#the way I GASPED when I saw shadow milk there

[piromina]

wait are we getting more beast lore in the next update?????

[brittle-doughie]

Britttlleeee

Since your hc for Y/N Cookie is that they lost a partner long ago in the storyline's you create. Which I love btw. Do you think the Beasts would exploit this or use this in some way to try and sway Y/N Cookie to join/be with them? They've been through a lot and appear to have little to no therapy. So I could see the Beasts taking advantage of this vulnerability.

The Fool (Shadow Milk Cookie)

Oof, the decease spouse multiplier?

It’s going to be Shadow Milk’s doing, he’s the one most suited for trickery and striking you while you’re at your most vulnerable state of mind.

The mist envelopes you, the shouts of PV and WL calling out to you slowly fade away as you look all around, trying to answer them but never seeming to get a response back. You ready your weapon, you were not letting anything this Beast says or does get to you.

???: “Hello…?”

You gasped as your pupils shrunk, heading perking up as you looked around the place.

That voice, it couldn’t be….

???: “My beloved, are you there…?”

No way…she/he was dead….

???: “Oh, how I missed you so much…”

SVTFOE, anyone? Feels bad about the finale though. Just picture it being a puppet of the spouse cookie, you get the idea.

You saw her/him, a puppet of your lost flame, alive and well….all the fight in you suddenly extinguishes as you drop your weapon, your hand shaking as emotions rise.

You: “H-hey….”

Spouse Cookie: “Bless the witches that you’re here with me at last….”

You: “I thought I’d never see you again…but what are you doing here? It’s not safe, let me take you somewhere safe first!”

Spouse Cookie: “It’s okay. We are with each other again, that’s all that matters now…”

You: “B-but, I…”

Spouse Cookie: “Isn’t this why you pulled through for so many years? To be with me again…?”

You: “I���I never gave up on you. So many times, I thought if I had just let you go, it would’ve been for the best. But that little part of me j-just couldn’t. A p-part of me w-wanted to maintain hope that y-you…*sniffle*”

Spouse Cookie: “My cherished, please do not cry. Why are you crying? I’m here now, please come into my arms…”

You didn’t hesitate and ran into his/her arms as you weeped silently. All the memories, the trading words of love to one another, you missed it. All of it.

You: “I-I love you…..”

Spouse Cookie: “It’s okay, I love you too, my sweetest cookie….”

You kept hugging her, unaware that her the puppet’s hold was getting tighter around you, her hands gripping your form more firmly, almost in a death grip….

You kept hugging…though, you furrow your eyebrows when you hear something distant in the mist, it sounded like…voices..?

???: “….Y/N….don’t….trust….!”

You listen more intently, was that…Pure Vanilla Cookie?

Pure Vanilla Cookie: “Shadow…Milk….tricks…your head…!”

You pieced together his words and gasped, but by then, it was already too late….

Spouse Cookie: “My dearest lover, what is the problem? Always know that I will take care of it…”

That last part was a malicious croak as you hesitantly look up to face your love(?)

The strings, the segmented limbs, hollow eyes and grin that harbor many blue colored eyes staring right back at you….

This was NOT your love….

It was a bastardization of him/her….

By the Beast….Shadow Milk Cookie…

False Spouse Cookie: “I love you, Y/N Cookie. And I’m never LETTING YOU GO!”

The puppet held onto you even tighter and started to rapidly drag you into the corrupted forest as you cry out in fear and despair!

False Spouse Cookie: “Don’t be so scared, ya silly willy! Just think about how happy you’ll be full of deceit and chaos! How happy you and him/her will be! Well, as best as I can imitate him/her at least!”

Shadow Milk Cookie wasn’t even trying to keep up the facade anymore, his voice coming through the puppet instead.

False Spouse Cookie: “THIS IS IT! LET ME INTO YOUR MIND AND DROWN IN DECEIT-WHAT?!”

You were suddenly dropped to the ground, rolling forward a bit before coming to a stop. You hastily get up to see the puppet dangling on only one string, the rest of the body limp.

False Spouse Cookie: “Hey, watch the puppet! Do you have any idea how long it took me to get it right?!”

Gingerbrave: “Y/N Cookie, are you okay?! That was quite the fall.”

Yeah, you told him you were alright. You soon see that he didn’t come alone as Pure Vanilla and White Lily Cookie had come to you, White Lily tending to your side.

Pure Vanilla Cookie: “We have made it just in time. I am glad you are alright, Y/N Cookie.”

White Lily Cookie: “They’re shaking. They’ve been..disturbed….”

Shadow Milk’s puppet was soon replaced by the Beast himself, who was anything but happy.

Shadow Milk Cookie: “Why do you PESTS always meddle in my script?! It was simple enough, I win Y/N’s mind over and I get to taint them with deceit to become a deliverer of deceit and lies! This was not how this was supposed to go!”

White Lily Cookie: “Leave them alone! You’ve already done too much damage to them! You’ll have to go through us to get them first!”

Pure Vanilla Cookie: “So true. We won’t let you bring further torment to them!”

Gingerbrave: “Yeah, Y/N Cookie is our friend and if you mess with them, you mess with all of us!”

Shadow Milk Cookie: “Fine! Have it your way! I’ll get my hands on them in the end! Just you wait!”

You were curled up near a tree as the cookies fought, shaking with a thousand yard stare.

Was it..all a lie? He talked just like your partner, behaved just like them….

What was even true about that anymore….

[starlight727]

A little gift

Shadow Milk Cookie x reader fic (Chapter 2 - Theater of Lies)

Part 1 (you are here)

Part 2

Part 3 (coming soon)

You and the Brave Gang, Pure Vanilla, White Lily and Elder Faerie were all making your way to the HUGE theater that Shadow Milk had set up after escaping from the Silver Tree. The stage was beautifully and masterfully decorated, every detail of it was perfect, just what Shadow Milk was looking for in the stage that would help depict his side of the story, the story about the day the Beasts got sealed in the tree sooo unfairly.

When everyone reached the stage, you all had a couple of minutes to sit back, relax and get comfortable before the show started. Everyone stayed alert for any possible surprise attacks from the Jester, but you decided to sit down and wait instead. Out of everyone in the team, you were the only one who was actually interested in the show and learning about Shadow Milk more, perhaps you were having some... feelings after you two first met when he broke out of the Tree. His whole demeanor caught your attention and you couldn't help but stare in awe at him, he definitely noticed this and seemed to smile at you, something that made your heart jump in shock and excitement!

You seemed to smile at the memory of the encounter, it was like you were in a trance, the others noticed this and came closer to you to ask.

"Hey Y/N Cookie, what's got you smiling like that?" asked Strawberry Cookie

"Yeah, you look unusually happy despite everything that's going on right now." added Wizard Cookie. Their questions made you snapped out of your thoughts.

"Wha-? Oh! Sorry guys, I was just thinking about something funny, that's all!" you answered with a nervous chuckle.

"Hmm, alright but be careful, we have to stay alert, we don't know what that weird clown has in store for us" Wizard replied.

His response made you feel upset a bit, it made you wanna correct him by telling him the name and actual role of the Beast of Deceit. Almost as if... you were defending him... ok no, this is going too far, you have to calm yourself before you do anything stupid, so you keep your thoughts to yourself and close your mouth.

You hear circus music coming from the theater, something that made everyone jump a bit, everyone was so on edge, but you weren't, you were getting excited because the show was about to start! The lights dimmed and a spotlight aimed at the theater curtains. Shadow Milk Cookie presented himself and a round of applause could be heard from different directions, even you were clapping and cheering for him! Your friends could tell there was something wrong with you.

After the first act of the play ended and the stage curtains closed, everyone was preparing for the next act, they were feeling anxious and a bit impatient. You, on the other hand, were walking around in one spot, thinking about how fun and exciting the show was. It made you unable to stop thinking about Shadow Milk Cookie, how funny and clever he is, how smart and talented and... handsome and dreamy and charming and... WHOA OK!! Getting a little too deep in thought there, better slow down before someone notices you swooning and sighing over the jester you were supposed to help take down.

But as you stopped those thoughts from taking over your mind, you noticed something moving in the corner of your eye. You looked over to the left and saw a jester-hatted jack-in-the-box puppet waving at you and signaling you to come over to where it was. You made sure no one was watching you and made your way there. When you got close to the puppet, it greeted you with a bow, which made you bow back and chuckle a bit, the puppet giggled with one hand on its mouth and another behind its back in response.

"Ok, I'm here, did you want to tell me something?" you asked curiously.

Then the puppet rummaged in its box and pulled out a soft black and blue jester hat with blueberry bells on its tips, just for you. You gasped quietly as to not alert your team, then you took the hat.

"Is this for me?" you asked, and the puppet nodded in agreement.

"Aww, thank you, little puppet!" you answered as you put on the hat.

It was a perfect fit, and it smelled like something... it smelled like... blueberry milk! The scented hat put you in a calm mood as you enjoyed the smell and sighed deeply.

You wanted to show your gratitude to the puppet, so after checking that nobody was watching you, you leaned over and gave a tender little kiss on its forehead. The puppet was surprised by your gentle action and pulled its hat over its flustered face to cover it, you giggled at the action and the puppet slowly hid in its box afterwards.

"Aw, don't worry, it's ok!" you said softly as you cupped the puppet's cheeks and gently nuzzled its head.

A few moments later, the stage curtains were lit up by a spotlight, the next act was starting soon!

"Oh, the show's about to start again!" you said, looking at the stage.

"It was so nice meeting you, little puppet, and thank you so much for the gift, bye!" you waved goodbye as you walked closer to your team, the puppet waving back as you left, you thought you saw it sigh sadly, but Gingerbrave stopped you from asking yourself if it actually did that.

"Whoa, cool hat Y/N Cookie!" said Gingerbrave excitedly.

"Oh, uhh, thanks!" you said in a calm tone, hoping no one would ask you where you got it from.

"Say, where did you get it?" of course it had to be Wizard Cookie who asked.

"I... found it. On the floor. I thought it was cool so I... decided to take it with me." you answered with a nervous chuckle.

But before Wizard could ask more questions on it, a thundering and charismatic voice resonated through the land.

"Ok, my dear audience!! Everyone get back to your seats and STAY QUIET, for the show is about to begin~!" said Shadow Milk Cookie after hearing the 3 Cookies talking while he made preparations for the show. Everyone just stayed silent afterwards, thank the stars.

Although, he noticed you wearing the hat that puppet gave you. Little did you know that he was disguised as that very same puppet! He did it because after your first meeting, he couldn't help but feel attached to you, a Cookie who showed no signs of fear and cowardice when he returned, it intrigued him. He wanted to know more about you and your nature, so he turned himself into the jack-in-the-box puppet you met and called you over. He bowed, saw you chuckle and bow (which made him blush and genuinely smile a bit, but luckily for him, the puppet form hid that), gave you the hat, saw how happy you were, and felt your kiss on his forehead and your gentle touch on his cheeks (he felt shocked from all of this, feeling his face burn from all the sudden affection, the soft look in your eyes made him feel like he was melting inside, he found himself enjoying this so much).

He remembered all of that from just looking at you with that silly hat, including the part when you left... He had never felt like this before, it all felt new to him after being imprisoned in the Tree for so long, he hasn't felt like this since before he got corrupted... it felt amazing... and comforting. When you waved goodbye and left, he couldn't help himself. He felt sad, lonely, like a string that was holding you two together was cut off so abruptly that it hurt him, he yearned for your voice, your touch, your whole self, he wanted... no... he needed you.

He sighed loudly, which made his audience question in their heads why he did that. He caught their confused looks, gasped silently, cleared his throat and composed himself. Now was not the time to be sappy, he had a show to put on, and by the stars he was gonna put on a captivating one. Maybe, after everything ends, and he finally gains his freedom by killing Elder Faerie, then maybe... he could reunite with you again... only time will tell.

[merbear25]

I responded to this asking what gender you wanted the reader, but didn't get a response! Because of that, I went for gender neutral, so I hope that's alright 😊 Hope you like it! 💜🧡

He’d always seen you as attractive but didn’t see the rush in securing any labels. It was a game of cat and mouse to an extent, one which both of you were quite fond of. Being the tease that you were, you knew how to get a rise out of him. Without even having been intimate yet, you had him bewitched.

CW: NSFW, MDNI, gn!reader, voyeurism, separate masturbation

Just can’t look away (Shanks)

The chase was something to be savored. At least that was what both of your actions alluded to. Building tension only heightened the sensations through lingering touches and gazes, one of which would often find their way into his dreams.

His imagination would get the better of him, and nighttime was when his fantasies ran the most rampant. Stallions mounted by the heads of that night’s indulgences, galloping into the scenery of mountains shifting into shapes of you and him. The twisting forms of your bodies entwining under the silver moon and twinkling stars had his heart racing, and the way you called out to him in a voice that carried over the rolling hills in the distance had him at the brink of climax.

A crashing wave against the ship jolted him awake. The disorientated red haired man groaned in protest from being so rudely interrupted. Tossing and turning, chasing the dream that was. No matter how much he tried it was gone. With a grumble, he got out of bed and sluggishly made his way to the kitchen, thinking a warm glass of milk might help ease his mind.

Even with the sleep in his eyes, there was no mistaking the light illuminating from behind your door.

“What are you doing up at this hour?” He murmured to himself.

Without thinking he nudged the door open. The sight of you on your bed, utterly lost in the pleasure you were bestowing upon yourself, jolted him awake. The door was left ajar to allow his wandering eyes to soak in the beauty splayed out just beyond the threshold.

Your hands knew your body better than anyone else. The softness of your skin and hushed moans passing your lips: shame weighed heavily on his shoulders as his attraction to you became increasingly difficult to ignore.

You were absolutely divine and you were right there, just within reach but he wouldn’t dare cross the line any further. Unable to get any closer, and yet more than willing to give into self-satisfaction, his hand gripped his aching need for you over his pajama bottoms.

He bit his lower lip in a failed attempt at gasping from the instant gratification of holding himself in his hand. Luckily, the waves climbing the sides of the ship drowned out any noise he made. However, they covered up any you were making as well.

The strain of making out your lustful enjoyment of self-pleasure nearly forced him to barge into your room, but because of the raging sea offering a silencer, you weren’t shy—cries out to whomever you pictured being there to guide you through your climax, Shanks only hoped it was of him.

Tugging and stroking more frantically at the sight of your rutting your hips, he began panting from his own rising desire for you, to feel you entirely. You wanted more, so much more and he could give it to you. The flames of his passion made him reckless.

His hand knocked against the wooden door one too many times. Caught up in his own dash toward the finish line, he nearly gave himself away when he saw you stirring. Pulling away from the sliver of light casting on his face, his presence was casted back into the shadows as your legs revealed your softened expression.

Your chest rose and fell more and more quickly. He timed his strokes with yours to create a false shared moment of bliss. The way your body trembled, the pace of your self-indulgence picking up, and your slacked jaw: you were teetering on the edge, and watching you work yourself in such a way brought him right alongside you.

“Cum for me, baby,” he groaned under his breath.

The bucking of your hips as you pushed yourself over into the inferno over the hot embers of ecstasy gave him far more pleasure than his dreams of you ever could. You placed your hand over your mouth as you cried out for someone, not sharing with the world who was stalking your fantasies.

Shanks couldn’t help himself. He spilled every drop of his need for you into his shaky hand as he moaned your name as quietly as his rugged voice allowed.

His pants grew steady. His eyes stayed locked on you, roaming over the afterglow on your succulent body. Your fingers lingered on your spasming form, but the heaviness in your limbs were calling for you to drift off to sleep.

With your light switched off, he was left alone in the completely darkened hallway. The pent-up want for you seeped into his hand, yearning to have coated your flesh instead of his own. Shame danced with fervor that carried him into the remainder of the night with dreamless rest.

The morning was graced with calm waters. That soft orange glow from the sun illuminated your most delicate features.

“You look well rested.” Shanks leaned in.

“I’m not a morning person, you know that,” you yawned.

“Yeah, you say that and yet you look radiant.” That smooth voice of his made you flustered. Unbeknownst to you, Shanks was recalling the state of you ravaging yourself. “But then again, I can’t think of a time when you didn’t look stunning.”

You attempted to hide the smile tugging at your lips, which gave him hope that perhaps you’d be interested in having a partner visit your bedroom some time soon.

[phoenix-bleh]

someone requested a vampire shadow milk cookie with hypnotism so here it is

warnings: Might be a little suggestive

Obviously you’re only gonna be seeing him at night he’ll burn up in the sun.

He probably finds you walking alone at night and he stalks behind you for a little bit. It’s been awhile since he’s had a good meal.

You do notice someone following you so you turn to look behind you but no one’s there. When you turn back around he’s standing right in front of you.

You stare at him as he bows to you a little he than gently takes your hand and gives it a small peck.

“Salutations, what’s a lovely cookie like yourself roaming around here at night?”

He asked you and you pulled your hand back and stared at him while he straightens his posture.

“Um, I just lost my way back home”

He told you he could help you and you told him the little town you lived in. He told you the directions to where the town was. You were grateful and thanked him.

Before you could start your way back home he grabbed your hand and turned you around.

“Don’t I get something in return for helping you?”

He smiled at you and you looked at him nervously. You noticed a glint in his eyes when he was looking at you. You nervously asked him what he might needed in return.

“oh, not much my dear~”

He slowly brought his hand up to your neck.

“Im sure you won’t mind if I take a little bite.”

You saw his grin and noticed he had a pair of fangs. You put two and two together and finally realized exactly what he wanted from you.

He could sense the panic building up in your body and he knew you weren’t willingly accept.

He grabbed your face with his other hand and made you look at him. You saw his eyes glow and you couldn’t bring yourself to look away.

You felt dizzy and you didn’t have much control over your mind anymore. You didn’t notice he went up behind you until you felt him grab your shoulders from behind.

You didn’t have much thought, not like you could, and you slowly fell limp in his hold. He tilted your head to the side a little and finally bit into your neck.

You gasped and winced in pain as you felt his sharp fangs pierce into your skin. Everything started turning blurry and black spots started forming in your vision.

He pulled away and wiped his lips. You fully went limp and everything turned black as you dropped onto the ground.

When you woke up again you tried bringing yourself up. You felt way more weak than you used to. You then noticed that you were placed right at the entrance of your town.

Part 2 here

[uwukillmenowowo]

Hi! I saw that you wrote Cookie Run Kingdom and I LOVED the story Curiosity! When you have time, maybe you can continue it? And take your time, no need to rush! ✨✨💙🩵💙🩵:3

IVE HAD TO REWRITE THIS FOUR WHOLE TIMES BECAUSE IT NEVER SAVED!

HOLY FUCK I'M ACTUALLY MAD NOW BECAUSE I HAVE TO KEEP CHANGING STORYLINES SINCE I CAN'T REMMEBER THEM

(ง╥̃ ⏥╥̃)ง

Curiosity Pt. 2

[PLATONIC]

(Parent! Elder Fairie Cookie X Reader X Parental! Beast Cookies)

(Slight White Lily X Reader)

Notes:

Reader will be Non-binary

After the battle, you started questioning not only yourself. But your father too

I kinda didn't know what I was doing here so sorry if it's short lol

;w;

How did the beasts know you? Did your father know? how come you didn't? Why can't you remember what happened during your childhood?

{Second POV}

~~~~~

You were extremely happy for White Lily when your father threw a celebration party for her. The other Faeries who didn't accept her before, accepted her now. Her party so far was going great.

But after the first three months you started feeling... off...

This wasn't like the other times. Normally you would be by either your father's side or the side of whoever the party was for.

But after the battle, you just couldn't shake that strange feeling of remembrance. You don't remember ever meeting the beasts. So how they know your name is.... quite concerning.

Did your father know about this? What about the other Faerie Cookies?

Going off on your own, you walked and walked until you were at the entrance of the kingdom. You knew that leaving a party without telling anyone is disrespectful but you just need the alone time.

Walking out of the kingdom, you made your way a bit further from the kingdom. You just couldn't shake your thoughts off the fight.

The beasts knew your name and said that your voice was familiar. How they knew you, you have no clue. You were scared, nervous, concerned.

Too many emotions at once.

You walked and walked until you made it to the 'Misty Peaks' as your Father called it. He said that it used to be the home of one of the beasts before they perished.

You used to come here a lot as a kid. The height of the peaks granted me a full view of the kingdom, but since it was normally pretty far, you would only come here once every now and again.

You made it to the top of the peaks and took a seat. Taking a breath of the high altitude air, you started to feel at peace.

Yet at the same time... A hint of familiarity... You've never felt this the last time you were here. So what's different..?

You felt a chill run down your spine as you looked around. Only to see no one there. You tried to go back down, but suddenly, you found yourself surrounded by mist. You panicked and tried to run downwards, but it only ended up with you tripping and falling the rest of the way down the mountain.

Meanwhile, from behind her seal, the former Wheat Cookie of Volition tisked in frustration. She was saving the power (Unlike Shadow Milk Cookie) that slowly seeped out for that moment. Now it was wasted.

Back to you, who groaned heavily. Your dough landed on a sharp crystal rock and now you started bleeding. You gasped in pain before you started to use your magic to heal yourself.

Yes, you knew magic. One time you fell into the river when trying to look at the pixies, you scrapped your knee on the riverbed and your father was worried sick. He made you learn healing magic so that you don't have to endue pain for so long.

Slowly, you felt your dough getting better and crispier. You sighed in relief and started to head home.

When you got back, you saw that everyone was just as lively for White Lily's party as when you left. No one had practically realized that you had left in the first place.

All excpet one.

You were hanging by the silver tree, gazing at it and the vines that blocked the seal. "[Reader] Cookie? Is everything okay?" You flinched and turned around. "W-White Lily Cookie! What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be partying?" "Eheh~ I could say the same to you" White Lily giggled and you could feel your dough warming up.

"So... what's up?" You asked, rubbing the back of your neck. "Well. Everyone is warming up to me now. But it's already been a few months. I'm kind of shocked that parties last so long." White Lily stood by my side as we both gazed downwards into the clear river below. "Yeah. We do love our parties." I chuckled.

White Lily and I then just started to talk about the party and how we were getting tired of the loudness.

'Perhaps it was better to ignore that for now. The party is for White Lily.' You thought ignorantly as continued to talk with the cookie beside you.

Meanwhile, the beasts from beyond the seal glared at White Lily Cookie. Ignorance may be bliss but this was unprecedented. Especially for you.

The beasts glared harder at White Lily Cookie. They needed to get you away from her. So that you can remember your life with them. You don't belong with them! You're one of the beasts! it's no fair that those... faeries... can keep al of you to themselves.

They lost you once.

They won't lose you again...

My train of thought went "Bye Bye" Mario style

Soo I'm kinda just not- feeling the motivation rn

T_T

[justice4gyeongsu]

━━━ 'CHAPTER EIGHT' [WHEN DAWN BREAKS]

SYNOPSIS ➢ if only there was an on and off switch to your mind, that way, no one gets hurt.

PAIRING ➢ lee suhyeok x male!reader

AU ➢ enemies-to-lovers au!

CONTENT WARNING ➢ this chapter contains; flashbacks, near death experience, alot of angst, loneliness, depression, embarrassment, some fluff, exclusion, reoccuring ptsd, mentions of gore, blood, cannibalism [let me know if i missed any!]

NEXT | PREVIOUS

you quicken your pace, your heart racing as you scan the windows for a safe haven. the moon casts eerie shadows on the walls, making you feel like you're being watched. you can still hear the muffled voices of your peers, begging you to return, but you press on. as you turn a corner, you spot a door slightly ajar. you push it open slowly, hoping to find solace inside. the room is dimly lit, with only a sliver of moonlight illuminating the space. you step inside, closing the door behind you, and lean against it to catch your breath. but your reprieve is short-lived. you hear the sound of shuffling footsteps outside, growing louder. the two zombies you saw earlier are heading straight for you. you frantically scan the room for an escape or a place to hide, but there's nowhere to go.

suddenly, you remember the flashbacks that have been haunting you. the feeling of helplessness, the fear of being trapped. it's all coming back. you're paralyzed with fear, unable to move or speak. the zombies reach the door, their moans growing louder as they try to push their way in. you're trapped, alone and defenseless. and then, just as suddenly as they started, the moans stop. the zombies move on, unaware of your presence. you're left standing there, shaking and gasping for breath, and you realize they cant see you.

you know you need to find something to protect yourself with, but your past continues to haunt you, threatening to consume you at every turn. you turn to the corner of the room to see someone looming in the darkness, you back away slowly. you squint your eyes, trying to be as cautious as possible if its a zombie. but the person is as still as the wind. just, standing. you shake your head before looking again and seeing the person is gone, “what the fuck..?” you grip onto your hair as you lean downwards trying to muster any sanity you had left. you looked around the room and tried your best to see. you walked over to the door you came from and turned on the light switch. you squinted while looking around now to see it was another room you had never been in.

you look to see an espresso maker, comfy chairs with round tables in the middle of them. “huh?” you ask aloud. looking around more to see milk and other foods squished on the floor with splatters of blood on the walls. you huff before realizing it was one of the teachers lounges. there was one per floor and you had never been inside one until now.

as you take in the scene, you notice a figure slumped in one of the comfy chairs, a cup of espresso still clutched in their hand. you approach cautiously, noticing the teacher's nameplate on the desk: "ms. myung". you remember her as the history teacher who always had a warm smile and a love for social justice. but now, her smile is frozen in a permanent grimace, her eyes cloudy and lifeless. you see a bite wound on her arm, and the espresso cup is still clutched in her hand, as if she was interrupted mid-sip.

you feel a pang of sadness and regret, wondering what happened to her. she had a slit in her throat, she wasn't bitten. was she alone when the outbreak occurred? did she try to find help? as you search the room, you find a small notebook hidden between the couch cushions. it appears to be ms. myung’s journal, detailing her experiences during the outbreak. you begin to flip through the pages, reading her frantic scribbles about the chaos and terror that unfolded. the last entry catches your eye: "i've barricaded myself in here, hoping to wait it out. but i can hear someone outside. oh god, i can hear them."

you realize that ms. myung didn't make it, and that you're now alone in the teacher's lounge. you take a deep breath, trying to shake off the feeling of unease. you know you need to keep moving, to find a way out of the school and into safety. but for now, you take a moment to honor ms. myung’s memory, and the sanctuary she tried to create in this small room.

as you finish reading the journal, you feel a sense of respect for ms. myung’s bravery. you decide to honor her memory by cleaning up the mess in the lounge. you start by carefully removing the broken cups and saucers from the tables, and then move on to wiping down the surfaces with a dirty apron you found on the floor. as you clean, you notice that the room is surprisingly peaceful, despite the chaos that unfolded prior. you find yourself feeling a sense of calm wash over you, as if ms. myung’s spirit is still present, watching over you. you continue cleaning, scrubbing the bloodstains from the walls and sweeping up the debris. as you work, you start to feel a sense of purpose, like you're taking control of your situation.

once the room is tidy, you take a step back to admire your handiwork. the lounge looks almost like it did before the outbreak, except for the eerie silence. you notice a small plant on the windowsill, still alive and green despite the chaos. you smile, feeling a sense of hope. just then, you hear a faint noise coming from the hallway. it's soft at first, but grows louder. you freeze, wondering if it's another survivor, or something more sinister. you slowly approach the door, listening intently. the noise sounds like footsteps, heavy and deliberate. your heart starts racing as you wonder who, or what, is coming your way.

as you wait in silence, your senses heightened, the footsteps grow louder and closer. you can tell that whoever or whatever is making the noise is trying to be stealthy, but the creaking of the old school's floors beneath their feet gives them away. your heart is racing, and your mind is flooded with worst-case scenarios. suddenly, the footsteps stop right outside the door. you hold your breath, expecting the door to burst open at any moment. but instead, there's a pause. you wonder if whoever it is has noticed the tidy room and is suspicious.

the silence is oppressive, and you find yourself straining to hear any sound. that's when you notice the smell of ms. myung's decomposing body has grown stronger, and you realize that it might give away your hiding spot. you try to hold your breath, hoping that the smell won't waft out into the hallway and alert whoever is on the other side of the door. your heart is racing, and your muscles are tense, ready to spring into action if necessary. just as you're starting to think that the person on the other side of the door has given up and left, you hear a faint scratching sound. it's soft at first, but grows louder, and you realize that someone is trying to pick the lock. your heart sinks, and you wonder if you'll be able to escape.

as the scratching sound continues, you prepare yourself for the worst. but then, suddenly, it stops. you hear footsteps walking away from the door, growing fainter with each passing moment.

you let out a sigh of relief, realizing that whoever it was has given up and left. you wait for a few moments to ensure they're really gone, then slowly emerge from under the table. as you stretch your cramped limbs, you can't help but feel a wave of exhaustion wash over you. the adrenaline that had been pumping through your veins just moments before begins to wear off, leaving you feeling drained. you look around the dark room, trying to decide what to do next. but as you glance at the comfortable-looking couch, you can't resist the temptation to lie down and rest. you collapse onto the couch, feeling the soft cushions envelop you. despite the eerie silence and the smell of ms. myung's body, you find yourself drifting off to sleep.

as you succumb to exhaustion, you're vaguely aware of the sound of footsteps echoing in the distance. but they're faint, and you're too tired to care. you fall into a deep sleep, surrounded by the eerie silence of the abandoned school.

you sleep fitfully, haunted by dreams of the outbreak and the chaos that ensued. but it's not the nightmares that wake you up - it's the smell. ms. myung's body has started to decompose rapidly, and the stench is overwhelming. you try to ignore it, but it's no use. the smell is so potent that it's making your eyes water and your stomach churn. you know you have to do something. you can't stay in the room with the body any longer. but what can you do? you can't just leave it here, and you can't bury it. the school is surrounded by zombies, and you can't risk going outside.

as you ponder your options, you look around the room frantically. that's when you notice the window. it's open, and you can see the ground below. it's a long way down, but you know it's your only option. with a sense of grim determination, you approach ms. myung's body. you try not to look at her face, but you can't help it. her eyes are cloudy and unfocused, and her skin is gray and decaying. you take a deep breath and grab her arms, trying to lift her up. she's heavier than you expected, but you manage to hoist her up and drag her to the window. as you look out the window, you see the zombies shambling around below. you know that's where ms. myung's body will end up.

with a sense of sadness and regret, you push her body out the window. you hear a thud as she hits the ground, and then the zombies close in. you watch in horror as they devour her body, feeling a sense of guilt and responsibility. you know you had to do it, but that doesn't make it any easier. as you turn away from the window, you realize that the room is quiet once again. the smell is still there, but it's not as overpowering as it was before. you take a deep breath and try to calm down, knowing that you have to keep moving forward. you can't stay here forever, and you need to find a way out of the school.

as the darkness closes in around you, the shadows on the walls seem to grow longer and more menacing. you can't shake the image of ms. myung's body being devoured by the zombies, her eyes frozen in a permanent scream. you feel a wave of grief wash over you, and before you know it, you're sobbing uncontrollably. you collapse onto the couch, burying your face in the cushions as you cry. the thought of your dad, who you lost in the outbreak, comes flooding back. you remember the way he smiled, the way he laughed. you miss him so much, and the pain feels like it's tearing you apart. as you sob, you start to feel like your dad is haunting you. you imagine him standing in front of you, his eyes disappointed and sad. you feel like you've let him down, like you should have been able to protect him. you remember the last time you saw him. the guilt and grief are overwhelming, and you cry until you're exhausted. your body shakes, your throat hurts, and your eyes feel raw. finally, you drift off to sleep, haunted by the memory of your dad and the trauma of the past few days.

as you sleep, you're tormented by nightmares. you dream of your dad, of ms. myung, and of the zombies that are still out there, waiting for you. you dream of being chased, of being trapped, and of being unable to escape. you wake up periodically, gasping for breath, your heart racing with fear. but eventually, you fall into a deep, troubled sleep, haunted by the memories of what you've lost once again.

you wake up to an eerie silence, the only sound being the creaking of the old school's wooden floorboards. you're shivering, despite the warmth of the summer morning. your body aches all over, but your injured shoulder hurts the most. you try to move it, but a sharp pain shoots through your arm, making you wince. as you sit up, you notice that the room is still dark, the only light coming from a small crack in the curtains. you try to stand up, but your legs feel like jelly. you're not sure if it's from the lack of food, the pain, or the trauma of the past couple of hours.

you look around the room, trying to remember where you are and what happened. the memories come flooding back, and you feel a wave of grief wash over you. you remember ms. myung's body, your dad's sacrifice, and your peers you had left the night prior. you try to shake off the memories and focus on your current situation. you need to find food, water, and medical supplies for your shoulder. you need to keep moving and find a way out of the school, your mind starts to wander. you think about your classmates, the ones you left behind when you fled the school. you regret leaving them, wondering if they're still alive, if they're okay.

but as you think about it more, you realize that you weren't ready to go back. you needed to leave the school, to get away from the chaos and the danger. you needed to save yourself, even if it meant leaving others that tested your limits behind. you think about how you were feeling before the outbreak, how trapped and suffocated you felt. you were struggling in school, struggling with your own personal demons. and then the outbreak happened, and everything changed. you realize that maybe, just maybe, the outbreak was your chance to escape, to start anew. but at what cost? you think about your dad, about ms. myung, about all the others who didn't make it. your mind is a jumble of emotions, regrets, and what-ifs. you're not sure what's coming your way, but you know you need to be ready. you take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down. you need to be strong, need to be prepared. you can't change the past, but you can try to survive the present. and maybe, just maybe, you can find a way to make a better future.

you slowly make your way to the teachers' cabinets, hoping to find some food or supplies. as you open the first cabinet, you're met with a disappointing sight. the shelves are bare, except for a few empty wrappers and crumbs. it looks like someone else had the same idea and cleaned out the cabinet.

you move on to the next cabinet, but it's the same story. either someone else got there first, or the teachers didn't stock up on much food. you're starting to lose hope, your stomach growling with hunger. as you open the third cabinet, you notice something shiny on the top shelf. you reach up and grab it, hoping it's a can of food or a bottle of water. but instead, it's a set of keys. you examine the keys, wondering what they unlock. are they for the school doors? the teachers' offices? or something else entirely? you put the keys in your pocket, thinking they might come in handy later. as you continue to search the cabinets, you find a few scraps of food, but it's not much. a stale granola bar, a few crackers, and a half-empty bottle of water. you take the food and drink, grateful for anything at this point. as you eat and drink, you think about the keys and what they might unlock. could they lead you to safety? or just more danger?

examining the keys more closely, your heart skips a beat as you see a car key among them. it's a silver key with a familiar logo on it - the logo of the nurses car. you feel a surge of hope and excitement. could this be the key to your nurse’s car? could the car still be parked outside, waiting for you to escape? if you can get to the car, you might have a chance to escape the school and find safety. you look around the room again, this time with a sense of purpose. you need to find out if the car is still outside, and if it's safe to get to. you approach the window and carefully peer out, scanning the parking lot for any signs of danger. as you look out the window, you see the parking lot is eerily quiet. there are a few cars parked, but no signs of movement. you see the nurse’s car, parked in its usual spot, looking untouched. your heart races with excitement and fear. you know you have to try and get to the car, but you're not sure what dangers lie ahead.

you decide to leave the classroom and make a quiet dash for the car. you carefully open the door and peer out into the hallway, listening for any signs of danger. the coast seems clear, so you step out into the hallway, trying to make as little noise as possible. as you walk, your heart is racing with anticipation. you're not sure what you'll find outside, or if you'll make it to the car without being seen. just as you're approaching the stairs, you accidentally drop the keys. they clatter loudly on the floor, echoing down the hallway.

you freeze, holding your breath. you know you've made a mistake. at first, there's silence. but then, you hear the unmistakable shuffling footsteps of zombies. they've heard the noise, and they're coming for you. you see two zombies emerge from a classroom to your left, their eyes fixed on you. they're fast-moving, and they're getting closer. you know you have to act fast. you quickly pick up the keys and start to move down the hallway, trying to find a side room or a hiding place. but the zombies are getting closer, and you know you won't be able to outrun them for much longer.

you quickly turn around and head down the stairs, your heart racing with fear. you can hear them as their footsteps echoing off the walls while they give chase. you take the stairs two at a time, your eyes fixed on the landing below. you can't afford to slip and fall now. as you reach the bottom of the stairs, you see the main hallway stretching out before you. it's empty and silent, but you know that won't last for long.

you start to run, your feet pounding the floor as you sprint down the hallway. you can hear the zombies behind you, their groans and footsteps getting closer and closer. you pass by the school office, the library, each one a reminder of the life you once knew. but now, they're just empty rooms, devoid of life and hope. you keep running, your eyes fixed on the front doors. you can see the sunlight streaming in through the windows, and you know that freedom is just a few feet away. but as you approach the doors, you hear the zombies closing in. their arms outstretched and their mouths open wide.

you burst through the doors and out into the sunlight, gasping for air. you don't dare look back, continuing to run, your eyes fixed on the parking lot and the safety of the silver car. as you emerge from the school, you're greeted by a sea of undead faces. every single zombie outside the school turns their attention towards you, their eyes fixed on you with a hungry gleam. you see zombies of all shapes and sizes, their bodies twisted and distorted by the infection. some are slow-moving, while others are faster and more agile. you start to run, your feet pounding the pavement as you sprint towards the parking lot. but with every step, you feel like you're being pulled into a nightmare.

the zombies are closing in on you from all sides, their moans and groans growing louder and more intense. you see a zombie teacher, her eyes cloudy and unfocused, reaching out for you with a grasping hand. you see a zombie student, his face twisted in a snarl, running towards you with an unnatural gait. you see zombies everywhere, their numbers seemingly endless. you keep running, your heart racing with fear. you can't afford to look back, can't afford to hesitate. you have to keep moving, no matter what.

approaching the parking lot, you see the nurse’s car waiting for you, its doors unlocked and its engine ready to roar to life. but between you and the car is a sea of undead, their arms outstretched and their mouths open wide. you take a deep breath and keep running, your eyes fixed on the car. you're almost there. just a few more feet. just a few more seconds.

you reach the car and grab the door handle, yanking it open with a surge of adrenaline. you dive inside, slamming the door shut behind you and locking it just as a zombie is about to grab you. you're safe, for the moment. you're trapped, but you're alive. you look around, taking stock of your surroundings. the car is just as your. you see the keys still in the ignition, and you turn them, starting the engine. the car roars to life, and you feel a surge of power and freedom. you put it in gear and start to move, but you're surrounded by zombies. they're everywhere, their faces pressed against the windows, their arms reaching out for you.

you inch forward, trying to navigate through the sea of undead. they're slow-moving, but there are so many of them. you're not sure if you'll be able to make it out alive. as you move, you hear the zombies scratching and clawing at the car. you see them trying to get in, trying to get to you. you know you can't let them. you keep moving, slowly but surely. you're trying to find a way out, trying to find a way to safety. but for now, you're trapped in this car, surrounded by the undead.

“fuck!” you curse, as you try to move the car, you realize that it's not going anywhere. the zombies are piling up underneath the car, their bodies stacking up like a gruesome barricade. the car starts to lift off the ground, its tires spinning futilely as it tries to gain traction. you're trapped, surrounded by the undead and unable to escape. the car is stuck, lifted off the ground by the sheer weight of the zombies. you're starting to feel a sense of panic, wondering how you'll get out of this situation. the zombies keep coming, piling up underneath the car and making it harder and harder to escape. you see them crawling under the car, their arms reaching up for you like grasping fingers.

you try to rock the car back and forth, hoping to dislodge the zombies and get some traction. but it's no use - there are too many of them, and the car is stuck fast. you're starting to feel a sense of desperation, wondering if you'll ever escape. the zombies are closing in, their moans and groans growing louder and more intense. you know you have to think fast, or you'll be trapped forever. as you look around, you see that the zombies are starting to climb onto the car, their fingers scratching at the windows and doors. you know you have to act fast, or you'll be overwhelmed.

you start to frantically search the car for anything that can help you escape. you check the glove compartment, the center console, but there's nothing that can help you. as you're searching, the car starts to sway back and forth. the zombies are pushing against it, trying to tip it over. you hear the metal creaking and groaning under the pressure. you grab onto the door handle to steady yourself as the car rocks violently. you see the zombies outside, their faces twisted in a snarl as they push against the car. the car's tires screech in protest as it's pushed from side to side. you're starting to feel a sense of motion sickness, your stomach lurching with each sway.

you try to hold on, but it's getting harder and harder. the zombies are relentless, pushing and pushing until the car is teetering on two wheels. you're not sure how much longer the car can take it. you're starting to feel a sense of dread, wondering if you'll be trapped inside when it finally tips over.

you close your eyes and start to pray, begging for a miracle. you're not sure if anyone is listening, but you're desperate for a way out.

"please, god, help me," you whisper, your voice shaking with fear. "i don't want to die like this. i don't want to be trapped in this car with these...things." you feel a sense of desperation wash over you as the car continues to sway. you're running out of time, and you know it. "please, just get me out of here," you pray, your eyes squeezed shut. "i'll do anything. just don't let me die like this."

as you pray, you feel a sense of calm wash over you. it's a small sense of peace, but it's enough to give you hope. you open your eyes and look around, trying to think of a new plan. the zombies are still pushing against the car, but you notice something that stops your train of thought. you hear a muffled, loud voice echoing through the air. it's hard to make out what the voice is saying, but it's loud enough to get the zombies' attention. the undead horde suddenly stops pushing against the car and turns towards the source of the noise. they begin to run, their slow, shuffling gait quickly turning into a frantic sprint.

you follow their gaze and see that they're running towards the school's outside speakers, which are mounted on the walls and poles around the campus. the voice is coming from the speakers, and it's getting louder by the second.

as you crack open the window, the voice on the intercom grows louder, its words becoming clearer. your heart skips a beat as you tune in to the message. "...we'll come get you, so stay put. got it?" suhyeok's voice echoes through the air, sending a shiver down your spine. your pulse quickens at the sound of his voice, and you can't help but wonder - is he talking to you? is he really coming to save you?

"cheongsan-ah," suhyeok continues, his tone laced with a hint of desperation. "i know what you'll say, but we can't hear you here. so don't go anywhere. wait for us. you really can't go anywhere, okay?" you stifle a laugh, biting your lip to hold back the chuckle of disbelief. the situation is too absurd, too surreal. the harsh reality sets in, a cold dose of skepticism tempering your fragile hope. of course, suhyeok wouldn't go out of his way to find you. why would anyone bother to save you? you're not exactly the most important person in the world.

the bitter truth echoes in your mind: you're on your own, and you always have been. no one's coming to rescue you, no hero's going to swoop in and save the day. it's just you, alone and adrift in a sea of chaos. the thought stings, but it's a familiar ache. you've grown accustomed to relying only on yourself, to expecting nothing from others.

suhyeok's voice crackles through the speaker once more, his words trembling with emotion. "..y/n-ah.." your heart skips a beat as you hear your name, the sound sending

shivers down your spine. you instinctively look up at the speaker, as if expecting to see suhyeok standing there.

"im...im not sure..." he clears his throat, his voice laced with uncertainty. "im not sure if you can hear this. please, be safe." the whispered words are meant for himself, but you catch every one, and they pierce your heart like a gentle dagger. tears prick at the corners of your eyes, and you feel your body begin to shake.

"if you can hear me, i need you to meet us at the music room. we need you, come back." suhyeok's voice is stern, as if he's speaking directly in front of you. the words wrap around you like a warm embrace, and you feel a glimmer of hope ignite within. your hand tightens on the steering wheel as your body shakes with quiet sobs. the tears flow freely now, a mix of fear, relief, and longing streaming down your face.

suhyeok's voice echoes through the speakers once more, his words laced with concern. "don't leave by yourself, wherever you are, you should be with us."

you tilt your head back, allowing the tears to fall freely as his words wash over you. your gaze drifts towards the gate, mere meters away, beckoning like a lifeline. the zombies, still entranced by the speakers, claw and scratch at the metal, their mindless fury a stark contrast to the hope rising within you. someone, somehow, is broadcasting a message through the school's PA system, and it's creating a diversion. a spark of possibility ignites within you - maybe, just maybe, this is your chance to escape. you scan your surroundings, and your heart skips a beat as you realize the coast is clear. the zombies, entranced by the speakers, are oblivious to your presence. with a sense of determination, you prepare to make your move, the gate and potential freedom mere steps away.

hroryeong's voice chimes in, her tone laced with a gentle urgency. "y/n-ah, please come back, we can't lose anyone else. especially not you." as you listen, your eyes scan the surroundings, taking in the zombies' distraction and the potential escape route. but your mind begins to wander, and a flashback hits you like a wave. you remember suhyeok's bright, cheerful smile as you both walked home together. the memory is bittersweet, and your heart aches with a mix of emotions.

"fuck it..." you mutter to yourself, the words barely audible. the frustration, and longing all swirl together, and you feel a sense of resignation wash over you. but even as you say it, you know you can't give up. not yet. not when there's a glimmer of hope, no matter how small. you take a deep breath, steeling yourself for what's to come. with a deep breath, you burst into action, dashing out of the car and sprinting across the parking lot with a surge of adrenaline. the meditative music grows louder, its calming melody a stark contrast to the chaos around you. as you run, you risk a glance back, and a mix of relief and fear hits you. the zombies are still entranced by the speakers, their undead bodies clawing at the metal as if trying to silence the voice. they're not following you, but you know that could change at any moment.

you pump your arm harder, your heart racing with every step. the music seems to be leading you somewhere, but you're not sure where. all you know is that you have to keep moving, to find safety and answers. the pounding in your chest grows louder, echoing the music's steady beat, as you run for your life. you sprint towards the building's doors, the music growing louder with every step. as you approach, you see a group of survivors running around the corner of the building, their figures blurry and indistinct. you squint, trying to make out who they are, but your eyes can't quite focus. they're too far away, and your mind is racing with fear and adrenaline. not having time to linger, you bursted open the school doors and closed them behind you.

continuing, you pound the hallway floor with your feet, your heart racing with every step. you can still hear the music, and the sound of footsteps echoing ahead of you. you're determined to catch up to the group, to find safety and answers. as you reach the staircase, you take the steps two at a time, your legs pumping furiously. but as you hit the fifth step, your foot slips on a patch of polished floor. you feel yourself flying backwards, your arms windmilling wildly as you try to regain your balance.

but it's too late. you land hard on the step, the wind knocked out of you. you gasp for breath, your lungs burning as you try to suck in air. your head spins, and for a moment, you see stars. you lie there, dazed and disoriented, as the music continues to play and the footsteps grow fainter. you know you have to get up, to keep moving, but your body feels like lead. you're paralyzed, unable to move or breathe.

slowly, agonizingly slowly, your lungs start to work again. you drag in a ragged breath, and then another, your chest heaving with effort. you roll onto your side, using the handrail to pull yourself up to a sitting position. as you look up, you see a figure standing on the landing above you, looking down with a concerned expression. you try to speak, but your voice is barely a whisper. the figure starts to move towards you, and you realize, with a jolt of fear, that you don't know who it is.

soft words echoes in your mind as the figure reaches out a hand to help you up. but just as you're about to take it, you blink. and when you open your eyes again, the figure is gone. you're left sitting on the stairs, feeling bewildered and disoriented. but as you look up at the spot where the figure was standing, you can't shake the feeling that it was...familiar.

the face, the hair, the gentle smile...it all looked so much like the lady from your dream. the one who appeared to you that one time, her presence a comforting warmth in the darkness. and then it hits you - the lady looked like your mother. you feel a pang in your chest, a mix of emotions swirling together. you barely have any memories of your mother, just fragmented images and a deep sense of loss. but seeing that figure, even for just a moment...it brought it all flooding back. you sit there, frozen, as the music continues to play and the silence stretches out around you. you're not sure what to do, or where to go. all you know is that you saw something, someone, who made you feel seen and remembered. and now they're gone.

you shake off the feeling of unease and continue running up the staircase, your feet pounding the steps. you reach the top and push yourself forward, entering one of the hallways. as you look around, you see rows of classrooms and lockers, the familiar sights of a school. but something feels off. the silence is oppressive, and the shadows cast by the flickering fluorescent lights seem to twist and writhe on the walls. you start to move down the hallway, your eyes scanning the doors and windows. you're not sure what you're looking for, but you know you need to keep moving. the music is still playing, but it's fainter now, and you can't quite make out the words. you strain your ears, trying to pick up any sound that might lead you to the group.

you quicken your pace, your footsteps echoing off the walls. you're getting close, you can feel it.

you round another corner, your heart racing with anticipation. but as you hit the straightaway, you notice something's off. the music isnt playing. you slow to a stop, your ears straining to pick up any sound. and then, you hear it. the snarling, groaning, and shuffling footsteps of zombies. lots of them.

you spin around, and your blood runs cold. a giant horde of zombies is packed into the hallway, their eyes fixed on you. they're trying to run, but the hallway is too tight, and they're bottlenecked. the zombies are stacked up, their arms outstretched, their jaws open in a frenzy of hunger. you see the ones in the back climbing over the ones in the front, desperate to get to you. you're frozen in terror, your mind racing for a way out. but there's nowhere to go. the hallway is blocked, and the zombies are closing in. you take a step back, your eyes scanning the horde. turning to the leftyou see the music room door, but it's too far away. you'll never make it.

the zombies take another step closer, their snarls growing louder. you raise your hands, ready to defend yourself, but you know it's futile. you're surrounded, and you're running out of time.

just as all hope seems lost, you see a glimmer of salvation. suhyeok, namra, and wujin come running from the other end of the hallway, their faces set in determination. namra sees you first, and her eyes widen in alarm. "run!" she shouts, waving her arms wildly. time seems to slow down as you force your burning legs to move. you pump your arms and sprint towards the music room, the zombies mere feet behind. suhyeok sees you and rushes to the door, pushing namra and wujin inside. he holds the door open, his eyes locked on yours, and shouts your name.

"y/n-ah!" he yells, his voice echoing down the hallway. you're almost there, your legs screaming in protest. all you want to do is reach his arms, his arms that kept you safe. you can feel the zombies' hot breath on your neck, their fingers reaching out to grab you. with one final burst of energy, you launch yourself at the door, suhyeok pulling you inside just as the zombies are about to grab you. he slids the door shut with a slam behind you, leaning against it to block the horde. you collapse on the floor, gasping for breath, as suhyeok looks down at you with a mix of relief and aggravation.

suhyeok doesnt wait for you to catch your breath before he leans down and grips on your collared shirt and tightens it as he pulls you close, his eyes blazing. "how many times do i have to save you, dammit?" he shouts, his voice echoing off the music room walls. "stop being an idiot, and think." he shakes you slightly, his fingers digging into your shirt. "we're in this together, now. no more running off on your own!" everyone watches in silence, their faces somber, as suhyeok's words hang in the air. you feel a surge of emotions: guilt, shame, and a hint of defiance.

but as you look into suhyeok's eyes, you see the fear and worry etched there, and your defiance melts away. you nod, slowly, and suhyeok's grip relaxes. "alright, okay..," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "i won't leave again." suhyeok's expression softens, and he lets go of you. "please," he whispers back.

as you shakily stand up, you can't help but feel a wave of embarrassment wash over you. everyone's staring at you, their faces filled with a mix of relief and concern. "we're glad you're back," namra says, smiling weakly. "we thought you were dead, idiot," wujin adds, shaking his head. but before anyone else can speak, onjo steps forward, a scowl on his face. "what were you thinking, running off like that?" she demands, her voice low and stern. and then, without warning, she slaps your bad arm, making you wince in pain. "you could have gotten yourself killed," she scolds, her eyes blazing with worry. you feel a surge of tears prick at the corners of your eyes as you rub your sore arm. "i'm sorry," you mutter, looking down at your feet. cheongsan steps forward, his face tense. "onjo, that's enough," he says, his voice firm but calm. but onjo just shakes her head. "no, cheongsan, he needs to learn. we can't afford to lose anyone else. both of you need to learn.”

overwhelmed with emotion, you feel a gentle touch on your shoulder. you turn to see hroryeong standing there, a warm smile on her face. "i'm so glad you're back," she says, her voice trembling. before you can respond, she wraps her arms around you, pulling you into a gentle hug. you feel a lump form in your throat as you hug her back, tears of relief and gratitude streaming down your face. "i.. we were so worried," she whispers, her voice muffled against your shoulder.

you hesitantly pat he back, feeling a sense of comfort and safety in her embrace. the pain in your arm fades into the background as you savor the niceness of her hug. "i'm sorry," you whisper back, your voice shaking. "i won't leave again." hroryeong pulls back, her eyes shining with tears. "i know you won't," she says, smiling softly. "we're in this together."

the others watch, smiling, as you and hroryeong share a moment of tender connection. for a brief instant, the horrors of the zombie-infested school fade away, replaced by a sense of hope and unity. while you pull back from hroryeong's hug, you take a moment to look around the room. the music room is small, with chairs and music stands scattered about. but what catches your attention is who's not there.

"where's ms. park?" you ask, scanning the room again.

wujin’s expression turns grim. "we don't know.” you feel a pang of worry. ms. park was always the calm and collected one. if she's not here... "what about gyeongsu?" you ask, hoping against hope.

jimin shakes her head. "nayeon murdered him." your heart sinks. gyeongsu’s laughing face flashed in your eyes from when you were just talking yesterday. you stared frozen and in shock, you look around to see everyones glum expressions. “wait what?” you ask in disbelief. jimin steps forward, her eyes clouded with bitterness. "nayeon...she wiped that dead girl's leftover blood that was on the stick and onto the scratch on his hand. he got infected and she lied about doing it," she says, her voice hesitant. “namra called her out and she confessed to murdering him. she left and ms.. park went after her.” she finished with a tear falling from her eye.

"what do you mean?" you press, feeling a sense of unease. jimin takes a deep breath. you feel a chill run down your spine. "what do you mean he turned?" everyone stayed quiet as you couldnt believe what you were hearing, you're horrified. "nayeon did that?"

daesu nods. "fuck..” you say while you feel your heart ache, one of your new friends was gone. someone who made you comfortable, someone you wished you could go back and time and just tell him how much of a good friend he had been. not to you, but to everyone around him. he was a good person, why did that have to happen to him?

“ill kill her if i see her,” you sniffled while rubbing your eyes. the room falls silent, the weight of your words sinking in. nayeon's actions are unfathomable. and ms. park, always the protector, went after her, leaving the rest of you behind. “don't talk like that,” suhyeok speaks up with a shake of his head. “when you stoop to her level youre no better than she is.” he places a hand on your back. “lets just, take a minute and, take a breath.” he announces to everyone who nods.

hroryeong gently takes your arm, leading you to sit beside her. as you settle in, you're unaware of jimin's gaze fixed on you both from across the room, her eyes narrowed slightly as she closes the curtains. "how are we going to get to the roof?" hroryeong asks, her voice soft as she holds your arm. her sudden display of affection catches you off guard, making you feel a weird twist in your stomach. you try to focus on the question at hand, but it's difficult with suhyeok and jimin staring at you both. their attention makes you feel like you're under a microscope. "there are zombies out there," suhyeok says, his eyes scanning the room as if searching for an escape route. "let's just think this through for a minute."

the weight of their gazes still lingers, making you feel like you're the center of attention. you try to shake off the feeling, focusing on the task at hand: finding a way to the roof.

while you glance around the room, you can't help but feel a sense of comfort in the presence of your peers. you've missed them dearly, but the words to express it get stuck in your throat. hroryeong's hand tightens around your arm, pulling your attention back to her. she slowly stands up, her eyes fixed on something behind you. you follow her gaze, peeking over her shoulder to see what's caught her attention.

"hey, namra. what happened to your arm?" hroryeong asks, her voice trembling slightly. you try to see what's wrong with namra's arm, but from your seated position, it's out of sight. hroryeong's concern, however, is concerning. "i-its a bite mark, isn't it?" hroryeong's voice cracks as she asks the question, her eyes wide with worry.

namra's silence is deafening, her gaze fixed on her arm as if the answer lies there. cheongsan's reaction is swift and menacing, grabbing a music sheet holder and advancing towards namra with a threatening stride.the room erupts into chaos as everyone scrambles to get away from namra, but you remain frozen, your body unmoving like a statue. hroryeong tries to pull you away, but you resist, your feet rooted to the spot.

suhyeok steps forward, placing himself between cheongsan and namra. "it's not what it looks like," he says firmly, his eyes locked on cheongsan. cheongsan snarls, telling suhyeok to move away, but he refuses to budge. wujin stands beside him, a united front against cheongsan's aggression. "it's true," wujin chimes in. "a zombie didn't bite her." he says a single word, "gwinam," and cheongsan's face falters, her confidence wavering for a moment. the room holds its breath, waiting for cheongsan's next move.

"he bit her. it wasn't zombies," he finishes, his voice firm. the name "gwinam" crawls under your skin, making your legs buckle. you lose balance and plop down on the chair, your mind reeling. "w-who?" cheongsan asks, her voice laced with skepticism. "gwinam. the bully," suhyeok replies, his eyes flicking to you before returning to cheongsan. "it's true, i saw him. we all did." wujin chimes in, pointing to namra and himself.

"yoon gwinam?" cheongsan asks again, her voice incredulous. wujin nods his head, and cheongsan turns to namra for confirmation. "namra, did gwinam really bite you?" she asks, her voice firm but laced with a hint of doubt. you turn to look at namra, who nods slightly, her eyes downcast. you curse underneath your breath, the truth sinking in like a punch to the gut.

"fuck, there should be others alive then," you exclaim, a glimmer of hope sparking within you. jimin's curiosity is piqued, and she pushes off from the curtains to approach you. "what do you mean?" she asks, her eyes locked on yours. you take a deep breath, recalling the moment. "when i heard you guys on the broadcast, while i was running, i thought...i thought i saw a group of people, teens." you correct yourself, remembering the details. "but they looked normal, not bit." the room erupts into a mix of excitement and disbelief, everyone grasping onto the possibility that they might not be the only survivors.

cheongsan's expression, however, remains skeptical. "that's not possible," he says, his voice firm. you turn to him, confusion etched on your face. "i saw them-" but he cuts you off with a calm shake of his head. "no, not that," he clarifies. "gwinam," he gestures to namra, "he was bitten by zombies." suhyeok lets out a disbelieving scoff. "bullshit," he says, his tone incredulous. the room falls silent, awaiting cheongsan's explanation.

"i saw him get bit," cheongsan counters, his voice steady, his eyes unwavering. "if you get bitten by zombies, you turn into one," he continues, his logic trailing off as wujin interrupts, his voice rising in frustration.

"he's not a zombie! motherfucker was talking to us," wujin exclaims, his words laced with emotion. you turn to namra, seeking answers. "but...why did he bite you then?" you ask, your eyes locked on hers. namra's gaze meets yours, a glint of something in her eye - desperation, perhaps, or a plea for understanding. you're not quite sure, but it's clear she's searching for something. wujin answers for her, his voice still laced with anger. "he's always been an asshole, i don't know." you nod in agreement, your eyes drifting to cheongsan, who still grasps the music sheet stand, his grip tight, ready to strike at a moment's notice. "that i can agree on," you say, your voice measured, your eyes never leaving cheongsan's.

"so can you put the damn thing down?" wujin asks, his agitation growing, his voice rising as he gestures towards the music sheet stand still clutched in cheongsan's hand.

"did gwinam really get bitten?" namra asks cheongsan, who nods solemnly, his expression grim. without warning, namra strides over to the window, sweeps the curtain aside with a swift motion, and opens it, letting in a warm breeze. she climbs up to sit on the windowsill, her movements swift and deliberate, as if driven by a sudden urge.

you rush to stop her, but hroryeong's arm wraps around yours like a clamp, holding you back. "she's bitten!" she warns, her voice low and urgent, her eyes wide with concern. you shake your head, trying to free yourself, and call out to namra. "namra, don't do it!" your voice echoes through the room, filled with a sense of desperation. namra looks up at you, her eyes blinking slowly as if considering your words, her gaze unfocused. "you haven't turned yet, so it's okay. everything's fine," you try to reassure her, and the others, hoping to calm the situation.

as you turn to face the room, you notice jimin prying hroryeong's hand off your arm, her touch solid. jimin sends you a look, and for a moment, you wonder if it's jealousy flashing in her eyes, or just uneasiness. you seem to be inadvertently angering a lot of people lately, just by existing, and it's getting harder to keep up.

“wait, i've got an idea,” you say, a spark of inspiration igniting as you walk over to namra and gaze at the curtains beside her. you grab the curtains and bring them towards her, “we can tie her arms so she can't reach us if she turns,” you begin, trying to reassure the others. you glance around, noticing the skepticism etched on their faces. undeterred, you continue, “and put the desks in a circle around her, so if she gets loose, the desks will slow her down. we'll figure out what to do from there.”

cheongsan slowly nods, a hint of agreement on his face. “it's gonna be okay, namra,” you whisper, turning to her with a reassuring smile. namra looks at you with a mix of affection and disbelief, as if she can't fathom why you're going to such great lengths to keep her alive.

“i wondered why i never tried to talk to you,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper, her eyes locked on yours. you pause, the curtain tie hovering near her wrist, as you meet her gaze. “but i see now, you're really a lot more than i thought you were,” she continues, her words dripping with a sense of wonder and newfound appreciation. the room falls silent, the only sound the soft rustling of the curtains, as you hold namra's gaze, the connection between you palpable.

your face is frozen in stunned silence, your eyes still locked on namra's, the moment everlasting. however, the spell is broken as wujin approaches, his voice slicing through the tension. "i got it, y/n-ah," he says, his words a gentle nudge, prompting you to back away, your hand rising to scratch the back of your head in a gesture of awkwardness. clearing your throat, you nod, trying to shake off the intensity of the moment. you flash namra a small, reassuring smile before turning to make your way back to cheongsan and onjo, who are engaged in a hushed but heated conversation.

their voices are low, but their body language speaks volumes - stiff postures, clenched fists, and narrowed eyes. you can't help but wonder what's fueling their disagreement, and whether it's related to the current situation or something deeper.

as you approach cheongsan and onjo, you notice the others springing into action, their movements swift and purposeful. hroryeong and jimin begin to drag desks across the floor, forming a makeshift barrier around namra, who watches with a mixture of curiosity and concern. "make sure they're secure," cheongsan calls out, his eyes never leaving onjo's face, their argument momentarily put on hold.

joonyeong joins in, his muscles straining as he lifts a desk into place. "we need to make sure she can't get out," he grunts, his face set in determination. the desks form a tight circle around namra, who looks like a wild animal trapped in a cage. her eyes dart back and forth, with a linear expression "it's okay, namra," you say, trying to reassure her, but your words fall flat. she knows as well as you do that this is a temporary solution, a desperate attempt to contain the inevitable. as the last desk is put in place, the group steps back, their faces etched with worry and uncertainty. what happens next is anyone's guess.

the group stands in silence, their eyes fixed on namra, who sits quietly in the center of the desk circle. the air is thick with tension, heavy with the weight of unspoken fears. cheongsan breaks the silence, his voice low and even. "we need to figure out what to do next." onjo nods, his expression grim. "we can't keep her here forever." you sense tension between their words. hroryeong speaks up, her voice laced with concern. "but what if she...what if she turns?" jimin places a hand on her arm, her eyes locked on namra. "we'll cross that bridge when we come to it." wujin shifts uncomfortably, his eyes darting between namra and the others. "we should...we should try to find a cure." namra's head snaps up, her eyes locking onto wujin's. "there is no cure," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. the group falls silent again, the reality of their situation sinking in. they're trapped, with no clear way out, and time is running out. "maybe there is a cure, and we just don't know it yet," you say, a glimmer of hope in your voice.

the others begin to nod, and soon they're all sitting down, discussing possibilities and theories. the room is filled with the hum of conversation, a sense of determination in the air. you, however, remain standing, your eyes fixed on namra. you walk over to a nearby chair and sit down, your gaze never leaving hers. she looks up, catching your eye, and for a moment, you just stare at each other.

meanwhile, suhyeok sits down beside you, his eyes fixed on you with an unreadable expression. you can feel his gaze, but you don't turn to him, your attention still on namra. "what are you thinking?" suhyeok asks, his voice low, but you just shake your head, your eyes still locked on namra. the conversation continues around you, but you tune it out, your focus solely on namra. you're trying to understand her, to read her, to see if there's any sign of...anything.

suhyeok follows your gaze, his eyes also fixed on namra. "you really think there's a cure, don't you?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper. you nod, still not looking away from namra. "i have to believe it," you say, your voice equally quiet. suhyeok nods, his eyes still on namra. "i think you might be right," he says, his voice filled with a newfound sense of hope. the others continue to discuss and debate, their voices rising and falling in a cacophony of sound. but you and suhyeok sit in silence, your eyes fixed on namra, who seems to be watching you both with an intensity that makes your skin prickle.

as the minutes tick by, the room begins to settle, the conversation dying down as the weight of the situation sinks in. but you and suhyeok remain vigilant, your eyes never leaving namra's face. you notice a subtle change in namra's appearance, a faint discoloration around her left eye. it's a faint pinkish hue, almost imperceptible, but it's enough to make your heart skip a beat. the rest of her face, however, looks fine, no signs of illness or distress. but then, namra's hand rises to her mouth, and she begins to wipe her lips, as if she's salivating excessively. her eyes dart around the room, a hint of panic creeping into her gaze.

"namra, what's wrong?" you ask, your voice laced with concern. she doesn't respond, too focused on her own body. her hand moves to her eye, touching the infected area gingerly. "oh no, oh no, oh no," hroryeong whispers, her voice trembling. the others lean in, their faces etched with worry. cheongsan's eyes lock onto namra's, his expression grim.

"we need to get her out of here, now," he says, his voice firm. onjo grabs cheongsan's arm, holding him back. "wait, cheongsan, don't! let's give her a chance. maybe she won't...maybe she'll be okay." cheongsan's face twists in anguish, but he just stares, his eyes never leaving namra's convulsing form. namra's body slows, her limbs relaxing as she gazes up at you. her eyes, once bright and warm, now have a glint of...something else. a hunger, a craving, a primal urge that makes your skin crawl. she tries to walk towards you, her movements slow, deliberate. the others watch in horror, frozen in place. "namra, no," you whisper, trying to reach out to her, but she doesn't respond. her eyes lock onto yours, and you feel a shiver run down your spine. it's as if she's seeing you for the first time, seeing you as...prey. "namra, snap out of it!" wujin shouts, trying to break the spell, but she doesn't flinch. only when the curtains hold her from walking any further towards you.

then, just as suddenly as it began, everything stops. namra's body freezes, her eyes glaze over, and she collapses to the ground, unconscious. the room exhales a collective breath, the tension broken. but you know it's far from over. something inside namra has awakened, and it's only a matter of time before it takes control again.

namra's face, once twisted in a snarl, relaxes, her features smoothing out as she exhales a deep breath. her eyes, once gleaming with an otherworldly hunger, return to their natural warm brown, filled with a deep exhaustion. she sits up, her movements slow and labored, as if she's been drained of all energy. her hands tremble as she pushes her hair back, revealing a face pale and clammy. "namra?" you whisper, reaching out a hand to her. she looks up, her eyes locking onto yours, and for a moment, you see a glimmer of recognition, of the person she once was. "i think shes fine," wujin mutters. “she wouldve definitely turned by now,” joonyeong says.

namra's voice trembles as she speaks, her words spilling out in a rush. "i'm not okay...i wanted to bite you...i wanted to be as close to you as possible...i could smell your sweat..." her eyes drop, shame and horror written across her face. the others exchange worried glances, unsure of how to respond. onjo, moves the desks and walks up to her. puts a hand on namra's shoulder, trying to comfort her. "namra, we'll get through this," she says softly. "we'll find a way to reverse whatever is happening to you."

but namra shakes her head, her voice barely above a whisper. "you don't understand...i wanted to hurt him...i wanted to taste him..." her words hang in the air, a dark and foreboding cloud. you feel a shiver run down your spine as you realize the true extent of namra's transformation. “you guys arent safe, i should go,” namra tries to quickly leave through the classroom doors but onjo stops her in her place. “wait,” she turns to cheongsan. “you saw gwinam get bitten by zombies?” to which he rolls his eyes.

"i told you a hundred times, yes," cheongsan exhales, his eyes darting to the floor before meeting onjo's gaze. "and you saw him turn?" onjo presses, her voice laced with skepticism. cheongsan hesitates, his eyes dropping again. "no, i didn't." the group exchanges confused glances, unsure of what to make of cheongsan's admission. onjo turns to suhyeok, her eyes narrowing. "suhyeok, you definitely fought gwinam?" suhyeok stands, his voice firm. "yes, i did.” he meets your gaze, and you sense a understanding pass between you. onjo's words hang in the air, a theory taking shape. "there's no reason for either to lie," onjo says, her voice filled with conviction. "maybe gwinam was bitten but not affected. i think he's immune."

jimin speaks up, her tone bitter. "still, she tried to bite him." her eyes flash with fear and distrust. "regardless, she isn't normal. so i'm not going with her." you rise to your feet, your eyes wide in disbelief. "jimin, stop," hroryeong pleads, placing a hand on jimin's arm. but jimin shakes her off, her gaze fixed on namra, who sits silently, her eyes downcast. the group's tension rising, divided loyalties and fears hanging precariously in the balance.

"what? are you saying that i'm wrong?" jimin taunts, her voice dripping with defiance. but no one responds, the group's silence a testament to their uncertainty. suddenly, namra springs into action, her movements swift and determined. "enough!" she exclaims, her voice ringing out as she rushes to the door, intent on leaving. but onjo is quicker, grabbing namra's arm before you can even react. "stop! where will you even go?" onjo asks, her voice laced with concern. namra struggles against onjo's grip, but she holds firm. "hyeonju and isak's hands were cold when they turned," onjo pleads, her eyes locked on namra's. "namra's are warm. that means something."

jimin scoffs, her expression unyielding. "so? that means nothing, she could still turn. what then?" onjo's face twists in frustration. "jimin, stop acting like this. we need to work together." but jimin refuses to back down. "no, onjo, you're the one who's being blind. we can't trust her." the group's tension escalates, the debate raging on as namra stands frozen, her eyes fixed on the door, longing for escape.

"guys!" you say firmly, your voice commanding attention. "we're not going to survive this if we dont trust together. jimin, i understand your concerns, but you need to consider the fact that namra is immune to the virus. she could be the key to our survival." jimin crosses her arms, her expression unyielding. "i don't care," she says. "i'm not going to risk my life for someone who might turn on us at any moment.”

"that's exactly my point," you say, your voice firm. "we can't just abandon each other. we need to work together if we're going to make it through this." the group looks at you, some nodding in agreement, others looking uncertain. "here's what we could do," you continue. "we could set up a schedule for keeping watch, making sure everyone gets rest. we could work together to find food and supplies. and watch eachothers backs." jimin scowls, but you can see the faintest glimmer of understanding in her eyes. "namra, try to work with us to understand your immunity," you say. "we'll figure out how to use it to our advantage." namra nods, a small amount of gratitude on her face. "and jimin," you say, your voice firm. "you're gonna have to learn to trust." jimin nods reluctantly, but you can see the tension in her body begin to ease.

“alright, lets get started.”

[venusjeon]

faith

a rock god drabble

jungkook drags you back to the convent after having some drinks.

♔ PAIRING: rockstar!jungkook x novice!reader

♔ GENRE: 80s au, angst, fluff, humour

♔ WORD COUNT: 1k

♔ WARNINGS: religious themes, drinking, swearing, referenced non-consensual sex

♔ AUTHOR'S NOTE: 16.3k wasn't enough for these two so they're back! i actually planned this for the main fic but bc i felt it was getting too long i discarded it. here it is though<3 it takes place sometime before that fateful mass...

1986

The cloister looked so beautiful at night with the moonlight raining down on the grass, the crickets singing, the columns’ shadows dancing on the floor… Wait, how were they dancing if they were the columns’? Oh! That shadow was yours, and that one Jungkook’s.

You pointed at them, slurred, “They’re ours!”

Jungkook chuckled, “Nothing gets past you, Sherlock. But keep your voice down and let’s go.”

He was dragging you by the hand through the convent, having previously dragged you from the car and before that from the venue where he performed hours ago. Jungkook had insisted you snuck out to see him again, and you had to say, this time the show had been nothing short of stellar.

“I think I tolerate your music better like this.”

“What, wasted?”

“Let’s go with merry.”

It was your first time getting drunk. The venue had stayed open after the concert—drinks on the house for Bangtan since they’d lured in so much clientele—and when your face expressed hesitance Jungkook promised fun, that he wouldn’t take a single sip to drunksit you and later drive you to the convent. Accepting had proved to be a good decision, even if right now you couldn’t remember half of the night. The one clear thing in the mist of your mind was the seductive way that guitar player had eyed you through Rock God.

“Y/N? Jungkook?” A voice made him halt and curse under his breath.

“Is it Father Jimin?” you asked in what you’d intended as a whisper. Jungkook shook his head, so you turned around to be met with Sister Daeun walking over, and started giggling at the fact that you’d confused her voice with the abbot’s. Obvious you were drunk, the shock on her face at the two of you being out of bed at such hour turned into outrage.

“What in God’s name is going on?!”

You gasped. “Oh my god, I’ve never thought about that... What is God’s name?”

Jungkook would’ve normally laughed, but this time led you to the stone base between the columns some footsteps away and had you sit, lean on one. “Stay here,” he ordered calmly and you nodded, then watched him return to Sister Daeun. “I can explain, aunty.”

“How can you possibly? You took her out and got her drunk!”

“She’s fine, she just had a few drinks. I monitored.”

“Have you forgotten she’s a novice? And what if it had been Father Jimin that woke up for a glass of milk and not me?”

“Father Jimin is not a glass of milk man.” Jungkook assured her, and you burst into giggles again.

“Tell me the truth, Jungkook.” Sister Daeun hugged herself. “Where were you taking her?”

“Well, to her cell. Where else would I–” He saw in her eyes a glimpse of the apprehension she was trying to suppress, and it took him aback. “Nice to know you think me capable of that. What, is it because I have tattoos? Because I’m in a rock band? I guess I was fucking stupid to believe you’re any different to mum and dad.”

Half of Sister Daeun felt ashamed, but the other half jumped to argue, “I see you dragging a drunk girl in the dead of the night, what do you want me to think?”

“That I’m looking out for her!” Jungkook shouted without thinking, his voice echoing across the cloister. Sister Daeun closed her eyes and prayed he hadn’t been as loud as to wake anyone up, but he didn’t care, scoffed at the lack of a response. “If you don’t trust me, take her to her cell yourself, then.”

He turned to leave and with a sigh, his aunt held out a hand to you. “Come with me.”

“No, I want Jungkook…” you whined like a kid, rushing to his side to curl your arms around his left one. Despite how mad he was, he didn’t shake you off or snap at you, instead stopped walking not to pull you into tripping.

“Y/N…” It didn’t take her long to realise separating you from Jungkook would take at least three nuns. “Fine. But we’ll have a word tomorrow.”

She left and Jungkook led you away, hands held softly but a tension lingering in the air—and not the fun one he so liked to summon. You wanted to make him feel better, but it was hard to think straight, and before you knew it you were entering your cell in pitch-black darkness.

“Goodnight,” he whispered once he’d found the bed by touch and helped you lie on it. You reached for his hand in time and pulled, forcing him to sit down.

“Don’t go yet…”

He chuckled lowly, “Scared of the dark?” and you giggled again. Gosh, why was everything so funny when drunk? Well, if you thought about it, you always found Jungkook funny. Sometimes it seemed he went out of his way to make you laugh. He was so nice to you… “Hey, YN…”

“Huh?”

It was dark, but you didn’t need light to see he was nervous. “Listen, I’m sorry about before. Maybe I shouldn’t have pushed you to drink. I’m not the best influence…”

You started playing with his hand. “You didn’t push me. I had lots of fun with you and Bangtan.” Especially when Hoseok and Taehyung kept insisting you sainted them, and you kept explaining that it was sadly not in your power to do so. “I’m glad you were watching over me, because I trust you.”

Jungkook didn’t say anything else, just caressed your hands back. Only once you’d fallen asleep did he leave, the pain in his heart from earlier somewhat lessened.

Hopping into his bed, he thought it was crazy that you had that effect on him. Well… not so crazy. He’d allowed you to have it, given it to you, the one person who seemed to have faith in him. It made him scoff, how ridiculously head over heels he was, and as he thought of that he finally drifted into sleep, a comfortable smile settled on his lips.

[toxicanonymity]

Hello, I love your publications and the passion. I was wondering if you could do one where Michael is watching you from afar and watches as a guy flirts with you and tries to go overboard but he appears, kills him and takes you to an alley where they do it very intense and hard so that at the end he marks you with his name and leaves as if nothing has happened

Thank you 🖤. Sounds like classic Michael.

Picked up at the bar

500 | Michael x f!Reader | NSFW 18+ graphic violence, noncon/dubcon, unsafe PIV, Michael Myers is his own warning you know the drill. Not edited. Master list

Michael’s been watching you.  He saw you in the bar when a stranger first approached you.  He saw the way you politely declined the first drink he sent you.  Then he saw the guy persist.  He saw the cocktails you downed and the shots y’all took, and the escalation of your flirtatious banter.  And now Michael’s watching you leave with the guy.  

In a dark corner of the bar parking lot, the stranger pins you up against his car and shoves his tongue down your throat.  The two of you are so tied up in each other’s mouths that you don’t even hear the crunch of gravel under Michael’s boots as he lumbers through the shadows.  When you open your eyes, Michael is looming behind the man. 

Your eyes go wide, and the man says, “what?” but he doesn’t even have time to look over his shoulder before Michael grabs a fistful of his hair, pulls his head back, and slits his throat.  Warm blood splatters your face and dots your blouse.   Your heart races and your face goes white. You’re not sure what Michael’s going to do to you. 

Each second feels like an hour as Michael continues to grip his knife with white knuckles.  Finally, he wipes it on his jumpsuit and puts it away.  

Michael grabs you around the waist with one strong arm and literally drags you across the parking lot into the back alley of the bar.  He pins you up against the wall, not unlike the man pinned you on his car.  But Michael . . . Michael’s arousal is stronger, larger against you.  His presence is hulking and rich with dark energy.  He’s inevitable.  

He unzips his jumpsuit and tears down your underwear.  He hikes up your dress and doesn’t bother checking to see how wet you are, it’s like he knows.  He lifts you up slightly on the wall and your heart pounds.  You glance down and his swollen, angry tip stares up at you.  You can’t be sure if you’re more afraid or aroused. He pries your knees apart and impales you with his monster cock.  You gasp at his intrusion as your insides make way for him. 

You look over at the parking lot, wondering when the body will be discovered, and Michael's massive hand on your chin forces you to look back at him. It dawns on you what this is about - you're his, no one else's. His cock slams into you at a steady pace, fast and brutal.  You can feel him all the way up in your guts.  You begin to get heartburn but it’s drowned out by your pending climax.  Michael's hand wraps around your throat as he pounds you, and each unforgiving thrust brings you closer to coming until finally your cunt clenches down around him and your body reaches its stuttering release. 

Michael pulses enormously inside you as your contractions milk a massive load from him.  When his balls are empty, he slides out but keeps his hand around your throat.  He’s not done with you. 

He flips you around, forcing you up against the wall, facing away from him. The brick wall is cold against your cheek.  He lifts your dress up again and the cool air covers your skin with goosebumps. Then, you feel the cold heat of his blade slicing into the flesh of your asscheek.  He carves his initials, “MM.”  Then he puts your dress back down and lets go of you.  By the time you turn around, he’s already walking away.  His stride is stiff and unhurried as always, like nothing even happened. 

-

MM @ethanhoewke @wolvesandvampires @rebel-blue

[shesjustanothergeek]

His Love

|Aegon II Targaryen x Fem!Reader|

Chapter Twenty-Six

Masterlist of Series

Summary: Being a bastard born in the slums of Flea Bottom was all you were known for. Not the streak of white you had in your dark hair, the violet ring around your pupils, or how your sharp tongue and skills with the blade resembled your father, Daemon Targaryen. You were just a bastard, nothing more, but to him, to Aegon Targaryen, you were everything. You were his love.

Author's Note: Thank y'all for your patience with me for these chapters. I hope it makes up for the anguish I put you through for the past couple ones. XD

Chapter Warnings: Tooth rooting fluff

The trek back to your rooms was a slow one. Your head was pounding, and your ribs ached; your steps slightly shuffled as you used the wall for support. The carpeted floor felt like it was moving underneath your feet as if you were on a ship sailing for moons across the Narrow Sea.

It was difficult to sneak past the guards this time, making maladroit movements that stirred a profound nausea within you. Your blood pounded in your ears, the consistent beating of your heart causing your balance to teeter on the brink of collapsing. It seemed like the journey would never end, and when you felt your body could no longer take it, you forced your limbs to move—traversing across the courtyards of the Keep and into a deserted entrance to Maegor's Holdfast.

Your knees wobbled, bracing yourself against the stone wall so as not to collapse. Examining your surroundings, you saw the familiar paintings and tapestries of your room's corridor, the guard still fast asleep outside. Your nails dug into the cracks, pushing yourself off as you looked for a distraction.

It was easy enough to sneak past the Gold Cloak before, but now, with the constant thumping in your skull and sluggish movements, you feared the guards would discover you. If it took another hour, you would find a way to rid the man of his position. You looked at a vase parallel to your position. Your steps staggered as you grabbed it.

Hiding within a shadowed alcove, you chucked the pottery as far as your muscles could, hearing the guard start awake and run to the noise. You moved past him as quickly as your limbs allowed, your breath coming out in ragged pants as you flung open the doors to your chambers. You rested your body against the wood, finding comfort in the sturdy material that never bent or bowed, no matter its weight.

You began to undress yourself, slowly untying the knot at your waist as your breathing settled into small puffs from your nose. Turning haphazardly and throwing the article onto a chair, you're greeted with cropped silver hair bathing in the moonglow of the night.

"Why are you here?" The words spit out of your mouth like soured milk, shoving the pain from your body.

Aegon's platinum locks shined in the flames of a fire you don't remember lighting, a goblet in his grasp. "Where were you? Off with one of your knightlings?" he snapped, sipping his drink.

"That is none of your concern," you retort, walking to the center table.

Beneath the dim lighting of the candles and fire, Aegon studied you, observing the deep circles under your eyes that mirrored his own, the streak of red liquid matching the color of your hands and nails. Though it has long since dried, Ser Edder's blood still clung to the cracks and crevices of your skin, staining your flesh.

You poured yourself a cup of water from the basin, attempting to quell your nausea as you slammed the empty glass back onto the table, gasping.

"Leave," you commanded the Prince, not sparing him a glance.

"What have you done?"

You turned yourself to face him, your balance unsteady as you met with a squared face etched with a concern you had never seen worn by him. It caused you to pause, queasiness creeping itself back into your throat.

"You'll know soon enough."

You felt the contents of your stomach rise faster than you could quell it, running to the chamber pot and emptying your supper into it.

Without warning, there was a gentle touch of someone holding the loose strands of your hair, hands instinctively slapping them away. They refused to move, and another gag abruptly distracted your protests.

Aegon rubbed circles onto your back until your arms gave out, unable to keep yourself up as he held you. You wanted to push him away, still angry with everything he has done, but found yourself too weak to protest, laying limply in his embrace.

Tears slowly fell from your eyes, leaning your forehead into the crook of his neck, the pain in your head and side ever more apparent with your sobs. Aegon held you through it all, not saying a word as he brought you to the table. Sitting you down, he cleaned the dried blood from your skin, taking care of every inch.

He unbraided your hair with a gentleness you never knew he possessed, soaking the rag in water and squeezing it over your scalp. The pink droplets ran down your forehead and neck as the Prince washed the blood from your locks. You hadn't realized how much blood covered you until you looked down into the bowl, the water appearing a dark red color that reminded you of the Arbor Red the Prince loved.

Aegon's gentleness made you feel weak, an emotion you swore never to feel again. Your body so quickly forgave his actions, letting him peel the stained clothes off your body as he continued his work. You hated him. You loathed him for what he did, not only for the murder of your kin but for every action he made. He stole your innocence at such a young age, your first encounters with the pleasures of flesh done under the influence of alcohol, manipulated and used for his selfish desires for reasons unknown to you.

It was not love. It couldn't possibly be that. You would never lay with the one you loved when you had done something that hurt them without their knowledge. Perhaps he had an obsession only a man could understand. It was a shiny, untouched thing for his hands to tarnish simply because it would be him doing so. But the kindness he showed you with his fleeting touches and lingering smiles, brief kisses, and sweet nothings whispered into your ear when no one was around showed otherwise.

"Helaena is with child," you spoke without thinking, wincing as Aegon pulled a fresh nightdress over your head. The words sounded plain in the Prince's ears, but he knew otherwise, the cold expression of defeat and hurt hidden deep within your eyes.

He refused to answer, words unable to form even if he tried. You said no more on the subject despite your great need to know why he did it. Why did he unthinkingly go back to his old ways as if the moments shared between you were nothing?

Anxiety began to fill the empty pit of your stomach as Aegon directed you to your bed, pulling the rumpled covers back as he helped you in. What would happen on the morrow? Surely, he would run to his Mother and grandsire once the news broke, blabbering on about how he saw the Princess bloodied and bruised at the hour of the owl. They wouldn't care that he was waiting for you in your chambers, improper and inappropriate for even the whore Prince himself.

You resigned to the fate of punishment, laying back stiffly on your feather pillows as you stared at the same ceiling from earlier. Aegon stared down at you from above, a look you couldn't discern as you grew uncomfortable with his gaze, your fingers fidgeting beneath the thin cotton sheet. He appeared as if he wanted to say something, the words barely held behind pouted pink lips.

He seemed to decide against it, pursuing the mouth you caressed with your own as he went to the pile of discarded linens. You watched him with curious eyes, straining your neck to see him carry the bloodied dress and rag to the fire, placing both as they engulfed in the bright orange flames. Your uncertainty is dismissed as if it never existed.

Aegon's actions confused you, causing your already disgruntled head to swim with thoughts you couldn't decipher, lulling it to the side as a wave of pain hit you. You both watched the burst of flames from the sudden fuel slowly dim, reducing the evidence of your crime to ash. Then, as quickly as the dress had burned, Aegon poured the dirtied water onto the fire, ridding anything that could be used against you.

You couldn't understand why he did it. Perhaps he was drunk and not thinking clearly, though the thought only served to confuse you more. You never saw Aegon so caring and doting on anyone in his family, not even his children. The man shied away from affection toward his kin as if they had a sickness, and the treatment he bestowed on you tonight stirred emotions within your chest you could not name.

Tears began to well in your eyes again, failing to hide the hiccup that accompanied them. Aegon quickly returned to your trembling form as he kneeled at the side of the mattress, brushing a strand of damp hair stuck to your temple. He brought his goblet to your lips, wordlessly encouraging you to drink as you swatted him away.

You tucked yourself further beneath your blankets like a child with the fear of the dark, concealing your soft sobs. Aegon stood from his crouched position and set the cup on your bedside table. He dragged a plush green armchair from beside the hearth, the sound grating your ears and traveling straight through your skull as he sat. The Prince made himself comfortable at your side, placing his ankle over his knee as he silently observed you.

Anger suddenly replaced the weakness you felt. Why was Aegon still here? Why did he continue to bagger you with his unwelcomed presence? Did he only seek to embarrass you further? The notion that Aegon might be as sick as people rumored crossed your mind, causing another wave of nausea you couldn't tell was from your injuries or the thought of rising.

"I will never forgive you," you growled, your voice coming from deep within your chest.

Aegon shifted behind you; whether from the harsh words or the position he was in, you were unsure.

"I know," he softly spoke, the admission barely audible between the throbbing of your ears.

Your eyelids were heavy from the day, your body wanting to finally shut down and take the rest you were deprived of as Aegon hummed softly. You flinched at the unexpected sound, turning your head slightly in response.

The tune was familiar, a far-off melody that reminded you of home, not the one on Dragonstone, but the one you spent creating all the firsts of your life. The house where you had your first meals and words, walked on wobbly legs, and spilled your moon blood, where moans and girlish squeals of joy sounded as you ran across cracked wooden flooring, girls twice your age chasing after you with giggles.

Aegon seemed to slow in his humming, your mind coming to a halt as sleep dug its gentle claws into your limbs.

"And I know the kindest thing..."

You felt your eyelids become as heavy as the bags of grain you carried for training, attempting to keep them open and not give the Whore Prince the satisfaction of lulling you to sleep.

"I know the kindest thing is to never leave you alone."

You were unsure when sleep happened as your vision went ebony, the soft humming of Aegon drifting through your ears and embracing you in a blanket of dreamless darkness.

***

Jeyne and Fiora thought nothing of your symptoms, believing it to be one of your bouts of headaches as they tended to their morning routine. You refused to let them undress you and see the purple and yellow-green blotches on your ribs, the knot on the back of your skull. Though you trusted your maids with secrets, you did not want to test their loyalty with something as grave as this. They need not bear the consequences of your sins.

You could barely stand the sounds of the morning doves and wood pigeons, their crooning songs like an ice pick to your mind. Aegon did not return to your chambers in the following days of your recovery; you believed it to be for the best.

You still clung to the anger and betrayal for what he did, but the emotions soon became a mess, a ball of string unraveled and carelessly rewound together again. Every time his countenance flashed within your mind's eye, you felt that same bundle of string tangle further within itself with emotions you could not name.

Aegon's actions embittered you. You did not need his help. You did not want his help, yet the arrogant fool still gave it to you. It must be some ploy for him to weasel back into your good graces. He did not care for you more than the whores he bedded on the Streets of Silk. He proved it as much with the coming of Helaena's third child.

On the seventh day of your solitude, a knock was on your chamber doors. Believing your maids were coming with your peppermint and chamomile tea, you bid them enter, only to find the Queen adorned in her typical, conservative green gown. You attempted to hide your displeasure at her presence as you rose from the plush settee with a deep curtsy, nearly losing your balance before the Hightower woman caught you.

"To what do I owe the pleasure of your arrival, my Queen?" you questioned blankly, offering her a seat near the warmth of the hearth. Alicent pursed her lips as she accepted, smoothing her finally sewn skirts as she cleared her throat.

"Lord Vaemond Velaryon has petitioned the Crown for the Driftwood throne."

Your body moved faster than your mind, turning so abruptly that a wave of nausea washed over you. "What?"

"During your... illness, Lord Corlys suffered a grave injury during a battle in the Stepstones. An injury in which he might not recover," she began. The Queen's words were tentative, her doe brown eyes frantically looking anywhere but you. "In light of this tragedy, the succession of Drift Mark has come into question."

A frown pulled your lips downward, your eyes squinting with an accusatory gaze. "My brother, Lucerys Velaryon, son of Laenor Velaryon, is set to inherit Driftmark. This matter was settled years ago."

Alicent smirked at your words, the aura of uneasiness leaving for one of arrogance as she looked at you. Her expression was unnerving, causing you to be the one who turned away to focus on anything rather than the person across.

Do you recall our conversation from moons past? Where I brought to you the hypocrisy of your birth?" You clenched your jaw at her arrogant words, fisting the fabric of your night dress. "When Rhaenyra ascends the throne, you know it will not be her who rules, but your Father. Prince Daemon is a cruel and unjust man. He will reign with fire and blood upon the innocents of the realm. He will kill anyone who sets to oppose him."

You refused to look at the beseeching Queen, rolling your eyes in disbelief as you leaned onto the plush settee. Alicent proceeded to drone on until there was a painful thumping in your head. This was the most anyone had spoken to you in days; it just had to be her. The sound of her voice was grating, a knife dragging along the red rock walls of the Keep.

"He will kill my family, your kin. Aemond, Helaena, Jaehaerys, Jaehaera, Aegon. You told me that your worth is not defined by titles or marriage but by actions. Support Vaemond's claim and protect-"

"You will know what it is like to watch loved ones die. Just as I have," you interrupted, finally making contact with Alicent's pleading brown orbs. "Where was my mercy when you sentenced my kin to the sword? Your children will bear the consequences of your sins."

"That was not my doing. My Father-"

"You stood by and let it happen!" you hissed, your nails biting crescents into your palms to control your burst of anger. "You are a desperate woman clinging onto the coattails of those who have sought to keep you locked within a gilded cage of suffering. You speak of love for your family, but am I not your family? Is Rhaenyra not your family? Am I not a woman fighting and protecting herself from the people you seek to please?" You inhaled a ragged breath, steadying your uneven breathing and beating heart as your head pounded.

"What you ask of me is only for the gain of those who wish to see me gone, and that is something I cannot do in good conscience."

You hadn't noticed the Queen's trembling fingers picking incessantly at her cuticles until you saw blood coming from a piece of skin pulled too deep. Instinctively, you thought to grab a wash rag and some water but swallowed the urge to help the woman who caused her suffering. Alicent's face hardened as she watched the crimson liquid seep into the cracks of her hands, placing them behind her as she stood primly.

"I thought you ought to know your family should be arriving in four days time, along with your half sisters. We shall convene as soon as they arrive." The Queen smoothed out her unwrinkled skirts, a distraction from the intensity of your stare as she began to exit.

"What authority will decide the outcome of this farce Vaemond Velaryon has created?" you interjected, the wooden frame of the settee groaning under your weight. "My Grandsire? Will he be coherent with the milk of the poppy you continue to push on him?"

The Queen contorted her lips into a downward smirk, clasping her fists at her front as she rolled her shoulders back, her neck ramrod straight. "It would be mine, and the Hand," she answered smugly, her gold and emerald earrings swaying with the movement of her mouth.

You released an exasperated breath, clicking your tongue and shaking your head, the movement causing you to lose focus.

"But be assured the father's will is just and I shall forget the insults you have spoken to me today, for the Seven commands it." You scoffed at her pious expression, rolling your eyes as you sucked in a quick breath to retort before the Queen interrupted. "Good day, Princess. I pray to the Mother for your speedy recovery."

Without so much as a glance behind, the Queen Consort exited, her elegant green skirts swishing with every clicking step of her finely made shoes as you fumed in silence.

***

The early spring air was crisp against your cheeks, the stray flyaway locks in your braided hair gently swaying in the breeze. You were the only person standing below the winding steps of Maegor's Holdfast, slightly bristled at your fellow welcome party's absence. You wore a thick satin cloak of red and black over your form, your dress of dense charcoal cotton with bronze lines of embroidery. A sturdy leather collar caged your neck, golden threads sewn into the bones to support it. Your brass cloak clasps held the Targaryen emblem in the broaches with matching circles sewn onto the hem, giving your coat a weighted feel.

Your Mother was the first to exit the carriage at the announcement of a kingsguard, staring at the tall red rock structures. Daemon, Jace, and Luke soon followed, your second youngest brother running to you. The nursemaids carrying a crying Viserys, babbling Aegon, and young Joffery came after with Rhaena. Luke had grown so much since the last time you saw him. His head used to be at your chest, now just above your shoulder.

"Luke," you called softly, tenderly stroking his mop of brown hair as you embraced. "You've grown."

Lucerys nuzzled his face further into your shoulder, squeezing you impossibly tighter. "I have missed you so much, sissy." He sounded on the verge of tears, and you, too, were almost emotionally overcome as you saw Jace's smile.

You were with your family, finally.

"I've missed you too." You pulled away from your younger brother's body, though not too far before Joffrey's little form ran into you. "I'm sorry I missed your nameday, Luke. I trust that you've enjoyed my gift, yes?"

"Of course, sister. Daemon has helped me with my training, though I doubt I will ever be as good as you with the blade," he answered bashfully, his cheeks turning an adorable shade of pink.

"Oh, nonsense, Luke. I was barely your junior when I learned. You still have plenty of years ahead to become better." At the mention of your Father's name, he approached you, peering underneath his sparse brows.

"Daughter," he greeted tersely, his hands intertwined with his belt.

"Father," you smiled, hoping he would ignore the slight of the Queen's and the Hand's absence. "How wonderful it is to have you all back at the Keep." You released Luke from your grasp, curtsying with the bow of your head. "Please, allow me to welcome you-"

Your Father's abrupt laugh caused you to bristle, blinking rapidly as you licked your lips, swallowing the formed lump and embarrassment.

"Sweet daughter, you look as if you are a woman grown," Rhaenyra spoke as she placed a comforting hand on Daemon's bicep. "You are more beautiful than the last time I saw you."

You accepted the flattery in stride, a slight flush to your ears as Luke took your hand in his. Though he was your younger brother who still had yet to become a man, he understood adults and their languages that took many years for some to master.

Little Luke, you thought, nearly a man grown, affectionately smiling down at him.

"Mother, 'tis lovely to see you, and with child no less." You approached her, placing your palm on the bump as you felt the flesh underneath move. "Why did you not tell me?"

"I thought it would be best to inform you in person, my sweet girl. The Maester believe I am five moons," she answered, covering your hand with hers.

You grinned at the idea of another silver-haired child growing inside the walls of Dragonstone, motioning your head toward the enormous wooden doors. "Come. Let me escort you to your chambers."

Your family traversed the halls of the castle you all called home, Rhaenyra and Daemon speaking in hushed tones. Your siblings had scampered off to become acquainted with where they once lived, and the servants had taken the youngest ones to their rooms.

You observed your parents glancing at the decorations of the Keep, exchanging displeased looks with one another as you bit your lip. You hadn't given much thought to the decor of the Red Keep, your mind preoccupied with the countless hours of politicking and ensuring that your Mother's succession would be smooth that you hadn't noticed that the tapestries of flying dragons, riders bounding with their mounts became those of the Seven, holy pictures of the Crone and her guiding light, the Maiden with her pure, ethereal beauty, and those of religious importance.

As you passed before a tall alcove, a Seven Pointed Star was carved into the stone wall, letting the natural daylight in. Your Mother and Father stopped to stare.

"I would say it's nice to be home, but I scarcely recognize it," Rhaenyra said, a slight lilt to her melodic voice and sharing a knowing glance with Daemon.

You felt your nose become itchy at the thought, unsure why her words created such an onslaught of emotions. Shame churned your gut, looking away from your Mother to see your Father continuing his trek into the dark corridors. Your eyes burned as you stood beside Rhaenyra, refusing to look up at the Star as your breathing hiccuped.

This seemingly innocent symbol was the catalyst for everything you kept within. All your doubts, inadequacies, mistakes, insecurities, and failures came pouring out with a barely contained sob, your body recoiling itself.

"I'm sorry, Mother," you whispered hoarsely.

"Oh, my sweet girl, whatever for?" she questioned, immediately enveloping you in her maternal embrace.

"I-I tried Mother, to do what Father wanted me to. To be strong, to show them that I'm better than what my title leads them to believe." You inhaled a jagged breath, removing your Mother's arms and replacing them with your own.

You did not deserve her comfort. What had you done to secure Rhaenyra's claim as heir? Play dress up in front of the Small Council? Warm a spoiled prince's bed? You indeed had done nothing to aid your Mother and solidify her succession in the eyes of Lords, too distracted with a plan so idiotic not even Otto Hightower could see the benefit.

"My daughter," Rhaenyra spoke softly, holding her thick cloak to her body, "my beautiful, strong, cunning daughter," she continued, her leather traveling shoes clacking on the stone floor. "I know what your Father planned, and you have done more than anything I could have dreamed. I've heard how you demand for your voice to be listened, how you aided the Sea Snake in the Stepstones, how you ceaselessly fight for the small folk in spite of the Council's arrogance." Your Mother laughed softly to herself, clicking her tongue as she smiled. "At times I believe you would be more fit to rule than I."

Her statement alarmed you, your eyes going wide as you quickly glanced around to ensure no prying eyes or eavesdropping servants lurked within the shadows of the halls. "Mother, do not say such things. You are the realm's rightful heir. You've been groomed for this since the King declared you as such."

Rhaenyra chuckled, her porcelain teeth glinting in the dim glow of the yellow candlelight as she embraced you once more. "I do believe I have neglected my duty and placed it upon my daughter. For that, I am deeply sorry."

"Mother. You needn't apologize to me. It is an honor to serve in your stead, to be allowed to devote my life in service of you," you spoke earnestly, not wanting her to feel guilty for the actions that you chose.

"You haven't had much of a childhood, my beloved, to know what I mean, and it hurts my heart to see you so distraught over things that were already planted before you blessed our lives." Rhaenyra gently smoothed the loose strands of your black hair, her violet orbs catching on the white streak, a wistful look inside them. "When I ascend the Iron Throne, I want you to by my side, to guide me in uncertainty and provide council as my Hand."

A gasp caught in your throat at her confession, a fresh wave of tears pouring down your damp cheeks as you shook your head. "No, Mother. I cannot accept. I am undeserving of such an honor."

Rhaenyra cupped your face, her lithe fingers causing the fine hairs to stand on end as she smiled again. "I shall hear nothing of that, my love. You will stand by me as Hand of the Queen and you will do so graciously."

"But what of Father-"

"No," she interrupted with a determined flick of her head. "You will be my Hand. I would rather have no one else at my side."

All rebuttals trapped inside your throat, her steadfast declarations causing you to gape at her, struggling to come to terms with the contents.

You, the Hand of the Queen. One of the most coveted positions of the Crown given to you by a woman you failed. Your face scrunched at the wave of emotions that pulled you under, unable to discern if it was deep-seated gratitude, fear, happiness, or anger. It was most likely a whirlpool of all, dragging you into its depths as you cried into the crook of your Mother's neck, her gentle arms embracing you.

Masterlist of Series

Just a sweet little chapter to make up for all the angst I've been writing. Despite how daddy Daemon acts, he is proud of his daughter. He's just not very good at showing it. I mean, how many women have been on the small council? Two. And they were both queens. I hope y'all enjoyed this chapter. It's pretty much going to be nonstop drama from this point on. XD

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[undead-merman]

Day Twelve: Possession

Ivory Wraith and GN-Pc

Contains dubcon, possession, tentacles, fucking of holes not meant to be fucked, mind break.

You could never run. It always managed to find you, always creeped around waiting for its chance. An invisible predator always at your heels. You tried the farms, the woods, even under your own bed.

So you find yourself at the beach surrounded by people you don’t know just to have some kind of shield, or at least that’s the hope. The people filter around you, drinks in hand, as they chatter and fluff about. Some have their eye on you, but you can’t spend the energy to care about a few stray looks. You had to keep your eyes out for one specific gaze, a crimson stare that always manged to spot you. Always. You held a red solo cup, though it was still full. You didn’t touch it at all. You had used it as an excuse to keep people from talking to you as you scouted the party. Eyes, so many eyes.

You brushed off a few people, some that gotten more grabby than others, but when you stomped on their foot, you might have also scared them with that look on your face. It was probably unhinged. You couldn’t really find a fuck to give.

A breeze blew past, colder than most. The chill sent a paranoid shiver up your spine. Doubt then suddenly flooded your mind. Your plan wasn’t working, was it? Even surrounded by people, you still couldn’t hide yourself? When you heard the whisper of your name on the wind, it all but confirmed it for you. You threw down your cup, you didn’t even hear the man yelling at you for staining his pants, you simply pushed your way through the crowd. You shoved past dozens of people, not sparing them another glance until your bare feet hit the sand. Until you could no longer see the lights of the seaside social.

Your breathing was heavy, you could feel your heart racing, sweat leaking down the back of your neck. Yet you could still hear it. It simply had to be the wind, right? With how faint it really was, could you trust your own ears? Even with how much you were stricken with terror? The Blood moon hung high in the sky casting a ruby light on everything, the shadows were even deeper there.

“I will always find you.” like it was your lover’s breath in your ear.

Your fingers twitched and suddenly went cold and numb. The feeling crawled up your arm as you fell into the sand. Your arms were suddenly not your own as they reached up and started gropping you. One hand a bit too rough on your crotch and the other shooting up your shirt and scratching at your nipple, bring a tear to your eye.

“You and I are inseparable.” you could feel their long hair around you as if it was your own, violently masturbating with hands that are ice-cold on your own body. It was shameful that it was bringing such lewd noises out of you. Had you really been that pent-up from the paranoia? You caught yourself grinding into those numb fingers.

Fuck, it feels so good. The entity behind your alien hand syndrome knew your most sensitive spot, even more intimately than you knew your own body. Pinching your swollen buds, pulling them, even flicking them, making you gasp and whimper. Your fingers slipped into your undies and start stroking feverishly. You were so vulnerable, your clothes were being wiggled out of without your knowledge, simply too focused on the pleasure. It was wrought out of you, milking you as whispered threats were sung into your ear with jubilation.

You came with a scream that was eaten by an ice-cold mouth. Lips collided with yours and you saw their face. Ivory pale with no color anywhere besides their empty red eyes. Even that long wavy hair felt like a cage as it framed the both of you. Your entire body went numb, surely the wraith had sucked out your very soul.

A prisoner in your own body. You could feel every grain of sand against your back but could not even blink, your body was theirs to puppet. They prep your body, spreading your legs, opening your lips. The scream you wanted to let out didn’t even squeak when you felt the cold slither of snakes against your flesh. You knew far too well those tendrils were not mortal. They pressed against your stomach, wiggling into your bellybutton, your lips, every hole it tried to slither inside, not even your ears were safe.

With a hive mind rhythm they all pushed in at the same time. Your body provided no resistance as they invaded your innards. Each push sent a static of ecstasy that sent heat from your holes up your spine into your brain stem and into your Parietal lobe, turning it into goo. Even the tiny pseudopods that fucked your ears, which made deafening squelching sounds, felt like they were working you to orgasm. They weren’t even organs anymore, just fuck holes.

From your overly wet eyes that were spilling fat globs of tears, you could make out two more, and your heart sank. Where else could they possibly violate? Turns out, your nose was another prime sexual organ. It tickled all the way up to your brain, you could even feel the pleasure behind your eyes as the explosive force of euphoria. You wanted to scream, needed to, but your mouth was not your own and was occupied.

Even when you reached your peak, they drew out the feeling more and more as each orifice was thrust into more and more, making your nerves burn with pleasure so deep it felt like pain. Your guts were filled with a clear fluid that you could see squirt out of your hole. You could feel your stomach bloat from both ends. Shot after shot you could feel each appendage cum inside each hole, leaving a sticky yet warm sensation. It slowly heated, adding to a sudden need to keep going, to cum over and over again.

Slime dripped out of your nose, ears, and mouth in thick gooey clumps as they pull away. But with their tanks empty, you were able to briefly take control of your limbs once more. You seized it. Pulling back a pale tentacle, you licked up the drooling spend pouring out of your mouth and pulled the smallest little tendril back. You stroked it lovingly, offering it a place to be warmed and to fuck once again by your snotting nose. You offered a loving smile up to that sickly monster.

And it returned the kiss with its own sinister smirk.

[larkscribbles]

Crying Over Delivered Milk

[Ao3] Words: 2236

After Gulley’s kidnapping, River, the blacksmith’s wife, goes to Link’s house to provide what little support she can.

(Set around the mid-game. Spoilers if you know where to look.)

0======[]=========================>

Sunlight filters through green trees, a bright blue sky with a scattering of white clouds. Hyrule should be idyllic but it isn’t. River, the blacksmith’s wife, hoists her dress as she steps up the muddy ramp to Link’s house. A small brown leather bag clinks on her hip. She stands at the door, smooths her golden hair and wipes her face, hoping her eyes are not too red. She has to put on a brave face for him. They may not share blood but Link is most certainly her son. Just days ago he started off on what should have been a simple delivery. A boy adept at smithing and sword play, natural talent hindered by his penchant for sleeping in. When she saw him last it struck her how much older he looks - no longer a child, instead a young man going to…

She laughs mirthlessly to herself under her breath. Her son has vowed to risk his life to save not only Gulley but several other kidnapped Hyrulians - descendants of the Seven Sages and Princess Zelda herself. Ludicrous! How she wishes it wasn’t true.

The writhing, nervous energy in her chest has not subsided for days. She and her husband deal with their youngest son’s disappearance in their own ways. She has to do things, keep her hands busy, keep her mind off things. She flits like a bird between different tasks. Melor withdraws into himself, unable to work. His eyes are as cold as the unlit furnace. In essence they have lost both of their sons - first Gulley vanished, then Link after him. They both worry. Hylia knows what Gulley is experiencing; and Link faces the unknown. She wrings her hands. Perhaps he should have been taught more swordplay. Perhaps they should have been harsher on him and encouraged him to pursue a career in defending the realm as a knight of Hyrule. But, then again, what good have such knights proved? There’s nothing for it now. All she can do is provide her support.

She raises a fist to knock on the door, eyes absent mindedly scanning the poorly painted, rough wooden sign that has found itself on top of the roof of her son’s house. As she nears the door her ears prick up at a noise; familiar and gut wrenching. A noise she hasn’t heard in years. Her heart seizes.

Link is crying.

She knows he would be more than mortified for her to discover him like this, he’d always been an oddly proud boy. She knocks, as if pretending not to hear, giving the boy a moment to compose himself, should he wish.

“Link, I have some supplies for you… lunch, some milk. Rations for the road…” She lets the unasked question hang in the air.

The sobbing stops abruptly with a wet gasp followed by the scrabbling of feet. Confused, she backs up a little. She can see the shudder of the door as he presses his weight against it; his shadow seeping through the crack. The muffled, snotty breathing from behind it. It’s as if he doesn’t dare say anything.

She softens her voice. “I wasn’t going to- I don’t need to come in, dear. I can just leave the bag outside hanging on the scarecrow, ok?”

She feels the waves of his anxiety radiate through the door. He’s clearly shaken.

“Is… everything alright? I mean- we can talk about- I would be happy to listen.”

There’s a rustle of fabric she interprets as some form of a dismissal. A wave of the hand or shake of the head.

“Ok,” she takes a steadying breath and tries to compose herself. “Would you mind if I talk at you?” The question itself is a formality - a brief moment to arrange her thoughts.

“I can’t imagine what you’re going through. Your… quest isn’t easy. What you’ve overcome astounds me. You’ve grown so much in such a short amount of time. I’m- we’re so proud of you. And I’m sure Gulley would tell you that if he was here too-”

Her voice cracks and she swallows thickly to avoid her voice shaking further.

“What you have to do; the world you’ve been thrown into is… scary. The idea scares me! And the courage with which you’re taking it on is amazing, please know you don’t have to do all of this on your own, ok? I’m here, we’re all here for you.. You can be a… a hero and still ask for help. You can be scared. You don’t have to do everything yourself. You don’t have to recklessly throw yourself into fights you can’t win, ok? You can run. Just come home safe.”

The floorboards creak but little else. She’s said her piece. He’s listened. That’s all she can do. River nods to herself to affirm an ending to her speech, aware this doesn’t translate across at all. “I’m going back to the house now.” Her voice is small and unsteady. A weight remains heavy in her gut - she wishes she could do more. She slings the leather strap of the bag diagonally across the scarecrow, taking care it doesn’t fall, whilst shooing off the strange red-eyed bird that’s perched on its head.

~~~

The woman has just got to the door of her house when she sees a familiar green hat bob its way through the trees. Link? She resists the urge to scrub at her eyes. That can’t be possible-? Well it can be possible with all the a temporal teleport-y magic things he’s been doing. The poor boy’s jaw is set in a grim determination, a fire in his eyes and dirt marring his hair. His tunic is torn and blood flecks his sleeves.

He staggers up to her, sheathing his blade and doffing his shield. He doesn’t dare meet her eye. No Gulley. He’s rendered mute, he doesn’t know what to say. Assurances are nothing but words, hollow. He has failed once again to bring the boy back. River hides her confusion at his appearance and pulls him into a tight embrace. Link grunts to indicate his confusion. He has a creeping feeling there’s something he hasn’t gleaned about this interaction. Her eyes are red, watery but most importantly searching his face. He looks to her face intently, eyebrow quirked, for an explanation.

“I heard you… at the house..” She explains, softly. “I know you didn’t want to talk about it but I- I hope you’ll think on what I’ve said.”

“What?”

“You’re allowed to cry.”

He blinks, frowns deeply, taking a moment to process what she said, opens and closes his mouth before settling on a simple: “No.”

“No?”

He waves a hand to exemplify ‘not what I meant’.

“Wasn’t there. I haven’t been at my house… all of today.” The parallel decrepit version of his house in a crumbling version of their reality? Yes. His actual house-turned-merchant store? No.

The woman frowns, lips pursed as she holds him at arms length, studying him intently. “It was you crying, though. Your- your voice.”

Link’s mouth is equally flat. He shakes his head vehemently. “Nope.” There’s only one person in his house and he’s unsure whether or not to fill her in on the error. Surely she could have figured out it was Ravio. But that begged the question. Why was the merchant crying? And a second question, how did she mistake the merchant for him? He concludes she must have heard what she wanted to hear, not that she wishes for him to cry, but she’s worried and projecting onto him. The only logical explanation to the conundrum.

Her hand flies to her mouth with an audible slap. “Oh Hylia. I- I just forgot your friend at the house-” Her face flushes red from embarrassment. “I- well I hope he’s ok.”

Link doesn’t really correct her on the discrepancy. Friend isn’t the right word but what is? There’s an odd distance between the pair. Ravio’s too enigmatic and shady to be entirely trustworthy. Acquaintances? Still no, too chummy for that. At least on Ravio’s end. His intentions of friendship seem genuine but as Ravio has never spoken plainly - it's hard to get a read on him. Link would rather the man in his house be a friend than a stranger, but it’s hard to build any form of connection when you’re running around in dungeons and the other is at home (making you pay rent in your house). Link has afforded Ravio some insight into his life, now and again, carefully slipped between talk of business. But he has never received anything back on that downpayment. A man is allowed his secrets but it would be nice to have some background. He rubs the bracelet at his wrist. “I’ll check in on him.” He sighs.

~~~

If Link hadn’t known any better he wouldn’t have spotted anything wrong. Ravio deceptively appears his usual peppy self, purple rabbit hood bouncing comically on his head as he bounds to meet his rupee-wallet/friend/landlord. Sheerow swoops overhead in a figure of eight in celebration.

“Mr Hero! Welcome back! Glad to see you in one piece! You look- uh- Sit down, please. Y’know I’m feeling generous and you’re looking a bit down in the dumps, so I think it’s only right to mention a discount on-“

Link is sure to cut his momentum off. “River came around-”

“Who?” Ravio’s voice wavers, out of confusion more so than guilt. Or maybe the merchant is just very good at masking it.

“She said she left me a bag?”

“Ah.” His voice plummets from his cheery sing-song to something considered normal - it’s unnerving. “Uh - yes! She left it outside but I didn’t want the squirrels getting at it.” He wrings his hands nervously.

Link holds the man’s gaze a moment, but doesn’t glean much from his lack of eyes (thanks to his hood), he more so just hopes to get his intent across. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“About-? About uh- no. No, not really.” Ravio decides against playing dumb. Suddenly he sniffs loudly, voice wet. “I- I don’t think I can. I know- I can’t. It won’t- it won’t change anything. What’s done is done. It’s uhm- the whole merchant travelling thing, y’know? Far from home and not going back?” He holds his hands up after gesticulating angrily, then splays his palms in a form of surrender. He seems to remember himself after his outburst and passes Link his delivery. “Sorry, sorry. Bag.”

Link nods, walks past his guest, and claps a hand on his shoulder. Ravio seems to deflate under his touch. He’s unsure if their friendship allows them to do more. Instead, he sets about heating up the flask of soup over the fire, searching its bubbling surface for what to say next. He struggles to find a way to approach the man - they have no common ground - they’re nothing alike. He finds nothing worth voicing so turns his attention outwards again and ladles the orange broth into two bowls. “Right.” He says, finally. (Acknowledging what he’s said and how he can’t talk about it, or elaborate further.) “Have some food. It’ll help.” (Every problem seems more manageable with food in your stomach.)

Ravio accepts the bowl with two hands, chin poking out from beneath his cowl, mouth downturned. Sheerow swoops in and twitters on his shoulder, trying to provide some comfort. “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything to her. Y’know? I just didn’t know what I could- it was very awkward.”

Link considers it and inclines his head. He feels a twinge of anger briefly fade. “Fair enough,” he admits with a sigh. He’d probably have been equally silent in the same situation. Sometimes being mute is better than running your mouth.

The merchant balances the bowl on a knee and wipes his slick palms on his robe. “She’s a nice lady. Gist of what she said? Cares about you a lot, clearly.”

Link flashes a small smile, in response but Ravio’s attention is elsewhere.

“Wish I had a mother like that.” He mumbles, as if the statement is directed at his soup, or meant to be entirely internal. His hat jerks precariously on his head as he waves a hand in Link’s direction. “But enough about me! Let’s talk about you! My problems are seriously minuscule compared to yours. How are you doing?” The chirpy salesman voice is back up, but the undertone to his question is genuine. As if he’s trying to dispel the darkness of his previous words and keep up a tough facade.

The hylian almost laughs. “Dunno. Ok. I’ve been better.”

Ravio launches into a well intentioned tirade about heroes being overworked and how ‘Mr. Hero’ should be sure to bring some soup for the road. (Then continuing past this on his own lack of cooking skills.)

Content, Link interlaces his hands. He’s been afforded a glimpse into the enigmatic merchant. His happy-go-lucky mask has slipped for a moment, revealing something a little more genuine. The question is why? Why now of all times? Not a lot more he can do now except infer - now the walls are back up. He doesn’t have time to think about it. He can at least glean that Ravio is a good person. Even if he does seem dodgy at times. Link is content with that. Maybe they aren’t so different as he initially thought.

[raptor1312]

So I decided to write a little something for this…

The rift. It had opened… no matter how many silver knights came to stop it or vine shackles produced by White Lily Cookie to seal it— the deed was done, and the seal was broken.

"AHHH! Doesn’t this fresh air just feel… DIVINE!?"

Pure Vanilla Cookie stood in horror as a blue-hued cookie with manic eyes emerged from the rift, figuring out on his own that this was one of the beasts Elder Faerie Cookie had talked about.

"Oh, I see I have quite an audience here! I am SO terribly sorry to have kept you waiting!"

Taking a step in front of his friends, he’d figure this twisted, jesterlike cookie would try to attack he and the rest of the cookies here, so if Pure Vanilla Cookie was going to do anything, he was going to stand in his way.

"But now… the wait is over! Your favorite trickster is here!"

Trickster… Pure Vanilla thought. This must have been the beast who formerly possessed the Light of Knowledge- now reduced to Deceit.

"Shadow… Milk… COOKIE!"

So that was this tragically twisted cookie’s name… Pure Vanilla Cookie couldn’t help but feel sorry for how he and the rest of the beasts fell to darkness, given they previously held the soul jam before he and his friends. Which, speaking of, Shadow Milk Cookie was glancing at his new “audience”, scanning each and every one of them until something caught his attention.

"Ooooooh! What’s this, I see?"

Shadow Milk Cookie exclaimed, manifesting his magic towards the ancient as they took the form of lanky, dark blue arms. They grabbed ahold of Pure Vanilla Cookie, much to his dismay. All he could do was writhe in vain as they pulled him closer to the blue-eyed beast. White Lily Cookie let out a frightened gasp as she tried to stop the ancient trickster, but it was in vain. Gingerbrave tried to step in as well, but he would be slapped away by another hand similar to the one he fought to try and keep the rift closed.

Stunned in silence, the ancient cookie would try to pry open the fingers that kept him tightly grasped, but even that proved to be pointless. In fact, it made Shadow Milk Cookie giggle just a little, cocking his head to the side as he watched the foolish old man fruitlessly get away from him. However, something else was interesting about this cookie, and that was the soul jam on his robes, taking front and center on the ancient. Pure Vanilla Cookie noticed that the beast was fixated on it, figuring he was the previous owner of his soul jam out of the five beasts..

"When my power was taken from me oh so long ago, it was given to you?"

His tone continued to remain maliciously playful as he interrogated Pure Vanilla, who was trying to think of the best course of action to approach this threatening moment. Just what was Shadow Milk Cookie going to do, now that he was in his clutches?

"..It was never given to me, I earned it, and so did my friends!"

Pure Vanilla responded, still struggling from within the grasp of the hands. However, in the midst of this, he’d get tossed into the air, nearly dropping his staff. Firmly grasping onto it, he thought he was about to take a great fall, only to be picked up by his upper arms, being pulled in closer to the trickster.

"…You and your friends, huh? I’m sure my friends won’t be so happy to know that they were replaced, but I must tell ya… I’m excited!"

Shadow Milk Cookie’s smile widened to an unsettling amount, throwing Pure Vanilla Cookie in the air once again, but this time, his hands wouldn’t catch him. Instead, he’d let him fall. As he made his descent, Pure Vanilla Cookie saw the fear in the rest of his friends’ eyes and worried for their safety. He had to fight! He had to get back up once he fell to the ground below, no matter how much he crumbled! Embracing the impact, he would soon realize that impact… wouldn’t happen.

When he opened his eyes, Pure Vanilla Cookie would find himself suspended in midair. W..what? Had he been deceived into thinking he was going to crumble at the mercy of this beast? That was when he noticed __how__ he was being suspended in midair. As he tried to move his legs, he’d realize they were.. tightly bound. As if they were strung together. In fact, he could hardly move his arms either. Looking to either side, he’d find that both of his wrists were tightly wrapped in glowing, blue strings, held together by a puppeteering contraption held by… Shadow Milk Cookie?

"Oh, you’ll be the perfect puppet for my new show! Wouldn’t you agree?"

Shadow Milk smirked, not even trying to hide the malice that dripped from his words. Hoisting Pure Vanilla upwards, he’d control the Ancient with ease, forcing him to lift up his staff with great pride. It was entertaining, honestly, to control such a pathetic cookie.. one who was supposed to replace him! As if this joke would ever live up to his reputation! No matter, he was going to have fun with this cookie, and he knew it.

"Now, clear the stage, Earthbread! Your favorite trickster has returned with a brand new show just for you! I hope you all enjoy it; it’s certainly been a long time since I’ve entertained my captivating audience! Open the curtains! Turn on the spotlights! It’s time to show that I haven’t lost my theatrical touch! For my first act, my puppet shall be entertaining you by fighting his foolish friends who tried keeping me locked away! Perhaps I’ll have a few more playthings once this is over.. that is if they don’t crumble first!"

"Ooooooh! What’s this, I see? When my power was taken from me oh so long ago, it was given to you? I’m sure my friends won’t be so happy to know that they were replaced, but I must tell ya… I’m excited! You’ll be the perfect puppet for my new show! Now, clear the stage, Earthbread! Your favorite trickster has returned with a brand new show just for you!"

[phoenix-bleh]

Oh I have an idea for Vampire Shadow Milk Cookie hypnotism related to the sequel

In general, after what happened T/N Cookie I decided to sleep, and tomorrow I will go for a walk in the evening.

After that, the blood T/N Cookie has been infected And she felt unwell at the T/N Cookie Her eyes turned blue and she lost consciousness. Then she woke up in some kind of castle. She searched for a way out and didn't find it.

Shadow Milk cookie followed her he wants to make his own. T/N CookieI looked in the mirror and saw that the bite had turned blue and the blood was blue.

     Vampire Shadow Milk Cookie x reader part two!

part 1 if you want to read :p

Warnings: obsessive behavior, mentions of blood at the end, kidnapping

 A few days have passed after you met that vampire that bit you in the forest. You never felt the same after that day. You had this bite mark on your neck and always felt so much weaker than before. But you were still alive so that’s all that mattered.

One day you felt like you needed some fresh air so during the evening you went out for a walk. While you were walking you could feel as if someone was walking behind you, but when you glanced back no one was there. You didn’t know if you were overreacting or it was a gut feeling trying to tell you something. You ignore the feeling since you weren’t in any actual danger, you weren’t lost this time.

You started to feel a little sick and you had a pain in your neck from time to time. You would try to sooth your neck with your hand and it worked a little bit. You didn’t know what was happening but you kept telling yourself that it was fine. You couldn’t handle it anymore so you decided to end your walk early and go back home. On your way back home your vision started getting blurry and you could barely move your legs.

Your world started spinning and then you limped, you lost your balance and fell. Before you could hit the ground something or someone had grabbed you before you face planted on to the floor. You tried to see who or what it was that caught you but your vision faded and you blacked out.

You woke up gasping and quickly sat up from your bed. You sighed and rubbed your eyes and calmed down. Was that all a dream? You patted your hand around your bed, it felt different and bigger than your actual bed. That’s strange…You're in your bed at home right? Your eyes started adjusting to the dark room and you realized that this wasn’t your room at all. You looked around in confusion and panicked.

The room that you were in was way bigger than yours. There were two nightstands on either side of the bed and one of them held a lamp. On the other side there was a bookshelf in the corner and a desk placed in the other corner. The walls were painted a light blue color and the window curtains were a wispy black color.

You didn’t like where you were at the moment and decided to find your way out of here and return back home. You removed the blanket that was over your body and got up from the bed. You slowly made your way to the door and gently took a hold of the doorknob and turned it ever so slightly as to not make any noise to anyone who could be listening.

You opened the door only slightly and took a peek into the hallway. It was nighttime outside and the hallways were empty, not a single cookie in sight. You step out of the room and make your way down the hallway being careful not to make any noise. After walking around the place for a bit you then realized how large this building you were in and that you might be lost. You figured it was a castle because of the fancy interior design and the many rooms that had big open spaces.  

You felt a chill up your back as you had that same feeling of someone watching you but it’s the dead of night who would be awake right now, well except for you of course. Your train of thought was interrupted as you stopped to look at a big tapestry on the wall. On it was a picture of a blue colored cookie, his face held no emotion. You had a feeling you’ve seen this cookie before.

While you were trying to decipher where you saw that cookie you felt a cold air run past you. Your breath stopped as you heard the footsteps of someone coming. You didn’t have enough time to react as you were frozen in place. You felt two hands grab your shoulders from behind and they turned you around.

“Ah there you are my dear I was wondering where you have run off too.”

You were looking into the face of the cookie who looked exactly like the one on the tapestry. He looked at you with a smile and then looked above you to see what you were observing before he reached you.

“Heh, I see that you were admiring me.”

He smirked at you, still holding onto you. It was him! The one you met in the forest! The one who gave you this forsaken bite on your neck! “It’s you! The one in the forest, how dare you bring me here! What do you want from me!” You yelled at him and pushed him back from you. “Oh I only just needed to reclaim what is mine, which is you.” You looked at him in anger in confusion. You took a step back but it only caused him to take a step forward.

“What are you talking about? I know nothing about you and I don’t belong to anyone.”

“That’s not a problem darling, we have an eternity to get to know each other.”

He took a couple more steps towards you as you backed up against the wall. What was he talking about you’re definitely not staying here and what did he mean an eternity. As if he read your thoughts he smiled and took a hold of your hand. “Haven’t you realized yet my dear?” He took you over to a mirror just a few meters away and pulled you in front of it.

You looked at yourself in the mirror in disbelief. There was a bit of blue blood coming out of the bite on your neck and your eyes were the same color of the cookie standing right behind you. You didn't know what to say, what could you have said? You felt arms wrap around you and the cookie behind you nuzzled into your neck whispering in your ear.

“Don’t you see my love? You’re just like me now and you’ll be staying with me forever~”

[fizzyxcustard]

In The Shadows

Fandom: The Hobbit

Pairings: Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Nightmares, night terrors, angst, slight smut/masturbation mention

Summary: A direct sequel to this prompt. Requested by @i-did-not-mean-to Thorin feels nothing but guilt after he attacked you in bed during a night terror episode. The only thing Thorin can bring himself to do is try and keep away from you.

Comments/Notes: As always, should you wish to be added or removed from my tag list(s), let me know.

Thorin was strong. That much you knew from the grip he had had around your neck. But he was now so distant from you that you cried at night. He dared not share a bed with you. Instead, he had vacated to the guest wing just down the corridor from yours and Thorin's main bed chamber.

Whenever you tried to catch him early in a morning or late at night, he was never in his room. Instead he disappeared when he knew you were asleep or were in another part of Erebor. Thorin remained in the shadows, wanting to be unseen and dip out of your vision. Only now, his dreams were more vivid and more terrifying. Something was following him, attached to him like a swirling mist of smoke that would not disappear. And in his dream, he knew that you were not there. He was alone, brokenhearted, drifting aimlessly without a purpose.

The bruising was deep purple and black, distinct circles around your throat and back of your neck. All you could manage were liquids and soft foods: water, milk, soup, finely mashed vegetables. Neldra, your maid, remained on hand constantly and Oin checked your bruising every morning.

One afternoon, six days after the incident, you penned a letter to your husband. This would be the only way to communicate with him; the stubborn Dwarf king was too clever to be collared by you in the hallway. He knew your predictable movements.

My dearest husband. Please meet with me. We must talk. My heart is breaking and I cannot stand being parted from you. My love, come to me.

Neldra delivered your letter, pushing it under the king's door. She dared not deliver it by hand. The king had made it clear that he wished to remain undisturbed while in the guest wing. He had also made it clear to all serving staff and guards to keep the queen away from him, but as of yet, that you did not know.

No reply.

In the dead of night, one week after the incident, you charged out of your bed chamber and stormed up the hallway towards the guest rooms. You would talk with him, one way or the other. Even if it meant camping outside on the floor, you would talk with him.

You knocked, knowing which room was his from Neldra. She had told you, despite being ordered not to. But she was your friend alongside being a maid.

"Thorin? I know you're in there," you rasped. "Get out here now! I won't ask twice." You grabbed the door handle and shook it up and down. "I won't leave. I'll camp out here all night if I have to."

Shuffling came from inside the room.

And then the door opened. A pair of beautiful blue eyes greeted you through the small space between the wooden door and the frame. His face immediately radiated joy and sorrow upon the sight of you. You heard a faint gasp; it was the same gasp from your wedding day when he saw you in your marital gown.

"Let me in," you said.

Thorin could not deny you anything now that you were stood before him. The walls of stubbornness and anger at himself came tumbling down, letting you tread all over the wreckage in order to re-build something beautiful. That had always been your effect on Thorin.

As you stepped inside, you stopped right next to him and raised your hand to cup his cheek but he moved his head. "Don't," he murmured. "I do not deserve anything at all from you, most of all, your love."

You stepped more fully into the room and once he had closed the door, you rushed at him.

Thorin was caught completely off guard, but knew that any resistance was futile. Your embrace made him groan against you and he clung to you so tight, inwardly begging that you would never let him go.

You heard him begin to weep, and there you continued holding him. You kissed his head and down onto his temple.

"How can you even bring yourself to be around me?" Thorin asked. "I do not deserve forgiveness for laying a finger on you, my queen." Thorin lifted his head and looked at you, his blue gaze sinking into yours. His eyes were red and full of tears.

"There is nothing to forgive," you told him. "I promised on the day that I married you, I would take the good days and the bad days, spending every one of them with you, and sharing in everything with you."

"I could have killed you, my love."

"But you didn't. I'm still here. And I want you back beside me at night. We should be in our marital bed."

"I cannot risk hurting you," Thorin begged. "I will not allow myself back into our bed."

"One night. That's all I'm asking. One night. If it happens again then we will cross that bridge. For now, please come back with me. I need you beside me at night. Not only that, but I've missed your touch. I miss you. Everything about you. Your voice. Your laugh. We talked of children so often. Please, make love to me again."

Thorin's eyes grew darker as you spoke. Your words were becoming filled with your intimate need; he could see your cheeks flushing. He, too, had missed your intimacy. In fact, he had tried to pleasure himself at night just to get to sleep. But the feeling of you wrapped around him could never, ever be replicated through any other means. You or nothing.

That night and Thorin took you. Your passion and fire was burning so strong. Both of you came multiple times, in various positions. Once you were spent completely, you lay beside Thorin, back in your marital bed. You kissed him gently and rested your hand on his chest.

"I would walk through fire for you," you told him. "Anything, and I'd do it. Just, please, do not push me away." You wept on him, your brow against his neck and shoulder. "Never turn me away from you again. I'm your wife."

Thorin tightened his grip on your hand and kissed your head. "And as your husband, the last thing I should do is cause you pain."

"And you don't yet see, do you? The emotional pain is so much more excruciating than physical. These bruises will fade and the pain will be forgotten. But being without you is something I can't even bear to contemplate."

***

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[priestess-of-ra]

shoot-of-corruption:

But as he lead the way down the alley, he really didn’t care about a bit of spilled milk. His stride was unbothered, especially as he felt the thief follow him. A small grin slipped onto his face. As he was halfway in the alley, he seemed to twitch before the thief’s eyes and vanished into nothingness.

Slithering through the shadows, like he was born to do it, he flitted over the wall and practically pounced behind the poor thief behind him. He had practically not a ghost of a chance.

Something swished by the other ones ear and stayed there, while Mariku manifested himself right behind him, folding his arms in front of his chest.

“So~ ... THIEF.” He smirked at the other. “Let’s see who is under that hood~” He’d grab the hood and pull it back, probably pulling out just a few of his hairs and pretty much twitching, when he saw a bunch of white strands fall over the other ones shoulders.

He froze and a gasp left his lips. He had only seen this white hair on “two” people in his life... and he couldn’t believe that any of them would do this, especially to him. “... Bakura?”

He guessed that was the best take... they shared that name at least.

Okay, that wasn't expected at all. Where'd he go!? Oh, fuck him running, he knew this was bound to be some kind of trick. But what was this trick going to be like? He just stood there in confusion, dumbfounded about what in the name of the gods he just stood there and witnessed. Was he just seeing things out of hunger? Was that Zorc coming to mess with him? What--

His thoughts were cut off by the sensation of something by his ear. And then there was a voice behind him, and gods did it not sound very happy. Which was easily confirmed by the yank of his hood, which pulled some hairs out with it. Hey! What the hell, stranger!? As soon as his hood was pulled off, he whipped his entire frame around to scold the guy.

"Hey! What was that about!" He huffed, reaching a hand behind his head to cover the pained part of his scalp. "You didn't need to tear my hair out!" And he was going to just leave it at that until this guy spoke his name. Hold on. Who the hell is this? The face is familiar, he's definitely seen him around. He knows his name, so they've met before, but he can't recall a single thing about this guy. Well, this is awkward indeed. 

"...Do I know you?" The question was tentative; he was certain that the answer was yes, but he just couldn't recall who he was looking at. Not off the top of his head, at least. He was quite certain that he didn't have to lean so far back to look up at him the last time they met, but he supposed that was the case when your host body was 176 cm and you're actually a pathetic 153 cm. He's very certain he's supposed to know who this is, but where in the name of the gods have they met before? Must've been in his host's body back when he was shoved in that ring, but where?