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lefteagleblizzard · 2 days ago

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𝔉𝔬𝔯 𝔶𝔬𝔲 𝔞𝔩𝔬𝔫𝔢 Until Dawn males x male reader

Summary: Four standalone scenarios featuring each of the men from Until Dawn showing their protective side when you find yourself in danger. Each scenario exists in its own self-contained world, unconnected to the others.

Tags: He/Him pronouns used for the reader. Fluff and angst. Mike Munroe x male reader; Matt Taylor x male reader; Josh Washington x male reader; Chris Hartley x male reader. Set during the events of the game between chapter 5 and 6. All of these are separated and not connected. Established relationships. Kidnapping in Josh's scenario. Matt and Emily broke-up before the events of the game. Mike and Jess are not together in this.

This is a continuation of 𝒫𝔞𝔱𝔥 𝔯𝔢𝔧𝔬𝔦𝔫𝔢𝔡 but you can also read this as a standalone without problems. There are 4 totems in each scenario. Just like how it happens in game, the characters don’t have reactions to the totems. The visions are something that could happen in an unknown future and something that I maybe could do as another fic, let me know <3.

Words counts: 9000 words (around 2000 for each character)

Can also be found on wattpad and ao3

ℳ𝒾𝓀ℯ ℳ𝓊𝓃𝓇ℴℯ

The sanatorium was deathly silent, save for the faint whistle of the wind sneaking through the cracks in the old, decrepit building. You huddled against the cold, your arms tightly wrapped around your torso as you tried, and failed, to stave off the biting chill that seemed to seep into your very bones. The room you were trapped in was small, suffocating even, with bars that reeked of rust and neglect enclosing you. The scent of mildew and decay filled the air, thick and oppressive.

This stranger brought you here with no explanation other than pointing the flamethrower he had at you and, when he shoved you inside this godforsaken room, he muttered only one thing.

"Wait here for dawn. Don't move."

And then he was gone, the gray and white wolf slipping through the shadows after him. No explanation. No reason. Just the sound of his boots echoing down the massive, empty hall until you were alone.

Completely alone.

Your eyes scanned the room for the hundredth time, looking for anything that could help. The cracked wall in the ceiling caught your attention again, but it was far too high to reach. The room was barren, offering no tools or furniture to elevate yourself.

Steeling yourself, you backed up a few steps as you prepared for what you were about to do. The cold had made your muscles stiff and every movement felt labored, but you ignored the discomfort. With a deep breath, you lunged forward, raising your foot and slamming it into the door with all the strength you could muster.

Pain shot up your leg, sharp and immediate, but you grit your teeth and pushed through it, slamming your foot against the door again. And again. And again.

You clenched your teeth, the desperation growing with every strike as the door barely budged, the rusty metal mocking your efforts as it groaned but held firm.

The pain in your foot was unbearable now, a throbbing ache that made it hard to stand. You stumbled back, gasping for breath as you pressed your back against the wall and slid to the ground.

"Fuck," you muttered, your head falling into your hands. The frustration and helplessness threatened to overwhelm you, a heavy weight settling in your chest. You felt like screaming, like punching the walls until your knuckles bled, but what good would it do?

Your breath came out in shaky puffs, visible in the icy air as you tried to calm yourself. You hugged your knees to your chest, trying to conserve what little warmth you had left, but it felt futile.

You closed your eyes, resting your head against the wall as a shiver wracked your body.

Then, suddenly, the silence shattered.

A door somewhere in the hall creaked loudly before slamming open. Your head snapping up just in time to see a familiar figure illuminated faintly by the flickering glow of a lighter.

"Mike…" you breathed, your voice a soft whisper of disbelief.

It was him, no doubt about it. Even through the haze of dim light and your own tired mind. He was wearing the same white tank top he had been wearing earlier when the two of you had been curled up by the fire inside that small chalet, his warmth pressed against you. The fabric was dirty now, smeared with streaks of grime and small tears.

His arms were streaked with faint cuts, some fresh and red, others just beginning to clot. His face looked just as battered with dirt smeared across his jaw and forehead, tiny scratches marking his skin like a map.

You pushed yourself off the floor quickly, stumbling slightly as you moved toward the bars, your hands gripping the cold iron as you pressed yourself against them. The rusted smell overwhelmed you, but it didn't matter.

"Mike!" you called out louder now, your voice breaking with a mix of relief and desperation. "Mike, I'm here!"

His head snapped toward the sound of your voice, his lighter flickering wildly in the motion before he stuffed it into his pocket. His eyes widened when they landed on you, his whole body seeming to tense for a moment before he ran and crashed against the bars, pressing himself as close to you as they would allow, his body warm and solid as he hugged you tightly through the narrow gaps.

Both of his arms wrapped securely around your waist, pulling you as close as he could. He buried his face against the curve of your neck, his breaths ragged and warm against your skin as his grip tightened.

"God, you're okay," he muttered, voice low and raw.

Your chest ached at the sound of it, the vulnerability in his tone breaking through that cocky bravado he so often wore.

His grip on your waist tightened, pulling you firmly against him as his breath ghosted over your lips until he closed the distance, his lips crashing into yours with fervor.

You could taste the faint tang of salt and copper, his hand slid up your back, fingers pressing firmly against the curve of your spine as he held you close.

You kissed him back with equal intensity, your hands slipping up to his shoulders before one tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer. A low sound rumbled from his chest, almost a growl, as his teeth grazed your bottom lip, sending a shiver down your spine. His other hand moved from your waist, his fingers brushing against your jaw to tilt your face upward, deepening the kiss.

When he finally pulled back, his chest was heaving and his eyes were heavy with unspoken emotion.

You lifted your arms shakily, reaching through the bars to pull him closer—only to freeze when your eyes caught sight of his left hand.

“Mike,” you whispered, your voice trembling as you stared at the poorly wrapped bandage that covered his fingers—or rather, where his fingers should have been. The fabric was soaked through with blood, painted a deep crimson. “What happened to your hand?”

He pulled back slightly, following your gaze to his injured hand. For a moment, his expression faltered, the pain flickering briefly across his face before he shook it off with a forced crooked grin.

“Ah, this?” he said, holding up his mangled hand like it was no big deal. “I got into a little argument with a bear trap. You can see how it ended.”

Your eyes widened in horror, but before you could speak, he leaned in closer, his tone softening as he continued talking. “Relax, though. The important stuff’s still intact.” He wiggled his remaining fingers with a mock flourish, then added with a wink, “Still got enough left to hold you, so we’re good, right?”

You let out a shaky breath, your concern still sharp but momentarily softened by his attempt to lighten the mood.

His hands left your waist only to grip the door tightly, his fingers wrapping around the cold metal as he yanked at it with all his strength.

"Come on, you piece of shit—“ Mike grunted, his teeth gritted as he pulled harder. The door groaned under his effort but barely budged.

"Mike—Mike, stop," you interrupted, stepping back slightly. He paused to look at you, panting, his face red and streaked with sweat.

"It opens from this side," you explained quickly. "I already tried everything." Your foot throbbing faintly as you remembered your earlier attempts.

Mike swore under his breath, running a hand through his hair as his gaze flicked upward, scanning the room until they focused on the big crack in the ceiling above you.

"Stay put, babe. Don't go anywhere," he said suddenly, his voice taking on a teasing tone as he stepped back.

You scoffed lightly despite yourself, your lips twitching into a faint smile.

He grinned, that familiar cocky smirk lighting up his face even through the dirt and exhaustion as he turned and jogged toward the far side of the hall, where a set of stairs led to an upper level of the sanatorium.

Seconds later, there was a loud grunt, followed by the sound of something hitting the ground. You looked up just in time to see him drop through the crack in the ceiling, landing with a thud a few feet away. He winced slightly but straightened almost immediately, his gaze locking onto yours as he crossed the room in just a few strides.

Bug and warm arms were around you again, pulling you tightly against him. His face pressed against your shoulder for a moment before he leaned back, just enough to look at you properly.

"I saw you," he murmured softly, his voice rough and low near your ear. "I saw that guy dragging you up here, and I just—" His hands tighten slightly on your waist as if grounding himself. "I ran through the woods like a goddamn lunatic trying to find you…" He trailed off, his jaw tightening.

"If I see that man again, he's dead. I mean it."

Your heart squeezed painfully at his words. You reached up slowly, brushing your fingers against his cheek. The dirt on his skin smeared slightly under your touch and you gave him a small, teasing smile. "You really ran all the way here? In the snow? With barely anything on?"

Mike’s lips curved into a faint smirk, his eyes flickering with a mix of amusement and exhaustion. “What, you think I was gonna just chill out? Cardio’s not optional when you’re trying to save someone’s ass.” His voice was light, but there was a raw intensity in his gaze, betraying just how far he’d go for you.

You smiled softly, your fingers brushing against his cheek to wipe away some of the dirt smudged there.

"Let’s get out of here," you said quietly, your voice laced with affection and determination.

Mike huffed out a laugh, his breath warm against your face as he leaned in closer.

"Absolutely." He muttered, his tone softer now.

The sound of boots against rusted metal reverberated in the room as you and Mike took turns slamming your feet into the stubborn door. Each kick sent vibrations up your leg, the pain from earlier attempts flaring with every impact.

Finally, the door gave way with a metallic shriek. The rusted frame buckled and the door collapsed onto the ground with a loud clang.

Mike was on you immediately, one arm looping around your waist as he pulled you close. "Stay with me," he murmured, his voice low but firm. He pressed a kiss to your temple, quick and reassuring, before taking your hand in his and guiding you forward.

The air outside the room was colder due to the numerous cracks on the walls. The oppressive silence was punctuated only by the faint drip of water leaking from unseen cracks and the groaning protests of the building's ancient infrastructure.

"I’ll take you from where I entered," Mike said over his shoulder, his voice tight as his eyes darted around.

You nodded, following him closely, though every creak of the floor beneath your steps and every distant rustle made your pulse quicken. Peeling paint flaked off the walls like dead skin, revealing rotted wood and rusting steel beneath. The windows were long shattered and the air smelled damp, heavy with mold.

As you made your way through the main hall, a screech pierced the silence. It was distant, echoing from somewhere deeper in the building, but its inhuman quality made your blood run cold.

Mike stopped immediately, his body stiffening. "You heard that too, right?" he whispered, turning his head slightly. He didn't wait for your answer. His grip on your hand tightened briefly before he let go and stepped forward, scanning the room ahead. "Stay here," he said firmly. "I'll check it out."

You were about to protest but he was already pushing open the door to an adjoining room. The door groaned on its hinges before it closed behind him, leaving you alone in the hallway.

Your heart pounded as you strained to hear over the faint whistle of the wind. Something on the floor caught your eye.

Half-buried beneath a pile of debris lay a carved object, its strange shape just visible through the dust and rubble.

You crouched down, hesitating for only a moment before brushing aside the grime and pulling the object free. It was heavier than it looked, the weight solid and cold in your hand. Smooth in some places, splintered in others, as though time itself had tried to erase its details.

The moment you turned it over, the air thickened, the walls around you darkening until they melted away.

You and Mike were running through the hallway. Your breaths came in sharp, uneven gasps as you limped, struggling to keep pace with him.

Mike reached a heavy metallic door, yanking it open with all his strength. his free hand reaching for you as he shouted, waving you forward urgently.

You stumbled inside, your entire body burning with exhaustion. Mike instantly slammed the door shut behind you with a loud, reverberating clang.

And then a grotesque hand, twisted and unnaturally sharp, shot through the broken window of the door before it could fully seal. You barely registered the flash of movement before it swiped across your throat in a sickening arc.

A warm, wet sensation spread down your neck and Mike's face twisted from relief to raw, primal horror.

Your body buckled, falling forward and getting caught in his arms.

"No, no, no, no—“ His voice cracked, the desperation was painful to hear. Blood poured over his hands as he pressed one against your neck, his fingers trembling as he tried to stop it. Tears streaked through the dirt and grime on his face as he shook you gently, his breaths ragged and breaking.

𝒟ℯ𝒶𝓉𝒽 𝓉ℴ𝓉ℯ𝓂

The sanatorium was like a maze of nightmares. You and Mike moved quickly but cautiously, your footsteps echoing faintly as you descended the stairs to reach the back of the place from where Mike had entered. The lighter flickered in his hand, casting faint, jumping shadows across the walls.

"Almost there," Mike whispered, glancing back at you. His free hand hovered near yours, close enough that you could feel the warmth radiating from his fingertips. "Just keep close to me, alright?"

You nodded, your lips pressed into a thin line as your eyes darted warily around the darkened corners. Something about it felt wrong, as if you were being watched.

Mike was ahead of you, lighter held high, his head snapping from side to side as he checked the place carefully. His entire body was tense, every muscle coiled like a spring, ready to snap at the first sign of trouble.

You gripped the railing tightly as you took another step, the cold seeping into your fingertips.

A low growl echoed from somewhere close, so sudden and guttural that it made your heart slam into your ribs.

A flash of gray shot out of a hidden passage beside the staircase. The gray wolf that had been with the flamethrower man snarled as it lunged, teeth sinking into your leg, forcing a strangled gasp from your throat as you stumbled backward. The wolf growled, its grip unyielding as it threatened to pull you to the ground.

The bite burned, sharp and immediate as blood quickly began soaking into the fabric of your pants. You tried to shake the wolf off, its teeth locked in like a vice.

"Hey!” Mike's voice roared through the space, cutting through your pain. His footsteps thundered as he ran back toward you.

"Get off him!"

Mike kicked at the wolf's side with all his strength, the impact making the creature stumble back with a growl. The wolf snarled, baring its teeth at Mike. He positioned himself between you and the animal, holding out an arm to keep you behind him as he shouted again and raised his arms to look threatening to the wolf.

"Go on! Get outta here!"

The wolf hesitated, growling lowly, its ears pinned flat against its head. But it soon turned and bolted back into the shadows, disappearing as quickly as it had appeared.

Mike immediately turned to you, his face pale with worry. "You okay?"

You groaned, trying to stand upright as you grabbed at the stair railing for balance. "It's not that bad."

Mike crouched down slightly, his hands gripping your arms tightly as his gaze dropped to your leg. His lips thinned when he saw the blood seeping through your pant leg. He glared up at you, his face taut with frustration. “Not that bad? Jesus, you're bleeding."

He grabbed your hand to haul you up. "Come on, we've gotta move.”

You struggled to stand, your leg barely able to bear your weight. Mike tightened his grip on you instantly, keeping you upright. "Lean on me," he said, his voice softer now but no less firm.

Each step was agony, but Mike was relentless, his arm never wavering as he practically dragged you down the hall.

The distant growls echoed behind you, they were becoming closer the longer time went by. Was it still the wolf? How could it move so fast and loudly at the same time? You wanted to take a look behind you but it was impossible to do without slowing down Mike in the process.

"Screw this," he muttered under his breath. Before you could protest, he turned and scooped you up into his arms, holding you bridal style like it was nothing.

"Mike—"

"Don't even start," he interrupted, his tone clipped as he was now free to run. "I'm not letting you hobble around while Cujo's out for blood."

You opened your mouth to argue but shut it again when you heard a screech from behind you and him.

Whatever was behind, it was definitely not a wolf.

His heart was hammering beneath your hand, but his grip on you never faltered. You curled your arms around his neck, letting yourself lean into his warmth as he ran.

Mike didn't stop until he reached the door he'd entered through. With a grunt, he kicked it open, the metal slamming against the wall as he set you down as gently as time allowed, his hands steadying you as you leaned against the wall, your chest heaving from exertion and fear.

The heavy door swung shut behind you. Mike leaned against it for a moment, his chest heaving as he caught his breath.

Your hands instinctively went to the bite, pressing against the torn fabric of your pants. Blood seeped through your fingers, warm and sticky, but as you inspected the wound, you realized it wasn't as deep as it had felt. Painful, yes, but not life-threatening.

"You okay?" Mike's voice was soft but urgent as he crouched in front of you, his hands hovering near your leg. His eyes were dark with worry, his earlier bravado replaced by something more vulnerable. "Let me see."

"Just hurts like hell," you reassured him, though your voice was shaky.

Mike exhaled sharply, his relief visible as he glanced back toward the door. "Stupid fucking dog," he muttered under his breath, his jaw tightening. Turning away for a moment, he rifled through the room as something caught his eyes while you let your muscles relax.

A moment later, he returned with an old, green jacket in his hands. The fabric was worn and frayed in places, but it looked decently warm. He held it out to you, his expression softening slightly.

"Here," he said, his voice quiet. "Put this on. You're freezing."

You shook your head immediately, pushing the jacket back toward him. "You need it more than I do."

"Don’t start," he said, his tone firm but not unkind while shoving the jacket toward you again. "Just put it on."

You crossed your arms stubbornly. "I said no. I'm fine. You're the one who's been running around in the cold."

Mike stared at you for a long moment before cursing under his breath as he slipped the jacket on himself. "Fine. Fine. Are you happy now?" he grumbled, his tone dripping with offense.

You hummed softly, fighting the grin tugging at your lips as you reached forward and straightened the collar of the jacket. "It looks good on you," you whispered, your voice teasing but warm.

Mike's glare faltered slightly. His lips parted and you could see the way his chest rose as he inhaled sharply, the tension bleeding from his body. You brushed a hand against his cheek, your thumb grazing over the faint stubble there.

Mike leaned into your touch without thinking, his eyes softening as they locked onto yours. The corners of his mouth quivered into a faint smile, his warm breath brushing against your face as he pulled you closer by the waist.

"If that wolf comes after you again, I'm turning it into a nice, warm fur coat for you to wear. Deal?" He whispered, his voice low and playful.

You laughed, the sound light and genuine for the first time in hours. Mike's grin widened at the sound, his fingers tightening against your hips.

"My boyfriend deserves only the best, after all," he murmured softly, his eyes fixed on you as your body leaned into his.

ℳ𝒶𝓉𝓉 𝒯𝒶𝓎𝓁ℴ𝓇

The wind howled like a wounded animal as you and Matt trudged through the heavy snow, the outline of the radio tower barely visible against the foggy backdrop. Matt’s arm was wrapped snugly around your waist as you both moved in a quiet rhythm.

All of that road for your bag only to being left on the snow the second you heard about what happened to Josh and who did it. You couldn’t believe Josh was dead, you felt so bad for Chris when he told you everything and the sight of Ash covered in Josh’s blood made your your own run cold.

The only thing you could do now was to call for help.

Each step closer to the tower seems heavier, the sight of it towering into the foggy sky sends a ripple of unease through your chest. The closer you got, the harder it became to steady your breathing. Your stomach churned, an uncomfortable knot of fear tightening with every screech of the metal.

Emily marched ahead, her sharp voice cutting through the wind as she barked something about getting to the top quickly and calling for help.

But you weren't listening.

Your gaze was fixed upward. The thought of climbing those stairs made your legs feel weak.

You stopped abruptly, the hand you had around Matt's arm tightened to steady yourself. His warm brown eyes immediately shifted to you, concern flashing across his face as he stopped too.

“What's wrong?" he asked, his voice low and gentle, his brows knitted together as he studied your expression.

You hesitated, the words catching in your throat. "I can't— I don't think I can do this.” Your voice was soft, cracking at the edges, a stark contrast to the person he was used to.

Your breathing was uneven, your lips slightly parted as if you were struggling to get enough air. There was a sheen of moisture in your eyes, not quite tears, but close enough to make his chest ache. Your brows were drawn together tightly and your jaw trembled ever so slightly. The fear in your expression was unfiltered and seeing it struck something deep within him.

"Hey, hey," Matt said softly, his hand coming up to cradle the side of your face. His thumb brushed gently against your cheek. "Talk to me. What's going on?"

Your hands tightened their grip on his purple jacket, seeking something solid to hold onto. "I don't do heights, Matt. I can't climb that thing." You admitted finally, your voice barely audible over the wind.

Matt was quiet for a moment, his lips pressing into a thin line as he processed your words. He could feel the tremble in your hands, the way your body leaned slightly against his. It wasn't like you to be so afraid and it made him want to protect you even more.

"I can wait down here," you said quickly, as if trying to convince yourself as much as him. "You and Emily can go up and—"

"No," Matt interrupted, shaking his head firmly. His hands slid to your waist, holding you steady as his gaze locked onto yours. "I'm not leaving you down here alone. That psycho's still out there. I'm not about to let anything happen to you."

You bit your lip, the familiar warmth of his touch helping to calm the storm inside you, even if only slightly.

You were unsure of how to argue. The idea of being left alone felt awful, especially now, but the thought of climbing that tower was almost worse.

Matt sighed, his expression softening. "Look," he said, his voice low and soothing, "I get it. I do. But I'm not going to let anything happen to you. I'll be right behind you the whole way. Okay? Every step. We'll get through it together."

You looked up at him, the sincerity in his eyes cutting through some of the haze of your fear. His hands tightened slightly on your waist. His unwavering kindness was the only thing keeping you from breaking apart completely.

You nodded slowly, the movement hesitant but enough to show that you were willing to try. Matt's face lit up with relief, a small, reassuring smile tugging at his lips.

"That's my guy," he said softly, pressing a kiss to your lips quickly, his hand holding your cheek softly in the process until he pulled away. "I'm not going anywhere, okay?"

Emily's sharp voice cut through the moment, impatient as ever. "Are you two lovebirds done yet? We don't exactly have all night."

Matt turned to glare at her, but there was no real heat behind it. "Give us a second, Em," he shot back before returning his focus to you. "Ignore her. She's just cranky. Probably cold."

A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips and Matt's heart swelled at the sight of it. His hand lingered on your waist for a second longer before he reached Emily to explain to her the situation.

Emily tone was sharp as she spoke with Matt. His voice was soft, though there was a hint of an edge in it.

While they spoke, you took a small step back, trying to regain your composure. Something caught your gaze on the snow-covered ground. A faint shape sticking out of the frost, partially hidden under a layer of ice and dirt. You crouched, curiosity sparking despite your lingering fear.

A faint pattern like a jagged spiral ran along one side and despite the biting cold, it felt almost warm in your hand. You inspected the artifact, turning it over.

The dark, cramped space pressed in on you as you hid together with Matt. His arm was tight around your shoulders, holding you so close to his chest that you could feel his heart pounding against your back.

Your gaze dropped to your hands where blood was pooling at your fingertips, dripping steadily onto the ground. You clenched your fists, trying to stop the flow, but the crimson drops continued to fall.

A gaunt, twisted figure crawled into view from behind, its movements jerky and unnatural. Its sunken eyes glinted in the dim light as it sniffed the air, its head snapping toward your hiding spot.

𝒟𝒶𝓃ℊℯ𝓇 𝓉ℴ𝓉ℯ𝓂

"Okay, fine," Emily said, throwing up her hands. "But if he slows us down, Matt—“

"He won’t," Matt interrupted, his voice firm but calm. He turned back to you, his expression softening the instant his eyes met yours. "You ready?" he murmured, his voice filled with affection.

You forced yourself to nod. "Yeah. Let’s do this."

The climb to the first level of the tower had been slow but manageable, largely thanks to Matt. But as the three of you approached the second and final part of the climb, the reality of the height struck you again.

Your hands gripping the railing so tightly that your knuckles ached. The world seemed to tilt around you, a dizzying reminder of just how far you'd come… and how much farther you could fall.

"Almost there," Matt called gently from below, his voice cutting through the roar of the wind. "You're doing amazing, babe. Just a little further."

His words were meant to encourage, but you could barely hear them over the pounding of your own heartbeat.

You reached for the trapdoor, your fingers brushing against its icy surface. A sudden gust of wind slammed into you, throwing you off balance and your foot slipped on the icy stare. Your stomach lurching as gravity pulls you backward, barely managing to catch yourself and clutching the metal stairs with both arms in a desperate embrace.

Matt's heart felt like it stopped at the sight of you losing your balance. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?" The words tumbled out of him in a rush as he scrambled up a few steps.

You couldn't answer immediately. Your chest heaved as you clung to the cold metal, every fiber of your being focused on not looking down.

A shriller, far less comforting voice spoke from below. "I'm freezing my ass off down here! Just stop looking down! Close your goddamn eyes and open the damn trapdoor already!" Emily's unmistakable tone rang out from the base of the stairs. Her words hit like a slap and you flinched instinctively.

Matt’s usual calm demeanor cracked as he whipped around, his voice firm and louder than you'd ever heard it before. "Yelling isn't going to help, Emily! Just let him calm down, alright?"

Emily's jaw dropped, caught off guard by the sudden bite in Matt's tone. Her shock lasted only a second before wrath flashed in her eyes. "Excuse me?" she snapped, her hands gripping tightly the bars. "At least I'm trying to get him to move! What are you doing besides staring at his ass the whole time?"

Matt reeled back, his cheeks immediately flushing with embarrassment. "I—what?! I wasn't—what are you even talking about?!" he stammered, his words fumbling over each other in a rush to defend himself, unsure of how to even begin addressing her ridiculous accusation.

Despite your shaky state, a small, unexpected laugh bubbled out of you at the absurdity of their argument and it gave you the last bit of strength to open the trapdoor and crawl on the floor of the tower. "I got it," you called down, your voice still trembling but steadier than before.

When Matt reached the top of the stairs, you were still crouched near the trapdoor. Your legs shook slightly as you forced yourself to breathe, to focus on anything but the dizzying height below. You felt Matt kneel beside you, his presence warm and grounding despite the cold wind cutting through the tower.

“Hey,” he said softly, placing his hands gently on your shoulders. His touch was firm but reassuring, his thumbs brushing over the fabric of your jacket.

His face was closer now, and you could see the worry etched into his features. The way his eyes searched yours, as if trying to find the right words to say, made your heart ache in a way you hadn’t expected.

Matt hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering down to your lips before meeting your eyes again. There was a beat of silence, before he leaned forward, his hands sliding to your waist as he pulled you closer.

His lips pressed against yours, soft and warm, the kiss tender but filled with a quiet intensity. When he pulled back, his face lingered close to yours, his forehead almost resting against yours as he exhaled shakily with a small, nervous smile tugged at his lips.

He cleared his throat awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck as he avoided your gaze. “I, uh… I just wanted to make sure you’re okay,” he murmured, his voice quiet but filled with sincerity.

"And for the record," he added quickly, his voice low, "I wasn't staring at your ass. I mean, not on purpose! I mean—" He stumbled over his words, clearly flustered. "I was just… making sure you were safe. Like, in case something happened. Which it didn't! It kind of did, but you know what I mean."

The corners of your lips twitched upward and before you knew it, you were laughing. It was shaky and soft, but it was genuine. The sound seemed to disarm Matt completely and he let out a nervous chuckle of his own, his hands still resting lightly on your shoulders.

"See?" he said, his tone lighter now as his own smile grew. "That's better. You've got a great smile, you know? Way too good to waste on freaking out about some stupid tower."

You shook your head, your laughter fading into a warm smile as you looked up at him. He stood, offering you his hand, letting him help you to your feet.

Your legs felt weak as you stood, gripping onto the nearest surface to keep yourself steady, refusing to glance at the windows and the dizzying drop below. Matt stayed close by your side, his arm brushing against yours, while Emily knelt by the radio, frantically fiddling with its dials as she successfully called for help.

Beneath the roar of the storm, you heard a sharp, metallic thud. Your heart leapt into your throat as the noise echoed through the tower.

Another sound. A loud, deliberate slam against the trapdoor you'd climbed through. Emily screamed as she backed away and hugged herself. The metal vibrated under each blow, the trapdoor shaking violently as someone—or something—tried to force its way inside.

Matt stepped in front of you, his arm shooting out to shield you. He was just as terrified as you were, but he wasn't going to let it stop him.

The banging stopped, leaving a suffocating silence in its wake. Before a sudden, violent lurch threw you off balance as the entire tower shifted, the floor tilting beneath your feet.

Sparks erupted from the radio equipment as the cables outside snapped one by one, the groaning of metal deafening. Wires shorted out, sending a burst of flames crawling up the walls. The air filled with smoke and the acrid stench of burning electronics.

"Hold on!" Matt yelled, his voice barely audible over the chaos. He reached for you, his arm wrapping tightly around your waist as he pulled you against him. His grip was strong as he anchored you to him. His other hand shot out, grabbing onto the handle of a desk bolted to the wall, giving you enough time to grab the desk too.

The tower tilted further and Emily screamed as she fell into the window facing the black ravine. She hit it hard, the glass spider webbing with cracks under the force.

"Emily!" you and Matt cried out, but your voice was lost in the chaos as the tower fell violently on the ravine and got stuck temporarily. The desk Matt was holding onto creaked under the strain, its metal legs groaning before the one holding you snapped with a sickening crack.

The sudden loss of stability sent you sliding backward, the window on your left catching your weight just before the glass shattered, slicing into your skin as half of your body hung out into the void.

Panic exploded in your chest as the freezing wind roared around you. Your hands scrabbled desperately against the broken glass and jagged metal, trying to find anything to hold onto. Blood smeared the glass where your palms dragged across it and a strangled cry tore from your throat as you felt your strength fading.

You were seconds away from falling to your own death before Matt's strong hand gripped your shoulder tightly. You looked up, tears blurring your vision and saw his face.

"I've got you," he said, his voice shaking but steady and eyes wide with fear. "Don't let go."

You choked out his name, your voice trembling with both terror and relief. The sheer force of your panic made your words nearly incoherent, but he understood.

His grip on your shoulder tightened as he braced himself against the crumbling wall. With a grunt of effort, he began to pull you up, his muscles straining as he fought against gravity. You felt the jagged glass dig deeper into your skin as he dragged you back to the top of the tower.

Finally, you were close enough for him to wrap both arms around you, pulling you tightly against his chest. He buried his face in your neck, his breath warm against your freezing skin. "You're okay," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

Your body trembled against his, the adrenaline still coursing through your veins but you clung to him tightly.

The sharp, panicked sound of Emily's voice cut through the chaos like a blade. "Oh, god, Matt, help me!" she screamed, her voice rising above the wind and the groaning of the collapsing tower. The structure swayed dangerously again, causing you to flinch violently as your hands gripped the splintered metallic floor beneath you, too paralyzed by fear to move. The glass shards dug painfully into your palms and your chest heaved with shallow, frantic breaths.

Matt was crouched beside you, his hand brushing over your shoulder in a silent reassurance, though his focus was pulled toward Emily. His jaw was tight, lips pressed together as his head darted between her dangling form and you, trembling on all fours right next to him. "Emily! Just—just hang on!" he shouted back, his voice strained with panic and uncertainty.

"Matt you’ve got to do something right NOW what are you waiting for?!?!" Emily screeched, her hands gripping desperately at the metal beam she was clinging to. Her face was pale, twisted in anger and terror as she tried to haul herself upward.

"I’m thinking! Let me think—" Matt shot back, frustration and desperation bleeding into his tone as he glanced at her precarious position. Every nerve in his body was screaming at him to do something, but the chaos made it impossible to think.

"Don’t think, you idiot, just get me out of here!" Emily yelled, her words sharp and cutting.

"Emily, you’re upset, you need to calm down. You’re gonna be fine—"

“Ugh, stop talking, I can’t take it!”

“Stop yelling at me and let me work this out, okay?” Matt’s voice was starting to crack under the pressure. The rare harshness in his tone shocked her into momentary silence, though her glare remained fixed on him.

“No, you stop it! Why do you keep questioning everything I say?! I’m goddamned sick of it!”

As they argued, you trembled next to Matt, your body betraying you under the crushing weight of fear. The dizzying height and the groaning metal beneath you all pressed down like a suffocating hand. Your arms were weak, hands and arms bloody from the shattered glass and your mind was spiraling into dark places you couldn't control. You wanted to move, to help, to say something, but the words wouldn't come as you kept staring down at the metal that kept moving and falling apart beneath you.

Matt extended his hand down to reach for her but the tower moved again, sliding further down and causing Emily to fall further down, her hands gripping tightly the metal were now the only thing keeping her from falling down.

Matt's head whipped toward you as the tower lurched again, his heart skipping a beat when he saw the look on your face. Your eyes were wide, glassy with terror, your lips trembling as shallow gasps escaped you. You looked completely frozen, your normally bright expression replaced with sheer, raw fear. The sight made Matt's chest ache in a way he couldn't describe.

His mind was racing, torn between what to do. He hated seeing you like this, so vulnerable, so scared.

"Matt!" Emily screamed again, her voice grating. He turned back to her briefly, his expression torn. She was hanging precariously, her fingers slipping further with every passing second.

Matt's breath caught in his throat as he realized he couldn't save both of you. The tower was seconds from collapsing entirely.

He had to make a choice.

He couldn't lose you.

Not you.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice barely audible over the chaos occurring.

Emily's head snapped up, her brows furrowed in confusion as she tried to figure out what he meant

Matt moved, his hand gripping tightly your arm as he hauled you to your feet with a surprising strength born of pure adrenaline. "Hold onto me!" he shouted, his voice breaking through your haze of fear.

You barely had time to process his words before he pulled you forcefully against him, his arms locking around you before jumping away from the tower.

The two of you leapt clear of the collapsing tower just as it let out an earth-shattering groan. The entire structure gave way, crashing into the ravine in a deafening roar of twisted metal, shattered glass, and flames.

You and Matt hit the ground hard, the cold bit into your skin, but the sheer force of the adrenaline coursing through your veins dulled everything else. For a moment, you lay there, your body trembling uncontrollably as you tried to catch your breath.

Matt's arms were still around you, holding you tightly as if he couldn't bear to let go. His chest rose and fell against yours, his breaths coming fast and uneven. He pulled back just enough to look at you, his eyes wide and frantic as he scanned your face.

"Are you okay?" he asked, his voice hoarse.

You nodded shakily, your words caught in your throat. Your hands gripped his torn jacket tightly. "I'm okay," you managed to whisper, though your voice trembled.

Matt exhaled a shaky breath, relief flooding his features. But as he looked back toward the ravine, the guilt hit him like a physical blow, his shoulders sagging under the weight of it.

"She's gone," he murmured, his voice barely audible. "I didn't—" His words broke off, his face twisting with anguish.

You reached up, your hands still trembling, and cupped his face gently. "Matt," you said softly, your voice steady despite the fear still lingering in your chest. "You didn't have a choice. "

His eyes searched yours, desperate for reassurance.

"Thank you for saving me," your voice firm this time as you cradle his head between your hands.

Matt's lips pressed into a thin line, his brow furrowing as tears threatened to spill. "I couldn't lose you," he whispered finally, his voice breaking.

He leaned in, pressing his lips to yours in a soft, trembling kiss. His hands cupped your face gently, his touch tender despite the strength that had just saved your life.

When he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, and for the first time all night, the tension in his shoulders eased. "I love you," he whispered, the words barely audible but heavy with meaning.

You smiled faintly, your own fear finally starting to ebb away. "I love you too."

For now, at least, you were safe and together.

𝒥ℴ𝓈𝒽 𝒲𝒶𝓈𝒽𝒾𝓃ℊ𝓉ℴ𝓃

The lodge felt emptier than ever.

The silence pressed against you from all sides, heavy and suffocating, broken only by the faint howling of the wind outside. Shadows clung to the corners of the room, flickering faintly with the light of the fire. The crackling flames did little to warm the place.

You sat on the edge of one of the couches, your elbows resting against your knees as you stared at the floor, your vision blurring with tears. One hand gripped the fabric of your jeans tightly, knuckles pale, while the other shakily wiped at your face. Your chest aches and your throat felt tight, like you couldn't quite catch your breath.

Josh was gone.

The image of it was still burned into your mind. It replayed on an endless loop: the look of horror on his face, the blood, the sickening sound of the chainsaw sliding him in half. You couldn't stop hearing it, couldn't stop seeing it, even when you squeezed your eyes shut and tried to force it away.

And worst of all, you hadn't been able to do anything.

The tears started again, hot and unstoppable as they streaked down your face. You drew in a shaky breath, trying to hold it in, trying to keep it together, but the grief was relentless, clawing at your chest like something alive. You dropped your head into your hands, shoulders trembling as you let it out, the quiet sobs muffled by your palms.

You didn't even hear Chris and Ashley enter the room.

Chris's voice broke through the silence, soft but uncertain as he called your name. You stiffened instinctively, brushing at your face quickly as you turned your head, though there was no hiding the tears in your eyes. Chris stood near the doorway, his expression filled with uncertainty and guilt. Ashley hovered beside him, her eyes wide with sympathy, her hands twisting nervously around each other.

You swallowed hard, clearing your throat as you tried to speak. "Hey," you croaked, though your voice cracked on the word.

Chris shifted awkwardly on his feet, glancing toward Ashley for a moment before stepping closer to you. His face was pale and tired, the usual spark of humor in his eyes replaced with something dull and haunted.

"Listen, man…" Chris started, his voice trailing off as if he didn't know how to finish. He ran a hand through his hair, his movements restless. "I just wanted to say I'm sorry. About Josh. I can't even imagine…"

He trailed off again, his face contorting slightly as he struggled to find the right words. You could see the guilt written all over him. He'd watched it happen. He'd seen you break down in that moment, screaming and reaching for Josh, even when there was nothing you could do.

The words came softly, but they still cut deep. You didn't want his sympathy. You didn't want anyone's sympathy, because it didn't change anything. Josh was still gone.

But as you opened your mouth to say something, you paused. Chris's face was crumbling, his voice shaking slightly as he spoke again.

"I know how much he meant to you. And… God, I just can't believe it." His voice broke on the last words, his shoulders slumping as though the weight of his grief was too much to bear.

Your chest tightened at the sight of him. Chris was hurting too. Josh wasn't just your boyfriend; he'd been Chris's brother in all but blood.

You sniffed, wiping at your face with the back of your hand before looking up at him.

"I'm sorry for you too," you muttered, your voice barely above a whisper. "He was your best friend."

Chris's expression twisted painfully and he looked away quickly, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "Yeah," he said softly, his voice tight. "Yeah, he was,” his eyes were glassy as he looked away.

The weight of his words hung in the air between you, thick and heavy with grief. For a moment, none of you spoke. The only sound was the faint crackling of the fire.

Ashley, who had been silent up until now, moved slightly closer to Chris. She placed a hand gently on his arm, her touch soft but deliberate. Chris flinched faintly at first, but he looked down at her and seemed to understand what she meant

"Right," Chris murmured after a moment, his voice hushed. He looked back at you, his face softening with understanding. "We're, uh—we're gonna head upstairs. Sam should be there.”

You nodded faintly, still not trusting your voice to speak.

Chris hesitated, clearly torn, his eyes flickering toward Ashley and back to you. He looked like he wanted to say more, to stay, but Ashley gave his arm a small tug, silently urging him to leave you alone for now.

"Take your time," Ashley said softly, her voice kind but sad.

Chris let out a breath, nodding at you one last time before turning to follow Ashley out of the room. Their footsteps faded into the distance, and the silence returned, heavier than before.

You sat back against the chair, staring at the fire as tears started to burn your eyes again. It wasn't fair. Josh had been here just hours ago laughing, joking, grinning at you in that mischievous way that only he could. You could still hear his voice teasing you, the way he'd lean close to whisper some ridiculous comment that would leave you rolling your eyes but smiling anyway. He'd kiss you like it was the only thing that mattered, his lips soft and slow and full of affection. Josh had a way of making you feel like you were the only person in the world.

And now he is gone.

A sob escaped your throat, unexpected and raw and you curled in on yourself, your face pressing into your hands. The ache in your chest deepened, spreading like a crack in glass. It hurts to breathe, to think, to feel.

Josh lingered in the shadows of the lodge, his breathing controlled, almost imperceptible, as he watched you from a distance. The flickering firelight cast faint orange hues across your form, highlighting every shudder of your shoulders, every tremble in your body as you cried alone on the couch.

It had been hard enough to keep his composure when Chris and Ashley had been there with you. But now that you were alone, crumpling under the weight of grief he'd inflicted on you, it was nearly unbearable.

Josh's chest tightened as he watched you wipe your face with trembling hands. The sight alone carried enough pain to gut him. He hadn't anticipated this part of his plan, hadn't thought about how deeply his "death" would cut you, hadn't truly imagined the look of agony on your face as you mourned him.

Josh gritted his teeth, his jaw locking as he turned his head slightly, as though looking away might ease the ache spreading through him.

It didn't.

You were right there and every sound you made carved deeper into him, peeling back layers of guilt he'd tried so hard to bury.

He had envisioned this night countless times in his head, every piece of the plan falling into place. He would take the others to the brink of terror, make them feel the helplessness and fear his sisters must have felt, and then pull back the curtain. Show them that it was all a game, a carefully crafted performance.

They'd be mad, sure, but they'd understand. He wanted them to understand what it felt like to be alone, to lose someone you loved. To hurt the way he had hurt after his sisters disappeared.

But Josh hadn't anticipated how much it would shatter him to see you the way your body curled into itself like you were trying to disappear, to hear the way you whispered his name under your breath soft and broken, like a prayer that would never be answered.

Josh's fingers dug into the wood of the doorframe until his knuckles went white. He felt his chest tighten, his throat working around a lump he couldn't quite swallow.

You'd see. They'd all see. Once everything was finished, they'd finally understand what it felt like.

Josh inhaled sharply through his nose, forcing his gaze back to you. You would forgive him, he was sure of it. By the end of the night, you'd see what he was trying to do. That this whole thing was for you as much as it was for him.

Josh took a step forward, silent as a shadow as he took another. His movements were slow, calculated, as he stalked toward you. His figure wrapped in darkness save for parts of his mask and the edges of the gas mask slung over his shoulder. He kept his breathing steady, his footsteps light, his gaze locked on you.

You were his to protect, his to keep safe. You didn't belong out here with the others. You weren't supposed to suffer because of their sins.

You'd forgive him for this. You had to.

His grip tightened on the gas mask, the rubber creaking faintly under the pressure of his fingers.

His heart hammered in his chest as he hovered just behind you now, close enough that he could see the faint tremors running through your frame. His eyes softened for a brief moment as he crouched slightly, one hand tightening around the strap of the gas mask.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, the words slipping out so quietly he wasn't sure he'd said them at all.

You tensed at the sound, your head snapping up as you turned sharply to look over your shoulder. But before you could see him fully, Josh surged forward.

A sharp gasp escaped you, your body jerking back instinctively, but Josh was faster. He clamped the gas mask against your face, his other hand locking around the back of your head to hold it in place.

Your muffled shout rang through the room, your hands flying up to grab at his arms, your fingers digging into his sleeves as you fought.

Your struggles weakened as the drug took effect, your limbs growing heavy. Josh caught you as you slumped forward, your head resting against his chest. He cradled you in his arms, adjusted your weight carefully before lifting you into a bridal carry with ease.

Your head lolled against his shoulder, breath shallow but steady. He held you tightly, his arms wrapped protectively around you as he began moving through the lodge.

Josh’s grip on you tightened, his mind racing as he carried you through the lodge. He glanced down at your face, vulnerable and peaceful, a pang of guilt striking him even as he pressed you closer to his chest, his body tense with emotion as he moved through the hallways.

Josh's thoughts halted abruptly when his foot struck something hard on the floor. The object skidded across the hall with a faint scraping sound, breaking the stillness. He froze, his grip tightening on you instinctively as his sharp eyes darted downward.

A small wooden carving, unmistakable even in the low light.

Josh shifted your weight in his arms to free one hand. Almost hesitantly, he reached down and picked up the artifact, its rough surface felt rough, even edged under his fingertips. He turned it over in his hand.

You were standing in the middle of a dark place somewhere. Half of your body is submerged in water. You were frozen, eyes wide and glassy with terror. Your body was completely rigid, as though you couldn't move even if you wanted to.

Then a grotesque, elongated hand reached into view, its skin pale and stretched unnaturally tight over jagged bones. Its fingers twitched as they clamped down with horrifying force. The hand gripped your face tightly, its long, claw-like fingers pressing into your skin as if it meant to crush your skull.

ℒℴ𝓈𝓈 𝓉ℴ𝓉ℯ𝓂

Finally, Josh reached the room he'd prepared. The door creaked as he pushed it open, revealing a small, dimly lit space with a sturdy lock. He stepped inside, carefully setting you down on the couch in the corner. Your head lolled slightly as he adjusted your position, ensuring you were comfortable.

He knelt beside you, his hands trembling as he cupped your face. "I'm sorry," he whispered again, his voice barely audible. His thumbs brushed against your cheeks, tracing the lines of your face as if trying to commit every detail to memory.

Josh pulled back reluctantly, his hands lingering on your face for just a moment longer.

"You'll understand soon. I promise." He murmured, his voice soft but firm.

With one last glance, he stood and stepped out of the room, the door clicking shut behind him. As the lock turned, he felt a pang of guilt so sharp it nearly brought him to his knees. But he pushed it aside, forcing himself to focus.

You are safe now. That was all that mattered to him.

𝒞𝒽𝓇𝒾𝓈 ℋ𝒶𝓇𝓉𝓁ℯ𝓎

The basement was cold, darker than you'd expected, with a damp, heavy air that clung to your skin. The dim overhead light buzzed faintly, casting flickering shadows along the cracked stone walls.

You were in the lead, your pace quick and determined despite the growing fear gnawing at your chest. Your older sister, Sam, was down here somewhere, you knew it. She had to be. Every instinct told you to find her before it was too late.

"Sam's smart," Chris said from behind you, his voice low but steady as he tried to keep up with you, though you could hear the slight tremor of uncertainty beneath his words. "If she's down here, she's probably already figured out a way to hide or something. Right, Ash?"

Ashley nodded, her steps careful as she moved beside Chris, her flashlight cutting weakly through the shadows.

You didn't turn to look at them, focus locked on the narrow hallway ahead. The stone walls felt too close, the air heavy with dust and decay, your hands curling into fists as you marched forward.

"Hey, slow down!" Chris called after you, his voice laced with concern. "We don't know what's down here."

You ignored him, your flashlight sweeping frantically across the walls and floor for any sign of her. The further you moved, the more the basement seemed to twist and turn, like a labyrinth.

The three of you continued deeper into the basement, the narrow hallway opening into a larger, more cavernous space. The walls here were rougher, the stone uneven and jagged in places and the faint smell of mildew lingered in the air.

"This place is insane," Chris muttered under his breath, his flashlight sweeping over the walls as he took in the eerie space. "Why does a lodge even have something like this? It's like a whole new place down there."

There was now a narrow corridor where the walls seemed to close in, the ceiling lower now, the air damp and stale. You paused for a moment to catch your breath, your flashlight flickering briefly as you swept it across the space.

Your eyes fell on something in the corner of the corridor-a faint shimmer, like something metallic. You moved toward it quickly, ignoring the chill that ran up your spine.

It was a small, cracked mirror, its surface marred with streaks of grime and dust. Beside it sat an old, rusted lantern, long extinguished. No sign of Sam. Just more emptiness.

Your chest tightened, disappointment and frustration flaring hot and sharp. You slammed a fist against the wall, the sound echoing in the narrow space. "Dammit!"

"Hey," Chris said gently, stepping closer. "We'll find her, okay? You don't have to-"

"Don't tell me to calm down!" you snapped, turning on him suddenly. "She could be down here hurt, scared, alone and we're just…" You trailed off, your voice shaking as the words caught in your throat.

Chris froze, his expression softening. He didn't argue. He just stood there, his face pale in the faint glow of his flashlight, like he wasn't sure what to say.

Ashley shifted uncomfortably beside him, her brow furrowed with worry. "We're all scared but you're not alone in this, okay? We'll find her." She said quietly, her voice soft but steady.

You didn't reply. You couldn't. Your hands were shaking and you couldn't tell if it was from anger, fear, or something worse. Instead, you turned away from them and pressed forward again, following the set of narrow stairs descended further into the earth, the edges of the stone steps worn smooth from years of use.

"Hey, wait up!" Chris called, his footsteps hurrying to catch up with you. "We should stick together, man."

You ignored him, your mind too preoccupied with thoughts of Sam. The flashlight's beam swept across the walls, illuminating strange markings and stains that made your imagination run wild.

Their words barely registered as you moved further into the room, your heart pounding heavily in your chest. You scanned the floor and walls carefully, your eyes darting between every crack and crevice for any sign of your sister.

Then, something caught your eye.

Near the base of an old wooden crate, partially hidden beneath a pile of dust and debris, was a strange object. You crouched down slowly, brushing the dirt away. Its weathered surface felt cool and rough beneath your fingertips as you picked it up, the intricate patterns on its surface oddly mesmerizing.

Your fingers wrapped around it and you shifted it to analyze the foreign object.

You were inside a dark, broken-down shelter, your back pressed against the rough wood of the wall.

You were frozen, your body stiff with fear as your wide eyes stared forward. Across the room, something tall with unnatural limbs moved slowly. Its hollow eyes scanned the room, letting out a high-pitched screech that echoed, clawing at your nerves.

Chris stood at the doorway of the shelter. His face was pale, frozen in terror as he raised the rifle in trembling hands as his finger squeezed the trigger.

𝒢𝓊𝒾𝒹ℯ 𝓉ℴ𝓉ℯ𝓂

Ashley placed a gentle hand on Chris’s arm, drawing his attention away from you. "You think she is hiding somewhere?" She suggested softly, though her voice trembled slightly.

Chris hesitated, glancing between her and the darkened stairs leading further down. "Yeah it could be," he said. He shifted his flashlight, his shoulders tense. "You should go back upstairs. Check the second floor again. Sam could've found somewhere to hide up there that we missed."

Ashley nodded slowly, her expression troubled. "You really think so?"

"It's worth a shot," Chris said, his voice quieter now.

Ashley bit her lip, glancing toward you with a look of worry etched across her face, her flashlight beam catching your face as she gave you a small, hesitant smile. "Ве careful down here, okay?"

"I will," you replied, your voice steadier now.

Ashley lingered for a moment longer, her gaze filled with concern, before nodding and heading back toward the staircase. The sound of her footsteps echoed faintly as she climbed, growing softer and softer until they disappeared entirely.

Chris turned to you, his expression serious as he adjusted the flashlight in his hand. "Alright," he said, his tone quieter now. "Let's figure this out. If Sam's down here, we're going to find her."

The dim, flickering light in the psycho's basement painted the horrifying scene in muted, sickly hues. The walls were cold, damp concrete, but they were far from empty. Photos of you and your friends on a wall, each one marked with red slashes, circles, and Xs. Some were crossed out completely, others circled with jagged edges, and the sight sent a shiver crawling down your spine.

In one corner, a row of gutted pigs hung from rusted hooks, their carcasses swaying faintly with every breath of stale air in the room. The metallic stench of blood was suffocating, mixing with the damp and decay to create an unbearable cocktail of rot. You gagged, your hand instinctively covering your nose and mouth as you tried to focus on anything else.

Chris's hand found your arm, his grip firm but trembling slightly. He pulled you closer to him, his flashlight beam sweeping nervously over the gruesome display. "Stay close to me," he murmured, his voice low but filled with tension.

You nodded silently, your heart pounding in your chest as you moved together through the darkened space.

She was out there, somewhere in this hellhole. You had to find her. You had to.

Your breaths came faster, shallower, the edges of your vision tingling as your chest began to ache. The panic set in, sharp and consuming.

"Sam…" you whispered shakily, your hand pressing against the center of your chest as it started to burn.

"Hey, hey, whoa." Chris turned to you quickly, his flashlight swinging wildly as he grabbed your shoulders. "You okay?"

Chris pulled you closer, his hands firm and steady against you. "Hey. Look at me, alright? Look at me."

You forced yourself to meet his gaze. Chris's face was pale and tense, but his eyes were focused, his voice steady as he spoke. "You need to calm down. Just breathe, okay? Slow and deep. In and out. Like this."

He exaggerated his breathing, inhaling deeply and exhaling slowly as he held you against him. "Come on, you can do this."

You tried to follow his example, your breaths coming out shaky and broken at first. But Chris didn't let go. He held you there, his arms wrapping protectively around you as he pulled you against his chest.

The steady rhythm of his breathing and the warmth of his hold grounded you, pulling you back from the sharp edge of panic. Slowly, the burning in your chest began to fade, replaced by the sound of Chris's heartbeat against your ear.

"Better?" he asked quietly, looking down at you.

You nodded weakly, your fingers curling into the fabric of his jacket as you exhaled shakily.

Without thinking, you leaned in, your lips brushing his in a soft, fleeting kiss. It was barely a whisper of contact. A wordless thank you, a quiet plea for comfort, and something deeper you couldn’t yet put into words. Your breath mingled with his, the closeness leaving a faint heat between you even as you pulled back.

"Thanks, Chris."

Chris’s face flushed instantly, his eyes wide and startled. His hand hesitated for a moment before coming up to cup your cheek, his touch gentle and careful, as though you might shatter under his fingertips.

“You’re welcome,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper, cracking slightly with emotion. His thumb brushed over your skin, his lips curving into the faintest, most heartfelt smile.

Then you heard it.

A scream ripped through the basement, sharp and desperate and your stomach twisted violently as you recognized the voice. "Sam!" you shouted, your voice cracking as you broke away from Chris, running toward the source of the sound.

"Wait!" Chris called after you, but his voice was distant, drowned out by the adrenaline roaring in your ears.

You sprinted toward a room at the far end of the basement. Your hands were shaking as you pushed the two doors open, gripping the handle tightly before throwing it open.

Inside, a single chair sat in the right corner of the room, its frame worn and splintered. Someone was sitting there, slumped forward, their body motionless.

"Sam," you whispered, your throat tight with fear.

You approached slowly, your steps hesitant as the world seemed to narrow around you. The air felt thick and suffocating as your hand reached out, trembling as you gripped the back of the chair and turned it around.

A mannequin stared back at you, a mask of a clown on it’s face. It was dressed in Sam's clothes. Your breath caught in your throat, a sickening wave of confusion and dread crashing over you as you stumbled back.

A sound came from behind. You turned sharply, just in time to see Chris stumbling backward, his flashlight clattering to the floor.

"Chris!"

The psycho loomed behind him. In one hand, he held a gas canister attached to a mask that he pressed to Chris’s face. Chris choked as he thrashed against the grip until he succumbed to the gas.

The psycho turned sharply, his movements swift as he lunged for you. You tried to backpedal, but his gloved hand shot out, closing around your neck with brutal strength.

Your body hit the wall hard, flashlight falling from your grasp. You gasped for air, clawing at his hand as he squeezed, his mask reflecting the faint light in distorted angles.

Your fists pounding against his chest in desperate, useless strikes. The edges of your vision darkened, your chest burning as your lungs fought for air.

Then you felt the cold metal of the gas mask press against your face. The faint hiss of the anesthetic filled your ears, and your struggles grew weaker. Your arms dropped to your sides, your legs giving out as darkness swallowed you whole.

You woke up to the sound of heavy breathing and the faint clink of metal. Your head throbbed painfully, your vision swimming as you tried to focus. Slowly, the room came into view. A cold, gray space lit by a single flickering bulb

Your wrists were tied tightly to the arms of a chair, the rough rope biting into your skin. Across from you, Chris sat in a similar chair, his face pale and streaked with sweat. One of his hands was free, but the other remained bound, his knuckles white as he gripped the edge of the chair.

There was a gun on the table between you and him.

You groaned, blinking against the faint light.

Chris stirred, his head jerking up as he blinked rapidly. When his gaze landed on you, his face twisted with panic.

"Shit," he muttered, trying to pull at the ropes around his wrist. "Are you okay? Are you hurt?"

You winced, your throat aching with every breath. "I… I'm fine."

Chris's eyes darted to your neck. The purple bruises from the psycho's grip were already forming, faint lines marring your skin. His free hand clenched into a fist.

"I'm gonna murder his fucking face off," Chris growled, his voice low and sharp with barely restrained rage.

Before you could respond, the steady whir of machinery made your blood run cold. You looked up to see a series of big chainsaws mounted to the ceiling, its blade spinning as it began to descend slowly toward the two of you.

A distorted voice echoed through the room.

"Hello, there, my special little subjects. Here’s the twist: Chris has made one fatal choice already today, and now he must make another one. Chris, you can take the gun in front of you and shoot him, or you can shoot yourself. Whoever is left: lives”

Chris raised the gun up on the ceiling, pointing it at the chandelier and pulling the trigger over and over. You flinched at hearing the sound of gunshots so up close.

Chris paled instantly, his face twisting in disbelief as the chainsaw remained unscathed and kept moving down towards your heads.

His breathing grew ragged as his gaze darted between the gun and you. Your heart clenched painfully as Chris pointed the gun at the base of his neck, hands trembling and teeth clenched so tightly you could see the tension in his jaw, his breaths fast and uneven, hissing through his teeth as if the air was being forced out.

The barrel of the gun wavered slightly, his finger hovering over the trigger. For a moment, his lips parted, a faint whisper escaping that was too quiet to hear. His body shook with the effort of holding the weapon steady, the weight of his decision pressing down on him.

"Chris!" you shouted, struggling against the ropes. "Don't you dare!"

His lips trembling as he tried to steady his hand. "I love you," he whispered, his voice breaking.

Tears were now blurring your vision as you fought with everything you had to break free.

Chris closed his eyes, took a final, shaking breath and pulled the trigger.

Note: let me know if you had a favorite among the four. I’d love to hear your thoughts! <3 I’m also open to any feedback or constructive criticism you might have.

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mintharabaenrelore · 2 days ago

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Minthara's Parents

"I'm sure my mother has missed me- she likes competition."-Minthara

I've been working on this post awhile and I'm so excited to share it with you. I referenced @lunastrophe's excellent post on the topic for several details, and R.A. Salvatore's "Homeland" played a crucial role.

*I will make an individual post on Minthara's relationship to her mother later on, particularly the psychology of it, as it is fascinating and utterly tragic.

Minthara is- or was- unusually close to her mother, who taught her how to 'survive the perils of society', but she says there was 'no love to be found.' Minthara's mother saved her daughter's life by shielding her with her own body when Minthara was an infant, and yet she later tried to kill her. Minthara intends to kill her- "[...] I only regret that I left before enjoying a matricide. That would be a memory to cherish."- but says it is 'returning the favor.'

What do we know?

House Devir fell from Lolth's favor in 1297 DR, when they were destroyed by House Do'Urden, due to Viconia's actions. Minthara describes herself as having been young and impressionable at this time, so she must have been in the early decades of her life. Therefore, she was likely born around 1270-1290 DR, leaving her approximately 222 years old in 1492 DR, the year Baldur's Gate III is set in.

Minthara is a Baenre. Her mother is confirmed to be Baenre, as in the epilogue, if you romance Minthara (I highly recommend it) she says her name is her mother's.

When Minthara is asked if her mother is still alive, she replies, "I expect so. If the world were to end, I think my mother would survive to rule over the ruins." At the epilogue party, she tells Origin Karlach, "I have a war of my own to fight, against my mother and her people [...]" which both confirms that her mother is alive and suggests that she is in a position of great power.

Minthara's mother is competitive (Minthara says this herself), resilient, and ambitious (Minthara says her mother likes Neverwinter because it is "ripe for conquering"), much like her daughter.

Minthara and her mother were unusually close- she held her as a child, taught her to "talk, walk, and then kill" and how to "survive the perils of society", gave her a torture rack for her 13th birthday, and they appear to have conversed frequently.

The fact that Minthara has committed avunculicide (the killing of one's uncle) confirms one of her parents had a brother. She also 'picked off' her 'siblings one by one', and Orin claims Minthara murdered her sister in the cradle to secure her inheritance.The first part of her name, "Min", means lesser/second, suggesting she is a 2nd child.

I believe Minthara's father is alive for the following reasons:

1. During the dryad love test, she lists her "-icides", (androcide, senicide and avunculicide). She does not mention patricide. She tells Wyll that patricide is the first step to greatness but she does not say she has done so herself.

2. When Minthara is describing how she and Orin are similar in some ways, she says that they both have "parents" who protect them with one hand and torment them with the other, rather than "mothers".

3. Minthara says (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-vYBaYJgz_c, at 43:50) "I'll spot my father too, with any luck" at some point; @mogruith's research suggests that this line was mistakenly given to Minthara when it should have gone to Wyll, so it is not solid evidence.

But Minthara never mentions him- not even once.

So, who is Minthara's mother? *I don't think it's possible to figure out who her father is with the information I have

It cannot be Yvonnel or Triel Baenre, who are dead. Liriel Baenre is out of the question. Noori Baenre, I believe, is too young.

Yovnnel Baenre had 15 daughters, each a high priestess, acording to R.A. Salvatore's "Homeland". The majority were alive, it seemed, around 1297 DR. The only two remaining in 1480 DR and thus during Baldur's Gate III were Quenthel and Sos'Umtpu. So could it be one of them?

Quenthel: No.

The firstborn of Quenthel Baenre is Myrineyl Baenre. In 1480 DR, 12 years prior to the events of Baldur's Gate III, she is in her last year at Arach-Tinilith. Baldur's Gate takes place in 1492 DR. It is obvious that Minthara is older than her, so she can't be Quenthel's daughter.

Sos'Umptu: Probably not, unfortunately. (I adore Sos'Umptu.)

Sos'Umptu, the keeper of the Baenre chapel, has been described as 'one of the least ambitious drow females her mother had ever known.' Minthara has also mentioned her mother having visited surface cities before, while Sos'Umptu hardly leaves the chapel if she can help it. These facts contrast with Minthara's portrayal of her mother as power-hungry and world-wise. Plus, I have never seen a mention of Sos'Umptu having had children.

@lunastrophe says in her post, "It seems that daughters of House Baenre – at least the eldest and the most important ones – were not allowed to have their own children while the matron mother of their house was still alive (from Siege of Darkness). Triel was free to have children only after she ascended to the position of matron mother, and the same went for Quenthel."

This all heavily suggests it is not Sos'Umptu- but it's not out of the question.

Could it perhaps be Merith Baenre, the second-most-powerful priestess of her House as of 1361 DR, considered for the role of the next Mistress of Arach-Tinilith? Perhaps- but Minthara has never implied that her mother is adopted rather than a genetic Baenre, and Merith used to be the daughter of a street sweeper before her clerical powers caught Yvonnel Baenre's eye and caused her to adopt her as a daughter.

So, who could it be?

I am inclined to think...

Zal'Therra Baenre: Zal'Therra Baenre- a cousin of Triel, and commander of the rearguard of the Army of the Black Spider in 1372 DR. The most promising of Triel's cousins, she seems to fit Minthara's implications that her mother is ambitious, brutal, and powerful, as the highest ranking House Baenre member of the army.

Not only is the description right, she is similar to Minthara as a warrior the leader of an army. Even the second half of her name, 'Therra', is similar to Minthara's 'Thara'. Plus, everything about her is so vague that it's plausible she had children aside from Minthara- the 'siblings' she mentioned.

I have yet to read "Condemnation", though, so correct me if I'm wrong about anything.

Final notes: if Zal'Therra Baenre is a cousin of Triel, that would make Sos'Umptu, Quenthel, Jarlaxle and others Minthara's aunts and uncles.

#Minthara Baenre #Baldur's Gate III #BG3 #Minthara #House Baenre #Drow #Menzoberranzan #DnD #Zel'Therra Baenre #--Minthara Baenre Lore 💜🕷️🕸️--

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arcaneconfessions · 2 days ago

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I feel like everyone bitching about shipping and shipping discourse need to understand that Timebomb, Caitvi, and Jayvik, are all ships that predates Arcane as a show by years.

And the people who ship them might not even be shipping the versions of the character's that are in Arcane.

Caitvi has been a ship essentially since they debuted in LoL, Timebomb at least since Ekko got the game lines that outright state that he had a crush on Jinx before she went full mad bomber, and Jayvik at least since it was revealed in their lore to have been academic rivals turned partners turned bitter enemies.

None of the ships that started in Arcane are going to be as popular or have as much fanart/fic about them.

Like the oldest Caitvi fic I can find on AO3 is from 2014, and it's not even tagged Caitvi it's only tagged as their pre-arcane shipname of Piltover's Finest.

Oldest Jayvik fic I can see is from 2015, oldest Timebomb fic is 2016.

This doesn't even get into the fics that inevitably got deleted over the years, or were lost in the ff.net purge, or are just on fic sites I don't use like Wattpad.

Like I keep seeing people (who I can only assume are fans of just Arcane) who are acting confused by people shipping these ships because they feel the ship wasn't presented well, or convincing to them personally in Arcane.

As if all three of these ships don't predates Arcane by years, and Caitvi in particular is at least a decade old, and the other two aren't far behind.

I feel like a number of people who were either introduced to these characters via Arcane or have only ever interacted with the Arcane part of the expanded canon, are failing to understand that a number of people who ship Jayvik, Caitvi, and Timebomb were shipping those ships before Arcane was even announced.

Or that might not even be shipping the versions of the character's that are in Arcane, but in one of the many skin line AUs.

I mean my favorite iteration of Caitvi are the <3 skin AU, where they're a pair of highschoolers who are starcrossed due to being in different cliques, with Caitlyn being a preppy good girl, while Vi is a trouble making skater girl.

Because it's a cute au where neither are cops. I mean look at these two:

https://static.wikia.nocookie.net/leagueoflegends/images/2/24/Vi_HeartacheSkin.jpg/revision/latest?cb=20230208202510

It's great.

And maybe it's lame of me to pick the AU with the lowest stakes, but acab, and this is like one of three skin line AUs where they aren't cops, and also they canonically write love letters to each other and go on secret picnics in this AU.

While I honestly don't think Arcane Vi is in any kind of headspace to try to be starting a romantic relationship for basically the entire show. And Caitlyn isn't really either in season 2.

But that's one of the good things about Riot.

They've made a number of AUs where these two characters aren't the the mentally unstable and grieving women they are in Arcane. Where they can be in a healthy and happy relationship with no relationship based strife.

Arcane fans need to expand their horizons, and stop assuming the worst about each other based on who they ship is basically what I'm saying.

Also people complaining about the multiverse being brought into Arcane in season 2, should come to terms with the fact that the idea of multiverse and alternate timelines have also explored in LoL expanded canon before Arcane.

That's basically the logic that the skin line AUs exist under.

#anti caitvi #jayvik #timebomb #caitlyn kiramman #vi arcane #jayce talis #viktor arcane #jinx arcane #ekko arcane #arcane

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kamechan98 · 1 day ago

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Vivianne did say this season was going to wrap up an arc at the end of season 2 and considering Stolas and Blitzø’s relationship has been the biggest focus this whole season I can only imagine this means that the Will-They Won’t-They drama is going to be mostly over and they’ll focus on their growth as people while still being there for each other and grow as a potential couple. Especially since she’s also said that season 3 is going to be “a queer roller coaster”.

I certainly hope that’s the case because I am so ready for them to get closer, get to know each other better and just be cute together. I cannot deal with anymore miscommunication drama or some other shit.

LET THESE BOYS BE HAPPY ALREADY, VIV!

I am so happy where Stolitz is at...

They're definitely not "just friends" but you can tell that they're taking things slow, and I love that for them.

Blitz and Stolas look at each other with so much love, it's so beautiful.

Stolas now knows Blitz cares about him, and I love that they didn't need to say it.

#helluva boss #blitzø #stolas #stolitz #sinsmas spoilers #helluva boss sinsmas #helluva boss sinsmas spoilers

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felassan · 2 days ago

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Some more DA:TV and related snippets from Sylvia Feketekuty, Part 3. rest of post under a cut due to length and spoilers. [Post One, Post Two]

Ran out of characters or something in post 2. :)

User: "I LOVE the line "a raw, strangling fear, struck somewhere deep past the heart". It's beautiful and it resonates with me since I myself struggle with anxiety. Now for the questions! 1) Can you talk more about the banter between Emmrich and Harding after we start romancing him? What is her motivation behind it? Is she critical of their relationship or is she worried about Emmrich? 2) I love the argument Rook and Emmrich have before Tearstone Island, it gives nice depth to their relationship. But what did Emmrich think he would accomplish with that conversation? Did he want to break up with Rook because he thought it would be easier for him if something happened to Rook? 3) Not a question but I love Hezenkoss. Such a dedicated hater lol. -- Sylvia Feketekuty: "That was one of the first lines where I started to feel I had a handle on his voice in the first draft, so that means a lot to hear. (And thank you for noting the team effort, I got a lot of great feeback from the other writers and the editors on Emmrich. He wouldn't be as good without them.) On to questions: 1) My personal take: I think Harding is worried because she's very perceptively noticed how hard Emmrich's fallen for Rook, and that he's a man of large emotions. (And because they become pretty good friends over the course of the game.) 2) I think Emmrich let his anxieties run away with him, afraid that this romance wasn't, couldn't possibly be the One True Love he so wanted, and that's how his fear expressed itself. (Did he WANT to break up? No, but he was bracing himself in case Rook did think it was only a fling and so on and so forth, they should get it out in the open, and so on.) 3) Thank you! I loved writing her. She will always be a hater until her (un)dying day."" [source, two, three, four, five, six] -- John Epler: "someday we'll get the Hezenkoss/Anaris reluctant team-up the world deserves" [source] -- Sylvia: "Somehow, in the realm of pure imagination, they're already trying to strangle each other." [source] -- User: "Very important question- would Anaris finger gun? (Finger crossbow?)" -- John: "as a man defined primarily by his tremendous insecurities Anaris also takes himself incredibly seriously and unconsciously mirrors Elgar'nan, an elf he both loathes and desperately wishes he were so the real question is, would Elgar'nan finger gun?" [source]

User: "On my 1st run I thought some choices felt like the 'bad' ones and avoided them - Lich Emmerich, Harding's Anger, Qunari Taash etc. But on my 2nd run I was so pleasantly surprised to see that it wasn't the case! None of the companion choices feel right or wrong, just different, and that's fantastic." / Sylvia: "Thanks! We tried to make either choice compelling, to have something for different players either way. So I'm so glad to hear that." [source]

User, on Manfred winning a character award: "Congrats Manfred we knew you had it in you!" / Sylvia: "He did it! My little skeleton pal did it! (Especial thanks to the animators and voice actor, Matt Mercer, because like 90% of his personality lives in those gangly limbs and his hissing)" [source]

User: "I just wanted to say that Emmerich and Josephine are so interesting and well-written" / Sylvia: "I feel very lucky I got to bring them into DA, with teams that went for them 100%." [source]

User: "I enjoyed Emmrich's addendum to the codex about Templars in Nevarra: are they primarily there as backup if something goes profoundly wrong? Would they ever get someone who just wants to help down in the Necropolis, pretty please? (also <3 Vorgoth, they're great)" / Sylvia: ""are they primarily there as backup if something goes profoundly wrong?" That was my own take. You don't NOT want Templars, in case some ritual gets disrupted in an utterly disastrous fashion. But other times...the Mortalitasi flex their clout. "Would they ever get someone who just wants to help down in the Necropolis, pretty please?" Some Watchers might not be immune to flattery. I think a few templars could be all right under some circumstances, but that they'd be assigned a mage. (A bit of a reverse of the southern mage-templar pairs.) "(also <3 Vorgoth, they're great)" Thank you! I was so pumped when I saw the final art for them, everything I'd dreamed. (And their voice actor, Brent Mukai, was amazing.)" [source, two, three]

User: "I wanted to ask you what you think nevarran wedding attire might look like? or if you’ve considered it? asking for science." / Sylvia: "Geeze, that's a good question. I imagine the couple would exchange some custom-made grave gold pieces to mark the occasion, given how important it is in Nevarra. But other than that, you should let your imagination run wild." [source]

User: "Is seeing Josephine as Asexual or part of the Ace Spectrum a valid interpretation of her character?" / Sylvia: "Totally, if that's how you want to see the character and relationship. (My policy is generally that if it's not directly contradicted in the game, you can take that kind of thing as a valid read of the character.)" [source]

Sylvia: "I'll say this (spoiler free): there's a scene in "Walking the Graves" where I felt Emmrich's voice finally click for me on the first draft, so that one's special to me." [source]

User: "I remembered some questions I had about Emmrich.. Can he play any instruments? I always invision him playing a pipe organ or maybe violin! If not, are there any he would like to learn? 😊 Also, I was curious, can he ice skate? out on that frozen Nevarran lake in winter" / Sylvia: "Those are interesting questions. Because they're something I never considered or wrote, there's no real canon there yet. I see Emmrich as more an appreciator of music than a musician, but can't rule it out. As for ice-skating, I'm not even sure we've shown that in Thedas. I think Emmrich would enjoy it though. UPDATE: a friend reminded me about this tidbit from World of Thedas 2: "Ice skating – during the winter in Nevarra, people often skate on the frozen over Minanter river." So it's canon now. Emmrich ice-skates. He instantly manifests a scarf when doing so. (I fall on my sword for forgetting this.)" [source, two, three]

User: "about Josephine: what would her ideal/dream wedding be? I was tickled when I read about that in her letter to her Inquisitor I just have to know" / Sylvia: "what a delightful question in turn! I think she'd want a big, flower-filled, no-holds barred wedding at her family's estate. All her relatives, friends she made in the Inquisition, the Inquisitor's relatives (if they have any/keep in touch.) She'd begin planning 16 months in advance." [source]

Sylvia: "Aw thank you! (On behalf of me, and the rest of the team, so many people worked so hard on our eccentric necromancer man.)" [source]

Sylvia: "The Mourn Watch and Emmrich are a bit eccentric, but I really wanted their reverence for the dead (and the living) to feel genuine." [source]

User: "As someone who himself gets awful pangs about the thought of death and nothingness, it was really refreshing to see a character have those same thoughts as me, especially as he also happens to be a Necromancer who is around death daily." / Sylvia: "You're welcome, and thanks for the kind words. It's a familiar thing for me too, so I really wanted to talk about it. I suspect it's far more common than we might think." [source]

User: "My HOF was a spirit healer, very kind & very curious, & for years I've considered how that special connection to spirits might lend itself to an interest in Thedan necromancy & puzzling out where spirits & souls begin & end. Emmrich, Manfred/Curiosity and the wisps gave me so much to think about!" / Sylvia: "Thank you so much! And that's interesting about your HOF. They may've found some kindred spirits if they ever ventured further north." [source]

User: "No questions other than thank you and the team for Emmrich and Nevarra / The Mourn Watch. Seeing death treated with such kindness, empathy and as beautiful renewal rather than grim end is so refreshing and personal to me, it was a great experience to have!" / Sylvia: "That's one of the things I really wanted to express in Emmrich's arc, so I'm so glad you felt that way." [source]

User: "I feel that my Rook would want to learn more about the Mourn Watch after saving the world." / Sylvia: "Emmrich and the Watchers would love that. Emmrich probably has like, five lectures he could rattle off without preparation for your Rook already, haha." [source]

User: "do you have any favorite tidbits about Audric or Myrna that you can share?" / Sylvia: "As for tidbits, hrm. I did post something on what Audric's up to these days. Nothing surprising, but he's doing well! And I never wrote it in-game, so it lives in the hazy world of "only canon in my head": while Emmrich doesn't come from nobility, Myrna does-the Van Markham branch. She had the finest education, even before the Watchers. She doesn't play it up much, though. Her real passion's her work. And the theater. (I did a small bit about her love of theater here [link or see Post Two]. I think she's a regular attendee.)" [source, two, three]

Sylvia: "I also really wanted to explore more of the Necropolis ever since I first read about it. I'm very lucky the team and I finally got to show everyone the crypts..." [source]

User: "he stories, the worldbuilding, the characters, the locations, I loved it all so much I played my MW Rook twice" / Sylvia: "Nice. The Mourn Watch appreciates your studious interest in the hallowed art of necromancy." [source]

Sylvia: "thank you on behalf of the whole team, as you've surmised there were a lot of people bringing him to life. (Especial props to Nick Borraine, his VA, who's wonderful in the role.)" [source]

Sylvia: "It always makes me happy when people mention the short stories, and glad you enjoyed meeting (and perhaps romancing...) Emmrich." [source]

Sylvia, on Vorgoth: "I'm afraid I deliberately left our cloak-shrouded Watcher a mystery. But I'll say this: I'm sure they'd show your Rook in that picture their art collection, an honor Vorgoth bestows only on those they like or trust." [source]

User: "does the watch have any rules in regards to courtship/marriage between fellow watchers? An does Emmrich lecture at the Necropolis or at the College of Magi in Cumberland?" / Sylvia: "1) I actually got into that a little here [link or see Post Two]. Short story, it's not forbidden for mages within Circles to court or marry, so no particular rules there I think. 2) That is a very good question. Full disclosure, I am answering on the fly with what I think makes most sense. I can see Emmrich doing a bit of both in his younger days. But as he grew older, more specialized in his field, and had more MW responsibilities, he probably worked more out of the Necropolis. (And prefers it anyhow.) By the time DAV starts, it's probably been years since he was in Cumberland." [source, two, three]

User: "Thank you for your moving portrayal of thanatophobia. While most people have some fear of death, it was amazing to see the thanatophobic panic attacks etc portrayed so accurately." / Sylvia: "Thanks - they're not an unfamiliar phenomenon to me, I wanted Emmrich to try to get across that helplessness and wretched terror. (I suspect more people are affected by them than we commonly talk about.)" [source]

User: "whoever decided “DA liches are immortal protectors and not always evil?” Chef’s kiss. It’s all I’ve ever wanted!" / Sylvia: "Thanks again! It was in Emmrich's first draft. The other writers and editors gave me good feeback on lichdom and the philosophy behind it especially" [source]

User: "I wonder, did you prefer writing for either lich Emmrich or mortal? I would imagine it's a bit different." / Sylvia: "I wouldn't say I had a favorite, but it was fun to try to figure out what approach to take in scenes that had split lich/mortal lines. I didn't want Emmrich to be unrecognizable as a lich, but I did want him to occasionally be a little different, slowly absorbing what he'd become. We see him at the start of this new stage of his existence, so I think even by the end of Veilguard he's still just at the very start of adjusting to, and exploring, what he is now. I liked giving him that wonder!" [source, two]

Sylvia: "The Memorial Gardens were the heart of the Necropolis to me, the level artists and level designer and our audio team worked so much magic there. (And the lighting team! First time I saw it properly lit I think I clapped.)" [source]

User: "Also wanted to know if you wrote Josephine’s letter to Inquisitor if romanced?" / Sylvia: "I did write that letter, thanks! It was a joy to return to Josephine, even in a codex sent to her dearest Inquisitor." [source]

Sylvia on where Emmrich sleeps: "As to his sleeping arrangements, I gave a tantalizing (non) answer here [[link] or see [Post Two]]. (Though I think he'd prefer a proper bed, whatever form it takes. Emmrich's too old to be sleeping on cots like a student anymore.)" [source]

Sylvia: "So glad the team and I got to crack open the ancient doors of the Grand Necopolis, I've been curious about it too ever since reading about it eons ago. (And very glad you're liking MW Rook, I really wanted things to feel different when chatting with Emmrich as a Watcher yourself!)" [source]

User: "I enjoyed Johanna IMMENSELY and she is most definitely my favourite villain of all time now, so thank you for her as well!" / Sylvia: "She was a treat to write. (And Hezenkoss would 100% applaud you on your fine judgement and obvious taste.)" [source]

Sylvia on Emmrich's fear: "I'm not unfamiliar with that fear either, and it means a great deal to hear getting to know Emmrich helped you out even a little. (And happy to hear you dug Manfred!)" [source]

Sylvia: "I'm especially glad you liked the battle theme. Our music director instantly got the tone of Emmrich's arc, he and the audio team spun off so many great tracks from that core theme." [source]

User on Emmrich: "He's a brilliant character and everyone involved in his creation should be very proud!" / Sylvia: "There were a lot of people working on him, I was lucky so many people got onboard right away with our professor of necromancy. And I loved writing him chatting with Bellara, the mentor/student relationship was fun to hash out with her writer." [source]

User: "(1/2) Hello Sylvia! Like everyone else, I love Emmrich, but I also wanted to say thank you for your work in DAI. Josie was my first romance in DA and I love her a lot. My question had to do with her codex entry in Veilguard for a romanced Inquisitor: (2/2) Her letter in Veilguard implies she hasn't married yet, 10 years later. Josie is so image-conscious in how she conducts herself, so I was surprised she would put off marriage for that long as the first born noble of her house. Curious what the idea behind it was if you can share." / Sylvia: "Thank you! I'm honored to hear Josepine was your first DA romance. Re: marriage, you're right, that is a big time gap. I basically didn't want to surprise returning players with a marriage that had already happened to their Inquisitor offscreen. I'm sure Josephine has kept busy with world affairs, and so has the Inquisitor, which isn't a bad reason it's taken so long. But I thought it'd be more engaging for players to imagine the proposal, how they'd react, what the wedding would be like, as something good happening to them in the future." [source, two]

User: "I wanted to ask about banter I saw online; why does Taash say Emmrich smells like potash? Isn't that a bad smell, like rotten eggs? He doesn't strike me as a smelly person outside of being around the dead. Maybe Trick would know too" / Trick Weekes: "IIRC, I based it on residual scents that would come from chemicals -- can't remember whether it was what you'd get from working with embalming liquids or something used to style hair. That said, Taash comments on scents non-adaari can't detect, so it's not like he smells bad to normal people." [source] / Sylvia: "Chiming in late, but what Trick said. Taash has an incredible sense of smell, but they're detecting the tiny residuals. (Which is why poor Taash can smell that burial Emmrich helped with, even though he scrubbed down thoroughly afterwards. Gotta keep hygienic!)" [source]

User: "I wish more games had Romances like this, he was just simply perfect. [Emmrich] believably cares for Rook." / Sylvia: "I'm glad that part felt heartfelt, it was one of the cores of his romance for me." [source]

User: "What inspired you to want to go into writing for games? Or just writing in general?" / Sylvia: "I've played games since I was about 5 years old and that's what really did it. I fell in love at once with these cool, weird little worlds you could visit as someone else. As for writing in general, it feels goofy (or ominous) to call it a Calling, but it's just something I've always enjoyed doing. It's also probably what I'm best at, which means I'm unfathomably lucky I ended up at BioWare. I don't think I would've been happy until I was doing game writing somewhere, somehow!" [source, two]

User: "I have two questions about his and Johanna's childhood. 1. How and when did he and her(johanna) meet? 2. What was the story between him and her back then? Sorry if it's too long a question. Thank you! Oh I'm so sorry, how could I forget another important question😭😓 3. How tall do you think he is👀 He's almost as tall as Taash!" / Sylvia: "I have not forgotten the other two questions, I'll get to them later (it's just getting late here) but this one's a little easier. I THINK he's about 6 foot 2 inches without his boots, so about 6 foot 3 with them on. (A character artist would have to confirm or deny if I'm remembering right.)" [source]

Sylvia on her time at BioWare: "So I gt a 5 year award statue that looked like a glass disc, and then we swapped over the to the BioWare Character award statues so I got Wrex as my 10th one. (I think I remember people who'd been around earlier than me with those clocks on their desks!)" [source]

#dragon age: the veilguard #dragon age the veilguard spoilers #dragon age: dreadwolf #dragon age 4 #the dread wolf rises #da4 #dragon age #bioware #video games #long post #longpost #lgbtq #mass effect #dragon age: tevinter nights

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soft-niku-and-sake · 2 days ago

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Zolu/Luzo in Boss Luffy TV Special

I feel like this scene isn't talk about much. Although this episode isn't canon, I love how it highlights Luffy and Zoro's dynamic and their unspoken understanding.

Here, Zoro was working under Buggy to capture Vivi. At first, Luffy questions Zoro's intention. For context, Luffy and Zoro don’t know each other very well at this point, but Luffy instinctively knows Zoro isn’t a bad guy—especially since Zoro had already protected Vivi earlier.

When Luffy realized Zoro's tactics, he made this huge ass grin and play along with him (Working together to beat Buggy's crew). I love how they can easily read each other despite not knowing each other. The amount of trust and telepathic understanding between these two transcends beyond canon-verse.

Their relationship is so beautiful. It's so warm and wholesome.

Luffy looks so proud <3

In summary,

Luffy (who barely knows Zoro) never doubted him being a good guy and

Zoro (who also barely knows Luffy) trusted him to quickly understand his intention and go along with it.

#luffy #luzo #monkey d. luffy #one piece #roronoa zoro #zolu #zoro #zoro x luffy #boss luffy

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fallenclan · 9 hours ago

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wow! it feels weird for this moon (and ravenstar's leadership/arc to finally be over)... i have some Thoughts, particularly about the exiled trio!

patchback -- i like that, of the three, she's the only one who looks genuinely angry. the same is true when ravenstar is killed. levi and sleepydawn look more surprised in that instance as well. given her history, this is the SECOND time patchback has been exiled. i imagine that she enjoys being a part of a clan. possibly, being exiled for the first time was the worst thing that ever happened to her, so when cherrystar gave her a chance, patchback chose to try and "adapt," to be whoever cherrystar would accept. but then ravenstar gave her the room to be herself... surely, with his support, and levi as deputy, then patchback will never have to fear exile again? ha! wrong.

levi -- levi only joined fallenclan after realizing an opportunity to hold power awaited him. i highly doubt levi cares about clan life. i think he's disappointed/annoyed, but not particularly "devestated" in the way that i imagine patchback is. levi will just... move on with his life, and try to find power somewhere else. i think he and patchback will stick together, since they're friends, and there's power in numbers. i believe levi likes power, but doesn't like to be the one making decisions (he likes his second-in-command spot imo). so, with ravenstar gone, patchback becomes his first-in-command. better yet, i imagine levi enjoyed ravenstar, but didn't like him. levi actually likes patchback, so being her second-in-command, backing her up, or better yet, being her partner is especially appealing.

sleepydawn -- he just looks numb. after ravenstar's death, i imagine he quickly resigned himself to what his fate would be. it's also noteworthy that his mate, ashblink, won't be joining him. ashblink could easily have chosen to leave with sleepydawn, but didn't. their relationship felt very shallow from the beginning. while i do think they care about each other, i think sleepydawn's loyalty to ravenstar would always come over his affection for ashblink, and ashblink would ultimately realize that sleepydawn isn't looking for love. within their interactions, ashblink is shown being caring/supportive (as best he can) towards sleepydawn, who looks bored/disinterested or rebuffs him. sleepydawn doesn't know how to be in a relationship. he needs to sort his own shit out before having a boyfriend. i think there's a 50/50 chance that sleepydawn will set out on his own, and try to "find himself" while also seething in bitterness and grief, versus deciding to throw in his lot with patchback and levi.

silly idea: patchback starts her own clan (ravenclan? after the first cat to ever """accept""" her for who she is) with levi as deputy. sleepydawn joins. teeheehee. it would be funny, but in all likelihood, i think the three of them will just have to face reality and Cope rather than getting any sort of resolution they would have hoped for.

anyway, yay wolfstar!!! yay kestrelfeather! yay pondshine and flamefall and cloudtuft!! yippee!! i love how happy wolfstar looks for once, and i was delighted to see broccoli and pepperswipe <3 i know sweetclover is so proud... but also trying to be there for her parents

also finchbeak kits next moon! is the father chumtail or flamefall? or a mysterious, third cat... comment down below! /j

-🐉

MY GOD dragon once again you have hit the nail perfectly on the head... i don't even need to make an explanation post you got it in one. incredible

#fallenasks #dragon anon #<333333

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birdsandbeetlesandmoths · 22 hours ago

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So. Sonic 3. That was. certainly. hoo boy *collapses to the sound of a metal pipe falling*

Spoilers and thoughts under cut (LONG POST)

Well, my pre-movie post was SO WRONG. I think most stobotnik fans were, thinking that Stone would be the one dying. I- truly wasn’t expecting it.

I’ll get back to that in a second, let me get all of my silly things out of the way/the things i was hype about/had to crush my partner and friend’s hands about while witnessing.

The antics between Gerald and Ivo were expected but oh my GOD JIM CARREY. you are a national treasure, have fun in retirement. we will miss you greatly, but this being your final movie (probably) is a great thing to culminate your absolutely stunning career.

Anyway, their dance sequence was fucking insane, and as much as I was cringing, I was grinning through it too. The fight on the Eclipse cannon was also questionable BUT HOLY FUCK NOW I GET THE PRAYING MANTIS/FLY REFERENCE. (Thank god it wasn’t directly about stone and robotnik but i’m already cooking how i can connect them). Spanking? Also in my Sonic movie. But yeah.

Gerald and Ivo could never be more alike in intellect, but different in morals. Evident through Gerald’s fixation on avenging his daughter with no remorse or thought for whoever will get in the way, throwing away Ivo and the whole of the world as a result). He’s willing to kill himself, but as Shadow says and believes, that isn’t what Maria would have wanted.

I used to not like the Wachowskis. I was already a little unsettled when the first movie released by the fact that characters unrelated to previous Sonic media were being utilized as major plot elements, but during the second and third movies, I began to absolutely love them.

This third movie cemented that love. The father-son relationship between Tom and Sonic specifically. My heart was aching in the first scene at their little campsite, Happy BEarthday, and their heart-to-heart in Sonic’s old cave, talking about Choice (an analysis incoming) and that you always have a choice, and that your lungs (heart) will help you find the right one.

I think this movie might’ve done. One of the best jobs of displaying found family. The sibling relationship between Tails, Knuckles, and Sonic was the most heartrendingly beautiful and achingly real thing I’ve seen in a while. And it really hits you, the fact that they’re kids.

And the amount of silly little jokes, Tails having his gadgetry and Knuckles with his blunt personality, Sonic tying them all together with his wit and charm, it all became slightly surreal to see. To see something so happy, so delicately real.

Oh my god, on the trio, Knuckles saving both Sonic and Tails from falling to Earth. I was gasping that whole time, truly being sent into the moment. Movies and media rarely do that to me in the emotional sense.

AND AS FOR SHADOW AND MARIA

Holy fuck at least I was right about that part in my pre-movie wishes. I thought it was interesting how they adapted it, and it definitely made for it to be slightly more believable and less complicated.

But oh my gosh them. Skating around the lab, messing around together, introducing Shadow to that great 70s music and dancing, watching movies together and just being kids!! And don’t even get me started on the rooftop scene. Shadow was so vulnerable and self-conscious, and Maria comforted him in a way that touched me. Understands him in a way that no one else ever has, as everyone else only saw him as the experiment and the subject, while she saw him as his own person, with thoughts and emotions and curiosities.

It paralleled Sonic and Tom in the cinematography too, and the sentiment was all the same. That Shadow can choose who he wants to be. (I Am All I Am and Choice. Trust, it’s coming soon)

Maria and Shadow made me unbearably happy. It was all I could’ve ever asked for and more.

Shadow and Sonic were an absolutely crazy duo this show. Dude, in their fight versus each other? Both going Super and absolutely going at it, and Shadow having the absolute gall to accuse Sonic of not caring about his friends, that he was clearly here alone because he abandoned them, and mention Tom, which caused Sonic to go completely over the edge, and actually punch him straight into space and lose his Super.

Sonic and Shadow reconciling over their shared feeling of grief, Sonic sharing his pain, emphasizing the love that will be able to help them heal, Shadow reciprocating, and then Shadow remembering Maria after looking up at the stars, realizing, from Sonic’s words, that this truly wasn’t what Maria wanted, just that whole moon scene between them is living in my head rent free and I need to see it over and over again.

HOLYYY SHIT THEY PLAYED LIVE AND LEARN WHEN SUPER SONIC AND SUPER SHADOW TEAMED UP AND BEAT THE EVER LIVING FUCK OUT OF THOSE ROBOTS. Me and my friends were going so fucking insane in that theater.

Shadow remembering Maria (possibly for the last time) as he sacrifices himself to push the Eclipse cannon away from the place that Maria loved. Remembering all of the good moments, the love between them, that is all he wanted if he was going to leave the world for good. (Well, I mean, he’s still alive, but the amnesia route is still optional)

Sonic actually going slightly insane this movie was also very interesting to watch. His absolute- like, his vision went RED when Shadow mentioned Tom. That was what set him OFFFF. His abuse of the Master Emerald and even threatening his own best friends/siblings over this— god the emphasis of choice in this film I want to sob.

Also, yall already KNOW I WAS BALLING ABOUT THE AKIRA SLIDE, SNAPCUBE REFERENCES, AND EVERY TIME SHADOW BREATHED OR MOVED. Literally could not contain myself from absolutely sob-cry-screaming at Shadow and (Keanu did a great job btw) his entire story, his joy with Maria and his pain all after. (His Super form looked fuck beautiful, a new colorful hue every time I saw it)

All in all, Robotniks were hilarious, Maria and Shadow were beautifully tragic and just generally so so SO adorable and loving. I’m so glad that Tails and Knuckles got more serious appreciation and screen time this movie as well, because as much as Sonic, Tails, and Knuckles were sidelined in this movie (to put forth Robotniks and Shadow, understandably so), it still felt more fulfilling and real than in the second movie. Super forms continue to be beautiful onscreen, I would like to collapse and die from hearing ONE OK ROCK and Live and Learn.

AHEM. Now, clearly, I will be making a separate post solely about Stobotnik. Along with the multiple Stone-centric fics burning a hole in my brain and the choice and grief analyses awaiting my attention. Bear with me as I have SO MANY THOUGHTS.

We won. . . but at what cost.

My friends, my partner, you already know. We died and were promptly revived together in that theater.

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limeekak · 3 days ago

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HELLOO TDP NATION I watched the season as soon as it premiered (it was 5am HELP) and now that things have become clearer, I want to comment on things I liked about this season!!

SPOILER ALERT !!

first of all, I want to start by saying that something I noticed was that the characters' interactions seemed more alive (I don't know how to explain it LMAO). Their interactions were perfect and the voices gave it so much life, I loved it so much!!

and starting from the beginning... THIS SCENE

Their reunion was BEAUTIFUL, it was EMOTIONAL and their voices, so confused and weak, were heartbreaking

i felt them, I was sad with them, I was truly moved. they deserve so much more :(

ezran, definitely my favorite character this season. His anger and frustration was so well done and evident, he seemed so upset with callum

I liked the way they did it, even making impulsive decisions like pushing Zym and want to go after finding Sol Regem

I liked how we still saw a "child" in him at the end of it all

I loved that we had more terry this season. It made sense to me that he went another way, but still tried to bring her back (what went wrong, what made this situation sad for me)

his interactions with soren were so fun!! and i would like to see more of them together and also soren, corvus and him, I would love to see this trio in arc 3! ANND also terry and ezran, I think they would have a cool friendship :)

terry is a very nice and sweet guy, i want more of him!!

NOW LETS TALK ABOUT SORVUS HEYWHEUW 👹👹👹👹 (sorry my demons

WHY DO THEY NEED TO BE SO SWEET AND PRECIOUS, damn, I envy their relationship (they have a relationship I swear, Harrow flew by here at my house and told me-) you can clearly see how much they care for each other, how CORVUS cares so much about soren, he is always there supporting him, I think that is BEAUTIFUL

from the moment of this scene I saw, thought and KNEW that corvus knew that soren kept that photo in his armor. I'm sure they know almost everything about each other

and let's talk about the beautiful reunion of ethari and runaan :))

I found it so funny runaan desperate to see ethari, the guy was crazy LMAO

I don't know if it was a reference to httyd, but the whole scene was so beautiful :) I didn't know I needed their reunion until Ihad their reunion

his and callum's dynamic also seemed really fun. runaan's personality was really something for me hejehehe

And that's it for now, I definitely had a lot of fun watching this season! Of course, there were things that bothered us but we shouldn't focus only on those things

let's talk about what we liked the most and promote the series as much as possible so that we can have arc 3!!

we can use this link to request all 3 seasons directly from netflix! let's make some noise on social media, arts, rewatch and recommend to friends so we can get arc 3!! love you all <3

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the-clumsywitchtarot · 10 hours ago

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What Kind of Relationship Will You Have with Your Future In-Laws? Pick-a-Card Reading

Because theoretically you're marrying the whole family.

Cards

Queen of Pentacles (Reversed)

3 of Swords

7 of Pentacles

Right off the bat I am getting that your future mother-in-law does not like you, like at all 😬. Luckily I don't see this influencing your future spoues's decision on whether or not to be with you but I do feel like this is something very important to you. You could be someone that has always wanted to have a super close relationship with your in-laws. Like you're just another kid in the family, I can see you being one of those people that wants to go to brunch with his mother and sisters or have shopping dates with his mother and aunt. I feel like they are a close family but that you just don't quite mesh with them (outside of your spouse). I don't see their siblings disliking you but I don't think they'll be going out of their way to deal with you. A scenario I see is them calling to talk with your future spouse and you walk into the room and your future spouse tells their sibling on the phone you just walked in. And instead of telling your future spouse they said hi to you, they end the call with something like "Okay, I'll let you go so you can talk to them." If you want any semblance of a relationship with his family you are going to have to work super hard and I still don't feel like it'll be enough. You may end up in a situation where it is going to just be you, your future spouse, and your children or pets. Like I said, I don't think their siblings will dislike you, they just won't necessarily see you as a part of the family, they will just see you as their siblings spouse.

Cards

9 of Pentacles (Reversed)

Six of Wands

The Lovers

I feel like the relationship with your in-laws will literally start from the first meeting you have with them. I can see this being a holiday dinner where your future husband takes you to meet his family. At first I think they'll just be nice but a little offstanding but they have met some girls in the past that they didn't care for or that just didn't fit their family dynamic. I feel like this is an incredibly close family, like when children are born into the family that child truly has a village full of love and support. As his family is talking to you and feeling you out they're going to start to realize they really like you! I feel like by the end of the dinner his parents are going to be pulling him aside and practically begging him to marry you. And you're future husband could be the type to want to take his time but his parents like you so much they'll basically be saying to him how much more time do you need, she's the one! So I actually feel like your in-laws will be a big part of the reason why your future husband realizes you're the one. I can also see them helping to prepare a big engagement!

I can also see his family cracking jokes like "I think we like her more than we like you." Or "Don't come back here unless you bring her with you."

Cards

The Hierophant

The Lovers (Reverse)

Knight of Pentacles (Reverse)

I feel like your relationship with your in-laws will be a cordial one, you aren't close but you don't dislike each other, the connection just exists because you married into the family. I don't think anyone in the family is particularly close though, they really only see each other for the holidays and special occasions and that's only out of obligation. I feel like this family is very into image and how others perceive them. But I don't see many pleasantries and heartfelt moments between you and anyone in his family. They seem kind of cold and uncaring.

Let me know what pile you chose and if it resonated!

- Erika, The Clumsy Witch

#tarot readers of tumblr #the clumsy witch #the clumsy witch tarot #tarot reader #black tarot readers #tarot #black witches of tumblr #pick a card #pick a card tarot #pick a card tarot reading #pick an image tarot reading #pick an image tarot

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leeknot · 1 day ago

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Hello i love your fics may I please have a request of skz ot7 jealous of jeongin girlfriend who's younger than jeongin and she's really smart and really beautiful but also an amazing loyal girlfriend to jeongin even though it's her first relationship and she takes care of all of them like always cooking and cleaning up after them and she is close to and has a bond with each of them and they each get a little possessive even though she isn't theirs and if you are comfortable make it a smutty and jeongin is fine with sharing

Eight Boys, One Girl

A/N : Haiii :3 Thank you so much for requesting this @babygirlskz98!! I'm really glad that you love my fics <33 I really had fun writing this and I hope it turned out the way you imagined it :))

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Pairing : skz OT8 × reader

Warnings : smut

MDNI

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Jeongin walked into the shared dorm room, his heart fluttering with excitement as he anticipated his girlfriend,Y/N's welcoming presence. At nineteen, she was his first love, and her beauty, intellect, and nurturing spirit never ceased to amaze him.

"Hey baby!" he heard her sweet voice call out from the kitchen. The rich aroma of homemade kimchi fried rice filled the air, making his stomach growl.

Jeongin grinned broadly as he sauntered into the kitchen, wrapping his arms around Y/N's petite waist from behind. She leaned into his embrace, a soft giggle escaping her lips as she continued stirring the fried rice.

"Mmm, it smells incredible in here." Jeongin praised, nuzzling his face into the crook of her neck. He loved how she always took care of them, cooking and cleaning without ever complaining.

As if on cue, the other Stray Kids members began filtering into the kitchen, drawn by the tantalizing aroma. Seungmin was the first to approach, his eyes lingering on Y/N with an unusual intensity. "Y/N-ah, you've outdone yourself again,"

Seungmin complemented, sneakily inching closer to her side. Hyunjin flashed a cheeky grin, playfully stealing a piece of fried rice straight from the pan. "Tastes even better than it smells!" he declared with gusto.

While they all gathered around the food, BangChan couldn't help but add, "No wonder we put up with living in such a messy dorm. At least we have a queen who keeps us fed and clean." He winked at Y/N, causing Jeongin to subtly tense up.

Lee Know, ever the observant one, noticed the flicker of jealousy in Jeongin's eyes. He decided to poke the bear, leaning against the counter beside Y/N and casually draping his arm around her shoulders. "Y/N's so smart too, you know." Lee Know remarked,

Jeongin felt a surge of possessiveness wash over him as Lee Know casually leaned in close to his girlfriend. His fists clenched at his sides, knuckles turning white. But before he could intervene, Felix sidled up to Y/N's other side, his golden eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Y/N, can I ask you a question?" Felix asked innocently, his eyes crinkling at the corners. Y/N turned to face him, only to find Felix's face inches from hers. "Who's your favorite member?"

The room fell silent as all the members awaited Y/N's answer. Jeongin's jaw clenched, his eyes darting between Felix and Y/N. Chan,Minho,Changbin,Hyunjin,Han,Jeongin and Seungmin all looked at her expectantly.

"Well..." Y/N smiled shyly, knowing she had them all in the palm of her hand. Her gaze slowly swept across each of their faces, leaving them on tenterhooks. Jeongin felt his heart skip a beat as she finally spoke "You know what?"

All the members leaned in closer, hanging on Y/N's every word. Her smile widened as she saw how desperately they wanted her favor. "Each of you is special to me in your own way," Y/N announced serenely, "So it's impossible to choose just one favorite. But,"

She paused for dramatic effect, the room holding its breath. "If I really had to pick, I suppose it would be... the one who's been the most protective and caring towards me." Y/N's gaze locked onto Jeongin's, a soft smile playing on her lips.

Jeongin's eyes widened momentarily as Y/N's praise washed over him, a mix of pride and relief washing through his veins. The tension visibly drained from his shoulders as he pulled her more firmly against his chest, basking in this public affirmation of her affection.

As Jeongin clung to Y/N possessively, the air in the kitchen seemed to thicken, charged with a sudden undercurrent of sensual tension. Hyunjin was the first to break the charged silence, his voice a low, playful rumble.

"You know, Y/N," Hyunjin purred, his eyes roaming over her possessively, "Jeongin might be your favorite, but what about the rest of us?" He waggled his eyebrows suggestively, causing the other six members to start closing in on Y/N.

Changbin stepped forward, his hand reaching out to stroke Y/N's hair, his warm fingers tangling in the soft strands. "We can't just let Jeongin have all the fun." he said with a smirk, his eyes flicking to Han, who was already undoing Y/N's shirt buttons.

As Han's cold hands pushed Y/N's shirt off her shoulders, revealing her bare collarbone, Felix stepped in, his lips finding the exposed skin and placing gentle kisses there. He looked up at Y/N with lust-filled eyes, "She always smells so good..."

Y/N's breath caught in her throat as all 8 men surrounded her, their touches gentle yet possessive. Her cheeks flushed red as she whispered, "Are we really..." Her voice trailed off, a mix of excitement and nerves evident in her tone. "All of you?"

"Every. Last. One." Chan growled playfully, his large hands gripping your hips and pulling you flush against him. You could feel the evidence of his arousal pressing insistently against your thigh, sending sparks of excitement through your body.

Hyunjin slid behind Y/N, his hands cupping her breasts as he murmured huskily in her ear. "Don't worry, we'll take good care of you." Changbin knelt, hands stroking up her thighs while peering at her under hooded lids.

Seungmin, watching the escalating lust with glittering eyes, reached out and began slowly stroking Y/N's hair, tilting her head back. "Just relax and let us worship you." he breathed, leaning down to capture her lips in a deep, sensual kiss.

Jeongin, who had been quietly observing from the side, finally stepped forward. His usually playful expression was replaced with a serious, almost predatory gaze. He slowly unbuttoned his own shirt, revealing his chiseled chest. "Turn around,"

"Turn around, precious," Jeongin commanded softly, his voice carrying an unexpected dominance. "I want you to see what you do to us... how badly we all want you." As Y/N slowly turned, he ran his fingertips down her spine, making her shiver.

All eight of them stood in a semicircle around Y/N, their eyes dark with desire as they slowly began removing their clothing, revealing perfect, toned bodies - each unique yet equally captivating. Jeongin's fingers continued tracing patterns on Y/N's back as he pressed closer.

Jeongin's warm breath tickled Y/N's neck as he whispered, "Now, sit on the bed." As Y/N sat, the other seven men slowly approached, surrounding her like predators. Chan knelt in front of her, his hands on her knees.

Chan slowly spread Y/N's thighs, revealing her to the hungry gaze of the seven men surrounding her. Hyunjin knelt beside Chan, his fingers tracing up Y/N's inner thigh. Seungmin stood behind her, his hands resting on her waist.

Minho stood on the other side of the bed, his eyes locked on Y/N's face as he stroked his hard length. Hyunjin, the tallest of the group, loomed over Y/N, his large hands resting on the bed on either side of her head.

Hyunjin leaned down, his face inches from Y/N's, his warm breath fanning over her lips as he spoke in a low, rumbling voice. "We're going to take you together, precious. Every inch of you, filled to the brim with our cocks."

Y/N's breath hitched at his words, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and nerves. Jeongin pulled back from the kiss, his eyes dark with desire. "And we're not going to be gentle." he murmured, his hand reaching out to tangle in her hair.

Y/N's breath hitched at his words, her heart racing with a mix of excitement and nerves. Jeongin pulled back from the kiss, his eyes dark with desire. "And we're not going to be gentle," he murmured, his hand reaching out to tangle in her hair.

With a firm tug, Jeongin pulled Y/N's head back, forcing her to look up at the eight men surrounding her. Chan and Felix both pushed two fingers inside her, stretching her tight pussy as Changbin notched the head of his thick cock against her entrance.

"We're going to fill every hole, precious," Changbin said, his voice low and husky as he began to slowly push inside her. Y/N gasped, her fingers digging into the sheets beneath her. Seungmin leaned down to capture one of her nipples in his mouth, sucking hard.

While Changbin established a steady rhythm, Felix replaced his fingers with his tongue, swirling around her sensitive clit. At the same time, Minho brought his cock to her lips. "Open up, love." he whispered, guiding himself between her lips as Hyunjin watched with heated eyes.

While Changbin continued setting a steady rhythm, Felix maintained his attention on her clit, earning whimpers from Y/N. Han and Seungmin kept their teasing ministrations on her breasts, while Minho gently thrust into her mouth. Jeongin, still holding her hair, whispered in her ear...

"- such a good girl, taking us all..." Jeongin's free hand trailed down to her throat, feeling the vibrations as Minho slowly fucked her mouth While Changbin established a steady pace, Felix's tongue and fingers expertly worked her clit and entrance. "Ready, precious?"

Changbin eased out of her pussy, making way for Felix who pressed his length against her entrance. "Don't worry, love, we'll take care of you." Felix whispered, slowly pushing in while Hyunjin repositioned himself between her thighs to replace Felix's tongue.

Y/N let out a muffled moan around Minho's cock as Felix bottomed out inside her. The feeling of being so full had her eyes rolling back. Seungmin and Han shifted, each lifting one of her legs over their shoulders, opening her up even more for the guys.

Hyunjin lapped at her inner thighs as Jeongin guided Minho's hand to her throat, allowing him to wrap his fingers gently around it. Changbin repositioned himself between her breasts, pressing them together around his length. "Look at me."

Y/N gazed up at Changbin with lust-darkened eyes as he slid his cock between her pressed-together breasts, grunting softly at the slick friction. Seungmin teased her nipple with his tongue while Han pinched the other, sending sparks of pleasure straight to her core.

The guys picked up their pace, fucking and sucking her relentlessly. Felix slammed into her g-spot, causing her to scream around Minho's cock. Changbin's thrusts became erratic as he neared his climax, his cock twitching between her breasts. "Fuck, I'm gonna-!"

Changbin roared, finding his release between her breasts as Felix and Seungmin found their release inside her and on her stomach. Hyunjin lapped up the combined releases as Han and Jeongin guided Minho to finish in her mouth, choking her slightly with his large release.

"Good girl." Minho praised as he pulled out, trailing a string of cum down her chin "Look how beautiful you are like this," Jeongin whispered, wiping the cum from her face gently "Are you okay, precious?" Felix checked in, kissing her temple sweetly.

"More than okay... though I might not be able to walk straight tomorrow," she managed a weak, satisfied smile, her body still trembling with aftershocks "Good," Chan chuckled, wiping cum from between her breasts "That means we did our job right."

The guys took turns holding and cuddling her, each marking her with their scents again. She fell asleep sandwiched between Felix and Jeongin, their arms wrapped around her protectively. As the sun rose, they all woke up entangled, smiling softly at each other.

"You know, I think we should talk," Felix suggested, sitting up and looking at the group huddled together "We're all obviously very close, and not just physically," He looked at Jeongin "Jeongin, you are her boyfriend, but now..."

Jeongin sighed and then smiled slightly, pulling Y/N closer to him. "It's okay, everyone. I've realized that what's most important is Y/N's happiness, and she clearly finds joy with all of you too. If that means sharing her, well..."

"We're all in this together now?" Han finished, looking around at the group with a hopeful expression. The other guys nodded in agreement, Seungmin speaking up. "We'll all be her boyfriends, officially. No more sneaking around or hiding our feelings."

Jeongin chuckled and then smiled warmly at Y/N. "I'm fine with it, as long as you're happy, my love. I'll just have to get used to sharing you with these idiots." He joked, playfully poking the others.

"Hehe, we'll all share her equally," Felix suggested, "No favoritism, no jealousy." Heungmin nodded in agreement, "And we'll all live together too, right?"

"I love you all so much," Y/N spoke softly, her voice still sleepy from the night's activities "I never intended for this to happen, but... I can't imagine being without any of you now. Are you sure you're all okay sharing?"

"More than okay," Jeongin replied, pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead. "We've talked about it, and we're all in agreement. We want to be with you, together. No more sneaking around or keeping secrets."

"Yeah, and if anyone has a problem with it, they can talk to us," Han added, his arm wrapping possessively around Y/N's waist. "You're ours now, officially. Our girlfriend, our everything."

And just like that, their unconventional relationship was official. Y/N was now the shared girlfriend of eight loving and possessive men, and they were her devoted boyfriends in every sense of the word.

---

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