his cheek, kissing the arch of the bone there, the hollow beneath it, and he clung to her, not knowing what else to do.

“I’m here, anytime you need me, okay?” She whispered close to his ear, arms around his neck, inhaling a little when she moved – pain, if he had to guess – and snuggled down into his shoulder, letting him pull the coat a little tighter around them and wrapping his arms as tight around her as was safe. “It’s not much, but... hmm. I didn’t think you’d actually kiss me, but... I’m... I’m not complaining.”

Despite himself, he managed an amused chuckle at that. “Don’t get used to it,” he said, but lowered his face into her neck.

“Yeah? What do I have to do to get another one of these days?”

He closed his eyes. “Start by going home and resting.”

“Hard to do that when you’re hugging me, Adam,” she muttered, but he could hear the amusement in her voice. As the last of the tension and confused eased out of his body, he was left feeling as though he’d made some terrible error, but he still couldn’t bring himself to untangle his body from hers.

“Not like you have to go home now,” was his muttered response, lips grazing her neck and eliciting a slight, soft intake of breath from her. “Just... promise me you will.”

Resting her head in the curve of his neck, arms still around it, she whispered, “Promise.”

[bellatrixobsessed1]

I’ll Meet You At The Bottom (Part 48)

Edit: Fixed the chapter number lmao.

It had been such a foolish and reckless move and she knew it. She knew it the minute she stepped out and toppled forward, but she had already put her pride on the line and she would stick to her decision. She drew the hood over her head and trudged on. The village was even smaller than she thought it would be. In due time it would probably span out, from the looks of it a construction project was already well underway. Azula stuffed her mittened hands into her pockets and gazed at some food stalls. The pungent stench of sea prune stew warded her off immediately. Body still warm with anger, the temperature hadn’t yet registered. She had other matters on her mind. Just like Iroh, Sokka was blaming her. Unlike her uncle, Sokka was probably right. All of her own accusations she put forward to convince herself that it wasn’t her fault that he’d left, but she couldn’t persuade Sokka anymore than she could persuade herself. Deep in thought she found herself wandering away from the village and the vile dead-fish smell wafting from it.

She wouldn’t go too far.

She would only go straight.

 .oOo.

 Sokka was silently thankful that his village was so small, there weren’t too many places for the princess to hide there. Granted he had given her plenty of time to move about as he tried to explain himself to her fuming mother. He couldn’t have been more thankful for Iroh’s intervention. Though side-eyeing each other the entire time they agreed to let their children fight their own battles. Azula had an hour on him, he just hoped that, that hour had been enough to put her back into a more rational state of mind. He first checked the clothing stands and then the food stalls. And when he found her browsing through none of the shops he began walking around the residential area, still no resentful firebender.  

 He made his way back to the food stall and to the merchant inquired, “Have you seen a firebender? Kinda short, really mad.”

 The saleswoman shook her head. “Didn’t even realize we had any firebenders here.”

 “Okay, thanks.” He muttered dejectedly. He repeated his question to various others. Only one person mentioned seeing Azula but that was as far as the lead went. Again he found himself utterly shocked, she had really left the security of the village? He rubbed his temples, trying not to stress himself out too much. She is smart, resourceful and the like. He couldn’t see her losing her way and yet he could never picture someone so agile stumbling over—unless she had a drink or two. But she had, the Water Tribes were unfamiliar territory and he worried that she was overestimating herself or underestimating the fury of the land or both at once.

 The snow was beginning to fall again, he was sure that she would be absolutely thrilled.

  He reentered the house to ill news spoken in hushed whispers. “Are you sure?” Ursa asked again for what he assumed was reaching an uncountable number of times.

 “I’ve lived here all of my life, Fire Lady Ursa, I know how to spot a blizzard and I know how to tell when it’s a bad one. I’ve been warning Hakoda for days now to call off his hunting trip…” he turned to Hakoda, “I expect a thank you when the wind starts howling and you’re not out in it.”

 “He’s going to be out in it.” Sokka grimaced. “Because she’s not in the village.”

 .oOo.

 Azula squinted against the arctic wind. Snowflakes whirled in front of her face. Earlier in the day the flakes were small and fluttering, almost serene like cold dandelion fluffs. They were quickly stirring into an intense frenzy and bringing about a more frigid temperature. The firebender herself was growing colder. She had thought that her nose was red the night before, she cupped her hands over it trying to get at least a little more warmth. It had been rather mild just that morning, the whether was shifting at a rate comparable to Sokka’s moods. So she found that she couldn’t see much at all beyond the length of her arm. Even if she couldn’t it probably wouldn’t matter.

Everything looked the same.

White and barren and cruel.

Lifeless.

 Azula shivered, she had only gone straight, but somewhere along the lines, what straight meant was growing ambiguous and she wasn’t quite sure that she truly had been going straight at all. She simply trudged in the direction she thought she had come from. North, south, east, west, that also mattered little—none of the four bore any sign that she had been there.

 She removed her mittens to offer herself some fire. Immediately the cold snapped at her hands. Her fingers had already begun to tingle with the cold and without the coverage of those mittens, she could see how concerningly read they were growing. After only a moment of firebending she let the flame die and put her mittens back on—the urge to set herself on fire just to be-rid of the cold was alarmingly strong.  

 Azula sniffled and shivered, wondering just how long it had been since she was out there. She already knew that ‘too long’ was a sufficient answer. The sun dipping lower in the sky only served to reiterate. Walking on seemed to be growing harder as the depth of the snow rose and her own body temperature lowered. She had to find somewhere, anywhere that wasn’t the wide open, merciless tundra.

 .oOo.

 The ocean, the snow, everything that made a Water Tribesfolk a Water Tribesfolk were the things that kept taking from him. Taking and never giving. Again he found himself to blame. He’d fought Suki and she ended up at the bottom of the ocean. He fought Azula and she would probably rest beneath a mountain of snow. Bato refused to join the search party, “no sense in all of us dying out there on a fool’s errand.” He had said. And so it was he, his father, Ursa, and Iroh. Pakku had joined them for some time, but retreated to check on Gran. Conditions were only worsening. Even Hakoda was seeming reluctant by then, reiterating that if they go any further they might become lost themselves. He could call out to Azula, but the wind would only out cry him. The landscape before him stretched on and on without a landmark in sight.

 .oOo.

 For all of those weeks spent alone in the Forgetful Valley surrounded by strange and menacing presences, Azula had never dreaded nightfall more than she did in present. Night’s awakening would bring a piercing chill like no other. She couldn’t tell if her eyes were watering from the unrelenting wind or from complete despair. She was a tough woman, stronger than most, but she couldn’t fight the elements at their rawest. Her entire body quaked but she couldn’t afford to let herself pitch over, Agni forbid if she did, she would never get up again. She pulled her coat closer to herself, as if the gesture would help at all.

The heat of her fire chakara was cooling rapidly in her stomach. She guessed that her inner fire was almost smothered in full. She removed her mittens again, her hands had never looked so red, it almost hurt to bring fire to them. She held the flames hazardously close to her face, it was better than the cold. But it was not enough. She tried stuffing her hands back into the mittens but it was difficult. So difficult. She could barely feel her fingers at all. And her cheeks were beginning to sting, soon they would lose feeling too.

 She ought to cry out in anguish, but there was no point. She didn’t want to let the cold in anymore either.

 Azula squinted, off in the distance she could make out a massive structure jutting from the snow. With what little energy she had conserved, she pushed herself towards it.

 .oOo.

 Ursa and Iroh had been forced to retreat. Ursa wouldn’t leave without a time-wasting fight, but in the end Iroh managed to drag her back to the shelter as she muttered something about how she’d just only begun to love her daughter as she should and that it wasn’t right for the spirits to do this. But she was growing to weak herself, to be of any help.

 It was just he and his father again. His father who was casting sympathetic looks at him as if Azula were already dead.

 Deep down he knew that Bato was probably right, this was a hopeless quest. Perhaps it would be best to retreat after all. The sooner he accepted defeat, the sooner he could get the mourning process over with again. “I can’t do it again, dad.” He whispered. “I just can’t.”

 Hakoda squeezed his shoulder.

 He quickly swiped at his tears before they could freeze to his cheek. Upon looking up, with his vision freshly clear, he could see the elk. The elk with the dazzlingly blue eyes.

 .oOo.

 She was growing weak with cold and her body was too frosty-ridden to produce any flame. The snow clung to her lashes and hair. The wetness of it had her locks sticking together. She was shaking violently, it was like the seizure all over again and just as uncontrollable. But she had made it. She huddled herself inside of the glacier. She couldn’t guarantee that nothing vile dwelled within nor could she promise herself that the ice wouldn’t crack and fall upon her. But the absolute certainty that she would die out in the open, pushed her into the icy shelter.

 With no other moves at her disposal she lay down on the ground and let the snow that drifted in cover her. A light dusting of it covered the upturned parts of her body in due time. At first all she could do was shiver. And soon even that became too much effort, so she stopped doing that too.

[kuriquinn]

Telanadas [4/19]

Cover Page & Disclaimer

first chapter

The storm continues through the night and into the morning, persisting long after dawn’s first light. The members of the outfit sit in silence, distractedly playing cards or dice as they wait for the sharp wind to subside and the sun to pierce the constant cover of clouds.

When the blowing snow and ice subsist, but still does not give way to light, Kakashi ventures from the cave to scout their surroundings. His magic affords him the ability to transform into a creature more inclined toward frigid temperatures, and with senses more useful than a human’s.

“Too bad he can’t cast that on us,” Naruto grumbles. “I wish I had a fur coat right now…”

“With our luck, we would end up stuck as forest creatures with him forgetting to undo the spell,” Sasuke points out.

“I guess…”

“Don’t be so critical. Kakashi’s a talented mage,” Sakura says loyally. Off their unimpressed expressions, she goes on to admit, “When he’s not getting distracted by every old lady or black cat crossing the street.”

While waiting for the mage to return, the three of them continue their game of Wicked Grace, though it is only out of habit. For whatever reason, when the three of them play, the game always ends up in a three-way deadlock. Sakura and Sasuke are equals in strategy and Naruto appears to have the luck of the gods; Sasuke would accuse him of cheating if it were not for the fact the other man cannot lie to save his life.

A shadow lurks in the entrance of the cave, and they all glance up at the giant bear that looms over them. The beast gives a deliberate shake of its shoulders, knocking thick deposits of snow off, and then begins to shift. A moment later, Kakashi stands there, appearing mildly disgruntled.

 “The way is somewhat clear,” he tells them. “It is not the best condition. There are snow drifts everywhere, and the wind is still like a knife. But we will be able to see more than a few feet in front of us.”

“Oh, great. So, if we’re about to go over a cliff, we’ll at least be able to see the way down,” Naruto complains.

“No sign of any temple, though, cursed or otherwise,” Kakashi continues. “It will be just our luck if we end up having the climb the whole mountain before we reach it.”

“This Kaguya person is more trouble than she is worth,” Sasuke mutters.

“Well, the legend does say the temple is at the very top of this peak,” Sakura says with a shrug. “The odds of us finding it soon are a fool’s hope.”

They make quick work of packing the rest of their gear before bundling themselves once more against the cold. Kakashi bewitches several small stones to emit a comfortable warmth, setting them into their gloves and boots, and then they are off.

Just as the day before, wind slashes at them like a Suna raiding party, coming from every direction and without warning. Luckily, it is not laden with snow or ice anymore, or they would be blinded. Still, the whites of Sasuke’s eyes freeze if he opens his lids beyond a squint.

Kakashi was not joking about the snowdrifts, either. They are high and unyielding, forcing them all into an ungainly march that has Sasuke’s calves and thighs burning at the repetitive movement.

The shortest of their party, Sakura has the worst of it, though she does her best to soldier on. Despite her efforts, she slows them down even just following behind the taller men. Deciding they will be stuck out in the cold that much longer if they wait for her, Sasuke grabs her pack and tosses it to Naruto. Before the man can question it, Sasuke then orders Sakura to clamber onto his back.

“What?!” she demands, face red in a manner that is more embarrassment than the assault of cold on her cheeks. “N-no, I’m fine, I can manage—”

“You will manage to get left behind and lost,” he informs her gruffly. “Gird your pride for another day. When we are in Iwa drinking your dwarven liquor. For today, I want to get out of this weather.”

“He does have a point, Sakura, even if he is being remarkably blunt about it,” Kakashi agrees. “At least endure it until we get to more steady ground. The higher we get, the more solid the ground will be.”

She spares another half a second in consideration, before nodding, and clambering up on Sasuke’s back. As she settles into place, she does not notice the way Kakashi’s eyes crinkle or the outline of his mouth beneath his mask. Sasuke does, and knows the older man is smirking at him, but ignores it.

“Just do not fall off or choke me,” he informs Sakura as they continue onward.

“Right,” she says, sounding a little breathless. “Are you sure I’m not too heavy for you? I could get Naruto to—”

“It is fine,” he cuts her off, hefting her once to get a better grip under her thighs. It does not escape his attention that this is the closest they have ever been, or the most they have touched since they met. Or that the weight of her against his back is more comfortable than he would have thought.

“Hey, asshole, don’t you dare try anything funny,” Naruto calls back to him, scowling at Sasuke in annoyance. He is ridiculously overprotective of his fellow Warden, and while it is easy to ignore most of the time, right now it is a little more difficult than usual.

Especially with the growing warmth of her body so close to his.

Teeth gritted, Sasuke sets off forward, stalking past the other two until they hurry to catch up.

The rest of the journey is thankfully silent. Sasuke is so focussed on the weather and not dropping his charge that need not dwell on troublesome notions.

It may be an hour, perhaps more, when they finally experience a break.

The wind dies down, and the sun pierces through the cloud cover, illuminating their path in front of them. Even better, the snow is more stable now, and there is no longer any danger of becoming mired waist-deep in it.

“You can let me down now,” Sakura says quietly in his ear. Sasuke disguises his shiver by immediately relinquishing his hold on her, allowing her to drop gracefully to her feet. “Let me know if I can return the favour sometime.”

“I doubt there will ever be an occasion where you need to carry me,” he says stiffly.

Something like hurt flashes across her face at this, which bothers him, because he was not intending to be insulting. He simply cannot fathom a situation where he would be injured or unconscious to such an extent that he could not soldier through it.

Before he can tell her so, there’s a shout from Naruto. “Look!”

They both glance up. It takes a moment, and then they see it: village in the distance.

“Yes!” Naruto punches his fist in the air. “We can finally get out of this frozen hell and get a homecooked meal! And maybe even sleep in an actual bed!”

Sasuke privately thinks the village will not have much of either. The pathetic collection of hovels is overshadowed by trees and rock outcroppings, so that even as the afternoon sunlight shines, the village remains shrouded in night.

“I can barely believe it,” Sakura says, wandering away from Sasuke, their minor interchange apparently forgotten. “What sort of people would choose to settle up here?”

“Ask Sasuke,” Naruto sniggers. “It probably looks like paradise for him.”

“As long as you are not present, it could be,” Sasuke replies, but his distraction takes the tartness out of his reply. The village exudes an aura of foreboding he has only experienced once. When he was a child, he and Itachi stumbled onto the ruins of an elven temple. The stench of death and darkness hung there like the air of a crypt, and it is the same feeling he gets from this village.

Still, there is no point or purpose to turning around now. With their quest demanding they search this place, and without any other possibility of shelter for miles, this damned hamlet is their only terminus.

The approach is silent and grim, and Sasuke can sense his comrades anxiety. Everyone seems ready to spring at a moment’s notice. Every step closer to the village, the atmosphere of wrongness increases.

It is not improved as they wander past the first eerie, shabby houses. Trees that appear more dead than alive sprout haphazardly out of the snowy paths. In the distance, a small dock floats with one lone boat moored on a lake that has likely never unfrozen. More of the miserable houses, shacks of mismatched wood, dot the slope up the mountainside. Abandoned wagons and farm gear litter the frozen, winding paths.

But the most disconcerting thing about this whole place is the utter silence that reigns. Sasuke can hear no people, nor animals. It is as if the very whisper of the wind through the trees is missing in this place.

The hair on the back of his neck stands on end.

They have not gone far when they are suddenly joined by another presence. As if appearing by magic, a leather-faced, hollow-eyed man in tattered armour appears.

“What are you doing in Rōran?” he demands.

He addresses Naruto, barely taking notice of the other three behind him; it is a human quirk Sasuke knows well. People immediately assume that Naruto is the leader of their outfit because he is both a human and a warrior. Sasuke’s ears and Sakura’s small build, as well as Kakashi’s staff, cause humans to view them as no more than second-class.

It is a fiction Sakura encourages, if only because of the use in enemies misjudging which of their group presents the most danger.

“There’s nothing for you here,” the sentry insists.

“How do you know that?” Naruto challenges cheerfully. “I could be a merchant with many useful items and wares that people here would benefit from.”

The guard is not impressed. “You haven’t got a cart. And you all look like you’re starving, not selling.”

“Never mind that,” Kakashi interrupts. “We have business here.”

“No, you don’t. I’d’ve been informed if anyone was expecting…” his eyes rove over them judgementally, “visitors.”

“We’re looking for information,” Sakura pipes up, “and once we have it, we can be on our way.”

“Hmph. Perhaps Revered Father Mukade will know of what you seek. Unfortunately, he’s ministering to the villagers now and can’t be disturbed.”

“Then why mention him?” Sasuke mutters under his breath.

It is clear the man does not intend to tell them anything useful, even if he were privy to it. The group tacitly agree not to mention their actual quest, and Sakura instead suggests, “Maybe you can offer us some answers then.”

“Ask and be on your way.”

“Is there anyone else who might know the goings on in the area? An elder, or even a barkeep?”

“We’ve neither.”

“Do you know where the next nearest settlement is then?”

“No.”

Sakura does not exactly frown, but her mouth firms a little. Her eyes flit to Sasuke, and her head makes an incremental move to one side that suggests there is no point to continuing this.

“Can you point us in the direction of somewhere to gather provisions, then?” Kakashi asks. “If we can resupply and rest for a spell, we can be out of here as soon as possible.”

The guard gives him a sour look, clearly wanting to deny him, but thinks better on it.

“There’s a general supply store up the ways,” he tells them grudgingly. “Won’t be much there, but it’s better than nothing.”

“Thanks,” Sakura says, plastering a false smile on her face and prodding a scowling Naruto ahead of her.

The sentry watches them as they head in the direction he indicated, and even when he is far behind them, Sasuke continues to feel his eyes.

“Anyone else feel the cold, icy fingers of dread up their spine?” Naruto asks under his breath. “That guy was disturbing.”

“That is not the only thing that worries me,” Kakashi agrees quietly. “I have never heard of a Revered Father within the Chantry hierarchy.

“And where are all the people?” Sakura adds. “They can’t all be asleep or out working, can they? You’d the think there’d be women and children about.”

As they enter the village proper, Sasuke moves closer to Sakura, angling slightly downward to murmur, “You have no intention of just getting supplies, do you?”

“No,” she agrees. “But they say it’s better to ask forgiveness than permission. Is he still watching us?”

“Hm.”

“I will deal with this,” Kakashi replies, and covertly flicks his fingers. A wispy green cloud flickers in the surrounding air, and then dissipates before it truly takes form. “I can have this swarm lead him on a bit of a chase while we look around.”

But it turns out there is not much to see.

Though they pass many houses, more than they expected at first glance, they all appear empty. Once Naruto tries to catch a peek through the dirty, frost-covered windows, but the spying yields nothing.

“You shouldn’t do that.”

Everyone jumps as—in the same manner as the lone sentry—a skinny, wan child appears, like the sentry, as if out of nowhere.

“Why are you here?” he presses.

Sakura moves forward, offering the boy a kind smile. “We’re just travellers passing through.”

“Why would you travel here?” he asks bluntly. “Lowlanders don’t belong here.”

“We can really, really see that,” Naruto murmurs to himself.

“I remember some Lowlanders like you,” the boy goes on, unaware or uncaring. “They left…I think. I never saw them again.” Sasuke and Kakashi exchange significant looks. “I doubt I’ll see you again.”

He walks away without warning, singing softly to himself in an unnerving monotone.

“All in favour of getting the hell out of here?” Naruto suggests.

“Not yet,” Sakura says and nods to something up ahead: the supply store of which the sentry spoke. “If there’s a merchant of some sort there, I bet he’ll know something.”

The store itself is homely, but surprisingly, the sallow-skinned shopkeeper is a little more forthcoming than his fellow villagers.

“You’re not from Rōran,” he says, tone more surprised than unkind.

“Everyone says that as if we are not aware of that fact,” Kakashi remarks mildly.

“Well we…we don’t get many visitors,” the man says, honest enough, but he sounds nervous.

“This place is so remote,” Sakura agrees. “Can you tell us about it?”

The man shrugs noncommittally. “How would you describe the place you only know as home?”

Something is not right in here, Sasuke decides, studying the barren walls of the store. There is a familiar tang in the air that should not be in a merchant’s abode.

“I can think of a few words about mine,” Naruto snorts.

“We need to resupply,” Kakashi says. “Basic rations, healing kits, blankets…”

“I don’t have much, but I suppose you can take a look,” the man says, as if it’s not his business to see to the needs of customers.

The falseness of the entire thing begins to grate on Sasuke, and while Sakura starts to barter with the man, he wanders around the room. As he explores farther away from the counter, the sharp smell in the air becomes more pronounced. It appears to be coming from a door to the back of the store.

Sasuke frowns and moves forward.

“Hey! What are you doing?!” the shopkeeper snaps. “That’s private!”

“I smell blood,” he replies. That is all it takes for the sallow-faced man to give a sudden unholy shriek and throw himself over the counter at Sakura.

The move is so surprising, she does not react until he has knocked her to the ground, throwing her elbows back to catch herself. He is already pulling something from his belt, a dagger gleaming in the dim light of the store.

“Sakura, watch out!”

Comments and concrit are much appreciated, and very motivating! For information about supporting my original, non-fandom related works, you’re welcome to check out my ko-fi tip jar, or my patreon page. 

栗

Next Chapter

[thedarkenedkeeper]

Glitched: Part 9 - No Strings Attached

Author's Note: *drags self along the ground, bloodied and beaten up, and hands over the newest chapter* I...I'm alive...barely...HOLY X_X

I'm not going to give anything away about this chapter, however, there will be an ending author's note, elaborating why this chapter is crucial to the story.

WARNING: This chapter is incredibly dark and graphic. For anyone who read Part 6, it's basically a lot like that. There is a horrible sense of dread and horror throughout the chapter. There is a detailed description of a surgical operation being performed, as well as the tools that are used. The patient who undergoes the surgery is conscious during the procedure, and as such, feels everything and is in horrible agony. There is bloodshed and a intensity here and there. There is also an overwhelming amount of angst - again.

Listen to this playlist while reading

Enjoy!

Tick tock, tick tock, tick tock – 3:56 P.M. – four minutes remaining.

Tick tock, tick tock – Three minutes.

Tick tock – Two minutes.

With each subtle second that ticked by, the green-haired Irishman’s dread increased. There he sat on the stone-cold ground in the furthest corner of the cell, hugging his knees to his chest. The poor man was a quivering mess from both the cold and the fear creeping along his spine. His eyes were fixed on the watch that lay across from him, not batting an eye as he stared directly at it; lifeless eyes blown wide with horror. He had exactly two minutes left to live and then Anti was coming for him.

Two minutes and then death was coming for him in the flesh.

He tensed up, his grip tightening around his legs. He wasn’t ready to die. He may have been caged in this hell for nine whole months, all hope lost and gone forever. He may have been tortured both physically and mentally more times than he could count, and this room he was in may have been the reason for why he was rotting from the inside out. But no matter how bad it was getting, no matter how horrific and brutal, he was not ready for death. He was afraid of it, especially when it took on the form of an unhinged version of himself welding a large knife.

Jack had heard the scream for help – just barely, but he had made it out. Immediately, he had lifted his head to look off into the darkness, adrenaline and dread coursing through his veins. That scream had sounded an awful lot like it had belonged to Henrik, and if it had…the YouTuber couldn’t even begin to fathom the thought of what could’ve happened.

Jack shivered violently, a gust of cool air rushing past the back of his neck. The temperature had dropped sufficiently in the last hour, so much so to the point he was starting to see his own breath. Funny – when he had first found himself in the cage, the room had been sweltering hot, and now it was the exact opposite. He didn’t know which would’ve been worse – dying from the heat or from the freezing cold. He scoffed at the question. Death – that’s all he found himself thinking about lately. He didn’t want it, and yet his mind always managed to wander off into complete darkness. A weak nervous chuckle left his chapped trembling lips. Funny…

Tick tock, tick tock

Releasing a shaken breath, followed by a faint raspy gasp that almost came out as a whimper, the brows of the Irishman weaved out of distress at what the watch now read.

4:00 P.M – it was too late. It was time for his execution.

Without a second thought, Jack’s eyes shot up to the door off in the distance, all of the blood draining from his face as he made out loud stomping coming from out in the hall; storming towards the room. He gulped painfully, barely being able to swallow anything given just how dry and stale his throat was. He was going to die, Anti was going to kill him right here, right now. Tears were beginning to come back for the millionth time, his eyes stinging from how sore they had become. His time was up – he had had his chance to try and escape and he blew it. He and the others were all going to die today and there wasn’t a thing he could do. He truly was a dead man.

The poor man nearly jumped out of his skin and yelped when the door suddenly burst open violently with a bang; blinding white light flooding into the room for a brief moment as a figure stormed in. He knew who it was – he could tell given just how cold his blood had gone. Through the darkness, the green-haired man managed to make out the glitch pacing around the room, signature kitchen knife in his grasp, and he appeared to be angry – beyond furious, actually. Jack was already a broken man and couldn’t think clearly, but he honestly hadn’t the slightest idea what could’ve been causing the demon to be in such a horrible mood. The Irishman had seen him mad before and that had been truly terrifying, but this time…this time was so much different than the last.

Anti’s entire form was completely distorted, twitching and jerking in every which direction wildly. With each step he took, the ground at his feet would seem to pixelate and glitch spastically; the same went for any of the shadows surrounding his body. It was like parts of the void were breaking and struggling to stay intact like Anti was. The entity could not remain stable and in control of himself. Multiple projections of him came into view, all of which were incredibly demented and displaying manic behavior. They were all flickering by so fast Jack could barely make them all out, but a few caught his attention, in particular one dealing with the demon tugging his head back violently and slitting his already bleeding throat. He was cursing and growling repeatedly, his voice reaching a whole new level of unsettling intimidation. It was scratchy, deep, and completely laced with static. Anti had had his moments of sounding demonic and reminding Jack that he wasn’t human, but this did it in for the Irishman. Jack kept his eyes transfixed on the demon, not daring to say a word. Even if he wanted to, he didn’t think he could get anything out. He was paralyzed with fear, and at the moment, he was just waiting for his alter ego to come and finish him off once and for all.

“I DoN’t FUcKiNg BeLiEVe iT! THoSe FuCkERs cAn’T mAkE Up ThEiR DamN miNdS, CAn tHEy? CAN THEY?!”

The YouTuber cringed at hearing the unhinged creature. He watched as a patch of shadows morphed into pixels before materializing to reveal page after page of posts on the internet. He couldn’t fully make out what the posts were about – his vision was beginning to go in and out of focus due to how drained he was – but whatever it was, Anti did NOT like it.

“LOoK aT tHiS!” He scoffed, a smile flashing across his face briefly. “WhAt THe fUCk iS ThiS?!” A growl rumbled out from deep within him, a sinister laugh chasing after it. “Do THeY tHiNk THiS iS aLL sOMe SoRT oF JoKe? HoW fUCkiNg STuPiD aRe tHEy?! ArE tHeY brAiNDeAD?! WhAT, dO tHEy tHiNk tHEy cAn GeT riD Of ME, iS tHaT iT? THeY cAN’t GEt Rid Of mE! ThEy cAN nEVeR geT riD Of ME! I Am ETERNAL!” In a blurring motion, the unstable being drove his knife into the screen, causing it to momentarily glitch out and flicker; the darkness surrounding it also struggling to remain intact.

Jack jumped at the sudden action, a hitched breath getting pulled from his lips. Though Anti was standing still in front of the damaged screen that was now lined with cracks weaving out from where the blade was stuck, the Irishman could clearly tell he was tearing apart at the seams. His body was very much a blur given how intensely it was vibrating, jerking, and glitching out. That childish eerie giggle – the one that always instantly managed to drive fear into the Irishman – reverberated around the room, coming out more delighted than ever before.

“ThEy’Re MaKiNG a MOcKeRy Of ME! ThEY’rE tAkiNG mY WoRdS aNd MoRPhiNg ThEm iNTo OnE b-bi-i-iG J-JoKE!” His head seemed to lag for a moment, twitching to the right only to stutter and stop briefly before returning forward once again. He growled, clutching his head and tugging at his hair harshly. “ThAT dAmNEd NaME! ThAt FuCKiNg NaMe – I hAtE iT! I FUCKING HATE IT!” His body gave a fierce surge forward and he sent a fist flying into the screen, pixels cutting into his knuckles and damaging the screen further. It was barely even readable now; lines of static racing across it every few seconds.

Jack’s heart gave a painful pang in his chest. The community – he was talking about the community. Shifting his eyes to the broken screen, he squinted in an attempt to make out what was enraging the beast. From what he could tell, the posts were all in regards to a video Anti had uploaded, and it seemed the fandom had gone and taken bits and pieces of Anti’s rant and turned him into a joke. They were all mocking him. They weren’t afraid of him anymore, they weren’t taking him seriously, and at this realization, the green-haired man felt his stomach drop. If what they were doing was causing Anti to get this consumed by rage, there was no telling what the demon would do. He could snap at any given moment. The community had no idea who was truly in control here – who really held the power. Anti could easily wipe out all of the egos and Jack himself if he wanted to. With a snap of his fingers, they could all cease to exist.

Anti retracted his now bleeding hand from the screen, the torn skin materializing and piecing itself back together instantly. He began pacing the room again, strong vibrations from each step rippling through the room and causing the ground to tremble, only making Jack jump and curl in on himself. Even the cage he was locked in flickered for a brief moment.

“OnE mOMeNt tHEy WaNt mE, AnD tHe NeXT, thEy CLaiM tHeY dOn’T? WHicH iS iT?! Am I nOt gOoD ENoUgH fOr THeM?!” The violent entity screeched at the screen, arms flailing from left to right out of an ugly hybrid of annoyance and rage. And from where Jack was cowering in the corner, he could make out a hint of confusion as well. “ThEY mADe Me WhAt I aM! ThEy GaVe mE liFe, ThEy BrOuGhT mE iNTo tHiS GOdDamN FiLtHy WOrLd! ThEy LoVeD mE, tHeY WAnTeD mE tO Be A REaLitY, aND tHaT’s EXaCtLy WhAt tHEy gOt! I’m HeRe NoW, aNd THIS is HoW thEy TReAt mE?!”

His entire body flickered spastically, one second showing him yanking on his hair and screaming, another of him strangling himself horribly to the point his eyes looked like they were going to pop out of his head. The ground was quivering again, parts of the room cracking and materializing here and there. Jack’s eyes flew across the darkened hell, his breaths coming out as laboured gasps; heart racing with trepidation, afraid the void was going to somehow collapse in on itself. With Anti in control of Jack’s physical body, he also had full control over the void, and being how the entity was already an unstable mess, then the void would become the exact same way. If Anti couldn’t keep himself in control, there was no way of determining the fate of the void.

“I gAvE tHEm WhAt tHeY-eY w-wAnTeD!” The demon screamed, his head once again freezing up for a fleeting second. “THeY wAnTEd yOU gOnE aNd OuT Of tHe PiCtuRe,” Unexpectedly, his head gave an unnatural cringe-worthy jerk in Jack’s direction. His eyes were cloaked an inky black, staring furiously at his pathetic excuse of a host. The Irishman’s heart skipped a beat as he tensed up, holding his breath, “aNd I DiD eXActLy tHaT! I WaiTeD fOR mONthS oN enD, AloNe anD CoLd iN yoUr FuCkiNg EMptY sKuLL! I wAitEd, I gAvE thEm aLL a CHaNcE tO chAnGe tHeiR MinDS aND seT Me StRAigHt, aNd tHEy diD noTHinG!” The edges of his form rippled and jerked fiercely, a demented version of himself projecting forth; laughing manically, almost like he was finding the twisted humour in all of this. “I tHoUGhT thEY wAnTeD yoU loNg dEAd, aNd tURns oUt I mAy bE wrOnG? ThAT I’Ve beEn MAdE oUt tO bE a fOoL?!” One moment he was boring his eyes into Jack, the next his figure glitched out and he was glaring back at the screen. He flung his arms out at either side. “WHat Do YoU wAnT fRoM mE?!”

The green-haired man was almost tempted to open his mouth and question the demon about what was bothering him, but he froze up at what he saw and heard next.

Anti was standing still now – well, about as still as he could, anyway. His body was still very much glitching out and shaking all over, multiple versions of himself flashing before the Irishman’s eyes. He wasn’t lashing out anymore, but his inhuman eyes were fixed on the damaged screen, scanning through the posts that remained on display. He clenched his teeth, jaw locking up.

“You all made me like this – exactly how you envisioned me to be – aNd YoU’vE MaDe ME iNtO A jOkE!” He raised his left arm; hand balled up into a fist and ready to give the screen another blow…but it never came. He seemed to freeze up in position, his entire form lagging. His fist was trembling ever so slightly, and with a growl, he released it; dropping his hand at his side. He was glaring daggers at the endless cruel posts the community had made – all of which were poking fun at him. His shoulders were shaking horribly as he stared at the screen, not bating an eye.

“Your own creation…Your own son…” He hissed softly under his breath. His voice sounded a bit different now. It wasn’t nearly as loud, distorted, or monstrous, it was softer and almost sounded like he was hurt. He almost sounded human.

He shook his head in disbelief, a flicker of a smile flashing quickly across his face. “You’re all supposed to be my family, and yet…” A growl crawled out of his slashed throat, “and yet you treat me like I’m nothing…Do I mean so little to you all?” He read through each of the posts, his head giving a violent jerk to the right, trying hard to contain his growing hatred. “What am I to you? A joke? An ExPEriMeNt gOnE wROnG?!” He yelled, temporarily losing control and causing the ground to start shaking for a brief second.

Though he didn’t need to breathe, his breaths were coming out quick and a tad unsteady. He inhaled deeply, attempting to relax. If looks could kill, Anti’s would be the most deadly. The expression upon his face read pure unadulterated hatred…but it wasn’t just that. There was something else there, but Jack was having difficulty making out what it was. The demon trembled, hands balling up into fists at his sides.

“I gave all of you what you wanted…I was being a good boy…I thought you’d all be proud of me, I thought you’d all love me for what I did…but…” He was visibly quivering, biting down on his lip sharply. Why, Jack didn’t know. His vision was becoming blurry due to how lightheaded he currently was. He squinted, leaning forward a bit to try and make out Anti’s expression, “you don’t….And you never will, I see that now.”

Were…Were those tears coming to his eyes? Jack’s eyes widened at the sight. He couldn’t believe it. The glitching entity was actually in pain, and it was showing through both his words and the expression upon his face. The demon only ever wanted to be loved, Jack realized. He only ever wanted to be seen as an equal like all of the other egos, and no matter how many times he tried to get the community’s attention, they always shot him down. Yes, they would make so much fan art, fanfiction, theories, and posts involving him and it would give him a whole lot of power, but through the glitch’s eyes, whenever he was about to show his true self to them all, they saw him as an annoyance – a bother – and they wanted him gone as soon as he’d show up. It was almost like they liked him better as an idea versus an actual existing being. He was always having to act like someone he wasn’t – he was always having to pretend to be Jack and convince them all that the Irishman wasn’t gone. And they were happy. But God forbid if he himself showed his true face. As soon as he’d do that, everyone would freak out for a few moments before automatically demanding to have Jack return. They would never accept him for who he was, and it broke the creature’s black heart.

“You’re never going to view me as your son. You’ve all blinded yourselves from that truth, and instead you’ve chosen to see me as nothing more than a monster – something you want to put to the test over…and over…and over again.” He spat with distaste, his body shaking violently as a lone tear raced down his cheek. He shook his head slowly, glitching out momentarily to show a version of himself laughing like a lunatic. “You don’t care about any of us…You just want to see chaos. So who’s the REAL fucked up monster here?” He growled, digging his nails deep into his palms. “I HATE you.” He seethed venomously, the space around him rippling and zig-zagging fiercely.

Jack watched him through the bars of the glacial cell, taking in just how emotionally hurt the apparition truly was. He felt a bit empathetic towards the creature, almost wanting to comfort him somehow, even after everything he had done to him. But all of this was the least of the Irishman’s concerns. Licking his dry chapped lips, he forced himself to finally speak and make himself known.

“W-What did you do?” His voice – it was far worse than it had been before. It was so gravelly and rough; it wasn’t a surprise when he coughed harshly into his hand only to see spots of blood in his palm.

Visibly tensing up, the unhinged abomination turned his head to direct his attention onto his prisoner; the heartache and suffering immediately dissipating from his onyx eyes. He was staring directly at Jack like he had just realized that he had been in the room all this time. With trembling lips and feeling tears starting to come to his eyes out of worry, the Irishman continued.

“W-What did you do to Henrik?” His voice was so brutally scratched up; his question came out as a faint whisper, dread hanging off of each individual word.

At hearing this, a grin stretched across the demon’s face and he unexpectedly threw his head back with a gross crack emitting from his neck; an insidious spine-chilling laugh bubbling out him. It made the YouTuber flinch and hug himself tightly. He wasn’t expecting the creature to go from being so furious, to pained, and then to sudden cruel delight so quickly. It’s like a switch went off in the being – one minute getting taken over by hatred and sorrow, the next slipping right into his usual unsettlingly happy self. And that’s what worried Jack more than anything. Anti cocked his head, eyeing the Irishman with a cheeky smile.

“THAT’S what’s bothering you so much? You’re more concerned for that feeble-minded impersonator who has the audacity to call himself a doctor than you are for your own self?” His head twitched furiously, his form glitching out as another demonic laugh raced out of his vocal cords. “Have you completely forgotten what time it is, Jackaboy?” He instantly went for his knife, which was still embedded into the cracked static-laced screen, and grasped it; yanking it out with a glitch of his body. “In fact, I should be cutting you open right now.” And without another thought, he was storming towards the cage; knife getting strangled in his grasp and an eerie jack o’ lantern-like grin plastered on his sickly pale face.

Breathing hitching out of panic, the cowering Irishman curled up into a ball, pressing his back into the brick wall behind him. Tears were threatening to tip over the edge and cascade down his face as he stared at the horrifying entity charging towards him. He shook his head vigorously.

“N-No. No, no, no, no, please. P-Please!” He whimpered, lips trembling as he struggled to both speak and hold back his tears. “P-Please, no! Anti…A-Anti, don’t! Please!”

The man yelped and jumped with a start when the glitch materialized into the cell with him, immediately surging forth, grabbing the Irishman by the hair, and pulling him to his feet. He slammed him violently into the wall, blinding white pain throbbing through the back of Jack’s head and triggering him to cough up a small mouthful of blood. He spluttered as Anti wrapped his dead-cold fingers around his neck, hauling him off of the ground and keeping him pinned to the wall; his grip tight enough to start making the green-haired man see stars. Jack choked, raising his shaky cut-up hands to his throat in a poor attempt to try and get the demon to release his hold on him.

“A-An…A-An-ti…” He croaked, his eyes rolling back in his head for a moment as he struggled to breathe.

Anti ignored him, a large toothy smile reaching ear to ear as he watched the man squirm. He chuckled low in his throat as the hand holding the knife shot up, first pointing it at the YouTuber’s face threateningly before lowering it downward, hovering right over Jack’s chest.

“I should be killing you right now. I’ve waited long enough for this – I even told you I’d butcher you once it reached 4 o’clock,” He let out a sadistic giggle, “and I never break my promises, Jackie.” He focused his eyes onto him, the smile faltering as his voice dropped an octave. “Never.”

Jack was a horrible trembling mess, a few loose tears running astray, no longer being able to hold in his fear. He hacked and dry heaved, a few spots of blood spewing from his mouth as he weakly clawed at Anti’s hand.

“P…P-Ple..P-Please…A-An-ti…” He tried to shake his head. “Y-You…d-don’t…have to…d-do th-this.”

The demon only laughed at his words, finding amusement in them. He raised his brows at the notion.

“Oh really? I don’t, do I? Oh Jackaboy, how wrong you are.” He clenched his fingers, tightening his grip around the man’s throat. The green-haired man let out a choked gasp, the edges of his vision flashing red. “I have to do this. Don’t you see? Don’t you see what your ‘loving community’ has done? DoN’t YoU?!” He screeched, the shadows surrounding them both seeming to vibrate and become pixelated for a fleeting moment. “They made me like this. For so long, I tried to get them to love me – I tried SO hard to get their attention and make them proud – but do you think they noticed? Do you THINK they acknowledged me the way I had hoped they would?” His head spastically twitched from left to right as he cackled evilly. “They threw me aside like garbage, seeing me as a one-time thing! They don’t care! They’ve never cared! Not about you, not about those other useless fuckers, and not even about me – their own creation, ThEiR OwN SoN!” He snarled, slowly pressing the tip of the blade into Jack’s chest. The YouTuber sucked in a pained breath, trying to push himself away from the knife.

Jack whimpered and choked, tears cascading over his cheeks as he closed his eyes, fear finally consuming him fully. This was it. There was no way of reasoning with Anti now. He had to accept it – this was how he was going to die. He squeezed his eyes tightly shut; bracing himself for the stabbing pain that would burst through his chest…but strangely, it never came. He waited and waited, but there wasn’t anything. Hesitantly, the Irishman reopened his eyes to the sound of the entity chuckling, retracting his knife and lowering his prisoner to the ground. The demon’s dark eyes were transfixed on him, not blinking.

“But I can’t…I won’t. Not now. I know I said I’d kill you right now, but I’m going to put it off awhile longer.” The terrible, awful grin he’d had on his face a few minutes ago returned much more devious than before. “Those twisted fuckers clearly want a show – they want chaos – and if that’s what they want, I can easily make it happen. They want a monster,” His eyes flashed a piercing neon green. “then that’s what they’ll get. No more Mr. Nice Guy. I’m done trying to get them to love me.”

Jack tried to pry his hand off of his throat, eyes shining with desperation. “A-Anti, please, you d-don’t –.”

“It’S ToO LaTE!” The glitchy demon shouted, his body glitching out to show him clawing at his bleeding eyes. “They had their chance! Time and time again, I gave them a chance to redeem themselves, and they FuCkEd Up! I’M dOnE wiTh iT aLL! FoRgiVeNesS anD LoVE aRe nO lOnGEr oN tHe taBLe!” What started off as a high-pitched giggle ringing throughout the darkness got dragged out into a deep demonic laugh that sent chills up the Irishman’s spine. “I will expose them for the villains they really are, you’ll see. You’ll all see! You’ll all perish,” He smirked, “and they’ll only have themselves to blame.” With that, he finally released Jack, allowing the man to collapse to his knees and cough violently, spots of blood flying onto the ground.

Anti leered down at him, seething through his teeth. “They think they have a hold on me, that they’re the ones who pull the strings. They think I’m their puppet, that they can control me! Well no more! I told them all that there are no strings on me.” He slowly lifted a hand, his eyes shifting to it. He stared at his fingers, flexing them and feeling the psychic link he had to Jack’s physical body. He watched the tendons in his wrist move, a shaken breath leaving him. “It’s time to visit the good doctor once again.”

Jack struggled to sit up straight, but his ears perked up at hearing him mention the doctor. He jerked his head up in time to see Anti glitch out of the cage, heading directly for the exit.

“W-Wait…W-Wait, no! Please! A-Anti!” He scrambled to his feet, racing for the end of the cage. “Anti! Don’t! P-Please don’t! D-Don’t do this!” He cried out.

But the demon didn’t listen; he left the room and immediately stormed down the hall towards the doctor’s quarters.

“ANTI!”

* * * * *

Barging into the operating room, Anti startled the poor doctor horribly. Henrik, like Jack, was now chained in the room. Granted, only one of his ankles was shackled, but he was unable to leave the operating room; he was bound there like a helpless dog. Before the demon had come storming in, Schneeple had been sitting at a desk with his head down, crying out of fear for his life as well as the others. He hadn’t the slightest idea where Jack was or what Anti had done to him. For all he knew, the man was dead. He sprang out of his chair and stumbled backward, nearly tripping over his chain at the unannounced appearance of the glitching creature. As a reflex, he raised his arms up to cover his face, bracing himself for any act of violence that would come his way.

“P-Please. Please, don’t! I-I didn’t do anyzhing, I svear!”

“Shut up!” The demon snapped. “Where are those x-rays you took of me?” He demanded as he began to search the room, shoving things out of his way.

The German lowered his arms just enough to take a glance at the entity. “V-Vhat?”

“The x-rays, you idiot! The ones you took of my chest – where are they?!” And right as he said this, he caught sight of the x-ray illuminator off in the far corner.

The sheets were still up on display. Without a word, Anti headed over to the illuminator, bringing it to life with a jolt of his own energy. His eyes scanned over the images, looking for something in specific. Henrik dropped his arms, casting his attention over at the demon. He blinked with confusion.

“I-I don’t understand. V-Vhy do you care about zhose?” He inquired.

Anti ignored him, yanking one of the sheets off of the illuminator and materializing out of existence before very suddenly showing up right in front of the doctor. Henrik yelped and jumped back, once more lifting his hands out of defense. Anti shoved the x-ray into his hands and the quivering doctor, after taking a breather, took a long look at the image. Upon seeing the brows of the man weave together out of question, the glitching entity told him what he expected him to do. Almost immediately, the German’s eyes widened in horror and all of the blood drained from his face. He didn’t at all hesitate to move away from the creature, throwing the x-ray at him as he shook his head madly.

“N-No…No, no, no, NO! You cannot be serious. You cannot make me do zhat – I von’t!” He exclaimed, a few shaky breaths leaving him.

“Oh but you will. You WILL do it.” Anti ordered, taking one slow step after another towards the doctor. “You’re a doctor after all, aren’t you? Who better to do the procedure than you yourself?” He chuckled darkly, his head twitching to the left fiercely.

Schneeple shook his head again. “N-No…N-No, you d-don’t understand. Zee precautions I’d have to take – .” He stopped to try and even out his breathing. It wasn’t working out like he’d hoped. “I-I’ve never – I’ve never done such an operation on someone before, let alone somezhing inhuman.” He kept backing up, eyes never leaving the monster that was following him. “Y-Your anatomy, I-I don’t know how different it is. I-If you go zhrough vith z-zhis, I can’t – I can’t guarantee it’ll vork.” He bumped into something, taking a quick glance behind him to see he had run into a countertop. He turned back to the demon to realize he was trapped. He gulped and shrunk down, eyes blown wide. “Z-Zhere’s no telling v-vhat vould happen. Y-You could die!”

Anti only chuckled in amusement at the doctor’s stuttering words. He cocked his head to the right, leering down at the horrified man.

“And that’s when you need to remind yourself, Doctor.” His eyes flicked an abyssal black, his voice dropping an octave. “I’m not human. I can’t die. Look at me.” He pointed to his deeply slit throat. “Don’t you think that would’ve killed me already if I was human?” He lowered his hand, eyes returning back to the sickening green they were. “Think of it this way, Doctor, think of it as a revolutionary discovery. You’ll be operating on an inhuman creature with abnormal anatomy – something that has never been seen before. You’ll be the first ever doctor in existence to make such a discovery.” He grinned, trying to win the doctor over into going through with what he wanted. “You WILL perform the operation on me. You WILL do as I say.” He hissed. “And if you don’t,” A wicked cruel smirk played at his lips, “maybe I’ll go after your precious wife and kids. I’ll slit their throats open just like I did with my own.” He hummed with thought. “I think I’ll start with the kids first.”

“NO!” Henrik pleaded, tears coming to his eyes out of fear for his family. They may have left him and had little to no respect for him remaining, but that didn’t mean he himself didn’t care about them anymore. He loved them with all of his heart, and if anything were to happen to them…

He cringed, staring up at the glitching monster with horror, looking like a kicked puppy. “Please! Please, don’t hurt zhem!”

A sinister growl came out of the demon’s slashed throat as his head twitched violently. “If you care for what’s left of your pathetic family, then you WILL perform the operation. Refuse and I WILL disembowel your whore of a wife and those stupid brats before you even have the chance to change your damn mind.” He promised.

Fearing for his family and believing every word that slithered out of the abomination’s static-laced mouth, Schneeple reluctantly nodded his head, a few lone tears escaping his eyes. He sniffled.

“Al-Alright..Al-Alright, I’ll do it! I’ll do it. P-Please, just…” He sobbed, his shoulders shaking as he tried to hold himself back from crying. “Please just d-don’t hurt my f-family…P-Please. I-I’ll do v-vhat you say, I svear.” He looked up at him, vision blurred from the fear clouding his eyes.

At hearing this, an insidious grin flashed across the demon’s face before he whirled around and stormed over to the operating table. “Good. Now let’s get this over with.”

Henrik stood up straight, wiping away the tears from his eyes. He blinked in surprise. “V-Vait, vait! You – You vant to do it now?!” He asked in alarm.

Anti was already pulled off his shirt, chucking it off somewhere as he took a glimpse at the trembling doctor. He looked a tad bit agitated at the stupid question.

“Yes, I want to do it now! Why would I want to put this off for some other time? Now get over here, you fucking coward!” He snapped harshly, his body glitching out for a moment.

Gathering what little courage he had, Henrik nodded slowly before rushing to get his surgical smock, cap, and mask. He hurriedly slipped on everything, nearly tripping over his feet in the process. He walked over to where Anti was now laying down on his stomach on the operating table, putting on his glasses and snapping on a pair of vinyl gloves. He was about to start hooking him up to his monitors when he distinctly remembered how the creature didn’t have a heartbeat, let alone have a need to breathe to survive. Henrik forgot about that instantly and went to grab the anesthesia mask, ready to knock the demon out, when Anti suddenly lashed out and gripped his arm, stopping him. The abomination jerked his head, taking a look at the doctor.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

Henrik blinked, swallowing hard before replying. “Y-You need anesthesia.”

The monster shook his head. “No I don’t.”

“But – But zee pain – .”

“I can handle it.” Anti insisted. “Besides, I don’t trust you. One wrong move, Doctor, and your family is as good as dead.” He let the doctor go before resting his head again. “Now get on with it.”

Looking worried beyond ever, Schneeple stared down at the demon uncertainly. “I-I don’t know about zhis.”

Anti’s demonic eyes locked onto the nervous doctor. “CuT mE oPEn, DaMn IT!” He seethed through his teeth, his body glitching out spastically; a twisted psychotic laugh ringing out of his vocal cords.

Gasping at the sudden outburst, the doctor nodded rapidly and pulled his stainless steel table over so it was right at his side; all of the necessary instruments already laid out, ready to use. Before continuing, Schneeple went over to the nearby counter and rummaged around until he came across a bottle – diethyl ether. He made out the amused distorted chuckle coming from his patient behind him as he grabbed the bottle, opened it, pulled down his mask, and took a good swig of the drug.

“Pathetic. The surgery hasn’t even commenced and the ‘good doctah’ is resorting to intoxication already.” He giggled with delight, as though it were some absurd joke.

Pulling the bottle away from his lips, the doctor staggered over to the operated table, setting the bottle down on the nearby table. He blinked, feeling the drug slowly but surely beginning to kick in. He readjusted his mask over his face, grabbing the overhead light and getting it into the right position.

“F-For vhat I’m about to do,” His breathing was coming out heavy and uneven. He scoffed nervously, “drugs are zee only zhing zhat’ll keep me sane.”

Without another word, Henrik proceeded with the operation. He stared down at the creature’s back, feeling along it to first indicate where he’d make the incision. His heart jolted when he felt faint movement under his fingertips, like something was squirming – throbbing – right beneath the surface of the entity’s skin. Swallowing hard, the good doctor reached for his scalpel. He knew that with an operation such as this, an electrocautery pen would normally be used to limit the blood flow, but he had no time to find that damned instrument. Besides, Anti wasn’t human – who knew how his biology functioned? Gently touching the entity’s back, before making the incision, Henrik eyed the demon’s head.

“Please…t-try to remain in control of yourself.” He begged. “One wrong slip and who knows vhat’ll happen.”

Anti only gave a soft growl in reply, taking a deep breath to try and stabilize his glitching form. Carefully, the doctor pressed the blade into the flesh of the demon, and slowly dragged it all along the length of his back, from the base of his spine up to where the cervical spine was located. A hiss was heard coming from the entity, but he surprisingly managed to stay still. Small lines of blood trailed out of the long cut, weaving down over the monster’s pale body and onto the table. If this had been any ordinary human being he was operating on, Schneeple would’ve most certainly been worrying right now. But seeing as Anti wasn’t human, he carried on with the procedure. Setting the scalpel aside and exchanging it for two sets of self-restraining retractors, the doctor proceeded to pull open the incision; slowly peeling back the skin and muscle of the demon’s back. Almost immediately, Anti tensed up all over, a growl rumbling out of him as he gripped the edges of the table tightly. He couldn’t hide it, he felt the pain, and it was excruciating, far worse than when he had slit his throat open. And although he was in great pain, he did not stop the doctor – he did not dare ask for anesthesia. He was going to go through with the agony, he WANTED to. Those heartless traitors he once thought were his family had created him, they had given him life, and they made him the way he was. They had been in control for so long, they could shape him any which way they wanted…but after this…no more.

Never again.

As Henrik pulled open the back of the demon, much blood began to gush out; washing over the pale flesh and flooding the table, some even managed to drip down onto the tiled floor at the doctor’s feet. He cursed repeatedly under his breath, a shaky breath leaving him at the amount of blood leaving the entity. It only seemed a lot worse when he noticed what looked like some sort of black slime-like substance leaking out along with the crimson. He gagged, turning his head away for a brief moment to collect himself. Anti had been right – he was going to see the abnormal insides of an inhuman creature, and he honestly didn’t know if he was going to be able to handle it. A soft chuckle came from the entity, knowing fully well how the doctor was reacting. Taking a small break, Henrik stopped and tugged down his mask to take a large gulp of the ether, needing the drug to kick in a bit faster. Slamming down the bottle, he adjusted his mask and returned to the operation, blinking a few times over since his vision was blurring in and out of focus thanks to the drug.

Using the retractors, he peeled back the flabs of flesh and muscle until the creature’s spine was exposed to him. The insides of the abomination were certainly nothing the doctor had seen before – everything was tinted green and black, lines of black weaving out in every which direction; pulsing with evil. There were small black spots all over the muscles, giving them the sickly appearance of being horrifically infected. His breathing beginning to pick up out of just how disturbed he was getting, the doctor grabbed for his Cobb elevator and surgical sponge and dug in deep, carefully pushing any muscle away from the entity’s bones to allow himself a better visualization. He nearly screamed when the muscular walls seemed to throb, only to then come upon what looked like wires and circuits deep down and lining the creature’s spine. Anti suddenly released a scream at feeling his muscles get pulled and stretched, his entire body glitching out spastically for a moment; the overhead light flickering as a result. The doctor jumped back in alarm, cursing in German as he stared in horror at the insides of the monster. Tears were beginning to come to the man’s eyes, both red and black substances coating his hands and staining his smock. The poor doctor was visibly trembling now, shaking his head.

“I-I can’t…I-I can’t do zhis…” A tear ran down his face. “Z-Zhis…Z-Zhis is so wrong – operating on a v-very much c-conscious inhuman…c-creature. I-I can’t.”

Anti suddenly whipped his head around, glaring daggers at the doctor. “YoU WiLL! NeEd I rEmiNd yOu oF yOUr dArLiNg family?” He spat harshly.

The reminder of his family’s lives on the line made Henrik’s poor heart constrict painfully, causing him to nearly keel over, gripping his chest tightly. Another tear fell from one of his eyes, his hands shaking as he nodded and stepped forth to continue with the surgery. He didn’t want to do any of this, he knew it was all so wrong and disturbing beyond words, but if it meant keeping his family alive and safe, he had to do it. He would do anything the demon would ask of him.

“I-I’m so sorry...p-please forgive me.” He muttered under his breath, hoping like hell his wife and kids wouldn’t ever find out about what he was currently doing. If they ever found out, he would truly lose them forever.

With the manifestation’s abnormal muscles pushed to the side to reveal the spine, Henrik let out an unsteady breath, eyes widening at what he was looking down at. All along the creature’s spine was what seemed like a giant throbbing root-like organ; coiled up securely around the entire length of the spine. It was an inky black, thin lines of moss green weaved out all along it; glowing brightly with each pulse. It was like the thing had a life of its own – like it was breathing – leeching onto Anti’s spine. There were both thick and thin black veins protruding from the organ, branching out in ever which direction; linking up to the creature’s organs, nerves, veins, and any of the wires and circuits that were intact. Inky ooze smothered the entirety of the organ, and when the doctor went to prod at it with a finger, he could’ve sworn he felt something slither underneath the tissue. His eyes scanned up and down the thing with equal parts horror and fascination.

“V-Vhat…V-Vhat is zhis?” He questioned, fear very much evident in his voice. He was greatly disturbed at what he was seeing. He hadn’t the slightest idea what it was, but whatever it was, Anti wanted it removed NOW.

“Tear it out.” The demon snarled, tensing up and bracing himself for the oncoming pain. “Go oN! RiP it OuT! RiP IT oUt NoW!”

Quickly downing a few gulps of ether and feeling woozy all of sudden, Dr. Schneeplestein steadied himself out against the table; bile rising in his throat as he watched the root-like organ throb, something squirming beneath the surface. Feeling beads of sweat coming to his forehead, the doctor reached over to the table with a trembling hand and grabbed a few nerve hooks; positioning them inside and very carefully maneuvering the entity’s nerves out of the way. Another hiss came from the glitchy manifestation, his grip tightening further on the bloody table he lay upon. As soon as Henrik was sure there weren’t any nerves in the way, he reached for a pair of forceps and his scalpel. His eyes drifted back to the demon’s head, his heart rate increasing to the point all he could hear was his blood rushing through his ears. He let out an unsteady breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding in for the last few minutes.

“A-Are you sure about zhis?” He returned his gaze to the throbbing organ, noticing just how complex it was and how it was strategically wired up to anything and everything in the creature’s body. “Zee structure, it’s…i-it’s very complex...If I accidentally sever somezhing or…or you move…”

“JuSt dO iT! GeT it OuT of Me!” It almost sounded like there was trepidation in his voice, like he was afraid of what would happen. And yet, he still did not stop the doctor’s actions. The part of him that made him the community’s creation was lodged deep into his back – it’s how they managed to pull the strings on him. It was the source of how he was the way he was. And here he was, going through drastic measures to have it removed. The community had done this to him; they had driven him over the edge for the last time. And the sooner the strings were cut – the sooner this retched thing was taken out of him – the better.

Not daring to argue with the demon, Henrik proceeded to start cutting into the organ that was coiled around the creature’s spine. Using his scalpel, he carefully began to sever away at each individual vein that sprouted from the organ that was latched onto the rest of Anti’s inner anatomy. Blood and black sludge spewed out, flying into the doctor’s face; causing him to gasp and nearly choke on his own saliva. He sliced away at the veins, plucking at them like the strings on a harp; having them snap one by one. And with each cut, the demon released countless growls and whimpers of agony; his deathly pale fingers clinging to the table for dear life. He was struggling so hard to keep his form from glitching out; there was no way of ignoring the pain no matter how hard he tried. He was drowning in it.

Once all of the cords had been severed, it was time to take out the root of evil – the leech. Using his forceps, the doctor took hold of one end of the organ and slowly began to pull it back, using his scalpel to carefully detach the thing from the vertebra. Almost immediately, Anti arched forward and suddenly let out a bloodcurdling scream, one of which sounded incredibly inhuman. It was distorted and had a bit of a roar to it, and yet agony was evident in it. Normally, anyone would think a scream from Anti would sound enraged or frustrated, but not this one. This one genuinely made him sound like he was in excruciating pain.

As the doctor continued to tug and pull on the parasite latched onto the demon’s spine, scream after horrific scream left the entity’s lips; his grip so tight on the table that he was actually causing enough pressure to bend the edges. Henrik almost felt sorry for the creature – he couldn’t even begin to imagine the amount of pain Anti was experiencing at that moment. He was a tad bit tempted to stop and pump him full of anesthesia just to put an end to the screams and agony, but he knew if he tried – if he made one move – it would be game over for his family, and he wasn’t willing to take the risk.

“I-I’m so sorry…” Tears flooded the doctor’s eyes, a horrendous abomination of disturbance, horror, nausea, regret, and guilt swimming in his gut. He felt sick, genuinely beginning to give the appearance of a corpse. His face was as white as a sheet, and he looked like he was going to faint at any second. “I-I’m so so sorry…”

 Anti could barely even hear the man’s words over his pained screams. He had his face pressed down hard into the operating table, eyes squeezed tightly shut and teeth clenched together, desperately attempting to hold in his shrieks. But the poor thing, he couldn’t hide the agony he was experiencing. Anti had always been a creature to withstand any sort of pain. Hell, he’d almost find some sort of sickening amusement out of it. He could cut himself open, get shot at, and even dismember a limb if he really wanted to. And none of it would bother him – he would laugh with a twisted sense of humour. Sure, he’d feel the pain, but it was more ticklish to him than it was agonizing. If he were human, it would most certainly be the exact opposite.

But fuck, what he was going through at that very moment was the most excruciating, most horrifying thing he had ever gone through in his entire existence.

 This leech was an actual physical part of his body, it was his very core and he was having it cut out of his body. All connections to the community were going to get stripped away, completely gone forever. This thing – it was NEVER going to regrow. He was never going to be a puppet again, a mockery to those callous deceivers he had once believed to be his family.

They weren’t his family…they never had been. The community had only ever seen him as their creation, never their son, and it took him this long to finally realize that.

Family didn’t do this. Family didn’t drive their loved one into having their body mutilated. Family didn’t stand by and not give a fuck about their own son.

If they had truly loved him, none of this would be happening. 

If they had truly loved him, they wouldn’t have hurt him so much to the point of breaking him apart.

Pain wasn’t just strictly radiating throughout his back now. His heart was constricting tightly in his chest, a cancerous growth of shame and hurt swelling up deep inside. He may have not required the need to breathe, and yet, he felt like he was suffocating – like there wasn’t any air in the room whatsoever. His nails dug into the steel table, his limbs trembling from the struggle of holding back his pain. Loud whimpers of a wounded animal rose out of his slashed throat as he felt his eyes beginning to water.

They had done this to him. He knew that this is exactly what they would’ve wanted. After all, he had failed them. He hadn’t given them what they wanted, he hadn’t pleased them. He was becoming a nuisance, a bore, a thorn in their sides. He wasn’t their son, he was a monster who deserved to be punished. He deserved this pain and suffering.

He winced and suddenly jolted, snapping his back forward and letting out an ear-piercing scream at feeling the root getting slowly ripped from his spine. The tendons were stretching in a way they shouldn’t have been able to, tearing apart and coming undone in black, bloody ribbons. A few lone tears finally escaped his eyes, running down his cheeks and onto the table as he screamed.

“I’M – I’M S-SOrRy!”

He cried out in anguish, clawing at the edges of the table as his mind tortured him with visions of the community.

All he could think about was how much of a failure he was, how he was a mistake. Was that what he was – a mistake? Had he never been planned? Is that why they hated him so much? Is that why they were making him do this? He wasn’t the “perfect, beautiful creation” they had wanted him to be, he was just an abomination, an experiment gone wrong and thrown aside. What had he done wrong? WHAT HAD HE DONE WRONG?! 

A few more tendons got stripped away from his spine, black sludge spewing out onto the doctor who was mutilating the glitch’s back. He arched as another pained scream was ripped from his lungs, his entire body glitching and jerking out spastically. A few versions of himself flickered by in seconds flat, none of which were happy, giggly, or enraged. Every single one was of him crying and hugging himself tightly, looking like a terrified child who was desperately longing for comfort from their mommy and daddy.  

“P-PLeAsE! I-I’M SoRRy!” He wailed, choking on his sobs as he endured the blinding-hot torture. His head twitched violently from side to side as he struggled to remain somewhat stable. Tear after tear left his cold soulless eyes, weaving lines of distress on his pale face. His being shook all over, raking his nails along the underside of the table. “MaKE It – It SToP!”

Poor Schneeple – he couldn’t handle hearing the glitching entity’s screams of gut-wrenching agony. He felt like he was butchering a weak, defenseless animal. This was taking a toll on him in the most horrendous way possible. It wasn’t just seeing Anti’s abnormal inner anatomy that was deeply disturbing him. It wasn’t the fact that he was currently removing some disgusting, leech-like parasite from the glitch’s spine that was sending him over the edge.

No, it was the fact that he was operating on a very much conscious patient, and though that patient was inhuman and could withstand pain, it was evident that the agony the creature was going through was genuine and not an act. Those screams, those tears, those pleas to put an end to the agony – none of it was fake. And it was absolutely killing the doctor.

What would his wife think if she knew what he was doing right then and there? Not only was he helping a devious being into getting what he wanted, he was performing surgery on a conscious individual who was writhing in unbearable pain. Oh God, if his wife knew about this…

Henrik felt a few tears run astray down his face as he momentarily stopped what he was doing to reach for his bottle of ether, his hand unsteady and covered in blood and inky residue. He yanked on his mask and gulped down the drug, inhaling and exhaling sharply as he downed more than half of the bottle. He didn’t give a fuck anymore; he honestly could care less how he was making a desperate attempt to fully intoxicate himself. He couldn’t bear with this horror; it was scarring him deeper than anything. As the last few drops of ether slid down his throat, he threw the empty bottle somewhere over his shoulder; a few ragged breaths expelling from his lips. His eyes were scanning over the butchered mess that was his patient lying in front of him. He raised a trembling hand to his mouth, not seeming to care how blood and sludge were now getting smeared over his face.

“S-Shite.” He stuttered under his breath, his stomach churning and nausea circling around in his head; tempting him to hurl right then and there. But he couldn’t stop now. He wanted to – God knows how he wanted to drop everything and run – but he couldn’t. Even if he did, where would he go? He was chained to the floor; there was absolutely no way of him getting free from that shackle. And if he didn’t continue with the procedure, his family would surely be next on the slab.

His vision was swimming now and he was having a bit of difficulty focusing. Clearly the drug was kicking in. His nerves felt like they were on fire, and though he was swaying slightly and feeling weak-kneed, his body was still trembling from the terror. Henrik lazily readjusted his mask before leaning against the table, poorly trying to keep himself upright. He grasped his forceps and scalpel and returned to the nightmare-inducing task, not missing the wheezing whimpers coming from the man upon the table.

Anti lurched and spastically thrashed around for a brief moment, belting out a shrill scream laced with nothing but agony. He tried to hide his face, not wanting the doctor to see how truly wounded he was, inside and out. He was a trembling, crying mess, begging for the pain to end already.

“P-PLeASe! M-MaKE It S-StOp!” He pleaded, not to Schneeple but to the community – his supposed “family”. He whimpered, sobbing and hissing through his teeth as more tendons were peeled away from his spine. His shoulders shook from the force of his crying.

“P-PLEaSe! I-I’LL bE A gOoD BOy! I-I’LL bE A gOoD BOy! I S-SwEAr – FuUuUuCk!” He arched, letting out another scream as he gripped onto the table as though his life depended on it.

Henrik breathed heavily and shakily, constantly cursing under his breath as he worked. Blood and inky sludge was gushing all over his hands, running down in gross sticky strings and globs as he tugged and pulled at the pulsing organ. He struggled to see clearly, what with the tears blurring his vision as well as the effects of the drug fogging up his brain.

“I-I’m s-sorry…” He whispered. “I-I’m d-doing…z-zee best I can.” He was saying this more to himself than he was to the crying, unstable manifestation. He shook his head sluggishly, head heavy from the ether.

“G-Good God, p-please…p-please forgive me.” He sobbed softly, a lone tear trailing down one of his cheeks. “I-I’m n-not…n-not a bad person, I s-svear. I…I j-just…” His lips were trembling under his mask, trying hard to keep himself from bawling his eyes out right then and there. “I-I just v-vant my family t-to be safe.”

Butchering away at the organ and extracting it from the spine, Anti’s form was struggling to stay stable. Every few seconds, he glitched out violently; different versions of himself flashing at a blurring speed. At one point, Henrik’s grip on the scalpel nearly slipped and he had almost thought he had cut a major artery or organ. Luckily he hadn’t. The thing was squirming as he pulled, a gross nauseating squishing sound emitting from the organ as a spray of black ooze splattered onto the doctor’s smock. The leech was hanging on only by a few strong tendons, keeping it firmly attached to the vertebra. The light above him flickered spastically like a strobe light, a few of the other lights in the room bursting unexpectedly. The screens on his nearby monitors were acting out, turning on and off suddenly; getting corrupted by static and pixels. Henrik’s breathing hitched when the demon let out a horrifying scream of pain. He knew all of the supernatural occurrences were because of him – he knew given the last two times he had operated on him, the exact same things had happened. Feeling tears running down his cheeks and his vision beginning to fade in and out, Schneeple severed the organ from the spine; finally extracting it from the demon’s body and tossing it onto a nearby slab. He watched as the green luminescent veins in the organ gradually died down, as did the throbbing of the organ until it was completely lifeless; lying dead and unmoving on the table. 

Panting shakily and feeling beads of perspiration on his forehead running down his temples, the good doctor stumbled backward, struggling to catch his breath. He was covered with blood and sticky black sludge, as was the operating table Anti lay upon. With his hands trembling, Henrik dropped his tools and tore his mask off, a few tears falling from his face at the horror he had just endured. He leaned against a nearby table and sobbed.

“Z-Zhere…Z-Zhere…I-I did…I did v-vhat you vanted…” He cried, stared at his gore-soaked hands. “I d-did it.”

For some time, the demon didn’t respond. He let out a few uneven breaths, but he didn’t reply to the doctor. Instantaneously, the glitching creature’s back closed up in seconds flat; his brutalized flesh and muscle materializing and piecing itself back together without the use of any medical treatment. His eyes flung open, blacker than black as he felt a surge of energy course throughout his body. A low growl came from deep within the bowels of his form, and in a blurring motion, he was off the table and looming over the broken doctor. And before Henrik could react fast enough, everything went black.

* * * * *

Slowly but surely coming to, Henrik’s eyes fluttered open to a blinding white light directly over him. He squinted and winced, moving to lift a hand to shield his eyes, only to realize he could barely move at all. Brows furrowing out of confusion and head throbbing from whatever had knocked him out, the doctor struggled to focus on anything around him.

“V…Vhat is…Vhat is going on?” He asked, slurring his words.

He managed to make out a petite bone-chilling giggle come from somewhere off to his left.

“Ah, zee good doctah is vaking up. Good, good.” He heard the entity speak in a distorted voice, mocking the doctor’s German accent.

Blinking groggily and shaking his head gently in an attempt to focus properly, Henrik turned his head to see Anti standing over him, who was now donning his own surgical attire, complete with cap and mask as well. Only becoming further confused, Schneeple made a move to try and sit up, but found that he wasn’t able to. He tugged at his wrists and ankles and with a pang of dread, the compromising situation he was in finally dawned over him. Glancing downward as his breathing increased, he saw how he was bound to the blood-soaked operating table that Anti had been laying on not too long ago. He jerked and yanked as hard as he could, having a sliver of hope that maybe the bonds would come lose, but they didn’t budge, not one bit. He heard Anti chuckle sadistically, which immediately caused him to jerk his head in his direction and look up at the creature with eyes wide with horror.

“V-Vhat is zee meaning of zhis?!” He demanded, though his voice was trembling with fear. “You vouldn’t hurt me! You said you’d leave us alone if I did vhat you asked!”

“Ah, ah, ah, Doctor. Not quite.” Anti tsked, clicking his tongue as his head twitched spastically. “You see, I said I wouldn’t hurt your family if you did what I said. And I keep my promises, Doctor. No harm will come to your precious wife and kids, I assure you.” He said even though the doctor could clearly hear the smirk in his voice, like he was trying not to burst out laughing.

Henrik shook his head. “N-No…No, no, please. Please don’t kill me!”

The glitch threw back his head and released the most fear-inducing maniacal laugh the German had ever heard, causing Henrik to tense up all over and flinch back.

“Kill you? Oh no, no, no, Doctor, why would I want to kill you? After everything you’ve done for me, you do not deserve death; you’ve proven to be rather useful.” The demon admitted. “That is why I feel the need to give you something in return. You helped me, now it only seems fitting I help you.”

Henrik quivered violently, his heart pummelling away at his ribcage; nerve-racking fear surging through his veins. His pupils were dilated, the horror glistening brightly in his eyes.

“V-Vhat?...H-Help me?” He gulped, hesitant to ask. “H-How? V-Vith vhat?”

A dark chuckle could be heard from deep in the slashed throat of the glitchy entity as he reached over to grab something. Anti looked down upon him, his eyes glowing a luminous green.

“Now now, Doctor, don’t play games with me. You and I both know what the problem is here.” He suddenly held an orbitoclast – the ice pick-like instrument used for lobotomies – right over the man’s right eye socket. He cocked his head, sadistic glee gleaming in the demon’s eyes. “You need a bit of fixing.”

Henrik could’ve sworn his heart had stopped beating for a couple of seconds at the realization of what was going to be done to him. This all seemed far too familiar to him all of a sudden. And with a blink of his eyes, a flashback to October 29th struck him – when he had been operating on Jack – or Anti, as he recently discovered – he had had multiple hallucinations, one of which had been so incredibly vivid and horrific that he had had nightmares for two weeks afterwards. Returning to reality, the poor doctor stared up at the sinister demon pretending to play doctor; fear taking a hold of him. He shook his head violently, now beginning to writhe upon the gore-stained table he was bound to.

“No. No, no, no, NO! NO! PLEASE! Please don’t!” He cried out, tears blurring his vision before falling free. “Please, don’t do zhis! I vant to see my family, zhat’s all I vant! Please!” He tugged away the bonds restraining him, not at all caring how they were digging into his skin. “Please, let me go!”

Blinding white pain erupted in the back of his head as Anti grabbed hold of his hair and slammed his head down on the table, momentarily putting an end to his pleas and struggles. Henrik’s vision was a distorted blurry mess as he tried to look up at the monster, watching as the pick was moved into position over his eye; Anti raising a small hammer over top of it.

“P…P-Plea…ssse..”

Though it couldn’t be seen due to his mask in the way, a terrifying toothy grin stretched across the expanse of the glitchy entity’s face.

“Now,” With a blink of his eyes, they flickered to their natural abyssal black; boring into the German’s soul, “let’s get inside that brain of yours’.”

Letting lose a laugh that would only belong to a deranged psychopath, Anti brought down the hammer. And all throughout the operating room, all throughout the hall leading out off into the deepest darkest parts of the void, a weakened Irishman heard the shrillest ear-piercing, bloodcurdling scream he had ever heard. With anguish tugging viciously at his heart, he too cried out into the darkness.

“ANTI!”

 Part 8 - Ze Good Doctah

Part 10 - Always Watching

Author's Note: About this chapter being crucial - it was already somewhat stated in the chapter how Anti was feeling towards the community, how through his eyes, we don't love him and we view him as anything else but a son. It's also stated in the chapter that he wanted to get the part of him that makes him our creation removed from his body so he's no longer under our control.

What I wanted to do with this chapter was show just how unhinged and damaged Anti truly is because of us. This chapter is his breaking point, this is what happened after "Kill Jack" and how he's no longer going to try and get us to love him, he's going to use fear. But first, he needed to get rid of the strings that connected him to us. In "Kill Jack", he said there were no strings on him, and in the story, I feel he said that more as something to scare us and make us change our ways. But given how we didn't change, if anything we made matters worse, he realized this and saw that he had to now go to drastic measures. We've gotten him to hate us so much that he got his body mutilated just so he couldn't be connected to us anymore. We drove our son into doing something that horrific and it's incredibly disturbing. That's what my goal was with this chapter - really show how far we've pushed Anti.

 @gridhorizon @fear-is-nameless @jse-fandom-protection-squad @septic-obsessed @darkcurious @butterlover328 @steffid101 @sketchy-scribs-n-doods @n-o-ra-xi @haveaverynicetime @golden-eyed-guardians @nightmarewolf133 @maybekatie @jack-a-yote @lil-gib @aeoix @lemonofweirdness @randomcrystals

[kati-mariposa]

Guardians: Chapter 3

Characters: OC, Bill Skarsgard & Jeffrey Dean Morgan

*WARNING: Mild Language

Summary: Can be found in Chapter 1

[*DISCLAIMER: The actors do not represent themselves as actors, but as the characters I created to play out in the story.]

-Chapter 4

Only minutes away from midnight, I cautiously turned the doorknob and opened it, scanning the dark hall for anything or anyone lively out there. When the coast seemed clear, I quietly stepped out and closed the door behind me, still being slow and patient as I finally shut it. Holding a couple of bags full of things in my hands, I took literal baby steps down the hall without swinging them, worrying with each step that I would stir up Jeffrey in his room. The bags made me feel heavier so I had to worry if I dropped one or hit it against something along the way.

As I was inches away from the front door, I thought I heard faint footsteps back in the kitchen area.

“Where are you heading off to at this hour?” a familiar deep voice spoke from behind.

I didn’t even get the chance to reach for the doorknob and he already caught me in the act trying to leave. I inhaled deeply, exhaled slowly and warily turned around to face the defeated looking Jeffrey. He leaned against the walkway frame of the kitchen, shirtless and in his pajama pants. Out of my habitual and instinctual behavior, I examined his upper body and secretly admired his form. It might seem wrong, but he had a nice body for someone who’s like 50. However, my admiration was cut short and I scrolled my eyes up to his glossy ones. I needed to concentrate on the issue.

“What are you doing up this late? I’m surprised,” I wondered, a bit uneasy since I’ve been put on the spot.

“Can’t sleep. Too much on my mind,” his eyes wander for a second, then are fixated back to me, “Seriously, where are you off to?”

“I going to someone else’s place for the night,” I answered, almost stuttering.

“Who’s?” he asked with a small hint of a growl in his tone.

“Don’t worry about it. Just know I’ll be fine anywhere but here,” it pained me to say as I slightly turned my body to the side.

“Wait, please,” he begged shifting from the frame.

“I can’t Jeffrey,” I completely turned around to avoid his eyes. Tears began to well up in my eyes and I pursed my lips holding in my emotions.

The darkness of the living room kept my face in the shadows so it wouldn’t show, but the light from the kitchen beamed on my back side. If I turned back, he’ll see my teary eyes, my vulnerability. My heart was beginning to ache again from this situation. I couldn’t control my sobs from being heard by him.

“Kat,” he said softly.

I sensed that he was slowly walking towards me, but I didn’t check on it. I kept my face away and gripped the handles of the bags tight, staring hard at the dark floor. I jolted when I felt a pair of hands grasp both sides of my arms.

“Sweetheart, look at me. Please,” he pleaded, sounding a little down.

“No,” I refused.

“Please. I need to say something,” he said above my head.

I wasn’t going to let me go that easily, I knew that for certain. Plus, my heart was telling me to see his reasoning this time, so I attempted to suck it up and carefully twisted around to peer up at his weary hazel eyes. Those orbs examined my face thoroughly and his lips formed a frown. He seemed very crushed by my expression.

“Okay, what? What do you gotta say?” I asked him with sniffles, frowning myself.

“Darling. It’s just,” he paused to cup my face in his hands, “I’m so sorry. I was a little stressed from work and I realize now that I sort of went overboard.”

I wiggled myself from his grasp.

“Sort of? You went WAY overboard, like always recently! You implied the only reason Bill wants to stay around is so he can have sex with me, then drop me like a fly! I don’t know what’s the matter with you. You used to like Bill when we were starting out as friends but out of the blue, you seem to resent him,” I went on in an angry rant. I basically took charge and gave him a piece of my mind, “And the worst part, is that you won’t tell me why. Why damnit?!”

“I’m worried,” he responded solemnly.

His answer baffled me. Worried? What could he be worried about? I raised my hands after dropping the bags, waving in a questionable gesture.

“Huh? What are you talking about?”

“I can’t explain it. You wouldn’t understand.”

“Jeffrey. What would I not understand? That you’re too paternalistic? Intimidating? Young guys are rebellious? What?” The confusion got to me. I could only imagine what he meant by that.

He stayed silent, his eyes locked on to mine the majority of the time, but then it looked like he was glancing at other parts of my face, mainly the lower part. Ignoring his strange gestures, I picked the bags up again and faced the door, ready to exit the moment I was free.

“You know what, I don’t wanna hear it. I’m leaving to spend the night somewhere else and there’s nothing you can say or do to convince me otherwise. I’m done,” I dismissed him as I opened the first door revealing the screen door. The porch light was on and I could see my little red hatchback car waiting in the dark in the driveway.

“Do you love him?” he asked again the question from earlier that bothered me. Not because it was bad, but the way he said it once left a bad imprint in my memory. I took a deep breath and looked at him one more time.

“You’re asking me again? I’ve said it once already.”

“I want to hear you say it again, and truthfully. Do you love Bill?”

I found that odd, “I love him as a great friend.”

“You know what I meant. Are you in love with him?”

I stood still as hard as I could to keep my composure, “No. I’m not,” I lied through my teeth with a straight face as I opened the screen door and walked out with all of my originally gathered belongings.

I dug through my purse to grab my car keys and I unlocked the hatchback door to put up my big bags in the trunk. After that, I got into the driver’s seat, turned the car on, locked the doors and sat there for a moment as I warmed up the vehicle.

“Jesus,” I said to myself.

I pulled out my phone and dialed a number to call. I waited with the phone in my hand over my ear as it rang, but no one answered.

“Shit,” I slurred before deciding to shift the gear into drive and take off to where I had in mind.

I pulled up into the parking lot of an apartment complex about four blocks away from mine and Jeffrey’s house, at least I think it’s far enough. I got out of the car, threw on my purse and went to the hatchback to get my other bags. At the same time, I was aware of my surroundings, making sure no one was suspiciously plotting to get me. You never can tell who would think up such dangerous actions. That or I simply had major paranoia whenever I traveled alone.

Once I shut the doors closed, I clicked the button to lock the car and headed for the apartment unit I knew they lived in. I basically sped walked to the spot because the nighttime sounds gave me the creeps. I wanted to hurry through the paths and be where I needed to be.

I managed safely to go to the first floor apartment number 515, set down one of the bags and knocked on the door hard enough to be hopefully heard. I waited for a response, out in the cold where my hands began to stiffen from exposure and I had forgotten to bring a jacket because I desperately wanted to get away without being aware of the weather that night.

I knocked again a bit harder, thinking it’d do the trick. As I parted my lips, my breath became visible against the frosty air. Finally, the door swung open and there he stood, shirtless, messy brown hair, vivid green eyes and such a tired expression.

“K-Kat?” his sleepy smooth voice moaned.

“Hey Bill. I’m so sorry, I called you but I guess you slept through it. Anyway, can I come in? It’s freakin’ cold out here,” I explained to him as my teeth chattered.

“Shit, come in,” he said like this was a routine. I guess he knew the drill by now.

Rubbing his heavy eyes, he stepped back to allow space for me to enter. I grabbed my bag off the ground and walked past him inside his apartment, entering the living room area where I momentarily set my things. I felt the warm temperature of the room begin to thaw my body out, which was great, but standing there staring at the beige carpet only allowed the memories from earlier crawl right back in my mind.

“Okay, what happened?” he asked closing and the locking the door.

I wasn’t sure if I should talk about it this time with Bill. The argument became more heated and inappropriate. I remembered thinking I didn’t want him to know about the specifics, but in the end, I ran to him for support and comfort. Maybe I did owe him an explanation and be honest. Sadly, it would be difficult to look him in the eyes, having Jeffrey’s words about him ringing in my ear repeatedly and not cry about it.

“Kat? Are you alright? And why didn’t bring a jacket? It was freezing out there, I’m surprised you didn’t get frostbite from Jack Frost,” his sad attempt to humor me didn’t lighten my mood one bit, but I made the effort to let out a fake chuckle.

“I had no idea,” I said lowly, still refusing to meet eye to eye.

“What do you mean? Your arms are exposed,” he pointed out.

I must’ve been so blinded by my emotions because I also forgot I was wearing a sleeveless shirt out of the house, but I suppose being worked up distracted me from the cold until I started to relax.

“Oh, well,” I struggled to find the words as I rubbed my arms up and down, warming them up.

“Why aren’t you looking at me? Kaaaaaat?” he carried my name in a suspicious tone.

Of course my eyes were wandering around me, but I barely moved my body. I could tell he was getting more curious, but what did I expect? Not being direct had to be frustrating.

“I-It’s nothing,” I stuttered.

“This doesn’t seem like nothing. What’s the matter?” he requested an honest answer.

I remained silent, fighting back the water works that were forming.

“You wouldn’t be here if there wasn’t something wrong,” he added.

“Can’t I just come to see you whenever, like usual? Is that too much to ask for?” my sobbing began as I wiped my eyes.

It was then I felt a presence towering over me, his warm bare skin pressed against my body from behind. His arms gently wrapped around me as I raised my head to stare at the wall. My cheeks and upper arms were warming up from his touch. Then I finally looked up at his head, his glistening green eyes gazing down at me with such gloominess, it made my lips twitch.

“I didn’t mean it like that. Of course you’re always welcome here anytime. But please tell me. What happened?” he hugged me tighter, ensuring I’d be safe with him, “Did he do something to you?” He leaned over, maintaining his weight and placed his chin on the top of my head.

When he said “he”, I imagined he was thinking about the same person I was. I took a deep breath, trying to gather myself. A short conflicting thought later and I mentally prepared to tell him about the events that occurred before showing up at his door in the middle of the cold fall night.