#it was only after it had completely crawled down the crack in the wood

[dreadlord-mr-son]

A few days ago I found the tiniest snake on my apartment floor.

I was like? Is that a piece of string? And then it moved. Is that a worm? And I leaned in and no! Precious tiny snakeling!

I'm glad I didn't run it over with my chair or step on it. It was so small I was too afraid to pick it up normally. I instead chased it onto my open palm and dropped it into a plastic bowl to take some pictures before releasing it.

My friend's best guess on its species is: https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Sharp-tailed_snake

Which seems accurate?

I've had frogs, lizards, rodents, birds, and one time a possum. But this is my first time getting a snake in my apartment. I'm glad it was a cute and harmless one?

SO. TINY.

[faebled-stories]

Wagering Emotions

Kinkvember Day 21: Free Use

GFriend/VIVIZ Eunha (Jung Eunbi) x Male reader

AN: Hi guys! Are you proud of me? This girlie is finally leaving the house for something besides school! 😅 I started this fic right after yesterdays since I knew I had limited time today. Even so It's a bit of a long one, so I hope you're comfy and enjoy! 💖

“Oh, God—harder! Yes, right there!” The sultry cry was followed by a series of sharp, breathless moans that reverberated off the thin apartment walls. “Ugh, you’re so deep in me—don’t stop!” The woman’s voice dripped with exaggerated pleasure, her words climbing louder with each gasp. The rhythmic creaks of a bed frame added to the cacophony, creating a soundscape that was impossible to ignore.

Eunha clenched her pillow over her ears, but it was no use. The noises seemed to seep through the fabric, crawling under her skin like a relentless itch. Each gasp and moan hit her with jarring sharpness, as if mocking her failed attempts at peace. The bedframe’s incessant squeaks provided a rhythm to the chaos, an unrelenting reminder of what was happening mere feet away. She sat rigid on her bed, her teeth gritted so tightly her jaw ached. Her heart pounded in her chest, not from embarrassment but from pure, boiling frustration.

The moans built higher and higher, peaking with a sharp, guttural scream. “Ohhh—yes!” The sound stretched out, lingering in the air as the bedframe gave one final, forceful creak before silence fell.

The stillness that followed should have been a reprieve, but it wasn’t. It only magnified the absurdity of the situation, the weight of her irritation pressing down on her chest. She let the pillow fall from her hands, her gaze fixed on the cracked ceiling as her breath came in uneven bursts. The faint scent of lavender from her diffuser drifted through the room, its calming intention now nothing but a cruel joke.

This was her sanctuary—her home. Or at least, it was supposed to be. Instead, it felt like she was the intruder, an unwelcome guest in her own space.

It wasn’t just the frequency of these escapades, though they had escalated to near-nightly rituals. It was the complete disregard—the audacity to treat their shared apartment like a personal playground, to push her patience to the breaking point without so much as an acknowledgment.

With a sharp inhale, Eunha swung her legs over the side of the bed, the cool wood flooring grounding her as her frustration surged. She shoved herself into her oversized hoodie, the fabric heavy against her skin, and stormed toward the hallway. Each step was deliberate, her bare feet making soft, muted thuds on the worn hardwood. The flickering bathroom light at the far end of the hall cast erratic shadows on the walls, making the narrow space feel both claustrophobic and foreboding. The air was heavy, thick with a lingering warmth that seemed to seep through the apartment from your room.

As she reached the hallway, the muffled murmur of voices caught her ear. A giggle—soft and self-satisfied—floated through the stillness, followed by the unmistakable sound of your door creaking open. Eunha froze, just for a moment, letting her anger sharpen as her gaze fixed on the corner where the hallway turned.

When you appeared, the sight of you leaning casually against the doorframe was almost enough to send her over the edge. The lazy smirk curling at your lips, the easy, unbothered confidence in your posture—it was infuriating. But it wasn’t just you. Draped against your arm, looking equally disheveled, was Umji— one of her closest friends.

Eunha’s breath caught in her throat as her gaze locked onto her. No. No way.

Umji’s hair was a tangled mess, loose strands clinging to her flushed cheeks. Her makeup was smudged, faint streaks of mascara trailing under her eyes, which darted away as soon as they met Eunha’s. A collection of red marks decorated her neck in uneven patterns, stark against her pale skin. Her lips, swollen and trembling slightly, glistened faintly as though they’d just come up for air. The hem of her mini-dress hung unevenly, the fabric wrinkled and askew as though hastily pulled back into place. Most noticeable, though, were her legs—wobbly, hesitant steps that made the sound of her heels on the hardwood uneven. She clutched your arm for support, her fingers curling into your sleeve like a lifeline.

“Hey!” Eunha’s voice sliced through the stillness, sharp and unyielding. The sound echoed down the hallway, and both you and Umji froze.

You turned slowly, clearly unhurried, the smirk on your face deepening as your gaze met Eunha’s. “Something on your mind, Eunha?” you asked, your voice a drawl of mockery. The lazy tone only fanned the flames of her irritation.

But Eunha barely registered you. Her focus was locked on Umji, who flinched under the weight of her glare. Her posture shifted awkwardly, her hands fluttering uselessly at the hem of her dress, as though she could somehow straighten out what had already been done. Her cheeks were flushed a deeper red now, her lips parting as if she wanted to speak, but no words came. Her gaze darted back to the floor.

Eunha’s fists tightened at her sides as she took a step closer, her pulse pounding in her ears. The hallway felt oppressively small now, the dim light casting jagged shadows across the walls and your smug face. The faint scent of Umji’s floral perfume lingered in the air, mingling with the unmistakable musk of sweat, creating a cloying atmosphere that made Eunha’s stomach churn.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” Eunha finally said, her voice low and trembling with fury. Her words were directed at Umji, whose trembling hands fidgeted with the hem of her dress.

“Eunha, I—” Umji began, her voice cracking as she looked up, her tearful gaze locking with Eunha’s.

“You what?” Eunha snapped, taking another step closer. “You knew. You knew how much I’ve complained about him—how much he’s driven me insane. Hell, I spent hours venting to you, and you always agreed with me. Told me I was right to hate him. And now you’re just… this?”

“It’s not like that,” Umji said, her voice barely above a whisper. Her shoulders curled inward as though she were trying to make herself smaller. “I didn’t plan—”

“Didn’t plan it?” Eunha interrupted, her voice rising. “That’s all you’ve got? You didn’t plan to hook up with him? Do you realize how screwed up this is?” Her voice wavered, her anger laced with hurt that she couldn’t quite hide.

“I didn’t mean for it to happen,” Umji pleaded, her lips trembling as fresh tears filled her eyes. “It was—it was stupid, okay? I made a mistake.”

Eunha let out a sharp, bitter laugh. “A mistake? That’s what this is to you? A mistake?” Her voice cracked as she gestured at the red marks on Umji’s neck, the uneven dress straps, the swollen lips that spoke of the hours Eunha had unwillingly endured through the walls. “You’ve seen how much he’s made my life hell, and now you’re just another name to add to his list.”

“I know I messed up,” Umji whispered, her tears spilling over now, streaking her smudged mascara further. “I didn’t mean to hurt you, I’m sorry.”

Eunha shook her head, her chest heaving as she fought the wave of emotion threatening to overwhelm her. She turned her glare to you, standing there with that smug, satisfied smirk plastered across your face like this was all some kind of twisted joke. “And you,” she spat, her voice dripping with contempt. “You’re disgusting.”

You shrugged, your smile deepening as you raised your hands in mock innocence. “Hey, don’t blame me for what she wanted.”

The casualness of your response nearly made Eunha snap. Her nails dug into her palms, but she forced herself to take a deep breath, swallowing the venom that threatened to spill over.

“Unbelievable,” Eunha muttered, turning her attention back to Umji. Her voice dropped, quieter now but no less sharp, each word laced with the sting of betrayal. “I can’t even look at you right now.”

Umji opened her mouth, her lips trembling as though she wanted to explain, to apologize, but Eunha didn’t wait to hear it. She spun on her heel, her steps echoing sharply down the hallway as she stormed toward her room. The flickering light overhead illuminated the unshed tears brimming in her eyes, though the heat of her anger kept them from falling. The ache in her chest twisted deeper with every step, but she didn’t dare let it show.

At the threshold of her room, she paused, her knuckles whitening as she gripped the doorframe. She turned, her glare icy and unwavering as it locked onto you. Her voice was curt, sharp enough to cut through the suffocating tension. Enough was enough.

“Look, we need to talk. Now.”

You sighed, the sound heavy with reluctant amusement. “I’ll text you later, okay?” you said smoothly, glancing at Umji as though she wasn’t Eunha’s closest friend, but just another girl in a long string of conquests. Your words carried a deliberate nonchalance, almost as if you’d chosen them specifically to twist the knife deeper.

Umji hesitated, her nervous giggle betraying her unease as she glanced between the two of you. Her hands fluttered to smooth her rumpled dress, but the fabric clung stubbornly to her curves, refusing to cooperate. Her face was still flushed, her tears still wet, and she seemed to shrink under Eunha’s glare. With a small, almost inaudible “sorry,” she wobbled toward the door on unsteady legs, her heels clicking softly against the floor. The sound seemed to echo in the tense silence as the door clicked shut behind her.

The apartment fell into an oppressive quiet, broken only by the faint hum of the refrigerator. Your demeanor shifted slightly, the amused smirk on your lips fading into something more guarded. You leaned casually against the wall, crossing your arms over your chest as you regarded Eunha with a faintly raised eyebrow. “What’s this about?”

Eunha didn’t ease into it. Her voice, trembling with hurt and fury, spilled out before she could stop herself. “You know exactly what this is about.  Maybe I could’ve lived with the random girls. Maybe I could’ve dealt with it. But Umji? My best friend? You knew who she was to me, and you still went ahead and—” She choked on the word, her hands trembling as she gestured toward the now-empty hallway. “You went ahead and made her just another body. Another notch on your bedpost. Do you even realize what you’ve done?”

Your expression didn’t change, but your gaze flickered, just for a moment, something unreadable passing across your face. “It’s not like I forced her into anything,” you replied, your tone calm, detached. “She wanted it. That’s on her, not me.”

Eunha stared at you, stunned into silence for a heartbeat before her anger reignited, hotter and sharper than before. “Are you serious right now? She wanted it? She’s my best friend! She’s not just some random girl you can screw and forget about. She’s—” Her voice cracked, and she shook her head, tears brimming in her eyes. “She’s supposed to matter.”

“And what do you want me to do about it?” you asked, your voice maddeningly calm. “It happened. It’s done. Are you mad at me for having fun, or at her for making a choice?”

“Both!” Eunha shouted, her voice echoing through the apartment. “But you—you knew better. You knew exactly what this would do to me, and you did it anyway. Like you didn’t care. Like I don’t matter at all.”

Her chest heaved, her glare blazing with all the hurt she hadn’t yet put into words. Her hands shook as she tried to hold herself together, her nails digging into her palms.

“I’m sick of this,” Eunha snapped after a moment, her tone trembling with barely-contained anger. “Every night, it’s some random girl, and I have to hear everything. I live here too, you know.”

You shrugged, your tone light and dismissive. “Can’t help it if they get loud.”

Her jaw dropped, disbelief flashing across her face before anger surged in to replace it. “Oh, please,” she hissed, her cheeks flushing crimson. “Those moans? They’re all fake, and you know it. You’re not that good.”

The familiar smile crept back onto your face, a gleam of amusement dancing in your eyes. You leaned forward slightly, the air between you growing heavy. “Jealous, are we?”

Eunha stiffened, narrowing her eyes as the heat in her face climbed. “Jealous? Of those bimbos you bring home? Hardly.”

Your smirk widened as you took a half-step closer, closing the already narrowing space between you. “Sounds like jealousy to me. Otherwise, why would you care so much about what happens in my room?”

Eunha’s eyes blazed, “Because it’s my apartment too!” Her voice rose, conviction lacing every word. “I have the right to set some ground rules here. This is supposed to be a home, not a dating service. We need to set some ground rules.”

The tension between you hung thick in the air, almost tangible. The faint hum of the refrigerator from the kitchen seemed deafening in the charged silence that followed. Your gazes locked, a silent battle of wills playing out in the dimly lit hallway. This wasn’t just about noise anymore; it was about respect, boundaries, and the collision of two people whose lives were incompatible in ways neither was willing to admit.

“Ground rules, huh?” you said finally, your voice low, almost teasing. Your arms remained crossed, but the mischievous sparkle in your eyes returned. “Okay, I’ll bite. What do you suggest, then?”

Eunha hesitated, her frustration bubbling to the surface in an exasperated huff. “You can’t bring anyone home anymore.”

You blinked, clearly taken aback for a moment, before letting out a bark of laughter that echoed off the walls. “What? You’re serious?”

“Dead serious,” Eunha replied, her tone firm, her arms crossed tightly in defiance.

You shook your head, the corners of your mouth twitching upward. “That’s not going to happen. I’m human; I have needs.”

“Then take them somewhere else, get a hotel room I don't care,” Eunha shot back, her voice steady but laced with challenge.

You tilted your head slightly, studying her with a curious intensity. The tension between you seemed to thrum louder, like a taut string about to snap. Slowly, a wicked grin spread across your face, your eyes lighting up with an idea.

“How about we make things interesting?” you said, your tone dripping with intrigue.

Eunha’s frown deepened, suspicion coloring her features. “How so?”

“A bet.”

“A bet?” she repeated, her tone steeped in skepticism. Her arms remained folded, her glare unwavering. 

Your grin widened, a wicked gleam dancing in your eyes. “Yeah. Since you think they’re all faking it, how about this—we both go down on each other, and the first one to make the other cum wins.”

Eunha blinked, momentarily taken aback. The air in the hallway seemed to thicken, her breath hitching in her throat as the weight of your audacious proposition settled between you. “You’ve got to be joking,” she said, her voice steady but laced with disbelief.

You shrugged nonchalantly, the faint hum of the refrigerator in the background punctuating the charged silence. “You said I wasn’t that good. Prove it. If you win, I’ll stop bringing girls over entirely. But if I win…”

Eunha raised an eyebrow, her lips pressing into a thin line. “What’s in it for you?” Her voice carried a sharp edge, but there was a flicker of curiosity beneath it, almost imperceptible.

You leaned in slightly, the dim light from the overhead fixture casting a shadow across your face. Your voice dropped to a low, teasing tone, each word dripping with confidence. “You. Anytime, anyplace, for a week.”

Eunha’s breath caught, her pulse quickening as the sheer boldness of your words hit her. Heat crept up her neck, but it wasn’t just anger—it was the challenge, the audacity, the smugness in your tone that fanned the flames of her pride. There was no way you could win, not against her. She was hellbent on the fact that every moan that came out of your room was nothing but an act—girls faking it to stroke your ego because they didn’t know any better. Nothing about you screamed impressive..

“No way we are doing a week; that’s too long,” Eunha countered firmly, crossing her arms over her chest in defiance. Her heart raced, but she kept her tone steady.

You were unfazed, leaning back slightly with an exaggerated shrug, as though victory was already in your grasp. “Okay, what about over the course of a week? Three sessions of use with you, same as before, any time, any place.”

Eunha’s jaw tightened as she considered your alternative, the weight of your words settling like a dare she couldn’t refuse. The light buzz of adrenaline coursing through her veins made her palms feel clammy, but she straightened her spine, meeting your gaze with fire in her eyes. “Fine,” she said, her voice unwavering. “You’re on.”

Your grin widened, the corners of your mouth curling with triumph, as if you’d already won. “Let’s make some ground rules, then.”

The quiet apartment is suddenly alive with the undercurrent of challenge. The faint creak of the floorboards under your steps seemed louder in the silence. The terms were simple—no hands allowed, and the first one to cum would lose. It wasn’t just a game of skill, but of endurance, control, and unspoken stakes that neither of you fully acknowledged.

As the final terms were set, you led Eunha to your room—a space she’d passed by countless times, now feeling alien and charged with a dangerous intimacy. The air hit her first, thick with the unmistakable scent of musk and lingering arousal. The faint trace of Umji’s floral perfume mingled with something far more primal, twisting in Eunha’s stomach like a knot. Her throat tightened. She couldn’t ignore it—the room still carried her best friend’s presence, an unwelcome ghost that clung to the atmosphere and prickled at Eunha’s skin.

She steeled herself, pushing aside the pang of discomfort. She wasn’t here to wallow or falter. She was here to win. Today, this was her game.

The door clicked shut behind, and the sound echoed like a gunshot in the still room. You wasted no time, your movements deliberate as you peeled off your shirt with casual confidence, the dim light from the bedside lamp casting sharp shadows across your skin. Anticipation danced in your dark eyes, glinting with amusement as they traced her figure.

Eunha swallowed hard, a swell of nerves rising in her chest as she met your gaze. But she refused to falter. She reached for the hem of her shirt, pulling it over her head with a decisive motion, baring herself piece by piece until she stood completely exposed before you—naked and unflinching. The cool air of the room kissed her skin, raising goosebumps that she refused to acknowledge. Her chin tilted up defiantly, her resolve unshaken.

With a playful glint in your eyes, you gestured toward the bed, your lips curling into a smirk. “Ladies first?” you quipped, your voice dripping with amusement.

Eunha shot you a fierce glare, her jaw tightening as she fought the urge to fire back with something sharper. Instead, she climbed onto the bed, her movements purposeful and precise. But the moment her knees hit the mattress, a wave of discomfort washed over her. The dampness beneath her palms was unmistakable, the sheets faintly musky from Umji’s earlier release. A surge of anger flared in her chest, tightening her throat. Her best friend’s ghost clung to this space—this bed—turning what should have been just another challenge into something deeply personal.

You followed her onto the bed, your movements deliberate and unhurried, as if you had all the time in the world. You reached out, hands brushing against her hips as you guided her to straddle you. Her legs trembled slightly as she adjusted, the heat of your hands sending a jolt through her body that she stubbornly ignored. You leaned back, your smirk deepening as you settled into the mattress, entirely at ease. The flicker of amusement in your eyes burned against Eunha’s pride, daring her to falter, daring her to lose.

Her breath quickened, her pulse hammering in her ears as she hovered over you. The room seemed to shrink, the space between your bodies charged with a tension that felt almost electric. The scent of musk, sweat, and lingering arousal swirled around them, thick and inescapable, amplifying the intimacy of the moment.

For the first time, as her gaze flickered downward, she noticed something she’d never truly paid attention to before—your length, larger than she had cared to admit. The sheer size of you made her stomach flip, a wave of heat rushing through her so suddenly that it took her breath away. Her thighs pressed together instinctively, as if to stave off the reaction, but the faint ache building within her betrayed her efforts.

Her eyes lingered for a moment too long, tracing the prominent veins and the way you moved with an air of ease that only added to the magnetic pull you exuded. The sight was overwhelming, a reminder of your control, and it sent her mind spinning with thoughts she wasn’t ready to face.

A faint flush crept up her neck, her skin burning with a mixture of embarrassment and something she couldn’t quite name. She swallowed hard, forcing her expression to remain neutral as she tore her gaze away, her heart pounding in her chest. Determination flickered in her eyes as she tried to bury the reaction deep inside her, willing herself to focus on anything else.

This wasn’t about distractions or nerves; this was about her pride. Her chance to make you crumble as so many others before you had. She wasn’t just playing your game; she was going to win it.

As she leaned closer, the warmth of your skin radiated against hers, the proximity amplifying every sensation. The mattress shifted beneath you both, the springs groaning softly as the challenge truly began.

She began her assault slowly, her tongue tracing along your length, savoring the way you twitched beneath her touch. A smirk curled her lips as she realized you were already responding—a thrill of satisfaction coursed through her. He’s already losing, she thought, emboldened by the spark of confidence igniting within her.

Yet, the tables turned as your hands gripped her hips, pulling her down toward your waiting mouth with a deliberate, unyielding strength. The unexpected forwardness startled her, and she couldn’t help but gasp. Your tongue found her folds, teasingly exploring her with excruciating slowness. The touch sent shivers radiating through her core, making her body tense involuntarily.

Stay focused, she reminded herself, though the heat building inside her made it harder to concentrate. She picked up her pace, taking you deeper into her mouth, swirling her tongue with precision. Each low groan that escaped your lips reverberated through her, sending jolts of satisfaction surging through her. She poured every ounce of her determination into conditioning your reactions, her confidence surging with every twitch, every shallow breath you took.

She sensed her victory was close—your breath quickened, and she could feel you throbbing against her tongue. A few more moments, and she’d have you. She could almost taste the win.

But then, without warning, you shifted, your tongue pressing against a hidden, sensitive spot deep within her. The sudden, sharp jolt of pleasure ripped through her, a sensation so intense it stole her breath. A startled gasp escaped her lips before she could stifle it. And then you followed it up, your mouth latching onto her clit, sucking and teasing with just enough pressure to send her spiraling further into a haze of pleasure. Each flick of your tongue and gentle graze of your teeth seemed designed to dismantle her resolve, targeting every weakness she didn’t know she had.

Her body trembled, betraying her will as waves of ecstasy built within her, each one cresting higher than the last. She struggled to focus, to push forward and finish what she started, but it was no use. You were relentless, and her body was betraying her. Every stroke of your tongue felt impossibly perfect, a symphony of sensations that left her teetering on the edge.

And then it hit her.

The orgasm crashed over her like a thunderclap, a shockwave of pleasure so sudden and intense it left her reeling. It wasn’t just unexpected—it was overwhelming. Her breath hitched, a strangled moan escaping her lips as her entire body bowed against her will. It was unlike anything she’d ever felt, a climax so raw and consuming it rivaled her best and obliterated any sense of control she thought she had. Her thighs clamped reflexively around your head, trembling with the force of the pleasure wracking her body. She couldn’t stop herself—the sensation was too much, too all-encompassing to resist.

As the waves of ecstasy reached their peak, you thrust slightly deeper into her mouth, her lips stretched around you as she choked softly on your length. The sensation of being taken so completely sent a fresh jolt of pleasure surging through her, intensifying her climax beyond what she thought was possible. Her body shuddered violently, her muscles tightening as her cries became muffled, the act heightening the overwhelming rush of release.

Every nerve in her body felt electrified, every inch of her skin hypersensitive to the slightest touch. Her heartbeat pounded furiously in her chest, each thrum echoing like a drumbeat in the heavy silence of the room. The way you filled her, the weight of your presence pressing her further into surrender, only amplified the depth of her response, dragging her into a state of pure, unrelenting bliss.

The waves of pleasure seemed endless, each pulse pulling her deeper into the abyss. Her mind blurred, the edges of thought dissolving into a haze of sensation that left her powerless, her breaths coming in shallow, desperate gasps. Time stretched and warped, the peak of ecstasy feeling like an eternity as it consumed her completely.

When the tremors finally subsided, she collapsed against the mattress, her body limp and her mind clouded with disbelief. Her chest heaved with each ragged breath, her limbs heavy as if weighed down by the aftershocks of her release. The room felt distant, blurred by the haze of ecstasy still humming through her body.

Her lips remained around you, the weight of you resting on her tongue unnoticed at first as her mind buzzed with the intensity of what she had just experienced. Slowly, instinctively, her tongue began to move, tracing along your length in lazy, absent circles. It was almost reflexive, her body responding without thought, as if it craved the connection even as her mind struggled to process the reality of it all.

For a moment, she was lost in the act, her senses dulled and her body still pulsing with residual pleasure. But as clarity returned, the realization struck her like a cold wave. Her cheeks flushed a deep crimson as her senses snapped back into focus, and she quickly pulled back, her lips parting as she released you.

Her heart pounded as she shifted away, her hands trembling as she tried to gather herself. How could this have happened? The thought lingered, sharp and insistent, as she struggled to reconcile the overwhelming pleasure with the reality that it had been your tongue—and her own instincts—that unraveled her so completely.

Eunha’s frustration boiled as you chuckled beneath her, your low, smug laughter sending waves of embarrassment coursing through her. Pulling back, you rose to a sitting position, your dark eyes gleaming with satisfaction. “Looks like I won,” you said, your voice dripping with self-assured confidence.

A mix of humiliation and indignation simmered in her chest. “No! You… you cheated!” she blurted, scrambling off you in a frantic attempt to reclaim some semblance of dignity. Her movements were hurried and awkward, betraying her flustered state as she tugged at the rumpled sheets to cover herself.

You arched an eyebrow, the corner of your mouth curling into a smirk that only deepened her frustration. “Cheated?” you repeated, your tone light, teasing. “Sounds like a sore loser to me.”

Eunha’s jaw tightened as she glared at you, her hands balling into fists at her sides. “You… did something! I don’t know what, but there’s no way! That wasn’t—it doesn’t count!” Her voice wavered as she scrambled for excuses, her mind racing to rewrite what had just happened. “I didn’t even cum—so you didn’t win,” she mumbled, her words tumbling out in a desperate attempt to shift the narrative, even as her own body betrayed her.

Your smirk widened, and you leaned forward, the playful glint in your eyes sparking a fresh wave of heat in her cheeks. “Didn’t cum, huh?” you asked, your voice low and taunting, the kind of tone that made her heart pound in equal parts irritation and something else she refused to name.

Before she could retort, you moved swiftly. Your fingers brushed against her slick folds, gathering the unmistakable evidence of her release. She gasped, her breath catching in her throat as her body jolted at the unexpected touch. You brought your fingers to your lips, savoring the taste with a deliberate, slow flick of your tongue.

Then, closing the distance between you, you captured her lips in a searing kiss, your hands firm against her waist. The taste of herself lingered on your lips, undeniable proof of what had just transpired. “Doesn’t it taste just like cum?” you teased, your words a whispered challenge against her lips.

Eunha froze, her mind spinning as the truth crashed down on her. The heat of your mouth, the unmistakable taste, the trembling in her thighs—there was no denying it. She had climaxed, and you had won.

But she wasn’t ready to admit it.

“That doesn’t mean anything!” she snapped, her voice sharp, though it wavered slightly at the edges. She pulled back, her hands trembling as she gestured wildly, trying to regain control of the situation. “You… you probably did something weird—something dirty! I wasn’t even ready! It’s not fair!” Her excuses came out in a rush, desperate and unconvincing even to her own ears.

Your chuckle deepened, rich and mocking, as you watched her unravel. “Face it, Eunha,” you said, your tone dripping with amusement. “I won, fair and square.”

Without any more options, she stumbled to her feet, her movements hurried and frantic as she reached for her discarded clothes. “Whatever,” she muttered, her voice thick with humiliation as she avoided your gaze. “This was a stupid bet anyway.”

But before she could make her escape, a sharp smack echoed through the room as your hand connected playfully with her rear. The stinging heat made her yelp, and she spun around, glaring at you with wide, furious eyes. Her face burned crimson, the mixture of anger and lingering embarrassment practically radiating off her.

“Deal’s a deal,” you said, your voice low and teasing, the grin on your face infuriatingly smug. “I’ll be collecting my prize soon.”

Eunha’s heart pounded, your words settling deep in her chest and sending a strange, unsettling mix of dread and anticipation coursing through her. She couldn’t bring herself to respond, her mouth opening and closing uselessly as she scrambled for a comeback that refused to come.

Without another word, she stormed out of the room, her footsteps echoing sharply down the hallway. The slam of her door reverberated through the apartment, a sharp punctuation to the moment. Alone in her room, Eunha pressed her back against the door, her breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps as her emotions swirled in chaotic waves—anger, embarrassment, and something she refused to name.

-----

The next day, the morning sun filtered through the sheer curtains of Eunha's room, casting delicate golden patterns that danced across the floorboards like restless shadows. The warmth of daylight touched her skin, but it did little to temper the knot of discomfort and anticipation twisting in her stomach. She lay face down on her bed, her laptop propped in front of her, fingers hovering over the keyboard. She typed half-heartedly, forcing herself to focus on the screen. Yet, the weight of your presence in the room made it impossible.

Your quiet breathing behind her felt louder than it should, filling the air with a tension she couldn’t escape. She bit her lip, her body prickling with awareness against her will. This was her sanctuary, her room. A place where she was supposed to feel safe and in control. Yet now, under your gaze, it felt different. Oppressive. Confusing. The line between intrusion and something else entirely blurred in ways she wasn’t ready to face.

“Ready for your first session?” Your voice, low and deliberate, broke through the quiet. The words cut through her thoughts, making her body tense instinctively. She froze, her breath catching, unsure whether it was defiance or dread keeping her silent.  

The bed dipped under your weight, and suddenly, you were there, behind her. She stiffened as your hands brushed over her hips, slipping beneath the hem of her shirt. The soft rustle of fabric was deafening in the quiet room. 

She wanted to protest, to tell you she wasn’t enjoying this, but the words stuck in her throat. Instead, her breath hitched as your fingers trailed lightly over the curve of her back. Your touch sent tingles racing across her skin, her body responding even as her mind recoiled. It wasn’t fair. She hated how her body betrayed her, how it melted under your hands like it had been waiting for this.

You started slowly, your lips brushing featherlight kisses along her shoulders. She clenched her fists, burying her face into the pillow as you worked your way lower. Each kiss left a trail of heat in its wake, your mouth moving with maddening patience down the length of her back. When your teeth grazed her skin, she let out a muffled gasp, her body jerking slightly before settling back into place.

Eunha squeezed her eyes shut, trying to block out the sensations overwhelming her. I can't believe this is happening, she thought desperately, her cheeks burning as your lips pressed against the small of her back. She wanted to hate it, hate you, but the way her body responded made it impossible to ignore. Each touch, each teasing bite, only deepened the confusion swirling inside her.

When your lips brushed against the curve of her plump cheeks, she trembled. Her skin tingled as you lingered, planting slow, deliberate kisses before giving a playful nip that sent a jolt through her. She buried her face deeper into the pillow, her breath ragged, her resolve crumbling.

“You’re already reacting so much,” you teased, your voice soft but smug. “I haven’t even touched you.”

Her heart raced at your words, embarrassment and arousal mingling in a way that made her stomach twist. She hated how much she wanted you to keep going, how her body leaned into your touch even as her mind screamed at her to pull away.

Your hands slid down her thighs, coaxing them apart as your fingers finally brushed over her folds. She gasped, the heat pooling in her core undeniable. Why does this feel so good? she thought, biting her lip as you teased her, never quite giving her what she wanted.

“Look at you,” you murmured, your tone laced with amusement. “Soaking through your sheets, just like your friend.”

Her body trembled as your fingers continued their slow, agonizing exploration. Her breath hitched when you finally slid her shorts down, exposing her fully. She felt vulnerable, raw, and yet… exhilarated.

You gripped her hips, lifting them slightly so her chest remained pressed to the bed. Her back arched naturally, and her cheeks flushed with heat as you adjusted her position, leaving her most sensitive areas exposed. The vulnerability made her heart race, her breath catching in her throat as she felt your presence so close behind her.

Your hands moved deliberately, spreading her cheeks wide. The cool air of the room kissed her exposed skin, making her shiver as the contrast of warmth and chill heightened her awareness. Her breath hitched when she felt the faintest, deliberate puff of air against her sex. The sensation sent a jolt through her, her body clenching instinctively as a soft whimper escaped her lips. Her folds quivered under the sensation, and even the tight ring behind them pulsed faintly in response, betraying her heightened sensitivity.

You chuckled softly, watching as her body reacted under your control. “So sensitive,” you murmured, your voice low and teasing. The way her body responded to even the gentlest stimulation was intoxicating. Leaning closer, you let your breath wash over her again, this time more deliberate, the warm puff grazing her slick skin.

The tremble of her folds deepened, her body betraying her completely as the light air teased her again. Her tight ring pulsated under your gaze, the reaction mesmerizing as you held her there, savoring every flicker of her submission. You’re so sexy,” you said softly, your tone filled with admiration. “Your body loves every second of this.”

She whimpered again, burying her face into the mattress as the sensations overwhelmed her. The deliberate teasing left her trembling, her body attuned to every movement, every breath. You watched her, enthralled by the way she surrendered to the moment, her reactions igniting a fire that neither of you could resist.

When your tongue flicked out, finally meeting her folds, she let out a muffled cry, the pillow swallowing her voice. The first touch stole what little resolve she had left, her hips jerking slightly before your firm grip steadied her in place. The heat of your mouth and the coolness lingering from the air created a dizzying contrast that left her gasping.

As your tongue delved deeper, teasing her sensitive nub, her entire body jolted with the intensity of the sensation. You alternated between soft, teasing licks and firm strokes, your hands gripping her hips tightly to keep her exactly where you wanted her. Her legs trembled, her mind a whirlwind of contradictions—she hated this, hated how you were making her feel, and yet, she couldn’t get enough.

“You like this, don’t you?” you murmured between strokes, your breath warm against her slick skin. “You don’t want to admit it, but your body’s already told me everything I need to know.”

Eunha whimpered, her chest pressing harder into the mattress as she fought against the overwhelming sensations. The way you spoke, the confidence in your voice, sent shivers racing down her spine. She hated that you were right. No matter how much her mind resisted, her body had already surrendered completely.

The safety of her room, once her refuge, now felt foreign. The air was heavy, charged with arousal that clung to every surface. She couldn’t escape it—the pull of her own body responding to you, the way her most vulnerable self was laid bare for your enjoyment. It was maddening. It was exhilarating. And she couldn’t stop it.

Then, to her surprise, you added a finger. The digit entered with no resistance, sliding into her warmth effortlessly as her slickness coated you. When you curled it just right, a sharp cry tore from her lips, muffled by the pillow beneath her. Her body tightened around you, a jolt of pleasure surging through her as her hips rocked back instinctively.

The combination of your tongue, tracing deliberate strokes over her sensitive nub, and the rhythmic motion of your finger inside her sent her spiraling. Her mind became a haze, her thoughts scattering as the sensations grew overwhelming. The tension in her core tightened with every flick, every stroke, building to a crescendo she couldn’t escape.

Her body arched off the bed as the climax hit her like a tidal wave, crashing over her with a force that made her gasp and scream into the pillow. The sound was raw, filled with a mix of ecstasy and disbelief. Warm liquid hit your tongue as her release washed over her, her body responding with an intensity she hadn’t anticipated. It was as if her body moved entirely on its own, separate from her mind, completely out of her control.

Her legs shook violently, her thighs trembling against your face as you held her steady. Every nerve in her body felt electrified, the waves of pleasure rolling through her like an unstoppable tide. Her hands clutched at the sheets beneath her, twisting them until the once perfectly made bed was a disheveled mess. Her breath came in ragged gasps, her chest heaving as the aftershocks left her weak and trembling.

As her body began to calm, her mind reeled from the intensity of it all. She had never experienced anything so raw, so all-consuming. It felt like her body wasn’t even hers anymore, like it had betrayed her completely. The humiliation of that realization mixed with the undeniable satisfaction thrumming through her veins, creating a cocktail of emotions that left her dizzy.

You pulled back slowly, savoring the sight of her undone beneath you. Your lips brushed one last kiss against her inner thigh, a soft, deliberate reminder of the control you held over her. “One down,” you murmured, your voice low and dripping with satisfaction.

Eunha collapsed fully against the bed, her body melting into the mattress as her limbs refused to move. Her breath came in shallow gasps, her skin flushed and slick with sweat. She buried her face into the pillow, her mind scrambling to process what had just happened. Shame flickered in the back of her thoughts, but it was drowned out by the lingering heat of her arousal.

She hated herself for how much she’d wanted it, for how completely she had surrendered to you. Yet, no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t push away the memory of your touch. The echo of your lips, your fingers, and the way her body had responded to you replayed in her mind like a vivid dream she couldn’t shake.

Even as she lay there, trembling and spent, a part of her was terrified by how much she craved more. She wasn’t fully yours yet—but the seed had been planted. And deep down, she knew that resisting you would only get harder from here.

-----

“Don’t worry, Mom, I’m fine,” Eunha said softly, her voice light but tinged with just enough warmth to reassure her mother. She leaned back against the couch, the phone pressed firmly to her ear. Her mother’s concern was a comforting constant, a tether to the normalcy Eunha was trying desperately to cling to.

“Are you sure? You’ve sounded tired lately,” her mother said, the familiar tone of worry pulling a faint smile from Eunha despite the storm brewing within her.

“I’m just busy, that’s all. Nothing to worry about,” she replied, her words practiced, as if they could steady her own wavering thoughts.

Her mother’s warm laugh filtered through the line, wrapping around her like a blanket. “You always say that. Don’t forget to take care of yourself, okay?”

“I won’t, I promise,” Eunha said, her chest tightening at the kindness in her mother’s voice. She focused on the conversation, trying to lose herself in its comfort, but the weight of your presence was impossible to ignore.

You were there, lounging beside her on the couch, your energy filling the room like a storm cloud. When her gaze flicked to you, her heart stuttered. The lazy grin on your lips, the mischievous sparkle in your eyes—it was enough to send a rush of heat coursing through her. She swallowed hard, her voice catching slightly as her mother spoke again.

“Have you been eating properly? You tend to forget when you get busy,” her mother said, concern softening her words.

“I’m eating just fine,” Eunha replied quickly, her tone betraying the distraction tugging at her. She gripped the phone tighter, forcing herself to focus on her mother’s voice even as your hand brushed lightly against her thigh.

Her body jolted at the touch, her breath hitching, though she tried to disguise it with a soft laugh. “Really, Mom, everything’s fine,” she said, the words feeling hollow as her pulse raced.

Her heart skipped a beat as your hand moved up her thigh, warm and commanding. Your fingers traced slow, deliberate circles over her skin, igniting a storm of sensations that made it nearly impossible for her to focus on her mother’s words. The phone trembled slightly in her hand as you leaned closer, your breath ghosting against her ear. “Ready for round two?” you murmured, your voice low and teasing.

Before she could process the words, you acted. With a swift, practiced motion, you pulled her into your lap, your hands firm yet gentle as they guided her into place. Her breath hitched as her body pressed against yours, her mind spinning from the sheer audacity of it all. The world outside—her mother’s voice on the line, the faint hum of the city beyond the window—faded into a muted blur as you moved with ease.

The hem of her shirt lifted in your hands, your fingers brushing her bare skin as you removed it with an insouciance that sent shivers through her. Her cheeks burned as the air touched her exposed skin, but her body betrayed her resolve.

A breathy moan escaped her lips when you shifted below her, the sound of your movements mixing with her moms voice. Her breath hitched as you reached down, slipping your hand beneath the waistband of your shorts. Her body tensed, her head turning slightly as if she wanted to see, but she stopped herself, the anticipation overwhelming. The moment was thick with tension as you freed your length, the weight and heat of it brushing against her skin briefly, sending a shiver racing up her spine.

Eunha swallowed hard, her pulse quickening as the reality of what was about to happen set in. For the first time, she realized just how much she had underestimated you. Her mind raced, but her body stayed still, her breath shallow and uneven as you positioned yourself 

Eunha swallowed hard, her pulse quickening as the reality of what was about to happen set in. For the first time, she realized just how much she had underestimated you. Her mind raced, but her body stayed still, her breath shallow and uneven as you positioned yourself beneath her. The weight of your hands on her hips steadied her, though the heat radiating between you only heightened her anticipation.

She hovered above you, her entrance brushing against the head of your length, and a sharp intake of breath escaped her lips. The first press of you against her made her thighs tremble slightly, the stretch unfamiliar yet electrifying. Slowly, you guided her downward, the head of your length pushing into her with deliberate, measured pressure.

Her walls tightened instinctively, gripping you as her body adjusted to your size. A gasp broke free from her lips, her head tilting back as the sensation overwhelmed her. Inch by inch, you filled her, the stretch igniting her nerves as her body accommodated the fullness. It wasn’t just the physicality—it was the sheer intensity of the moment, the raw connection that sent her senses spiraling.

Eunha bit down on her lower lip, her teeth sinking into the soft flesh in a desperate attempt to stifle the sounds rising in her throat. The effort was futile. Each movement sent a wave of pleasure radiating through her, the heat pooling in her core intensifying with every passing second. Her breath hitched as you bottomed out, the depth leaving her trembling in your lap.

You paused, letting her adjust, your hands firm on her hips as you held her steady. Her heart pounded against her ribcage, her body caught between the sharp stretch and the intoxicating pleasure. Her nails dug lightly into your shoulders, a wordless reaction to the overwhelming sensation of being completely taken.

Her mother’s voice on the other end of the phone became a distant murmur, a faint and meaningless thread lost in the overwhelming symphony of sensations coursing through her body.

Each deep, measured thrust sent shockwaves rippling through her, igniting every nerve as though you’d found a secret, untouched place within her. Your hips snapped upward with precision, each motion deliberate and unhurried, as though you were savoring every reaction. At the same time, your hands pulled her down, controlling her movements to ensure that every thrust hit its mark, driving her closer to the edge. The friction was intoxicating, the way her body yielded to yours making her thighs tremble as the pleasure intensified.

Her breath hitched as you shifted your focus, your lips trailing over the curve of her neck before descending to her chest. Your tongue traced a path over her skin before taking one of her breasts into your mouth, your tongue flicking expertly over her hardened nipple. Her free hand flew to her mouth, muffling the moan that threatened to escape as waves of pleasure surged through her. The warmth of your mouth and the deliberate pace of your movements ignited a fire that spread through her like molten lava, leaving no part of her untouched.

Her thighs quivered as she fought to stay silent, her nails digging into your shoulders as if clinging to the last thread of her composure. But it was a losing battle. Each thrust, each flick of your tongue, and every teasing bite pushed her further into a realm of bliss that shattered her carefully constructed facade. The conversation with her mother became meaningless—a forgotten backdrop to the intensity of what was happening between you.

You pressed deeper, your movements deliberate, each one unraveling her defenses layer by layer. Her breath hitched as you shifted slightly, your fingers tightening on her hips. Her mind swam in a haze of pleasure as you grazed your teeth lightly against the sensitive bud. The sharpness of the sensation sent a shockwave through her, her entire body jerking against you.

And then you slipped a finger into her tight ring, the unexpected intrusion sending her over the edge. Her back arched violently, her head tilting back as her body trembled uncontrollably. The combination of sensations—the fullness of your length inside her, the teasing graze of your teeth, and the pressure of your finger—coalesced into an overwhelming wave of pleasure that consumed her completely.

The crescendo hit her like a tidal wave, stealing the breath from her lungs as her orgasm crashed over her with ferocious intensity. Her thighs clamped tightly around your hips as the pleasure tore through her, her moans growing louder despite her efforts to hold them back. In a panic, she fumbled to mute the call with her mother, but the moment she did, a loud scream burst from her lips, unrestrained and raw.

Her body quivered against you, every muscle tensing and relaxing in rhythm with the pulsating pleasure coursing through her. Her nails raked down your back, leaving trails of fire in their wake as she rode the waves of her climax. Her forehead pressed against your shoulder, her gasps ragged and desperate as the aftershocks rippled through her.

And then she felt it.

The warmth bloomed deep inside her as you finished, your release spilling into her in long, deliberate pulses. The sensation sent a fresh jolt through her already trembling body, her walls clenching around you involuntarily as if to hold you in place. The heat filled her completely, leaving her both stunned and overwhelmed. Her mind reeled, trying to process the depth of the intimacy while her body betrayed her, savoring the connection.

As her breathing slowed, her thoughts darkened. Images of the countless one-night stands you had brought home flashed through her mind—the strangers whose laughter and moans had echoed through these walls, the women she had heard but never seen. Now, she was one of them. Claimed, used, another conquest to add to your list.

Her chest tightened at the thought, but her body still hummed with the remnants of pleasure, betraying the conflict swirling within her. She couldn’t deny how incredible it had felt, how consuming and raw the experience was. But the realization of what she had become—just one of the many—sent a pang of shame through her, mixed with an undeniable longing for more.

For a moment, the world dissolved into nothing but sensation. Her body was a trembling, overwhelmed mess in your grasp, and all she could feel was the heat of your skin, the pressure of your hands holding her, and the lingering pleasure that left her utterly spent. The room was thick with the scent of sweat and sex, a visceral reminder of the line she had crossed.

“Two down,” you murmured against her neck, your voice low and teasing, each word sending another shiver down her spine. The words hung in the air, heavy and electric, as you pulled back just enough to meet her gaze. The intensity in your eyes made her heart race all over again, her body igniting anew despite the exhaustion flooding her limbs.

Her hands shook as she scrambled to end the call, stammering a breathless goodbye to her mother before collapsing against you. Her cheek rested against your chest, her breath coming in shallow, uneven gasps as her mind spun with disbelief.

How had she allowed herself to get here? How had she unraveled so completely, lost so thoroughly in sensations she had once sworn she could resist? Yet, even as she wrestled with the whirlwind of emotions swirling inside her, a part of her couldn’t deny the truth. Deep down, beneath the lingering embarrassment and self-reproach, there was a flicker of anticipation.

She wanted more.

-----

After two consecutive days of passion and intensity, the abrupt break that followed was a mixed blessing for Eunha. On one hand, her body welcomed the respite—the soreness in her thighs and the dull ache in her hips lingered like an intimate reminder of the fervent connection you shared. On the other hand, the absence of scheduled sessions left her restless. Her mind became a storm, every stray thought spiraling back to you.

Each moment apart felt like an eternity. Her memories replayed like a fevered dream—the way your hands had explored her body with unerring precision, the intoxicating sound of your voice murmuring against her skin, the way you pulled her under your spell with every electrifying touch. She couldn’t escape the lingering echoes of your presence, the phantom feeling of your fingers tracing her curves. The ache of longing bloomed inside her chest, a dull, throbbing need that refused to be ignored.

She hated how much she craved you. Her body, once entirely her own, now seemed attuned to the thought of you, as though it anticipated your every move. Her breath would hitch at the memory of your thrusts, stirring a deep, primal hunger that sent shivers through her spine when she let her mind linger too long. How did it come to this? She couldn’t decide whether it was desire or dependency, but whatever it was, it consumed her.

As the days stretched on, the tension between you became almost unbearable. Eunha caught herself stealing glances at you in the shared spaces of your lives. You moved with infuriating ease, your calm confidence a stark contrast to the chaos roiling inside her. Every fleeting look you gave her, every shared smile or casual brush of your hand against hers, felt like a spark threatening to ignite the tightly coiled tension between you. Her pulse would quicken whenever your eyes met, her breath catching as the air thickened with an unspoken promise.

And yet, you kept your distance. Aloof but ever-present, your quiet self-assurance was a maddening reminder of her own unraveling. Each encounter left her nerves frayed, her thoughts tangled in a web of anticipation and longing.

In the quiet hours, Eunha’s thoughts betrayed her. She would sip her morning coffee and imagine your lips brushing hers, your hands gripping her waist. She would read under the warm glow of sunlight, only to find herself yearning for the warmth of your body pressed against hers. The ache of your absence seeped into her dreams, your touch haunting her even there. When she thought of the inevitable final session, her heart would race, her mind spinning with fantasies of how it might feel. The thought was intoxicating—and utterly crushing in its reminder of the emptiness that filled the spaces between your meetings.

Finally, on the last day of the week, Eunha sat at her desk, her laptop glowing faintly in the dimly lit room. The document on the screen was an empty void, the blinking cursor a silent accusation. She stared at it, fingers hovering over the keyboard, willing herself to type something—anything—but her mind was a chaotic swirl, and the still-blank page spoke volumes. No words came. No work was done.

Her heart thudded painfully in her chest, anticipation coiling tight in her stomach. She didn’t need to glance over her shoulder to know you were there. Your presence was magnetic, filling the air with a weight that pressed against her like a physical force. The faint rhythm of your footsteps approached, each step resonating like a heartbeat in the otherwise silent room.

The air grew charged, humming with unspoken words and unresolved tension. It was an invisible thread connecting the two of you, tightening with each passing moment. Eunha’s fingers twitched over the keyboard, a futile attempt to pretend she hadn’t already surrendered to the moment before it even began.

You came up behind her without a word, your hands sliding over her shoulders with deliberate ease. The heat of your touch sent a ripple through her, her body responding instantly. Her breath hitched as a shiver raced down her spine, her concentration on the empty screen obliterated in an instant.

Your fingers kneaded her tense muscles with just enough pressure to make her melt against the chair. Each movement was slow, confident, deliberate. She could feel the warmth of your body close to hers, the faint scent of your cologne mingling with the sterile hum of the office air. For a brief moment, she closed her eyes, torn between surrender and resistance, her thoughts spinning as she tried to reconcile the electric pull of your presence.

“It’s time for the last session,” you whispered, your breath warm against the shell of her ear. Your voice was low, rich, each word wrapping around her like a caress. The syllables lingered, thick with promise and urgency, igniting a spark deep within her.

Her body tensed under your touch, caught between the intoxicating pull of your words and the anticipation coursing through her veins. She turned her head slightly, her lips parting as if to speak, but the words died in her throat. The moment hung suspended, taut and electric, as though the air itself awaited her next move.

Before Eunha could find her voice, you effortlessly pulled her up from her chair. Her laptop screen dimmed, forgotten, as you turned her toward the desk in one fluid motion. Her breath hitched as you bent her over the cool surface, the sensation of the hard edge pressing against her chest grounding and thrilling all at once. She gasped softly when your hands slid down her sides, warm and deliberate, moving with practiced ease.

You worked methodically, your fingers grazing her skin as you peeled away her clothes. Each layer fell away like petals from a flower, leaving her bare and vulnerable under your touch. The chill of the air kissed her exposed skin, sending goosebumps rippling across her body, and the heat of your hands against her only deepened the contrast. She gripped the edge of the desk, her fingers curling tightly around it as anticipation built in her chest.

Her skin tingled with anticipation, every nerve alive and sensitive as you positioned yourself behind her. This dance, though familiar, felt new each time—each touch, each shared breath igniting a fire that burned brighter than the last. The air between you was thick, charged with the tension of the moment, and the faint scrape of fabric as you removed the last barrier between you only heightened the anticipation.

Your hands gripped her hips firmly, steadying her as you align yourself with her entrance. The heat of your length brushed against her folds, eliciting a sharp inhale as her body quivered beneath you. But instead of easing inside, you teased her—grazing her entrance with just the tip, almost like a kiss.

Her breath came in uneven gasps, her fingers curling tightly against the edge of the desk. Each deliberate nudge, each tantalizing brush of your head against her, sent jolts of pleasure through her, teasing her already heightened senses. Her body reacted instinctively, her hips rolling back in an effort to meet you, seeking the fullness you held just out of reach. But just as she pushed against you, you pulled away, your teasing smirk audible in the low chuckle that escaped your lips.

Her thighs trembled, her body caught in the maddening limbo between anticipation and relief. You continued the game, pressing just enough to stretch her slightly, letting her feel the promise of you, before retreating again. The sound of her labored breathing filled the room, punctuated by the soft creak of the desk beneath her. The tension built like a coiled spring, her body humming with need, every nerve screaming for release.

Finally, you gripped her hips tighter and pressed forward, the slow, deliberate stretch as you entered her drawing a sharp gasp from her lips. Her back arched instinctively as she adjusted to your size, her fingers digging into the desk for support. The moment was raw and electric, her body trembling as the fullness consumed her.

As you began to move, you shifted your grip, one hand trailing down to deliver a sharp, stinging slap to her bare cheek. The sound cracked through the air, followed by a jolt of heat that made her gasp. Her body tensed under your touch, a mix of surprise and exhilaration coursing through her. Another slap followed, the sting sending ripples of pleasure racing through her as she clenched around you.

“You like that,” you murmured, your voice low and teasing as you rubbed the reddened skin, soothing it before delivering another sharp smack. Each impact sent her higher, her body responding to every combination of pain and pleasure as you set a rhythm that left her breathless.

Your thrusts grew deeper, more deliberate, each movement precise and commanding as you drove her closer to the edge. The heat of your body pressed against her, the cool surface of the desk beneath her, and the lingering sting of your spanks combined to heighten her senses, leaving her utterly at your mercy. Her hips rocked back to meet your thrusts now, her movements instinctive and desperate, as though her body had been made to follow your lead.

Eunha clung to the desk, her breath coming in shallow gasps as her mind spiraled into the haze of passion. Rational thought dissolved into nothingness, replaced by the primal need to surrender completely. The sound of your bodies moving together filled the room, a symphony of heat and desire that left her trembling and undone.

Before Eunha could steady herself, your hand slid up her back, tracing her spine with deliberate slowness before gripping the base of her ponytail. The sharp tug tilted her head back, arching her spine and forcing her to press closer against you. The motion was commanding, almost primal, and paired with the rhythmic slap of your hips against hers, it sent a new wave of shivers coursing through her body.

The sting of your earlier spanks lingered, the heat radiating from her reddened skin intensifying the contrast between pleasure and pain. Your grip on her ponytail tightened, using it as leverage to drive yourself deeper. Each thrust was deliberate, precise, and powerful, eliciting soft cries from her that grew louder with every movement. You felt her clenching around you, her body gripping you tighter with each spank and every commanding tug of her hair.

“You’re squeezing me so hard,” you murmured, your voice dripping with teasing satisfaction. Another sharp slap landed on her cheek, and she cried out, the sound breaking into a breathless moan as her body trembled under you. “You like this, don’t you? Being bent over your desk like this, letting me take you however I want.”

Eunha could barely form a coherent thought, let alone respond. The mixture of pleasure and domination was overwhelming, her body instinctively rocking back to meet you. Her hips moved in time with yours, each thrust sending jolts of pleasure spiraling through her as her nails scraped against the desk, seeking any semblance of grounding in the storm you were creating.

Suddenly, your eyes flicked to her laptop, the screen darkened from inactivity. With a curious smirk, you reached over her, pressing on the trackpad to awaken it. The screen lit up, revealing a blank document, the cursor blinking idly as if mocking her attempt to focus.

You leaned forward slightly, your chest pressing lightly against her back, your lips brushing her ear as you murmured, “You were just waiting for me, weren’t you? Faking work just so I could come and interrupt.”

The words struck her like a lightning bolt, their truth sending her already racing heart into overdrive. She let out a shaky breath, her throat tightening as her mind reeled from the vulnerability you so effortlessly exposed. Yet, it only heightened the sensations coursing through her, the mix of humiliation and desire spiraling into something she could no longer resist.

Your pace quickened, each thrust driving deeper as the sound of skin against skin filled the room, mingling with her ragged gasps and breathless moans. The steady pull of her ponytail guided her body into perfect alignment, each movement drawing you closer to her deepest, most sensitive spots. Her walls clenched tighter around you, her body reacting instinctively to the rhythm you commanded.

“You’re so tight,” you groaned, your voice tinged with both exertion and satisfaction. The grip on her ponytail tightened again as your free hand traced down her back, gripping her waist to hold her steady. The push and pull of your motions became a dance of raw intensity, every movement calculated to pull her further into the abyss of pleasure.

Eunha’s breaths turned to sharp cries, her voice rising in pitch as her body betrayed her, hurtling toward release. Her thighs trembled uncontrollably, the tension within her building to an unbearable crescendo. Each thrust, each slap, each tug of her ponytail sent her spiraling closer to the edge, her body arching as if begging for the final push.

And then it came. A powerful thrust paired with the sting of another spank tipped her over, the orgasm crashing through her like a tidal wave. She let out a scream, her body quaking violently as every fiber of her being surrendered to the ecstasy you’d drawn out of her. Her walls pulsed around you, gripping you with a ferocity that only amplified your own pleasure.

Her forehead pressed against the desk as her moans softened into shaky breaths, her body trembling beneath you as aftershocks rippled through her. Your pace slowed but remained deliberate, drawing out every last ounce of her pleasure as you admired the way she clung to you, utterly spent.

“Look at you,” you murmured, releasing her ponytail and running your hand down her back, soothing the reddened marks left by your grip. “Completely undone.”

Eunha could barely form a reply, her breath still coming in uneven gasps as she slowly emerged from the haze of her climax. Her fingers flexed weakly against the desk, her legs quivering as she struggled to regain her footing.

But even in her exhaustion, a flicker of anticipation lingered in her chest. The intensity of what she’d just experienced wasn’t just overwhelming—it was addictive. And as much as she hated to admit it, she couldn’t wait to see what came next.

As the tremors of her orgasm subsided, you pulled out, her walls gripping you one last time before reluctantly releasing you. The slickness of her release coated your length, gleaming in the dim light as you admired the way her body trembled beneath you, her breath coming in ragged gasps.

With a swift yet deliberate motion, your hand came down on her ass with a sharp spank, the sound cracking through the room like a whip. She let out a startled gasp, her body jolting slightly as the sting spread across her reddened cheek. Your hand lingered, kneading the warm, tender flesh as you smirked, savoring the sight of her arching beneath your touch.

“I just love your ass,” you murmured, your voice low and teasing. Your fingers traced the curve of her cheek, your tone dripping with admiration as you added, “So perfect. I could play with it all day.”

You punctuated your words by gripping both cheeks firmly, your thumbs sinking into the soft flesh before giving them a playful jiggle. The motion sent another wave of heat through her already oversensitized body, drawing a soft whimper from her lips as her legs quivered beneath her.

“You’re amazing,” you continued, your hands continuing to explore her, alternating between gentle squeezes and sharp slaps. The way her skin bounced under your touch captivated you, and you couldn’t resist watching her reactions—the way she trembled, the way her breath hitched with each motion.

Her body arched slightly, the mix of tenderness and dominance in your touch making her head spin. Every squeeze, every jiggle, every deliberate spank reminded her of how utterly at your mercy she was—and how much she relished it.

Your hand lingered, kneading the tender flesh, your fingers digging in just enough to draw another shiver from her. The mix of dominance and care made her head spin, and she couldn’t help but bite her lip as you leaned down to murmur against her ear, “We’re not done yet.”

A flicker of protest flashed in her hazy mind, and she opened her mouth to speak, her voice weak and breathless. “I… I don’t think…” she began, her words trailing off as the weight of your presence pressed against her. But even as her mind tried to form a coherent objection, her body betrayed her, arching instinctively into your touch.

“Shhh,” you murmured softly, your tone soothing yet unyielding. “I know you can take it.”

You stepped away briefly, leaving her bent over the desk, her body still trembling as she tried to collect herself. The sound of a drawer opening and the faint rustle of movement sent a thrill of anticipation racing through her. She bit her lip, her nails digging into the desk as her body tensed with a mixture of apprehension and excitement. When you returned, the cool sensation of lube on your fingers as you coated your length made her breath hitch, a fresh wave of nervous energy coursing through her.

With practiced ease, you spread her cheeks, revealing her tight, puckered hole. She let out a shaky breath, her voice catching as she whispered, “Wait… I’m not sure about this.”

Her words were feeble, lacking conviction, and you simply chuckled, low and teasing. “Trust me,” you said, your tone filled with quiet confidence. 

Her breath hitched as she felt a cold drop of lube land directly on her hole, the sensation startling yet oddly thrilling. Her body tensed, and she squirmed slightly beneath your hands, but the warmth of your palms steadying her hips kept her grounded. You positioned yourself, the tip of your length pressing lightly against her ring. You didn’t push in yet, letting her feel the pressure, making her hyper-aware of what was about to happen.

You stayed there, your presence a quiet, commanding force as she processed the moment. Her heart raced, her breath shallow, as the reality of her vulnerable position washed over her. The heat of your length against her and the weight of your hands on her body sent conflicting waves of tension and anticipation coursing through her.

“Anywhere I want,” you reminded her, your voice low and teasing, sending a shiver down her spine.

You began to press forward, the tight ring of muscle yielding slowly as you eased in. The stretch was intense, her gasp sharp and unrestrained as she clutched the edge of the desk. “I—wait, it’s too much,” she stammered, her voice shaky, her body trembling under you as her nerves warred with the raw, growing pleasure.

“You can take it,” you murmured, your hand stroking her back in reassurance even as you pushed further. Her protests faltered, her breath coming in shallow gasps as the sensation overwhelmed her. She could feel every ridge, every vein along your length as you pushed deeper, her body adjusting inch by inch. The mix of discomfort and raw pleasure left her dizzy, her legs quivering as she struggled to hold herself steady.

Halfway in, you paused, your hands steadying her hips. Her breathing was ragged, her body adjusting to the fullness. You reached down with one hand, your fingers finding her clit, circling it gently. The sensation made her cry out, her body clenching around you as the pleasure collided with the stretch of your entry. Her walls pulsed with every deliberate flick of your fingers, sending ripples of sensation through her core and tightening her grip on your length.

“Breathe,” you murmured, your tone firm but reassuring as you let her adjust.

You then proceeded and when you finally bottomed out, you held the position, the sensation of her tightness surrounding you utterly consuming. She was warm and slick, her body trembling as she adjusted to the new fullness. Her breathing came in shaky gasps, her body betraying her as the mix of pain and pleasure exhilarated her in ways she hadn’t expected.

She felt incredible—nothing like she had ever experienced before—and it ignited something deep within her. Her hips began to shift, pressing back against you in tentative movements. The message was clear, and you smirked, taking it as your cue to start.

Your thrusts began slowly, deliberate and deep, each one drawing a soft cry from her lips as the rhythm built. Your hand remained between her legs, teasing her folds and circling her clit, amplifying the sensations that coursed through her. Every motion was calculated, every thrust designed to send her higher, to push her further into the haze of ecstasy that clouded her mind.

Her body responded instinctively, her hips rocking back to meet you as the rhythm quickened. The sound of skin against skin filled the room, mingling with her gasps and moans. You felt her clenching around you, her body tightening with every stroke, every flick of your fingers against her sensitive nub.

“Admit it,” you murmured, your voice low and teasing, the words brushing against her ear like a caress. “You love being used by me. I unlocked something for you, didn’t I, Eunha?”

Her breath hitched at your words, her body trembling beneath you as she struggled to reply. Her voice came out in broken gasps, her words tumbling free before she could stop them. “Yes… yes… it feels so good,” she cried, her voice trembling with raw need. “I’m so full with you…”

A wicked grin spreads across your face as you tighten  your grip on her hips, driving into her with renewed intensity. Her cries grew louder, her body writhing beneath you as you pushed her closer to the edge. The pressure of your fingers on her clit, the heat of your body against hers, the stretch of every deliberate thrust—it was overwhelming, consuming her completely.

The build-up was relentless, her cries becoming more desperate, her body trembling as she teetered on the brink. The room echoed with her sounds—moans, gasps, and finally, a scream that tore from her throat as her climax hit. It was raw, unrestrained, the kind of sound she had once dismissed as fake when it came from the women you brought home before her. But now, those same sounds were spilling from her lips, unbidden, as the waves of pleasure ripped through her.

Her ring clenched tightly around you, her body convulsing as the orgasm consumed her. Every nerve in her body felt electrified, her cries piercing the air as she lost herself completely to the sensation. You didn’t stop, your hands gripping her hips with a firm intensity as you thrust deeper, chasing your own release.

When you finally spilled into her, the heat of your release filling her tightest depths, it was like nothing she’d ever felt before. The warmth spread through her, a sensation so alien and overwhelming it triggered another wave of pleasure that slammed into her like a tidal wave. Her back arched sharply, her thighs quivering as the combined sensation of fullness and release sent her spiraling into an even more powerful climax.

Her entire body trembled violently, her ring pulsing around you in rhythm with the aftershocks of her ecstasy. She was lost in the overwhelming sensations, unable to distinguish where her pleasure ended and yours began. Her voice broke into gasps and sobs of pleasure, the intensity leaving her breathless and lightheaded.

You leaned over her, your breath warm against her ear as your hands steadied her trembling form. Your fingers pinched her clit once more, a teasing stroke that sent her collapsing against the desk as the aftershocks rippled through her again. Her mind was a haze, her body slick with sweat, and all she could feel was the lingering, overwhelming sensation of being utterly claimed.

As her breathing slowed, her mind began to catch up to what her body had just experienced. The heat of your release still lingered deep inside her, a visceral reminder of how completely she had surrendered to the moment. For a fleeting second, she felt a rush of pride—this was hers now, the pleasure, the intensity, the connection. And yet, a part of her couldn’t shake the realization that this sensation, so intimate and raw, had once been shared with others before her.

But none of that mattered at this moment. All she could do was gasp for air, her body trembling against yours as the room spun around her, the aftermath of your shared ecstasy leaving her utterly undone.

“Such a good girl,” you murmured, your tone filled with satisfaction as you felt her body quiver beneath you. “All done. I knew you had it in you.”

Her legs gave out as the aftershocks rippled through her, leaving her limp and utterly spent. You held her close for a moment, letting her catch her breath, before you began to pull back. Slowly, deliberately, you exited her, and the sensation left her gasping softly. The emptiness hit her like a sudden void, her body instinctively clenching as if to draw you back in, but you were already gone.

Her eyes fluttered shut as the cool air brushed over her now-gaping ring, the absence of your presence making her feel incomplete. A strange, hollow ache settled deep within her, as though a part of her was missing. She bit her lip, suppressing the odd sense of longing that threatened to bubble up, her mind torn between shame and the raw need still thrumming through her veins.

You stepped back, letting your gaze linger for a moment on the sight of her. She was utterly undone, her body slack and trembling, her skin glistening with sweat. The way she looked—spent and marked—sent a surge of satisfaction through you. Before leaving her entirely, you raised a hand and delivered one last sharp smack to her reddened cheeks, the sound cracking through the room.

Eunha flinched at the sudden sting, a soft whimper escaping her lips. Her body shivered in response, her cheeks burning with a fresh wave of heat as the mark of your control lingered on her skin. The smack felt like a punctuation to everything that had just happened, a reminder of the claim you had staked on her.

As you stepped away, she remained draped over the desk, her breath coming in shallow, ragged gasps. Her mind swirled with disbelief and exhilaration as the realization of what had just happened fully hit her. She had never felt anything like this—never thought it was even possible. Her body still tingled, every nerve hypersensitive, and yet the absence of you left her feeling unmoored, yearning for something more. She leaned against the desk, spent and vulnerable, the weight of the moment settling over her like a warm yet haunting blanket.

-----

By the end of the week, Eunha had stopped fighting the inevitable. She had surrendered to your connection, letting you take what you wanted, each encounter intensifying the bond that tethered you together. Every touch, every glance, every whispered word deepened the intimacy between you. And in the quiet aftermath, when your breathing had steadied and her body still buzzed with the memory of your touch, she found herself wanting more. Not just the physical connection, but the unspoken exclusivity that seemed to linger in the air between you.

She wanted to be the only one you touched, the only one you claimed, the only one you used.

But then the week ended, and reality came crashing down.

You walked through the door with another girl, your laughter ringing out like a cruel reminder of everything she wasn’t. The sight hit Eunha like a blow, sharp and unforgiving. Her heart sank as she froze in the doorway of her room, her fingers gripping the frame as if to steady herself. SinB. Of all people, it had to be SinB.

Her mind raced as she watched you chat effortlessly, your hand brushing SinB’s arm like it was the most natural thing in the world. The way you smiled at her, leaned in just slightly as you spoke, set Eunha’s blood boiling. This wasn’t just disrespect—this felt personal. Jealousy burned hot inside her, laced with a bitter sting of betrayal. After everything you’d shared, how could you act so indifferent? And with her friend, no less.

SinB giggled at something you said, the sound twisting in Eunha’s stomach like a knife. Her jaw clenched as she watched the two of you move down the hall, your casual smirk cutting through her like a dagger. Her stomach churned as you opened your bedroom door, ushering SinB inside like this was just another meaningless encounter.

The door clicked shut, and something inside her snapped.

Before she could think twice, Eunha’s feet carried her down the hall, her heart pounding in her chest as rage surged through her. Without hesitation, she shoved the door open, the force of it startling both you and SinB.

“Eunha!” you exclaimed, your voice tinged with surprise as you turned to face her.

“Get out,” she spat, her voice trembling with fury as her gaze locked onto SinB.

SinB blinked, confusion etched across her face as she looked between you and Eunha. “Uh… excuse me?”

“I said, get out,” Eunha repeated, her tone sharp and unyielding. Her eyes burned with a fire that left no room for argument.

“Eunha, what is going on?” SinB asked, her voice rising in disbelief. “Why are you acting like this?”

“You know exactly why,” Eunha snapped, her voice cutting through the tension. “Just go.”

SinB hesitated, her expression a mix of confusion and annoyance, before grabbing her purse and muttering something under her breath. She glanced at you as if for an explanation, but you said nothing, your calm gaze fixed on Eunha instead. SinB huffed, brushing past Eunha as she left the room. The sound of the front door closing was loud in the ensuing silence.

Eunha’s hands clenched into fists at her sides as she took a step closer, her anger spilling over. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

You tilted your head slightly, your expression infuriatingly casual. “Care to elaborate?”

“SinB?” she hissed, her voice low but trembling with emotion. “Are you just making the rounds of my friends now? Is that it? First Umji, and now this?”

Your smirk deepened, but there was a flicker of something else in your eyes—curiosity, perhaps. “I didn’t realize I needed your approval.”

“You don’t,” she shot back, her voice cracking under the weight of her emotions. “But I trusted you, and you… You’re doing this on purpose. You’re trying to—” She cut herself off, her chest heaving as she struggled to find the words. “Are you trying to humiliate me? To make me feel like nothing?”

You stepped closer, your voice calm, almost soothing. “You’re taking this awfully personally, Eunha.”

“Of course I am!” she snapped, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “You used me, and now you’re—what? Moving on to the next? Except it’s not just anyone, is it? You’re picking my friends. You know exactly what you’re doing.”

The tension in the room was thick, the air crackling with the weight of unspoken emotions. You studied her carefully, your gaze steady as you leaned back slightly. “And why does it bother you so much? Why does it matter who I bring here?”

Eunha’s breath hitched, her anger faltering for a moment as the question hung between you. She swallowed hard, her fists loosening at her sides. “Because it’s not just about them,” she admitted, her voice softer now but no less raw. “It’s about me. It’s about what I thought we had.”

The silence that followed was heavy, the distance between you feeling both too much and not enough. For the first time, Eunha’s vulnerability was laid bare, and the weight of her words hung in the air like a challenge.

Eunha’s hands trembled as she stood in the center of your room, her chest heaving with the effort to keep her emotions in check. The silence between you was deafening, her words hanging in the air as she tried to make sense of everything she was feeling. The betrayal, the anger, the jealousy—all of it swirled inside her like a storm, but underneath it all was a need she couldn’t deny. A need for you to understand what this had done to her.

You raised a brow, completely unfazed by her confession. “What’s your problem?”

Eunha’s chest tightened, her heart pounding as she struggled to find the right words. “After everything… after this whole week, you just go back to bringing some other girl home like it was nothing?”

Your expression darkened slightly, though your tone remained calm. “Our deal’s over, Eunha. I didn’t think it was a big deal anymore.”

“It is a big deal!” she shot back, her voice cracking with a mix of frustration and vulnerability. Her eyes burned as she stared at you, willing you to see how much this mattered to her. “You used me all week. You touched me like I was yours, like I was the only one. And now you just… move on like none of it mattered?”

You stepped closer, your movements deliberate and measured, the space between you shrinking as your voice dropped. “What did you expect? It was a bet, Eunha. You lost. That’s all there was to it.”

Her breath hitched at your words, the weight of them landing like a blow to her chest. She shook her head, tears prickling at the corners of her eyes, though she refused to let them fall. “No. You can’t tell me it didn’t mean something. You can’t just act like I’m the same as the rest.”

Your gaze softened for a fleeting moment, though your casual demeanor didn’t falter entirely. “And what if you’re not?” you asked, your tone quieter now, almost teasing. “What are you trying to say, Eunha?”

Her hands trembled at her sides as the words tumbled out before she could stop them. “I want to be the only one. The only one you… use.”

The air between you grew heavy with the weight of her admission. Her chest heaved as she looked up at you, her eyes burning with emotion. For the first time, her vulnerability was laid bare, her need for you undeniable.

You stepped closer, the distance between you almost nonexistent now. “That’s what you want?” you murmured, your voice low and deliberate. “You want to be mine?”

“Yes,” she whispered, her voice trembling but firm.

Your hand reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face as your lips curled into a smirk. “Prove it.”

She blinked, her breath hitching at the challenge in your voice. “How?” she asked softly.

Without answering, you stepped back, gesturing toward the floor in front of the couch. “Kneel,” you commanded, your tone calm but firm.

Eunha hesitated for only a moment before sinking to her knees, the plush carpet soft beneath her as her hands rested awkwardly at her sides. Her body trembled under the weight of your gaze, her heart racing as she obeyed. The silence between you was deafening, broken only by the faint rustle of fabric as you pulled your phone from your pocket.

She watched with a mix of curiosity and apprehension as your fingers moved across the screen. You sent a quick text before sliding the phone back into your pocket, your smirk deepening as you took a seat on the couch in front of her.

You leaned back, your posture casual, one arm draped over the back of the couch. “Don’t move,” you said simply, your voice carrying an edge of command that made her heart skip a beat.

Eunha nodded, her eyes flickering with uncertainty as she knelt there, her body tense under your unyielding stare. Time seemed to stretch endlessly, the weight of the moment pressing down on her as she fought to keep still. She wanted to ask what you had done, what would come next, but the intensity in your gaze kept her silent.

Minutes later, a knock echoed through the apartment, and her stomach twisted with nerves. Her eyes darted toward the door, but she didn’t dare move. She could hear your footsteps as you stood and made your way to the door, opening it with ease.

“Hey,” came Umji’s voice, her tone curious. “You texted me to come over? What’s going on?”

“Come in,” you said smoothly, stepping aside to let her enter. Eunha’s breath hitched as she heard the door close, her body frozen in place. Umji’s eyes landed on her almost immediately, confusion flickering across her face as she took in the scene.

“What is this?” Umji asked, her voice filled with disbelief as she glanced between you and Eunha.

You moved to stand behind Eunha, your hand resting lightly on her shoulder. “She wanted to prove something,” you said casually, your tone laced with amusement. “So I thought you might want to see.”

Eunha’s cheeks burned under Umji’s gaze, her body trembling with a mix of humiliation and anticipation. She felt your fingers trail down her arm, your touch both grounding and electrifying as you leaned down to murmur in her ear.

“Don’t make me wait,” you said softly, the words sending a shiver through her. “Start.”

Her hands moved to the hem of her shirt, her movements slow and hesitant as she began to undress. Piece by piece, her clothing fell away, leaving her bare and exposed under the sharp contrast of your commanding presence and Umji’s incredulous stare.

“What the hell is going on?” Umji demanded, her voice rising slightly, but she didn’t look away.

Eunha’s breath came in shallow gasps as you guided her closer to the couch, your hand tangling in her hair as you brought her face to your length. “Just watch,” you said simply, your voice calm yet commanding.

Eunha’s lips brushed against you, her movements tentative at first as she began to please you, her cheeks flushed with a mix of embarrassment and arousal. Her warm breath ghosted over your length as her tongue flicked out, testing and teasing before she grew bolder. Slowly, she wrapped her lips around you, her head lowering as she took you into her mouth. Her hands gripped your thighs for balance, her touch light but steady as she worked to find her rhythm.

Her efforts were cautious but deliberate, each stroke of her tongue a mix of careful exploration and mounting determination. The sound of her soft, wet movements filled the room, a symphony of submission that drew your attention back to her. Occasionally, you reached down, your hand tangling in her hair to guide her movements, pushing her head down further. Each time, she responded with a muffled gasp, her body tensing momentarily before she adjusted, taking you deeper.

“Good girl,” you murmured, your voice low and soothing, your praise making her cheeks burn brighter. The words sent a surge of motivation through her, and she worked harder, her lips gliding smoothly along your length, her tongue swirling expertly around you.

For Eunha, this was the biggest test. Every motion, every flick of her tongue was charged with the weight of proving herself. She knew this was more than just an act of submission—it was a declaration of her place, her claim on you. A small, unexpected part of her stirred with arousal at the thought of Umji watching. Showing her friend who was truly yours, who had earned this, awakened a pride she didn’t know she possessed. It was intoxicating, this mixture of vulnerability and power, and it drove her further.

You leaned back against the couch, letting her set the pace for a moment before gripping the back of her head firmly and pressing her down. Her eyes widened as she took you deeper, her throat constricting slightly as she adjusted to your command. She let out a muffled sound, a mix of effort and surrender, before pulling back just enough to catch her breath. You allowed her a brief reprieve before guiding her again, her lips tightening around you as she resumed her work with even greater intensity.

Across the room, Umji stood frozen, her arms crossed tightly as she watched the scene unfold. Her gaze remained locked on Eunha, her expression a mixture of shock and disbelief. There was curiosity too, evident in the way her lips parted slightly as though to speak, only to remain silent. The sight of Eunha—once brimming with disdain for you—now fully submitting to your control was nothing short of a revelation.

“You’re really putting on a show, aren’t you?” you remarked, your voice dripping with amusement as your hand rested lightly on the back of Eunha’s head. “Keep going. Show her why you’re the only one.”

Eunha’s eyes flickered upward, meeting yours for the briefest moment before closing again. She redoubled her efforts, her movements growing faster, more fluid as her arousal fueled her determination. The wet sounds of her work filled the room, punctuated by her soft hums and the occasional gasp when you pushed her deeper.

Your breathing quickened as she found her rhythm, her technique honed with every passing second. Her lips tightened around you, her tongue pressing firmly against the sensitive underside as she bobbed her head. You groaned softly, the sound spurring her on as she worked to bring you closer to the edge.

When your climax hit, it was with a sharp exhale and a tightening of your grip on her hair. You pressed her down, holding her in place as you released, feeling her throat constrict as she swallowed without hesitation. Her cheeks hollowed as she took everything you gave, her obedience absolute.

As the waves of pleasure subsided, you leaned forward slightly, your hand loosening in her hair. “Tilt your head back,” you commanded, your tone low and firm. Eunha obeyed, tilting her head until her face was angled perfectly toward you. “Open,” you added, and her lips parted slowly, her breath coming in soft pants as you inspected her.

Your release pooled at the back of her throat, glistening under the dim light. The sight sent a surge of satisfaction through you, and you allowed yourself a moment to admire her submission before leaning forward slightly.

“Hold it,” you murmured. With one hand steadying her chin, you spat lightly into her mouth, the act deliberate and possessive—a seal of her surrender. “Now swallow.”

Eunha’s throat bobbed as she complied, her lips closing around the mix of sensations with no hesitation. Her eyes flickered upward, meeting yours briefly before darting away, her cheeks flushed with a mix of humiliation and pride.

“Good girl,” you said, your voice tinged with satisfaction as you wiped a thumb across her chin, catching a stray drop before it fell. You pulled her back slightly, your member still glistening as you began to tap it lightly against her lips, the soft, wet sounds drawing a faint blush to her already heated skin.

Your hand shifted to her cheek, guiding her head as you tapped her face twice, the subtle smack sending a shiver through her. The sound was muted yet deliberate, a reminder of her place and the power you held over her. Her lips parted instinctively, and you pressed the tip of your length against her once more, smirking as her breath hitched.

As you pulled back, your gaze flickered to Umji, who had remained rooted in place, her arms crossed tightly as she watched the entire scene unfold. Her expression was a mix of shock and disbelief, her lips parting slightly as if to speak, though no words came.

“I think we’re done here,” you said, your tone casual as though nothing unusual had just occurred. You gestured lazily toward the door, your attention still focused on Eunha’s flushed face. “We can’t meet up anymore.”

“What?” Umji managed, her voice rising slightly with disbelief.

You shrugged, the smirk on your lips unfaltering. “You see how it is. Eunha’s the one who belongs here now.”

Umji blinked, her gaze flickering between you and Eunha, still kneeling at your feet. Eunha’s chest rose and fell with uneven breaths, her hair disheveled and her cheeks still stained red from exertion and submission. Yet her eyes remained fixed on you, a silent devotion radiating from her as she knelt motionless, her body awaiting your next command.

Umji shifted on her feet, crossing her arms tighter as she glanced down at Eunha. “Eunha,” she said, her tone softer now, tinged with disbelief, “are you really okay with this? With him?”

Eunha didn’t respond. She didn’t move. Her gaze remained unwaveringly on you, as though Umji wasn’t even in the room. The lack of acknowledgement was as loud as any reply, leaving Umji stunned into silence.

“Well,” Umji said after a moment, her voice quieter. “I guess… I guess that’s that.” She hesitated, her gaze lingering on Eunha one last time before she turned toward the door. “Goodbye.”

The door clicked shut behind her, and the apartment fell into silence. You exhaled softly, leaning back against the couch as your hand slid through Eunha’s hair, the gentle motion drawing her gaze upward to meet yours.

“You’ve earned it,” you murmured, your voice low and approving. “You’re mine.”

Eunha’s lips parted slightly as a faint blush spread across her cheeks, her eyes shining with unspoken emotion. Slowly, she moved forward, her knees brushing against the carpet as she climbed into your lap, her arms wrapping around your neck with surprising tenderness. Her lips found yours in a soft, lingering kiss, her body melting against yours as if she belonged there—because she did.

Her breath was warm against your skin as she nestled against your chest, her head resting on your shoulder. The tension from moments before dissolved into something quieter, softer, as she clung to you. Her fingers traced absent patterns along your collarbone, her voice a soft whisper in the stillness.

“Thank you,” she murmured, her words carrying a weight that hinted at something deeper—a surrender not just of her body, but of her trust, her heart, and her place by your side.

You rested a hand on her back, the other threading lazily through her hair as you held her close. The silence between you wasn’t empty; it was full of an unspoken understanding, a bond forged through everything you had shared. At that moment, there was no doubt. Eunha was yours, and she wouldn’t have it any other way.

[xodite]

MDNI

Female yandere oc x fem reader x fem! Yan! Oc!

Light smut incoming

This fantasy post includes forced Pussy eating, soft cnc, bondage, kidnapping, chase kink, fem characters, fem genitalia, cult leader, worship kink, blood, bondage and praise.

The cult leaders pet

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~ - ~

After finding pictures in the forest while camping of dead bodies drained of their blood with a deadly cults logo as-well as a gorgeous woman with long brown hair and hazel eyes standing on top of the bodies you dash to find help, will you escape in time?

You ran through the harsh secluded forest with the cold winds rushing through your hair as you raced away from your camp where you found those cursed images only two things ran through your mind, were you next? And what the fuck was that?

Through your jumbled thoughts and ragged breaths you looked down to see the pictures in your hands again. These images looked hauntingly like the witness described pictures of the deadly cult that lived in these woods, although those were just rumours right? Paranoia raced through your body as you breathed harder until you heard a haunting branch crack behind you. There was someone behind you. And they didn’t have the best intentions with you. Especially with those images you held in your hands.

You continued to race through the forest as you heard ragged breaths and angry desperate cries. The cries rang around your thumping panicked mind. They were loud and horrid. The cries pinged your mind and plagued the deepest crevice of your mind.

In a panic you spotted a thick couple of bushes and hid in there, accidentally dropping the evidence aka the photos. As you watched them fall you heard two people arguing angrily then complete silence. Utter silence. Before a soft woman’s voice rang out from the bush after her perfect manicured fingers picked up the now muddied photos.

“Sweet thing! come on out~! Poor thing your probably so petrified~ trust me our goddesses will be so welcoming! There’s nothing to fear!”

The voice chirped condescendingly as you heard them rustle in the bushes around you, increasingly getting more and more aggressive. They wanted to find you and they wanted to find you now. Then it all came crashing down upon your poor brain as you realized, they wanted you. They wanted to offer you like they did to those to their leaders. The cult was real.

As the wandering hands came closer you felt your muscles tense and you dashed out of the bushes, desperate to escape. At the sudden movement you caught the eye of the near by follower and they attempted to grab onto you, pushing you both into mud as your knees bled from the sharp stick and rock slivers in the wet mud. You desperately crawled away while screaming for help as loud as you could. Suddenly you no longer felt the crushing grip on your leg and looked behind you. The followers were bowing?

Your eyes looked infront of you to see two taller beautiful woman. Cold horror rushed through your veins as you realized one of the woman were in the photos. They were both dressed in riches and soft silk fabrics as they looked down upon you. One had beautiful black silk dressings while the other had white dressings. You easily recognized the one in the black dress as the woman who stood upon the dead bodies.

Cold Horror struck through your bones as your ragged breaths rang audibly through the tense atmosphere. You had no where to run.

Before you could react you felt a sharp pinch in the back of your neck as everything went dark, one of the followers must’ve used a sedative dart. The only thing you felt after that was cold silence as you heard your body thump in the mud and felt yourself fall out of consciousness and the harsh ear ringing sound that permanently altered your hearing.

- smut warning -

You awoke chained to the hard cold ground on your knees infront of the two woman who sat on simple yet elegant wooden chairs. Once you got a clearer look at them you realized they were both hauntingly gorgeous yet something about them ran shivers down your spine. Wordlessly the one with lighter silks stood and laid a gentle hand against your face and slowly guided your disoriented mouth to her smooth delicate pussy. You shook your head no softly yet she tugged harder on your hair, causing tears to run down your face.

“Behave.”

The powerful woman above you demanded as she continued to push your face into her pussy to your dismay. At the rough action you felt the other cult leaders arms wrap around your waist and heard her smooth voice speak to the woman above you,

“Iradita my love, be gentle.”

The woman spoke while slowly slipping her two fingers onto your underwear, slowly massaging your clit. You moaned softly as her skilled fingers continued to attack the little bundle of nerves, ignoring your little whimpers of disapproval.

“Irademia. I shall do as I please, and this sweet girl is going to eat my pussy.”

Iradita hissed while shoving your face into her pussy demandingly. Horror washed through your body as you remembered the news about the horrors they put their victims through, it was better to stay on their good sides. You slowly stuck your tongue on her clit and licked gently. The woman above you groaned and moved her pussy around on your tongue, obviously enjoying it. Her grip on your hair loosened as she whispered,

“Oh sweet girl I’m going to enjoy you, keep going for I am your goddess”

Terrified of Iradita’s anger you kept going, on the edge of cumming from Irademia fingering, you started to suck desperately on Iraditas clit for some form of comfort from the sensitivity in your clit from the merciless massaging. Finally you came on Irademia’s fingers, coming undone and collapsing in her arms. At your movement Irademia caught you and allowed you to rest on her as she continued playing with you.

Iradita groaned and placed one leg over your shoulder, placing her pussy on your face, forcing you to keep eating her out. This was going to be a long night, and you were theirs now, their pet. Their offering.

[sirenedeslily]

𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐑𝐄𝐄𝐒 ‎𐦍 𝐦atthew 𝐬turniolo

❛ i’m 𝒉𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒈 from the 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞. ❜

𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐜𝐡 matt thought the crash was the first tremor, the first sign that everything was unraveling. but when yn vanished, the woods grew colder, the trees twisted into shadows, and nothing—not even their love—could hide from the dark that followed.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠, angst, cannibalism (not too descriptive), psychological manipulation, slight use of religious imagery, trauma, gore, morally grey characters, death, this is set in a yellowjackets-inspired universe, drawing on the show’s general premise without incorporating its specific plot.. so no spoilers of the actual series !!!

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭, 3k !

𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬, this fic’s plots is completely me, i cannot stress it enough !! while the yellowjacket girls make an appearance, i only borrowed the general themes of the crash and the cannibalism aspect from the show. what happens here is completely separate from the actual series, so the outcomes of the yellowjacket characters do not reflect their portrayal in the show. eeeeeeeenjoy

the crash wasn’t the worst part.

not the grinding sound of the engines tearing themselves apart mid-air, not the cabin screams that split the air sharper than metal, not the sick pull of gravity as we spiraled down. not even the splintered bodies lying limp in the wreckage. that part ended. it was brutal, yes, but quick. final.

the worst part came after.

the fear swallowed us whole, silent and endless. the trees whispered things that didn’t make sense, shadows moved at the edge of sight, and the fear burrowed into our bones, becoming a part of us. hunger, though, that was louder than any scream. it started small, a tremor, an ache, and then it became everything. it clawed through every thought, every shred of hope.

“we’ll make it.” that’s what matt said. his voice had this strange certainty, like words alone could hold back the dark. we were dragging scraps of metal and wood into a crude pile that might pass as shelter. his hands were red and raw. “you’re tough, yn. you’ll survive this.”

i nodded because i didn’t want to say what we were both thinking.

hunger changes people. you don’t notice it all at once, just the little cracks forming. one day, someone takes an extra bite from their ration. the next, someone else disappears into the woods, and when they come back, their pockets are empty, but their lips are slick. we watched each other through the smoke of the fire, saw the hollows forming in each other’s cheeks, the glint of something desperate in everyone’s eyes.

i was the first.

the others would pretend it was the forest, the cold, or god himself that took me. but it wasn’t. not really. it was them—their eyes, their hunger, their hands.

i didn’t climb that tree to save myself. i climbed it for matt. his stupid lighter, the one he swore was more important to him than anything else, had gotten stuck in the branches. he said it was the last piece of home he had, the last piece of himself.

so i climbed.

the bark splintered in my palms as i climbed higher, the wind ripping at my face. i didn’t think about the branches snapping beneath me or how far i’d fall. i didn’t think about myself at all.

i thought about him.

when the branch pierced my stomach, i didn’t scream. not at first. i just stared at it—jagged, wet, too much. then i slipped, and the second branch tore through my thigh.

i held onto the lighter. i held on even when i hit the ground.

but no one came.

i lay there for hours, the blood soaking into the dirt beneath me. i tried to crawl back, but the woods stretched on endlessly. my nails scraped against the earth, my breath hitched in my throat, and the sky flickered above, like a fading light—undecided, as though it couldn’t choose whether to help or simply watch me die.

by the second day, i was too weak to move. the blood had dried, sticky and black, and the roots curled around me like they were pulling me under. i tried to pray, but my voice cracked, so i bit into the dirt instead.

god didn’t save me.

but the woods were there.

they buried me beneath the leaves, letting the branches weave themselves through my skin. they made me part of them—part of everything.

the others didn’t find me until it was too late.

i remember the way they stared.

shauna cursed under her breath, her face hard like she was trying not to care. jackie gasped, her hands covering her mouth, her eyes filling with tears she wouldn’t let fall. nat turned away, and tai kept her arms crossed, biting the inside of her cheek like she wanted to disappear.

but matt…

matt knelt beside me, his hands trembling as he picked up the lighter from where it had fallen, his thumb brushing over the bloodstains on the metal.

he didn’t cry. he just stared at me, like he was seeing me for the first time.

i don’t know how long they left me there. maybe it was days. maybe weeks. the forest swallowed time like it swallowed me, stretching it out until they couldn’t take it anymore.

they stopped looking at me like i was yn—the girl who argued with nat about firewood, who laughed too loud when jackie told bad jokes, who kissed matt behind the cabin when no one else was looking.

they started looking at me like i was something else.

lottie was the first. she whispered that i was chosen, that the forest had claimed me but left me for them. she lit candles by my body, pressed her hands to the ground like she was trying to feel my heartbeat through the earth.

the others followed.

they stopped saying my name. they started calling me a gift. a sign. a saviour.

matt didn’t say a word.

but i could feel his hands, brushing the leaves from my hair, smoothing the blood from my cheeks. i could feel how he stayed by my side even as the others began to lose themselves.

it wasn’t devotion.

it was desperation.

and when the hunger finally broke them, it wasn’t lottie who made the first cut. it wasn’t shauna, or misty, or even tai.

it was matt.

i watched him with the knife in his hand, his jaw tight, his eyes dark. he told himself it was for them, that it was for me. but i knew the truth.

it wasn’t love that drove him. it was guilt.

the air was thick with smoke and desperation. they whispered things like “it’s what she would’ve wanted.” like that made it less cruel.

they consumed me piece by piece, carving me into something i never was. i felt it all—not the pain, but the betrayal. lottie whispered prayers as she chewed. shauna didn’t say a word. nat wouldn’t look at me, her shoulders shaking as she tried to convince herself this wasn’t what it was.

it took them weeks to tear me apart.

but it would take them years to forget.

matt wouldn’t, though.

he carried me with him, in the dirt beneath his fingernails, in the whispers of the trees, in the ache that settled in his chest every time he thought of me.

they called me an angel. a prophet.

but i wasn’t.

they called me a saviour. said i saved them. turned my name into something holy, something they could cling to when the guilt crept in.

they lied to themselves because the truth was too much to bear. i wasn’t their salvation. i wasn’t their light.

i was the first.

the first meal.

the wilderness turned me into something they could use. a forest maiden wrapped in moss, silent and still, hanging like the last line of a song.

the roots, the branches, the dirt. i was the hunger that twisted them into something monstrous.

and matt?

matt would never escape me.

because no matter how much of me he consumed, no matter how much he buried me beneath his guilt, he knew the truth.

i wasn’t a gift. i wasn’t salvation.

i was betrayal.

and he loved me anyway.

i lingered in him like rot.

everytime matt closed his eyes, i was there—my body stretched out on the forest floor, blood pooling beneath me, my fingers still curled around that lighter. he could still see the wounds, the gaping holes that the branches had carved into me. and he could still hear my voice, though he told himself it was just the wind moving through the trees.

i wasn’t letting him go.

the others moved on in their way. lottie twisted the story of my death into something holy, a sign of the forest’s will. she told them i had been chosen because i was pure, because i had given myself to something greater. they needed to believe it. they needed to make my suffering mean something.

shauna didn’t believe it—not really. but she clung to it anyway, like she clung to everything that made her feel powerful. she became a shadow of herself, the dog that lottie trained to obey. shauna sharpened the knives. shauna prepared the fires. shauna made it easy for them to swallow me, to carve me into pieces until i was unrecognizable.

jackie didn’t touch me.

she stayed in the cabin most days, silent and trembling, her eyes red and swollen. i think she knew what would happen to her next. it didn’t matter that she hadn’t eaten me, that she had refused to look at me once they carried my body back. she knew the forest wouldn’t spare her.

and nat—god, nat. she carried the weight of all of it on her shoulders. she cursed herself for not finding me sooner, for not hearing my screams. she never prayed with lottie, never touched the offerings. but she wasn’t innocent. she had eaten me too. they all had.

even matt.

especially matt.

he stayed by my side, even when the others began to look at me as a thing, a relic, a resource. he refused to leave the spot where they had placed me, curling his body around mine like i could still feel his warmth. he whispered to me when no one else was listening, told me he was sorry, told me it wasn’t supposed to be like this.

but his hands betrayed him.

when they carved into me, when they pulled me apart, matt didn’t look away. he didn’t stop them. he held the knife himself, trembling but determined. i don’t know what he told himself in those moments—maybe that i would’ve wanted this, that it was a kindness, that it was survival.

but i could feel him breaking.

he tried to bury what he had done, what they had all done. but i wouldn’t let him.

i was in the dirt he walked on, in the branches that scraped against the cabin windows at night, in the silence of the forest that stretched on for miles. i was in his mind, in the flicker of the lighter he couldn’t bear to throw away, in the breath he couldn’t seem to catch every time he thought of me.

matt loved me.

but love wasn’t enough to save me.

and now, it wasn’t enough to save him.

because i was everywhere now. in every shadow, in every prayer lottie whispered, in every crackling fire that reminded them of the warmth they had once known.

i was everything they had turned me into.

and i was never leaving.

they carried me with them. not my memory, not the person i was, but what i’d turned into. they left pieces of themselves in the leaves, the dirt, the jagged roots of the forest that had consumed me. but they carried pieces of me, too—in their blood, in their bones, in their guilt.

when they walked out of the wilderness and into the arms of rescue, i stayed behind.

the world called them survivors. they painted them as heroes, as victims, as something worth saving. they didn’t know the truth. they didn’t know what they did to me, how they turned me into something i wasn’t

but matt—matt still visits me. not the real me, not the girl i was before the crash, but the idea of me that he’s convinced himself exists. he comes every year, kneeling at the polished stone that bears my name. it isn’t really my grave—just a polished stone with my name on it, a symbol for the girl you needed me to be. a hollow monument, as hollow as the promises he whispered into my dead ears.

“you saved us,” he whispers sometimes, like saying it enough times might make it true.

but i wasn’t their saviour.

i was their sacrifice.

and they had no right to me.

he brings lilies every time—delicate, white, pristine as the snow that buried jackie later, pristine as the image of me he’s built in his head. he lays them down carefully, his hands shaking as if the act itself is sacred.

i hate the lilies.

he doesn’t talk much, just sits there for hours like the weight of my name carved into stone might somehow balance the weight on his chest. Sometimes he cries, quiet and ashamed, like he knows i’m watching, like he can feel the anger twisting in the empty space i’ve become.

but other times.. most times, he’s silent. not out of peace, but out of exhaustion. he looks thinner every year, his face pale and hollow, haunted by the ghosts he doesn’t dare name aloud.

i wonder if he hears me. if he can feel the cold breath of my resentment when the wind rustles the trees or the sharp edge of my betrayal in the silence that stretches between us.

it doesn’t matter.

none of their apologies matter.

because i am not that girl in the stories they tell themselves to sleep at night.

tai, who circled like a vulture, never touching but always hungry, until she finally sank her teeth into me, reshaping me into something twisted, something unrecognizable; nat, who whispered quiet lies into my ear, feeding me fragments of myself until there was nothing left but the hollow echo of who i used to be; shauna, who sharpened the knives and prepared the fire but pretends she wasn’t the first to look at me with that kind of hunger. van, who laughed too loudly and cried too quietly and ate me anyway. misty, who smiled as she said my name, who let herself believe it was all just survival. even lottie, with her empty eyes and her false divinity, calling me something holy while she carved into me like i was already gone.

they all came at first.

in the weeks after they were found, they came with trembling hands and whispered prayers. they placed offerings at my grave—tokens of their guilt disguised as gratitude. “you saved us,” they said, over and over, as if they could rewrite what happened with repetition alone.

but then they stopped coming.

the world beyond the wilderness swallowed them whole, wrapped them in warmth and comfort until they could almost forget the cold. almost.

nat tells herself that every breath she takes is a result of my sacrifice. she thinks of me when she looks in the mirror, when the guilt weighs heavy on her chest. she pretends that my death was necessary, that it’s what kept her alive, but she knows the truth—she watched as i was consumed, and she couldn’t stop it.. didn’t stop it.

tai tells herself that what she did was survival, that it wasn’t personal. she thinks of me when she’s alone in the dark, when the night feels too quiet. she pretends that my end was just another part of the game, but the truth gnaws at her, and she can never quite forget the way she let it happen.

shauna tells herself that every joy in her life is my gift to her. she thinks of me when her daughter laughs, when the candles on the birthday cake flicker in the warm light of her kitchen. she pretends my death bought her happiness.

van dreams of me, sometimes, though she never speaks my name. she sees me in the shadows, in the dirt beneath her fingernails, in the roots that still cling to her boots when she wakes. she tastes me in the back of her throat, bitter and rotten.

misty doesn’t dream at all.

and lottie—lottie prays to me. even now, even after everything, she still believes i was chosen, that i was destined to feed the earth, to become the roots and the trees and the endless, hungering dark.

but matt—matt keeps coming back. year after year, he carries my ghost with him, dragging it behind him like a broken promise. he looks at the stone, and i wonder if he’s seeing me or the version of me he created to survive.

i wasn’t a saviour. i wasn’t a martyr. i wasn’t the girl who gave herself willingly for the sake of the group.

i was terrified. i was angry. i died clutching the edges of my own fading humanity, praying that someone, anyone, would remember me as i was, not as what they turned me into.

but the wilderness doesn’t let you stay human.

it hollows you out. it makes you a vessel for hunger, for fear, for survival. and when it’s done, it spits you back out into the world, a monster in the shape of a person.

matt isn’t a monster, not in the way the others are.

he’s worse.

he’s the one who carries the weight of all their sins. he’s the one who lets it break him, piece by piece, as if his suffering could ever be enough to absolve them.

but guilt isn’t justice.

it’s not forgiveness, and it’s not redemption. It’s just another kind of hunger, gnawing away at the edges of his soul.

i want to scream at him, shake him, make him see that his penance means nothing to me.

but he doesn’t know me either.

none of them do.

they don’t know the girl who climbed that tree because matt’s lighter was stuck at the top and he couldn’t sleep without it. they don’t know the girl who laughed too loudly, who loved too fiercely, who was afraid of the dark but never said it out loud. they don’t know the girl who screamed when the branch stabbed through her side, who crawled, bleeding and broken, through the dirt while the wilderness swallowed her whole.

they don’t know the girl who died alone, hungry, cold, choking on dirt she thought might keep her alive just a little longer.

all they know is the version of me they created.

the saint. the saviour. the pretty girl consumed by death.

you don’t know the girl i was, the girl i could’ve been if you hadn’t taken everything from me. and now, i am the trees, the roots, the forest itself. i am the thing you buried and the thing you carry, and you will never escape me.

matt, you will never know me. no matter how many lilies you bring, no matter how many hours you spend staring at that stone, whispering apologies i’ll never accept.

i am not your saviour.

i am the girl you betrayed.

and every year, when the lilies bloom and the wind whispers through the trees, I wonder if you feel it—if you hear my voice, sharp and cold as the wilderness that made us.

you don’t even know me.

and you never will.

the wilderness stripped us bare, turned us into something monstrous, something less than human. you think you carried me out of it, but i was gone long before you walked away. i’m hanging from the tree, suspended in your mind, a phantom you can’t escape.

i hope you know i loved you. even after everything, even after the lies and the hunger and the fire, i loved you. but i wasn’t your saviour. i wasn’t your salvation.

i was just a girl—a girl who loved, and in the end, that was all i was allowed to be.

𝒢𝜚 💭 ࣪ ✸ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 ∿ we knew this was bound to happen as the #1 yellowjacket truther.. sneaked in some jackieshauna and lottieshauna for my own personal benefit :p also i know it’s repetitive but it’s purposeful.. omg send me asks ab this plsplspls

❝ 𝟐𝟐𝟐 ❞ 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻, @carvedtits @et6rnalsun @wovenribbons @flouvela @eternaldecisions @elizabebabe @ncm9696 @marrykisskilled

❝ 𝟑𝟑𝟑 ❞ 𝑻𝑨𝑮𝑳𝑰𝑺𝑻, @l34n @sturniolossss @lovingregulusblack @cl1tlover3000 @mattslolita @mattssgf @le4hsblog @brvtall @mattscoquette @chratts-left-ball @jetaimevous @angelesqve @starlace111 @secretlocket @starkeyszn @etherealval @slut4chriss @star-yawnznn @nickmillersn1gf @sturnsmia @tastesousweet @strnilolover @xoxo4chrisss @madifilipowiczslvt

[simp-ly-writes]

Personal Hell (pt.9) Snippet

Pairing: (Hazbin Hotel) Lucifer Morningstar x demon overlord!Reader

A/N: a bit of what is to come, thank you all for waiting so patiently- really appreciate it!! School is fighting with me but only a bit longer to go! I'll try and have the complete chapter out as soon as I can. :)

Masterlist | Taglist | edited.

Clapping your hands together, hundreds of fireflies hurry themselves towards the ceiling- illuminating the space as you spin with a satisfied hum. Mahogany shelves line behind a grand desk that sits on a taller platform than your own. The chair demands a demanding presence without a body filling its seat, memories of you refusing to look up towards this very desk has you looking back over your shoulder as Lucifer leans against the doorframe with a lazy smile across his face. “Sometime it has been since I have been in this room…” he sarcastically comments, watching as a spider crawls its way across the floor and into a windowsill filled with cobwebs as your cringe in thought to all the eyes of the creature staring back at you. 

Shaking your head, disrupting a shiver, you make your way up to the desk, leaning on its surface as your hands trail over the various letters you had sent capturing your adventures and battles before taking up a full-time position at the palace. You hum out, picking up a letter with dried black blood, flipping it over and ushering out the note as it reads, “Best of Mornings, Queen Lilith and Company. I write to you today as an update from the front lines of outer rings. The civil war is soon to be under control once again as discussions have progressed with the deadly sins, I report that from now on I will no longer be talking to Lust after a… personal encounter. Flipping the page, there is a list of necessary equipment to be sent towards the western front that I will be maintaining come morning. To address your earlier concerns, I have endured minor injuries in the fight yet I cannot speak for the hundreds of my fellow brothers and sisters that have become ill in recent time- I cannot urge enough for supplies to come at the earliest moment. Sincerely, General Peacekeeper: your entrusted confidant, historian, and ally.” 

Your finger glides over your panicked writing, you remember writing this note while swords and bullets crashed over your head while knee deep in the trenches. Dead-man's land was littered with corpses, the scent vile- burning your nose with its decay as you readied the line for yet another charge as you powered up your shadows in the turning of nightfall. You fail to notice as Lucifer has taken a seat at his desk, his legs spread as he pats his thigh, motioning for you to take a seat as you both continue reading through yet another distant lifetime. 

One of his warm palms rests on your thigh, sneaking its way upwards as your breath hitches, swinging yourself to point him a glare. You both freeze as the door slams open and a dozen staff members present themselves to you, wide-eyed and seemingly in a frenzy. Taking a stand quickly, you jump down the stairs and listen to the hurried sentences they all speak out at once- barley picking up any of the words except for three that continue to get repeated, “Charlie, Speech, War.” 

Shit. You whisper underneath your breath, your battle armor settling against your skin in an instant, clashing against your spear as you swing it to rest on your back. Lucifer stumbles to a stand, running around the desk yet you fall to the floor and into the cracks between the wood in a blink, travelling through the shadows towards the Hotel as the King grips out his hair- cursing himself. Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Hazbin Hotel Masterlist

↳ Taglist: @jtcat305 @tati-the-fangirl @randomgurl2326 @22carolina08 @amarokofficial @cynjinx0 @legacyreadsfics @repentant-repeller @ly-doodels

[rubydubydoo122]

In every universe Jason Peter Todd dies young. It’s a fate sealed across the multiverse. Maybe he could hope that there’s one universe where he doesn’t. aka, Jason, Dick, and Bruce go multiverse hopping, and are not having a fun time. (Ps, when I started writing this fic I hced Jason as Latino, but I don't really believe in that hc anymore, so just a heads up if you don't like that hc)

TRIGGER WARNING -> Child Death (it's Jason), and lowkey cannibalistic gore?

Jason found himself kneeling in grass, rain pelting down, soaking his hair, and knees. He leaded his head forwards and closed his eyes, murmuring a soft, “May holy Mary, the angels, and all the saints come to meet you as you go forth from this life.” to the Robin that had just died. 

In the background, he could hear Dick yelling, “Let me at him! He just– let me go !”

“Dick, Chum, we’re not–we’re not in the Manor anymore.”

No. They were in a cemetery. Specifically, Jason was kneeling in front of his grave. He knew what was going to happen. He wasn’t going to try to stop this one.

Jason turned around, to sit on the slight ledge of his grave and leaned his head back, until it was touching stone.

“Why are we…?” Dick trailed off. He wasn’t exactly looking to where Jason was sitting, but he was looking at a tombstone.

Bruce was staring down Jason again, and Jason buried his face in his hands to break eye contact, “I think we need to take a break. Figure out everything we know. Maybe get some rest. I think we have about two-five hours here.” probably closer to two. He remembers panicking.

Dick turned to Jason with a question on his face, but then saw where Jason was sitting. His eyes narrowed, “You’re already dead here? So maybe the pattern was wrong. All we have to do is wait for Talia to show up, follow her, and rescue you after you’ve taken a dip in the pit.”

“Talia didn’t go grave robbing. She’s not crazy, and Bruce has sensors for that. He would’ve known.”

Dick moved closer to Jason, “Then how…?”

He stared hard at the patch of dirt. The feeling of his nails cracking and dirt in his mouth, suddenly overtaking him. Except, that wasn’t the worst part. The worst part was before that. It was the true serenity, followed by the sudden hit of life. The feeling of being woken up from a good dream that you never wanted to leave. 

He was at rest. Let him stay asleep. “I woke up.”

Bruce crossed his arms, “You…woke up? As in…” He looked from the tombstone to the ground.

Jason showed him his hands in response. The jagged lines where the wood tore off his nails and skin. The crooked finger that broke while clawing through mud that never quite set properly.

All of Jason’s injuries were healed by the time he got to the pit. It was just his mind that was broken. So he was still left with all the scars from before he died, and after.

He felt the hairs on his neck stand up as the mystical forces picked up around them. He’d just woken up.

Dick looked pale, but he immediately knelt to the ground and started clawing at the mud, “We’ve gotta get you out– is the a shovel somewhere or–”

“Dick, stop.”

“Jason, This is the only you we know we can save.”

“No. We don’t . When I crawled out of my grave, I was completely catatonic. I was a husk of a human being. Blood might’ve been pumping through my veins and air might’ve been flowing through my lungs, but I was not alive .” Jason pointed to his temple, “Not in here. I aimlessly wandered the streets, and got hit by a car , Dick.”

“Then we help get him to this world’s Bruce.”

“You think Talia didn’t want to do just that ? I know you guys think she kept me from you for her own selfish reasons, but she didn’t . After she found me she wasn’t sure that I’d survive to the next day . That’s how impaired I was. She didn’t give me back to Bruce because she didn’t want him to lose me again , because she thought it would absolutely break him.” 

“We could–”

“If he lives he lives, if he dies he dies . Your grief is clouding your judgment.” 

“How could you say that? If it was a civilian who was buried alive , we would do anything in our power to get them out .”

“Because it’s different! I wasn’t buried alive , I was buried dead . I’m a cosmic mistake– higher entities have told me that. I’m supposed to be dead. He’s ,” Jason pointed to the ground, “Supposed to be dead. Bruce always says we can’t play Judge, Juror or Executioner. We can’t play God either. Let him rest . Just let him rest.” 

For a beat, they were all frozen. Until Dick moved to sit next to him. Legs pressed up against each other. Making sure Jason was really in front of him, and not some cruel hallucination.

Suddenly, the rain stopped pelting on top of them, and the night sky was a lot darker than before. 

Bruce was holding his cape up to shield them from the rain. Like he used to do when they were both much smaller. Yet, it still felt oddly the same. “Dick and I need new civilian clothes. After that, we should get food.”

They started towards Gotham city. There were carved pumpkins and skeletons everywhere, so it was near Halloween. The bat signal was lit, and the people of Gotham were wearing gas masks. So Scarecrow was out. It probably was Halloween. 

That’s crazy. Did Jason really crawl out of his grave on Halloween? Though, it was an alternate reality, so maybe this Jay did, for shits and giggles, but Jason might not have.

“Is… was today Tim’s first day on the job?” Dick was currently drowning his pancakes in maple syrup. They were all in civies, and sitting in a booth at a 24 hour diner. It had shut down, but had always been a quick stop for food after a rough patrol.

Jason pushed the thought of the young Tim sobbing against his chest. He’s never going to be as big as you . None of the four Jason's will.

“Yes.” Bruce forked a piece of his eggs, and caught Jason’s look. though, he probably read it wrong because, “He showed up to fight Scarecrow with a red ski mask.” Bruce raised an eyebrow, “I’m sure you came back out of pure spite.”

Jason blinked. That was a joke… from Bruce. Did he get a concussion? Was he in shock? 

He looked to Dick who seemed more exasperated than phased. 

Bruce cleared his throat when he realized the joke didn’t seem to land, “We need to figure out if there’s more to this than just Jay dying. We have two caused by the Joker, one that was an accident, and the other was natural causes. I don’t think the cause of death will be the same.”

Jason pushed around some berries on his plate, “Bruce, do you think that the Joker's confrontation was… a bit too intimate for a Joker that wasn’t ours?” It was his confrontation with Bruce pretty much word for word. It made him want to throw up.

Dick gripped his fork harder as both him and Bruce said, “Yes.”

Jason looked at Dick in confusion. As far as he knew, Bruce did not talk about that night with anyone. Except Dick didn’t feel the need to explain. Which is fine, he’s allowed to have his secrets, but now he’s wondering what part of that confrontation was directed to get under Dick’s skin. “But we’re not in that reality anymore. Our priority should be making sure each Jason we come across is safe.”

“Though I don’t disagree, our priority should be finding a way home.” Bruce countered, and looked to Jason pointedly, “We can’t play God. We’re being sent to universes where Jason is fated to…die. There might not be much we can do.”

“The Tragedy of Jason Todd: The Boy Fated to Die.” Jason paused, “Hm, that’d be a great title for my autobiography.”

Dick sighed defeatedly, “Hush, Jason, the adults are speaking.”

(Hi! Author here! I wanna have Jason go, “Well I’m taller,” in Tiny Tim fashion and Dick go, “Well, currently, you’re six feet under. So shut the fuck up.” But it’s terribly ooc, so I’m not. Just know that I really wanted to write it though)

“Dick, I’m 23.”

Dick, like the dick he was, ignored that, “What if we talked to Wally.”

Bruce made his, I don’t need help, I’m Batman face. Dick rolled his eyes, “He might not be able to bring us back home, but maybe he can get a message to the family or something. They can work on a device from home. It’s the same plan from before, just… more communication.”

Jason nodded, “I mean… It was both of your lack of communication that got us into this mess. Maybe that’s the lesson you need to learn. To talk and share.”

“Says Mr. I’ve been alive for seven years and I’m only just now telling my family my mother betrayed me and I crawled out of my own grave. ” 

“That’s different. That’s trauma. I should be allowed the grace to tell you guys when I’m comfortable with telling you guys.” Though, maybe he should tell them about the magic swords he has. 

Nah, it’s not that important.

“Well, you didn’t  tell us about your previous cosmic adventure.”

“That’s honestly because Bruce is a super stalker and I thought he already knew.”

To that, Dick had nothing to say.

“I want a mission report on this.”

“Bruce, it was literally five years ago. The only thing I remember is Rayner and I fighting every five minutes. God that guy was… embittered. He thought I was trying to get with Donna.” Like ew, no, that was Jason’s big sister… Even though he shot her. But it worked out in the long run. And what’s a little bloodshed between siblings. He, Damian, and Tim were relatively ok. 

Dick frowned, “Huh, usually Kyle’s really nice to everyone.”

“Well, apparently he has a thing against ‘Angst Ridden Bad Boys’, his words, not mine.”

Dick raised his eyebrows, “Oh that totally sums you up. Did he also have a thing against you quoting Hamlet? Did he absolutely loathe you geeking out over 19th century fashion.” 

“Oh! We actually did go to a Victorian Era Gotham. That was honestly probably the best part of our multiversal adventure. Wait. We’re getting off track. I think we should vote. All in favor of talking to Wally…” He and Dick both raised their hands. “Two against one. Sorry Bruce.”

Bruce stabbed his eggs, “We’re not calling Wally, because we’re currently in Gotham and my no-metas allowed rule was like an iron fist during this time period. Maybe if we go to a universe where we can actually talk to our counterparts, then we can call whatever runner is available. For now, we’re getting our bearings. Anything other commonality we might’ve missed”

Dick mashed a banana that was on his plate, “I would say they were all… birds. Except the second one.”

Jason pushed his plate towards the center, and unfolded a napkin, “Bruce, can I have a pen– or a marker would be better so I don’t rip the page, but anything.” 

Bruce handed him a copic red marker, that was probably Damian’s. During stakeouts he usually starts sketching. 

Jason made a T-chart, going down were traits, and across was each Jason. Mama’s boy Jay, Jay #2, Regina George Jay, Jay+Egg, and Zombie.

“Those are horrible headings.”

“Should I have done Jay 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5?”

“Yes.”

Jason shrugged, “Oh well, too late now.”

The first trait was Robin? “What are we qualifying for… the mantle? Cus, technically, Mama’s Boy was supposed to be taking a break from it, Regina George wasn’t in the suit, and Zombie… hasn’t been to work in a while.”

Bruce grunted, “Yes, no, yes, yes, no.”

“I know there isn’t any correlation between them, but the places.”

Jason jotted that down– Ethiopia :(, Crime Alley, Corner of Diamond and Old, Wayne Manor, Six Feet Under Gotham Cemetery.

“Cause of…ya know.”

Smoke Inhalation, Hypothermia, probable collapsed lung/concussion, Gunshot wound– Carotid Artery, Co2 poisoning Suffocation, Just in case it’s the dirt, not the air. They’ll know if they disappear before the five hour mark. Jason furrowed his eyebrows, and jotted down the ages, 15, 10, 13, 14, 16? 15,

Dick glanced at the page, “Hopefully, that changes. Maybe we’ll get an age range of Jays. And hopefully 10 year old Jay was an outlier.” 

The chances of that were low, but Jason wasn’t going to tell Dick that. There were hundreds of opportunities for him to die on the streets. 10 was probably the lowest value, but the mode was probably… 11. He was fighting for his life on the streets trying not to get pimped again by the time the next winter came around. Making a plot chart might not be a bad idea. Though that would have to be later. With real paper.

 He folded up the napkin, handed both the marker and their info sheet to Bruce, and brought back his plate of strawberry french toast. He wanted to say, “You’re optimistic if you really think I had a higher chance at life while I was living on the streets.” but he didn’t. Because his mouth was full, and Alfred had taught him manners. 

 They continued to eat in silence, until a chill ran down Jason’s spine. “I think we’re gonna leave soon.” When both Bruce and Dick gave him a confused look, he groaned, “if we were in a universe where your counterpart was dying, you would know too.”

Bruce got out his wallet and placed a 100 dollar bill on the table, as Dick grabbed The T duffle bag with their stuff, and the room turned white.

(The Lamb, By William Blake)

As soon as they landed in this new universe, Jason could immediately tell the magic was much stronger in this universe.

The next thing he could immediately tell was that he was in a warehouse. Again. Yey.

“Mea!” Was that… a lamb? Jason peaked over the crate they were hiding behind, and yup, that was a Lamb. A really really bloody Lamb. It was a surprise it was still alive. And a scraggly looking dog was eating– 

No. Not a dog.

He slowly squatted back down, “There's a Hyena…”

Dicks eyes grew comically wide, as a giggle pierced through the warehouse. The giggle evolved into a laugh and abruptly cut off as the Lamb cried out. 

Then the laughter started up again. Somehow, it was worse than– The Hyena was– the Joker was– the Hyena was laughing.

Jason gripped his kris, “Let me kill it.”

“Jason you need to brea–”

“It’s just a stupid dog. It’s just a stupid dog. Let me kill it!”The Joker – The Hyena– was laughing, and laughing, and laughing . The Joker’s – The Hyena’s – Lips were stained red, red, red . Jason– The Lamb – was crying. Jason was crying, the Lamb was crying . The laughter got louder, and louder and louder , and– 

No.

This wasn’t worth Jason’s time and nervous system. 

He sat up and threw his kris right in between the Hyena’s eyes, and it stopped laughing. The Joker– no, the Hyena stopped Laughing. 

Except the Hyena was slowly turning more humanoid. Its deep brown coat was being leeched of its color. It’s paws turning into hands that were white. Feet that were white. It’s snout staying stained red while it morphed into a crimson red smile that always seemed to haunt Jason.

Jason looked away from the body. He’s killed plenty of people before, he doesn’t mind killing the people who deserve it. Except that laugh. That fucking laugh. It never annoyed him before, but… it sounded so… uncanny . 

The Lamb… wasn’t looking good at all. Its wool was stained red, chunks of its flesh were missing from where the Joker had eaten it alive. Its intestines were spilling out of its stomach. Lining the floor with half mangled internal organs–

The Lambs' features began to change. 

Into–

Into a young Jason.

Who- who couldn’t have been older than 12. Who was curled up on himself trying to keep his insides that were already out, in, even though it was a losing battle

Jason squatted down to brush Jay’s hair back, “Little Lamb who made thee; Dost thou know who made thee; Gave thee life & bid thee feed; By the stream & o'er the mead; Gave thee clothing of delight; Softest clothing wooly bright; Gave thee such a tender voice; Making all the vales rejoice! Little Lamb who made thee; Dost thou know who made thee; 

“Little Lamb I'll tell thee, Little Lamb I'll tell thee! He is called by thy name; For he calls himself a Lamb: He is meek & he is mild; He became a little child: thou a child & I a lamb; We are called by his name. Little Lamb God bless thee. Little Lamb God bless thee.” Jason closed his eyes, “ May holy Mary, the angels, and all the saints come to meet you as you go forth from this life. And please , just let him rest.”

[maryannecrimsworth]

YES YES YES THANK YOU

Pairing: Tyler Galpin x Fem! Reader

Warnings: violence; mention of past trauma; fluff ending actually(I guess)

I'm here

GIF por yolantisr

Laurel Gates came back.

Laurel Gates wanted revenge.

Laurel Gates needed the Hyde.

Laurel Gates seized Tyler.

Tyler.

His name came to your mind as soon as you saw the students evacuating the school. No one asked anything: no one could question or disobey a siren, but you already knew. You knew what was happening. And you ran as fast as you could after him.

The monster — the Hyde — was three times as big as you, with wide eyes, long claws and sharp teeth that could rip anyone apart — that have already ripped someone apart. You saw when it slaughtered the homeless man in the ruin of an ancient pilgrim house.

You heard screams and saw flashes of light in the middle of the woods: you followed, driven only by fear and instinct. You saw the monster ripping the man's chest open — howling as if the violence gave it pleasure, and then you saw Tyler. Painting, sobbing, trembling in the dark, covered in blood.

You were only a few feets away from him: you were frozen in the shadows, watching its attacks, controlling your breathing so you wouldn’t become a victim too. But your feet moved once you recognized the figure crawling in the woods, in complete despair, looking around: terrified at what he had done. The branches cracked under your steps, but Tyler didn't hear you. His eyes were on the bleeding, dead man in front of him, and his own heartbeat made him deaf. The blood was spreading all over the broken floor, almost reaching his toes.

You did not think. You grabbed his shoulder and pulled him back, out of the abandoned house, far away from the man he had just killed. You were not afraid — you were disgusted. And you didn't have the stomach to see Tyler walking on blood.

"What I—" He painted, his eyes still on the dead figure at distance. "What happened?"

"Fuck off, Galpin." You turned him around, forcing him to look at you. "I'm taking you to the police."

"What have I done?" There were tears in his eyes. "Who did I hurt?"

He was trembling, shivering under your hands. Guilty, vulnerable, confused. Like he had no idea.

He had no idea.

"Honey!" You heard a sweet voice coming from the dark. Tyler's eyes widened right away. "Where are you, honey? Mama's here."

You stepped back. The voice felt familiar but the fear you felt was completely new. Your stomach churned as every fiber of your being felt about to snap: he wasn't alone, you weren't alone. You were now a witness to what he had done.

And witnesses were always killed.

"Don't let her get me." He whispered suddenly, grabbing your wrist. His skin was wet and warm, soaked in blood. "Please."

Please.

Would a monster say "please"?

Would a monster need help to escape?

You did not think — again.

You simply held his hand and ran.

And now you are running again. Not from Tyler’s master, but to him — to the Hyde. To Tyler.

To calm him down, to prevent him from hurting someone — to prevent him from hurting himself.

The look he had on his face that night — when he understood why you were looking at him like that, when he realized what he had done, it was wretched. Desolate. And you knew what he was thinking — what he was planning to do after you covered him with your coat. You've seen that look before: the one who seeks for a closure of the unbearable pain — and you wouldn’t let him. You would not let him do it, you would help him through this — you promised him.

It was the only way to stop his crying, and the only option you had. Again, you did not think — you did it You had to. Just like now, when he was in front of you.

Dozens of branches and leaves flew through the air as the monster was being crushed: the werewolf jumped over him, its claws ripping its face. They were fighting: Tyler and Enid. Only God knows why and for how long: you could smell the blood and feel the chunks of trees under your feet — all caused by them.

Then the Hyde kicked the she-wolf away. He fought and jumped back, retreating as Enid's growls got louder. Tyler was bleeding, far more wounded than the werewolf, and Enid wasn't showing any sign that she's going to back off. Not until the danger is gone.

Not until Hyde stopped.

You knew what to do — in an impulse, you sprinted towards the two beasts, standing between recklessly them, their claws stopping inches from your body. Enid winched when she recognized you, but you did not see the way her ears dropped and her teeth stopped showing; your eyes were on Tyler. And his eyes were on you too.

"Hey, Big Guy." Your voice was low. Your hands waved in the air slowly, but you were not trembling. You were not afraid. "Focus on me, 'kay?" Branches broke behind you: Enid was stepping back as Hyde's claws were finally lowered. "I'm here." You whispered, your hands reaching the thick, unhuman skin. You felt a drop of blood trickle down to your hand. The Hyde started to tremble. "I'm here." You repeated, not looking away from the figure that was now transforming.

The scene was grotesque, violent, with his limbs snapping and blood covering his skin as Tyler came back to you. For you.

The Galpin boy fell to the ground, exhausted and hurted, without any strength. He was barely awake by the time you knelt and hugged him, doing the best you could to keep him up.

"Open your eyes." You cleaned his face with your sleeve, wiping his eyes as deep cuts covered his features. "Look at me."

"Y/N…" He grunted, pain fulfilling his voice. "Y/N, you…"

"Tell me what you remember."

"Laurel's gone." He choked, a hard cough breaking out his lungs, shaking his whole body. You held him tighter and waited for him to regain his breath. While remaining in silence, you noticed: you were trembling too, and tears were about to fall from your eyes. Part of you was afraid of his next words. Part of your heart was aching due to him. "She's gone, after Wednesday." He stopped and took a deep breath. "There's a boat."

You moved back instantly — you couldn't help it. You fell backwards, staying by his side as he tried to sit up. Your hands were now sunk into the soil, so as your feet, but he went on:

"It's our chance."

"It's our chance." You repeated with a gasp.

Tyler smiled when he noticed the look in your eyes. The same look you had when he sat with you at the Weathervane; the same look you had when he gave you one of his home-made cookies; the look you had when his dog welcomed you every time you arrived at his house — the look you gave him when you first got into his room. You mocked him about how messy and boyish it was, so "normie" for him. The look you gave him when he transformed back, aching, covered in blood, sobbing, and when you argued so hard when he cried, saying he wasn't an monster. Not to you.

He would never be a mosnter to you, as long as you looked at him like this. This wasn't a look of love — like Laurel's — it was serene and gleamed, brave and fond. Intense, yet soft.

It was something he had never had — he had never seen in anyone but you.

And it helped him to breathe everytime — it helped him to try again. To live one more day.

And now Tyler could live one more day — countless more days — with you. Only you and that doting look of yours.

You held his hand firmly and helped him to stand up.

"Let's go."

[samrut]

🌱 do you have any RusLiet?

[Lmao - yeah. It's whump, so read at your own risk.]

Tolys sat huddled in the dark, cold ramshackle shed. His finger tips were numb and blackened, damaged from the subzero temperature. He had been severely beaten and left shackled to the stone floor of the makeshift prison.

For a few hours a day, dim sunlight trickled in through the barred widow. Movements slow and labored, he crawled across the tiny room. The chain secured to his ankle was short and heavy.

He outstretched his quivering hands from the shadows, barely able to touch the light. In them, he held a broken glass bottle filled with soil. A small, leafy plant had begun to sprout.

Caring for the seedling was the only thing keeping his sanity intact. Tolys smiled, his blue, chapped lips cracked and bled. The majority of his face was hidden by overgrown, ash brown hair.

In a bleak voice, he spoke to his companion, "one day, we will bask in the sun together."

The sound of the padlock unlocking startled him. Quickly, Tolys retreated back to the corner to conceal the plant. With a screech from the rusted hinges, the wood door swung open and in walked the warden, Ivan Braginsky.

"Good afternoon, Tolys," said Ivan, in a sickeningly sweet voice. He held an oil lamp in one hand and a long steel pipe in the other.

Tolys said nothing and kept his head down.

Since there came no reply, Ivan lowered himself and held the lamp close to Tolys' face. The battered man was illuminated by the flickering flame. Using the pipe, his hair was parted revealing the bruised face underneath.

Bright, green eyes glared viciously at Braginsky. Tolys spat at him, but nothing came. His mouth was dry.

"Tsk," Ivan frowned and sighed, shaking his head in disappointment, "why must you force me to hurt you?"

"Fuck you," hissed Tolys, "you choose to follow orders."

With care, the lantern was hung on a hook from the ceiling. Braginsky peered down at Tolys with a darkened expression.

"Turn around, on all fours," demanded Ivan, gruffly.

The menacing pipe that was still stained with blood from previous beatings, slipped under Tolys chin and forced his gaze.

"It must hurt," said Ivan, saddened, "if you stop being disobedient, I will reward you. You are cold and hungry, yes?"

Tolys burst into laughter, "I do not want your sympathy."

Braginsky's brows knitted together, jaw clenched. He stood tall, resting the pipe over his shoulder. Without the support, Tolys' head drooped downwards.

"Get into position," said Ivan softly.

He did as told, limbs struggling to hold himself upright. The back of Tolys' shirt was in tatters. Under the fabric, the skin was covered in lacerations.

The first few beatings were quick to heal, thanks to Tolys' being unhuman. However, his body was beginning to weaken. The wounds had ceased to heal completely, leaving deep scars.

After Braginsky administrated his punishment, Tolys was left unable to move. He had collapsed into the fetal position, bleeding from freshly inflicted injuries. Ivan rolled him over with the edge of his boot.

The movement made Tolys cry out in pain. A gently, bloodied hand grazed against his cheek.

"So stubborn," whispered Braginsky, "please, comply and I will take care of you."

Tolys' eyes fluttered open, "die," he said, voice faint.

Ivan sighed and took the lantern in his hand. The light caught a glimpse of the tiny seedling in the corner, "what is this?" he asked.

He picked up the broken bottle and held it up for inspection. Tolys reached out and limply grabbed Ivan's pant leg, "don't take it," he rasped.

"I must," responded Ivan, "I was given strict order that you must be deprived of all, til you are compliant."

The plant was pulled from the soil and crushed in his fist. Tolys' watched in horror as it was dropped and promptly stomped into the ground. Braginsky shook himself free with little effort.

As he left, Ivan looked back over his shoulder. Tolys gathered what remaind of the seedling and mumbled quietly to himself. His inaudible words turned to muffled sobbing, as he burried his face and cried.

. . .

[☹️]

[biggestsimponhere]

Cuddling by the fire

https://pin.it/56N3CKT

about xavier pls

The weather outside is frightful but that fire is soooo delightful - Xavier Thorpe x reader, btw this is written after they graduate, they got a house together! Sorry this is kinda short but it’s late and I’m tired.

It was snowing out, it’s your favorite time of year. You sit by the window staring out at the snow. You’re just silently enjoying the snowfall when a warm blanket wraps around your shoulders. “Come on, sit with me please” He said kissing the top of your head. “I will sit with you in a minute baby” You said laughing. “That’s what you said five minutes ago” he said pouting. “I know, but I’m watching the snow” you said smiling up at him. “Honey, you can watch the snow perfectly fine from the couch near the warm fire” he said pulling your hands out from your chest. “If you get me hot chocolate, I’ll sit with you” you said pulling your hands back. “Done!” He said running into the kitchen.

He came back a few minutes later, sliding across the wood floors. “Careful! You don’t want to spill that” you said standing up to take it from him. He grabbed your arm and pulled you toward the couch. “I didn’t spill it, it’s completely fine, now lay with me” he said sitting on the couch. “Alright, alright” you said sitting next to him. “Not close enough, my love” he said reaching out to pull you into him. He didn’t pull you very hard but your hot chocolate almost spilled all over. “Xavier! Please be careful” you said putting the mug onto the coffee table. “I’m sorry, I just wanted you closer” he said pecking your forehead. You moved closer to him and snuggled into his side. “This close enough for you” you said raising an eyebrow at him.

“Nope” he said pulling you into his lap. You squealed as he attacked your neck with kisses. “It’s cold out” you said leaning into him. He tightened the blanket around you before tucking you into his chest. You could feel the fire slowly warming up your feet. Xavier pulled you as close as you could possibly get to him. The fire cracking and warming you both. “Look! The snow!” You said sounding a lot like a child on Christmas Day. The snow outside had started to flurry and spin around. He laughed and then looked out the window. “Are you warm enough yet?” Xavier asked tightening the blanket again. “Yes, I’m warm, this is perfect” you said leaning in to peck him on the lips.

“You’re perfect” he said smiling at you, before leaning in to kiss you again. Right before he could capture your lips with his the phone rang. You quickly stood up to answer it. “Hello?” You said into the phone. “Did you see the snow!” Enids voice came from the other end. “Who is it?” Xavier called from the couch. “Omg, yes I saw the snow!” You said back to Enid. “Nevermind, only one person would call you about the snow” Xavier said again. “Is Xavier there with you?” Enid asked laughing when she heard his voice. “Yes he is, is Wednesday with you?” You said. “Yes she is” Enid said, you could heard the smile in her voice as she spoke. “Come back to the couch please” you heard Xavier call.

“Okay Enid, Mr. Pouty pants is upset I’m not at the couch anymore,” you started to say before Xavier shouted again “Hey!”. “Anyways, I will call you tomorrow alright, I love you” you continued. “Oh that’s alright, Wednesday is starting to get annoyed too” She said laughing before continuing. “I love you too, talk to you tomorrow” she said before hanging up. “Can you come back now” Xavier said as you started walking back towards the living room. “Yes, I’m coming” you said sliding across the floor. As soon as he saw you he opened up his arms. You quickly crawled back into his lap and he put the blanket back around you. You sat snuggled into him, just watching the snow fall. Eventually you fell asleep snuggled into him.

He scooped you up, and carried you down the hall to your bedroom. He laid you down on your side of the bed and tucked you in. Then he moved to climb into his side. He wrapped his arms around you and pulled you into his chest. You snuggled in further, while pulling the covers up. He leaned down and kissed you on the forehead before whispering “goodnight, I love you” he then leaned over and switched off the lamp. You both drifted off to sleep, not a care in the world, snow and hot chocolate long forgotten.

[comfort-questing]

"hiding an illness"

If the little green-cloaked bard ever felt sad, or tired, or ill, none of the children of Mondstadt ever knew it when he played his songs for them in the high open square. If he was a little slower to climb out of his chair in the Angel's Share late in the evening under Charles's watchful eye, that would easily be attributed to the multiple glasses of dandelion wine he'd downed in the past hours. As for where he slept, or when, or for how long, this was a matter of uncertainty in any case, and any sniffles that the locals overheard from him were easily attributable to the wandering cats in the alleyways.

Kaeya did give him a few sideways glances, one night that autumn, as they sat side-by-side at the Angel's Share bar: "Looking a little ghostly, are we? Do you need an extra glass tonight?"

Venti only sighed a little, and rubbed one hand up along his flushed cheek; his eyes had dark tinges under them, and there was a slight tremor to the edges of his hand that made Kaeya blink and set down his own glass. Ghostly truly was the word for it, as if somehow his drinking mate's body was less real than the rest of the world around him, the dark wood of the bar stool momentarily half-visible beneath him as Kaeya blinked again.

Kaeya stopped at one Death After Noon that evening, and kept a closer eye on Venti than usual, but the bard bid him farewell for the night with the same insouciance as ever, and departed into the damp autumn dark.

It was the next morning, though, when the two children came looking for Barbara with a shoebox in their hands.

-

"I don't know if I know much how to help with one of these, dears," said Barbara, taken a little by surprise as she lifted the lid. The tiny wisp of a creature huddled into the folded sweater tucked around it, alight with Anemo power, its half-transparent body pulsing with a fitful gleam through the soft white wings surrounding it. "It does seem to be ill somehow, poor thing. Perhaps I'll talk to the Grand Master, Anemo being her specialty, after all."

"Please, we found it under the statue," said the little boy, round-eyed beneath the fringe of his hair. "We didn't know what to do with it."

"I'll do my best, of course. Poor little creature! May Barbatos bless it."

Jean didn't know either, and marveled at the tiny wisp; a breath of her Vision seemed to perk it up somewhat, the light strengthening briefly. Barbara's own Hydro only seemed to dampen it, setting it shivering more. But the wisp had the strength then to sip sugar water from a spoon, like a baby bird, and curl up in the folds of Barbara's dress, softer than feathers and almost intangible beneath her fingers. It reminded her of the Crystalflies that she had chased as a little girl, with the same glimmering glow and insubstantial form that tingled at her touch.

She couldn't carry it with her all day, of course, so she made a little nest for it not too far from the stove in the chantry study, an old choir robe bundled up which it crawled gratefully into. Choir practice ran long and there was dinner to get after, and an old man ill in the cottages near Springvale.

So it wasn't until the border between afternoon and evening that she returned down the Cathedral stairs at last, to check on her little patient. The sound of what seemed to be a very human cough beyond the shut door froze her in sudden startlement, as she reached for the handle.

"Hello?" she called, her free hand going to her Vision nervously.

Another cough, and then a weak and familiar voice answering, "Ah, Deaconess, I hope I don't intrude - "

-

It was Barbara's first impulse to ask why Venti the bard was asleep on the chairs in the choir closet, but as soon as she got a good look at him the whys and wherefores dropped completely out of her mind. His usual shiny hair was disarranged and tousled, braids loose and dull; his cheeks were fever-flushed and lips cracked with dryness; and the slight rattle of his breaths echoed loud in the silence, shoulders heaving a little as he curled into himself.

"Mr. Venti!" Barbara summoned the bright mist of her Vision up around her, as she bent over the bard and slipped an arm under his shoulders. "If you'd gone to talk with them upstairs, they'd have summoned me, and you wouldn't have had to wait here. Come with me to the infirmary right away - you're in a dreadful state."

"I - only need - a moment, I think, and then - " Venti became an abruptly limp weight on her shoulder as he bent into another coughing fit, although a strangely lighter weight than she would have expected.

"Now, I'm not going to let you get away while you're looking like this. It would be a horrible breach of responsibility."

Venti didn't answer, perhaps lacking the strength for it, but he did smile a little, an odd green light from his Vision seeming to reflect in his eyes as he did so.

He stayed silent for a long time, worrisomely pliant as Barbara and Sister Victoria worked together to tuck him into a cot in the infirmary. A warmed brick from the stove and several blankets quelled his shivering at last, though the rough crackle of his breathing had not started to ease yet despite Barbara's healing Hydro and the hot compress Sister Victoria had put on his chest. The green cloak trailed sadly onto the floor from the back of the chair Barbara had hung it over, the feathers in Venti's cap on the chair seat a little crushed and askew.

A bad case of lung-fever, it seemed, exacerbated by not taking care of himself. That wasn't uncommon this season of the year, with colds and fevers running rampant. But to wait until he felt this poorly... Barbara shook her head, reaching out one hand and sending another bright mist of Hydro to circle the head of the cot. How small he looked, propped up on the pillows; almost ghostly, as if the color was ebbing out of him. She almost fancied that if she touched him her hand would go straight through him like a cloud.

No matter. When he was well enough again to hear a lecture she was sure she'd give him one, poor scatterbrained bard. You did not play around with this kind of thing.

-

The wisp wasn't in the choir closet at all, to Barbara's bafflement as she returned later that night. She hoped it hadn't crawled away to die, poor little thing - did Anemo wisps die, or just return to the winds again? Perhaps that had been what became of it; perhaps it had been lonely, and needed to return to its friends. She paused, hands wrapped in the spare choir robe she'd bundled the wisp up in.

If the children asked her, she decided then, that was what she would tell them: that it had returned to the winds, and Barbatos would take care of it.

Then she shook out the robe and folded it again, until it was next needed, and returned to the infirmary and her current patient.

[fanfictwins]

SDR2 - Halloween Special 2023

Summary: “As the victim of an honestly moronic prank, you end up somewhere you’d rather not be. Your fear and annoyance keep you chugging along, but, man… you just want to go home.”

Word Count: ~12k

“Ugh, this is just the worst…”

The tapping of your shoes against the tiled floor echoed as you walked through the halls of the abandoned school building, your only source of light being your phone’s flashlight; the beam of light shook with each step you took, illuminating everything ahead of you — the cracked tiles of the floor, the peeling paint on the walls, the dust floating in the air. None of it was an ideal sight.

The thought of being stuck here, in a supposedly-haunted, crumbling old building, would have terrified you if you weren’t already annoyed by how you got into this situation in the first place.

It was more than obvious to you at this point that those so-called new “friends” of yours were anything but friendly, getting you to come here just to trap you inside because it was “funny”.

“I swear, when I get my hands on them-”

The sound of skittering behind you made you tense up, your mouth snapping shut as you swiftly turned on your heel with your phone pointed out to try to catch the source in the light. You felt an intense shiver run down your spine at the idea that rats were crawling around this place, an idea made worse when you thought about what else could be residing in such a dilapidated building.

“...okay, I need to get out of here soon or I’m going to lose it.”

You quickened your pace as you continued to make your way through the halls, checking each and every classroom you passed by in case any had a viable exit, but it appeared that all of the windows — all broken to various degrees of severity — had been boarded up. You had a pretty strong feeling that you would end up with a myriad of splinters and cuts across your body if you tried escaping through them, the rotting wood and jagged glass the opposite of an inviting exit.

Even if you were desperate to get out, you weren’t that desperate… yet.

- - - - -

You wandered around for a short while before you found yourself at the end of a hallway, where you were met with a large entryway with a sign stating that it led to the dorm area right next to it.

“Oh… so this school was one of those schools, huh? …fancy.”

You figured that there was a pretty good chance of there being some sort of fire escape within the dorm area, the image of whatever board of education that used to run the place wanting to make sure their students — the children of a bunch of rich and influential families, no doubt — were completely safe in every way possible floating around in your head, and you entered into the area with little hesitation. The sight that you were met with was nothing much, the edges of the beam from your phone’s flashlight soon trailing off into complete darkness, though the faint outlines of a few doorways located in your immediate surroundings didn’t escape your notice.

And then a sudden scent in the air caught your attention.

“What the…?”

The scent clashed heavily with where you were, being so warm and rich that it reminded you of what it felt like to settle down at the kitchen table for dinner as a child while the building that you were in was both dusty and musty to the point that just being in here was a health concern. Your initial confusion over the scent of cooked food soon melted into unease after a few seconds had passed, the presence of such deliciousness in a place this dank somehow being very unsettling.

But maybe the scent was wafting into the school through an opening somewhere.

That made it worth checking out.

You followed the trail with your nose, giving the air a few good sniffs as you veered to the right within the darkness of the dorm area, until you caught sight of light coming through the crack at the bottom of a door. You lowered your phone, turning off its flashlight, as you hurried through the door, and then came to a halt when you recognized the room as must being the dining hall.

There were tables and chairs placed about the area, a kitchen entrance on the other side from you, but the main attraction had to be the makings of a full spread that covered half of a table in the middle of the dining hall; that was obviously the source of the mouthwatering scent in the air.

“...yeah, okay, this is weird.”

You furrowed your eyebrows at the sight before you, before moving your attention to the source of light in the dining hall: large windows in place of one of the walls. Unlike all the other windows you had seen so far, the dining hall’s windows seemed to be mostly intact with just a few visible cracks here and there; that meant that you couldn’t use them to escape unless you took a chair and used it to smash through them, but that was a course of action you were hesitant to take.

You were hesitant… even if the sight of the sun setting past the horizon outside, the sky above becoming a stunning gradient of orange and red at the bottom to purple and blue at the top, was taunting you as you continued to be cut off from the glorious outdoors you now bore witness to.

Hesitant.

Yeah.

You let out a long hum of disappointment as you shifted your gaze away from the windows, now instead returning to look at the trays of food sitting in the middle of the dining hall, which were as much of a feast for the eyes as they were for the nose. You swallowed as you felt yourself begin to salivate a little as your eyes scanned over the various dishes present, though you knew better than to try sneaking a bite or two from the spread. You would probably end up turning into a pig or something if you did, and you were not taking that risk, no matter how tempting the food was.

The floor then came into view when a huge figure darted past you, its force knocking you to the ground. You let out a small groan as you pushed yourself up onto your knees, before looking to where the figure had run and came to a stop, which was in front of the table with the feast on it.

And you froze.

The figure was tall with a feminine body shape — for a couple of obvious reasons — but it was the several nonhuman characteristics you noticed as your eyes scanned over her that was what drew your attention: furry ears sitting atop her head of unkempt hair, claw-like hands attached to furry forearms, and a tall that relentlessly wagged behind her as she tore into a cooked chicken.

Despite having barreled past you to get into the dining hall, the canine-esque girl didn’t seem to notice you at all, being too busy devouring whatever she could get her paws on; various sauces and juices splattered down onto the table and the ground around her, some even dribbling down her chin and onto her clothes. The way she ate was more akin to a wild animal than to a person.

“A-Ah, Akane!”

The sound of a voice that had a thick Southern accent spoke from elsewhere in the dining hall, the mild panic within it unable to draw your gaze to its owner as you watched the girl — Akane, as the voice called her — down an entire party-sized platter of assorted meats and cheeses.

“I appreciate the enthusiasm about my cooking, but please leave some for the others!”

Akane stuffed a few more bites of food into her mouth before she spoke, her voice coming out completely muffled from how full her cheeks were. “Can’t you just make more if they want any?”

“I mean, I could-” The sound of metal trays being placed onto a table reached your ears as the voice paused for just the briefest moment before continuing. “-but you should still limit yourself.”

You finally managed to get back onto your feet after your shock faded slightly, though your heart was still beating a bit faster than you would have liked for it to, and you leaned on a nearby table to steady yourself before you directed your attention towards the source of the Southern voice.

He didn’t look nearly as threatening as Akane did — the fact that he was much shorter than her being a big reason as to why — though the sight of a pair of goat legs being where human legs should have been made your stomach churn. His attire consisted of a classic chef’s outfit on his human upper-half, with a red apron around his waist and a red handkerchief around his neck; to finish his ensemble, he had a tiny chef’s hat on his head with two horns poking out from his hair.

“Hey, you gonna eat that?”

You jolted out of your thoughts as Akane spoke again, and flinched after you looked over at her just to see her staring at you, the red sauce dripping down her chin making the sight of her look a lot worse than it actually was. You blinked before you looked down at the table you were using to keep your balance, your eyes drawn to the steaming plate of kebabs sitting right next to you.

“U-Uh… no…?”

“So I can have ‘em?”

You stared at Akane for a moment before you nodded your head, removing your shaking hands from the table and instead keeping them close to your chest. The wide grin that Akane gave you in response only made you more nervous as you saw the sharp canines she had in her mouth.

“Aw, nice!”

The kebabs never stood a chance as the canine-esque girl immediately made a beeline for the plate, everything but the iron skewers — which Akane tossed to the side — disappearing in the time that it took you to blink. She then resumed eating as if that entire interaction didn’t happen.

“Hmm? Who might you be?”

Your attention was grabbed by the half-goat man as he spoke, and you flinched again after you turned your head towards him just to see that he was now standing next to you. He was leaning forward as if to inspect you, one of his hands raised to his chin as the other rested on his hip; he let his eyes briefly wander you up and down, before they came to their final stop on your face.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you around before…”

“I-I, um… I’m… nobody important?” You struggled to turn your lips up into a smile, your nerves still a bit shot as you took a shaky step back away from the chef. “Uh, I’m just… well… I-I, it’s…”

The chef let out a small chuckle, a smile coming to his face as he dropped his hand from his chin. “Now, now… no need to get nervous. It’s always exciting to meet new people, you know?”

His voice had an almost comforting quality to it as he spoke, though the fact that his Southern accent disappeared and was replaced with an accent that sounded a bit more posh made alarm bells ring out in your head. You couldn’t think of a single normal reason for a person to do that in a normal conversation, especially after he talked to Akane without doing anything like that at all.

“How about you relax with some of my delectable cooking? You won’t taste anything better!”

You shifted your gaze from the chef and towards the feast, seeing Akane still going ham with it as she devoured an actual cooked ham like it was nothing, before you looked at the chef again.

“...y-yeah, sorry, I’ll have to decline. I’d rather not get between that girl and her food.”

The chef looked over at Akane himself, his smile faltering as he furrowed his eyebrows and let out a small sigh; it only lasted for a moment, however, before his attention returned to you and a smile reappeared on his face. “Oh, don’t worry! I’ll just make an extra-special dish just for you.”

The way he said that made shivers run down your spine, and not in a good way.

“Nope. I’m leaving. Goodbye.”

Without waiting for a response, you turned on your heel and began to walk away, hearing the chef start to call out after you before you suddenly heard him yell at Akane about paying more attention to what she was putting in her mouth, the sound of gagging and silverware hitting the floor following after it. You just ignored the commotion and focused on leaving the dining hall.

- - - - -

The area outside the dining hall was no longer bathed in pitch-black darkness; the lighting that came from the ceiling was dim, but it was enough for you to actually see where you were going.

“Huh… I didn’t think that this place still had power, but…”

It was definitely the least surprising thing you had run into so far, though you chose not to focus too much on what you had witnessed just moments before as you looked around the small area, squinting your eyes to try to get a better look at everything. You decided to start moving towards the dorm rooms, the thought of a fire escape coming back to your mind to fuel your every step.

You passed by a set of stairs — finding an escape on any floor but the first floor was only an “if there’s no other choice” option, so you didn’t have to resort to that yet — before you entered into a hallway with multiple doors on both sides; these were the rooms the students had stayed in.

The doorknob of the first door you approached rattled in your hand as you tried to turn it.

Locked.

You had never felt more like a horror movie protagonist than you did then, only you didn’t have to worry about trying to fit keys into a lock with shaky hands as you went from door to door and simply wiggled the doorknob of each one just to find that they were locked like the first, until you eventually found one that wasn’t. The door hadn’t even been closed properly, being slightly ajar.

The lightest push was all that was needed to fully open the door, the creaking it made from the movement making you cringe as you stepped into the room… which was odder than expected.

You saw the expected items — a bed, dresser, and various personal items neatly placed about — that any dorm room would have, but even if the school catered to rich students, the fairy-tale theme was a little juvenile for a teenager’s bedroom. The bed had a canopy that let shimmering curtains flow down from it to shield the bed from sight when they were drawn, and vines covered the walls, intertwined with fairy lights to create a magical atmosphere; the color palette had been limited to vibrant greens and warm browns, but the walls were painted a light blue like the sky.

The entire thing made you feel as if you were in a children’s storybook rather than a school.

It took you only a moment to snap out of your surprise, the charming nature of the bedroom not enough to distract you for long from the windows located on a wall to your right, but keeping you from hurrying over to throw open the curtains and escape to freedom was the sound of a door opening to your right. The thought of another door being in the room aside from the one behind you caught you off guard, but the steam flowing in from the connected room connected the dots.

The school was clearly for the rich and influential, and personal bathrooms fit in with that image.

You could only silently stare as a figure exited the bathroom, her back to you, and even though that was all you could see, it was almost too easy for something within you to admit that she had an unusual beauty about her. The long blonde hair that flowed down her back, the fair skin free of even a single mark or tiny blemish… and the shimmering wings fluttering ever so slightly from where they sprouted out of her back; it was like you were looking at some kind of fairy princess.

The girl was brushing her hair, the dampness making it clear that she had been taking a shower along with the presence of the steam, and she hummed a tune happily to match the beats of her strokes with the hairbrush, ignorant to the intruder was standing just a few paces away from her.

That was until she turned around, a gasp leaving her mouth as soon as her eyes connected with yours, the hairbrush falling from her hand. You heard a small squeak escape your own lips when you stumbled back, your back hitting the dorm room’s door with a thud as your face warmed up.

“Ah, sorry-!”

“O-Oh my goodness! My apologies!”

Your voice overlapped with the girl’s voice as you and her spoke simultaneously, but while your words were filled with embarrassment at being caught in her dorm room and nervousness about her nonhuman appearance, the girl sounded a lot more concerned instead. You kept your gaze trained on her as you tried to navigate around the open door behind you, your legs a little shaky.

“M-My name is Sonia!” The girl tried to smile to ease your obvious unease, her hands carefully brought up to her chest with her palms facing towards her. “Could you please give me yours?”

Her eyes widened after that passed through her lips, and she raised a hand up to her mouth.

“W-Wait, please do not answer that!” Sonia took a step back, her smile faltering briefly until she recomposed herself. “I mean, could you please tell me a name of which I may address you by?”

You finally managed to break your eyes’ focus on Sonia and turned around, your mouth sealed shut as you bolted from the dorm room while ignoring the shouts coming from the fairy princess; the only thing on your mind was to get as far away from her as possible, something about giving her your name eliciting a deep sense of fear in some region of your being, and you just decided to abandon your plan to find an exit in the dorm area, your feet carrying you past the dining hall.

The sound of multiple unfamiliar voices coming from the dining hall — you shook a little at the thought of there being more strange creatures in the building — only fueled your pace as your feet pounded against the tiled floor. You just continued to run even as their voices got fainter.

You only hoped that no one would follow you.

- - - - -

You slowed down once you didn’t hear anyone coming after you, the once-creepy silence of the school now a relief; even though your eyes were starting to become used to the dim lighting that the building had, you still couldn’t see that far down the hallway, so the lack of footsteps heading in your direction was the best indicator that you were safe… or, at least, you were safe for now.

The thought of using your phone’s flashlight again to make navigation easier passed through your mind for a moment, and you reached down to grab it from your pocket, but instead of the glorious cellular metal slab full of electricity and the internet, your fingers only met with fabric.

“O-Oh… oh no, no no no, this can’t be happening…!”

Your voice came out as a low hiss as your heart sank, the fact that your phone was missing the scariest thing that had happened to you yet. You had no idea where you could have lost it, your phone having been in your hands the entire time… that was, up until Akane knocked you over.

“...it’s fine, everything’s fine; it’s just a phone, I can survive without it.”

You placed a hand against the wall to stabilize yourself before you started moving again, trying your best to push back the panic and keep your mind focused on the goal of escaping the place of horrors you were trapped in. You focused on minimizing the sound of your shoes against the floor, on keeping your breathing steady, and on trying to quell the jackhammer inside your chest.

And then you heard voices coming from down the hallway.

The sensation of your entire body tensing up to resemble a stone statue was not comfortable in the slightest, but you forced your body to take a few steps forward anyway. When you were just a few steps away from the corner, you leaned forward to take a peek at the source of the voices.

“I just thought…”

There was one girl and two guys walking down the hallway in your direction, the girl’s face being visible due to the light from the attachment on the video game handheld she held as she spoke.

“...a video game tournament with the class could be fun.”

“That sounds great!” The guy on the girl’s left smiled at her, the dim lighting making it hard to make out anything specific about his appearance, though his silhouette seemed normal. “But the outcome seems a bit obvious if you’re playing. No one here’s as good at them as you are.”

The girl only let out a small hum in response, his gaze cast down at her handheld.

You squinted as you continued to look at the three figures — they appeared to be around your age, but you couldn’t be completely sure yet given everything you had seen so far — and after you had done so for a brief moment, you had to admit that there didn’t seem to be anything that was nonhuman about them; that normally would have been reassuring, but the three were still lurking about an old abandoned school building in the dark of night, which wasn’t normal to do…

…and while you were also doing that, the difference was that you didn’t want to be here.

“Oh?”

The guy on the girl’s right caught the attention of the other two, the both of them following his gaze to see you peeking from around the corner at them, your body freezing at the attention.

It felt as if the world stopped for a moment, the three of them staring at you as you stared back at them. Your chest felt empty, your heart devoid of beats and your lungs devoid of air — maybe they really were as frozen as the rest of your body, your head feeling light to a sickening degree.

“Ah, hello?”

It was the girl who broke the silence first, movement slowly returning to the world as she tilted her head; the light attached to her handheld revealed the pale mauve color of the hair framing her face, and reflected off of the small Galaga pin clipped to a lock of it. Her face remained the main point of focus to you, her dark hoodie blending into the dimly-lit hallway with minimal effort.

The second thing to break the silence was a weak cry that escaped your throat as you shrunk behind the wall, only the top half of your head still visible to the three as you still stared at them.

The girl furrowed her eyebrows, concern on her face. “W-Wait, there’s no need to be scared…!”

“Huh? Are they a new student?” The appearance of the guy on her left became more defined as distress sharpened your senses, your suspicions of him seeming normal confirmed; while it was a bit rude to admit, he had a pretty unremarkable face, and even his outfit of a simple white shirt with a nice tie and dark pants was extremely basic at its very best. “I don’t recognize them…”

The girl shook her head after a moment. “We would’ve been told about a new student…”

You shrunk back a little further as the girl took a slow and careful step forward, leaning forward to get a better look at you. The way she held herself was very calm, not a hint of hostility seen in her body language or on her face, with even her gaze softer than expected when it met yours.

“Hey… my name’s Chiaki. Do you need help?”

Her voice was very soft as she spoke, her tone sounding too genuine for it to be part of some ruse to get you to lower your guard; she was even avoiding getting too close for comfort to you.

“That… that depends.” You peeked your head out a bit more around the corner, returning to how you had originally been before you shrunk back in fear. Your gaze flickered over to the two guys, before you refocused it on Chiaki again. “This might sound a bit strange, but… are you human?”

Chiaki paused as she blinked, and the three shared a glance with each other, the silence shared between them holding some sort of unspoken conversation. They then resumed looking at you.

“Uh, y-yeah…?” The guy with the unremarkable face spoke up, his lips pulled up into a smile that didn’t look entirely convinced of what came out of his own mouth. “We’re… we’re human…”

Despite how hesitant he was with his words, you felt a little calmer than before at the knowledge that there was a fellow human nearby, and you stepped out a bit more from behind the corner; a shaky smile made its way onto your own lips as well, the first step to confidence. “Ah, really…?”

The guy on Chiaki’s right caught your attention as he raised a hand slightly, and you were taken aback by how sickly he looked now that you could see him better; the unusually-fluffy hair on his head was a strange off-white color, and his skin looked too pale to be healthy. He almost looked like someone that should be on strict bed rest rather than hanging around a filthy place like this.

“I think the better question would be… are you human?”

And you suddenly felt not so calm anymore. “W-What?”

“Ugh, Nagito…” The other guy looked at Nagito as he narrowed his eyes into a glare, his lips now turned down into a frown that had clear annoyance written all over it. “That’s not helping.”

“Oh, I just think it’s rather important to know.” Nagito had a slight smile on his face, his posture relaxed despite the obvious tension now present in the air. “Because I’m sure we’ve all figured out what’s going on here, and it’s best to not keep anything hidden in the dark, right, Hajime?”

Chiaki ignored Hajime and Nagito as she kept her gaze trained on you, a soft smile coming to her face as she held a hand to her chest. The light attachment on her handheld was no longer casting light on her face as she held the device by her side, and due to how dim the lighting in the hallway was, you had difficulty deciding if the light blush dusting her cheeks was real or not.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay.” She extended a hand for you to take. “Let’s get you out of here.”

You blinked a few times, staring at Chiaki as surprise washed over you, and that was when you felt your nerves finally starting to settle; even if everything else within this old abandoned school building was making you freak out, the girl in front of you seemed to be a real light in the dark as she provided you respite from all the craziness you had witnessed. You hesitated for a couple of seconds more before deciding to go for it as you reached out your hand towards Chiaki’s hand.

The moment you were just an inch away from her, you felt a spark shoot from her to you.

It almost felt like static electricity.

“I-I saw them go this way!”

You flinched at the sound of a familiar voice echoing through the halls, retracting your hand towards your body and wincing slightly at the sight of Chiaki dropping her smile from shock.

“Don’t worry, Miss Sonia! I’ll catch them!”

“Hmph, as if a mere calcium crusader could catch the culprit that the lady saw! Go, my Four Dark Devas of Destruction, and find the intruder that has dared to roam these accursed halls!”

It took less than a second for your body to start moving again, your footsteps pounding against the tiled floor as you darted past the trio of maybe-humans; your mind felt blank aside from fear as you ran, hardly able to make out Chiaki’s words as she called out to you, her voice becoming mixed with various other voices that sprouted up somewhere behind you — you almost felt as if you were an animal, acting without thinking at the first sign of possible danger presented to you.

You just hoped that Chiaki wouldn’t think of you as rude because of this.

- - - - -

You hunched over where you stood, grasping at the wall and gasping for air as you felt your heart pound in your chest; you could still hear voices echoing in the hallways, the sound only helping to keep your heart rate elevated as you tried to figure out where exactly you were.

“Ugh… I-I think I ran past the entrance hall…”

You let out a small groan as your eyes scanned over your surroundings, the corridor completely unfamiliar to you. There was a staircase a few feet from where you stood, but you weren’t dumb enough to ascend it and get trapped on a higher floor where your only option of escape would require jumping out a window; even from just the second floor, you would have to hope that you could stick a safe landing in your panic-filled state. That left a door next to where you stopped.

There was a sign sticking out from the wall above it, but you couldn’t focus enough to read it.

“The others should be in the dining hall by now, young master.”

“Hey, I thought I told you not to call me that…? I cut your strings for a reason, ya know?”

You tensed up at the sound of a pair of voices coming from the staircase, footsteps starting to descend accompanying them, and your thoughts turned to finding a place to hide as you turned on your heel towards the closed door next to you, flinging it open as you attempted to run inside.

But you only took a few steps before crashing into something and getting knocked backwards.

You placed a hand on your head, rubbing it as you blinked a couple of times and looked at the sight in front of you; in the dim lighting, you were able to make out a girl wearing clothing similar to what a nurse would wear — or maybe it actually was a nurse’s uniform, you didn’t really know — who had also been knocked back onto her behind, a small whimper soon escaping her lips.

“A-Ah, I’m so sorry!” You pushed yourself up onto your feet, crouching down to keep yourself on the same level as the girl. “I-I didn’t mean to knock you down, honest! Are you alright? Hurt?”

You were, unsurprisingly, unable to make out much in the dim lighting, but from what you could tell, the girl was relatively unharmed. You did notice bandages wrapped around a couple of her limbs, but given that they were already there and the girl seemingly had no time to patch herself up after running into you, you assumed that they must be from previous injuries she had gotten.

You crawled a bit closer to the girl as she continued to tear up, stopping only when your hand touched something other than the cold tiled floor. The girl’s cold fingers twitched at your touch as you gently took a hold of her hand, the girl herself quieting down too as she looked at you.

You stood up, your grip firm on the girl’s hand. “H-Here! Let me help you up-”

The weight you pulled up in your hand was surprisingly light, and you looked down at your hand to see the girl’s hand still clinging to yours… and you saw only her hand, with part of her forearm attached to it. Its grip was weak, just barely seeming to hold on without falling to the floor below.

“W-What…?”

You slowly let your gaze fall from the hand you held and down towards the girl still sitting on the floor, your eyes immediately going to focus on her arm that was closest to where you had picked up the hand from to see that she was, indeed, missing an entire hand and part of her forearm.

That of which you were currently holding.

It moved slightly in your grasp, the fingers attempting to tighten around yours, before your own grip loosened completely and the hand fell to the floor. Your knees shook before giving out, your eyelids drooping to partly consume your vision with blurry darkness as you lost your balance.

The last thing you heard was a nervous voice shouting before it all went black.

- - - - -

“Wow, humans are even uglier up close!”

“Hiyoko, don’t say that!”

“What? It’s true!”

You let out a groan, shifting your aching body before noticing that you were laying on something soft, the plush surface under your head feeling like a pillow. Your fingers twitched for a moment before grasping at the thin sheets under you, and your mind finally realized that you must be on a bed right now. That didn’t really explain why you could smell food from the dining hall, though.

“Ah, they’re waking up!”

You opened your eyes and blinked a few times, your vision clearing up before you squinted at the fluorescent light that filled the room; this was the best lighting you had seen so far within this abandoned school building. You rolled your head over to see two figures standing at the side of the bed, and your body immediately reacted by making you sit up and push yourself away from them, but you snapped out of it when you almost fell off the other side of the bed, only managing to barely catch yourself. You glanced around at your surroundings, realizing that you were in the nurse’s office, before you refocused your attention on the two unfamiliar figures, still a bit tense.

The first was a girl with red hair — actually, they looked more like petals that wrapped around her head from the top to form a bob — and skin that had an odd green tint to it that made you feel a bit squeamish. The only other thing attention-grabbing about her was the camera hung over her shoulder, the device resting at her hip with her hands free and clasped in front of her.

The second was a smaller girl — who looked much younger than anyone else you had seen so far — dressed in a traditional kimono; however, ruining the otherwise innocent appearance that she had were the horns sprouting out from her head, the bat-like wings flapping from where they stuck out slightly below her shoulders, and the scorpion-like tail swaying side-to-side behind her.

You froze when the small girl grinned at you, her grin filled with unbelievably sharp teeth.

“H-Hey, you don’t need to be scared…” The redhead smiled at you when you shifted your gaze over to her, her smile much less threatening than the small girl’s grin, even though it seemed to be unsure at the moment. “I’m Mahiru, okay? Everything’s fine, and no one’s going to hurt you.”

“Says who?”

Mahiru looked at the small girl next to her, her smile shifting to a stern frown. “Hiyoko-!”

“E-Excuse me…” The sound of a soft voice cut off Mahiru before she could say anything else, and you looked over at the source, seeing the girl you had bumped into earlier standing a little ways away from the bed you were sitting on. You raised your eyebrows in surprise to see that you had guessed correctly that she was donning a nurse’s uniform, before you noticed that her posture appeared very timid; she was slouching, shrinking in on herself as if to make herself seem as small as possible. “I-If you don’t mind, I need to check to make sure you’re okay…”

Not a single sound escaped you as you stared at her, the girl staring right back at you.

The presence of a proper light source above you allowed you to now notice the varied colors of her skin, all being varying shades of pale green, with stitches connecting the patches that made up her body. You even noticed how her limbs were attached to her body with thin strings as well, meaning that, due to your sudden collision with her, her arm had completely detached from her-

The girl widened her eyes in panic. “Wha-?! I-I’m sorry! Did I do something wrong…?!”

You took a deep breath, your vision blurring slightly as tears pricked at your eyes, and your hands tightly gripping the sheets of the bed you were sitting on, your fingers digging into them.

“No, no, Mikan! You didn’t do anything wrong!” Mahiru looked at the nurse, her lips pulling up into a rather successful reassuring smile. “They’re just scared! It’s okay, this is totally normal!”

The sight of the zombified nurse almost breaking down into tears did help to calm your nerves the slightest bit, undeniable humanity within her action that broke through the dread pooling in the pit in your stomach. You attempted to relax your grip on the sheets beneath you as Mikan wiped at her face with her hands, and you did the same to your own face after a few moments.

“I’m s-sorry! I didn’t mean to-”

“N-No, I’m sorry! I shouldn’t have s-scared you…!”

“Oh, god, there’s two of them now.” The small demon girl — Hiyoko, as Mahiru said — rolled her eyes, her lips pursed in annoyance. “I don’t know if I can handle having two crybabies around…”

“See? Everything is fine!” Mahiru ignored Hiyoko as she kept her focus on you and Mikan, her reassuring smile still present on her face. “There’s nothing to be scared of, or to worry about.”

You sniffed, taking a few breaths to calm down before you focused your gaze on Mikan. “S-So… um… you said that you needed to check to… make sure that I’m okay, or… or something…?”

“Y-Yeah!” Mikan nodded, her voice determined despite the stuttering. “I-If you’ll let me…”

You flinched when Mikan drew closer to you, though you still tried to stay as still as possible as you let the nurse check you over for injuries; her touch was ice cold — if her appearance wasn’t enough to tell you that she wasn’t alive, her lack of body warmth was — and you shuddered as you tried to repress the urge to gag at the thought that an undead body was touching your own.

You tried to focus on something else, anything else, to distract your mind and stomach during the inspection, only to find your eyes drawn towards the stitches that littered Mikan’s body. The main thing to draw your attention to them was how they looked unusually loose, the strings that kept her limbs attached to her body specifically appearing to lack the tension needed to keep them from detaching like they did earlier, and it was a little odd that she hadn’t tightened them.

“E-Everything looks fine…” Mikan removed her hands from your body, clasping them together under her chin. “I-I don’t think that you’ll have any lasting injuries from w-what happened…”

“Great!” Mahiru looked at you with a gentle smile. “That means you can come with us!”

You blinked in surprise. “...huh?”

“Yeah… Mr. Fool’s Gold says that we’ve gotta have a meeting!” Hiyoko too had a smile on her face, though hers was a lot more unnerving than Mahiru’s as she smiled wide, letting you get another look at all of the sharp teeth she had in her mouth. “And you’re the guest of honor!”

- - - - -

You looked down at the plate of food that was now in your hands as you left the nurse’s office with Mahiru and Hiyoko, the food being the culprit for why the nurse’s office had smelled like the dining hall — apparently a “Teruteru” had dropped it off for you while you were unconscious after hearing that you fainted, but while it was a kind thing to do, you weren’t very hungry right now.

“Alright, we’ll escort you to the dining hall.” Mahiru was a couple of steps in front of you, looking back over her shoulder at you with the calm and friendly smile that you had come to appreciate greatly from her still present on her face. “It’s where our class always holds our meetings.”

The reason why you appreciated the plant-esque girl’s smile so much was that it was nothing like Hiyoko’s smile, which was always filled with either disgust or malicious intent; you had only known her for about ten minutes or so, so you were baffled as to why she was so mean to you.

The small demon girl raised her hands into the air happily. “Yep, it’s time for you to die!”

“What?!”

“No, that’s not what’s going to happen!” Mahiru put her hands on her hips, leaning slightly towards Hiyoko with her eyes narrowed into a soft glare. “Don’t joke about things like that, Hiyoko. It’s not funny, and we really don’t need them passing out again like they did earlier.”

Hiyoko looked to the side, her lips forming a small pout. “Aw, but that’s no fun…”

Mahiru glared at Hiyoko for a few moments more before she let her lips turn up into a smile again and straightened her posture. “Now, with all of that out of the way, let’s get to the-”

You blinked as Mahiru cut herself off, before you suddenly became very aware of a presence behind you, a shadow being cast over your shoulders even with the dim lighting in the hallway; the lack of fear on Mahiru’s and Hiyoko’s faces was reassuring, only slight surprise within their expressions, and you hesitated for just a moment before turning around to see a familiar face.

There was a hungry grin on Akane’s face as she looked down at you — or, more precisely, the plate you were carrying. You felt your body tense up at the sight, the way the canine-esque girl was towering over you making her expression seem more menacing than it actually was, but when you caught sight of her tail wagging excitedly behind her, you almost felt the urge to smile.

You held the plate out to Akane, your hands shaking just a little, and watched her grin grow as her tail wagged even faster. You felt the plate be hastily torn from your grasp before it clattered on the floor, the food completely gone; not a single morsel or crumb was to be found anywhere.

“Aw, thanks! I was starving!”

“We ate half-an-hour ago-” Hiyoko pointed accusingly towards Akane. “-you overgrown fleabag!”

“Oh, really? Huh, it felt longer than that…” Akane flashed a grin at you and the two girls, the sight of her canines a lot less scary to you now. “Well, training makes me hungry, you know?”

“AKANE! Your speed is admirable, but you shouldn’t run away from your training!”

The ground shook as a figure arrived around the corner in the hallway, both tall in height and wide in length; the silhouette of the new arrival was rigid and jagged, the dull gray of his stone body becoming more obvious to you as he drew nearer to you and the three girls around you.

“Sorry, Coach Nekomaru!” Akane continued to grin as she turned to face the stone man, her demeanor casual without a single care in the world, though her tail was still wagging slightly as if she was an excited puppy. “My nose caught wind of good food and I couldn’t control myself.”

“A healthy appetite is a good sign…” Nekomaru looked down at Akane with a frown etched onto his stone face, his facial features all being very sharp and serious. “...but that’s NO EXCUSE!”

“Hey, that’s enough yelling…!” Mahiru raised her voice as she put her hands on her hips, her lips pulled down into an annoyed frown. “You might scare our… er… guest? …yeah, guest! You shouldn’t yell inside anyway. Now, since they’re awake, we all need to head to the dining hall.”

“Gah-hahahaha! Okay!” Nekomaru shifted his attention back over to Akane, the jagged stone features of his face turning up into an excited grin; it was both unnerving yet fascinating to see stone more so fluidly, appearing both uncanny yet natural at the same time. “Akane, we’ll use this as a part of your training! Go around the school and inform the others to head to the dining hall pronto. I expect you to finish and be in the dining hall yourself within the next ten minutes!”

Hiyoko piped up, an innocent-looking smile on her face that didn’t fit the patronizing tone that came out of her mouth. “Yeah, Akane! And if you manage to do that, we’ll give you a treat!”

“Treat?”

The werewolf let out an ecstatic howl before taking off, disappearing in the blink of an eye and leaving nothing but dust in her wake, which you accidentally breathed in and had to cough out.

Mahiru let out a groan. “Come on, let’s just go already.”

- - - - -

You plopped yourself down into one of the chairs in the dining hall, and fiddled with your hands in your lap as you glanced towards the large windows you had seen earlier; unlike the beautiful sunset you witnessed before, there was just complete darkness on the other side now, the light of the lights inside only helping to make the night outside look even darker than it actually was.

The dining hall wasn’t completely empty when you arrived here.

The chef you saw earlier — who you learned was the “Teruteru” that had dropped the plate of food off for you in the nurse’s office, and had been in possession of your phone that you did, in fact, drop after Akane knocked you over earlier — was still there, cleaning up after having made the whole buffet by himself. Hiyoko had actually taken the effort to point out to you that Teruteru was the class pervert the moment you crossed the threshold into the dining hall, and it was nice to know that your gut feeling about him before was correct, and not just a product of your terror.

But at least he seemed decent enough to return your phone without trouble.

That said, the fear bubbling up inside your stomach still had quite a lot of fuel left.

Due to the lights in the dining hall being brighter than the ones in the hallway, you had to bear witness to what everyone truly looked like as they filtered into the room over a short period of time. You already knew what Mahiru and Hiyoko looked like in good lighting, the nurse’s office also one of the few rooms in the building that had some, but Nekomaru took your breath away when the light revealed the cracks and scratches on his stone body, which he just laughed off.

You had to admit that, even with how unsettling their monstrous appearances were, there was also something so intriguing about them that appealed to the natural human instinct of curiosity within you… but then there were the cases of those who appeared so human on the outside.

Chiaki looked as normal as any girl you might run into in a gaming store, and she had taken a seat right next to you after noticing your obvious discomfort with your current situation. The old handheld was still in her hands, the light attachment removed due to the better lighting, and she tried to pull your focus towards her video game to help distract you and calm you down; it might had worked better if it weren’t for the tingly “static electricity” sensation you got around her that you had felt earlier, the sensation a clear sign that she wasn’t as human as she appeared to be.

Nagito just looked even more ill than before, the bright lighting only making his pale skin stand out a lot more, and his behavior as he conversed with the others — he was seemingly ignoring you, which you couldn’t complain about — made it clear that he was a little off in the head. On the other hand, Hajime both looked and acted like a normal guy, though there was a noticeable scar on his head that was only partly hidden by his hair, the sight of it making you shiver a little.

It didn’t take long for Mikan to enter the dining hall after those three, stumbling a bit like how the zombies in classic horror movies often did when walking around. “S-Sorry for taking so long…!”

Mahiru smiled at Mikan reassuringly. “Don’t worry, Mikan! The meeting hasn’t started yet.”

“O-Oh?” Mikan looked around with a nervous frown on her lips, seeming to take a moment to check who had arrived in the dining hall before she did. “S-So… I didn’t keep you waiting…?”

“No, you didn’t.” Hajime also piped up to reassure the zombified nurse from where he sat at a circular table. “Most of the others aren’t here yet, so… you could say that you’re actually early.”

“A-Ah, okay…”

The nurse looked both relieved and slightly disappointed at that revelation, but she didn’t say anything more as she took a seat at the table Hajime and Nagito were sitting at — needing at least three reassurances that she was actually allowed to sit with them instead of on the floor.

The next to enter was a girl who you had never seen before, and the moment she opened her mouth, you were honestly surprised that you hadn’t at least heard her during your time here; the windows in the dining hall were already cracked, but you swore they grew a bit when she spoke.

“Whoa-ho! It’s true! It’s true! A human’s inside the school!”

Chiaki looked up at the girl calmly. “Ah, Ibuki… you might want to lower your voice a bit.”

You had to take a few moments to focus after your eyes stopped ringing — thankfully, your ears didn’t start bleeding from just how painfully loud Ibuki was being — before you managed to look at and take in the sight of her. Her appearance was a mess, her hair particularly wild with some of it having been dyed pink and blue, though she somehow managed to make it all work for her.

“Oh, sorry!” Ibuki sent you an apologetic smile, rubbing the back of her head as she made her way towards the table. “Ibuki sometimes forgets that humans can’t handle her natural voice.”

You raised an eyebrow as you stared at Ibuki. “Your natural voice is… screaming?”

“Haha, yeah!” Ibuki plopped herself down in the seat opposite to you. “It’s kinda hard to control, but don’t worry! I just gotta use my indoor voice, and then everything’s gonna be all rock ‘n roll.”

She appeared to focus for a moment, closing her eyes and putting her hands up to her head as she repeated the words “indoor voice” to herself over and over again. Even though you were still a little confused, you appreciated the effort she was making to not absolutely destroy your ears.

Your attention was pulled from Ibuki when you saw Sonia enter the dining hall with a nervous anticipation about her, her wings fluttering behind her and sparkling beautifully in the bright light of the dining hall. The worry laced in her expression only lessened the moment she saw you.

“Oh, thank goodness! You are alright!”

There were two guys that followed Sonia into the dining hall, who were also people that you had never seen before, but then you remembered hearing her voice in the halls accompanied by two others earlier; these had to be who she was talking to. The one to draw in most of your attention was a skeleton that had glowing pink hair that was only partially hidden under a beanie, and the other was a guy who had almost every inch of his skin that was visible wrapped up in bandages, though the attention that you gave him was soon lost to the hamsters that sat on his shoulders.

The hamsters were also wrapped up in bandages, which admittedly made them cuter.

“So… this is the foolish mortal that has dared to enter onto this accursed land?” The guy that was wrapped up in bandages crossed his arms as he stared at you with an overly-intense gaze, only breaking it from you when the hamsters sitting on his shoulders squeaked as if responding to him. “It is! My Dark Devas say that their scent is the same as the one lingering in the halls!”

The skeleton let out an annoyed sigh, and you silently wondered how he did that. “Geez, dude, Miss Sonia could’ve just told us if they’re the one or not. She did see them in her room, after all.”

“Oh! Uh…” You looked at Sonia again, your cheeks beginning to warm up from embarrassment that you had almost forgotten you experienced earlier. “...s-sorry about earlier. For both entering your room and then just running off like that… that was probably super rude of me, wasn’t it?”

“It is quite alright.” Sonia smiled brightly at you, her wings fluttering again and sparkling more as they caught the light in just the right way. “As long as you are uninjured, that is all that matters.”

Sonia then sat down in the other seat next to you, and it only took a couple of seconds before the two guys started arguing over who would get the seat on the other side of her; it was hard enough to keep up with the argument as they spoke over each other, but the fact that the guy with the bandages was spicing up his language only added another headache to the situation.

You hesitated for a moment before gesturing to them. “Is this normal, or…?”

“Yes, but please just ignore them.” Sonia continued to smile as if it was nothing. “Kazuichi and Gundham tend to often get into… tussles with each other, so please do not pay it much mind.”

“Kazuichi’s the skeleton and Gundham’s the mummy!” Ibuki piped up, her voice loud but not at all like the painful screeching you heard from her earlier. “They fight over Sonia all the time! It’s a classic love triangle, though… heh, Kazuchi refuses to realize that he’s on the losing side!”

“I’m surprised that both of them aren’t on the losing side.” Hiyoko had a smug smile on her face, her hand held up to her mouth and barely obscuring it from view. “It’s just corpse number one or corpse number two. Tell me, which one would you prefer? A bag of bones or a rotting fleshbag?”

“H-Hey!”

Kazuichi tore his attention from Gundham to look towards Hiyoko with shock on his face, and you were surprised to see how expressive he could be for a skeleton with no facial muscles.

“I’m not a “bag of bones”! I’d say my bone structure is actually quite good!”

Gundham crossed his arms, his hamsters following suit soon after. “Hmph… I’ll have you know, my corporeal form has been purified and treated with the salts of this mortal plane, and wrapped in these mystical strips of flax, to prevent the curse of organic decomposition from taking place.”

“I made it!”

That shout bounced off of the walls of the dining hall as Akane dashed into it, her tongue sticking out of her mouth as she panted crazily and her tail wagging violently behind her.

“I did it in under ten minutes, just like you said to, Coach!”

Nekomaru let out a loud laugh. “I expected nothing less! Your speed is always improving!”

“So…” Akane glanced around the dining hall, an expectant glimmer in her eyes to match the excited smile on her lips. “...where’s my treat? All that running around made me super hungry!”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t forget!” Nekomaru turned in the direction of the kitchen, where you could see Teruteru drying the last of the dishes from the feast he made earlier. “Teruteru, how about whipping up something to reward Akane? I’m never one to discourage a healthy appetite!”

“W-What?” Teruteru widened his eyes as he stared at Nekomaru, before looking between the dishes he had just cleaned and the stone man. “B-But I just finished cleaning up from dinner…”

The chef just stared at Nekomaru, the stone man staring back at him, before he let out a small sigh and began gathering the cooking equipment and ingredients needed to whip up a quick treat for Akane. He soon disappeared into the depths of the kitchen, and your focus was pulled to the entrance of the dining hall as two more — again, unfamiliar — people entered the room.

The girl appeared to be made out of some kind of wood, her movements a bit stiff with a faint creaking sound emitting from her joints as she crossed her arms; she was clearly a puppet of some kind, but lacked the expected strings. “So… this is the human who entered our school…?”

“Well, that’s idiotic of ‘em.” The guy seemed human at a first glance until you noticed the few reptilian features he had, such as his tail and the horns atop his head, which still seemed like they needed more time to grow. He also appeared to have a few scales peppered across his cheeks, which made you think of freckles. “This place is obviously boarded up for a reason…”

“Oh, oh! Almost everyone’s here!”

Ibuki smiled wide as she looked at you, pointing a finger at the girl and then the guy.

“The babe’s Peko and the little guy’s Fuyuhiko!”

Fuyuhiko almost immediately glared at Ibuki, going from zero-to-a-hundred quicker than most would; his temper seemed to go hand-in-hand with his height. “The fuck you just called me?”

“Greetings.” Peko was much calmer in comparison to Fuyuhiko, seeming to pay little to no attention to how Ibuki introduced her, but the way her gaze pierced into you was much more intimidating than you would have expected, and that was when you noticed the sword on her back. “I hope you aren’t here to cause trouble. I would prefer to not have to take you out.”

“Then you can take me out, Peko-Peko!” Ibuki sent a peace sign to Peko, then winked. “Wink!”

You looked around the dining hall as everyone began to mingle with each other, you no longer being the main center of attention, and you realized that if it wasn’t for their — most of their — appearances, they would look like a normal group of teenagers hanging out. It actually caused you to seem even more out of place, being both human and an obvious outsider to their group’s dynamic; you actually started to feel a bit jealous of how close they all seemed with each other.

“Ah, good. Everyone’s arrived in a timely manner, I see.”

“Whoa! You’re the last to arrive?” Hiyoko looked at the last arrival to the dining hall with mock shock displayed on her face, widening her eyes slightly. “That’s not like you, Mr. Fool’s Gold!”

“Hmph, I was just finishing up some last-minute business before coming down here.” The last person was rather large, an almost intense aura of seriousness and regality surrounding him as he stepped further into the room. “This was just an outlier in my otherwise-punctual reputation.”

You couldn’t help but admit to yourself that he looked somewhat familiar, like someone you had seen before somewhere but didn’t personally know. However, there was something seriously off about him, something uncanny that made you tense up as your gaze was solely trained on him.

His footsteps were heavy as he approached the table you were sitting at, and you shrunk a bit in your seat from his piercing gaze, his eyes zoning in on you easily since you stuck out so much.

“Ah… so you’re the human who’s gotten inside our school?”

You swallowed as you stared at him for a moment, before you hesitantly nodded.

“And why exactly are you here? The boarded-up windows and doors clearly suggest that you are not to come inside, and should’ve been warning enough to prevent such irresponsibility.”

“I, uh…” You swallowed again, your mouth feeling dry as your eyes flickered around at all the people surrounding you. You had people sitting on both sides of you, and some even standing behind you, so you couldn’t exactly run away from this. “...I came here with some new friends- well, not really “friends”, but some people I met at my new school. They… they tricked me into coming here and locked the door behind me, so I was just trying to look for a way out…?”

“Hmph.” He crossed his arms, averting his gaze. “...so you’re here because of a juvenile prank.”

“...yep.”

Hiyoko stifled a laugh with her hand. “Oooh, so they’ve sent you to your death?”

“Please stop saying stuff like that!” You clasped your hands in front of your chest, keeping your gaze cast down at your lap. “I’m sorry if I did something wrong! I-I didn’t mean to come here!”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Chiaki placed a hand on your shoulder, and you winced as you felt a small bit of static electricity come from her touch. “You didn’t do anything wrong. There’s no bad guy here.”

“Well, prank or not, this is still a serious matter.” Nekomaru put his hand to his chin, seeming to think for a moment. “This human’s gotten inside the school and seen all of us. That’s not good.”

“To be perceived by a mortal’s eyes…” Gundham crossed his arms, his hamsters resting on his shoulders and snuggling into his scarf. “Truly a troubling situation, a fortune most unfortunate.”

“Oh, I don’t mind being perceived-” Teruteru finally joined the group, placing a plate in front of Akane before wiping his hands with a dishtowel. “-especially when it’s by such a darling human.”

You scooted slightly closer to Chiaki, leaning towards her for comfort.

“I don’t get what the big deal is.” Akane stuffed her mouth full of her “treat”, which turned out to be some kind of meat that smelled really good. “I mean, we let Hajime and Nagito hang around.”

Hajime let a faint smile onto his face, his hand raising to touch the scar on his head with his fingers, letting them trail along it. “Yeah, but… I think our cases are a bit different than theirs.”

“The only thing we share with them is biology.” Nagito also smiled a bit, his elbows resting on the table in front of him as he leaned forward. “But besides that… there’s nothing in common.”

“Well, if you want them silenced…” Fuyuhiko smirked. “I’ve got methods.”

The dining hall went silent aside from a few gasps escaping from some of the members of the group, all eyes on the reptilian boy; the fairy princess sitting beside you notably put her hands over her mouth, her eyes widened, while Chiaki furrowed her eyebrows. There were a few jaws dropped, Ibuki’s and Kazuichi’s more prominent than everyone else’s, and you couldn’t help but be thankful that most of the people here seemed to not want your human blood on their hands.

Peko blinked as she looked at Fuyuhiko, her eyes widened slightly. “Young master…?”

“Huh? What?” Fuyuhiko dropped his smirk as he looked around at everyone, genuine confusion on his face before brief realization and then a glare. “Goddamnit, I don’t mean killing them! I just mean blackmail and threats! There’s more than one way to keep someone silent, you guys!”

The presumed ring leader of the group, Mr. Fool’s Gold — no one had called him anything else — let out a hum. “While that is a solution, this situation doesn’t really call for that kind of action.”

You felt another zap of static electricity shock your shoulder as Chiaki gave it a gentle squeeze, and you looked at her to see her smiling at you; even though her presence meant having to get zapped every so often, she was definitely one of the more approachable people you had met.

She then turned her attention to her friends, her smile unwavering.

“I don’t think that’s necessary. They’re not a threat, and we can definitely trust them… I think.”

“I second that!” Sonia put a hand up into the air, a smile gracing her lips as well. “I do not believe they mean us any harm. Punishment for being the victim of a prank is not needed.”

“Well… if Miss Sonia says so…” Kazuichi looked a little uneasy, scratching his neck before he gave a thumbs-up. “Then they’re also good with me! Miss Sonia’s never wrong, after all!”

The hamsters on Gundham’s shoulders squeaked, and he chuckled. “Both the Dark Fae Queen and my Dark Devas say that the mortal is trustworthy… their judgement is not to be questioned.”

“Ibuki trusts them too!” Ibuki was shouting again, and had to pause briefly as she lowered her voice. “Though Ibuki hasn’t known them long, they don’t seem to be anything to worry about!”

“Well, duh!” Hiyoko giggled. “Even Mikan could easily take them out. They’re totally pathetic!”

Mikan nervously smiled, fidgeting with her hands as she kept her gaze averted from everyone else. “N-No, I’m sure they could maybe fight back… a-a little. If they tried really hard to do so.”

“I don’t think they would fight back.” Mahiru adjusted her camera in her hands, a smile also on her face. “They don’t seem like they want to hurt anyone at all, that picture’s pretty clear to me.”

“Well, then.”

The attention in the dining hall was brought back over to Mr. Fool’s Gold, and you shrunk a little under his gaze, though the feeling of another shocking squeeze to your shoulder comforted you.

“You. Do you have any intention of telling anyone what you saw here?”

You shook your head. “No…”

“You’ll make no mention of anything that happened? About the school or the people here?”

You shook your head again. “No.”

Mr. Fool’s Gold seemed to think to himself for a moment, his arms still crossed and his posture still perfectly straight, and after a few seconds of pure silence in the dining hall, he let out a sigh.

“Then I suppose you may go… but if you do happen to reveal the truths of this place to anyone on the outside, we will find out. That would be troublesome, though, so please do not do that.”

“Okay…”

He glanced around at the others, everyone still focusing their attention on him. “Now, will someone please escort them out? And check the doors while you’re at it as well, please.”

Chiaki stood up, her hand still on your shoulder, and you stood up soon after her, the others in the dining hall beginning to chat with one another again — though some still had words for you.

“Oh! Oh! Since you know everything now, you can totally come back if you want!” Ibuki jumped up from her seat, climbing atop the table to look down at you from her new vantage point as she formed glasses with her fingers. “Ibuki’s spotted a new friend, and she can’t just let that go!”

“It would be lovely, if you could!” Sonia continued to sit in her seat, her hands in her lap before she raised them up to clap them together once, her smile bright. “We don’t get to show our true selves to others often, so it’d be nice to have another person we can just be ourselves around.”

Gundham let out a low laugh as his hamsters squeaked. “The Dark Devas of Destruction give you their blessing to return, if your mortal heart would even be able to withstand their power.”

“Just… stay safe and all that.” Hajime had a slight smile on his face. “You should probably not sneak into any “abandoned” buildings again. You’re kind of lucky that we’re all you ran into.”

Fuyuhiko put his hands in his pockets, his lips turned down into a stern frown as he approached you. “Remember: keep quiet. You don’t wanna know what might happen if you don’t, ya hear?”

You just gave a slight nod before Chiaki escorted you out of the dining hall, the sound of various goodbyes and farewells ringing out from everyone; the shift from a bright crowded room to a dim empty hallway was jarring, but the dusty old building seemed a lot less intimidating than before.

You were finally going to get to leave.

- - - - -

The front entrance door was covered in wooden boards, the glass cracked with some pieces of it missing underneath; it was just like you remembered it being from all those many hours ago.

Chiaki pushed open the door, letting a cool breeze of the night air blow into the entrance hall and into your face — the air was so fresh and crisp compared to what you had been breathing for the last couple of hours that you could almost start crying, but you were also too tired to do so. The area outside the door was empty of life, the sound of city life echoing in the distance.

Those “friends” from before were gone, almost as if they had never been there.

They probably left hours ago after getting bored, while you had been fearing for your life.

“You okay?”

You snapped out of your thoughts as you looked over at Chiaki, a curious look on her face as she tilted her head. You blinked a few times as your brain thought about what she asked you.

“...yeah, I’m fine.”

Chiaki let a smile onto her face, letting out a small hum as she placed a hand on her chest. “...you know, you really can visit whenever you’d like. I don’t think anyone here would mind.”

“That’s… a nice offer.” You smiled back, shifting a bit in place where you stood. “Though… do you guys always meet up in the middle of the night, or was this a special thing, or, like, what…?”

“Yep.” Chiaki nodded her head. “It’s the safest and most convenient time for us to gather at the school. We all have lives during the day, so nighttime is pretty much the only option that works.”

“...got it.”

You took a few steps out into the cool night air, taking in a few deep breaths of air that made it feel as if your lungs were singing at how fresh it was, and you shivered slightly before hugging yourself with your arms. You then looked over your shoulder at Chiaki, who still smiled at you.

“I… don’t know if I’d be able to come here often, but… I could visit every once in a while…?”

Chiaki seemed to perk up as her soft smile brightened a little under the moonlight as she closed her eyes and removed her hand from her chest. “That’s great! We’ll all be looking forward to it!”

You managed to wave at Chiaki, the gamer girl returning it, before she closed the entrance door to the school, a loud click sounding as she made sure to lock it properly. You let your eyes linger on the school for a moment, taking in how it really did look abandoned; there was no hint or sign that there was anyone currently occupying the building, the school grounds just quiet and dark.

You then turned away from the school and let out a small sigh, beginning to walk away from the old school building. Your footsteps crunched under your feet from dead leaves and branches.

“...I really hope I’m not going crazy.”

[floralcavern]

Xavier and Volpes 1/2

Part 2

Xavier trekked through the woods, breathing in the cold air. Fall was coming. He should find a place to sleep, since it will probably get cold. 

He found a decently sized fox hole. 

He poked his head in, sword ready. Luckily, it didn’t seem like any animals were in it. 

He climbed in and slouched against the dirt wall, letting out a sigh of exhaustions. 

Managed to outrun them. But how long will I manage to stay hidden? I don’t have nearly enough materials to survive out here..

He only had a couple of arrows left over, and they were dull. 

Anything to sharpen them with..?

He picked up a sharp rock and began to sharpen his arrows and sword. 

Will I eat tonight? Will I eat tomorrow?

He shook his head, clearing his head. 

Let’s not think about that right now. For now, let’s just focus on staying warm. 

He piled up a few sticks and dry grass and used his sword to strike a flame. 

It was small, and definitely not safe. But right now, he couldn’t care about precautions. He rubbed his hands together and tried to breathe out hot air. 

This is going to be a long night. 

He laid down in the dirt, his legs cramped up together uncomfortably, shivering as he felt his nose get runny and the sun set…

……

Xavier stalked through the grass, bow and arrow at the ready. It’s been 4 days since he’s eaten. He is starting to feel desperate.

His ears perked up as he heard rustling in the bushes. He notched his arrow, silencing his breath as he slowly drew back, following the sound of the crinkling. And when he knew he had his target, he released. 

He heard the sound of a thwip and then a crack. He walked over and found what he had shot. 

“Oh shit..”

It was a small fox. Not anything that he could eat. Just a poor animal. 

He scooped it up into his arms. “Cmere, little guy..”

The small creator whimpered in pain. 

He brought it to the hole he’d been sleeping in. 

“Let’s see..” he said, setting the animal down to observe the wound. 

“Yeesh.. sorry.. I didn’t think I’d shoot a fox..” 

Xavier knew close to nothing about the gods and spirit world. He had never been taught those types of things and his village had always been against worship of them. But there are certain things even Xavier knew. Like how foxes can tend to be spirits. Not always, but just in case, it’s best not to harm one. 

He didn’t remember who taught him that. Not parents or school. It was just common sense. 

“This is gonna hurt..” he told the animal. He applied pressure to the wound and slowly pulled the arrow out. 

The animal squeaked and cried in pain, which only made Xavier more guilty. 

“I know, I’m sorry..” he grumbled before he finally managed to pull the arrow out completely, crimson red blood dripping onto the dirt. 

He looked into his own stash of medical supplies. He was nearly out of bandages. He was hesitant, but after glancing back at the fox, he decided Screw it and wrapped the bandages around the animal’s flank. 

The animal lifts its head up to look at Xavier. 

“Um.. rest up.. I guess..”

His stomach growled and he leaned back, clutching his gut. 

What am I going to do about the food situation? Will I have to eat worms and tree bark? I haven’t seen any other animals out here. 

He sighed, resting his hands in his lap as he lowered his head. 

The animal came over and rested its head on Xavier’s lap. His eyes softened and he began to stroke its fur. 

“Hey, little guy..” he said softly. “Sorry again for shooting you.”

The creature let out a raspy sigh, making Xavier laugh. “Now you’re trying to guilt trip me.”

The animal curled into a ball. Xavier wrapped his arms around it and relaxed a bit and found himself drifting to sleep.

…

By the time it was the morning, the animal was gone. Bloody bandages were all that were left on his lap. 

Shoot, did they come undone? Hope that little guy is ok..

He sighed and stood up, only to be struck by a tight pain in his stomach. 

Shit.. so hungry..

He shakily grabbed his supplies and crawled out of the hole. “Need to find something to eat..” he told himself. 

He used his sword to slice off a chunk of tree bark and began to gnaw the insides. 

He smacked on that as he looked around for anything to kill. But there was nothing, not even a passing bird. 

He heard a noise behind him and whipped his head around just in time to see it. That same exact fox! It quickly jumped and hid behind a tree. 

“Are you… following me?” Xavier said, tilting his head. 

The animal hesitated before stepping out and stomping its little paws. Xavier was a little confused, but approached it anyways. 

“Hey, the wound is gone! Are you really that same fox?”

The animal nodded, which seriously caught him off guard. 

A spirit? Maybe.. or just a really damn smart fox.

The animal began to dart off, which caught Xavier off guard. 

Do I follow it..?

He hesitated before deciding ’screw it’ and chasing after it. I’m definitely going crazy, following some random animal like it’s actually worth it. I think I’m going insane from being isolate for days.

He watched flashes or black and bright orange dart through the grass and trees. If it weren’t for his knight training, he probably would’ve lost the thing quickly.

He nearly tripped over the animal when it came to a stop. He ducked down behind the bushes when the fox lowered himself as well. 

“Is that…” It was. A deer!

He looked down at the fox with wide eyes, who was giving him a knowing look. He then looked back at the deer and readied 3 arrows. He aimed for the front leg and between the halfway bottom of the chest and the top of the back. 

He shot all 3 at once, hitting their designated targets before the deer even had a chance to blink. 

He looked down at the fox, who had such a human look off shock it was a mix of both humorous and uncanny. 

He began to gather up the pieces of meat that he can cook. Just the idea of this cooking over a popping fire made him drool. 

He carried it back to his camp, the fox trailing closely behind. 

By the time he made it, he was covered in blood. It stank horribly. I’ll wash up later.

He began to pile up some firewood he’d been collecting for the past few days and stack it up. He struck up a fire and sighed happily. 

The fox sighed happily and curled up next to the flames. 

As Xavier cooked the deer, he glanced over curiously at the fox. 

“Hey,” he said. The animal looked up lazily. 

“Did you purposely lead me to the deer? Did you… mean to help me?”

The animal looked into the fire, its eyes reflecting with a bright, fiery red, before it climbed into Xavier’s lap. 

Xavier was caught off guard but relaxed slightly, stroking the animal. “I’ll share some of my dinner with you. Since you helped me out.”

The animal perked up happily, making Xavier chuckle. 

Once it was done cooking, he tore a piece off for the Fox. 

The two ate together, tearing apart the meat fiercely. 

Xavier collapsed into the grass, patting his stomach. “That was good. I missed a big meal like that. Whew.”

The Fox laid down next to his head. “Hm?” Xavier murmured, turning toward him. 

“Thanks, little guy,” he said, patting its head. “You really helped me out. I thought that I would die of hunger. Not exactly the way I would wanna die out here.”

The animal let out a curious squeak and Xavier chuckled. “Are you asking me a question?”

The animal nodded. Either that, or Xavier really was crazy. 

“Eh, well, you asking why I’m out here?”

The Fox nodded again. He let out a sigh. 

“I come from a very strict kingdom. It’s a serious dictatorship. They’ve forbidden any mention of the gods or anything spiritual. Even mentioning the name of a god could land you in prison. Well, I was a knight for this kingdom. And a really damn good knight, too. Not to be too much of a braggart.”

The Fox gave him a seemingly amused look, which made Xavier reach out to pet its head. “After carrying out multiple public executions, I felt my humanity slowly leave me. I realized I couldn’t do this. I had witnessed hundreds of public executions growing up. But actually being the one to carry them out.. it changed me..” He paused, processing his thoughts as he remembered. 

“Please, let me go! I’m sorry! Y-you can’t let my son live without a mother!”

Xavier sucked in a breath as he tried to forget that woman’s tears. The first person he had been forced to put to death. 

“So in the middle of a meeting, I attempted to assassinate the king..” He laughed bitterly. “Stupid idea, I know. I was quickly outnumbered. But I managed to escape out the window. I ran to my childhood home and packed up some supplies. Which wasn’t a lot, since no one had lived there for years. Aaaaand.. here I am.”

The Fox gave him a sad, pitying look and suddenly Xavier felt embarrassed. Not only had he showed his vulnerable side to some random wild animal, but now that animal was giving him a look of pity. How humiliating…

He jolted in surprise when the Fox nuzzled into his neck. “You trying to comfort me?” He asked, amused. 

He wrapped his arm around the Fox, and let out a relaxed breath. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d laid next to another living being. Was it.. Kip? His old friend. That was so long ago…

Xavier tightly closed his eyes. Don’t think about it..

He sat up. “Covered in blood…” he grumbled under his breath and removed his blood soaked tunic. 

The Fox let out a surprised squeak, which confused Xavier, but he just ignored it and walked to the river to wash up. As he submerged the tunic into the water, the Fox appeared at his side, which Xavier found funny. 

“You’re a clingy little guy, aren’t ya?” she said, patting its head. 

He washed the blood off his face and out of his hair and let out a sigh before sitting back up to walk back to the camp. He laid his shirt next to the campfire to let it dry and laid in the grass. 

The Fox stood over him, staring at him with a seemingly.. shy look?

Xavier laughed. “You are the most expressive animal I have ever seen in my life!”

He grabbed his tunic and pulled it back on and crawled into the fox hole, the Fox following close behind, and closed his eyes to sleep. 

…

This was how life was for the next few weeks. It was nice. It was strange to say that some random wild animal was his best friend, but it was the truth. 

The two would hunt together, eat together, and the Fox would even want to wrestle and play. 

Life was rather.. good. He never felt this free in his old kingdom. 

He could run around, roam free. He had no one to worry about judging him. He could just have a full on, one way conversation with a wild animal without him being arrested under suspicion for using magic to have contact with the gods (yes, that was an actual offense you could be taken in for). Sure, he may be losing his mind a little bit, but who cares? He was unconfined. And he loved it.

“Hey Fox,” he said, looking at the Fox who clung to his shoulder, which seemed to be his favorite form of travel. “Smell any good fruit nearby?”

The Fox nodded its head. 

“All right. Lead the way.”

The Fox hopped off of him and lead the path ahead toward an area a bit closer to the opening than he was comfortable with. 

“I’m not sure this area is too safe, Fox..” he murmured. 

The Fox ignored him and began to bite down on some mangoes that had seemingly recently fallen from the tree. 

Xavier sighed and began to gather some mangoes for himself. 

“I’ll wash these up in the river near the camp,” he told the Fox. 

He stuffed them into his satchel that he had woven last week. 

He glanced at the Fox, noticing its ears perk up. 

“You hear something, buddy?”

The Fox looked around and slowly began to back up into the bushes, its eyes carefully watching the clearing. 

Xavier immediately got worried and pulled out his bow. 

He ducked down low and was horrified when a group of 5 men came out into the clearing. 

He knew those sigils on their suits…

Knights. 

They found him. 

And they had hunting dogs. 

Shit.. shit, shit, shit..

“The dogs are going wild,” said one of the knights. Xavier recognized him. That was Leon. The man who has trained Xavier, acting as a surrogate fatherly figure to him. “He’s close..”

Leon lifted his head and squinted his dark eyes in Xavier’s direction. 

“Xavier Mendoza! We know you’re here! Show yourself!”

He took fast, deep breaths, the Fox giving him a concerned look. Xavier put a hand on its head, signaling for it to stay down and still.

A moment of chilling silence, the only sound of the wind in the leaves. 

“You’re not showing yourself? Fine..” He watched in horror as Leon took out an unlit torch. “You’re not going to come out? Perhaps we’ll smoke you out.” He lit the tip of the torch. 

Xavier watched, sweat beading down his nose. He looked down at the Fox, tears in his eyes. 

“Fox..” he said quietly. “I’m sorry.”

The Fox squeaked in surprise and gave him a pleasing look. Xavier gave it a little kiss on its nose. “Thanks for being, honestly, one of the best friends I’ve had.”

He stepped out. The Fox squeaked in horror.

Xavier approached the men with his hands up. 

“So.. we’ve finally found you.”

Xavier forced a smile, which hurt his cheeks. “Took you bastards long enough.”

“Hm.. so the fire threat actually worked?”

“Heh.. scared of being burned?”

“No.. unlike you, I actually care about this forest burning down, believe it or not.”

“Tsk. Figures. You’ve always been sensitive.”

Xavier rolled his eyes. “You gonna take me in, or not?”

“Hmm.. of course. Men, bind him up.”

It was.. strange. Being bound up by men who he used to call him comrades. 

Neville was in charge of binding Xavier’s legs. Xavier used to train this kid to shoot a bow. 

Austin bound Xavier’s arms behind his back. The two of them used to get drunk and sing bar songs together. 

And then there was… Roan. Kit’s older brother, who placed the gag over Xavier’s mouth. 

Roan hated Xavier. He blamed him for what happened to Kip, despite the fact that Xavier knew, deep down, it was the government’s fault. 

Leon took a step toward Xavier’s now completely bound together. 

“You said you cared about the nature of this place?” Leon asked, Xavier unfortunately being the direct target of his sour breath. “Well. I always told you you’re too soft for a knight of Fractisomnia.”

He lifted his still lit torch and threw it into the woods. 

Xavier watched in distress as the trees slowly became a bright orange and red, as if fall was returning..

He tried to rush towards the woods, but Roan grabbed him by the back of the shirt and forced Xavier to watch. They were on the other side, in the clearing where it was safe..

He let out muffled screams and cries, begging for them to put it out, but no words could come through the gag. 

He wanted to scream “FOX!” but he couldn’t. 

The beautiful home that Earth had provided him burned away. And there was not a thing he could do about it. 

Once the knights were bored of Xavier’s muffled sobbing, they began drag him back to the kingdom, where his government mandated punishment awaited him. 

But he knew that nothing could be worse than losing the place that brought him the most happiness in a long time..

[minecraftbed]

a desertduo fic based on the songAugust by flipturn

it’s so them right im not delusional

August: a song about a relationship that only works out during the month of august, wherein it seems perfect. After august it falls apart, until the next august comes around. 

title: octagonal

wordcount: 971

rating: T

ao3: HERE

“Hey, catch.”

Grian barely had time to finish pulling off his sweater before something equally as red entered his peripheral. He jumped backwards with a squeak and a fluff of wings, the object landing by his feet with a thud. An apple, shiny like glass under the desert sun.

“That wasn’t… you can’t just throw things at me, Scar—” the words were annoyed but laced with amusement as he adjusted his tank top. “—and expect me to react on time.” 

“Well,” Scar bit into his own fruit like an animal, juice running down his fingers, down his wrist, down his arm. “What if I’d been an enemy?”

“You aren’t.”

“And…! —And what if that had been TNT.”

Grian sighed. “Then I wouldn’t have wanted  to catch it, would I?” 

Scar took a second, canting his head and staring at him, apple frozen in motion towards his mouth. Then, the lightbulb went off. “Oh…” a chuckle. “Oh, I guess not.” 

It was contagious; the way they bickered and laughed, the constant back and forth as they worked. Hands splintered from planks of wood, then calloused from rough sandstone bricks. The foundations of their new …home… were beginning to take place. 

(Really, it was Grian doing the work. Scar stood around shirtless and thought up ways to scam people.)

The sun, high in the sky, unchanging as they changed beneath it. 

————————————-

The new world was different.

Grian noticed it from day one; the shift in tone, they went from orange to blue. 

It didn’t help that there was the looming threat of what everyone was calling ‘the boogeyman’. As if they were twelve. As if the insatiable, sudden need to kill one of your friends was as light as the stories parents told their children so that they would go to sleep.

Maybe it was, Grian hadn’t experienced either. 

But he felt the effects. People stood further away during conversations, hands itching by their sides ready to draw. No one wanted to be alone, either, but it was worse to be alone with another. Anyone could turn. Anyone could kill.

The curse brought on an ultimatum: them or you. And who in their right mind wouldn't choose the former? 

It was dark when he saw Scar for the first time. Part of him knew he should be cautious, memories burnt fresh into his brain of blood on his sword, in his hair, his skin. Together they had taken down everything and everyone, including themselves. Behind that annoying lopsided smirk and fake diamond armour, Scar hid what he was capable of. 

Grian wasn’t scared of his violence. No, no. His words, they were a completely different thing to fear.

“...So I can’t put you on the back of a llama and take you to the desert?”

It hurt, in an unexpected way. The type of way where you end up angry at yourself for not preparing on time. His mental walls were only half constructed, architecturally weak, and Scar had found the point to prod on his first try. Grian laughed, shrill and light as his heart crawled further inside. 

He needed severance.

“Hey… have you tried transferring a life yet?” 

The new world was different.

“No, I haven’t!”

He would be different.

————————————-

His throat stung, dehydrated lips cracked. Grian’s scream would unendingly echo throughout the ravine.

He waited, and waited, and waited. Alone in the desert, dizzy with heatstroke, uncertain of what was to come. When Scar finally showed up, he wasn’t sure if he was real or a mirage; he spoke to him anyway. 

The flowers. Lilacs and poppies. Grian clutched the wilted bundle in his fist, torn between them and the new shade of Scar’s eyes.

“Can we still be friends?”

Could they? Did Grian care if they couldn’t? It was just stupid rules of a stupider game. Half of everything was made up on the fly, and the other half broken whenever someone felt like it. They were too carefree, when nothing was there to enforce them. 

Grian didn’t want to admit it, but somewhere along the muddied lines, his obligation had grown into greedy devotion. He needed Scar, and Scar needed him. At least if they got any more parasitic the vultures would have something to feast on. 

“I think so? I still owe you my first life,” and the one after that, and the one after that.

They rearranged their sleeping quarters that night, silently communicating as they pushed two beds together. It was sticky and humid, but their hands stayed entwined until morning. 

Grian left the flowers on the windowsill, with thought that they would dry. 

————————————-

Grian had never experienced the boogeyman curse, but he had felt the effects.

“At least his bed is out here, so we don’t have to ruin his lovely house.”

That was something, right? 

They had built the obsidian spawn-camping death trap OUTSIDE of his lovely house. For that, Grian deserved a pat on the back. Joel gave him a funny look as the words left his mouth, the absurdity of the situation crawling down his spine. 

They needed these lives. Scar… Scar had too many. He didn’t need them like him and Joel did. —- Hell, he would lose them himself soon enough. All they were doing was stopping such an important resource from going to waste.

The method was… justified. 

So when Scar refused their offer, backing away from his beloved mountain, spewing lies, silver tongue tangled, Grian didn’t feel bad, loading his crossbow with bolt after bolt. Each one finding a place in flesh, in armour. Scar had made his choice.

At the end of the day, his heart was just a muscle behind his sternum. 

And Grian only knew how to touch skin when it was to brush away stray grains of sand.

[andalon-historian]

Sir Kay, for his part, considered his role in the evening's affairs complete. He was the steward, and he would stew, now that the stew was devoured and the dinner done with all but a dance or two.

He sat down on a mossy old tree stump, slowly, painfully, and placed his crutch to the side. The blue carpet of stars glimmered through the trees' outstretched hands, silhouetting the damp, mulchy soil. He took in a deep breath. It was earthy, but it counted as a breath of fresh air after too long in the main hall.

He sighed. He did like the kitchen work, right? He started back when he could fight any knight but Lancelot; he didn't only start... now.

But it's different. "Now" makes it different.

He heard a rustle in the brush up ahead. "Who goes there?," he called, expecting a cat or a badger.

Instead, a small man walked out. He was four feet tall, but broad as the tallest knight, with a big round torso to fill it all up. His dress was in the elite style, all hemmed and buttoned and vested, but the texture looked scratchy and unhewed, and up the back it was covered in bright green moss. He had a plain iron axe strapped to his back, and a scratchy-looking inky black beard that crawled up his face and almost covered up rose-red eyes.

"No one, milord," the man said, "A simple fairy folk, nothing to be alarmed."

Kay raised an eyebrow. "Shouldn't you be hoping I don't notice that? Trying to trick me into something or other?"

"Is that what ye think of me, milord?" The man's eyes seemed to twinkle. "An me here just tryna be your humble servant."

"Ah," said Kay, "I see what this is." He smiled and leaned back. "Arthur's told me about you, right? You're a dorger."

The dorger-- if that's what he was-- sat cross-legged a few paces away from Kay. He pulled a piece of moss off his bald head and held it over his heart, and said, "why ye out here way from the revels?"

Kay sighed and rolled his eyes. Arthur seemed to think they were harmless, and if he was going to do this it might as well be with someone he'd never see again.

He gestured to his leg. "I'll never walk straight anymore. Not without the crutch," he said, lifted up the support, and dropped it back to the ground.

"What's that got to do with revels?," the dorger asked.

"It only happened a few weeks ago. I haven't... gotten used to it."

"So you can't revel until you're used to it. I can help you practice!"

"No, sit back down. It's not physical. I used to be a knight."

"Then you're still a knight. You don't lose that, do you?"

"Technically. But I can't joust. And I can't melee. I can't *fight*. All I can do is *steward*. I cook and I plan."

"I see," said the dorger.

"And I love those things! At least I used to. But now-- I don't know. I still do."

"No, no, I understand. This is not a man's work, the running things and being in charge. A man's work is as a foot soldier." The dorger started to stand up.

"What?," said Kay. "No, that's not true at all."

"You don't need to deny it with me; we're alone here. If you can't fight, you can't die!"

"What?"

"You can't be left doing a woman's work, that's reaching above your station!" He put the moss back on his head and drew his simple axe. "Here; I will fight you, and we will put an end to this."

Kay stared stunned, and then expelled a sharp, bitter laugh. "I don't want your pity. It doesn't count if it's a pity-fight."

"Man says pity, I say glory!"

Kay rolled his eyes. "Where's the glory in letting me win?"

That managed to give the smaller man pause. He lowered his axe for a second to think, and then said "Why would I let you win? I'm going to defeat you bluntly and cut off your head."

Kay sputtered and caught himself "...What? Why?"

"You're in the king's household, milord. It would be such a shame to let you die of old age."

The dorger made a lunge then, and Kay rolled out of the way onto his bad side and let out a cry. He grabbed his support and flung it up to parry the axe, which embedded itself in the hard wood with a crack. Supine, with the blade in his crutch, he grabbed its handle and kicked the dorger with his able foot, and again, and on the third kick with a heaving "oof!" the dorger tumbled backwards feet over head.

Kay dropped the axe and grabbed his leg in pain, squeezing his eyes shut, controlling his breathing. With a final "agh" he sat up, and the fairy man was gone.

[liminal-storage]

#3: Quiver (Free Choice)

Prompt: Free Write 

Characters: Kuni Content Warning: None Notes: Kuni, a late night, and a strange little cavern room in Priarch's basement. Vague mentions of characters belonging to @thedarknesssings.

-----------------

It never failed.

Every encounter with Helios or Urien set her blood to boiling, her limbs to restless wandering. Pent up anger and violent urges, and all the words she'd had to bite back put a sense of tension into every one of her movements.

Even hours after they'd gone, and with the buzz of alcohol skipping through her veins, she found herself clenching her teeth in anger and she knew she needed to go for a walk. It was the only real outlet she had for such energy at the moment, and getting away from the bar seemed like a good idea.

Why her steps then carried her deeper into the halls of Priarch, rather than out, she would never truly know. Maybe her words to Lyrin'a about hidden nooks and crannies had instilled some vague curious hunger, and curiosity was certainly better than anger at the moment. Regardless, it seemed that some exploration was in order, if only to cool her head.

There were certain doors she would not open, hallways where venturing was completely out of the question. The oubliette, Spider's sanctum, and Celestin's wing of the infirmary were places you didn't simply go without an invitation (or at least without a hell of an excuse to back you up). And so she had to venture even deeper, into lower levels and darker halls.

Dark enough that she vaguely wondered whether those paths had always been there or not, or if her half-drunk mind was playing tricks on her. Dark enough that only her keen night vision allowed her to see a way forward at all.

When at last she came to a stop, the smell of damp stone surrounded her. Kuni found herself having to blink and come back to herself, for she could not remember what turns she'd taken to get here, or how deeply she must've descended. Gathering a deep breath, the woman reached out to lay a palm flat against the nearest wall. Not just the scent of stone...it was stone, the natural curve of some underground cavern meeting the warmth of her skin.

Strange.

She let her fingertips trace over the cool surface, along dips and bumps and one small crack until they met the edge of some sort of seam. She blinked some more, squinted and focused on the spot where her fingers came to rest. The surface felt different. Smoother, slightly warmer. Polished, almost. Wood?

There was a door here.

Caution and apprehension rose up, clashed violently against curiosity and intrigue. She ought to turn back, forget her find. Crawl into bed at home and declare this one of those things better left alone. It'd be easier. Safer. Probably more advisable than what she was about to do. Who knew what waited behind that door?

Carefully, her fingers found the knob and gave it a tentative turn. Met with no resistance, she followed the inward swing of the door.

Red eyes squinted against a sudden burst of light. It wasn't exactly bright, but it was unexpected enough to have her vision momentarily blurring. She could tell immediately where the light came from, oddly enough. Hot wax and the whooshing whisper of countless tiny flames told her it was nothing more than candlelight.

One eye peeled open, then the other, and sure enough her sight was met by the warm glow of dozens upon dozens of candles. Their light outlined dark pews, dark stone, and the shape of what appeared to be an altar.

Thin shafts of light filtered down from above, struggling to squeeze through the gaps between lush green vines dangling through a crevice. Beyond the faintly illuminated pews, the darkness seemed to swallow all other light. Hungry. Yawning. Oppressive. It was not just a room, but a larger cavern, the air cold yet thick.

No iconography decorated the space. Aside from what seemed to be an offering bowl upon the altar, she couldn't see any other ceremonial tools. But only a fool would miss the thin stream trickling down through the crevice to pool in a stony basin of fathomless, dark water. No iconography, but she remembered well the talk of black water.

This place must be for the Secariots, then. Or for the strange shadows residing within them, along with any followers of theirs.

Aside from the gentle rush of water and the candles' soft whispers, all was quiet. Not a soul moved within the space, or at least none that she could sense. But then, who had lit the rows upon rows of candles? The thought sent a brief shiver down her spine, not at all helped by the shadows which seemed to stretch out towards her like reaching fingers. Was someone preparing for a sermon here in the burgeoning dark?

She should probably leave, didn't want to be seen as defiling the space simply due to her curious presence. But it was quiet here. So strangely peaceful in spite of the faint chill of unease. Something about the cool air flowing against the walls quieted the rage in her head. Something in the pattern of the flickering firelights calmed her heartbeat. Here, so deep below the main building, so far away from the sights of the bar and the harsh lights and the lingering sickening feeling the night had left her with, there came a soothing ease. The same sort of ease that came with lying in a cold, dark room to remedy a splitting migraine.

It was enough to coax her forward to kneel by the water's edge and lay her forehead against the cool stone. She wouldn't think too hard about what was worshipped here, or the possibility of other souls arriving. She liked the way this cavern quieted her rampant thoughts.

All she really wanted was a moment; a few more breaths of peace before something inevitably came to interrupt it. And if the stewards of the space decided that was a sin?

Well, she'd just have to pay penance, she supposed.

[catsvrsdogscatswin]

Higurashi Month 2024, Day 27: Longing

Higurashi Month prompts archive: AO3 

Rika couldn't quite remember when she had started, but she was fairly sure that she got the idea from Irie.

She'd been waiting patiently post-checkup, she forgot which one, and in answer to some question about his research she'd also long since forgotten, he mentioned that the way to avoid getting frustrated by lack of progress was to focus on a hobby. His, unsurprisingly, had been something related to maids, but Rika had still gone back home that day deep in thought.

And so, her scrapbook was born.

It wasn't an evidence scrapbook, or anything like that. It was a memories-and-hope scrapbook.

The first thing she always did was tear out the calendar date and, if she was only a year or so old, crawl off to hide it until she was old enough to hold a pencil and have a notebook. Then she'd tear off the date marking that day, and paste both into the first page of her notebook.

As the years marched on afterwards, she would add little bits and pieces –flowers she and Satoko had pressed, an origami creature they'd folded in class, a scribbled score chart from one of the club's first games.

Akasaka sometimes brought her candy in June 1978, and Rika carefully flattened the wrapper and taped it into her ancient notebook.

In one of the worlds, he bought her a cheap plastic hair clip –a cute little black and white cat mascot– and when Rika awoke in the fragment after that, her first action was to scramble for the drawer where she kept her journal.

It was empty. Completely empty: bare wood, no notebook, much less that precious hair clip tucked away at the end of the first fourth chunk of the pages. Both notebook and hair clip were gone, as if they never existed. In this world, they never had.

Her parents had thought her breaking down, screaming and thumping the floorboards as she wept, had just been a three-year-old's typical baseless tantrum.

Rika had refused to speak to Hanyuu for a week afterwards.

She still kept patiently recreating and refilling her notebook, though. As the years went on, it became less of a hobbyist distraction and more idle daydreams; here was the page with Akasaka's candy wrapper, with age, no longer crinkly, and it was bordered on nearly every side with doodles and notes about what to do in Tokyo, what kind of person Akasaka's child might be, if Rika might ever get along with them.

There was the rudimentary origami she and the other children had done, flattened into the pages between two paper folds, with a list of maybe-future schools she might get into, what she wanted to learn, what she might plan to do when she grew up.

Here was the post-it note that labeled Keiichi's things on his first day at the Hinamizawa Branch School, carefully preserved amongst doodles of their club and what lives they might lead someday, when they all grew up, when they were all alive.

It was a tether that helped her from breaking down, these fantasies, but Rika still felt a sharp pang every time she opened a fresh notebook, remembering all the memories she had carefully curated, now completely erased from all history. Everything ran on the same path, but the world was full of random chance and change, and she couldn't save or keep anything. Not a single scrap of paper, not a single plastic hair clip.

But if this time –this time, this time, this time, this time– it was her final run, her final painful cycle, she would be devastated if she didn't have this collection of memories to warm her heart and ease her nostalgia moving forward into the future.

So every time, Rika Furude cracked her fingers, then crawled over with her toddler's body to snatch the latest page from the calendar.