#if I don’t walk with quickness and haste and determination everywhere I go I will actually combust

[linguenuvolose]

So embarrassing to be at a new station and having to look around for where you have to go. All the locals will know I’m not from here 🥲

[pinkkunt-imagines]

Shao Kahn || Ego & WAP

Songs: Beyonce - Ego & Cardi B feat. Megan Thee Stallion - WAP

Synopsis: The Kahn has been pussymatized, and is need of his favorite good little concubine. 

A/N: Soo, I had to go with two songs for Shao. Ego because his attitude is big and well...you know... ;) And WAP because I can imagine he was pussymatized by Sindel. Soo here it is for reader. I’d also like to mention that I’m appauled about their is virtually almost no Shao Kahn x Reader on the internet? Like only one about him on Tumblr. Ya’ll gon give him respek!   It was supposed to be Light NSFW, but it got out of hand real fast into a full smut one-shot. So NSFW WARNING BELOW! Here is also Shao Kahn eating your vagina through a screen gif.

“[Name]! Where is my [Name]!?” That roar rippled throughout the palace, practically scaring anyone who heard. “I want her! Bring her to me now!”

He sure was needy today, or more like, everyday. The only one that could help him was [Name], his favorite concubine out of a cluster of various women. Something about her was pure in nature, and a natural beauty at that. It was something he had to have for himself, something he had to rip apart and destroy. He had to change her, make her see that conquering people and land was the only way to get stronger. But the opposite had been happening.

She was the saving grace of Outworld. While her Kahn was a cruel man, capable of many bad deeds, [Name] was not. While she wasn’t a big fan of his more brutal approach with imperialism, she believed that if he was going to take other realms that reforming the people would be a better approach. It was all nonsense to him at first, people didn’t need to be reformed to listen, they just needed to do it. But [Name] was pretty good at choosing the appropriate times to talk about such topics, usually during pillowtalk. And honestly, it was working, [Name] was changing the immortal little by little. Lately, he found himself taking prisoners rather than executing them at the spot, just like she wanted. Mentally he cursed her and himself while making such decisions.  Who would’ve thought that the man so obsessed with power would be influenced by some ordinary human. She was making him weak.

Shao also noticed a change in his mental thought when he was out conquering realms. Oftentimes thinking of something he could take from someone and give to [Name]. He needed to hold her at night, spoil her, listen to her concerns even when they were a bore. And unlike many of the other concubines who had to do chores like cook and clean, [Name] was not required to do such labor. Many of the girls became envious towards her and Shao’s favoritism. Was this some form of love? Vice versa for [Name]. There was something oddly attractive about his lust for power, and that big mean persona he put on. He took what he wanted like some thug, and most of all knew how to make her feel good. Being intimate so many times, she was bound to fall in love with him.

When walking into the large throne room, she noticed that Shao was already bare, rubbing his abnormal large cock in between his hands. Having sex was one of the only times he’d remove his helmet, as he did enjoy kissing more than he’d like to admit. She wore a black wool coat, fully buttoned and barefoot as she approached his throne. The distance between them was about six feet apart, and even then Shao was ready to pounce out of the chair and fuck her against the cold floor.

Fingers lightly tracing the buttons on the coat, [Name] teasingly ran her hand around her covered body, Shao’s eyes watching closely in anticipation, “So impatient today, Shaowie. I was already coming the first dozen times you called.”

Shaowie was the nickname she had given him after growing closer. It was okay to call him in private, but even she knew without warning to not call him that around others. But this only proved to her even more that he had a soft spot for her.

He grinned wildly, rubbing his cock with haste. He was ready and couldn’t wait any longer. “Ah! My [Name]! How ravishing you look today. Come now, and I will rip that piece of Earthrealm clothing off your skin and devour you.”

“Only if you can guess what I’m wearing underneath~”

“For your sake, it better be nothing.”

[Name] undid the buttons on her coat at a slow tantalizing pace. Her teasing gaze caught the eyes of the lustful man, and that's when he lost it.

“Come to me, now! I won’t wait any longer.”

-

He hoisted her naked body up, turning her around so that her back faced him, whilst he stayed seated. With both of his hands on her curved hips, he lined himself up with her already dripping hole before shoving himself inside. God, he was so big, so thick that he was splitting her in half. But she wouldn’t have it any other way. The initial burning sensation that she felt when he was ripping her apart was something that she loved. So full and so sudden, she could hardly breathe. All that left her mouth were strangled gasps. Shao on the other hand let out an animalistic growl, that echoed throughout the throne room walls. Her walls, with a short initial spasm, had clenched onto him tightly. Shao loved to take [Name] from behind, mostly for the show of watching his cock disappear inside her.

“Mmm, yes that’s it! Take all of my cock!”

He started his impatient and sloppy thrusts, using her tight soaked pussy as a cock sleeve with no care. Shao marveled at how good her cunt felt around him. She was no Sindel. No, she was tighter, younger, and was always on a mission to milk him dry. The fact that he was allowing himself to be controlled by her pussy was in proof in itself. What he admired most was her determination to take all of him (even though he was way too big for that), even when the head of his dick kissed against her cervix; yet, he always kept pushing forward, and she never objected. Shao Kahn’s ego matched what was going on below. He had every right to boast about himself, because he surely could back it up.

“H-Harder!”  She moaned, completely immersed in the pleasurable pain that was Shao Kahn’s cock.

His claws dug into her soft flesh with greed as to so seem as pure fury, while he pulled [Name]’s body back against his dick, somehow managing to go even harder than he already was. Shao’s head flew back against the throne, mouth hanging open still releasing those animalistic grunts that thundered from his chest. It was mere carnal pleasure taking over both of them. In his frantic race for release, he accidentally hit a precise spot in her, beyond pleasant: she cried out and her soaked walls pulsated around his cock, signalling her early release. [Name] was already a drooling, babbling mess, but this took the cake. She didn’t even get a chance to feel the orgasm build up, she just began squirting everywhere, as her orgasm washed over her. 

“Sh-Shao! Ah~ Keep fucking me, Emperor! Don’t stop!” Most of what she had said was slurred and incoherent, but it made Shao’s cock throb anyways.

In a demanding meanor, he asked ,“You naughty little thing. Who said you could cum just yet?”

There was never a need to hold back an orgasm when haing sex with [Name], he ALWAYS made her cum first, and that wasnt even by choice. However there was one occurrence where they came at together, and it was beyond breathtaking. He’d never felt that overwhelmed with pleasure unless he was killing an enemy. 

Getting up from his throne, he twisted [Name] around, never retreating his member from her slick. The turn stimulated the underside of her abused clit, sending another round of sybaritic pleasure, that all she could do was whimper. Shao grunted, wrapping his power arms around her body, bringing his hands in between her ass cheeks, and harpooning his claws into them. She wrapped her arms around his neck, looking into his glowing red eyes that were sinfully hungry for more.

 [Name] forcefully pushed herself in for a heated kiss, tongues and saliva exchanging, all without stopping to slam upward into her at brutal and merciless pace. Her pussy bubbled wet and obscene sounds, which only helped to push him to his release. He held her firmly and glued to his own body, and she could hear him panting and grunting desperately into the kiss, sounding like a true wild beast.

His rhythm doubled, he was close. The hand, more like a claw, that was holding tight to her bruised ass, dragged away from under her body to reach her head. He took a handful of her hair at the base of her scalp, and pulled with a quick tug. Her head was tilted in an uncomfortable arch, leaving exposed the slope between her neck and her shoulder, in which his face dove eagerly. His panting breath came out in hot puffs, his grunts roared louder and louder in her ear, while his hips continued frantically crashing into hers at an ungodly pace, the sounds of sweaty skins contact echoing with every impact.

Shao’s cock kept hitting that sweet spot inside her and she felt that familiar pressure dangerously building up. Her walls began clenching onto him again, she was so damn close, giving the man an additional, irresistible sense of blind pleasure. His pace began to wobble, his thrusts became more uneven and sloppy. He was close by now. 

Finally he gasped and froze. His grip on her ass intensified, making her fear to explode. Then, with a final, powerful push, he stiffened completely sunk into [Name]. His body pressed flush against her, his nails were like blades into her skin as he did punctuated thrusts to release streams of hot cum that flooded her squashed walls, while the excess was already spilling out of her and along your inner thigh. Simultaneously, the fire that was building up in [Name]’s abdomen finally exploded, coming in waves of lightning pleasure, that she couldn’t help but dissolve herself in it. He grunted trembling and deeply straight into her ear; then it followed his long and echoing sigh, similar to a profound relief.

Shao lifted the exhausted woman off of his still throbbing hard cock, setting himself down back on his chair and her across his large lap. Chuckling, he ran his fingers through her soft locks. “Mmm~ What a good little concubine you are.”

[plainbrunettelbl]

ABO (A) Tamaki Amajiki x Pregnant (O) Reader Shopping for the Pup

Word count:1540

Warnings: So sweet it might kill you. 

Title: ABO (A) Tamaki Amajiki x Pregnant (O) Reader Shopping for the Pup

Summary: You and Tama go shopping for the pup and a little incident occurs.

(Gif not mine) 

 Tamaki:

🐙-You were five months along and it was long overdue to start buying stuff for the pup. You had cleared out a room for the pup. What you really meant was Tamaki sat you down in a comfy chair in the corner the room and you supervised as he hauled everything out.

🐙-At first, he didn’t want you to be in the room at all. You had used your Omega eyes on him and said that you and the pup wanted to be near their Alpha/father. He was done for.

🐙-Once the room was cleared you had taken to vacuuming and dusting everything. You could call it nesting since you did actually make a nest in there at one point. Tama had come home to a quiet house and his Omega nowhere to be found.

🐙-Once he had sent out a concerned chirp and your answering one was heard from the pups room he understood. Walking into the room to see you curled up under blankets and pillows with your bump peeking out was such an adorable sight he nearly fainted.

🐙-He might have taken a few pictures for his desk at his hero agency.

🐙-So after you hit your five-month mark and nothing but your nest was still in the pups room you voiced your want to go shopping for the pups room. Tama was all too ready to take a day off and help you pick stuff out.

🐙-He was so excited about the pup that he didn’t even care that shopping for the pup meant big crowds and loud noises. His one mission was to buy furniture for the pup and see your bright smile while doing so.

🐙-So he would brave the loud crowds just to make sure you were happy and safe. No pregnant Omega of his was going out alone. He had been lucky that you seemed to get needy for his presence and didn’t like leaving his side since carrying the pup.

🐙-The few times you did go out on your own poor Tama was a ball of anxiety and concern. He knew you needed some alone time every now and then but the thought of you alone in public while pregnant sent his poor Alpha into protective overdrive.

🐙-He wasn’t a growly Alpha but the pup had changed him. Any small threat will cause him to send one out as a stern warning. No one was gonna hurt his mate on his watch.

🐙-So when you asked him about going to the mall to shop for the pup he was eager to tag along with you. Your first stop was at the pretzel place on the way to the pup shop.

🐙-Your Alpha was diligent when it came to keeping you fed and content. You got a big salty pretzel and a sweet red slushy to wash it down. When you voiced your concern that he didn’t get anything Tama reassured you that he was waiting to eat at your favorite Italian place after you had finished shopping.

🐙-Usually, you and Tama would go to your favorite sushi place after shopping but since you are not allowed to eat sushi while with the pup it didn’t feel right for him to eat seafood in your presence. Even if it was for his quirk.

🐙-“Tama look at these cute blankets! They have cute little octopuses on them!” You quickly shoved them in his face. “The pup would look so cute wrapped up in them! A reminder of their strong daddy.”

🐙-Needless to say, a blushing Tamaki put it into the cart.

🐙-The next forty-five minutes were spent of you gushing over anything Suneater related and your poor bashful Alpha trailing on behind you. When it came to the furniture his Alpha really kicked in.

🐙-It was almost like he was a different person entirely to people who didn’t know him but to his Omega that knew his Alpha all too well, you just let him do his thing.

🐙-He spent quite a while testing out different cribs and changing tables making sure they were as sturdy as can be. Once he was sure he figured out which ones would be the safest he quickly wrote down the names to bring up to the checkout desk.

🐙-You had wandered off at that point after a few minutes of Tama banging and pressing down on a dresser. He went off to find you. He didn’t like you wandering off on your own but he could understand your enthusiasm to shop.

🐙-He walked upon you reaching up on your tippy-toes to reach for a comforter set that was placed on a higher shelf. Your fingers just barley reaching it enough to push it back further onto the shelf.

🐙-He would have quietly laughed at your antics if it wasn’t for another blanket set disturbed by your actions. A big bulky comforter set was tilting off the shelf and quickly heading towards his unsuspecting Omega head.

🐙-“Y/N look out!” His voice was loud and demanding.

🐙-You were spooked at your Alpha’s unusually loud tone. You were used to his soft-spoken voice. In your haste to look at your Alpha to determine what was causing him to shout you didn’t step away from the danger, he was warning you about.

🐙-Tamaki was quick to activate his quirk and catch the offending object with his tentacles. The angle he caught didn’t reveal if it had hit you or not. He was quick to toss it to the side and rushed towards you.

🐙-“Are you alright? Did it hit you? Is the pup okay.” He took your shoulders into his arms as his eyes flew over your form.

🐙-You were opening your mouth to reassure him that you were unharmed when he suddenly blanched.

🐙-“Oh my God, I wasn’t fast enough! It hit you and you bit your tongue because of it! You are bleeding everywhere!” He clasped his hands around your mouth and pressed you into his chest. He was quickly trying to remember where he saw the last restroom so he could take you there and examine your injury.

🐙-Before he could lift you up and dash you out of the shop you hit him on his chest trying to gain his attention. He was quick to pull you away from him and look you over again. Maybe he missed another injury.

🐙-“I’m not bleeding Tama. The blanket set didn’t hit me. I had a red slushy remember?” You tried to calm the shaken Alpha by letting out soft purrs and making sure your calm scent reached him.

🐙-He was slowly settling down from his panicked thoughts. He leaned down to scent you just to make sure you were really okay. One hand reached out to rest on your bump.

🐙-After a few minutes of making sure he was calmed enough, you pulled back. “I found a blanket set that had tiny octopuses on it. It would look so cute in the crib. Can you get it for me? I couldn’t reach it.”  

🐙-He softly sighed and reached up to get it. “Why don’t you go test out the rocking chairs while I get this.” He didn’t want you out of his sight again but he also didn’t want you near any more shelves either.

🐙-You happily agreed with him but not before you pointed out the blanket set had a matching mobile set just down the aisle. You waddled off towards the rocking chairs after giving him a quick kiss on the cheek.

🐙-He quickly put back the blanket set he threw aside and grabbed what you wanted. It seemed the pup’s nursery was going to take on a sea theme. He knew you were probably going to ask him to paint octopuses on the wall as well.

🐙-This time he wasn’t gonna let you weasel your way into the room. You could watch him from your nest assemble furniture but in no way were you gonna be in the room while he painted.  

🐙-He walked up behind you and put the things in the cart.

🐙-“Y/n are you ready to go ea... oh.” His voice softly trailed off.

🐙-You had fallen asleep testing a gliding chair out. Both hands rested softly on your belly. He walked over and sat down in the rocking chair next to you. He would let you rest.

🐙-He knew it must have been tiring for you today. You had been sleeping often and missed your afternoon nap to come shopping. So he let you nap away while he silently admired your sleeping frame.

Bonus:

🐙-“But I wanna make sure you paint them right!” You whined through the closed door.

🐙-“No. Go lay down in your nest. You have been standing way too much today.” His voice had a deep timber telling you that his Alpha was not going to budge. You whined softly but knew it was for the best.

🐙-“I think I left some takeout menus on the counter. Why don’t you pick something out to eat for dinner?” He encouraged. With a new goal of food in mind, you were quick to forget your earlier argument. Waddling to the kitchen with a bounce in your step.  

This was the other half of the Bakugo one shot I didn’t end up writing yesterday. I hope y'all like it. I enjoy reading you guys positive feedback. 💕💗

[bang-to-the-tan]

Moth to Flame 

Chapter 8

Reader x OT7

► Vampire!AU

Smut/Porn With Some Plot

Warnings: Degredation, Somewhat Dubious Consent/Hypnosis, Oral Sex, Vaginal Sex, Vaginal Fingering, Male Masturbation, Handjob, Choking, Gagging, Threesome (M/M/F), Foursome (M/M/M/F), Possessiveness, Vampires (Biting, Blood-Sucking, Reference to Death), Language

Words: 11K Exactly Because I am a Superstar

↳ Summary: Robbed of your memories and intended as a birthday present for a deadly creature of the night, you unwittingly become the center of a territorial dispute between two covens of vampires. Tensions are rising and the brothers are getting hungry...

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It takes a while before you can convince yourself to leave the safety of the wardrobe. But there aren’t any more voices from outside and you’re beginning to get hungry…Finally, you unlatch the doors and slip out, pausing in the quiet to check that your dismount didn’t catch anyone’s attention. Nothing happens. You count your breaths, but there’s still no sign of any movement other than your own. Relaxing just a little more, you avail yourself of Jin’s bathroom and dig into the snacks he brought while you process your situation, sitting cross-legged by the bed to avoid getting crumbs everywhere. Idly you promise yourself that you’ll slide underneath it if anyone comes up again. It’s not exactly a feast—convenience-store burritos that you wish you could heat up, snack foods like pretzels and bizarrely, a handful of suckers.

A kink, maybe? You muse on the possibility of your warden having a fetish for lollipops as you chew laboriously through a mostly-thawed hot pocket. Maybe he just thought you wanted a candy? The memory of his excited face when he mentioned the food comes to mind. He seemed legitimately proud of himself. Like a kid with a pet.

Cum all over your master’s fingers, just like a good little pet.

You swallow, hard, and challenge the arousal that momentarily flashes through you. You can’t just sit here and be complacent. It’s weird. It’s wrong. What’s next? A collar? The marks under your bandages throb, and a quiet gasp escapes your lips at the sudden image that accompanies the thought. A collar and a leash that he could tug on and you could be so good for him—

You stand up, finishing what’s left of your pitiful meal with one vicious bite. Okay, escaping is now the train of thought, you’ve just decided. No more of…any of that. Especially with what just happened. Packing everything back into the plastic bag, you set it by the side of the bed.

Can’t trust the hallways—not with everyone up and about. There’s at least three of them wandering around at any one point and you’re pretty sure all of them know you’re here. They’ll catch you no problem if you step foot out of this room by way of the door. The window, then, like you’d planned to begin with.

You shift, frowning, rubbing your thighs together. God, were you always this horny all the time? On the outskirts of your mind, imagining what kind of punishments exactly they might have in store if they caught you? When they catch you… You shake your head violently.

Anyways.

Out the window.

The curtain pulls aside easily when you tug at one corner, lifting it just enough to peep out again and confirm your suspicions. It’s still nighttime. Still? Again? Wish there was some way of knowing. Another fact about vampires triggers in the depths of your mind. They sleep during the day and get up during the night. So with that logic, the house should be clear by daytime—you’d be home free. Could even walk through the front door, if you’d had a mind to, but considering you’re batting zero for two on that score, maybe you’ll stick with the window. You’ve got the beginnings of a real plan, then. Wait for it to be light out, take your bag of snacks, use the duvet to slide out of the window. Perfect. Flawless.

 There’s a quiet sound on the door, as someone tapping their fingers gently on it.

“It’s me.” Jimin. “Open the door. Quick, before they come back.”

Shit. Shit.

You scramble for the bag of food, nearly tripping over yourself in your haste to reach the window. No time to wait, you’ve already been caught—you need to leave now.

“I don’t want to have to haze you but you have to open the door!” Comes the urgent whisper again.

Fuck off, Jimin, you think venomously, flying to the window, throwing the curtains aside and curling your fingers under the pane.

“You can trust me, I promise.” On closer inspection, it looks like it might soon be dawn, the pitch black of the sky threatening to go purple as it dips below the horizon. Not perfect, but good enough. A few more hours until sunrise, as far as you can reckon. You’ll take it. You have to.

“I think we can help each other, you know? But you have to open up. It’s not safe.” You cringe at the sound as the pane slides all the way up, but grit your jaw anyways, throwing the bag over your shoulder.

“Wait, was that the window?!” He sounds panicked. Too late, you think, throwing your leg over the sill. Too late. You’re getting out of here. Right now. Craning over the side, you can judge the distance as far enough to cause some problems if you just dropped down, even with the hedge breaking your fall. You can tuck and roll, can’t you? Yeah, definitely. Tuck and roll. Easy. Despite your self-pep talk, you’re still hesitating.

But you can do that, you insist hurriedly. It’ll be locked away in your head somewhere. Gotta be. One of those survival things, like adrenaline-powered moms picking trucks up off their children. Your other leg swings forwards, dangling off the sill, hands braced against the frame.

“Fuck—Stop!”

You halt dead in your tracks. The light from the room behind you wavers, coiling as it caresses the bare skin of your arms. Thinking sinks into a chore, the world oozing fog from the corners, filling your limbs with sand. A breath escapes your lungs that empties your entire body, leaving you heavy and hollow. Wait. What are you doing? Jimin said to stop. Where were you going without him? You frown.

“It isn’t safe out there!” He’s definitely right about that. It is most certainly not safe. Why were you so determined to jump?

“I know you want to get out, but you’re gonna end up hurt if you leave now!”

You would get hurt, yeah. You cast a disparaging look at the ground beneath the sill.

Tuck and roll. Tuck and roll? You don’t know how to tuck and roll.

 “We aren’t the only ones with haze,” Jimin continues hastily, “And you already went missing—we won’t be the only ones looking for you, either. Jin must have bitten you. You can’t miss those marks. It leaves a smell. A-a trail. And the others aren’t always like us. They can be really cruel.”

“Others”? What is he—…Other vampires? You purse your lips. Jimin did say to stop. You should stop. But on the other hand it also did seem like you were in a real rush to jump out this window. Like you had a good reason at the time. What was it? It’s really hard to grasp, but you can’t shake the feeling like it’s incredibly important.

“Some of them really like pain,” his tone is hushed, “They’re scary. Bad.” He shifts, encouraged by the ponderous silence on your end as you mull over his words as well as your own thoughts. Time-sensitive. It feels time-sensitive. Something to do with time. And the window. Maybe you could compromise? Could you ask him to catch you when you jump out of the window? He seems strong enough. But you could probably also just as well ask him to hold you, if that’s what you wanted. Is it what you want? You’ve lost your train of thought, too easily distracted by the thought of Jimin’s soft, warm arms around you. Maybe that is what you wanted. You aren’t sure. You certainly want it now.

“I know you want to leave. But what if they catch you? They’ll make sure you suffer. We don’t want you to suffer. I don’t want you to suffer.”

 Part of you is more aware of what he’s saying than most of you, and parts of it come to you much slower than the rest. It leaves a smell. You raise a hand to the bandages and rub at them, feeling the itch, the throb, the vague pleasure that shoots down your neck. I’ll have to catch you and bring you back anyway. So that must be how Jin planned on tracking you down if you’d ran away. Looking back, he was really confident he was that he could. Not ‘try to catch’, not ‘hunt you down’. Catch you, bring you back. Maybe chain you up or something. The thought goes straight between your legs and you hum at the feeling. Is that what you were doing? Playing a cat and mouse game with Jin?...That doesn’t seem right, either.

Playing with Jin…A spark of concrete thought lights in your mind and you snatch at it even as it slips through your fingers like water.

 “…I’m not supposed to be playing with you, Jimin.” You point out, slowly, thoughtfully. You don’t have to raise your voice too much—you know he can hear you just fine. “Namjoon said so.”

Jimin sighs. “I misbehaved a little earlier, but I promise I’ll be good now. I’m just trying to help now. I promise I’ll be good.”

‘Misbehaved a little’. Memories of his plush lips against your sopping core rise to the forefront of your mind. You shiver.  Is that what you were after? No…that doesn’t have to do with the window. It could, maybe up against the window? An option.

“I’m supposed to go to Jin when my greedy pussy needs filling,” you add, swinging your legs faintly. “Not you, not Jungkook, not Taehyung.”

You can hear him choke faintly. “I-I know, I know, and that’s got to be confusing for you, but Jin isn’t here right now. It isn’t safe anymore.”

Now that doesn’t seem right. You roll your eyes. Not safe. That can’t be right. A breeze sweeps up outside the window and it raises goosebumps on your arms. You’d move back into the warm, but Jimin did tell you to stop, and you can’t think of why you wouldn’t listen to him just yet. Plus, you haven’t figured out what part the window has to play in all this. Something in you really wants you to jump. Something in you is screaming, but all you hear are echoes.

 “Jungkook’s so hungry...I kind of wish they’d just give you to him...But even so, I think you could help us. All of us.”

It’s quiet for a moment. You turn his words over in your head.

“Really? I could help you?” That’s an interesting take. You’d love to help, any way you can. You like helping.

“Yeah! You could help us! Please, please, open the door. We can’t keep talking, I swear to God he knows that you’re in here and if he finds you in here…Please open the door. Please come with me. I swear I won’t do anything.”

Helping, yeah. Maybe that was what you were doing. You can always ask Jimin about the window while you help him. Your legs are already swinging back over the window, albeit shakily. You’re reluctant to leave it, but you get distracted again by the bag over your shoulder. Whatever it was that doesn’t want you to go definitely isn’t going to let go of the bag. It’s a small compromise—keep the bag, leave the window. Jimin shouldn’t mind. You start towards the door, reaching for it.

“I promise I won’t touch you. I won’t even look at you if you want. Please.”

“No touching?” You repeat, stopping just in front of the frame. You’ll open the door. That should be okay. Although you won’t deny that you’re a little disappointed at the thought that you can’t touch Jimin.

“None! I’ll back up from the door, even!”

You clutch the plastic bag over your shoulder, and your mind briefly drifts to what it would be like if he was lying to you about touching. It can’t be your fault if he starts it, can it? Maybe then you won’t get in trouble. It’s a nice thought.

Curling your fingers around the handle is not nearly as difficult as when you opened the door for Taehyung. This time, the choice is so much easier.

When you pull it towards you, you immediately spot Jimin on the other side of the hallway, pressed fully to the opposite wall. His face crumples into relief when he sees you emerging, but his eyes are wide with urgency. His hands are held up in a gesture of peace, and there’s fabric slung over one arm. He doesn’t look halfway as dangerous as you’d think—his oversized sweater swallows him whole and his mussed hair makes him look so sweet, so small. A neon sign reading “Innocent” draped over his chest couldn’t scream ‘harmless’ any louder.

“Why aren’t I safe in Jin’s room anymore?” you ask curiously. The question seems to come from out of nowhere.

“His job has him caught up for a little while.” Is the immediate reply. The only part of him that moves are his pillowy lips. You remember those lips. “You would’ve been okay if no one knew you were in there, but somehow…somehow they figured it out.”

You hum, eyeing him absently.

“Where are we going?”

“I’d take you to my room, but neither of them need permission to come in, and I don’t think they trust me right now. I don’t think I trust me right now… I’m thinking the left wing.”

“The left wing?”

He nods. Slowly, deliberately, as though dealing with a spooked animal, he unhooks the fabric from his arm and offers it to you. After a half-second of hesitation, you take it from his hand, being sure to avoid actually touching him, despite the urging in your fingertips to brush his. It’s a hoodie. Oversized, well-worn…and a little dusty…? There are holes in some of the seams and whatever date was printed on the front, letter-man style, is rubbed most of the way off.

“For the smell.” He explains quickly. “You can’t leave Jin’s room smelling like him if he’s not here.”

Obeying a knee-jerk instinct, you raise a black sleeve to your nose and inhale briefly. You’re sure you don’t have half the sense that they do, but there is a scent. Vague, light. Oddly familiar.

“What’s in the left wing?”

An old wound twinges in his eyes and his gaze flits away. “Nothing, anymore.”

You grasp the hoodie more firmly between your fingers, scrutinizing the vampire as he pins himself to the wall, arms still up, now avoiding your gaze and frowning with the ghost of some distant memory. No touching, needs help, window jumping. You’re not sure you’ve got the space in your head to unpack everything. Not enough to make the connections that need made.

“We don’t have a lot of time,” he says again, softly.

 You place the bag on the ground, pulling the hoodie over your head and gathering your hands from the insides of the massive sleeves, slinging the food back over your shoulder as you tug the bottom of the jacket down. It reaches all the way to your knees; it’s awkward, clumsy—you look like a teenager stealing her boyfriend’s stuff. Kind of cute. Does Jimin think you’re cute? You cast a glance up at him, but he’s very busy looking away from you.

“Okay?”

“Okay.” You affirm, shuffling comfortably.

“Good.”

He turns from you, spinning on his heel, and immediately makes a beeline down the hall. You try your best to follow, but he’s seriously booking it. You catch a flash of a worried, thoughtful expression as he casts a furtive glance down the stairs when the two of you pass them.

Momentarily, you lose yourself in gathering your bearings. Behind you, the opposite way of where you’re headed, is Jin’s room, then Jungkooks a little further down, and finally at the end of the hall is the bathroom they share. Where Taehyung was. Come to think of it, you don’t think you’ve ever actually been down this way, to the left from the front doors.

The light from the chandelier passes over your face and then dips back out of view. There’s a flash of trepidation, of anger, that grips your throat. No. It’s frustration. You aren’t supposed to be going this way for some reason. The window again…? The front doors.

Jimin’s pulling away, his pace quickening. You skip to catch up.

He leads you down the left hallway, all the way to the end, and then immediately veers to a sharp right. You almost run into him, skittering to a halt just behind him when he stops by a specific door. It doesn’t look any different from the others to you. You wonder what he sees.

He casts another look around, concern pulling at his lips, avoiding your eyes. He’s very pretty, but you wish he wasn’t frowning so much. Those sweet, soft lips should be pulled into a smile. Or even better, wrapped around your skin. Want dances briefly over your limbs, curls in your chest. The door opens with a creak of old wood and Jimin visibly flinches, but holds out an arm to usher you in. He almost forgets not to touch you, quickly dropping his arm back to his side as you walk past him. Missed opportunity. Obediently, you trail inside, casting a cursory glance about the room as he closes the door carefully behind the two of you.

It looks just like the other rooms you’ve seen, but even more bare somehow. The bed is made, but there are no decorative pillows. The bookcase in the corner is mostly empty, except for one or two faded, worn books. In the corner is a wardrobe just like Jin’s, though the doors are flung open. Recently, judging by the lines in the dust.

 “Okay. You have your food,” Jimin begins pacing, patting dust off surfaces as he goes like its an afterthought, using his other hand to rake through his hair—still avoiding your gaze. “You have your food, so that’s good.”

You drop the bag to the floor, scooting it close to the door. The feeling inside of you that needed it with you is satisfied with leaving it there. Within easy reach. Whatever that means.

The bathroom door is ajar, and from here, you can see a flash of green on the tiles. Are those…frog stickers decorating the walls? Jimin’s still worrying aloud, but you’re already tapping over to the door, pushing it open delicately, immediately distracted with the childish flourishes.

“Jin should be back soon. He said he’d be back soon. That usually means a work day.”

They are frogs, little cartoon frogs. Bright green, some of them red and blue. There are ridiculously cartoony ones with huge eyes and ones that are more anatomically correct—closer to the shower in the corner you can spot a whole host of charmingly anthropomorphic frogs holding…garden supplies?

“Maybe tonight? Hopefully tonight.”

You ghost closer to the wall, delighted to find these friendly faces. You trace over one with an extended finger, noticing the way its faded. How long have these been here? One of his brothers has light scratches, as though someone tried to peel it back and then smoothed it down when it wouldn’t come up cleanly.

It doesn’t occur to you that the bathroom door has creaked just that little bit more closed behind you until you sense movement. You move to turn, to tell Jimin about these fantastic little comrades you’ve just found, but a strong arm wrapping about your midsection stops you from going far. Automatically, your lungs fill with a squeal of surprise, but a hand clamps over your mouth and a familiar voice hisses in your ear with an urgent tone, warming your hair, making the surface of your skin tingle with the heat of his breath.

“Don’t scream.”

Your mind wipes entirely clean, the lights around you growing halos, the edges curling with shadows and warm, filtered glows. The entirety of your body floods with warmth, safety, belonging, all within a second. Scream? No. No, the sound that escapes you, muffled by Jungkook’s palm, is a moan. He’s so close, his body molded to yours, you can feel his heart beating through your back, can feel the body heat coming off him in waves. You’re already putty in his arms. There’s a heavy pause, marked only by the sound of you panting through your nose. In the other room, you can still hear Jimin complaining to himself, quieted somewhat by the mostly-closed bathroom door.

 “Jin’s pajamas…” Jungkook murmurs in your ear after a furtive beat. “Namjoon’s hoodie…No one would guess who you really belong to at this point.”

He sucks in a sharp breath, and you feel him press his nose to your neck, where your bandages lie, inhaling deep. The rush of pleasure that follows the mild ache beneath nearly takes out your legs, your body sagging against where he has you held against him.

“Both of them?” he whines quietly. The hand over your mouth disengages with a vaguely wet sound from where you’ve already begun drooling, fingers flying to the bandage, curling under and peeling it off, feverish. He throws it out of sight, somewhere on the floor. You squirm against his grip in anticipation, but he shushes you. The fresh air caressing your bites feels almost cold, tingling. A slick heat suddenly presses to the marks, hot and firm, tasting the scabs formed there, and it feels so good you almost cry out, but his hand reappears, curling around your chin to force three of his fingers past your lips. Desperately, you suck on them, pulling them deeper into your mouth, hips beginning to circle against him seemingly of their own volition. You think of what he promised you earlier. What he promised you.

Behind you, he grunts under his breath, grinding his pelvis against your ass and you can already feel him getting hard, the thick muscle of his thighs slipping across the thin fabric of Jin’s pajamas.

“You know who you belong to, right?” he rasps, “You remember me? You remember my fingers?”

You nod vigorously, hollowing your cheeks around his digits, sucking them down like they were his cock. The arm around your waist shifts, his other hand trailing down your hips. He roots past the hoodie almost violently, searching for the waistband of the pajama pants, jamming his hand down the front as soon as he finds it. The pads of his fingertips stroke past your folds, testing the slick gathering there as you widen your stance to allow him more space, slobbering enthusiastically around the digits clenching absently around your tongue. Two fingers breach your quaking walls, shoved upwards into you and curling with one smooth motion. You buck forwards just as he thrusts, exhaling a shuddering gasp into your hair.

“Yeah,” he hums, fucking upwards with his hand, circling his wrist and sliding his thumb down against your throbbing clit to send lightning flickering through your spine, “Yeah, you remember me. You remember this.” Even as he fingers you sloppily, fervently, he keeps you locked in place, imprisoned by his strong forearms, pressed to his legs and torso.

 “I don’t know if I can keep being good the longer I stay here with you,” Jimin’s voice suddenly wafts over to you from the bedroom, though he seems hesitant to come too close to the bathroom door.

Jungkook’s hand doesn’t stop, but his motions calm to simple strokes, rubs, fingers pulsing inside of you with a delicious drag that has your eyes rolling back, hips stuttering to chase after more. His own breath is quickly getting out of hand, heavy exhales you can hear him trying to muffle into your neck.

“But before I leave, I just want to make sure you aren’t gonna try and escape, okay?”

 Lips press to your bite marks, feverish and possessive. Jungkook’s teeth catch the tender, not-quite-healed flesh in a bite that is less than kind, but the aching pain sends your legs into spasm with a spike of heady pleasure, choking around his fingers as he presses down hard on your tongue. The moan that arises from your chest is garbled and messy as you drool and huff openly, wetly. He ruts against you through the unforgiving starch of his jeans, rolling into you like he could reach your sex through the layers. You rut back, just as desperate for him to be inside of you.

 “Uh…Hello?” Jimin’s voice speaks up again, concerned. You can’t see the door, but you can hear it as it creaks open lightly, can see the light growing from the room outside, casting gold onto the frogs that watch you shudder with wide, impassive expressions. Jimin’s breath hitches inside his throat.

You feel the impact as suddenly Jungkook is wrenched bodily off of you, nearly taking the pajama bottoms with him, his teeth scraping your marks with a sting of pain. You’re thrown violently backwards in the wake of it but are caught in another arm’s embrace, soft sweater fabric cushioning your fall into his Jimin’s chest, his forearm bracing you underneath your armpits.

Shocked, your head whips around, only to both hear and see Jungkook at the end of his arc, flung a ridiculous length across the threshold into the bedroom, slamming into the wooden poster of the bed, legs caving underneath him. You wince in sympathy at the sound when his head snaps against it, but you don’t have the chance to ask if he’s okay. Jimin quickly disengages your limbs to push you behind himself, spreading his arms and legs against the doorway to the bathroom, acting as a physical barrier.

“Jungkook, what the fuck is wrong with you?!” he shouts, and you cower at the unbridled fury in his tone.

You peek under one of Jimin’s arms, peeping with concern at the cherry-haired vampire sprawled at the foot of the bed. But he looks more upset than hurt as his neck lolls and he cradles the back of his head with a wince.

“I—Jimin, I just—“ “You JUST! What the fuck were you thinking?!? Seriously, I could kill you right now, I swear to God—“

“What were you thinking?! Y-You’re just gonna hide her? In this house?? When all of us are starving?”

“That was not my decision!”

“It is your decision to blindly follow it like some kind of sick fucking dog!”

“Fuck you!”

You can see Jimin stiffening, his voice escalating, can see from here the snarl on Jungkook’s face, the way his fangs peek out from his top lip like some kind of animal. He hisses, sharp, angry—and suddenly his head lolls again and his eyebrows pull together like he’s in incredible pain, eyes screwing shut. When he speaks again, it’s no quieter, but it cracks with hurt, desperation.

“I’m so hungry…I’m so fucking hungry.” He chokes. “It hurts, my fucking throat hurts so bad.” His hand drifts to circle around his own neck. You watch his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows thickly. “I can’t see straight anymore, I can’t think. Everything hurts.”

Jimin’s arms waver and he hesitates. As you listen to him lament, your heart breaks, distant and vague, but sympathetic to his obvious suffering if nothing else. Your cunt pulses around nothing, as if to remind you of what’s been interrupted, and the juxtaposition of the two emotions is conflicting to say the least.

“I know.” Jimin’s own voice has dropped to a hoarse whisper. “I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry. You just—you just have to—“

“It doesn’t work anymore!” Jungkook interrupts with a whine. “It doesn’t work, I tried it, Jimin, it doesn’t work. They’re too scared, there’s too few that it works on, I’ve got, I’ve got fucking holes in my shoes from wandering around our tiny little cage trying to find something to fucking eat. Don’t you think I’m trying? I’m trying, but it’s so hard.”

“It—it’s just until Namjoon comes back,” Jimin tries again to be defensive, but you can hear it in his voice; the sympathy, the worry.

“I can smell her in my dreams, when I can manage to actually sleep. I can taste her through the walls. I-I can’t keep doing this. It’s killing me. I’m actually going insane.”

Jungkook shifts to stand shakily, using the bed for support, and Jimin immediately twitches to protect you, pressing you further into the bathroom. His arms are really soft and nice, you kind of want to wrap up in them. Maybe convince his hand downwards? That sounds good. That sounds very good. Your thighs rub together.

“You can’t trust me.” Jungkook says quietly. “Not around her. I’m not going to stop trying to get to her. Namjoon or not.”

“I—“

“I know he already hates me. It’s okay.”

“Jungkook…He—Namjoon doesn’t hate you—”

“You can’t trust me.” Jungkook meets Jimin’s eyes, desperation etched into every crease of his face, tinging every word out of his mouth. “But I trust you.”

“…What are you talking about?”

You’re gauging the distance between Jimin’s fingertips and your pussy. Not too far. You could probably just sidle right up, if he only relaxed that little bit more. You worry at the hem of the hoodie with your own fingertips, debating the pros and cons.

“You could stop me.” Jungkook’s tongue flits out to pass over his lips as he pleads. “You could stop me from taking too much. I trust you.”

Slowly, he begins to stalk closer, one step at a time. Jimin flinches, but he’s also distracted by this new train of thought and doesn’t seem to notice.

“Jungkook, that’s not a…that’s not a good idea.” You can hear Jimin swallowing harshly as he pushes you back further, his resolve wavering.

“Why?” The younger vampire whines again, face crumpling. “Please. Please, just a little, just a taste. A swallow.” He gestures tiredly at the bed, like his arm is too heavy. “We can roll her around on here after? No one has to know.”

“They would know.”

“I’ll take it. I’ll take the punishment. Whatever it is. Please, Jimin. I-I think I’m dying.”

“No—“

“You could have some, too? I’ll take the blame for both of us.”

“—Jungkook—“

“Do you really think you can resist her?” he demands, suddenly angry. He’s managed to slink to within a few feet of your guard. Jimin doesn’t seem to have noticed the dangerous proximity. “You know she gets so wet so easy. You know it doesn’t take much.”

You understand him this time, those terms in particular. As a matter of fact, you’re currently thinking of ways you can work Jimin’s hands into your pants without him realizing. You need something between your legs. Anything to soothe the want flaring there. Hungry. Yes. You know what it’s like to be hungry.

“Don’t you miss the way she tastes?”

Jungkook takes another step, staring his shorter elder down. The blonde automatically lifts one hand as if to push him away, but it’s weak, wary, only placing a palm on his broad chest, briefly straining in warning.

“This is a bad idea.” He protests again, an answering whine coiling about the edges of his speech.

“It is,” Jungkook agrees, his voice low, catching in excitement.

 Fingers curl around one of your wrists and you look down in mild surprise, just in time to watch Jungkook leading your hand around Jimin’s side. He snakes your arm around his still form, to his front. And down. When he presses your hand to his crotch, you suck in a startled breath. The boy in front of you stiffens and sways backwards, but you surge forward with a wave of excitement, realizing just a beat late what he’s inciting.

“This will be better for both of us,” Jungkook murmurs. “I know you’re hungry, too.”

Jimin doesn’t reply as you slide your palm down the front of his skinny jeans timidly, rubbing at the bulge that’s already begun to build there, hidden beneath his sweater. Emboldened by his increasingly sloppy breaths and lack of coherent protest, you grab the zipper and yank it down. When you sneak your hand inside, he makes a high-pitched noise in his throat. His hips buck, thrusting into your eager fingers.

“This is bad,” he hums, chokes. You seek out his cock through the soft fabric of his boxers. “We’re gonna get in s-…so! M-much trou-trouble, ahh…” You curl around the shaft to fish it out and he makes a soft hiccupping sound.

Jungkook tugs at your wrist again and you limply submit it for him, watching in fascination as he drags his tongue against your palm, spitting once, gathering his saliva for you to use. For a brief moment, he leans closer, presses a lingering kiss to your pulse. His eyes meet yours over Jimin’s shoulder and you feel an answering gush of arousal slip from between your neglected folds. You return to your grip around Jimin’s member when he releases you, tugging experimentally, and he shudders into you, keening.

“You couldn’t help yourself.” Jungkook is still talking, mumbling, but you’re watching Jimin’s face as he leans back, finally relaxing into your palm. His head falls backwards and you admire his soft lips drawn into a pout, the way his eyebrows furrow, his eyes squeezed shut. You twist your stroke upwards and his tongue prods at the corner of his mouth, the muscles of his neck constricting around a needy moan. “I hazed her and it-it was too much for you. I made you do it—“

Jimin’s eyes fly open and sharpen, swiveling to glare at Jungkook with a gaze like fire, lips curling with a derisive snort. He snatches at your wrist, pulling you in front of him suddenly, his cock bobbing when he slides gracefully to the side. Markedly less graceful, you stumble, but fall to your knees when he bends your wrist over your head and pushes down pointedly. You’re eye-to-eye with his crotch now, staring straight into the flushed skin, the thick shaft, the feathering of downy hair at his base. Your mouth waters. You glance up at Jungkook, but he’s watching Jimin throw your arm back to your side with a heated expression.

Jimin’s hand slides across the top of your head in what starts out as a petting gesture, but immediately curls into a handful of your hair towards the back, gathering the strands unmercifully in a grip that burns against your scalp. He forces you forward and you gratefully oblige, opening your lips, tongue lolling, welcoming his leaking dick into the wet cavern of your mouth with a fanatical eagerness.

 “Suck my cock,” he hisses down at you, lips curled in a snarl. You lock your lips around him and comply, hollowing your cheeks, slipping your tongue against the heady underside. He tsks sharply through his teeth and you can see the muscles in his thighs twitch, hips thrusting shallowly to meet your motions halfway.

“Fuck, you really like that?” Jungkook coos thickly above you. “You like the fucking taste of cock, baby? Fuck, Tae was right, you’re so fucking nasty…”

You swallow around Jimin in answer, humming with pleasure at the stammered moan that falls from his lips when you do, your throat pulsing around him. You keep your hands by your side obediently, allowing him to maneuver your head exactly where he wants you, using you like his personal fuck toy. They’ll come to you eventually. You know they’ll take care of you.

“You don’t make me do anything,” Jimin growls. There’s a strict dominance in his tone that is completely at odds with his soft boy persona, and yet fits in perfectly with the way he fucks into you, leaking down your throat. “I hazed her first. She was going to go out Jin’s window. This is my fault.”

“Out the window?” Another hand appears on your jaw, squeezing, the thumb prodding for the bulge in your cheek. “Why would you do that when you’ve got all the cock you could ever want, right here?”

You hear a zipper. Excitement rises in your chest. Jimin pulls you off of himself with a harsh tug of your hair, leaving you with a sick plop of saliva, smearing precum across your cheek when his dick bobs against you. You lay a chaste, if sloppy, kiss on the tip and he groans, forcing your head to the side, to meet Jungkook’s member waving in your face expectantly. Again, you open up for him, shuffling at the feeling of arousal pooling in Jin’s pajamas, your nipples rubbing uncomfortably hard against the top, hidden away and too hot inside the hoodie. You whine through your nose, casting a pleading look upwards, but Jungkook only meets your gaze with a blown-out look of lust as Jimin starts encouraging your head down further, sliding you up and down his shaft as you suckle the hard flesh. His eyes roll back and his jaw drops, his hand coming to meet Jimin’s, twining through the strands.

“Fuck, fuck,” he moans, breathless. When his hips jut forward, his cock pushes through your cheeks, spittle leaking from the corners and dripping down your chin. It gets just to the point where you can feel your gag reflex rising and you twitch backwards, but the two of them hold you in place.

“Choke on it,” Jimin commands thickly, pushing you down further. The world shimmers about you and you feel static rising through your chest, up through your throat, your hands flying to tear entreatingly at Jungkook’s thighs as a retch immediately bubbles up in answer. It only lasts a second, your back bowing, your eyes rolling, before Jungkook is tearing both of their hands away and yanking his dick out of your mouth. Air rushes gratefully, harshly, back into your lungs and you cough, hacking, only just managing to catch yourself on the floor with your palms smacking down. Your sight blurs with tears that burn, your throat constricting painfully in protest.

“Fuck, Jimin,” you hear Jungkook chastising, though he’s still having trouble getting his own wind back. Gentle hands this time wind about your arms to lift you up, taking your hand in his as he helps you to sit on the backs of your knees. Large, warm palms cup your cheeks, thumbs brushing away the tears even as you continue to cough, limp in his grasp.

“If Namjoon’s gonna kill us anyway, I’m getting my worth out of this,” Jimin gripes petulantly. “And she’s too responsive.”

“You’re okay,” Jungkook soothes, watching your eyes carefully, ignoring his elder. You gulp down a huge lungful of air, your tears slowing in their descent down your face. He wipes at your cheeks sweetly.

“That was so hot, you did so good, you’re okay,” he repeats. A smile crawls across your spit-slicked expression at the calm that spreads down your form. You look at him with all the adoration in the world while he praises you, the shining sun of your universe, the bright center of your world. You’re okay. You are okay. You pleased him. You did good. He returns your grin.

“You like sucking our cocks, hm?” he hums, almost teasingly, casting a glance down your body. You nod in earnest, feeling the soft skin of his hands rubbing your cheeks as you do. “Good. That’s my good girl.”

He turns to Jimin, who’s watching you get praised with a slack look on his face, stroking his own dick thoughtlessly.

“My present, my rules,” Jungkook frowns, dark. “I don’t want her broken before I even get inside of her. You don’t tell her what to do.”

Jimin’s eyes flick to meet his. “I wasn’t going to break her—“

“Don’t haze her. Or else I’ll send you out.”

“I’d like to see you try.” “Don’t haze her,” Jungkook repeats, raising his brows, his hands slipping from your face. You take the respite to start working the hoodie up and off, suddenly incredibly aware of how stuffy and hot it is inside the thick fabric. “Or else. I’ll send you out.”

“Mm,” the blonde hums, his eyes widening in mock obedience, inclining his head once. “Yes, sir.”

 You lose sight of them as the hoodie passes over your face, but you can feel it grabbed at from the top, shirking it off of you easily. Jungkook reaches for you again and this time he helps you stand on unsteady legs. He leans forward, encouraging your lips to his and you accept his gift thankfully, craning towards him. As he kisses you, gently but hungrily, you feel a wandering hand from behind caressing down your spine, under the pajamas, sending shivers dancing down your frame. Fingers trace your back, down to your ass, slipping a palm up and under a cheek to squeeze it deftly, and you rock back towards it while Jungkook slides his tongue across your lips. Heat flares inside of you, unbearable and yet too good, too perfect. You need more, you need to be touched and kissed and filled.

“She didn’t hate it,” Jimin points out, low, as his fingers sneak further, brushing your cunt.

Jungkook hums warningly, but his own hand slides down your front to fondle at your pussy, pressing a curious digit, two, between your folds. He rubs there, drags through the wetness that oozes from you so easily. The three of you break for a second so they can rip your pajama bottoms off of you with two sets of determined hands, deftly unbuttoning Jin’s top and discarding them to the side of the room, leaving you completely naked between the two men. As strange as it might be, it’s exactly where you should be. How you should be. You don’t even feel embarrassed, only one step closer to what you want.  Jungkook finds your mouth again, reaching up to cup your breast and tease at the nipple with his thumb, sending sparks of pleasure skirting straight to the apex of your thighs.

You break the kiss with a squeal when Jimin’s hand comes down hard on your ass cheek, and then immediately coasts sweetly back between your thighs, dipping one finger inside of you before slipping back out. He slaps you again, and this time as you jolt forwards, Jungkook takes the opportunity to slide straight from your clit to your entrance, sheathing two of his fingers past your quivering walls. Idly, he allows you to ride his hand for a moment, watching you with wide eyes. You’re breathless at the teasing, the butterfly kisses that Jimin peppers across your shoulders and the playful kneading of your backside. When Jungkook takes his fingers from you again you whine in disappointment, but he pops them into his mouth, laving his tongue around his own digits as though savoring the tastiest dessert you could possibly imagine, his eyelashes fluttering closed.

He takes them out with a pop, grabs your hips, spins you around violently, and you almost knock into Jimin, who’d been making his way closer and closer to your back. He grins when you come face-to-face, pupils blown wide, skin flushed prettily, the visage of Lucifer—an angel of sin. He’s discarded both his sweater and his jeans, revealing the compact but powerful muscles usually hidden beneath his cute façade. Jungkook noses into the crook of your neck and you feel his hand curling around your thigh, lifting it, holding you firm. The soft, burning heat of his cockhead brushes your thigh and you give a low moan, circling your hips as if you could convince it inside you faster, the demanding static under your skin growing louder and needier with every inch it gets closer.

Jimin watches you seek out his lips with yours as you slide your arms about his bare, warm shoulders, though he pulls back and smirks at the way you chase after him. He finally allows you to make contact, rushing forward to swallow your lips whole, just before Jungkook sinks effortlessly inside of you. All three of you groan as you slide onto his member, the seemingly endless supply of glistening wetness gushing between your legs making for a smooth glide, stretching your cunt and filling your belly with his hard heat. Jimin kisses you hungrily, devoutly—pecking, sucking, nipping—as Jungkook attacks your neck, on the side opposite your bite marks.

“Does that feel good?” Jimin croons, and your back arches as he pinches sharply at a nipple, licking the corner of your mouth. You nod, humming, trying to keep your wits about you as Jungkook shifts more comfortably and somehow inches even further inside, rubbing against every crevice, fitting you like a glove.

“Me too?” Jimin guides one of your arms off his shoulder, down to his shaft, sandwiched between your bodies, and you wrap your fingers around it just as Jungkook starts to move. “Make me feel good too…” Jimin exhales a plush breath at the feeling when you begin to pump him again, purring at your obedience.

Jungkook keeps your thigh up for easy access to your pussy, which welcomes him in earnest, his cock rocking in and out in a steady rhythm, filling you up good, so good, with every thrust. He pants against your neck, kissing, licking, tasting the sweat that drips from your nape, his free hand holding your hip. The room fills with hums and grunts from the three of you, the wet sounds of your coupling, the gasps from Jimin as he mouths decadently around a nipple and twitches in your palm. You arch back, pushing your breasts into Jimin’s face, your head craning over Jungkook’s shoulder, when slick fingers meet your clit, circling and pressing in time with the thrusts. You don’t even notice Jungkook’s heightening pants and huffs, the way he noses into your skin.

“J-Jimin,” Jungkook suddenly whines, and the panic in his tone is what tears Jimin’s attention away from your chest. “I-I don’t think I can—“

“Not here,” his elder warns, eyes wide with concern. He reaches over your shoulder, leaning closer. He absently shushes your keening when his cock presses against your clit, sliding through your slickness to bump the swollen bundle. You feel Jungkook’s head shifted carefully away from where he’d buried his mouth on your neck, sucking bruising hickeys onto the slender column.

“Not here, not standing,” Jimin repeats, giggling. “Bed. Jungkook, bed. Come on.”

Jungkook growls, but you feel him moving away, peeling his chest off your back and sliding out of your pussy with a sinful noise that steals the breath from three pairs of lungs, the sensation leaving you empty and wanting. You whimper, and Jimin shushes you again.

 As Jungkook steps back, Jimin steps forward, his arms collecting you easily and you almost fall into him. He walks you back, caging you in his body heat, his scent, until you can feel the soft bedsheets at your knees. He pauses there to reach behind you and dig around the blankets. Your eyes meet Jungkook’s over his shoulder. He’s pulling his shirt off of his chest, shirking his jeans to the floor before wrapping his hand around his cock. He strokes himself, eyes blown wide, jaw set tightly in an expression of pure lust. A thrill shudders up your spine and you have to swallow down the saliva that builds in your mouth. He watches you.

“These sheets are so fuckin’ dusty,” Jimin’s complaining idly. Finally, he pulls away enough to lick up your lips, humming his approval when you try to suck his tongue deeper into your mouth. “Lean back.”

You oblige, your gaze casting up to the gold-painted ceiling. You squeak when he pulls you further onto the bed, hoisting you up as he crawls onto it to sit beside your head. It does smell like dust, but he must have peeled the first layer off, the sheets underneath cool against your fevered body.

Jungkook reappears above you, broad hands ghosting up your thighs to push them apart, upwards, cradling the backs of your knees, allowing him the room to slot back between your legs. His maroon hair sticks to his forehead, his neck, frames his far-off expression that burns with such intensity you have a hard time keeping eye contact for too long. Your hips flex upwards, the rushing in your ears building to dizzying volumes, the screaming of every nerve ending for again and more.

“Not her neck, either,” Jimin mumurs as Jungkook lines himself up with your cunt and presses back in with a delicious, slow push. Filling you again, pushing on your legs to get ever deeper, he leans in to attack your lips, sinking down into you. You moan at the feeling, at the way he bites and nips, the way he rolls his pelvis to stroke at your walls. “Not her arteries. Nothing major.”

You arch, swallowing him further, and he growls thick, hips snapping.

“Hey! Listen to me!” Jimin complains, though his hand appears to curl around yours, tugging it back behind your head. His cock slides between your fingers and he molds your hand around it. You comply, jerking him off as best you can while Jungkook begins a strong pace inside you, your ass pressed to his lap, your feet dangling in the air beside your head. The bed creaks beneath you.

“I’ll bite her chest, right next to her heart,” Jungkook mumbles. “I’ll suck her dry right from her fucking tit.”

Jimin groans, deep, thrusting into your hand. “N-not dry, not dry, remember, Kookie. We need to be good, remember. Good boys.”

You can’t think, you can’t do anything but bounce as Jungkook pistons into you with the strength of a runaway bull, holding himself up on his toes for leverage just to make sure there’s no inch of you unfucked. His dick parts your pussy like it was made for him, brushing against your g-spot deep inside, sending your legs into spasm every time he bottoms out. It’s too much, it’s too good, a rising pyre building inside of you of yes and more and please. Your head throws back and you cry out, cut off abruptly when Jimin slaps a palm over your mouth.

“T-too loud, fuck, shh,” he hisses, hand flexing as you continue to moan and whine, muffled now, breasts jumping along with the rhythm.

 You don’t hear the door open.

But you do hear it close, clicking behind a new entrant into your depravity. You feel Jungkook stiffen, panting, dropping your legs as if to hide your body beneath him, his forearms falling to either side of you possessively, head whipping to the side. Jimin pauses with a sharp intake of breath, his hand stilling yours against his cock. You whine, humping upwards, but they’re momentarily distracted by whatever—whoever—it is that you can’t see, your view obscured by the sweat-drenched maroon mop on the back of Jungkook’s head.

A beat passes.

 “Tae.” Jungkook barks, exasperated. His body jiggles with the force of the shout, and you try to use it to your advantage to garner more movement but he remains still above you.

“Nobody in this fucking house ever knocks, what is the point of even having doors,” Jimin bitches under his breath. “Fuck, Tae, I thought you were Namjoon.”

“I’m not Namjoon.” You hear Tae’s distinctive, deep rumble reply, though he sounds distracted.

“Good for you. We’re busy, fuck off.”

“Is that the human girl?”

“None of your fucking business—“

“—Don’t tell anyone—“ Jimin tries to butt in, pleading.

“’Don’t tell anyone’, Jesus, I could hear you downstairs, could smell her through the vents—“

“Mind your own business Taehyung—“

“I was minding my own business, I had my fucking headphones in and I could still hear the three of you—“

“Get OUT, Taehyung—“

“—sounding like a fucking elephant orgy—“

“Tae!” Jimin shouts, commanding. Jungkook starts up again with a tsk, but Jimin quickly cuts him off. “Jungkook! Please! Come on, seriously. Who knows how long we have until they come home? We don’t have time for this.”

“Tell him to go away, Jimin.”

“I want in.” Taehyung interrupts.

“What?”

“I want in, you said I could fuck her mouth, I want in.”

Jimin sounds deceptively calm from above you, his voice like sugar and poison. “When did you say that?”

“Not important!” Jungkook shrieks, jerking upwards, hand thumping into the sheets by your side. He inadvertently thrusts into you hard with the motion and has to choke off a rough growl as you clench around him, hips jerking to meet him eagerly. You accidentally lock eyes with Taehyung when he moves out of the way. He stares wide-eyed at you as you moan, low. “Fuck, that is not important right now. She’s—my fucking present—“

“That’s right. She is.” Tae responds levelly, too levelly. He doesn’t blink. Jungkook’s hands fist into the bedsheets on either side of you, his endurance faltering at the feel of you pulsing around his cock so greedily. He pants, hums deep in his chest, smoothly fucking into you, slowly, as he’s if trying very hard not to. “She is your present. And you decide what happens to her.”

The next thrust lifts your ass back onto him and you squeal, still caught in Taehyung’s hypnotizing, half-lidded gaze as his expression drops into that sultry mask you know too well.

“And you said that I could fuck her mouth.”

“I said I would think about it.”

“I think she should get a vote.”

“We aren’t voting—“

“What do you think, hmm?”

“Don’t answer him.”

“Answer me.”

You’re already babbling, Jungkook’s steadily losing battle with keeping his pelvis in check encouraging the words that bubble up from your throat instantly, summoned forth by the powerful haze dancing through Taehyung’s velvet tone. Your mouth hanging open, breasts again beginning to jerk with each thrust, eyes threatening to roll back, you spit like someone possessed, speaking in tongues.

“Yes,” you hiccup, as if you can’t get it past your lips fast enough, “Yes, yes, I want to taste his cock, I want to taste him, feel him in my mouth, please, Jungkook, please, I want it so bad, I do want him to fuck my mouth, please let him fuck my mouth, please, Jungkook.”

The side of Taehyung’s mouth flicks upwards at your confession, his eyes blinking slow.

“See?” His tongue flits out before he raises his eyebrows pointedly.

Jimin’s hand covering yours squeezes your fingers around his member, convincing it upwards, and stroking down once more as he begins to speak, thoughtfully.

“He could help,” he points out, distant. He rolls forward, flexing into your palm with a soft exhale. “He could help, and we could all keep an eye on each other. It would be—hm—it would be easier than just me trying to keep you from going too far.”

“I’ll tell Jin if you don’t let me in,” Tae adds.

“Fine! Fuck, fine. You’re such a dick.”

Jungkook leans over, pulling your attention back to him. He plants a sloppy trail of kisses over your collarbone and neck, sucking a path up to your lips. When he cranes away, you separate with a slick pop and he huffs.

“Help me move her,” he mutters. He peels himself up off of you, wincing when he slips out of you. You grab for him, trying to get him back inside your warmth, but he collects your wrists with one wide hand. You arch, whining. Another set of hands curl underneath your arms to haul you back, and you scoot with the motion obediently until you can lay your head back over the edge of the bed. Jungkook relinquishes your wrists and they fall limply to your sides.

“What do you think you’re doing?” You hear him complain sharply.

“It’s my turn to fuck her pussy,” Jimin growls back, and you hear shifting by your legs, the violent tugging on your thighs to face a direction so you can more comfortably hang over the edge. “You’ve had long enough.”

“Some fucking birthday present.”

“I’m not having a hand job for my last meal while you hog her cunt.”

“You’ll last longer if you’re not always inside her, anyways. Right?” Taehyung moves into your field of view. He’s already rid himself of his clothes, his long, thick cock straining into the air just by your face. When you feel his hand caress through your hairline, circling your throat, you hum your approval, already twisting to convince him into your mouth. He giggles, once, fingers drifting to purse your lips while his other hand curls around his base and guide it through your jaw—hot, heavy, feverish against your tongue.

“Good girl,” he praises deeply, “God, so good. Relax. You’re okay.”

You are okay. The deeper he goes into your throat, the better it feels, sliding downwards, your nose pressing into where his testicles hang. His grip returns to your neck and you shudder, whimpering, when he squeezes ever-so-slightly, as if only to feel for the lump he makes inside your throat. Meanwhile, hands are petting your legs, slipping across your thighs, flicking occasionally at your clit, opening your folds, rubbing. Finally, there is another prickhead warming your entrance, teasing upwards before sinking back down and pressing inside of your cunt. Jimin isn’t quite as long as Jungkook, but he’s thicker, and the way he stretches you around him has you bucking, waves of pleasure cascading underneath your skin, making you dizzy. Your vision spins when he thrusts, testing, and lets loose a thick growl.

A hand takes your wrist and leads it impatiently to another dick, sticky and slick with your essence. Jungkook groans as you clamp down on him, jerking him vigorously.

The cock down your throat twitches, and Tae’s hips rock lightly, almost teasing, eliciting loud sounds of suckling interrupted, filling your ears. Jimin begins a rough pace inside of your cunt, alternating deep, powerful thrusts with long, slow glides, and the juxtaposition makes you quiver around him, legs shaking where he’s pressed you into the bed. It’s so good, it’s so good, so slick, cocks inside of you and against you and fucking into you with perfect synchronicity, tears build up in the corners of your eyes, joining the slobber as it dribbles down your cheeks, pleasure building in your gut fit to burst; close, so close. Above you, the heavy breaths from Tae, soft gasps from Jimin, grunts from Jungkook, the pathetic whimpering of your own, muffled voice, the sopping sounds as you’re used so thoroughly.

 “F-Fuck, I’m—I’m gonna—“ Jungkook whines, tsking through his teeth as he humps into your palm, his hand forcing yours tight around his cock. A tongue slithers over a peak of your breast, gathering your nipple in a wet, sloppy kiss before relinquishing with a ‘plop’, swollen lips humming against your skin.

“Go-go ahead, Kookie,” Jimin stammers, tenderly. “Go ahead, I’ve got you.”

Taehyung’s grip on your throat curls tighter, depriving your lungs of precious air as he begins to fuck steadily into your mouth, but you’re good, you’re okay, you’re so wet and so good, allowing for the slide of his dick through your throat. Your eyesight shimmers and bursts with every twitch of pleasure, humping along with Jimin’s strong, insistent hips, feeling entirely full and perfect and almost, almost there.

The mouth reappears on your tit, mouthing wantonly, dirtily, and you arch for more of it. It travels inwards, placing a brief kiss to the valley between your breasts before harshly suckling at the pulpy flesh of the opposite slope. A thumb presses to your clit, circling with every motion of Jimin’s girth parting your cunt smoothly and the simultaneous fondling, kissing, grunting quiet approval, has the room whirling around you. It builds inside you even further, rushing up through your toes, dashing over your body like an unstoppable tidal wave, every limb tingling in anticipation, back bowing off the bed, muffled moans drawn from your chest with every movement.

“Cum for us,” Tae grunts, so quiet you almost don’t hear him.

The sensation of teeth piercing your skin floods your entire frame with only a second of pain, but is quickly overwhelmed by pleasure so strong that you seize, neck craning, hips humping, legs going into spasm. Your vision goes white and you’re screaming as you finally cum, your entire body shaking, lifted off the bed with the force of it, even as three pairs of hands pin you down. Someone above you curses, grunts, and through the crashing force of your orgasm, you feel warmth painting your insides, the cock between your thighs pulsing against the clenching of your pussy, the digits rubbing your clit faltering, clawing, as your pelvis bounces unforgivingly, bruising, bringing with it surge after surge of gratification. The member in your mouth throbs and suddenly there are ropes of hot semen painting the inside of your throat, even as he ruts fiercely, forcing it deeper, clutching your throat around himself, snarling like an animal. Between your fingers, you feel the swelling of cock, the way it leaks and finally spurts wet heat up your wrist and arm.

The lips at your breast take that first pull of your blood, the first decadent sip and your back almost snaps in half. Your vision whites out with a flash and you’re screaming again, hoarse, briefly aloud as Tae slips out of you but clamps a hand over your mouth, unable to stop the flood of cum that falls from your open jaw and oozes lewdly from the corners. He says something but you can’t understand, you’re thrashing and writhing in their grasp, focused so entirely on the feel of Jungkook’s gentle kiss, the sensation of being fed from, like everything in your veins is his to take, like everything you’re made of belongs to him, belongs to the way he suckles at your sweet life force.

You’re sweating, panting, shivering, mindless, caught in this timeless space between the caress of his tongue and the world you’ve left behind. Voices, hummed and muttered. Hands, brushing hair back from your forehead, travelling to your lips, gripping your hip, dancing up your torso, clutching your legs. The lips, teeth, leave your breasts with a break of suction that you feel more than hear, spurring another twitch from your exhausted, heavy body at the brief thrill that hurts.

But quickly, they’re replaced. Another pair of lips, plump, frenzied, insistent, drawing from you like a prize won. Your breast aches, but it’s immaculate, it’s right and what little strength you can summon from your limbs propels one arm upwards. It’s made of stone, of marble, too heavy, too hard, and even as your sight begins to clear into blurred shapes and smeared colors, you have trouble maneuvering it around the two pairs of everything you see. Initially, another hand bats it away from your intended trajectory, the one relinquishing your mouth to allow your whines and moans full volume, and it pushes your arm to the side. But even as you waver, you’re finally allowed to make contact with the head of hair pressed to your chest. Strands of hair, some slick with sweat, decorating the warmth of the head above you. You weave your fingers into it and tug it closer, curling towards the puff of amused air that answers, the gentle hum before the second mouth also disengages. He leans away from you but takes your hand with him, long fingers disentangling yours from his hair to clasp around them instead. He holds you against his warm palm, presses an affectionate kiss to the back of your hand. You don’t have long to be disappointed at the interruption.

With the other moving out of the way, the light from above flashes in your eyes and even though it’s too bright, too much, it gives you the brief glimpse of the sweet, hungry smile of the next face to drift to your breast. You slip your free hand into his shining, blonde hair as he kisses you, too, brushes his tongue against your skin to collect the beads of ruby essence gathering there, spikes of pain coiling into deep pleasure to make you gasp when he begins to suck, plump lips stroking the flesh. He doesn’t stay with you as long as the others, but he remembers to press a modest, lingering kiss to the wound that makes your heart flutter before he cranes up and out of your fading vision.

Your afterglow sinks into your limbs, makes you limp, tired, but sated and warm. The bed rises to claim you, swallowing you whole, as the painting above spirals and winds about itself. The flashes of gold, the glimmering of so many details, are beautiful, distracting, and there are palms against your cheek now, voices buzzing in your ears that you can’t decipher. They brush more hair from your face, and as you dully watch the painting drift off of the ceiling to reach for you, intertwine tendrils of painted sunlight with your arms and legs, you feel yourself being moved, from one cloud to another, your head now supported by a cushion. You’re grateful for that. Makes it easier to watch the ceiling dissolve into gold dust, turning into a shower that feels cool against your face. You can almost taste it, like a breath of fresh air. It makes you feel at peace.

More voices, getting louder, faster. Tapping, prodding, all over, but it’s no longer your body that they’re touching. You’re in the ceiling, being dissolved with the painting.

The curtains surrounding the world draw closed, and your vision shuts out.

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[yukayjei]

Linked Universe FanFic: No Courage Without Fear, Part 2

Super excited to continue this @linkeduniverse fanfiction! Tracking the Wizzrobe isn’t as easy as it appears. Our Heroes will need to jump through a few hoops first!

[Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3] [Part 4]

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“I was almost convinced that Wizzrobe is a ghost,” Hyrule admitted as they reached the top of the hill, “but no ghost leaves footprints.”

Under the light of the moon, the Wizzrobe’s footprints were easy to find. True, it had teleported away, but it left two distinct imprints where it had stood. Where it had gone was unclear, but Hyrule suspected it hadn’t traveled far. Wizzrobes could only warp short distances.

“Ghosts aren’t usually malicious, to my knowledge,” Sky replied, swerving to avoid a lone pine tree. “Though I have only met one,” he added with a laugh.

“Every ghost I’ve met has been nothing but trouble. As if all they want is to inflict the same pain and unrest they feel.” Hyrule’s face darkened like thunder as he recalled his first adventure. “All I did was accidentally bump into their graves! Accidentally!”

“They might want something to ease their pain,” Sky grinned, restraining laughter at his friend’s grumpiness. “My ghost wanted paper.”

Hyrule almost tripped over a stray rock. “Paper! What on earth for?”

Sky, now walking backwards so he could face him, gave him a funny look. “For the toilet, of course!”

“Why in the name of the Triforce would a— you know what? I don’t want to know.”

“I actually didn’t give any to her, yet she still went away.” Sky shrugged and resumed walking normally by his side. “I guess ghosts are just finicky.”

Hyrule raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t share with a ghost? You, who’d share a meal with an ant? I’m surprised.”

Sky glanced away, a tiny, secretive smile etched across his face. “Let’s just say someone else needed it more.”

Hyrule opened his mouth to press him with more questions, only to see something that made him stop dead in his tracks. Sky, noticing the tension, stopped as well, and followed Hyrule’s gaze to the flattened grass in front of them.

“Well, that’s weird,” the latter noted.

“Another pair of footprints,” Hyrule muttered, running a hand through his hair. “Right at the forest’s edge. There’s no telling where it is now.”

Said forest, upon closer examination, was denser than it appeared. Trees were packed so closely together that all moonlight had been blocked out.

Sky exhaled slowly. “That’s a tight fit,” he mumbled under his breath.

Hyrule frowned, his brow furrowed as he wracked his brain for answers. “It couldn’t have gotten far. Maybe it warped further inside. We probably should— HEY!”

The outburst nearly made Sky jump out of his skin. Snapping his eyes back to the forest, for just a fleeting second, he saw a pair of bloodred eyes stared out at the Heroes. Then, just as quickly, they blinked and were gone.

Trying to ignore his pounding heart, Sky drew the Master Sword. “Well, it’s definitely in there.” He addressed Hyrule, only to find himself gazing upon empty air. He turned back to the forest. Hyrule was already three steps ahead, Magic Sword already drawn, and charging into the inky shadows.

“Hey, wait!” Sky hurried after him.

…………………………

At first, there was just enough moonlight to make out obstacles a few feet ahead, such as overgrown roots and low-hanging branches. But Sky had barely made it ten steps in before every last drop of weak, white light vanished, swallowed up by the darkness. All sound and motion ceased as well.

While his eyes adjusted, Sky strained to see any sign of the Hero of Hyrule. Unfortunately, it felt like trying to peer through a thick black curtain. With absolutely no light to bounce off his eyes, he may as well have been blind.

“There’s no way he got that much of a head start,” Sky muttered to himself. “Then again, he has a candle, and I don’t.”

A brilliant idea popped into his head. Holding the Master Sword aloft, he pointed it skyward. A pale blue light trailed up from hilt to tip. The brightness pierced his eyes, but when he managed to look, a mystical aura-like radiance surrounded the blade.

It did not have the fuller range of a regular flame, but it lit his surroundings enough to guide him a few feet at a time. Reassured, he proceeded forward with all the haste he could muster, praying that Hyrule wasn’t too far away. Hylia forbid the Wizzrobe find him first!

His eyes swept over the forest, hoping for the warm flicker of the lantern’s fire. A wintry chill had set in, and the temperature steadily dropped further and further. Sky shivered, not because he was cold— his former home, Skyloft, had always been on the nippy side— but because of how unsettling the whole environment was. Not even the slightest breeze stirred the trees’ leaves; they may as well have been made of stone. All sound— his footsteps, his breathing— was suppressed to the point where it pressed on his eardrums.

Getting lost in these creepy woods was not an idea he wished to entertain. He thought he had a good grip on his direction, but he was starting to wonder if the forest had a conscience of its own, if it wanted to get him lost. At first he thought that was a stupid, paranoid thought, but the deeper he ventured in, the closer the trees grew together. He kept bumping into them, kept getting swatted in the face by low-hanging branches. Still, he tried to shake it off…until he dared to look back.

Blocked. Completely sealed by tall trees packed so closely, you together couldn’t fit a blade between the gaps. Nausea and dread punched his stomach like a cannonball. He and Hyrule had walked straight into a death trap. The Wizzrobe’s wicked curse overpowered the forest’s natural order, literally bending it to the monster’s wishes.

The sound of his rapid breathing faded in and out, until all he could hear was his heart, pounding against his ribcage like a hammer. His mouth felt dryer than Lanayru Desert. His shoulders instinctively hunched in a defensive posture, and he eyed the trees warily.

This artificial cage reminded him of Eldin’s dark, cramped tunnels he was forced to crawl through on several occasions. Each and every time, he felt like he was suffocating, like there was no space for air. He’d hated them. Hated them so much. He could accept everything new and different the Surface threw at him, except that. Being so confined went against everything he knew. Never again. He did it for Zelda, but never again.

These cursed trees��they were too close. Just like before. Too close. An invisible hand squeezed his lungs. The world spun, pressing in on him, and he shut his eyes to steady himself. Blood roared in his ears. No one knew where he was. And his body would never be found. He would die here, die alone—

A familiar chime brought him back. He gasped and opened his eyes.

Her dazzling blue light faded in and out, like a cloud passing over the Sun. But each time she glowed, there was that sharp, clear ring. The one he always heard when she was about to speak to him.

C’mon, deep breaths, he told himself, forcing down the panic rising in his gut. Deep breaths. And though it took several tries, he succeeded in doing so.

The Sword did not actually speak, but she did not need to. The reminder of her presence alone was enough to calm him, at least somewhat.

The Skyward Strike fizzled out, stranding him in the dark. Quickly, he charged another one; this wasn’t as easy as the first time because his hand still trembled. But when the soft blue glow infused the blade once more, his nerves settled a bit more. To him, it was a sign the forest hadn’t succumbed completely to the Wizzrobe; as long as there was light, evil hadn’t won.

Besides, he would not turn back, even if he could. Hyrule still needed to be found, and the Wizzrobe vanquished. So, drawing one last deep breath, he pressed on, holding the Master Sword high.

He wasn’t sure how far he’d gone before he spotted the lantern’s familiar glimmer. An ear-splitting battle cry shattered the eerie silence into a thousand pieces. Hyrule! He found the Wizzrobe!

Sky ran faster than he’d ever run before. He tore across the grass, leaped through the narrow gaps between the trunks. He kept banging into trees, kept almost losing his footing. Low branches whipped and scratched his face.

The wind howled, hailing the presence of the evil abomination waiting for him. All subtlety lost, the trees shifted with groans comparable to a Hinox’s, forced to unnaturally pull themselves into a silently commanded formation. A literal wall began filling in before his eyes. They were trying to cut him off. But they weren’t quick enough.

He dashed at a full sprint. Already he was at his limit, but raw fear and determination boosted his speed to that of a maniac’s. Just before the gap closed, he hurled himself through, bowling over the Hero of Hyrule, snuffing out his lantern.

“Sorry!” Sky gasped as he untangled himself.

“Where’d it go?” Hyrule scrambled to his feet, grabbing for his dropped Magic Sword.

Just a few yards ahead, the Wizzrobe cackled gleefully at the Heroes’ unexpected mishap. It conjured massive fireballs in its clawed hands and hurled them faster than speeding arrows.

Sky and Hyrule easily dodged sideways, so the fireballs crashed into the wall of trees behind them instead. The heat in the air skyrocketed as the forest shot up in flames like dry grass. Worst of all, the fire, as unchecked fires do, was rapidly spreading to all it could touch. The Wizzrobe grinned and disappeared.

Hyrule uttered, “Uh-oh.”

“Run!” Sky yelled, turning on his heel and tearing for the second closing gap he’d faced in less than two minutes. A race against an infernal ring of fire, twenty feet high.

Hyrule sprinted behind him, hot on his tail. But the ring closed just a few feet before they made it. They were trapped.

“Oh, goddesses!” Sky shouted over the blaze’s roar. He broke into a coughing fit, for thick smoke billowed everywhere.

“Don’t panic!” Hyrule commanded, leaping back as a large tongue of fire snaked towards him. “We’ll figure it out!”

He’s right, Sky forced himself to focus. Using one hand to cover his mouth and nose with the sailcloth, the other fumbled around his pouch. Gust Bellows. His bag of winds. Maybe he could blow it out. No. The wind would only spread the flames even more.

There was the great moaning of a massive tree felled by the fire. Sky hurled himself out of the way as it crashed to the ground, separating the Heroes.

“Hylia, help us,” he whispered through the thick fabric. The smoke stung his eyes, making them water. Everything was red, orange, yellow. Dark and bright at the same time. The heat waves distorting the air were dizzying. Disorienting. Hotter than Eldin Volcano.

Close by, Hyrule had just cast a Shield Spell on himself to avoid a nasty burn from the spitting tongue, but it was only a temporary fix. He wracked his brain for a solution, but all he could see was the wall of fire towering over him, slowly bearing down.

If only he could sprout wings and fly.

If only he were flameproof.

If only—

“That’s it!!” they shouted in unison.

Hyrule crouched down and began chanting. At once, his legs gained an almost weightless feeling. Taking a running start, he rushed forward and cleared the wall in a single, effortless leap.

Sky clapped his hands to his ears, though this was just a reaction to how stupid he felt. How could he forget that he had fireproof earrings? The fire would be hot, sure, but he would not be touched. And sure enough, when he dashed through the wall and reunited with Hyrule, he emerged completely unscathed.

“I feel like a complete idiot,” Sky related as they caught their breath. “Serves me right for almost losing it.”

“Me, too, but I’m just glad we’re alive.” Hyrule brushed sweat off his forehead and dusted ash off his clothes. “Amazing, huh?” He jerked his thumb towards the ring, which mysteriously shrank to the size of a campfire. “It stopped spreading outward, and only went inward. I’d say we’re in the clear— for now, at least.” As he spoke, the fire poofed out of existence in a puff of multicolored smoke.

“Guess the Wizzrobe didn’t count on us escaping.” Sky shrugged. “At least we don’t have to worry about the entire forest catching on fire. The old man would kill us.”

Their relief was dashed into tiny pieces when the Wizzrobe reemerged from the shadows.

[pyromania2667]

The Dancer

"A new monster walks around here, regal, poised, she looked like royalty, if not for the hundreds of blades attatched to her gown. Her gait swayish, as if she owned the lands...  the only thing she's missing is a crown."

(introducing “The Dancer”, a fan made killer for DBD)

Name: Isabella Amalia

DLC: Danse Macabre

Gender: Female

Age: 31

Difficulty: Easy

Height: Tall

Ethnicity: Spanish

Realm: The Grand Hall (I may describe this later)

Weapon: Finger Claws

Speed: 115% (4.6 m/s)

Terror Radius: 32 meters

Isabella Amalia was always a competitive sort. Her parents enrolled her in soccer at a young age and she excelled at it, unfortunately for everyone else against her, she was unruly and whether by demoralization or injury, Isabella would defeat her opponents.

It didn’t take long for Isabella to be kicked out of soccer for being needlessly violent, so she looked for another hobby to pass the time. Eventually in high school Isabella’s eyes fell upon dancing, and she poured her heart and soul into the sport for the years to come. Personally, she didn’t like doing duets, and preferred solo dances, but as an adult, the only contests worth anything to her required a duet.

Fernando Rodriguez was destined to be her partner in the class, despite being an older classman, Fernando did not hesitate to try his moves on and off the floor. Isabelle despised every moment with her new arrogant partner, but she knew he skills were impeccable compared to the other people she knew, and Isabelle needed to win the contests she participated in.

On the day of one of the most important contests they were together in, Fernando became sluggish, as he was dealing with his own personal problems. Isabelle’s spite grew further, not wanting to lose due to some petty feelings of her partner, Isabelle knew she had to sabotage the competition, she was determined to win the diamond tiara.

Time grew near for people to begin their performances, and Isabelle was prepared for every situation. She poured alcohol into the water of some of the contestants before they began. Unfortunately Fernando witnessed her devious plan and reported her, as he couldn’t stand someone tampering with another’s art.

Enraged at her betrayal, Isabelle was determined to get her prize. She revealed hidden blades from beneath her dress and claws attached to her gloves, attacking everyone she could; Isabelle was determined to get her prize.

Police were called in, after a few minutes they arrived at the scene to people with several lacerations and cuts, what few survivors remained couldn’t recall where the offender ran off to, but they noted her strange obsession with the diamond tiara reward.

The Dancer is tall and lithe, (similar height to the floating nurse), with her brown hair tied into a bun. She wears a tiara, and a red flamenco dress with several small knives at the end of the frills. The Dancer has light footsteps and constantly sashays almost as if she were dancing everywhere she went.

The Dancer’s weapon of choice is her Finger Claws used to slice through her competition and come out on top.

The Dancer’s Power: Prance

Using her natural talent for dancing, The Dancer performs her favorite move; twirling forward to slice through her opponents.

Use the alternate action key to charge for a brief moment before rapidly spinning forward

You will move straight forward and deal 1 stage of damage to the first survivor you come in contact with

Prance has a .65 second windup time (indicated by a brief bow) and she will dart quickly forward at 160% speed over a distance of 12 meters (in 1.8 seconds). Missing or hitting a survivor will cause her to spin around for a second once she travels the set distance. Colliding with terrain will cause her to stop abruptly and readjust herself for 1.5 seconds.

The Dancer will swipe with her left hand in an arc in front of her whenever she attacks. She will rub her fingers together after a successful attack. (She will carry survivors on the right side of her because her weapon is on the left hand.)

Mori - (Surv POV) (Camera facing in front) You attempt to stand up by yourself before The Dancer swipes at your back, pushing you down, giving you a worms eye view of her and you, with a twirl, the camera pans until you are out of sight as she slams her heel down, grinning as you scream.

(Killer POV) (Camera remains in 1st person) You walk toward the survivor trying to stand up as you then swipe at their back, pushing them down, as they lie on the ground you spin around for a moment as you dig your heel into their head, twisting your foot around as they scream.

The Dancer’s perks, Overexertion, It Takes Two to Tango, and Sway With Me help her punish survivors trying to escape from her.

The Dancer’s Perks:

Overexertion - Your presence alone makes survivors doubt themselves and try harder at the cost of their strength, exhausted survivors within your terror radius suffer from the hindered status effect (5%) and take an additional 10 / 15 / 20 seconds to recover from exhaustion if exhaustion triggers while in your terror radius. This also applies to exhaustion triggered by the killer.

“Try all you want, I will always win.” - Isabella Amalia

Unique to The Dancer until Level 30, at which point its Teachable version can then be learned and taught to the other Killers

It Takes Two to Tango - Whenever a survivor within 28 meters uses an exhaust perk, gain a 6 / 8 / 10% Haste bonus for 8 seconds.

“You think you’re the only one who has moves? Watch me do me.” - Isabella Amalia

Unique to The Dancer until Level 35, at which point its Teachable version can then be learned and taught to the other Killers

Sway With Me - Your presence alone instills feelings of inadequacy among others. Survivors in your terror radius stagger 30 / 40 / 50% more from falling and have their vault speed reduced by 10 / 15 / 20%, you may now catch healthy survivors who fail to do a running vault.

"No puedes bailar por tu vida, ¿esperas aprender algo de mí?" - Isabella Amalia

*Pallet vaults are not considered running vaults and thus healthy survivors can be grabbed out of them

Unique to The Dancer until Level 40, at which point its Teachable version can then be learned and taught to the other Killers

Example Addons

Common:

Worn Stiletto - A worn stiletto that might have once been used for dancing. Slightly increases the movement speed of your power (5%)

Participation Award - An award simply for showing up to a contest. Slightly decreases the windup of your power (.15 sec)

Uncommon:

Foam Soles - Soft and comfortable, the foam helps people with aching feet. Slightly increases the distance of your power (3 meters)

Rusted Knives - Rusty knives attached to your dress to inflict nasty wounds to any survivor you may hit. Survivors hit by your power suffer from the mangled status effect until fully healed.

Rare:

Fancy gloves - Fancy gloves that can put an entire outfit together. If you don’t hit a survivor or collide into terrain with your power, gain 5% haste for 8 seconds

Poison Tipped Knives - A slow acting poison applied to each dagger of your dress to hinder a survivor’s ability to breathe. Damaging a survivor with your power afflicted the exhaustion status effect for 30 seconds

Very Rare:

Diamond Tiara - A tiara made from diamond, awarded to first place at the dance contest. Tremendously increases the speed of your power (25%) Slightly increases the windup of your power (.15 sec) If you do not hit a survivor or collide with terrain, spin back to your starting position. "Finalmente, algo para que coincida con mi belleza exterior".

Potent Alcohol - A potent mix of alcohols used to intoxicate the only person who stood a chance against The Dancer in a contest, It is applied to each knife and injected directly into the blood of any survivor it hits. Survivors damaged by your power suffer from the hindered status effect (15%) until fully healed.

Ultra Rare:

Iridescent Heels - These heels constantly sparkle with a malevolent energy. You have complete turn control during your power.

Iridescent Necklace - The beautiful piece of jewelry constantly sparkles with a malevolent energy. Moderately decreases the speed of your power (10%). Until you collide with a survivor or terrain, you will spin indefinitely.

Diamond Splinter -  Allows you to take on the role of The Dancer for the next trial. Your current Perks and Add-ons will not be used.

"Este será mi primer baile esta noche"

Introducing: Fernando Rodriguez

"I was shocked to see a man, dressed in flamboyant clothing approach me. He held out a hand, a gesture of chivalry, almost as if he were asking for a dance. I was unsure of his intent, but he was surprisingly swift in coaxing me to work with him."

DLC: Danse Macabre

Age: 34

Role: Charming Consort

Ethnicity: Spanish

Difficulty: Intermediate

Fernando was always a dashing man, figuratively and literally. He had a knack for dancing and charming the other students. Dancing was all just a game to him, and the goal was to win over the heart of his partner.

After he graduated from college, Fernando had successfully won the heart of his soulmate, Amelie Adelaide, and he’d dance for her every night, wanting to make the most out his talent for his dearest.

It was not his idea, but Amelie’s to go into competitions, as Fernando preferred his sport to be recreational, but money grew short, and it was the most readily available option. He found a beautiful young woman who went by Isabelle, vain and stubborn, she was a fierce dance partner and the only one who could keep up with him.

Despite their constant duets and practices together, Isabelle never seemed to like Fernando, nor could he like her back, as there was always a sense of dread that followed her.

Time passed and Amelie was quick to leave Fernando when the money fell short. Heartbroken and upset, Fernando lost his will to continue dancing, especially for the competition, as the only reason why he entered was for Amelie. He watched as Isabelle tried to sabotage the other contestants, furious with her actions, Fernando reported her. Unfortunately Isabelle was an explosion waiting to burst, and the other contestants were caught in the fire. Fernando ran as far as he could before Isabelle could catch up with him.

Fog began to role in after what seemed like an hour of running and before he knew it, Fernando awoke beside a campfire.

Fernando’s Perks, Follow My Lead, Duet, and Strides, allow him and his allies to quickly maneuver through the realm.

Fernando’s Perks

Follow My Lead - Whenever you use an exhaust perk, survivors within 20 meters gain 10 / 15 / 20% haste for 5 seconds.

“Care for a dance? It’s fine if you don’t know how, I’ll lead the way.” - Fernando Rodriguez

Unique to Fernando Rodriguez until Level 30, at which point its Teachable version can then be learned and taught to the other Survivors

Duet - If you are by only one other survivor that is within 14 meters, you both gain a 6 / 8 / 10% action speed bonus, the action speed bonus is tripled while not on a generator. If you are not within the killer’s terror radius both of you gain a 15% haste bonus.

“It takes two to tango, care to join me?” - Fernando Rodriguez

Unique to Fernando Rodriguez until Level 35, at which point its Teachable version can then be learned and taught to the other Survivors

Strides - You are able to perform quick strides with your constant physical endurance. While healthy and during a sprint, Press the Activation key to quickly stride forward. (250% speed for 1 second)

“¿Crees que puedes superarme, niño?” - Fernando Rodriguez

Strides cannot be used while Exhausted

Causes exhaustion for 30 / 25 / 20 seconds.

Fernando has short, black hair and wears a black flamenco shirt with red frills and black dancing pants with black shoes.

Don’t forget to check out my first killers, The Reticent, The Goliath, and The Houndmaster

[thereluctantinquisitor]

Please may I request “You fainted, straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention, you didn’t have to go to such extremes.” for Ralon! I miss that charming, handsome lad.

Now, because Ralon has no canon pairing, I went with the one character who seems to be absolutely everywhere, because odds are their paths would have crossed...

So here we have it! Ralon and... Scout Jim. In which it is an abnormally hot day, and Scout Jim is not coping well running messages in his hood-and-scarf combo. (Approx 1400 words, most under the cut)

“Sir Lavellan, message for you! Sir!” Scout Jim snapped intoa salute, eyes staring intently, unblinkingly,at Hanin. The tall elven man turned, green eyes gleaming almost dangerously,and Jim swore he felt his knees start to shake. “A-Apologies, Sir!”

How many ‘Sirs’ wasthat? Oh, Maker...

“What is it?” Hanin demanded shortly, turning away from hissquad to stalk over, his heavy boots thudding on the ground. Jim hastily held out apiece of paper in a trembling hand and Hanin snatched it, eyes narrowing as heread. After a few moments of displeased scrutiny, he folded it up and handed it back dismissively. “Tell Leliana I need moreinformation than that before I’ll agree to anything. I understand she trades insecrets, but I am not sending my squad out with only half the details.”

Swallowing tightly, Jim nodded, then turned, hurrying backto the Nightingale. At the top of her tower. Up so, so many stairs.

Maker, why...

When Scout Jim returned for the second time, he was already sweating. The morning was fast growing hot, and with his military-issuehood-and-scarf combo, he swore he was basting like a turkey. “S… Sir Lavellan…?”he puffed as he jogged back onto the training grounds, feeling strangely self-conscious about his running form. The Captain was mid-sparwith a younger man at the other end of the field. Antivan and quick to smile, he actually seemed to be enjoy trading blows with the elvenwarrior. He was the one who noticed Jim and signaled to the Captain. They paused, panting, as Jim approached.

That terrifying glare locked onto Jim almost immediately, and the scout nearly knocked himselfout in his haste to salute. “What now?” Hanin demanded, wiping a hand acrosshis brow, settling his training weapon on his shoulder. Behind him, the youngerman leaned around his Captain’s broad form to peer curiously at Jim.

“Damn... you look like you’ve been running laps,” he noted, thenflashed a reassuring smile, as if to say relax.“Want a drink? Got a waterskin somewhere nearby…”

“Ralon,” Hanin interrupted, glancing back at the man,ignoring Jim for a moment, “go join Darren and Connors. Practice defending fromtwo opponents.”

Smirking, Ralon gave a lazy salute. “Yes sir.” He tossed Jim an apologetic look. ”Hey, don’t go working yourself too hard, all right?” Jim felt his cheeks instantly heat up as Ralon winked then turned to do as instructed,jogging off to meet up with his squadmates.

Then, it was just Jim and Hanin again. The poor scoutwanted nothing more than for the ground to swallow him whole. Anything to be away from that glare. “Well?” Hanin asked, nodding to the parchment. “What is it?”

“O-Oh, right! Sorry, Sir! Um, the Leliana wanted me to give you this. S-Sir.”

The Leliana? What?Jim tried to cover his blunder by practically shoving the piece of paper intoHanin’s waiting hands, hoping desperately that he hadn’t sweated on it toomuch. Unfortunately, it seemed he had, because the Captain frowned at it for a moment beforeholding it up, trying to catch the light and decipher the smudged ink. Breathless, Jim just stared as heread, hoping quietly that this would be the end of it. Unfortunately, his stomach sank tothe soles of his feet as Hanin’s frown deepened.

“It is still not enough. Have her send me our orders. In full. Once Ihave that, I will give her my final answer.”

Was it unprofessional to cry while running messages? Jimwasn’t sure, so he swallowed the devastated lump in his throat and took offagain, jogging painfully back to the rookery.

Why, WHY couldn’t Leliana justhave an office at ground level?

Ralon was taking a break from the sparring, washing down thestale taste of dry air when he noticed that scout from the corner of his eye.The poor bastard was loping towards the training field like he’d been shot with an arrow three hours ago and was on the verge of bleeding out. Lowering his waterskin,Ralon glanced over at Hanin, determined the man was busy showing Darren how todisengage properly from a parry, and then jogged over to the fence’s gate.

“Hey, slow down there,” he teased as the scout draggedhimself to the fence, dragging in ragged, uneven breaths. “You look about twosteps short of keeling over.”

“T… Think… I am,”the poor guy puffed, red-faced and looking a little feverish. “C… Could you… message… Captain…?”

The inflection at the end of the broken sentence left Ralon thinking it was some sort of question. It wasn’t until the scout jutted out a shaking arm, a piece of dampparchment clutched in his hand, that the request finally made sense. “Oh,” he said, stepping closer. “You wantme to bring this to Hanin? Sure, I can do that. You just… sit down or---WHOA!”

Just as Ralon stepped forward to take the parchment, thescout suddenly tipped, eyes rolling back, his legs going limp beneath him. Instinct tookover and Ralon lunged, managing to catch him, the papers fluttering to the groundas he held the limp scout in his arms. Carefully, concerned, Ralon lowered the manto the grass, tugging off his hood and scarf in an effort to help cool him down.

“Hey…” Ralon leaned forward, cupping the scout’s cheek, concerned by how hot his skin was. “Shit... youwith me, buddy?”

After receiving no response, Ralon shifted, about to turnand call out to one of his squadmates to get a healer, when a soft groan drewhis attention back to the fallen scout…

What happened?Scout Jim could feel the blood pulsing in his ears as he groaned, the soundedseeming strangely distant despite it coming from his own throat. He made to situp, only for someone to rest a hand on his shoulder.

“Easy there, friend. Try to stay still for a bit.”

The voice was vaguely familiar, and when Jim turned hishead, he caught sight of a handsome face leaning over him, just a few shortinches away from his own. There was a pinch to the man’s brow – concern – and Jim blinked a few times, trying to reassert hisdominance over his own faculties. “Gotta…” he mumbled, groping blindly in the grass beside him. “... message…”

The man blinked as if in surprise, and then chuckled, shaking his head. “Don’t even think about it. We’re going to be taking baby steps for a while here.” Jim didn’t argue as the man slipped a supporting hand behind his neck. “Let’s get you sitting up, first, then some water into you, okay? On three.One… Two…”

True to expectation, the man helped Jim sit up on the countof three, manoeuvring him until he was propped against the fence. The nextthing Jim knew, a waterskin was being pushed gently into his hands, already unstoppered.

“W… What happened?” Jim mumbled, shakily raising it to hislips and taking a small sip. The water was warm, now, but Jim hardly cared.

The man, who Jim now recognised as Ralon, flashed abrilliant grin. “You fainted, straight into my arms.” He laughed brightly asJim's face immediately turned a startling shade of red. “You know, if you wanted myattention, you didn’t have to go to such extremes. Hey, Ralon works too.”

“I-I-I-I-I—” Jim spluttered, at a complete loss for words,his tongue suddenly feeling about as graceful as a druffolo in a corset. 

Say something charming! Be witty, dammit!  

“S…Sorry, Ralon.”

Shit.

But to his surprise, Ralon just relaxed into an easier smile, reaching out to pat him comfortingly on the shoulder. Hishand lingered for a moment, and then he offered a squeeze of solidarity before reaching back tosnag the message from where it had landed on the grass. “You’re okay. Just stay put fora bit, yeah? I’ll pass this on to Hanin then take you to the infirmary.”

Jim gawped at him, not sure what to say. We don’teven know each other? 

“I… that’s okay, really. You don’t have… to…” Awkwardly, Jim trailedoff, realising that Ralon was already in the process of jogging across thefield. As it turned out, Captain Hanin received the message far more agreeably from Ralon; Jim evenmade out the word thank youand had to fight to suppress his indignation. Ralon motioned back towardswhere Jim was currently collapsed by the fence, and Hanin’s brow snapped backinto his traditional frown as he squinted in the indicated direction. However, to Jim’s surprise, the elven man just nodded, and Ralon returned, a lightsheen of sweat adorning his skin. It suited him a lot better. Jim felt himself grin giddily, still a bit light-headed, which earned him an amused smile in return fromRalon. 

He’d always wanted to go to Antiva.

“All right, you’re pretty out of it, huh? Ccome on, let’s get you up.” Ralon stooped,sliding an arm around Jim’s back, uncaring of the sweat and the overall air ofmisery that radiated off the scout. Working together, they managed to get Jimto his feet, and although he was unsteady, he could still manage walking with Ralon’ssupport. Just.

“...’m sorry,” Jim mumbled, embarrassed. Of course he’d be the one to faint on the job. He’dbe the laughing stock for weeks. “Thanks for… the rescue.”

A rich, warm laugh rolled up from the man’s chest. “Ah, you’re allright. No need to apologise.” Ralon’s eyes flicked across and he winked. “Way I see it, you rescued me from sparring. I should be the one thanking you.”

He actually winked! OhMaker. It took every shred of Jim’s willpower not to faint again.

“Well uh… you’re, um… welcome?”

At that, Ralon just chuckled, and it somehow made even Jim,light-headed and nauseous though he was, crack a smile. They paused for amoment as Ralon apologised, adjusted his grip, then asked him again if heneeded to sit down or rest for a moment. Jim hurriedly reassured him he wasokay to keep walking, and they continued on towards the infirmary, Ralonchatting absently away in an effort to keep Jim calm and distracted from the journey.

Listening to the man speak, his accent occasionally slippinginto something more Antivan than Ferelden, Jim allowed himself a private,pleased smile.

Maybe he should faint more often...

[minnieyoonie]

Today, We Fight | 02

Characters: Yoongi x Jimin (Yoonmin) / feat. BTS

Ratings: Mature

Warnings: Character’s Death, Blood, Gore, Violence, Explicit language

Summary: Everything came crashing down when an unknown virus break through within Seoul and the boys find themselves stuck in between the chaos as they struggle for survival for an unknown future waiting for them.

Chapter index

“Where did you say your car was, again?” Jimin asked quietly, somehow they’ve manage to get to the parking lot of Yoongi’s apartment without any difficulties and so far, they hadn’t had any encounter with any infected yet and Jimin just hopes that it wasn’t anytime soon. Even though the entire walk was awfully quiet for some reason, still they find it comforting somehow and the only sound that could be heard was their footsteps on the concrete floors.

“um..” Yoongi thought for a moment, trying to remember where exactly he had parked the car. Was it on the 4th level? Probably not. Jimin stop walking and stares at the older boy with eyebrows raised in suspicion, he knew exactly what was going through in that little head of his bestfriend. Yoongi might be a genius when it comes to song writing and producing beats but hell, he’s definitely had a mind of a grandpa when it comes to remember things that wasn’t related to music. Sometimes it amazed him, how can someone with a lack of remembrance could even remember his own name. Jimin shakes his head and sighs, “Gosh Yoongi, don’t tell me that you forget where it is again.. You’re lucky that your balls is fucking attached and if it wasn’t-”

“I bet you’re gonna fucking lost it and forget that it even existed.” Yoongi cut him off flatly, finishing the words he’s about to say for him with a rolled of his eyes. Jimin’s jaw slacked, dumbfounded. “What the fuck?”

“What?” Yoongi shrug nonchalantly.

“At least let me finish talk-”

“Why? I’ve heard you say it countless of hundreds time, Jimin. I know what you’re gonna say and i’m not gonna let you say it again - ow! what was that for dumbass?!” Yoongi massages his arms - where Jimin had smack him with eyes shooting daggers at him, “the fuck Yoongi? I was just..”

Snarling.. Teeth clicking.. shuffling footsteps..

Jimin trails off, his whole body suddenly tensed as he stood frozen, glued to the ground at the sound of an infected becoming louder and closer around them. He turn around slightly, just in time to spot a few infected shuffling down the slope from the 6th floor of the parking lot.

Yoongi notice the sudden lack of noise from his friend and pauses his movement, glancing at Jimin. The fact that his friend had turn pale and eyes fixate behind his shoulder. Yoongi averted his eyes towards the direction of the distracted boy and his eyes widened in horror. The gears in his head quickly started moving and he realized then - the infected haven’t spotted them yet, they could probably manage to getaway unnoticed. He quickly grabbed Jimin by the arm and yanked him forward. The sudden gesture broke the younger’s trance like state and Yoongi quickly explained himself, “I remember where i parked the car. C’on let’s go.”

They quicken their paces and darted in between cars, hoping it’ll cover them well enough. They reached the slope that goes down towards the 4th level but what awaits them was even worst than what they’ve came to prepare. The entire level was fill with infected roaming around endlessly. “Shit.” Yoongi mumbles, putting his hand up to halt Jimin from walking any further and exposing them. “What? Why’d you stop?” Jimin whispered questioningly, he hadn’t seen the infected yet since he was walking right behind the older boy, too focused on glancing behind his shoulder than what’s in front of him. Yoongi gulps and took a step back, wincing when his shoes squeaks. Not willing to risk anymore time, his eyes darted around the area, finding any means to get them both out of there before anything could’ve happen.

They couldn’t survive even for a minute longer if those hordes of infected were to chase their asses, not when they’re unarmed - well they did have a baseball bat and a kitchen knife but that’s definitely not gonna be any less useful against these hordes of undead. It’s either fight or flight situation and Yoongi knew the best for them for now is to try and avoid unnecessary trouble.

“Yoongi.. Hey Yoongi..” The tugging on his sleeve snaps him back from his reverie. “Yoongi, we need to go.. the infected is closing in on us, come on-”

“No. we can’t go that way.. there’s a horde of them, we-” Yoongi try to stop him from walking again but he was too late when the younger boy finally halted when he’d notice the hordes and his shoes squeaking due to the friction. All attention, they’ve been avoiding for was now on them. JImin curses when the hordes starts snarling and clicking its teeth, chasing towards its meal. Jimin tenses, every nerves in his body told him to run - to escape but he stood rigid to the ground, too shaken up at the sight in front of him. The nearest infected reached out to grab him and-

“Fuck this shit.” Yoongi grabbed the baseball bat out of the younger’s hand and swinging the bat just in time before the infected could even lay a finger on Jimin and quickly yanked him away as they turn on their heels, running back to where they came from. Resulting to have to face against the few infected that they were avoiding earlier. Yoongi pass the bat back to the younger, “Just hit the fucking thing if you wanna live..” he reminded and something in Jimin’s head clicked - Of course that’s exactly what he’s suppose to do and the promises that he’d made to Taehyung and Jungkook earlier before coming here. There’s no time to hesitate or be afraid. They have to do this - Jimin have to do this.

“Promise us, that you would survive this and no matter what happen, we would meet again and hopefully with the rest.”

“I promise.. I’ll get Yoongi and we’ll meet again.”

“Hyung.. Please be safe and remember we’re in this together.”

Jimin furrowed his brows and reaches in his pants pocket, glancing at the time on his phone. It’s already midnight and they have one hour left to meet at their promised destination. He glance at Yoongi and nods in determination as he tighten his grip on the bat and watches as the older boy next to him took out a kitchen knife out that was tucked in his boots. The first infected came up to them fast and lunges straight at Yoongi. “Hyung! duck!” Doing as he was told, Yoongi ducked his head and the younger boy swung the bat, smacking the infected skull hard enough that there’s a crack sound against the bat. Jimin grimaces at the slimy blood coating the metal bat on his hand.

“Jimin! Behind you!”

He swirled around and before he could react, Yoongi lands a kick on the incoming infected, slamming the pointed knife straight into the infected’s head, the blood splashes on his pale skin. “Incoming!” Jimin yelled - swinging his bat against another infected. “They’re everywhere now!” Jimin’s entire body felt weak and tired from the constant strength he’d put just to crack a skull but he kept going again each time when more and more infected coming their way. 

Yoongi was panting, all energy drained, his clothes were covered by splotches of dirt and blood. “We need to find a way to escape.” Just as he’d said that - something caught his attention and his eyes narrowed suddenly at the bright lit green light above the door with a ‘exit’ sign on it - just across from where they are. “Jimin, this way.. quick!” the younger boy obliged and swing his bat one last time before breaking into a run, following right behind Yoongi towards the exit.

They pushes through the door and make their way down the staircase with haste. “c’on, down the 3rd level, that’s where i parked it.” the older boy urges when the door behind them slams open with hordes of infected trailing behind them. Halfway through reaching the 3rd level of the parking lot, Yoongi searches for his car keys in his pocket and before he presses the remote to unlock his car, he frowned. “Get ready, Jimin. the moment i click this, it’ll trigger the remaining infected that would be around the area and no matter what happen, get your ass in the car.”

“I’m not gonna leave you behind hyung.”

“I know. that’s why..” I’m gonna make sure you won’t do anything stupid and survive this. Yoongi trails off and silently finishes it to himself. He knew very well that the younger boy would do anything to make sure he would survive this and be together - the actual reason why Jimin had went his way to his apartment to get him in the first place whereby he could just leave him to die unknowingly but he didn’t - he’d came and go through this for Yoongi. The boy have a huge heart and for someone as considerate as Jimin to experience this shit in his life was totally uncalled for. This angel doesn’t deserve this cruel world, yet alone have to fight against it. Yoongi press the remote to unlock his car and the beep echoes through the entire deserted lot.

They didn’t wait for any infected to suddenly appear as they burst through the door. Yoongi dashes for his car, not realizing that the younger boy was no longer behind him. By the time he’d notice it, he was already opening his driver’s door. “Jimin! get your fucking ass here right now! - NO don’t do this!” Jimin was leaning against the ‘exit’ door, finding ways to block it and when he can’t find any, he opt to hold it off by pressing his body weight against it when the infected started banging on the opposite side. “C’on Jimin, we need to go!”

“No.” Jimin shakes his head, “we won’t make it if i let the door go. there’s too many of them.” Just when he say that, another hordes of infected came up from the 2nd level from the left side. The sound of their teeth clicking and snarling were too loud for the deserted parking lot. Adding more to his discomfort, Jimin still refused to bulge from the exit door. Yoongi’s brain was turning around, searching for the many ways they could survive this horror and convince his friend not to be stupid but what he heard next from his bestfriend, shattered his heart. “Leave.. You need to leave now and meet the others at-”

“NO.” Yoongi shake his head dejectedly, his eyes blurring with incoming tears. He knew this gonna happen. he fucking knew it that Jimin would sacrifice himself to protect them - he predicted it. Yet he fails to prevent it from happening. “I.. I’m not gonna leave you!” he shakes his head again in denial, “No, i’m-”

“Yoongi hyung! please..- just leave” Jimin’s voice cracked slightly, “Leave now, or you won’t make it.” he whispered the last few words, more to himself than Yoongi. Even though he’d convince himself many times that they would eventually survive this horror, deep down he knew they won’t make it if he’d left the door open for the infected. As much as he wanted to survive and hold on to his promises - he couldn’t. Someone have to do this and that someone was Jimin. The sound of the engine roared to life and soon he heard the tires screech against the concrete floor, the sound soon became further and further away. Jimin let out a long breath that he didn’t realize he was holding. Part of him was glad that Yoongi had left him but the other part of him was hoping that somehow he could have gave the older boy a better farewell than this and -

Jimin felt his body fall to the ground with a weight hovering on him. He blinked when the smell of rotten flesh and blood dripping onto his half covered face. The infected is now on top of him, snapping its jaw at his face and that would mean - Jimin frowned while he struggle to prevent the infected from sinking its teeth on him with the bat, darting his eyes towards the exit door that was now still closed and surprisingly, he would expect the hordes of infected would have burst through the door the moment he’d let go but none came through. This is strange - that’s when he heard it. the sound of a few car’s alarm was blaring loudly within the parking lot on the top level. That’s probably the reason why those infected wasn’t chasing him anymore and the only one left was the one hovering on him.

someone or something must’ve triggered the alarm. As if on cue, the sound of screeching tires stop just beside him and a door opening could be heard, before he knew it - Jimin closes his eyes on reflex as blood splashes on his half covered face and dribble down his neck and the weight on his body was lifted. “Park fucking Jimin, don’t you fucking dare do that ever again, you fucking shit.” The voice scolding him was muffled and it doesn’t take long for him to recognize who the owner of the voice belongs to. He could clearly hear the deep soothing voice of his bestfriend.

Jimin open his eyes and pull down his mask, smiling at the dark brown eyes that appeared almost black against the moonlight, staring down at him as he reached out a hand for Jimin to take. Yoongi pull the younger boy up to his feet and give him a tight hug. “Just.. promise me not to do that again. Please..” Even though the older boy appeared calm and composed all the time, he can’t help but notice the shakiness of his voice against his ear. Jimin nodded silently as they pull away. “C’on , let’s go before they returned.” Yoongi tug the younger and urges him to get in the car which Jimin obliged without a word and climbed in the passenger seat together with Yoongi on the driver’s. Yoongi quickly slammed his feet against the accelerator and drive off, out of the parking lot.

[theshatteredrose]

The Treasure Seeker: Saga 1 - Chapter 3 (Etrian Odyssey 5 Fanfiction)

AN: Despite the seemingly endless string of headaches and minor annoyances this week, I managed to get this chapter done. I’m wondering if I should post pictures of my characters so that my readers would get a clearer idea of who looks like what. And because the pictures are pretty :D You tell me; it doesn’t bother me either way. Anyway, hope you enjoy reading and do let me know what you think of it so far. Any encouragement will be greatly appreciated~

Wattpad | AO3 | FFNet

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Chapter 3:

After a restful night’s sleep, Drayce awoke early in the morning and made his way down stairs. Unsurprisingly, Ashton was already up and had partially made breakfast. Though Ashton was indeed a scholar, he was also quite the caretaker. He honestly had to be as his father’s trusted understudy. Treasure hunters and archaeologists were rather notorious for getting caught up in their work.

Opting for a couple of moon apples to munch on, sat at one end of the dining table and looked over the mission registration form Ramus had issued to him yesterday. The premise of the first mission seemed easy enough; draw a map and grab a soil and sapling sample. Oh, and come back in one piece. An important one.

Though it sounded easy, Drayce knew better than to think it would be a walk in the park. The mission, after all, was pivotal in ensuring that only those who can handle what the labyrinth might offer continue on to become explorers. The council wanted to ensure that rookie adventures knew what they were getting themselves in. And, hopefully, lower the potential deathrate.

Those who fail were better off looking for another career.

Although, Drayce was fairly certain that many would-be explorers wouldn’t give up that easily. He remembered Grampa telling him tales of ‘rouge’ explorers, as he called them. Loners who wouldn’t abide by the rules of anyone. Sometimes not even their own rules.

The guards were in place to guarantee that only registered explorers entered the labyrinth. But they couldn’t be everywhere at once and with the labyrinth so large, it was impossible to know all possible entrances or escape routes. And there was nothing stopping the dumbasses from literally scaling the thing to get inside.

In any case, Drayce was determined to do the right thing; complete the first mission and be registered as an explorer.

He could potentially do whatever he wanted after that.

And it was going to be so much fun.

The sound of a chair scrapping against the floor pulled Drayce from his thoughts and he lifted his head up in time to see Blayke take a seat on the other side of the table directly opposite him.

“So what’s on the agenda today?” he asked as he took a bite out of a simple roll of bread with jam on top.

“Hm. Not completely sure, to be honest,” Drayce replied as he dropped the papers he was reading onto the table in front of him. “I was thinking of visiting the guildmaster and registering, but wouldn’t it be better to find a few members first? At least enough to form a party of five?”

“Sounds reasonable,” Blayke muttered around his breakfast as he cast an idle gaze upon the paper work. “The hard part will be finding the right kind of explorer to join our guild. We can’t just have anyone. You have a royal mission, after all.”

Drayce tapped his chin in thought for a moment. “Very true.”

Ashton dropped himself down onto a chair at the end of the table closest to where Drayce and Blayke were sat. “You might want to keep that hidden initially.”

Drayce arched an eyebrow at the green-haired man. “Are you worried about opportunistic explorers thinking they’ll be on easy street?” he questioned.

“Exactly,” Ashton replied before he launched into a quick explanation. “With you being hired by Prince Ramus himself, others might use you to get to him. Or try to use you to get to the Lost Treasures first.”

That made sense. Finding treasure was easier if you had someone else doing all the hard works instead. Surely, though, other explorers would have their full attention on keeping themselves alive, right? He didn’t want to think badly of other people.

Still, it was best to be safe than sorry.

“A lot of these explorers probably aren’t aware of the legends of the Lost Treasures, but you have a point nonetheless,” Drayce conceded.

Blayke finished off his breakfast before he folded his arms across his chest and leaned back into his chair. “That will make finding the right kind of guildmate harder,” he muttered. “Especially since we’re new to the city as well.”

Well, a challenge was only a challenge if you saw it as one, right? That was what Grandpa used to say a lot.

“Don’t forget your connections,” Ashton suddenly piped up with a knowing smile on his lips. “I know a fellow scholar that might be useful to you. He’s an expert in reading ancient texts. I can introduce you to him, if you like. I’m sure he would be greatly beneficial for when you start looking for the Lost Treasures.”

“Sounds perfect,” Drayce said, perking up a little inside at the thought of meeting and perhaps befriending someone who was as interested in myths and legends as he was.

“He also has a brother who might be able to join your guild,” Ashton added, his smile not wavering for a second. “A warlock, I believe. Quite adapt at Mana Detect.”

“Sounds even better!”

Ashton laughed heartedly for a moment. “I’ll arrange a meeting for you guys later,” he said. “But first, you should visit the market place. A few vendors there are quite knowledgeable in the materials found in the first and second floors. And while you’re there, you can buy some food to stock up the kitchen. Can’t entice potential guildmembers to join your guild with an empty kitchen.”

And one couldn’t go exploring or adventuring on an empty stomach, either.

“Fair enough,” Drayce said as he placed his hands atop of the table and pushed himself to his feet.

Across from him, Blayke did the same. “No coffee, though.”

“Why no coffee?” Drayce asked as he arched a questioning eyebrow.

Blayke levelled him with a very stern and somehow shrewd look. “Because when you start your real research, you tend to forget to sleep and drink gallons of coffee to help with your ‘productiveness’.”

Drayce was, naturally, rather indignant. “What? Dude, I so do not do that.”

Blayke’s expression grew agitated as he stepped away from the table and proceeded to head back upstairs to get ready. “That’s an outright lie. I can’t believe you said with a straight face.”

Drayce followed him, he, too, intent on getting ready. “Ok, rude.”

But as per usual, Blayke ignored him and the two of them got themselves ready for a day out grocery shopping.

… … … … …

Locating and travelling to Iorys’ market district wasn’t at all a difficult process. It was thankfully rather close to the guildhouse, allowing for quick and easy shopping whenever they needed it.

Despite it being soon after breakfast, the district was bustling with open vendors and busy shoppers. Of both locals and explorers, it seemed. A few stores appeared to be that of well established businesses, including blacksmithing facilities, while others were more akin to those of travelling vendors who were free to come and go as they pleased.

The store that caught Drayce’s eye was that of a seemingly newly erected building. An open store front with a blacksmith furnace located at the back. And the apparent owner of the store was a young brounii with quite an eccentric outfit of fine firs, feathers, and jewellery. It was actually the large green emerald he had pinned to his chest that caught Drayce’s eye. Obviously the man knew his jewels.

“Welcome!” the brounii cheerfully greeted as Drayce approached, with Blayke trailing behind him and eyeing their surrounding cautiously. “Ah, you’re a pair of new faces. Come to explore the labyrinth?”

“Planning on it,” Drayce answered honestly. “We just arrived yesterday, though. Still plotting our first trek.” He cocked his hip out to the side and planted his hand on it. “Any advice for us rookies?”

“Only to keep a close eye on your surroundings,” the shopkeeper answered swiftly as a friendly smile spread across his lips. “You never know what hidden treasure you might find!”

“Another one?” Blayke was heard muttering behind Drayce, but he was promptly ignored.

“Ah, a treasure man, huh?” Drayce asked as he felt his own grin grow.

“Well, of course. What Brounii isn’t?” The brounii then let out a peculiar but rather adorable laugh, one that seemed to come easy from him. “Anyway, the name’s Syrik.”

The brounii now known as Syrik threw out his hand for Drayce to shake, to which Drayce promptly did. He was in turn about to introduce himself and Blayke, but was interrupted by Syrik continuing to speak.

“To be honest with you, I only arrived to Iorys a few weeks ago myself,” Syrik explained as he released his surprisingly tight grip on Drayce’s hand. “When I heard that they were re-opening the labyrinth to explorers, I nearly fell over myself in my haste to get here. Being a traveling merchant is fine and all, but it makes perfect sense to set up a store here. The labyrinth just has to be filled with mysterious treasures and rare materials, after all.”

Drayce nodded his head in complete understanding. “Ah, a man after my own heart. I come from a long line of treasure hunters and archaeologists. So I know exactly what you mean.”

Syrik eyes widened before they all but sparkled with excitement. “Then that means…you’ll be able to find rare and high quality materials!” he said as he laughed good-naturedly.

Drayce couldn’t help but laugh as well before an idea struck him. “Tell you what; I’m not greedy. Should I find anything worthwhile, I’ll sell it to you.” He then offered his hand out to Syrik in hopes of sealing the deal. “Well?”

“You’ve got yourself a deal!” Syrik eagerly responded as he shook Drayce’s hand rather enthusiastically. “Looking forward to working with you.”

“You, too,” Drayce replied with a grin before he straightened himself up and tapped his finger against his temple. “I haven’t introduced myself yet, have I? My name is Drayce and this is my partner in crime, Blayke.”

Blayke barely had enough time to utter out a greeting in return before Syrik spoke up. “Nice to meet ya both!”

Syrik was certainly an energetic and enthusiastic shopkeeper, wasn’t he? Drayce was more than certain that they were going to get along just fine.

He was about to ask Syrik what kind of ‘treasures’ he was to expect on the first floor when Blayke grasped him by the shoulder and gave him a little push.

“Come on,” he said with a slight scowl on his face. “The kitchen won’t stock itself.”

“Right right,” Drayce answered passively, mildly wondering why Blayke looked more agitated than usual. “Catch you later, Syrik.”

“Come visit again soon~!”

… … … … …

With their arms filled with shopping bags of their much needed food supplies, Drayce and Blayke made their way back to the Crescentia. They seemed to have gotten everything on the shopping list Ashton gave them and hopefully by the time they return, a meeting with that fellow scholar Ashton had mentioned had been arranged. Or at least in the works.

“I quite like the market place,” Drayce commented cheerfully as they turned a corner and took to a slight incline that led directly to their guildhouse.

“That honestly doesn’t surprise me,” Blayke commented. “That place is filled with stores offering novelty trinkets and shit.” He then unexpectedly nudged Drayce with his shoulder. “And, dude, stop telling everyone you’re a treasure hunter.”

“What’s wrong with it?” Drayce asked as he turned to look at the fencer. “No one knows why I’m here or what treasure I’m looking for. Besides, it’ll be nice to be able to geek out with someone else who likes treasures, too.”

Blayke looked both agitated and defiant for a moment before he sighed and shook his head as a genuine expression of worry appeared on his face. “Look, I’m just worried, ok?” he admitted. “What Ashton said this morning is true. Whether they know why you’re here or not, you might be targeted by other guilds looking to get rich quick.”

Ah, so that was the reason for the scowl. He was taking Ashton’s warning to heart.

“Fine, fine,” Drayce said in a surrendering manner, not wanting to argue with Blayke’s obvious concern for him. “I’ll take your concern and worry into consideration and be more careful, ok?”

Blayke seemed satisfied by that for the time being and they both fell into a comfortable silence.

But as they drew closer to the Crescentia, Drayce noticed a young Therian on the other side of the street. They appear to be that of a male, with hair that appeared to be that of both light purple and light blue, and was wearing pastel clothing that was similar to that of rovers. His ears were that of canine variety and were the same pastel yet vibrant colours as his hair. The white wolf with a stunning blue design upon its forehead also gave the indication that he was indeed classed as a rover.

Aside from his wolf companion and a small bag on his back, he appeared to be alone.

Drayce didn’t realise that he had stopped walking and was all but staring at the kid until Blayke kicked him lightly in the shins. “What are you staring at?” he asked.

“That kid,” Drayce said, not taking his eyes off of the pastel rover. “He doesn’t look right.”

“What do you mean?”

Drayce carefully studied the kid’s movements, his brow furrowing slightly. “He’s shuffling his feet and his arms aren’t swinging by his sides. His head is also down as if he can only concentrate on the path in front of him. His wolf companion is right at his heel, his tail down and slightly between his legs.”

“…And?”

“I think he’s sick,” Drayce said simply as stepped off of the curb and made his way to the other side of the street where the younger rover was.

“Wait a second,” Blayke muttered as he moved to follow him.

Balancing his shopping bags into one arm, Drayce approached the rover rather cautiously. “Ah, hey there?” he called out to him, surprised when the kid immediately stopped walking but failed to turn around and look at him.

But his wolf companion did. Blue eyes turned to look at him before quickly glancing back at the silent Therian. This continued a couple more times before a soft whimper was heard.

Drayce felt concerned and he lifted his hand hesitantly. “You-?”

Before Drayce could ask if he was alright and if he needed any help, the kid suddenly fell to his knees before slumping forward haphazardly on the ground.

“Shit!” Instinctively, Drayce dropped his shopping bag and tried to reach out to him. But he had to pull himself back when the wolf immediately lunged forward and stood over the young rover’s unmoving form.

An understandable reaction, but Drayce couldn’t see if the kid was breathing with a protective wolf growling at him.

“Easy now,” Drayce said as he crouched down to be at the same eye level before he reached out a hand toward the wolf. He made no attempt to pat him or touch him in anyway. He just lifted his hand, hoping that the wolf would find him non-threatening and perhaps by sniffing his hand, allow him to check on the kid. “I’m not a bad guy, promise.”

What felt like a solid five minutes of tension, but was probably a minute max, the wolf slowly stretched out his neck and sniffed at his hand. Drayce made sure to stay perfect still while the wolf took in his scent.

And when the wolf nudged at his hand with his nose, Drayce felt relieved.

“See?” Drayce said as he gently patted the side of the wolf’s muzzle. “I won’t hurt either of you.”

The wolf seemed to understand him as he uttered a low whimper and removed his protective stance on his master.

Quickly, but carefully, Drayce rolled the rover onto his side and carefully slipped an arm under his shoulders to pull him into a sitting position. The kid was thankfully breathing, but it was laboured, coming out in short puffs and near-silent whimpers. His eyes were clamped shut and his face was creased into a look of pain. But most noticeable was how red his face was and how sweaty he appeared to be.

“What’s wrong with him?” Blayke asked as he cautiously crept closer, eyeing off the wolf as he did so.

“A fever,” Drayce said before he slipped an arm under the rover’s knees and all too easily picked him up. “Let’s take him back to the guildhouse. Sorry, but could you get the groceries?”

“Yeah, sure,” Blayke said as he shifted his bags to one arm.

But as he reached out to grab the bags that Drayce had dropped, the white wolf unexpectedly beat him to it. The wolf snared a couple of the bags with his mouth and picked them up easily. It was either something he was trained to do, or it was the wolf’s way of wanting to help somehow.

Drayce liked to think it was the latter.

“Let’s go, Doggo,” Drayce said.

They had been thankfully close to the Crescentia before the incident. They were also lucky that the front door had been left slightly ajar in preparation of them returning with their arms full of food and other groceries.

Keeping a firm grip on the young Therian in his arms, Drayce pushed open one of the doors with his shoulder and hastily stepped inside. “Hey, Ashton!”

“Welcome back,” Ashton responded before he stepped out of the dining room with a broom on his shoulder. “I’ve just finished the kitchen and-”

He stopped mid-sentence when his gaze fell upon the rover resting fitfully in Drayce’s arms. A look of confusion as well as concern appeared on his face. “What in the world?” he asked as he ventured closer.

“He fainted on the sidewalk in front of us,” Drayce explained quickly. “I couldn’t leave him.”

Ashton looked at the kid before shifting his gaze up at Drayce. His eyebrow was arched, yet he didn’t seem all that surprised. “Let’s see,” he said instead as he returned his attention back to the unknown rover. “He’s unconscious. He’s also burning up. Place him in the seating room while I’ll get a bed ready.”

“Sure,” Drayce said as he turned on his heel and quickly made his way to the large seating room.

The white sheets that protected the furniture from dust had thankfully been removed, so Drayce carefully placed the still unconscious rover onto a couch and laid his head upon a pillow. The pillow was a light blue, and alarmingly, the flush to the kid’s cheeks stood out harshly.

“He doesn’t look good,” Blayke said as he, along with the white wolf, entered the room. He was carrying a bowl of water and a cloth, thankfully.

And as Blayke placed down the bowl of water onto a nearby coffee table, the wolf companion immediately sat by the couch in front of his master, his nose gently nudging at his hand. He then uttered a small whimper, one akin to that of concern and confusion as he gently licked at the kid’s hand.

The wolf was a loyal companion and could heal the physical wounds of others through licking them. But unfortunately, the kid was ill with a fever. Either from infection or a virus. He needed medicine. And rather quickly, too.

“I think he needs a botanist,” Blayke said after a few moments of silence.

“Yeah, you’re right,” Drayce said as he lifted his gaze from the kid and turned in the direction of the front door. “I better go find one.”

Blayke was naturally going to protest, to ask him where he was thinking of finding a botanist when Ashton entered the room.

“I might know someone,” he unexpectedly said with a small but knowing grin. “He’s called a Botanical Genius, but a little picky when it comes to guilds or explorers he likes. He gets invitations to join a guild daily, but turned them all down.”

All very interesting, but that didn’t matter at the moment.

“Right now I’m not looking for a guildmate,” Drayce said. “This kid needs help. Surely he would agree to help him, right?”

Ashton continued to smile, as if he had expected such a response. “Here,” he said as he handed Drayce a slip of paper with an address on it. “This is where you can find him. But, whatever you do, do not mention his height. Or lack thereof.” 

Quickly grabbing the address, Drayce arched a questioning eyebrow but decided not to ask. “I’ll be back soon, ok? Watch the kid for me.”