#do we like it question mark is it anything

[beomiracles]

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐑𝐋 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅 kinktober day 31

DREAM RECALL “Do you know what happened to the boy who cried wolf?” He asks, letting the question linger on his lips, moving in and out of you slowly as he awaits your response. You shake your head, slowly swallowing. — Yeonjun smirks, a smirk so wide that his sharp fangs dug into his bottom lip.  “The wolf eats him.”

wc -> 8.7k (horribly proofread, means not proofread at all)

pairings supernatural!txt x fem!reader warnings um. everything. dark content, and I mean it. multiple threesomes, heavy dub con/coercion, multiple creampies, unprotected sex, biting, marking, rough manhandling, prey/predator dynamics, anal (f.rec), very little prep at times, throatfucking, facial, reader gets passed around, beomgyu is mean and a menace, softdom!taehyun, softdom!kai, dom!soobin, mean/hard dom!beomgyu, softdom!yeonjun, major character death, implied cannibalism? (sort of, I mean they're not really human but..) hair pulling, reader is lowkey terrefied for half this fic, also half of this is pure filth, um yes dark content cough.

#serene adds ✎ good evening. LMFAO. no. seriously. I um, have been working in this all day because it was at a solid 2k this morning and um, here we are. but I got it out on the 31st (for me) so that's a win in my books, seriously didn't think I was gonna make it. this isn't proofread, I wrote it and I posted, catch a spelling mistake and you close your goddamn eyes. I don't want to know about stuff like that. um is the story its based on obvious or not? let me know !! and also, read the warnings carefully please and thank you, if I've missed anything feel free to let me know :3 now I am declaring celibacy and I won't ever write smut again ! #kinktober killed me

EVENT POST

“And then, she ventured to the dwarves' house disguised as a peddler.” You lean in, the warm fire caressing your face and illuminating the sinister grin on your lips. “But not just any peddler, no, she sold lace, lace corsets.” Your eyes flicker over the confused expressions of your friends, some having frowns dented into their foreheads, but they were all listening keenly. 

“Of course, as a naive and young girl, Snow White let her inside.” You lean back, hands clasping together over your knees. Around you, darkness lingers. It creeps around the edges of the fire you’d ignited, desperately trying to get closer, to swallow you whole. “Snow White lets the Evil Queen wrap her in lace, and the Evil Queen wraps it tight.” You point to your own torso, portraying the tight corset, clawing at your ribs. 

“Snow White can’t breathe, in fact she can barely move.” Your voice turns from dramatic to gloomy, “She can only watch, watch as the Evil Queen steps out, leaving her for dead.” — “That’s not how the story goes!” One of your friends interrupts, and you turn to him with a grimace. “Well, if you’d let me finish Brian, you would’ve known that the dwarves brought her back to life when they found her, by undoing the tight corset”, you sneer. 

“But that wasn’t in the book?” Lily suddenly quips from your left, her lips pursed in the same annoyingly know-it-all manner. With the small roll of your eyes, you reach for a stick, using it to poke at the slowly dying fire. “Well, that’s because you’ve only read the children's version”, you mutter, a bitter taste in your mouth, “in the real story, the Evil Queen tries to kill Snow White three times.” 

Brian interrupts once more, the frown on his face nearly permanent now. “But that doesn’t make any sense, why would Snow White fall for the same tricks over and over?” — “Besides, it would only drag out the entire story telling”, he states as a matter-of-factly. You groan, running a tired hand over your face. “That’s because you don’t know how to build tension, it’s no fun if she only tries to kill her once, you have to amplify it by including multiple attempts.” 

Lily huffs, shaking her head like she’d heard enough. Then she rises to her feet, announcing that she was heading to bed. — “Careful”, you say, causing her to freeze in her tracks as she turns to you with a questioning look. “Don’t you know that there are wolves in these woods?” You grin, eyes trailing her with a humorous glint. She scoffs, waving a dismissing hand as she brushes you off, “I’m sure they’re starving.” 

With that, she ventures off to her own tent, leaving the rest of you to watch the weakening fire as the darkness around you crept closer. 

⸝⸝ 

“Do you really think that there are wolves here?” Kian asks as the two of you scour the thick forest in search of more branches for the fire. The question doesn’t come as a surprise. He’d been walking on needles practically all evening. You knew that he was a coward, so it surprised you when he agreed on joining in for this trip. — “Sure, why wouldn’t there be?” You shrug, trying your hardest to conceal your amusement when he audibly swallows, eyes darting around the dark tree stems. 

“Yeah but they.. They don’t eat people? Right?” He wonders, hands nervously fiddling with flashlight, causing its light to bounce off the claw-like arms of the trees. “Don’t be an idiot, Kian”, you huff, gathering as much firewood as possible in your arms. — “R-Right, sorry”, he murmurs, his cheeks tinted a light pink as he clears his throat. “And even if they did, I’m sure you don’t rank high on their list”, you say, the teasing edge to your voice managing to lighten the mood somewhat. 

You continue to gather materials in silence. Working to get done as fast as possible, eager to return to the warm and inviting fire. The scattered branches crack under your weight, but besides that, nothing. It’s quiet, far too quiet, the sounds of nature seemingly muted. Almost like there was something out there, something even nature itself feared, and so it hid in silence. The thought makes the hairs on the back of your neck stand, and you desperately try to shake it off. 

Your attention turns to Kian, who seems just as miserable, if not worse. A sly smirk tugs at your lips. 

“Wait.” Your voice rings out, piercing the heavy air and your friend immediately freezes. “What?” His head snaps in your direction, fear clouding his eyes and you have to bite back a chuckle. Instead, you swallow, bottom lip stuck out into a pout as you glance around. “Did you hear that?” — “Hear what?” Kian sounds panicked now, the flashlight in his hand trembling as he frantically searches for any evident danger. 

Your gaze drifts to somewhere behind him. There’s only darkness, an eternal and dreadful darkness. But he doesn’t have to know that. — With a nearly ear piercing shriek, you stumble backward. “Oh my god! Behind you!” You point a shaking finger in that very direction and Kian pathetically falls to the ground with a loud scream. He keeps yelling for help as he tears his way through the mud and dirt, running from a faceless monster. 

The sight makes you double over in laughter as you drop half the branches you’d gathered. And only when he’s calmed down enough to make out your excitement over his own fear, does he realize his mistake. — “That was not funny!” He shouts, and his voice trembles just as much as he does. You shake your head, wiping away imaginary tears as you watch him gingerly get up. “Oh but it was!” You exclaim, “You should’ve seen your face!” 

Kian huffs out a frustrated breath, dusting off his jeans as he picks up the flashlight he’d dropped. He turns to you with a small scowl, but it does nothing to simmer down the laughter bubbling within you. 

“I hope those wolves get you next”, he seethes, before turning on his heel and walking off, leaving you in the dark. 

⸝⸝

It’s far into the cold and dark night when the final participants of your small group head for their tents. Unlike Lily, joined by Brian who’d turned in early, the remainder of you had stayed by the fire, taking turns telling chilling tales, none of which were real, of course. Though you’d given your best in trying to scare the others by mentioning the supposed wolves stalking the gloomy forest. Because if there was anything scarier than horror stories, it was the real dangers of the outside world. 

Kian, on the other hand, hadn’t spoken a word to you since you returned to camp. You figured he might still be upset over your small and harmless prank. Though far too tired to deal with it tonight, you decide to confront it in the morning. — To your fortune, you were to share a tent with Lei, who at least seemed willing to talk to you. 

As the two of you settle inside your warm sleeping bags, she turns to you. “Do you really think we’re safe in here?” The question catches you off guard, sure why wouldn’t you be? People camped in this forest all the time. Right? — “Why, did those children’s stories scare you?” You can’t help the teasing tone of your voice, wiggling your eyebrows in a taunting manner as you watch her face scrunch up in disgust. 

“Of course not”, she huffs, pulling the blanket over her chest, “It’s just…The nearest town is an hour away, what if something happens?” — It’s with a bitter taste in your mouth that you consider the fact that she might be right. Help was far away, should anything happen. But who says it would? 

“We’ll be fine”, you shrug, flopping down onto your pillow as you get comfortable. “You think?” Lei whispers as she, too, prepares to sleep. You yawn, breathing out a low, “mhm.” 

A brief silence follows after that, the sounds of your friends, shuffling about in their own tents slowly dying out. All that’s left is the quiet sounds of night, leaves rustling followed by the occasional creek of tree branches as they give way to the wind. — You think Lei might have fallen asleep, but the erratic pattern of her breathing gives her away. 

“I mean, any kind of danger is unlikely to show up at our doorstep”, you then add in a sleepy voice. “Unless…” You trail off, seemingly lost in thought, but the word is left hanging in the air and you soon hear Lei shifting in her sleeping bag as she turns to you. — “Unless what?” She whispers, sounding almost urgent. In the dim light, she’s unable to catch the menacing grin on your lips as you say: 

“Unless you go looking for it.” 

⸝⸝ 

You’d always considered yourself a heavy sleeper. And most nights would pass you by without a single disturbance. You rarely dreamt either. — So when you’re suddenly jolted awake, sweat clinging to your entire body and your breathing labored, you knew that something was wrong. It takes you a moment to regain your bearings, fingers curling against the flimsy material of your sleeping bag as your head whips in the direction of Lei. She’s still sleeping soundly, like there wasn’t a single fault in the world. 

Confused, you glance around the small tent. But everything seemed to be in order. Weird. Oh come on, were you seriously acting paranoid right now? That was Kian’s job. With a small, half-hearted huff, you prepare to lie back down, when suddenly, a voice, somewhere outside, calls for you. — You know that it’s you it calls for, because why else would it use your name. Your mind works overtime as you try and pair the low and almost animalistic drawl of their tongue with one of your friends. But you couldn’t. 

Maybe, you were hearing things, maybe you’d finally gone crazy. No, you shake your head, eyes drifting to your fingers as they twiddle with the zipper of your sleeping bag. But the voice doesn’t give up, and when it calls for you a third time, you finally get up. — You don’t feel fear, only anger. Which one of your idiot friends decided that it was a good idea to pull a prank such as this, at such an hour. 

Yanking the tent open, you crawl out. The night is chilly against your down-dressed body, and the thin undershirt and pants you wore suddenly did little to warm you. With your arms around your chest, you stumble past the other closed tents. There was no one here. You frown, peering out into the dark as you search for whoever had called you. Then your mind suddenly pieces together the evening’s events. Kian. 

With gritted teeth you storm toward his tent. But as your fingers clasp around the zipper to the opening, the voice calls out once more. This time it’s louder, still raspy, and almost…inhumane, but you can clearly make out the syllables of your name. — It’s coming from the forest. Alright, that’s it. If Kian wanted to get back at you, then you’d let him. 

After scurrying back to your own tent and fetching a flashlight, you turn to the dark and gloomy forest. And with only one thing in mind, you cross the barrier taking you into the eerie woods. 

“Kian!” 

Your voice echoes off the tree branches, and the leaves crunch beneath the sole of your shoes with each step you take. The flashlight provides a narrow and minimal view, but you follow it thoroughly, intent on not getting lost. — “Kian, I swear to god, you could’ve done this in the morning!” But there’s never a response. Your empty threats of beheading your friend linger in the thick and quiet air. 

It’s only when you stop, taking a moment to check your surroundings with the use of your shit piece of light, that you realize just how quiet it actually is. Apart from the heavy steps of your own feet, there was nothing. The menacing hurl of the wind, gone. The rustle of leaves, vanished. Wildlife, nonexistent. — You were all alone, and when that realization dawned on you, it became clear that Kian had never come out here in the first place. 

So who called you? 

There’s a slight shift in the air, it grows from thick and dense, heavy with anticipation, to loud and almost dangerous, as if the very forest was trying to alert you of something. And in the distance, in the dark, almost blended together with the trees. A pair of red eyes linger. — Your heart sinks all the way down to your stomach. Something was out there, and that something knew that you were there too. 

An animal of some sort, it must be. But what? You didn’t want to find out. Instead, you take a small step back, the crackling of leaves is deafening and you swallow a small cry. You can’t tell if those red eyes are coming closer, the uncertainty puts you on edge. But a rustle to your left garners your attention. Your head jerks in its direction only to be met by the exact same sight. 

Another pair of red eyes. 

Two? You shake your head, that was impossible, and what kind of animal had red eyes? You were seeing things, you must be. Another rustle, and another pair of eyes, this time to your right. Three? 

This time you can tell they’re creeping closer, slowly, as if sizing you up. You point your flashlight in their direction, swinging it like a sword, as if you stood any chance against whatever lurked in these woods. You take another step back, and soon the eyes are given a materialized form. 

Your jaw slacks, and if you thought that fear was about to consume you before, it was nothing against the bucket of ice cold water just poured over you. — Wolves. Actual and real wolves. But that was… “Impossible”, you breathe, “there are no wolves in these woods.” You blink, shaking your head, praying that this was all a bad dream. 

They were big, bigger than any you’d ever seen before. Their fur is dark and ruffled, torn in places, roughed up from living out in such harsh conditions. The one up front, a dark gray, bares its sharp teeth, a low growl rumbling from its chest as it creeps forward. Their ears are pointed back, and they move with slow and calculated steps, as if circling their prey. The brown ones either side of you draw in closer as well. 

You shout for them to stay back, desperately flashing the light in the bright and fiery eyes. But nothing seems to work. Terrified, you stumble backward, only to trip over a snare and lose balance. — You hit the ground with a loud thud, but before you can get up, a warm puff of air hits the back of your head. You don’t have to turn around, you already know what’s waiting behind you. A fourth. Another one, just like the ones before you. 

There must be a way out. After all, they’re just animals. There had to be a way to outsmart them, to get ahead. Remaining frozen for a few seconds, you find that the wolf behind you makes no move to attack. Why? Why did it hesitate? — You didn’t care, you saw your opportunity and took it. 

Leaves fly everywhere as you scramble to your feet, pointing the bright light in the eyes of the wolf before you. It’s so close that the flashlight momentarily blinds it, opening up your escape route. — From there, you run. You run until your legs feel as if they are about to bend in half, you run until your thighs ache, until your calves burn and until your chest physically hurts. 

You can’t see, even with the light gripped tightly in one hand, your field of vision is limited. You scream, yell, cry out for help. “Wolves!” — “There’s wolves!” Your faint pleas are disregarded by the menacing forest, and its darkness seems eternal. Branches whip at your face, thorns cutting the thin layer of clothes you wore, your shoes drenched in a thick layer of mud. 

How long have you been running for? Shouldn’t you be back at camp by now? Had it not been for the sounds of leaves rustling behind you, indicating that the wolves were still following, you’d probably been on the ground long ago. But you had to keep going. There was no way you could give up now. 

Then you see it. Light, warm and inviting, a flicker of hope. You cling to it, upping your pace as you call out once more. “Help! Please help me!” The closer you get, the brighter the light shines, and the bigger your hopes grow. You can make out a figure, it’s dark shadow standing in stark contrast to the warm fire burning. 

As you approach, you realize that it’s…a cave. Hesitation clouds you, but only for a moment. Then the terrifying dangers of your situation all come crashing down on you. With a final call for help, you burst into the cave. — “Please help me..” You don’t even realize you’re crying, heavy tears flowing down your cheeks as you cling to the stranger, face buried in their chest. 

The feeling of strong arms around you sends a wave of relief through your trembling body as the person holds you tight. “O-Oh my god…You have to help me.. There w-wolves out there!” You sob, fingers clawing at their shirt. Just as the words leave your lips, do you hear it, the sounds of their approach. They were coming. You quickly grow desperate as you cling to the figure, a man, a tall man. “Please, please, we have to go!” 

Your head jerks toward the opening of the cave just in time to see the four wolves entering, and they look ready to eat you whole. “Oh my god we’re going to die, we…” Your words get caught in your throat as you catch the soft chuckle, rumbling deep within the man's chest.  

“There are indeed wolves in these woods”, he then says, his voice is a low, almost animalistic drawl, and you immediately recognize it. It was the voice who’d called for you. Finally you look up, only to be met with a pair of equally red eyes, though these belonged to a human. His dark and ruffled hair reminds you of the fur of those wolves, and the small cut along his chin seems far too uncanny. 

“But you already knew that didn’t you? Isn’t that what you’ve been telling your friends all night.” He says, lips tugging into a sinister smirk as he watches the color drain from your face. “Say, where are they now?” — It was as if all air had been sucked from your chest, your whole body going rigid as you remained frozen in place. 

The man laughs, a cruel and raspy laugh. He shakes his head, “Are you familiar with the saying ‘to cry wolf’?” He then asks, tongue darting out to drag across his bottom lip, and in the warm glow of the fire, you catch the sharp fangs resting in his mouth. Whatever this man was, it was not human. — Quietly you shake your head, the phrase sounded familiar but your mind was far too scrambled to ever make a connection. 

He doesn’t seem bothered by this, in fact he seems to enjoy the process of dragging your inevitable fate out even longer. — His breath is warm against your face as he leans down, and his arms around your body no longer feel safe, but like they could kill you. “Means one too many lies might seal your fate”, he drawls, the sentence hanging in the thick and heavy air. 

You don’t have time to ponder his words, for another voice shatters the brief silence. “Alright, that’s enough. You’ve had your fun Yeonjun, let us have a go now.” — Your head immediately jerks in the direction of the four wolves…except, they weren’t wolves anymore. The one who’d previously spoken up, approaches, the dark brown hair on his head falling down his neck and the sides of his face in an uneven mess. 

Yeonjun scoffs, his arms around you tightening their hold as he shoves you against his chest. “I’ve barely gotten started”, he snaps, “You’ll get your turn, Beomgyu.” — Beomgyu rolls his eyes, seemingly displeased with the other’s answer as he takes another step forward, only to be stopped by a much taller one. His hair was as black as the night sky itself, and the red in his eyes seemed a lot cooler than the fiery one of his friend. “Don’t be an idiot”, he sneers, “as if you’re getting a taste before me.” 

Beomgyu gives the taller a harsh shove, a scowl crossing his features. “Fuck off”, he spits. Next to you, Yeonjun chuckles, “Listen to Soobin, won’t you? Don’t you know that the elders eat first?” — Their conversation made your stomach draw into knots, you had walked right into their trap, without even knowing it. Everything had been planned, down to the very, detail, and you had just let it happen. 

“That’s not fair!” The gray haired one objects as he takes a step forward. “I found her.” — “So what?” Beomgyu turns to him with a grimace, “You wanna play finders keepers? Because that’s fucking childish, Taehyun.” — The frown on Taehyun’s face morphs into one of pure rage as he takes a charging step forward, and he would’ve collided with Beomgyu, had it not been for the fifth one who cut in between the two. 

“At this rate, the sun will rise before we’ve even come to a decision”, he growls, easily shoving them apart as his red eyes flicker over to you. — Yeonjun hums, his fingers splayed across the back of your head as he keeps you close. “Then let’s hear Kai’s suggestion”, he says, his voice laced with a fabricated hint of intrigue.  

Kai shrugs, an almost apathetic look striking his features, the soft brown on his hair made him look far more approachable than his peers. “I say we share.” His simple statement is followed by groans and complaints from the others, all but Yeonjun, who quietly hums to himself. — “I’ve heard humans are quite flexible”, he then adds as he takes another step forward, eyes sizing you up as his hand reaches for you. 

But he never manages to touch you, for Yeonjun pulls back with a small hiss. The once nonchalant and almost soft look of his eyes immediately vanishes as Kai’s entire demeanor changes. “Come on, don’t be greedy”, he huffs, taking another step forward and this time, he’s followed by the others. 

It doesn’t take long for Yeonjun to realize that he’s outnumbered and with a frustrated groan, he loosens his grip on you. Your legs feel as though they might give out any second now, but you remain standing. Eyes darting around the cave, you search for a way out, you didn’t know what these creatures were, and you didn’t care to find out either, all you knew was that you had to get away. And with Yeonjun letting you go, you saw an opportunity. 

Your footsteps echo off the damp cave walls as you tear yourself from his loose grasp, sprinting toward the opening. You don’t make it far until something hard crashes into you from behind, another person. — Groaning you blink as you spit the dirt from your mouth, fingers helplessly clawing at the ground as you will yourself to move forward. But the weight of someone else on top of you makes it impossible. 

Long hair tickles the sides of your face and you shiver as you feel a hot tongue slide against the shell of your ear. Beomgyu’s voice comes out a breathless laugh as he says: “Got you.” — Your scream fills the cave as he flips you over, caging you against the cold and hard stoned surface. His hands move feverishly along your sides, pushing your already torn undershirt up above your stomach, causing goosebumps to ripple across your skin. 

But before he can get any further, he’s stopped by Taehyun as he shoves him off of you. “Sorry about that”, he flashes you an apologetic smile, sharp fangs glinting in the warm light of the fire. The second scream about to rip from your throat gets caught there as he scoops you into his arms, barely managing to dodge Beomgyu as he launches after him. 

He sets you down near the fire, ignoring the complaints of both Kai and Soobin as they argue on taking you deeper into the dark and cold cave. Taehyun shakes his head, “She’ll freeze if we do that”, he mutters, “Don’t you know that human bodies are weak?” — “What so you’re saying we should attend to her every need now?” Beomgyu snarls as he joins Taehyun next to you. “She’s going to end up as dinner anyway, I don’t see the big deal”, he huffs. 

Taehyun rolls his eyes as his hands caress the sides of your arms, the movement is surprisingly gentle and he quickly manages to warm your frozen body up. You gulp as your eyes flicker between their small exchange. — “It’s more a respect kind of thing”, Taehyun explains, “besides, it’ll feel better this way.” His red eyes snap over to yours, desire swirling in the depths of crimson. “You want us to make you feel good, don’t you?” He then asks, fingers hovering above the hem of your thin pants. 

Confused, your lips part, and your nervous gaze darts across the cave. Yeonjun and Soobin linger by the shadows, and had it not been for their glowing eyes, you probably would’ve missed them. Kai on the other hand, sits not far from Beomgyu as he watches you with an almost clouded expression. — Your heart rams against your chest, your whole body has been on high alert for so long that you were bound to collapse at any given moment. 

Shouldn't they have killed you already? Torn you to pieces, buried you alive? Who are these creatures and what did they want from you? The question in itself is hardly up for debate and you swallow thickly, hands digging into the uneven layer of dirt and stone beneath you. Make you feel good? What did that mean? — In any case, it couldn’t be much worse than death, could it? 

Slowly, you nod. And the smirk that stretches across Taehyun’s lips makes a chill slither up your spine. The grip around your arms suddenly becomes firm, but not enough to hurt. “You’ll help us, won’t you?” He drawls, gaze flitting down your sparsely dressed body. “We’ll make you feel good in return.” You didn’t know what his words meant, but you didn’t want to find out what gruesome fate might await you, should you deny them. So you nod once more, uttering a meek, “yes.” 

The smirk plastered on his face only widens as Taehyun presses his warm lips against your cold neck. Your eyes shoot open, hands coming to rest atop his shoulders as you try to push him back, but it was to no use. And soon you feel a warm body joining him as Beomgyu snuck up behind you, his hungry fingers sliding across your sides as Taehyun tugs your leggings down. 

“W-Wait, what’s going…going on?” You stammer, thighs clamping shut around Taehyun’s hand as it slithers between them, fingers insistently pushing against your panties. Were they not about to kill you? Tear your limbs apart and rip your chest open? Why were they.. Your train of thought is interrupted by Taehyun who shoves your panties to the side, pushing two slender fingers inside your unprepared cunt. 

The shrill whine you emit, echoes off the cavern walls and your back arches off of Beomgyu’s chest as his hands, locked over your hips, keep you in place. His breath is warm against your neck, long hair tickling you as he presses wet kisses to your shoulder, fervently tugging your shirt down. 

Taehyun has leaned back enough to where he can clearly watch as his fingers slide between your folds. His thumb on your clit sends a small jolt through your body and your stomach flutters. “More?” He suddenly asks, the question coming out as a low growl and before you can consider his next words, you find yourself nodding. 

Without hesitating, he adds a third finger, shoving them as far as they would go, intent on pulling as many lewd sounds from you as possible. — Behind you, Beomgyu groans, his hands digging into the bone of your hips with a force that was bound to bruise. The outline of his hard cock brushes against your lower back and you shudder as your eyes screw shut. “You’re too slow”, he snarls to which Taehyun shoots him a hateful glare. 

Your head weakly turns in the direction of the others. Soobin and Yeonjun remain hidden in the shadows, the sight of their red eyes piercing through the dark. You can hear them talking, and though you can’t pick up on the conversation taking place, it wasn’t particularly hard to guess as their glowing eyes trailed every inch of your body. — Kai had shifted even closer, his jaw clenched as his gaze strayed by Taehyun’s fingers working your soft cunt open. 

You yelp when Beomgyu suddenly shifts behind you, the sounds of fabric being torn filling the dark space as he tears your panties off. “Enough”, he growls, finally making Taehyun back off as he withdraws his now soaked fingers from your throbbing core. — Confused, you turn to look at him, only to be stopped by Taehyun as his hand clasps around your chin. “Forget about him”, he jeers, nudging your thighs open to make room for himself between them. 

“Give her here”, he barks, arm snaking around your waist as he tugs you from Beomgyu’s grasp. You barely manage to process what’s happening until you’re seated on his lap, your leggings discarded in the process. The cool air makes you shiver, the fire next to you doing little to ease the biting chill of the night. — You find Taehyun already looking at you, one arm possessively wrapped around your torso whilst the other one works on undoing the pants he wore. 

Another pair of hands join in, Beomgyu, you think to yourself, as he lifts you enough for Taehyun to slide the head of his cock against your dripping cunt. You whimper, fingers digging into his broad shoulders as you bite your tongue. Embarrassment and shame creeps up your neck, painting your face a bright read as you force yourself to look away from the prying eyes around you. The others don’t seem to mind, as if this was normal to them. 

With one deliberate thrust, Taehyun eases himself inside of you, groaning when you immediately clench down around him. — “How is she?” Kai’s voice suddenly breaks the momenteral silence, and Taehyun cracks an eye open, though not bothering to even glance in the direction of his friend. “Perfect. Fucking perfect”, he states, eyes hungirly roaming your exposed neck before leaning in to drag his sharp teeth against the skin there. 

“Bet she’s just as perfect from behind”, Beomgyu comments, and the words make you go cold. Craning your head to peer his way, you find him already jerking himself off, thick cock sliding between his fingers as he coats himself in his own arousal. — Your eyes widen when you realize just exactly what he’s planning, quickly shaking your head as you turn back to Taehyun with a pleading expression. 

He returns your helpless call with a small grin, not bothering to tear himself from your neck as he assaults it with his lips, leaving all kinds of red hues in his wake. “You said you’d help us, didn’t you?” He murmurs, as if reminding you of an oath you’d pledged to. You didn’t know what would happen if you refused, the thought in itself scared you more than the creature behind you as he aligned himself with your ass. 

Letting your head fall to his shoulder, you screw your eyes shut, fingers tearing Taehyun’s shirt apart when Beomgyu pushed inside your tight hole without warning. — “Fuck”, he exhales, the warmth of his breath sliding down the side of your face before he presses a kiss to your cheek. “She really is perfect”, he muses, large hands feeling up your chest before he slowly begins to move. 

Their thrusts were uncoordinated and unsynced. When paired with the blaring pain Beomgyu caused, and the nearly unbearably stretch of Taehyun’s cock inside your cunt; you weren’t sure of how long you were going to last. — Above their heavy panting, you catch the soft groan Kai emits as he, too, jerks himself off to the sight before him. 

You whimper when Beomgyu’s fingers pinch your nipples through the thin fabric of your shirt, moaning as Taehyun applies pressure to your fluttering clit. They’re both kissing and biting at your neck, making sure to not leave a single spot unharmed. It felt almost as if you were being torn in half as Beomgyu yanked you backward with each thrust up your ass, meanwhile Taehyun tugged you forward as his cock twitched deep inside of your cunt. 

“Quit being greedy”, Beomgyu snarls as his arm wraps around your abdomen, pulling you flush against his chest. Taehyun huffs out a short breath as his hips jerk forward, hands grabbing at your hips to keep you close. — With one final thrust he releases  inside of your already sore cunt, making sure to fuck his cum back into you deliberately as the soft his of a curse passes his lips. His grip on your waist becomes momentarily weakened and Beomgyu seizes the opportunity as he pulls you into his own lap, slamming your ass down on his thick cock. 

You practically scream at the burning intrusion as your thighs twitch on top of his. Taehyun runs a lazy hand through his hair as he tucks himself back into his pants, eyes trained to the way your tits bounced beneath the fabric of his shirt. — The feeling of sharp fangs, prodding against the already bruised skin of your neck, makes you spiral as Beomgyu threatens to pierce right through your beating arteries. 

You’ve stopped caring for the others, their gloomy and watchful gazes mean nothing when all you can think about is the pleasurable burn, spreading through your body like wildfire. Beomgyu’s touches were nothing like Taehyun’s, there was not an ounce of tenderness, for he didn’t seem to hold that trait. 

He stills inside of you, the warmth of his release spreading inside of you as he cums with a strangled groan. Unlike Taehyun, he makes no move to preserve it further, instead he pulls out, and before you know it, you’re back where you started, on the cold and dirty ground. — Your whole body aches, it feels like you’ve run a marathon, perhaps such a thing would’ve been easier. But before you can get up, Taehyun’s by your side again. 

His slender fingers are gentle as he hoists you into his arms, sending a small glare in the direction of Beomgyu. “She won’t last if you treat her like that”, he argues, cradling your nearly limp body to his chest. When he doesn’t receive a reply, Taehyun’s attention returns to you as he brushes a few strands of hair from your face. “You’re perfect”, he whispers, and though his words were likely meant to reassure you, it gave an opposite effect. But you liked Taehyun, he wasn’t as rough as the others had been. 

Though your peace was short lived, because only moments later, another set of hands came grabbing at you. “My turn”, Kai’s voice is eager, bubbling with excitement as Taehyun hesitantly hands you over, like you were a piece of meat, and Kai accepts you with open arms. — His embrace is…surprisingly warm, soft. When peering up at him through your lashes, you find him smiling down at you, but there was something slightly off about the way his lips pulled into a grin. Something you couldn’t quite place. 

He kisses your forehead, the action just as sweet as the rest of his demeanor. Only when the sounds of approaching footsteps reach your ears, do you tense, and so does he. The looming presence of someone else makes you shiver, and you don’t dare turn your head to see who it was, clinging to Kai as your last string of hope. — “What?” He huffs, but receives no answer from the newcomer as they crouch down next to him. 

“Weren’t you the one to suggest that we share?” Soobin’s gloomy voice echoes off the damp cave walls and you watch as Kai’s expression morphs into a small scowl. “Or did that not apply to you?” He then continues, a large hand reaching up to caress the back of your head. — Kai mutters a few short sentences of incoherent murmur before finally budging. 

“But I want her this time”, he quickly adds, his voice coming out snappy. Soobin raises a dark brow in the younger’s direction. — “It’s only fair”, he whines, “I didn’t get any last time.” His once tender grip on your exhausted body turns into an almost possessive one as Kai tugs you against his chest. 

Soobin seems to be considering his words for a brief moment before giving in with a reluctant sigh, settling back on the ground opposite you as he gets comfortable. Kai on the other hand, wastes no time in pressing his face against the juncture of your neck, inhaling your scent with a satisfied hum. His hands wandered down your body, not caring for the way you flinched as his fingers dipped between your legs. 

Gathering the remnants of your arousal, mixed with the release of both Taehyun and Beomgyu, Kai shoves those very fingers into his mouth, groaning at the taste of you. “More”, he exhales, his free hand already stroking his hard cock, it was flushed a deep red, the tip on the verge of turning purple and you wondered how long he’d edged himself for whilst watching you. 

You whimper in slight protests as he lifts your tired body from his lap, fat cock sliding against your already sensitive cunt, still on the brink of the orgasm you never reached. — Somewhere behind you, Beomgyu and Taehyun shuffled about as they got comfortable by the fire, their red and gloomy eyes never leaving you. Yeonjun remained in the shadows, his lingering presence casting the already dark cave in an eerie glow. 

Soobin on the other hand, is lazily palming himself through the worn out jeans he wore, eyes focused on the way Kai slowly slid inside your fluttering cunt. Your soft moan is swallowed by his lips on your own, and your eyes widen, surprised by the intimacy of him initiating a kiss. — A kiss that was very quickly broken by a hand on the back of your head. Soobin’s fingers curl around your hair as he yanks you back, forcing the two of you apart as Kai whines in disapproval. 

“We don’t do that. Remember?” Soobin grunts, and he’s now looming above you, dark gaze staring you down. — Kai grunts out a short response of “I know”, his attention returning to your neck as he continues to suck at the already red skin, hips stuttering up into your cunt that clenched around him with each thrust. 

You whimper in surprise as large fingers hook around the hem of your shirt. Soobin takes his time, slowly ripping the garment apart as he tears it from your chest. The cool falls across you like a blanket, goosebumps rising on your round tits as your nipples harden under the low temperatures. His hands are on your body within seconds, feeling up every inch of you, squeezing the soft flesh of your chest, rolling your nipples between his fingers. His touches are gentle, nothing at all like Beomgyu’s harsh tugs and you find yourself slowly relaxing. 

But letting your guard down was never a good idea. And soon, Soobin’s hand had traveled all the way to your face, locking around your chin as he tilted your head up. Your eyes widen as they’re met with the sight of his cock, only inches from your already open mouth. — You swallow, trying not to consider the sheer size of it as Soobin shoves his tip against your lips, smearing the pre-cum that had spilled from the slit all over your face. 

You resist a small gag as he slides himself into your hot mouth, your tongue caressing the thick veins pulsing around his shaft as he practically tore your jaw open. — A harsh thrust delivered by Kai makes you whine as you stutter around Soobin’s cock, accidently taking him even deeper, causing him to groan above you as his hand slides down the back of your head. 

“F-Fuck, you really are perfect”, Kai breathes, sweat clinging to his forehead as his hand lays splayed across your stomach, pressing down hard enough to where he can feel the outline of his cock pumping in and out of you. — You can barely see through the tears pooling in your eyes as Soobin continues to fuck your throat, forcing you to take him so deep that you thought you might be sick. 

Yet you find yourself reaching out, searching for something to hold onto, your hands landing on Kai’s shoulders. He groans as he feels your nails digging into his skin, tongue dragging across your collarbones as he sucks red marks on to your chest, continuing the pattern left by Beomgyu and Taehyun. The two were currently watching you intently, Beomgyu lazily stroking himself as he whispers something only for Taehyun to hear, and Taehyun grimaces at whatever was being said though he doesn't make any further comment on it. 

Even though you couldn’t see him, you could feel Yeonjun’s presence, lingering by the outskirts of everything taking place, watching from afar. The mere thought of him made your blood run cold. Instead you try to focus on relaxing, unclenching your jaw as you let Soobin use your throat as he pleases. Every twitch of his large cock on your tongue made you gag, but there was little room for any protests and so you endured. 

His hand in your hair keeps you in place, your neck bent at his will. The erratic rhythm of his hips, once force and harsh, turn sloppy and almost lazy. With a small hiss he pulls back, just enough to where his tip rests on your tongue as thick ropes of cum coats your waiting mouth. Your eyes screw shut as he tilts your head down, coating your cheeks in his release, making the heavy liquid mix with your tears as it slides down your cheeks. 

The salty aftertaste lingers on your tongue as you with a trembling hand wipe your lips. Not bothering to tend to you further, Soobin steps back to join the others by the other side of the fire. Your eyes follow his retreating figure, confused by his sudden dismissal, but Kai’s strained groan as he fucks up into you, quickly snaps your attention back to him. 

His eyes are bleary, glazed over in adoration as he peers up at you. “You’re so pretty”, he sighs, “the prettiest one yet.” You didn’t know what he meant by that, you figured it was best not to ask. You remain silent, biting your tongue as you feel your orgasm approach for a second time that night. — Kai wasn’t late to catch on, his fingers moving down to where your bodies joined, thumb pressing against your throbbing clit. 

The tears you had just managed to stop, resurfaced in an instant as you clung to him. It didn’t take long for you to finally tip over the edge, your mind spiraling as your cunt clenched around Kai’s cock with a newfound vigor. You hear him groan, but the sound is a faint background noise, it gets lost in the deafening and ringing sound, filling your ears. All you can think about is the immense shockwaves of pleasure pulsing through you. 

Your grip on Kai’s shoulders grows weaker by the second, until you’re no longer able to hold yourself up. Your eyes grow heavy as fatigue washes over your drained body. The warmth when he finishes inside of you is faint, not nearly as rough or palpable as the others, and before you know it, everything is dark. 

It’s dark for an eternity, you think it might never end. Was this death? Being cursed to an eternal darkness, unable to feel, unable to think, unable to speak. This couldn’t possibly be it. There had to be more. — You tell yourself that there was something else, something greater waiting for you. This wasn’t where you died. That didn’t even make any sense. 

And slowly, you begin to feel again. The rough and cold texture of stone and dirt, it envelops your body, your body that aches, it aches and burns. You tear your eyes open, thinking that maybe it had all just been a bad dream, a very, very, bad dream. But you’re met with the same cold and dark cavern walls, they’re laughing at you, the walls. They’re looking down on you. 

You feel exposed under their gaze, naked and cold. Afraid. Kai is nowhere to be seen, nor is Soobin, Beomgyu or Taehyun. Your head pounds as you gingerly try to sit up, your arms trembling under the mere weight of your upper body. You collapse against the hard stone once more, feeling as though you’d been drained of life. 

It’s quiet, far too quiet, just as quiet as the forest had been. Something lingered here, something that scared even nature itself. It’s then you hear it, the soft rustle of someone else, moving through the shadows. — Red eyes cutting through the darkness, sharp as daggers. And soon enough, Yeonjun emerges from the dark. He moves slowly, taking his time as he approaches your unmoving figure, sprawled out on the floor. 

The fire wasn’t nearly as strong anymore and a different kind of gloom had settled over the cold and wet cave. — When he reaches you, he crouches, bringing a gentle hand out to brush your hair back. “Poor girl”, he hums, “Should’ve known better than to go out in the woods all by yourself.” His voice comes out as the same low and animalistic drawl he’d used to lure you out in the first place. 

You barely notice it when he flips you over, tugging your lifeless body over, making your naked back scrape across the rough stones. His hands spread your thighs apart, eyes trailing over the bruises left on your hips, on your chest, your neck, your arms. — He sighs, shaking his head, like he was disappointed with what he saw. “This is what I get for letting them go first”, he murmurs to himself, the back of his hand swiping away the remnants of cum that stained your cheeks. 

“But you’ll help me too, won’t you?” He then says, and the tone he uses is one so sweet, your stomach almost flutters. Slowly, you nod, lips parting in a reply you never get to utter as Yeonjun presses the tip of his cock against your overstimulated and bruised cunt. Your soft gasp bounces off the walls of the cave, followed by a wanton moan as Yeonjun slowly slides inside your warm core. You’re the warmth they’ve all been looking for, the only thing that kept the cold out. 

He hovers above you, red eyes boring into yours, but they’re not menacing like Beomgyu’s, not filled with adoration like Kai’s, they’re… It’s like they’re looking right through you, baring you open and dwelling deep into your mind, gauging out the darkest of secrets that you kept there. — Yeonjun moves slowly, with deliberate and drawn out thrusts as he feels you clench around him, thighs twitching with every wave of pleasure. 

“You should know better than this, shouldn’t you?” He drawls, relishing in the way your eyes widen at his words. — “So keen on warning your friends, but you forget to keep yourself safe.” He sounds almost sad, melancholic, as if he was grieving you already. But then his expression turns dark, darker than anything you’d ever seen before, and his hips snap against yours. “Or were you?” 

You shiver, avoiding to look at him as your head falls to the side, eyes drifting over the slowly dying fire, the last sparks of life, slowly descending. You felt oddly connected to that fire. A strange spark of resemblance perhaps. — But Yeonjun’s slender fingers around your chin, pulls you back, forcing your hopeless eyes to meet his. 

“Do you know what happened to the boy who cried wolf?” He asks, letting the question linger on his lips, moving in and out of you slowly as he awaits your response. You shake your head, slowly swallowing. — Yeonjun smirks, a smirk so wide that his sharp fangs dug into his bottom lip. 

“The wolf eats him.”

His statement makes your heart drop, realization slowly clawing its way through your clouded mind. The fear was evident on your face, you could tell by the way Yeonjun’s eyes lit up, a newfound hunger swirling within them. — He leans down, sharp teeth scraping across your neck, just like all the others had, but this time, it’s with a promise of death. 

But despite the dangers of your situation, your body keeps on inviting him in, letting him feed on your fear and arousal as Yeonjun continues to pump his hard cock in and out of your throbbing cunt, and you enjoyed every twisted second of it.

For a moment, you thought about your friends, you thought about them, quietly sleeping in their tents, blissfully unaware of the cruel beings surrounding them. You thought about what might take place the following day, a day you were sure you wouldn’t get to experience. You wondered if they would be looking for you, you wondered if they would care. There was so much you had yet to do, but when you try and think of something, anything, your mind goes blank. 

Perhaps you were done. Perhaps this was it. 

You choke out a sob as Yeonjun bites down on your shoulder, hard enough to draw blood. The stinging sensation is followed by the warm feeling that spreads through your stomach as his hips jerk forward one last time, filling your cunt for the third time that night. This time, it felt like the last. 

And Yeonjun doesn't move after that. He keeps you close, inhaling your sweet scent, clinging to your warm body, listening to your beating heart. He doesn't pull out, not even when he lifts you into his arms, cradling you like you were made out of porcelain. It felt comforting, almost like a goodbye. 

Then you hear it, the sounds of footsteps approaching. And soon, the others re-enter the cave. Four sets of glowing eyes, all peering down at you. It’s impossible to read their expressions in the dark, so you didn’t bother. Your attention remains on Yeonjun, blinking slowly when he brushes your hair back a final time. 

“You’ll help us once more, won’t you?” He says, the request coming out as nothing but a short whisper. In the darkness of the cave, you find yourself nodding once more, giving yourself up one last time. Yeonjun smiles, and it’s as close to a genuine smile as he could ever get. — And as the others approach, the echoes of their steps ringing in your ears. Yeonjun leans down, warm breath ghosting over your face. The last thing you feel are sharp fangs, piercings through the skin of your neck, deep enough to where all air left your lungs. 

It became dark after that. And it was dark for an eternity. 

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[sammylkcho]

Please.. Forgive me.

Warnings/Notes: vague descriptions of dismemberment, descriptions of gory scenes, angst, deaths, anxiety, intrusive thoughts, mentions of suicide, more questions than answers

"I'm sure we’ll be able to get out of this, especially with Painter’s help.. distracting those disposables Urbanshade brings so we can grab the crystal" you said in a cheerful voice, swinging your legs back and forth from the box you were sitting on.

Sebastian let out an uncomfortable hum, his attention glued to the files marked "CLASSIFIED" in bold letters. He was pouring over the documents without even a glance away, barely even pausing to breathe. You’d seen him work himself to exhaustion like this before, sometimes even passing out from the strain. Secretly, you were starting to worry he’d begin hallucinating from the lack of sleep.

Your face unconsciously tightened into a frown, and your lips pressed into a thin line as you noticed his anxious habit—running a hand through his hair and trying to tuck it behind his fins. It reminded you of when he’d always push the hair falling down each side of his face behind his ears back when he was (well, still is) human.

Quickly replacing your frown, you kept chatting away about all the things you could do once you were back on the surface. You mentioned how living by a nice beach could be a fresh, relaxing start for both of you after everything. Painter could even capture the beauty of the sunsets there.

There was no sign he was listening, but you knew his mind was elsewhere. Still, you kept talking—it was a surefire way to help calm your own nerves.

Listening to Painter ramble on about whatever he liked—a new drawing or sketch he’d made, or even just complaining about the disposables—was one of the only things that could ground you, helping keep you tethered when your thoughts began to consume you. Somehow, it both soothed you and brought back all the anxieties you were left with at the end of each day.

Sometimes Painter noticed the shifts in your mood and asked about them. Usually, you didn’t tell him anything to avoid worrying him, letting him continue his usual ramblings, but today was one of those rare moments when you let a thought slip.

“.. Are you alright? I started complaining about Sebastian, and you didn’t even jump in to defend him or argue about it” he noted, trying to keep the worry in his tone hidden. Being soft or consoling wasn’t something his programming was used to after all his time in a place like this.

You looked down, trying to find the right words to explain to the AI the emotional mess you were in now (and, honestly, always) and to make him understand, even just a little.

“It’s just... Is it wrong that I’m becoming numb to someone dying? I used to feel sick, to gag whenever I saw a disposable’s corpse, and now it doesn’t faze me—their deaths or the brutal injuries. It’s like it doesn’t gross me out at all. I think picking through bodies with Sebastian is getting to me...” You chuckled softly, though it was more out of hollow irony than anything.

“And besides, it’s hard trying to help Sebastian when he only lets me tend to the disposables that end up here. Other than that, he doesn’t let me help him physically or mentally.”

You ran a hand through your hair, trying in vain to calm yourself or slow down the racing of your thoughts. You felt your breathing grow ragged, your hands shaking beyond your control as if they were reacting all on their own.

“It’s exhausting... I want to help him a little because I know the hell he’s dealing with, but I also have no idea what goes through his head, especially when he won’t tell me the full story.”

Your voice wavered, your teeth chattering as a tremor started to take over your body.

“He tells me I can’t help him when I can’t even help myself. I can handle my mess and his at the same time; I know I can.”

You could hear Painter’s voice saying something, but it didn’t register.

“I know I can do it, I’m fine. I wouldn’t get tired of hearing his complaints or thoughts.”

There was Painter’s voice again. What was he saying?

“I can handle it, I’M FINE—”

“You’re bleeding!”

Painter’s voice came through the old computer speakers so loudly you swore it sounded distorted.

You tasted something metallic on your lower lip, and your tongue quickly recognized the taste of blood when you licked it, realizing what it was.

You looked down at your hands, now stained red, with the indents of your nails pressing into your palms.

When you blinked, trying to focus on your surroundings, you noticed your eyelashes were wet, and your cheeks felt uncomfortably damp. You had been crying too.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to… Sorry.” You didn’t even know why you were apologizing or what for. You just felt the need to after putting poor Painter through this, letting him see you unraveling over your anxieties, showing him this sorry state.

“It’s okay... Just.. do you want to talk it over more calmly?” he asked, his words sounding a bit awkward as he wasn’t sure what to say or do.

You quickly shook your head, wiping your tears away with your sleeve. You braced your hands against the floor to stand, relying on it to steady you because your legs were still trembling. You didn’t trust yourself to get up without some support, given how shaky you still felt.

Before Painter could say anything else, you left as quickly as you could, trying to drown out the voices in your head blaming you for burdening him, for voicing your problems aloud. You didn’t deserve even his pity.

You were pathetic—worse than pitiful.

You couldn’t even bring yourself to show up at Sebastian’s shop, the place you called home.

You sprinted quickly into one of the rooms down the long hallway you’d been running through. Instinct drove you under the desk in the wide room, both hands clamped over your mouth and nose to stifle the sound of your heavy, panicked breathing. You needed to hide from this monster.

Scenes of the person you were escaping from replayed in your head like a film.

It was just another disposable who’d somehow made it this far while you’d been with Painter. You’d spotted him at a distance in a dark room before the voices over the speakers cut through the silence, alerting you and the disposable who was now only inches away from you.

“There’s another person inside the facility. They violated company regulations and are complicit with Z-13. Their elimination will yield twice the initial reward.” The HQ voice blared through the speakers, making you gasp when it mentioned your name.

You’d forgotten that some of the cameras still worked throughout the facility, likely monitoring the disposables and reporting on what was taking them down along the way.

The moment you took a step forward and your footfall echoed across the room, you felt a burning gaze on the back of your neck. Without daring to look back at the person behind you, you took off running, a prey fleeing from its hunter.

The sound of a missed gunshot made your blood run cold in an instant. You didn’t even want to ask how he got a weapon, but he had one—and you were completely defenseless.

That’s what brought you here, crouched under the desk, silently praying to God that, just this once, he would listen and spare you from this person.

You prayed to God, to Eyesfastion, hoping they’d appear out of pure chance and force him to look them in the eyes. Or for an Angler to come roaring through the rooms, Chainsmoker to slow his steps. Any miracle.

Of all the times you’d wanted to be six feet under, wished for death to just take you already, this time you didn’t want to go. No matter how often you’d begged for death to come, this time, you wanted to live.

You held your breath, clamping down on it entirely when the sound of firm footsteps filled the room where you hid.

Closer and closer.

The desk creaked as something leaned against it. He was mere inches away. You could hear his breathing and the clank of the gun as he set it on top of the desk.

Your shaking eyes drifted to the glass in front of you, showing a view of the vast, deep ocean no other human besides Urbanshade could ever witness at such depths. Due to your crouched, hidden position under the desk, you couldn’t see your own reflection in the glass, but you could see his. A sharp gasp escaped you when you saw the appearance of your hunter.

His gaze immediately dropped downward as your gasp echoed through the room. His hand swiftly gripped the gun before he moved around to the back of the desk.

Sebastian was tucking away documents and small DNA samples he found into the neoprene suit of the now-deceased expendable, also grabbing the unused batteries. He stored everything in the small pouches strapped along his tail.

When he finished organizing everything and made sure it was all in place, he started heading back to his tent, the quick thought of seeing you there to talk non-stop just to fill the ever-present silence. A humorous smile crossed his face; this time, he’d make sure to join the conversation.

The door indicator’s number flashed, crackling quickly, before the face of Painter appeared on the screen.

"SEBASTIAN."

The AI’s shout disoriented him for a couple of seconds, leaving him confused by its sudden appearance. Painter usually waited until Sebastian visited him in his usual location to relay any messages, so seeing him appear here and shout was odd.

"What’s going on? I’m doing inventory on the expendables, so you can tell me whatever you need later, you stupid—"

"Shut up, you filthy fish, and get to room 65. They’re in danger."

The mention of your name and that you were in danger ignited something inside him.

You had already mastered the dangers of this place, even if you still trembled with fear after an Angler encounter. What had stopped you now?

He didn’t take the time to respond to the AI, instead moving as fast as his instincts could carry him to the room number. He knew the place like the back of his hand and was only six rooms away—just a little more, and he’d be there.

He was greeted by a wide hallway and the stench of blood, sharply invading his senses and nostrils. The smell was sickening, but he could bear it for a few minutes—though this time, it felt disturbingly familiar.

The stench led him to a room where he immediately noticed blood-stained glass, crimson trails streaking downwards. The sight disgusted him more than anything else, for no clear reason.

His third hand moved to his three-barreled shotgun. Although he heard nothing, something told him that wasn’t a good sign.

His breath caught entirely when two bodies came into view, and he recognized yours immediately, even though he tried not to.

You were covered in blood, both your own and your attacker’s. Dried blood streamed from your nose, bruises becoming clear against the pallor of your skin. You had two gunshot wounds: one in your stomach and another in your leg.

Then he looked at your attacker.

The blood on the attacker’s face made it hard to see him clearly, but gray hair and a graying beard showed through wrinkles and lines that marked his features.

He had also been shot, but his wound was on the forehead, and there were a series of scratches on his neck, arms, and face—made with fierce aggression.

Sebastian could almost picture the possible scenario that led to all this.

A fleeting thought crossed his mind, wondering if your pulse might still be beating, but it vanished as quickly as it came.

He heard no breath, no desperate gasping for air. Nothing.

The silence terrified him; you were supposed to fill that silence with words, turn that "nothing" into "something."

Had your attacker enjoyed your suffering? Had he even regretted, at any moment, the shots he’d fired at you? Had he seen you lifeless and felt fear at his mistake? Would he have slept soundly knowing he’d killed you?

No.

No, he didn’t believe it.

He would have made him regret being alive. He would have killed him in a worse way than he killed you.

He would have made him swallow his own teeth, fingers, and scraps of skin while he was still alive. Being alive would have been its own torture.

More than anything, he wanted to avenge you, to have done something so that this repulsive creature hadn’t killed or tortured you, even if in some "stupid" way.

…

He needed you.

[sxgakookie]

Summary: Your husband has found your behavior to be annoying at best, and he knows exactly how to make sure you’re back in line. Genre: Smut (dom! and mafia!Yoongi x reader) Rating/Warning: Adults Only (Strong language, explicit sexual content including dom-sub roles, anal sex, sex toys, oral sex [f receiving], unprotected sex, light choking, spanking, praise kink, daddy kink, degradation kink, and male orgasm, brief aftercare.) Word Count: ~ 2.5k

When Yoongi walked into the bedroom, he was happy to see that you obeyed him for the first time that day. You, his beautiful wife, had acted like a brat since that morning. Whiny, demanding, spoiled, calling his office and interrupting meetings. He knew he spoiled you, and in all honesty, he knew he’d continue to do so. Being the wealthiest crime leader in Korea allowed him to. A closet of designer clothes, the best vacations and the most expensive restaurants for your date nights together. But when you acted like a brat, he knew he needed to discipline you properly and remind you of your place. He was your husband, and he demanded respect. 

You were bent over in the center of the bed, with your head resting down in the soft pillows. Your eyes were covered with a silk black blindfold, preventing you from seeing anything. You wore only black lace panties, with your breasts exposed. The panties themselves were a revealing pair of thongs, presenting your body for your husband to use as he liked. You waited patiently, as Yoongi rolled up the white sleeves of his button-up dress shirt. 

“What a fucking slut.” He murmured, walking over with the tap of his shiny black loafers hitting the floor. He caressed the soft skin of your bottom, before grabbing a handful to grope you properly. “You’ve been a real fucking brat today, honey. Did you know that?” 

“Yes, sir.” You mumbled. 

“Louder.” He demanded, earning you a harsh smack on your ass. 

“Yes, sir!” You repeated louder, feeling your skin grow hotter after the hit. 

“That’s better.” Yoongi said, walking away to go to the special drawer of your shared dresser. Your ‘toy box’, he often referred to it. “Speak up when I ask you a question. When you’re bratty, you know I don’t have a choice but to discipline you. What are the rules of your punishment, honey?” 

“Red light means stop. Yellow means we need to take a break. Green means go ahead.” You repeated your previous lessons. 

“Very good.” Yoongi said, kneeling on the bed behind you. “So it seems like you can listen when you want to.” 

Your breathing picked up in anticipation with your husband being so close to you. You hadn’t had disciplinary sex in quite some time, and you knew your husband enjoyed bringing you to your breaking point. Yoongi loved watching you sink deeper into your submissive headspace, as he coaxed all the attitude out of you, leaving you fucked out and compliant. 

“You’ll receive 20 spankings.” Yoongi’s tone sounded nonchalant, teetering on boredom. “You’ll thank me after each one, understood?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“Very good.” He nodded, starting off with another soft caress of your skin, before landing down a hard, loud SMACK onto your skin. 

“Thank you, sir.” You cried, feeling your skin sting. 

Another. “Thank you, sir.” Another. “Thank you, sir.” Another. “THANK YOU, SIR.” You sobbed, feeling the hot sting of your skin. 

“Color?” He paused, looking at the bright red marks your ass. 

“Green, sir.” You responded, gripping the sheets. 

“That’s my good girl.” He hummed, continuing his assault on the soft skin of your ass. 

Yoongi grew hard in his slacks, watching as you took each hit. He loved disciplining you, and loved how quickly your body reacted to it. You melted so easily, complying with thanking him, as he could see the wetness growing between your legs. You loved it just as much as he did.

“One more.” He said, placing one more hard hit onto your ass. 

“Thank you, daddy.” You whimpered. 

“You did very well.” Yoongi praised. Your skin was red, glowing with his punishment. “I’m going to remove your panties now.” 

You felt the fabric slide down your thighs, and stopped right where your knees were. Not taken off any more, just enough to allow your husband access to what he needed, and to expose your body to his eyes. 

Then, you felt his fingers and the cold metal of his wedding ring caressing the wetness of your opening. You let out a quiet “ah!” in surprise. 

“Settle down.” Yoongi’s deep voice said. “Be good, hold still, and take what I give you.” 

A finger, at a painfully slow speed, breeched your entrance. Your lips parted in response, but no noise came out. Only deep breaths, feeling him fuck his finger in and out of you. Rough, calloused skin of his hand pleasured you, creating more sensations as he added more digits. 

“Daddy…” You moaned. 

“Daddy?” Yoongi’s smirk was practically audible. “That’s what I like to hear. Is my sweet girl coming back to me?” 

“Daddy, I wanna cum.” You said, ignoring his question. 

“Tsk.” Yoongi responded. “Even after your spankings, you’re still being a brat.” 

He pulled his fingers from your opening, causing you to whine at the loss of contact. You felt so empty without him inside of you. Moments went by without any contact, driving you crazy, until finally, you heard the pop of a bottle cap opening. 

“Brats don’t get their pretty little pussy’s played with.” Yoongi said, shaking his head as though you could see him. “That's for good girls. But you haven’t been a good girl, have you, angel?” 

Just then, something wet and cold on the soft skin of your ass. Metal. Round. A plug. Yoongi found your anal plug in your “toy box”, and slowly began working it into your hole with the help of wet lube. 

“Relax, baby.” Yoongi encouraged, giving your cheeks soft kisses as he slid the the plug in a little deeper. “Open your ass for me…. Good girl. Breathe in, now back out. That's my good girl. Color?” 

“Green, sir.” 

“Good.” He gave your skin a playful nibble, before sliding the plug in completely. You gasped and your toes curled at the stretch. You kept your ass spread for him, knowing it’s better to do so until he says otherwise. “It’s been a while since I’ve chosen to give your ass a good fucking, hasn’t it, honey?” 

“Yes, sir.” 

“When you act like a brat, you get fucked like a brat.” Yoongi explained, pushing and pulling on the plug just enough to drive you mad. “You get fucked like a slut. Bent over for me with your legs and ass spread open, giving me your sweet little holes to stick toys in. What a dirty, slutty girl. Already dripping down your legs."

Yoongi’s voice was heavy with arousal, and before he could stop himself, he licked up the soft skin of your thighs. You shuddered at the feeling of his wet tongue, gathering your wetness to taste, and working his way to the source, pressing a soft lick to your pussy. 

“Daddy…” You whimpered. 

Yoongi had reached into his own pants, palming himself to the erotic scene before him. You tasted delicious, and he lapped at your pussy like it was his favorite drink. He sucked, kissed, licked and nibbled different areas of your sex as he saw fit, creating a collage of pleasure on your skin, and you responded accordingly. You gripped the sheets, you curled your toes, you deepened your breathing. Yoongi listened to every last whimper, whine, gasp and moan, drinking it in alongside the sweetness of your pussy. 

“Daddy… Gonna cum for you…” You whimpered, earning a pressured lick to your clit. “Daddy… Fuck…Please don't stop, love your fucking tongue so much…” 

Yoongi knew you were close to the edge by your babbling. He continued his sweet flicks onto your sensitive clit, bringing you closer and closer to a high. But right at your legs began to shake, and your sweet noises became louder… he stopped. An almost evil smirk appeared on his face.

“No!” You cried, feeling so, incredibly frustrated by your stolen orgasm. “Daddy, please! Please, I need to cum.” 

“Brats don’t cum whenever they want to.” Yoongi’s deep voice said as he began fully undressing himself. He wrapped his own hand around his remarkably hard erection, and slowly pumped himself to relieve some of his own ache. “You’re using your polite words now, baby. That’s good. What do sweet girls say when Daddy gives their pussy’s kisses?” 

“Thank you, Daddy.” You said, voice in a clear pout. 

There she is. Yoongi thought.

Yoongi slowly, gently, began to remove the plug from your ass, making you want to cry at yet another place no longer feeling full. 

“Shhhh, I know, baby.” Yoongi reassured you, speaking gently as he knew your bratty behavior was slipping away, making way for your submissive side. “I'll give you what you need, baby. Promise.” 

When you were no longer filled at all, Yoongi took his hard cock that was desperately throbbing, and lined up his red, frustrated tip with your opening, letting it rest on your cheek. 

“Gonna fuck your ass tonight, baby.” He whispered, staring at the way you waited so patiently for him. “Breathe for me, ok?” 

You did so, feeling his cock sink into you. It made you feel so full. Your husband’s length was large and thick, with textured veins that you could feel, no matter where he decided to breech you. As he pushed further, he let out a deep fuck from under his breath. The lube from the plug helped him slide in well, and he could feel every inch of you as he penetrated further. 

“Gonna fuck the brat out of you.” Yoongi growled, his length throbbing against your walls. “Gonna make sure you remember who the fuck you’re talking to.”

“Daddy, please.” You whined, as he began pushing himself in and out of your ass. You weren’t sure what you were begging for, but the feeling of his dick properly taking your ass for the first time in so long was almost overwhelming. 

“Take my cock, baby. Settle down and fucking take it.” He groaned, throwing his head back and gripping your hips tightly to keep your body in place. The sound of his skin slapping against yours echoed across the large mansion bedroom. “Whose pretty fucking hole is this, baby? Hm?” 

“Your hole, Daddy.” 

“Such a good girl. What belongs in this hole?” 

“Your cock.” You squeaked out. 

“That’s right, baby. So fucking smart.” He growled. “But that’s all you need to know, isn’t it baby? I pay for your clothes and shoes, pay the rent and bills, and get rid of anyone who fucking looks at you. All you need to worry about baby, is giving me a pretty little hole to fuck and speaking sweetly.” 

“Daddy, thank you…” You cried, feeling the friction strongly now with every push and pull of his hips. 

“I can tell I’m fucking the brat out of you.” Yoongi chuckled, bucking his hips. “You’re gonna listen, aren’t you baby? Gonna be my good girl?” 

“Yes, Daddy.” 

“All it took was your husband’s cock up your ass to get you to act right.” He tsked, placing another smack to your cheek, causing you to squeal. Yoongi moved your body so that you laid flat on your tummy, allowing him to press deeply into you as he laid on top. His arm snuck between your hips and the mattress, letting his fingers find your clit to play with. Yoongi’s lips were to your ear, so that he could whisper things more closely, and you could feel the warmth of his breath. 

“Ah!” You cried, feeling the soft pressure on your clit, combined with the rough pounding from behind. It made your head spin, the differences of how Yoongi could touch you. 

“Who makes you feel like that, baby?” He whispered in your ear. “Hm? Who makes your pussy that wet?” 

“You, Daddy.” 

“And don’t you ever fucking forget it.” His deep voice growled. “I love to spoil you when you’re listening to me, baby girl. That means letting you make a mess of the bed sheets.” 

He could feel you dripping onto the expensive cotton sheets, driving him crazy. He could hear your deep breaths and whimpers, and feel how close you were to an orgasm. 

“I wanna see you cum.” He finally said, wrapping a hand around your throat gently, just enough to give himself more control. “I know you need to, angel. Let go, and show me what a dirty, messy girl you are.” 

“Ah! FUCK... Love your fucking cock... SHIT...” You shrieked, gripping the sheets. You soaked the bed, crying as you came intensely. Yoongi tenderly peppered kisses to your cheeks, and slowed the harsh pounding to more delicately work you through your orgasm. 

“Good girl.” Yoongi whispered into your ear, pressing more kisses to your face. 

“Thank you for letting me cum, Daddy.” You whispered, a few tears still falling. 

“There’s my girl.” He whispered. “So polite, and so goddamn pretty, cumming so well for me. We’re gonna finish your discipline, ok? But first, give me a kiss.” 

You turned your head so Yoongi could connect your lips to his. As he did, he untied your blindfold, and threw it to the side. His eyes met yours for the first time that session, and as he pulled away, he wiped a tear from your eyes. 

“You’ve been so good tonight.” Yoongi praised, his hips beginning to pick up. “Look at me while I fuck you. Keep your eyes here, I’m gonna cum in your perfect little hole.” 

“Yoongi…” You whimpered, using your husband’s name for the first time that night. 

“Look at me, honey.” He reminded you, keeping his hand on your neck, squeezing gently. “Good girl… Let me see how pretty you look while I cum…” 

With only a few more pushes and pulls of his hips, and a soft kiss to your lips, Yoongi groaned as he emptied himself into you. You could feel his length twitch as he finally released, sighing into the kiss. 

“I love you, honey.” He whispered, deepening the kiss. 

“Love you, too.” You responded. 

“Let’s get you cleaned up, angel.” He whispered, brushed a lock of hair from your sweaty face. “Was I too rough with you, honey? Did I really hurt you? Did I say something wrong?” 

You shook your head no, planting a sweet, quick kiss to his lips. 

“I like it. All of it.” You reassure him. Being married to Yoongi meant being used to his dominant side, both in and out of the bedroom. It was a turn on for you, especially when he switches afterwards to treat you so delicately. It was something only you knew about, as you were the only one who knew him so intimately to see it. 

Yoongi, as exhausted as he was, still made sure to bring you to the bathtub and let you soak your sore muscles away while he changed the sheets, giving you both a fresh place to sleep. When you were finished cleaning up, he gave you a shirt from his side of the closet to put on, large enough on your body to act as a nightgown with nothing underneath. 

You settled in to bed, and fell asleep as he took a shower. Yoongi slipped on a clean pair of boxers, and crawled into bed with you, pulling your sleeping figure into his arms. 

“Love you so much angel.” He whispered, before planting a soft kiss to the top of your head. 

[dragonoffantasyandreality]

Captain Scarlet and the Singing Squadron - Chapter 3: "Singing" Squadron

(Prologue, Chapter 1, Chapter 2 -p1, Chapter -p2, ...)

I'm back! >:3 And with my new free time, I finished up this chapter's illustration :3

@uniwolfcorn @teapotteringabout @skymaiden32 @knyee @janetm74 @the-original-sineater @thundergeek59 @riallasheng @mariashades @yarol2075 @etrnlvoid @llamawrites @river-sam2 @coco9728 @hebuiltfive @thalassastra @bassic-ally @pareidoliaonthemove @graverinth

-0-0-0-

“Captain Blue, you certain you saw Captain Black within the area?” Colonel White called from the comms.

“Yes sir,” Blue replied, “We have questioned the staff if they have seen this man or known about the whereabouts of Captain Scarlet. So far, none of them knew.”

Adam sensed Colonel White’s worry by the sound of a barely audible sigh. He sympathised with his commanding officer, to be honest.

After a hard search on the wreckage of the SPJ, he and the other Spectrum officers went to the Vitaly Power Plant. The staff were kind enough with their help with the medical aid and search.

“Is there anything we can do, sir?” he managed to ask, before any second thoughts would panic his brain.

Silence followed. The Colonel was thinking. Then, an order.

“Do what you can to find Captain Scarlet. And make it fast! Remember; the Mysterons will attack the Power Plant around 12 pm.”

“S.I.G!” the mic flipped back into its original position, and Captain Blue turned to his colleagues, “What time is it, Magenta?”

The Irishman took a quick check on his watch.

“Its 7 am right now. Only four hours left,” he replied.

Magenta had just checked in with Destiny, in which she, Rhapsody and Harmony confirmed they haven’t found Scarelt’s trace as of now.

The Irishman had a good knack for leadership, which helped the Angels navigating through the field in the search. He had crossed points of interest on the map, telling them where to go next until there won’t be any place to find their stranded friend.

Ochre, putting his detective skills from his old job into action, shuffled through the pictures of the crashed SPJ.

He drew pictures on how their poor colleague might had been dragged out of the aircraft. Simulating another person breaking the broken glass shield and pulled him out of the burning cabin.

The most baffling part of this mystery was the three skid marks that were found near the SPJ. He could identify as some sort of plane, judging by how the tracks on the grass seemed to fade out some few kilometres away from the crash site.

Upon closer examination, it seemed to be two thin big ones at the front and a very small one at the back. Forming a big backwards triangle if the vehicle was stationary.

One would laugh at this assumption, but he would immediately pull-out evidence in a form of a picture of the exact moment from what wheels lifted off when the plane rose from the ground; two fronts’ wheels first, then the back wheel last.

Ochre could think of many planes, but when he thinks of those with that kind of placement of landing wheels, something doesn’t make sense.

“There’s no way it could be one of those planes, was it? They were long decommissioned and retired,” he shook his head in doubt. He then turned to his field partner, “Magenta? Did you ask the Angles if they saw an object that looks like a small plane?”

“They reported they saw a shadow in the clouds an hour ago, the one that took down the boogie,” the Irishman replied, “And… that’s all we know so far; the object just disappeared before they could identify it.”

Ochre frowned back at the pictures, scratching the back of his head with the back of a pen.

Just then, the Security Chief had arrived at the office the officers were staying at.

“Well, found anything, sir?” Ochre asked.

“Net, ser,” the Security Chief shook his head, speaking with some accent.

Despite their air full of professionalism, the look on the captains’ faces painted a dreadful picture.

“What was he supposed to do during this mission of protecting our power plant?” the man asked with curiosity.

“Captain Scarlet and I were supposed to check on the mysterious noises that had been reported near the plant. We assumed they were connected to the Mysteron threat,” Blue explained.

“Nou, we had rumours going around the area long before that. K state, last night, some of us heard noises that sounded like plane propellers. You know those ones that we used to have?”

“From where?!” Ochre propped up from his chair, eyes wide.

“From that forest, not too far from here!” the Security Chief waved a hand towards the direction of a big glass window, “and that forest got a lot of history behind it!”

The captains all stared through the window. The nature seemed calm and quiet. Only a simple breeze was blowing through their branches…

“Hey, don’t ya have a feeling of ‘something’s there’?” Magenta side-eyed his colleagues.

They shared long glances.

And they all wordlessly shared a similar thought; they thought they saw movement within the trees…

“Something’s bothering you?” the slightly confused Security Chief asked.

Captain Blue turned around and addressed to the man in front of him.

“Sir, can you explain about those rumors you’ve mentioned earlier?”

-0-0-0-

His back leaned against a birch tree, sitting on the soft grass, Captain Scarlet grew used to his odd new company.

The pilots sat in a half circle in front of him, asking basic questions from his equipment to the purpose of the Spectrum Organization. With a dash of jokes, puns, and friendly trolling.

“You’re from England, right?” asked the young man with the bright smile, who went by the name of Victor Shchedronov. Or ‘Smuglyanka’, as everyone fondly called him.

“Yes, I am!”

“Shakespeare, you know?” quipped Alexandrov ‘Grasshopper’- the young pilot with a small dog. He had some slight cockiness in his attitude, but he was mature and respectful. Scarlet thought he got some of those latter manners - and the cheekiness - from his squadron commander.

“Yes, I do know. Learned it a lot during English class.”

Maestro’s wingman and best friend, the old veteran Sergey Skvortzov, gave Grasshopper a gentle clap on the shoulder.

“That’s enough, kid. I think you had annoyed everyone with your Shakespearian citations at this point,” he huffed in amusement.

The young pilot politely pouted.

“I’m sure Shakespeare would love our ‘Romeo’,” he bowed towards a sweet couple modestly sitting next to one of the century-old fighter planes.

Sagdullayev, the young mustached Uzbek pilot, earned his callsign of ‘Romeo’ for his poignant love for Masha.

Captain Scarlet stared at this young lady, almost a girl, shocked by the thought that the uniform and badges that she wears were totally wrong for her. He would really like to see her in a beautiful summer dress and little shoes instead of heavy military boots.

Masha reminded him of the Spectrum Angels. Only she was a real angel.

Although he didn’t know their love story, Scarlet could feel that it was much more tragic than the one written by the great Shakespeare.

He moved his glance at the beautiful woman who was introduced to him as Zoya. She was also watching Masha and Romeo, and her face was illuminated with a warm, almost motherly smile. She looked like Madonna.

She felt his stare, looked back at him, and quietly said,

“To bad they never had children. Masha would’ve been a perfect mother. She’s so kind.”

All Captain Scarlet could say was,

“I’m sorry…”

He lowered his head, swallowed a big lump in his throat before lifting his eyes back at her, asking quietly,

“Do you have kids?”

“Had a son. He died in the shelling,” she whispered.

He listened to his heart dropping like a heavy stone in the lake, as he thought how complicated humans are.

On one hand, there’s people who kill others who they consider ‘not human’, because of a stupid delusion of extreme superiority. In this case, he could almost understand where the Mysterons were coming from.

On the other hand, there are powerful people full of love and compassion. So much so that they could withstand the cruelty and harshness of life and war. Its no wonder, they lived on as an eternal memory.

“Do you have children?” Zoya’s question snapped him from his deep thoughts.

“Not yet, but I do have a lover,” he smiled fondly, a cute faint blush formed on his cheeks, “her name is Rhapsody Angel. A fiery lady, but still a kind and lovely woman I ever met, I’m glad to say.”

“You’re a lucky man,” Zoya smiled proudly, “Despite the horrors of war, there are still people who fall in love. And that is our hope.”

Captain Scarlet slowly turned his eyes towards Maestro, who was watching him with an all knowing, father-like look.

“Do you have kids, Maestro?” he asked.

“I had a daughter and son. And then I had four grandchildren. And then eight great grandchildren!” the squadron commander suddenly let out a soft relieved laugh, “I was lucky that they were alive and well. And keeping the tradition of singing ‘Smuglyanka’ on every 9th of May and on my birthday.”

Scarlet smiled; hope reignited in his heart. He merely nodded in response.

“So… have you thought about marrying your wonderous Rhapsody?”

“Well…” the Spectrum officer could already sense everyone around him slowly beaming at him. He grinned modestly, “We are engaged! However, nobody on Cloudbase knew except for Captain Blue and Symphony Angel. I don’t think even Colonel White knew.”

“Horosho! And don’t worry, your secret is buried with us!” Maestro winked.

“Make sure you bring her flowers!” Vorobyev beamed, the mustached pilot who was sitting in-between the squadron commander, and the timid young pilot, Ivan, who was toasting the Spectrum Captain with a cheese stuffed dumpling.

Captain Scarlet let out a heartfelt chuckle when his Spectrum cap appeared in front of him.

“Here’s your cap,” said softly old Makarych, Maestro’s plane mechanic and good friend, “It was a little broken; the inner wiring got damaged.”

“Thank you very much, Makarych” Scarlet took his hat gratefully and casually placed it on his head.

Suddenly, his epaulets light up in white light, taking the whole squadron’s attention. And a worried commanding voice yelled from the comms.

“Captain Scarlet? Can you hear me?! Captain Scarlet!?”

He was suddenly surrounded by the pilots and regiment staff, who leaned in with curiosity as the mic flipped from the visor to his mouth.

“Colonel White?” Scarlet answered.

“Oh, thank goodness!” was a whispered relief, “Where are you?! Captain Blue had reported that you went missing! And Lieutenant Green had been trying to re-establish contact!”

The Spectrum officer gave Maestro a glance, in which the latter smiled at him.

“I’m perfectly fine, sir! I’m at the edge of the birch forest, East-South from the Vitaly Power Plant,” he managed to report.

He was thankful that his new friends kept a respectful silence. They were all just listened. Any of the younger hawks who decided to make a rustle was immediately shushed by the older veterans.

“Yes. Green had just now had tracked down your location. Now, what on Earth are you doing there?”

After a small moment of silence, Captain Scarlet simply replied.

“I was… investigating the strange sounds, as you’ve ordered.”

“For Pete’s Sake, Scarlet!” was the slight annoyance from his commanding officer, prompting amused – and sympathetic - smiles from the regiment, “Blue, along with Ochre, Magenta, Destiny, Harmony, and Rhapsody had reported that you had been apparently being dragged out from the crashed SPJ and disappeared two hours ago! Furthermore, he also reported that Captain Black has been spotted in the area!”

Scarlet’s heart dropped for a moment. Feeling the same awful dread that he felt whenever the former Spectrum officer was mentioned. He took noticed of Sergey raising an eyebrow at him, in which he pursed his lips and gave him a serious expression.

“I’ll explain later…” he mouthed.

“What was that?” Colonel White seemed to have heard his scuffle.

“Nothing sir!” Scarlet quickly rebutted.

However, he knew his commanding officer was not the kind of man to be fooled very easily. So much so he had already felt White was beginning to raise suspicions about his whereabouts… and his well being.

Captain Scarlet threw another glance at Maestro, this time with apparent worry. The squadron commander simply gestured him not to say anything.

“Are you sure you’re alright?” Colonel White’s tone grew impatient and worried.

“Yes sir! I am fine! And I’m alone.” the Spectrum officer responded calmly.

This time, he really felt the Colonel raising an eyebrow. And for the moment, he thought he was going to be put into a mental evaluation once he gets his buttocks dragged back to Cloudbase.

“I’ll call you back later. Just stay where you are,” was a stern order, before cutting off.

After a long silence, Captain Scarlet slowly smiled at the already grinning pilots with an air of innocence.

“I bet he thinks I got brain damage.”

And everyone burst out of laughter.

[theberzattos]

Maybe I'm just not built for this, right? Maybe that's okay. Maybe that just is.

[hellcatchvalley]

the way that if any bh member died now it wouldnt even be a "oh no im gonna miss them :(" feeling but more so a "man they didnt even really get a chance to finish anything" feeling is.

[tardis--dreams]

Feeling homicidal at work today ♡

[lionblaze03-2]

sometimes I think about writing and singing music not because I’m an incredible singer but because no one has my fucking voice, especially in popular music, and its disheartening to be born a girl, told you’ll only get girl roles or try to voice match other girls, or ‘sing with the girls’ and then only be able to match male voices because you’re a fuckin tenor and not anything higher. I can’t think of any girl Broadway roles I can hit all the notes on. Most songs I love I have to pitch down for myself or use falsetto for singing along to. It bothers me a lot less now because I’m an adult who’s more secure in myself but as a teen in kids musical theatre it FUCKED with me, BAD style. And I know for a fact that even now when I hear people with a voice like mine singing I get excited and immediately invested in their work because they’re like ME, finally, for once. A brother in this world of being afab and having the voice of a recently pubescent boy forever. Maybe I should be that brother too.

[volchitsa-of-winterfell]

I think nearly all of lewis' aloof persona is carefully constructed, as is his over the top style in the paddock. He's extremely good at distracting ppl or showing only what he wants to. He mimics vulnerability but he's hiding the stuff he's really vulnerable about. All the woowoo spiritual "ohhhhh he's so GENUINE" stuff is also a front (see how kate wagner talked about him).

ooooh bold take and as a fellow mimicker of vulnerability to hide the stuff i'm really vulnerable about, i'm into it!! i understand from your tone that you don't mean this as a particularly good thing but i personally am here for interesting/compelling characters in the vroom vroom soap opera and don't care too much if they're Good People ™ or not lol. (and thank you for the reminder that I still haven't gotten around to reading that Kate Wagner article!)

[salsflore]

just got home from school ～ ate a sandwich to cheer myself up, think i’ll play genshin for a bit and nap ... pulling on shenhe’s banner solves everything

[acourtofquestions]

KINGDOM OF ASH (by SJM)

Chapter 48

THE FAMILY REUINION🥹😆😭🫶& MY SOULLL

But when they reached Princess Hasar's battle tent, when they had all gathered around a map of Anielle, they had only a few minutes of discussion before they were interrupted. By the person Chaol least expected to walk through the flaps.

A moment later, Chaol was glad he was sitting down.

Nesryn breathed, "Holy gods."

Chaol was inclined to agree as Aelin Galathynius, Rowan Whitethorn, and several others entered the tent.

They were mud-splattered, the Queen of Terrasen's braided hair far longer than Chaol had last seen. And her eyes ... Not the soft, yet fiery gaze. But something older. Wearier.

Chaol shot to his feet. "I thought you were in Terrasen," he blurted. All the reports had confirmed it. Yet here she stood, no army in sight.

Three Fae males-towering warriors as broad and muscled as Rowan—had entered, along with a delicate, dark-haired human woman.

But Aelin was only staring at him. Staring and staring at him.

No one spoke as tears began sliding down her face. Not at his being here, Chaol realized as he took up his cane and limped toward Aelin.

But at him. Standing. Walking.

The young queen let out a broken laugh of joy and flung her arms around his neck. Pain lanced down his spine at the impact, but Chaol held her right back, every question fading from his tongue.

Aelin was shaking as she pulled away. "I knew you would," she breathed, gazing down his body, to his feet, then up again. "I knew you'd do it."

"Not alone," he said thickly. Chaol swallowed, releasing Aelin to extend an arm behind him. To the woman he knew stood there, a hand over the locket at her neck.

Perhaps Aelin would not remember, perhaps their encounter years ago had meant nothing to her at all, but Chaol drew Yrene forward. "Aelin, allow me to introduce"

"Yrene Towers," the queen breathed as his wife stepped to his side.

The two women stared at each other.

Yrene's mouth quivered as she opened the silver locket and pulled out a piece of paper. Hands trembling, she extended it to the queen. Aelin's own hands shook as she accepted the scrap.

"Thank you," Yrene whispered.

Chaol supposed it was all that really needed to be said.

Aelin unfolded the paper, reading the note she'd written, seeing the lines from the hundreds of foldings and rereadings these past few years.

"I went to the Torre," Yrene said, her voice cracking. "I took the money you gave me, and went to the Torre. And I became the heir apparent to the Healer on High. And now I have come back, to do what I can. I taught every healer I could the lessons you showed me that night, about self-defense. I didn't waste it-not a coin you gave me, or a moment of the time, the life you bought me." Tears were rolling and rolling down Yrene's face. "I didn't waste any of it."

Aelin closed her eyes, smiling through her own tears, and when she opened them, she took Yrene's shaking hands. "Now it is my turn to thank you." But Aelin's gaze fell upon the wedding band on Yrene's finger, and when she glanced to Chaol, he grinned.

"No longer Yrene Towers," Chaol said softly, "but Yrene Westfall."

Aelin let out one of those choked, joyous laughs, and Rowan stepped up to her side.

Yrene's head tilted back to take in the warrior's full height, her eyes widening-not only at Rowan's size, but at the pointed ears, the slightly elongated canines and tattoo. Aelin said, "Then let me introduce you, Lady Westfall, to my own husband, Prince Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius."

For that was indeed a wedding band on the queen's finger, the emerald mud-splattered but bright. On Rowan's own hand, a gold-and-ruby ring gleamed.

"My mate," Aelin added, fluttering her lashes at the Fae male. Rowan rolled his eyes, yet couldn't entirely contain his smile as he inclined his head to Yrene.

Yrene bowed, but Aelin snorted. "None of that, please. It'll go right to his immortal head." Her grin softened as Yrene blushed, and Aelin held up the scrap of paper. "May I keep this?" She eyed Yrene's locket. "Or does it go in there?"

Yrene folded the queen's fingers around the paper. "It is yours, as it always was. A piece of your bravery that helped me find my own."

Aelin shook her head, as if to dismiss the claim.

But Yrene squeezed Aelin's closed hand. "It gave me courage, the words you wrote. Every mile I traveled, every long hour I studied and worked, it gave me courage. I thank you for that, too."

Aelin swallowed hard, and Chaol took that as excuse enough to sit again, his back giving a grateful tinge. He said to the queen, "There is another person responsible for this army being here." He gestured to Nesryn, the woman already smiling at the queen. "The rukhin you see, the army gathered, is as much because of Nesryn as it is because of me."

A spark lit Aelin's eyes, and both women met halfway in a tight embrace. "I want to hear the entire story," Aelin said. "Every word of it." Nesryn's subdued smile widened. "So you shall. But later." Aelin clapped her on the shoulder and turned to the two royals still by the desk. Tall and regal, but as mud-splattered as the queen.

Chaol blurted, "Dorian?"

Rowan answered, "Not with us." He glanced to the royals.

"They know everything," Nesryn said

"He's with Manon," Aelin said simply.

Chaol wasn't entirely sure whether to be relieved. "Hunting for something important."

The keys. Holy gods.

Aelin nodded. Later. He'd think on where Dorian might now be later. Aelin nodded again. The full story would come then too.

Nesryn said, "May I present Princess Hasar and Prince Sartaq."

Aelin bowed—low. "You have my eternal gratitude," Aelin said, and the voice that came out of her was indeed that of a queen. Any shock Sartaq and Hasar had shown upon the queen bowing so low was hidden as they bowed back, the portrait of courtly grace.

"My father," Sartaq said, "remained in the khaganate to oversee our lands, along with our siblings Duva and Arghun. But my brother Kashin sails with the rest of the army. He was not two weeks behind us when we left."

Aelin glanced to Chaol, and he nodded.

Something glittered in her eyes at the confirmation, but the queen jerked her chin at Hasar. "Did you get my letter?"

The letter that Aelin had sent months ago, begging for aid and promising only a better world in return. Hasar picked at her nails. "Perhaps. I get far too many letters from fellow princesses these days to possibly remember or answer all of them."

Aelin smirked, as if the two of them spoke a language no one else could understand, a special code between two equally arrogant and proud women. But she motioned to her companions, who stepped forward. "Allow me to introduce my friends. Lord Gavriel, of Doranelle." A nod toward the tawny-eyed and golden-haired warrior who bowed.

Tattoos covered his neck, his hands, but his every motion was graceful. "My uncle, of sorts," Aelin added with a smirk at Gavriel. At Chaol's narrowed brows, she explained, "He's Aedion's father."

"Well, that explains a few things," Nesryn muttered.

The hair, the broad-planed face ... yes, it was the same. But where Aedion was fire, Gavriel seemed to be stone. Indeed, his eyes were solemn as he said, "Aedion is my pride." Emotion rippled over Aelin's face, but she gestured to the dark-haired male. Not someone Chaol ever wanted to tangle with, he decided as he surveyed the granite-hewn features, the black eyes and unsmiling mouth.

"Lorcan Salvaterre, formerly of Doranelle, and now a blood-sworn member of my court." As if that weren't a shock enough, Aelin winked at the imposing male. Lorcan scowled. "We're still in the adjustment period," she loudly whispered, and Yrene chuckled.

Lorcan Salvaterre. Chaol hadn't met the male this spring in Rifthold, but he'd heard all about him. That he'd been Maeve's most trusted commander, her most loyal and fierce warrior.

That he'd wanted to kill Aelin, hated Aelin.

How this had come about, why she was not in Terrasen with her army ... "You, too, have a tale to tell," Chaol said.

"Indeed I do." Aelin's eyes guttered, and Rowan put a hand on her lower back. Bad— something terrible had occurred. Chaol scanned Aelin for any hint of it. He stopped when he noticed the smoothness of the skin at her neck. The lack of scars. The missing scars on her hands, her palms. "Later," Aelin said softly. She straightened her shoulders, and another golden-haired male came forward. Beautiful. That was the only way to describe him. "Fenrys ... You know, I don't actually know your family name."

Fenrys threw a roguish wink at the queen.

"Moonbeam."

"It is not," Aelin hissed, choking on a laugh.

Fenrys laid a hand on his heart. "I am blood-sworn to you. Would I lie?"

Another blood-sworn Fae male in her court.

Across the tent, Sartaq cursed in his own tongue. As if he'd heard of Lorcan, and Gavriel, and Fenrys.

Aelin gave Fenrys a vulgar gesture that set Hasar chuckling, and faced the royals. "They're barely housebroken. Hardly fit for your fine company." Even Sartaq smiled at that. But it was to the small, delicate woman that Aelin now gestured. "And the only civilized member of my court, Lady Elide Lochan of Perranth." Perranth. Chaol had combed through the family trees of Terrasen just this winter, had seen the lists of so many royal households crossed out, victim to the conquest ten years ago.

Elide's name had been among them.

Another Terrasen royal who had managed to evade Adarlan's butchers.

The pretty young woman took a limping step forward, and bobbed a curtsy to the royals. Her boots concealed any sign of the source of the injury, but Yrene's attention shot right to her leg. Her ankle. "It's an honor to meet all of you," Elide said, her voice low and steady. Her dark eyes swept over them, cunning and clear. Like she could see beneath their skin and bones, to the souls beneath.

Aelin wiped her hands. "Well, that's over and done with," she announced, and strode to the desk and map. "Shall we discuss where you all plan to march once we beat the living shit out of this army?"

[offlinevirgo]

me: why am i having nightmares

me: why is this person recurring in them

my facebook memories: oh by the way 9 years ago today …

[autumnoakes]

i think it's another bum semester for me :/

[weirdly-specific-but-ok]

for whom good omens is being written

Hey maggots and the rest of the fandom, it's the Good Omens Mascot here. Today I read a post about this tweet:

The accompanying video genuinely made me cry. And I've been thinking about this for a long while, as far back as February, when I saw a lot of conflicting opinions on what people wanted from the third season. It really is true that no matter what you do, some people will be dissatisfied. But what matters is that Neil is writing this for Terry.

And I was reminded of some paragraphs from the Good Omens TV Companion, which I'd read in Amazon's sample excerpt of the book. I know this is a long post, but I really truly do think you all need to read these, I've done my best to select only the most important parts. Here you go:

'His Alzheimer's started progressing harder and faster than either of us had expected,' says Neil, referring to a period in which Terry recognized that despite everything he could no longer write. 'We had been friends for over thirty years, and during that time he had never asked me for anything. Then, out of the blue, I received an email from him with a special request. It read: “Listen, I know how busy you are. I know you don't have time to do this, but I want you to write the script for Good Omens. You are the only human being on this planet who has the passion, love and understanding for the old girl that I do. You have to do this for me so that I can see it." And I thought, “OK, if you put it like that then I'll do it."

'I had adapted my own work in the past, writing scripts for Death: The High Cost of Living and Sandman, but not a lot else was seen. I'd also written two episodes of Doctor Who, and so I felt like I knew what I was doing. Usually, having written something once I'd rather start something new, but having a very sick co-author saying I had to do this?' Neil spreads his hands as if the answer is clear to see. 'I had to step up to the plate.' A pause, then: 'All this took place in autumn 2014, around the time that the BBC radio adaptation of Good Omens was happening,' he continues, referring to the production scripted and co-directed by Dirk Maggs and starring Peter Serafinowicz and Mark Heap. ‘Terry had talked me into writing the TV adaptation, and I thought OK, I have a few years. Only I didn't have a few years,' he says. 'Terry was unconscious by December and dead by March.'

He pauses again. 'His passing took all of us by surprise,' Neil remembers. 'About a week later, I started writing, and it was very sad. The moments Terry felt closest to me were the moments I would get stuck during the writing process. In the old days, when we wrote the novel, I would send him what I'd done or phone him up. And he would say, "Aahh, the problem, Grasshopper, is in the way you phrase the question," and I would reply, "Just tell me what to do!" which somehow always started a conversation. 'In writing the script, there were times I'd really want to talk to Terry, and also places where I'd figure something out and do something really clever, and I would want to share it with him. So, instead, I would text Terry's former personal assistant, Rob Wilkins, now his representative on Earth. It was the nearest thing I had.'

(...) As Neil himself recognizes, this is an adaptation built upon the confidence that comes from three decades of writing for page and screen. But for all the wisdom of experience, he found that above all one factor guided him throughout the process. 'Terry isn't here, which leaves me as the guardian of the soul of the story,' he explains. 'It's funny because sometimes I found myself defending Terry's bits harder or more passionately than I would defend my own bits. Take Agnes Nutter,' he says, referring to what has become a key scene in the adaptation in which the seventeenth-century author of the book of prophecies foretelling the coming of the Antichrist is burned at the stake. ‘It was a huge, complicated and incredibly expensive shoot, with bonfires built and primed to explode as well as huge crowds in costume. It had to feel just like an English village in the 1640s, and of course everyone asked if there was a cheap way of doing it. 'One suggestion was that we could tell the story using old-fashioned woodcuts and have the narrator take us through what happened, but I just thought, “No”. Because I had brought aspects of the story like Crowley and the baby swap along to the mix, and Terry created Agnes Nutter. So, if I had cut out Agnes then I wouldn't be doing right by the person who gave me this job. Terry would've rolled over in his grave.'

And, finally, this paragraph:

"Once again, Neil cites the absence of his co-writer as his drive to ensure that Good Omens translated to the screen and remained true to the original vision. 'Terry's last request to me was to make this something he would be proud of. And so that has been my job.'"

I think that's so heartwrenchingly beautiful, and so I wanted you all to read this, too, just in case you (like me) don't have the Good Omens TV Companion. It adds another layer of depth and emotion to this already complex and amazing story that we all know and love.

Share this post, if you can, please, so that more people can read these excerpts :")

Tagging @neil-gaiman, @fuckyeahgoodomens and @orpiknight, even if you've definitely read these before :)

[arolesbianism]

If I had the freedom of not knowing there is going to be future new lore stuff added to oni I would do unspeakable things to so many of these guys. Or Id just make them normal guys who just sorta exist. Either or.

[kindacreepy-kindaugly]

kinda feel like at this point I need to choose between him n everyone else