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greetingfromthedead · 1 year ago

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Sanctuary (Knives x GN!Reader)

Plot: After finding yourself at Death's door you seek sanctuary from your longstanding foe Knives.

Series: Kiss With a Fist

Pairing: Knives x GN!Reader

Raiting: Teen and up

Tags: Angst, Hurt, Blood and Injury, Plant Reader, Winged Reader, Enemies to Lovers, Comfort, Protectiveness

Word count: 1.1k

Author's Note: According to the vote it looks like an enemies-to-lovers story with Knives is gonna be my next big project and this scene has been stuck in my head for a while now so have a sneaky little oneshot sneak peak.

Bloodsoaked wings flap in the dark night sky. Every stroke of them is painful and torturous, a reminder of what you have escaped. Just a little bit more until you reach safety. Is it safety or perhaps is it your doom? A feeling of unease creeps into your clouded mind, but this is the only place you can think of retreating to. The city lights far below twinkle, but to you, they are nothing but a blur through your tears. You must keep moving forward, determined to survive by any means necessary.

The strength is seeping out of your body quicker the closer to the building towering above the rest you get. The broken wings carry you to the domed roof, but there is no energy to land in any graceful manner. You crash onto the rough surface, feeling the last of your energy slip away. You tumble down, bloody fingers unable to grab hold, as you begin to lose consciousness. With a loud thud, you hit the balcony, your vision fading into black. You can just barely see the bloody smears you left on the windows and the emblems of July. Slowly, you close your eyes, trying to fight off the darkness. You wonder if he will find you before it's too late, or if this is the end of the line for you.

Knives is on his way back from meeting with the doctor. He is on the last leg of his plan, and his goals are within reach. Years of collecting Plants are coming to an end, and soon he will be able to get to his brother and set in motion the final stage of his plan. He can show no more mercy to the southern area; they may be under your pesky protection, but the time to play games is over. It's time to finish what he started and take back what is rightfully his. But it is yours too. It doesn't matter; you have made your choice. Now you have to face the consequences. Yet the thought stings something deep inside Knives, but he is unsure what or why. He has already shown you too much lenience in the decades leading up to this day; you are his enemy, no matter what you say. Anyone siding with humans shall die with them.

He is ripped from his thoughts by a loud crash echoing through the building. It comes from outside, and he is lost as to what could have caused such a ruckus. His analytical mind races through options as he heads to the exit nearest to the sound. Could it be one of The Beast's flying worms? No, they would know better than to disturb his peace. Anger and disgust twist his face as he is prepared to rip to shreds anyone and anything daring to set foot in his territory.

As he enters the atrium, he sees moonlight shining in through a sheen of red smeared all over one of the windows. He moves confidently closer to see something dark moving just outside the glass. It looks enormous, but he has no fear. He has nothing to be afraid of and is ready to face whatever lurks there. He pushes open the door and steps outside.

The sight is nothing like what he expected. The deck is covered in blood and feathers, and in the midst of it all is a figure so vaguely familiar. The back bears multiple pairs of wings, but some of them are nothing but bloody stumps; others are bent unnaturally in a way that makes his stomach turn. The feathers are sticky with blood and the figure's head is bowed in despair. He takes another step closer, and the mass shifts slightly, the gaze creeping up along his legs until they meet his eyes. Your face is bruised and battered; an iron shackle is around your neck, the chain of which is clattering against the floor.

Anger rises in Knives stomach, boiling into his chest and setting his icy eyes ablaze. He moves even closer to you, back straight and fists clenched. The sight enrages him and pulls him apart at the seams, unraveling his carefully crafted mask of indifference and calmness.

"Who did this to you?" He growls, voice low and dangerous. He reaches out his hand to your meek form and continues, unintended words slipping over his lips: "I will destroy them. There won't even be anything left of them once I am done."

Your hand grabs onto his forearm with more speed and strength than he thought was left in your body. Your desperate fingers are digging into his flesh. You hold on to your years long opponent with everything you've got. The man you've stared down across battle fields, the tyrant, who has been threatening to take the Plants from the towns and villages under your protection. The man you've despised in the past is now the only one you can turn to.

"No," you say resolutely, looking into his blue eyes. "Don't leave me. You're the only one I trust not to kill me."

He stands frozen for a moment as he looks at your face, tears streaming down your darkening face. He squats down and reaches behind your neck with his free hand that you aren't clinging on to. The weight is taken off your neck as the shackle falls to the ground with a loud clatter. His cool hand strokes over the reddened skin, soothing the burn caused by the iron. You lean into his touch, grateful for the relief.

You feel safe in the presence of your longstanding foe. It is a strange feeling, but you can't deny the comfort it brings. The feeling washes over you and settles into your bones. It sets your mind at ease, and you can no longer fend off the darkness. You succumb to the bliss, and your fingers loosen the grip on his arm as you can no longer support your body. Before you hit the hard concrete, he has stopped your fall, and he carefully turns you, mindful of the sprawled out wings. His eyes glide over your body, covered in wounds and bruises. His gut feels heavy with more than just boiling anger. A strange sickly feeling ties knots in his entrails, and he picks your limp form up off the floor. He is considerate of the open wounds and broken bones as he cradles you in his arms. He heads back inside, the bloody wings trailing on the floor, leaving a trail of blood and feathers.

"You're safe," Knives says in an icy tone as he carries you away.

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#trigun #trigun stampede #tristamp #fanfic #fanfiction #millions knives #x reader #knives x reader #was i supposed to do other things tonight? absolutely #kiss with a fist

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dirtwatchman · 3 days ago

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PARTIES: Hazel (@appalachiannightmare) and Caleb (@dirtwatchman) LOCATION: Eluria Cemetery TIMING: Mid-May CONTENT WARNINGS: Some limbs are lost... SUMMARY: Hazel reveals what she really is to Caleb, by accident of course.

Son of a biscuit? The hell- No! No time to worry about that.

It had been a minute since Hazel had seen Caleb. Ever since she had found a place of her own and moved out, life had just gotten busier, between working and somehow trying to stay out of trouble. She hadn’t even been in Wicked’s Rest a year and already, Hazel was finding this town hard to get used to. But her devil seemed to thrive. With the multitude of deaths, whether it be animals or humans, the berserker found food sources popping up left and right. While poor Hazel seemed to find herself keeping The Generic Store in business by the amount of soap and bleach she was purchasing weekly. Suspicious in any other town, but not so much here.

“I don’t get why people would constantly want to trash such a peaceful old cemetery.” As she picked up the remaining pieces of a headstone that had been destroyed, Hazel tossed them into the rubble pile. “Is there any way this can be stopped?” Her attention turned to Caleb. She respected what he did; taking care of the dead and all. It really took a special person, and she wasn’t sure she could do it, especially because though she didn’t have the full story most of the time, she was responsible for a lot of deaths. A thought that never really sat well with her, and something she mostly tried to push out of her mind for the fear of what kind of mental breakdown it would cause.

Moving to the next busted headstone, Hazel caught sight of the death date year, “Wow. This headstone is from the early 1900s. How do you even replace somethin’ this valuable? Let alone, remember who all these belong to?” It was a job she didn’t want to be responsible for, but she would help Caleb as best as she could. He was her first friend in Wicked’s Rest after all.

There was a question that Caleb kept having to ask himself; How was he supposed to grow thicker skin when people as soft as Hazel were part of his life? Or Jonas? Or Oliver? It was something that kept plaguing him over and over. The need for survival in the paranormal world, the need for a backbone, it all kept being outweighed by the need to hold on to the people he cared for. He didn’t know how to balance the two at all. Becoming cold while a friend wanted to help do a job that she didn’t have to help with? It didn’t go together too well but he couldn’t help saying yes when she had offered. The power imbalance of his two worlds shifted back to the ‘normal’ side the moment she reached out and picked up the first piece of broken headstone and Caleb found himself smiling softly at her words, retreating into the comfort ‘normal’ provided.

He needed to stop letting that happen. There was too much at stake - his business, his life…his battered heart.

It was too late to stop it that night, though, and so all he could do was let his world continue to shift back even if her statement did concern his other one. He knew why it kept happening. Caleb knew that Eluria was very popular among the undead and that all of this vandalism was a result of the fighting that came with that. Peaceful was not the right word to describe this place. Wasn’t like he could tell her that, though. “I couldn’t tell you why. I don’t think it’ll stop, unfortunately. From what I hear, this has been happening for a long time.”

Looking up from the wheelbarrow he was placing a few pieces in, he took in the old headstone, shaking his head at the thought of it all. “There are different ways to get them replaced but it all comes down to money and who was buried there. Because that stuff matters even in death, I guess.” Which…was so damn sad. “You know, you don’t have to help me with this. It’s a lot sometimes.” Not to mention, the cemetery wasn’t exactly safe. For all he knew there was a vampire watching them waiting for their moment to strike Hazel. Crazy to think that he assumed he was the only type of supernatural thing out there only a few short years ago and now he couldn’t seem to get away from it all.

Hazel continued to pick up the busted headstones as she listened to Caleb speak. It was sad to think that people didn’t care about the resting place of the dead or how a piece of etched stone was the only thing that a lot of these people had left to remind the ever changing world that they had once existed. How many people still spoke of memories about Little Johnny or Mrs. Davis? Or had they just become another casualty to time moving on? Hazel feared that’s what she would become, or, in the case of her life back in Tennessee, had already become. Did anyone really care that she was gone? It made her sad thinking about it. And with a slow, deep sigh, trying to catch herself before the tears set in, she put her sight back on Caleb, “Well, I think what you’re doin’ is admirable. You’re allowin’ the memory of these people to live on, even if just by a headstone being replaced. I hope that when I’m dead and buried, if somethin’ happens to my final restin’ place, there will be someone like you to take good care of it.”

She stepped over and tossed another chunk of rock into the wheelbarrow, “Sometimes I think money is the devil’s work. Barterin’ is one thing, but overchargin’ at the expense of someone’s grief or even their demise is another. That’s just my opinion though.” Hazel had a lot of opinions, she just usually never spoke up about them. But Caleb, she was comfortable around, because he had been one of the first people she had met in Wicked’s Rest. Someone who gave her a chance to get her bearings before going off in the world to live on her own again, so speaking her mind and being honest about certain things, she hadn’t minded as much.

“I want to. You helped me out when I really needed it, so I’m here to help you out. That’s what friends do, right?” She shot him a quick smile as she grabbed more random pieces of headstone, “‘Sides, I ain’t got nothin’ better to do today. And I already finished my shift at Video Vault. Beats goin’ back home to an empty cabin.”

“I think you’re giving me more credit than I deserve.” Because this was his job. He wasn’t the one paying to have these things replaced. In fact, there were more than a few places in the cemetery where there were no funds to actually replace the stones. They were nothing more than jagged pieces sanded down to not stick out of the ground too much. The ones he’d had to gloss over like that while he worked there were on a list he was keeping up with, the names of the dead on each location, but Caleb was hardly the saint she was making him out to be. “If it wasn’t me doing it, it would be someone else. It’s a big place with a few different caretakers.” She was far kinder than was comfortable for him. Even with people like his niece in his life he’d gotten to a point where his comfort came from within the anger and intolerance of others. It was what he knew and what he was trying to learn to navigate.

Navigating kindness? It was getting more and more difficult. But he couldn’t help the silent appreciation he held for people who showed it.

His lips lifted softly, Caleb’s views on money and greed were plentiful but he couldn’t say much for a guy who was charging to feed the undead. “I think those opinions are something that most could agree on. Anyone who doesn’t have tons of money anyway.” Which was the majority of the world.

‘That’s what friends do, right?’ He looked up at that while crouching next to the largest piece of stone on the ground. Looking up at her, he was silent for a minute, his thoughts hanging on the word ‘friend.’ It wasn’t that he didn’t think they were friends, it was more the fact that he thought she deserved better. He might have helped her in the beginning, sure, but there were so many things about him that would end up pushing her away in the end. Was the pain of that worth it? He wasn’t sure anymore.

Deciding to ignore the words, he started to lift the piece of rock, his words strained as he replied. “You could go out and have fun.” Rich, coming from him. “I hear there’s a few clubs that are nice around here.”

“No, I think I’m givin’ you the right credit you deserve. Ain’t nobody else out here pickin’ up pieces of somebody else’s life tryin’ to keep things lookin’ decent. Take a little pride in yourself, Caleb. You’re a good guy.” Hazel didn’t know everything about Caleb’s life. In fact, she barely knew the man, but from just the few months she had spent living with him and getting to know him better, it seemed like he genuinely cared for people. And not once did she ever feel unsafe, but also Hazel rarely felt unsafe. In fact, she was usually more concerned for the people around her than she was for her own well being. Her devil made sure of that.

Hazel grabbed a few more jagged pieces and tossed them in the wheelbarrow, before wiping the sweat off of her brow and moving to a nearby tree to lean up against it. While she had been impossibly strong when her devil came out to play, most days she was constantly reminded of how skinny and scrawny she really was, but she did have some muscles and she made sure to flex what she had, “First off, Caleb Ellsworth, you know I don’t go clubin’. Ain’t never stepped foot in one, and ain’t about to. And second, who said this hangin’ out with my best friend ain’t fun? Hard work, yes. Not fun? No.” She narrowed her eyes and glared at him for two seconds to let him know she wasn’t playing, before her expression loosened up, “And hey, maybe we can go get an ice cream or somethin’ after all this hard work. Your treat.” Hazel let out a laugh as she let her body slide down the tree into a sitting position; her legs pulled in close to give him room to keep working.

He was just staring at her again, a little taken aback by how assertive she was being. His tongue was poised to argue but Caleb stopped himself when he realized that she wasn’t going to let him do so. She would just come back with more reasons as to why he was a good man and he would get more and more uncomfortable. Eventually it would lead to him blurting out that he was a murderer and it probably wouldn’t end well. So instead he just nodded his head at her. “Heard you, loud and bright.” Would he actually gain a little pride? Probably not. But at least he could move on and not feel like he wanted to bury himself under one of the headstones.

Now they were ‘best friends?’ Hearing that, Caleb promptly dropped the heavy stone right on top of his foot. He had the good sense to grimace at the slight shock of pain but not as much as a man should have with that much weight coming down on his toes. God, he wouldn’t be surprised if one popped off. But he was too busy trying to process the words again. He felt like that video of a woman trying to calculate things going through the timeline of their friendship and wondering how that had happened. Again, the zombie wasn’t against it, he just hadn’t realized she felt like he was worthy enough to be called that.

He supposed he did give her a place to stay. And yea, they hung out frequently even if it was crap like this. Okay, so maybe it wasn’t so far-fetched. Bending down to pick up the rock again, he nodded at her. “Yea, I’ll get you some ice cream. I know a good place for it.” He was finally able to toss the thing in the wheelbarrow and wipe his hands on his jeans, turning to face her again until he spotted something in the near distance; something that was coming straight towards them. Fast.

“Hazel, get up now.” It was the most forceful he had ever been with anyone. His voice cut through the night air, Caleb moving towards her as he looked back at the approaching figure. It almost looked like a dog from there but the way it was running meant it was anything but. “I need you to run, don’t worry about me, just go.” Because there was no way they were both outrunning it and he wasn’t letting it get to her if he could help it.

The day Hazel met Caleb was the day things had started to feel right. It was like the universe was telling her this is where she needed to be. That there was someone here who was willing to accept her and be her friend. And while Hazel had sometimes found that in the other places she had traveled, things here had just genuinely felt different. Granted Caleb didn’t exactly know what Hazel was or that she was harboring something evil inside of her often made her wonder if he would still want to be her friend or accept her was a question she often asked herself, but as of right now, she was going to ride with the fact that she had actually found someone again who wanted to be around her and wasn’t afraid of her.

“Oh son of a biscuit, that looked like it hurt! Are you okay?” She had watched as the slab of stone had fallen right on top of his foot knowing it had to have done some damage, but before she could shift her weight and get back up, he seemed to be going about his business even talking about getting her ice cream. Must not’ve hurt as bad as I thought.

Brushing it off, she leaned back against the tree getting settled again noticing that the sun had already set without her realizing it, “Wow. A hard day's work can really distract a girl. I didn’t even notice the sun had set.” A cool breeze through the trees and headstones caused Hazel to shiver slightly despite her body temperature usually running higher than normal as the scent of something rotten drifted up her nose, “You smell that.” Before she could get another word out, she heard Caleb’s sharp warning to get up off the ground, and without hesitating, Hazel scrambled to her feet and turned around to see the dead creature running towards them, “Oh c’mon. What in the holy buckets is this? Can’t I ever catch a damn break in this town?!”

Her eyes shifting between Caleb and the monster coming at them, she grabbed Caleb by the arm, “If I’m runnin’, you’re runnin’!”

Son of a biscuit? The hell- No! No time to worry about that. There was a monster to outrun and Hazel apparently wasn’t going to leave him behind. “Dammit, Hazel. You have to go.” But Caleb started to run with her instead of staying behind, the dog-like creature not far behind them. If it caught up, which it most definitely would, he would just do what needed to be done in the moment.

Another problem? Where the hell were they supposed to go? The crypt was too far away and his truck wouldn’t hold this monster back. His brain was trying to work overtime as he mapped out the cemetery in his head which left his common sense to suffer. Caleb tripped over one of the headstones, his gangly body toppling and rolling a little way away from the bastard stone. At least that one didn’t break though. He wouldn’t have to worry about-

Spoke too soon. The creature that was after them ran straight into the stone and pretty much obliterated it in its quest to get to the zombie. Its attention was solely on him, that much was clear as it slowed its movements and stalked his way. “Hazel, just go! I’ll be fine.”

The first thing he really noticed was this creature was definitely not a dog. It mostly used its hind legs, had the head of a human, but that was the only trait they shared. It was ugly, with little spikes running down its body, and it seemed to have a taste for him. He probably wouldn’t be fine. But it didn’t want Hazel. She had a chance to get away from this. “Just go!”

Hazel took off running after Caleb. Whatever this thing was, it was determined to get them. Determined to make them a meal. Determined to…As soon as Hazel saw Caleb hit the tombstone, she cringed. Now, that really had to hurt! But she also realized that whatever this ugly shriveled looking barnacle licker was, it wasn’t actually after her. No, it had its dark eyes set on Caleb. Her friend. And she couldn’t have that.

Stopping mid run, Hazel bent over straining to catch her breath. She knew that just as a simple human alone, she wasn’t going to be able to help him. To stop whatever this thing was. Which, why was it solely after him? It was a question for later, but it did seem to linger in the back of her mind. “Okay, devil. Our friend needs our help. As much as I don’t want to do this right now and possibly lose his friendship. I’d rather lose it from a living person than a dead one.” Oh, the irony in the statement she had just made.

“Hey, you crusty lookin’ piece of shit! Over here!!!” Hazel started to jump up and down and wave her arms to get its attention, but it wasn’t working. “Plan B it is.” Grabbing a piece of yet another broken headstone, Hazel chucked it hard at the humanoid monster; her aim hitting it square in the back of the head. And as soon as it did, its eerie gaze turned onto her, “Well devil. It’s now or never.”

Hazel could feel her heart picking up and suddenly the all too familiar ringing in her ears began when the shift started to happen. Chest heaving up and down, the young woman collapsed to her knees on the verge of passing out, and as she did a loud and shrill cry released from her throat as the devil inside of her took control. Bones breaking. Head twisting in unnatural ways and grotesque images of fur, fangs, and claws coming out while unneeded bits of flesh shed from her body. And within a matter of minutes, Hazel, once a scrawny twenty-three year old now stood as a towering wolf looming over Caleb, the headstones, and the monster that was trying to kill her friend.

“Hazel stop!” She was going to get hurt. Sure, the monster’s focus was on Caleb and didn’t seem to sway even as she called out to it but eventually it was going to get tired of ignoring her. Probably after it ate him. Its razor sharp teeth were about to sink into his flesh when something hit the back of the thing's head causing both him and the monster to look her way. Her words didn’t make any sense. What devil was she talking about? Why was she just standing there?

When he got his answer he wanted to take the questions back. He watched as his friend transformed, mutating into something he had never seen before. “There are werewolves too…?” He should have known, right? When there were vampires there were always werewolves. Besides, he knew other types of shifters, this just made so much sense.

What didn’t make sense was one of the kindest people he knew actually being one. Any lore he had ever seen, which was mostly tv or books, had always made it seem like wolves had bad tempers. But she was too sweet, too kind, and now she was a monster in her own right.

The monster standing over him was distracted enough that Caleb was able to kick it away from him. He scrambled back, finally getting back on his feet, but what was he supposed to do next? Hiding behind what Hazel had become felt too cowardly, even for him. So, when he spotted the rock she had thrown he dove for it and chucked it back behind him…only to hit the werewolf instead. “Fuck! Can’t I do anything right?”

The berserker bared her fangs snarling at the monster looming near Caleb and started to lower her body ready to pounce on it. Her target was clear. It was the thing that was threatening Caleb. The ugly grayish ghoul that was close to turning its attention back on her friend and taking a bite out of him, and she was ready to rip its head off. That is, until she felt the chunk of broken headstone hit her in the snout.

Growing quiet and standing there somewhat stunned, it took a moment for the berserker to realize what had happened, and when she did, she shifted her glowing red eyes from the ghoul to Caleb. Now, she had two targets. The ghoul AND Caleb. And the lingering feeling of the hard stone on her snout only further angered her leaving a low growl coming from her throat. The question was…which one did she want to take out first? But her answer came quickly when she felt a sudden swipe of sharp claws tearing through the fur and flesh on her leg.

Crimson eyes moving from Caleb, Hazel looked down at the ghoul and without hesitating, opened up her wide maw and chomped down on the monster's head and shoulders before she violently started shaking it and chewing on it like a chew toy. And when she had finished playing with it, she tossed the headless thing off to the side and put her laser sharp focus on Caleb as if something deep inside of her was stressing him to run.

He did not like the attention that the wolf had placed on him. It looked like he had pissed Hazel off with his bad aim and he cursed again under his breath. Now there were two things that wanted to kill him, huh? Caleb quickly considered whether he needed to say goodbye to anyone but he didn’t really have time for that, did he? No, he was about to be eaten by something and it would be too quick for a phone call. Maybe a text? He was a slow typer though. He’d hate to get half a message written only for him to be ripped apart before he could hit send.

He was pulled from his thoughts by a weird sound, the zombie looking up just in time to watch Hazel shake whatever it was that was trying to hurt them like it was nothing to her. “Holy…” This was almost incredible to watch. He would have been amazed if he wasn’t so scared out of his damn mind especially now that the other thing was dead and he had missed his opportunity to get the hell out of there.

Now Hazel’s red eyes were back on him and he got the feeling that she wasn’t quite done playing with her food. “Oh…here we go.” Quickly getting to his feet again, he turned and started sprinting back towards the direction they had just come from. “I’m sorry!” He called over his shoulder, still running full speed. His long legs were the only reason he hadn’t been caught yet but she was right on his heel. He could feel Hazel’s hot breath against his back, baring down on him, and he quickly veered left. “Hazel! It’s fucking me, stop! I am not your dinner!”

Hazel easily took off running after Caleb when he had finally decided to run. She had loved a good game of berserker and mouse, and knew that when she finally caught her kill, it was going to be well worth it. Long gangly legs to swing him around by. A cute little head to lick before gnawing on it. And boney arms to chew on for the final course. Speaking of arms…the way they had swung back and forth had her lunging ever so often trying to catch one. But just as she would nearly snip one with her snout, it would move forward again causing anger to spike through her massive body.

The brief consideration to pounce on him quickly crossed her mind, and she was just about ready to, but something stopped her in her tracks, because heading straight towards them were more of the ugly looking grayish ghouls ready to avenge their fallen comrade that had become Hazel’s meal earlier. And though her target still remained on Caleb, the familiar sight of what she had just taken out for scratching her meant four more had been added to the meal plan.

If he had to breathe, Caleb would have been a dead man. Like, an actual dead one that would never be able to run again. He’d never been a runner before. Every time he had tried something that was cardio related he’d always gotten too many of those stupid stitches in his sides and given up after his first go. And whenever he had run from things? It was a good thing he had long legs or else he never would have gotten away before.

But this? Running from a wolf that was behind him only to come up on more things that wanted to kill him? He wasn’t sure how he was going to get out of this. The only thing he could think of was those comical cartoons or bad tv where they made both enemies run into each other somehow and he felt like that was the only way to go here. It was a split second decision to keep running towards the other ugly ass monsters coming towards him and he could only hope that he could time it just right.

Just before he was close enough for the closest ugly thing to reach out and snap at him, he took a sharp turn, sliding in the soft grass but able to keep upright long enough to veer out of the way. He kept going, not bothering to look back to see if his plan to distract one with the other had worked, knowing that if it hadn’t and he took the time to check on it he would end up as their food. It wasn’t until he heard the sounds of fighting behind him that he slowed enough to turn and look.

The attention of the other four things was still on him but they were delayed. Not able to turn in time to go after him, they had all run into each other, the zombie marveling at how that had somehow worked. He was ready to celebrate, to throw his arms in the air, when he realized that only one was waving around in victory. The other? Missing in action. “Fuck!”

Success! Despite the distraction of the other things coming towards them, Hazel had managed to catch an arm, and when it was locked in her teeth, she yanked hard and fast. But only in the knick of time as Caleb somehow managed to veer off in the other direction. But her little treat would have to wait, because before she could lay down and enjoy her new fleshy chew toy, she was being bombarded by more of the ugly gray monsters left to face them on her own.

The fight was a rough one, and though she was determined to hang onto Caleb’s arm, she tossed it to the side for safekeeping and as a little treat to go back to when she was done. But the ghouls proved harder than she thought and as they scratched and clawed and she scratched and clawed, she let out a few yelps in the process for good measure to spite Caleb for leaving her to face these things on her own. Pain was nearly non-existent, but the berserker knew humans and the guilt they could feel, she was attached to one after all. But when all was said and done, Hazel had come out the victor, despite having to wrestle Caleb’s arm away from one of the final ghouls. But a job well done, meant a treat well done, and picking up the chew toy in her mouth, the overgrown dog happily trotted in Caleb’s direction despite not honing in on where he actually went.

It really was a sight to see. Caleb, with one arm, watching as Hazel chewed on the other before she was once again distracted by the nasty things that had joined their chase. The one good thing about that arm though? The four creatures were too distracted trying to get to it and leaving Caleb alone. It gave him the chance to slip away and try to hide behind one of the large crypts the cemetery held but it didn’t stop him from wincing every time he heard Hazel whimper. Cowering away behind stone as he let the huge wolf fight his battles didn’t quite sit right with him. Hazel was his friend after all and he should have been helping her. But what happens when the friend you try to help turns on you and makes your arm a chew toy?

Before he could decide to stupidly walk out there in the middle of the fight the noises died down. It got quiet for a second with Caleb trying to strain his ears…his ears that didn’t work too well. Not knowing what happened to Hazel, he peaked his head around the corner of the crypt and then looked up…and up…and up until he was looking up into the face of a wolf. His arm was between her teeth but she luckily looked content enough with just that. “...Hi Hazel. I want to say it’s good to see you…is it good to see you?”

Hazel was proud of her work. She defeated ugly ass monsters and had a reward to show for it. The only tinge of a threat she felt briefly spiked when she saw Caleb right in her face, but the berserker knew he meant no harm. She could sense it, and if he did, she’d rip his other arm off and then his head and two legs. It’d be an entire feast. Instead, she snorted a breathy snort sending hot air blowing straight into his face and resumed chewing on the arm placed delicately between her two front paws. The meat was a little tough and rancid, but it didn’t matter. It was still chewy and entertaining.

However, she had found herself slightly whimpering as a chill rushed over her body causing her to shiver, before resuming her light snack of arm jerky. Whatever those things were, their scratches had a bit of a kick, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t handle. And when she finished her treat, she laid her big furry head down on her two front paws and closed her eyes knowing that the shift would soon happen again leaving human Hazel in berserker Hazel’s big furry place.

Despite the giant animal chewing on his arm right in front of him, Caleb didn’t feel like she was a threat anymore. Something had shifted in the time between her chasing him down and then taking out the hideous monsters. Maybe she felt like they were allies now or maybe she was biding her time but he did know one thing; Hazel would never have ripped his arm off on purpose. The zombie couldn’t blame her though. He understood not being able to control his own actions when his other side took over, a side of himself that was sure to make an appearance if he didn’t eat something soon. Healing always took a lot out of him. He’d never actually had to grow back something as large as an arm before but he assumed the recent meal he’d had wouldn’t be enough to keep him from fading into the monster.

Which meant he needed to leave her there. If he stayed and things went bad he was afraid of what would happen. Clearly she could take care of herself but it only took one bite or deep scratch for him to change the course of her life forever. “Hazel?” Caleb was cautious as he spoke up, not wanting to spook her but her attention was needed. His only hand left came up slowly to slightly graze her fur. “I have to leave. If I don't, something is going to happen that one of us isn’t going to survive.” His money was on him. “I didn’t want you to think I was leaving you alone for no good reason. I’m not scared of you.” Okay, maybe he was a little bit scared of her but he wasn’t going to say that with her sitting right there.

Again, he was cautious with his movements as he stood up to leave. It looked like the wolf was already asleep anyway, not really caring what he did as long as he wasn’t a threat. “We have a lot to talk about when we see each other again.” Taking one last look around the cemetery to make sure there were no more of those monsters coming (as if he had done anything to help when they were chasing both of them), he turned and hurried away from the wolf, hoping she would keep enjoying the gift of his own flesh.

#Threads #Thread: Hazel #Doggie Want a Bone?

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yourlocaltreesimp · 2 years ago

Text

Falling for you, a little too literally

SS!Link x Reader

TW: Attempted suicide, suicidal thoughts, implied SH, Hurt/Comfort, Everyone lives, soulmate AU if you squint.

Hope y’all enjoy, let me know what y’all wanna next! Not beta read and i’ve been up for 18 hours 😙✌️

-🌲

It didn’t take a genius for someone to know something was up. Your best friend was missing, your other (definitely not romantically interested) best friend chased after her, and you were left alone. Normally, this wouldn’t bother you too much. Between all of your classes, working maintenance at the bazaar and every other little task of life, you get busy every now and then. You appreciated a little time alone every now and then especially when things got rough. But that’s not to say you didn’t miss Link nor Zelda. No. It was quiet cold nights like this things got bad. Skyloft is tiny, suffocating, even. Everyone breathing down your neck and all the eyes watching and all the expectations…. You were the equivalent of glass beneath someone’s boots. But this time, there was no one to pick up the shards left of you. No one to cradle the broken pieces and reassure you that it’d all be ok. No one to wrap up your wrists after you searched out the proof of your humanity, proof of you not being a monster despite feeling otherwise. No. Today you were alone. And you were yesterday and you would be tomorrow. You were honestly just tired. So many sympathetic stares and questions, so many people trying so hard to make you feel seen and yet they never listen when the words finally spill. They’d tell you they cared and yet they never acted like it when you were down to the wire. With a heavy sigh you pushed yourself off the floor of your dorm room.

It took roughly 10 minutes to see everything again, sneaking through the knight’s hall, your eyes lingering on Link’s door for half a second to long. You felt a tug dragging your heart downward, your mind starting its spiral again. You passed by everything you wanted to see one last time. The goddess statue, The bazaar, The main plaza, the lake before finally getting where you needed to go. The wind pushed you to the tombstone, you kicked it to the side and watched the tiny passage open. You fell through to the wooden platform below, leaving you alone at last. Truly alone. No one to stop you from leaving this time.

Link POV:

Battered and bruised he stumbled out of the temple, Eldin’s heat causing his caramel locks to stick to his forehead. Too late. He was too late. Too slow. Not enough. Never enough. He sighed, the image of you flicking through his mind. He hoped so badly he was enough for you. Sometimes it’s all that kept him going, those funny little memories. Cooking when you’d both missed dinner, flying around on your loftwings, sharing gifts on the winters solstice, all proof he was enough. That he was loved. He hoped you knew you were loved to. He hoped so much for you both, hoped even when you couldn’t. Hoped that there’d be brighter days for you both, hoped he could make it back to you alive. Hoped that one day your eyes would meet his with the same amount of adoration. Goddesses, He hoped.

Walking up to the stone carved loftwing, a breeze of wind sent him upward with his sailcloth. He extended his arms, letting the wind greet him before whistling for Crimson. But… something was off. Crimson lunged and dived erratically, never following his directions, something Link hadn’t seen before from his avian companion. So, with hesitance, He let Crimson fly. He would’ve been impressed at the speeds he managed to gain, Skyloft no longer a tiny dot in the sky, but a quickly approaching landmark. But his heart sank quickly from its place when he realised what it was that had Crimson riled up. His other half was falling and there would be not (f/c) loftwing to catch them.

You POV:

The wind felt nice brushing past your fingertips, a (f/c) feather loosely pinched between your forefinger and thumb. Your other half. You hoped they wouldn’t be lonely when you were gone. Ownerless Loftwings usually weren’t cared for as well, not fairing well without their beloved hylian. But maybe Link and Zelda would take care of them. Maybe. Your hair was in tangles as you finally met the clouds, finally dismissing your title as burden, finally freeing those around you from needing to worry. Your weight lurched upward, stomach twisting at the sudden deceleration. You hadn’t whistled for your loftwing? Why are you?- Your fingers were met with soft carmine down, your frame cradled between familiar arms.

“Link - I…” You were breathless, perhaps the air was thin or you were too flustered to speak. He was silent, One hand wrapping around your mid to pull you closer to his front as you flew. He navigated to the closest island, a small patch of dirt and grass, a little tree near its center. He offered a calloused hand after you landed. You didn’t look him in the eye as you dismounted the loftwing, to scared the shame his stare would bring you.

“(y/n)” His voice, you’d been longing to hear it for weeks. To soft and rhythmic, a song to your ears. But now, you felt ashamed for causing him such worry, even with all that’s happened with Zelda, you still managed to make yourself a nuiscence. His hands reached for yours, taking them ever so gently, as if cherishing them. You met his eyes, the color of storms, of the bold sky, your favorite color. He looked so tiered, freckled skin slightly sunburnt, hair tousled, eyes pooled with worry. But before you could find it in you to feel worse, he pulled you close. He hugged you so tightly, as if you’d run to fall again the second his grip faltered. He buried his face in your hair, kissing the crown of your head and keeping you there, not a single word said. And it was like all the pressure on you finally shattered, you sank into him, and let yourself break. He held you so carefully as you sobbed into his tunic. He whispered all sorts of comforting things into you ears, but you get a sense of pleading urgency within his voice you hadn’t caught before.

“Please don’t leave. Don’t go. I won’t need to long. I won’t be late to save you. I’ve got you, i’ll be here as long as you need. Sky or surface, i’d find you if it ment i could have you again.” His words were a quiet promise between the two of you as he pressed soft kisses to either side your temples, eyes searching your own. You guided one of his hands to your cheek, unable to stop yourself from its warmth. He was enamoured by your actions, letting you do as you pleased so long as you’d be happy. You pressed a small kiss to the inner of his wrist and were met with a small, albeit tired smile.

“If you fall, i’ll catch you. Just maybe not that literally next time”

You both laughed lightly, he’d always made things a little lighter. And with his goofy smile you couldn’t go without seeing, you finally gave in. He kept that same wobbly smile as your lips met, content to just have one another once again? even if the situation that led you here was difficult to navigate. You looked between your childhood friend, and his loftwing that had saved you when no one else even knew you had fallen. Perhaps it was your soul that had called out. Perhaps your other half had heard your souls last weeping cry and responded. But it didn’t matter when you had your hero to chase away the bad thoughts what led you to the ledge. Not a knight or the Hero. Your knight, Your Hero, Your Link.

#legend of zelda #link x reader #link x you #skyward link #skyward sword #hurt/comfort #x reader #y/n #fir’s library

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peachymilkandcream · 7 months ago

Text

Payment|Part 5|Mafia Levi x Evelyn

WARNINGS: noncon/dubcon, big age difference, kidnapping, slavery, violence, power imbalance, implied somnophilia, forced pregnancies, mind breaking, yandere behaviour, yandere themes, forced exhibitionism, sexual coercion, blackmail, etc.

===============================================

Over the course of a few days Evelyn saw little of her captor. Apparently his recent run in with Kenny had annoyed him to a point where he needed space. She had fucked up in getting the attention of another man. One who, according to Levi, didn't understand what was Levi's and what was free game.

"He's your uncle and you don't trust him?" She had foolishly asked.

"Of course not. He's still pissy that I was the one who brought our family notoriety and not him. He's the oldest member and yet I brought us out of the slums. He'd do anything to put me in my place so to speak."

The idea of what that would entail sent shivers down her spine.

"Good. You should be scared. It seems you have the habit of attracting the attention of some of the most dangerous men in the country."

Evelyn huddled under the covers, still watching Levi pack his briefcase. "Then are you sure it's a good idea to be gone today-?"

"No but I have no choice. One of my new clients won't buy unless they meet me in person. Some people have trust issues."

She bit back a remark about how she wouldn't trust Levi either, but that would lead to consequences.

"Just stay put in here and you should be fine. Don't cause me any problems."

Without so much as a backwards glance he leaves, resigning her to a day of staying by herself in this penthouse. With nothing to do but wait around until he came back. Rich people could be such assholes.

==============================================

As the long and boring day wore on, Evelyn just needed to get out. Lying in bed all day was doing nothing for her brain activity. She at least needed to walk around the apartment and hopefully do something to entertain her until Levi came back. Surely there was no harm in that.

Right?

While exploring, she took note of what kind of a person Levi was. The type to only have one room entirely decorated, one where he clearly met with his "influential people", as he called them. Probably to look like he was a man of the arts who had taste, and not some back alley thug who delighted in tormenting others.

It took a while. but she thought she had explored it all. Noting how the front door was of course locked and couldn't even be budged with all of her might and the help of a chair battering ram.

On her final try to get it open it was caught in mid air.

Evelyn spun and looked into the wrinkled face of the man from the party.

"Now what are you doing trying to escape the runt?"

Fear gripped her instantly, the way in which Levi spoke of Kenny sending shivers down her spine. Was any of it true? If it was, Levi wasn't here to protect her.

"Nothing to say huh. Shame. You're a pretty thing, it's too bad you're roped in with that shorty. Probably doesn't even give you a good time."

As he stepped forward, Evelyn inched back. Until her back hit the door.

"I feel sorry for you, I really do. Which is why I'm going to help you."

A chunk of fear fell away, replacing it with hope. "Really?"

"Of course I am. I can't very well allow a young lady like yourself to go her whole life pleasing such an irritable boy."

Tears of gratitude started to well up in her eyes. "Thank you so much- You don't understand how much this means to me."

He smirked. "Oh I think I do little lady."

With a sudden motion he grabs her arm, throwing her to the carpeted floor.

Evelyn tries to overcome the shock and begins to stand, stopping as the chair she had been previously using to make her escape is brought down her back. The broken wooden pole then used to pierce her leg's flesh, making her scream in agony as she felt the body on top of her.

Hurt and in a vulnerable position Evelyn still tries to fight back the roaming and bold hands grasping at whatever was in reach. The long shirt of Levi's pushed away as he teased her most sensitive spots.

"I wonder just how many vile things Levi's done to you. Just stop fighting and I'll let this one be enjoyable for you."

That doesn't stop her, she continues to fight as his long fingers pierce her core, trying to coat a reaction out of her. Words she had learned were useless in these situations, men like Kenny, like Levi, couldn't be reasoned or bargained with. Better to use your strength to fight back.

The firmness pressing into her rear sends her into more of a desperate fit. Sure, like Levi he was probably getting off to the struggle, but the alternative was to lie down and take it. And that, she would never do. No matter what happens, at least she can live with herself later and know she tried. She tried her best.

Just as she thinks is all over for her the door bursts open, and a gunshot rings out in the air.

At first she thought it was her, finally meeting a cruel end. That Kenny was going to get his final revenge by killing her the moment Levi stepped back in the door. But no, it was Kenny who screamed and rolled off of her, clutching his shoulder as blood oozed out of it.

Evelyn looked back up to Levi, a pissed and raging mess shooting daggers at his uncle as the two guards who Levi had brought with him held Kenny in place.

"You disgusting sack of shit. You'll pay for this. Pay for touching her. What kind of coward goes after another man's woman when he isn't around?"

Kenny smirks, still holding his wound. "I told you to keep an eye on your songbird Levi. Seems you still can't listen to me."

"Yeah." He nods to the men holding his uncle. "Take this filth out of here. He's making everything dirty."

"You're really going to kick out your own flesh and blood runt?"

"My conscience is clear. From now on, you'll no longer be associated with the Ackerman family. But because you're flesh and blood, I won't kill you this time. Simply because my mother would be pissed."

Kenny scoffs. "Kuchel really coming in to save me huh. I promise you runt, this won't be the last you see of me."

"I don't doubt it. But until then, take him out of my sight men. I can't bare to look at him any longer."

As he's dragged away part of Evelyn's unease settles. At the very least one of her problems was taken care of.

So why then did it feel like something terrible was on the horizon?

#break me slowly #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #levi x oc #levi ackerman #levi aot #levi x reader #yandere levi #yandere levi ackerman #yandere levi x reader #payment

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a-crumb-of-whump · 2 years ago

Text

Saved By A Killer #1: Just Two Months

Masterlist

Content: Rescue, morally dubious caretaker, stranger caretaker, death wish, begging, death (of a semi non-important character), blood, restraints, gags, grief, [non-sexual] nudity, platonic bathing, wounds/injuries, false accusations, caretaker isn't the best but he's trying.

over 5k words... oops.

He hadn’t heard it at first.

The sound was barely audible, muffled by the only locked door in the cabin that separated a supposed bedroom from the living area. Though, as Cohen started to get closer, it morphed into something resembling a gagged cry.

“Shit,” Cohen mumbled, reaching out to fumble with the door as he glanced back at his most recent target’s corpse, Lucas Wade. It lay sprawled out across the carpet, staining all its surroundings crimson with each passing second. “‘nother victim of yours, hm?”

The corpse said nothing in return, its dead gaze staring directly at him as he took a few small steps back and prepared to kick the door down himself. Usually he was smart enough to bring a lock pick or two, but it was becoming apparent to him now that he hadn’t been as prepared for this job as he thought.

It had to have been an old door with how little effort it took to kick inwards. The entire cabin was, now that Cohen thought about it. Chipped wood everywhere, broken floorboards and ones that caved inwards when stepped on, and there were even several crucial doors inside the house that didn’t lock or even fully close in general. Apparently this was one of the few doors that did work just fine, considering the state of everything.

At first, it almost seemed like the room was empty. Cohen took a moment to examine the blood stains on the walls and the floor, along with the shattered glass windows and the shards now scattered across the floor. Had they escaped somehow?

And then he heard it. The same muffled cry from before, only louder this time and longer in duration. Cohen turned his attention towards the bed that sat in the corner, eyebrows furrowing the moment he realised there was a bare foot sticking out from under it.

“That a corpse under there?”

Despite the obvious gag in their mouth, he was able to make out a sarcastic, gargled ‘yes’ that made him laugh. He knelt down beside the bed frame, taking a moment to tuck his knife away inside his back pocket before resting the side of his face on the floor.

“Well, aren’t you a sorry sight?” was all he could think to say.

This had to have been Lucas’ last captive. A young adult, barely looking over the age of twenty one, wrapped in barbed wire with a ball gag stuffed in his mouth. Either Lucas had hidden him beneath the bed or he’d managed to weasel his way underneath it himself. No matter who did it, there was no way to pull him out again without causing him an intense amount of pain.

So, he begrudgingly got back onto his feet and began to drag the frame out from its spot himself, revealing a little more of the captive’s battered body with each pull. Before too long he’d pushed the entire thing into the center of the room, giving him room to both see the state of the boy’s body and to get them both out of there when the time came.

As soon as he was able to, Cohen knelt down beside the victim once more and slid one of his hands beneath his head to lift it up. However, all his movement paused right as his fingers made contact with the metal.

“You’re not gonna bite me if I undo this for you, right?”

He received a frantic head shake, followed by more tears. Satisfied with the answer, Cohen undid the buckle at the back of his head, still supporting him as best he could with his other hand, and finally tugged the ball out of his drooling mouth.

The boy let out a small sob, still restrained by the barbed wire wrapped around his torso, hips and ankles. “You- you killed him? Is he finally gone? Please- please tell me he’s gone. ‘s been so many months, you don’t understand-”

“Hey, hush. It’s all over, yeah?” Cohen offered him a tight smile as he cupped the victim’s tear-stained face in his hands. “If you give me some time to cut this wire, I’ll even let you see for yourself. Y’can spit in his eye or whatever it is you wanna do.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” he babbled in between sobs, too caught up in his own relief to even notice that Cohen had begun to carefully untangle the lengthy bits of wire. It wasn’t even tied together by anything - the only thing that held it in place was the fact that each bit of barb had been pushed into his skin, preventing him from moving at all without experiencing a world of pain. “He kept pro-omising to kill me. He kept telling me that- that this was the last time I’d ever have to feel pain again ‘n’ then it would just- it’d keep on go-oing. Over ‘n’ over ‘n’ over again.”

Cohen gave him a sympathetic look. “That must have been hell for you, huh? What’s your name?”

“My- my name?” The boy paused for a moment to think about it, struggling to resist a wince as each barb of wire was individually plucked out of his skin over time. Although Cohen was attempting to make this as gentle as possible, there was absolutely no way to avoid causing him pain all together. “Elias, I think. ‘s been so- so long since anyone called me by my na-ame, you know? He- he always called me someth’n’ new every week until I- I didn’t r’lly know who I was an’more, b-but I never forgot my name. Not entirely.”

“That’s impressive. Stay still for me, yeah? Tryin’ to make this as painless as possible. Do you have any family or friends who could take you in if I took you back to the city?”

“I had my mom,” he managed to respond. Even Cohen could tell the fresh wave of tears that welled in his eyes were for her. “But she died a few months before I was taken. I ha-ave no one else.”

Shit. “Okay.” The man let out a tense sigh, attempting to create a picture in his head of the new living arrangements if he decided to take him home with him. It was beginning to seem like the most likely option. “Lemme think on it for a moment.”

“Ca-an you just kill me?” Elias begged as soon as the opportunity arose. “You- you can do that, right? I have no money to pay you with b-but- but… oh, I’m so tired of living. I just want it to be over. Please?”

Admittedly, Cohen considered the possibility. This was a young man who had no doubt been through and witnessed horrors that even he couldn’t comprehend, begging him to take his life. He understood, and in most cases, probably would have just done it.

But…

“I’ll tell you what,” he started, only pausing to set the first set of wire aside before beginning on the next one. “Let me take you home with me. I’ll make you a nice home-cooked meal, get you some clothes and tend to these wounds. You could even have a bath or a shower and wash the last of this place off you. Give it a go for, let’s say, two months. If we reach that day and you still find yourself wanting this, then I’ll do it. Promise.”

To say Elias looked devastated would have been a complete understatement. Whatever hope he had drained from his expression and he continued to cry, even louder than before.

“Ho-ow can I trust you’ll keep your promise?” he asked in between sobs. “Why can’t you just do it? I’m begging you, please! It’ll only take a minute or two!”

“I know. I know it’s selfish of me and I know there’s nothing I can do right now to make you feel better about the situation but I want you to at least have a go.”

Finally, the second piece of wire was off. This meant that Elias was able to move a little more with what little strength he had. Unsurprisingly, he used the opportunity to reach for the knife in Cohen’s back pocket, a frustrated scream emitting from the back of his throat when the man easily grabbed him by the wrist.

“What on earth was your plan there?” he shook his head, only releasing the boy’s wrist again to move himself down to his ankles. One more wire to go and he was free to move around as he pleased. “Look, I get it. I’m chronically suicidal, too, and you know what? It fucking sucks.”

“Please don’t follow that up by telling me there’s people out there who love me ‘n’ all that bullshit,” Elias mumbled as he wiped furiously at his eyes. “I’ve heard it all before ‘n’ I don’t believe it.”

Cohen snorted. “I don’t believe it, either.”

That got his attention. He slowly uncovered his eyes bit by bit, stifling another sob as he stared up at him from where he lay on the floor. “Why are you still alive, then?” he whispered hoarsely, the edge in his voice slowly replacing itself with genuine curiosity. “What is so good about this world that you decided to stay?”

“I honestly couldn’t tell you.” Cohen gave him a pursed-lipped smile and shrugged. “I don’t find joy in many things anymore - or, I guess I never really have. The only thing that’s ever made me feel like it might be worth living is making life for other people a little less sucky, hence my line of work. May not be the most morally sound way of doing things but it gets the job done.”

Elias’ eyes widened, not to Cohen’s surprise. “So- so, you kill people for a living?” he asked in disbelief. For a moment it looked as if he was going to blow up at him, but eventually the boy’s face broke out into an awe-filled grin. “That’s so fucking cool.”

A little while later, the last bit of wire finally came off. It’d taken fucking ages to get through but the look of unbridled relief on Elias’ face as he examined the open wounds that wrapped around his body was worth it, Cohen thought. He doubted he could even comprehend the amount of pain he’d been in, and would continue to be in for the next week or two at least.

“So,” he began as he stood up off the floor. Elias immediately looked up at him, his face still covered in silent tears as he expectantly waited for more words. “Do we have a deal, Elias?”

The sound of his own name caused the boy to tear up all over again, and despite his previous objections to the idea, he gave him a small nod. “Yes,” he whispered, obediently lifting his arms as soon as Cohen bent down to pick him up off the ground. “Only two months… I can do it.”

“That’s the spirit, and hey; my name is Cohen.”

“Cohen…” He let the word quietly roll off his tongue, resting his head on the man’s shoulder as the two finally left the bedroom. “I’ve been stuck in that room for weeks… ‘n’ it almost feels a little surreal that I get to finally leave. Is that-” Cohen felt him stiffen and glance over his shoulder at the dead body of his captor. “Holy shit. He’s really gone. You- you killed him.”

Cohen hummed. “Told you. Need anything before we go?”

“No.” Elias was quick to shake his head before letting it come to rest on him once more, clearly exhausted from the mere effort it took to hold his head up at all. “J’st wanna get outta here.”

Cohen’s car was hidden a little ways into the bush. The entire way, Elias clung to him like some sort of koala or sloth, desperate for any kind of contact. Although he didn’t dare say it out loud, the man was not afraid to acknowledge that the guy was absolutely covered in filth. It took a lot out of him to ignore how dirty he was becoming the longer he held onto him, and he made sure to put a towel down on the passenger’s seat of the car before setting him down, too.

“‘m sorry,” Elias whispered in reference to the fabric beneath him as soon as Cohen got into the driver’s side. “It’s been months since I last got to wash myself.”

“I can tell.” The man was quick to tilt his head and offer a crooked smile. “You don’t have to be sorry. Sometimes I’ll go several weeks without showering and I’ve got one available to me, so no need to be ashamed.”

The boy let his head come to rest against the window, his gaze still on Cohen as he weaved his way through the trees until the tires finally hit dirt. It made him feel a little uncomfortable, being watched so intently, and he made a conscious effort to focus solely on the road ahead of him rather than what was going on in the passenger’s seat.

It wasn’t until they were back on the main road less than five minutes later that Cohen allowed himself to relax completely. He took the opportunity to glance to his right, only to find Elias staring intently out the window. Thanks to his own reflection, it wasn’t hard to see the tears glistening in his eyes.

“You okay there?”

The boy sniffled. “You don’t know how long it’s been since I’ve seen the sky or- or the trees or anything even remotely resembling nature. I always took it for granted before everything that happened, but now I feel like I’ll ever get enough of it.”

Cohen couldn’t help but ask. “How long were you there for?”

“Nearly a year, I think. I- I was taken out of the house on occasions, but I always had to wear a blindfold or a bag over my head until we were at his client’s house. I assume it was so I never knew exactly where I was.”

“Forgive me for prying, but client? What did he do that warranted clients?”

The boy spoke through clenched teeth, clearly struggling to keep himself from breaking down all together again. “Clients were what he called the people who paid to have me for a certain period of time. Anywhere from fifteen minutes to several days - if they had enough money, I was theirs to abuse. The only rule was that they couldn’t kill me, and if I asked them to then they were within their right to punish me as they saw fit.”

Unable to find the right words, Cohen simply shook his head, fingers tightening around the steering wheel as the image involuntarily popped into his mind’s eye. A part of him wondered if he was doing the right thing in refusing his request to kill him then and there. He’d always been a firm believer that if someone wanted to die, it was only right that they got to make that choice, and yet the thought of giving in to Elias’ request before the guy got to experience life outside of captivity again just didn’t seem right.

Cohen had always been grateful to be living on the outskirts of the city. There were never hundreds of cars on the roads and the scenery was far better than any city had to offer. Not to mention the animals that came to visit each morning. If he woke up early enough, he could watch the sun rise and the deer grazing by the treeline opposite his house. Not a day passed by where he wasn’t happy with his current living circumstances, and he was admittedly rather excited to be showing it to someone he knew would appreciate it just as much as he did.

“I think you’ll enjoy it here,” he told him as he opened the passenger side door. Elias gave nothing but a small, tight smile, still clearly a little irritated by the fact that he was still here despite his earlier statements. Cohen was quick to scoop him up out of the car, one arm supporting his behind while the other hugged his shoulders to keep him close.

He was not surprised to feel the boy’s head come to rest on his chest almost immediately, followed by a low-sounding whine. “You must be exhausted,” he murmured in an attempt to empathise with him. “Why don’t I run you a warm bath and you can spend some time cleaning yourself while I make some food? Do you have a favourite meal?”

“...I always liked pasta, before?” Elias whispered, subconsciously fisting Cohen’s hoodie in his hands as the man struggled to unlock his front door. “If I could have anything I wanted in the world, it would be that.”

He almost looked relieved when Cohen smiled encouragingly down at him. Instead of putting him down on the couch, he made his way to the bedroom first and carefully set him down on the side closest to the door.

“I think I have some angel hair pasta that I can cook, for sure. That’s a great choice,” he praised. “What about clothing? Do you have any preferences there? I have a little bit of everything, so feel free to browse what’s available in the wardrobe while I get the water running.”

Elias nodded, though made no conscious effort to move. Instead, when Cohen came back from the bathroom a few minutes later he found that the guy had fallen asleep hugging a pillow to his chest, and a deep sigh escaped his lips as he wandered over to his wardrobe and picked out some clothes himself. He supposed Elias would be doing quite a bit of sleeping over the next few days. It was concerning to think about the last time he must have had a proper sleep without all the constant pain.

So, he waited until he had an outfit set up by the bathroom basin and a towel hung on a hook before waking the boy up again with a gentle nudge to his shoulder. It took a few tries but eventually his eyes started to flicker open, followed by a single terrified shriek that soon morphed into a sob when the man grabbed hold of his wrist to stop him from hitting anything.

“You’re okay. It’s just me,” he soothed, gently resting the guy’s hand back down on his stomach as soon as he knew it was over. “You fell asleep a few minutes ago, remember?”

Elias sniffled. “I- I guess so? You didn’t- I- I thought you were gonna… gonna hurt me. Di’nt mean t’ throw my fist at you.”

Really, it wasn’t as if he could have done much harm in the state he was in, though Cohen didn’t say that out loud. Instead, he lightly ruffled Elias’ hair a little before beginning to help him onto his feet, curious as to how he’d fare on his own. Surprisingly, between the two of them they were able to make it to the bathroom in less than a minute, and Elias gave a triumphant smile as soon as he was leaning against the sink.

“I- I’m not sure I can get in,” he admitted quietly after some time spent examining the tub. “‘n’ is the water gonna hurt?”

Much to Elias’ clear dismay, Cohen nodded. “Unfortunately, but I promise it’ll get better eventually. Your wounds - particularly the ones left from the wire - are already infected. Whether you get into the bath or not, they’ve still gotta be washed before I bandage them.”

Truthfully, Cohen had been expecting more of a fight. However, it wasn’t long before the boy warily nodded, reaching out a hand for some support.

“I know it sucks having to rely on someone so much,” Cohen said as he helped him strip out of the last piece of clothing - his underwear. They were damp and torn in multiple places, leaving them to be of little use to him now. It was not hard to see the look of embarrassment on Elias’ face as they were tossed aside to be thrown out later on, but Cohen hardly left him any time to dwell on that as he lifted him off his feet and carefully lowered him into the tub. “Give it enough time and you’ll be independent enough to do what you like.”

“I know,” he whispered defeatedly, his entire face suddenly twisting up in pain as the water began to make contact with his injuries. Cohen felt his fingers dig into his arm, sharp, uncut nails threatening to draw blood each time he held on just that bit tighter. “Hurts!”

Cohen forced himself to smile. “Yes, you’ve made that very clear. It’ll ease up soon but you gotta try and relax until then, okay?”

Although it seemed to take a while, Elias’ expressions eventually started to soften, as did the grip on Cohen’s arm. He was quick to pull his other sleeve over his hand to dab away the spots of blood that appeared when it was let go completely.

“Would you like me to give you some privacy?” he asked, his voice quieting to match the change in atmosphere in the room. “If you’re happy enough alone, I might go make a start on that meal I promised. You can call me when you’re done and I’ll be back to help you get dressed. Otherwise, I’m also happy to sit here and keep you company.”

There was a moment of hesitation before he mustered his response. “Uhm… is- is it weird that I want you to stay?”

“Not at all,” Cohen shook his head, and with a small grunt he lowered himself down onto the cool tiles beneath him before resting both his wrists on the side of the tub. As soon as they were within arm's reach of him, the boy took hold of them and started to examine each faded cut, bruise and scar he’d acquired over the years, occasionally trailing a finger along one of them to see where it ended. They were parts of Cohen that he’d always been embarrassed by, but it seemed to be nothing short of intriguing to him.

“I have hundreds of scars on my body,” he eventually whispered. “It’s kinda cool to meet someone who has them, too.”

While he had tried his best not to focus on them too much, Cohen was not oblivious to the scars that were present on Elias’ body, most of them being at least a little infected while the others had healed over a long time ago. It couldn’t have been the first time someone had used barbed wire as a way of restraining him either - there were multiple faded outlines of the same marks that were now fresh on his skin, though some of them still looked more recent than he would have liked.

“Yeah?” He couldn’t help but smile, allowing his fingers to curl around Elias’ when he gently sat his hand upon them. “I try to keep ‘em hidden most of the time. Not many people wanna look at something so conventionally ugly, and it also isn’t really good for business.”

Elias looked as though he couldn’t disagree more with his statement. It was almost amusing watching his expression morph into one of obvious disapproval, and he began to trail his fingertip along another one.

“Well, I think you’re wrong,” he absentmindedly shrugged. “Scars are only as ugly as we make them out to be. I like that they hold stories we might not even know we had with them.”

Huh. “I guess that’s one way of looking at it.”

After he reached the end, the boy looked back up at him and smiled something sad. “I don’t always like mine either. Sometimes I wish I could make them go away, but if I can’t help the fact that they’re there, then I figure it’s far more beneficial to find reasons to like them instead of finding reasons to hate them. Does that make sense? I feel like I might be rambling… just a little. Today has been so long and stressful.”

Cohen felt himself sigh. “I could not agree more.”

Within a few hours, the two of them had a steaming bowl of pasta each and had sat down together on the couch in Cohen’s living room. The place itself didn’t really have much to offer, but Elias seemed content enough leaning against the arm of the couch, a blanket draped over his shoulders and his entire body hunched over to try and savor as much warmth radiating from the bowl as he could.

Meanwhile, Cohen had several search bars open on his laptop, all of them with articles relating to whom he assumed was Elias’ mother. They shared the same last name - he’d been smart enough to ask him about that as he cooked dinner, and it appeared that she died a few months before he said he was kidnapped. Not to mention her nineteen year old child that all three articles said went missing not long afterwards.

But the paragraph that confused him most was the one that mentioned her murderer, who they said had supposedly gone into hiding afterwards.

“Lucas killed your mom?” he blurted before he could stop the words from spilling out. Almost immediately Elias’ entire body stiffened, fingers tightening around his half-empty bowl despite the heat still going strong. Even for him, it wasn’t hard to see that he’d hit a sore spot, and in an extremely foolish way, too.

The boy tilted his head a little in an attempt to see what was going on on the screen, his face falling even more when Cohen shut his laptop screen before he could get a proper look. “How’d you know about that?”

“I wanted to learn more about what happened.”

“...and you wanted to do that through the media rather than me?” There it was. That same look Cohen had already seen so many times just in that cabin alone. Something that resembled a mixture of anger and hurt. Except, before, he hadn’t actually done anything wrong. He wasn’t sure he could say that now. “It’s ironic, really. Nobody ever wanted to hear my side of what happened back then, either.”

Despite his inner voice telling him to just apologise, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. They were such simple words, and yet neither would come to him when he tried.

So, instead of spending several minutes trying to speak what words wouldn’t come, he slowly sat up and set his laptop down on the coffee table in an attempt to show that his attention was now all on him. “Upsetting you was not my intention, Elias,” he quietly assured him, and the sound of his own name once again had him looking up through teary brown eyes. “I didn’t realise it was so important to you.”

“Wouldn’t it be to anyone?” he asked irritably. “It was fucking horrible. All of it. I bet you missed all those articles speculating that I was the one who killed her, too.”

Cohen frowned. “People really thought that?”

“Of course they fucking did, and you wanna know why he had me in his filthy little hands soon after he killed her? I wanted to clear my name. I wanted it all to stop. I wanted to be able to step outside just once without being shunned for the things I didn’t even do.”

“So…” Cohen’s eyes squeezed shut as the realisation finally dawned on him. It made him felt sick. “You went to find him.”

“Yeah, I did.”

When his eyes finally opened again, he realised that all the anger was gone. He was no longer the picture of fury, struggling to have his own voice be heard over everyone else’s theories and speculations. Instead, he now looked absolutely heartbroken, as if any grief he should have felt at the time was finally beginning to make its way to the surface.

“Nobody gave me a chance to stand up for myself,” he whispered bitterly after a quiet minute or two. “Nobody asked how I was or- or if I was handling the death of my own fucking mother okay. Nobody fucking cared that the answer was no. I could not have been more alone, and- and eventually I decided that if I died trying to prove I was innocent, then it was probably for the best anyway.”

“...’n’ I guess I was too upset to consider all the other possible scenarios.”

Cohen forced himself to nod. A weak attempt at showing that he was still listening, even if he wasn’t responding to what was being said. Truthfully, he had no idea what to say. Everything he thought of was either only going to make it worse or a completely pointless addition to the conversation.

“I believe you” was the phrase he finally settled on. Not long afterwards Elias appeared directly beside him, his bottom lip trembling as he suspiciously examined his facial expression for any underlying lies or hints of sarcasm.

Eventually, his shoulders began to slump a little as he relaxed. “You do?” he whispered.

“Yeah.” He gave a firm nod. “Got no reason not to. Besides, I’m not really in the right position to be judging people on that sort of thing even if you had, now am I?”

Much to his relief, Elias’ face shifted into one of slight amusement. “At least the people you kill are guilty of something,” he mumbled as he tiredly pressed his forehead into Cohen’s arm. “My mother was a good person. Did nothin’ to deserve the fate she got. I miss her more and more every goddamn day.”

Albeit awkwardly, Cohen forced his arm around the boy’s shoulders and pulled him a little closer, allowing him to fully collapse against his side as he started to quietly weep all over again. “She never would’a let me do something so fucking stupid.”

All he could do was give a sad smile, gentle fingers rubbing soothing circles into his back as the tears continued to fall down Elias’ grief stricken face.

“I… I got you,” he spoke slowly. Truth be told, he was possibly going to end up simply quoting all the most common phrases of comfort from his favourite books until he calmed down if this continued. He knew nothing about looking after another person, apart from the physical aspect of it.

He wondered how the hell he was supposed to make it through two months of this without constantly messing up.

Taglist:@kiss1t0ffm3 @nyooom @pigeonwhumps @topsheepstudent @whumped4whumplover @whumpsday @whumpshaped

Ask to be added or taken off <3

#whump #whump stuff #whump things #whump thoughts #whumpee #caretaker #whump tropes #sbak stuff

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mj-iza-writer · 2 years ago

Text

I wrote this at work on a slow day. Character death- MJ

"Amy, stop spacing out", the charge nurse snapped their fingers while they checked vitals.

"I'm sorry, but do you ever feel like something is watching you in this room?", Amy shivered, "it gives me the creeps."

"All of the time", the charge nurse sighed, "I try to ignore it, this poor soul needs us", they looked at the battered body.

It had been a full week since the detectives had located Caretaker's location and raided the building. Caretaker and two others had been held captive there. All three varied in how long they had been there.

Caretaker had been there three weeks, and even in that amount of time, the doctors felt it would be safest to put him into a coma to heal.

The second person had been a week there, they escaped with minor injuries.

The third, Whumpee, had been there for a year. They were badly broken by the time they were removed. It seemed they had fought to stay alive long enough to be found, they succumbed to their injuries in an officers arms. Dead by the time they felt the chill of the night air.

Caretaker had been heard yelling, asking about the two others. No one had the will to tell them Whumpee died.

Now, Caretaker lay in their hospital bed, a long road to recovery. Most was to be spent in the medically induced coma.

Most staff couldn't get over the spooky feeling of someone watching in Caretaker's room.

No one noticed Whumpee sitting on the floor beside Caretaker's bed. At least no one could see them there it seemed.

Whumpee often cried, they didn't want to be invisible. They wished to be acknowledged again, even if it meant going back to the torture. This was almost worse than anything their captors had done.

Whumpee stood up and gently poked Caretaker.

"Caretaker", they whispered, "please tell me what's going on."

Caretaker just layed there motionless.

Whumpee screamed, causing the lights to dim. The monitor beeped a few times before someone rushed in.

"That's the second time today", the charge nurse sighed, "whatever keeps doing that needs to stop, it's going to kill Caretaker."

Whumpee whimpered when they heard those words.

Another nurse came in.

"Everything okay?", they asked.

"Yes, Caretaker is stable", the nurse looked over the vital another time.

"Good. I was reading the chart for Caretaker. Did you know two others came out of that place. One hadn't been there too long, so they were fairly okay and were in a different part of the hospital. But one other named Whumpee died as they were being carried out", the nurse frowned, "it seemed Caretaker had been doing all they could to keep Whumpee alive, with promises that they would be rescued soon. Whumpee died as they left the building."

Whumpee listened, "I remember now, I didn't want to be forgotten in this world. Caretaker kept promising me that we would be found, just hold out a little longer. I remember now. I-I died."

Whumpee fell to the ground in front of the nurses.

"Not to be superstitious, but you don't suppose Whumpee could be here with us. They seemed pretty close to Caretaker", the nurse frowned.

Whumpee listened bewildered.

"I don't know, I have a hard time believing in ghost."

"You can admit though it's spooky in here", the other admitted.

They both left agreeing with each other.

Whumpee stood by Caretaker's bed now. They cried but tried to be careful with their emotions they didn't want to kill Caretaker or anyone for that matter.

Whumpee sat by the bed for the rest of the day thinking about what had happened. Wishing they knew more of what was going on. If only Caretaker were with them to tell them it was going to be okay.

"He probably wouldn't be able to see me anyways", Whumpee sighed.

The door opened again. The nurse from earlier came in carrying something.

"This is awkward, but is there by chance someone in here named Whumpee?", they looked around.

Whumpee stood up.

"If you are here, will you move this", the nurse held up a string with a needle hanging from it.

Whumpee went over to them, but stopped suddenly, "how am I supposed to move that", they waved their hands at it. Nothing.

"Come on, I can feel your energy. Just tell me I'm not crazy", the nurse pleaded.

Whumpee groaned, "I can't", they looked at the string and with all concentration they could muster tried to flick it."

"It moved", the nurse exclaimed excitedly.

Whumpee fell back suddenly feeling really weak.

"Okay wow", the nurse looked around excitedly.

Whumpee smiled, glad they had been noticed again.

Whumpee decided to tour around the hospital a few days later.

There was nothing else to do besides watch Caretaker's steady breathing and the machines thankfully keeping Caretaker alive.

Whumpee came back to the room in time to see the doctor come in.

"They are looking good", the doctor exclamined, "I may consider taking them out of the coma if it keeps up."

Whumpee sat on the couch across the room from them to listen.

The nurse who knew Whumpee was there. They looked around the room.

"You seem a little sidetracked", the doctor smiled.

"I'm sorry, um it's weird, but I feel like someone is watching", the nurse blushed.

"You mean like a ghost", the doctor smiled wider.

"Yes", the nurse looked down, "do you believe in ghost?"

"Well honestly I don't know, there are a lot of things we don't know about in this life", the doctor sighed, "but I don't doubt your senses. There was a death involved in this case."

"Yes, Whumpee", the nurse looked at Caretaker.

"Yes."

Whumpee stood by the light switch, they had learned a few tricks, and was working on their energy. They smiled as they flicked the switch off then on again.

"What the heck", the doctor looked around.

"They have a few pranks they like to pull", the nurse sighed.

"They?", the doctor looked at them wide-eyed.

"Whumpee, they've been with Caretaker this whole time watching over them", the nurse smirked, "I was able to make contact, and I think they've enjoyed being noticed again. The room seems lighter than it did before doesn't it."

"Y-yes", the doctor tried to catch their breath, "I uh, wasn't expecting that."

Whumpee laughed as they walked to the bed. They reached down and touched the doctor's hand.

The doctor jerked back.

"Cold hand touch yours?", the nurse grinned.

"Y-yes", the doctor looked at them shocked.

"They won't hurt you, I think they are learning how to do things, and are trying to be noticed more", the nurse sighed, "I wasn't ready when they poked me the other day."

"What do we do?", the doctor asked, "this is a new one for me."

"Just say hi, they don't want to cause any trouble", the nurse smiled, "they just want people to know they're here."

The doctor nodded, "Hello Whumpee, I promise Caretaker is in good hands."

Whumpee smiled finally someone else knew they existed still, they weren't forgotten.

A few more days passed, three weeks since Caretaker was hospitalized.

The doctor peaked in, "alright Whumpee, no spooks, I need to check on Caretaker."

Whumpee sat on the couch and watched the doctor and nurses working on Caretaker.

"I think we can take them out of the coma, they've healed remarkably", the doctor smiled happily, "better than I thought."

Whumpee did a happy dance, they could finally find out if Caretaker could see them. They ignored the thought of Caretaker not seeing them though.

Later the staff came in to start the process.

Whumpee stood at the bedside next to them.

They poked the nurse they had befriended.

"I know I'm excited to", the nurse whispered.

Everyone gave a weird look, only the doctor gave a knowing glance around the room.

The nurse quickly pointed out where Whumpee was.

The doctor nodded.

Whumpee watched as Caretaker struggled to wake up.

Caretaker gasped a couple times, "where am I?"

"You are in a hospital, just getting out of a medically induced coma", the doctor smiled, "you are safe now."

Caretaker closed their eyes, "okay, yep its coming back to me, how is, how is Whumpee and that other one? Are they okay?"

"How about we finish here, and we'll talk", the doctor sighed.

"No please I know Whumpee was in bad shape, and no one has told me anything. Are they ok....", Caretaker locked eyes with Whumpee, "oh they're right there, good. Whumpee, you look like your in better shape than me, oh that's good", Caretaker relaxed.

Whumpee almost cried.

The doctor locked eyes with the nurse, they both shivered.

Everyone else looked startled as well, Whumpee wasn't there. They figured he was still processing.

Once everyone had left except the doctor and the nurse. They both sat beside Caretaker's bed.

The doctor started, "Caretaker I am so happy you are awake, you've been an honor to take care of."

The nurse agreed.

"I have some news though, um, Whumpee died that night", the doctor sighed, "um the moment the officer got them outside they passed", the doctor wiped a stray tear.

"I'm looking at them right now", Caretaker pointed, almost pleadfully.

Whumpee wiped a tear away, they disappeared and reappeared closer to Caretaker.

"I'm dead Caretaker", they sighed.

"No, no please", Caretaker sobbed, "you were supposed to be free with me, and live and be remembered. And- and be reminded there is good in this world."

"There is good", Whumpee reached and grabbed Caretaker's arm, "this doctor, this nurse, you. There is so much good here.

Caretaker sobbed as they listened.

The doctor looked away, they eyed the nurse.

"I'm so sorry Caretaker", they replied, "we both believe Whumpee is here with you, they've been here this whole time watching over you, and playing pranks on us. I think you might be able to see them, I'm taking it as that."

Caretaker nodded.

"I'm sure you both have a lot to talk about so we are going to leave you now. Use this call bell if you need us", the doctor pulled down the alarms.

Caretaker wiped a tear as they watched them leave.

"The other person was rescued as well, they've already been cleared to go home, they couldn't see me, but I spent some time in their room before they left", Whumpee stood by the bed, "so far you've been the only one to see me. That nurse made contact with me first, then the doctor felt me."

"I yelled for you, no one told me. I'm so sorry", Caretaker sobbed.

"The only thing I would change from this is that I wish I could have known you on your side of life. I have no idea what I'm supposed to do now', Whumpee looked down, "the officer that carried me was very kind. When he saw I was dying, he stopped and hugged me as I died. I'm okay."

Caretaker shook as they listened.

"I promise, I'm okay. You were right, I was able to hold on a little longer, and be free, just in a different way. Hopefully, you will remember me if I ever do fade out of existence. I honestly have no idea what will happen to me now."

"I won't forget you Whumpee I promise", Caretaker smiled weakly, "until that happens will you stay with me, haunt me if you will. Maybe you can enjoy your freedom that way until you know what you are supposed to do."

"I'll enjoy that", Whumpee grinned, "it's been fun learning to be a ghost."

Caretaker nodded, "I'm sure."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all. @villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived @sacredwrath @porschethemermaid @monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz @bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13 @notpeppermint

#whump community #whump stuff #whump writing #whump ideas #whump #whumpee #whumper #whump scenario #caretaking #oc #ghost whumpee #caretaker #character death

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libraryofplotbunnies · 1 month ago

Note

♡ "i will not lose you the way i lost them!"

For Marianna and MC!

Content Warning: Blood and Mild Horror

You didn't know what happened as you felt the tendrils wrapped around your head. The shadowy figure had a white shape reminiscent of a crooked grin as the tendrils dug deeper into your psyche. A scream claws through your throat as your skin and bones are violently ripped asunder and reshaped. Your limbs and torso began to be contorted for the monster's nefarious purpose, the heat burning through your skin.

A dense wall of trees obstructs your view of your friends, who are desperately trying to get through the other side. The trunks stand like a battalion of natural centurions, preventing anything or anyone from disrupting the ritual.

You didn't know how long you screamed into the mindless void, the agony utterly relentless as the malicious force reshaped your very being. Strange symbols etch themselves into your skin, the markings slithering up your arms and chest.

The darkness almost completely covered your vision before you felt the strange force rescind from your mind, leaving your battered body collapsing onto the ground like a puppet with its strings cut. Your body was stopped midway through the transformation the otherworldly being imposed on you, your limbs grotesquely twisted as you struggled to rise.

The one who had been controlling you lay on the ground, their chest torn shredded by claws, their neck gouged out by fangs. You nearly cried out again but it was stopped by something chilling surrounding your body. Pale arms cradle your body close, their hands soaked in blood and gore that seeped into your clothes. You look up into bloody-soaked orange eyes, their teeth glistening with the same crimson coating their hands.

You had never seen her like this. Marie seems so different now, her pristine white blouse drenched in the blood from the monster that tried to control you. She panted heavily, pulling you closer into her as she took greedy gulps of air. You wanted to speak but your vocal cords were ripped apart from your agonizing scream earlier.

"MC," Marie's voice was unnaturally soft, stripped of the sharpness she often used as a weapon. It was odd to see her so gentle despite being covered in gore, her eyes and hair burning bright in the dark.

The others were cleaning up the mess she had made in her supposed rage, a surreal thought that seemed so odd given her disdain. They drag the dead creature away but your wandering eyes were brought back to her as her hand guided your head towards her gaze.

"Please, MC" She pleaded, her claws so gentle on her jaw even as the blood from her skill stained your skin.

"I can't lose you like I did E," her voice falters on the name of your best friend, her sibling. You longed to comfort her but your limbs were still too mangled to do so. It hurts to see the prideful and composed woman so broken, her tears streaking across the red speckle across her cheeks.

All you could do was lean into her protective embrace, hoping that maybe simply giving her a grimace of a smile and soaking in her comfort was enough to stop her from crying. You didn't want to cause her any grief, she had gone through plenty enough by now.

#belrose curse- if #ros #mariana lanshire #mariana #marie #thanks for the ask!#thanks anon!

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stcries · 1 month ago

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@yieldingdreams wrote: Ghashing fangs and curling claws flash from within the mound of ebony feathers. Within the binds of the ropes that held the creature down, horrible growls and cries sounded as he thrashed and strained, massive wings aching against his binds. Sobbing in a voice that sounded all too human despite the grotesque miscarriage of science and medicine that had been created. Brought before the healer in the hopes of... perfecting what was nearly complete. An ideal weapon it would make if only it stopped its incessant whining and yapping. If anyone could make the beast behave as it should, it would be the man who had reshaped so many others to his version of perfection.

However, this was no mere beast. He was a man once. One left broken and battered by grief and heartbreak and all too easily captured for this awful cause. When his gaze lifted, silver eyes went wide in horror before the birdlike man recoiled in shame. "No-" he wept, muffled by the ground as he curled into himself where he lay, "Not you- Anyone but you! Yo-You cant ... see me. Not like this."

it had become a daily ritual for the herald, greeting those who wished to be healed, freed from disease. it was something he took both pride and pleasure in, so upon hearing of visitors near the outer gates? viktor hadn't thought much of it-- even when the screaming and snarling beast is brought forth, the herald doesn't waver, standing tall and firm...

yet when his eyes locked with that of the feathered beast's, it was only for a mere second, but that was all it took. even if the herald no longer had organic innards, it felt as if all the air had been sucked from his non-existent lungs-- no, it wasn't possible, it couldn't possibly-! metallic fingers grip tighter to the arcane swirled staff at his side, focusing his energy there, drawing attention away from the way his knees almost buckled from beneath him.

how? he had so many questions-- how had julian ended up like this in the first place, why was he now assosciating with... these people?-- were they the ones who had done this to his beloved in the first place? there's already subtle signs of anger slipping through, the twitching of a lower eyelid, the way dark eyebrows knitted together atop his brow. it's taking every inch of the herald's patience not to simply snap at his guests. but those dams were very quickly cracking at the seams.

no longer was he listening to the demands of the noxians, nor his old teacher. those voices had filtered into nothing but a background blur in his mind, viktor having shifted to his knees directly in front of the blackened creature. but his movements, they're gentle-- cold metallic fingers reach out, soft, to brush against those feathers, perhaps almost testing if the sight in front of him was truly real, trying in vain to get the other to meet his gaze. gently, his forehead briefly comes to rest atop the other's feathered head, simply soaking in the moment. and that's when all hellfire finally broke loose...

"out--" he starts, voice quiet as the herald slowly rises to his feet again. posture now straight, imposing, iridescent eyes shifting varying hues as his gaze pierces into those whom had brought the other to his feet. "all of you, OUT, now. you are no longer welcome in this commune-- leave of your volition, or i will make you." he punctuated his words with a slam of the tip of his staff into the gravel, unmoving and unyielding from his position. "but he, he stays with me."

#・ ˖ ✦ ⋄ . IN CHARACTER ❝ viktor. ❞#yieldingdreams #the commune is a peaceful place....#but the herald in this moment can and will stab a bitch #he is PISSED #ambessa? singed?? if u know what's good for you??? leave the birdy with him

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eldritchaccident · 11 months ago

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Timing: In the early hours of the morning Location: The Jones household basement Feat: @faustianbroker & @eldritchaccident Warnings: None on the list, but a large beast does get stapled back together Summary: What happens when a phone call becomes a visit

The downfall of having a physical form was, of course, the risk of damage.

It was a risk Leviathan had happily taken in stride for centuries, and it had never really bitten the demon in the ass too badly until now. The monstrous, semi-aquatic creature was tucked away in the dark recesses of a damp cave that sat along the coast of another dimension, its sides rising and falling with fluttering irregularity. Every once in a while the silence would be broken by the sound of scales dragging across stone as it repositioned itself, battered body aching and bleeding blue onto the cavern floor. It didn’t have much time to make good on the deal it had been forced into accepting, it knew. It had to move soon, but it was in too much pain to even try. They had cornered it here, a half dozen of them, bearing down upon it with ferocity that it knew came from fear. But they wouldn’t kill it, they wouldn’t stoop to that level. No, they had other ideas. They would still make use of Leviathan yet. There was little sense in wasting the talents of one of their own kind, after all, like Leviathan had wasted Wyvss’Kgorr’s. So, with teeth cutting into its neck and its spine threatening to shatter under the pressure, it had accepted the deal. The other demons left it then, satisfied with the results of this single-use league, and went back to their respective dimensions, likely to never coordinate with one another in such a way again.

Leviathan would be proud of causing such a reaction once it felt less like it was on the brink of death.

There wasn’t a way to tell how much time had passed here, cut off from the starlight as it was, but every moment that passed stacked an additional brick of unease on the wall that the demon was trying to build around itself. All of this had happened because it cared too much, because it was too curious for its own good. It wouldn’t let such things get in the way again, it told itself, even if it did have to return to Wicked’s Rest. It wouldn’t (it probably would). Laying there in the pitch darkness, Leviathan was acutely aware of a sudden tug in its chest. It lifted that massive head, many eyes blinking out of sync as it focused on nothing but dark. A low growl started in its throat and it shifted lazily before wincing in surprise as a sudden light filled the cavern. It was only a pinprick at first, but it blinded the beast into submission, eyes squeezing shut and head rearing back, away from the offensive glare.

Those eyes remained shut, until it heard a sound. It wasn’t sure what the sound was, but it knew it had not come from itself. Blinking them open again, squinting against the light, Leviathan peered into the space in front of it while its eyes adjusted. That tug in its chest grew stronger, heart hammering against prehistoric ribs. The light was a ring in the air, and in the center of it, a dimmer source of illumination, and… a figure. A person.

“... Teddy?”

—

Days of non-stop work, weeks of planning, months of research. All boiled down to a pin prick point of focus. Determination. Hope. Teddy’s blood, sweat, and tears ran rivers. But the ritual was working. Energy effused through every vein, every pore. Alight inside, illuminating their skin and the dim basement around them with an eerie blue glow.

Teddy's breath felt like fire, each labored movement came at cost. This wasn't the kind of magic that naturally flowed through them. Summoning was much more Van’s thing than Teddy's. But there was no way they were going to risk hurting her, or even the possibility of bringing her near something so dangerous.

Hell, Emilio was supposed to be next to them too, but Teddy wouldn't let that happen. Was supposed to be by their side in case shit went sideways, or they somehow dialed the wrong demon number. But he'd been through too much with Basil or whatever the fuck that demon was called. Still on bedrest. His favorite thing. So no. Teddy had to do this alone. Had to make contact. Had to hear from their father.

And it was working.

A hole ripped through the fabric of the universe, tore a portal through to another dimension. The brusk smell of the endless ocean burst through first. Unmistakable and nostalgic. Enough to know Teddy was doing something right. A hazy picture began to form next. A room too dark to see, something that Teddy couldn't allow their heart to race at. At that moment, it was like they were a twelve volt battery channeling a whole power plant through its cells. All while trying to recite the dictionary backwards from memory.

And then its voice rang through. Rough, rich, and rumbling deep into Teddy's bones.

“D-dad!” Ted called out, the portal shrank slightly as their focus faulted, their breath hitched until they could catch themself and steady it once more. A sizzle at their fingertips reminded them how little room for error there was, and how dumb of an idea it was to do this alone.

—

All those ideals of closing itself off from others crumbled in the hopeful and frightened face of Theodore Jones, who called out to it with a term of familiarity that it hadn’t heard in so long… It groaned, picking itself up off the floor of the cave and dragging that enormous body closer to the portal. Without any care for what might happen if its child lost focus and the portal closed on it, Leviathan stuck one bestial, webbed hand through the opening, gripping the edge of the luminous tear in reality as if it were merely a rung on a ladder. “Teddy,” it repeated slowly, eyes closing again as it hauled itself closer. It wasn’t sure which would be easier—helping Teddy make the portal stronger and larger, or shifting into something smaller. The latter would be advantageous to fitting into the basement of their home, which is what the background behind its child appeared to be. But the former wouldn’t be a bad idea either, so Leviathan summoned the last of its strength to do both at the same time. That handful of eyes snapped open again, glowing a bright ethereal blue as it tried to strengthen the connection with its own power, continuing to pull itself through the portal as seafoam bubbled up around it and sloughed off parts of its body. Shedding its previous form didn’t get rid of the wounds, and the pain of ripping them open drew a long, grating cry from its jaws as it slumped to the floor of the basement, thrashing its body farther into the room and curling its tail around itself.

The spiny, webbed dorsal fin flattened as the creature let out a long, exhausted sigh. Gills flapped uselessly, but the lungs in its anatomy kept it from being in any immediate peril. Drying out would be unpleasant, but that was a concern for later. Leviathan was still slicked with blue blood, long head swinging around to face Teddy. Even among the perplexing layout of the demon’s features, pride could be seen. “Just… the person I wanted to see,” it rattled.

—

The portal wasn’t necessarily supposed to work like that. Was built to be more of a phone call than a bridge, but— Ahh. Leviathan’s energies pooled into the ritual, like the sea meeting a freshwater spring. A brackish backlash that somehow both soothed and burned with a familiarity that only stood to bolster Teddy’s resolve. It wasn’t expected, but they couldn’t help the elation, that quickly melted away into horror as they realized exactly what shape the beast was in.

Leviathan slithered through and the gateway snapped shut. A sickening pop and rush of air and energy propelled Teddy backwards, falling into the great creature’s side with a soft thud. A moment of shock left the caster breathless, whirling around to take stock of what just happened. Long distance facetime connections don’t usually end with an instantaneous house call.

A horrible part of Teddy’s imagination briefly wondered whether it was an improperly done ritual that had marred the Leviathan’s hide in such a vicious manner, that somehow this blood was their fault but the bite marks and claw wounds were more than enough evidence that something else was at play.

“W-what happened— Dad are you okay??” Teddy’s voice croaked, their hands found its face, or at least what they could hold from such a small state beside it. “What can I do to help?” They were tired, spent from the spell, from the variant magic running through their veins, from the weeks of exhausting research and need to get it just right. But goddamn there wasn’t a fucking thing they wouldn’t jump up and do for Leviathan right then.

Their dad was home, really properly there, not just on the other end of a half-thought dream. It looked at them with pride and Teddy’s heart soared with all the ache they’d carried these months without their father. Thinking they’d never get to see it again at all. Hell, if Levi wanted a few human sacrifices Teds could think of a few less than pleasant neighbors who hadn’t been so kind during Pride month. “What do you need?”

—

The demon groaned and shifted its body weight again, but held its head still in the caster’s hands. “Fine, I’m fine,” it breathed, not wanting to worry Teddy more than it inevitably would. “They ah… well. It was as I feared.” The greater demons had taken issue, and had pursued it. “I was found.” It sucked in another long breath, closing its eyes again and just enjoying the feeling of being embraced. “It’s okay. I needed… to come back here. You… made that much easier,” it admitted, closing its eyes. “As for what I need… time. Just time.” It let out one last ragged sigh before blinking and swiveling its gaze to meet Teddy’s.

The human emotions that had plagued it while it remained tethered to its ward had never fully left. Or rather, they lingered in spite of the involuntary compulsion to experience them having been removed, and now they only existed in the Leviathan’s breast because it wished it so. Hours ago, it had wanted to feel nothing, to return to numbness, but how could it still want that when Teddy was here in front of it, pressing their hands to its scales and asking how they could help? Void above, they’d never wanted anything but to help their father and make it proud of them, and Leviathan could have done much better in showing them just how proud it was. In the end, it had become cold. It told itself this was to spare them both a more painful goodbye, and while that might have been true, it was not the whole truth.

“I am sorry,” came the creature’s low, rumbling apology. “For everything. Please, tell me… how have you been? What’s happened since I had to leave?”

—

Fine wasn’t a word they’d use to describe the gouged flesh and torn hide, but Teddy also knew the beast well enough that it would deny any fussing and worrying unless given forcefully. Years ago, a young Theodore had tried to salve the demon’s wounds with stolen Hello Kitty bandaids, glittery stickers, and ‘healing’ pancakes with extra shrimp. But the Jones house never lacked for those dumb enough to pick a bone with them. So Teds got a lot of practice in. Even shapeshifting demons from before the dawn of time needed a little TLC after a rampage or two.

This seemed worse, somehow. In a way that Teddy couldn’t put into words but felt deep in their gut. They didn’t want to leave its side, but some of the weeping wounds needed a little more than just time. “Too many— even for you to fight?” They guessed tentatively. A spark of undeniable skepticism lacing their sentence, as if anything in the great vastness of the void above and below could ever come close to the might their father commanded. The question was a good enough segue to step aside for a moment. Grab some tools and tenderly start to work. A needle and thread would do about as well as a kayak in a hurricane, so the next best thing would be a staple gun and duct tape. Emilio would be proud.

“Made easi— I helped you? Dad I just— It wasn’t supposed to be a physical tear— that was all you.” Mend the big gaps, ignore the sounds of pain, wipe off anything too mucky, sanitize with vodka. Teddy’s brain went all methodical in times like this. An engine built to bring things back to calm, to safety. Even so, the talking was nice. Hearing his voice made them feel a little less alone in the world. Sure, Teddy had a pretty tight family they’d forged for themself here, but Levi was their dad. And that was— a bit of a sore subject.

“Lots.” They admitted. Their mind flashed back to Canada. To the worst parts first. How many times they’d be injured, only to be saved by Leviathan’s blessing. How many times they nearly died. But it wasn’t all bad. “I uh— I think I’m gonna marry Emilio. That’s a big one. Didn’t really see that coming.”

—

There was a long pause before Leviathan answered the first question, for the demon disliked the answer. “Yes. Even for me.” They had no natural predators but themselves, and while Leviathan had spent centuries battling ferocious creatures and armies of men, it still could not stand up to the might of six others at once. “But I am alive, so who really won?” it added with a grating sound that was maybe supposed to be a laugh.

Dying, of course, had never been the true peril of being caught. Leviathan had wondered for a time if they would merely seek revenge, but knowing what it would do if faced with such a crisis of personal security and safety, it knew that it would have used that leverage for more than just death. The scenario with Wynne’s demon had been different—more had been at stake. Or, well, things outside of itself had been at stake. There had been no room for loopholes. But of course, it could not tell Teddy any of this.

The demon hissed softly in response to the staple gun, flinching away from it without wanting to, eyes tightly shut. “Maybe not,” it ground out, “but I didn’t have the strength to even contact you, much less… create a portal from the ground up. So yes. You gave me an anchor. You helped.”

Lots. That was nondescript. But they’d have plenty of time for talking, it knew, so it didn’t worry too much that the full truth was being withheld for now. It had its own secrets, after all. “Marry?” it piped up, looking up at Teddy again. Humans were really pretty crazy about that kind of thing, weren’t they? It stood to reason that Teddy would be just as susceptible to romanticism. Hm. I suppose my faith in the slayer to look after you was well placed. It would have to thank him later. “That is very good news,” the demon purred, carefully lifting a front leg and brushing the back of a clawed, webbed toe against Teddy’s side. Its teeth were bared in something that was probably supposed to be a smile, though given the beastly form it had taken, it looked more like a grimace. Ah well. “I am… here for you. I’m not leaving again, Teddy.” There was a beat of powerful silence. “I promise.”

—

“Naaaah, I bet you had them all scared. Just a flinch and they’d be quaking in their eldritch boots.” A childish lie, hoping to be true. Teddy nuzzled in closer to the hardened scales and expanse of rough flesh. Worming their way between the folds of its arm into a crook that snugly held the all too human Jones. A body never meant for comfort or its ilk, but to the Leviathan’s ward? It was home. Teddy was home after far too long, even if it wasn’t exactly the same, even if it never would be again. They had their dad and everything seemed just a little more okay.

From their squished up position, using the big amphibious lizard-thing as both blanket and mattress, Teddy surged with a pride vibrant enough to spur what dregs of energy was left in their system to spark outwards and shatter the one lightbulb in the basement. Leaving just the candles and one very persistent glow-stick from a parade in June to keep the space from total darkness. Thankfully. Teds didn’t exactly want to explain that one just yet, and the Leviathan probably needed some quiet and peace to rest.

“Better that you’ll be here for it. Who else is gonna give away the blushing bride?” To be fair, most of Teddy’s ideas of what marriage was came from old movies and pop culture. Growing up, Levi had never been shy about multiple partners and enjoying itself whenever the whims arose. The desire to tie their life to Emilio came from somewhere else entirely. All wrapped up in the ways the hunter made them feel so secure and safe, in the respect and admiration they had for him. In the love for his personality and how perfectly it complimented their own. Love in a completely new form, as steady as a stone.

The wriggling human stilled after the Leviathan’s next statement. Its promise. Teddy’s breath stopped short, they let the weight of what it said sink in, even if they couldn’t fully process immediately what it would mean, the elation and joy sparked up right away. Like a giddy toddler, they pressed themself further into the beast’s side. “Thank you, dad I— I needed you. I think I always will. I love you.”

—

Teddy was wrong, but Leviathan would let them believe what they liked. It didn’t matter, anyway. What had truly transpired was something the demon would not—and could not—speak of. Eyes flicked up toward the shattered bulb—the beast wanted to ask, it wanted to know what had become of Teddy since it had fled this plane, how the child’s power had truly manifested itself without the demonic runes on their bones overpowering whatever had been dormant all these years… but they would have time. They would have all the time that they needed, and Leviathan would ask every question that rolled across its mind like a cavalry of tumbleweeds across the desert.

“I am going to make sure I write…” It paused to suck in a tired breath, “a very long and embarrassing toast.” There was another rumble of amusement in its throat as it thought about that day, whenever it came about, and it felt itself warm from the inside out. To see Teddy happy was all it needed, whatever form that came in.

“I am sorry it was for so long. But I think it was the correct choice.” Leviathan shuddered to think what might have happened to Teddy if the other demons had sensed the bridge between them, had sniffed out their familial bond and chosen to use that against it. “Even so…” A second apology hung silent in the air, felt rather than heard as the demon pulled Teddy closer to itself, if that were possible. “I love you too.” Another short, pained sigh slipped free from its maw. “I think… I need to take a very long nap. Much healing to be done.” It shifted its massive head. “You do not need to stay. I will remain here until I feel I can safely return to my disguised form.” If Teddy was so certain they’d be marrying Emilio, then the return of their father was probably a bit of news worth sharing with him. “When you’re ready, go speak with Emilio. I do not know if he is still as angry with me as he was when I left, but… you’ve always been great at diplomacy.”

#wickedswriting #faustianbroker #eldritchaccident

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wack-ashimself · 3 months ago

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My battered beaten body dog rant.

I have got to FUCKING VENT! My uncle asked to me watch his dog. Fine. Cool. Done it before. She's a playful fun spirit. I adore her. Then like...days before I am set to do it, he asks me to watch his g/f's dog.

I am not a big fan of that dog.... Straight up. Last time? It came into the living room and took the LONGEST PISS I ever saw a dog piss in my entire life (he also drinks the most water I have ever seen a dog consume.) LUCKILY, there was a rug over the carpet which took most the blast.

So why am I not a fan? He's not a BAD dog at all. He's not. I want that to be clear. He's a curious, energetic fur ball; I do love him. But he will kill nearly anything he gets his hands on. Aka, EXTREMELY hard to control.

He's got me injured FOUR different times while I've been here (and still a few days to go). He's smashed me into the back door three times*, once throwing out my thigh for a day and 1/2, cut my knee. Bruised my knuckle (hurts more than you think...). And the other day, he pulled me so forcefully, I was dragged thru the mud. Have you been DRAGGED thru mud!? It's an experience! He broke his fucking collar, man! I was LUCKY he did not notice until we were inside. Which is where I saw one of the darkest bruises on my knee...also ONE of them (I was gone) ate SOMETHING (they will eat toothburshes), vomited, and then he, again, pissed in the middle of the room (different, easier to clean spot). It's weird: 99% of the time, I will take him out enough or he'll whine to go out. WHY those 2 times now he's done it? I think out of spite. lol <Seriously.>

Cuz this dog is CLINGY. Both dogs are, and both follow me around, but if I sit on the couch or the floor, it wants ALL over me like a bear on honey. I'll even be sitting in a chair, and he'll lay his head on my knee and stay there...forever, I assume. I always ask him to lay down once enough of his slobber from drinking 2 gallons of water starts dripping down my leg. Takes a while...

I just want these dogs to be happy, healthy, and safe, AND myself included in the above. I knew I should've bought a dog whistle from work. I knew it..But does that hurt them? I want to more...stun them to attention. I do care for the crazy fuckers.

My uncle used to have those vibrating collars for them. BUT...they didn't always work. Like. the dogs would outright ignore them. Run blocks away. Across north union st! That's why ALWAYS on a leach with me.

*BTW, full disclosure. I ain't saying he is solely the cause of my injuries. The female dog has FORCE too, and I was taking her out at the same time. See, my uncle has this weird back door where the outside door swings LEFT to the backyard, and the indoor door swings right, so the dogs instinctively RUSH to the left, quickly going around the door, then slamming me into it; 2 times the outside door, 1 time the inside one. I try to keep a tight leach, but those fuckers take off sometimes when they HAVE to go.

Ok. Thanks. Needed to rant cuz...I don't get sick/hurt myself like...ever. Ask anyone. Not a broken bone, lost tooth (minus my wisdom which I regret being conned <It is a con in some situations> into taken out), or organ missing. Besides a random cut or bruise from work occasionally. And that's usually my forearms. So when I feel...different, it irks me. I mean, who enjoys pain? ..... ...Well....THAT is a whole other conversation lol

#dog #dogs #collar #leach #pet #pets #pet stories #animal #dog stories #dogs of tumblr #I am not joking #it has made me reconsider if I ever want kids

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toon-tales · 1 year ago

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There it is! Part two of the Feral Branch fic!

Enjoy and tell me if you have any comments!

Branch has lost count of the trees he's let his anger out on so far, fire shooting from his fists and all the way up to his elbows as a result from banging them against the hard wood, and his hair sticking out in different angles after pulling at whatever branches came in his face. He knew this wasn't right - snapping at his brothers, telling them to leave, only for him to run away as well. And now, he was battered and bruised, sprawled out on the grassy, muddy floor. He closed his eyes, the sound of rain hitting the leaves that were shielding him fading into the background, drowned out by the thoughts racing in his head. He tried to focus on the simple shower pouring, desperately seeking any sort of comfort. He could feel the tips of his hair getting wet, but he was too careless to even think about moving it under his makeshift ceiling, not like it would hurt anyway, he'll just think of it as the shower he hasn't had for a week. He probably stinked, so whatever.

He would be lying if he didn't say that this was the least of his worries right now. All he could think of was the tantrum he just threw a few ago, in front of everyone. What did they think of him now? That he was a beast? A monster? He groaned, trying to push these thoughts to the back of his head.

But they always found a way to resurface. He groaned again, a voice that echoed between the trees as he tried to calm his racing thoughts. He's always hated thinking about more than one object at once. He tried to stop thinking, or overthinking, in his state, but his mind was seemingly battling him, sucking out every ounce of calm and peace he had managed to feel so far.

He was screaming. Why couldn't he just rest? He needed a break, a break from everything, his brothers, the village, life itself, if that was an option. He was pacing around, just like he's done back there, and his hands clutched at his hair as if he was replaying the scene. Except that this time, he was crying, rain mixing with the tears that were flowing down his cheeks. He wanted to run away, more away, and leave them behind, just like they have done to him. A part of him wanted to make them feel the pain he felt, wanted them to go through what he's gone through.

Yet another part wanted to believe that they have all faced challenges as well, that they all suffered. So why did it hurt him so much?

"Branch…?"

He looked up. It was Poppy.

Oh no, it was Poppy.

He quickly wiped away his tears with the back of his hands. She wouldn't notice anyway–

"Have you been crying?" Wasn't the rain supposed to hide the tracks?

"No…"

"Branch, you don't have to lie." She sat in front of him. "At least not to me, baby."

"I'm fine-"

"No, you're not. And what are all these scars?" His girlfriend's touch was gentle, yet Branch winced the moment her fingers traced the red marks on his arms. Some were fresh, blood still trickling down his arms and palms, and some were old, already starting to heal. Some were intentional.

"We need to go back, you're not okay–"

"Please…" He was begging. He never begged. But for his girlfriend? He was ready to beg her to stay with him if it cost him his life. "Just stay with me. I-I don't wanna see them right now."

The Queen was torn at this point, torn between the urge to lead the others to Branch and the vulnerability in his voice. He looked so small, so hurt and broken. She didn't want to cause him more pain.

"They probably don't want to see me…" Poppy had hardly heard him. His voice was muffled as he curled up and buried his face in his hands. "I don't blame them, though..."

"Branch, I know you're hurting," she whispered, softly stroking his hair. "Talk to me, let me help you."

"I don't know!" the dull troll suddenly yelled, causing his girlfriend to flinch. "They hurt me so much! So much, Poppy!"

"I know–"

"I'm tired! Every time I think everything is fine, something comes up! I didn't want them to come, they reopened wounds I've been trying to close for so long! And they're expecting me to be okay! I'm not okay!"

All Poppy could do was listen as her boyfriend poured his heart out. He sounded as if he'd been bottling up his emotions for so long, the way he was crying and stumbling over his words, face scrunched up and arms aimlessly flailing around as he desperately tried to communicate his feelings. But she didn't dare interrupt him, not even to help him explain. He had to talk, he needed to, by himself, and if it meant she had to listen to his incoherent speech, so be it.

"I just want– I don't know!" He went on, the words unconsciously flowing out of his mouth without even making any sense, even to him. He couldn't take it anymore.

"I hate them–"

"You don't," she blurted out, and immediately felt her boyfriend's glare on her. "You don't hate them."

Of course he did. They hurt him, they left and never came back. Even Floyd. And a thought was telling him he wouldn't be in this position right now if it weren't for his brother getting kidnapped. The dull troll closed his eyes. They wouldn't have made the tiniest bit of effort in checking on him, so why can't he hate them? John? John thought he was dead, and Branch tried to force himself that his brother shed at least a tear over him.

But he didn't know, and it only made him more confused and angry.

"I know what it feels like…" His girlfriend smiled sadly, unaware that her voice cut through the mess in his head just in time. "Someone you love hurting you…"

He perked up. Had he accidentally hurt her?

"I-I'm-I-"

"Not you, Branch," she assured him. "Dad…"

It made sense, Branch thought, slightly calming down. At least it wasn't about him anymore.

"He kept my own sister a secret from me, because of his own fear, and… I was the one who suffered the consequences…" She paused. "Do you even know how many things me and Veevs could've done by now, if only I went out there and looked for her earlier? We could've done a million things, Branch, so many things that I fear we don't have much time to do it all now."

He smiled. It was never enough time for Poppy.

"And the whole Trolls tribes thing… we could've united everyone before the Rock Apocalypse thing ever happened… but he kept it from me…" She frowned. "He kept a lot of secrets from me, secrets that could've changed my life, and I was super mad at him for that…"

It seems like he wasn't the only one who needed to be real in this relationship. How long has she been feeling this way?

She waited, and, seeing no reaction, the girl continued. "Sometimes I even fear he might be hiding something else, you know?" She chuckled. "He hurt me, so much… but I never hated him. I could never hate him."

Her father was there, his brothers weren't.

"Because he loves me." Her face slowly lit up, making her boyfriend's do so as well, even if it was barely visible. "I see it in the way he tries to make it up to me every day, and I know that he cares." She reached out, gently taking his dull, cold hands into her bright, warm ones and giving them a reassuring squeeze. "So believe me when I tell you that I know how it feels."

He sighed. "I just feel so lost and confused, you know?"

"I know, love."

He closed his eyes again, his head leaning against the tree behind him. "I don't hate them, I'm just mad…" His head hung low. "They're probably mad, too, and I don't blame them…"

"Stop right there, mister," the pink troll interrupted firmly, "Whoever told you they're mad?"

"Well, I did attack them." He shrugged. "I wouldn't be surprised if they don't want to see me."

"Branchifer." She cupped his face, forcing him to meet her gaze. She made a mental note to keep an eye on him, he was getting warm. "Your brothers have been miserable." She dramatically extended the last word, her fingers stroking his cheeks in an affectionate gesture. "You don't know what they've been through since last week."

"Are… are they okay?"

She smirked. "Worried about them?"

He giggled and swatted her hands away. "Just answer."

"Well, John hasn't been sleeping, Bruce is constantly angry, Clay hasn't read a single book since then, which is, sooo not Clay, and Floyd, well-"

He sat straight. "Is he okay?!"

"I told you, you care about them!"

"Poppy!"

She laughed, her hair tips getting exposed to the rain. "Alright, alright." She composed herself, wiping away the few droplets that had slid down her forehead. "Seriously, though, he's been crying non-stop for days."

"So they're… not mad?"

"Not in the slightest." A beat. "They're mad at themselves."

"They are?" Huh, maybe they did care after all.

"Yeah." She stayed silent for a few seconds, giving her words a chance to sink in. "They've been looking for you since the forest went silent."

Went silent? Then he remembered that he had been lying in this spot for days, and the forest's been silent since then, devoid from his screams and tantrums.

"They're probably waiting inside Rhonda right now," Poppy said with a smile, "Wanna let them know you're okay?"

Maybe that wasn't the best idea. Branch was hiding his face behind his hands again.

"It's okay," Poppy quickly said, "It's okay not to be okay."

He looked at her, and for a second, she swore she saw the broken child he was years ago. "I need more time…"

"It's okay," she assured him.

His head leaned against the shoulder of his girlfriend, seeking comfort only she could provide. He felt better. Poppy always made him feel better.

She suddenly got up, making the head resting on her shoulder almost make contact with the grass. "Get up," she ordered, "You can stay at my place till you're feeling better."

His lips contracted in a hesitant pout. "We'll cuddle?" He asked hopefully.

"We'll cuddle all night."

#Trolls #Trolls fanfiction #Branch #Poppy #Trolls band together #Fanfic #Feral Branch fic

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