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[twizzyburger]

In the Woods

help

part 4!

Tagging:tags! ❦❀

As Simon's intense gaze locked with yours, a wave of fear surged through your veins, prompting an instinctive step back. His quiet steps through the tall grass reverberated in your ears, each one a foreboding approach toward you. The thumping of your heart drowned out all other sounds, as panic threatened to engulf you.

However, in a sudden and unforeseen shift, Simon's eyes softened as he neared you. The once turbulent depths in his gaze now held a glint of recognition and relief. "YN…," he whispered hoarsely. His words lingered in the air with an unspoken weight that sent a shiver down your spine. Despite the lingering fear, a hint of curiosity prodded your mind, urging you to unravel the mystery behind Simon's words.

As Simon's hand reached towards your face, a wave of conflicting emotions surged within you. Memories of his comforting presence clashed with the surreal horror of his monstrous transformation, stirring a deep sense of longing despite the chaos and fear that enveloped you.

In a moment of vulnerability, you swiftly decided to slip away and flee. The thud of your feet against the ground drowned out all other sounds as adrenaline fueled your escape. Simon's voice trailed behind you in the darkness, pleading for your return, evoking a sense of desperation that tugged at your heartstrings and reminded you of the intricate bond you once shared.

“Come back to me… Please”

As you continued to run, the landscape around you began to blur and distort, the familiar trees fading into an endless expanse of tall grasses that stretched as far as the eye could see. With each step, the comforting hum of the streetlights vanished, replaced by an eerie silence broken only by the whispers of the wind.

The air seemed to pulse with an otherworldly energy, the whispers growing louder and more insistent with each passing moment. They seemed to call out to you, their jagged breaths carrying a sense of urgency and desperation that sent shivers down your spine.

Lost in this surreal dreamscape, you felt as though you were being pulled deeper into the unknown, the boundaries between reality and fantasy blurring with each passing moment. Though you continued to run, the whispers seemed to follow.

With your heart pounding in your chest, you ran as fast as your legs would carry you, the tall grass offering a fleeting sense of security in the disorienting landscape. Desperation fueled your movements as you pushed through the dense foliage, the whispers of the wind echoing in your ears like a haunting melody.

Finally, you came to a stop, your chest heaving as you gasped for breath, the adrenaline of the chase coursing through your veins. In the stillness that followed, you heard the unmistakable sound of bones cracking, a sound that sent a shiver of dread down your spine. Against your better judgment, curiosity got the better of you, drawing you towards the source of the eerie noise.

As you approached, the figure of Simon emerged from the shadows, his presence both comforting and unsettling in equal measure. His gaze met yours, the once-familiar blue eyes now tinged with an otherworldly glow. Despite the surreal nature of the encounter, a sense of familiarity washed over you, anchoring you in the midst of uncertainty.

Though every instinct screamed at you to flee, you found yourself unable to tear your gaze away from Simon's haunting visage. In that moment, as the whispers of the wind enveloped you in their ethereal embrace, you stood face to face with the being that was once your neighbor.

"What are you?" you whispered, your voice barely audible in the eerie stillness that surrounded you. Simon remained silent, his expression inscrutable as he met your gaze with those haunting blue eyes. Before you could speak again, he choked out a plea, his voice filled with desperation.

"Help me," Simon implored, his words carrying a weight of anguish and despair. You felt a pang of guilt gnaw at your insides, even though you knew it wasn't your fault. As he moved closer, you couldn't help but notice the bone protruding from his hand, a stark reminder of the monstrous transformation he had undergone.

"I don't... know how," you admitted, your voice tinged with regret. Simon's hand continued to inch closer, and you recoiled instinctively, a knot of fear tightening in your chest. However, as his hand entered the moonlight, a miraculous transformation took place, the bone receding until his hand appeared normal once more.

"You can help me," Simon insisted, his gaze imploring. "I've lost my humanity, but you can bring it back."

Caught between fear and compassion, you hesitated, uncertain of the consequences of intervening in Simon's otherworldly plight. Yet, as you met his gaze, a glimmer of hope flickered within his haunting eyes, compelling you to consider the possibility of redemption amidst the darkness that surrounded you both.

A/N: sorry this chapters lowk disappointing, any suggestions on how this should end?

Tag list! @ghostlythots

[twizzyburger]

new drop

sorry i've been away, more chapters dropping on friday!!

[twizzyburger]

Always the writer, never the reader.

[twizzyburger]

I can't wait for a part 4 of the captor!König I'm obsessed with how you write. Keep up the good work!

THANK YOU UR SO SWEET OMG 🙏🙏

[twizzyburger]

Redemption

i don't make sunglasses

part 3!

tags!❀

Captor!König x Engineer!F/NB!Reader

He walks you to another room, a stark contrast to the one you woke up in. This space is cleaner and more expansive, with an air of calculated order. It's noticeably empty, except for a solitary desk positioned at its center. The cold, clinical atmosphere heightens the sense of foreboding as you step into this unfamiliar territory, uncertain about what awaits you in this seemingly sterile environment.

He explains that this is your new workspace and encourages you to inform him if you need any additional materials. "A whiteboard?" you suggest, and he nods in agreement. Just as he's about to leave, he pauses and admits, "Colonel König... I forgot to introduce myself." Before you can utter your own name, he interjects, "See you later, (y/n)," leaving you standing in the clean, empty room with a sense of ambiguity and the weight of an uncertain future settling in.

The mention of "Colonel" sends a chill down your spine, freezing you in place. The weight of the title, coupled with the imposing figure of König, leaves you with an unsettling realization of the powerful forces at play. The clean, sterile room suddenly feels like a controlled environment where every move is observed, adding to the cold and ominous atmosphere that pervades your new workspace.

You walk around the room, a silent observer in this mysterious new space. Your eyes scan the surroundings, seeking any signs of surveillance, but there are no cameras in sight. A sense of both relief and suspicion washes over you.

Your attention is drawn to a piece of paper on the desk, and as you pick it up, you discover a map of the base. Marked locations include where you woke up, the cafe, medical bay, dorms, bathrooms, and, notably, the Colonel's office.

With the decision to approach the Colonel's office for supplies, you stride out of your workspace and into the base's corridor. The environment is characterized by metal walls, exuding a cold and dark atmosphere that further intensifies the sense of confinement. The realization dawns on you – this base seems to be underground, a crucial piece of information that could prove invaluable when the time comes to escape. As you navigate through the stark passageways, the echoes of your footsteps reverberate against the metal surroundings.

Following the map's guidance, you reach König's office, and with a determined knock on the metal door, the sound echoes through the empty halls. "In..." you hear him say in a cold, authoritative voice. Stepping inside, you begin to articulate your need for supplies, but once again, he cuts you off, handing you a sheet of paper as a means of communication. You nod in acknowledgment, recognizing the established protocol.

Before you exit, curiosity gets the better of you, and you muster the courage to ask, "What am I even doing here... Colonel?"

König's blunt statement sends a shiver down your spine, the weight of his words settling heavily upon you. Disbelief fills your widened eyes as he declares, "You will now create weapons for us." As you try to protest, mentioning your loyalty to SpecGru, he rises from his seat with an intimidating presence, cutting you off.

His voice carries an undeniable authority as he asserts, "No..”

“You work for us now…”

This realization crashes over you like a tidal wave, stripping away your allegiance and autonomy in an instant. Trapped in a world of uncertainty and coercion, the cold, oppressive atmosphere of the office seems to suffocate any resistance, forcing you to accept your new reality within KorTac.

Having meticulously written down the materials you needed on the sheet of paper provided by König, you submit your request. Surprisingly, the delivery is prompt, the efficiency of KorTac evident even in the supply chain. Shortly after, König reenters your workspace, his presence casting a palpable chill.

As you begin to organize the delivered materials, König observes your movements with an unsettling scrutiny. The cold, calculated efficiency of the organization becomes increasingly apparent.

As you are in the midst of reorganizing the desk in your workspace, König stands nearby, a silent observer, waiting for your attention. Upon facing him, he takes a step forward to provide your next set of instructions. "I want you to design new night vision glasses, stronger and better," he states concisely, expecting your cooperation.

"I specialize in crafting weapons," you assert, seeking to clarify your role. Nevertheless, König's stern gaze quells your protest, and he pushes a notepad and pen toward you. "You will create whatever I instruct you to," he proclaims, emphasizing the weight of his authority that now binds your expertise to the directives of KorTac.

With a resigned sigh, you nod in acknowledgment, accepting the reality of your constrained circumstances. Settling back at your desk, you feign the start of your work as König exits the room.

When König returns after a few hours to check on your progress, he's met with a scene that displeases him. Instead of a tangible creation, he finds a drawing of night vision goggles sketched on the whiteboard. His eyes darken with displeasure, and he demands, "Updates?"

The tension in the room escalates as you brace for his reaction. The cold, dimly lit workspace becomes a stage for the power dynamic between you and König, with the ominous realization that your every move is scrutinized in this confined and controlled environment.

You gesture towards the drawn night vision goggles on the whiteboard as König shifts his body towards you and approaches. "You're stalling." he accuses, his tone cold and authoritative. The weight of his scrutiny bears down on you, the atmosphere growing increasingly tense.

"I'm a weapon engineer; I don't design accessories..." you assert, not lifting your gaze from the new computer. In response, König slams his fist on the table, forcefully knocking over your computer. The sudden display of aggression startles you, and he yells, "YOU’RE LYING TO ME"

The cold and hostile atmosphere in the room becomes palpable, the strained power dynamic between you and König reaching a critical point. The boundaries of your role within KorTac seem to blur as he demands more from you, leaving you to grapple with the unpredictable expectations of this organization.

As König surveys the aftermath of his outburst, his gaze settles on the smashed computer lying on the floor, shattered glass scattered everywhere. "I'll get you a new one... Get this mess cleaned up," he declares, pointing a finger at you with an authoritative tone. The directive is clear: you have one hour to present him with a satisfactory design.

Having meticulously written down the materials you needed on the sheet of paper provided by König, you submit your request. Surprisingly, the delivery is prompt, the efficiency of KorTac evident even in the supply chain. Shortly after, König reenters your workspace, his presence casting a palpable chill.

As you begin to organize the delivered materials, König observes your movements with an unsettling scrutiny. The cold, calculated efficiency of the organization becomes increasingly apparent.

As you are in the midst of reorganizing the desk in your workspace, König stands nearby, a silent observer, waiting for your attention. Upon facing him, he takes a step forward to provide your next set of instructions. "I want you to design new night vision glasses, stronger and better," he states concisely, expecting your cooperation.

"I specialize in crafting weapons," you assert, seeking to clarify your role. Nevertheless, König's stern gaze quells your protest, and he pushes a notepad and pen toward you. "You will create whatever I instruct you to," he proclaims, emphasizing the weight of his authority that now binds your expertise to the directives of KorTac.

With a resigned sigh, you nod in acknowledgment, accepting the reality of your constrained circumstances. Settling back at your desk, you feign the start of your work as König exits the room.

When König returns after a few hours to check on your progress, he's met with a scene that displeases him. Instead of a tangible creation, he finds a drawing of night vision goggles sketched on the whiteboard. His eyes darken with displeasure, and he demands, "Updates?"

The tension in the room escalates as you brace for his reaction. The cold, dimly lit workspace becomes a stage for the power dynamic between you and König, with the ominous realization that your every move is scrutinized in this confined and controlled environment.

You gesture towards the drawn night vision goggles on the whiteboard as König shifts his body towards you and approaches. "You're stalling." he accuses, his tone cold and authoritative. The weight of his scrutiny bears down on you, the atmosphere growing increasingly tense.

"I'm a weapon engineer; I don't design accessories..." you assert, not lifting your gaze from the new computer. In response, König slams his fist on the table, forcefully knocking over your computer. The sudden display of aggression startles you, and he yells, "YOU’RE LYING TO ME"

The cold and hostile atmosphere in the room becomes palpable, the strained power dynamic between you and König reaching a critical point. The boundaries of your role within KorTac seem to blur as he demands more from you, leaving you to grapple with the unpredictable expectations of this organization.

As König surveys the aftermath of his outburst, his gaze settles on the smashed computer lying on the floor, shattered glass scattered everywhere. "I'll get you a new one... Get this mess cleaned up," he declares, pointing a finger at you with an authoritative tone. The directive is clear: you have one hour to present him with a satisfactory design.

After an intense hour of effort, König returns to the room. Without a word, he yanks the paper from your hands and scans the design. His nod of approval breaks the silence, and he remarks, "Good... see... I knew you could do it." The acknowledgment, though brief, carries a certain weight, and you find a momentary respite in his approval.

"Anyways, it's dinner time. Follow," he orders, and the abrupt shift in tone catches you off guard. The cold and authoritarian atmosphere remains, but now, the focus shifts from work to a different setting. Uncertain of what awaits at the dinner table, you follow König, navigating the corridors of the underground base

As König leads you to the cafe, your keen observation takes note of the surroundings. Dark corners that could be advantageous for hiding catch your attention, a subtle acknowledgment of potential escape routes. At times, you catch König glancing at you suspiciously, heightening the tension that permeates the air.

Upon reaching the line in the cafe, you both place your orders. The atmosphere is relatively quiet, with most soldiers opting to eat in their rooms. You both sit down at a table, the cold ambiance of the underground base persisting even in this communal space. The uneasy feeling lingers as you wonder about the dynamics at play during this seemingly ordinary dinner.

König lifts his hood to eat, a deliberate effort to conceal the upper half of his face, you catch a glimpse of the lower portion. Prominent scars trace across his skin, and his nose appears slightly crooked and larger, perhaps a testament to past battles or injuries.

Caught in a moment of observation, König notices your gaze on him. His curt question, "What," demands an explanation, but you shake your head in response, choosing not to elaborate. The silence between you lingers as you both continue to eat, the cold atmosphere maintaining its hold over the interaction.

Surprisingly, dinner at the seemingly dark and run-down base was good, challenging any preconceived notions you might have had. König walks with you back to your workspace, and to your surprise, he reveals a door you hadn't noticed before. Opening it, he reveals a small room with a comfortable-looking bed, a nightstand, and a bookshelf.

The unexpected glimpse into a more comfortable and personal space within the confines of the base is intriguing. It raises questions about the organization's true nature and the extent of the control it exerts over its inhabitants. The dichotomy between the austere workspaces and these comparatively homely living quarters adds another layer of mystery to your surroundings within KorTac.

"Goodnight," König says, his departure marked by the echoing sound of heavy footsteps. The abruptness of his exit leaves you alone in the small, unfamiliar room.

Ensuring that König's footsteps have faded away, you return to your desk, driven by a sense of urgency. Working furiously, you dedicate three hours to crafting a radio. Drawing on your knowledge of the frequency used by the SpecGru base closest to yours, you carefully tune the radio to that channel. As you initiate the connection, the radio crackles with muffled noises and static, and you anxiously wait for any signs of a response from the other side.

“Task Force 141. Identify yourself.”

[twizzyburger]

Redemption

you work for us now

part 2!

tags!❀

Captor!König x Engineer!F/NB!Reader

The intimidating figure strides by the closet, casting a long shadow that slowly fades. With each step he takes away, you let out a silent, held breath, the noise dampened by the enclosure of your hiding spot. The atmosphere within the closet is oppressive, but the sense of ease from his exit eases the previous tension. However, the lasting dread keeps you keenly conscious of the delicate line between secrecy and exposure in this perilous moment.

With bated breath, you pause for a few precious seconds, straining your senses to detect any lingering threat. The air hangs heavy with tension as you ensure that the room has succumbed to an eerie silence. Satisfied, you carefully step out of your hiding place, your movements deliberate and hushed. The room now bears the scars of intrusion, and you navigate its altered landscape cautiously, wary of any remnants of the recent disturbance that might still linger in the shadows.

You sighed and tried to calm your nerves, but an unexpected force violently seizes you with massive hands, shattering the illusion of security. Startled, you find yourself abruptly face-to-face with the imposing man. His eyes, filled with a menacing glare, bore into yours, the intensity of his gaze sending a chill down your spine as he loomed over you.

You heard a sharp click as the man swiftly and efficiently secures handcuffs around your wrists, leaving you restrained and powerless. Without hesitation, he seizes some of your meticulously crafted blueprints, a tangible piece of your intellectual arsenal. In an unwavering display of strength, he drags you along, each step echoing with the harsh reality of captivity. Desperate to resist, you dig your heels into the ground, attempting to anchor yourself against his forceful pull. Yet, your attempts prove futile as he persists, dragging you with a roughness that amplifies the helplessness of your situation.

Reaching the main door of the base, the man swiftly brandishes his gun, its cold metal pressed against your head. A wave of dread washes over you as the gun's muzzle meets your temple. In the stark silence that follows, the ominous weight of the firearm against your head becomes an unbearable presence. Before you can comprehend the gravity of the situation, the world fades into darkness as an unseen force meets your head, and consciousness slips away in a disorienting blur, leaving you ensnared in the clutches of unconsciousness.

@/Dwisez on Twitter!

As you awaken to a pulsating ache in your head, you discover yourself in a compact, poorly illuminated room. The minimalistic furniture provides scant solace, with a petite metal bed taking up most of the room, its slender mattress providing only modest relief. Gradually becoming more aware, you discern something disquieting—a chain links you to another chain on the floor, significantly limiting your movements and your liberty.

The door creaks open, and a chilling presence fills the room as the man strides in. His tall frame, towering well over 6 feet, dominates the limited space, casting a formidable shadow. Each thud of his massive boots reverberates through the air, creating an aura of menace. The man's physique is an intimidating spectacle — broad shoulders, a chest like an armored fortress, and his muscles ripple beneath the fabric of his uniform, a testament to raw power.

The hood obscures much of his face, leaving only a hint of his strong jawline and a pair of piercing, ice-cold eyes that gleam with an unsettling determination. As he bends down slightly to meet your level, the dim light casts eerie shadows across his features, emphasizing the formidable figure he cuts.

The man grabs a chair and positions it in front of you, his massive frame making the furniture seem inconsequential. As he settles into the seat, the chair creaks under the weight of his imposing stature. It becomes immediately apparent that even the furniture struggles to accommodate the sheer size and strength of this formidable figure. The ominous silence hangs thick in the air as the man, too big for the chair, fixes his piercing gaze upon you, his presence suffocating and radiating an unsettling dominance in the cold and confined room.

He pulls out a set of blueprints from his pocket and, with a commanding gesture, indicates your logo emblazoned on the corner of the design. "This belongs to you... Ja?" he declares, his voice exuding a commanding authority that allows for no dispute.

Maintaining a stoic silence, you resist the urge to speak as the man scrutinizes your reaction. Unfazed, he snaps his fingers in your face, forcibly regaining your attention. Hesitantly, you nod in acknowledgment, your compliance met with a subtle but ominous smile from the man. The weight of the situation presses down on you as the cold atmosphere intensifies, leaving you uncertain about the ominous path that lies ahead.

"Good... these weapons... very good," he remarks, his tone acknowledging the formidable capabilities of your creations. The man shifts in his seat, a certain satisfaction lingering in the air. However, the mood darkens as he continues, "It's killed hundreds of my men..." The weight of his words hangs heavily in the room, underscoring the gravity of your involvement in a lethal conflict. The cold and eerie atmosphere seems to tighten, leaving you entangled in a web of ominous consequences spun by your own ingenuity.

"You work for SpecGru?" he questions, the hood casting a shadow over his scrutinizing gaze. Without uttering a word, you nod hesitantly, confirming your affiliation. The acknowledgment seems to satisfy the man, and the air in the room remains charged with an unspoken tension.

"Are you sure?" he questions again, a subtle menace underlying his words. Without waiting for an answer, he takes out a gun and holds it to your head, the cold metal pressing against your temple. The room seems to shrink as the weight of the firearm amplifies the gravity of the situation. A palpable silence envelopes the space, leaving you at the mercy of the man's unpredictable intentions, caught in the chilling crossroads between compliance and defiance.

You shake your head in response to his query, a silent plea for mercy. In the dim light, you catch a glimpse of his eyes curving into a sinister smile once again. The tension in the room remains thick, a palpable force that tightens around you. The cold reality of your predicament settles in as you navigate the precarious dance with the man who holds both your fate and a lethal weapon in his hands.

He takes your hand roughly, a gesture that feels more like a grip than a handshake. With a firm shake, he declares,

"Welcome to KorTac."

The words hang in the air, the weight of their implications lingering. The cold, ominous atmosphere persists, and you find yourself reluctantly ushered into a world fraught with uncertainty and danger as a reluctant member of this organization.

[twizzyburger]

Redemption

caught..

part 1!

tags!❀

Captor!König x Engineer!F/NB!Reader

In a digital cataclysm, documents erupted like an insidious storm across the vast expanse of the web, their clandestine contents laying bare the identities of thousands—soldiers, scientists, and amongst them, you were exposed to the unforgiving scrutiny of the virtual tempest.

“We got them…”

Amidst the orchestrated messiness, the room unfolded akin to an engineer's inner sanctum. Commanding the space was a substantial desk, its gleaming surface marred solely by the scattered remnants of papers strewn across both the desk and floor in a harmonious symphony of unbridled inspiration. A glass whiteboard, embellished with a maze of equations and intricate models, stood guard against one wall, bearing witness to the perpetual cerebral ballet that unfolded within. Blueprints graced the encompassing walls like revered manuscripts, revealing the chronicles of meticulously devised weaponry. Delicately crafted miniature weapon models, elegant yet potent, adorned the shelves, murmuring stories of functionality and design.

You sighed, the weight of frustration heavy in the air, as you furiously scribbled on your pad, attempting to rectify a flaw in one of the prototypes you had been diligently working on. The room echoed with the rhythmic dance of your pen against the paper, a silent symphony of dedication. Suddenly, a disruptive banging shattered the cocoon of concentration around you. Annoyed, you tossed the pad onto the desk, irritated that anyone would dare to interrupt your solitary focus. The door swung open, revealing a soldier who entered in haste, speaking at an accelerated pace, leaving you bracing for the unexpected intrusion.

“Everything!Everythingwasleaked!Wecan’tgetaholdofDr.Leon!Everythingwasleaked!Soldiers,scientists,everyone!”

You stared at the soldier in confusion, the rapid stream of words leaving you struggling to grasp the urgency in their message. Frowning, you held up a hand, a silent plea for them to slow down and articulate their message more clearly. "Take a breath and start from the beginning," you urged, a mix of irritation and genuine curiosity flickering in your eyes as you waited for the soldier to unravel the reason behind their sudden intrusion.

“They leaked everything! Dr. Leon is in another country, he can’t take deal with it and our signals have been cut off!”

Your inquiry about the leak causes your mind to race with the sudden revelation. The soldier swiftly details that all classified information, including yours, has been compromised. A surge of concern tightens your chest, prompting both of you to hurriedly head to your computer. With a flash drive from Dr. Leon, you deftly maneuver through the digital maze, inputting a protective code to shield the exposed information from prying eyes.

A sense of triumph illuminates your face as the safeguard activates, preventing unauthorized access to your sensitive data. "Dr. Leon provided this for emergencies," you share, your voice tinged with a blend of relief and gratitude. The once chaotic room now stands as a fortified defense against the digital intrusion that loomed, threatening to unveil your identity to the world.

With a nod of gratitude, the soldier acknowledges your efforts and swiftly exits the room, leaving you to reclaim the sanctuary of your workshop. As the door closes behind them, you return to your desk, picking up your notepad with a renewed focus. The urgency of the situation lingers in the air, but you find solace in the familiar dance of pen against paper as you continue to modify and refine your designs.

…A sudden bang startles you, and your eyes dart towards the door. A fleeting thought suggests it might just be routine shooting practice, but before you can dismiss it, another loud bang echoes through the air. Alarmed, you yell, uncertainty gripping your senses. The unmistakable thud of boots pounding in the hallway draws your attention, the cacophony growing louder and more chaotic. A tense realization settles in, shattering the illusion of routine, as you brace yourself for the unexpected tumult that now encircles your once-quiet workspace.

"Where are they?!" a voice with a distinct German accent echoes, a hint of urgency cutting through the air. The voice, slightly high-pitched yet carrying a rough edge, raises your concern. A series of more bangs and a thud against your door intensify the chaos. Reacting swiftly, you stand and make your way to a nearby closet in your room, seeking refuge and concealment amidst the unfolding uncertainty. The echoes of commotion linger in the air as you brace yourself for the unknown presence outside your door.

Another resounding bang reverberates through the room, and with a sickening crack, the hinges of your door surrender to the relentless force. The door bursts open, hanging precariously from the damaged frame. Panic courses through your veins, and you instinctively hold your breath, pressed against the back of the closet in fear.

As the intruder strides into the room, you catch a glimpse through the crack in the closet door. The man is tall, towering over the space with an intimidating presence. A hood shrouds his features, casting a veil over his intentions. Your limited military training pulses through your veins, a meager defense against this imposing adversary, knowing that you could not beat this mammoth of a man. The closet becomes a fragile sanctuary as you silently pray that the looming threat passes without unveiling your hiding place.

[twizzyburger]

In the Woods

what is that?

part 3!

tags! ❦❀

!!disturbing wording!!

midwestern horror au! cryptid! Ghost x F! reader

Drawn by the sight of antlers peeking through the dense forest, you decide to explore the mysterious woods surrounding the town. As you pass the house in front of yours, a subtle shift in the wind catches your attention, blowing just a little harder in the opposite direction. It's almost as if a whispering warning urges you to reconsider your path. Ignoring the uncanny sensation, you press on, your curiosity fueled by the allure of the forest.

As you venture deeper, the daylight gradually fades, unnoticed in your singular focus on finding the elusive deer. The woods grow darker, and the once-familiar sounds of the town give way to the hushed symphony of rustling leaves and distant echoes. Realizing that you've lost your way, panic sets in. The realization dawns on you that darkness has descended, and the forest, once enchanting, now becomes an impenetrable maze.

Frantically, you look around but all the directions look the same. Suddenly, a chilling sensation runs down your spine as you hear rustling behind you. Your breath catches in your throat, and you strain to identify the source of the sound. There, in the oppressive darkness, a rough, deep breathing noise cuts through the silence. It's an ominous presence, unseen and unknown, lurking just beyond the veil of shadows. Dread clutches at your heart as the realization sinks in – you’re not alone…

Heart pounding, you decide to call out for help, hoping that the sound of your voice will bring someone to your aid. As your pleas echo through the silent woods, the unsettling breathing seems to draw closer. Panic intensifies as you look around, scanning the shadows for any sign of assistance. A snapping sound pierces the air, causing you to freeze in fear.

In the dim light, you catch a glimpse of what seems to be antlers, briefly appearing and disappearing like ethereal specters. Your mind races with confusion as you try to comprehend the surreal sight. Before you can make sense of it, a figure emerges from the darkness – a man wearing a hood, his features obscured. Fear grips you as you lock eyes with the mysterious stranger. The breath catches in your throat as you realize that the antlers were a mere illusion, a disconcerting trick played by the shadows.

The hooded man approaches slowly, and a tense silence envelops the forest. Questions swirl in your mind as you confront the enigmatic presence before you, unsure of the intentions that lie beneath the hood. The air becomes charged with uncertainty, and the once-inviting woods now seem to conceal secrets that are both perplexing and unnerving.

As you let out a trembling breath in the cold, the mist hangs in the air, a visible testament to your fear. The hooded man, though he doesn't reveal his face, takes a step closer, his presence casting an ominous shadow in the dimly lit woods. In a gruff voice, laced with a subtle accent, he breaks the tense silence, "Are you lost?" The question hangs in the frosty air, leaving you to grapple with the uncertainty of this mysterious encounter. Despite the offer of assistance, a shiver runs down your spine, as the hooded figure's intentions remain veiled beneath the concealment of darkness.

With a hesitant nod, you acknowledge the hooded man's offer of guidance. He gestures in a direction with a subtle inclination of his head, signaling for you to follow. As you walk through the dense woods, his silhouette leading the way, you can't shake the feeling of unease. However, a sense of relief washes over you when, after what feels like an eternity, you both emerge from the haunting shadows of the forest.

In the clearing, your house stands bathed in the faint glow of dim lights. The tension eases as you step into the familiarity of your surroundings. The hooded man finally reaches up and pulls his hood down, revealing disheveled dirty blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. A moment of recognition flickers between you, the mysterious stranger now unmasked. The forest has relinquished its hold on the secrets that lingered within, leaving you to grapple with the enigmatic encounter and the lingering questions that accompany the night.

"Thank you..." you breathe, your gratitude palpable in the quiet night air. The hooded man meets your gaze with those intense blue eyes, a silent acknowledgment passing between you.

"Simon,"

he said suddenly, breaking the silence that lingered between you. "I live in this house," he gestured to the dwelling across from yours. You blinked for a moment, the revelation settling in, but then a warm smile graced your lips. "I just moved in... thanks for saving me," you express your gratitude, the shared experience forging an unexpected connection between you and your mysterious neighbor. The night, once fraught with fear, now holds the promise of newfound acquaintances and the potential for unraveling the secrets that enshroud this peculiar town.

Simon's eyes soften, a subtle shift in emotion that goes unnoticed by you. Nevertheless, a genuine smile plays on his lips as you extend an invitation, welcoming him into your home as a token of gratitude for his timely intervention.

Two months had passed since that fateful night, and you couldn't help but notice Simon's increasing presence in your life. He seemed to find reasons to be by your side, a constant companion in this mysterious town. However, his own house remained perpetually dark, and on some nights, you'd discover your window left ajar.

The haunting memories of that night in the woods had kept you from returning, the fear of getting lost lingering in your mind. However, a series of unsettling experiences begin to unfold. In the dead of the night, you wake up to what feels like hands grabbing at you, phantom voices calling and beckoning for you to return to the woods. The very air seems to push you in the direction of the haunting forest, as if an unseen force is compelling you to confront the mysteries that await within its depths.

As dread seizes your senses, you instinctively retreat, seeking safety behind the shelter of a tree. Your breath hastens as you attempt to calm the racing rhythm of your heart. Alas, to your terror, the creature detects your presence. In a swift, unnatural motion, it twists its head at an eerie angle to meet your gaze.

Under the moon's glow, a ghastly sight unfolds—a skull-like mask seems fused to its visage, the pallid, decaying flesh clinging grotesquely to the mask. Antlers jut from the creature's skull, their tips emerging from it’s head. This chilling spectacle immobilizes you as you behold the eerie fusion of death and the supernatural before you. The forest now unveils a repulsive and malevolent entity that stares back at you, its mere presence sending shivers down your spine.

As you stare in horror at the nightmarish being before you, a jolt of recognition races through your veins. Amidst the horrifying features and the terrifying mask, the creature's unmistakable blue eyes cut through the darkness. A surge of disbelief overwhelms you, realizing that these eyes belong to Simon—your neighbor who had always been a steady, reassuring presence in your life. The juxtaposition of the familiar and the monstrous grips you with a blend of dread and bewilderment, as the once-soothing blue eyes now reflect an unearthly malevolence.

“Simon?”

In a strange turn of events, the creature's tousled dirty blonde hair shimmers in the eerie moonlight, and seemingly guided by an unseen force, its bones crack and realign to their original form. Facing you now is Simon, once a source of comfort, but now a disturbing presence. The eerie skull mask remains fused to his skin, a chilling blend of the supernatural and the familiar. The formerly benevolent neighbor has become a being from another realm, forcing you to confront the unsettling truth unfolding deep within the enigmatic woods. Bathed in an otherworldly light from the moon, you confront Simon—formerly known for his piercing blue eyes, now hidden behind a sinister mask that appears to merge with his very flesh.

tag list! @ghostlythots

[twizzyburger]

In the Woods

they seem nice...

part 2!

tags! ❦❀

midwestern horror au! cryptid! Ghost x F! reader

Startled awake by the cold winds and gentle drizzle brushing against your face, you bolt upright in your new home. The room, dimly lit, reveals an open window as you scan your surroundings. Hastening to it, you discover the broken lock allowing a gust of wind to seep through. With a resigned exhale, you attribute the damaged lock to the relentless force of last night's harsh winds. Yet, amidst the scene, a sight captures your attention – delicate petals strewn across the floor and adorning the windowsill.

Intrigued, you step closer to the window and gaze outside. Astonishingly, the tree near your window, once barren in your memory, now blooms with exquisite white flowers. Squinting, you attempt to reconcile this unexpected transformation with your recollection. Could weariness have clouded your perception the night before? The blossoms sway gently in the drizzle, standing out against the town's eerie darkness. Brushing off any remaining doubts, you dismiss the peculiar event as a figment of exhaustion, convincing yourself that you overlooked the blossoms in your tired state. Nevertheless, as you shut the window and observe the petals on the sill, a subtle unease lingers, hinting at hidden secrets within the town that unravel with each passing moment and the sensation of being watched by unseen eyes persisted.

Closing the windows with a gentle click, you mentally remind yourself to buy new locks soon. Glancing down, you notice you're still dressed in the worn clothes from yesterday. Gratefully seizing the chance to rid yourself of the discomfort, you opt for something fresh and clean. Ready to venture into the ambiguous town, you slip into your shoes, grab your house keys, and step outside.

The grey ambiance of the town welcomes you once more as you exit. Despite the early hour, a few houses flicker with dim lights, maintaining a hauntingly eerie atmosphere. The drizzle has stopped, leaving a subtle mist hanging in the air. Progressing towards the town center, you observe a gentle lightening in the sky. The heart of the town emerges, embellished with a few shops. The atmosphere, while still somber, appears to throb with a peculiar vitality compared to the quieter outskirts. Some early risers stroll along the streets, their appearances unremarkable and their demeanor kind. The tension from yesterday's unsettling events starts to fade away as you navigate the bustling center, the semblance of normalcy soothing your nerves. Despite its mysterious aura, the town seems to harbor a community of warm individuals, offering you a newfound sense of comfort amidst its peculiar environment.

After a day of exploring the little town and meeting its welcoming residents, you decide it's time to head home. The bag carrying the new window locks swings gently by your side as you walk back along the dimly lit streets. Noticing a subtle shift, you see warm lights glowing from more houses, creating a comforting atmosphere in the otherwise grey town. Yet, one house directly across from yours remains enveloped in darkness. Shrugging off this peculiarity, you carry on your way, though the familiar feeling of being watched subtly returns to your awareness.

Upon reaching your house, you take off your shoes and set down the bag of window locks on the table. In the kitchen, you lose yourself in the soothing routine of preparing dinner, the clinking of pots and pans offering a reassuring background melody. Just as you begin to relax into the familiarity of your surroundings, a knock breaks the silence of the house. Carefully, you approach the door and peek through the crack before opening it.

Standing in front of you is a kind-faced woman, appearing to be in her 50s or 60s, holding a tray of freshly baked cream puffs. Her warm smile and genuine demeanor immediately calm your nerves. Introducing herself as Lydia, your neighbor, she extends the cream puffs to you as a gesture of welcome to the community. Appreciative of her kindness, you invite her inside, the sweet aroma of pastries blending with the comforting scent of your new home.

Engaging in conversation with your kind neighbor, you learn more about the town's history and its tight-knit community. The lady is more than willing to share information, her eyes lighting up with every detail. However, when you tentatively mention your occasional unease within the town, a subtle change in her demeanor catches your attention. The warm glow in her eyes dims momentarily, and a tension settles over her. You notice a fleeting glance in the direction of the house across the street. Before you can press further, she skillfully sidesteps the question, redirecting the conversation with a genuine smile. Sensing her reluctance, you decide not to push, and she shifts the focus by asking about your origins, a subtle deflection that leaves you with a lingering curiosity about the mysteries veiled.

Lydia's soothing southern accent filled the quiet room as she began, "Well, honey," drawing you in with her comforting drawl. Curious, you leaned closer, eager to hear more. "Most folks in this town steer clear of that house. A tragic accident occurred there, and now, nobody knows who resides within its walls. I can't help but feel a chill just looking at it! However," she paused, a pensive expression flitting across her face,

"I could've sworn I glimpsed a man standing near the forest's edge on my way here."

The revelation sent a shiver down your spine, the weight of the untold story lingering in the air.

After a chat, Lydia bid farewell, her sweet southern charm and genuine warmth filling you with comfort. With a parting invitation, she cheerfully remarked, "Feel free to drop by anytime!" A heartfelt grin spread across your face as you shut the door, grateful for the kindness of your new neighbor. Returning to the kitchen, the lingering scent of cream puffs wafted in the air.

While gazing out the window towards the neighboring house, a shiver raced down your spine. In a brief moment, you could have sworn you glimpsed a shadowy figure moving in the dimly lit interior. The earlier unease resurfaced, compelling you to fixate on the enigmatic house, pondering if it harbored secrets beyond the sorrow Lydia hinted at. The once ordinary town now appeared like a tapestry woven with strands of mystery and ambiguity, igniting a mix of curiosity and wariness within you.

[twizzyburger]

In the Woods

an escape, a new beginning...

part 1!

tags! ❦❀

midwestern horror au! cryptid! Ghost x F! reader

The windshield wipers labored tirelessly as you drove along the deserted road, the rain hammering against your car windows like a relentless drumbeat, composing a twisted symphony reverberating through the vast emptiness. The road beneath your tires appeared to stretch endlessly, vanishing into the heavy downpour and haze. All that could be discerned for miles were the unending fields and forests haunted by the dense fog. With no streetlights in sight, a eerie gloom enveloped the surroundings, with only the dim glow of your headlights piercing the darkness. The towering, dense forest's twisted branches extended like skeletal fingers.

Your grip on the steering wheel tightened to prevent slipping on the wet road, the sole sound being the rhythmic swish of the wipers combating the relentless rain.

The interior of your car is a chaotic collage of belongings, each possession meticulously arranged in the back seat, the trunk, and the passenger seat. The remnants of your old life are nestled beside you, a tangible reminder of the decisions that led you to this point. You wanted an escape, a departure from the monotonous rhythm of city life that had held you captive for too long. As you drive through the lonesome expanse, memories of the morning you decided to leave flood your mind. The routine of working in the grocery store, studying for your masters, and the perpetual struggle to make ends meet seemed like an unending cycle.

On that fateful day, a mysterious poster captured your attention during your walk to work. It portrayed a town shrouded in darkness, evoking an unsettling feeling, yet with a subtle warmth emanating from its depiction. Despite the haunting image, you couldn't help but feel drawn to the enigma it presented, an inscrutable charm seized your curiosity. After days of deep reflection, the choice to abandon everything in pursuit of tranquility and serenity became what you longed for. The poster was a beacon, a guiding light, pulling you closer to the cryptic town that looms ahead amidst the relentless rain, a haven of endless possibilities waiting to be discovered.

You took a left following the GPS onto a road gradually overtaken by nature's reclaiming grasp. Encroaching grass and decay replace the asphalt, hinting at the town's secluded nature. Delving deeper, the air thickens with a chilling unease, shrouded in darkness and foreboding. The town sprawls out, its layout peculiar with houses scattered in isolated intervals yet within sight. Coming into view is your new home, a modest two-story structure that, while needing care, exudes a cozy charm. Nestled amidst dense trees, the town forms a solitary enclave, with your dwelling set notably apart and a thick forest looming behind.

Feeling weary from the journey, you opt to delay exploring the town till tomorrow. Fatigued yet curious, you enter your new abode, its atmosphere resonating with the creepy essence of the town. The creaks and whispers of the settling house enhance the mysterious ambiance, but the promise of a tranquil life calls to you. Though the rooms may seem snug for one, the quaint allure of your new dwelling wraps around you like a comforting blanket. Yet, as you settle down, an undeniable sense of being watched lingers. The pervasive feeling of unseen eyes tracking your every move persists, overshadowing your fatigue and instilling a subtle unease. Despite exhaustion, sleep eludes you, with the vigilant gaze of the town looming as a haunting presence, compelling you to uncover its secrets at daybreak.

[twizzyburger]

❀˖⁺. about ! ⋆˙⊹❀

I try to update pretty frequently!!

fic taggings ✎𓂃。°˖⌕

only female or gender neutral! no nsfw!

fluff ꩜

angst ✮

alternate universe ❦

multiple parts ❀

one shot 𓆝

Simon "Ghost" Riley

König

Captain John Price

Kyle "Gaz" Garrick

John "Soap" MacTavish

Alejandro Vargas

Rodolfo Para

Philip Graves

Vladimir Makarov

Sebastian Krueger

Kapano "Naga" Vang

Keegan P. Russ

[twizzyburger]

Keegan P. Russ

coming soon!

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Kapano "Naga" Vang

coming soon!

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Sebastian Krueger

coming soon!

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Vladimir Makarov

coming soon!

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Philip Graves

coming soon!

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Rodolfo Parra

coming soon!